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thran-duils · 4 years ago

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Doll Me Up (P.10)

Title: Doll Me Up (Part Ten) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Tony Stark. On good days, you and Tony were a power couple. You, a perfect trophy wife with your hands in local charities to promote a wholesome image. Tony, business man but sullied with organized crime. He indulged in his illegal gambling, extortion, and political corruption. And he indulged in his escort business. Hell, that is where he had found you. You were a brat, and he loved a challenge. Words: 3,025 Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, smut, daddy kink, dom/sub, manipulation, death, violence, possessive behavior, drug use

Part Nine || Part Eleven || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

~A month ago (cont.)…

Tony walked into the bedroom, drawing your attention away from the TV.

“Thank god,” you groaned pathetically, tossing the body pillow you had been curled up with over yourself onto the ground. “Please snuggle with me. I haven��t felt good.”

“I know. But are you going to vomit?” Tony questioned, coming over to the side of the bed.

You rolled over onto your side to face him and said, “I don’t think so. I don’t feel so sick. I’m just tired.”

“Cause you know I don’t do well with that. The vomiting.”

You groaned again, throwing the blanket over your head. You just wanted him to get into bed and hold you and stop the talking.

Tony patted your hip impatiently. “Alright, dramatic. Come on. Up, up, up.”

“I don’t want to get up!” you said from underneath the comforter.

“Princess.”

“I want you to lie down with me, daddy.”

“I will, promise. Cross my heart. But business first. And that involves you getting up out of the bed.”

You whined, “What business? You just got back from business.”

“Y/N, get up,” Tony told you firmly. You knew that tone; he was not playing around anymore.

Sighing dramatically, you tossed the comforter back, looking up at him pitifully. He beckoned you with two fingers and you did as he asked. You shivered against the loss of the heat from the blanket, especially since you were just in a lounge bra and underwear.

He held out a small box and you took it from him. Your breath caught reading the label, staring dumbly down at the pregnancy test.

“What’s this for…?”

“I think it’s pretty obvious. The nausea that you’re feeling?”

Oh no.

Your mind raced with all the times the two of you had had unprotected sex recently. He had asked for it, seeming really into it, and you had obliged, wanting to turn him on. You knew it was a possibility of course, pregnancy. But you figured that problem could be solved fairly easy if it arose.

“Y/N?” Tony asked, interrupting your thoughts.

You turned your gaze up from the box and licked your lips nervously. Slapping the box on your other hand, you said, “Right. Nausea… sex. Pee on it.”

“Yeah, I think that’s generally how it works,” Tony confirmed, a smirk tugging at his lips at your stammering. “I’ll be out here.”

Grabbing your phone to keep the time, you turned away from him and made your way to the master bathroom reluctantly.

The three minutes seemed to take forever, and your hand was shaking when you turned the test back over.

I I

Your hand was gripping the test so tightly your knuckles were white as you stared down at the result.

Tony walked into the bathroom and asked from behind you, “Are you alright?”

“It’s positive,” you said sounding far away from yourself.

Tony looked over your shoulder at the test and you saw him smile in the mirror. Your face screwed into confusion seeing he looked… happy.

Tossing the test onto the counter, you made to turn to him. “Hey, love, there’s pee on that—”

“Why are you happy?” you demanded.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Tony asked, giving you an incredulous look. His hands came to your waist and he smiled. “Look at that. Making steps together.”

“W…what?” you stammered.

Tony hushed you with a deep kiss and he said, “This is wonderful news, kitten.” You tried to pull away from his grasp but he held tight, his face falling slightly at your resistance. “Really. It’s wonderful. I’ve been hoping for it actually. I think it’s the next step.”

“Having a baby?” you asked in disbelief.

His face fell completely now, his grasp letting up on your waist, and he stated flatly, “You’re not happy.”

“No! No, I’m not! I don’t…” you started to say trailing off. “We didn’t even talk about this!”

“What’s there to talk about? Shit like this happens all the time. Do you know how many unplanned pregnancies there are? Luckily for us though, we are in an established relationship, financially stable, in a good area for schools,” Tony started saying, listing off the positives. He noticed the look on your face and his hands left your waist to come up and cup your face. “Hey… look at me.” You did and his fingers caressed your skin affectionately. “This is a good thing for us.” One of his hands came to rest on your abdomen and he said sincerely, “Really. I want this for us. We can still have our fun and whatnot, cause I sure as hell don’t want to ever give that up. But this is a good growth for us. We’ve got the means to have the best of both worlds. That’s what nannies are for. Right?”

He sounded sincere, joyful about the prospect. And he was looking at you, desperately waiting for you to agree with him. Could it be so bad?

“It better be an ugly nanny,” you finally said.

Tony burst out laughing and brought your forehead to his lips. “Of course. The homeliest.”

<><><>

“Why is the fish of the day not priced?” you muttered.

“That’s pretty normal, Y/N. You should know that,” Tony commented back as the waiter brought the bottle of wine over that he had ordered. He thanked him, as the waiter poured the first glass for him and placed the bottle gently on the table. “We need a couple minutes.”

“Well, I want it, but I don’t know how much it costs.”

“It doesn’t matter. Only the best for you,” Tony told you, giving you a tight-lipped smile. There was something malicious lurking there, but you smiled back weakly all the same.

Happy shifted in his seat and you turned your attention towards him. He caught your eye and you stared at him silently for an explanation. He shrugged at you and you held back a sigh. Apparently you were going to have to prod yourself.

“What’s wrong?” you asked Tony.

He did not look up from the menu.

“Tony!” you said and that caught his attention, you using his real name. You rarely did it. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, wagging his finger at you. “I’m not having this conversation right now in the middle of a restaurant. What we are going to do is eat, enjoy each other’s company for lunch, and then we can go back to the penthouse.” You were silent, watching him and his gaze snapped up from the menu to look at you. “I’m serious, Y/N. I’m not talking about it here. So, drop it.”

“Okay,” you told him, fingers tapping on your menu.

He finished off his glass of wine and picked the bottle up, refilling it. You stared at the glass wanting to taste it but knowing you could not. The waiter came back and took your orders.

Tony and Happy fell into a hushed, masked conversation about an e-mail that Happy had just received. You looked around, seeing what other patrons were doing. Your gaze fell on a couple that had their baby in a highchair. The father was keeping it entertained with small toys, no doubt using a goofy voice based on his expression. Soon you would need to request a highchair. How old was that child? Definitely not an infant but not a toddler. You wondered if it could walk yet. What were you going to do when your baby started going mobile? Just having to chase it down constantly? Would it be well behaved?

Suddenly, you noticed a fairly attractive man was watching you from a few tables over from the couple. He smirked when he noticed he had caught your eye and he winked. You furrowed your brow in annoyance at his boldness considering you were obviously out with one of the men at the table. At your cold response you watched his smile falter for a moment before he looked at the empty seat next to him. You rolled your eyes and looked away from him back at the table to find Tony and Happy watching you intently. Had they been trying to talk to you and you had not heard?

Tony shot a quick look at the guy before looking back at you and you realized they much have caught that exchange just now.

“He seems like a prick,” you said calmly, picking up your water and taking a long drink.

“That he does,” Tony replied. “Good thing you aren’t tempted by twenties anymore, huh?”

He took a large drink of his wine and you watched him warily.

There was definitely something off about him. But you were going to follow his rule and enjoy lunch, not prod. The way he was acting, you were going to heed his warning that he did not want to have whatever conversation the two of you were going to have out in public. But now all you could do was worry about what type of conversation that was going to be.

<><><>

Tony unzipped his jacket and tossed it onto the back of the couch as he walked by towards his bar. You followed him, kicking your heels off by the couch too. You stretched out your feet, relishing in the flat ground.

Tony smacked his lips after taking a sip of his bourbon – you noticed it was the bottle you had bought for him – as he walked back towards the couch, past you. He sat back, stretching out.

You came up beside him and sat down, trying to curl up into his side, tucking your feet underneath a pillow. He did not return your embrace, instead bringing his glass to his lips again and taking another drink. He was good and toasted now. He had had the entire bottle of wine to himself, minus a glass that Happy had, at lunch.

“Daddy, seriously. What’s wrong?” you asked him tired of going back and forth.

He ground his teeth for a few moments, and you worried he was not going to speak to you. But he shifted, a little away from you, which hurt more. “Uh, I don’t know. Just… I’ve got a million things running through my mind.”

“About?” you asked.

“About what type of plans you have rolling around in that beautiful – albeit, deceitful – little head of yours.”

Your heart skipped a beat hearing the sneer in his voice and you had a feeling where you knew this conversation was going and you hoped to god it was not.

“’Plans’?” you asked uncertainly.

He leveled you with a scathing look that made you stiffen beneath it. “Yeah, ‘plans’. Like, do you have one? A fully fledged one? Were you just going to sneak off one day while I was gone and go get an abortion? Or were you planning on asking for adoption near when the baby is due?”

Your stomach sunk hearing that. He was watching you closely and you knew you were not masking your shock at his questions.

“Hmm. You look surprised, princess, that I would be saying this. Or are you not surprised and that’s just shock that I know?”

“Pepper told you?” your voice cracked.

Tony gave a wry chortle. “Of course she did. I mean, she had some persuasion because Happy happened to overhear the conversation the two of you were slinking around about.” You inhaled; you knew he had, and he had acted like he had not. “Granted, she was kind of backed into a corner about it. But she wants to stay on the board, so why would she not want to stay on my good side? By telling me my wife is scheming behind my back?”

“I’m not scheming!” you said indignantly, trying to pull away from him. But his arm wrapped tightly around your back, pulling you roughly to him. His bourbon sloshed in his glass in his other hand.

“You want me to agree to either getting rid or giving our baby away, but you won’t talk to me about it. You went behind my back to do try to get someone else to do it for you!” Tony growled.

“Because you would get mad at me!” you told him, sounding pathetic more than anything.

“I’m more mad now, Y/N!” Tony shouted, causing you to jump. His fingers dug into your side as he continued on, “We talked about this. I told you why I thought it was a good thing and you seemed to agree. And I should emphasize the ‘seem’ because you apparently were already putting on an act then. I shouldn’t be surprised about that though because you are a damn good little actress, princess. And you fucking love pushing my buttons!” He yanked you closer and said, his breath hot, “Let me be very clear that this is not something to try to press my buttons about. I am not fucking around about that.”

You tried to pull away from him and his fingers dug in deeper, causing you to wince. “I wasn’t trying to press your buttons, daddy!” you whimpered.

“You could have fooled me! You’ve been nothing but misbehaving at every opportunity!”

You felt it boiling to the surface and you just blurted, “You’re going to leave me! I know you are!”

Tony’s face screwed up in confusion and you took the opportunity to unravel yourself from the lax he gave on his grip on you and pulled away to the other end of the couch. You were breathing quickly, staring at him, waiting for him to say something. Anything.

He leaned forward and you watched him like a hawk as he placed his glass down on the coffee table before coming back to sit straight, his gaze piercing.

With some difficulty he asked, “You really think I’m going to leave you?” All you gave was a slight shrug and he said, “Why?” Your lashes brushed your cheek as you looked down and Tony pressed with more force, “Why? Answer me.”

It was hard to admit to him about your insecurity and you word vomited, “I don’t want to be a mum! That’s so much responsibility!”

Tony sighed, “You don’t have to shoulder all of it. What made you think you had to?”

“I… I am the mum. I have to. It’s on me.” You knew that was a lie. You had seen that father in the restaurant today doing just fine while the mum was scrolling through her phone, writing things down in a notebook.

“Kitten, come on. We talked about a nanny. You think I don’t want to take trips with you still, childfree?” He leaned in and said firmly, “But that’s not why you think I’m going to leave you, is it?” You stared down at the couch, picking at the fabric and he demanded, “Kitten.”

Pepper had told him; she must have told him everything. And he wanted to hear it from your lips.

In a voice barely above a whisper, you said still not looking up at him, “I’m not going to be the same. My stomach is gonna get really big and I’m gonna get stretch marks. My boobs will sag if I breastfeed…”

Tony was quiet for a few moments before he said, “Your body will be fine. Bodies change. But if you feel insecure we can talk about surgery.”

You looked up now, your brow pinched. “If ‘I feel insecure’?”

“Yes. Breast lifts, tummy tucks. Whatever will make you feel better. It’ll be up to you what and if you want to do any of that. I want you to be comfortable. It’s up to you.”

Tears came then and you did not try to stop them as they rolled fat down your cheeks. He was suggesting to get plastic surgery to correct all the damage the baby was going to do to you. The damage you expected. Like it was going to wave it all away; all the insecurity you had. And he sounded like he did not have any concern about it. It was you.

Choking out, you told him, “I don’t want to be unattractive. You only married me because of my looks.”

His face fell at that, you saw through your tears. He looked… pained.

“That’s what you really think isn’t it?” Tony could see it in your eyes and warbling bottom lip as you tried to hold it together. All the fight left him, it finally sinking in. “Oh, princess…”

Tony closed the space between the two of you on the couch, pressing in between your knees to get closer to you. He kissed you all over your face, ending at your lips. The kisses were tender, lingering. He tasted of his bourbon and you drank it in all the same. It was a comforting embrace he was giving you, a sincere one. You wanted to believe him so badly that everything was going to be okay.

Pressing your foreheads together, he held you close. He whispered, “You’ll always be beautiful.” He kissed the tip of your nose affectionately. “And mothers’ glow. Didn’t you know? You’ll be like an ethereal being.” You let out a strained laugh, hiccupping. Tony pulled you in for another kiss and he breathed against your lips as he said, “I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t voice this to me. I know I’m an asshole sometimes and I don’t always express myself well, but… that shouldn’t keep you from talking to me about this. I should do better… I’m sorry.”

His hand came to rest on your stomach, and you breathed into his touch. He kissed the tip of your nose and said, “You’re doing me a favor. Really. I know I haven’t expressed it well. But, you are. You’re giving me stability. And yes, your looks are what drew me in but it’s you that made me want to stick around after that. Do you understand that?” You gave a weak nod and he repeated his eyes glossy, “Do you understand that?”

“Yes, daddy,” you said, and you let him pull you to him again to cradle you.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21, @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @kvzctam @farihafangirls, @teenageregression @mrsnegan25 @lilacs-lavender @agustdowney @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @emmariexx

#tony stark x reader #dark tony stark #dark marvel #dark marvel fic #mob tony stark #my shit

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sohotthateveryonedied · 5 years ago

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Slipping Through My Fingers

Read here on AO3!

When it comes to his children, Bruce has very few regrets. He loves them completely, scars and all. He wouldn’t want to change a single part of them.

But he can’t lie and say that he doesn’t regret the timing with which each of these beautiful souls entered his life. Bruce has six children, but he’s never had a baby, and isn’t that wrong? Isn’t that a pity? He missed so much of their lives—so many milestones that every parent wants to remember forever but that he’s not even had glimpses of. He wasn’t there for the first steps or the lost teeth or learning how to ride a bike. He missed all of his children learning to talk, missed watching Sesame Street with them in the morning and making soapy mohawks in the bathtub. Bruce missed everything. He missed moments that he can’t get back, no matter how hard he yearns for a rewind. Take him back. Return to him the moments he lost without even knowing it until they’d already slipped through his fingers. Bruce has a few mementos to get him by, but they only grant him glimpses of the years he missed. Dick has a bin of old tapes from the Flying Graysons’ best performances that he likes to watch on bad days. Occasionally he’ll let Bruce watch with him. There’s something magical about watching the young boy in the tapes swing on the trapeze and pull gravity-defying moves, all the while knowing what a strong man that boy will one day become. Jason came to the manor with very little, having to travel light while on the streets. There’s a shoebox under the bed in his old room salvaged from his mother’s things, containing a handful of photos from Jason’s toddler years, a stuffed animal or two, some loose possessions. Bruce used to go through them after Jason’s death, just to give himself something to hold on to. Tim had more than Dick and Jason combined: plenty of photos, report cards, baby teeth, and coloring books all saved in storage. But as much as there was, Bruce still only had glimpses of the real Tim. Every family photo was stiff, like an assortment of plastic dolls. The papers and drawings that have been collected are too crisp, like they were shoved into a childhood folder and forgotten about without a second glance, not even making it to the refrigerator. All Bruce has of Cass’ childhood are videotapes of training sessions. He refuses to watch them, for both her sake and his own. Duke has a photo album he keeps in his bedroom, compiling plenty of baby pictures and family vacations. He’s only shown it to Bruce once. Otherwise, he keeps it in his bookshelf, untouched but for the handful of times he’s visited his parents, showing them old memories in case it will miraculously jog something and put the shards of them back together. The longer it doesn’t work, the less he’s willing to tell. The League of Assassins has an entire storage room of files on Damian’s development. Bruce has seen it. It’s like every move the boy made was monitored and catalogued, detailed without so much as a lick of emotion to remind anyone that this was a child being discussed. There were no shiny milestones to celebrate, only completed stages. No one commemorated his first word or first time seeing a butterfly, but his first time using a wakizashi sword earned five entire pages. If Bruce could go back in time, he would snatch up every one of his children and give them the lives they deserve, right from the start. No pain. No dead parents. No neglect, no heartache, no scavenging on the streets just to survive the night. He would wipe their slates clean if it meant he could stave off their suffering, just for a little while longer. He would do anything to go back.

Back when Bruce was a child and tragedy hadn’t yet torn his family to bloody shreds, there was one Fourth of July on which his parents took him to the circus. Alfred had an open invitation to accompany them, but, being a Brit, he politely declined from the day’s festivities. “I’ll have you know, young sir, that I served as a spy for the British forces and mentored Alexander Hamilton during his teenage years.” Bruce was ninety-nine percent sure that Alfred wasn’t alive during the American Revolution. That day was the first time Bruce had been to the circus. It was a local one, small with very few extravagant spectacles, but his father bought him peanuts and afterward the three of them watched the fireworks in Gotham Park. It was a day that imprinted itself on Bruce’s memory, sticking with him long after they were gone. So when he sees a flyer announcing that Haly’s International Traveling Circus is visiting Metropolis on the same day Bruce has an interview with Lois Lane for some column on America’s wealthiest men, how can he turn the opportunity down? The air is warmed by summer rays, the entire field radiating Metropolis’ natural brightness. The scent of peanuts and popcorn wafts from all sides and the classic tinkling circus music fills his ears. The show doesn’t start for another half hour, so Bruce settles on walking around, unsure of what to do with himself. He should get some photos to bring home for Alfred. He’s always had a fascination with jugglers. After some perusing, Bruce pulls up under a tree, shaded against the thick trunk. He’s just pressed send on the pictures to Alfred when he hears a voice from above. “Hey, mister.” Bruce looks up to discover a boy perched on a tree branch two feet above his head. The kid looks around six years old with black hair that curls around his ears. He’s wearing a bright red and green costume—obviously one of the performers. How a child his age came to be part of the circus, Bruce can’t begin to guess. He’s missing his front teeth and his skin, tan with a honey glow, makes his nationality hard to place. Bruce blinks up at the boy. “Hello.” The kid drops down and catches on the branch with his hands, dangling with his bare feet kicking in the air. “Whatcha doing here?” Now that he’s paying attention, Bruce can detect the slightest accent. Romani, perhaps? “Why does anyone come to the circus?” The boy laughs. “You don’t look like the kind of person who goes to the circus.” “Then what kind of person do I look like?” The boy thinks, swinging back and forth like a cartoon monkey. How his hands aren’t scraped raw from gripping the rough bark, Bruce doesn’t know. “A lawyer, maybe. Or a president.” The corner of Bruce’s mouth lifts. “I’m neither of those things, unfortunately.” “Well, I’m an acrobat.” “I can see that.” “But I do other stuff too,” the kid tells him, “like I know how to juggle and how to walk on stilts and how to throw knives at targets. I’m getting real good at that.” “Are you sure a kid your age should be playing with knives?” The boy laughs. “You think knives are scary? You should see it when they let me play with the tigers.” Bruce arches an eyebrow. “You play with tigers?” That can’t be safe. Maybe he should have a talk with the ringmaster and make sure someone is ensuring that no little boy heads are getting bitten off by mighty jaws. “Oh yeah, the tigers are the best.” The kid swings his body upward, letting go of the branch and pulling a heart-stopping somersault midair as he falls. He lands on his feet without a wobble. “I know all of their names and they’re huge, like they’re this big”—he stretches out his arms as far as they will go, which makes the tigers a whopping two and a half feet tall—”and sometimes I’m even allowed to ride them!” Bruce leans back against the tree trunk, crossing his arms with a smile. “Is that right?” “Yeah!” The kid then launches into a string of chatter, so fast that it takes all of Bruce’s focus to keep up. He tells Bruce all about the circus’ tigers: what breed they are, how many they have, what they eat, what their names are (their actual names and the names the kid gave them; Marshmallow is his favorite), and how his dad once gave him permission to hold a hoop while a tiger leapt through it. The entire time, Bruce can’t help but wonder, is this what childhood is supposed to be like? Swinging on tree branches and giving oral reports about your favorite animals to complete strangers? Is this what growing up is like for normal children? Bruce doesn’t know whether to be envious of this little boy or concerned. He’s so innocent; it bleeds from every grin. There’s nothing weighing this kid down—literally and figuratively—and Bruce finds himself silently praying to a being he doesn’t believe in that it never changes. Let this kid stay pure, untouched by the evils of the world. Let him go his whole life swinging on branches and talking about tigers without a single setback. After a good ten minutes when the boy’s tumbled into a handstand and has moved on to tell Bruce about his favorite elephant Zitka, a feminine voice rings, “There you are, Dick. I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” A beautiful woman approaches the pair, wearing an identical red and green leotard. She’s got matching black hair and blue eyes—too spitting of an image to be anyone but his mother. “Come on, sweetheart, we’re supposed to be backstage.” “Sorry, Mom,” Dick says, turning right-side up, but he hasn’t lost his grin. Now that he thinks of it, Bruce doesn’t recall it waning once in the entire time they’ve been talking. She takes in Bruce, suit and all, and plasters on a stage smile, sticking out her hand. “Mary Grayson. You’ll have to forgive my son, he gets excited easily. He’ll talk your ear off for hours if you let him.” But the glimmer in her eye gives Bruce an inclination that she has no problem being an audience for her son’s happy rants. Bruce shakes her hand. “Bruce. I take it you’re the Flying Graysons I’ve been hearing so much about?” “The very same. I hope you’ll be seeing our show tonight.” “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He winks at the littlest Grayson, who beams. Mary ruffles Dick’s hair. “Well, this little robin and I should be getting ready now. It was a pleasure meeting you, Bruce.” “Likewise.” He leans down and shakes Dick’s small hand. “And if you ever come to Gotham, maybe you can tell me more about those tigers, eh?” Dick looks like he contains the sun itself. He’s sunshine incarnate. “Definitely!” He drags his feet when his mom starts leading him away, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. “Bye, Mr. Bruce!” He waves his hand like a windmill of its hinges, and Bruce can’t help but return it. Bruce hasn’t felt this content in a long time to the point where he has to stop in wonderment of it. It’s unlikely that Haly’s will end up coming to a place like Gotham anytime soon, but Bruce hopes for it anyway. After all, Gotham could use some sunshine.

Here’s the rest of it on AO3 because I don’t feel like formatting all 7,000 words on here lmao.

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mikauzoran · 4 years ago

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Lukadrien: Zebras Can’t Change Their Stripes: Chapter Seven

Read it on AO3: Zebras Can’t Change Their Stripes: Chapter Seven

“Aren’t you done yet?” Luka half laughed, half groaned, banging his head against the bathroom door.

“Perfection takes time,” Adrien informed primly from within. “It’s my first show. I want to make a good impression.”

Luka clicked his tongue. “Perfect Fifth, they’re going to love you, but you take longer in the bathroom than my ex, and I still need to do my makeup.”

There was a beat before Adrien tentatively asked, “…Are we at a point where we can make jokes about your ex?”

Luka contemplated this for a moment and winced, admitting, “No. No, I actually don’t think we are.”

“…Okay. That’s okay,” Adrien assured, opening the bathroom door.

Luka, still resting his head against the door in question, nearly fell over into Adrien.

Afterwards, he was equal parts glad and disappointed that he hadn’t crashed into his roommate because, if he had, Luka would not have been able to control himself.

As things stood, Luka got an eyeful of Adrien in ripped, black skinny jeans and punk couture topped off with messy, wild hair and a generous helping of eyeliner.

Luka’s temperature shot through the roof as all the blood in his body rushed south.

A frown slowly knitted Adrien’s eyebrows together as he watched his friend closely for a reaction and didn’t seem to get a positive one.

“…How…do I look?” he pressed tentatively, beginning to shift his weight uneasily back and forth, fidgeting under Luka’s intense gaze.

Luka was preoccupied with fantasies of pushing Adrien up against a wall and sticking his tongue down Adrien’s throat.

…Better yet, Adrien pushing Luka up against a wall and sticking his tongue down Luka’s throat.

“Is it that bad?” Adrien demanded, beginning to panic as he took the shocked silence the wrong way. “Did I put on too much eyeliner? I’m sorry. I should have asked for your help, but I thought I knew what I was doing because I’ve seen the way you dress, so I thought—”

“—Sorry. What?” Luka cut him off, managing to shake himself loose from his daydreams. “I’m sorry. I spaced for a minute there. What are we talking about?”

Adrien blinked twice slowly. “…Um… Do I look bad? You were staring.”

“Oh! No! Nonono,” Luka assured, waving his hands in an attempt to clear up the misunderstanding. “Sorry. NO. You look great. I was just…”

Some of the blood deigned to come back up into his face to make him look like a cherry tomato.

He cleared his throat. “Sorry. I’m a little out of it. You look perfect. I love you—your eyeliner. And the hair,” Luka covered, mentally smacking himself.

“Oh,” Adrien responded uncertainly. “Thank you? I was kind of going for a Chat Noir vibe.”

“You look amazing.” Luka finally got it together and replied with an earnest smile. “You really nailed it. Jacob and Josie are going to coo and fuss over you.”

“Are you going to coo and fuss over me?” Adrien hummed, resting his forearm on the wall and leaning so that he very much resembled Chat Noir: lithe and predatory and very dangerous to Luka’s sanity in such tight clothing.

“I don’t think your ego really needs it,” Luka countered, “but I’ll consider it if you don’t make us late and we have a few minutes before we need to leave for the show.”

Adrien pulled out his phone and winced at the time. “Looks like my ego will have to wait to be stroked because we’re cutting it close as is.”

“Pity,” Luka sighed, not sure if he’d dodged a bullet or been deprived of an opportunity.

True to Luka’s word, Josie and Jacob did, in fact, coo and fuss over Adrien when he and Luka arrived at the bar where they’d be playing.

“Look at him!” Jacob exclaimed, showing Adrien to Marc like a prize being revealed on a gameshow. “He’s so precious! He looks like a real baby punk!”

Josie shot Luka a lascivious grin and quietly teased, “So, how are you holding up with him wearing those pants?”

Luka took her by surprise by answering honestly: “I’m going out of my freaking mind. Thank you for asking.”

The smirk promptly dropped off of Josie’s face to be replaced by a look of concern. “Luc, are you okay?”

Luka shook his head. “Adrien is the guy Marinette never got over, and Adrien had feelings for her too in the past, so when they meet up again, I can only guess at what will happen.”

Josie winced. “That…really sucks.”

“Yeah, so there’s no point in letting my feelings for him come back only so he can break my heart too,” Luka sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Kind of hard with him looking like that.”

“Everything okay?” Marc called out, drawing Jacob and Adrien’s attention to Luka.

Adrien’s eyes narrowed, and he came over to touch Luka’s cheeks and forehead, testing for fever. “Are you still feeling out of it, Orpheus? You do feel a little warm.”

Adrien’s hands on Luka’s skin only served to make Luka’s temperature jump an additional degree or two.

“I’ll be all right. Thanks,” Luka lied, slipping out of Adrien’s reach. “Probably just a twenty-four-hour bug. I’m going to go start the equipment check.”

Jacob opened his mouth to comment, but Josie caught him by the sleeve and whispered in his ear.

Marc quirked an eyebrow, and Josie repeated what Luka had told her for him as well.

Collectively, the group grimaced.

“What’s going on, guys?” Adrien inquired, looking back and forth worriedly between Luka’s retreating back and the rest of their bandmates.

“He’s just feeling a little depressed and hopeless right now,” Marc explained with a sad but kind smile. “We’ll have to figure out some way to make him feel better and lighten up a bit.”

“We should do something fun together,” Jacob agreed, going to sling an arm around Adrien’s shoulders. “No need to worry about it now, though. Right now, we just need to get through the show.”

Adrien nodded as Jacob led him over to the equipment to prepare for the performance.

“That was amazing!” Josie squealed, throwing her arms around Adrien as soon as they made it off stage.

“I can’t believe we pulled that off without a hitch,” Jacob laughed giddily, carding a hand through his spikey hair.

Marc rolled his eyes, giving everyone pats on the back. “I mean, we have been practicing every day this week for hours.”

“Still, Adrien was incredible,” Luka chimed in, giving Adrien’s arm a squeeze. “That was flawless.”

“Not completely flawless,” Adrien protested sheepishly. “But thank you. Seriously. Everyone…”

He looked around at his bandmates with an enormous, grateful grin. “Thank you so much for your patience with me this week. Thank you for letting me be a part of your group. This was really a team effort, and I never could have done it without you.”

“Aww. He’s so modest,” Jacob chuckled, pulling Adrien into a side hug and ruffling his hair.

“You could have managed without Jacob,” Josie snickered, giving the bassist a teasing elbow.

“Josephine, play nice,” Marc sighed in exasperation, shaking his head with a fond smile.

“We should celebrate!” Josie announced, pointedly ignoring Marc’s reprimand. “Who wants to get some drinks and dance?”

“Me!” Jacob’s hand shot up, and he proceeded to bounce up and down in place. “Me-me! Me!”

Luka winced. “I…can’t. I drove over here, and I need to be able to get Adrien home safe.”

“I could get you guys home,” Marc volunteered. “I need to bow out so I can go tuck my little girl in, but I can come back later and drive you home.”

“Hold up,” Adrien demanded. “You have a daughter?”

“I’m surprised he hasn’t shown you pictures yet,” Josie scoffed.

“Her name is Antoinette,” Marc gushed, beaming with pride. “She’s two years old, and she’s the best thing I’ve done in my entire life.” He whipped out his phone and navigated to his photos.

“Aww,” Adrien cooed as he looked at the picture of a pale toddler with ink black hair and even darker eyes in a green party dress with her arms wrapped around a fluffy white Maltese. “Marc, she’s adorable!”

“Thank you,” Marc preened. “I wish I could take the credit, but that’s all my wife Wakana.”

“Her smile is yours, though,” Adrien observed.

“You are the sweetest thing,” Marc laughed, patting Adrien on the shoulder before turning to Luka. “I should be back in about an hour, but you can stay later, if you feel like it. You feeling emotionally well enough to drink responsibly?”

Luka’s teeth sank into his bottom lip. “Maybe?” he fibbed.

Honestly, he was on the edge and could easily go either way. It could turn out to be a fun night with friends or the start of another drunken grief spiral.

Marc pursed his lips.

“Don’t fret so much,” Jacob chided, clicking his tongue as he slung his arm around Luka’s shoulders. “You’re no fun, Maman. I’ll look after Luc.”

“This does not inspire confidence,” Marc sighed.

“I’ll keep an eye on Luka,” Adrien volunteered. “I don’t drink, so I can play babysitter and make sure everyone’s okay until you get back, Marc.”

“Thank you,” Marc replied, only slightly exaggerating his relief. “I feel better leaving an adult in charge.”

“You don’t drink?” Josie pressed, ignoring Marc’s slight as she looped her arm through Adrien’s.

Adrien shook his head and smiled in embarrassment. “Yeah…I kind of don’t like not being in control. It’s dangerous, making yourself vulnerable like that. It would be different if we were somewhere safe and it was just people I trusted, but…”

Josie’s eyes narrowed. “Chéri, are you okay? Who hurt you?”

Adrien shrugged, averting his gaze, still not quite ready to admit that he’d been on the streets until just a few days prior.

Luka broke away from Jacob and went to Adrien’s side, resting a hand on his shoulder and looking him in the eye intently. “We don’t have to stay, if you’re uncomfortable. Just say the word, and I’ll take you home. It’s totally fine, Perfect Fifth. I don’t mind, honestly.”

“No, no,” Adrien assured, waving away Luka’s concern with one hand. “It’s good. I’m not uncomfortable, but thank you so much for always being so considerate. I appreciate it. No, I like dancing, so I have no problem hanging out with everyone.”

Luka let go of the breath he’d been holding, and the tension slowly faded from his body. “Okay. Good. Just let me know if you start feeling uncomfortable, though. Any time. I want to make sure you feel safe.”

Adrien smiled brightly, gratitude and affection filling his eyes. “Thank you.”

“Can we meditate for a moment on the fact that he calls him ‘Perfect Fifth’?” Jacob demanded, unable to hold in his laughter. “That is the sappiest thing, and I’m kind of jealous because I never got a cute pet name like that when I was dating him.”

“Ouch,” Adrien snickered, pulling away from Josie to wrap his arms possessively around Luka. “Sucks to be you. Guess Luka just loves me more.”

Marc shoot Luka a pitying look as he wondered if it were really okay to let Luka drink that night after all.

Meanwhile, Jacob cackled. “Ow! I am wounded. Even more so because it’s probably true.”

“So…if you’re Luka’s perfect fifth,” Josie puzzled, “does that make Luka your tonic?”

Adrien hummed softly in thought, not noticing as Luka tried not to spontaneously combust in mortification.

Not for the first time, Luka thanked the heavens that he was taller than Adrien so that Adrien couldn’t see the look on Luka’s face as Adrien embraced him.

“I mean…yeah,” Adrien replied softly, resting his head on Luka’s chest. “Luka’s always been my ‘tonal center’ in a way. Whenever I felt frazzled or lost as a teen, I knew I could go to him to help me find my way again…so I guess he is my tonic.”

“Aww,” Josie cooed. “That’s adorable. I was teasing, but you are just too cute.”

“Yeah,” Jacob sighed with a shrug. “I know when I’ve been beat. You win, Adrien. I could never say something that gooey with a straight face. You and Luka deserve each other.”

Adrien made a move to pull back to reply, but Luka hugged him in tighter, afraid that how he felt for Adrien was written plainly all over his face and that if Adrien saw it, he wouldn’t feel comfortable sharing a flat with Luka anymore.

“Sorry,” Luka whispered, burying his face in Adrien’s hair. “That’s…That’s really sweet. It means a lot to me that you think of me that way.”

“Of course,” Adrien chuckled, not minding the affection in the least. “You’re one of the few people in my life I’ve always been able to count on.”

“Okay, seriously,” Josie huffed. “Who hurt you? Who do I need to go beat up?”

Adrien broke away from Luka and turned to placate Josie. “It’s really not that bad. Please don’t assault anyone on my behalf.”

Luka turned away and quickly attempted to compose himself.

Marc gave him a questioning look, a silent offer of assistance, but Luka shook his head.

Jacob quirked an eyebrow.

“I reserve my right to assault whoever I determine deserves it,” Josie insisted indignantly, reaching out to ruffle Adrien’s hair.

Adrien gave up and submitted to Josie’s attentions with a small sigh and a reluctant smile. “Thank you, but I really am fine.”

“You’ll never convince her of that,” Luka informed, briskly changing the subject. “Let’s go get some drinks, shall we?”

Luka had regrets.

At that moment, his regrets were named Whiskey and Adrien.

More specifically, Adrien’s dancing.

Adrien dancing like that while wearing skinny jeans that reminded Luka how he had worshipped Chat Noir’s butt back in the day.

Luka didn’t really dance, but Jacob and Adrien had hit the dance floor, and seeing them together made Luka irrationally jealous, so he’d gone over there and started dancing with Adrien…and the alcohol in Luka’s blood was trying to convince him that it would be a good idea to tug Adrien in gently so that their bodies were pressed flush together and then kiss him for all he was worth.

Objectively, Luka knew that this was a very, very bad plan…but the way Adrien was swiveling his hips gave Luka ideas that would be easier to shake if he were sober.

And Luka was not sober.

“Where did you learn to dance?” he asked over the music in an attempt to distract himself from the bad ideas.

Adrien’s face flushed. “Mostly Chloé. She had alternating phases where she was really obsessed with pole dancing, belly dancing, and burlesque.”

“Oh,” Luka replied dumbly.

“Alya taught me a little too, though. Nino tried, but our styles are different,” Adrien elaborated, body flowing like liquid to the beat as he spoke. “I don’t think all of my lessons in ballroom and Latin dance count, but…I’m sure you’ll recognize where I stole this cute butt wiggle from.”

Luka did indeed recognize Marinette’s patented butt wiggle, and it made him feel all kinds of things he didn’t want to feel.

“Is that Marc over by the bar?” Luka asked, craning his neck as if trying to get a better view.

Adrien frowned and stopped dancing to look too. “…I don’t…think I see him?”

“I think that was him,” Luka lied. “You go ahead and keep dancing with Jacob and Josie. I’m going to meet up with Marc and take a seat.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Adrien inquired uncertainly. “Want me to walk you?”

Luka shook his head, needing to get away so that he could stop feeling so much. “Nah. He’s just over there. I can make it across the room by myself. You keep having fun, Angel.”

“O…Okay,” Adrien replied, still uneasy as Luka smiled reassuringly before turning to go.

Luka was quickly swallowed up by the crowd, and Adrien couldn’t quite relax after losing sight of him.

Luka made a beeline for the bar, numbing himself with more alcohol.

Fortunately, Marc really did show up within a few minutes and found Luka before too much harm could be done.

“I take it the evening took a turn for the worse?” Marc sighed, gently taking Luka’s glass away from him.

Luka groaned, resting his forehead on the counter. “I’m in love with him. I never stopped loving him, and now he’s going to start dating Marinette, and I’m going to have to pretend to be okay with this, to be happy for them, and I can’t do it. I can’t do this.”

“I think you’re catastrophizing,” Marc informed softly, reaching out to rub soothing circles between Luka’s shoulder blades. “I know it feels hopeless now, but hang in there, okay? Things will look a little less dark in the morning. You’re going to get through this.”

Luka shook his head.

“Shhh,” Marc cooed, giving Luka’s shoulder a squeeze. “Yes, you will. You’re strong, Luc. You’re tough, and you’re going to make it if I have to drag you out the other side.”

“What happened?!” Adrien gasped, stunned at the state he found Luka in fifteen minutes later.

Marc winced. “I think the alcohol suddenly hit him all at once.”

“Luka, are you okay?!” Adrien was at his side, fussing and carrying on, in seconds.

“No,” Luka moaned.

“He’ll be okay in the morning,” Marc promised through a doubtful grimace. “Or…at least by tomorrow evening. He just needs to throw up and sleep it off.”

Marc’s reassuring words did nothing to loosen Adrien’s pinched frown.

“Don’t worry,” Marc soothed, reaching out to rest a hand on Adrien’s upper arm. “He’s going to be okay. Trust me.”

Slowly, tentatively, Adrien nodded.

They packed Josie and Jacob into a cab to Josie’s house to take care of one another for the night and then loaded Luka into the backseat of Luka’s car, most of his weight supported by Adrien.

“You’re beautiful,” Luka purred as he played dazedly with Adrien’s hair. “So pretty.”

“Thank you,” Adrien replied self-consciously, not sure how to respond. “You’re pretty too.”

“You’re going to-to hurt me,” Luka chuckled darkly.

Adrien gave a start. “No, I’m not. I would never do anything to hurt you, Luka.”

“Not on purpose,” Luka hummed, dropping his head to Adrien’s shoulder. “Not on purpose…porpoise.” He laughed at that.

“Not on porpoise,” Adrien agreed, still feeling like he was on shaky ground.

“…I love you,” Luka snickered, giving Adrien’s neck a wet kiss.

Adrien gasped, his nerve endings lighting up as his stomach flipped involuntarily.

It wasn’t like the other times Luka had said those words or given Adrien a platonic kiss on the cheek or temple or forehead. It felt different and wrong and right all at the same time.

Adrien wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

“I…I love you too, Luka,” Adrien answered in the most conversational tone he could manage.

Luka only laughed, further unsettling Adrien.

When they got back to the apartment building, it took both Marc and Adrien to awkwardly trundle Luka up the stairs, down the hall, and into his bedroom.

That accomplished, Marc turned to Adrien with a delicate smile.

Adrien recognized it as the kind of smile he’d often received when the person smiling was about to attempt to manage Adrien.

His defences automatically went up.

“I think I’ve got it from here,” Marc informed with a tired sigh. “Thanks for your help.”

Adrien blinked, thrown off balance. “Uh…you’re welcome. I was actually about to say the same thing to you. I think I’m okay now, if you want to go home.”

Marc shook his head. “It’s okay, Adrien. I’ll stay with him.”

It sounded like a polite implication that Adrien should leave, and Adrien wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Luka had repeated over and over again that this was Adrien’s home now as much as Luka’s, but, suddenly, Adrien was feeling like an intruder all over again.

He turned to Luka. “Orpheus, do you want me to stay with you, or do you want Marc?”

“Marc can stay,” Luka grumbled out from under the arm he had tossed over his face. “Go ahead and go to bed, Perfect Fifth.”

Adrien pulled away, averting his gaze and wrapping his arms around himself. “Well…okay, then. I guess I’m no use here, so…um…I’ll just be in the other room if you need help finding things or something.”

“Thank you, Adrien. I’m pretty familiar with the house, though,” Marc replied with a strained smile.

“Right. Of course,” Adrien muttered, cheeks bursting into flames of humiliation. “Sorry. I’ll just…I’ll get out of your way.”

He’d gotten halfway to the door before Marc caught up and caught Adrien by the shoulder.

“You are not in the way, Adrien,” Marc assured gently, quietly so that Luka wouldn’t hear. “I have no doubt you’d do an amazing job of taking care of him. It’s not about you being capable or not. It’s just that he’s going through some stuff, and he wouldn’t want you to see him like this. He cares about what you think of him, and he doesn’t want you to see him as a mess.”

Adrien’s eyes rounded as he saw the sincerity in Marc’s expression.

“He doesn’t care if I see him gripping the edges of the toilet seat and puking his guts out,” Marc explained, “but he’d die if you saw him like that. He wants you to respect him and think he’s cool and all that.”

Adrien gave a soft snort. “I do respect him and think he’s cool.”

“Good,” Marc chuckled tiredly. “I’m glad to hear that…but he probably still wouldn’t want you to see him like this…you know?”

Adrien stuck out his lip in a pout but begrudgingly nodded anyway. “I just want to help, though.”

“You have been helping,” Marc assured, resting his hands on Adrien’s shoulders. “Everything you’ve done for him since you moved in has been tremendous. Trust me. I’ve seen him before and after you coming back into his life, and he has been doing so much better these past few days. You are a miracle worker…but I think it’s best if I take this one tonight…if that’s okay?”

Reluctantly, Adrien agreed. “…Yeah. I don’t like it, but I get it. I’ve…I’ve not reached out for help before when I needed it because I was afraid to let people see how bad things had gotten, so I do get it.”

“Good.” Marc gave Adrien’s shoulders an encouraging squeeze before pulling back. “You can help out again in the morning. He’ll need breakfast and aspirin and plenty of water. I’ll turn him over to you in the morning, but I’ll go ahead and take the night shift, all right?”

“All right,” Adrien affirmed, finally feeling a little better about it all.

So long as Luka still needed him. So long as Adrien wasn’t in the way.

“Perfect Fiiiiiifth,” Luka groaned deliriously.

Adrien was back at his side in an instant. “I’m here. What’s wrong? What do you need?”

“I love you,” Luka choked, and it sounded more like a lament than an affectionate remark.

“Love you too,” Adrien answered anyway, leaning in to press a light peck to Luka’s forehead. “Marc’s going to take care of you now, so you be good, okay? See you in the morning.”

“I love you,” Luka repeated balefully.

Adrien gave Luka an encouraging smile and patted him on the shoulder. “I love you too. Feel better, Orpheus.”

On his way out, Adrien sent Marc a worried look.

Marc did his best to inspire confidence and optimism, but Adrien wasn’t easily convinced.

Needless to say, no one slept well that night.

14 notes · View notes

perseusjackson-jasongrace · 5 years ago

Text

Empires on the Horizon V

Jason is a CEO: Part V

Here’s my masterlist for the next part and my other stuff

But the most beautiful things in life are just not things.

They’re people and places, memories and pictures.

They’re feeling and moments and smiles and laughter.

-unknown

“Charles Beckendorf,” Jason answered the phone with a smile, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Hello Grace, how are you?”

“Absolutely wonderful,” And he was, he hadn’t felt so calm in a long time. “What can I do for you my friend?”

“I need your help with the wedding. I’m planning an outdoor structure with video screenings of all our favourite memories and you have two things that’ll make my dreams come true.”

“Anything for you Charlie.”

“The gorgeous meadow on the far side of town, you own that right?”

“Yep, you want to set up shop there?”

“Yes please,” His eagerness carried through the phone, “And can you send me any pictures or videos you have of us so I can add it to the slideshow.”

“Of course, is that all?”

He could hear the excitement in his friend’s voice, “That’s it, unless you know anyone who’s willing to look after the shop while we’re on honeymoon?”

“I can’t say I do but I can ask Hazel to hire a temp if you want?”

“I’ll suggest it to the ladies and tell them to get back to you.”

“Sounds great, and good-luck with the project. I’m excited for the wedding.”

“Me too man, me too. It’s still surreal to me that I’m getting married to my best friends.”

“You deserve the world Charlie.”

“No way, I am crazy emotional these days.” He sniffled.

Jason laughed, “You’re always emotional Beckendorf.”

“Screw you,” He snorted, “See you soon, and thank you again.”

“Bye man, have a good one.”

He ended the call with a smile. It was unbelievable to think he would be going to his friends’ wedding in a couple months. Just the other day he was sitting in a lecture hall laughing at Beckendorf’s impersonation of their business lecturer. Just the other day he was helping Silena and Drew paint the walls of their boutique. It was strange to face the reality that they were all grown up now– moving on with their lives, living them.

“Ready to go Boss?” Hazel’s head popped around the door.

“Yep, you have the files?”

“All in the room already, anything else we need?”

“Maybe some coffee and a miracle?”

“Unfortunately I can only provide one of those things, and it’s not the helpful one.” She gave him an apologetic look.

“Well I guess wish me luck then,”

“You don’t need it Boss, you’re gonna kill it today.”

“What would I do without you Miss Levesque?” He sighed gratefully, walking to the elevator.

“Forget which day of the week it is, and which shoe goes on which foot,” She grinned.

“Hey, the shoe thing was one time.”

“That only works if you’re a toddler, not a grown man.”

“No excuse for the elderly then?”

She shook her head solemnly, “None I’m afraid.”

The elevator doors slid open.

“Meeting Room A5.”

“Let’s do this.” He took a deep breath and pushed the glass door.

“Hello Jason Grace,”

“Hello Octavian.”

Jason always felt some level of life seep out the room when he me with the head of Titan Industries. The man felt…synthetic; chalk white hair gelled down flat and calculating pale blue eyes that missed nothing. Gods even his skin looked unnatural, pasty and veined.

He reached out a small, bony hand in greeting.

“You look as incredible as ever Miss Levesque,” He lifted her hand to his mouth.

She gave him a tight-lipped smile, “Octavian.”

He didn’t seem to notice, or care for her discomfort and simply turned to Jason.

“So,” They sat down, “Have we come to some agreement?”

“With all due respect Octavian I don’t feel this contract is justified.” He glanced between the man and the folder.

There was silence, as if he were waiting for Jason to continue but two could play at this game. He was not willing to be taken for a fool, fumbling over himself to bow to this man’s whims. So he met those cunning eyes, a smile playing at his lips. The only sound was the scratch of Hazel’s pencil as she set up her notes for the meeting.

Moments passed, frozen in time, and then a sigh, “What can I do to ease your concerns?”

He struggled to reel in a smug expression. “Let’s start with the supply times.”

And they went back and forth, pulling and pushing, cunning and stead-fast, a fox and a wolf. Two hours later the contract had been amended to both their liking and they were once again shaking hands.

“I will ask my assistant to send over the revised contract, once my lawyer has looked over it.”

“I will do the same. Thanks for the meeting.” He guided the door open and waited for his guest to move through it.

“Until then, Grace.”

Without waiting for a reply Octavian snapped at his bodyguard and they disappeared down the passage.

“How do you feel about this?”

“There’s something not quite right Hazel, I just can’t figure out his angle.”

“Fully agree,” She shuddered, “He gives me the creeps.”

“Have you managed to find anyone else that could potentially take over this project?”

“Not yet Boss but you will be the first to know when I do.”

“Thanks Levesque, you truly are my saviour.” He gave her a grateful smile.

“Better put that on my gravestone,” She raised a brow.

“Done,” He laughed, “Any other requests?”

“Let’s get subs for lunch. I could do with some bread.”

He shook his head in amusement, “You drive a hard bargain but I’m willing to sacrifice for you.”

“Oh what was your plan Mr big-shot?” She pushed open the door to their offices.

“Today is burrito-bowl day and you know it.”

“I did forget,” She scrunched her nose, “But I’m extra grateful now.”

He snorted at her, ready to give a snarky remark before he was cut off by the shrill ring of his cell phone.

“Talk to me.”

“What’s up Grace, how’s your lunch hour looking?” Leo Valdez greeted.

“Levesque and I are going to get subs at Garden Girl, want to join?”

“I’ll meet you there.” And then he was gone.

“Ever the efficient caller isn’t he,” Hazel chuckled.

“Most days, which is weird since he’s a rambler face-to-face.”

They got to the contemporary restaurant on eighty-fifth avenue, spotting Leo outside.

“Hello,” His smile was wide as he hugged them.

“Who decided to give you a break? Don’t you have lectures right now?”

“Nah,” He grinned, “Guest lecturer teaching my slot this week, so I got two hours free.”

“The beauty of teaching postgrad, I assume?” Hazel asked.

“You know it Levesque!”

“What are we getting?”

“Don’t know about you but I’m getting the ‘Jazz It Up’ sub, got to stick to my New Orleans heritage.”

“Good afternoon my favourite customers? Where’s the rest of the crew?”

Jason smiled brightly, “Hello Katie.”

“Annabeth is at work, she has some big contract finally closing up,” Leo said by way of greeting.

“Frank is doing the security rounds at the office,” Hazel offered.

“Thalia isn’t even in the country right now.” He shrugged

“There’s still someone missing,” She frowned, scanning their faces, “Piper! Where’s the pretty lady?”

“Oh,” Leo winced, “Yea that is a touchy subject.”

Katie gave them a sympathetic look, “Well what can I help you with today? The usual for you Haze?”

They all rattled off their orders and chatted with the owner of Garden Girl while they waited. Jason had met Katie when he was doing business courses for his urban and regional planning degree. Her forest green eyes and bright smile struck him stupid the first time he saw her in their Entrepreneurship and Business Management lecture. He never had the guts to make a move, but it didn’t matter because she had just entered a relationship with Travis Stoll. Now they’re married and expecting a child, as is the latest update.

“How’s Project Hestia going Grace?” Leo asked, pulling out a chair.

“Ugh I’m having a hard time with the outdoor center. I’m not gelling with the contractor, and I don’t know what to do,” He scrubbed a hand down his face.

“I know I can’t ask what exactly is wrong because of legal reasons but what do you need done?”

He motioned to Hazel to explain as he bit into his sub.

“Basically we want to create an outdoor recreation center for the community which includes a gym area, a kids’ area, movies, a park and picnic area, rock climbing, you know the usual.”

“Right that shouldn’t be too hard to draft up,” Dark eyebrows scrunched, “But this guy is what? Trying to fuck you over?”

“Essentially,” Jason nodded, “The problem is we don’t know how?”

“Okay give me the weekend and let me call up some people. I think I know someone who can help.”

His eyes widened, “You are literally the best friend in the entire world. We’ve been looking for weeks, and we haven’t found anyone else who specialises in this.”

Leo squeezed his hand, “I’m not letting you get screwed over, and my buddy would be more than happy to do it.”

“What’s his name?” Hazel had her phone out, the notes app open.

“Harley, he’s was the youngest kid in our engineering course. I think he graduated with his masters when he was like twenty,”

Jason choked, “What?”

“The kid is incredible. He beat us regularly in our weekly electrotech competitions.”

“Well tell him to give us a call and I’ll set up a meeting with Jason next week. We have until next Friday before we sign contracts with Titan.”

“Sounds good,” Leo plucked a pen he kept behind his ear and scribbled something on his hand, “So Jase,” His grin was trouble.

The blonde narrowed his eyes, preparing himself for trouble.

“What happened with you and Percy? Last I heard you were going on a date on Tuesday and then getting married.”

It was Hazel’s turn to choke, and after she recovered smacked her boss on the shoulder, glaring as if to say what the hell did you not tell me?

He rolled his eyes at his best friend, “I didn’t even get his number because I left so abruptly. And anyway I hear he’s dating Reyna now.”

Leo’s hickory eyes widened, “He’s what?”

“Yea I went by the school about a month ago and Nico told me they were dating.”

“How do they even know each other?”

“They met at the school. She was visiting Nico and he was wanted to become a sponsor cause he used to go there.”

“Yea sounds about right, he’s crazy nice.” Leo nodded

“How have I never met him before the dinner?”

“He moves around a lot,” Leo shrugged, “I’ve only met him a handful of times because whenever he’s here he makes a point to visit Annabeth.”

“Well he sounds like an angel,” His assistant mused.

“Looks like one too,” He muttered, “It’s okay anyway cause I uh–“ He scratched the back of his neck.

“Oh my gods,” Hazel’s earthy eyes glittered, “You met someone!”

Leo clapped his hands, a smile as bright as the sun on his face, “Who are they?”

“We’ve been on one date so no making a big deal about it.” He gave them a pointed look, “But Thalia set us up and she’s… wow.”

“Oh you are real caught up, aren’t you?” They raised twin brows at him.

“She’s just indescribable. She’s gorgeous and that’s the least impressive thing about her.”

“Well tell us everything.” Hazel prodded.

“Okay she’s a vet. She has four sisters, but she doesn’t talk to them much. She believes in order, oh it’s glorious. Everything in its space and a plan for everything.” He looked at Leo then, to which his friend flipped him off and then motioned for him to continue.

“She eventually wants to open her own animal clinic. And most importantly she gets along with Thalia.”

“She sounds like a dream Jase,” Hazel squeezed his shoulder, “I’m really happy for you.”

Leo nodded, eyes bright with love, “You deserve some happiness bud.”

“Thank you guys,” He found it hard to breathe as the overwhelming gratitude he felt for his friends swept through his body.

“Valdez, you’re going to the lake cabins in a couple weeks, right?”

“Oh yep,” Leo wiggled his eyebrows, “And guess what?”

“You are not!” He yelled, and then lowered his voice, “You are lying to me right now.”

“Oh gods,” Hazel caught on, “Are you ready? No wait of course you’re ready! When, how, what?”

“I bought the ring a couple weeks ago. We’ve been talking about it for a few months and this just feels like the right time.”

Jason whistled, “My best friends are finally getting married.”

“Oh gods I hope she says yes,” Leo looked a little sick all of a sudden.

“Of course she’s going to say yes. You guys have been inseparable since that first maths lecture when we all went to the wrong class.”

“There’s no way she turns you down, I’ve seen the way you look at each other.” Hazel agreed.

“The way we look at each other?” Leo frowned at her, confusion evident in his face.

“Like you’re the only ones in the room. Like she is the match and you are the striker.”

Jason nodded, “The moment you two locked eyes at the bonfire it was like the universe threaded two strands through the same needle.”

“Well now I’m emotional and feeling much more confident about it.”

They laughed then, getting up to hug each other. Jason felt the world settle, still, slow. The wind whispered softly, and beams of sun caught between them. If nothing else he had this, and he would hold onto it until his bones were dust and his soul was a star once more.

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

So many weddings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tags (if you want to be added to/ taken off the tag list just let me know, all my channels of communication are open): @lesbian-peanuts

@leydiangelo

@queen-of-demons-and-hell

@msdrpreist

@sparkythunderstorm

@nishlicious-01

@lucyisblue

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softspideys · 5 years ago

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Supernova (Part I) (Peter Parker x reader)

summary: you’re the newest recruit to the Avengers. the problem is, no one is quite sure of what your powers are yet.

warnings: none

word count: 1.7k

pairing: peter parker x reader

a/n: this is my first series since time after time, and I really hope everyone likes it! stay tuned for part 2 :)

When Tony Stark showed up at the doorstep of your foster home, asking if you wanted to be an Avenger, your first instinct was to laugh in his face. You weren’t even sure if it was really him at first. You knew the name and the reputation of course, but had only ever seen a few clips of him on TV or in a grainy picture in the newspaper.

But it was him, and apparently he wanted to speak with you. Your foster mom was freaked, convinced you’d done something bad enough to warrant him coming all the way to the apartment you were currently living at in South Bronx. You didn’t even bother pointing out that although the state’s file on you was probably enormous by now, there was no criminal record. It wouldn’t matter.

Privately, you were also a little scared. Why would the Tony Stark, one of the richest and definitely the most powerful man in the world, want to talk to you? You were a nobody, a poor kid shuttled from orphanage to foster home and back again.

Stark insisted on talking to you in private. As soon as he shut the door, you blurted out, “Are you here to arrest me?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Pardon?”

You gulped, but didn’t back down. “I’m sorry, I just . . . how do you know who I am? Am I in trouble?” You thought back to all of the times you’d shoplifted from corner stores and bodegas, how no one had ever seemed to notice or catch you. Maybe it was all accumulating now.

He seemed amused by that. “No, you’re not in trouble,” he said. He sat down and nodded to the chair across from him. “That’s a little below my pay grade. Why don’t you take a seat?”

Earlier, when word had gotten out that Iron Man was here to see you, a few of the other kids had joked that maybe he was coming to reveal that he was your father. For a brief second, you wondered if that was actually happening.

Slowly, you sat down. “There’s no real easy way to say this,” Stark said, taking his glasses off and peering at you thoughtfully. “Not without freaking the hell out of you, anyway.”

“Say what?” you demanded. “What’s going on?”

He heaved a sigh. “As I’m sure you know, I’m in a group of individuals who all have rather . . . special . . . abilities. And we like to keep an eye out for people with the same type of skills.”

You blinked, wondering why he was telling you that. “Okay . . .”

“Well, we’ve had our eyes on you for a little while now,” Stark said, “and we think you might be someone we’re looking for.”

You stared at him before you let out a small, nervous laugh. “Sorry, what?” you said. “You’re—is this some type of joke? Are you actually Tony Stark?”

“I am, kid,” he said. “Got the money to prove it.”

“Listen,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m sorry you came all the way out here, but I think you must have the wrong person.”

“Mm, don’t think so.” He reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out his phone, some small, sleek, high-tech model that made you feel especially poor just by looking at it. He pressed a button and a hologram appeared above the screen. It was your name, date of birth, and current address, followed by your picture. “That’s you, right?”

“I . . . yeah,” you said, watching in disbelief as the picture changed into one from you in elementary school, followed by one of you as a toddler. How did he have all of that? How long had they been watching you?

“There’s no mistake here,” Stark said. “Like I said, you’ve been on our radar for a while now.”

“But why?” you said. This couldn’t be happening. There was no way he could be saying what you thought he was saying. “I’m not special. I’m not a god or a trained assassin or from another planet. I don’t have—have superpowers or anything like that.”

“You sure about that?”

You sputtered out a laugh, but Stark merely raised his eyebrows at you. “Come on,” he said. “I’ve looked at your file, you’re a smart kid. You mean to tell me that you’ve never felt like you were different? All those years on the streets by yourself, and you never wondered how you survived it? You never wondered who you were, or where you came from?”

Staring at him, you felt your throat tighten. Of course you’d wondered that. You’d been wondering all of that for as long as you could remember: a lost kid with no family, no friends, left to survive and fend for yourself. You always knew there was something different about you, but never what exactly. It was like a second heartbeat, thrumming deep in your chest, waiting to be let out.

“So, what?” you said finally. “You’re telling me I’m one of you? How do you even know that?”

“There are certain cases that we keep track of if we think it’s going to be something, or someone, useful. We’ve got the technology now that can sense it from the moment it’s born or created. Most of the time they’re one-offs, or false alarms, or they die out with time, but you . . . didn’t.”

“You’ve been watching me? This whole time?” A strange wave of emotions washed over you: some of it was embarrassment, like your turbulent life was something to be ashamed of. The other part of it was anger, flushed and creeping up your neck. They’d seen all you’d gone through and didn’t help? They’d been perfectly content to watch a child abandoned, bounced from place to place with no direction, and it didn’t occur to anyone to step in?

Like he could read your mind, Stark said, “If we help one, we have to help them all. It’s like a nature documentary, you know? You can’t mess with the natural course of things.”

You knew it was a fair point, but you still wouldn’t look at him. “Alright,” you said. “So, I’ve got some kind of special abilities? What are they? How come I’ve never seen them?”

“That’s why I’m here,” Stark said, relieved that you seemed to be catching up. We think you’ve got something powerful inside you, and we’d like to help you figure out what it is. And then, of course, use it.”

“Like—like be an Avenger?” you asked. The words sounded silly coming from your mouth, and you half-expected him to laugh at you, but Stark merely shrugged.

“Well, maybe not right away. But we can get you trained, see what you’re working with, how to control it . . . then we’ll talk.”

You could barely believe what you were hearing. “Train? At the new compound, you mean?” You knew Stark had sold the old Avengers Tower in Manhattan in favor of a newer, bigger place upstate, with sprawling green hills and dozens of different rooms for Avengers and agents to train in. It was the kind of place you could only dream of, all that open space to exist.

“Where else?”

The idea seemed too good to be true, but like a balloon popping, you were suddenly brought back to your reality. There had to be a catch. You lived in the city; the trip upstate would take several hours just to get up there. It was going to be impossible for you to go back and forth between your foster home and the compound to train: you didn’t have a car or even a license to drive, and you knew for a fact that neither of your foster parents would be willing to make the trip so often.

Besides, what about school? You’d just started your junior year at the local public high school, and while it wasn’t going totally flawlessly, you still didn’t want to transfer or miss a lot of it.

“Look,” you said before Stark could say anything else. “I appreciate you wanting to help me and, you know, thinking that I’ve got something special. But I don’t think I can live here and work with you. It’s just too much.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean, live here? Why would you live here?”

“Where else would I live?”

“At the compound,” Stark said, like it was obvious. “With everyone else who doesn’t have anywhere to go.”

“You mean like . . . like you’d adopt me, or something?” Your heart began to beat uncomfortably fast at the thought. You were still expecting him to deny it, even after all of the crazy things he’d been telling you so far. But he merely nodded.

“Well, yeah. You can live upstate and go to school there, or we’ll get you into something online, or we’ll just tutor you. Plenty of options that we can talk about later.” He waved his hand, clearly unconcerned with the idea of school.

“Are you serious? You really want me to live there?” You almost felt a little dizzy. Was this it? Was this finally the out you’d been searching for your entire life?

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” Stark said. “Romanoff’s downstairs signing the papers now. Should I tell her not to bother?” The slightly amused tone of his voice said he knew the answer; your eyes were already shining with tears.

“No,” you said, your voice cracking. “I mean, yeah—I mean—I want to. I want to do this.”

“I figured.” He leaned forward suddenly, his eyes locking onto yours with a sort of quiet urgency. “Listen to me. I’m sure we could talk for hours about the various parental issues we have and how it’s messed us up and all that fun stuff. But that’s all gone now, alright? If you join, you’re a part of this. You’re on the team and you’re in the family. And we don’t leave each other. Understand?”

Somehow, yet again, he’d known exactly what you needed to hear. “I understand.” You swallowed. “Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

He grinned at you, the first one you’d seen since you met him, and held out his hand. “Call me Tony. Welcome to the team, kid.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker series #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman imagine #spiderman series #spiderman fanfiction #avengers imagine #avengers series #avengers fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel series #marvel fanfiction #writing

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rosesvioletshardy · 5 years ago

Text

life as we know it - b.h. chapter 14

chapter 14 is finally here! this time it’s in the readers pov sort of. sorry these chapters are taking forever to update my english class is kicking my ass and i don’t end until the end of the month

I have at least two chapters planned left also i decided not to post the other version of chapter 13 seeing that it won’t fit into what i have planned for the story. i am working on making a billy / 6 underground fic if y’all are interested in it

also this isn’t edited so

sorry that this chapter is terrible

masterlist

summary: when their two best friends die, it’s up to ben y/n to care of their goddaughter and face the challenges with it

# of words: 1,521 (shorter than last chapter sorry)

warnings: angst

taglist: @myfatbottomedgirls , @evemarie05 , @suckerfor-fanfics, @lilharms , @youngpastafanmug

inbox me or message me if you want to be added to the taglist for the series

December 23, 2017 1:28 am

y/n couldn’t sleep. she kept tossing and turning on the air mattress tyler and kira had provided her as she made sure charlie had a better place to sleep on the bed in their guest room. she knew what she was doing was wrong and that she had lied to lucy and herself. she had told them of her situation and they had agreed that she was stupid for leaving, kira more or less, agreed with her but still thought it was wrong for what she did but didn’t judge not knowing the entirety of the situation. they still offered to let her stay until she left for california in a day. it also meant that she couldn’t leave the house without having to hide herself in case she ran into someone she knew. the one thing she was also worried about was whether or not ben was going to meet them there. Letting out a defeated sigh, she got out of bed and went into the kitchen to make herself tea. she was used to tyler’s house so she still knew where everything was from when her, him, and lennon all used to live together before they managed to live all on their own or started dating someone.

“tyler why do you still keep your mugs so high up? I don’t even know how kira manages to get them” she said to herself having to climb the counter to get one

after managing to get a mug, she turned on the kettle and went back to go check on charlie and grab her phone. when she entered the room she saw charlie still peacefully sleeping and the suitcase with their clothes and supplies for california. grabbing her phone and heading back to the kitchen, y/n had seen that ben had left more messages for her a little before she left rather than leaving more voicemails after 10 missed calls.

ben

Hey, i might come home late tonight but i was hoping we could get some takeout and talk?

ben

hello?

ben

it’s okay you don’t have to answer. i’ll see you soon :)

she felt guilty and rude for having to ignore him when he was trying to be nice and make amends in a way for them to be together again and she hated herself for it. she wasn’t listening to her heart and only was listening to her head. y/n drank her tea in silence as she started to hear charlie stir in her sleep meaning she was going to wake soon. Charlie was her main priority at the moment and was thinking about how she was going to react when they went on to the plane for the first time. walking back to their room, she saw her starting to wake up. it was rare that charlie would wake up in the middle of the night especially since she was getting older, but y/n figured it was because she was getting bigger.

Walking into the room, after thanking god for making the couple heavy sleepers. y/n saw the tears streaming down her face and she sat up and quickly went over to her. Scooping her up, she tried to soothe the toddler. she was swaying back and forth and trying to shush her in a calming tone

“c’mon charlie baby, it’s okay” she whispered to her kissing her temple

Charlie didn’t stop, she continued to cry and grab onto her as she almost began to start crying. when she was with ben she knew what to do and how to soothe charlie but now she feels like she’s giving up on almost everything. Trying to shush her and console her, y/n remembered the one thing that soothed charlie when she became fussy. Queen. She still remembers the first day ben had sang to her and since then, they had sang her a variety of songs and now it seemed like it was her favorite band, but ben was soon to get her to listen to Led Zeppelin as she gets older. she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, before opening them back up and singing

“Love of my life, you’ve hurt me

You’ve broken my heart and now you leave me

Love of my life, can’t you see?

Bring it back, bring it back

Don’t take it away from, because you don’t know

What it means to me”

she didn’t know why she decided to sing the song when she was the one who hurt him. She’s not playing the victim and never would. she knew her mistakes and knew that she was the one who hurt him. charlie fell back asleep in y/n’s arms and she couldn’t help but lay back and look through her phone and see all the memories all three of them had together. the best one was from them celebrating Gwilym's birthday. it was one of her favorite days as ben got a little too drunk and mistook one of the guys for her and almost kissed them even though she was right next to him. as soon as another video of ben came up, the volume was a little too loud this time causing charlie to wake up again. her eyes adjusted to the screen as y/n tried to turn the volume down

“dada”

this shocked her. she had never called either her and ben “mama” or “dada” and she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want charlie to think of them as her real parents and had talked to ben as to when it is going to be appropriate for them to tell her who her real parents were and thought it would be best to do it when she is older and has a more clear understanding.

“yeah, that’s your dada. you know he really loves you and would give up everything in the world just to protect you. he loves you more than anything and i was stupid enough to hurt him. it doesn’t mean you aren’t going to see him but you should know that we’ll make sure that you’ll be cared and loved for.” y/n whispered

“Hopefully by the morning, i’ll have some sense knocked into me and we’ll go back to him before seeing grandma and grandpa.”

she put charlie back to sleep and stayed with her for the rest of the night while thinking about why she didn’t just stay, why she had to be a coward and run away and take one of the things that truly made ben happy away from him.

the next morning, y/n and charlie walked out to see tyler and kira with breakfast already prepared while drinking coffee. They gave her a look with sad eyes and all she could do was shake her head. She knew what they had already were saying and they knew she wouldn’t listen. It broke their heart to see one of their friends in pain even if it was their fault and they were trying to be as supportive as possible without bulging into her private life that much. The only thing that y/n didn’t know is that they had given ben her flight information as to what day and time she was going to be leaving. Tyler knew it was wrong but even though he didn’t know ben that well he still knew how much he meant to her and how in love they were with each other. Kira at first thought it was wrong that he did it but then warmed up and knew it was going to help them reconnect. They were hoping that somehow ben would come through and run to the run to heathrow dramatically and that they’ll apologize.

“Morning.”

“Morning” y/n replied back putting charlie on the couch so she could go get her breakfast ready

“how are you feeling? we heard some talking last night.” tyler asked her

“i’m fine, just charlie was crying and i was comforting her.”

“Is this because-”

“Yes and no. i really don’t feel like talking about it if you guys don’t mind”

“yeah, no problem. Hey, just to make sure you leave at 11 am tomorrow, right and it’s nonstop?” tyler asked as kira gave him a glare

“Yeah, why?”

“No reason, just wanted to make sure.” tyler said darting his eyes away from her

y/n looked at him suspiciously wondering why he was asking her and what he has planned

“Okay weirdo. i’m going to take charlie for a walk later and check in on the shop. Don’t worry i’ll hide myself.” she told them as she wiped charlie’s face

y/n almost had ran into ben that day during her walk while he was walking charlie. she had managed to get into her shop before it started to rain, checking the orders one more time before tyler since he was staying in london, gave them to the respected customers. Ben thought he was hallucinating or couldn’t tell it was the rain blurring his eyes but all he knew was that he saw someone who looked like her with a child.

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weelittleweasley · 4 years ago

Text

a day in the snow (h.p.)

prompt as requested by anon: after being friends for two years, you had been toying with the idea of how and if you should tell harry that you have feelings for him. but will the fear of rejection hold you back?

pairing: harry potter x fem! reader

warnings: food

word count: 3.2k

author’s note: this could be read as a sequel to may i sit?, but you don’t have to read it to understand this fic! happy reading! oh! and requests are still open ;)

Soft, powdery white snow covered the Scottish hills that rolled in the distance. The green grass now hidden beneath blankets and blankets of freshly fallen snow. Untouched snow was soon replaced with trails of snow shoe footprints and laughter of students as they weaved their way to Hogsmeade. It was a perfect winter’s day. Cold enough to keep the snow from melting and make you shiver if you wore the wrong jacket, but not cold enough from keeping you from dragging Harry through the snow to the town.

Harry would have much rather stayed inside and kept warm in the comfort of the common room with the roaring fire in front of him, blanket over his lap as he enjoyed the chatter of his closest friends. You, on the other hand, lived for days like today. You insisted it would be an adventure; out in the snow, romping around, enjoying each other’s company. Although Harry insisted you had gone to Hogsmeade so many times in the past, you had practically begged him to go today. You needed some excitement rather than being cooped up in the castle all weekend long. With a groan and exaggerated roll of his head, Harry finally gave into your pleas. He couldn’t resist you for longer than five minutes of constant begging.

Linking your arm in his, the two of you trudged through the snow, you laughing as Harry bemoaned about snow getting into his boots. “Don’t be such a party pooper, Potter,” you tease him as he rolls his eyes. “We’ll make a day of it. We can get Butterbeer at Three Broomsticks, shop around at Honeydukes, maybe venture into Zonko’s,” you list off excitedly. It would be a pricey expenditure, but you had just received your monthly allowance from your parents and you were certainly planning on spending a chunk of it today.

“Or we could head back to the castle, get a blanket, sit by the fire in the common room, sneak into the kitchens. You know the house elves love me,” he smiled as you scoffed at him. “We’ve been to Hogsmeade hundreds of times, why can’t we enjoy a day inside the castle?” he implores you as a bright smile appears on your face as the village comes into your view.

You drop Harry’s arm and make a mad dash for the village, giggling wildly. You turn to face him, walking backwards now, “We are in that castle every day, Harry. I need a change of scenery once in a while and what better place to do so,” you speak merrily. Pure joy was laced in your voice as Harry sighed and shook his head with a smile. He couldn’t deny the look of childish glee on your face as you stood there, waiting for him to catch up to you, clapping your hands like a toddler on Christmas morning. “Now come on, let me treat you to a Butterbeer,” you extend your hand out to him as he gladly accepts it, swinging your arms back and forth.

The gesture was simple, something you and Harry always did. But you couldn’t deny that every time Harry held your hand, flashed you a toothy grin, cracked a joke and looked your way to see if he had made you laugh, it always made your heart flutter and mind races with a thousand and one thoughts. Harry had been your mate, a close one, for almost two years now. After the night you two had formally met, you were inseparable. You spent nights in the library studying (mostly fooling around and pissing others off), running through the corridors playing elaborate games of hide-and-seek, exchanging small glances during class. Together, you and Harry just made sense. The two of you got along like you had known each other your whole lives and yet, nothing more evolved from your friendship. You had managed to convince yourself that a friendship was all you signed up for and all you wanted from Harry which was a total lie. Harry made you feel like you were the only person who mattered; like when he was with you, you had his full and undivided attention. Harry made you feel safe.

But you ignore the butterflies that danced around in your gut as you walked towards Three Broomsticks, Harry opening the door for you as you slid in carefully. “Go on and find us a seat, I’ll grab us drinks,” you instruct him as he smiles and nods.

You approach the bar and see Madam Rosmerta, drying some mugs. She catches your eye as she flashes you a brilliant smile, “Back again, Miss (Y/L/N),” she beams as you nod. “What can I get for you, my darling?”

“Two Butterbeers please,” you request, leaning against the bar, removing the woolen gloves from your chilled hands. The Three Broomsticks was warm, in temperature and the environment. The pub was bustling in customers, varying in age, old and young. Some Hogwarts students were tucked away in booths as you surveyed the area, some on what looked like dates, others messing around with friends.

Madam Rosmerta gives you a look, raising one brow suggestively. “Two?” she asks as you nod. “You fancied your way into a date now? Who with?” she implores. But before you can protest that you were just in for a quick drink with a friend, her eyes land on Harry who waits patiently at a table. Madam Rosmerta dramatically gasps, “With the Chosen One?” she gawks. “Nicely done, my darling. Way to go!” she hits your arm encouragingly.

You shake your head feverishly, “No, no, Harry and I are just mates. We’ve always been mates and always will be.” When the words tumble from your mouth, your stomach feels sour. Always been mates and always will be. Nothing more and nothing less for you and Harry. Stuck in the friend zone. Madam Rosmerta gives you a look to tell you that she’s not buying it. You insist, “Really. Harry is a good friend. We’re just spending the day together as mates.”

She smiles at you as she pours you up two brimming mugs of Butterbeer, the copper mugs foaming wildly with the delicious beverage. “That’s how it always starts,” she teases as you play with the hem of your lavender jumper. “Just mates usually means something more is on the way,” she winks as you lightly laugh. Reaching into your pocket, you look for a few sickles to give in exchange for your drinks, but Madam Rosmerta stops you. “These are on the house,” she insists. “A toast to best mates,” she winks.

“Thank you,” you blush before you part from the bar, walking over to the table with your drinks. “For you,” you slide the mug over to Harry who thanks you before you sit down and take a sip from the refreshing beverage.

Harry takes a glug from his mug before speaking, “Alright. Well, now that you’ve got me here, what’s on the agenda? I want the full (Y/N) (Y/L/N) experience.”

You smile at your best friend and shake your head. Harry could be a pisser, but he sure knew how to make you smile. As you ran off everything you wanted to do for the day, you became very aware of Harry’s gaze as he looked at you. His green eyes held so much tenderness, gently resting upon you as you spoke with such glee in your voice. Occasionally, he would permit a small smile to appear on his lips as you would catch him and ask what he was smiling about. He would brush it off and simply say, “Nothing. I find it sweet when you get excited about things.”

In response, you scoffed and rolled your eyes whilst inside your stomach did and flip and your mind screamed about how much you liked him. How you wanted to hold his hand and tell him how much you cared for him. How you wanted kiss his lips and lay your head on his chest, falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. But instead, you continued blabbering on about the day ahead of you.

After finishing at Three Broomsticks, you and Harry walked down High Street and made a stop at Honeydukes. Inside were countless shelves filled with sweets and treats beyond imagination. As soon as you stepped foot inside, you immediately ran to the shelves to pick out your favorite sweets. Harry laughed at your impatience; you couldn’t even wait for him to grab you a basket. “We have to stock up on all the good stuff, Harry,” you say very intently as you grab three parcels of Jelly Slugs. “Godric knows that once Ron sees the stash, he’s bound to consume half of it,” you huff as Harry laughs. You weren’t wrong.

Harry watches as you select a few Chocolate Frogs, Chocolate Wands, and Cockroach Clusters from the shelves. “Easy does it, you don’t want to spend all of your money in one place,” he warns.

You flash him a look. “Geez, you sound like Granger,” you laugh as he rolls his eyes. “Last time I checked if Harry saw me buying this many sweets, he’d be encouraging me to buy more,” you tease as he rolls his eyes. “Come on, what do you want? My treat.”

Harry looks at you and shakes his head. “(Y/N), no. You already treated for Butterbeer, I’m not letting you buying me sweets too,” he tells you as you shake your head.

“Madam Rosmerta covered the cost of the Butterbeers, so that doesn’t count,” you reveal to him as he gives you a confused look. But before he can question why she would cover the cost, you speak up, “Come on, Harry, if you don’t chose, I’ll chose for you.” You nudge his arm as he sighs giving in as you smile widely.

You knew Harry didn’t want you wasting your money on him, but you hardly considered it a waste. You wanted him to enjoy himself too, especially since he didn’t want to leave the castle and you practically forced him out. This was just a small way to express your gratitude.

Now, your shopping basket was full of sweets and was considerably heavy. But it was no problem. You swiftly paid the cashier and carried out a large bag of sweets out of the shoppe as Harry laughed as you struggled to carry it. “Give it here,” he laughs as he takes the bag from your hands, easily carrying it in just one of his. “Light as a feather.”

“Oh, shut it, Harry,” you laugh alongside him as you trudge through the snow, enjoying how lively the town was today. People made chatter, buying things from the shoppes, children playing in the snow, indulging in sweets. The scene made your heart swell. You loved how alive and well the town seemed. As you looked around, you felt Harry’s gaze on you again as you caught his eye. “Why’re you staring at me?” you laugh as Harry blushes.

“I can’t look at my best friend?” he defends himself. “Rather me close my eyes and walk around blindly?” he teases as he screw his eyes shut, pretending to feel around for directions. “Someone help. My best friend is mad that I dare look at her so now I’m forced to walk around like this!” he jokes as you roll your eyes.

But before you can say anything, you hear someone call out for Harry’s name. You both turn around and see Ron jogging over to you both as Harry looks at you. “Go,” you smile at him. “No need to ask me for permission.”

Harry smiles as Ron runs over to him, the two of them immediately babbling about something that Ron found in Zonko’s. Behind Ron is Hermione who walks over to you with a small smile. “Enjoying yourself?” you wiggle your eyebrows at Hermione.

She rolls her eyes, “Ron and I were in Zonko’s for nearly three hours.” You laugh at her complaint. She sighs, “But it made him happy. So in a weird way, I guess it was worth it.” You poke at her sides, teasing her for her innocent crush on her best friend. “Oh, stop, you’re one to talk! Harry told us he wasn’t feeling well today and he wasn’t going to come out with us,” Hermione reveals.

You stop poking at Hermione’s words as they fall from her lips. You twist your face with confusion. “What do you mean he didn’t feel well?” you ask as Hermione restates what she had previously revealed. Did Harry lie to his two best friends, so he could spend the day with you? You shake your head, “No, Harry told me he wanted to stay in the castle today. He didn’t want to go out today all together,” you justify.

Hermione gives you a knowing look. “Sure, he could have told you that, but you know Harry likes to give people a hard time. He would have gone with you whether you begged or not,” she smiles. “Even if you didn’t go to Hogsmeade, you would have stayed at the castle with him, wouldn’t you?” she asks, already knowing the answer to the question when a rosy hue appears on your cheeks. “(Y/N), drop the charade. You both have been infatuated with the other since you met each other,” Hermione places a hand on your arm, rubbing it. “Everyone sees the glances you two steal, the way you laugh at his jokes, the way he literally drops everything to be next to you...don’t wait any longer.”

If this all was true, then maybe it really did mean Harry had deeper feelings for you. But the possibility that people were reading into it and Harry saw you as just a close friend loomed over your head like a dark rain cloud. The fear of Harry looking into your eyes and telling you that this relationship of yours was merely platonic would break your heart. You would rather keep your secret just that, a secret. That way you could prevent yourself from being hurt. But then there was the risk of keeping this secret hidden deeply and hurting yourself by watching him live life with another girl, someone who wasn’t you. And that was what made your stomach churn.

Before you can ask Hermione advice, Harry speaks up, “(Y/N), you ready?” You look at Hermione who gives you a reassuring squeeze and wink as you sigh. Turning to Harry, you nod.

“We’ll catch up later,” you tell Hermione who gives you a curt nod. You walk over to Harry who extends a hand out to you to walk back into the castle. You accept it, letting your hands swing back and forth, letting the negative thoughts in your mind float away as you enjoy the feeling of his gloved hand holding yours.

Harry gives your hand a gentle squeeze as he notices you ruminating in thought, nibbling on your bottom lip. He knew your nervous habits like the back of his hand and he monitored them carefully. “What’s bothering you?” he asks quite simply. You look at him, puzzled. “Your biting your bottom lip. You always do that when you’re overthinking something,” he tells you as you sigh defeated. He knew you too well and that was the problem. “You know you can tell me, (Y/N). We’re best friends.”

Best friends. That’s exactly what you were. “Can I ask you something, Harry?”

“Anything,” he smiles as he continues to swing your hand back and forth.

But you stop walking and drop his hand, tucking both your hands into your jacket pockets. Harry watches as you do so, gulping, nervous as to what you had to say. “Did you...did you tell Hermione and Ron that you didn’t want to go to Hogsmeade with them today because you weren’t feeling well?” you ask.

Harry looks at you blankly before inhaling deeply. “I did, yes.”

You, even more confused, now try to clarify. “But you came out to Hogsmeade with me instead? You told me you wanted to stay in the castle, so why didn’t you? If you weren’t feeling well, you should have told me that and I wouldn’t have asked you to come with me,” you tell Harry who just stands there. “Harry, you know you don’t have to follow me around. I could have gone with someone else today.”

He shakes his head, “That’s not the point, (Y/N). That’s not why I came with you.”

“Then why did you come with me?” you ask, genuinely needing to know the answer. Harry remains silent for a moment as you groan. “Harry, I need you to be honest with me. You tell some of your friends one thing and then you tell me another. I’m just confused and I need at least a little clarity as to what is going on inside that head of yours,” you exclaim.

Harry stands there silent again as you look at him, with an exhausted expression on your face. Was it really that hard to tell you the truth? You shake your head and start walking away from Harry, whispering under your breath, “This is ridiculous.”

Before you can take another step away from him, Harry grabs your hand and pulls you back to him, spinning you around to face him. He wastes no time, cupping your cold cheeks in his hands and pulling you into him, connecting his lips with yours. You are taken aback by the sudden move, but you instantly melt into his touch, kissing him back. His lips are cold from the weather, but the kiss is warm and sweet and genuine. The kiss is revitalizing; it makes your heart speed up and makes you pull him closer to you, wanting more and more and more until you can’t take anymore. Harry only kisses you harder as you relax into the kiss. As you kiss, you can feel snowflakes fall upon your cheeks and eyelashes. The scene was picturesque. Two friends now kissing in the middle of the snowy pathway as freshly fallen snow surrounds them like halos.

Gently, Harry pulls away and rubs your cheeks with his thumbs as you keep your eyes closed, savoring the sensation of his cool lips on yours. “Does that clarify things?” he asks as you lightly smile, fluttering your eyes open, looking into his green ones. “I always want to be with you, (Y/N). I lied to Ron and Hermione because I wanted to be with you. I will take every opportunity to be with you because I’m absolutely head over heels for you.”

His words make your heart flutter. It was everything you have ever wanted to hear and you can’t help but smile like a goofball at his words. “You are?” you say in disbelief, breathlessly as you hold onto his arms tightly, not ever wanting to let go.

“Head over heels,” he repeats. “And I’m willing to do anything to prove it to you.”

You smile widely before pressing your forehead against his. “There’s no need. Because I’m head over heels for you, Harry,” you confess as Harry smiled brightly at your confession before kissing the tip of your nose gently. “Quite the pickle we’ve gotten ourselves into, huh, Potter?” you tease him.

Harry shakes his head, “One I don’t plan on getting out of any time soon,” he tells you before kissing you again sweetly as the snow showers over the both of you.

#Harry Potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfic #Harry Potter Smut #harry imagine #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter x ravenclaw!reader #harry potter x ravenclaw #harry potter x slytherin!reader #harry potter x fem!reader #harry potter x original character #harry potter x gryffindor!reader #harry potter x reader imagine

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agentsandbutterflies · 5 years ago

Note

47 for the prompt thingie :3

Thank you, darling! So this is part of the Fatherhood vs. Knighthood verse where Eggsy is Daisy’s dad instead of older brother. Enjoy!

47 “Why are you whispering?”

Daisy’s really getting too heavy to carry around until she falls asleep, but when you have an ear infection there are different rules and dad doesn’t really care. Luckily, the paracetamol is starting to work (and hopefully also the antibiotics) and she’s drifting off to sleep, because this is the toughest workout Eggsy has had in months.

He walks back and forth with Daisy against his shoulder on the first floor of the house he’s inherited from the dead agent once known as Galahad. In and out of all the rooms to get some variety and mentally planning how he’ll redecorate all of them once he gets the time and money.

When he reaches his bedroom, he sees that someone has pinged him on his laptop that rests on the night stand. He frowns and walks over to it, Merlin should have resigned all his urgent tasks -- in other words, all his agents -- to someone else. It’s Lancelot calling, though, and he can’t leave an agent hanging just because they call in on the wrong frequency.

With a bit of effort he manages to pop in an earbud and open the call with one hand.

“Lancelot,” he says in a hushed voice, “what’s wrong?”

“Hi, Eggs,” says Roxy in a cheerful voice which instantly puts him at ease. No one’s that happy with a gun to their head. “Need a favour.”

“Anything within reason for you, luv. You know that.”

Roxy laughs on the other end. Eggsy likes Roxy, he’s been her handler on three minor missions now and their communication just… works. Not to mention that Eggsy finds it easier to raise his voice and reprimand someone his own age rather than someone old enough to be his dad, and all agents need a stern talking to from time to time.

Eggsy moves Daisy to his left arm, shaking the right to get more blood into it as Roxy explains her extremely non-emergency problem.

“Not sure how you want me to sort any of that, but if you ping--”

“Why are you whispering?” Roxy interrupts him.

Because I don’t want your stupid request to wake my kid when she’s finally gone to sleep?? he thinks, but instead he asks, “Can I tap into your glasses?”

“Sure.”

He gets his phone out of his pocket and after a few seconds he’s managed to get into her feed.

“Can you see my transmission?”

“Yes.”

He flips the camera and holds it up so that she can see the sleeping toddler on his shoulder. He hears a small gasp and wishes he could see her face.

“Roxy, meet Daisy,” he whispers. “She has an ear infection so I’ll be off for a few days. That’s why you’ve been reassigned, agent.”

“You’re a dad?”

Eggsy moves his phone so that it only shows Roxy his face. “Yep.”

“I’m sorry I bothered you.”

“It’s fine, I’m just… a bit preoccupied and completely useless to you right now.”

“You’re never useless to me,” says Roxy, sounding very sure of herself. “I’ll bother Nicko instead. Call you when I’m back in London.”

“Go and kick butt, Lancelot.”

“Always.”

The line is disconnected and Eggsy tosses the phone on his bed. He looks at it for a moment, wondering if he maybe dares putting down Daisy now as well.

To not take any chances, he walks another lap around the floor. Can never be too careful.

#kingsman #eggsy #daisy #roxy #my tumblr fics #elletromil

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yamithediaperdork · 5 years ago

Text

Putting a brat in his place

Bakugo was less then happy as he stormed into the local drug store. Of course one could point out that the blond hero in training had a default setting of less then happy unless he was making someone else miserable, but this was a fouler mood then normal. the main problem for the wanna be hero was the fact that his bitch mother had gone out of town for the weekend leaving him alone (that in itself wasn't so bad, as things when easier without her around) but the problem stemmed from the text message she had sent him, telling him she had forgotten to get him his 'bed time pants' as she called them, and he needed to pick some up. His bed time pants were of course their not so subtle code word for his night time diapers, something he had needed since a training exercise had gone horribly wrong and he'd ended up blasting himself towards stupid Deku's fist while trying to get his balance. the end result had been a high impact of his boys on the dweeb's fist and it had taken half a week for him to get his day time control back (and even then had to monitor is fluid intakes) and he still hadn't manage to keep a bed dry in the 3 months since it had started. Adding in just how much he pissed in his sleep, Bakugo couldn't get by with anything close to discreet and his mother had taken delight in pointing out only the bulky thick diapers mean for teen babies (A growing crowd in the city) stood up to his punishment. As such he left it to her to go and buy the damn things, always dreading what awful stories she had to be telling about her widdle super soaker (a pet name she'd given him and he fucking hated it) He'd of gone to a different shop for the stupid things but the one his mother used was the furthest away from the school and best for avoiding any of the dweebs in his class seeing her with one of the over sized packages in her arms. As he stormed down the aisles heading for the diapers, he gave off a wave of malice powerful some of the customers backed away, and others were worried this was a prelude to some form of robbery. This wasn't helped when after looking around for 20 seconds in the deceptively large drug store, he reached for a young male clerk and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him close to his face. "where are your fucking diapers? the big ones?" he asked. "I..I..I.." "Don't make me repeat myself!" "IN THE BACK PLEASE DON'T HURT ME!" The clerk cried out, a 24 year old twig of a man who would end up needing diapers himself for a week having nightmares about all of this. as he was dropped to the floor on his ass, the blond menace bent over and the clerk felt himself losing control of his bladder, sure that this was it and closed his eyes tight. "Thanks. here, use this and get yourself a pack." The clerk opened one eye and then the other, the blond was smiling and holding out some money. Sure that it was a trick, the young man scrambled out of his puddle and flew for a door marked employees only. "Sheesh. try and be nice.." Bakugo muttered then shrugged and headed for the back. Getting to the wall of diapers in the back, Bakugo felt his cheeks heating up those anyone who dared to try and look at him as he browsed got a glare powerful enough to send them running before he found the brand his mom usually got him, not as easy as it should of been since she made to have them in his underwear drawer by the time he got home. And he could see why. "Little stinkers delight?" He read, a eye twitching and fighting the urge to blast a hole in the wall. if it wasn't for the samples of the diapers next to them, he wouldn't of ever pegged it as being his brand but there it was, white with the the little chibi hero's in diapers fighting chibi villains in theirs. Picking up the pack he read the back, and realized why his mom always had a case of the giggles when he got diapered at night. 'Perfect for the big baby who wants to go boom boom or just soak in their tinkles, stinker's delight promises 24 hours protection from rashes, bad smells and leaks. let your little guy or gal stew in their smelly diaper and enjoy being the big baby they are.' "...I'm going to kill her when she gets home." Bakugo said, and yet he put the pack under his arm and stormed towards the check out. it wasn't that he wanted to wear the damn things, just he wasn't sure if they really were the best or if it was his mothers sick sense of humor at play. and beside, he didn't wanna blow his spending money getting a bunch of different diapers to try out. Thankfully his intimidating presence encouraged other shoppers to go back and look for a few other things, so they cleared up the line up for him and he made it to the clerk, a lady in her late forties. "Oh ho ho! Anther big cute baby! where's your mommy or daddy little one?" she asked, clearly not bothered by the malice he was putting out. "Cut the chatter, just sell me the fucking huggies." "tch, you kiss your mommy with that mouth? I have a good mind to spank your bottom for that!" The lady scolded and despite himself, Bakugo suddenly felt a lot of shame. "I uh..I just..I'm all by myself this weekend." He found himself saying. "And my mommy usually gets the diapers for me while I'm at school." Bakugo whined, and then his fucking THUMB found it's way into his mouth, him sucking on it and some drool leaking on his chin. "ohhh I see. Well I bet you're just grumpy you'll have to change your own diapies. I forgive you~" the lady said and suddenly Bakugo felt like his old self again. "...What the fu-" he started to say but the lady locked eyes with him again. "You youngsters aren't the only ones with quirks young man. and I don't like bullies like you scaring my employees. Now, I want you to be a good boy, stop taking your anger out on needing diapers out on others, and go home." popping his thumb out of his mouth Bakugo growled. "Who the FUCK do you think you ar-" "Why is it I always get the bratty ones in my store?" The lady signed. " I think I know who you are, your mother has told me a lot about you." the lady said, taking control again and Bakugo plopped on his butt on the floor, sitting cross legged and sucking on his thumb again. "When you see her on Monday tell her to come and pay for your diapies, and a few other things I'm adding to your bag." She called down, leaning over the counter before adding a package of pacifiers and a few sippy cups to a big plastic bag with his diapers in them. Bakugo tried to growl, to tell her off but popped his thumb out of his mouth instead and gave a small smile, before getting to his feet and accept the bag, then bowing. "I've locked you in 3 year old mode, with some exceptions. you'll be able to look after yourself if you have too, but will be drawn to find one of your friends to help you out. it'll last for 72 hours OR till you can stop being a mental brat for a hour..so I'm guessing 72 hours." the lady said then plastering a big smile on her face made a little shooing motion. "now you hurry home and get your diapies on before you have an accident!" "Yesh auntie. fank ku." Bakugo lisped back even as his face flushed, then bowing again he hurried out of the store. Try as he might, Bakugo couldn't seem to get full control of his body back, which meant he had started to skip, swinging the bag back and forth, while badly trying to whistle, just like he used to as a toddler. as he came up to a crosswalk he whined loudly and found himself looking around for a adult or big kid to help him across since mommy told him he wasn't allowed to cross those without her or someone helping him. 'Oh this is fucking bullshit! a big kid? I am a fucking big kid! the fuck am i doing!?!' Bakugo mentally ranted, figuring losing a few minutes of his clock wouldn't hurt too much in the long run. "Hey Bakugo! Wait up!" came a voice Bakugo knew, and mentally he groaned and swore while on the outside he smiled and turned to face Inasa. "Hiiii Inasa! How's you?" Bakugo asked, grinning ear to ear. "i'm glad your hear! I need help getting across the street!" the other boy paused for a second, not quite sure he had heard Bakugo right, then noted the back he was carrying which being a clear plastic bag, did nothing to hide the babyish items in it. "Uhhh..Ok. what's all this?" Inasa asked, smirking. "Oh! these are my diapies, and some paci;s and a sippy cup cuz auntie said I hafa big a little guy till I learn mah lesson, or 72 hours pass." Bakugo said cheerfully. "...heh. ok. Am I being pranked? who are you really? a shape shifter or something?" Inasa laughed and shook his head. "If Bakugo finds out what your doing he's gonna be mad so you be-" "Noooo it's really me! I was being a BUTT in da store getting mah bed time diapies and got a attuide adjustment!" Bakugo said, shaking his head then looking thoughtful, pulled out his wallet showing his school idea. 'Oh fuck my life!' Bakugo mentally groaned. "Ok..huh..well I mean.. did she hurt you or anything? Inasa asked, looking unsure of what to do. "Nope! just making me act like the 3 year old I am, minus, the meanie beanie parts!" Bakugo giggled and then blew a raspberry. "Sooo can you help me across the road? Pleasssssse?" he asked, bringing his hands together in a plea. 'Please say no please say no please say no plea-' Bakugo chanted in his head. "heh, I suppose so, Guess I better stick with you and make sure you're all safe." Inasa said and held out a hand for the little big boy. "Oh my gosh! that would be great! we can watch cartoons and play toys and everything!" Bakugo gushed and took the other boys hand. 'just fucking kill me now.' Bakugo thought. Getting back to his place had been quick and easy with Inasa using his quirk to speed things up and Bakugo despite his best mental efforts had giggled like a goofball the entire time, clapping his hands and asking for them to go again even as they landed in front of his apartment. "Maybe later little guy, i don't think the big you wants a bunch of people seeing you with all this little guy stuff." 'oh you fucking think!?!' By this point Bakugo had given up behaving himself and hoped that when he went to sleep that would count and he could just wake up and threaten Inasa to keep his fucking month shut, though he doubted he'd be that god damn lucky. as they came in Bakugo's bladder suddenly came to life and he started to do a potty pants, while holding onto Inasa "heh, gotta use the potty little guy?" Inasa asked. "yeah! Over there! help?" Bakugo asked, dancing in place and a hand on the front of his black jeans. "I dunno how to undo my jeans yet!" 'BULLSHIT! HOW THE FUCK WAS i GONNA GET OUT OF THESE PANTS OTHERWISE!?!' Bakugo ranted. "Ohhh I see. Ok." the other boy laughed, wishing he was brave enough to take pictures but it wasn't hard to picture Bakugo hunting him down once this was all over to get them back. Leading the squirming younger boy to the bathroom, he got Bakugo's jeans down and suppressed a laugh, wondering if Bakugo knew he was wearing training undies, the bulk and dino design on them gave them away. 'fucking leave fucking leave fucking leave!' Bakugo thought, of course today of all days he had humored his mother and wore the trainers. "Can you stay in here and make sure the toilet doesn't eat me?" Bakugo asked out loud, as he tugged his trainers down and then sat down on the potty, a hand going down to make sure his less then stellar member stayed pointed in the bowl as he started to go tinkle. "Pffft, why would the toilet eat you little guy?" "Momma told me bad boys who don't feed it enough get eaten so I try and give it lots but I tinkle my pants a lot and poop'em too sometimes." "Ooooh I see." Inasa said, his grin growing. "I'll stay here and protect you then. don't worry." 'I'm fucking nuking that old lady AND her show when this wears off.' Bakugo swore. After finishing up with piddle, Bakugo stayed on the bowel for a few and grunted, trying to make poopies but when it was clear it was a no go he slid off and dabbed at his hairless sex with some tissues then tossed them in the potty and flushed. "So are you naturally hairless or do you shave?" "oh! no hair down there. Momma said not all boys grow up at the same rate." "Ahhh. I think I understand why you're always so mad." Inasa said. this went over the little persona's head but mentally.. 'Oh fuck you and the horse you rode in on. fucking bastard!' "Ummm Mister Inasa?" Bakugo asked, his undies pulled up and having stepped out of the jeans. he was rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet and poking his fingers together. "yeah Lil guy?" Inasa asked, having a feeling what the little guy was about to ask. "Could you mayyyybe help me get one of my diapies on? I don't wanna hafa bug you ta come in and protect me every time I need use the potty." Bakugo said, blushing and going from pointing his fingers together to rubbing the back of his head, looking sheepish. 'don't you fucking dare say yes!' Bakugo roared, positive that if nothing else, every telepathic quirk in a 30 block radius heard his cry. "of course I'll help you!" Inasa gushed and ruffled Bakugo's head. 'their never gonna find the body.' Bakugo promised himself, fuming. Getting the bulky diaper on Bakugo wasn't as hard as Inasa had feared it would be, though he had a feeling the only reason Bakugo was being good as gold was the effects of the quirk he was under. The little guy in attuide (and some parts of his body) had dashed off to his room while Inasa took out the items from the bag and opened up the pack of pacifiers and taken out one of the thick diapers. He'd been about to ask Bakugo what he was doing when the little guy came out with a teddy bear print changing pad and a yellow diaper shirt with a teddy bear head printed on the front. "Momma got me these ta make my diapering and stuff easier!" Bakugo giggled as he set them down, then tugged off his shirt showing no armpit or chest hair. "I see~ your momma is one smart cookie huh?" "UH-HUH!" 'My mother is a sick bitch who wants to shame me into stopping!' Bakugo fumed. Far too soon though his naked butt was resting on the thick white diaper, and then he was powdered (WAY too much, he was sure some of it was gonna fly out the sides when he farted!) then the stupid diaper shirt was snapped up. to finish off the look Inasa offered up a paci, one with a yellow mouth guard to match the diaper shirt of course and Bakugo happily took, nursing on it lots and sitting up, holding out his arms for uppies. '...Ok I have to be able to black out or something. I'll give up full control and everything for the full god damn time limit, just let me blank out.' He mentally pleaded, but at last, he was fully away as Inasa picked him up and put a arm under his his butt, letting him snuggle into him. 'Seriously, the fuck did i do to deserve this!?!' Bakugo whined mentally even as he giggled out loud. As his behavior in the store flashed though his mind he just sulked and tried to lose himself as Inasa carried him over to watch some cartoons. Inasa blushed a little as they sat on the couch. he'd always thought Bakugo could of been cute if he just would stop being such a grump all the time and well, this proved his point. As a toddler in a big boy body he was just SO freaking adorable. and that was before the little guy snuggled into his side, sucking away on his paci while they watched some cartoons that had been recorded on the DVR. "having fun?" Inasa asked, putting a arm around the Lil guy. Bakugo nodded his head and smiled behind his paci, though Inasa was sure that mentally, he was being called every name in the book. "You want a snack or something?" Bakugo shook his head now, and wrapped his arms around Inasa,making clear he was his snuggle buddy for at least a little longer. "Alright. just do me a little favor and give me a heads up before you go boom boom ok buddy?" Inasa asked, and ruffled Bakugo's hair. 'Code brown code brown! get me out of this fucking diaper and on the potty!' Bakugo mentally cried out, feeling the need growing. to his horror his body however just nodded and snuggled back in, either unaware or wanting to surprise Inasa. Bakugo of course wasn't a stranger to loading his diapers, at least in his sleep, it had happened often enough he knew the feeling and how to ID the smell by now. going in his diapers while awake, and on purpose however was NOT something he ever wanted to experience and he fought hard against the forces keeping him from controlling his own body to get a semblance of freedom back. Sucking hard on the paci, Bakugo started to grunt a little and Inasa looked down, smirking and knowing what the little guy was doing, or at least trying to do and debated on calling him out, but in the end decided to leave the naughty lil stinker to it, and just moved a hand down to the boys rump now and then, checking for signs of squishyness. As it turned out he needed of checked, as a muffled poot and a bunch of giggles from behind the paci let Inasa knock that the boy's efforts were paying off, still, as the farts came one after anther there was only a faint whiff of baby powder and then a fruity smell (the stinky smell protection from the diapers of course) and so he moved his hand down to check. Sure enough the bottom was puffing out and there was a squishy feel. "Bakugo, didn't I ask you for a heads up?" Inasa scolded lightly, but kept smirking. 'this is so fucking grosssssss!' the blond wailed in his mind. Bakugo on the outside however just put a little look of 'who me, and pointed at himself. "yes you you little diaper filler. Oh well, might as well keep going. not like you smell terrible..yet. I'm sure it'll be a sucker punch when i go to change you." Inasa laughed and Bakugo snuggled into him. 'This is gonna be a LONG fucking 3 days.' Bakugo whined, wishing he'd of just gotten his diapers without being a brat. The End

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lvehui · 6 years ago

Text

this isn't what i meant by family bonding - jeongcheol ft. chan

genre: fluff and slight angst but really it's just panic

word count: 1.8k

DKFJDSJFKSJFSD AHHHHHHHHHH

ok i should've been more detailed and through but no. but anyways!! enjoy hahaha

in which seungcheol, jeonghan, and their baby chan go to ikea to do some family bonding. and of course, things go wrong.

Seungcheol loves his family, he really does, but sometimes... just sometimes, he contemplates every choice he's made ever made during his twenty-four years of being alive; especially the one that led to being in Ikea at eleven in the morning, barely awake as he pushes a large metal cart through the household emporium. But Seungcheol manages to refrain from dozing off, mainly because his toddler son, Chan, keeps slapping his face with his tiny baby hands.

That and the fact that he knows Jeonghan will throw a fit if he doesn't participate in their 'family bonding.'

So he listens to Jeonghan's endless, out loud debate with himself about what chairs they should get for their dining room. Seungcheol would be concerned about his husband's behavior if he didn't know him--- but he does know him, so he's gotten used to Jeonghan's nit-picky, overthinking personality.

(And his tendency to do too much.)

"Okay, okay, okay," Jeonghan says as if he's starting a powerpoint presentation to pitch an idea. "Which one says, 'financially stable, but mentally unstable'?" Before Seungcheol knows it, his husband is already dragging a random chair next to the one in front of him. One chair is dark brown while the other chair is light brown. Other than that they look highly similar. "Nordviken or Lerhamn?"

Seungcheol looks at each one, trying to form an opinion that doesn't exist. Finally, he replies, "Um, the one that sounds less German."

"It's Swedish!" Jeonghan overdramatically exclaims, obviously appalled by his husband's lack of knowledge about the cultural origins of the company. "How can you even say that?"

Seungcheol doesn't answer Jeonghan's question and instead replies with, "...I love you?"

"I love you too," Jeonghan says, fondness in his voice, before he adding, "But go choke."

Chan giggles and lightly smacks Seungcheol's right cheek again, legs kicking in the front of the cart. In a giddy tone, he repeats, "Yeah, appa, go choke!"

Jeonghan shoots Seungcheol a glare as if it was his fault for their son saying that, and turns to the boy sitting in the seat in the cart. Instantaneously, he switches to his angelic, paternal side, going all heart-eyes when he sees Chan.

"Channie, don't say that to appa, okay? I'm the only one who can say that," Jeonghan tells his son, who is carefully listening to him, lips cutely pressing together.

"Okay," Chan says, in tiny font voice.

Jeonghan fixes Chan's baby hairs. His four-year-old son sways side to side, his heavy lil' head making him unbalanced, but adorable nonetheless.

"Whose baby are you?" Jeonghan asks Chan, who happily responds, "Appa's!"

This makes Jeonghan squish Chan's soft cheeks more than he already is, a little blush forming upon them. "That's right! You're my baby," Jeonghan says, acting like he hasn't heard his son say this before. He nuzzles their noses together and gives Chan three pecks on the same cheek. "Jeonghannie's baby!"

Seungcheol sighs, but a small smile graces his face. Then, he jokingly remarks, "Hey, you make it sound like you're a single parent."

Jeonghan whips around to acknowledge his husband and gives him a little huff, "I might be if you don't help me pick out some go---" Chan looks at him. "---gosh darn furniture. We can't keep eating and sleeping on the floor forever."

"What? We can't?" Seungcheol responds, cheekily. "I was totally into this camping indoors thing we had going on." A random stuffed animal prop is thrown at Seungcheol's face by Jeonghan, which he barely dodges. "I'm just kidding, I'm just kidding," he laughs, before reassuring his husband, "We're going to get the chairs, the bed, and everything else, and then we'll have our dream home and live happily ever after. The end."

His effort at soothing Jeonghan works, or at least, for the most part. "Speaking of beds, honey, it would splendid if you could browse for some while I look at these chairs again."

Seungcheol grins confidently, ready to take on the task. "Alright, no problem. You'll be saying, 'Wow this bed is so nice, I might f---" Chan slaps at his head. "---frick you in it.'" Seungcheol repeats in a small coo, "Frick."

Chan giggles and tries to bite Seungcheol's finger, failing to his utter disappointment. Jeonghan tsks, then begins to take the cart from Seungcheol's hands. "Well, appa, me and Channie will be over here---"

"I'll take Chan," Seungcheol tells Jeonghan. "You're always smothering him and we barely get to hang out. Plus you'll probably be too distracted by him to find the best chair ever, you know?" Seungcheol unbuckles Chan and takes the small boy into his arms. Chan pinches Seungcheol's cheek with his fingers. "So just leave him to me, we'll be fine, and I'll call you when we're done!"

Before Jeonghan can even attempt to argue, Seungcheol gives him a kiss on the cheek, and Chan does the same.

He can't say no to that, can he?

---

Seungcheol doesn't know what happened. One minute, he and Chan were looking at beds, jumping on them, and feeling how utterly soft they were when they laid down against them. The next minute, he was sleeping with Chan on his chest, on one of the king-sized showroom beds, only to be awoken by a concerned employee who awkwardly informs him, "Sir, these beds are only for display..."

Bashfully, Seungcheol apologizes and pulls himself together, away from the heaven he called a mattress. Whew, I must've been tired, the man thought, I really dozed off in the middle of a store.

"Channie, we gotta go, baby," Seungcheol mumbles, rubbing his eyes. Then he yawns. "Appa is going to be wondering why we haven't called him yet." Jeonghan was probably going to gripe about how they were going to miss all of the Swedish meatballs in the cafeteria and Chan would never have the full Ikea experience. Oh, the woe.

"Sir, who are you talking to?" the same employee says, still standing there, creeping the shit out of Seungcheol, who is now confused. "Are you talking to me? Because my name is Mingyu---"

"What?" Seungcheol asks, wondering if he isn't registering this conversation properly. "I'm talking to my son?"

The employee--- Mingyu--- scrunches his eyebrows and double-checks the space around Seungcheol, who is doing the same thing. "Son?"

Seungcheol's eyes go wide with realization when he sees that there's no little boy on the bed, under the bed, or within the bedsheets. (Yes, he really checked.) Quickly, his line of sight shifts from showroom to showroom, none showing signs of a little three-year-old boy.

"My son," Seungcheol says, agape. He can't form sentences because he's too shocked and can't fathom anything right now. "Who isn't here."

Apprehension blooms in Mingyu as he finds himself caught in a very unlucky and serious situation, but tries to calm the storm before it starts. "Sir, I'll call security and have someone announce that there is a missing child---"

Seungcheol shakes his head back and forth, and so do his hands. "No, no, no, please don't announce it. My husband will hear and he will have my ass---"

"Hear what?" a familiar voice asks, "And have your ass? For what reason?"

Jeonghan, who had been finding his way to the bed section, tilts his head with curiosity. Its a shame really, because his face is so soft right now, and Seungcheol doesn't want to be the one to ruin that innocent expression. And he certainly doesn't want to be the bearer of bad news, but of course, he can't avoid the question. And he also can't lie for shit.

So he looks up, down, left, right, and then all around before mumuring, "...Channie... I can't find him."

Jeonghan laughs, not getting it. "Were you guys playing hide and seek or something?" Seungcheol avoids eye contact with his husband, ashamed of himself, but also scared. "Is he around here?"

Seungcheol opens his mouth, then closes it, and then: "Uhm... not really?"

"What do you mean, 'not really?'"

"Not really... as in... not really, I just uh, fell asleep on one of these beds, which are, um, well, really comfortable and soft enough to make you wanna sleep in it if you're... you know, sleepy, haha, and um, well, when I woke up he was kinda gone..?"

Jeonghan stares at him. There's no emotion on his face, but Seungcheol knows to take a couple of steps back. "Kinda gone?"

"Totally gone," Mingyu adds, earning a smack from Seungcheol, a stranger.

"TOTALLY GONE?!" Jeonghan explodes, causing both Seungcheol and Mingyu to wince. "I left you with our son, OUR son, for like what? Thirty minutes? You couldn't watch him for thirty minutes?"

Seungcheol grabs at his husband's shoulders and tries to calm him down, but is panicking himself. "Hannie, Hannie, I'm sorry, this is my fault---"

"IT IS YOUR FAULT, YOU ASSHOLE---"

"Calling me an asshole won't fix anything---"

"It won't! But it will make me feel a lot better!"

"You guys, please--- OW, WHY ARE YOU HITTING ME?!"

"YOU'RE IN THE WAY---"

Jeonghan is about to snap when they all hear, "Appa?"

The sound of a familiar tiny voice makes them both turn around, slowly. And when they do, it's their son, all of him, in one piece, even his chubby cheeks and choppy hair (still flicking upwards). With him is another adult, holding his hand, sharp eyes looking from side to side at the mess in front of him. "So, I found... this young man wandering around the downstairs cafeteria."

Chan cheerfully holds up a meatball in his barefist, getting smooshed. With some food in his mouth he says, "Woo Woo got me food!"

Mingyu snickers, "Woo Woo?"

Wonwoo--- it says that on his chest--- refrains from flipping his fellow employee off and instead looks to the parents. "I've been asking everyone if they knew who this boy was, and then I got the message from Mingyu that a boy was missing... and then... well, you guys were obviously upset, so I put two and two together."

Chan lets go of Wonwoo's hand and runs into Seungcheol's arms. Seungcheol easily lifts him into the air and then kisses his face all over, not even noticing the tears of relief and happiness running down his cheeks. "You little rascal... I'm sorry."

Jeonghan joins to the reunion, also crying, but harder. A smile is on his face, though, while he leans into the other two loves of his life. "Stupid... this isn't what I meant by family bonding... Ugh."

All of these tears confuse Chan, who frowns and, with his free hand, wipes at them off their faces. "What's wrong, appa?"

"Nothing," Jeonghan answers, as Seungcheol's head leans against his. "We just love you so much, it hurts!"

Chan kisses both of their cheeks, and a warm feeling covers all of them like a blanket, right in the middle of Ikea.

#lee chan #jeonghan #cheollie #seventeen #jeongcheol

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nancythebisexualslutwheeler · 5 years ago

Text

Tutor AU Pt 2

Part One Being Richie’s boyfriend is wild. He doesn’t have a lot of friends, but somehow everyone knows him. Triple B- Ben, Bev and Bill have no problem switching lunch tables to sit by Richie and Richie’s friends Stan and Mike. Though Eddie and Richie don't spend much time at the table, Richie usually sneaks out for a smoke break.

Eddie doesn’t smoke but always accompanies him, mostly because there tends to be a little kissing in between cigarettes. He never thought he’d be okay with that, but Richie makes him question everything.

***

Richie gives Eddie his leather jacket after a track meet. Eddie very pointedly doesn’t give it back. He sometimes sits in class with it, or in his bed late at night and tilts his nose into the fabric so he can smell Richie’s cologne. It’s just comforting, okay?

***

Since Richie can never set foot on Eddie’s street, Richie invites Eddie over for dinner. He’s not sure what to expect from Richie’s parents. Maggie is short and wide and wears her hair in a French braid and smiles so hard and so sincerely. Went is tall and thin and claps Eddie on the back at least three times.

She’d made spaghetti. Well, supervised, she said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well Richie’s the best chef in the house. He makes the sauce from scratch.”

“Oh wow! That’s...” he looks over at Richie whose cheeks are red.

His parents go upstairs, and they wash the dishes together and then sit on the couch. Richie turns on Netflix. They’ve barely finished an episode of NCIS when his phone starts ringing.

He pulls it out of his pocket and then walks over to the corner of the room near the patio door and answers it. Eddie hums a song in his head so he doesn’t eavesdrop.

“I’ve gotta go. Um, can you get home alright?” He asks, which is weird, he usually drives Eddie home.

Of course Eddie can take a hint, but Richie doesn’t offer any other information which is weird.

***

It’s not the last time it happens either. He cuts dates short or straight up blows off dates to accommodate whosoever number kept appearing on his phone.

***

Eddie is at the mall with his mom when he sees them. Richie is looking good as always in a Queen shirt and black jeans, even though it’s a warm fall day. He’s holding a toddler in his arms who can’t be more than two years old. Richie says hi, and Eddie’s mom stares.

“Eddie you know this, young man?” She grits out.

Richie’s eyes narrow before his face smoothes into a wide smile and he holds out a hand,

“Hello ma’am, yes Eddie tutors me in math. I’m not so good at it. I’m Richie Tozier.”

She stares at his hand until he retracts it,

“Oh, you’re Maggie’s son.”

His eyes narrow again and Eddie grabs his mom’s arm,

“Mom, let’s go.”

“I just knew-”

“Mom!”

She pulls her arm away,

“Eddie, I’m just saying,”

Richie’s body is pulled like a bow string and his face is daring her to say something.

“We’ve gotta go. Remember? New towels?”

“Fine.”

Eddie leads his mom away, as if if he lets go of her, she’ll go back and curse Richie to hell.

***

He doesn’t even think about the child again until he gets home when he texts Richie,

Eddie: You didn’t tell me you had another sister.

The response takes longer than normal. Usually Richie texts him back within seconds.

Richie: …. I don’t.

Eddie hesitates. They’ve only been dating about two months, but it feels like a lifetime. For Eddie at least. Well not a lifetime, but Eddie is falling hard. He tries to picture the child, but he had been so worried about his mom talking to Richie that he wasn’t even paying attention. The thing was that he heard about Maggie Tozier all the way home, and he hadn’t wanted that sort of wrath released on Richie.

Eddie: She’s… yours?

He hesitates before sending the message, before he finally does, right after he chooses to dial Richie’s number instead. It goes straight to voicemail.

Eddie: Really?

Richie: Nothing to say champ. We’re done.

Eddie: What? Why? What did I do?

He calls again. It goes to voicemail.

***

He knows it’s lame to ride his bike but his boyfriend, well okay the person he’s been dating, isn’t answering and there’s a whole lot that needs to be discussed. Like nine months worth of a lot.

He doesn’t expect Richie to answer the door with baby food stains on his shirt and arms. He looks just as freaked out to see Eddie. He quickly steps out and shuts the door halfway,

“What?”

“What do you mean what? You’re not answering my calls?”

“I’m a little busy,” he says rudely.

Eddie hesitates, Richie is intimidating, he is. But usually he’s so nice and kind that Eddie kind of forgets that he can come off as cold.

“You are my boyfriend right?” Eddie asks quietly, rocking back and forth on his feet.

Richie’s face softens,

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Then let me in and let’s talk about this.”

Talk about how Richie has a kid. A whole human being. Richie hesitates.

“I’m in the middle of something Eddie.”

Eddie knows he’s being desperate and clingy, but Richie had said they were done and that wasn’t okay with him,

“I’ll wait.”

Richie shifts from foot to foot,

“I don’t introduce people to her.”

Eddie nods, ready to apologize, but then Richie opens the door. Eddie can sense his hesitation, and the baby is crying. Not actively, but little hiccups and Richie strides over to the kitchen and immediately starts feeding her what Eddie assumes are the baby food version of carrots. She’s adorable, even with mashed food in her face and hair. She has dark blonde hair, her ears pierced and Richie’s blue eyes. Richie must be able to feel Eddie’s stare and he blushes,

“Well sit down.”

Eddie sits. Tries to remember any pregnant girls in their grade. Then in their school. There was a freshman, three juniors and a couple senior girls.

“Who?”

“Do you remember Wendy Miller?”

Wendy Miller was a blonde Barbie doll who switched schools at the end of last year, finishing her senior year somewhere else. Eddie feels a sting of jealousy, wondering how he’s supposed to compete with that.

“She’s beautiful,” Eddie offers instead.

“Thank you. Her name is Anastasia.”

“Big name for such a little girl.”

Richie bops her nose,

“She’ll grow into it.”

“I’ve never seen her before.”

Richie shrugs,

“I don’t introduce people to my kid.”

“It’s been two months.”

“Keeping track are we?” he teases.

“Richie, this is serious.”

“That’s why I said we’re done. There’s no,” He hesitates as Anastasia bangs the spoon on the tray of the high chair, flinging carrot residue everywhere, “I’m sorry, I should have told you. I was being selfish. I just wanted this to last.”

“Who says it can’t last?”

“You’re seventeen.”

“You’re nineteen!” he argues back.

“And I had eight months to prepare. I signed up for this. Wendy and I signed up for this. You didn’t.”

Eddie hesitates because Richie isn’t wrong.

“Do you have her full time?”

“We have 50/50 custody.”

“How old is she?”

“She’ll be a year next month.”

“That’s exciting.”

“I know! I can’t believe it. My mom is like, wanting to go to Disney World and I’m like calm down there Mags.”

Eddie laughs,

“Aw, and your sister likes her?”

“More now than when she didn’t sleep through the night.”

“Can’t blame her there.”

He can’t imagine Richie with a baby any smaller than this. The thought is almost incomprehensible. This is Richie. Who smokes cigarettes and is at every one of Eddie’s meets and didn’t graduate the first time. And he’s in charge of a whole human. Eddie isn’t trying to be judgemental but he doesn’t get why people aren’t more careful. Richie must see the judgment on his face because the smile disappears.

“You don’t have to be here,” he says harshly.

“No, I want to, I do. It’s just a lot.”

Richie shakes his head,

“Maybe you should go.”

“No, Richie please, I’m sorry,”

Richie stands up, and unstraps Anastasia before pulling her out,

“I need to give her a bath anyway. I’ll try to call you later.”

***

He doesn’t call. He doesn’t call Sunday, and he’s not in school on Monday.

***

Eddie doesn’t eat dinner on Saturday or Sunday, and his mom fawns after him the entire day, she doesn’t even go to church. Monday drags by and he calls Richie again, and it goes to voicemail, again.

***

He doesn’t even know if it’s worth it to go to by his house, so he invites Bev over instead. They’re sitting on Eddie’s bed eating pizza and ice cream with music playing in the background. His mom is at her book club, so as long as he hides the receipt and they eat on his freshly stripped bed, they should be okay.

“Richie wasn’t at school,” she points out. Like it’s just a random observation.

“Yeah I don’t know what that’s about,” he shrugs.

“But you do know something. Eddie what’s up?”

He takes a deep breath.

“Richie has a daughter. Her name is Anastasia. She’s really cute actually,”

“What the hell? A kid? Eddie, that's a huge deal.”

“I know,” Eddie moans.

“A whole kid?”

“No half a kid,” he rolls his eyes, “I think I upset him.”

“Upset him?” She screeches, “it’s been months! Did he even tell you? Eddie, this isn’t okay.”

“I know, I know, but I think I love him.”

“Oh honey.”

They don’t really talk about it after that.

***

If he’d thought Bev reacted badly, then Bill’s was terrible. They go for burgers on Wednesday after school. Richie still hasn’t been in school or answered his phone.

He’s just getting ready to drown himself in his brownie sundae when his phone dings.

Richie: hey can u come over

Eddie pauses and it sings again.

Richie: plz

Eddie quickly types out a response and Bill is like “Be careful Ed.”

***

Richie looks like shit. He smells like beer. He looks wrecked and Eddie’s defenses are up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Stasia’s been sick. It was just a cold and then she got a fever and it spiked. We were in the hospital last night- she, she’s fine, sorry I should have led with that. But I haven’t slept and I’m so tired and my heart hurts,” he’s breathing heavy and Eddie walks him to the couch.

***

After Richie says Anastasia is safe at home with her mom, and he eats a piece of peanut butter toast and drinks a glass of juice, he reaches for Eddie. He can tell Richie wants to cuddle, but he doesn’t know where they stand and he hesitates. But then Richie stares at him with his big old eyes and asks him if he will nap with him.

“I’m just so tired, but I can’t sleep. It was so scary Eds.”

Eddie pats his back,

“I’m sure it was. But she’s okay, yeah? It’ll be alright.”

So they go lay down and Richie is under the blanket and Eddie is over the blanket and Eddie kisses Richie’s forehead and holds his hand as he falls asleep. Richie looks like an angel when he’s asleep. His hair is a mess, he has freckles on his nose and he hasn’t shaved in a few days. Eddie plays on his phone for a while until Richie curls himself around him. Then he shuts off his phone and lays down. They find themselves tangled up together when Maggie knocks on the door a few hours later.

***

Eddie quickly leaves and Richie promises to call him. Eddie actually has to talk to his mother when he gets home and they eat another hotdish and spend another night talking about nothing. He showers and lays down, prepared to turn on the tv. Richie calls and they talk about Maggie freaking out about him sleeping over, and how Anastasia is doing. Eddie convinces Richie to come to school the next day and hang out with him after school. Which results in Eddie skipping a track meet.

***

Bill flips out and goes off on Richie at lunch. Eddie has never missed a track meet. Ever. He was extremely dedicated and needed a scholarship to get away from his mom.

“All I know is that he’s never missed a track meet before you. And he hasn’t been hanging out with us as much. You just want him at your beck and call while you use him for a notch in your belt!”

They haven’t even done more than makeout so he’s shocked that Bill has jumped to that conclusion. Eddie blushes, feeling embarrassed that his friends are making him seem like a child.

“He’s not just a warm body to me!”

Bill’s mouth twists,

“Is that what you tell them all? Is that what you told Wendy?”

Richie is out of his seat in a second, Mike jumps up and grabs his arm and Eddie is scared he’s going to start swinging. Ben is strong enough to hold Bill back but the two boys struggle. Tears spring to Eddie’s eyes and he pushes himself up from the table. He’s blinded by tears and he doesn’t know where he’s going, he just knows he has to get away from the yelling and fighting and suddenly he can’t breathe and he pulls his inhaler out of his pocket and sinks down against a locker.

Surprisingly it’s Mike who sinks down next to him. He can’t stop crying. Everyone’s right about him, he is a little, sick baby. Mike doesn’t touch him, just sits close to him.

“It’s okay.”

“No it’s not, this is my fault!” he wails.

Mike shakes his head,

“No, Richie should have been upfront.”

“You knew?”

Mike looks at him confused,

“Yes. Richie has been my friend since we were in diapers. I’m Anastasia’s godfather.”

Eddie looks at him wide eyed,

“That’s a big responsibility.”

“Richie is like my brother.”

They sit quietly for a few minutes.

“He really likes you. I know he does.”

Eddie’s mouth twists to the side,

“If you say so.”

Mike looks up at him. He has such a serious face,

“I do. And if you like him, at all, I think you should give him a chance.”

“I know nothing about kids. I’m an only child and I have no cousins or anything.”

“He’ll teach you. And it’s not like he’s gonna throw you in to step-daddy, or even make you watch her. He will respect your boundaries.”

“We talking about the same Richie?”

Mike’s eyebrows raise, and that seems to be as much of a facial expression as he can muster.

“Sorry, I’m joking.”

“Does he not treat you well?”

Eddie starts shaking his head immediately,

“Of course he does!”

Mike gives him an exactly look.

***

Bill and Bev apologize but Richie still won’t answer his calls. He supposes it’s his turn again to show up unannounced.

Richie looks wrecked, again. He assumes Anastasia is still sick, but Richie looks happy to see him, even if it’s just a little. Eddie pulls Richie in for a hug and he buries his face in his neck. It’s been too long.

“Surprised to see you here,” Richie says, running a hand over his face.

“One day you’re gonna stop being surprised. I want to date you, stop trying to get rid of me.”

“Even with Anastasia? Because it’s going to be really hard,”

“If I start quoting The Notebook right now, will you punch me?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well I want to try. More than try. Richie, I’m in love with you.”

He beams behind his glasses,

“I’m in love with you, Eddie spaghetti.”

“Oh god, is that a dad joke? It is, isn’t it?”

Richie just laughs harder and pulls Eddie against his chest in a hug, and Eddie tips his head up to kiss him softly.

#reddie #Reddie fan fiction #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrack #bill denbrough #Beverly marsh #mike hanlon #stanley uris #ben hanscom #it 2017 #it 2019 #my writing

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hannahmcne · 5 years ago

Text

Mommy Grew Up Different - Multiplications

"Alright Zach, what's three times two?" Ben asks his three-year-old son, kneeling down beside his bed and smiling as the child counts on his pudgy toddler fingers.

"Six," Zach replies and looks at Ben expectantly. Ben's smile stretches even wider.

"That's right!" He applauds, holding a hand up for a high-five. "What's six times three?"

That was a harder one, but they'd gradually been moving into bigger numbers the last few weeks. Zach furrows his brow. He counts on his fingers, folds his arms across his chest, and then analyzes his covers in deep thought. Ben hears a noise from the hallway and briefly looks over to see Mal leaning against the doorway, furrowing her brow the same Zach is as she listens. She must have already finished putting their other son, Tyler, to bed. That means he's running behind.

"Eighteen," Zach replies, brightening up as he remembers the answer.

Ben laughs. "That's right!" He exclaims and then pushes up off the floor to sit beside the small child on the bed. Zach scoots over against the wall and pats his blue striped sheets, indicating Ben can move forward. Ben chuckles and reaches across the bed to pick up the book his son had picked out. "Alright, champ, are we reading about Rapunzel and Eugene tonight, or are we - what's this?" Ben raises an eyebrow as Zach reaches out for the thick book in excitement.

"It's my word book," Zach explains, snuggling into his pillow and opening it up. "Aunt Jane said all the kids in the high schools get one, and she gave me this one to keep. See? My name is on it." He holds the book close to his nose, flips through the pages, and takes a deep inhale. "It smells like a good book," he mumbles as he curls into Ben's side. "She said it'd help me learn new words."

"It's called a dictionary," Ben raises an eyebrow, fighting a little smile as he looks up to see Mal still looking at them confusedly in the doorway. "Dad used to read through this when he was younger too. Not as young as you, though. You can look through it to find words you don't know or go through and see which ones you do know."

Zach nods, opens to the first page, and skims down the entries. He skips over the letter 'A's and goes straight for the first long word he sees. "Aardvark," he announces, nuzzling his sandy blonde hair into Ben's side as Ben leans back against the headboard and starts combing his fingers through Zach's hair. "An animal with a long snout and a long sticky tongue that feeds mostly on termites and is active at night." He looks up at Ben with his finger on that last description. "That means they're nocturnal like cats, right?"

Ben chuckles. He can't believe how much his son knows. He's well aware it isn't normal for a kid to be this knowledgeable, but he isn't going to we complain too much. It's nice to have someone to talk to like this. "That's right," He agrees. "Like cats and snakes and lizards and things."

"It must live in a hot climate," Zach reasons. "And it moves at night when it's not so hot."

Ben hears Mal shift in the doorway and he glances up to see she's dropped her hands in something like surprise. He smiles up at her, and though he can't see her expression, he figures it must be something like pride. She hasn't been able to come in to help him put Zach to sleep the last few months as Tyler tends to turn his furniture into animals when he's anxious for bedtime and she usually has to round up and return a herd or two to its original form. Zach, however, doesn't have magic and prefers reading aloud to his parents as part of his bedtime routine, so that's pretty easy for Ben to cover as Mal tried to calm Tyler down. However, he was exhausted tonight, so Mal gets to listen in on what he and Tyler usually work on in the evenings.

"Abacus," Zach reads. "An instrument for doing arithmetic by sliding counters along rods or in grooves."

Ben puts his finger down on the word 'arithmetic'. "What's that mean, champ?" He asks.

"Math," Zach shrugs. "It's like what we've been working on. Multiplications. Like two times two and six times six."

"Which is?" Ben prompts, and Zach puts the book down to tap his index fingers together.

"Four and thirty-six," Zach announces. "Which together are forty."

"Good job," Ben smiles over at Mal. She is standing very still in the doorway, and he can't tell if she's breathing or not. Zach keeps reading, mumbling by his side, and Mal slowly creeps into the room to hover by the foot of the bed. Zach finishes reading about 'abolitionist' and then reaches for a pencil on his headboard to circle the word, indicating he's interested in learning more about it. Ben isn't surprised - it's the same kind of concept he lives for. He leans forward to take Mal's hand and it's then that he realizes her face is drawn and taut and she's staring down at the book in Zach's lap like it's an evil thing she doesn't want around her son. Ben frowns. "What's wrong?" He asked.

Zach looks up immediately and sets the pencil and book aside. "Mommy..." He whines, leaning on his knees with his arms outstretched. "Are you feeling sad?"

"No, baby," Mal smiles a little tight, scared smile. He knows the look, but he hasn't seen it for a while. Not since Zach was born. There's the occasional exception - when their toddlers go near stairs or when they first started standing or when Ben tosses them into the air, but for the most part, he doesn't see the 'I don't like this at all' face. She takes Zach into her arms and hugs him tightly, and Ben tilts his head at her while Zach's head is turned away. She ignores him, which raises Ben's concern even more.

Ben puts a hand on Zach's back. "Bud, it's time for bed," he announces. "I'll read more of your new dictionary with you tomorrow, but Mom and Dad had a long day today. You can stay up a little longer and read, or you can go to bed now."

"I'll go to bed," Zach yawns. He climbs back into his covers and then pushes the dictionary away. "You can answer my questions later." Ben snorts, pulls the covers up around the little three-year-old, and then kisses his hair as Zach closes his eyes. He and Mal walk to the door, glancing back every so often as parents are wont to do. Ben lets her into the hall before him, shuts the door softly, and then turns with an open mouth to reask Mal what happened. He doesn't get a syllable out before she's practically exploded into rushed whispers.

"You're doing multiplication with him?" She demands, clutching her hair. "And he's reading a dictionary? He's four! He's not even four - he'll be four in three months! How long has this been going on?"

Ben blinks. "Is it a problem?" He asks. "You already knew he liked reading."

"Well, I mean, I'm glad that he's smart and everything, but..." Mal chews on her lip with wide eyes darting back and forth without landing on him. "Don't you think he's too young?"

"He's gifted," Ben shrugs. "I have no idea where he gets it from, but he catches on so quickly. We've been doing multiplication together now for almost two weeks. I'm trying to get him to learn his fours and sixes."

"I thought you were doing additions?" Mal questions, biting her lip and turning from one side to the other as if she can't decide which direction she wants to go. "I thought you were going to be starting subtractions once he got the hang of it."

"We did," Ben shrugged. "He caught on really fast. He can do two-digit addition and subtractions in his head and everything else on paper. So I moved to multiplication." He catches her hand as she spins around in a frantic circle. "Hey - what's the issue here? He's smart, so what?"

Mal rips her hand free only to wave it in front of her like she burned it and she's trying to shake off the pain. "I don't know that stuff, Ben!" She snaps in a whisper. "What's a noc- a n- an animal at night! and multiplication is like... second grade here, right?"

"Third," Ben corrects quietly.

"That's not better!" Mal snaps. "Why is he growing up so fast? Why is he learning so much? I mean, I'm happy - I am! He's such a brilliant, perfect boy, but he's going to grow up thinking I'm a dunce because I can't answer any of those questions!"

"You can't answer what six times six is?" Ben drawls slowly, though he understands her panic now. Auradon schooling system is intimidating enough to Mal, whose Dragon Hall classes barely taught them to read and write. If not for Yen Sid, the vast majority of Island Children would have had to retake elementary courses in High school, and some of them still can't read or write.

"Of course I can!" Mal snaps. "But... but... he's going this fast and he's just going to keep going! I just had my baby Ben - I don't want him to be big yet!"

"You're not going to lose him," Ben tells her, taking her hands and squeezing them tightly. "Mal, he adores you. Did you see how sad he got when he thought you were sad in there? You're his whole world. He and Tyler both think you're the literal sun." He drags her into his arms and lets her claw around at his collarbone for a hold before wrapping her hands around his back and letting out a little breath.

She's a good mom. She lifts Zach up to pick books off of higher shelves and retrieves toys that Tyler likes to hurl across the room and she lets all three of them - Ben included - curl into her when they watch movies together and she's the stabilizing rock that holds his little family together. But he gets how this scares her. After all, Zach won't be little forever, and his questions are only going to get more complex and hard to answer.

________________________________________________________________

Tyler gets a little older to where he's now three and Zach is four and Tyler is no longer attempting to create a zoo in his bedroom before bedtime. Ben and Mal start rotating again, and Mal learns very quickly that Zach's bedtime routine is now very far out of her depth. A stack of various encyclopedias - some children's and some not - sit beside his bed with his dog-eared and marked-up dictionary in a prized position on his headboard. She manages to help her baby get through brushing teeth and pajamas without fumbling too much, but then Zach is curling up into his pillow and pulling the blue comforter he got at Christmastime around his shoulders as Mal skins the spines of the encyclopedias for something she recognizes. "The Plant World", one reads. "How Government Works - for children", says another. "You can speak French!" a third announces.

"Can we read my dictionary?" Zach asks after patiently waiting about thirty seconds as Mal examines each of the unfamiliar titles beside his bed. Mal nods with a swallow and Zach retrieves his blue and white dictionary and opens it up in the middle. She takes a deep breath to calm herself and then panics again when the first word Zach reads is unfamiliar.

"Minuend," He mumbles as he lays his head down on her shirt and leans the book open on her legs. "A number from which another number is to be subtracted."

Mal's skin crawls. Now that she's thinking about it, the word sounds vaguely familiar in the back of her head. Maybe it was included in a lesson years ago or something. But the fact she didn't know it is the problem. If he asks any questions, what will she say?

Luckily, most of the words are pretty straightforward and there isn't a lot that she misses. There are mislead and mission and mistake, all of which are pretty okay, and then the occasional word like mirth or a mite.

"Mite - o - chon - drian," Zach sounds out and then pauses to yawn. "One of the parts found in the cytoplasm of a cell outside the nucleus that provides the cell with energy released from the breakdown of nutrients."

"Baby, do you know what that means?" Mal blurts out. Her head is spinning. It's somehow easier to remember what the various terms mean from her high school classes when Zach is sounding out the big words so carefully, but she still only has a vague recollection of what it means.

Zach nods. "We're made up of cells," he explains, running a hand up his arm. "And cells have DNA that tells them how we need to be built. And this is part of a cell that makes energy." He curls up closer to her arm. "Dad told me about it a while ago."

Of course Dad told him. Dad is smart and was taught these things as a child. Mom was not.

"Mitosis," Zach begins, yawns widely, and then looks at the page through half-lidded eyes to finish. "Process of cell division by which two new nuclei are formed, each containing the original number of chromosomes." He finally sets the book down, rubs his eyes, and then rolls over onto his pillow. Mal reaches over to tuck him in. "Mom?" He calls, eyes closed as he mumbles against his pillow. "How does a cell get the same number of DNA when it becomes two new ones?"

Mal's mind blanks out and she stammers a little as she slides off his bed onto her knees. "I, uh, I think they double, baby. They double up and then divide."

Zach squeezes his pillow, opens his eyes, and looks up. "But... they're already doubled?" He ponders aloud. "They're in a twisty spiral."

That Mal remembers. Her teacher had a giant stretchable model that Evie and Doug once rented out and examined in their dorm room. "Maybe they double the twisted DNA?" She suggests, relaxing a little as she runs a hand up and down Zach's back.

Zach shrugs and buries his face into his pillow. "I'll ask dad tomorrow," He yawns. "Goodnight mom."

Mal sits down hard on her tailbone with every bone in her body vibrating. Her son's words go through her like a bullet. 'I'll ask Dad'. She slowly forces herself to get up and walk to the door. She pulls it shut before she collapses beside the frame and presses her fingertips to her head.

Why is he asking questions like this already? Why doesn't she know the answers? Has he already caught on to the fact she's not nearly as smart as he and Ben are? How much longer does she have before he realizes she's a complete idiot who has no chance of ever learning half of the things he practically downloads into his brain?

Ben finds her there, on the floor outside her son's room mumbling 'questions' and 'cells' underneath her breath. And at three a.m the following morning, when he's awakened by the light of her phone as she reads a seventh-grade lesson on cells and biology, he doesn't say a word.

________________________________________________________________

"You know, just because you don't know about lightning and thunder doesn't mean you're not smart," Ben sighs from the doorway as Mal clicks through the twenty tabs she has open on her computer. "You just know other things. Who cares if Zach knows what the plant is called - you know whether or not it's edible."

"Great," Mal snaps irritably. "You and he can talk about electricity and... reactions in the atmosphere and I'll tell him where best to stab a man so he dies." She snaps the lid of her laptop shut with her eyes closed and lets out a ragged, ashamed breath. "I can't tell him things like that," she moans. "He already knows you're smarter than I am and I'm scarier than you. If I tell him things like that, he'll think I'm a monster."

"He's not going to think you're a monster," Ben sighs, pinching his fingertips to the bridge of his nose. He already knows he doesn't have much chance of convincing her, though. They've been having this discussion for almost two years now.

"Why is he growing up?" Mal groans, burying her face in her hands. "I can't deal with him getting bigger and all these things... Tyler still can't read by himself and he's almost four now!"

"Zach's a special case," Ben sighs. He's not sure how to console her - is there any consolation for a mom who feels like her baby is growing up too fast? And all she says is true - Zach amazes everyone who meets him. He's somewhere in between a third and a fifth-grade level as far as his knowledge goes, but his rationing is beyond even some adults Ben knows in the courts. Most of what he knows is from reading or Ben and Mal talking with him. They called in a tutor a while ago, and Zach was nice enough to her, but he simply learned too fast for her to be able to develop lessons for him. The local school kind of shook their heads and said that it would be a waste of his potential to have him sit in with even the sixth graders, who need things to be taught more than once whereas he remembers everything, and the only premiere school for kids his age is five hours away, so the only schooling he's done has been online and at-home activities. Now that Tyler is almost to kindergarten age and he's being grouped in with the rest of his age group, he and Mal are starting to understand exactly where a child of Zach's age should be. And it's not sitting upside down in the armchair in the library reading Einstein's theory of special relativity for fun. (He couldn't understand it, but he keeps track of words and phrases and that's how he figures things out)

"Is this good for him?" Mal sighs, tugging on her hair a little. "He's not around any other kids except for his brother and his cousins. and he's moving so fast... what happens when he levels out?"

Ben shrugs. It's going to be a long time before Zach levels out. And he's not too concerned with Zach's friends. Sure, the crown prince doesn't get out much, but he's kind and amicable and gets along well with everyone. He's not a very temperamental child, even when pestered by Zach or Jay's kids.

"We need something he can focus on learning that he won't master the moment it's out of someone's mouth," Mal sighs. "Preferably something with other children." She glances over at Ben with a soft, pleading sigh. "For my sanity and his sake."

"I don't think there's a problem," Ben sighs, sitting down beside her. "But it might be good for him to know what it's like to not learn something right off the bat."

"I was thinking of putting Tyler in dance," Mal sighs. "The other moms at the school have some of his friends in a class together. It's like a tumbling, gymnastics program. After school... let out some of his energy."

"Well, it's not like he can go battle pirates for fun like you used to," Ben snorts, nudging her side even as Mal frowns. "That sounds good. Are you going to put Zach in one?"

"Well, then I'd have to drive out there and back and then there again to drop him off and pick him up. Tyler can walk with his friends. One of the moms works in the building," Mal sighs, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "It would be better to have something I can take him to when I drop Tyler off at school."

Ben puts his hands on her shoulders and rubs his fingertips into her shoulders. "Maybe... music?" He suggests, and then a new plane of understanding opens to his eyes. "Actually... that's a great idea. Learning an instrument helps make connections in kid's brains. He'll have to practice to get good at it and train the muscles in his fingers to-"

"Oh my gosh, you're just like him!" Mal groans. "Why did I marry someone smart? This was a horrible idea!"

Ben laughs. He can't help it. He kisses her cheek and mumbles an apology against her skin. "I'll talk to him and ask what sounds cool," He tells her. "And then I'll get back to you, okay?"

________________________________________________________________

Thus, Zach begins taking guitar at age five. They pick a studio two buildings away from the public library, so for an hour and fifteen minutes Zach does guitar, then he goes to the library for weekly crafts lessons that other homeschooled kids participate in, and then waits the last hour or so before Mal or Ben picks Tyler up from school. He doesn't mind the wait since he gets to read, but he does mind the lessons themselves. Guitar, it turns out, is hard for him. He gets annoyed, but never angry. Sometimes he asks Mal if he can not go, but he doesn't argue when she disagrees. Once he kicks the empty guitar case, but their oldest child isn't very explosive or hot-headed. Ben's proud of him. After all, it isn't easy to struggle with something, and after learning everything else so easily, it's hard to have to practice something as simple as plucking strings in the right order.

For the first time, he progresses at the same rate as the other kids taking it with him, and Ben sees all of Mal's nerves relax one by one. It's still hard for her to see him move so fast in other subjects, but so long as she can listen to him complain about disliking guitar and how much the strings hurt his fingers, she's convinced that he'll still come to her for advice and comfort and she can keep trying to be a good mom.

For several months, Ben listens to his eldest mutter in the family room as he plucks and presses and then strums on his instrument. Sometimes he has to close his eyes when an out-of-tone note vibrates in his ear or when he hears Zach growl in the little way that reminds Ben a.) his son is struggling and b.) the Beast curse definitely still lives on in their family. Then, one day, he walks through the room and listens to Zach play 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star' without any pauses and on all the right keys. And then Zach sets down the guitar with a proud smile and looks up for approval. And at the moment, man, wow. He's been proud of Mal before, but never like this.

#descendants #disney descendants #ben x mal #mal descendants #ben descendants #bal #fanfic #parenthumor #parenthood #humor

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adnauseums · 6 years ago

Text

Soldier On - Prologue

Title: Soldier On - Prologue

Word Count: 1906 words (oops)

Description: The first eight years of Elizabeth Carter’s life are filled with happy memories but despite the joy felt, Lizzie can’t help but regret the words she never got to say to her mother and the dread she feels directed towards her impending, world-shattering, life change.

Pairings: Avengers x Barnes!OFC, Bucky Barnes x daughter!OFC

Warnings: Mentions of violence, childbirth, unplanned pregnancy, labor complications, character deaths, Infinity War spoilers, Endgame spoilers, explicit language, and violence.

A/N: Hello all, Bella, here! This has been brewing in my head for a long, long time and I’m finally putting pen to paper and writing this shit! Let me know if you’d like to be on the tag list for this through an ask and I will certainly add you!! OH AND BY THE WAY: STEVE AND SHARON WERE NEVER A THING IN THIS. The series was inspired by the song Soldier On by The Temper Trap, however, the chapter was inspired by the song Words by Skylar Grey. Jenna Coleman is my play-by for Maggie Carter, and Elizabeth’s play-by is Summer Fontana as a child (from 4-11) and Danielle Rose Russell as a teenager (12 and on) And lastly, translations!

ангел = angel

моя сладкая детка = my sweet baby

Tag List: @papi-chulo-bucky @viktordrago And open for more!

2009

“There we go, easy does it, darling!” Peggy encouraged, laughing as the contraction, the final contraction, ended. Eighty-eight years old to the day, and she was still alive and kicking, and she’d be damned if she’d miss this event of all the days and weeks. The birth of her great-grandchild. With one last, drawn-out scream, Maggie collapsed onto the bed behind her, chest heaving as Peggy’s face changed from that of happiness to one of concern. Sharon gently wiped her cousin’s face with a cool cloth, and Maggie tried to sit up.

Maggie Carter was in unbearable pain. From her first heartbreak to her horrendous torture in the hands of HYDRA, the crippling anxiety and fear possessing her at that very moment. The baby wasn’t crying. “W-What is it? W-Why isn’t she crying?” Maggie asked. Sharon gently forced her to lay back down and looked to her great-uncle. He looked just as concerned at the unresponsiveness of the newborn as everyone else was, and he shut off the video camera, placing it on the bedside table and hurrying to his wife’s aid. “Why isn’t she crying?” Maggie repeated, more firmly this time.

Peggy made quick work of the situation, opening the small infant’s mouth and clearing the airway, putting her mouth to the baby girl’s, gently blowing five quick breaths into her, and by doing so, into her lungs. She repeated it, before calling for the midwife on hand, who was about to take the baby when, like a miracle, a wet, pitchy wail sprung forth from the newborn’s lips.

A wave of relief passed over the room, and Peggy begrudgingly handed the newborn to the midwife looked back up to her granddaughter, who was struggling to sit up, “W-Where are you taking her?”

Maggie’s grandfather held her shoulders gently, but firmly, ensuring that she couldn’t go anywhere. “She needs to be taken to the NICU, sweetheart,” Peggy said softly.

Maggie dissolved into tears, gripping the arms of her grandpa, shaking her head, “I-Is she going to be okay? I-I-I- n-need to h-hold her,” She sobbed.

Steve smoothed back his granddaughter’s brown locks, plastered to her forehead with beads of sweat. He took the wet cloth from Sharon and wiped her forehead, “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, Maggie,” He said softly, kissing the top of her head, “She’s gonna be just fine. It’s in her blood. She’s a fighter, just like her mom.”

- 2010

This first year seemed to be a rollercoaster of firsts, and of course, it was, it wasn’t as though Maggie was impervious to the constraints of time, but she didn’t like how quickly Lizzie was growing. Maggie loved having a baby, but with Lizzie’s health problems the first few months were trying and terrifying, but, like Pops said, Lizzie was just fine. And, like always, he was right. After all, he was and his health conditions growing up were tenfold the severity of Lizzie’s.

Balancing a one-year-old and a stack of unopened plastic plates, Maggie made her way to the dinging doorbell with an exasperated sigh, “Just a minute!” She called, walking in from the kitchen and into the living room, making her way over to the front door. With one elbow and her rambunctious infant tugging on her hair, Maggie somehow managed to open the door. She grinned, dark circles under her eyes in preparation for today’s festivities. “Oh, Margaret, I swear,” Peggy exclaimed, shaking her head. She moved to take Elizabeth from Maggie, which Maggie allowed with a groan. Steve followed his wife, giving his granddaughter an apologetic look.

“Nan, I’m an adult, a mother even, I can manage myself quite we-” Peggy interrupted her.

“-You look exhausted, Maggie,” She stated. “I told you your granddad and I would help you set up. You’re working yourself into the ground.” Elizabeth squealed, clapping her hands, and Peggy laughed, kissing the infant’s forehead, “Yes, she is,” Peggy cooed, kissing Lizzie’s cheek three times before looking back at Maggie. “I just wish you’d let others help you, dear, that’s all.”

Steve chucked, “In all fairness, doll, you weren’t much different than Mags at your age.”

Maggie gave her grandmother a look, “Ha! See? It’s not my fault, it’s genetic,” She said with a triumphant smirk. “You have the video camera, Granddad?” Maggie asked him as he moved to take Liz from Peggy.

Elizabeth squealed once more, gently hitting Steve’s chest in the only way a baby could get away with, and Steve laughed, patting the infant’s back with one hand as he dug the camera out of his jacket pocket, “Always.” He stated.

“Maggie,” Peggy started, smiling brightly at Elizabeth, “Did I ever thank you for giving me the best birthday gift in the world?”

- 2011

“No, no, no! Elizabeth Margaret Carter, stop that this instant!” Maggie exclaimed firmly. The toddler paused momentarily to spare her mother a glance as Maggie stood from her place on the couch and made her way to the kitchen to stop her. Arms outstretched with her bowl of spaghettios, Elizabeth looked from her mother to the bowl in front of her, giggling as she threw it onto the ground with all her might.

“Elizabeth!”

- 2012

“Mommy?” The auburn-haired girl squeaked from the doorway.

Maggie sat up in her bed, lightning cracking from outside. It illuminated the dark room, revealing Elizabeth’s tear-stained face, “Oh, Liz, come here, darling.” She said softly, prompting Elizabeth to toddle forward. Maggie reached down and picked her up, placing her next to her on the bed. “What’s wrong, my love?”

“Th-The wightning.” She muttered, burying her face in the crook of her mother’s neck.

“Oh, my sweet love, it’s alright,” Maggie soothed, rubbing Liz’s back as she rocked her back and forth. “You can sleep with me tonight,” She stated, pulling back the covers, “Go on then,” Maggie kissed Lizzie’s forehead, “Wriggle down in there. Nothing’s gonna hurt you while Mummy’s here.”

- 2013

Ordinary days were few and far between for the Carter girls. They’d go visit Maggie’s grandmother and Lizzie’s great-grandmother, Peggy, in her home, where her Alzheimers seemed to worsen with every week that passed, however, today hadn’t been one of those days. Nan had been fine and happy, visiting with her great-granddaughter, and now, tired out, Elizabeth was laid down for her routine nap, sucking her thumb as she clutched her blanket to her face. Maggie sighed and smiled contently, cracking the door to her daughter’s bedroom door before swiftly exiting. And that’s when the knock sounded at the door, sending a chill down Margaret’s spine.

She grabbed the pistol from her purse, a million thoughts surging through her head. They moved for this reason, every year without fail. So they couldn’t be followed or found by HYDRA. Maggie had narrowly escape the Winter Soldier’s fate herself, and from their dalliance and his aid in her escape, she’d begot Elizabeth. Her sweet, sweet Elizabeth. Maggie cracked the front door open slightly, peeking out and resting her eyes on a slim redhead, “May I help you?” Maggie asked sharply, gun at the ready behind the door. She looked familiar, and of course, she would as the redhead’s face frequented the news, but Maggie wasn’t taking any chances.

“Agent Margaret A. Carter? My name is Natasha Romanoff. Can I come in?”

- 2014

“Go on, ангел, it’s okay.” Natasha said with a sigh. Elizabeth rocked back and forth on her heels, clutching the straps of her little backpack as she looked up at her.

“But I’m scared, Aunt Tash. I don’t wanna.” She said softly. Natasha smiled softly, kneeling to Elizabeth’s height and encasing her in a hug.

“Listen, моя сладкая детка, I know you’re scared but you’ve gotta be a big girl for Aunt Tash, okay? I promised your mommy I’d get you safe and sound to school.” Natasha said softly.

“Mommy said that she was gonna be here,” Liz stated with a pout. Natasha smoothed her hair and kissed her forehead.

“I know, honey, but she’s gonna pick you up after school. This is exciting! It’s your first day, aren’t you excited too?” She asked brightly.

Elizabeth quickly shook her head, “Nuh-uh.”

Natasha sighed. She needed to pick Steve up, but with Maggie working the graveyard shift at the hospital she’d begged Nat to take Elizabeth to her first day of school. But she would be late picking Steve up, and he definitely didn’t need to know about Elizabeth or Maggie. “Okay, listen to me, squirt,” She looked around before whispering into Elizabeth’s ear. “Ten bucks if you’ll go inside.”

Elizabeth shook her head, crossing her arms, “Twenty. And ice cream after.”

Natasha kissed her head, standing back up, “You’ve got a deal, little miss.”

- Now

When did Maggie ever get her way? When she thought that 2017 was supposed to be a great year. Maggie couldn’t believe that Elizabeth was starting the third grade, and she was so excited about it, too. It broke Maggie’s heart that Elizabeth wanted her Aunt Tash to be there with her, but Maggie had to explain that it just wasn’t possible, not because of… well grown-up stuff (which is how Maggie explained it). Maggie refused to tell her anything other than the truth: that Natasha wouldn’t be coming back for a while.

They had a new apartment, a large apartment with three bedrooms and two and a half bathrooms in upstate New York, thanks to Nat’s friend Tony. He didn’t seem all too keen when he came to check on Maggie and Elizabeth, and Maggie didn’t know why that was and she certainly wasn’t about to ask, not even Granddad. She hadn’t spoken to Granddad in forever, not since Nan had passed per his requests. She sent him updates on herself and Lizzie on the regular, but something about the timeline was too delicate as it was. He needed to stay away, no matter how much he wanted to be there, and Margaret would adhere to his wishes and keep her mouth shut. After all, there was a reason she was Margaret Antonia Carter and not Rogers.

This was supposed to be the perfect year, but here she was, held at gunpoint by some agent as they waited for Elizabeth to get off the bus and trudge up to their apartment, happy as a clam. The lock jingled as Elizabeth undoubtedly unlocked the door. “Don’t make a sound or I’ll blow your brains out.” The agent hissed into Maggie’s ear. She knew her fate in that moment.

The door opened.

Elizabeth screamed, “Mommy!” and ran forward. The scream and movement of the young girl threw the agent off and he faltered in her grip. Maggie used this lack in the grip to kick the man in the gut, throwing the gun to the ground.

“Elizabeth, no! I need you to run!” She yelled, the man beginning to fight back. She managed to yell out, “FRIDAY, activate Emergency Protcal: H Y Delta R Alpha!”

“Shut up!” The agent yelled.

Elizabeth had started to cry, refusing to leave, “Mommy, what about yo-”

“Elizabeth, run! Don’t stop, no matter what you hear! Just run!” Elizabeth remained still.

“Mommy…”

“Run!” Maggie screamed at her. And she did. Elizabeth, sobbing, ran out of the front door and down the hallway, down the flights of steps of their apartment building and she didn’t stop.

Not even when three gunshots echoed throughout the building.

#soldier on series #bucky barnes x daughter!reader #bucky barnes x ofc #avengers x barnes!ofc #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #avengers angst #avengers fluff #marvel angst #marvel fluff #marvel series #infinity war spoilers #endgame spoilers #avengers series #bucky barnes series

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