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ashes-writing · 2 years

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more than a feeling part IIII | stranger things ; e. munson

A/N ; This one got real angsty, real quick. There's a lot of angst here so.. If that's not your thing and you're here for the fluff, I apologise. Or maybe I don't, Idk. I don't write angst that often so the fact that this even happened when I sat down to brainstorm exactly what I wanted to do with the next part kind of shocked me. But I rolled with it.

Also omg, I'm really really stunned by the fact that people are actually reading my bullshit, -any of it. Thank you sm. It means the world to me. I just hope that you're enjoying and you take whatever resonates and like.. somehow this makes someone's day out there in this crazy fuckin world, I guess.

I swear to God and all that's holy this story is going to get happy again in the next part. Hopefully, that'll make up for the shitstorm we all know as angst that I've apparently chosen to bring down on all our heads.

Pairing ; Eddie Munson x New!Girl reader (Ngl, I'm lowkey afraid she's so heavily personified that she's dangerously close to being an actual oc, all apologies but I'm doing my best not to mention any physical attributes beyond her/reader being female.)

Timeline / Other Stuff to Note ; part I | part II | part III can all be found by clicking the little link things. Probably a good idea to read those before this if you haven't, otherwise you'll be all sorts of confused. This takes place in season 4's timeline (in that it's 86 and that reason alone) but this is not going to have the Upside Down and all of it's unholy horrors nor will Eddie be dying.

Tag List ; @musichealsscars is the only person on my actual Stranger Things tag list but as usual,I toss out a tag to @rampagewriting -- feel free to ignore bb!. if you'd like to be added to my taglists for anything including Stranger Things, please let me know or add yourself -> here.

Warnings ; listen.. the angst is here and it is real. readers mom / alcoholism / her just being a flaky ass person in general and not there for her kids - a shitty parent in other words comes up a lot in this chapter too so if that bothers you, it's advised to skip over this. Beyond that, there's really not anything else to warn about.

Other Stuff ; tag list doc || my rules - fandoms and some characters I write for || requests are open (pls.. pls... send me things) but they're limited to headcanon asks + filth/fluff alphabet letters and I'm not accepting wrestling / wrestlers in my ask box. Any other fandom/character but wrestling that I happen to write for is fine and I beg of you -> send me things.

I do not consent to my work being reposted elsewhere or copied/reworked/rewritten and reposted here or elsewhere. You don't own this, I do. So like... don't steal my shit.

“You realize how stupid this is, right?”

Dustin Henderson’s question has you glancing up from the pot of jambalaya you’re stirring. “Hm?” you ask, a brow raised as you gaze at the freshman. Dustin switches your little sister Lola from one hip to the other. “It’s stupid. You’re planning to set Chrissy Cunningham up with Eddie. I uh.. I overheard you earlier on the phone.”

“It’s not stupid. Eddie really likes her.” you feel a little jealous as you say it, but you push it down. You remind yourself that you’re going to wind up leaving, probably sooner rather than later because your mom’s time in the program is coming to a close, and you tell yourself that it doesn’t really matter what you want anyway. You stir the pot in front of you and watch it simmer and bubble.

Dustin laughs to himself. You really are that oblivious. Eddie hasn’t been interested in Chrissy for at least a month now. His focus has kind of shifted over to you completely.

He rubs the bridge of his nose as he tries to comprehend the true depths of your obliviousness and he puts your little sister down. Lola runs off to watch cartoons in your grandmother’s living room.

Dustin’s gaze settles on his hands. “I think you’re wrong. And even if I’m wrong and you’re not, you’re missing one thing…” he goes quiet. The way to say this is tricky, it’s something that has to be done delicately.

But there’s this underlying sense of urgency too because the fact that you could realistically be forced to leave Hawkins any day now is hanging over everything like a big black cloud. It’s driving Eddie crazy, Dustin hasn’t seen him so twisted inside out in the entire short span of time that he’s known Eddie Munson.

“Yeah?” you ask, taking a bite of the jambalaya to test it. Fanning your mouth when the heat in the food burns your tongue a little. “Shit! That’s hot.” you mumble, mostly to yourself and mostly so you won’t focus so much on everything going on in your head right now. “What am I missing, Henderson? Because it all seems pretty simple to me, kid.”

“You’re not thinking about what you want. I mean, c’mon. You like him. You like like him. It’s not the secret you think it is, alright? The only reason Eddie hasn’t figured it out yet is because he refuses to., because you're both oblivious assholes, jesus christ..”

“No. Because he likes Chrissy.” you shrug as you say it. You’re too damn tired of holding in the way you feel and maybe that’s why you don’t bother attempting denial at Dustin’s accusation. You pick a sausage out of the pot and pop into your mouth. “If he likes her, what I want kind of doesn’t matter. Look, it’s simple, kid. I fix them up, the big idiot is happy.” You rub the bridge of your nose because this entire conversation is beginning to get a little too heavy for you right now. “And when I’m gone, the big idiot takes care of the little naive cheerleader. Everybody wins."

Dustin palms his face. Talking to you is like talking to a brick wall and he tells you as much when he speaks up again. "Except you."

You laugh and roll your eyes at the kid standing in your grams kitchen. “It’s happening, okay? It.. It has to. The sooner, the better.” and maybe you shouldn’t have -you definitely shouldn’t have, told Dustin Henderson what you did next, but out it came, regardless. “Look.. If he’s all distracted and in love with her then it’ll make it easier for me to kind of like..” you toy with the sleeves of the yellow and black plaid flannel you’re wearing as you sigh, “It’ll make it easier for me to distance before I can’t and I’m attached.”

“Oh, I think it’s way too late for that.” Dustin taunts. You flip him off and grumble. “What’d you come by for anyway?”

Dustin chuckles. What you don’t realize is that him and Mike Wheeler are currently working with Chrissy to pull a sort of reverse uno on you. Because Chrissy came to them and asked for help after telling them what she knew. Everything, in detail.

Including the way you kept casually bringing Eddie’s good points up in conversation and hinting that they’d be cute together.

And it’s not that she doesn’t like him or there’s not an attraction there, it’s the fact that she knows that you don’t just like him. You love him and you’re freaking out about it because this sort of thing is not something that happens often because you never let it.

Until you moved to Hawkins to live with your grandparents.

He’s here to do his part in the little reverse uno plan. He’s been tasked with getting you up to the woods at Lovers Lake on Halloween night.

Because that’s originally how you were going to set it up with Eddie and Chrissy.

“ We’re kind of throwing this surprise,” he stalls for a second as his brain tries to come up with something, anything that’ll get you up to the woods on the night in question. He grins and his face lights up as the perfect pitch forms. “It’s a Halloween thing. I thought since you always sit with Hellfire at lunch, you’d wanna come too.”

You eye him warily. “What kind of Halloween thing, kid?” you question.

Dustin stammers.

“C’mon, spit it out.” you coax, tapping your foot against the kitchen floor.

“It’s just a Halloween thing, damn it. Jesus christ, do you always have this many questions?” Dustin scoffs at you while pouting. You laugh. Then you shrug. “Yeah, I’ll come I guess.”

“Cool! I gotta get going. I told Mike I’d meet him.”

“Yup.” you laugh. Dustin bolts out of your grandparents farmhouse and you wander over to the counter your busted ass boombox is sitting on and you flip through the stations idly until you find one playing Burning For You. Humming along, you leave the radio alone.

The landline is ringing, so you wander over to pick it up.

Your stomach drops when you hear you mom’s voice through the pop and static of the payphone on the other end of the line. “Ma?” you hold the phone away from your ear when the static is too loud.

“Sweetie, hey.” there’s just something about the dulcet softness of her voice that has you tensing up all over.

“Ma?”

“I’m here, stormy. How’s everything going?”

You twirl the curled cord around your finger as you pull yourself up onto the kitchen counter to sit. “Good. Great, actually. It’s really nice here.”

Your mom almost seems relieved when you say it. A little too relieved.

Then you hear the long honk of a semi and traffic as it whizzes past and your brows knit together. “Ma, where are you?”

“ That’s why I’m calling, stormy..” your mom trails off. You swallow hard, waiting on the other shoe to drop. When she starts to talk about how she never meant to meet the man of her dreams in rehab and she swears that she’s fine, she’ll be sober, things might actually be normal this time, you roll your eyes and jam the heel of your hand into your eye because you can feel yourself tearing up.

She’s pulled this before. The added step of checking herself into rehab is a new step but the last time she ducked out and disappeared when you were twelve, it was the same story she’s telling you now. And out of nowhere, the anger bubbles up before you can stop it. When she gets to the part where she tells you she just needs space and time, she needs to be her own person so she can be better for you and your little sisters, the door to your grandparents farmhouse bursts open and your grandmother rushes in, soaked from the storm.

Wordlessly, you shove the phone into your grandmother's hand and you grab your keys, storming out of the farmhouse. You start off with every intention to just drive up to the quarry and scream til your throat is hoarse but instead, you take a turn and you wind up going in the direction of the trailer park.

To Eddie.

Because in all your mother’s insanity, he’s the first person you thought about. He’s the one person you want to see.

The lightning rips through the sky outside your windshield with a jagged and loud rumble and you wipe at your eyes as you turn down the road leading into Forest Hills.

The Munson trailer comes into view and you stop the car, leaning your forehead against the wheel. You just need to pull yourself together, you think. You need to be okay. You don’t want him to see you like this, you just want to be here. With him.

You take a few long and shaky breaths as Metallica’s Fade To Black plays quietly, it’s a mixtape you swiped from Eddie’s van earlier in the week.

Eddie’s uncle Wayne is sitting in the living room when the headlights shine through the front window. With a brow raised, Wayne stands and wanders over, peering out the front door. From the dim glow of the headlights, he can just barely make out you sitting inside the car with your head against the wheel.

“Hey, Eddo?”

Eddie puts down the battered copy of Lord of the Rings and listens for a few seconds. In the living room, his uncle is calling his name for something. But through the crack in his bedroom window, he can just barely hear Fade To Black playing and the sound of your car idling outside. It’s enough to prompt him into wandering out to the front of the little trailer.

Wayne nods to the lawn. “Somethin’s wrong, kid. She didn’t come flyin in here like a bat outta hell in that death trap. She’s just been sittin there at least a minute or two now.”

Eddie’s hand raises and settles on the back of his head.

“Yeah. I’ll uh..” he takes a deep breath. “I’ll go see what’s up.”

Eddie makes his way out into the yard and over to your car, knocking on the window.

You look up at him for a few seconds, and then you reach out and shut off the engine. When you get out of the car, you lean against him, kind of just.. Melting into him with your forehead against the front of his shirt.

“I fuckin hate her right now, man. I really fuckin believed she gave a shit.” you mutter quietly. Eddie’s brow raises. “Who?” he gently grips your jaw to make you look up at him.

“My mother.” you answer quietly.

“She’s..” Eddie feels like the wind has just been knocked out of him, like his stomach dropped to his feet. “Did she come back? Are you leaving?” the questions come in a rush because he’s been dreading this moment.

You laugh and it sounds almost bitter. “She’s out but she’s not here.” you wipe your eyes and Eddie notices you’re trying to stay out of the dim light of the streetlamp nearby. When he hears the way your breathing is uneven and ragged, he realizes exactly why.

You’re crying.

“Hey, c’mon.” he mutters, slipping an arm around you as he coaxes you up the stairs and into the trailer. He closes the door behind him and when his uncle gestures at you while you’re sitting on the couch with your knees to your chin and your arms around them, Eddie shakes his head, mouths that he’ll tell him what’s going on later, when and if he finally manages to get it out of you.

Wayne nods and then clears his throat. “Gotta get going. The night shift, it’s a bitch.”

Eddie tosses his uncle the keys to the van and Wayne leaves for work.

For about ten minutes, neither one of you says a word. But then the silence is too much.

“So you’re not leaving but she’s out.” he wonders aloud. You look up at him and give him a thumbs up.

“Mhm. She met some guy. They’re going somewhere, I think she said Montana. My sisters, man. They were counting on her.” you clench your fists and shake your head, laughing again. “I know better though. I mean, she had me fooled, the whole “I wanna be better for the three of you'' speech.” she gave when she dropped us on my grams doorstep.” you pull yourself up off the couch and the pacing starts. And the ranting. When you’re about to take a swing at the flimsy sheetrock, Eddie’s hand shoots out, stopping yours before you can do it. “Hey! Hey.” he holds onto your hand and swallows hard.

You take a deep breath and you stare at the way his hand is closed around your wrist.

When you melt into him again for the second time in a night, he wraps his arms around you and his nose pushes into the crown of your hair. The spicy scent of whatever food your grams or you were cooking before you showed up at his place fills his nose, almost overpowering the usual combination of strawberry shampoo and the perfume you wear most of the time that smells like sugar cookies.

He breathes in deep. And all the tension he’d been feeling just kind of goes away because he’s looking at this as a huge bullet dodged with the odds in his favor. But then he feels like shit because you’re hurting -really bad, he’s never seen you like this.

He gets you looking up at him.

“Are you okay?”

“I will be.” you take a few shaky breaths and you work on pulling yourself together again. “ I swear to God, I never wanna be like her. Ever.”

“You’re not. You won't be, alright? I mean it.”

You give him a weak nod. “I try not to be.” you mumble quietly. You haven’t pulled away from him and maybe it’s selfish but you don’t really want to. Because he’s warmth, he’s tangible. He’s real. He’s not all smiles and soft tones and false promises.

“When she finally drags herself back here, I…” you pause a second or two and you clutch at the front of his Hellfire shirt. “I’m not leaving with her. I’m sick of her doing this.”

Eddie relaxes even more.

He’s not losing one of his best friends. More importantly, he thinks to himself, he’s not losing the girl he loves.

“Good.” he mutters quietly, his hands moving up and down your back because he’s noticing that your breathing has started to slow down. It’s almost like what he’s doing is calming to you and the thought prompts just the smallest hint of a smile from the taller boy as he towers over you where you both stand in the middle of his living room. “What about your sisters?”

“Oh, they’re not going either. Not if I have anything to say about it. I don’t care what I have t’ do at this point.”

Eddie smiles. It seems to relieve him when you say that.

It does. He knows how close you are to your little sisters, even when you’re griping about the way they’re always getting into your books or your art supplies or your clothes and makeup. He couldn’t imagine you just letting them go off with your mother, not after the little bits you have told him about her.

“Hey.” he coaxes when you rub your forehead and wince. “It’ll be okay. You’ll see.”

You nod and give a weak grin.

Maybe it really will.

“You didn’t go up to the quarry to scream it out.” Eddie says it aloud as soon as he realizes. You shrug and you lightly swat his shirt. “Okay, Munson. Maybe I thought coming here would be better. Maybe. Don’t go getting an ego or anything, shit.” you say it in half jest, but you’re basically admitting something really huge before you can stop yourself.

And you’re left praying to whatever god or goddess chooses to lend an ear that Dustin was right earlier, that Eddie really is clueless. Because things have been a little… Intense between the two of you as of late. There’s this heaviness in the tension. A hint of awkwardness.

Now that you’ve decided you’re not leaving if or when she finally decides to be bothered with coming to collect you and your sisters, you’re left with one huge decision.

Can you really go through with setting Eddie up with Chrissy after all?

And suddenly, just like that, everything is overcomplicated yet again.

Doe eyes settle on you in concern. “You’re okay… Right?”

You nod. “I will be. I just, uh… I wanted to get out. Clear my head.” you shuffle your feet and fidget with the edge of your sleeve. Eddie nods.

“Yeah. I don’t blame you. Hey…” he pauses, tilting your chin so that you’re looking at him. “Do you wanna come back to my room? We can just sit there, you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”

You nod and follow him down the hallway and into his room and you flop on your stomach across his bed. Eddie flops down next to you and you reach out, grabbing the book he’d been reading prior to your arrival.

He grabs it back from you and props himself back against the wall, patting the space beside him. “C’mon, midget. Ya know, as much as you say this book bores you.. You like reading over my shoulder.”

You give him a dirty look and stick out your tongue. What you don’t dare tell him is that it’s not so much the reading over his shoulder, it’s when he gets tired of you doing it and starts to read the page he’s on to you after giving you one of his annoyed looks.

His voice is yet another thing you find calming and you’ll probably wind up taking it to the grave if you actually do go through with your little plan to play cupid between him and Chrissy, but you could listen to him talk about anything, no matter how dull, for hours.

You settle in next to him and he picks up the book, opening to the place where he left off. And you sit there and watch him read quietly. Your mind is racing a million miles an hour because suddenly, you don’t know what the hell to do anymore.

You just know that you’re staying.

This opens up a whole new realm of possibilities.

The thing is, are you brave enough to consider them?

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x fem!reader -kind of #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader imagine #// tw for rehab / shitty parenting / alcoholism mentions #// angstttt. it's gotta get sad before it gets happy I suppose.#// in which snark attempts angst.

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yourdepressionishere · 2 years

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Zaconthea (Chapter 1)

Title: Zaconthea (Chapter 1)

Pairing: The Doctor x Female OC (all platonic btw)

Word Count: 466

Warnings: Mentions of war, violence and death, a bit angsty, language.

A/N: This is the first fanfic I’ve written. Please, keep in mind that English isn’t my first language, so there might be some spelling mistakes. 😅

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I crawled into the mysterious blue box. The people out there are crazy. I thought to myself as a few bombs could be heard going off in the distance. The sound of war made me panic even more as I shoved myself into the most confined space I could find, pressing my little sister’s toy as close to my chest as possible and curling my body around it. Squeezing my eyes shut I tried to drown out the sounds of bombs and gunfire with the lullaby my mother always sang to us. A new set of fresh tears ran down my face as all of the memories of my family began to flash in front of my eyes again. Why am I the only one who got out..? It should’ve been m- sHIT! Someone’s coming! Footsteps could be heard outside of the door of the mysterious blue box. The door opened and a weird-looking creature entered the blue box. I clamped a hand over my mouth as my eyes widened in horror, shoving myself further into my tight, already confined hiding place. Did they see me crawl in here?!

The creature started rambling rather loudly to themselves while running around like some sort of madman, pushing buttons and pulling levers.

What felt like at least 30 minutes later the creature was still rambling on and on about when and/or where they should go next while still running around looking like a madman and pushing buttons. You’ll be dead before you even reach any planet if you are what I think you are. I didn’t mean to sound rude, but this person clearly wasn’t Zathean. They looked very much like those people that walk the Earth. Humans. And human life expectancies aren’t very high compared to Zatheans. Plus the nearest planet from here was at least 65 years away.

Suddenly something hit the blue box. I involuntarily got thrown out of my confined hiding place, almost breaking my right shoulder in the process, while the creature also fell to the floor. Ah crap! The creature looked at me, stunned. I hadn’t realized that the sound of war had stopped, because the next thing I knew, the creature pulled me to my feet and immediately began to ramble about something they deemed as being fascinating, tools being shoved in my face. It was quite overwhelming. I once again squeezed my eyes shut.

“...oO- I’m so sorry! I completely forgot to ask!”

“...Hm..?”

“Ah. Yes. What’s your name?” They smiled at me.

“...”

“Ohh come onnn! Alright. You tell me your name and I’ll tell you mine.Hm? How ‘bout that? Sound like a deal?”

“...It’s Cia..”

“Ahh! Nice to meet you, Cia. I’m the Doctor.” His smile widened, as he took my hand in his and shook it.

#the doctor x oc #doctor who x oc #the doctor #doctor who #dw #doctor who fanfiction #doctorwho #doctor who fic #doctor who fanfic #doctor who scenario #platonic #fanfic #fanfiction

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morwap · 2 years

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hey love, hope you doin well, stay healthy and happy. can you do a blaise x malfoy!reader angst? maybe reader is pregnant and they have a big fight before reader tells him and they broke up then few years later they met at the malfoy manor for a death eater meeting and blaise saw his son/daughter and they have a heartbreaking conversation and reader left London. but if you find the idea too classical its okey i just want to read a blaisexmalfoy!reader angst. thank you and love you

hi love! thank you! you too :) ily

this is an amazing idea but I LITERALLY SUCK AT ANGST TBHHH SO PLEASEEE IF IT DOESN’T COME OUT ANGSTY ENOUGH IM SORRY😭 the war is pushed way back to where they are already out of hogwarts and stuff. i honestly suck at heartbreaking shit so i’m sorry if this is not what u wanted 😭

“no i’m not making you suffer through this” blaise yelled as you massaged your temples, “you know i already have the mark- i can’t do anything about it” he added. “we can leave” you said trying not let the tears run down your face, “you know we can’t- your mom and dad would find us” blaise sighed. “we need to split up- for your safety. i’m not letting this happen to you” blaise said as he started to pack his things.

“blaise please-“ you started but was cut off by him pulling you into a hug, “i’m sorry, i don’t want you getting hurt” he whispered pulling back and placing a kiss on your forehead. blaise was crying watching you stand there with your palms wiping your tears. “you remember that plan you made up to get out of here?” he asked, you nodded “follow through with it, please” blaise said.

you had planned on moving, moving as far away from the malfoy manor as possible and cutting all contract ever since you heard that draco was getting the mark, you were supposed also but fought against it.

you watched him go, you glanced over at the box with the pregnancy test in it. you were about to tell him before he came in tears in his eyes talking about the dark lord.

years past and you had moved to france and had your son. he was beautiful and for the most part looked like his father just with a few features that were from your side. he was sweet and kind and had been sorted into hufflepuff.

you had gotten an owl from draco saying that he needed you to come back and talk about some things plus astoria wanted to see you. you reluctantly went and brought your son with you.

“mom are we seeing uncle draco?“ your son asked clinging onto your jacket, “yes love” you sighed and smiled at him before getting on the train.

you shivered as you stood looking up at your childhood home, you sighed and gripped your sons hand tighter as you both walked up to the doors. draco opened the doors as soon as he heard the doors, you had mentioned your son in a letter to astoria once and then received two letters from draco asking about him.

“hi there bud” draco greeted and your son smiled and said hello. “y/n it’s good to see you” he said and pulled you into a hug.

you two caught up with each other, your son playing with the record player in the living room and astoria asking about how it is in france. there was a knock, you turned your head, it was blaise. your heart dropped to your stomach. “blaise!” draco smiled and hugged him. you watched the two talk and blaise sneakily look over at you then to your son.

they were done talking, and you stood up walking over to blaise. “can we talk?” you asked and he nodded, you both walked to the empty hallway.

“is that your son?” he asked, “yeah” you sighed anxiously picking at your nails. “is he mine?” blaise asked his voice trembling, you looked down “yes he’s yours-“ “why didn’t you tell me!”

“i was going to but then we were fighting about Voldemort and everything. i didn’t want to put more stress on you” you said rubbing his arm trying to calm him down as he cried. “i’m so sorry” you whispered and pulled him in for a hug, “i’m sorry y/n i wanna be in his life” blaise cried more. “of course you can be in his life blaise, you have every right. he’d love to get to know you” you said rubbing his back.

“have you told him about me?” blaise asked wiping his tears, “of course, he has the right to know i wasn’t gonna keep it from him” you said as he pulled away from your hug. “we can talk about it over dinner sometime” you offered and blaise nodded “yeah sounds good”

#blaise zabini #lighting era #blaise zabini x reader #lighting era x reader #blaise zabini imagine #blaise x reader

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yourmcu · 3 years

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Forgotten (CONTINUED VERSION)

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader, Peter Parker x Stark!reader (platonic)

Request:

Hello i love your story could you do angsty tony x daughter reader. Wherein the reader has a twin brother and Tony and the avengers prefer the twin brother and becaus of that, the reader became rebel and badass. She always getting trouble and almost drop out student. The avengers and her father were seem disappointed and dont know what to do. Not until the reader involve into car accident and she's critical injured. The reader also slipped to coma. Everyone is devastated about the reader conditione. And they realized that the reader only rebel because she wants to get attention from them. It depends to you what the end come, I just want a full angst this week and I hope you dont mind my English. Anyway I hope your alright.

A/n: y’all wanted it, I finished it :)

Word count: 3,984

(more notes at the end!)

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort? bad writing of an anxiety attack, accident, knife, hospitals

read it on ao3!

gif not mine! credits to the owner^^

Being a genius/billionaire/superhero’s kid doesn’t always sound nice like it usually does.

You were one of the Stark twins, the other half being your brother, Ethan.

The both of you showed signs that you inherited the commonly known Stark trait (intelligence) at a young age. But Tony mostly focused on his son, showing him all his inventions and gadgets, teaching him everything he knew while you on the other hand, were being babysat by Happy or Pepper, sometimes Rhodey.

You tried so hard to get your father’s attention but he always had his excuses:

“I don’t have time for that.”

“I’m busy with Ethan right now.”

“Maybe later.”

At first you didn’t mind if your brother got all the praise and attention. It wasn’t until your mid-teens that you really started to feel left out and ignored.

You were left to frown when the other Avengers never found anything interesting about you, just like Tony did. They all liked Ethan better. The topic of him being the next Iron Man when Tony retires is getting exhausting.

There was this one time when Tony announced that they were all going out to dinner since Ethan got, yet again, a full set of A’s on his report card.

“Did you get my card?” You tapped on Tony’s shoulder lightly.

He gave you a side glance, “ah shoot, I forgot. I’ll go get it tomorrow.” Then returned his attention to your brother.

But he ended up forgetting again the next day and you had to convince your teacher to give it to you instead. Your marks had A’s, but littered with B’s as well, of course that was no match for your brother’s perfect marks.

And that sort of scenario wasn’t just a one time thing, Tony forgets to pick up your report card every. single. time. The messed up part was you and Ethan literally attended the same school, he was just in a more advanced class than you.

As time passed, Tony went from ignoring you to getting annoyed and pissed at you for everything you did. In his eyes, you were always in the wrong. And the reason? You didn’t know.

“Dad? Can I borrow Bruce for a minute?” You knocked on the glass door of his lab to get him to look up.

He didn’t, but responded, “kinda busy with him right now.”

You looked at your fractured arm, regretting your decisions. “W-well, Ethan was training with Nat, and... and he wanted to try the new moves he learned on me. He went a little hard and - I think my arm’s broken, I just wanted Bruce to check it out-”

“Goddammit!” He shouted after you heard a glass shatter. Bruce covered his face with palms, muttering an ‘oh no’.

Tony glared at you, striding to where you were standing. All that was left for you to do was to brace yourself for what was about to come. “See, this is why we never let you do anything with the team,” he spat. “That right there?”-he pointed to your arm-“that’s on you. Things go wrong because you’re in the way!”

“I’m... I’m sorry-”

“Just get out of here.”

Your arm remained untreated after that.

Then Peter Parker came into the picture. Friendly guy, he was actually nice to you. Him and Ethan got along right away when Tony first recruited him. The fact that he treated Peter better than you made you even more miserable. It made you think he never wanted a daughter in the first place.

You first met Peter when he accidentally entered your room without warning, thinking it was the bathroom. Cliche, but that’s what happened.

“It’s on the first door to your other left,” you stated.

“Yeah, yeah okay, thanks,” he turned around to leave but stopped to look at you again. “I’m Peter Parker, by the way.”

“Y/N Stark.”

Peter’s eyes lit up at your last name. “I... I didn’t know Mr. Stark had a daughter - no offense! It’s just-”

You sighed and waved him off. He didn’t even notice the similarities you had with your twin. “It’s fine. I get that a lot.”

After many events of being, to be blunt, treated like shit, you finally had enough. You neglected your studies, only went to school when you felt like it (which was rare). No one cared your grades anyway, so what’s the point? You became a whole new person, you surrounded yourself with the wrong sort of people, causing you to dabble into smoking and alcohol.

Since you were always in trouble, you could recite Cap’s detention speech at school by heart now.

The principal of your school wanted to see Tony to talk about your behavior. Normally he’d make an excuse not to go if it wasn’t that important but he got flooded with messages from the school, so he couldn’t say no.

You had your legs crossed, sitting across from Tony who had his eyebrows furrowed as he listened to the principal. For some reason you didn’t feel nervous. “Y/N barely attends her classes. I’ve seen every attendance. Are you aware of this, Mr. Stark?”

Tony only maintained his usual relaxed posture and avoided your gaze.

“Some students have also seen her smoke in school grounds. We gave her a few weeks suspension for it, but it doesn’t look like she’s learned her lesson.” They pulled out a couple boxes of cigarettes from the desk drawer. “We found these in her locker.”

“You went into my locker?” You shot up from your seat. “You can’t just do that!”

Tony cleared his throat and got up, gripping your wrist. “I’ll take it from here - will that be all?”

On the way out he doesn’t say a word to you, only that his grip on your wrist got tight as you near the car.

“So,” he started the car. His voice was calm, but it screamed that you were in deep trouble. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

You sighed and slouched in the passenger’s seat, crossing your arms. “I’m... sorry you had to know...?”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna be honest with you here,” Tony still doesn’t look at you. “When I found out I had two kids, I got worried about Ethan.”

You let out a snort. Of course he would.

“I didn’t want him ending up like me. But surprise surprise, my daughter did instead.”

“I’m not ‘ending up’ like you, Dad-”

“Then what do you call - this,” he referred to you. “What, you’re just gonna waste your life, drop out of school? You’re a fucking mess, Y/N, and here I thought I raised you right. Sometimes I think: why can’t you just be like your brother?” He had a hard grip on the steering wheel as he drove, the way he spoke affected the speed of the car greatly.

You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t fine the exact words you wanted to say. “I... well, I’m sorry I’m not a goody two shoes like him!”

“That’s not what I-”

“Please, that’s exactly what you meant.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Look, I’m grounding you until you pull yourself together, understand?” And he did. He gave new orders to Friday when the both of you got home. You weren’t allowed to leave the compound without Tony’s permission.

Were you giving up that easily? Of course not.

You were on your laptop for the rest of the day, hacking into Friday’s system, the security to the elevator and the entrance. That night, your executed your plan and everything went smoothly.

“This is why you never underestimate me,” you sighed, deactivating the hack once you were out of the building.

Your friend who was picking you up was already waiting a few blocks away from the compound. “I hope you’re cool with me staying over for a couple days.”

“If a bunch of Avengers come and destroy my place to look for you, I’m not going to be friends with you anymore.”

You laughed at out, “oh trust me, they don’t care.”

----

The next day no one noticed your absence, nobody did for another two days. Tony just assumed you were mad about your punishment, so he didn’t think of it much.

Not until Peter came to the compound on the third day, wanting to hang out with you.

“Whatcha got there, Pete?” Ethan asked.

“Star Wars movies. I wanna watch them with Y/N - she could use some company, don’t you think?”

The older Stark twin shrugged, “yeah, I guess she could.”

Peter then headed to the elevator and stopped at the floor where your room was. He knocked on your door and waited a bit, after a few minutes of silence he knocked again, still nothing.

“Y/N? Is it okay if I come in?” He called out. No response. He hesitated a bit, for all he knew you were probably changing or something, or you could be in danger. He went to open the door anyway. “I’m coming in, I’ll close my eyes just to be-”

To Peter’s surprise, your room was empty.

----

You were at a 711 parking lot, waiting for your friends who were buying supplies for a house party. You gave them your wallet, not really caring about anything anymore. Your phone was starting to pile up with messages and missed calls from Tony, Edward and Peter, occasionally from the others as you scrolled pass more.

Without thinking you threw your phone to the ground, cracking the screen, breaking it completely. They’d be able to track you through it now that they know you ran away. You really had no intention of coming back. You weren’t wanted, what’s the point of going back?It’s early but you’ve had a few drinks already. You weren’t sure if breaking your phone was a good idea but there’s one thing you’re sure: you didn’t care anymore.

You didn’t have to turn your head to see who just arrived and ambushed your friends inside the store. They ran out and left you behind. The sound of webs coming out of his shooters was enough for you to tell.

“You shouldn’t be here, Peter,” you sighed defeatedly.

Peter gently took a seat next to you, not removing his mask since you were in public and handed your wallet back. “I don’t understand why you left.”

He took in your awful state. His suit scanned how intoxicated you were, estimated how many cigarette packets you’ve had. His frown deepened at the information.

“I care about you. We all do. Mr. Stark’s not going to stop the search party until you come home.”

You rolled your eyes at the term. “Stupid search party – pathetic – I’m not coming home anymore, Pete-” you slurred and tried to get up but stumbled back, almost twisting your ankle but fell to Peter’s side. “Ow.”

He sighed, struggling to get ahold of you since you always pulled away.

“Stop being so stubborn, okay?”

“If you don’t like my stubborn fucking ass then maybe you should just leave,” you stated. “I’m not wanted there. I got the message. I didn’t run away just to be fucking found.”

Peter stared at you for a moment. He didn’t know why you got grounded in the first place, how you got here and why you didn’t want to go back home. There was something off in the father-daughter relationship, he knew that, but it was news to him that it was that bad. That bad for you to waste your life, to run away. He always thought Mr. Stark was an awesome parent, the way he was treating Ethan, and him…

“It’s unfair,” you ranted. “God, if you only knew how pathetic I feel whenever he tells me off. I’m always annoying to him - not just to him, to the whole team, I’m always wrong in everything I do and it’s honestly tiring? What the fuck do I have to do just to feel loved and wanted?”

You went on rambling while Peter tried to comfort and deny every negative thing that came out of your mouth. He didn’t believe any of it, but the way everyone’s been treating you. He hated that he didn’t notice sooner. He could’ve defended you.

“I have nothing against you, I really don’t,” you sighed. “But you should be grateful they’re treating you perfectly.” You got up and strode to the opposite direction, mentally cursing because your friends ditched you and you has nowhere to go, phone destroyed and everything.

But you were staying true to your word: you didn’t have any plans to go back to the compound. You were going to figure your life out on your own.

“Y/N, I… I’m not leaving you alone out here!”

You were so fed up of the spider-ling. How good he was, how perfect, how Tony clearly wanted him more than you, how he always wanted to do the right thing, because none of you expected what happened next when he went to grab your shoulder. The action was so sudden that it Peter didn’t have time to avoid it.

Knife, shoulder, really deep.

Maybe it was just how wasted you were, because he knew you would never do anything like that.

“You’re really annoying, Parker,” you muttered, not wasting any more time watching him stumble out of shock and pain, sprinting across the streets.

With his uninjured arm, he shot webs while trying to pull the knife (the blade wasn’t even visible anymore on how deep it was) out of his shoulder. There was a loud bang, and Peter never sprinted so fast in his life, not caring less about the pain and blood, because what mattered most was your safety. When he got there, you were far from safe.

-----

A week went by. And during those seven days Tony was on edge, I mean, how can be calm at a time like that?

Peter managed to show up at the compound the same night, breathless and shaky. His state made everyone worried but he wasted no time telling Tony what happened. He got you to the hospital, making sure you were being sorted out right before leaving to break the news.

Tony didn’t think twice and went to the hospital where you were admitted, not listening to Peter’s apologies and leaving Steve to sort everyone out on what they should do.

They didn’t expect you to show signs of waking up after only a week since the accident got you mangled up, it was mostly a blow to the head and as expected, you slipped into a coma.

Right, what happened: an awful timing really, not sure if Peter’s the one to blame but he accidentally stuck you to the ground with his webs, and it just so happened a car was driving at a fast speed – there you go.

Tony made sure you got the best treatment possible. He even went and asked Strange if he could do all the surgeries needed, but he declined, claiming he couldn’t anymore despite the sympathy he felt inside. Instead he asked the best doctors he knew, but still helped out sometimes in any way he could.

You took a breath, trying to open your eyes but the blinding lights of your room and them almost feeling as if they were glued shut from not being open for so long prevented you. You also tried moving your hands, only to feel a warm one rest on top of it, you finally opened your eyes.

“You’re awake,” Tony mumbled, rubbing a thumb on the back of your palm soothingly. “You’re awake and you’re okay.”

“Mr. Stark?” Peter called out, spotting his mentor sitting outside the room where they were doing the final surgery on you. It was his first time visiting, seeing as the knife wound was worse than he thought. “I’m so sorry, I-“

“What happened?” Was the only thing Tony said, not looking up to look at the kid. Peter stood there for a moment but told him everything that happened.

After that and after he made sure you were okay, resting in your room and everything, he let Natasha look after you for the night and headed back to the compound.

The kid would never lie to him but he had to see it all for himself. The Spider-Man suit caught everything through the baby monitor protocol. From when he arrived to the convenient store, when you told him countless of times that you weren’t coming back, and when your drunk self ranted about what you felt.

“What the fuck do I have to do just to feel loved and wanted?”

“He seemed to like both of us equally when we were younger,” you sniffled. “Of course he would, but… my brother just turned out to be special and talented and,” you frowned, “he’s all Tony ever wanted for a kid. Maybe I reminded him of the chick he fucked, I don’t know – must be it, right?”

“Y/N, you’re just as special as-” Peter tried to reason but you threw him a glare. Tony could see the pain and heartbreak in your bloodshot, tired eyes. One that said you didn’t want to hear anything like it anymore. You didn’t want to believe it.

“The thing is, they only want you when you’re gone. Missing. Dead,” you shrugged. “I can take a hint, you know? My only family hates me. My only family doesn’t want me. Now you – all of them – are looking for me… why?” Peter flinched at the loudness of your voice. You truly were broken.

Tony fast forwarded, it didn’t clearly show how you got hit, but he had enough anyway. He wanted to make things right with you. He could only hope that you make pass this, hoping that you’ll let him make it up to you.

“It’s not too late, you know,” Steve said from the entrance to his lab. “Y/N is strong. She’ll make it.”

“Why am I not dead?” You croaked, looking at your father with an anxious expression. You letting out another shaky breath as you struggled to move and look around. “I should be dead. Why am I here-”

“Take it easy-”

“Don’t you understand?” You felt your throat aching, breath quickening. “I don’t want to be here!”

“No, you’re okay. Y/N you’re okay,” Tony tried to calm you down when he saw the lines in your heart monitor go up and down in rapid pace.

“I’m not - no I’m not - not okay,” you struggled to let out. It felt like you were choking on your own breath, getting harder and harder to breathe by the minute, soon tears started to prick your eyes. “I don’t want to be here!”

“Tony, what's going on?” Steve bursted into the room with an alarmed but calm expression.

“Call Strange. Anyone.” He told the captain but his eyes never left you. He rubbed a part of your arm that wasn’t injured soothingly in attempt to calm you down. “Just breathe for me, okay? I’m here and you’re okay.”

Something about the softness and encouraging look in his eyes made you nod eventually and follow his breathing patterns. He held a glass of water for you to drink, holding your struggling hand softly to get it out of the way.

He’s never looked at you like that before.

Most of the time he ignored you, most of the time he looked at you at anger or annoyance when you’ve fucked something up.

“There we go, we okay now?” You looked away and nodded lightly. That was enough for him. Tony wanted to let you know how sorry he was so bad, but thought against it, at least for now. He was scared you might start freaking out again.

Stephen entered the room with the doctor, the other Avengers following closely behind. The amount of people in the room overwhelmed you a bit, but you were strangely calm because of how your father’s acting. Soft and caring, it made you feel safe.

Both doctors concluded that you had some sort of amnesia. In English, your past memories were blotchy, all of them even from your childhood. Again because of the blow to the head it was already expected. But you remembered the recent ones clearly, which was the reason why you avoided looking at Peter and his patched up arm.

Which also meant it was possible you didn’t remember all of the pain you felt concerning your family. It was unfair on your part.

Strange insisted that you stay a few more days, or one more week, just to run tests and make sure you get enough medicine and stuff.

They decided to see how bad your memory loss was.

“I did that to you,” you still refused to look at Peter completely. “I’m sorry, Peter.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” Peter gave you a smile.

You moved to the next person. Red hair, seemed to give off a friendly but civil nature. “Natasha? You’re Natasha.”

The Russian merely smiled and crossed her arms.

“Steve,” you stated, moving to the next person. “You always read old books in the kitchen.”

Steve chuckled, nodding to confirm.

“Ethan,” you smiled as you looked at your twin. He gave you a small wave even if he felt as guilty as Tony about everything even if he wasn’t the one to blame.

You stared longer at the next person, almost shoulder length dark brown hair, he’s wearing a jacket to cover his metal arm but you knew it was still there.

“Ducky?”

Peter let out a giggle, so did you brother.

“It’s Bucky, doll,” Bucky smiled, covering his face with his hand to suppress a chuckle as the rest laughed.

“Oh, right, I’m sorry,” you let out a weak giggle yourself.

You meet Tony’s eyes again, the softness still there.

“Dad,” you stated. “You’re my dad. Tony.”

No, you didn’t completely forget how he treated you. You knew he was annoyed with you, which lead you to think that you did something that made him act that way. “Am I bad?”

Tony’s hopeful expression dimmed. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

You shrugged. “You’re mad at me, I just… I guess it’s just not clear on why.”

Steve thought it would be best for everyone to head out for a bit so he ushered everyone out of the room except for your brother who took a seat at the corner.

“About that, it’s about time we talked, yeah?” Tony sat on a chair backwards beside your bed. It made you nervous, but you were reassured. “You’re not in trouble, don’t worry.”

He exhaled, resting an arm on the top rail. “You deserve so much better. I should’ve treated you better,” you opened your mouth to ask but he continued. “Look, I haven’t been fair with you and it’s a problem. You’re smart, talented and beautiful. I figured you needed to hear it more often because it’s true. What I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry. I really am.”

Your bottom lip involuntarily trembled. “You – you really mean that?”

“From the bottom of my heart.”

You sighed, a genuine smile plastered on your face. “Thank you. And I’m sorry if I was a pain in the ass-“

“You never were,” Tony shook his head. “You always did your best and I really should have acknowledged it more. Give me a second chance?”

“Of course.”

Tony smiled, getting up and planting a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Everything in life was so much better after all that. Tony treated you and Ethan equally, same goes for Peter. The other Avengers were nicer, not the kind of nice that was almost fake, but it was genuine. All of them were. And you were thankful.

----

TAGLIST: @contanto-que-voce-me-queira @angeldreineedshelp @legendarymcnuggies @zoeyserpentluck @vienmiaprendere @alainabooks143 @hessogxlden

DID ANYONE MISS ME? BC I MISSED THIS PLACE

I highly doubt anyone’s still waiting for this, it was an unplanned hiatus I’M SO SORRY but I decided to post anyway :))

also I hope this wasn’t underwhelming, that’s one of the reasons why I was hesitant to do this but I hope its good heh (I’ve included the parts from my first post as well, just so it feels like a full fic)

WAIT I ALSO HIT 300 FOLLOWERS? INSANE. THANK YOU. I MEAN IT.

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cabinofimagines · 3 years

Note

can i request a poly! lercy fic where percy doesn't know(or completely forgets) that aluminum foil shouldn't go in the microwave, y/n doesn't pay any mind to it cause they don't realize it's not supposed to be microwaved, and then all hell breaks loose, so leo comes home to a basically melted microwave and percy & y/n rubbing burn cream on each other while they're murmuring stuff like 'why does it hurt so much!' 'you'd think with leo, we'd be used to it by now.' thank you!

Everyone SHUT UP I have to give you some Leo appreciation after the angsty shit Asja wrote -Danny

Sleep Deprived —(Poly!Lercy xGN!reader)

“I’m so tired I just want to fall flat on the bed and sleep for the next week,” Percy grumbles beside you.

It was the end of the semester of your first year in college, both of you were basically dead inside with the amount of nights spent finishing assignments and studying for tests.

You’re focused on finishing your bowl of cereal while Percy opens a box of something, you weren’t paying enough attention to see what he was about to put in the microwave.

“I can’t remember the last time I actually felt well rested,” You mumble.

“Makes you wonder how Leo can keep up with his schedule without fallin apart, huh?” The soft sound of the microwaves’ buttons accompany his comment.

“Probably his ADHD, I don’t understand why you’re falling apart though,” You raise a brow.

“Well, I’m not a son of Hephaestus—”

“Which is great, otherwise you and Leo dating would be gross as fuck—”

“So probably my brain function on a different level than Leo’s...”

“Everyone’s brain works on a different level than Leo’s,” You yawn. “He’s so freaking smart—that bastard.”

Percy presses the start button, almost immediately something starts hissing inside the machine and a loud bang sends you out of your chair. When you stand up the microwave is in flames and Percy has a very ugly burn on his arm.

“What the fuck—!”

You circle the counter and look around for the fire extinguiser, once you find it you push Percy out of the way and unlock the tool, showering the machine with its white substance.

“What the hell did you put in there, Percy?” You ask in shock.

“I-It was a burrito! You know, from the ones Leo bought yesterday?”

“Did you make sure to take off the foil before putting it in there?”

Percy blinks, he lowers his gaze to the messed up microwave and a grimace quickly forms on his features.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I wasn’t paying attention...”

“Don’t apologize, you’re the one who got hurt!” You shake your head. “Where’s the ointment?”

“Gotta be under the sink,” Percy hisses when trying to touch his burned arm. “You know, it’s sort of insulting, as the son of Poseidon, to get burned by an inanimated object that I own.”

The front door swungs open to reveal one happy Leo Valdez, he’s humming whatever song he’s listening through his earphones, he hasn’t noticed the mess in the kitchen since his back is turned to his boyfriend but the smell is so strong he notices after five seconds.

“Hey, what are you cooking?” He scrunches up his nose. “Guys?”

Leo sees Percy’s injured arm and he messily drops his backpack on the entrance before rushing over to him.

“What happened?” He looks at the kitchen and his frown deepens. “Did you fight with our microwave?”

“I put a burriton in it without taking the stupid foil,” Percy groans.

You walk into the room once more holding a small tube of ointment.

“Don’t move, I’ve got you—Oh, hi Leo!”

You kiss him shortly before starting to rub the cream on Percy’s forearm.

“How was work?”

“Fun. But not as crazy as whatever the hell just happened in here five minutes ago,” He leans back against the counter. “Do I have to set up cameras inside the house to make sure you don’t kill yourselves on accident? This is like the third fire you guys start this week!”

“We’re just a little tired.”

“A little?” Leo asks teasingly.

“You should be kissing the pain away from my body instead of making fun of us!” Percy demands. “If you got no useful advice then please leave the room so Y/N can take care of me.”

“You’re a spoiled child,” You reply, although your tone is sweet.

“Hey, I never said that!” Leo pouts, he quickly pushes you aside playfully and plants a firm kiss on Percy’s lips.

The older boy smirks against Leo’s mouth and happily reciprocates. You finish your work on Percy’s arm and put the ointment away, looking at the microwave with a tired expression.

“First the coffee maker, now this,” You sigh. “We have no money to buy a new one, what are we going to do?”

“I could ask my dad to build us one,” Leo offers, he moves away from Percy and ignores his complaint.

“Isn’t he busy with—dunno, God stuff?”

“I’m sure it’ll take him like five minutes to make one, and I bet it’ll be cooler than any of those mortal versions.”

“Okay, you sure can try to convince him,” You snort. “In the meantime, we should keep Percy away from the kitchen until he finishes finals week.”

“I would fight against it, but I honestly don’t trust myself now,” Percy replies, his weariness slowly coming back to his body. “I’m still hungry though...”

“Oh, I brought you doughnuts!” Leo grins. “They’re in my backpack, you can take the bag if you want.”

“I love you so much,” Percy sighs in bliss, standing up and walking directly to the backack Leo has abandoned at the front door.

“Love you too,” Leo beams, his head turns to the side as he sees you clean the mess your boyfriend caused without meaning to. “And we also love you, Y/N. Thank you for looking after Mr Trainwreck.”

“It’s my pleasure,” You grin.

Leo opens his arms and silently waits for you to get closer, you don’t keep him waiting for long.

Taglist.

@beneaththeiceandsnow @lovinghufflepuffgirl @diaphragmjellyfish

#Danny's writing #poly!lercy #pjo imagine #lercy #hoo imagines #leo valdez x percy jackson #leo valdez x reader #percy jackson x reader #poly fic

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333sth · 3 years

Text

dove. (frankie morales)

chapter ii. previous. series masterlist.

pairing: frankie morales x ofc (’dove’) no use of y/n

warnings: ptsd/military service, violence, injury detail, language, angsty.

summary: santi’s hunch is no longer a hunch, but only will knows how close they are to finding frankie’s girl.

rating: mature wc: 1.8k

When a strong hand had clamped around her shoulder, Dove’s instinct was to break it. It wasn’t menacing; they were just waiting at the bar to be served.

A burly, middle-aged man was towering beside her, clutching a beer bottle that looked miniature in his thick grasp. His arms, still holding the shadow of what was once impressive muscle, were littered with military tattoos. Dove could spot a stick-and-poke from a mile off.

“I recognise that,” He gestures to her neck, where a small Delta Force tattoo was usually disguised by her long hair. “You ex-forces? Delta?”

She wanted to kick herself. The sticky atmosphere had gotten the better of her and she’d thrown her hair into a ponytail without thinking.

“Yeah, but that isn’t exactly public knowledge ‘round here.” She murmurs.

Across the room, Roni throws her head back in exaggerated laughter. A group of men, who looked barely out of their teen years, had come over to make some desperate attempts at getting laid. Dove had excused herself to buy the next round after one of them had cracked a mortifying joke about liking older women.

“That’s understandable.” The man held out his hand, which she took hesitantly. “My name’s Mark, I just retired out here. Served for twenty three years.” He chuckled gruffly, his voice thick from cigarettes. “I got jack shit to show for it, mind you.”

“Tell me about it.” She laughs, but she doesn’t offer her name.

Mark notices as the conversation lulls. “I trained with a guy who made Delta. Santiago Garcia - we called him Pope, ‘cause he just had that way about him. You probably knew him.”

Dove swallows, chest lurching. “Sounds familiar… You know how it is though, the nicknames all blur into one eventually.”

That’s a lie, you never forget your teammates’ names. Mark knows it and so does Dove. Thankfully, he doesn’t push a conversation she clearly doesn’t want to have, and raises his bottle to her.

“Well, it was nice to meet you anyway. Enjoy yourself out here.”

“You too, Mark.” She tries to smile, but her lips press into a thin line that probably looks more like a grimace.

Mark had called Santiago the following day, the alcohol-blurred memory peaking his interest once he remembered his old friend’s plea a few months back. He’d asked around for any heads-up if any ex-Delta women around their age popped up. Mark had thought the man was delusional when he’d heard. If she was Delta Force, she wouldn’t be found unless she wanted to be.

Apparently, he was wrong. Maybe even the best of the best got rusty after a while.

The town Dove had been spotted in was questionable to Santiago. It was too cosmopolitan for a woman who was starting over. However, after a onceover on a map of Mexico, Santi spotted its smaller neighbour. He’d never heard of it, which meant it must be the place. Small population, right on the coast, with enough amenities and business to get by without any trouble.

“And, man, she had a wicked scar on her throat. Sort of shit you’d only see on a Delta.” Mark had added, with a chuckle. “I can’t imagine that ain’t your girl.”

‘Dove isn’t my girl,’ Santi wanted to bite back instinctually. He bit his tongue, and instead offered, “It sounds like her. I can’t thank you enough, brother.”

Santiago only told Will what he knew about Dove. He had the mind to retain that information no matter what this trip threw at them. Plus, he trusted him with his life, plus a couple other lives that came to mind. Call it insurance, if things went south.

Plus, Will didn’t have Tom’s mouth, or twisted morality. Tom was more than willing to accept that Dove would miss out on their prospective fortune, that the ‘hunch’ would have to wait until Lorea was dealt with. Santiago knew his brothers well enough to know Benny would throw a hissy fit if they knew where Dove was and she wasn’t included. She’d spent enough time stitching up their war-torn skin and shoving them out of bullets to deserve a cut.

So, Pope told a little white lie. They had a stop in Mexico to meet with a contact.

Frankie had murmured, “Better be worth it, stuck in this shitty car with you fuckers for ten hours.”

Santiago resisted the urge to agree. God, he hoped it would be worth it too. He hoped he wasn’t driving them into a dead end, a bluff on Mark’s part. Or even worse, invading Dove’s beautiful new life without them. That would destroy everything; Dove, the boys, Frankie. What if she had settled down? What if he pulled into that idyllic beach bar she wanted and she’s there, a baby with the same brilliant eyes balanced on her hip? She was never sure about kids. A vivid mental picture of the wrong diamond, glistening on her ring finger in the afternoon sun, and the wrong man pecking her lips, made Santi physically wince.

Fish would never forgive him. Will and Benny would never forgive him. He’d never forgive himself.

It was a long, apprehensive drive. Santi’s eyes were drying, squinting against the headlights that occasionally glared past them. His jaw had been clenched for the last few hours as his anxiety grew, nothing but open road to stare at while he contemplated over and over as to whether it was the right decision. It didn’t help that Frankie never really slept like the others did on the move. While the other boys passed out, Frankie’s soft eyes continued scanning the scene flying past the window. It was like he stayed awake to watch Pope’s back, as if they were still in combat, or as an unspoken act of kindness to keep him company.

Really, Frankie was a terrible sleeper. Santi remembered that from the early days, before he and Dove gave it up and became an item. He was the last to drift off and first to wake up, always restless. Once Dove started tip-toeing over to his cot in the night, he became the worst snorer in the division. Always splayed on his front, one arm tossed over Dove’s waist and the other under his pillow. She’d kick him in the night so he’d roll over and shut up, but it never lasted long.

One night, Benny had enough, and groaned to Dove, “Put us out of our fuckin’ misery and smother him with your pillow, for the love of God.”

Dove had snapped back, “Fuck off, Benny, just ‘cause you aren’t getting any of the action doesn’t mean you have to get all bitter.”

“I’ve told you guys - I’m more than willing to join in-”

“Ben.” Frankie grumbled into her shoulder. It was gruff with sleep but still menacing enough to make the hairs on Dove’s arms stand on end.

Before a pillow smacked into his head, Benny guffawed, “Oh, so he is alive after all.”

Wringing a soft rag for polishing glasses between her fingertips, Dove descends the wooden steps at the entrance of the bar. The last huddle of regulars holler behind her, wrapping up their weekend drinks as the evening creeps closer to the early hours; Dove always notices the time when moths start colliding with the lanterns.

Roni rises from a crouch on the ground, dropping a paintbrush into a can with a clatter. “See, your own little touch!”

The wooden panels that constructed the side of the bar, usually concealed by a stack of cardboard beer boxes, is decorated with little doves. Despite studying criminology, mainly for the satisfaction of her parents, Roni loved painting and insisted on brightening the exterior of their beach shack.

Dove cracks a half-smile. “It’s lovely, Ron. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” She beams, throwing the half-empty cans into the nearby bins. She pauses, glancing hesitantly at the older woman over her shoulder, “Dove’s not your real name, right?”

“No, no. Nickname from when I was nursing overseas.” Dove chuckles, before adding, “Feels more like my real name than my Christian one nowadays.”

Roni passes Dove on the steps as she returns to the bar, “It suits you. You’re always graceful, but… you’re fucking fast.”

Dove laughs with her, ignoring the familiar clench in her chest. It’s exactly what Frankie used to say. The difference is Roni notices when she almost drops a glass, or her tray of drinks starts to wobble, and Dove is there to catch it with such fluidity Roni never saw her coming. Even the way Dove’s knife slices through fruit like each piece is a slab of melted butter. Frankie witnessed the extreme of that, the stealth and grace that usually ensured the enemy was dead before the others had even thought to raise their guns. Still, he admired her the same way Roni was right now. It was like awe.

It’s probably because he loved her effortlessly, every single aspect of her being without a glimmer of doubt or judgement. And now he wasn’t here.

The group of regulars stumbling down the steps break Dove from her thoughts, chortling and wishing her goodnight. One of the older men turns and jerks his thumb towards the road, “You might wanna tell them you’re closing, bonita.”

Before the road becomes the sand, there is a small, dusty wasteland that doubles as a makeshift car park. A vehicle is parked, glaring headlights facing towards the ocean and forming peculiar, alien-like beams in the dark. She’s definitely getting rusty; she’d barely registered the idling truck.

“I’ll sort ‘em out, Miguel, don’t you worry.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” He jokes, waving to her. “Buenos noches, Dove.”

Military habits are practically impossible to shake, and immediately, Dove’s mind launches into overdrive. She raises her hand above her eyes, squinting against the blinding white LEDs in an attempt to make out a registration plate or even a recognisable model. Her mind is fine-tuned to memorise; most of the locals’ cars are already catalogued in her memory, but this isn’t one of them.

Maybe they’re tourists, ready to push their luck with the opening times. That’s the reasonable side of Dove’s mind. The irrational, dark edges whisper, ‘What if someone found you?’ By someone, it means someone bad. Someone she wronged during her service, an enemy or straggler that got away. Even a civilian that might have been caught in the crossfire. She thought about those ghosts often. Hell, some of them she could still name. When she can’t sleep, sometimes she lists them, pictures their faces if she can recall them, just in case they ever came back.

She inhales a sharp gust of ocean air through her nostrils, welcoming the clarity that spreads through her mind. Parting her lips (the lips Frankie always teased were in a permanent pout), she released the breath slowly, trying to relax the stressed scrunch in her features.

“Your face is gonna get stuck like that someday.”

The voice is familiar. A deep, breathy chuckle, barrel-toned and gravelly. It sounds like home.

taglist: @mishasminion360

#frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie x reader #triple frontier imagine #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier fic #frankie morales x ofc #dove #Santiago Garcia #Benny Miller #Will Miller #pedro pascal #frankie morales imagine #frankie morales fic #francisco morales #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal characters

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hoodharlow · 3 years

Text

Holiday Surprise

El Novio Quarantine Edition: Part 7

AN: Quick reminded in Song of the Year I previously said that Claudia was 20 weeks pregnant, but bc I want them to have a Taurus baby I moved pushed everything by 4 weeks. So in this part she's now 20 weeks pregnant and in SoG she's 16 weeks pregnant. Also tyy to @wastelandcth for letting me run ideas with her ilysm Gemma

Requested? No

Warnings: overall fluff with an angsty ending, briefly jealous!Cal, pre-sex (no smut!), Mitchy, mentions of violence, an argument bc someone can't follow basic CDC guidelines and went out to party, and talks about deathtolls/covid cases

Word Count: 5.9k words

Claudia waited for the nurse to print her a few copies of her ultrasound. Christmas was in three days. Since her and Calum were staying at his house for Christmas, they decided on sending out care packages to their families. In the boxes they planned on having envelopes with their Christmas card and a picture of the newest member of the Hood-Santos family. But that they should wait to open them together via Zoom because Calum and Claudia were going to find out the sex of their baby.

They had made a compromise. If baby's sex is female then Calum is naming them because the Hoods' firstborns are always female. Whereas in Claudia's family the Santos always have male firstborns so if the baby is male, she is naming them.

They were nervous. This was the biggest secret both of them have ever kept from their parents. Claudia felt queasy just thinking about how her parents were going to react, especially her parents. She doesn't want to disappoint them.

Sure Diego and Soni, and her brothers started their families at a young age, but there was an underlying pressure for Claudia. She was the only girl and the first in her family to graduate from a four year college, her mom had gone to community college and studied fashion merchandising. Her parents hadn't said it outloud, but she knew that it was expected of her to have a career before even thinking about settling down to start a family. She was supposed to get her master's then teach for a few years before moving her way up to school administration. Getting pregnant just during her first year of grad school was not the plan she and her parents had.

"All set." the nurse said, handing Claudia the envelopes.

"Thank you. Hope you enjoy the cookies and happy holidays." Claudia said, stuffing them in her bag.

She pumped some hand sanitizer before she exited the doctor's office. She pulled Calum's flannel tighter and made her way to the car where he was waiting. He got out and helped her up.

Claudia clicked her seatbelt and turned to Calum. "Can't you drop me off at your house and you go down to see my parents?" she asked.

"No you're going with me. I'm out of excuses." He said. He squeezed her hand, reassuringly before he backed out of the parking spot. "We're just going to drop off their box and say hi. After that we'll get hotdogs under the bridge at that place you like."

"Fine." she sighed, giving in. The things she did for some hotdogs from Barrio Dogs down in Chicano Park.

On their way to the post office, Claudia finished up packing the boxes. Once they arrived, Calum helped her seal them with packing tape before he took them inside to get mailed out. While she waited for him, Claudia texted her mom that she and Calum were going down to leave them a box for them to open on Christmas Eve.

She rubbed her stomach. She was almost twenty weeks pregnant and still couldn't believe it. It feels like just last week Danny had come over to fight the cat and accidentally found her pregnancy tests on the bathroom sink. Which was why she was nervous to go over to her parents. One look at her and they would know Calum got her pregnant. Luckily for her with Calum's big t-shirt and his zip up jacket that she packed, she was able to mask her growing belly.

She shifted in her seat, trying to get somewhat comfortable when Calum unlocked the car to get in. He squeezed her hand and rubbed her belly. He passed her his phone so she could play some music as he pulled out of the parking lot. She played EL ÚLTIMO TOUR DEL MUNDO, and quietly gushed to her belly that Calum helped Bad Bunny produce the album and that he played all of the instruments in Yo Visto Asi.

She reached for the pillows she had in the backseat; as best she could she curled up. Claudia spent the whole night baking. She needed something to keep out of her mind while she waited for final grades to be posted. She knew she did good, but the waiting is what got to her.

When she first started grad school, she made a vow to be a fast grader and to have a good grading system. That way her students would know what their grades were in real time. She even managed to get everything graded for her classes the day her students turned in their finals. Unlike half of her professors who haven't updated grades since Thanksgiving.

Her eyes fluttered closed and began dozing off, with help from Calum who played with her hair. He gently shook her shoulder, waking Claudia from a nap that felt like only five.

"We're here." he whispered, kissing her cheek.

"No, I just fell asleep." Claudia whined.

"C'mon," he said, kissing her.

He got out and grabbed the last box left. He stopped by Junior's house first. Though while he was there Damian overheard him and Junior talk about Claudia and her pregnancy. Calum just hoped that Damian kept his pinky promise and wouldn't tell anyone.

Claudia waited for Calum to make his way up the steps before changing into his t-shirt and zip up hoodie. She kept the thin long sleeve top and layered his shirt over it. She got out and grabbed the hoodie, putting it on as she went up the steps.

Calum slammed the front door, looking pale as if he saw a ghost.

"I just saw your dad's ass." He shuddered. "Didn't know he was the type to get an ass tattoo."

"How long did you look at his ass?— you know what, I don't wanna know." Claudia said, lifting her hands up in surrender.

A minute or so later, Diego opened the door, buckling his belt. "Do you know how to knock?" He scolded Calum.

"You didn't knock?" Claudia asked him, awkwardly hugging her dad.

"I did, but I used your key to get in since they didn't open." Calum explained. He held up his UCLA lanyard out to them. Claudia's San Diego Chargers key stood out against all the other silver ones.

"Now that that's sorted, can we go in? Tengo frío." Claudia said.

Diego took a step back and let them in. He motioned them to the kitchen where Soni made a pitcher of agua de nanche. She set down the ladle and went to greet Calum and Claudia.

"Can I have some?" Claudia asked her mom.

"Agua de nanche?" Soni gave Claudia a confused look. In the twenty-two years she's known her daughter, she never willingly asked for agua de nanche. She placed her hand on Claudia's forehead. "Are you okay?"

She giggled nervously, hugging herself. "Ay ama. It's just a little craving I have."

"A craving?"

"Yeah… craving."

***

Calum still couldn't wrap it around his head that Claudia's pregnancy made her eat pickles. She absolutely dreaded them before. One time, before the pandemic, they went out to a burger place and she sent back her burger because she tasted the pickles in the bottom bun. She could tell that they took them out before bringing it to her. Now seeing her pregnant and scarfing them down was something that left him both surprised and confused.

"Claudia?" a voice called behind Calum.

"Oh my god, Luis!" Claudia squealed excitedly.

When the guy approached their table, Calum felt like he had seen the guy before. He just couldn't remember where he saw him.

"Cal, this Felix' brother, Luis. He's the one who's mine and Danny's age." Claudia explained.

Calum smiled politely and introduced himself. He sat back and watched them talk. Luis leaned closer to Claudia, laughing at whatever bad joke she said. He noticed her voice slightly went higher.

It was her 'I'm not really flirting, but oh shit you're hot as fuck' voice. She used to use that voice before they became an official iten. The last time she used it was when they were at lunch with the guys, their old producer friend named Jon and Tyler Posey. On the drive home, she went on and on about how Tyler Posey was the sweetest and funniest guy ever. It drove Calum mad.

"It was nice seeing you, Claudia, but my friends are waiting." Luis said, making Calum smile.

"Same, and congrats on getting into med school. I saw Profe's post the other week." Claudia smiled.

"I find it weird you call my mom Profe." He teased.

"It was an old habit." She laughed. She turned to Calum. "We should go right? With traffic and all."

He nodded. "I'm going to pay and bring the car over." Calum got up and nodded to Luis. "It was nice meeting you."

"Back at you." Luis said leaving to his table without telling Claudia goodbye.

Calum helped her up and hand in hand they went to the booth to pay. He signed the receipt and dripped a very generous tip in the tip jar.

After thorough convincing, Claudia waited for Calum as he jaywalked and went to get his car from the public parking lot. She replied to a series of messages from Danny asking why she drank agua de nanche and that Luis texted him telling him he just ran into her and that she looked pregnant. She gave him a vague response and put her phone on silent. After eating three hotdogs and a side mac and cheese, the last thing she wanted was to answer more messages from Danny.

Calum pulled up in front of her and got out of his side to help her in. It was more of him standing back and being there in case she fell, so she'd fall into him, breaking her fall. Once she was in he circled back and got in.

He missed the street that took them to the I5 and now had to drive a bit further to get on the I15. Just before he got off the ramp, Claudia's soft snores filled the car. He pressed a few buttons and made her seat lean back. With one hand Calum moved her so she was laying on her side. As best he could, he placed the pillows around her back and stomach.

The drive went by quickly. Calum got off the freeway and started driving through the streets. His phone began to ring. Ashton's face lit up his phone screen. It must be about their management. Calum had asked him to call him once everything was sorted with their lawyers and teams. He connected it to the car and answered.

"Hey, mate, I'm driving right now. Claudia and I are almost home. Call you in a bit." Calum said before Ashton got a word in.

He hung up as Claudia stirred awake. She groaned and shifted in her seat.

"I have to pee." she said.

"We'll be home in about five minutes. Can you hold it?" He asked her, intertwining his fingers with hers.

"Yeah," she said, stifling her yawn. Claudia rushed out and went to the guest bathroom when they arrived. Calum took advantage and returned Ashton's call.

"Claudia, I'm going to be in my office if you need me," he called.

"I might be in here a while, those hotdogs didn't agree with me." she murmured.

"There's an air freshener in the sink." Calumteased.

He greeted Duke and Cherry as he made his way to his office. Ashton answered and went off in a tangent about a melody that was stuck in his head. He paced around, agreeing and humming in response as Ashton went on and on. Calum didn't want to cut him off and ask about their contract, so he listened.

"...so I talked to Renee Hastings, that lawyer that does a lot of work on this and she said that she can get us out of our contract. She even has—”

“Are you serious?” Calum asked, cutting him off.

He desperately wanted and needed to get out of their contract with their management. Especially with what they’re asking him to do. There’s no way he’s going to do what they want.

"Yeah, everything is going to be finalized in the next few weeks." Ashton went on. "I'm glad we're out. Even more so that you won't have to… you know."

"It's a relief honestly. I can just focus on music and raising my baby with Claudia." He sighed. He reached for a small picture frame of him and Claudia from when they went hiking at some waterfall they accidentally found while out hiking.

"Speaking of baby, do you know their sex? I have compiled a list of names. Of course, my top five are Ashley, Asher, Ashton, Ashe, and Ashlyn on said list, but I found some other names." Ashton said, earning a snort from Calum.

He set the picture frame down and chuckled as Ashton listed more names. He spotted the new contract their old team had made for him. He grabbed it and stored it in a drawer under a package of printer paper. Calum caught Claudia's shadow as she waddled past his office, making her way to the kitchen.

"Hey, I gotta go. Claudia just scurried past my office so I have to hide her hot chips or she's going to complain all night that she has heartburn.

Ashton chuckled at his comment. They bid each other goodbye and agreed that he was taking Calum to the studio in a few days after spending the holidays in the snow with KayKay and Penny.

Calum went out to the kitchen and found it empty. But there was a stool in front of the cabinet where Calum hid Claudia's Turbo Flamas and Takis. The two large chip bags were missing.

He cursed and searched around the house for her. He found her once more in the kitchen sipping on a Hi-C pink lemonade juice box while she watched her frozen Italian style meatballs heat up in the microwave.

"How many times do I have to ask you to not climb on stool to reach for things? You're already clumsy as is, Claudia." He scolded.

"I didn't use the stool. I was going to, but I didn't see my chips." Claudia explained. She got up and grabbed her plate. "So now I'm gonna shove some balls in my mouth."

"I have some you might like more."

Claudia gave him a glance over. She didn't get it. She was almost twenty weeks pregnant and somehow Calum's cock was as hard as the kitchen's marble counters. Did it have to do with the fact that she only wore his flannel and some panties? Yes, it still surprised her that she had that effect on him.

She bit into one of her meatballs and watched him. Once she swallowed, she walked up to him and gently patted his hard on. "And they say pregnant women are the super horny ones."

***

Christmas Eve rolled around a few days later. Calum spent the better part of the morning at the studio with Luke and Michael then he spent the afternoon driving around dropping off and picking up things for their little Christmas celebration. Claudia baked and made sure their house was ready. Danny, Medelyn and Sebastian were coming over to their house since Claudia and her brothers divided which holidays they spent with their parents. Danny got thanksgiving, Junior got Christmas and Claudia got left with New Year's.

Calum entered the house and his nose was filled with the smell of warm gingerbread cookies and the tamales Soni had given them when they visited. He quickly rushed to the guest room and changed into some clean clothes. With Claudia being pregnant they knew that she was more at risk of exposure, so they took extra precautions for her to be safe. He took his clothes to the laundry room for a quick wash.

He went to the kitchen and was surprised it was empty. Calum was sure he was going to find Claudia decorating some cookies or baking some elaborate pastry she couldn't pronounce. He found their dogs in the living room intently watching 102 Dalmatians. They didn't even notice him when he arrived.

Calum jogged upstairs and heard a faint buzzing sound in their bedroom. He knocked a few times so she could let him in. Other times he would have sneaked in and playfully scold her that she knew better than to get started without him. That usually led to him telling to keep going until she was very sensitive then he'd go down on her and do other things to her that they both enjoy. But with a human growing inside of her, Claudia has gotten a bit self conscious about her body.

He knocked a few more times and there still wasn't a response. He opened the door and found her naked in a sitting position. She was fast asleep with her vibrator in her hand.

Calum took the vibrator, turning it off, he cleaned it and stored it in her drawer with her other toys. He fixed her pillows and slowly moved her into a more comfortable position. He covered her with her Snoopy blanket and smoothed her hair out. He kissed her forehead and let her sleep.

He went back down and worked in his office. Now that the band was without any management and team, they had a lot of paperwork to prove that they were management-less. Once he was done with the paperwork he decided to do some in depth investigation[long cash]lurking— on the lawyer that helped them get out of their contract. All he knew about her was that one of Michael's best men gave him her number because she was well known in the NFL among the wives of the NFL players. He looked her up on Google and it showed that she is married to a retired NFL player who she had three children with, one son and two daughters. Her husband played for the San Diego Chargers until the team moved to Los Angeles where he went and played for the 49ers. He had retired just last year. In his rabbit hole investigation he ended up on Renee's Instagram page. He was about four years deep when he saw a familiar face. Claudia.

She was posing with, who Calum assumed was, that Isaiah guy. He had his arm around Claudia's shoulders while one of her hands was on his chest. They both had big smiles.

Calum scrolled down and read the caption. Noting that Isaiah's @ was in the caption, he clicked it. He cursed when he saw that his account was private. He went back to Renee's and kept scrolling. He saw more and more of Claudia. From school fundraisers to family barbecues, Claudia and her family were there.

It hurt him, not in 'she looked so happy with him' but more of how he knew their families can't have that relationship. Mostly because Calum's family lived on the other side of the Pacific Ocean. They couldn't just arrange to meet up for a barbecue or a dinner. There was so much to plan just for them to be in the same place. And with the ongoing pandemic, it made things rough for them.

Calum and Claudia's parents briefly met via Zoom when Joy and David thanked Soni and Diego for taking Calum in. After that there were quick Zoom calls or just Calum or Claudia passing along their parents' regards to the other. The more Calum thought about it, his parents had better relationships with Diego and Soni than Marlene and Medelyn's parents. From what Claudia told him, Marlene's parents kicked her out when she was sixteen after finding out she was a few months pregnant with Guito. Diego and Soni stepped in and took her in. Her parents eventually came around, but according to Claudia, the tension is very present whenever there's a family party and Marlene's parents attend. But it's much better than Medelyn's parents. He witnessed first-hand how her parents want nothing to do with her or the Santos family.

"Hey, you okay?" Claudia asked him, bringing him back from his thoughts. "I knocked a few times and you didn't answer."

"Ye-yeah, I'm good." He said. He motioned her to come in. She took a seat in front of Calum.

In other circumstances, he would have dropped to his knees, but those circumstances are probably why Claudia was pregnant.

Calum pushed her t-shirt and gently kissed her belly. "How are my babies?" he asked before blowing raspberries into her belly.

"We are good." Claudia gently patted her belly. "This one was in the mood for tamales."

"What time are they showing up?" He asked.

"In like two hours. I'm so hungry." She fake cried.

"The lighting is good right here." Calum noted, ignoring her hunger comment. He unlocked his phone, accidentally revealing to her that he was lurking. He exited the app and looked for the camera icon. He quickly took a few pictures of him with Claudia's belly. He passed his phone to her and let her see the pictures.

"You think showing me cute pictures of my belly is gonna distract me from the fact that I saw my ex's mom on your phone?" She asked as a matter of factly.

"Kinda?" He laughed nervously. He sat back and ran his hand over her thighs. "Now that I got you here. I have something to talk to you about that involves her."

"Oh?"

"You know how we dropped our album and that our management fucked up the release, making us debut a week early and all that?" He asked her. She nodded in response. She remembered clearly tweeting Billboard and cursing them out. Calum took her hands and intertwined her fingers with his. "Well we decided to part ways with them. Thanks to Renee, we got out of our contract drama free. So now we have more freedom with our music and lives."

"Oh my god! I'm so happy for you and the guys!" Claudia smiled. She carefully hopped off the desk and sat on Calum's lap. "Mrs. Hastings is such a badass. I'm glad she was able to help y'all."

"It's a relief. It's nice to break apart from a group that never had your back." He said.

Claudia smiled to herself. It's been a while since she saw Calum look so relaxed and content. She was happy to see that he found peace of mind. She knew how exhausting their management was. Especially when their relationship was exposed. The band's team was quick to tell him to break up with her. They were desperate to keep his image of the one single band member. But Calum was very adamant and refused.

"My question is why were you on her Instagram?"

"I was bored. I have a question too."

"What is it?"

"The dress you wore to your prom, is that the one you had planned on wearing with me?"

"No." she giggled. "I had convinced my mom to take me to Saks up in HillCrest because I wanted to impress you and maybe you know with you."

"Weren't you seventeen?"

"Yeah? Wh— oh yeah nevermind."

***

Calum paced around his office, waiting for his dad to answer. Earlier Damian had accidentally spoiled Calum and Claudia's surprise by asking if his tía Claudia already had her baby. They came clean and told their parents they were having a baby.

After an unexciting baby and sex reveal, their moms tearfully congratulated them on their baby girl. Diego came around after a few jokes from Junior and Danny. He even shed a few tears after it finally hit him that his baby was having a baby. Which only brought more jokes about how he doesn't hide the fact that Claudia is favorite. The only parent that didn't have much of a reaction was David.

Calum quickly noticed the change in his demeanor as Joy and Soni gushed about the thought of being grandmothers to a baby girl that had both his and Claudia's dark brown curls. He texted him, letting him know that he was calling him. He stepped out and was now waiting for his dad to answer.

"Llo?" David answered.

"Hey, dad." Calum said back. He didn't know where to start. The last thing he wanted was to argue and ruin Christmas for them. But he wanted answers.

"You're really going to be a dad, huh." David spoke up, breaking the silence.

Calum laughed nervously and leaned against his desk. "Yeah, we were a bit surprised at first but we're excited now."

"Isn't it soon? You've been dating Claudia for what? A little over a year and now you're having a child? I never thought you'd settle."

"If you're implying that she purposefully got preg—"

"I'm not… children are a huge responsibility, Calum."

"I'm aware." He scratched his arm. "This is something we've already discussed. We had agreed on waiting a few more years, once Claudia was done with school and working, but it kinda sprung on us. We know the timing isn’t ideal, but we want this. We want her.”

“Alright,” David sighed.

Calum braced himself for what was going to come.

“I want to be called pops though, I’m too young to be called grandpa.” he said, earning a chuckle from his son.

Both of them ended up talking for what seemed like hours. They caught up on how things were going for them. They even joked about having a serious talk with Felix, Mali's boyfriend and a family friend of the Santos family. Calum didn't even notice Claudia walk in and leave him a plate of tamales de rajas con queso and a mug of ponche Navideño on his desk. After another half hour, Calum and David hung up, agreeing to talk later in the week.

Calum made his way back to the living room where Claudia, Danny, Sebastian and Medelyn were while he scarfed down his tamales and ponche. After he finished, he took his dishes and placed them in the sink, letting them soak. He joined Claudia on the floor, letting her lean against him. An hour later, Danny, Medelyn and Sebastian left since in Los Angeles there was a strict curfew. Calum and Claudia offered them one of the guest rooms, but they declined. It was now just the two of them.

By the time they finished cleaning, it was well into midnight. Claudia had changed into a simple yet sexy, panty and bra set, covering it with a silky robe and settled in bed. She scrolled through one of her favorite stories on Wattpad while she waited for him. She was at the part where the main characters established that they are enemies when Calum entered the room with a small plastic box.

"Merry Christmas." He offered her the box.

"We agreed to open presents in the morning." Claudia said.

"I know but I couldn't wait. Remember a while back I found out it was you that I was supposed to take to prom?" He asked.

Claudia nodded. She vaguely remembered the talk, but she did remember that afternoon he posted a screenshot of that Tweet and picture of them in the pool. There were mixed reactions. Some fans were confused why the pool was green, not knowing Ashton was in the midst of working on his album. Some gave them positive responses while others continued with their negativity.

"Anyways," He said, bringing her back from her thoughts. "I found the corsage and I wanted to give it to you. There's also something else in there."

Claudia carefully opened the box. It was beautiful. The flowers were dry, but she always liked dry flowers. To her they represent memories and experiences. She gently ran her finger over the ribbon that matched the dress she had originally bought. She still remembered their team asking her to link the website of her dress so they could get an exact color. She lifted the corsage only to reveal a BVLGARI ring box. Her eyes widened.

"No." Claudia shook her head. She passed him back the box. "Just because I'm having your baby, it doesn't mean you should propose."

"Umm, well good thing I'm not proposing." Calum awkwardly chuckled. He opened the small box, inside was a rose gold serpent ring. It was similar to the necklace he first gave her and the bracelets. "I wanted you to have the complete set. It fits your pointer finger, not the ring finger."

"Oh, thank god." She exhaled, relieved.

"Why that reaction though?" He asked her.

"I've seen too many couples get engaged for the wrong reason and end up miserable. Not that that would be us, but I don't want you to feel obligated because I’m having your kid."

"What do you think about marriage?" He shifted so she could be more comfortable.

"The overall thought of spending your life with someone and stuff sounds great. It's the fact that the government and/or church have to get involved to verify that gets me. Legally speaking it makes sense why they get involved. You?"

"I agree for the most part. I don't need some piece of paper to tell me that my feelings for you are valid." He said.

"Well thanks for the ring." Claudia said, showing him how it looked on her pointer finger. "I love it. Also I have something for you to unwrap."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She giggled as she stood on her knees in front of him.

Calum slowly opened her robe, revealing her bra and panties.

"You're my favorite present." Calum said, before gently pulling her down to kiss her. "The best thing that has ever happened to me."

***

"Check his left pocket." Ashton told Luke while he held Calum up.

Luke nodded and slipped his hand into Calum's pants. But in his drunken state, Calum pushed him away. He shook his hand and tried yo

"I'm flattered, but I have a girlfriend." he went on. "She's amazing. She also has a great ass and even more phenomenal brain. She's having my baby whilst getting her master's at UCLA."

"C'mon you cunt, just cooperate with us. Claudia is going to kill us." Luke grumbled. "Where are you are your fucking keys?"

"I have a spare under the potted cactus." Calum said. He yawned and rested his head on Ashton's shoulder.

Luke gave him a look and crouched under the potted plant. He lifted the pot and retrieved the keyes. He opened the door, holding it for Ashton to carry Calum in. They guided him to the couch.

Duke and Cherry jumped on Calum wanting to get cuddles from him, but he wasn’t in the mood. He grumbled and rolled on his stomach.

“We need to get ice on his hand.” Luke whispered to Ashton.

“Why does he need ice on his hand?” Claudia asked, startling them.

She stood on the doorway with a plate of sliced green apples drizzled with honey and warm peanut butter. She was pissed.

Calum had told her he was going to go to the studio with the guys. Only he didn’t. She was mindlessly scrolling through the explore tab on Instagram and saw a picture of Mitchy with Calum in the background. Claudia wasn’t mad that he was out with Mitchy. She could care less about him. What pissed her off was that he thought it was okay for him to be out partying in the middle of a global pandemic.

“He punched Mitchy.” Ashton said as if it was something Calum normally did.

“He WHAT!” Claudia yelled.

“That’s what Luke said. I don’t know. I was home sleeping when he called.”

“I was in the other room when it happened and when Jordan came to get me, he didn’t tell me what provoked him. They were just held back by a few other guys.” Luke explained.

“Did anyone else see?” Claudia asked. She was worried about the video getting out and that their old team could use it against it.

“No, there were like three other guys in the room when I got there. Everyone else was out in the yard. There guys were smoking and Cal was helping Mitchy get more drinks.”

Ashton patted Luke’s arm. “We should get going.”

“Bye Claudia and congrats on having a girl.” Luke said before he left with Ashton.

Claudia sighed when she heard the door close. She went over to Calum and got him out of his clothes. She grabbed a blanket and covered him, leaving to go upstairs to sleep.

Calum woke up hours later. His whole body was in pain. He couldn't lift his head up from the pillow at how heavy it felt. Though when he caught a peek of himself in boxers he jumped up.

It took him a minute to realize he was at his house. He didn't even know how he got home. The last thing he remembered was punching Mitchy for calling Claudia a bitch. He glanced down at his hand, even against his brown skin, his knuckles were still red. He opened and closed his fist, cursing at how it hurt.

He heard hushed voices coming from the kitchen. He recognized the voices instantly. Danny and Claudia were arguing in Spanish. On the opposite end of the couch were a t-shirt and sweatpants neatly folded. He put them on and went to the kitchen.

He barely made two steps in the kitchen when two hands shoved him hard.

Danny, what the fuck!" Claudia yelled. She pulled her brother back, letting Calum regain his composure.

"You don't come to my house and fucking start shit." Calum snapped at Danny.

"No, but I do come over and take my sister home with me because her baby daddy is an irresponsible headass." Danny sneered.

"What did you just say?" Calum asked.

"Are you fucking stupid?" Danny began. "Claudia is fucking pregnant and you think it's cool to go out and party. You're putting her life and your baby's in danger. Hell, even yours. You're fucking selfish."

Calum didn't know what to say. He felt like shit.

Danny gently reached for his sister's arm. "Claudia te vienes conmigo."

She shrugged him off and crossed her arms. "I'm not leaving."

"Me vale verga."

"She said she's not going." Calum spoke up.

"Cal, don't say anything right now." Claudia said defeatedly. "Danny, go home. We're going to resolve this."

Danny looked at Calum then to Claudia. "Fine." he said, knowing she wouldn't budge. He reached for his keys on the counter. "Me hablas al rato. Y más si este pendejo anda con sus pendejadas."

He hugged Claudia and went through the back to avoid getting close to Calum. Seconds later the front door slammed shut.

"Claudia,"

She lifted her hand up, stopping him. "I don't wanna hear Calum. I'm exhausted. I stayed up all night because I didn't know where the fuck you were. Then you come home late, so drunk that Luke and Ashton have to hold you up. Don't get me started on the fact that you got in a fight. I don't want to know what caused it, but it better not repeat.

What am I going to tell my parents this time? 'Yeah we can't make it because Calum decided that it was okay for him to party in the middle of a global pandemic where there were thousands of people dying and being hospitalized in just the city we live in. Feliz año.'"

"Claudia,"

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sure you."

Taglist: @suchalonelysunflower @f-mu @another-lonely-heart @sunshinebabycal-deactivated2021 @calumscalm @karajaynetoday @cherryxwildflower @ashtonsunflower @idontneedanyone @findingliam-o @5-secondsofcolor @mulletcal @polycashton @fckingpernico @2fangirl4u @calpops

#calum hood fluff #calum hood angst #calum hood one shot #calum hood blurb #calum hood imagine #calum hood fanfic #calum hood imagines #calum hood oneshot #calum hood fanfiction #el novio quarantine edition

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badlydrawndave · 7 months

Text

Your name is DAVE STRIDER and this is one of the very few BIRTHDAYS you've spent without your BRO. Well, he's here technically, locked away in a CAPTCHALOGUE CARD, but he isn't really here. Only the pure essence of him is here, like some mad wicked fuckin ghost shit. John would be ecstatic, if you weren't trying to spend today EXTREMELY FUCKIN ALONE and ROTTING IN YOUR ROOM.

But besides that, your day is going pretty well. One year older, one more sword. Well, you would have one more sword if your BRO was ALIVE.

What will you do?

#ask box is open for all sorts of angsty shit #dave's birthday bash

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cacoetheswriting · 4 years

Text

chasing a feeling pt. III - spencer reid

Warnings: mild cursing, implied smut (nothing explicit), kinda angsty, kinda fluffy Word Count: 2.3k Summary: this is part three: Spencer has a habit of showing up at your door in the middle of the night. A/N: italics are memories/flashbacks. also sorry this took so long omg!!

| PART ONE | PART TWO |

The case concluded a couple of days later. Days which consisted of ignoring Spencer; unless absolutely necessary. Days spent trying not to look at him, days spent pretending you weren't thinking about him, his touch, or that night you spent together.

It was incredibly hard to concentrate on quite literally anything.

The night you got home from the work trip was a sleepless one. You tossed and turned, anxious about seeing the brunette doctor the next day. You couldn't help but wonder how the two of you will act around one another now that you were back on common ground. How your dynamic will be now that you weren't working a case.

It shouldn't have come as a surprise that you weren't the only one feeling restless. A knock on your door caused you to hop out of bed and wander towards it. Letting a yawn escape your lips you looked through the peephole to check who was on the other side. Spencer.

Quickly, you opened the door. The young doctor looked up from the ground and greeted you with a timid smile.

“Spencer, what are you doing here? How did you know where I live?”

“I’m sorry Y/N, I know it’s late but-” He cleared his throat. “-can we please talk?” He asked while staring deep into your eyes. You nodded after a brief moment and stepped aside, allowing him to enter.

Spencer sat down on the couch, glancing around your apartment in the process. The place wasn’t fully decorated yet. A number of cardboard boxes were stacked on top of one another in the corner of the living room, clearly still full. The TV lay on the floor, cables tangled, and beside it was a half-opened suitcase with your go-bag thrown hastily on top.

You asked if he wanted a coffee, or anything else to drink, but he politely shook his head ‘no’ so you situated yourself on the opposite end of the couch and waited for him to tell you why he was here.

Silence enveloped around the room. Suddenly afraid to say anything, in case it ended up in another argument, the brunette doctor nervously fidgeted with the bottom of his shirt. You were slightly taken aback by his nervous demeanour, it was completely different to the way he acted around you the last week.

It reminded you of when you were younger. The shy, awkward, slightly closed-off Spencer. The guy who wouldn’t hold your hand or at time was afraid to meet your gaze, the guy that didn’t understand the sarcastic jokes you made. It made your heart ache a little.

Finals were approaching and they were approaching fast. Everyone said law school would be hard. Long hours, extensive curriculum, sleepless nights, projects, essays, case-studies. The list goes on.

It didn't help that you were a lot younger than your fellow classmates. Being an ambitious and driven kid you managed to skip a few grades and get an undergraduate degree in psychology at a very young age. Law school seemed like the logical next step although now you were thinking about giving up.

With junior year coming to an end, you constantly wondered whether this should be the end of your law career. Perhaps there was something better out there for you. Something easier, and not as draining. You weren't a quitter, far from it, but this was too much for a single person to handle.

It was Friday night, and yet currently you were curdled up on the library floor rather than at some frat party. Piles on piles of books and encyclopaedias formed around you as you worked away on your end of term paper.

A not so quiet yawn escaped your lips. Followed by another. Leaning back against the shelf behind you, you closed your eyes. Honestly, you could fall asleep here, now.

It was in that moment of silence you heard a shuffling sound approaching your location between the aisles of books. Slowly, you flushed your eyes back open to analyse your surroundings - see who it was that disturbed your peace.

A scrawny boy stood just a few feet away, deeply focused on the collection of titles in front of him. The boy was around your age. Tall. You could see remains of gel in his short brown hair; which was now quite messy. He was dressed in a slightly oversized sweater, underneath he wore what looked like a neatly ironed shirt, and a dark bag was draped loosely over his shoulder.

“Hello.” You said. His head instantly snapped in your direction.

“H-hi.” He replied sheepishly. “I-I didn’t mean to wake you.” His soft demeanour made you smile. “Oh, I wasn't actually sleeping. Just resting my eyes for a second.”

The boy nodded. You waited for him to say something but he didn't so you reached out your hand.

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

His gaze travelled to your hand before moving back up to meet yours. He didn't move any closer, and you could sense he grew a little uncomfortable, so you let your hand fall down to your lap.

“I’m Spencer.” He cleared his throat. “Doctor Spencer Reid.” Your eyes widened a little at his esteemed title. “Doctor?”

Spencer’s nose twitched gently.

“I have Ph.D’s in mathematics, chemistry and engineering.” He retorted causing your mouth to part in shock. “Holy shit.” Pause. “Wow, and here I thought I was the resident genius having one silly undergraduate degree.” You joked; but the young doctor didn't laugh. He simply stared at you, a kind look spread across his face.

“W-what are you studying now?” Spencer asked, motioning to the stakes of books around you.

“I’m in law school.” You replied. “Failing miserably to write my stupid end of term paper.” Sigh. “One of many actually.”

Spencer took one step forward. “M-maybe I can help?” He offered. “That is really kind of you but unless you have a law degree you haven’t mentioned yet, I don't know how you would be able to help.”

“I don’t have a law degree, but I have an eidetic memory.” He said, nervously tugging at the strap of his bag. “I-if that’s of any help to you.”

The smile on your face grew wider. “Well Spencer, now you’re just showing off.”

It was at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue with such ease, the brunette doctor finally smiled. And holy smokes did he have a pretty smile. Your heart skipped a beat as his face illuminated.

“But you convinced me.” You added while getting up on your feet. You picked up your things along with as many books as you could carry. Spencer shuffled toward you, and while keeping his distance, he bent down to pick up the remaining items.

“Why are you here Spencer?” You finally asked breaking the silence.

The brunette agent tilted his head in your direction, eyes locking with yours once again causing the air to catch briefly in your chest.

“I wanted to make sure you knew that what happened between us the other night, that wasn’t some ploy to get you to stay.” He stated. “I tried to explain that to you but you never really gave me a chance.” Pause. “Y/N, I want you to stay. Not for me but because you deserve to be a part of this team.”

“I appreciate you saying that Spencer. Truly.” A small smile graced your facial features. The brunette doctor smiled down at his hands. “But you didn’t have to come here in the middle of the night to tell me that. It could have waited.” You teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Spencer smirked before clearing his throat. He glanced up, his eyes meeting yours. “I guess I just wanted to see you.” You bit down on your bottom lip the second he said that, your heart skipping a beat. Spencer shifted closer to you. Without really thinking about it, you also moved in his direction. Your knees now touching.

“You know, communication was never our strong suit. For two people with psychology degrees you would think we’d be better at it.” You muttered making Spencer laugh. The smile on your face slowly faded. “Maybe we’re too similar, maybe that was our downfall.”

Spencer lifted his hand, reaching out for yours which was currently placed on your lap. He intertwined his fingers with yours. “In reality, opposites don’t attract.” The brunette doctor noted. “You’re more likely to be attracted someone who thinks the same as you do.”

In the space of a heartbeat, without giving you a chance to reach, Spencer leaned in. His lips brushed against yours; electricity shooting through your body. His free hand found its way to your face, and he cupped your cheek. As seconds passed you pushed yourself into him more. Fuck. Should you be doing this?

You hurried through the halls, slaloming between the groups of students making their way peacefully to class. A feeling of excitement filled you from head to toe; excitement you only wanted to share with one specific person.

Spencer was sat in your now usual spot at the university library. Two coffees in front of him, one for you.

A sort of routine emerged since the two of you first met. It started out for purely academic purposes, but in the last week especially it evolved into something different. A friendship perhaps? No. It felt more than that although neither of you could quite describe it

“I did it!” You exclaimed while sitting down beside the young doctor - getting a dirty look from the librarian in the process. She shushed you before returning to whatever it was she was doing. You rolled your eyes before turning your attention back to Spencer. “I am officially done with all my papers and assignments.”

“I’m happy for you Y/N.” Spencer smiled.

“Well, I couldn't have done it without you.” You beamed at him. “I don’t know how I will ever thank you Spencer.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Come on genius, there must be something I can do for you.”

The brunette doctor cleared his throat, avoiding your gaze. “I-I have t-two tickets to this convention, but you wouldn't be interested.” You raised an eyebrow while reaching for one of the coffees on the table. Lifting the lid to your lips you smiled. “It’s a date.”

Spencer’s hands were now holding onto your waist. He lifted you up in one swift motion, without breaking the kiss, so that you were now cradling his lap. You held his face, the tips of your fingers wrapping in his light brown curls.

Any reservations you had just a moment ago were now forgotten. You were completely lost in him, just as he was in you.

As your mouth parted, Spencer’s tongue crept between your lips meeting yours. Instantly, your tongues began to play back and forth. Heads tilting side to side to vary pressure.

Spencer’s strong hands began to travel up your body. They moved from your waist; slightly messing up your shirt in the process and sending a shiver down your spine. They stopped once they reached your neck, giving it a light squeeze. You couldn't help but moan against his hot mouth.

“I honestly don’t remember the last time I had this much fun.” You breathed happily as you and the young doctor walked down the busy street after the convention. “You don’t have to say that Y/N.” Spencer said, nervously tugging at the bottom of his shirt.

“Are you kidding? Spencer, today was amazing!” You beamed throwing your hands up in the air. “I was supposed to be making it up to you for your help with my papers but instead you treated me to another great day.”

Spencer chuckled lightly. He loved seeing you this happy. The more he thought about it, the more he realised how many things he actually loved about you. But it made him nervous because what if he didn't just love things like your laugh or your attitude. What if in fact he was in love with you.

“I guess we’re going to have to go on another date.” You teased. Spencer’s nose twitched but he didn't say anything. His lack of response caused you to stop in your tracks. The young doctor mimicked your move and also stopped, just a step ahead of you.

“I’m sorry.” You sighed.

“Why are you sorry?” Spencer asked confused.

“I just, I called today our date and I don’t want you to think I expect anything. I know the idea of dating can make you uncomfortable.” Your mouth flipped into a half-smile. “I like hanging out with you Spencer. I enjoy your company, and I wouldn't want to jeopardise that.”

“I like hanging out with you too.”

“Really?” “O-of course I do Y/N.” He smiled nervously. “I-I would like to go on more dates with you. You’re like a breath of fresh air.” Your face flushed red at his comment. Something Spencer noticed immediately. Without really thinking, he reached out his hand and gently caressed your cheek.

Your heart stopped. This was the first time he had touched you, ever. It was the first time you felt his soft skin against yours. You wanted desperately to lean into his touch but you didn't want to scare him off so you stood still, taking a mental picture of this moment.

Very slowly the two of you broke apart. The brunette doctor looked deep into your eyes; what he saw was longing, fervour. He felt the exact same.

Between the constant fights and misunderstandings it felt wrong to feel this strong desire to one another. This strong pull. It felt almost toxic. But Spencer shook the invasive thought away, his lips once again meeting yours.

“Would you like to move this to the bedroom?” You suggested in a mere whisper in between kisses. Spencer nodded. His hands situated themselves on your bum. The brunette agent picked you up allowing you to swiftly wrapp your legs around him. He carried you to the bed, kicking the door shut behind you with his leg.

story taglist: @ashwarren32, @haylaansmi, @spencersblog, @lovebodymindstuff, @april-14-blog, @wooya1224, @chevyimpala00067, @sizzlingclamturtlesludge

masterlist

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hermannsthumb · 3 years

Note

I know you don't usually write PRU stuff, but if you ever feel inclined, here's a ficlet idea! so: Newt is trying to fight off the Precursors by constantly reminding himself that He Is Human. but whenever newt thinks about what makes him Feel Human, the answer is always hermann. so newt starts conjuring up vivid mental images of hermann (doing mundane, hermann-y things) to ward off the Precursors. bonus point if, like, newt fondly remembering smth innocuous (like the scent of Hermann's chalk dust?) is enough to actually sever the alien mind control.

Anonymous asked: Maria!!! Would you ever write an angsty post uprising prompt? Or even a pre uprising? Anything with Newt fucking around with Kaiju and being sad i am HERE FOR 👏

in honor of the sequel’s 3 year anniversary, let’s try something a little different 👀 THIS ONE GOT AWAY FROM ME RE: LENGTH....I'll leave it up to interpretation whether or not the bonus is wholly fulfilled.... also on proofing this I realized it might need content warnings? so vague refs to disordered eating and alcohol drinking (ie, newt’s body is inhabited by aliens who forget how human stuff works)

-----------

Honestly, Newt’s life has been kind of a shitshow lately. He’s too, like, high strung. Too many responsibilities. Not enough hours in the day to get that shit done. He’s even higher strung than he was during the war, which is nuts, because certain doom was lurking around every corner. Maybe that’s why it’s not that nuts, though. The war was chaotic—and Newt’s fueled (or, used to be fueled?) by chaos. The kaiju were unpredictable. The kaiju didn’t run on a 9-5 schedule. The kaiju didn’t expect Newt to have three new jaeger prototypes on their desk by noon on a fucking Saturday, which is usually the day Newt spends two hours in his expensive bath tub and drinks a nice bottle of wine, and definitely not a day he wants to spend giving himself a stress migraine and shouting at underlings to make themselves useful. On top of that, his usual cafe got his coffee order wrong—when Newt had to run in to get it, himself, on a Saturday morning—and it only had half the espresso shots he really needs for the day. No wonder he’s going grey at forty. Fucking nightmare. Stable employment is exactly the kind of chaos that’s bad for Newt—give him the kaiju any day, thanks.

“Dr. Geiszler?”

Newt pushes his sunglasses up, and scowls at whichever one of his employees has dared to interrupt his catnap. The fluorescent overheads are brutal on his poor eyes right now. The lab needs more natural lighting. Maybe if he complains, they’ll knock out some walls in put in a few more windows. “Did you find any Aspirin?” he says.

Wordlessly, Newt’s assistant passes him a bottle. Newt pops the cap off and takes at least four. The coffee he washes it down with is cold. “How are the last simulations coming along?” he says, flicking his sunglasses back down. He seems to have so many migraines these days. It’s the contact lenses, he thinks—making the switch over from frames so late in the game. Screwing with his perceptions. Newt went thirty years with frames, after all. “We only have two hours before—”

“We’re almost done,” his assistant cuts in. “We’re working as fast as we can, Dr. Geiszler.”

“But are we gonna make the deadline?” Newt says.

She fidgets, and moves her clipboard to her other arm. “Well—we’ve had some—issues.”

Newt stands up with a long sigh. Double overtime, probably. Sunday lost to this shit too. That new bottle of wine waiting for him on his kitchen counter bought for nothing. “Gotta do everything myself, huh? Unbelievable.”

He follows his assistant over to the main lab down the hall, where his team of j-techs are hurrying around. Hardly anyone in proper lab attire—no labcoats—someone in sweatpants—Newt wasn’t the only one who had his Saturday ruined, probably. No one else is going grey, though. “What’s this shit?” he says, stopping in his tracks with one foot through the doorway. The high-tech holo-smartboards have been pushed aside, and instead, someone’s wheeled in a huge…chalkboard.

“Technical issues,” his assistant says. “The other floors are having the same problem—something in the new interface update that downloaded last night, we think. They’re all out of commission. Technology is working on it, but for now, we had to pull that out of deep storage.”

Two of his scientists are scrawling across the board quickly—one with white chalk, the other with pink. They’re debating something in hushed tones. Newt hasn’t seen a chalkboard in years. It doesn’t fit with Shao Industry’s whole chic, sleek, futuristic aesthetic. So—bulky. And messy. “Of course it would happen today of all days,” Newt sighs. The sight of it makes him feel odd, and he can’t seem to drag himself any further into the lab and any closer towards it.

His assistant says something. Newt doesn’t hear—he’s listening, instead, to the squeaking of chalk across the blackboard. So noisy and obnoxious. It reminds him of years and years ago, of working in a grimy little basement, of…

“—look it over. Dr. Geiszler?”

“Hm?” Newt says. It was like a layer of fog had begun to lift from his thoughts, but the interruption sends it rolling right back in.

“I said we’re ready for you to look it over. Only if you want too, of course,” she adds, nervously.

“Uh-huh,” Newt says.

Newt’s never had anyone fear him before, not like his employees seem to fear him—he’s not sure he likes it. His scientists shut up the second he looms over (well—under, Newt’s never loomed over anyone in his life) their shoulders to inspect their work so far. The squeaking stops. One of them lowers their piece of chalk. “Wait,” Newt says, too-loudly, surprising them and himself. They both look at him with the same nervousness as his assistant, like he’s about to start shouting or something. “Keep doing that.”

“Keep…?”

“Writing,” Newt says. “On the chalkboard.”

The scientist frowns at him. “Um, okay,” she says. “What am I supposed to write?”

“Anything,” Newt says. “Seriously. Anything.”

She hesitates.

“Anything,” Newt repeats.

She picks up the white chalk, and writes out her name, then doodles a few random pictures—a DNA helix, a flower, a cat face, a star. Newt shuts his eyes, and breathes in deeply. That smell. He snags the forgotten piece of pink chalk from the ledge. “Can I have this?” he says. He doesn’t wait for them to respond—though they both nod yes frantically, and bewilderedly—before writing out his own name on the board. Dr. Geiszler. It looks wrong, so he writes Newt beneath it. He shuts his eyes, and writes Newt again. Why does he feel like he’s done this sort of thing before? This thing is ancient—before his time at Shao—he wouldn’t have used it before they carted off to the basement. Newt, Newt, Newt Was Here,he writes, Newt +, and then he stops.

He opens his eyes. “Who’s Hermann?” his assistant says.

Newt + Hermann. Newt didn’t realize he wrote it. “Someone I knew,” he says, faintly. “Years ago. He was my—” He swallows. He feels strange. “My colleague?”

Strange. Dizzy. The Aspirin isn’t working. Definitely the contact lenses. He could afford laser eye surgery now, if he wanted, maybe he should look into it. He grips the ledge of the chalkboard, swaying, and grits his teeth; his two scientists back away from him slowly, no doubt worried he’s about to hurl all over their shoes. He might, to be honest. Newt + Hermann. Hermann was his colleague. Hermann was his— “Are you feeling okay, Dr. Geiszler?” his assistant asks. “You look…”

“Tell Shao I’m taking the rest of the day off,” Newt says.

“What?”

“You guys got this shit handled without me,” Newt says. He pockets the chalk. “I’m not—I’m not feeling myself. I think I need to go home and lie down. Seriously, you’ve got it under control—all these numbers look, uh, good, I trust you. If you guys don’t get it finished you can just tell Shao it’s my fault, okay?”

She gapes at him. “Uh,” she says. “Okay?”

Newt doesn’t go home. He goes to the nearest shop he can find instead, and makes a beeline for the art supplies aisle. Only a few boxes of chalk in stock. Four multicolored, two all-white, one yellow. He drops them all into his basket but the yellow, which he rips opens and immediately smells. Newt + Hermann. Hermann always smelled like chalk dust—he always had a fine layer of it on his clothing, patches of it on his blazer, his sweatervest, even on his undershirt. Newt used to tease him for that. He closes his eyes, and breathes in again. Funny—all those baths, all those bottles of wine, and this stupid little box of chalk is what’s finally making him feel calm for once. Quieting down his brain. He didn’t realize how loud it’d gotten in there. When Hermann would kiss Newt, he would sometimes stain Newt’s clothing with chalk, too, and Newt would pretend to be annoyed, but he never really was.

Someone is speaking to him. An employee. They’re staring at him, a cautious distance away, and Newt’s not sure what they’re saying.

His vision’s gone blurry—he didn’t realize he’d started crying, either. He wipes his eyes on the cuff of his blazer and sniffles. “Sorry,” he says. The box of yellow chalk is wet. “Um. Do you have any more of these in the back?”

He takes the bus home for the first time in years, one hand stuffed in his little brown shopping bag the whole time, wrapped around a box of chalk. When he gets back to his apartment (his big, lonely, apartment), he pulls out the only food in his fridge—some leftovers from a Shao Industries event three nights ago—and settles down on his big, lonely couch. He can’t stop thinking about Hermann. Five or so years, maybe more, not thinking about Hermann, and now suddenly—it’s like the floodgates have opened. He thinks about Hermann’s haircut. (Bad.) He thinks about Hermann’s smile. (Silly, and sweet.) He thinks about Hermann’s dumb accent, and the clack of Hermann’s cane on the floor, and Hermann’s chalk squeaking over his chalkboard, and how it felt when Hermann would wrap him in his arms and kiss him and whisper things to him. Hermann’s sweaters always smelled like mothballs and stale cigarette smoke. Terrible combination.

Newt’s stomach growls. He’s finished the small bit of leftovers without realizing, and is apparently still hungry. He would kill for some sushi takeout right now. Or pizza, God. Yeah, it’d be screwing with his new diet and fitness plan—he casts a guilty glance over at his brand new exercise bike, which is gathering dust in the corner by his TV—but he’s tired of doing stupid kale and juice cleanses or whatever, just to please—well. He’s only human.

He is?

He walks up the stairs to his bathroom, and stares at himself in the mirror. Stupid vest. Stupid tie. Neat hair, clean-shaven cheeks, contact lenses. Newt’s only human. “I’m human,” he tells his reflection. Is he human? He felt human standing by that old chalkboard back in the lab, and holding that box of yellow chalk in the aisle of that little shop. He felt human when he was remembering things. Because of—Newt blinks at himself. Because of whom?

“Hermann,” he says, and smiles at the way the name makes him feel. He should text him, maybe.

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

“I must say,” Hermann says, “I was quite surprised when I received your dinner invitation. You’ve done a rather fine job of ignoring my calls as of late. I’d thought— Ah, thank you,” he adds, as Newt holds the door open for him. He steps into Newt’s apartment and cranes his neck around, squinting curiously, and then shoves a bottle of red wine at Newt’s chest. Hermann is much more personable than Newt remembers—what little Newt remembers—and he wonders if it’s age or something else. “I’ve been holding onto this one for a while. It’s the one you gave me as a part of a gift for my thirty-seventh birthday—you remember? Oh, but isn’t it so terrifically, er, modern in here.”

“Is it?” Newt says. He’s never given much thought to his apartment before, but he stares around at it now in mild interest. It is very chic, isn’t it? Monochrome. Impersonal. Not something Newt would’ve picked for himself. “Yeah, I had some interior decorators come in and do it for me.”

Hermann arches an eyebrow. “How…”

“Modern,” Newt offers. He puts the bottle of wine on his marble kitchen island. “Thanks for this, by the way, but I’ve actually been trying to cut back on the—” He bites back drinking. No need to alarm Hermann. “—Calories, so if it’s cool with you I’d rather not open it. I’m doing a, um, a new fitness program.”

“Ah,” Hermann says. “I suppose that explains that, then, doesn’t it?” He points at the dusty exercise bike. Newt watches his gaze move from that, to the barren leather couch, to the short staircase which leads to Newt’s shut bedroom door. Newt can practically see the gears working in his head. “Will—ah, what was their name, that little flight of fancy of yours—a dalliance, one might say—will they be, ah, joining the two of us?” He looks at Newt out of the corner of his eye. “Alice, was it?”

“Who?” Newt says, blankly.

Hermann breaks out in a broad grin, which he quickly tries, very badly, to turn into a sympathetic frown. He pats Newt’s arm. “There’s the spirit, then, Newton! All in the past, I presume? Hardly any use in dwelling on a broken heart. Then again—it’s not as if you were together long enough to warrant those sorts of dramatics, were you?” he says, cheerily. “What I mean is—certainly it wasn’t as if you had any sort of deep or emotional connection with—?—oh, I’ve forgotten the name again.”

“Uh,” Newt says. He’s not really sure who Hermann’s talking about, but just based on that fact alone, he would assume Hermann is right. “I guess not?”

“Precisely as I expected,” Hermann says, with a satisfied nod. “Rotten grounds for a relati—for a fling. You deserve far better, Newton.” Hermann touches Newt’s arm again, and this time, he doesn’t move his hand. It makes Newt’s skin prickle pleasantly. “You look well these days, though I admit it’s a bit of a shock to see you without your glasses,” Hermann continues, flicking his eyes up and down Newt twice. He lingers on Newt’s left hand, over the bare spot where—until this morning, when he suddenly realized how stupid it looked and yanked it off—he was wearing that Elvis ring. “Ending things must be treating you kindly. I don’t suppose I could dash to your loo?”

“Loo?” Newt says. “Oh, right. Yeah, it’s that door there, right off the living room.” He drops down onto the leather couch. “Knock yourself out. I’ll be right here.”

Hermann disappears into Newt’s bathroom, and comes back out three minutes later with combed hair, a straightened collar, and the vague smell of cologne. He’s tucking a small bottle into his top pocket. “I found a box of hair dye in your medicine cabinet,” he declares, smugly. “I knew there was no bloody way that was natural. Though I’m not surprised it fooled Alice.” He rests his cane against the glass coffee table and sits down next to Newt. Right next to Newt. The whole sofa to pick from, and he’d rather their thighs touch. Newt doesn’t mind—actually, the contact is strangely grounding, like Hermann’s hand on his arm had been earlier. He’s here, in his living room, with Hermann, his friend Hermann, his colleague Hermann, his—well, question mark—Hermann.

“Hermann, can I ask you something?” he says. “Something important?”

“By all means,” Hermann says, leaning in and fluttering his eyelashes. Even over the cologne, Newt can still make out that mothball-chalk-smoke smell.

“Do you take your coffee with sugar?” he says.

Hermann laughs. “Do I—what?”

Newt repeats the question. The smile slips off Hermann’s face, and he draws away, furrowing his eyebrows. “Well,” he says, “yes, usually, only I’m not sure what—”

“Sugar, and some milk,” Newt says. “It was the same with your tea. And you had a mug that you would use—you wouldn’t use any other. It was blue, and it said—” He exhales through his nose. “It said TU Berlin. That’s where you got your PhD.”

After Newt sent Hermann a text about dinner last night, he sat down with a pen and pad of paper and made a list of everything he could remember about Hermann. He started with what Hermann looks like, and who Hermann is, and then moved into the harder stuff like what Hermann likes and the sort of things Hermann used to do. He stayed up all night doing it, until his hand cramped and his head hurt even more than it had that morning, and then recited it over and over to himself in a whisper as he fell asleep. Hermann has brown eyes. Hermann likes blackberry jam on his toast. Hermann wears little glasses on a chain. Hermann uses a cane with a tiny little nick in the brass of the handle. The list is in his pocket now; it makes Newt feel calm, and even calmer when he reaches into his pocket and touches it. He exhales again, hard, and then inhales. “We were together,” he says. “When we closed the Breach, you told me you loved me.”

“I did,” Hermann says, quietly.

“I said it back,” Newt says.

Hermann nods.

Slowly, Newt reaches out and puts his hand over Hermann’s. Hermann makes a strange noise in the back of his throat—like a sigh, or maybe a groan. His pulse twitches erratically under Newt’s fingertips. “I bought chalk,” Newt says.

“You—” Hermann echoes, his voice choked. “You bought chalk?”

“It reminded me of you,” Newt says.

He’s not surprised when Hermann kisses him, but he is surprised at his knee-jerk reaction: to pull away, or push Hermann away, and to order him to get out of his apartment. He’s surprised, because those aren’t his thoughts. He doesn’t want Hermann to leave—he wants Hermann to stay longer, and kiss him more, and help him remember more. “Oh, Newton,” Hermann says. “Newton, Newton—” He moves his mouth to Newt’s neck, kissing, breathing, and whispering his name, and Newt shuts his eyes and forces himself to remember his list.

“Tell me things about you,” Newt begs. “I want to remember you.”

Hermann’s laughter, hesitant and confused, comes out in a puff of hot air against his skin. “Remember me?” he says. “I’m not sure— Are we not a bit—?”

“Hermann,” Newt says.

He grips the back of Hermann’s sweater, digging his nails in Hermann’s skin through the layers of fabric. Hermann must hear the urgency in his voice, because he shakes his head with another laugh, kisses Newt’s jaw, and says, “Well, alright. What am I even meant to tell you?”

“Your favorite color,” Newt says. Hermann kisses his chin. “Your favorite song. No, wait—” He nudges Hermann away from him, just enough so that Hermann can see him smile. “Tell me what you like about me.”

“Feeling rather egotistical tonight, aren’t we?” Hermann teases. He reaches out and brushes his fingers through the side of Newt’s hair. One of the spots Newt dyed—it was too grey. He catches Hermann’s hand by the wrist and pulls it away gently, but only to press himself up against Hermann’s chest instead. He can feel Hermann’s heartbeat. “I like—hm,” Hermann says. “I like your stubbornness. I like your passion. I like…”

His voice vibrates in his throat—Newt can feel that, too. He listens.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #if Alice was a real person her picture would be on Hermann's dartboard #it probably is anyway #Anonymous

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

Text

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 31

First time reader click here

it's a mental breakdown *off-key kazoo*. One (1) incident of physical abuse from a parent. And Stephen Strange arc begins opening. Kind of angsty, but more of a filler chapter to resolve the parents-suck thing.

A couple of days was all it took for me to get back on my feet... Figuratively speaking. Neither Bruce nor Tony was particularly excited about me being up and about, I was carried to my desired destination point by one or the other on most occasions. Physically, my body grew tired very easily - I took a lot of sporadic naps throughout the day, more often than not falling asleep in someone's arms. Nobody minded, really - even Loki, who wasn't a touchy-feely person by any means, relented and acted as a body pillow for me when we crashed on the common room couch to catch up with the TV show episodes I'd missed.

Tony was very obviously on the verge of a nervous breakdown. During the few hours I had spent being chased by the Cursed Box Demon in my nightmares, all the leads towards the contractor proved to be cold. Natasha was the most irritated of them all - a late-night talk with Clint through the vent above my room revealed that she took it as a personal insult, unprepared for a simple merc to be so good at evading the world's most notorious spy.

Hulk kept taking over Bruce's body - eyes shining fluorescent green - at the times we were together, periodically clutching me to his chest with clumsy but careful movements. I pitied the mercenary should he encounter my gentle scientist - I didn't think Bruce would even attempt to hold back Mean Green. They seemed to have achieved some sort of symbiosis those days, switching between the two personalities in one body almost effortlessly. Circumstances aside, I was very happy that the tension and the persistent internal conflict inside Bruce had almost disappeared.

What made me upset was Strange. The sorcerer was behaving, well, strangely. He began avoiding all of us - his excuses of helping the search for the merc were flimsy, and Wong's long, deep sigh, when asked about the sorcerer's state of mind, spoke volumes. I suspected Stephen was either seething with anger or drowning himself in the sea of guilt; I had a hunch he was similar to Tony in a way that he hid his vulnerability behind an impenetrable wall of malice and sarcasm and dry wit.

Perhaps I was wrong. But the pent up frustration resulting from the conflict between my overactive brain and my uncooperative body had to blow - and my mother was the fire to my already short fuse. Somehow, she got ahold of the information that I was hurt indirectly because of the actions of the Avengers - and she had called the first available phone she found, which meant Pepper Potts got an earful of vitriol regarding Stark Industries, SHIELD, Tony, and everyone else, including my father. Stoic as she was, Pepper took it all with grace, replying politely to my mother until she hung up on the redhead.

Pepper placed an urgent call to Coulson immediately after that, making the already uncomfortable situation spiral into something truly disgraceful. It ended with strict orders for me to return home - not that anyone besides me and Coulson knew about it. I was a legal adult, I could choose to stay in the tower and my mother was told so on numerous occasions... Knowing her, I was well aware she wouldn't be above storming Tony's home with a small army of her lawyer friends.

Inwardly seething, melting with the anger sitting in the pit of my stomach like a sharp piece of ice, I managed to convince Tony to have Happy escort me home at the guise of gathering more necessities. Tony, being Tony, offered me to buy anything and everything I needed, but relented under my puppy-eyed pleading. It was getting harder and harder to lie to any of my men, the weight of it settling unpleasantly bitter on top of my already foul mood.

Happy grumbled in displeasure at being tailed by a nondescript black SUV - I knew SHIELD would have eyes on me 24/7 now, at least until they catch the rogue mercenary - but seemed to be happy at my general state of relative wellness in his own... Happy... way. Five-second side-grin and "Glad you're up and about, Princess," was probably the most I was going to get from the man who's nickname contradicted his personality. In my humble opinion, he should've been called Brick instead. He was built like a shit house, too.

The moment I stepped into the living room, wearing Wanda's spare sweats and Tony's hoodie, I took a slow look around the room and immediately knew this was it. Most of my anger had receded, courtesy of finally being able to get out of the tower and do something, but the ice in my stomach persisted. The smell of whiskey and cigarettes hit me like a wall, news playing on the TV doing very little to dissolve the viscid, tense silence.

"Sit down," My mother instructed me in the tone of voice she used on people in the courtroom - convicts, people who knowingly broke NDAs.

"I don't think so," I replied, refusing to give in to her bullying. I was being absolutely reckless, I knew it, and still it didn't stop me from standing up for my men. Logically speaking, it could have happened to me anyway, Avengers or not. The cursed box came along long before I'd even met Peter Parker or any of his rag-tag superhero friends.

"Fine," She turned around, steely eyes leveled on me. I was but a speck of dirt under her nails - for the first time in my life, I felt terrified of my mother. I knew what she was capable of. "Listen well, daughter of mine. I'm going to only repeat myself once," She started in that deceptively calm tone of hers. "You are to stop mingling with Stark and his... Company. Immediately. I do not want to hear any more of that Parker boy, either. You will not destroy your future and our family's legacy over some fling with a man twice your age. This little game has gone long enough and it's time for you to get back to reality."

The more she spoke, the higher my eyebrows rose. I was supposed to take orders from my own mother now? Something thin, something thin and crackling with electricity within me just snapped - like a live wire. The hairs on my nape stood up, goosebumps appearing all over my skin. "And what if I do not?" I asked, just as quietly.

I was not prepared for her reaction. One second, she was sitting on the couch and the other - my cheek was burning and my mother was standing over me, breathing the stench of alcohol and tobacco right in my face. I saw the whites of her eyes. "Then you are no daughter of mine. I did not raise you to be someone's cumrag and all this play-pretend scientist shit had to have ended in middle school. I hoped you'd grow up but apparently, you insist on being a baby," She was full-on screaming in my face, so rabid she was shaking.

All I could think of was... How wrong she was. How wrong she would be, her sad little world broken when she finds out just exactly how much I'm capable of. Long gone were the days where I timidly questioned my scientific contributions; thanks to my men - the same men she'd hated so much - I knew my value. I knew I could achieve the things that I wanted.

"If that is your choice, you have thirty minutes to get your shit and get lost. I will not have a whore of a daughter living under my roof," I had missed a good part of her rant; most likely, it consisted of nothing but meaningless insults anyway. After she'd finished, she gave me a shove towards the stairs.

It didn't bother me as much as it should, I think. My cheek smarted and somewhere deep inside, I knew that the eerie calm that had settled over me wasn't normal - on the surface, I felt only relief. The things I suspected all along, finally came to light - she didn't even perceive me as a human being, I was no more than a means to her end. A tool. A thing.

The waterworks started when I frantically shoved most of the shit I could fit in my three suitcases. Upset as I was, my scatterbrain did me a favor that time and I gathered most of the important things. Notebooks full of my research - projects that my mother had called a child's game, projects that could be patented in a week, add a tweak or two. With sudden clarity, I realized I needed none of her money. None of her... At all. In short, I was emotionally all over the place and at the end of it... None of it made sense.

I threw the credit cards with her name on them on the coffee table as I hauled out my suitcases, not sparing the bitch a glance. She was equally quiet, boring into my back with those steely eyes of hers. I felt my skin peel under her stare. In my distraught state, hauling and dumping the suitcases in my car was quick work. Detaching the house key and tossing the last things that connected me to her house on the floor at her feet was a spur of the moment decision; my mother was right, to some extent, and I still had childish tendencies. "You had no right to call yourself my mother in the first place. All you were was an egg donor with more money than you could make sense of. Enjoy your hoard, you damned dragon," I seethed, seeing her frozen in place with her arms crossed and chin held high.

Some part of me hoped she would apologize. That naïve, childish part - I knew my mother and I knew myself, and the trait that we shared was stubbornness. I sped out of the estate without ever looking back, driving aimlessly for a while until the honking coming from drivers around me began reaching alarming levels of volume; tears began flowing down my face at some point, all but obscuring my vision. I parked in the nearest place I could find, in front of a Waffle House out of all places.

Crying in a Waffle House parking lot, how pathetic was that. Logically, I knew at least five people had my back: Tony and Bruce, who surprisingly loved me back; Loki, who had become strangely clingy after my declaration - clingy in the best way. Together with Wanda and Peter, they made my heart warm and my eternally racing brain feel calm and safe.

I called my dad, he didn't pick up. I don't know what I expected of the man, but any and all remnants of my respect for him shattered, breaking into tiny little pieces as I helplessly banged my fists against the steering wheel in a fit of desperate rage. One look in the mirror and my already ashen complexion was made worse by red, puffy eyes and the blooming bruise on my cheek where my mother had slapped me. It was the first time she'd laid a hand on me; I wanted to throw up.

I sat in the car until my breathing slowed; completely and utterly clueless as to what to do. I had no home of my own, three suitcases worth of clothes and research that was useless without a lab to run experiments in, my car, and a small trust fund in my name. The recent incident with the curse box had left me mentally drained as it was, now, I could surely say that my head was empty: no thoughts.

And throughout it all, Stephen's avoidance crossed my mind. As if the self-loathing wasn't enough, as if my own blood, the people who were supposed to care for me, rejecting and ignoring me wasn't strong enough of a blow... The sorcerer's avoidance raised more anger within me. I didn't know why but the thought of him made me want to cry and seethe once again.

Logic gone out of the window, I typed in the Sanctum's address into my GPS with shaking fingers, figuring that if he wasn't willing to do the legwork, I will come to him myself and clarify things for all at once. The mixed signals were just a cherry on top of my sky-high problem sundae.

I banged on the door and it flew open immediately, a surprised sorcerer quickly turning concerned and panicky, noticing my general state of appearance. I was still wearing the same clothes and my hair was in disarray, my face looking somewhere between a coke bender and a manic episode.

"You," I stated darkly, taking a deep breath. "You need to tell me what the fuck is wrong with me and reject me, so I can move on already. And you," I poked the man in the chest, right above the fancy eye-shaped necklace, "Need to stop it with the mixed signals. Stop wallowing in self-pity. Whatever you are doing, STOP IT," My voice involuntarily raised in pitch from all those emotional rollercoasters I've been on that day. "Get back to being normal. Let me fucking live," I finished my tirade as the man stared at me, frozen and open-mouthed.

"I..." He stammered, eyeing me with concern. "What in the multiverse happened to you? What..?" He was so confused, pulling out his phone the moment I bailed my fists.

"My mother threw me out, my father doesn't give a fuck about me, apparently I'm a cheap whore with delusions of grandeur. You're avoiding me and everybody is waiting for me to blow up," I screeched, all but vibrating in my spot. "This is me blowing up. I want answers!" I demanded.

Strange recoiled from me, frowning and pocketing his phone. A deep sigh left him, the kind that made his whole body sag. He ran a careful hand through his hair before looking away and slowly pulling me against his chest, the door shutting behind me and keeping the cold out. I hadn't even noticed I was freezing; my feet were wet from the NYC winter slush and mud.

Stephen's embrace was warm and tender; I wanted to lean into it and push him away at the same time. I was so messed up, it was embarrassing. There was nothing acceptable about this situation - I felt guilty as soon as his face fell.

"Jesus Christ, baby," He mumbled quietly. "Sounds like you had one hell of a day. Let's go, I'll put on some tea," He rubbed soothing circles on my back, something that confused me - I just had stormed in and dumped a bucket of bile right on top of his head.

"I should go," I mumbled, yet had no real strength to move away from him.

"You're not going anywhere. I suppose I need to explain myself, too," He sighed, and despite his obvious discomfort, picked me up, letting my limbs to wrap around his torso like a monkey. I was careful to keep my weight off his hands, even if the trip to the fireplace room was short. As soon as I was placed onto the couch and my shoes were removed, Cloaky drifted over from a dark corner, urging me to take off my soggy hoodie, and wrapped itself tightly around me.

Turns out, semi-sentient cloaks were quite warm.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95

#party favours #bun writes #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you #stephen strange x reader #tony stark x you #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x y/n

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holidaywishes · 3 years

Text

the truth

part nine: the truth

Requested: 🙅‍♀️

Summary: “I ended things because I hated being your second-choice, I hated sharing you with this city, I hated not having an identity aside from... you. And honestly, I think you like it that way...”

Warning: angst, some fluff

Author’s Note: As I was looking over this series, I realized the last time I wrote for it was the beginning of the Pandemic. Literally, it was like March 25th, 2020. I keep trying to find time to add to it, or to finish it, but never get a chance; until now. I’m making myself do it and it’s a big reason why my requests are closed. I have three chapters planned and they’re all gonna be pretty angsty with some fluff thrown in for the hell of it. I’m curious to know how many people want this to end happily and how many people want it to end... “realistically” i.e. with more angst than fluff; so I created a poll! Have fun and let me know what you think! I’m hoping that I can get this out before my birthday because it’s been more than a year and I’m ready to move on to other fics lol. Enjoy! Stay Golden, loves! <3

masterlist

the other masterlist

You would be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t spent the last week thinking about what you and Brendan had talked about; how your ideas of marriage didn’t seem to match up anymore. There was a few days when the conversations the two of you had would hover around superficial topics, like the weather or his practices or what either of you wanted for supper, and you knew it was so you would just avoid bringing up the truth

“So...” he finally said one Sunday afternoon and you felt yourself prepare yourself for the inevitable conversation, furrowing your brows when he kept it to small talk, “what are the plans for today?”

“Nothing in particular...” you sighed, “got any ideas?”

“Wanna go out for dinner?” he asked, not looking up from the paper he was reading. He never read the paper and you weren’t sure why he was starting now

“Like a date night?” you prompted and he finally looked up, giving you a smirk

“Yeah,” he replied, “like a date night. How does that sound?”

“I mean,” you smiled, sitting back in your seat, “yeah that sounds great. Where are we going?”

“That one in the Birks Hotel? With the Stained Glass?” he said, trying to think of the name

“Henri Brasserie?” you questioned

“HENRI BRASSERIE! That’s it” he exclaimed

“You sure?”

“Yeah... why wouldn’t I be?”

“Every time we walk past, you kinda.. scoff at it”

“I do not” he countered and you raised your eyebrows at him

“Yes. You do”

“Well, I think it would be a nice place for a date night. Plus, we’ve never been”

“Yeah, that’s true,” you added, “alright! What time?”

“6”

“It’s almost 4 now!” you exclaimed

“Yeah?” he said dumbly and you scoffed hastily before making your way to the bedroom to pick an outfit, “(Y/N)? Babe?” he called

“I have to get ready...” you replied and he laughed

“You have tons of time!”

“STOP!” you laughed in a small panic, “I’m going to take a shower!”

Brendan’s P.O.V

You shook your head as (Y/N) rushed around trying to get ready, jumping into the shower quickly while you stayed downstairs in the kitchen.

“Bonjour, Henri Brasserie, comment puis-je vous aider aujourd'hui?” a voice asked when they picked up on the other line

“Bonjour,” you started, switching to English quickly, “I know it’s last minute but I’m hoping to make a reservation for two, tonight, at 6?”

“Oh,” the voice said, clearly baffled at the last minute request, “uhm.. let me see”

“I really appreciate it,” you said, looking up the stairs to make sure (Y/N) was still in the shower, “I’m planning to propose tonight”

“Congratulations!” the voice exclaimed

“Merci” you smiled to yourself

“Oh, wow,” she scoffed, surprised, “someone just cancelled their reservation, for 6:15 tonight”

“Perfect!”

“Can I just grab a name for the reservation?”

“Brendan,” you said, “Last name, Gallagher” you heard them gasp and you had to hold back a chuckle

“Monsieur Gallagher,” they started, “I’m so sorry. I’m such a fan, I should’ve recognized your voice...”

“Don’t worry,” you smiled, “I’m happy you were able to find a table for us”

“Is there anything special you would like? We are so honoured you have chosen us for your proposal tonight and we would love to be able to make the night as special as possible for you and your soon-to-be-fiancée”

“If you could put us next to that big Stained Glass window that would be perfect,” you asked, hoping they could manage it, “and maybe have a bottle of your favourite Champagne ready for dessert?”

“Of course!” they said excitedly, “we would be happy to do that. Anything you need”

“Thank you,” you smiled again, blushing slightly, “but you don’t have to go out of your way. I don’t want to make anything difficult”

“We will make it an unforgettable night, Monsieur”

“Thank you. We’ll see you at 6″

“See you then!” You imagined that as soon as you ended the call, they were frantically trying to get things sorted so that you had everything you needed and you just hoped it wasn’t too much for (Y/N), who you could now hear searching through her closet for a dress to wear

“You’ll look beautiful in anything you choose” you flirted, heading to your closet to grab a suit

“But this is a nice place, B, we should look nice”

“And you will,” you replied, walking over to her after throwing your chosen suit on the bed, “because you look beautiful always.” You placed your arms around her waist as she continued to search her closet, kissing her cheek before leaving to get dressed, “I love you”

“Love you, too” she smiled, turning around to plant a light kiss on your lips before she shooed you away. When the two of you finally got to the restaurant, you were welcomed quickly and (Y/N) smiled awkwardly before whispering to you, “you called this in last minute didn’t you?”

“I would never. I always plan everything, to the smallest detail” you joked, nodded in appreciation to the hostess who showed you and (Y/N) to your table

“Liar” she teased

“Love you.”

The staff fell over him like he was made of gold and you could only laugh at how hard they were trying. The restaurant was beautiful and Brendan had managed to reserve the bay window where the stained glass stood; whether it was planned weeks in advance or just a few minutes, you were just happy to be out with him like this. It had been so long.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked

“Nothing,” you smiled, shaking your head, “I’m just wondering how you’d ever get by without all this attention...”

“Oh come on,” he chuckled, wiping his mouth with his napkin before placing it on his plate before the servers came to take away your dishes, “I’m not... it’s not that bad is it?”

“You like all this attention, I get it” you smirked, shrugging playfully

“How was everything?” your server asked

“It was great!” Brendan said quickly before ordering dessert for the two of you

“Oh, Bren, I’m so full... I don’t think we should get dessert..” you tried

“How about some Champagne?”

“Sure,” you smiled, “Champagne sounds nice.” The wait staff rushed to clear the table, leaving you to giggle at their eagerness, before you were being handed a crystal glass to clink with Brendan

“To you,” he started, “to us”

“To us” you repeated with a smile, taking a sip of the bubbly beverage, not realizing Brendan had gotten up from his seat until you were placing your glass back on the table, finding him kneeling on one knee. “No,” you thought to yourself, “please no. Not here, not like this...”

“(Y/N)...” he started

“Shit” you thought to yourself, a tear building in your eye as you already knew what you were about to say

“I love you more than I ever thought I could love somebody and we’ve definitely had our moments that made things difficult but in the end it was all worth it. Because we wound up stronger,”

“Brendan...” you tried to stop him

“We found each other when I think we both needed it and I could not be more grateful for anyone in my life. When I think about my future, you’re the first thing I see. I want to share everything with you. The good, the bad, the in-between. I want us to share our lives together”

“B..” you sighed, closing your eyes as he reached into his pocket

“Will you marry me?” he asked, pulling out a small velvet box and revealing a diamond ring more beautiful than you could’ve imagined and you sat there in silence for a moment while the entire restaurant looked on. Any words struggled to escape your throat and your eyes just lingered on Brendan’s for a minute before you finally spoke

“No” you said quietly, wiping a tear from your eye and walking away, stopping only when he grabbed your arm lightly, light enough for you to pull it away. You made your way out of the restaurant and leaned against the wall before walking toward the apartment. You couldn’t believe you were here again, trying to navigate this relationship while on a completely different page than the person you were supposed to be figuring it out with. When you felt a drop of water fall on your skin, you groaned to yourself before hearing a car pull up behind you

“Get in,” Brendan called to you and you shook your head, “(Y/N), just get in the damn car” you stopped before walking to the passenger door and hopping into the seat

“Le--” you started but he just turned up the volume on the radio to tune you out, leading you to turn your face to stare out the window. He slammed the door as he got out of the car, leaving the front door to the apartment wide open and you took a deep breath before you walked inside, closing it slowly behind you

“WHAT THE HELL?!” he yelled

“Let me explain,” you started, “I’m sorry”

“Explain!”

“You can’t get mad at me. I get that you’re upset but don’t yell and go on like a child. Just listen to me”

“Fine” he huffed

“Why did you propose? I mean really, what made you think that it was a good time or that we were ready or that I would say yes?”

“Because we love each other?!” he said angrily

“Yes,” you sighed, “I love you but I never said I was ready to marry you”

“We talked about it…”

“Did we?” you countered, sitting across from him as he thought about his answer, “I found your scrapbook, we talked about the wedding. I let it go because I thought it was sweet that you even had the scrapbook in the first place but then when we talked about being married…”

“We talked about how nothing would change…”

“You talked about how nothing would change and how great that would be for you,” you argued, sighing before dropping your head to your hands, “I never said I wanted to get married or that I was ready to get married”

“You don’t want to marry me?” he asked sadly, a frown covering his features in a way you’d never seen before

“That’s not what I’m saying”

“Then what are you saying? You just humiliated me back there so I think I deserve the truth”

“I don’t… know,” you huffed, getting up and pacing away from him, “I don’t know. I love you, Brendan, you know that. I wouldn’t have agreed to try this again if I didn’t love you but it just I can’t marry you right now”

“Why not?!”

“Because nothing has changed!” you yelled back finally, letting your mouth drop open at your own admission, watching his eyebrows scrunch together as he took in what you were saying

“What do you mean..? What hasn’t changed?” he asked

“Why do you think we broke up in the first place, the first time?”

“I don’t know. You kept saying that we weren’t good for each other anymore and stuff like that…” you scoffed

“You’re right,” you said, knowing that you couldn’t deny that you had, in fact, said those words, “but what else did I say? Why would I have said that we weren’t good for each other?”

“I have no idea! I always thought we were good for each other.”

“You don’t listen! You think you have all the answers or that you can fix everything so easily but you can’t. Not everything can be fixed so quickly.”

“Fine. Okay, tell me now.” He insisted and you tilted your head, “I’m listening. I won’t say a word. I won’t try to fix it. Tell me now why you think we weren’t good for each other”

“The truth?” you asked once before he took your hand and sat you down next to him on the couch

“The truth”

“We drifted apart. We were so hopelessly in love when we first met and I know things got stressful for you because of how the seasons were going but you wouldn’t talk to me about it. At first, I thought it was fine. Like I’d give you your space and there was a reason you didn’t want me to know you were feeling shitty about the way things were going. But a few years later and you’re still not talking to me about it? We’re supposed to be a team, you’re supposed to be able to talk to me about the stress you have so I can take some of it from you but that wasn’t us. You kept your stress to yourself and I got frustrated and mad and I made brash decisions like that guy,” you sighed, turning your body slightly, your knees grazing his, “you didn’t have to be alone in all of it”

“I never felt like I was alone…” he said

“I did” you confessed, realizing that was the first time you had really said those words out loud. You did feel alone all those years. Every decision you made was because you felt like you were in the relationship without him and it still felt that way; especially when your idea of marriage was so different than his seemed to be. “I guess,” you said, biting the inside of your cheek nervously, “I ended things because I hated being your second-choice, I hated sharing you with this city, I hated not having an identity aside from... you” you took a minute so he could hear what you were saying but there was still more you wanted him to understand, “honestly, I think you like it that way...”

“What does that mean?”

“If I’m here for you, unconditionally, then I get to be one of these girlfriends that the city can accept. I won’t be a loose cannon or someone that brings drama. They’ll accept me and you’ll get to finally have all this acceptance that you crave"

"You think I crave acceptance?"

"Yes" you replied simply

"I don't.. think that's true" he stammered

"I don't know if it's because you're a small guy in the league and you feel like you have to constantly prove yourself," you said, shaking your head to yourself as you spoke before catching a glimpse of his scowl, "or if it has something to do with being the eldest sibling.. I don't know, but yeah, yeah I think you crave acceptance"

"What if I just crave your acceptance?"

"Brendan..." you sighed, "you've always had my acceptance. That's why it's not about me"

"So.. what does this mean?" he asked, head hung low

"I love you. I always have and I always will and I want to marry you someday but I can't sacrifice myself for you. I need to be able to work and go on vacations and have friends outside of the Habs Wives. I need to not feel like I belong to you," you said, taking his hand softly in yours so he would look at you, "we're not objects. We're people and I want us both to be treated that way"

"Me too" he smiled softly, leaning in to kiss your forehead

"Are you okay?" you asked, wincing a little as you looked at his still sad face

"I'm fine," he said, "a little embarrassed but it'll pass. I love you"

"I love you, too," you replied, smiling as you kissed the tip of his nose. "Hey," you continued, "don't give up on me okay?"

"I wouldn't dream of it" he smirked

"I just mean... keep asking"

"You got it, babe."

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