#and it was right around thanksgiving so i was like wait tickets for this would be the perfect christmas present | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pctcr · 2 years

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waited this long [2]

hello!! here's part two, thank you so much for the support on the first part and i hope you enjoy!

prompt: you didn't expect to see peter again, let alone kiss him. you didn't expect him to betray you, either.

pairing: tasm!peter x fem!reader (female pronouns, no specific anatomy)

content: swearing, mentions of drinking, implications of sex, angst with a happy ending, childhood friends to lovers

word count: 7.6k

additional notes: a bit of an au to fit my needs (harry isn’t crazy and gwen never died), unedited!

playlist for this part

part one

November feels like it lasts a day for you and before you know it, you’re shopping for Christmas gifts with Peter. The mall has been playing Christmas songs since before Thanksgiving and if you’re honest, they’re starting to give you a headache.

“I have no idea what to get for my parents.” You complain to Peter, plopping down next to him on the bench he’s sitting on. You rest your head against his shoulder and he wraps his arm around you like it’s a routine. You could almost call it that.

Peter’s humming along to the song playing over the speakers before he replies. “Get your Mom a new stand mixer. You broke it, didn’t you?”

You scoff. “You broke it by putting in basically frozen butter and expecting it to work.”

“That will not hold up in court. You’re the only witness.” Peter says, nudging you to emphasize the joke.

“Fine, I’ll say it’s from both of us then.” You say.

“Sounds good.”

“And in the card, I’ll tell her how I took the blame for you.”

“Okay- wait, no-”

You laugh, moving enough that it dislodges Peter’s arm and you stand. “Let’s look at JCPenny for the mixer and I’ll just find something for my dad there.”

The two of you ride the escalator up to the department store, walking around aimlessly and hoping you would spot something you could get for your Dad as well as Peter. You have been struggling to come up with a perfect gift for your first Christmas together. You were never the best with gifts in general and your aim for it to be the best is certainly not helping your case.

You’re looking at an end-cap full of ties when you spot one that almost makes you laugh. It’s a simple black tie with a striped design, but upon closer inspection, the lines are scientific equations written small enough to appear as a pattern. You put it in the basket you picked up when you entered the store without another thought. Maybe you could convince Peter to wear it to the fancy party Harry invited the two of you to.

You lost Peter in the store quickly, but you didn’t mind. It gave you time alone to look for a gift without worrying he’ll notice what you’re buying is for him. You’re walking mindlessly around for a few minutes before you find the toy section. You’re about to leave that area when a kid's camera catches your eye. A camera would be perfect to get for Peter - he had been talking about the fancy Canon camera the Daily Bugle had him using and how much he wanted one of his own. You mentally take note of your idea before deciding to find the appliance section to grab a mixer for your Mom’s gift.

There’s a couple choices of color and you decide to get a white one to be safe, taking the small ticket to take to the counter. You’ve already paid before Peter finds you, carrying a bag of his own. “What did you buy?”

“None of your business, pretty lady.” Peter says, grinning at you.

“Rude,” You say with no bite, walking out of the store with Peter right behind you. “Could you possibly be the best boyfriend and get us a pretzel to share while I use the bathroom?”

“I already am, but sure.” Peter agrees.

“Debatable.” You tease, leaving Peter before he can offer to hold your bag for you. You need the bag to hide your next purchase. You quickly make your way into Best Buy, finding the camera and purchasing it in a little under five minutes. The price is a little steep, but Harry had given everyone Christmas bonuses this year so it hurt your wallet a little less. Plus, you knew for certain Peter would love his gift and you’d pay any price for that.

You find him beside the Auntie Anne’s, holding a half-eaten pretzel in one hand and his phone in the other. You approach him, grinning about your fantastic gift idea. “Sorry, there was a line.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t eat the whole thing.” Peter jokes, handing you the rest of the pretzel.

You raise your eyebrows at him, taking a bite of the pretzel. “Then wouldn’t that make you not the best boyfriend?”

Peter slaps a hand over his heart. “I’m wounded, [Name].”

You roll your eyes at his antics, finishing the pretzel and throwing the wrapper away. “You all good to go?”

Peter nods and the two of you take the subway back to your house. The ride is quiet, both of you scrolling through social media to occupy the time.

When you finally get home, you put the gifts in your closet to hide them until you wrap them. While you’re in your closet, you take a peek at the outfit you planned for the party. “Do you think this’ll be alright?” You ask Peter, who has taken a seat on your bed.

Peter glances up and smiles at you warmly. “You’ll look amazing in anything and I’m sure this won’t be any different.”

The way he looks at you makes your knees weak. You’ll never get used to it. You feel your cheeks grow warm and you tear your gaze away from him to close your closet door. You walk over to your bed, laying down next to Peter.

Peter instantly pulls you closer to him, making a happy noise as he buries his face into your hair. “Are you using a different shampoo?”

You laugh. “Maybe. You can tell?”

He nods, pressing a kiss to your head. “Just smells different.”

You turn to face him and God, he’s beautiful. You’ll never know what you’ve done to deserve someone like Peter. Ever since you met him, even when you were younger, you knew there was something about him that made you feel safe, protected. Even without that, he’s caring and sensitive to your worries. He’s… perfect.

Peter leans closer to you, taking your chin in his hand. He smiles, a real, beaming thing that has your heart racing. He uses his hand to tilt your head up just enough to kiss you. His nose nudges against yours and his hair is tickling your forehead.

You press back, kissing him in an attempt to convey what you had been thinking just seconds before - he’s perfect.

Peter pulls back, moving his hand from your chin to cup your cheek.

The weight of his hand is comforting against your skin, grounding you here in this moment with him. “How are you real?” You whisper.

“Well, when Mommy and Daddy love each other very much-”

“Way to ruin a moment, Peter.” You pout jokingly.

He laughs, pressing another quick kiss to your lips. His hand moves to your hair, pushing it behind your ear. “It’s hard to believe you’re real sometimes, too.”

“How’s that?” You ask.

“The day I ran into you I had uh, thought about calling you. For the first time in a while, actually,” Peter says, running his fingers through your hair in a vain attempt to untangle it. He stops when his fingers catch on a knot, absentmindedly trying to brush it out. “But instead of me calling you, you fell right in front of me.”

“I did not fall.” You protest in a quiet voice.

“My apologies. You stumbled in front of me.” He says.

“Thank you for the correction. I’ll forgive you this time.”

“And next time?”

“You’ll never live to tell the tale.” You joke, moving to the edge of the bed and standing. “I found a little gift for you for the party.”

Peter sits up fully, straightening his back. “At the mall?”

You nod, rummaging through the bag you put in your closet before pulling out the tie. You grin as you show him, placing it in his lap.

Peter picks it up and inspects it, laughing a little. “Oh, this is awesome!”

“Will you wear it to the party then?” You ask, climbing back into the bed and reclaiming the spot you were laying in before.

“Yes. I love this so much,” he says, squinting at the design to attempt to read the equations. “Thank you, [Name].”

You nod. “Anything for you to look snazzy at the party.”

“I will look so snazzy, thanks to you.”

You stare up at the ceiling, crossing your arms comfortably on your chest. Your thoughts drift to something to talk about and the only thing you come up with is the newest crime-fighting hero. “How do you feel about Spider-Man?”

Peter tenses next to you but relaxes just as quickly. “I don’t know, he’s alright, I guess.”

“Just alright?” You question, turning to lay on your side to face him. “I mean, I think it’s pretty cool that he helps our city so much.”

Peter shrugs. “That is pretty cool.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Are you jealous that I think another man is cool?”

Peter shoots you a look. “No.”

You sigh dramatically, disappointed with his lack of a funny response. “You’re no fun, joke with me!” You say, reaching over and squeezing his thigh.

Peter picks up your hand and kisses it before letting it fall back to its previous place on his leg. “Can we watch that movie you were telling me about?”

You debate for a moment before speaking. “What happened with Harry? The day you visited?”

Peter doesn’t look at you, swallowing hard before responding. “Just didn’t have the same opinion on work, or something. I don’t really remember.”

You’re doubtful but say nothing.

Peter seems to not like your silence. “Can we watch that movie?” He repeats, gazing at you expectantly.

The two of you spend the rest of the night laying in your bed together, cuddling cozily under a blanket. The movie is the only sound in your room apart from your fan. The silence is easy, but you can’t get Peter’s deflections of the topics of Spider-Man and Harry out of your head. You don’t understand why he always jokes back with you but not this time or why he doesn’t want to share his differing opinion with you. You’re barely paying attention to the movie anymore. You try to, but Peter just isn’t making any sense. You decide not to push anymore, leaving it for another time. He isn’t acting off with you so you try to remind yourself it’s nothing to do with you. You finally tune back into the movie, settling back into Peter’s arms for the remainder of the evening.

—

It’s a couple days before Christmas and it’s snowing pretty heavily outside. The weather is cold enough that frost has formed on your window during the night and you make a mental note to turn your humidifier off for a couple days. You’re still getting ready for the Oscorp party when the doorbell rings downstairs. You can’t make out the muffled voices but you know it’s Peter and your parents talking. You finish up the remainder of your last minute touch ups, smoothing out your outfit before heading downstairs.

Peter is wearing a simple black suit and you can’t help but smile when you notice he’s wearing the tie you bought him. He looks so handsome and you wish he had more excuses to dress up. He turns when he hears you coming down the stairs and his kind grin melts into something affectionate. “Oh, wow.”

You blush under his gaze, looking down to make sure your outfit looks right before meeting his eyes. “Nice suit.”

“Yeah, no- You look amazing, [Name]. Holy sh-” Peter looks over to your parents, smiling apologetically. “Sorry, got a little excited there.”

Your Dad bites back a smile. “No, I understand. I get the same with her Mot-”

“Okay!” You interrupt, grabbing your shoes from the base of the stairs. “Let’s get going, I don’t want to be late. That would be embarrassing.”

Your Mom holds up a camera in her hands. “At least one picture?”

You roll your eyes but nod, stepping closer to Peter and wrapping an arm around his waist.

He mirrors you, pressing a kiss to your hair before smiling widely for the camera.

You do the same and your Mom ends up taking at least ten pictures instead of one, but you remember suddenly that your gift for Peter is ready for him, wrapped up nicely and sitting on your bed. “Oh, wait, I want to give your gift to you now, just in case.” You race up the stairs, being mindful of your shoes and come down with the box in hand.

Peter gapes at you. “[Name], you did not! Is it a puppy-”

“Shh, open it before you say anything.” You say, handing it to him and waiting.

Peter shoots you a look but doesn’t say anything like you asked. He tears back the paper and nearly drops the box when he realizes what it is. Peter takes a few seconds to process before he basically does a lap around the kitchen in the form of a happy dance. He sets the box on the kitchen table, wrapping still half-on and hugs you tightly. “Thank you so much, [Name]! This is the best gift I think I’ve ever gotten, seriously.”

You hug him back, happy that he’s so excited. “Of course. Anything for you.”

Peter leans down right next to your ear and you think he’s going to kiss your head, but he whispers just loud enough for you, like it’s a secret. “I love it. I love you.”

It feels like a bucket of cold water falls over you and your body tingles in excitement. It’s not like this wasn’t coming, you had almost said it several times up until now, but you feared it would have been too early. The last few months have made you the happiest you’ve ever been and it’s all thanks to him. You pull back just enough to look him in the eye and he’s smiling like an idiot. You kiss the smile off his face, not caring that your parents are only a couple feet away. It only lasts a moment, but you hope he understands you recuperate his feelings. The lovestruck expression on his face answers the question for you.

Peter steps back from the hug. “Well, we should get going. Could you send me the pictures you took once you get them off of the camera?” He asks your Mom.

She nods. “Of course. Have fun you two, be safe. We’ll probably be on a plane by the time you get back here.”

You remember her telling you that they were going to be flying back to Wisconsin to check in your Aunt and her family. “Tell everyone I said hello.”

You and Peter leave a few minutes later and the second you're far enough away from your house that you’re sure your parents aren’t spying, you hug him again. “Of course you’d tell me you love me in front of my parents!”

Peter laughs, wrapping his arms around you. “I had to. You were making it incredibly difficult not to. That's your fault.”

You scoff, leaning back with your arms still situated around his waist. “Well, in that case, I don’t return your feelings-”

“I will cry in front of everyone at the party and embarrass you-”

“Okay! I love you, too, idiot.” You say endearingly.

Peter grins in satisfaction. “Knew it.”

The walk to the subway and the ride itself are filled with small affections - holding hands and quick kisses. Your heart feels so full as you enter the party hall, a little taken aback at how big it was. There’s one huge party area with small, private rooms off the sides. There’s a snack buffet and a bar, as well as a DJ who is playing acoustic versions of popular songs. “Jesus, Harry.” You mutter under your breath.

Peter snickers a little. “Yeah, Jesus is right.”

You didn’t think Peter could hear you but you roll with it anyway. “I’m going to see if I can find Gwen. She was struggling to decide between two dresses and I want to know if she picked the one I liked.”

Peter nods and kisses you. “Alright, I’ll find you in a little bit.”

You smile at him. “Love you.” You say and wink at him in a form of a tease.

“Love you, too.” Peter replies easily, winking back at you before he disappears into the crowd.

You don’t stop smiling until you find Gwen, who is wearing the dress you wanted her to. “Oh, you picked it! You look amazing! Didn’t I tell you?”

Gwen does a spin to show it off. “Yeah, yeah. I told you before that I trust your judgement,” you’re still smiling so hard that she takes notice. “What are you smiling about?”

Your smile drops just a little. You wonder if this is something you should tell her. You don’t want to upset her, but she did say everything. “He told me he loved me.” You say.

Gwen grins so wide that it makes you question why you doubted telling her seconds ago. “Are you serious? That’s so-” She cuts herself off, pulling you into a hug. “That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you.”

You hug her back before she pulls away. “Thank you, Gwen, really. You were right, he is an awesome guy,” you nudge her. “See? I trust your judgement, too.”

Gwen winks at you, looking past you to see the bar. “Want me to grab you a drink?”

You nod. “Yeah, sure. Just get me whatever you get. I’ll pay you later, I’m gonna go find Peter really fast. Let him know we’re over here.”

Gwen shakes her head. “Don’t worry, it’s on me. I’ll meet you back here.”

You nod and make your way through the crowd back to where you saw Peter go earlier, pausing when you think you hear his voice coming from behind you. You turn just enough to see Peter and Harry talking. You’re approaching and you’re about to call out to them, when you see a check in Harry’s hand. You shouldn’t listen in, you really shouldn’t. If Peter wanted you to know what was going on, he would tell you. But your curiosity gets the better of you and you decide to turn your back, stepping just close enough that you can hear. You blend in well with everyone else as you listen.

“Harry-”

“No, Peter, seriously take it. You got the girl and kept her like I told you. You earned it.” Harry responds.

Your hearing is suddenly muffled and your body goes cold. You can’t make sense of it. Peter… lied to you? Every date, every kiss, every night you gave yourself to him was a lie? Peter loving you was a lie? You can’t control your rapid breaths anymore and you really don’t want to get caught, especially now. You quickly make your way over to Gwen, who’s holding two drinks in her hands.

“I got this fancy drink for us, apparently Harry prepaid them so we don’t have-” Gwen cuts off, seeing the expression on your face. You have no idea what it looks like but it must be alarming. “[Name]? What’s wrong?”

You can’t steady your breaths, they’re coming out faster now. You can’t focus on anything. The people, the music - they’re too loud now. You can’t get your thoughts together. “Can… Can we…”

Gwen understands, leading you into one of the unoccupied rooms adjacent to the main floor. She closes the door behind her and sets the drinks on one of the side tables near the door.

You sit on the closest piece of furniture you can find which ends up being a table. “He lied, Gwen, he fucking-”

“Woah, woah, calm down! Who lied?” She asks, sitting in the chair across from you.

“Peter! I heard Harry!” You say, the anxiety fading quickly to anger. You stand, pacing around the room. “He said, ‘You got the girl and kept her like I said, take it.’ He was holding a check, Gwen, he was paying him! To date me!”

Gwen’s eyes grow wide with concern, standing up and approaching you. “Hey, hey.” She says, grabbing your hands and squeezing them tightly. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. One hundred percent.”

Her face changes from concerned to angry. “I’m going to kill-”

A knock comes to the door and before either of you can respond, Peter opens the door. “Hey, I saw you two come in-” He stops and his easy smile falls. “What’s going on?”

Gwen shares a look with you, wordlessly telling you to be calm. “I’ll leave you to it.” She says, exiting the room and closing the door behind her.

“Are you alright? What happened, [Name]?” Peter asks. He steps closer to you and you take a step back to keep the distance. Peter looks hurt by this. “[Name]?” He asks again.

You can feel your body shaking. Gwen’s silent recommendation to be calm crumbles away with him standing in front of you. “Don’t look at me like that. You’re such a fucking prick, Peter.”

“Hey, hey! What the hell is going on?” Peter questions incredulously.

You hate the way he’s looking at you, especially knowing now that it’s all an act. “You know, this is really low for you. Did I mean nothing to you? Did we mean nothing to you?”

“Why would you mean nothing?” Peter’s alarmed now, his face painted with concern. “[Name], seriously, what are you talking about? You mean so much-”

“Don’t!” You yell. “Don’t you dare lie to me again!”

“Love, you’re yelling. Please, can we-” Peter steps closer and you can’t back away anymore, the table is touching the back of your legs.

“Fuck you, Peter!” You’re still yelling. You know outside people must be hearing your muffled accusations but you can’t find it in you to care. “I can’t believe you-!”

Peter’s kissing you before you can even tell him to back up.

Your body wants to respond, you desperately want to just forget what you heard but you can’t and you shove him off of you. “Why would you-”

“You were practically screaming! I just wanted you to calm down and talk to me. It was all I could think of!” Peter says, his hand reaching out for you in a vain attempt to get you to settle.

You push his hand away. “For money? Really, Peter?” You say instead of yelling, your voice is hard and unforgiving. You can’t cry in front of him but you feel the burn of oncoming tears. “How terrible of a person do you have to be for you to agree to something like that?”

Recognition crosses his face and your heart falls. “[Name], love, how did you-”

“Don’t call me that,” You demand, tears finally filling your eyes. It blurs your vision just enough that you can’t make out his expression and you’re thankful, you can’t look at him if he’s going to just lie again. “Tell me the truth. Right now.”

Peter opens his mouth to respond when his phone pings once, then twice, then three times.

You feel a laugh of disbelief bubble up and you can’t hold it back. “Peter.” You warn.

“[Name], I have to-”

“Fuck your job! Tell me what’s going on right now.”

“I’ll come to yours right after, okay? I’ll explain, I promise. I really need to-”

You can’t believe he’s choosing to go to work over explaining the situation to you. It’s almost as unbelievable as what you heard Harry say. “You leave and we’re done.” Your tone is final.

“[Name], please, this is important!” Peter begs.

You scoff. “This is important, you asshole.” You say angrily. “You leave this room and we’re done.”

“[Name], don’t do this. Please don’t do this, not right now.” Peter looks so distraught and it makes you angrier. Why is he upset?

“Leave and we’re done.” You repeat.

Peter stares at you for so long, so long you think he might stay.v“I’m sorry.” He whispers, taking a traitorous step backward towards the door. “I swear I’ll-”

“Don’t even bother.” You say, the tears finally rolling down your cheeks. “Get out, leave, do whatever your damn job needs you to do so badly. But don’t you even think about showing up to my house.”

Peter’s crying too. You realize this as he nods and a single tear drops to right above his lip and he wipes it away. “I’m sorry.” He says one last time, tugging the door open and leaving you alone in the room.

Gwen appears in front of you, crouching down to be eye-level with you. She’s talking to you, but you aren’t listening.

You don’t remember sitting down on the floor. You don’t know how long it’s been since Peter left you here by yourself. You feel terrifyingly numb, a stark contrast to how happy you were an hour ago. “I’m going home.” You announce, standing with Gwen’s help.

“I’ll come with you.” Gwen says.

You shake your head. “I want to be alone.” You say, your voice weak. “I’ll… call you, maybe, I don’t know. Can you.. tell… Harry… that I need a day off?”

Gwen nods. “Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll handle it. At least let me know when you get home.”

You leave the room without saying anything back, walking along the wall to avoid anyone stopping you. You grab your jacket from the coat check, hating the way the employee is failing to hide their concern. It’s cold and snowing when you step outside and you pull up your hood, bracing yourself for the freezing walk to the subway station. There’s not a lot of people walking around and you assume it’s because of the weather. You’ve made it about two blocks when you hear a strange noise. You turn, seeing a figure flying through the air on the other side of the street. It takes you a couple seconds to process that it’s Spider-Man, watching as he uses a web to continue the momentum. You follow his movements with awe until you watch something drop, slowly falling down to the sidewalk. You go to yell after him that he dropped something, but by the time you look up from the fallen object, he’s gone.

You look both ways before dashing across the street to pick up whatever he had dropped, hoping you could maybe return it to him. You stop in front of it, bending down to pick it up. It looks like an article of clothing. You brush the snow off of it and your heart starts to race. It’s the tie. It’s the stupid science tie you gave Peter weeks ago. The one he wore tonight.

It suddenly clicks into place as you stand there, holding the silk tie in your hands. The police sirens when he calls, the wind when it’s not windy, the late nights, the consistent almost meetings of the two - Peter Parker is Spider-Man.

You still can’t believe it when you get home. You turn on the light and hang your coat on the rack next to your door, abandoning your shoes by the door instead of putting them away. You’re struggling to form a coherent thought. You make your way to the kitchen, wanting to get some water to hopefully calm yourself down just a little. You flip the light on and your heart clenches. Peter’s camera sits on the kitchen counter, now fully unwrapped with printed out photos sitting in front of it. You pick up the stack of pictures, seeing a post-it note on top. It’s from your Mom, telling you she printed out two of each picture for you and Peter.

The pictures make you feel even worse about the situation. The posed photos are bad enough - you smiling happily, having no idea what sadness was impending. The last one is the worst. It’s one you didn’t know was being taken, you’re looking at Peter and he’s smiling down at you. You would’ve loved this picture if you came home with him, if you had never heard Harry. There’s a part of you that’s glad you heard if it means it saved you even more pain. You have no idea how long Peter would have kept this facade going and it ending sooner rather than later is easing your pain just a little.

You set the pictures down, grabbing your water and heading up to your room. Reality doesn’t set in until you look around your bedroom, seeing various pieces of evidence of Peter’s existence. His jacket, a couple shirts, and even a pair of tennis shoes he let you borrow. You’re crying again, tears just coming and coming. You cry for what feels like hours until your phone ringing tears you out of it.

You know who it is before you even look, not surprised when Peter’s name is on your phone. You let it ring and he keeps calling, one after the other with less than a few seconds in between. You’re irritated and sad and him calling is making it worse. Against your better judgement, you answer. “Stop.” Is all you say and you’re about to hang up, when Peter starts rambling.

“[Name], no, please don’t hang up. Please. I’m begging you. Please just-”

“Stop calling.” You say, sniffing and wiping away the tears still on your cheeks.

“Can we please talk? I swear it’s not what you think, I promise. I promise-” You can hear the desperation in his voice.

An idea pops into your head. If he really, truly wanted to make amends, if he wanted to be honest with you, he’d tell you this. He’d tell you he’s Spider-Man. You might be reaching, but it’s worth a shot. “Then tell me the truth about your job.”

“What?” His voice is quiet.

“Tell me the truth about your job,” you repeat. “When your phone goes off and you leave, what are you doing?”

Peter’s silent for a long time. It’s almost a minute long of just white noise before he speaks. “I’m… You’re not going to believe me. It’s complicated. So, so complicated.”

Hope blossoms in your chest. “Try me.”

“[Name], I’m taking pictures of Spider-Man.” Peter says it like it’s a fact, like he’s so sure he’s telling the truth. But he’s not. You know he’s not.

The hope dies just as quick as it came. Realistically, if you didn’t know the truth already, you would have believed him. It makes sense, you’ll give him that, but it’s not the truth. “That’s not true.” You whisper.

“What? [Name]-”

“Don’t contact me any more,” You interrupt. ”I’ll give your camera to May, but do not come here. I’m done, Peter. I’m done.” You hang up before he has a chance to protest. He doesn’t call again, either and it makes you feel worse than you thought it would.

You dial Gwen’s number. She’s the only person you want to talk to right now.

She picks up after only one ring. “[Name], did you get home okay? You took a while.”

“Yeah,” you say softly. “Did you know Peter is Spider-Man?” It comes out with a tone like you’re joking.

“How did-”

“So you do,” You interrupt, sighing. “He wouldn’t tell me.”

“How did you find out?” Gwen asks.

“Watched him swing by and he dropped the tie I bought him.” You explain, deciding to clean up his stuff and putting it out of your sight. You put it in a plastic bag and set it near your desk to take downstairs tomorrow.

“He didn’t really tell me, either. He just kinda… webbed me once.” Gwen says and you find it in you to laugh just a little.

“Yeah. Is that why you were telling me to be careful?” You ask.

“I guess so. I had no idea if he would tell you. I didn’t… I have no idea what’s going on right now,” Gwen says and you hear her sigh. “This isn’t… like him at all.”

“You’re telling me.” You respond, laying back down on your bed. “I’m going to try and sleep, I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Alright. I told Harry you needed some time and he told me to tell you to take all the time you need. He… seemed upset, [Name].”

“Right,” you mumble. “Bye, Gwen. Thank you.”

“No problem. Try to sleep well.”

You hang up after she responds, burying yourself under your blankets. All you can think about is Peter. His secret superhero identity, his lies, his fake love confession, his stupid bet with Harry. It’s too much and it overwhelms you until you finally fall asleep.

—

The next few months suck for you. You went back to work after two days like you had said and have since avoided as many interactions with Harry as possible. You still had to see him sometimes, but you always cut the interactions short. He never really tried to say anything to you apart from asking you how you were or thanking you for your work. You were thankful he never mentioned Peter and you’re certain he knew what happened.

You kept up with Spider-Man’s qualms with city crime, too. You figured it was your way of checking up on him without actually doing it. It never made you feel better, though, at least knowing he’s still doing something he enjoyed. You missed him so badly even if you were angry with him. You’re still working though the emotions of the whole overdeal, even after this long. You did love him, you’re sure of it and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t still have feelings for him. You wish he really loved you like he said he did. You wish he never lied.

You and Gwen got closer over the last few weeks as well and it helped you feel less alone. She would come over a lot at first to help you work through everything and continues to check up on you. Her presence and insight were helpful in keeping your head above water.

You’re at work, organizing files on your computer when you get a call from the phone at your desk. You pick up, holding it between your shoulder and ear to continue working as you talk. “Front desk.” You say, deleting a folder you no longer need.

“[Name], can I see you in my office? I’ll send Jill down to cover you.” Harry’s voice immediately upsets you. You associate it with Peter. It’s difficult not to, after all.

“Sure.” You say, attempting to hide the anxious shake in your voice. You hang up and head upstairs after Jill comes to take your spot. You breathe deeply, knocking on his door.

“Come in,” Harry calls and you open the door, closing it behind you. “Hello.”

“Hi,” you say softly. “What did you want to see me for?” You ask, taking a seat when he gestures to the chairs in front of his desk.

“I’m going to preface this with the fact that it isn’t about work.”

Your heart drops to your stomach. “What is it about, then?” You question, even though you’re so sure it’s about-

“You and Peter.” Harry says, taking a sip of tea from his mug. “I realize it’s a tad unprofessional, but this is friend to friend. Not boss to employee.”

“Harry, I really… don’t want to talk about him.” You say, pulling your sleeves down to cover your hands so you don’t pick at your skin anxiously.

“[Name], I understand that you two ended things, but there’s-”

“Harry,” you say sternly. “I don’t want to lose my job so please take this as a friend to a friend, as you put it. I don’t want to discuss him or our relationship. At all.”

Harry watches you for a moment before nodding. “Alright. May I deliver you a message from him? Something he asked me to tell you.”

You avoid his gaze, staring down at the tile floor. You see a warbled reflection of your face in it. It’s similar to how you feel right now. “If you believe I should hear it.”

“I do believe so. He told me to say that…” Harry pauses for a few seconds. “It was unsafe for you to know. He never wanted to lie.”

You lift your head, staring Harry down without a word. You shake your head and stand. “I’ll be returning to work.”

“Of course. I apologize for bringing the topic up.” Harry says.

You nod, opening the door and leaving without saying anything else. You take your place back from Jill, resuming your work and trying to immerse yourself in it. Harry’s want to discuss your relationship and Peter’s words unsettle you. You have no idea if that meant Peter was afraid to tell you the truth about Spider-Man or the bet. Either way, you’re still angry. You’re frustrated and upset by his actions regardless of his cryptic message.

You make your way home after work, avoiding speaking to your parents and immediately heading up to your bedroom. You turn on your TV to watch something on Netflix, laying down under a heated blanket your parents got you for Christmas. May told them that Peter had picked up the camera a week after you left it there, as well as the pictures your Mom printed out. You didn’t expect him to take them, too, but you didn’t want them and so you gave them all to May.

It’s almost midnight by the time you’re feeling tired and you turn off the movie, taking a mental note of how far into it you were. You’re putting the remote back on your dresser when you hear a light tapping on your window. You figure it’s a branch from the tree near your window so you ignore it until it gets louder. You sigh, turning on the light and you nearly scream. Peter’s in his Spider-Man suit, crouching down outside your window and gestures for you to unlock it.

You approach the window slowly and unlock it, pushing it up but not letting him in. “Can I help you?” You ask sarcastically. You’re not sure if Peter knows that you know of his identity, but you can’t find it in you to fake being welcoming.

“Can I uh, come in? It’s pretty cold out here.” Peter asks and you can tell he’s trying to not sound like himself.

“Depends on if you’re going to lie to me again.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest.

Even without seeing his expression, you can tell Peter’s surprised. He tilts his head. “What?”

“I said it depends on if you’re going to lie to me, Peter.” You say, tacking his name on at the end.

“Fuck,” Peter whispers. “I-I had no idea you knew, [Name], can we talk? I came here to tell you but clearly that’s… Please?”

You sigh, stepping back enough that Peter can climb in the window. You close it behind him to prevent the cold air from entering your room. You don’t say anything as he sits down on your bed.

Peter finally takes his mask off and solidifies your thoughts. “Thank you for letting me in.”

You nod, trying not to stare at him too much. He’s still so, so beautiful and your heart is racing even though you’re trying to calm down. “Why are you here?”

“I… I wanted to tell you the truth. Like you asked.”

“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?” You ask, refusing to sit next to him and continuing to stand as far from him as possible.

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault, I know it was all my fault,” Peter says, desperately trying to get you to look at him. “Please let me tell you the truth.”

“Fine.” You whisper, finally looking him in the eye.

“Okay, okay, okay.” Peter says, setting his mask down on his lap. “So, the stupid thing with Harry was for me to keep dating you, not date you.”

You feel anger bubbling up in you. Somehow, him having to be paid to continue to be with you makes it worse.

“Please don’t look at me like that! I swear it makes sense, just let me finish.” Peter begs. He looks so, so dejected.

“Better talk fast, then.”

“Okay, so, I was so worried about you. I loved you, I love you still and it scared me. It still scares me,” Peter says and your heart breaks just a little. “This… identity, it’s so dangerous. There are people who could find out and use you as a pawn and I have no idea what I’d do if I lost you.”

“What does this have to do with-”

“[Name], please. I told Harry about it. It was the same situation with Gwen, I was worried about her too and so he recommended I end things. This time, he didn’t agree with me. He wanted me to stay with you so I’d see that I… I needed you, you know? He was right. He was so right, I do need you.”

“So, he paid you to stop being an idiot?” You ask and Peter laughs a little.

“I guess that’s a way to put it. I didn’t take the money, though, [Name]. I would never have taken it,” Peter stands, setting his mask on your bed and walking closer to you. “To explain everything to you I would have had to tell you about this,” He gestures to the suit he’s wearing. “I couldn’t risk it. Not then. There was an entire group of people after me, it wasn’t the right time. I promise I would've told you when it was safe.”

You don’t move back from him as he continues to step closer to you.

“Please understand. You would’ve done the same.” Peter says, stepping close enough that there’s barely a foot between the two of you.

Everything is making sense. Peter’s ominous message for you, the bet that wasn’t really a bet, and even his break-up with Gwen. “I guess it makes sense.”

Peter’s concerned expression turns into a genuine smile. “Really?”

“Unless you’re lying again-”

“No!” Peter says a little too loud. “I’m not, I’m not, I promise.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to formulate your response. You believe him, you know that. If you asked Harry or Gwen, you’re sure they would corroborate it. You can’t think of anything to say, so you go with your first instinct. “You loved me for real, then?”

“Yes,” Peter says instantly. “Nothing in our relationship was ever a lie. I loved every second I spent with you.”

“You really hurt me, Peter,” You say, feeling suddenly vulnerable. “I realized I loved you and you broke my heart on the same night.”

“I know, [Name], I’m so sorry. It was never meant to go that far, I swear. I wanted to tell you.” Peter says, reaching for your hand.

You let him take it and he squeezes it. “I don’t know what you want me to say.” You whisper.

“I would like you to say you forgive me, maybe, just a little?”

A smile creeps onto your face. He’s still the same Peter, even now. “I do, I’m kinda mad still but I forgive you.”

“Does that mean I can kiss you?” Peter asks.

You chuckle, shaking your head in disbelief. Of course you want to kiss him, you missed him more than anything. Your heart is beating quicker and you pull him closer with your joined hands.

Peter grins, leaning in without another word and kissing you. His hands find your waist, pulling you even closer to him. It’s so familiar and comforting. His lips fit the same as you remember and he smells the same, too. It feels like home. When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You say back.

Peter kisses you again. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I told you I didn’t want to and that’s all I did.”

“It hurt even worse because I thought you and I…” You trail off, not knowing how to phrase what you wanted to say.

Peter moves back enough to cup your face in his hands. He doesn’t say anything, letting you speak.

“I thought we were such a good fit, I guess.” You mumble.

“What’s crazy about that is we are,” Peter smiles. “From now on, you’ll know everything. No more hiding anything.”

“You still want this?” You ask, even though you think you know the answer. You just want to hear him say it.

“More than anything. I seriously love you, so much.” Peter says.

You let out a happy noise, pulling him into a hug. “I love you, too, you stupid idiot.”

Everything falls into place after Peter tells you the truth. Your relationship resumes easily, much to your delight. You assumed there would be a bit of hesitation, but it’s a seamless transition. Harry’s thrilled to find out you two are back together when Peter tells him. Gwen and your parents, too. When Summer rolls around, you and Peter decide moving you in with him is the next step. Peter helps you move in all of your stuff and unpack it, too, not nearly as big a feat as you thought it would be. You find the old pictures from Christmas and decide to frame them in a college. Peter loves it when you show him and he hangs it up in your shared bedroom above the headboard.

You’re not entirely sure what is going to come next, but you think you’re ready for anything. Especially with Peter by your side, like it always was meant to be.

---

thank u so much for reading! my next fic will be an enemies to lovers so get ready >:) also please lmk how u liked this conclusion! i love hearing your thoughts.

taglist: @coolreallyfuzzystudentuniverse @scarlettels @di4na @scarletwitchgf @mell-bell @f4iryluvy @garfieldssimp @adriennebarnes @spectacularstyles99 @hiphopdancer101universe @cherrymedicine13 @s-tealyourheart @meeksmusic83 @can-we-meet-in-a-dream @knightofreaders @parker-films @kennywantskfc69

#spiderman #peter parker #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #peter parker imagine #spiderman imagine #spider man #the amazing spider man #tasm andrew garfield #andrew!peter parker #andrew peter parker #andrew garfield #andrew!peter x reader #andrew!spiderman

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rlnacore · 2 years

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I've seen a lot of people (especially more recently) trying to give a whole variety of reasons why it's impossible that Ricky delivered the chocolates, and why it was most likely EJ- and most of them make 0 sense. So I'm going to debunk some of them :)

1. EJ would've had Gina's mom's number meaning contacting her wouldn't have been a problem, but Ricky wouldn't have it.

- Out of all the arguments I've seen against Ricky delivering the chocolates and it being EJ instead, this one probably makes the most sense. With EJ buying Gina that plane ticket in season one, they definitely would have exchanged numbers to arrange travel arrangements for Gina. So I don't disregard that all, he definitely does have the number. But for some reason, a lot of people find it unfathomable that during the almost 2 months between Homecoming and Thanksgiving that Gina and Ricky were hanging out together (canon), that he wouldn't have somehow gotten a hold of her mom's number. In case it's been forgotten she did show up to his house in 1x07 unplanned, meaning she'd been there before. It could be as simple as her phone died once when they were together and she used his phone to text her mom, or even that her mom- knowing Gina finds it hard making friends- just wanted to know who her daughter was spending all her time with and wanted to exchange information (probably with Mike to). So yeah I think this is a fair(ish) argument but super easy to explain away.

2. Ricky was at home when Gina got the chocolates.

- This one is not even a fact, its just guessing his whereabouts at the time of the delivery. If anything, the window of time between Gina leaving Ricky's house and him sending his voicemail to Nini, backs up the theory that Ricky was the one who delivered the chocolates. We know that Gina went to see Ricky at some point between 3 and 4pm, and she received the chocolates around 9:30pm and texted Ricky back just before midnight, which was also the time he send his voicemail to Nini. His whereabouts between those times is a complete mystery to us the audience, we have no clue what he was up to. But to me at least, that window is more than enough time to: text Gina's mom about what's going on with her, formulate some sort of plan to deliver them and then have her mom text her soon after and get home just before midnight in time to play his song for Nini. Because otherwise that would mean that he just decided to wait over 6 hours at home doing nothing, not going to see Nini or anything and then play the song right when Valentines Day was basically over. So yes I think it's possible that he skated over to Ashlyn's, dropped off the chocolates, skated away and hid or whatever, sent his own text to her, then sent a text to her mom that she'd received the chocolates and she should send her own text (which she maybe didn't see til later).

3. EJ is known for sweet gestures, and Ricky has never given or shown Gina any sort of sweet gesture.

- Up until Valentines Day, the only "sweet gesture" that EJ had given Gina was the plane ticket back on opening night. So by 2x03 he wasn't particularly known as the sweet gesture guy because it was only a one off occurrence- at least until 2b. On the other hand to say that Ricky has never given Gina any sort of sweet gesture is false. Especially considering that the gesture she was referring to when she said she speaks from experience was when Ricky serenaded her in 1x06. I've seen some people say that the she was talking about the plane ticket which narratively doesn't make sense. The whole point of her saying she speaks from experience was to remind us of Gina and Ricky's relationship before she moved and he got back with Nini and show us how much has changed as a result of those events (also to reinforce that Ricky is an oblivious teenage boy).

Here's some reasons I personally think it wasn't EJ

- Ashlyn's house is like a second home to EJ, so he would've just walked into the house to drop them off.

- There's no way in hell EJ would've walked to Ashlyns, he definitely would've taken a car meaning we would've heard a car driving off by the time Gina got outside (I think Ricky used his skateboard

- Ricky is the only person who would've thought to be so anonymous about the chocolates, considering he's the only one she told how important a vday gift from her mom was to her.

In conclusion, speaking from a storytelling perspective, there's not really any logical reason for EJ to have delivered the chocolates or for it to have been made such a big deal of even up to 2x12 if it was him. Their storylines didn't cross over at all until 2x05 and before that point they had 0 interactions. A reveal that it was EJ would be meaningless because there was no storyline between them at the time of the incident.

#hsmtmts #gina porter #ricky bowen #ricky x gina #gina x ricky #rina #ej caswell #portwell

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imaginesupply · 3 years

Text

Homecoming - Chapter One

Chapter Two can be found here

(Gif’s not my own.)

Summary: The day has arrived, Captain Syverson is going home. For good, this time. He is going home to a civilian life he can hardly remember and a wife he barely knows, with memories of the war still fresh on his mind. Love might not be able to heal everything on its own, but it’s a good start.

Genres: Romance, drama.

Story warnings: Smut (always fully consensual), mentions of PTSD and nightmares and mental health, angst, hurt and comfort, fluff, mentions of war (minor), mentions of cheating (minor), mentions of pregnancy (very minor), police appearance (very minor), violence (very minor).

Notes:

It’s my first time writing for one of Henry’s characters and I’m unsure I did Sy’s character any justice.

This is a Capt. Syverson x OFC (Ada) story, written in 3rd person POV but OFC’s physical description is very limited so it could also be read as Capt. Syverson x Reader, I think.

English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes. Proofread, but not beta’ed. We die like men and all that.

Timeline is a little wacky: The movie takes place in 2003 and the U.S. forces were withdrawn from Iraq in 2011, but I never set a precise date because I don’t think it’s essential for this story. However, some elements might not be realistic because if we set this story in 2003: Phone cameras quality was not as good as it’s now, but for the purpose of the chapters, I will need you to imagine you could film great videos with your flip phone haha. Plus, it says Sy is coming back after being deployed for more than three years which makes no sense unless we set this in 2006 or later. I am asking you disregard any time inconsistencies 

Also: I am not American. I only lived in the US for six months and it was in the Midwest, not Texas so please bear with me if I write something stupid.

Finally: This is pretty much a Christmas fic and I intend to post the last chapter (there will be seven in total) on or before Christmas. However, religion is never mentioned in this story and the Christmas-sy elements of this story are limited to family gathering, gift giving and tree decorating.

Chapter One starts after the cut. Let me know if you wish to be tagged in the new chapters.

Chapter One

Chapter warnings: Badly written smut (consensual), marriage awkwardness, alcohol consumption. Maybe OOC Sy, I don’t know. We never saw him being casual.

Sy checked his phone again as he waited for his bag by the baggage carousel. The airport was even busier than usual, it was taking ages and he was impatient to get out of there... and maybe even never set foot in an airport again for the rest of his life.

He read her text again, short and sweet. He sometimes called her that, short and sweet, just to tease her. Ada was considerably shorter than him and full of sugar, when she wanted to be, that was.

'I'm waiting by the gate for you, with a warm cinnabon :) So excited to see you again <3.'

Just then a notification popped up from Harper. It was a photo of the soldier at the airport, finally reunited with his wife and his two rugrats. It made Sy all the more excited to see Ada again, and then as if on cue, his camo bag appeared in the carousel and he groaned with relief.

He stood restless amidst the line, it seemed people in front of him were dragging their feet, but when they noticed his green beret uniform, most parted and let him through. Sy tipped his head gratefully.

His wife was there, just outside the gate. Sy spotted her instantly in the crowd of people. She was wearing a red dress under her open coat and her hair looked fresh out of the hairdresser. He caught himself grinning at the sight of her. Then, once she spotted him making his way over to her, she started waving her hand excitedly as if there was any way his eyes hadn't already landed on her. He wished he still had his phone in hand to capture this moment for all of eternity, but his memory would have to do, he decided before casting his arms open for his wife. Fuck, did he love her!

°°°

Ada had been biting her nails nervously for the past two hours. She had arrived at the airport way too early. The parking fee would hurt but she couldn't find it in herself to care at this point.

Three weeks ago, she had received a call informing her that her husband and part of his unit had been ambushed. There had been an explosion in some building they were scouting only God knows where.

Only a full week after that did she receive a call from Sy himself. He was coming home. For good, this time. They were sending him home early, a full eight months earlier than what he had originally negotiated with his superiors. She hadn't been prepared for the news. She had spent the days following the call asking herself whether she had heard him right, making sure her mind wasn't playing tricks on her.

Now he was here, stopping right in front of her, his thick arms inviting her right in for a hug. Ada wouldn't have been able to resist the invitation even if she had wanted to. Within a second, she was enveloped in his embrace, her cheek pressed against his chest. She was overjoyed to feel his heartbeat again. Sy kisses the crown of her head before putting her down, his hands never leaving her lower back, his fingers big enough to reach the swell of her bum from there.

They pulled away a few inches to take each other in. His beard has grown a little long, but it was not enough to hide his apparent dimples as he smiled. He looked a little older too, she hadn't seen in seven months, except through a shitty quality facetime call once or twice. Her careful gaze spotted the new scar by his temple, it was the only visible physical evidence of the explosion he had been caught in. She dreaded what she might under his uniform.

Sy caught her eyes and she found herself blushing under his stare. It was always like that the first few hours when he was back, until she got used to his overwhelming presence again and to the fact that this handsome bear of a man was indeed her husband.

"You're looking good, darlin'," Sy grinned, making her spin for him. "I missed you."

Ada couldn’t resist his smile. "I missed you too, Sy." She confessed, handing him the still warm cinnamon roll in its paper bag.

He accepted the pastry with a smile and started eating it immediately but not before throwing his arm around her shoulders as they began making their way to the parking lot. Sy was eager to get her out of the crowd and have her just to him himself.

"So, what's the plan, darlin'?" Sy inquired with mischief to his voice, balling up the paper bag with his free hand and throwing it inside the trash can. "Did you book that hotel with the jacuzzi in the bedroom again?"

It had become a tradition of some sort between them. They would always spend his first night back at that hotel: they'd order some room service and eat in the jacuzzi. Though, usually, they would first end up on together on the bed.

Ada stopped suddenly in her tracks, making him still behind her. She smiled sheepishly. "Don't be mad," she started, his smile falling at once, "but your family is waiting for us in the parking lot. Your mom insisted that we celebrate your homecoming at the restaurant. Something about you missing Thanksgiving just by a couple days."

Sy groaned, thinking about the evening that now expected him. He'd been flying for God knows how many hours, all he wanted was a warm bath and Ada whichever way she'd let him have her, not a damn dinner party.

"I'm sorry, Sy."

He shook his head and leaned down to kiss her forehead again. "Don't worry, darlin'. I know it ain’t your fault."

As soon as they reached the open-air parking lot, Sy's nephew and niece start running up to him, having escaped their parents' grasp. His family was waiting for him with cheers and a 'welcome home, soldier' banner. Sy hated that kind of attention and she found it cringy as well, but she had been unable to stop his mother. Ada watched him hug the kids and lift them up into the air, making them laugh as she walked up to the machine to pay the fee.

Her hand trembled as she inserted the ticket into the slot, missing the opening a few times. She was happy - no, scratch that - she was ecstatic to have her husband back. It's just that, could you really say 'back' when there was never truly a 'before', a 'there'?

They had met when he was already deployed, but on a short leave back in Austin. They spent three weeks together, got married and he returned to Iraq. Since then, the longest stretch of time they had been together had been twenty days. Neither of them had ever gotten settled into married life and now he was 'back'. For good. Which was wonderful and foreign and overwhelming all at once.

Ada paid the fee and returned to join them, finding Sy hugging his mother. She smiled at the sight. She walked over to greet her sister-in-law and her husband, confirming that they'd meet up at the restaurant. With that, she went to the car, deciding to give Sy some more time with his family, and herself an occasion to take a few breaths and calm her buzzing heart.

"You didn't tell me my mom had gotten herself a boyfriend." Sy grumbled immediately as he sat down next to her in the car, putting on his seatbelt.

Ada turned on the engine and backed out of the spot. "I knew you wouldn't like it," she defended before casting a side glance at him. "Besides, I figured it wasn't my place to tell you."

Sy hummed noncommittally, removing his cap to rake his hand through his cropped hair.

"Though, as much as I don't exactly like your mother," Ada added quietly, "she's been on her own ever since your dad passed a couple years ago. With your father gone and you away, she must have felt lonely.”

°°°

Sy spent the rest of the drive mulling over her words in his head. The fuck was that supposed to mean? As soon as a woman feels lonely, she takes up a boyfriend?! Was Ada lonely too while he was away and… He wanted to ask if she was implying anything but then one look at her and he decided against it. Breathing out deeply, he forces himself to relax. He was just stressed out and on edge.

It was inevitable that things would have changed while he had been away. That was something he thought about frequently late at night when he got to be alone. Still, he hoped things hadn’t changed all too much. Ada still looked just as she had on their road trip to Vegas, focused on the road but leaning back on her seat, just one hand on the wheel with a grin on her lips. His wife loved driving.

"You got your nails done." Sy commented, already hoping the whole dinner thing would be over quickly so that he could go home with her.

Ada turned to him with a chuckle for a second, wriggling her graceful fingers and red painted nails, her wedding band reflecting the light. "I wanted to look pretty for you."

Sy huffed. "You always look pretty to me, Ada," he said and then watched her scoff.

"Or maybe, I just wanted to make sure I'd be able to scratch you up nicely," she wife winked.

Yeah, this dinner thing couldn't be over fast enough.

°°°

Ada saw him eat so much over dinner, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was going to be sick later. And, of course, the double serving of smoked ribs had to be accompanied with generous amounts of beer and whisky. She didn0t blame him, though. Out of curiosity, she once researched what they ate while on deployment and it looked anything but tasty. If she had been in his shoes, she'd have been eating her own weight in pizza and brownies right now.

It also didn’t help that his brother-in-law and his mom's new boyfriend, Phil from the hardware store, kept asking him about Baqubah and even touching on the subject of the explosion. It was obvious how uncomfortable the subject made him, his grip tightening around his knife and his jaw tensing up so tightly, she could imagine his teeth grinding.

So, Sy kept asking for refills, raising his glass, and giving them vague answers, but it seemed they didn't get the hint. At least, the subject changed when his sister interrupted the conversation to announce she was expecting again. A little girl.

Ada used the moments of cheer that followed to excuse herself from the table and go to the restroom. She was still somewhat nervous and her face was damp. She would have given anything for a glass of scotch at that moment but she was driving tonight.

Helen, Sy's mom appeared right behind her just as she was washing her hands. She hoped the woman would just disappear inside a stall but she wasn’t that lucky.

"Jack is back." Helen stated, arms crossed. A shiver ran through Ada's spine, damn she hated that woman. "For good."

Ada dried her hands with a paper towel, looking back at her mother-in-law through the mirror. "He is."

"Now's the time to prove yourself to this family and show us that Sy was right in marrying you.”

Before Ada could ask what the hell that was supposed to mean, Helen finally disappeared inside a stall. Rolling her eyes, Ada went to leave the restrooms when Helen decides to add some more venom. "Maybe a good start would be calling him by his first name, as a wife would."

°°°

"When do you start at Camp Mabry?" Ada asked, looking away from the steering wheel to glance at him for a second. Sy looked exhausted, not that she could she blame him after three different flights and a seemingly endless dinner. They had finally called it a night once the kids had started getting fussy.

"January 15th." He replied. "But they want me to stop by before then to have a look around the base and sign the contract."

"You're going to boss the hell out of the new recruits," Ada laughed, getting him to lighten up and even chuckle.

"You'd be surprised to know I'm actually a fair and considerate captain," Sy defended himself.

Next to him, Ada huffed as she tried stiffing the bubble of laughter, trying not miss the right exit off the main road.

"I just value discipline and compliance a lot," he added, his tone growing teasing.

This time, she was unable to stop her laugh. "Believe me, I know you do."

The drive was a short one to their house in the suburbs and she was soon parking her in their driveaway.

Ada fumbled with the key as she tried opening the front door, nervousness setting back in as she felt Sy standing behind her, holding his duffel bag. He followed in quickly after her, once she had finally managed to open the door.

"Welcome home, captain!" Ada cheered in her silliest tone as he discarded his bag on the floor.

Then, before she could even react, Sy was on her. His arms lifted her up, his body caging hers against the wall before capturing her lips in the most ferocious kiss she could imagine.

Out of instinct, her legs locked around his waist and her hands dug into his shoulders, unwilling to let go of him now that he was finally there. Sy grinned against her lips, amused by her fervour, not that he felt any different.

He broke off the kiss as he pulled them away from the wall, freeing a hand to shrug her coat off her shoulders. "You ain't gonna need that, darlin'," he promised, throwing the coat in the direction of the kitchen, not caring where it landed.

Then his mouth latched on to her throat, forcing a delicious moan out of his wife as he carefully manoeuvred them upstairs, still steady on his feet despite the alcohol. Sy was almost surprised when he pushed open the door to their bedroom with his foot and it didn't squeak, but that thought was fleeting as Ada started rolling her hips against his. Suddenly, nothing else mattered. Not the war, not the explosion or his guilt, only the woman in his arms.

Unceremoniously, he let her fall on the bed, the urgency now flowing through his blood keeping him from doing things the gentleman way. Ada didn't mind, giggling as she unzipped her dress and slid the red thing over her head, along with her bra. Apparently, she had decided to forego panties. Sy stood there, almost mesmerised as he watched her, suddenly not certain if he dared tainting her with his touch but Ada quickly made that decision for him as she got up on her knees.

"A little less staring and a little more undressing, captain," she purred with a smirk, her fingers determined as they made quick work of the buttons on his shirt.

"That's it, darlin'. You're in for it now," Sy roared, pulling her in for another furious kiss before pushing her back against the mattress, making her land on her back as he got undressed in record time. Fuck, was he hard.

"Open up for your captain." Sy ordered and Ada complied instantly, her legs falling open for him as she peered up at him, holding herself up on her elbows and worrying her lower lip between her teeth. "That's a good girl," he praised.

Without losing another second, Sy settled in between her legs, wrapping his strong arms around her thighs and parting them to their limits. He wanted to worship her body the way she deserved, show her exactly just how appreciative he was of her, how much he craved her, but it had been months and Sy was a starving man who had just been presented with the perfect meal.

"Fuck Sy!" Ada screamed out, her back arching off the bed the instant he licked her just where she craved him most. He chuckled against her, marvelling at how wet she already was for him.

She tried closing her legs around his head, rejoicing at the feeling of his beard rubbing against her sensitive skin and never wanting him to leave again, but his arms were too strong for her clenching thighs. She was left defenceless against his assault, with no choice but to obscenely moan her pleasure and let herself cum against his tongue as his thumb expertly massaged her clit.

The coil inside her snapped and her body tensed up before letting go just as suddenly, her now damp back falling back on the mattress. "Fuck, Sy." Ada breathed out, her chest heaving as she tried to reopen her eyes only to find her husband playfully gazing up at her, smirking with her arousal glistening on his beard. The sight alone almost made her cum again. "I'll never let you leave again!"

He smiled in response, placing a kiss on her lower stomach before crawling up her body. "I've no intention to, baby," he promised.

Ada caught a glimpse of his hard, flushed erection as his body slid over hers, realizing in her post-orgasmic haze that she was in for an even bigger treat now. She could taste herself in his mouth as they kissed, his hand slithering behind her back to seize her shoulder and hold her closer. Teasingly, he started rolling his hips, his hard clock rubbing against her slick cunt, coating himself with arousal before finally, he found his way inside her, burying his head next to hers in the pillow.

Ada whimpered as he did so, her eyes tearing up as his clock slid inside her. She had evidently grown unaccustomed to his girth and length in his absence. Sy paused immediately, his muscles tense as he looked at her with concern. “You okay?” She nodded in silence, wanting him to start moving but Sy looked unconvinced, using all his strength to keep still despite his desire to fuck her right into the mattress. Without a warning, Ada tightly wrapped her legs around his hips, making him go deeper. Sy let out a reverberating groan. “God, darlin’. I missed you.”

He started thrusting into her with such vigour, such determination it felt as if he was trying to bury himself so deep inside her, no one would ever be able to pry him away from her again. It did hurt, her cervix was getting battered with each of his hard movements but she found herself enjoying the pain because it was him; it was Sy and he was right there with her, back in her arms, and she could feel his heart beat beneath her fingertips as her hand gripped at his chest.

"Fuck, I'm... I’m," Ada gasped incoherently, her nails now scratching the skin of his back. Sy was sure there would be marks there in the morning which made him enjoy the sensation even more.

"I got you," he rasped. If possible, he pulled her even tighter to him, his pubic bone now rubbing against hers in that delicious way only he was able to do. Her slick walls were now contracting around him, her second orgasm impending. "Fuck," he groaned, his breath coming out in a stutter. "Are you...Can I...?"

Sy didn't have to word it, she knew what he meant. "Cum in me, Sy. Please," she almost begged.

Her words did it. His hips stuttered as he pushed in deep just when his orgasm washed over him, exploding inside her. His face contorted with pleasure and that sight alone had her fast tracking her fall over the figurative edge. He had his face buried on the crook of her neck, muffling his groans and moans against her skin as the dam gave way within her.

°°°

Sy grunted against his pillow, slowly waking up the following morning. He was convinced he was just rousing after a very nice dream and he was ready to toss his alarm clock across the room, furious at the object for interrupting his dream, that for once, had been a good one. With a startle, Sy realized that no blasting alarm had woken him up but the sunlight on his face. Opening his eyes, he felt almost as if on foreign ground. He was home.

As quietly as he could manage, Sy turned around in bed, seeking his wife only to find her side empty. Just at that moment, he heard cursing coming up from the kitchen and scoffed. He’d bet his life Ada was cracking eggs, something she hated.

Feeling rested and in a much more relaxed mood than the previous day, Sy got out of bed and started searching for a pair of boxer briefs so he could go join her downstairs when he caught a sniff of himself. Fuck, did he stink. How Ada hadn’t thrown him out of bed, he didn’t know.

Out of habit, Sy hurried to the en-suite bathroom, wanting to shower as fast as possible before realizing that this time around, it was different. He wasn’t going back, he didn’t have to rush, their time together wasn’t counted. With that in mind, Sy forced himself to take his time, enjoying the act of brushing his teeth in a bathroom that smelled nice and showering with warm water. Ada had purchased his usual brands of shower gel and toothpaste, he noticed, even putting a red bow around his brand-new toothbrush by the sink. Even though he initially wanted to take his time to enjoy it, Sy still ended up rushing as he dried himself with a blue fluffy towel he didn’t recognize from his previous stay. He didn’t bother putting on anything more than his boxer briefs before heading downstairs. If he was lucky, he wouldn’t keep them on for long either.

Sy walked into one of the best sights he had even seen, when he entered the kitchen. Ada was standing in front of the stove, rhythmically tapping the black spatula against her naked thigh as she focused on the eggs and bacon she was preparing. The thin negligee - or whatever she called it, he always forgot - barely covered her ass and that outfit alone was one of the reasons he never minded that she always cracked up the heat so high, he felt like he was back under the hot desert sun.

Silent and stealthy like a predator despite his stature, Sy sneaked up on her from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist, feeling her startle before relaxing once she noticed it was him. She smelled heavenly, Sy thought, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Watcha got cooking, darlin'?"

"Obviously breakfast," she sassed, making him softly pinch her ass in response. Ada squealed and jumped up. "Good morning to you too, Sy," she said but not before slapping the handle of the spatula against his thigh. He decided to let it slide... for now.

"Morning darlin'," he answered, kissing the crown of her head before darting his fingers into the pan and picking up a piece of bacon. It was sizzling hot, but the taste was worth it. He had missed being home! Speaking of being home... "What do you say we take the food and coffee upstairs and have ourselves breakfast in bed?" His tone failed to hide his true intentions.

Ada scoffed, the back of her head rubbing on his hairy chest and she shook her head. "Nice try but I actually intend to feed you. Your mother will have my head if I let you go hungry."

It was Sy's turn to laugh, his hands now roaming her body as she leaned forward to turn off the stove, pressing her ass against his crotch and eliciting a husky groan from him. "I'm hungry enough to eat both breakfast and you, don't worry."

Ada turned around, a huge grin on her angelic face. "Alright, you win. What do you say, we have breakfast, we do the kinky and then go grocery shopping?"

Sy tried hiding his smile but it was a lost cause. He loved it when she talked like that. He loved her, point. "Yes, ma'am."

#henry cavill smut #syverson smut #henry cavill x ofc #syverson x ofc #henry cavill x reader #syverson x reader

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let-the-dream-begin · 3 years

Text

In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 30: Family

Chapter 29

Read on AO3

November 27th

Jamie felt a flutter of excitement as he rang the doorbell to the Abernathy home. It was the Sunday after Thanksgiving, and neither doctor had had the day off on Thursday. Claire had mentioned they’d done exactly this last year. Claire had casually asked if Jamie wanted to make a pie or pick one up, and he’d stared at her, bewildered.

“Ehm...fer what?”

Claire eyed him as if he’d asked what color the sky was. “For Thanksgiving?”

“Oh! I...thought ye spent it wi’ Joe’s family...”

She blinked at him like he had two heads. “Yes. And you’re coming.”

And that was that.

This was a big step for them as a couple, as a potential family, and Jamie knew it. He knew better than to make a big deal out of it to Claire, but that simple assumption that of course he’d be celebrating with Claire’s adopted family had made him fit to burst with joy. The next day, Jamie had texted her:

speaking of holidays and families, how do you feel about spending christmas with mine?

She’d replied hours later, likely during her first break of the day:

I’d absolutely love to.

So they were there now. They were officially bringing each other “home for the holidays.” Well, Jamie’s family was coming here to avoid putting Faith through air travel, but still. If somebody had asked Jamie last Thanksgiving or last Christmas if he’d ever imagined this, with her, with them, he’d have told them they were crazy.

That morning, they’d gone to see Moana. The local movie theater did half-priced tickets before noon, and the movie had come out the day before Thanksgiving. Jamie had told Claire that he and his family always went to the cinema on Christmas Eve and Boxing Day; since the closest one to Lallybroch was an hour away, it was a special occasion. Claire had immediately lit up, declaring that they had to go on Thanksgiving. Rather, their makeshift Thanksgiving. Claire had never actually brought Faith to the movies before, but the place was empty aside from one other family, so it was perfect. She was in heaven. She was absolutely enthralled by the hugeness of the screen, the colors, the music. They’d sat near the front in the wider aisle where the railing was, meant for handicapped viewers, so Faith could run around or lean on the railing, dangling Horsie over the edge with her mouth agape. Claire had bought the album on iTunes on the way home, anticipating that Faith would want to play the music all day, and she’d been right. Jamie already knew almost every word to “How Far I’ll Go.” He wondered if it would hold up against “Let it Go” for Faith, but only time would tell.

A gust of November wind brought Jamie back to the moment, and the front door opened to reveal Joe, white teeth flashing against his dark skin in a radiant grin.

“Ah, there he is!” Joe enthusiastically clapped Jamie on the shoulder with one hand, and shook Jamie’s hand with the other. “It is so good to have you here, Jamie.”

“Hello to you too,” Claire said wryly.

“Come on, I see you all the time,” Joe said. At that moment, Faith slipped right out of Claire’s grip and bounded inside, humming loudly and flapping her hands wildly.

Claire rolled her eyes at both Faith’s escape and Joe. Jamie watched with amusement as Gail appeared at the end of the hallway and exclaimed in surprise as Faith barreled into her.

“Sweet Jesus!”

Joe ushered Jamie, Claire, and Angus, leash held by Claire, into the house.

“Well it’s nice to see you, crazy bean!” Gail said, laughing, and Faith disappeared into the living room. “Dee-Dee! They’re here, and Faith is looking for you!”

Jamie handed off the pie (that he’d made from scratch, of course) to Gail, and insisted on helping her finish with the hors d'oeuvres and the drinks. Faith darted about, in and out of the rooms, until the pitter-patter of little feet coming down the stairs had her running back into the hallway. By the time all the adults were settled with finger foods and drinks, Delia and Faith were already in the corner of the room, engaged with dolls and a little house. Even Faith’s Horsie was involved in the game, of course.

“They did this last year too,” Claire said as they sat down on the couch. “We got here and Dee-Dee had a whole spread. It was adorable.”

“She does it every time she knows she’s coming over,” Gail said.

“Aye, I remember her at Faith’s party; she’s a sweet one,” Jamie said fondly.

“Thanks,” Gail said.

“And that one got so big!” Claire exclaimed, looking at Lenny, sat in his own corner with a tablet. “Last Thanksgiving he still looked like a baby.”

“Four years old, you believe that?” Joe said, shaking his head.

“Oh, I believe it,” Claire said, eyeing Faith. “They grow too fast.”

“Oh my gosh, Claire, I never even asked.” Gail said, putting down her drink. “Faith started school!”

“Yeah, she did.”

“You were scared shitless,” Gail dropped her voice to a low whisper.

Claire chuckled. “Yes, I certainly was.”

Jamie put his hand lightly on Claire’s knee, and she took it, seemingly without thinking about it. They laced their fingers together with practiced ease, and Jamie squeezed.

“You mentioned at work the first day went okay,” Joe said. “How’s she been since then?”

“Really good, actually,” Claire said. Jamie could feel the warmth of glowing pride radiating from her. “She stopped having any bathroom problems, finally, and she hasn’t had to call home or either of us at work in a while. Which is good, because it’s hard when I’m at the hospital or if Jamie’s with a client...but I think we’re finally past that.”

“That’s great,” Gail said.

“I can tell she still doesn’t really love it. It’s a bit of a fight to get her on the bus after a weekend or a break. Monday should be really fun,” she rolled her eyes, “but she’s doing it. She’s getting her stickers when she earns them and prizes and after school treats.”

“Claire is doing all the right things,” Jamie cut in. “It’s hard to motivate her sometimes, but as long as she’s on the bus in the morning, then we’ve done all we can do.”

“Right,” Gail said.

“Remember after Labor Day when she would not get on, no matter what I did?”

“Aye, I do. I had to leave the stables to try to get her on myself.”

“I couldn’t believe the driver waited that long.” Claire covered her face and shook her head at the memory. “If that never happens again, it’ll be too soon.”

The adults shared a quiet laugh.

“I see she’s got a communication device now?” Joe said, gesturing to the tablet resting next to Faith. “The school provides that?”

“Yeah,” Claire said. “She’s been getting more and more comfortable with it lately. She still signs for her basic needs, and Mummy, but she loves being able to say ‘Angus,’ and all your names, and Gillian’s name, and Jamie’s. I don’t want her to lose the signing, but this is a great additional tool.”

“Yeah, of course,” Gail said. “I saw that video on Facebook that you posted, when she first figured out the ‘Mummy’ button.”

“Oh, yeah,” Claire smiled fondly at the memory, and so did Jamie. When it had first clicked for Faith that there was a word on her device for every sign, she could not get enough of saying “Mummy,” calling out to her beloved mother in a brand new way. “She did the same thing to Jamie the next time we saw him.”

“Over and over,” Jamie confirmed. “It was sweet.��

“Until the third hour,” Claire said, and Jamie could tell she was only half-kidding. He didn’t blame her at all.

Jamie was about to ask about how Delia was doing in school, how pre-k was for Lenny, when Joe spoke again.

“How are you guys?” He raised both of his eyebrows coyly. “I mean, it seems like it’s...going really well. Yeah?”

Jamie watched a blush creep up Claire’s neck and touch her cheeks with color. She flashed her eyes at Jamie, who felt warmth spreading from head to toe.

“We’re great,” Jamie answered, looking into Claire’s eyes and raising her fingers to his lips. “Really great.”

——

December 17th

As Claire approached the door to Jamie’s apartment, shopping bag and leash in one hand, Faith’s hand in the other, she heard a loud shriek from the other side of the door. Faith let go of Claire’s hand to clamp her hands over her ears, and Claire’s stomach dropped.

Off to a great start.

Claire was nervous beyond all reason to meet Jamie’s family. They’d gotten off the plane from Scotland two days ago, wanting to give themselves plenty of time before the holidays, and wanting to meet Claire and Faith at least once before then. Jamie decided on a little pizza party at his place.

Claire begged and pleaded with Faith to calm down, but she would not move until presented with her headphones. Claire sighed in defeat and put them on her. She knew deep down that Jamie’s family would bear no judgement on her in the slightest, but she really hadn’t wanted their first impression of her and her daughter to be flustered mother of an irritable daughter.

The door opened while Claire was still kneeling on the ground, and she looked up in a panic, relief washing over her to see that it was only Jamie.

“Sorry about that,” he said sheepishly. “Wee Jamie is a bit of an imp.”

Claire stood up, laughing nervously. “Oh, hi, sorry.” She tried taking Faith’s hand again, but Faith recoiled, reaching up to Jamie instead. Claire rolled her eyes upward, and Jamie grinned.

“Aye, alright, let’s get ye in out of the cold.” He obliged Faith, lifting her up and settling her on his hip, leading the way into the apartment. Faith rubbed her cheek against Jamie’s, delighting in the stubble, and Claire peered around Jamie to see the face that she’d come to be so familiar with but had never actually seen in person. Jenny was sitting on the couch feeding star-shaped puffs to a toddler, and the just as familiar Ian was holding a little boy over his shoulder.

“Everyone,” Jamie announced. “This is Claire. And this is Faith.”

Jenny launched herself off the couch and handed the baby off to Ian, who expertly handled holding both children at once.

“It’s great to finally meet ye, Claire,” Jenny said, throwing her arms around her in a bone crushing hug.

Claire started in surprise at first, but then returned the embrace. Her embrace was warm, soft and solid all at once, much like Jamie. She was wearing an oversized cream sweater, similar to Claire’s own white cable-knit turtleneck. “Hi, I’m so glad to finally meet you, too.”

“I’m Jenny, as ye probably guessed,” she went on, pulling away from the embrace, but keeping a hand on one of Claire’s shoulders. “That’s my husband, Ian.”

“Hallo,” Ian gestured with his chin in greeting. “This heathen is Wee Jamie,” he turned around to show Claire his face, given that his feet were previously facing her, “and this is Maggie.” He turned back around.

“Great to meet you, all three of you,” Claire said, laughing.

Just then, Claire noticed the man that had appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, smiling down at her. Everything about him was warmth, strength, and comfort.

“Claire,” he said, his voice deep and laced with the deepest affection.

“Hi,” Claire said sheepishly, her smile hurting her cheeks. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mister Fraser. Jamie speaks so highly of you.”

“Och, I’ll no’ have ye calling me that. Ye’ll call me Brian, Da, whatever ye’re comfortable with.” He stepped in toward her and pulled her in for a hug that was somehow tighter than Jenny’s. “Ye’re family, lass.”

Claire squeezed him back, this man she had just met, and tears pinpricked her eyes.

My family.

Brian pulled away and gripped her shoulders, looking into her face. “Christ, my heart’s full to see ye.”

“Let her breathe, Da,” Jenny chided. “Here, let me take this. And give yer coats to Ian.” Jenny took the paper bag of crisps and cookies in Claire’s hand like this was her own home and disappeared with it into the kitchen.

Ian put little Jamie down and pointed a threatening finger at him, and the boy grinned impishly as his father took Claire’s coat, then Faith’s, from Jamie.

“Hi!” he burst to Claire. “Are ye my Auntie now?”

“Oh, I…”

“Jamie…”

“Oi, why d’ye no’ play wi’ the Wii, lad,” Jamie cut in. The boy bounced with excitement, planting his bottom on the coffee table right in front of the tellie. “Quietly, now,” Jamie warned, setting up a game for him with Faith in his arms all the while. She refused to be put down.

“That’s her, then? Wee Faith?” Brian watched as Jamie shifted her to his other hip after finishing setting up Jamie’s game.

“Yes, that’s my girl,” Claire answered, pride warming her chest.

“Beautiful,” Brian breathed, beaming at her as Jamie approached his father. “Yer spitting image.”

“Thank you,” Claire said. She stroked Faith’s cheek, who was still rubbing her face and arms against Jamie’s stubbled jaw.

Brian hummed in amusement. “Willie used to do that to me,” he said. “It’s comforting to them.”

“Yes, I suppose it is.” Claire’s eyes flicked nervously to Jamie, but he seemed alright. Perhaps they spoke fondly of Jamie’s brother often. She’d have to get used to that.

Jenny flitted back in from the kitchen and chided her brother for letting her son play with brain-rotting video games, but Jamie just rolled his eyes and sat down, Angus settling at his feet at attention for Faith.

“I didn’t even know you had a Wii,” Claire said, sitting down beside him.

“Aye, well,” he winked, “how else would I kick yer arse in Mario Kart?”

Claire snorted quietly and fought the urge to swat at his arm in front of his family. Ian sat down next to Jamie with Maggie, Brian sat on the leather recliner in the corner, and Jenny sat on the edge of the coffee table facing the couch.

“So! This is the wee lass I’ve heard so much about?” Jenny beamed at Faith.

“Aye, she canna hear ye just now wi’ these on; wee Jamie gave her a fright.”

“Och, I’m so sorry,” Jenny said. “I did try to explain to him — ”

“No, it’s okay. He's so young.”

“Aye, and a menace to society already.” Jenny rolled her eyes, and Claire chuckled. “I’m just grateful he didna make a run fer the dog. He retained that from our talk at least.”

She was obviously referring to the fact that when Angus was working, he could not be pet. Claire did catch a few longing glances at the animal from the little boy, but he was being very good.

After a few minutes, with Angus’s help, Jamie managed to coax Faith into taking the headphones off.

“There you go, good girl,” Claire praised. “She’d never take them off without Jamie here. He’s absolutely wonderful with her.”

“Aye, and she’s quite taken wi’ him as well,” Jenny said smiling at the way Faith was nuzzled into his neck.

“We’ve a…special bond,” Jamie said, his eyes twinkling. “Aye, princess?” He bounced her on his knee, and she giggled.

“Look, lass, this is Jenny,” Jamie said. “Can ye say hi?”

She buried her face further.

“She’s very shy,” Claire explained. “Strangers are a little tricky. But I promise the more she’s with you, the better it gets. Even Jamie was a scary stranger at some point. Right, lovie?”

Jenny and Ian laughed softly.

“I really appreciate you all coming here,” Claire said. “It can’t be easy traveling with little ones.”

“Och, ’twas nae bother,” Ian said. “Glad to do it.”

“We hardly ever get to see Jamie’s place anyway,” Jenny added. “We’ve only been to the Island…what, once or twice before?” Ian nodded in confirmation. “It’s nice to see the life he’s made here. And the stables are just great.”

“Aye, we’re very proud of the work Jamie does,” Brian cut in, the pride oozing out of his every feature.

“You should be. He’s…he’s got a special touch with those kids,” Claire said, unable to stop the heart eyes she knew she was giving Jamie. “He changes lives. I know he changed Faith’s, and mine for that matter. Even before, well…this.” She blushed, realizing she was rambling. Jamie reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze, likely sensing her embarrassment.

“Aye, well it’s good ye ken how lucky ye are,” Jenny said. “Ye’ll no’ find a better man than my brother.”

“Christ, Janet…” It was Jamie’s turn to turn scarlet.

“I’m being nice, Jamie! I could go on instead about how difficult ye are to live with…”

“Claire doesna need a speech about treating me right,” he said. “She’s doing just fine.”

“That wasna what I meant.”

But given the look that Ian shot her, that was indeed what she’d meant. Though a little uncomfortable, Claire did not blame her. Jamie was her little brother after all, and Claire knew by now how deeply he felt things, how sensitive he was. Somebody cruel could tear him to pieces.

“It’s okay,” Claire cut in. “I know what you meant.” She squeezed Jamie’s hand.

“Aye, good. Well, it’s no’ as if it doesna go both ways. When Jamie sent me yer Facebook profile, I gave him an earful about how damned lucky he was,” Jenny said, and Claire bit her lip to stifle a grin.

“Janet…”

“What! Ye’re embarrassed? I couldna very well meet her. No shame in sending me something to get to know her by!”

If Jamie could have melted into the couch, Claire was sure he would have.

“Jamie went on and on about ye last Christmas, ye and the lass both,” Jenny explained. Claire’s heart fluttered to think that his family knew about her all the way back then, when she was still so far in denial she couldn’t see past her own nose. “So I was bloody curious what was so special about ye. Didna take long to see it, I’ll say that.” She smiled fondly at Claire, her eyes twinkling.

“Well…thank you. I think.”

“What Jenny is trying to say,” Ian cut in. “Is that we’re glad ye’re here, and we’re grateful to ye fer the joy ye bring our brother. Both of ye.”

“Aye, cheers to that.” Brian lifted his whisky from where he sat and took a sip.

“You know,” Claire said. “I heard all about this little one after the holidays last year.” She looked around Jamie and Faith at Maggie. “Jamie showed me pictures of her. She’s just adorable. I mean, both of your children are beautiful, of course.”

“D’ye want to hold her?” Ian offered.

Claire’s heart fluttered. “Could I?”

“Aye, of course.”

They both scooted forward for the exchange.

“Have to pish anyway.”

Jamie clapped Ian on the shoulder as he got up to leave, and Claire sighed loudly as the small weight settled in her lap.

“Well, hello!” she cooed, smiling enormously at Maggie’s sweet face. “Aren’t you the cutest little thing.” She bounced the baby in her lap, and she smiled lazily at her before breaking into the sweetest little giggles. Claire laughed in response, her head light and dizzy from the euphoria of holding a baby.

“Oh…I haven’t held one this small since Faith,” she sighed. “She’s just so sweet. Such a perfectly behaved baby.”

“Aye, she’s night and day wi’ that one.” Jenny nodded behind her to Jamie, engrossed in the game on the tellie.

Maggie gave another squealing giggle, and Faith abruptly sat up for the first time since burrowing into Jamie’s side.

“Ye look bonny wi’ a bairn, Sassenach.”

Claire looked up from Maggie to see Jamie boring smoldering diamonds into her, and she felt herself turn to a puddle. She’d be lying if she said she’d never thought about having another baby, and she’d also be lying if she said the thought of having one with Jamie hadn’t immediately crossed her mind the second she laid eyes on Maggie’s darling face.

They maintained eye contact for a long moment, and then Faith reached forward and grabbed the baby’s face, and Claire gasped, pulling Maggie into her.

“Gentle, Faith,” Jamie said quickly, as gently as he could muster. “The baby is very wee, and very sensitive. Ye must be gentle.”

“Gentle like with Pippi,” Claire added.

Faith bit her lip and sat up again, and then she gently stroked her fingers down the line of Maggie’s nose. Claire and Jamie both burst out laughing, and Faith hummed loudly, jiggling her hands and bouncing in Jamie’s lap.

“Pippi’s her horse?” Jenny said, chuckling herself.

“Aye!” Jamie said through his laughter, and then Jenny and Brian were also laughing out loud.

“What’d I miss?” Ian returned from the bathroom and sat back down on the couch.

“Faith started petting Maggie like her horse because we told her to be gentle,” Jamie explained, laughter finally subsiding. “Good girl, Faith,” he said.

“Come here, baby,” Claire summoned her closer. Faith clambered onto Jamie’s other leg. “You don’t have to pet her nose. Look.” Claire stroked Maggie’s head, then rubbed her back, all while bouncing her. “See? Gentle.”

Faith hummed loudly again, bouncing and jiggling.

“Calm down, lass,” Jamie crooned. “Ye canna play wi’ the bairn if ye canna be calm.”

Faith managed to stop one of her hands from flapping as she gingerly patted Maggie’s little head. Maggie turned to look at her, and Faith squealed.

“Yes, good job,” Claire said.

“Oh, how sweet,” Jenny said. “Ye’re a sweet girl, Faith.”

Faith did not turn at the sound of her name, but Claire beamed at Jenny. “She loves babies,” Claire said. “One of the moms brought her baby to the stables one day, and I had to hold Faith back from throwing herself in the stroller.”

Jenny chuckled. “She’ll make a braw big sister, then.”

“Janet,” Jamie warned, but Jenny just put her hands up in surrender, and Claire’s cheeks flushed red.

Faith gave another loud hum, and then she scrambled off of Jamie’s lap. She pattered over to the bag Claire had left by the door that contained both of her tablets and some emergency snacks that Claire had packed. She reached in for the school-provided tablet and walked back to the couch, standing in front of Claire and Maggie. She clicked around for a bit, and then she pressed the word she wanted to say.

“Play.”

Claire broke into a stupid, beaming grin. “You want to play with Maggie?”

Faith jumped up and down, letting out a squeal that gave way to a hum. “Play.”

“You’re so smart, good girl, sweetheart,” Claire praised. She looked to Jenny, who motioned for Claire to follow her. Claire set Maggie down on the floor as Jenny set out some toys she had brought.

“Play.”

“Yes, darling, we hear you, one moment please.”

Before long, Jenny had shown Faith all of Maggie’s toys, and Maggie was chewing on one while Faith became engrossed with the little baby piano toy. Jenny sat beside Maggie and Claire beside Faith, each making sure that Faith remained gentle and calm. They conversed over the children and across the room to the men. Claire learned how Jenny and Ian had gotten together, learned about the antics of all three of them growing up together, and at one point, she had tears leaking out of her eyes from laughing so hard at a story Brian told about the lads and the pigsty.

Faith would occasionally take Maggie’s hand and make her press buttons on various toys, some more gentle than others, but Maggie did not seem to mind. Little Jamie only got too loud on his video game one time, and one stern word from his mother was enough to assure it did not happen again.

The pizza delivery arrived, and there was a flurry of motion to get everyone into the kitchen. Parents all made sure that little ones’ hands were clean, and plates and cups were set out. Claire watched in awe as Jamie pulled a pizza plate out of his cabinet.

“Where on Earth did this come from?”

“I bought one,” Jamie said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “If the lass is gonnae eat pizza in my home she’ll have a pizza plate.”

Claire didn’t have the heart to tell him that Faith was not picky about what she ate off of if she wasn’t home, so she let Jamie hand the plate to Faith, both of their faces glowing with joy. Jamie turned around to grab the juice from the fridge and Claire went to help him, and by the time they both turned around, Brian was cutting Faith’s pizza on the plate, and Claire stopped in her tracks to stare.

“Ye’re family, lass.”

Jamie noticed, and he looked back and forth between his father and Claire, his eyes twinkling. He hugged her around the shoulders with one arm and kissed her temple.

“They’re as crazy about her as I am.”

Jamie crossed the rest of the way to the table, and Claire wiped her eyes quickly before following.

“I like her pizza plate,” wee Jamie announced, crossing his arms.

“Well, it’s Faith’s pizza plate,” Ian said firmly. “Ye’ll eat off yer own plate, and ye’ll like it.”

“Why do I no’ get one?”

“Because ye dinna have all the worries and troubles in yer heid that Faith has. The pizza plate helps her feel better. Now eat.”

The table was crowded, not meant for nearly as many people as were there, folding chairs squished between the wooden ones, but they made it work. Maggie was passed between laps so that her parents could eat, and everyone took turns handing her tiny pieces of saucy, non-cheesy, soft pizza to chew on. The conversation passed easily as they talked more about Jamie’s childhood; they even asked about Claire’s. She had plenty to tell about her adventures with her uncle, stories that she loved sharing with anybody who would listen.

Once the pizza was gone, Faith disappeared into the living room and returned with one of the DVDs that Claire had packed. Jamie helped her get it set up, and then little Jamie and Faith were sitting on the couch, watching Lilo and Stitch, and Ian was putting Maggie to sleep in the stroller that they were leaving in Jamie’s room.

The adults stayed at the kitchen table with drinks, and Claire held Jamie’s hand under the table, his other hand stroking her knee and thigh absently. Conversation with this family was easy and familiar, as if she’d known them her whole life. She did not feel like an outsider as she’d predicted she might. The feeling of belonging enveloped her like a warm hug. Then she’d remember Jenny helping Faith play with Maggie, Brian cutting her pizza, Ian explaining to little Jamie why Faith was different, and she would well up with tears.

Family gatherings in England made Claire sick with anxiety and made Faith utterly miserable, which just made everything worse. The Christmas before Frank left, when Faith was three, Claire had cried herself to sleep with his parents’ sneers burned into her subconscious. But this…

This was acceptance, understanding, welcoming, joy, warmth, comfort.

This was family.

108 notes · View notes

anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Attached: Words We Don’t Mean

(...and Those We Do)

Type: series, modern-college-professor Steve AU… aka the wrong attachment AU ;)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 7950 👀

Summary: Your parents decide to visit for Thanksgiving, which alone is a trial.

The fact that they haven’t met Steve yet and they have no clue who he is… yeah, you better brace yourself for a storm.

A/N: Attached: Words We Don’t Mean (and Those We Do) is a one-shot to the Attached series. Technically, you can read it as a standalone.

A/N: In the Stockings fic, I mentioned that no one in their household talked about (last) Thanksgiving. Here’s why. Also: I named the parents Paul and Jane, it’s enough of a mess to work around with nameless reader; if that offends you, sorry, feel free to move on from this fic.

Warnings: angst, parents-daughter fight, mention of sexual relationhips and of using one’s body to earn money (negative view), mild flashback, emotional H/C, swearing, sprinkles of fluff and Disney

Story masterlist

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

“Sweetheart, please, sit down for just a second,” Steve requested gently; however, there was no mistaking the drop of amusement in his voice.

You hummed in acknowledgement of his words and continued scrubbing the bathtub clean.

Everything had to be perfect. Had to be. You bought the tinniest of the giant turkeys yesterday – just so you wouldn’t have to eat leftovers for a month –, ingredients for the stuffing, potatoes and cranberry sauce. Your mum had promised to stop by somewhere to get four slices of a pumpkin pie. But cooking was on your list later today; first you needed to make sure that the apartment would shine with cleanness.

Not that you considered yourself a neat freak, thank you very much… maybe occasionally. And Steve? Yeah, he was more of a neat freak than you were and now he was telling you to rest and take it easy? Uh-huh, nope.

Nope, because… your parents -- gosh, your parents.

“Honey-“

Your head snapped to him as he bounced off of the doorframe, soft steps leading him right to you.

“Did you just call me honey?” you asked incredulously.

Not that you didn’t like it, it was just-- you were Steve’s sweetheart, his babygirl, his good girl… now honey? That was new and frankly, it might have freaked you out a bit.

Also, your heart skipped a frantic beat upon looking at him.

Damn, you forgot again about what he had done yesterday and it always startled you to see him like that. Too unusual – not bad-looking by any means, just… unusual.

Steve chuckled as he crouched to you, dropping a kiss to the top of your head and cupping your mildly sweaty cheek. He grimaced a bit at your surprised tone.

“Not a fan?”

“I mean, yeah, sure, hun, it’s just that… it’s a bit ominous, the change.”

One corner of his lips rose at your choice of a petname. “That’s because you’re freaking out and I need you to calm down a bit, sweetheart.”

Your eyebrows shot up and you scoffed, rather offended. Mostly because he was right – but also because he was being a damn hypocrite.

“Oh, am I? Me? Did I spend about an hour in front of the mirror yesterday, trying and almost failing to solve the dilemma whether I should or shouldn’t shave off my beard?”

Steve’s face turned entirely sour at your snarky remark.

“Don’t be mean, it’s a valid concern to-- I don’t want them to hate me,” he murmured and dropped his gaze in shame along with his hand, seemingly shrinking into himself, his insecurity returning.

You sighed and mentally cursed yourself for bringing it up again.

You dropped the brush to the tub with a thud and lost one of your gloves, wiping the ew feeling onto your old sweats before you tried to smoothen the worried wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“They’re gonna love you, Steve,” you assured him again, letting you fingers travel over his clean-shaved jaw, lightly pulling at his cheek to make him smile again. “I miss the beard, not gonna lie, but you do have an extremely sweet boy-next-door look now, you are my handsome, funny, smart as hell guy, who’s somehow all grown up and has life stuff figured out and you’re making me happy. You’re the epitome of the guy a girl wants to bring home to meet her parents.”

Despite slightly panting from exertion, you took care to sound as convincing as possible, pushing away your own worries for a bit.

Steve was your perfect guy, perfection incarnated; you weren’t worried about him not making an impression… except for the fact that Steve did have a few years on you and worked at the uni and—well.

Yet, you couldn’t but dread the moment your parents realized that you were everything but perfect since they let you loose on the world. You had never been the daughter to show off like the epitome of everything good and wholesome, but you always tried your best to please them…. Now though? Darting your professor? Even if he wasn’t exactly your professor?

Yeah, you didn’t think that a spotless apartment could make up for that, but it helped to ease your anxiety when you kept lying to yourself that it just might.

Steve grasped your palm in his, planting a tiny kiss there – a gesture to warm your heart, always – his lips once again curled up a fraction as his gaze met yours, his mesmerizing blues kind and hopeful.

“You really think so?”

“Of course.”

And with the way he was looking at you – you finally figured it out. Just a fleeting thought and an answer to an unspoken question you had been failing to grasp at since yesterday; it escaped your lips before you could stop yourself.

“Gosh, you look like a Disney prince!”

Steve’s eyes went comically wide, laughter erupting from his throat and he pulled you to him in one swift motion, falling on his ass with you in his arms in the process and nearly getting crushed by you. Clearly, he did not care one bit as he shook with laughter, kissing your nose, your cheeks and finally your lips despite your protests that you were gross.

“That’s golden! Oh babygirl, you’re the-”

“Tell me I’m Cinderella, I dare you,” you grumbled, but Steve just shook his head and kissed you breathless, fingers of one hand curled around your nape to guide you closer, to breathe you in, while his other hand stayed wrapped around your waist.

You tried your best not to touch him with your gloved hand, having it ridiculously stretched out to nowhere in order not to spot his clothes, but your free hand clutched at his t-shirt with enthusiasm.

His lips left yours only when the world started spinning and your mind turned blank besides the thought of Steve’s mouth being on yours and how much you loved it when he stole all the breath from your lungs – and how much you always missed him when he withdrew.

You stared at him, dumbstruck, as he watched you like you were the eighth wonder of the world, your messy self in baggy clothes, your heart growing three times its size, your insides positively tingly from the heated make-out session.

Steve was smiling again too at last, brushing your nose with his and planting one last soft kiss on your lips.

“Okay, babygirl, now hand over the brush.”

You had to blink several times, your oh so lazy brain taking its time to realize what he said. Huh? Also, did he just said it as if he was asking you were a robber holding a hostage on gunpoint and he was asking you to lay down your weapon?

The thought made you internally snort.

“Why?” you demanded, suspicious.

“Because I’m taking over.”

You instantly shook your head. “No-“

“Yes. I promise I’ll make sure it’s spotless-“

Okay, yeah, that was one of our arguments against him doing the clean-up. However, there was one more. “But you still have papers to grade and lessons to prepare!”

“And you want to cook too and then we’ll have to clean up the kitchen. And you’ll want to take a shower and and and. Papers can wait. Gimme the brush.”

“You make it sound like it’s a weapon of mass destruction… or I am,” you muttered, but you kissed his cheek – such a strange feeling, you truly missed the sensation of his beard scraping your lips – and climbed out of his lap with a meek and cautious thank you. He cackled at your antics, but quickly fished out a new pair of gloves from the bathroom drawer and started working.

You swallowed your smart remark about him being the Cinderella now. Mostly because his gesture was one of the sweetest things and really – seeing Steve scrubbing the bathtub might not be the sexiest thing in the world… but it kinda was.

It pulled at your heartstrings as you imagined that this might be how it would always be; you and Steve, settling together, taking care of the household, then cuddling on the couch—the domesticity you hadn’t always been sure you craved.

Now you were certain of it; but to get to that, you had to survive your parents’ visit first.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

You had somewhat stayed in touch with your parents, mostly with your mum; you two had been calling on a so-so regular basis, sometimes with video, and both her and your father were obviously aware that you had a boyfriend (gee, that sounded kinda trivial, a boyfriend). In fact, Steve played a huge role in them deciding to purchase their plane tickets… besides wanting to see New York City… and you.

The thing was… you had managed to keep Steve’s identity secret so far; you never used a videocall when he was around, so your mum only had heard his voice, sweet and polite in the most Steve fashion possible, you sort-of danced around his age and his job. Yeah, you found it strange as well that you kept it up so long, a divine intervention even; or maybe your mum simply had a good idea of your dirty secret all along and purposely didn’t probe.

Now, with your parents in the apartment, your dad’s eyes more on Steve than on you (your mum’s eyes wandered too, you noticed, but she had enough decency to show you she missed you first), you felt dread fill every cell in your body. Your heart was pounding in your chest with too much ferocity, your temples pulsing, your palms uncharacteristically sweaty and if it wasn’t for Steve’s warm hand on your lower back, its weight oh so comforting, you might spontaneously combust because of your nerves.

You were suddenly entirely grateful that Steve had shaved off his beard, was giving less of a an incredibly hot (and still very young, thank you very much) professor vibe and looked--- well, kinda like he could be your classmate.

But of course, of course the subject came up. Inevitably, after the small talk about your parents’ flight, about how their job was going and if they picked up a new hobby (…or heard some gossip), you and Steve became the centre of attention.

First, things went smoothly enough; you talked a bit about school, about Penny and some of your classmates and professors, about your part-time job. Steve had been subtly drawing small comforting circles on your thigh whenever he wasn’t eating and he in fact succeeded in lowering your heartbeat so much that you might appear even calm.

And then it oh so predictably went to shit.

Because apparently, your materialistic father had to ask Steve what he was studying and what his plan for his future career was.

“I actually finished my studies,” Steve admitted in an admirably dispassionate manner.

Meanwhile, your own heart started racing again, sending you to the verge of a cardiac arrest; your father’s eyes narrowed slightly, but a hint of a smile played in the corners of his lips in effort to remain polite… for now.

“Oh? Was that recently?”

You deflected that question by bringing up the pie and snatching Steve with you to bring it to the table since you two were the hosts.

The question forgotten, your mum – god bless her, she had caught up enough to know you did not want to discuss Steve’s age, even if it wasn’t that bad – asked about Steve’s field of study.

“History, minoring in pedagogics.”

“Oh? So you are a history teacher?” your dad chimed in and you swallowed as Steve confirmed that claim, walking straight into a death trap. You had seen it coming, you had, but you still winced when your father’s icy tone cut the almost festive atmosphere. “And it wouldn’t be that you’re more of a university professor, would it?”

His hand balled into a fist on the table, your mother’s lightly covering it as she whispered his name; the gesture of comfort, a silent plea for him to stay calm, didn’t quite work.

Steve, to his benefit, looked only a bit sheepish, meeting your dad’s eye with bravery worth of the Disney prince you had called him earlier that day. Also, with the same honesty… why hadn’t you agreed on lying to them again?

“It would, sir.”

“Oh. I don’t suppose then that it is a coincidence that you two met in school?” your dad continued and you sighed, your breathing progressively turning into a more and more of a difficult task with the anticipation of a storm.

“It is not, sir,” Steve replied calmly and you honestly didn’t know whether you should kiss him or punch him, unsure if his attitude made your father madder or not. “However-“

Your father’s gaze snapped to you, sharp and enraged; you felt yourself sink into your chair involuntarily, your mind travelling years back to the moments when he wasn’t pleased with you at all, yelled and sputtered words tasting of venom.

“Do you have any explanation for this inappropriate joke?” you father hissed, not caring he interrupted whatever Steve was about to say to your defence.

Your chest grew heavy, edges of your vision blurring subtly; your eyes burned and suddenly, you weren’t only remembering. You were reliving a memory, feeling like your child-self, like your teenage-self, being scolded for every imperfection; and there had been generous amount of those as you had been growing up.

Steve’s hand somehow slid under the table again, squeezing yours, a gentle wave of attempted comfort washing over you.

But it took one glance at him and you understood that silent support was not the only goal of his when he sought your touch.

His jaw was set tight, his grip a little too strong; he was trying to maintain composure, while not at all impressed with the tone your father was speaking with you.

Yet, Steve’s gesture did provide you with something you hadn’t had whenever you faced your father before; strength and true support, the essential reminder that you had done nothing wrong.

“Dad, this is not a joke,” you said, your voice shaking only slightly as you squeezed Steve’s hand back, “Steve and I are dating. Yes, he is teaching at the same college I study, but-“

A fist hit the table, causing the remaining tableware clank with the force behind the blow and you winced in fright, all muscles tensing in an instant.

“There is no ‘but’ applicable in this case!” your father spitted out, the anger in his voice making your guts twist, the sting in your eyes intensifying. “We help you to pay for school so you could study, not sleep around!”

Several things happened at once; your mother admonished your father, a level-headed whisper of his name. Your voice, too quiet as always when your father reprimanded you, tried to protest, to defend yourself. And Steve’s patience ran out, his outrage at your father’s demeanour showing.

“Paul-“

“That’s not what’s-“

“Don’t talk to her like that!“

“You keep your mouth shut now,” you father snapped at Steve, pointing a finger at him accusingly before turning his rage towards you again, the deep disappointment in his eyes somehow more hurtful than the anger. “Is it that bad with your grades that you have to—to--- Jesus Christ.“

The world stopped for several frantic beats of your heart, everything else in standstill. Multiple sharp breaths were drawn in, but you didn’t think either of them was yours.

Your father’s unfinished sentence echoed in your ears as if from a terrible distance and just like that—just like that, you were thrown several months back to the days before your graduation.

Rogers’ whore

Bet she’ll get the highest score

The icy feeling that froze your bones and crystalized the blood in your veins made for a stark contrast to the few hot tears you were distantly aware of that were running down your cheeks.

Many had thought of you that you were a set of holes to fill for the professor in exchange for passing an exam or two, which was disgusting, deeply insulting and obviously wrong. But those people didn’t know you- they weren’t your blood.

Your own father was now seconds from calling you a whore. The dinner turned into a stone in your stomach as the verbal punch knocked all air from your lungs.

“Paul!” you heard a swift reproach, quickly followed by Steve’s voice, dangerously low in a threat. “I’m sorry, what did you just imply about her?”

“You zip it-“

“Paul!”

It felt like a fucking elephant stomped on your chest, the spiral of pity and despair, mocking voices swirling wildly, tossing you around with a quickening speed as the circles got smaller and smaller, as if you were circling down the drain, your breaths coming shorter and shorter too-

And yet your father still continued, ignorant to all warnings and your inner turmoil.

“That’s over, my dear. I refuse to support such disgusting thing. And you, I don’t see how it’s possible that you still have your job-“

“DAD!” a loud cry cut off the monologue and it took you a moment to realize that it was you who just snapped and yelled, despite the unmistakable addressing.

Your father stared at you in mute shock as you dared to interrupt him; and frankly, with the world spinning, your stomach twisted and your chest constricted with anxiety, you were shocked by your actions too.

It was the fact that he doubted Steve’s position at the uni, flashed through your mind, the way he insulted the man you loved and who deserved all the good things. Or maybe it was his fucking attitude towards Steve and you in general and you just finally reached your limit. You weren’t sure; but shit, this ended now.

The silence that fell on the room granted you a few moments to breathe and calm your frantic mind.

“He is not using me like some f-“ -fuckdoll- “-fling or whatever. And he’s not even my professor, he’s-“

“Like it matters!” you father snapped from his trance, spitting the words, a vein on his temple visibly popping up as he rose to his feet swiftly, nearly sending the chair flying to the ground.

You stared up at him, the coil of despair and rage in your gut burning hot as he literally looked down on you.

You hadn’t been ready for this. You hadn’t been ready for your father to despise you for being in a relationship with a great man, to judge you so harshly without being able to listen for a damn second.

“It DOES. But even if he was-“ you tried to explain again, losing patience and the ground under your feet too as Steve’s hand started practically crushing the bones of yours.

You could physically feel Steve trying to hold back and slowly succumb to his not so nice emotions no doubt swirling in him just like in you.

“How can you not see that’s he’s only looking to get his---” your father gestured wildly towards Steve and rather low and you could hear Steve’s teeth grinding at the implication. Your blood reached the boiling point. How dared he to- “-that he’s only seeking a physical thing-“

“That’s not what this is. I love your daughter-“ Steve emphasized, expression fiery, voice surprisingly measured for a man who you believed was one moment from punching your father.

“Sure you do, son, until something with long legs and tall heels walks by-“

Steve’s chair scrapped against the floor and you quickly laid a palm over his chest to stop him from jumping to his feet and succumb to his righteous anger.

“Steve-“ you whispered soothingly, seeing the light tremble to his hands, tendons dancing under his shirt with the effort to hold back.

“Paul, that’s enough,” your mother interjected, grabbing her husband’s wrist to keep him back as well.

“I do love your daughter, I respect her and I fully intend-“

Steve closed his eyes as he inhaled shakily to compose himself. In the very back of your mind, you spared a single thought to what he was going to say before he shook his head and looked your father dead in the eye again.

“-I am serious about her and I want to and will be with her as long as she’ll have me.”

You had two full seconds to sink into the gentle sentiment behind his words, to cherish how much he did respect your choices and strangely, how he still doubted he could be enough for you, before your father scoffed dismissively.

“Well, I hope you are serious, because if she comes crawling back in few weeks, the door and the account will be closed.” He shot you one disdainful look that made your heart stop before twisting his arm from your mother’s hold and stepping away from the table. “We’re leaving.”

Your eyes slipped shut, a fresh wave of hot tears painting your cheeks, all strength leaving your body, darkness enveloping your mind.

He was cutting you off. He was going to disown you no doubt; that much of a disappointment you were to him.

Your own father hated you.

Dull ringing filled your ears, muffling your mother’s low voice.

“I’m so sorry for his behaviour.” She sounded truly regretful, her voice quivering a bit, you thought. “I’ll talk to him about what he said. Thank you for the dinner, baby. It was nice to meet you, Steve, truly.”

“You too, ma’am,” Steve responded firmly, his voice the only solid thing in the room. “I’ll—I’ll walk you out.”

“That’s not necessary, Steve. But thank you. I’ll call you, sweetheart.”

A low whisper about a promise fell from her lips next as she brushed your shoulder, but you couldn’t hope to understand what she was saying, the buzz of blood in your ears growing louder.

And then you knew she was gone along with your father. You knew because a warm hand touched yours, another gently wiping way the endless waterfall of your tears and then you were pulled to your feet and practically dragged to the couch in Steve’s protective embrace.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

You wouldn’t be able to tell how long you were drenching Steve’s shirt in tears, sobbing into his chest as he held you firmly and yet tenderly, whispering sweet nothings, words of comfort empty and yet so meaningful.

You couldn’t tell how long it took for the tremble subdue, for the sobs to turn into sniffles and then die out entirely.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so so sorry,” Steve whispered to your hair, caressing your scalp, your back the next, dropping a kiss to the top of your head.

“I know,” you creaked back, gripping the fabric of his shirt for one last time before you gathered your breath and courage to face him; you had to. You might be a mess, but it was vital that he heard you say this: “It’s not your fault.”

You withdrew slightly, meeting his eyes, so big and regretful, a bit watery as if he was the one crying. The corners of his lips, apparently having been turned down the whole time, twitched, his whole face twisting in a grimace; little sad, little defiant, but he didn’t protest even though you were certain that he wanted to.

Perhaps it was a testimony of how well you two fit, how your thoughts worked on the same wavelengths; you understood what he must have been thinking. If you were dating literally anybody else, this wouldn’t have happened.

So you had to assure him that you didn’t blame him; even if he did so himself. You didn’t have the energy to be angry with him for such thing. Mostly because that in a way, there was a tiny bit of truth in him thinking so.

“Don’t do that to yourself. I chose you. Yes, this relationship is on both of us… but we knew the risks and went for it anyway. And—it’s worth it, it’s just… fuck, this is so fucked up. I’m in such a mess now,” you whispered, your voice breaking as fresh tears burned in your eyes.

Steve’s fingers were quick to dry your cheeks, gently stroking, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“We are, babygirl. We’re in this together. What’s mine is yours,” Steve said, determined. You couldn’t find yourself sharing his optimism, but his eyes locked onto yours, serious as his words. “We’ll figure it out. Find ways of saving more. Hell, if it comes to that, I’ll try to find a job that pays better-”

Your palms landed on his chest, pushing away, putting some distance between you; his hand dropped from your face.

Say WHAT?

“Absolutely not!” you protested instantly, sobering from your despair and letting indignation take over, ignoring entirely the voice in your head sweetly nudging you with the idea of what Steve was willing to give up for you. “I’ll drop off college before I let you give up being a professor, Steve-- you are made-“

“Not an option, sweetheart,” he shot back instantly, expression turning strict. “You leaving college is off the table.”

Mentally, you threw your hands up in the air, growing confused and frustrated by the minute.

“Why? How is that different from you finding a new job, giving up something you worked for so hard?”

“The difference is,” Steve raised his voice slightly, speaking slowly as if he wanted you to remember every word, “-that the chances are that I could come back at some point, that I might only lose a few years. You dropping off, on the other hand, would affect your whole future.”

The same exasperation you felt burned in his eyes now and you gulped, realization hitting you that… yeah, okay, that was a good point. But you hated it anyway.

“…okay, that’s a fair point. But I rather work three jobs and didn’t sleep at all than seeing you leave the university.”

“And work yourself to the ground? I don’t think so, babygirl,” Steve shook his head, just a smidge of patronizing which stung more than you would expect.

Obviously, he was presenting you with more of a feasible option, but you had a feeling that the primal instinct to be the provider played a role in his attitude too – and at any given moment besides this one you would like that; you were completely fine with him wanting to ensure you were secured, taking the larger portion of the burden on his shoulders.

Except now it reminded you of your father in the worst possible way despite knowing that the sentiment was nothing but sweet, no malice in his intentions. It chased tears into your eyes.

Steve’s expression instantly melted, panic flashing in his eyes as he must have figured out that this was not the right thing to say… or not the right way.

His hands were quick to frame you face, tender but unwavering, forcing you to look him straight in the eye.

“Hey, hey, no. It’s just… we’ll work it out, somehow, okay? We can even move out and share an apartment with someone else if we need to. Though you’re forgetting I used to pay this rent and bills on my own.”

Your lower lip quivered, your heart fluttering in fondness for this incredible man, your chest constricted at the idea of taking anything away from him, even if it was comfort. God, the distance he was willing to walk…

“You were living on school cafeteria food and ramen,” you mumbled, corners of your lips twitching upwards for the shortest moment.

Steve’s smile, on the other hand, was almost blinding, tight-lipped but honest, thumbs sweeping at the tears that appeared yet again.

“See, another possibility to save money. Don’t cry, my pretty girl…” he pleaded lowly, kissing your nose before shaking his head lightly. “Or cry if you need to. I’m here, sweetheart, okay? Whatever you need.”

Shit, your heart couldn’t hope to contain this amount of love-

How could anyone ever doubt Steve was the right man for you? The best man? The most wonderful loving human being? How did your father think he was just looking for a mindless fuck?

“I love you,” you whispered hoarsely, smiling through your tears. “Fuck my father. He can’t bully me into being his perfect daughter by cutting me off, can’t make me behave. There’s nothing wrong with me loving you.”

“Or me loving you.”

There was no questioning his honesty; it was written all over his features, his irises bright with emotion. And yet, you worried your teeth over your lower lip, insecurity, your old friend, crawling into your head.

“You do, really? Even with my asshole of a dad?”

You didn’t mean it. Entirely. Though momentarily, your dad was being an asshole, not for the first time.

“Yeah, sweetheart. You’re my everything,” Steve promised, releasing your face in order to tuck messy loose strands of your hair behind your ears.

“That’s the sweetest thing to say, but you can’t exactly sell me to put food to your mouth-“ Oh. Even though… maybe that would be an option? “Well, technically-“

All the gentle warmth radiating from Steve’s expression turned ice cold, smile dropping so fast it startled you.

“Don’t you even-“

“Hey, why not, I mean how much do you think-“

“Stop that right now!” Steve’s voice cut you off, razor sharp voice as if cutting into your skin.

You flinched at the mental blow on instinct, air stuck in your throat, muscles in your back straightening enough to inflict a sharp pounding in your head.

Steve closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling painstakingly slow, as if he got punched in his gut too. His fists on your sides clenched and unclenched, Adam’s apple bobbing. When he looked at you again, it was obvious he realized he had scared you – and that he regretted not keeping his anger in check.

“I’m sorry, babygirl, I didn’t mean for it to come out this harsh.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, focusing on nothing but your breathing and keeping yourself from sobbing again as you were reminded of your father’s yelling. With each long second, you could see Steve’s face twisting and his body sinking into the couch in shame.

Well. As much as you hated him snapping at you, you had to give it to him – it sobered you up. Frankly, you didn’t blame him for being so harsh.

But you were also aware that Steve was a painfully kind and gentle soul and he never wanted to be rough with you… well, except under certain very consensual special circumstances.

“I know,” you forced an unconvincing smile, laying your palm on his cheek, affection Steve was quick to lean into with a sigh – probably both relieved and content. “I’m sorry for talking stupid.”

He covered your hand with his, carefully manipulating it so he could brush his lips over your palm.

“You’re not, not really. Our heads are a mess, rightfully so. I know people still do that, some purely by choice, but—I don’t want that for you, ever. That’s the same level on a will-never-happen scale like you not continuing your masters. Not an option for me. You’re my girl and if someone’s gonna change their habits, it’s gonna be me first.”

The surge of affection at his words filled your stomach with butterflies, wrapping around you like the softest and warmest comforter.

Great, now you wanted to cry for a whole different reason.

“I don’t deserve you,” spilled from your lips before you could think twice. Steve’s sweet smile made its return.

“Other way around, babygirl. Other way around…. Now how does a bath and a bed sound?”

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Steve hadn’t planned on you and him having a bath when making the suggestion. He found a bath-bomb even and few candles so the light wouldn’t have to be on and hurt your previously teary eyes.

But then you looked at him with wide eyes, pleading and so vulnerable, a single look so heartfelt that it would make the devil’s black heart break and the angels weep – and he was done for, sinking into the bath with you even if the bathtub was not meant for more than one person, especially when one of them was of Steve’s built.

He couldn’t tell you no. Less so after the shitstorm the dinner had turned into.

Yes, Steve’s own emotions were running high, anger, disappointment and self-hatred he knew he couldn’t confess to, certainly not at the moment, but you. You were the priority here because he had a feeling that no matter how overwhelmed he felt, he had nothing on you.

The ceramics of the tub was hard against his back and against his knees at the side, but you fit into his arms and between his legs so perfectly and contentedly that he wouldn’t dare to complain. Head in the crook of his neck, your back to his chest, you melted into him, eyes closed, fingers absently and yet affectionately running over his forearms above water, sometimes along his calves.

You didn’t talk much, mostly repeating that it wasn’t his fault, that you loved him – something he found himself echoing every time – and it slipped through your lips too that while you would never change the fact that you picked him… you were sorry for being a disappointment to your father.

At that, something in Steve’s chest cracked and he swore to himself – that he would never ever be the cause of you feeling like a disappointment. And why would he – you were his perfect girl, his best girl. As much as he regretted that he indirectly did have a hand in making you feel like this now, he wouldn’t change who you were to each other and who you were had he had the chance. Never.

What he could do was to hold you tighter after your admission and whisper more sweet nonsense that made perfect sense to him to your ear.

By the time the water got cold, you were practically asleep, completely groggy, pliant. Somehow, you both climbed from the tub without sustaining any injury. He might have been holding you upright a bit as you both brushed your teeth and pulled on a pyjama.

You fell asleep almost instantly, face hidden in Steve’s chest, few stray tears dampening his sleepshirt as you mumbled one more love confession into the fabric.

“I love you, Steve... I’m sorry… you have to put up with such bullshit…” Your words slurred but Steve didn’t need to hear them to understand what you were saying.

He dropped a kiss to the top of your head, pulling you closer to his side, ignoring the sting of guilt in his gut.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he whispered, earning a hum that might have been a sign of contentment… or you being entirely drained. “Let’s go to sleep now. Clearer head in the morning.”

Another hum and then nothing but your deep slow breathing, the last remnants of tension leaving your body.

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Steve didn’t think he would follow you to the dreamland anytime soon, too agitated, thoughts swirling wildly in his head, but he caught himself snapping back to consciousness at some point, unsure when he fell asleep – and what woke him up.

An intrusive buzzing on your nightstand provided him with the answer, your phone lit up.

Steve spared you one glance as you stirred only to nuzzle deeper into his frame, sighing.

As carefully as he could so he wouldn’t wake you, he stretched over you and checked who was calling.

Blood crystalized in his veins, heart sent into frenzy as he read a simple short word.

Mom.

He squeezed the side button, silencing the vibration as he pondered what to do; and yet, even as his heart jumped to his throat – as if he was a teenager about to face his girlfriend’s parents after he took her virginity – he had already made a decision, accepting the call as you sank into the cushions without him as a pillow.

He slipped from the room as silently and quickly as possible, announcing himself before you mother could say something not meant for his ears.

“Oh. Hello, Steve,” your mother greeted him, clearly surprised – but much to Steve’s relief, not angry.

He could do this, he could talk to your mother even with the lump in his throat; could have been much worse. Could have been your father and Steve wasn’t so sure if he would manage him. For one, he would hate to be reminded, once again, of what the numerous hate letters had told him about being a total perv; for two, Steve feared he might exchange words with your father that couldn’t have been taken back and would seal the damage done to the relationship with your parents .

“I’m sorry, ma’am. She fell asleep and—I can wake her, of course, but-“ He stumbled over his words and was immensely grateful when your mother saved him from his misery; more se when she said what she did.

“-but she had a rough night. We all did. I’m okay to talk to you, Steve.”

“Alright… how can I help, ma’am?”

“Tell me how bad she is, Steve? She stopped crying before she falling asleep?” the woman on the other side asked softly, causing Steve’s heart to squeeze in a painful memory of his own kind mother, God bless her soul.

And perhaps it was that very memory that encouraged him to speak openly, the genuine worry of a mother who cared deeply for her child, her heart full of love.

How such woman could end up with such an asshole and stay with him was beyond Steve’s understanding, but he certainly wasn’t in position to judge the choices of the women in your family – after all, he was your choice and there was a long line of people who looked at the two with disdain.

“For a while,” Steve admitted with a sigh, his gaze automatically flickering towards the bedroom. “She’s—she feels like she disappointed you in a way, she’s scared of the what’s next, but she’s angry too, because she doesn’t think she did anything wrong by being with me.”

And Steve thought the same… to a point. Didn’t matter that sometimes he would find himself in a dark place where he simply awaited the moment you’d change your mind and left him; for someone your age, with better looks, someone smarted, someone funnier, someone who didn’t have to shave off his beard just so your parents made it through the front door without yelling.

Such gloomy images always left him more desperate than he was comfortable admitting and with searing jealousy in his gut.

He needed you. Yes, he’d survive if you left – but he was certain that you’d take his heart with him, leaving him unable to fall in love ever again… or to feel whole, for that matter.

“She wouldn’t leave you to get her financial support back, Steve,” sounded gently on the other end of the line and Steve’s heart skipped a beat in alarm, brief wonder if he had said any of his latest thoughts out loud.

He supposed he didn’t – your mother was just too intuitive, just like his used to be. He gulped against his dry throat, suddenly guilty for – in a way – forcing you to leave them.

“…I suppose not… I’m sorry if-- it was never my intention to steal your daughter from you, but I’m- I’m not gonna pretend I mind that she would rather be with me than had her money.”

“This is not your doing, Steve, don’t you think I don’t know that,” she continued, a subtle smile in her voice, Steve thought. “And it’s good that she’s willing to make this choice. We wouldn’t want the bride to get cold feet, after all.”

Steve’s heart stopped altogether, he was sure of it. Colour him mortified.

How the hell—but- she couldn’t--- he hadn’t proposed yet and he- what?

His stomach twisted in a tight knot. He couldn’t but ask, voice barely above whisper.

“…how did you know?”

“You stopped yourself mid-sentence, Steve. And as cliché as it sounds, you had fire in your eyes, defending my daughter. It is clear to me that you are serious about her, that you love her, and from the little I heard about you, you are the kind of man who would put a ring on it to seal the deal.”

You mother was definitely smiling now and Steve found himself doing the same, even if the lift of his lips turned sour.

“I would have asked for parents’ blessings, but…”

“I give it,” she was quick to assure him and Steve’s breath hitched, his chest puffing with pride, filling with endless relief and joy. Your mother approved of him. Even knowing who he was, how old he was, how—she was willing to give him her blessing! “You seem like a good man, Steve.”

Steve was both embarrassed and ridiculously proud when he realized he was blinking against tears gathering in his eyes, enormous weight falling from his shoulders.

“That, uhm—that means a lot, truly,” he choked out, swiftly clearing his throat, the embarrassment definitely winning now. He had to get it together before he gave out how weak he could be in front of your mother… she had given her blessing; she could easily take it back.

“I like you, Steve. You’re a good blend of an old-fashioned and modern man. Don’t mess it up and keep my daughter happy.”

“I will try my best, ma’am,” he declared in an instant, meaning every word.

A sigh sounded from the speaker. “That’s all I ask for… now the less happy reason to call. I talked to Paul, but he… I’m sorry, Steve, as for now, he still isn’t fond of you.” That didn’t surprise Steve, but it hurt nonetheless. Then again, he was grateful that your mother tried to put in a good word for him; that meant a lot too. “He only agreed to pay for three more months.”

Steve’s free hand balled into fist, the other clutching the phone considerably tighter as hot surge of anger flooded his veins.

Three more payments. As if the relationship with your family was a damn job contract and this was the notice period.

Steve was sure he was going to be sick.

“Thank you. That’s… we appreciate it,” he managed to grit through his teeth, trying his damnest to remember that he wasn’t mad at the sweet woman – only at her husband.

“You really are a good man, Steve. You’re good for her. I’m glad she found you.”

Steve would once again be entirely joyful at being at least your mother’s favour, but he heard you call out his name from the bedroom, low, hoarse and utterly confused and all he could focus on was the idea of you, red-rimmed eyes and messy hair and still adorable, looking for him in the dark room with a pout to your lips.

“Steve?” your mother called out unsurely and Steve snapped from his reverie.

“Sorry, uhm, she’s awake-- do you want me to hand you over or-“ he blurted out swiftly, hoping the answer would be no as he couldn’t wait to crawl back to bed with you.

“No, just tell her I called. I believe you two have things to talk about. Take care of my daughter, Steve. I’ll be in touch.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Jane, Steve,” she offered kindly just as Steve heard the soft patting on your fluffy socks on the floor.

“Yes, Jane,” he corrected himself then, unable to contain the satisfaction as he tested the name on his tongue. “Thank you, really. Goodnight.”

He ended the call as you emerged from the bedroom, squinting to the low light, your eyes instantly finding him – he automatically smiled for you, unsubtly splaying his arms wide. You didn’t hesitate, aiming straight into his embrace even if it was at snail pace.

It was funny and strange and wonderful how Steve still loved simply holding you, his heart calmer the moment he found you melting into his frame. Christ, he loved you… and clearly, your mother noticed; he was so obvious, that-

“You were gone,” you muttered into his chest discontentedly, nuzzling into him and Steve automatically cradled you to him tighter.

“Sorry, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you admitted bluntly, propping your chin on his torso to look up at him, eyes growing wide and surprisingly soft with emotion. “More so because I was talking stupid and crying into your shirt instead of comforting you after my dad accused you of the things that--- those things that aren’t right.”

Steve felt the painful nudge to his consciousness, because he knew there always would be some truth to ‘those’ words; but you were here to dilute the pain and make it all better. Your care for his well-being served like a shield for the sticks and stones for now at least, when you were the priority. You had it worse at the moment, no matter what his former colleague had accused him of in those hate letters – and now your father.

“Hey, no. Don’t worry about me now.”

You gazed into his eyes, pushing on your tiptoes to peck his lips and the small gesture of affection was like a balm to his soul, much like your words.

“But I do. Always. I love you, Steve… I’m sorry we can’t catch a break… but we’ll… somehow, we’ll push through, right?” you whispered, hopeful and wistfully determined and Steve could only nod, feeling the corners of his lips rising.

“Absolutely, sweetheart. You’re my girl.”

“And you’re my guy. My prince charming,” you hummed, cradling his unusually smooth cheek, irises full of wonder, the sensation was as foreign to you as it was to him. But it was your babble that made him chuckle, the nickname that seemed to catch on; you were too cute for words. “Guess I am Cinderella after all and somehow you accidentally fell in love with me.”

“Damn right I did,” he confirmed, brushing your forehead with his lips before tugging you back to the bedroom. “Not all that glitters is gold.”

“True. Though you might have some glitter from the bathbomb on you.”

“Cheeky girl.”

He didn’t bother pretending to be offended or grumpy; he was simply too happy to see some of your snarky teasing side making its return, that was always a good sign.

“I try… but really, are you okay?”

Steve didn’t respond at first, climbing to the bed, manoeuvring you to his arms where you belonged and fit so naturally. Only when the lights were out and you were both comfortable, he replied, truthfully.

“I will be. I have you. Plus, your mum seems to be okay with me.”

More than okay, apparently.

Steve’s heart fluttered with a bit of nerves as his mind wandered to the ring he kept in the very room you fell asleep every night.

“As she should,” you hummed, sounding very pleased. “She has a nose for good people. And you’re the best.”

“After you at least.”

“Best man, then,” you argued playfully and Steve was perfectly content to have you think that. It would play in his favour when he would finally find the courage to sink to one knee in front of you.

“Well, I’m certainly a lucky one… I have the best woman.”

“Uh-huh. Sure you do. Love you,” you whispered, kissing his chest over the fabric of his sleepshirt and sighing blissfully. “Goodnight, Steve.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you too.”

If you only knew how much…

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S.R.masterlist

Attached masterlist

Stockings (next in timeline)

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Wink wink. I once again stretched this quite a bit, but hopefully you reached this very end without skipping something ;)

Thank you for reading and extra thanks if you happen to like, reblog and/or comment. Stay safe and happy!

(Also, to American friends: I hope you'll have better Thanksgiving than this ;) )

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sparring-hyena · 3 years

Text

the time of our lives.

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

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

i. New Year’s Eve.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ii. Valentine’s Day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

iii. spring break.

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

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

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

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

iv. summer break.

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

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

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

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

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

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

v. Halloween.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

vi. Thanksgiving.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what?”

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

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

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

“oh. sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

vii. Christmas.

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

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

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

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

viii. New Year’s Eve.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#my writing #poppy x mc #poppy min sinclair #queen b #playchoices #this story 100% ignores canon #it also combines a number of holiday related requests i've gotten but just didn't get around to writing #hope that's all good :)

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dccomicsimagines · 4 years

Text

What’s Lost is Found - Batfamily Imagine - Part Eight

Warning - Depressive Thoughts, Angst Content

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Six.Five Part Seven Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

***

“So you knocked up Kori,” Jason said, taking a bite of his pizza. You snorted. Dick glared at Jason while Kori just shrugged. Jon bit his lip to keep from smiling.

“You really have class, don’t you, Jay?” Dick took a drink of his water. You had all sat down to dinner, and Jason decided to use this opportunity to piss off Dick. It was nice to see Dick annoyed with someone else for once.

Jason winked at you. “Of course, classy is my middle name.” You smiled back at him. Dick glanced over at you, frowning.

“So why are you here, Jason?” Dick asked sharply. Jon took your hand under the table, still trying to keep a smile off his face. He was still on thin ice with Dick and had to be on his best behavior.

“I told you. Jason is here for work,” Kori said, happily taking her fifth slice of pizza. You squeezed Jon’s hand.

Jason eyed Jon. “Has Dick given you the talk yet?” He laughed when Jon’s face turned bright red.

You smacked Jason’s arm. “Stop it.” Jon swallowed hard, turning away to cough into his arm.

Jason crossed his arms, clearly enjoying himself. “To answer your question, Dickieboy, I came to keep an eye on things.” He shared a long look with Dick. Dick bit his lip. You felt the heaviness of a secret in their gaze.

“Hey, if it’s about the bounty on my head, I want to know.” You narrowed your eyes as Dick gave you a pained look. “I can know. I won’t get sick.” Jason raised an eyebrow curiously. You wondered if he was informed about your setback at Thanksgiving.

“Let’s not talk about this at the table,” Kori said smoothly. She put her hand on Dick’s. Dick sighed, focusing on his slice of pizza.

Jon squeezed your hand tighter. You caught his eye, knowing he shared your frustration. Silence hovered around the table, bordering on awkward. You played with your half-eatened slice before slipping it onto Jon’s plate. He happily finished it for you. “Can Jon and I be excused?” you asked, glowering at Dick, daring him to say no.

“Of course,” Kori said before Dick could open his mouth. You quickly got up and headed up to your room. Jon followed once he downed his drink.

“Don’t do anything that Dick would do,” Jason called after you.

“Oh, give it a rest,” Dick snapped back at him. You and Jon shared amused looks before you both entered your bedroom and closed the door.

Jon sat down on your bed. “Jason likes to cause trouble, doesn’t he?”

You smiled, laying down beside him. “He likes to push buttons. Always did.” Jon took your hand again. His warmth soaked into you. “I hate that they won’t tell me.”

“They think they are protecting you.” Jon laid back beside you, kissing your cheek. “It’s frustrating, I know. My dad does the same thing.”

You hummed, staring up at the ceiling. “Maybe someone figured out where I was? That’s probably why Jason’s here. He’s here to provide more protection.”

Jon’s finger traced your brow. “I love it when you get that focused look on your face.” You eyed him only for him to give you a dopey smile. “So, I wanted to ask you something.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“I know you’re graduating this year, and that you don’t really care about high school experiences.” He kissed your nose. Suspicion filled you. “But my high school’s prom is coming up and I wanted to know if you would go with me?”

“Prom?” You sat up, shocked. “Like dress up and dance in a school gym?”

Jon chuckled. “Yeah, but our prom is more exciting than that. We do a walk so everyone can take pictures, then we have fancy dinner and dance. After that, we all change into our prom t-shirts and we get to see a hypnotist and hang out at the carnival they set up for us.”

You blinked. “Oh.” You pursed your lips. Even if it sounded painful, you realized you would get to share it with Jon. He looked at you with those hopeful, blue eyes and you could only give one answer. “Sure, I’ll go with you.”

Jon grinned before kissing you hard on the lips. You laughed, kissing him back. Your fingers ran though his hair. “Great.” Jon sighed as his phone rang. He pulled away with a groan, answering the phone. “Yes Mom?” He winked at you, listening. “Yeah, I’ll be home in ten minutes.” Jon chuckled. “They said yes.”

“Tell her not to tell Dick or Kori. I want to drop that on them,” you said, smirking as you thought of all the ways you could surprise Dick. Jason’s presence must have brought out the mischievous side of you.

“Mom said okay, but as long as you tell them soon, so they can work out plane tickets and everything,” Jon said after he hung up the phone. “Let me know how it goes.” He kissed you again before getting to his feet. You followed him downstairs. Dick, Kori, and Jason were whispering at the table. They stopped talking when you and Jon appeared. You frowned at them, but Jon took your hand and pulled you outside.

“You’ll text me when you get home?” You stayed on the front step, closing the door behind you for privacy.

“Always.” Jon kissed your lips quickly. “Love you.”

The blood rushed to your cheeks. “Love you too.” You waved as he jogged away toward the woods to fly home. Waiting until he was out of sight, you went back inside to find Jason at the window.

“Aren’t you a little young to be kissing and saying I love you?” Jason asked, glaring at the front step as if it was the cause.

You snorted. “Why do you care?” Frustration from being kept out of the loop made your mood sour.

Jason raised an eyebrow. “(Y/N), be nice,” Dick snapped as he started washing dishes.

“I don’t have to be nice if you don’t tell me what’s going on.” You crossed your arms, glaring at Dick and Jason.

“Well, we’re getting close to figuring out who placed the bounty on Robin’s head,” Jason explained.

“Jason.” Dick slammed one of the dishes down. It shattered in the sink. “I told you to keep them out of this.”

Your temper flared. “At least Jason is being honest with me.” Dick’s mouth twitched. Your heart skipped a beat, knowing you pushed him a tad too far.

“Calm down,” Kori said, getting up to take Dick’s arm. “You said yourself that you thought it would be good for (Y/N) to know what’s going on. That way they understand why we are taking the precautions.”

Jason eyed the two of them before looking back at you. He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. “We had a few reports of assassins in Jacksonville where you were spotted.” You bit your lip, somewhat guiltily. “But since you are all lying low, it appears the one who placed the bounty is getting impatient.”

Your eyes widened. “What does that mean?”

“That’s enough.” Dick stepped in between you and Jason. “You don’t need to know more, honey. We’re taking care of it.” Kori came over to hug you as if you needed comforting.

“Why can’t I know? You always do this.” Your hand clenched into a fist, wishing you could punch Dick in his stupid, guilt-causing face. “You’re always hovering, always protecting. No wonder I want to go to college somewhere else. It’s like I can’t take a breath without you worrying about it.”

Kori flinched away from you, tears running down her cheeks. Jason blinked, taking it all in. “Go to bed, (Y/N),” Dick said sharply. His voice colder than you ever heard it before.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the guilt that ate you up inside. “Right, send me to my room. Why don’t you follow me to lock me in?”

“You put a lock on their door?” Jason remarked. “What the fuck?”

“Shut up, Jason.” Dick turned to Kori and hugged her as she sobbed. You turned to go up to your room, knowing you had already done enough damage. The fact you still had to tell Kori and Dick about prom was the last thing on your mind as you felt rotten inside.

***

Early the next morning, you crept down the stairs in your running clothes. Jason was snoring on the couch. You eyed him for a moment before going to the door. Picking up your shoes, you stepped out to put them on only to find Dick outside stretching.

“Morning,” Dick said, not looking at you. You grumbled in response. After you and Jon’s patrols had been exposed, Dick insisted on coming with you on your morning runs. It was annoying. He never stopped talking. Hopefully, he would give you the silent treatment because of last night.

You did your own stretches once your shoes were on. Dick waited for you. He opened his mouth to speak, but you suddenly sprinted down the street. “(Y/N)!” You smiled, hearing him struggle to catch up to you. At least you could outrun him. Once you reached the woods Jon always took off from, you slowed to a steady jog.

“Okay, I know you’re upset, but you can’t run off like that.” Dick panted as he caught up to jog beside you. “It’s too dangerous.” You snorted, heading onto the jogging path in the woods.

“Why is it dangerous?” You jerked to a stop, spinning to face him. Ice cold rage in your gut. “Tell me. I deserve to know. I already know it’s bad because Jason’s here. Just tell me.”

Dick sighed, running a hand through his hair once he stopped beside you. “Honey, there are things that you don’t need to know. You don’t need to carry that burden, okay?”

“I killed Bane. It is my burden.” Your hand shook. You pressed it against your side to keep it still. Dick noticed however. His hand rested heavily on your shoulder.

“No, it’s not.” He looked you in the eye. You saw desperation that you didn’t understand. “Let us take care of it.”

Your heart threatened to pound of your chest. “I’m not some little kid who useless. I am Robin.” You narrowed your eyes, hoping you were giving him the same look you gave Green Lantern when he dared to say you were just a kid tagging along.

“Not anymore.” He cradled your cheek. “I know it’s hard. I know you feel like you don’t have control over anything.” You frowned, hating that the anger faded away. His concern and support was written all over his face. “I get it. I do. Your dad did the same to me when I was Robin. I hated it at the time, but I know he did it for my own good. There were things I didn’t need to be exposed to, and that goes for you too.”

“This isn’t the same thing.” Your heart sank. You knew you wouldn’t get any information out of him. It would be better to make peace. Life was easier when you weren’t fighting him.

“No, but I’m trying to protect you. You’re so young.” Dick kissed your forehead, smiling at you sadly. “Please just let it go, (Y/N).”

You sighed. “Fine.” You pulled away from him and jogged away. Dick paused, surprised before he caught back up with you. The two of you didn’t speak the rest of the jog. Your mind kept going around and around. Maybe you could get Jason to tell you more? He seemed eager enough. Besides, you always did have Jason wrapped around your finger so to speak, even though he let Dick take custody.

Kori was waiting for both of you at the front door. She sipped a cup of water, smiling as if you didn’t make her cry last night. “Good morning, loves.” She kissed Dick’s cheek then yours. Jason’s snores echoed from the living room.

A smirk pulled on your lips. “Hey Kori, can you take me shopping today after school?”

Dick raised an eyebrow while Kori practically glowed in delight. “Of course. Are we looking for anything special?”

You went over to the fridge to get a glass of orange juice. Keeping your back to them, you bit your lip to keep from laughing. “I just need something so I can go to prom with Jon.”

Silence followed. Suddenly, Kori swept you up into her arms. Orange juice almost splashed out of your glass. “Oh, that’s wonderful, (Y/N). The prom is an amazing tradition.” You peeked at Dick. His eyebrow was still raised, mouth twitching when you met his eye.

“Jon asked you to his prom?” Dick asked, needing to confirm.

“Yeah.” You pulled away from Kori who was already taking out her phone to look up stuff. “I didn’t really want to go, but he seemed excited, so why not?” You took a sip of your orange juice. Relief filled you as you noted the suspicion drained out of Dick.

“I’ll have to call Lois to get more information, but we’ll make it work.” Dick crossed his arms, glancing at the clock. “You should go shower. School’s in an hour.” You made a face, finishing your orange juice before tiptoeing past Jason and up the stairs. Kori was buzzing in the kitchen. You smiled, glad you made Kori happy at least. However, a nagging feeling nibbled away at you. What was happening to get everyone so worried?

***

You ducked just in time to avoid Jason’s foot from smashing your face. “Cutting it close, aren’t ya?” Jason chuckled as you rolled away.

“If it isn’t close, it isn’t fun.” You threw a punch to his cheek, knocking him away. “Wow, you cut it so close that you got hit.” You danced away before Jason could grab you.

The two of you were sparring in the gym at Haly’s Circus. “Little brat.” Jason smirked at you, rubbing his cheek. You smiled back at him sweetly before using the wall for momentum to send a kick to his head. Jason ducked this time, grabbing your leg and throwing you to the ground. You rolled into the fall and hopped to your feet.

Jason charged you. You easily flipped over him, wrapping your legs around his neck. Using all your weight, you slammed Jason into the ground. “Wow, you learned that from Dickieboy?” He grunted, laying on the ground. You got off him, peering down at him worriedly.

“Yeah.” Jason opened his eyes to look at you. “What? Did I break you?”

“No.” He groaned, trying to get up only to fall back down. “I think I busted my back.”

You bit your lip. “Do you want me to crack it for you? I used to do it for Dad all the time.”

Jason rolled onto his stomach. “If you could.” He sighed as you stepped onto his back. Feeling your way, you found the right pressure points and dug in your toes. Something snapped in Jason’s back. He moaned in relief. “You do this to Dick too? Or do you take it easy with him?”

“We don’t spar.” You stepped off, holding out a hand when Jason rolled onto his back. He took it and got to his feet with ease.

Jason hummed, going over to take a drink of water. “I’m going to see if Dickie needs anything and then we can head home, okay?”

You nodded, running over to the uneven bars and swinging yourself up gracefully. Jason paused to watch you, whistling his approval before he left. You made a couple of passes before flipping off and landing wrong. Your ankle twisted slightly, shooting sharp pain up your leg.

“Damn it.” You limped over to a bench and felt the sprain. It wasn’t bad, just enough to sting if you stepped wrong. You got up and gathered your things while keeping your full weight on your good foot.

Limping your way to Dick’s office, you jumped when you heard a crash. You followed the noise to the elephants’ pen. The elephants were in a panic, running around the pen. You peered inside to see part of the ceiling beam had fallen into their pen. Your blood ran ice cold when you saw a head of dark hair trapped under the beam.

Without thinking, you dropped your bag and climbed into the pen. The elephants saw you, almost stampeding toward you. You rolled out of the way, scrambling over to the person. Once you were next to them, you recognized her immediately.

“Lian, wake up.” You grunted, lifting the beam off her the best you could. The elephants stormed past, barely missing you and Lian. Dust filled the air. You coughed, pulling Lian onto your back. Slowly, you dragged Lian out of the pen. The elephants screamed again, racing toward you and Lian. Time slowly as you threw yourself and Lian with all your might under the fence and to safety.

You coughed, panting as you sat up to check Lian’s pulse. It was steady, but she was still unconscious. You checked her head to find a big lump on the side of her head. The breath rushed out of you. Suddenly, you saw your father in front of you with a similar lump on his head. You flinched.

“It’s not you.” You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. When you opened them, Lian was back.

“What the hell?” The elephant tamers ran up to calm the wild animals in the pen. You looked up to see Roy Harper running into the area with a few of his security guys behind him. He froze when he saw you over Lian. “Lian.” He sprinted over, kneeling down beside her. “What happened?” He demanded, shifting between glaring at you and checking over Lian.

“I don’t know.” You tensed, crawling away from him as another security guy showed up with the first aid kit. “I heard a crash only to find Lian under the beam in the middle of the pen.”

Roy gave you a curt nod. You relaxed, knowing he didn’t blame you. “(Y/N)!” Dick’s voice echoed from behind you and within moments Dick was on you. He checked you over, running his fingers through your hair. “You’re okay?”

“Yeah.” You looked over at Lian. “Lian’s hurt though.” Dick followed your gaze.

Jason appeared beside you. “Go help Roy. I’ll take (Y/N) home,” he said, helping you to your feet. You gasped, adrenaline fading enough for you to feel the pain back in your ankle. Dick hesitated. Jason supported you, scooping up your bag with his free hand. “Dick, go. (Y/N) will be fine.”

Dick left to kneel down next to Roy as they tended to Lian. Jason helped you walk to his motorcycle. “You realize he’s going to blow up when he finds out you ran into that pen with stampeding elephants?” Jason chuckled. He sat you down and stuffed a helmet on your head.

“He freaks out about everything.” You wrapped your arms around Jason’s waist once he settled in front of you. He started the cycle. You could feel him laughing some more.

“That’s because you’re his kid.” Jason’s voice came through the comlink in the helmet.

Your throat grew tight. “Is that why you didn’t fight him for custody?”

“Kiddo.” Jason sighed deeply. He drove off toward home. “I don’t even have a home, much less anything to offer you. Besides, no one would have let me unless I kidnapped you and that is just a lot.”

“You literally did that when I was seven. You picked me from school and took me to Brazil. Dad and Alfred freaked until Superman had to go get me,” you laughed, remembering it fondly.

Jason laughed. “Okay, well. It’s different now.” You tightened your arms around him as rain drops hit your helmet. Jason turned the corner and quickly zoomed into the driveway. “Can’t give Dick a heart attack. Bruce could handle it, Dick can’t.”

You snorted as Jason scooped you up and carried you inside. Just when he set you down inside, it started to downpour. You hissed, your ankle throbbing. “I should go shower. I got elephant dirt all over.”

“Yeah, you do.” Jason took off the helmet, frowning when he saw the dust and whatever else inside. “I’ll make dinner, so take your time. Can’t let Kori make that...whatever that was again.”

“I know. Neither of them knows how to cook anything.” You limped up the stairs. Halfway up, you stopped and peered over the railing at Jason who was watching you in a way that you didn’t understand. “What?”

Jason cleared his throat. “I didn’t realize how much you grew up.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Jay, now you sound like Dick.”

“Oh god! He’s rubbing off on me!” Jason groaned, running a hand through his hair.

“Dick does that too. It’s one of his moves.” You laughed when Jason balked, staring at his hand as if it betrayed him.

“Go take a shower.” Jason marched into the kitchen. “I need a drink.” You snorted before starting up the stairs again. Your ankle still throbbed, but the laughter spilling out of you kept the pain at bay.

***

“You ran into the elephant pen! What were you thinking?!” Dick exploded just as you knew he would once he was home. Dinner was on the table. You, Jason, and Kori were already eating when Dick stormed in, soaking wet from the downpour outside.

“I saw someone was in danger. I couldn’t just leave Lian in there. She would have been killed,” you said, wincing as you shifted your foot. You had it propped up on Dick’s seat with an ice pack around it.

“Is Lian okay?” Kori asked, getting to her feet. She rubbed her baby bump.

Dick sighed, calming down. “Yeah, she’s going to spend the next few days in the hospital to make sure her head is okay and everything, but she’s going to be okay.”

Kori, Jason, and you relaxed. You knew Lian would be okay, but it was good to know for sure. Even if she was rude to you, it didn’t mean you wished her dead. “Good. She had a big lump on her head,” you said.

All three adults went quiet. “Honey, are you okay?” Dick soothed. He picked up your foot and sat down in his chair. Your foot stayed in his lap. His fingers felt your ankle, making you grimace.

“Don’t do that. I’m fine.” You tried to pull your foot out of his grasp, but he didn’t let go. “Ouch.”

“Stop pulling. Let me look.” Dick frowned. “It doesn’t look like a bad sprain, but you should stay off it for a few days.”

“(Y/N), you weren’t...hurt by seeing Lian like that?” Kori reached over to take your hand.

“I’m fine!” You jerked away from Kori and Dick at the same time almost falling out of your chair at the movement. “It’s fine! Everything is fine!”

You got to your feet and limped out of the room. “Hey, kiddo, come back here.” Jason chased after you and wrapped an arm around your waist. He carried you back into the kitchen and sat you back in your chair. “You don’t have to storm off. Eat. I know you’re hungry.”

“I thought you were on my side,” you grumbled, picking at your food. Dick and Kori whispered to each other. You eyed them.

Kori met your eye, smiling and kissing your head. “You did a good job, (Y/N). Do not think we are not proud of you.”

“You scared me.” Dick dished up some food on his plate. “I kept thinking what could have happened.”

“So stop doing that.” You poked at your food.

Jason snorted. “Yeah, stop doing that.” Dick glared at him while Jason smirked. You pursed your lips to hold back a laugh.

Kori shook her head at them, getting another serving. Dinner continued somewhat normally.

***

A few days later, Dick and Kori were dragging you out the door. “But she’s not going to want to see me,” you protested. Kori was holding your hand, pulling you along.

“We’re going to visit because that’s what you do when someone is hurt,” Kori said firmly. Dick sighed, carrying the Tupperware full of the cookies you and Jason made the night before. You didn’t realize you had made them for Lian. Kori just claimed she had a craving.

You stumbled. A hiss escaped you, your ankle hurting in warning. It had healed mostly, but it was still not back to normal. You wished Jon was here. “But she’s not going to want to see me,” you repeated.

“Honey, Lian asked for you.” Dick wrapped an arm around your shoulders to keep you moving. Kori let go of your hand to hug Roy when he opened the door. “It’s going to be fine.”

“Fine.” You snorted. Dick gave you a funny look.

“Thanks for coming,” Roy said, hugging Kori back. He waved at you and Dick from over Kori’s shoulder. “Lian’s been bored. I honestly have no idea what to do with her.”

Dick squeezed your shoulder. “I can imagine. I never enjoyed staying in bed for a week either.” Kori let go of Roy to head inside. “(Y/N) and Jason made cookies. Jay had to go do something, but he said he’ll stop by to see Lian later.”

Roy nodded, taking the Tupperware and stealing a cookie. “Lian will love these. Thank you, (Y/N), for the cookies and for saving Lian.”

You froze. Dick had to pull you inside. Roy’s house was the same floor plan as Dick’s, except his furniture was more mismatched and messy. Dick pinched your arm. “You’re welcome,” you said, robotic.

“How’s your ankle?” Roy asked, leading you and Dick up to Lian’s room. She had the same bedroom you did. You eyed the family photos on the wall. Everyone was smiling, doing fun things. You tried to remember if you and your dad took a photo like that.

“It’s better, but they still have to take it easy.” Dick answered for you, noting how you were looking at the family photos. You found one with Lian and all the Titans. She was clearly loved by them, very different from how they all treated you.

Lian’s laughter echoed from her bedroom as Dick pulled you inside after Roy. Kori was sitting on Lian’s bed, rubbing her leg. “Oh hi Uncle Dick,” Lian said, some of the joy fading out of her face when she saw you. “Hi (Y/N).” She looked away from you.

“Hey kiddo.” Dick hugged her. “I heard you were driving your dad nuts.”

“When do I not?” Lian giggled. She was so childlike, relaxed. Maybe the bump on her head affected more than they all thought?

“They brought cookies, little monkey,” Roy chuckled, offering one to Lian. Lian took one and happily took a bite.

“(Y/N) and Jason made them,” Kori said. Lian almost choked on it. You turned away, feeling rotten inside. She had a bookshelf with knickknacks on it. You pretended to be focused on those.

Lian coughed a little. “They taste good.” The rest of them fell into a natural, comfortable conversation. You didn’t join in, wishing once again Jon was here. He was always better at this sort of thing.

About an hour passed before Roy and Dick went off to work, leaving you and Kori behind with Lian. “Kori, can you get me a glass of water?” Lian asked sweetly.

“Of course.” Kori got to her feet, kissing Lian’s then your head. She left the room, leaving the smell of her perfume in her wake.

An awkward silence filled the room. You didn’t look at Lian. However, you could feel her eyes on you. “So...” You peeked up at her. She wrung her hands somewhat nervously. “I...I wanted to say thank you for saving me.”

You blinked in surprise. “You’re welcome.”

Lian bit her lip. “And...I wanted to say sorry for how I treated you. I know I didn’t really apologize when my dad forced me to.” She sighed, studying you. You almost wanted to cry. This was something you never expected from Lian. The bump on her head must have changed her a lot.

“It’s okay.” You stared at her, unsure how to react. “I know I’m not easy to get along with. That I’m unfriendly.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Lian pursed her lips. “Jon wouldn’t be dating you if you weren’t a good person. I mean you’re already perfect.”

You flinched at the word ‘perfect’. “I’m not perfect.” You shook your head in disbelief. “No one is.”

“Yeah, you are. I mean Uncle Dick is always talking about how smart and talented you are. Kori talks about you like you are her kid.” Lian crossed her arms, pouting slightly. It hit you like a freight train. Lian was jealous of you. You ran your hand through your hair in shock. You always thought Lian hated you because you killed Bane.

“I’m not.” You realized you were running a hand through your hair like Dick did, and stopped yourself. “I tend to hurt people because I get angry and say things. I made Kori cry the other day. I make Dick worry enough to get gray hair. I make mistakes that put my life and other’s lives in danger. I disrespected my father’s legacy.” The blood drained out of your face.

Lian eyed you. “Are you okay?”

You took a shaky breath. “I’m working on it.” You shut your mouth when Kori came back with Lian’s glass of water. She handed it to Lian before focusing on you.

“(Y/N), you look unwell.” She laid her hand on your forehead. Her hand blazed against your skin. “Maybe you should head home and lie down? I’ll stay here with Lian.”

You nodded, quickly leaving the room with a small wave to Lian. Lian’s apology and confession left you reeling. She thought you were perfect. You shook your head as you hurried back home. Perfection was something you would never reach.

***

“So are you excited?” Jon asked. You imagined him bouncing around like a puppy on the other end of the phone.

“Sure. More to see you, but yeah.” You eyed your prom outfit hanging from your closet door, waiting to be packed into a suitcase.

Jon laughed. You smiled at the sound. “I’m glad to hear that.” He paused. “Is it okay that Dick and Kori aren’t coming with you?”

You pursed your lip, remembering when they sat you down to let you know they wouldn’t be there. Dick had to work on the circus’ summer tour, and he couldn’t afford the time off. Kori had a modeling gig she couldn’t get out of either. “It’s fine.” You shrugged. “Jason’s coming with me.”

“Jason?” Jon swallowed hard. You snorted. The fact Jason made him nervous was ridiculous to say the least. “Oh, I guess we’re not going to do what I thought we could.”

“What did you think we could do?” You laid down on your bed next to your half-packed suitcase.

Jon coughed. “I thought we could...maybe go flying again. I found this place that I thought you would like to see.”

“I’m sure we can go. Jason’s not as strict as you think he is.” You closed your eyes. “Jon, do you know what’s happening?”

“Uh, like in the world? Not much, but Mom makes me watch the news,” Jon said.

“No, I mean with the bounty on my head. It’s getting more serious. That’s why Jason’s here. He said whoever placed it on my head is getting impatient.” You froze when you heard Dick and Jason arguing downstairs. Jason must have pushed Dick too far again.

Jon was quiet. You started to wonder if you lost him when he finally spoke. “As far as I know, it’s taken care of. Dad said not to worry about it as long as we don’t go on patrol again.”

You sighed. “I miss it.”

“I do too.” Jon laughed. “We’ll get back to it someday, I’m sure.”

“(Y/N)!” Jason shouted up the stairs. “Get down here!”

“I got to go. Jason pissed Dick off again.” You got to your feet. “Love you.”

“Love you too. I’m counting the minutes until I see you tomorrow night.” Jon blew a kiss into the phone. You laughed, hanging up.

Slowly, you headed downstairs only to see Dick and Jason facing off across the kitchen table. “Jay, why do you keep setting him off?” you asked, eyeing the two men unimpressed.

However, Jason didn’t smirk, glaring over at Dick. Dick’s mouth twitched. You suddenly realized this wasn’t just Jason getting under Dick’s skin. “Don’t you dare,” Dick snarled in warning, jabbing a finger at Jason.

Jason eyed the finger before knocking Dick’s arm away. “You can’t keep them in the dark. They’re going to know. This is getting big.”

Dick turned to you. “(Y/N), go upstairs and finish packing. We’re fine here.”

“You don’t look fine,” you mumbled. Your stomach twisted to the point where you thought you might throw up. “What’s happening?”

“Honey, everything is okay. Just go pack.” Dick came over to run a hand through your hair. “You just stay excited for your trip.” He kissed your forehead and pushed you to leave. You wondered if Dick and Kori really couldn’t come because of work or if it because what they wouldn’t tell you.

“You’re such a piece of shit, Dick.” Jason exploded, slamming his fist on the table. “This is going to blow up in your fucking face if you don’t tell them.”

“Jason!” Kori burst through the door, wearing designer maternity clothes that she must have gotten from her photo shoot. “Calm down!” Her hand glowed with a starbolt. Jason’s eyes widened at the sight before he marched out the door. He got onto his motorcycle and drove off.

Dick pulled you into a hug. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” You stiffened in his arms.

“Whatever.” You torn yourself out of his arms and quickly hurried upstairs. Once your bedroom door was securely shut, you collapsed onto your bed. A mix of fear and frustration came over you followed by the pain of regret. If you hadn’t killed Bane, none of this would have been an problem.

***

You sipped on your soda, watching Jason from across the table. Both of you were at the airport. Since your flight got delayed an hour, you were eating at a cafe. Jason hadn’t spoken since Dick and him had words when he dropped you both off.

The food arrived. You smiled at the waiter, thanking him. Jason just grunted and dug into his burger.

“What can’t you tell me?” You asked after spending a few minutes picking at your salad.

Jason looked at you. He took his time to swallow. “I can’t, kiddo. It’s Dick’s choice and he made it clear he doesn’t want you to know.”

“Dick’s not here.” You smiled sweetly.

“Sneaky brat. No wonder Dick’s hair is starting to go gray,” Jason chuckled. He took a big gulp of his beer. “But I have to respect his choice. He’s in charge of you. Besides, he told me how sick you got just from reading about Gotham.”

“That was months ago. I’m better now.” You crossed your arms. “I deserve to know.”

Jason looked you in the eye seriously. “I know, but it’s not my call.”

You snorted, taking a bite of the salad with disinterest. “Why are you respecting Dick now? You never had before.”

“We all had to grow up when we lost Bruce.” Jason studied his beer, frowning. “Besides, we all made a promise that we’d get along.” You opened your mouth, but he held up at hand. “As well as we can at least.”

“I wasn’t in on that promise.” You finished your glass of soda. The waiter showed up with another glass a second later.

“No, Damian wasn’t either.” Jason finished his burger and sat back in his seat. “Just us old ones.”

“Old ones? Tim and Steph are twenty-five.” You smirked, nibbling on a piece of carrot.

Jason laughed hard. “Timbo’s been fifty since he was born and Steph is younger than you are. The other day she put waffles in the Blu-ray player.”

You blinked. “You got to be kidding?”

“Nope, apparently she was a little drunk from girls’ night. Tim had to go pick her up, and when he turned his back on her, she just put one right in there.” Jason finished his beer, and waved for the check.

“Wow.” You laughed harder than you had in a long time. Jason chuckled with you. Your worries went away for a while as Jason dished on more embarrassing things about Tim and Steph.

***

Your smile dropped when you only saw Clark waiting at baggage claim. “Where’s Jon?” you asked, looking around him as if Jon was hiding behind him.

“Jon’s at school. We’ll see him when we get home.” Clark chuckled, giving you a hug. “It’s nice to see you again, (Y/N). You’ve grown a few inches.”

You wrinkled your nose. Your heart ached, knowing that your Robin suit wouldn’t fit anymore. “Sure.”

Clark let go of you. “Hello, Jason. How was the flight?”

“Good, considering we were next to a crying baby the whole time.” Jason came over with all the bags. He bit his lip awkwardly.

Clark took a bag, clapping a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you.” The two men led the way while you pouted. You were so excited to see Jon only to have your hopes dashed by stupid high school.

***

You endured the car ride and the two hours it took for Jon to get home. Eventually, you took to sitting on the front steps to avoid the small talk Jason and Clark slowly worked through. It was incredibly painful.

An old clunker turned down the driveway. You raised an eyebrow at it as it came to a stop next to the Kents’ car. “(Y/N)!” Jon stumbled out of car. “Look at this baby! Isn’t it amazing?! I wanted to surprise you!”

“Uh, why are you driving this?” You stood up, staring at the clunker. It backfired like a shotgun when he accidentally hit the gas as he leaned inside to turn the car off. He jumped in panic before killing the engine.

“I bought it last week.” Jon ran to you, grinning like a child in a candy store. He kissed you hard before wrapping an arm around you. “What do you think? Isn’t it a sweet ride?”

Your first thought was not very nice, and you had to suppress it. “What the hell?!” Jason came out the door behind you. “Why did you let him buy this piece of crap?”

“Be nice.” You shot him a warning look when you saw Jon’s face fall. Giving him a bright smile, you winked at him. “It’s great.” Jon cheered up instantly. It amazed you that you could make him feel better with just a smile. You only had that power over your father. Your eyes burned with tears. You forgot about that.

“I didn’t let him buy anything. This was all his idea,” Clark said, coming out after Jason. He crossed his arms. “Son, I told you to stop by the auto parts store to get that spark plug.”

Jon bit his lip. “I...I’m working on it.” He blushed.

Jason walked up and popped open the hood. “Wow, this really is a piece of crap.”

You pulled away from Jon and joined Jason. “You could fix it for him since you insulted it,” you whispered once saw Jon and Clark talking to each other. Jon looked uncomfortable. You sensed Jon was asking for money.

“I don’t know if I can fix this.” Jason whistled, poking around. “But anything to avoid small talk with Clark.” He made a face.

You snorted. “That was painful for everyone, trust me.”

“But Dad...I swear I’ll work it off,” Jon said loudly. Clark shook his head, frowning down at Jon. Jason and you glanced over at them.

“I’m triggered.” Jason chuckled, looking back at the car. “I’ll tinker around and see what I can do. You go have fun with your boy.”

“My boy? You make him sound like a dog.” You rolled your eyes, heading back over to Jon. Clark tilted his head, listening to something. Jon wrapped an arm around your shoulders and tucked you into his side.

Clark glanced between you and Jon, then over at Jason. “I have to go. Earthquake in Nepal. Stay here and out of trouble.” You closed your eyes as Clark zoomed off.

Jon sighed. “But you like the car, right?” He turned to you, kissing your temple.

“Yes, it’s great.” You patted his arm. “So why did you buy a car when you can fly?”

“Because Jon Kent can’t fly, only Superboy can. Mom and Dad won’t let me drive to school until I got a car, so I did.” Jon frowned when he saw Jason removing something from the engine. “What is he doing?”

“He’s fixing it.” You kissed his chin. “Jason needs something to do. You don’t know how much small talk we all went through before you got here.” Jon chuckled, nuzzling his nose into your hair. “So there was some place you wanted to take me, right?”

Jon bit his lip, avoiding your eye. “Yeah, but we should stay here for now.” He looked at the house. “Do you have your prom outfit here?”

You covered his eyes with your hand. “Yes, but no peeking.” Jon’s fingers tickled your side. A laugh escaped your lips, jumping away from him. “So what should we do?”

“Well, I got some homework I should finish.” He smirked with puppy dog eyes. “I need a tutor.”

“Oh you do?” You took Jon’s hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “I suppose I could try. Maybe something will get through that skull of steel.”

“Maybe?” Jon leaned down to kiss you sweetly.

“Get a room,” Jason shouted. You and Jon looked at him in surprise. Jason’s eyes widened, realizing what he said. “No, don’t do that.”

You laughed before turning back to kiss Jon again. Jon chuckled into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist to lift you up against him.

***

Later that evening, Jon picked you up in his arms and flew you into the sky. You glanced down over his shoulder to see Clark watching the two of you from a window. “Jon, your dad’s watching us.”

“I know. I can feel.” Jon chuckled somewhat nervously. “Don’t worry about it though.” He flew faster. You closed your eyes and hid your face in his neck to avoid wind burn.

Jon’s words didn’t sit right. “Do you know something about what’s happening?” you whispered against Jon’s skin. His arms tensed around you as he slowed down and landed. You kept your face in his neck, unable to look at him. He didn’t say anything for a long time. You felt the familiar weight of a secret coming from Jon, and you hated it. He used to be the one you could trust to be on your side. He had joined the others, protecting you by keeping you out of the loop.

“I can’t say...” Jon held you tighter when you didn’t move. “We’re here. Come on, take a look.”

Tears filled your eyes in frustration and betrayal. You jumped out of his arms without warning. He moved to catch you, but you hit the ground and rolled to your feet with the momentum. “I can’t believe you’re siding with them.”

“Woah.” Jon reached out to catch your arm, but you marched away from him. You noticed the beautiful meadow with all the wildflowers. The setting sun caught on all the different colors, making some muted and brilliant at the same time. It was magical, but you were too upset to be moved by it. “I’m not siding with anyone, (Y/N). I just can’t tell you.”

“Yeah, right.” You glared at him. Jon froze. Fear flashed on his face. You realized you gave him the batglare. Huh, you didn’t realize your glare had the same effect as your father’s. It never worked on Dick. “You’re with them. I never should have trusted you. You want to keep me in the dark while everyone else goes out and risks their lives because I killed Bane!”

“(Y/N), I’m on your side. Always.” Jon zoomed in front of you. You took a step back to stay away from him. Your heart broke into a thousand pieces when you found yourself aching to believe him. “This is for the best, I swear. Let’s not focus on that right now.”

Rage filled you. Your fist went flying and cracked against Jon’s jaw. Pain exploded in your hand, but you bit your lip to keep from crying out. Jon fell to the ground, not prepared for the hit. “I’m not weak! I’m not someone who can’t handle themselves! Stop treating me like I’m invalid!”

Jon rubbed his jaw. He looked at you worriedly. Your heart sank. He was looking at you like everyone else did. You walked away from him. Tears streamed down your face. You lost count on how many times he had seen you cry. “(Y/N).” Jon’s footsteps followed you. “Let me look at your hand.”

“Leave me alone. I thought you were different.” You wiped your eyes with your hand, wincing when you saw how it was already starting to swell. Punching Jon probably wasn’t a good idea.

“Please.” Jon grabbed your good hand. He brought it to his lips. “I’ll tell you what you want to know, okay? As long as you let me look at your hand and that you promise you won’t try anything crazy.”

Your hand throbbed. Adrenaline wore off. Guilt soured your stomach and you couldn’t say no. “Fine.” You turned to him, making the mistake of looking at his eyes. He studied you with worry and concern, but you could see the love he had for you. A fresh wave of guilt flooded through you again.

Jon sat you down on a nearby rock and knelt in front of you to study your injured hand. “Sorry,” he whispered when you winced from his touch. He turned to use his freeze breath to make a ball of ice and held it to your hand. “I don’t think you broke anything, but we should ice it before it swells too much.”

You bit your lip. “Tell me.”

“Okay, okay.” Jon sighed, keeping the ice on your hand. Your hand went numb from the cold. “Apparently, someone is planning a massive attack on Gotham. I don’t know the details, but everyone is on alert.”

Your eyes widened. “I should be there. It’s all my fault.” You tried to get to your feet, but Jon’s grip on your hand kept you on the rock.

“It’s not your fault, and it’s being taken care of. I promise if it gets bad or something, I’ll let you know, but we can’t interfere.” Jon leaned forward to kiss your cheek. “They didn’t even tell me everything. Probably because they know I’d tell you and we’ll both be inspired to help.”

You eyed the red spot on Jon’s jaw. “I’m sorry I hit you.”

Jon laughed. “It’s fine. You should be impressed. Not everyone can take me by surprise.” You raised an eyebrow as he leaned forward to kiss you. “I love you.”

“Are you sure? I just hit you.” You pulled away, not returning the kiss.

“(Y/N), sweetheart, you have a right to be upset. It sucks that no one will just tell you what’s going on.” Jon kissed you again. You smiled into it, kissing him back. “I forgive you.”

You found yourself getting excited, kissing Jon so hard that he toppled over with you on top of him. “Sorry,” you laughed. Your fingers ran through his hair.

“Never have to be sorry about that.” Jon tickled you. You screamed, rolling off him and away from his fingers. The pain in your hand disappeared from your thoughts. “What do you think of this place?”

You looked at the meadow again. This time you took in the beauty. “It’s wonderful.” You leaned down to kiss Jon again. Jon pulled you down on top of him as you two quickly lost track of time.

***

It was dark when you and Jon finally flew back to the farm. You rode on his back with your arms and legs stretched out, so you could feel like you were flying.

“We’re going to get yelled at when we get home. I was supposed to have you back before ten. It’s eleven now,” Jon said, looking at his watch.

“It’s fine. At least we’re in this together.” You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face into his hair.

Jon chuckled. “You’re not the one who’s gonna get his balls shot off.”

“Jason threatened you? Funny,” you laughed, kissing the back of Jon’s neck. “You know he won’t do that. He just likes to mess with people.” A smirk pulled at your lips. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so relaxed. “Besides, he doesn’t have kryptonite bullets.”

“Didn’t your dad have a kryptonite ring? Dad said he punched him in the face with it years ago.” Jon dropped slowly, hooking your legs in his arms as he landed in the Kents’ yard.

Your arms wrapped around his neck to stay on his back. “Yeah, he did.” A shiver ran up your spine, aching for your dad. He would have flipped if he knew you were dating Jon Kent. Actually, he probably would have given you that ring just in case. You smiled sadly.

“Hey, don’t cry.” Jon turned his head to peek back at you. The blood ran to your face when you realized tears were running down your cheeks and dripping onto him.

“Sorry.” You slid off his back to stand. Someone cleared their throat from the porch. You and Jon jumped.

“Kinda late, aren’t you?” Jason said, stepping into the light. He rolled his eyes at Jon. “You should be embarrassed that you didn’t notice I was there. What’s the point of having supervision and superhearing and not use it?” He leaned against the porch post, frowning. “You okay, (Y/N)?”

You quickly wiped away your tears. “I’m fine.” You kissed Jon’s cheek. “I’m going to bed, but I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, I’m finally going to see your prom outfit tomorrow.” Jon smirked, relaxing when he looked into your eyes.

“I hope so. I’m not going to go naked.” You brushed past Jason on your way inside the house. Jason made a face of disgust and disapproval. “Better stop or you’ll turn into Dick.”

“Like that would ever happen,” Jason retorted, narrowing his eyes at Jon.

Jon smiled, getting braver by the second. “I mean you already look alike anyway.”

You laughed, heading inside before you could hear Jason’s response. You said good night to Lois and Clark who were in the living room before you went to bed.

***

“You look wonderful, (Y/N),” Lois said, kissing your cheek as she helped you fix your hair. The outfit fit perfectly. You looked at yourself in the mirror, smiling at how grown up you looked. “Jon will have his socks knocked off for sure.”

“What if he knocks off mine?” You laughed. Lois finished with your hair, stepping back to look at you.

She smiled. “Well, then you both might be more serious than we thought.”

“Not too serious, I hope?” Jason asked, poking his head into the room. He froze when he saw you. “Look at you. Already a bombshell.”

“Shut up.” You went over to hug him. “But you think I look good? Not like I’m playing dress up or something?” You bit your lip. Even when you had to dress up for one of your dad’s galas or parties, you always felt like it was a game. This time it was real.

“Nah, you look great.” He kissed your forehead, hugging you carefully back. “Dick’s gonna be mad he wasn’t here.”

You hummed. “Is Jon downstairs? We want him to see (Y/N) as they come down the stairs,” Lois said. She pulled you away from Jason to adjust your hair one last time.

“Yeah, he’s down there. I think he might be pacing a hole into your floor.” Jason smirked, winking at you. “Knock him dead, kiddo.”

You laughed, giddy from excitement. Funny, how you didn’t want to go in the first place, but now you couldn’t imagine not going. Jason and Lois left the room. “Come down when you’re ready, honey,” Lois whispered before shutting the door. You sighed, turning to look at yourself in the mirror.

A shiver ran up your spine. You frowned, the joy draining from you. Did you have a right to be happy like this? You murdered a man. Even if he was a bad man, you deserved to be punished. Your hands started to shake as you thought about the danger the rest of the family must be in. It was all your fault.

“Little one, are you going to come down? Jon’s not going to be able to wait much longer,” Clark said through the door. You sank down on a chair. Your chest tightened, panting as if the air was being sucked out of the room. “What’s wrong?” Suddenly, Clark was beside you with his heavy hand on your shoulder. “Breathe with me. Calm down, little one.”

“I don’t deserve this. I killed Bane.” You pressed your hand to your chest as it threatened to explode. “I can’t be happy. I shouldn’t be happy.”

“You can be happy. Your father wanted you to be happy.” Clark soothed, resting his hand on your cheek. “One mistake doesn’t define your life. Now breathe with me, little one.”

Slowly, you copied him, catching your breath. You saw Clark listening to your heartbeat. It was rather like a dog listening for something. Jon did the same thing, which you realize is probably why you always associated with him a puppy.

“(Y/N)! Are you okay?!” Jon asked, bursting into the room. You cursed superhearing. You quickly turned your back toward the door.

“Jon, we’re fine. Go back downstairs.” Clark stood up, blocking Jon’s view of you. You were grateful for it.

“But I heard...Wow.” Jon moved around his father to look at you. “You look amazing.” You peeked up at him to see that dopey, puppy dog grin on his face. He dropped to one knee and took your hand. “You’re beautiful.”

A laugh cough sound came out of your mouth. The guilt faded away as it always did when Jon was around. “You don’t look bad yourself.” Jon kissed your palm. Clark watched you both, smiling softly. “I suppose they want us to take pictures downstairs before we go, right?”

“Yeah, they do, and we’ll have to take pictures at the prom and do this long walk thing,” Jon sighed tiredly. “Are you ready to do this together?” He looked you in the eye like he just asked you to go to war.

You bit your lip. Your face heated up. “As long as you’re there with me?”

“To the ends of the earth,” Jon swore, kissing your cheek before pulling you to your feet. Clark shook his head and led the way downstairs. You and Jon shared one last kiss on the lips and went once more unto the breach.

***

“Are you sure you can do it?” you teased, pulling on the end of Jon’s t-shirt.

Jon chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, I can. You’ll get that giant stuffed banana if it’s the last thing I do.”

You eyed the high striker game. “I appreciate the dedication, but I don’t think you need to put in so much that you’ll break the machine.” You glanced around the school gym, which had been converted from a dining room to a dance floor to a carnival in just a few hours. Jon and you had changed into your prom t-shirts to enjoy the games.

“I got this.” He winked at you. The last kid only got halfway up and walked away with a mini stuffed bear. Jon stepped up and picked up the hammer. You glanced around again, folding your hands together to hide your nerves. Your mind kept imagining Jon busting the game and exposing his secret identity just in impress you.

Jon slammed the hammer down hard. The lights flashed and the bell dinged at the top. “We have a winner,” the game operator said. People around clapped. Jon turned to look at you before he pointed at the giant banana. He received his prize and brought it over to you. You wanted to hide when you noticed people were watching you and Jon.

“Come on, I didn’t break it,” Jon soothed, handing you the banana. You took it uncertainly. “It’s not going to blow up, sweetheart.”

“Why a banana though?” You jumped when you heard some teens nearby laughing at your comment.

“Had to give them something to remember you by, right Jonno? Can’t measure up.” A boy clapped a hand on Jon’s shoulder. Jon laughed halfheartedly. You wrinkled your nose, glaring at the boy. He flinched and quickly left with his friends.

“So it’s a sex thing? Is that appropriate for a high school that has locked us in the school gym so we don’t leave to get into trouble?” You tucked the banana under your arm. Jon wrapped an arm around your shoulder, leading you toward the refreshment table.

Jon snorted. “I think they just got whatever they could.” He kissed your temple and got a soda. “Well, we got about two more hours until the hypnotist show.” He took a sip before offering it to you. You took it, enjoying the intimacy of it. “You want to see how many giant stuffed bananas we can win?”

“You realize I won’t be able to take them home. They will have to live with you.” You laughed at how wide Jon’s eyes got.

“Oh, right.” Jon took the soda back and finished it. “Well, we can get another one for Jason at least.”

“I’m sure he’d love it.” You imagined how Jason would react to it. Jon led you down to the basketball game. Your phone beeped while Jon mentally debated if he wanted to try it and how he would win the another giant banana. It was a text from Jason.

I got to go, kiddo. Stay with the Kents.

Your blood ran cold. You quickly texted him back.

What do you mean? What’s happening?

There was a long pause. Jon noticed you were on your phone and peeked over to read the text. “Oh no,” Jon sighed.

“He’s not texting me back, Jon,” you whispered after a long three minutes.

“I’m sure it’s fine. Maybe it’s not about...you know.” Jon took your arm and led you over to sit down on the bleachers. “Let’s just relax, huh?”

You glared at Jon. “Stop protecting me,” you hissed, the rage coming back to you.

Jon bit his lip nervously. “Okay, but we don’t know if it’s...what are you doing?” You ignored him, opening your web browser to find the Gotham Herald's webpage. “(Y/N)...” Your blood ran cold, heart skipping a beat when you saw the first news report.

“We have to go.” You showed Jon the news report about Gotham under siege from an army. The city had been evacuated. Police were the only ones there to keep the peace along with Batman and his allies. “How did we not know about this? Stupid Dick, blocked the news from my phone.” You got to your feet, leaving the giant banana behind.

Jon grabbed your arm and pulled you out to the hallway for more privacy. “(Y/N), there is a reason they didn’t want you to know.”

“Yeah, to protect me. Well, it’s time I stop being protected and face my crimes.” Tears of frustration filled your eyes. “Jon, I did this. I caused this.”

“Sweetheart, we can’t go.” Jon ran a hand through your hair. You flinched. It was too much like Dick. You didn’t want to think of him at the moment. You looked back at your phone to refresh to find a new video. Turning up the volume, you played the video. Jon watched, his eyes going wide with horror as it show Batman being overran by soldiers and being locked down inside Gotham General Hospital.

“Jon, this is Damian.” You bit your lip, dreading the idea that Damian would have another reason to despise you. Deep down, you know you caused this by killing Bane. “We can’t leave him.”

You saw Jon’s eyes flash. He and Damian might not have hung out since your father’s death, but he still cared. “Mom and Dad are going to kill me.” He picked you up in his arms. You barely got your arms around his neck before he zoomed out of the school through the woodshop door that apparently was always open.

“Thank you.” You kissed his cheek once you both were high in the sky, flying toward Gotham.

“Just promise to not leave my side, okay?” The fear on Jon’s face made you frown. You knew you couldn’t promise that.

“I’ll do my best.” You buried your face into his neck. “Take me to the cave.” Your heart fluttered at the idea of going home. Only your stomach sank, hating it had to be for a crisis you caused.

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sometimesiwritebadly · 4 years

Text

Carter (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: You’re a single mother, and your 12-year-old daughter, Carter, decided to track down her father.

Warnings: Mentions unsupportive asshole parents. Also language. References sex (between two underage kids) and teen pregnancy.

Notes: ....so i kinda disappeared for almost a month...and instead of updating my series i have decided to write a whole new fic... sorry? :) in my defence it says right there in my user that i only write SOMETIMES

also this is kinda an au where Spencer graduated high school at 16 instead of 12 yet somehow gets all his doctorates and joins the fbi at the same time. does the math work out? no. do i care? no.

also sorry if your name is Carter. maybe you can pretend you pulled a Lorelai Gilmore and named your kid after yourself

Word Count: 1.9k

Masterlist

“Carter!” You ran through the hallways, paying no attention to the various government agents staring as you made your way to your 12-year-old daughter. About an hour ago, you’d gotten a call from her school because she hadn’t shown up to her classes that morning, even though you’d watched her get on the bus yourself. After the longest 15 minutes of your life, you got a call that freaked you out even more; Carter had gone all the way to Quantico and was now with the FBI. You drove like a madwoman from work, especially since all the FBI Agent, Jareau, had told you over the phone call was that your daughter was safe. Now, that same agent was trying to keep up with you as you marched towards your daughter, who was sitting at a desk in the middle of a busy office.

“Miss Y/L/N, maybe we can take you guys somewhere private to-”

“Carter Rose Y/L/N, what on earth possessed you to skip school and take a field trip to the FBI?” You interrupted the agent, talking to your daughter, whose eyes were now wide in fear. You two don’t fight often- or at all, really. You’d had her when you were only 16, so sometimes your relationship danced the line around the line between mother/daughter and two sisters. This was the first, and hopefully only, time she’d done anything to make you truly angry. Instead of answering you, Carter just looked down at her hands, mumbling something. “Carter, the longer you don’t answer me, the longer you’ll be grounded.” Your voice softened just slightly, but it was enough for Carter to know how worried you’d been.

“I found dad.” Her words made your heart stop. You hadn’t thought about her dad in a long time, you wouldn’t let yourself.

“What?” Carter only looked over to the man that had been standing next to her. You hadn’t even glanced at him, you were too worried and mad at Carter. You looked up at him, and he looked at you, and you felt like your world was crashing down. Spencer Reid. You hadn’t seen him since you were 15, when he’d left to go to CalTech. He was just a couple months older than you, 16 years old, but he was already graduating high school with enough college credit to put him halfway through an undergrad degree. He was set to become one of the youngest doctors in the country. And now here he was, 12 years later. He looked at you with the same wide eyes he had all those years ago, the same look your daughter had on her face.

“Agent Jareau?” The blonde woman came back into your line of sight, but you only glanced at her before looking back to Spencer. “Can you watch Carter for a while?”

“Yeah, of course.” Carter stood up to follow Agent Jareau, but before she could walk away, your hand stopped her.

“You’re grounding starts now, C. Hand it over.” Carter begrudgingly pulled her backpack off her shoulder and opened it. First she placed her phone in your hand, then pulled out a book and handed it over as well. You glanced at the cover. You know for a fact that she finished this book yesterday, so you tucked it under your arm and held out your hand again, and waited for her to place her second book in it. A moment later, another book was in your hand, and you nodded at Agent Jareau, allowing her to take your daughter out of sight to what you assumed to be her office. Finally, you turned back to Reid.

“Hi.” You started, avoiding eye contact. You weren’t sure how to start this conversation. You never thought you’d have to have this conversation.

“Hi.” Awkward silence. Instead of looking at Spencer, you looked around the office space, and noticed that some people were staring at you and Spencer. Spencer followed your gaze, and turned back to you. “Um, those are my coworkers. We have a conference room, do you wanna talk there?”

“Yeah, that’d be good.” You followed Spencer across the office and into a small conference room. You both sat down at the circular table, and Spencer opened his mouth to speak first.

“Is it true?” You only nodded in response, still not able to look at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You took a deep breath before looking up at him to answer. Spencer had tears developing in his eyes, and he was leaning towards you. Raising Carter on your own had been hard, but you’d never even considered how missing out on so much of her life would affect him. “You...you were going to college. You had this insane future ahead of you, and I didn’t want to ruin it. By the time I found out, you were already gone, so…”

“You left Vegas.” Spencer interrupted. “When I came home for Thanksgiving, I stopped by your parent’s house. They refused to talk to me, and said that you transferred to a boarding school.” You scoffed at your parent’s lie. Your parents were pretentious, upper-class people. They’d wanted you to “take a semester abroad,” and quietly give up the baby for adoption. You refused, so you emptied your savings account and booked a ticket to DC, where your cousin was willing to take you and the baby in. There, you finished up your GED online, got a part time job, and began to raise Carter.

“Yeah.” You paused. “She was born May 19th. She’s 12 now.” Spencer was hanging on to every word that came out of your mouth. “She reminds me a lot of you. She’s always reading, and she loves school. I would say I’m surprised that she found you, but she’s way smarter than I am.”

“You never told her about me?”

“I told her some stuff. She knows that we dated in high school, and that you went to college early. I didn’t want her to feel abandoned, so I told her that you left before I could tell you I was pregnant.”

“You could’ve told me.” Spencer didn’t seem angry, but it was very clear how upset he was.

“I know I could’ve. But I was 16, and the only person in my life that was willing to accept me and Carter was my cousin, and she was only 22 at the time. I didn’t want to reach out to you only for you to reject me too.” Your response didn’t appear to make Spencer feel much better. “Look, Spencer, you can be mad at me all you want, but it’s obvious Carter wants to get to know you. I won’t force you to be a part of her life now, but don’t cut her out because you’re mad at me.”

Before Spencer could respond, there was a knock at the door, and a brunette woman poked her head in. “Sorry, I know this is important, but we have a case. Spence, Hotch said you can stay back, work this case from here with Garcia.”

“No, I don’t want to take you away from work.” You saw a stray piece of paper on the table, and reached into your purse to grab a pen. You quickly wrote your number and address on the paper, before pushing it towards Spencer. “Work your case, and when it’s over, we can talk more. It’ll give you some time to think things through.” Spencer looked at your words on the paper, and only nodded in response.

“You daughter is in JJ’s office, I’ll walk you over.” The brunette agent said, so you followed her out to pick up Carter.

~~~

A week later, you hadn’t received any calls from Spencer. Carter asked for updates practically every hour. You were tempted to give her back her phone and books just to get her off your back about him, but she’s grounded. That means the only books she’s allowed to read are for school, but right now it feels like you’re being punished just as much as she is. You were in the kitchen making dinner for the two of you when you heard a knock on the door. “C? Can you get the door? Check the peephole first-”

“I know, I know, never open the door for strangers.” Carter interrupted you, pausing her studying in the living room to walk out of your sight and to the door. You faintly heard the sound of the door opening before Carter spoke again. “Mom? Can Dad stay for dinner?” The mention of Spencer shocked you, and caused you to trip over your own feet and hit your knee against one of the cabinets.

“Shit!” You said loudly, reaching down to rub your hand against what would quickly become a bruise. Just as this happened, Carter and Spencer entered the room. Carter with a large smile on her face.

“That’s a dollar in my jar!” She said happily, grabbing your wallet from the counter and handing it to you.

“Yeah, I know.” You rolled your eyes, pulling a dollar out and handing it to her so she could put it in her jar.

“Mom and I each have a jar, and at the end of the month we go shopping with whatever money we have. Whenever she swears, I get a dollar, and whenever I do, she gets a dollar.” Carter explained for Spencer, then lowered her voice to a whisper, that you still easily hear, “I always have more money to spend.”

“Hey! That’s not true!” You defended yourself, even though you know she’s right. While the swear jar had easily stopped your daughter from using foul language (that she’d picked up from you), you had a lot more trouble holding your tongue.

“If your language is anything like it was in high school, then Carter is probably right.” Spencer joked, causing Carter to laugh.

“You know I don’t have to feed you two, I can eat all of this myself.” You responded, turning back to your stove.

“You wouldn’t!” Carter gasped, which caused you to laugh, giving yourself away.

“Ok, ok, you’re right. This time.” You paused for a moment, “Hey C, Spencer likes reading almost as much as you do. Why don’t you grab one of your favorites from the shelf for him to read?” Carter clearly liked this idea, because she was running to her room in an instant, yelling facts about her favorite book from her room. You knew you’d only have a minute alone with Spencer, so you turned away from the food and back to him. “Are you sure?” You asked.

You could tell from the look on Spencer’s face that he understood exactly what you meant. Once he decides to be Carter’s dad, he can’t go back. You were giving him an out.

“Yes.” He answered, with more confidence than you’d ever seen from him.

“Good.” You said, with a small smile ghosting your face. Just as quickly as she left, Carter came bounding back into the room, carrying 5 books instead of the one you’d suggested.

“I couldn’t choose a favorite book. I read kind of fast, but you can borrow these for as long as you want! I don’t mind sharing.”

“Oh yeah? How fast did you read these?” Spencer asked, looking over the book descriptions on the back.

“I usually read a book a day. Sometimes I finish books in a few hours if they’re interesting enough.”

“Impressive! Maybe one day you’ll be on my level.” Spencer bragged. You tuned out of the conversation as Spencer began talking about how fast he reads, and how Carter could learn to read faster. You just watched them, enjoying the fact that for the first time ever, Carter could have a dad. And maybe, with time, you’ll end up being some kind of family.

~~~

taglist: @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @la-vie-en-amour1 @peculiarinsomniac

#spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid au

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hawkbucks · 3 years

Text

I don't even remember if I reposted it, but here's the WinterIron fake dating AU that I found on my disc drive. I combined all the posts in one; where there's a divider, that means it was a new post.

Lotta fake dating fics have Tony be the one who asks Bucky and I love it, but also: Bucky being the one asking Tony?

Like, maybe Rebecca is getting married and she asks him “are you bringing anyone?” with the most hopeful look on her face.

Bucky sorta bluescreens and stutters out a “yeah” because he knows Rebecca really wants to see him with someone and happy, but he’s only really been focusing on his studies instead of his social life.

She smiles and claps her hands together, exclaiming her excitement to meet Bucky’s date! Meanwhile, Bucky is panicking on the inside.

He could ask Steve, considering that he and Steve are best friends and no one would really question them getting together, but there’s also the fact that Rebecca knows Steve better than Steve probably knows himself and would tell they’re faking right off the bat.

There’s Sam who, despite their teasing relationship, they really do like each other. He wouldn’t have too much of a problem bringing Sam around if he doesn’t already know that Sam would hang this over his head for the rest of his life and all but force Bucky to buy him food and clothes and stuff to repay him, and that’s not even talking about the endless teasing.

There’s Sharon, but she wouldn’t agree. She’d just roll her eyes and call him dramatic. It’s a fair judgement.

There’s Natasha, and they’ve actually dated before and that would be awkward. “Oh yeah, the girl I used to date back when I was a sophomore in high school and I are back together again!”

He still ends up texting Steve and explaining his dilemma and please, Steve, do you know anyone?

Steve tells him he’s an idiot which, fair, yeah, but then he tells Bucky that he knows a guy, cute, your type, I can give him your number. Then he sends Bucky a photo of himself and some other guy with brown hair and pretty eyes and dimples, what the fuck.

Please give him my number.

I can feel your thirst, Steve texts. Disgusting.

So, he brings Tony (all it took was confirming that there was going to be food and that yeah, they have salmon as a menu item, is that what you want me to pick?), and Tony’s a hit! He’s charming, polite, and pretty cute to boot.

Then Rebecca corners Bucky during the reception while Tony’s getting some cupcakes and Bucky immediately jumps to the conclusion that Rebecca figured out that they’re not actually dating and she’s about to tear him a new one, but she smiles and gives him a bear hug. “Your boyfriend is a sweetheart,” she gushes, “and I’m glad you brought him along. And, you know, Robert and I are having a party for Thanksgiving. Maybe you two would like to come?”

And the only thing that runs through Bucky’s head is shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit—

Bucky can’t handle these feelings. He just can’t. It’s too much too soon, and the intensity at which he feels them is both overwhelming and terrifying to him, especially since he and Tony haven’t even known each other for that long.

During the party, Tony really pushes the act. He takes Bucky’s arm and places it around his shoulders, feeds Bucky some pumpkin pie, blushing when Rebecca coos at the both of them, and even sits on Bucky’s lap when everyone heads to the couch to catch the recording of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade that Rebecca set.

And Bucky desperately wishes it was all real. He wishes that Tony really is in love with him as opposed to doing this to help out. He’s never felt warmer than when Tony smiles at him, bright and genuine and making him ache all over. He knows that his feelings are only going to keep snowballing and snowballing until he can’t take it anymore and snaps and confesses to Tony, and he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want Tony to feel obligated to go out with him. He doesn’t want Tony to feel like he’s being put on the spot.

Tony cuddles closer to him, whispering about how the Snoopy float looks really cute. He chokes down a sob and responds with “yeah, doll, it does”.

Bucky drives Tony home. He always does. It’s the least he can do. “So, when are you going to need a boyfriend again?” Tony teases, feet up on the dashboard. They’re already at Tony’s apartment complex, but Tony, infuriatingly attractive Tony, insists on talking to him. “If you’re swinging by Becca’s for Christmas, I can come with you.”

He doesn’t respond, instead choosing to continue looking ahead and squeezing his hands on the steering wheel. “Hey, you alright?” Tony asks softly and, god, he wishes Tony wasn’t the way he was.

Rip it off. Like a band-aid. C’mon, Barnes. “It’s fine. I’ll just tell her we broke up.”

“What?” Tony’s voice wavers, an undercurrent of hurt swimming below that one word. Bucky hates himself for it. “Did I do something wrong? At the party? I—”

Bucky sets his jaw, looking at Tony (and wishing he didn’t because Tony actually looks devastated). “We were never really together, Tony. Don’t act like it matters.”

He hears a hitch in Tony’s breath. He looks away. “Yeah, I guess it doesn’t.” Tony unbuckles his seatbelt and opens the car door. “Maybe this is why you don’t have an actual boyfriend.” It hurts, but it’s better that Tony leaves hating him because he can’t imagine the breakdown he’d have if Tony kept coming around with those kicked puppy eyes of his and asking why Bucky has been avoiding him.

Tony walks into his apartment complex without looking back.

Bucky thinks he needs to get drunk.

And that’s how Steve finds him. Completely sloshed, half-sitting half-lying on the couch with red-rimmed eyes and a tear-stained hoodie. “St’ve,” he slurs, lifting his bottle of Jack Daniel’s.

Steve sighs. “What, did Becks show everyone your baby pictures again?”

Bucky shakes his head. “Fucked up.”

“Yeah, I can see that. At least save some of that for me.”

He shakes his head again. “Tony hates me.”

Steve freezes, halfway through shucking off his jacket. “What did you do?” He looks at Bucky with that Disappointed Parental Stare of his.

“He hates me.” Bucky feels himself start to tear up again as he reminds himself that he won’t be able to see Tony again. Won’t be able to breathe in the comforting smell of that vanilla and cinnamon lotion that he’s so fond of. “Made ‘im hate me.”

“Why in the hell would you do that?” Steve gets his jacket off this time, throwing it on the hook and not paying it any attention when it slips off and falls to the floor with a thud.

“Don’t know.” Which is a lie. He knows why. He just doesn’t want to face it.

“No, no, you don’t get to feign ignorance.” Steve walks over and takes the bottle from him, ignoring Bucky’s protests and whines and taking a few swigs of his own. “I’ve only seen you get this drunk twice before: the first was when you and Nat broke up and you broke into your dad’s liquor cabinet, and the second was when you came home from the army. Considering I don’t see your fatigues with you—”

Bucky growls weakly. “Shut up, Steve—”

“Then stop pushing people away,” Steve growls right back. “You fix this.”

“We didn’t ev’n know each other that long—”

“No, you might not have, but if you’re sitting here on our couch, drunk off your ass ‘cause you think he hates you, that means something. Fix. This.”

Then Steve’s phone goes off. He sets down the Jack and he fishes his phone out of his pocket. A swipe, and it’s unlocked. He snorts, shaking his head. “You know who just texted me?”

Hope. “Tony?”

“No. His best friend. You want to know what it says?”

Bucky doesn’t think his answer matters much. Something tells him Steve will tell him even if he says no. “Go.”

Steve clears his throat. “’Hope your buddy is happy. Tony won’t stop crying.’ Then some middle finger emojis. Seven of them, to be exact.”

Bucky sinks further into the couch, his stomach twisting into knots and nausea rising up his throat now that he knows Tony is crying and he’s the reason why. He makes a swipe at the Daniels, but is unable to reach far enough. “You gon’ reply?” he croaks.

“Oh, yeah. I’m gonna tell him that you’re being miserable, too. And that you’re an idiot.”

Bucky grunts.

“It’s for your own safety. Believe me, if he thinks you’re getting your jollies from this, he’ll send you on a one-way ticket to hell.”

He grunts again. That’s only mildly terrifying. And probably not even close to what he thinks he himself deserves. “You gon’ leave?”

“Yes. And I’m taking this—” Steve picks up the Jack— “with me.”

True to his word, Steve leaves with the bottle of Jack.

Bucky sits up and uses the sleeves of his hoodie to dry his eyes. He tries to keep quiet as he sobs.

The next day, he goes out, stretches his legs after spending the entire night on his couch. He contemplates going to visit Tony and beg for his forgiveness, but it’s… it’s probably too soon. He’ll just wait. In the meantime, he picks up a plush of Snoopy holding a heart. It’s cute.

1 week. He thinks he’ll wait a little more.

2 weeks. Maybe just a bit more.

(Rebecca calls. Asks him about Tony. He says that they broke up. She only replies with a small I’m sorry. It was clear that you two loved each other.

He bites his lip so hard that he tastes copper.)

3 weeks. It’s just a bit before Christmas. Steve comes into his room. “Rhodes texted me. He said Tony admitted that he wants to see you again. Apparently he passed on my word that you were being pretty gloomy about it too.”

Bucky fidgets on his bed. “So, what, I’m just supposed to roll up on his apartment with some flowers and chocolate?”

“Sarcastic bastard,” Steve mutters, although there’s no real venom behind his words. “It’d be a start.”

Bucky thinks for a second. He gets up and starts rifling through his closet. “Alright. Leave so I can change.” Thankfully, Steve obliges. Bucky tucks the Snoopy into his backpack.

He picks up some Ferrero Rocher. He remembers Tony eating them by the handful at the reception. It’s packaged in a transparent box shaped like a heart. For the flowers, he picks up some red roses, the classic choice. He even gets a card that says “I’M SORRY!” with a picture of a sad-looking cat on it.

“Girlfriend troubles?” the cashier asks as they ring him up.

“Boyfriend, actually,” he replies, surprised at how easily that rolls off his tongue.

They hum. “Hope it gets better soon, man.”

He hopes so too. “Thanks.”

Somehow, he manages to make the drive to Tony’s apartment without crashing the car. 6339. He remembers Tony telling him his apartment number if he ever wanted to come up and visit. Looks like he’s finally taking him up on that offer.

Before his nerves can take over and tell him to run and maybe flee the country, he takes the elevator up after explaining to the concierge that he’s there to visit a friend. He knocks on Tony’s door, holding the flowers up in front of his face, the Snoopy plush sitting on top of them along with the card. The box of chocolates he holds behind his back.

When he hears the door open, he pulls the flowers down just enough to see over them. “Hi.”

“Bucky,” Tony breathes out. He looks like he’s about to start crying again, clad in his donut-patterned pajama pants and an oversized shirt that advertises a noodle place that Bucky passed on his way. (Seriously. So many tears!) “Why’re you here?”

“To say sorry.” Bucky holds the flowers out.

“What you said really hurt,” Tony says, voice cracking, but he takes the flowers. “You got me a Snoopy?” He takes the plush off of the bouquet and smiles softly at it before looking back up at Bucky, expression holding cautious hope. He places Snoopy back in the bouquet.

“I know. I’m sorry. I was… I don’t know, scared. Not that I’m tryin’ to come up with an excuse for myself, but… you know.” He shows Tony the chocolates this time.

“Scared?” Tony takes the chocolates like he took the flowers.

“I really like you, Tony. I was thinking about asking you out for real after the party,” Bucky admits, looking Tony in the eye and hoping that Tony can see that he’s being genuine. His palms start getting clammy. Is the temperature rising or is it just him? “And I was scared.”

“Why?” Tony asks, sounding on the edge of desperation. “Why were you so scared you couldn’t just tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want you to feel obliged to say yes.”

Tony tilts his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed as a frown tugs at his lips.

Bucky begins to regret his answer. Obviously it isn’t one that Tony likes.

“Is that it?” Tony sounds gentle. So gentle. “I like you too, you know. And you know I’m not a pushover. If I didn’t want to go out with you, I would’ve told you that.”

“I know. I know, but I never said my mind was good at thinking rationally.” The corner of Bucky’s mouth quirks up at the self-deprecation.

“Mine isn’t either.” Tony places the chocolates with the card and the Snoopy in the bouquet, using that now free hand to wipe at his eyes. His sniffles. “And I have to apologize too. For what I said before I left your car.”

“It’s fine, Tony—”

“No, it’s not. It was such an asshole thing to say.” Tony sounds upset on Bucky’s behalf.

“I made you angry.”

“That didn’t give me the right to imply that you’re unlovable.” Tony stares at him in silent challenge. Try and refute me, his eyes say. “I’m sorry.”

Bucky shakes his head, knowing there’s only one way to end this. “I accept your apology.”

“And I accept yours.” Tony smiles at him, nose tinged with pink, and a burst of warmth spreads in Bucky’s chest. It’s gratifying to see that smile directed his way again. He just might join Tony in sniffling if this continues.

Tony reaches out to grab his hand, lacing their fingers together. “Why don’t you come inside? I can make you some coffee.”

“I’d like that,” Bucky says, squeezing Tony’s hand once. “I’d like that a lot.”

—

If you guys are curious, I listened to this song on repeat while doing this lol. (The link should lead to a video with the English translation!)

#old posts #This is... so much longer than I remember it being.#God the days where I actually did stuff. F in remembrance.

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itsmeevie01 · 4 years

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Bio!Dad Bruce Day 3- Siblings

While Marinette and Bruce had been spending the last few years getting to know each other, he had barely said anything about her to his boys. Many times, he would wait until everyone was busy and slip off to Paris. Three months ago, when he had taken Marinette around Gotham, had been the first time she had come to his home. Of course, she had met Dick, but only briefly. Now, as Thanksgiving approached, Bruce wondered if it would be too much to ask her to join him. To ask her if she wanted to meet her brothers.

After hesitating one last time, he hit the dial button on his phone and held his breath. This would go either really well, or really, really poorly. When he had first gone to discuss with Tom and Sabine, he had told them stories of his boys. Now, he wondered if he had made the right choice to hold off on introducing them.

“Hello? Bruce? Is everything alright?” Sabine’s worried voice at the other end of the line brought him out of his thoughts.

“Sabine, yes, everything is fine. I was calling because I had a question for you.” At the woman’s affirming hum, he continued. “would Marinette be interested in joining me and my family in celebrating Thanksgiving this year? I know that you don’t, but I thought it might be the perfect time to introduce her to the others.” There was a pause on the other end of the line, and he waited. Bruce started to tap his fingers anxiously but refused to open his mouth. If he did…who knows what he would say. The sound of Tom and Sabine talking in French filtered down the line and Bruce worked to keep his mind away from their conversation. Although he wanted his daughter to join them, he refused to eavesdrop on the discussion. At the sound of Sabine clearing her throat, Bruce turned his mind back to the situation at hand.

“Bruce, we’ve talked it over and although we have no problems with Marinette joining you, we would like to leave the final decision up to her.” The man agreed and as both parties hung up the phone, he reminded himself to be positive about the whole thing.

When her parents told her what her Father had proposed, Marinette had been hesitant. Just a few weeks ago, she had received the Ladybug miraculous. The girl was a hesitant hero, but that didn’t stop her from protecting the people who had set their faith in her. After extensively talking the situation over with Tikki, her Kawmii, the teen announced to her parents that she would like to go. That evening, Tikki had slipped out after the girl was asleep and had visited the Guardian. When she had returned, there were a pair of glasses accompanying the small being.

Two months later, the small girl has pulling a suitcase behind her as she hurried through the airport. Although she had arrived in plenty of time, she wanted to be at her gate with time to spare. International travel was not the time to be late. As she sat there, her sketchbook in hand she glanced about. Fall was one of her favorite seasons. To those who didn’t know her, it always came as a surprise, but the accessories were always so diverse, and the colors always made her look fantastic. Just because pink was her favorite color didn’t mean she didn’t have other things in her closet.

A call for her gate pulled Marinette out of her thoughts and she gathered her things and clung to her sketchbook as she got in line to board. Since her father had paid for the ticket, she had not had the chance to dissuade her father from buying her a first-class ticket. At least, she consoled herself, she got to be comfortable on her 8-hour fight.

When she walked out of the Gotham airport, Marinette looked for the man her father had introduced as his butler (it was times like that when she remembered that her father was rich). When she saw him, she hurried over,

“Hello, Alfred!” the older man smiled down at her a gently took her suitcase from her and guided her out to the car that was waiting for them. As she climbed in, Marinette noticed a sleepy teen a who couldn’t have been more than a few years older than herself sitting in the back seat. Alfred gestured for her to settle in as he moved around to the trunk to load her luggage.

“Master Timothy!” When Alfred called the boy to attention, Marinette used the distraction to check on Tikki the small being gave her a thumbs (flipper??) up and the girl leaned tiredly back against her seat, happy to be out of Paris. Now that he was done with his discussion with Alfred, the boy (Timothy?) turned to her with a smile.

“Marinette, right?” at her nod his smile grew, “it’s nice to finally meet you! The last time you were here this summer I was traveling and wasn’t able to meet you.” As the car made its way towards the manor, Tim started to pull her into conversation. First, on her interests and hobbies, then they started to devolve into things they had found on the internet. By the time they made it to the manor, she was comfortable with Tim (wait-he was her brother. A brother!) and he had started to become more aware of their surroundings as well.

While Alfred brought her things up to the room she used when visiting her father, Tim guided her into a den that was hidden away in the maze-like manor. There, Marinette was met with her oldest brother, Dick Grayson, as well as a guy with a shock of white hair. As she made her way fully into the room, she noticed a girl with blonde hair sitting happily inside as well. The group got up as they entered, Dick bounding over to wrap her in a hug while the other two gathered nearby to greet her afterwards. When her brother (!) released her form his hug, the other guy strode forward, a tense smile on his face.

“Marinette?” she nodded, suddenly very nervous. “Nice to meet you, I’m Jason.” He flashed her a more genuine smile before stepping back. The blond had just hurried up to her when the telltale sound pf her father’s steps could be heard outside the door. As soon as he had cleared the doorway, she flew at him. the aww that she was sure came from Dick just made her smile victoriously.

The next day, the family of five (plus the blonde who she learned was named Stephanie) set about decorating the manor under the direction of Alfred. Dick cracked Jokes and Jason grumbled under his breath as he was handed a garland of leaves and told to help Marinette as she used her artistic eye to her advantage.

As they chattered, she turned to her father “why are we decorating for fall still, if it’s almost winter?” her question caught the attention of the others and as Bruce smiled at her, Dick jumped at the chance to explain the holiday to her.

As he talked, he started to light up in excitement. Marinette smiled at the way he emoted and brought what he was saying to life.

The next day, Thursday dawned bright and clear. The air had a nip to it and as Marinette settles outside to enjoy the early morning sunshine, she took a deep breath and sighed in happiness. Three years ago, she had found out who her father was. Now, she was here with the rest of his family (!) And was going to celebrate her first holiday with them.

To her, it made it all a little more real.

When Dick came out to get her, he brought news. Over the next few hours, the rest of the family oils arrive. He smiled at the way she lit up and cautioned her that they could be a bit much at times. As they made their way back inside the manor, he made sure she knew that if she ever got overwhelmed, he would help make sure that she was comfortable in the chaos that was to come.

i just wanted to hop over and let y’all know that this probably will be a two parter that i will finish later this month. I’m sorry the ending was a little rough...

#bio!dad bruce wayne #b!dbwm2020 #My writing #i still cant believe i did this to myself #opps #ml x dc #miraculous ladybug

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hockeyshmockey · 3 years

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Mat Barzal *Day 3 of the 12 days of Christmas*

this one is cute ngl.. also realizing a lot of these imagines are centered and talk about traditions and sorry if it feels repetitive but its something I cherish in my own life so it feels super natural to write about “)

****

You as a New York native could say without a doubt that New York City during the holidays was your favorite time of year ever. Those memories you had as a kid of the first snow of the year, going to see the Rockefeller tree, seeing the light displays. It all only got better when Mat came into your life.

Mat had been in for a real treat that first year you were together. Your obsession with the holidays included Thanskgiving. Once November hit you were laser focused on making sure your apartment was decorated, and of course made sure Mat's was too. You had invited him and Tito both to your parent's place in Staten Island for that Thanksgiving, the boys scared shitless walking into your Italian family home but feeling so welcome, even after Mat was threatened by your uncles and father who had made vague threats of mob connections if he hurt you.

After Thanksgiving came another round of decorating, along with baking, Christmas movies, shopping and all of the activities around New York. That list three years later, also included a charity Gala for the Islanders, the Holiday family skate and party, and more time spent with the Islanders family.

After that first year, you and Mat made it a tradition to go skating at a little family operated rink outside of the city. Anders had introduced you to the rink, and it was never crowded like the ones in the city. So you and Mat every year, would head out to the rink, you would rent skates (you made Mat rent with you to get the full experience), get hot chocolate and skate until you were wobbling like a new born foal.

This year, Mat wanted to add another layer to the experience. After moving in with each other, and several conversations with you about your future together, Mat had made the trip to Staten Island when he came back to the city after the playoffs to sit down with your parents. Your mom had cried, but told him that Mat was the man she had always hoped you would find to spend your life with. Your father had stared Mat down for a while, almost leading Mat to babble uncomfortably, and then your tank of a dad had stood up, indicated for Mat to join him, and had pulled him into a hug and welcomed him to the family.

As December approached, Mat put a date on your calendar to make your trip to the rink. You of course were looking forward to it, as it was one of the best traditions you now had. Little did you know Mat was scheming to have both of your families there. He knew you wouldn't want everyone you knew there, but he also knew that it wouldn't feel right to not have your parents and siblings there as you took the next step in both of your lives.

So he coordinated his parents and Liana's tickets to fly into town. Your mom had offered for the Barzals to stay with them the night before but Mat had booked them a hotel. With his luck that would be one of the times when you popped over to your parents and would run into your families bonding in the living room.

You were woken up that morning with Mat laying on top of you and pressing gentle kisses all over your face to wake you up. "Cmon angel, we have plans today."

"Thirty more minutes?" You pouted up at him as he smiled and got up, grabbing a mug from your side table.

"No honey, you know you like to go early so we can have the rink to ourselves," you sighed and sat up, grabbing the cup of coffee Mat offered you.

Twenty minutes later you were zipping up your boots and grabbing your coat before heading down to Mat's car. The two of you jammed out to Christmas music as you headed out of the city. Some moments, Mat would catch you looking out the window in wonder at the fresh powder that covered the ground from the night before.

Mat pulled into the rink and was pleased to see only five other cars in the lot. As much as he wanted this to be private for both of your sake, he also knew you didn't like skating here with a crowd. The two of you walked over to the booth, greeting Candace who was one of the owners and operators. The three of you chatted as she handed over your passes and grabbed your skates. As you turned away from the counter, you missed the soft smile and wink Candace offered Mat who beamed back at her.

Mat laced up your skates for you, no matter how many times you insisted you were fully capable. He would always shush you and tie them up regardless, not wanting you to have any extra opportunities for a broken ankle. He then laced his own loaned pair up and the two of you headed out on the ice.

Just like every year, Mat held onto you for the first few laps. Until you felt steady on your feet. Then, much like a parent, Mat would let you go and skate on your own. Without fail, you would always turn around to see Mat's reaction to you skating on your own. This time, when you turned around, you saw him down on one knee.

As your hands naturally leapt up to cover your mouth in shock, your body whipped around to fully face him. What happened next, was a story that would be told over and over again. As you turned around, your legs got tangled. And as Mat was down on one knee, waiting for you to focus on him to ask the most important question of your lives, your legs flew from underneath you and you plopped on the ice with an 'oomph'.

Mat raced forward with a call of your name, but you could only look at him in awe. "No, no, I'm fine," your tears were half from pain and embarrassment, and half from happiness. "Just, keep going Mat."

"Angel," he sighed as he slid down to one knee again in front of you, trying to get around the worry he felt. "You are my biggest rock. Ever since we met, you have never failed to call me out and chirp me better than any hockey player I know. You challenge me every day to be a better person, and every day, you surprise me in the love you show me. I never thought I would find something like this. You are my everything, so I was wondering if you would do me the honor of being my wife."

"Oh bubba," you choked out, reaching for him. "Yes, yes one billion times yes." Mat beamed as he literally scooped you off the ice and twirled you around. You pulled back to kiss him, only letting go when cheering broke through your little bubble. You gasped as you looked over to see your family and Mat's standing beside the rink with champagne.

"Oh my god," you cried as you let Mat lead you over to accept the hugs and congratulations from the people who loved you.

"I can't believe you broke your ass for a proposal," Liana cackled and you joined her as you imagined the huge bruise that was bound to appear on your backside later on.

#nhl #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagine #mat barzal #new york islanders #mat barzal imagine #new york islanders imagine #nhl fluff #12 days of christmas

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belovasangel · 4 years

Text

Come Back to Me

Summary: Shawn missing big events leaves to beautiful memories and Christmas miracles

Pairing: Shawn x fem!Nurse!Reader

Warnings: swearing, light angst, fluff, flashback heavy, holiday feelings

A/N: Yup. Surprise. Also flashbacks are in italics, per usual. Also I am not Canadian so I don’t know if y’all celebrate Remembrance Day. For the sake of this story, pretend that it’s the equivalent to Thanksgiving.

Shawn took your hand as you barreled down the sidewalk, laughs flying past you in the wind. Tonight had been a perfect date, something great to wrap the summer up, full of time alone with your favorite guy (and your favorite wine). He had been planning this for weeks now, and you can even remember him talking about this back in June when his tour had been announced. The pandemic put a damper on your two’s plans since March, but once the numbers started decreasing did he get calls from managers, and then... there was another world tour. You weren’t mad, music was his passion. Even though you two would be wrapped in each other’s arms after a lovely night, you could tell behind his eyes he longed to play the guitar for different cities.

That’s why tonight was so important, because he started packing and planning, then he would leave on Wednesday for Prague. And of course, your job needed you in Toronto. While Canada hasn’t experienced any significantly alarming numbers, there were still cases rolling in. You insisted that Shawn goes on tour, so much that you had to pay for his first ticket yourself (he payed you back, though. He insisted).

Shawn skidded to a stop, turning around and putting his hands on your shoulders. “Now promise me you’re gonna close your eyes, just for a few seconds.”

You huffed and shrugged your shoulders, “Shawn I’m out of breathe, you made me run in heels for about half a mile... Give me 5 minutes instead.” With a quick chuckle, he pecked your lips and turned you around. You heard his shuffling from those black boots he wears to rubble, then decided to look around. He somehow managed to find a quaint park, with a nice bubbling fountain and family’s scattered around. Dogs were running a lit in the distance, and the bustle of the city wasn’t nearly as booming as it usually is. This was nice.

“Okay, turn around.”

With a giggle, you turned around to see Shawn on one knee. Behind him was a tree strung with lights that were glowing, and underneath the tree was champagne and a radio playing your two’s song, Turning the Page (Yeah, we know it’s from Twilight, but that doesn’t stop it from being any less romantic). He was kneeled on a red and white picnic blanket, the typical one you’d see in catalogues for fall. On the blanket were rose petals scattered.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), you have changed my life for the better. The moment you saw me in the E.R., and had to take care of my broken hand, I knew you were just as kind and gentle as you looked. Once you let me in, and take you on that shitty first date, I got to see the real you. The you that cries during every Disney movie, the you that would bring me breakfast in bed when I had a rough day, the you that would rescue a damn pigeon off the street because it looked sad. You are the most sincere, selfless, and intelligent woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, and I don’t want ever want to stop or slow down. You have become my life and my rock, I’m completely lost without you. I am utterly in love with you, (Y/N). I want us to have a family, I want to make an album for you, and everything in between. Will you please marry me?”

You shuddered awake, looking quickly at your blaring alarm from the end table. Picking it up and turning it off, the time read 4:25 A.M., signaling it was time to get ready for work. You got up, and went to open the blinds to your bedroom, watching the snow fall steadily. Slipping on your socks and bathrobe, you shuffled to the kitchen to get a cup of tea brewing before you hit the shower.

Mornings like this weren’t incredibly tough anymore, once Shawn was gone on tour. He face-timed you once a week because of tour, sent you letters and packages from your favorite cities, and even had roses delivered on your birthday. And of course, he always said, “Lemme see it. I wanna see you wear that pretty ring. There it is, there she is, soon-to-be Mrs. Mendes.”

Slipping in the hot shower, you played some of his songs, some of your regular playlists, and when you were throwing on your outfit, your two’s song. You missed Shawn. He had missed your two’s favorite holiday, Halloween, where you two always did the cheesy couple costumes. He missed your birthday, but he sent his family in place. He missed Remembrance Day, because in Europe that wasn’t a thing. And tomorrow is Christmas, where he has no sign of coming home whatsoever. That’s fine, though, because you took the long shift at the hospital.

When the song came to an end, you threw on your coat and snow boots, grabbing all the food and equipment you would need for a 12-hour and began to head out. Shawn sent you his daily vlog and you watched that on the shuttle. Once that was over, you got to the hospital where you would forget about your slightly more aching heart. After work, the routine would basically go in reverse. Commute home, get back into your pajama’s, drink some tea, get dinner, and go to bed, where you would have a restless night in an empty bed.

“When do you think we should have the wedding?”

Shawn looked over, a piece of popcorn hanging onto his lip like a lifeline. His cheeks were flushed and he still looked a little sweaty from the show he just played at TD Garden. He knew you were doing the planning to keep yourself from descending into madness (well, not entirely, but you only brought it up when you really missed him). “I think we should do a summer/fall sort of wedding, like when the leaves are red but it isn’t freezing by 5, ya know?”

You hummed in agreement, a smile picking at the corners of your mouth. “I completely agree. Do you want it to be outdoors then, because of the leaves?”

Shawn took another few things of popcorn from the bag and popped them into his swollen lips, he always licked them when he was frustrated by how a show went, or just when his mind was reeling. “I think we should get married outdoors, and then have the reception indoors. Kind of like-”

“Twilight...”

You both looked at the screen and snorted, sending both of you into fits of hysteria. “Shawn, we really base our relationship off of those books, didn’t we?” He looked over, licking his lips once again. “Explain, babe. I get a little bit, but our whole relationship?”

You shuffled in the bed a little bit, “Hear me out, Shawn-y boy. We met when you were hurt and I had to save you, or more-so your career. Edward saved Bella from the car, right? Right. So, there’s that. Then that girl who you worked on the album with tried to get you on the few dates, but that was long after we were official. Boom, Jacob plot line. Then you leave me for your first tour, which I get 100%, so don’t be upset over that. But the girl you worked with saw you kind of sad and made it her mission to befriend you and then attempt to change your mind over me... And our song is the one from their wedding, and we want an outdoors-y wedding.....”

Shawn looked at the screen, then back to the popcorn leaking butter in his hands. “Damn. So you’re saying that I’m Bella?” You began to shake your head, cheeks turning red. “Maybe I meant that wrong, but-”

“No, no you’re saying I’m Bella. Does that mean I get to wear the dress? I cannot wait to get married with no emotions and then have the ugliest CGI baby in the history of cinematics. Aren’t you so excited for that, my love?”

“Absolutely thrilled.”

The alarm on your phone blared once again, pulling you from Shawn. You picked up the phone, getting a few “Merry Christmas” texts from family and friends. You assumed Shawn was out partying with his crew mates, plus it must’ve been a busy day altogether. Turning off the alarm and standing, you pulled on the slippers and followed your routine again.

Once it got to 6:07, and still no text from Shawn, you decided to call him. Immediately, you were sent to voicemail. With a sigh, you waited for voicemail.

“Hey bubs, Merry Christmas! I miss you more than ever, it’s snowing here pretty rough. I know you’d probably go outside right about now and insist to make a snowman or some angels, so that might be a mission for me after work. Um, I wanted to let you know that I love you so much, and I hope you’re having fun on tour... The apartment isn’t the same without you here, especially around this time. You’re probably having fun with your friends and I don’t wanna intrude on that, so I’ll hang up. I love you Shawn, be careful. Stay safe, come back to me soon. Bye.”

Wiping the tear that fell down your cheek, you stepped outside your apartment, hopped into the elevator and began the commute to your shift. You got to work on record time, beginning your patient rounds and vitals, then celebrating with the coworkers. Working 6:30 AM-9:30 PM would be a tough one, but whatever to keep you under that roof. Plus, double-time because of the holiday.

Once it hit 9:30, you booked it out of the hospital and onto the shuttle. Your eyes were barely open as you saw the texts from Shawn.

(Shawn) 7:59 AM: Hey babe, I’m so sorry I didn’t answer your call! I can’t wait to see your face tonight, you still up for FaceTime?

(Shawn) 9:26 AM: I bet you’re busy, but I’m gonna be in a few conferences and doing press so I won’t be able to talk for a while. Love you!

(Shawn) 3:14 PM: (Y/N) I don’t think we can FaceTime tonight, I have to do something for a fan and it’s really important. I am so sorry.

(Shawn) 8:44 PM: Are you mad at me or are you still working?

(Shawn) 9:32 PM: Something is waiting for you at home, it’s your gift. I hope this can make up for the call!

You hopped out of the shuttle, heart feeling extra heavy as you walked into the apartment. The string lights and streamers along the walls were taunting you as the elevator brought you to your floor, and you tried to compose yourself until you would get inside. Stepping up to your door, you looked for the present, to no avail.

(Y/N) 9:45 PM: Shawn I don’t see a package

(Shawn) 9:45 PM: Mom must’ve brought it inside, I’m sure it’s there.

With a huff, you shoved the key into the door, and walked inside. Chucking your purse and coat onto the hooks, while flinging off your shoes, you composed yourself enough to look for the package. If he got it express-shipped it had to be good. Checking the kitchen was no luck, and the living room looked normal.

(Shawn) 9:48 PM: Bedroom, babe

With a gasp, you quickly buzzed to the bedroom, and laid your hand on the door. You stopped, hesitant to what was behind the door. What if it isn’t him? Taking a deep breath, you dismissed the negative thought and opened.

The room was filled with lit tea lights, rose petals on the bed and the floor, and Shawn. He was standing there in that chunky-white knit sweater you loved, with flushed cheeks and watery eyes, holding a bouquet of flowers, and your favorite song playing softly in the background.

You gasped, running into his arms with a squeal and sob, him mimicking the sound. He held onto the small of your back, and one hand on the back of your neck, and you felt his tears falling onto your skin. “I missed you so much, (Y/N). You don’t even know.” He pulled back slightly pressing his lips to yours in a soft embrace.

After a minute of kissing, you pulled back. “Merry Christmas, Shawn.”

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

#shawn #shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x you #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfiction #imagine #love #christmas #lumineshawn

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everybodyscupoftea · 3 years

Text

keeping a secret

pike jj x reader (ft. cody and tyler)

family secret santa in which the boys can’t keep a secret

this made my heart soft btw so y’all are going to melt

(warnings: cursing, light editing)

Secret Santa never worked the way it was supposed to. The four of you drew names the weekend after Thanksgiving, and when you got together to exchange gifts, you had pretty much figured out who had who.

“There’s a forfeit this year,” you interrupted their excited chatter, clutching Cody’s name in your hand, “if I find out who everyone has before we open gifts because of y’all’s dumbasses, you all have to buy me a gift.”

Tyler scoffed, “How is it our fault, maybe you’re just nosy.”

You raised your eyebrows, “So last year you didn’t borrow my chapstick and accidentally slide your slip of paper back into my pocket with the chapstick? And then JJ didn’t literally try and buy my gift while I was in the same room?”

Cody snorted, “She may have a point.”

“Yeah, I have a point. Y’all are sucking the fun out of it, so please, keep it a secret for fuck’s sake.”

“Mhmm, sure. Um, J, what were you wanting for Christmas this year?” Cody asked, grinning at you.

“I’m going to kill you,” you threatened, flipping him off, before pulling your phone out, “everyone send what they want in the group chat.”

You watched Cody’s message roll in and had to hold back a scoff at a date please.

“Cody, you’re being difficult,” Tyler complained.

“Fine,” he huffed and sent something else.

Idk kitchen shit i guess

Now that you could work with.

“You know,” JJ mused from where he was lying on your bed, “I think that you have me.”

“Pardon?” you asked.

“What’d you get me for Christmas, I know you have me for Secret Santa.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “I’m not going to ask how you came to that conclusion, but I want to make it absolutely clear that if you try and ruin Secret Santa again, I will kill you.”

“You won’t,” he answered, confidently, “but I know because Tyler obviously has Cody after the text thing. And I have-” you lunged across the bed to clap your hand over his mouth.

“Maybank, I thought I was clear.”

He smirked and licked your palm until you jerked your hand back, JJ answered, innocent tone of voice, “I was just going to say that I have someone other than myself.”

“Sure you were.”

As you moved to stand, he frowned, grabbing your wrist, “I promise I’ll drop it. Can we study?”

“That’s what you’re here for.”

Wanna go to the mall this afternoon

Came onto your phone in the middle of your class, and you sighed, reminding yourself to respond to Tyler once the lesson was finished. Your professor let the class out early, and you responded, walking toward your apartment.

Yeah sure. What time?

Now. I’ll pick you up at your apartment

Okay I’m not quite there yet

I know. I’m sitting outside

You snorted, not even remotely surprised. He was parked right outside your building, looking down at his phone, and you ducked, sneaking around the front of his truck before popping up and tapping on the driver’s window.

He jumped high enough that his head slammed into the roof and screamed so loud and high pitched that even you flinched. Tyler grabbed his chest and glared at you, flipping you off.

Laughing, you ran around the truck and climbed into the passenger seat and asked, “What’s up, creep?”

“Nothing much, asshole.”

“To the mall?” you said, buckling up.

“Yeah, gotta get my Secret Santa gift.” You gave him a look, and he glanced over at you at a red light, “What?”

“Ty, baby, please tell me you’re not bringing me to spoil Secret Santa.”

“I’m,” he paused, “not?”

“Uh huh. Well, I hope you’re buying one for me too, that’s the deal.”

“How do you know I’m not getting one for you in the first place.”

“Tyler,” you warned, “I swear to god.”

“Darling,” he answered, “I��m not religious.”

You groaned, “I’m going to kill you before your driving does.”

“I need help,” Cody told you, sitting down with a dramatic frown.

“With what?” you tossed your notebook aside to give him your full attention.

He smiled sheepishly, “Can you wrap my gift for me?”

“What?”

“I know you’re joking. Did the three of you plan this? You’ve all done this.”

“Done what?”

“Tried to ruin it for me.”

“Nope, it’s honestly coincidental and absolutely hilarious.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m not helping you.”

“Fine,” he pouted, “I guess that my person will be very disappointed, don’t want to upset-” and before he could answer, you kicked out and hit his thigh hard.

“Cody, you’re going to make me do something drastic.”

He smirked, “Oh yeah, like what?”

“I’m going to spoil it for you. I know how much you love Christmas.”

Cody looked conflicted, “Damn, you’ve kinda got me there.”

“Wrap your own damn gifts.”

You showed up to the frat house in your pajamas, ready to exchange gifts. Cody was in the kitchen, finishing up some snacks for the group, and you leaned against the counter, “Good afternoon, sir.”

“Good afternoon, ma’am.”

“Excited for today?”

He beamed, “Of course.”

Tyler stumbled into the kitchen rubbing sleep out of his eyes, and you gaped at him, “Bro, it’s 2 p.m.”

He yawned, scratching his stomach, “I’m catching up on sleep.”

“From what?”

“Life, bro. It’s exhausting being alive.”

Which, fucking true. You held your fist out for him to bump, “Feel that.”

“Nap later,” he suggested and you nodded.

JJ came down the stairs next and tilted your chin up to kiss you hello, tapping his fingers on your jaw a few times before pulling back.

Tyler made a gagging noise and reached for a mug of coffee Cody poured. JJ rolled his eyes, “Don’t be bitter.”

“Can we just open gifts?” Tyler whined.

You laughed and nodded, “Yes, let’s take a seat, shall we?”

Cody looked at you warily, “Why the tone?”

“Tone?” you asked, faking innocence.

JJ side eyed you, “You know?”

“I know.”

Tyler groaned, “Literally how? Who blabbed?”

“Cody did. He drunk texted me asking what JJ wanted.”

He smiled sheepishly, “I have zero recollection.”

“Okay but how did you figure out the rest?” Tyler interrupted.

“You have me, we didn’t buy anything at the mall that time we went, but you followed me around all afternoon, trying to figure out what I was interested in.” Tyler narrowed his eyes, “That obvious, huh?”

“It was. Which means JJ has you because I have Cody.”

Pushing himself back, JJ laughed, “Got it in one.”

You crossed your arms, “So I will be accepting gifts from JJ and Cody in the near future, thanks.”

Cody sighed, “We figured you’d find out, so we actually already ordered them, just not in yet.”

“Oh my god,” Tyler muttered, “y’all are awful.”

“Hey,” Cody pointed at him accusatory, “just because you weren’t at fault doesn’t mean you get to take a moral high ground, you’re the one who ruined it last year.”

“Yeah,” JJ added on, “I’m the only one who gets to take it.”

“You ruined it the first year,” you reminded him, “well, Brooke did I guess. She texted me asking why the fuck you were spending more money on my gift than hers.”

Tyler choked on his coffee, “What?!”

JJ’s jaw dropped, and you suddenly realized you’d never told any of them about it. They all stared at you, waiting for a response, “Yeah, she was mad I guess.”

“Jesus Christ,” JJ muttered.

Cody laughed, “God she was the fucking worst. That’s why your gift was cheap sweetheart.”

After a few more seconds of laughter, JJ finally interrupted, “Okay, we should actually exchange gifts.”

“Right, so, I had Cody,” you started, passing over your gift.

He tore into it and pulled out the apron that said plant mom in a script font with plants scattered randomly all over the front. He snorted, “This is fucking fantastic.

“Thank you,” you beamed, “but there’s actually more, so don’t get stuck on the apron.”

Cody pulled out a set of hockey tickets, two for the upcoming Hurricanes Leafs matchup and gasped, “Dude, oh my god, I’m going to kiss you right now.”

Laughing, you puckered your lips, “Any time, baby.”

JJ chuckled, “Mr. Steal My Girl, huh?”

“Maybank, she’d leave you in a fucking heartbeat for a Leafs player, we both know that. I’m not quite as great, but I’m close,” Cody fired back, softening it by sliding his gift for JJ across the table.

Picking it up, JJ shook it a few times before digging through the bag. He made a weird face and pulled out a pair of boxers. His jaw dropped and Cody was very clearly holding in laughter.

“What is it?” Tyler asked, eyebrows furrowed.

Wordlessly, he held them up and flipped them around so everyone could see daddy issues written across the ass in pink writing.

You and Tyler busted out laughing as Cody sat, arms crossed looking smug. JJ was clearly unsure how to feel, close to laughing, until Cody took pity, “Don’t worry, bro, there’s more in the bag.”

Sure enough, JJ pulled out a new wallet, one he’d been eyeing for months but hadn’t pulled the trigger on because it was a bit out of budget. Smiling softly at Cody, he told him, “Thanks bro, love you.”

“Love you too, J.”

“No sappy hours early,” Tyler interrupted, “give me my gift.”

“It’s 2 p.m.,” JJ muttered but passed the box over to Tyler anyway.

He tore into it and JJ jolted forward, “Dude, it’s breakable, chill.”

Inside was a nice tea set and a box of fancy teas. Tyler blinked a few times, in awe of the contents, “Woah.”

“I know you like tea more than coffee, and we never have any here, so I figured I’d set you up.”

“I-” Tyler cut himself off, “wow, this is really thoughtful. Thanks buddy.”

“Anytime. I’ll tell you where I ordered them too so if you like one you can order more. I kinda just got a starter pack.”

“Yeah, that would be sick.”

JJ squeezed his shoulder and Tyler cleared his throat, passing a small bag across the table. You picked it up, curious, and pulled the tissue paper out. After looking, you let out a loud laugh, “Great minds, huh?”

“Great minds,” Tyler nodded, folding his hands.

“What is it?” JJ asked, leaning over.

“Leafs tickets. Two of them.”

“Well,” Cody said, “guess we can all go now. Sitting in different places, but we can make a trip of it.”

Tyler lit up, “I didn’t even think about that!”

“Boys night,” Cody cheered.

“Fuck yes,” you agreed, clutching the tickets to your chest.

“Oh,” Tyler leaned forward, “there’s something else, but it’s in my room, be right back.”

He disappeared up the stairs, and JJ stood to grab his wallet to start switching everything over. Cody looked pleased, and Tyler came running back down a few seconds later with a box in his hand.

“This too,” he huffed out, collapsing back into the chair.

“You’re going to break that one day,” you warned him, tearing into the wrapping paper. Inside was the pair of running shoes you’d talked about the day you went to the mall with him and you smiled, “Thanks, bud.”

“Mall trip successful,” he responded, taking the last sip of his coffee before standing again, “who wants tea?”

“Me,” you answered, standing with him while Cody started pulling out plates for the snacks he’d made.

In the loudness of everyone talking over each other, you just had to smile. Sure it was chaotic, but it was your family, and you loved them all dearly.

“Oh,” you remembered, “Cody and JJ I expect my gifts on Christmas Eve, thanks.”

Cody groaned and JJ squeezed his shoulder, “You have no one to blame but yourself.”

for day nine of @obxmermaid‘s holiday challenge: secret santa

#pike!jj #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fic #outer banks #outer banks fic #cody and tyler #obxmermaidholiday #frat!jj

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