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lightwing-s · 6 months

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𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐯𝐢 ; 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: It was a normal night, till he had to look for you. And then, the storm began.

rating: 18+ (MDNI)

word count: 8k warnings: pregnancy, talks of abusive parents, mentions of abortion.

a/n: as Jesus is reborn, so am I! Happy Easter to everybody that waited so long for this chapter to come out. I'm sorry it took me so long, but I got so busy this past month that if I hear anyone say 'illicit trade' or 'online trafficking' I might kill somebody lol. I hope this chapter compensates for the time, though. It is mostly Jason's pov, with references to the reader as she/her rather than you because I thought it might sound better. Idk, lmk if it's weird lol.

a/n 2: also, I can't begin to thank everyone for the incredible support in this series. I've got so many messages that had me on the verge of tears with happiness and how sweet they were. I trully hope I'm capable of continuing to bring you guys joy through this series and other stories. I love you all, and thank you so much for allowing me to finally let my ideas become words, and my words to have meaning

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist

A cold shiver ran up Jason’s spine. The soft breeze coming off the opened fridge climbed up his shirtless torso, drying the sweat on his skin and leaving it cold and sticky. The nearly freezing water slid down his throat, giving him the refreshment he craved for after a long session of training, and an even longer day of work.

It was finally over. His session, his day, his week. Saturday couldn't have come sooner. Sighing in relief, he refilled the water bottle, shoved it back into it’s previous place and turned on his heel heading for a much needed shower. He was tired. Drained. And all he wanted to do was drop down in his bed and sleep for a whole entire night.

Picking out his phone from his joggers’ pocket, he took one last peek at the screen. Almost 10:00pm, and a weather report of an incoming rainstorm soon. Perfect, he thought. He loved to sleep to the sound of rain. So, he locked his phone, threw it on the sofa, and rushed to the bathroom, hoping to get a shower before it got too cold, leaving fast enough to get to bed before the raindrops started to fall.

He stripped down his pants in front of his mirror, a quick stop to admire his progress. Chest, arms, and back. All proof of his hardwork and commitment. And yet, a reddish mark by his neck was what really caught his attention. Roy had poked fun at it earlier, but his joke couldn’t be farther from the truth. A bug bite, as simple as that. An allergic reaction to a stupid bug. But that stupid reaction, that stupid mark, brought him back to the last time something like that was left on his skin.

Yn had left with countless marks after that brief session in a stranger’s office. Enough to last him a while. But not more than the first time he had you, right under the same roof he was at now. Marks on his neck, on his chest, arms, and back. If he thought too long of it, he could feel her lips warming his skin, making his mind go crazy, and his blood to boil.

Shaking his head, he tried to keep those thoughts away. It wasn’t time. It wasn’t appropriate. Yn was now the mother of his child. Nothing more than that. He couldn’t keep the thought lingering. So, sliding the glass door open, he entered the shower, hoping to wash away all the thoughts off his mind.

As the cold water hit his shoulders, relief spread to his entire body, even if the chilling weather of the start of fall was not the most adequate for such water temperature. Sinking his head under the cascade, he closed his eyes, mind emptying, and peace reaching him after a long and rough week.

It was silent in his head. But it wasn’t enough.

He couldn’t wash his mind off of Yn. It was first the night he had you over, and under him, moaning his name repeatedly in his ear. He remembered how soft her skin felt, how light was her touch, and yet he couldn’t forget the burning pain her nails had left on his back.

He drowned in the memory of her intoxicating smell, and how the skin under her ear tasted sweet. For a moment, even through the freezing water, he swore he could feel her blood catching fire running through her body, warming him along the way through their skins, glued to one another, tangled in each other, in a night he would never forget.

And then came the memories of the second time. How annoyed she was, and how easily she gave in to him. It was like her body responded to his, knowing it was only him that could give him the pleasure she craved. He missed the feral, animalistic, feelings of that afternoon, and how she fit perfectly around him.

Stop, he thought to himself, opening his eyes to the bright room. This isn’t okay. But again, it was already too late. His throbbing cock rested against his lower abdomen, hard and leaking. He smelled his arousal mixed between the smell of his soap, and his hand reached for his tip, light touches already driving him insane. Resting his hand on the cold porcelain tile, he allowed his eyes to close again.

And then, he remembered the picture. Sent to him just a few hours earlier. It wasn't dirty. On the contrary, it was as innocent as one could be. It was her, playing along with a baby toy, those usually overpriced, but that could distract even a grown adult. And thus she was, distractedly playing with the toy as a picture was snapped without her acknowledgment, and probably sent to him without her knowing either. Her barely visible smile caught his eyes immediately.

For the almost six months he had known her, it wasn’t a sight he got to see often, but that had been gracing his presence much more frequently now. It was beautiful. To him, it was art. Pure and soft. Bright and warm. He could watch it all day. He remembered the first time she smiled at him, in his kitchen, over snacks and laughter. Just before he had her pinned under him in the most intense lovemaking session he’d ever had.

He cursed himself. How could he turn an innocent picture into fire for his wet dreams? But how could he stop thinking of the soft skin of her neck, almost the focus of that picture, when it was exposed right there just for him to see? How could he stop his mind from wandering when it had been so long he had been with anyone? When he had been with her.

Only a few touches brought him his high, spilling all over his wall like a firetruck. Gosh, he hasn’t fucked anyone in so long it was almost pittyful. Feeling himself grow soft, he sunk himself in the water again, washing his face ferociously to wash the shame away. He wasn’t religious, but he prayed he could keep you out of his mind. He couldn’t keep doing it. Things had changed. It wasn’t appropriate. Fuck.

He walked to his bedroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist. Straight to his closet where, after a few minutes of searching, he found the new pair of sweatpants he had gotten. Gray like all others he owned. Putting it on, he returned to the kitchen, threw himself on the sofa, and prayed, while watching the darkened ceiling, that he could keep her out of his mind.

Soon closing his eyes, the darkness and the tiredness sank him into sleep. Letting go of lights and noises coming from the outside, he allowed the quietness to embrace him. However, his peace didn’t last long.

Underneath him, he felt the incessant vibrations of his phone, even if he couldn’t seem to find the device anywhere. It was just as the phone had stopped that he found it hidden between the pillows, and he unlocked the screen to a scary surprise.

Yn 6 Missed Calls

“What the fuck!” he screamed out loud, worry slowly creeping up his chest, weighing it down and making it hard to breathe.

She didn’t call him. Never. Not one single time. He was the one to always call and message to check if she was okay, or to start any conversation. Something must have happened, and going by the sheer number of times she had tried to contact him, it wasn’t good. Quickly unlocking his phone, he typed on the notification, calling Yn back straight away. She didn’t take long to pick up.

“Yn, what happened?” he questioned as soon as she picked up.

“Oh, thank god!” He heard from the other line, but the voice wasn’t hers. “Jason, It’s Vanessa here. Nessie. Yn’s friend.”

“H-hi, Vanessa,” he greeted through his wavering voice. “What happened? Where’s Yn?” he inquired. He wasn’t only met with silence from the other line, although Vanessa’s tense breathing indicated she was still on the call. With a demanding voice, he asked one more time, “Vanessa?”

“Jason…” She took a deep breath. “Yn is gone.”

It felt as if a heavy weight pulled his heart down, as it dropped lower than it ever had. Yet, his mind was empty, none of Vanessa’s words making sense to him. Yn was gone. Gone where? Why? Where was gone? He had so many questions, yet only once made it out of his lips.

“What?!” his voice faltered.

“She’s gone. I don’t know where to.” Vanessa’s voice too was shaky, and seemed to be holding back tears from falling down. “I heard everything through the walls but I was too afraid to go out and find him, because he scares the shit out of me. He’s really huge, you know, he could easily knock me down if I tried to help her,” Vanessa was rambling, and he could hear her incessant steps, as if she couldn’t keep herself still. “And they were fast too, by the time I got the courage to come out they were already gone, and…”

“Vanessa, calm down,” he requested, already fishing for a t-shirt and shoes from his bedroom. Whatever it was she was trying to tell him, it was worrying. Had someone taken her? Why?

“ ’m sorry. I-I just… I got her phone by accident. She accidentally left me with it when she handed me her shopping bags. So I’ve tried calling you ever since.”

“Are you at home?” he asked and got a hum in responde. “I’m coming over, okay? I’ll be there in a second. But who took her, Nessie, please. Who was it?”

“No one took her,” she started to explain, pausing for what sounded to be a glass of water. Jason too prepared a glass before he left. “Her dad kicked her out. He found out she was pregnant.”

“He did what?!” he nearly screamed on the line, blood beginning to boil. He hadn’t heard much about her parents, but taking by how shaken about the pregnancy at first, he had no doubts they were partially responsible for her nervousness.

“He found out she was pregnant and kicked her out of her apartment,” she repeated. “Well, technically it’s his apartment, he pays for ever- But it doesn’t matter now. She’s gone and we have to find her! She was crying, a lot, and she left with only a backpack and a small suitcase. She can’t have taken much…”

“And it’s going to rain,” Jason added, already sitting in his car after flying down his building’s stairs. It wasn’t just rain, but a storm. She can’t be out in a weather like that, I have to find her. “Wait for me downstairs. I’ll be in front of your apartment in just a minute. I promise we’ll find her.”

“Vanessa!” he screamed at the girl standing on the sidewalk, looking left and right before turning to face the voice that had just called her. Jason had parked by the entrance of the building, fancy enough to have its own doorman and a beautifully decorated lobby behind its glass front doors. “How are you? Have you got any news?”

“I’m fine. At least trying to. And no news of her yet. I tried looking up and down the street, but she’s not around here anymore.” She looked at him apologetic, eyes now evidently holding back a pool of tears.

“She can’t have gone far. She was walking, right?” he asked, looking around at the still fast moving traffic on that grim Saturday night. The sky was starless, and heavy clouds filled it instead.

“I’m so sorry, Jason,” Vanessa apologized, making him turn. Her chin trembled as her tears fell from her brown eyes. “I heard it all and couldn’t do anything. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Hey, Nessie,” he tried to soothe her, calling her by the familiar nickname he so often heard coming off Yn’s lips, and wrapping her in a friendly hug. “It’s not your fault. There wasn’t much you could do. But, please, tell me everything that happened. I’m still trying to understand it.”

Breaking off from his hug, Nessie ran her hands up and down her arms in search of warmth before looking up to meet Jason’s eyes. “Her dad is an asshole.” Oh really?, he thought. “We were coming back from the mall, you know. I sent you the picture while we were there.” He nodded. “When we arrived back her door was open, and it usually means that her parents are around. So she shoved me all of her bags before her mother could snoop in and claimed they were for my cousin’s baby shower. Before I knew it, there was screaming outside and when I went to look, her mother was weirdly pacing around and Yn and her dad were nowhere to be found.

“I thought of running down the stairs, but the elevator was already on the ground floor and I knew I couldn’t make it on time. So I just looked down the window and saw him pushing her into the streets. Her bags as well. I couldn’t understand what he said, but he was still screaming at her. Jason,” she called him, but his attention hadn’t gone anywhere. “She looked so scared, even from that far. I could see her crying, on the floor, and walking down the street. I heard movement, so I hid back in my apartment. I even heard a knock on my door, but I was too scared to open and just started calling you.”

Jason’s rage slowly grew as Vanessa continued her story. How could anyone treat family like that? He couldn’t picture treating his mother, father, or any of his siblings like that. And he specially could never imagine doing something similar to his own daughter. Whoever that man was, he wasn’t a father. He was a fucking monster he wanted to beat up so bad…

“Since she moved here for college he keeps trying to take her back to their hometown, because he says Gotham is a corrupt city and that it will “corrupt” his “baby” daughter,” Vanessa continued her story. “From what she told me, they frequent this church, and he’s seen as this “model citizen”. A joke, let me tell you. He was always controlling of her and her sisters, and they couldn’t ever walk out of line or it would ruin it for him, whatever he meant.

“I’m not sure if it’s up to me to tell you this, but it's not the first time he kicked a daughter out of home. He found out her sister kissed another girl at a party and threw her out. I guess having an unmarried pregnant daughter does the same to him and he kicked Yn too.

“I swear,” Jason ran a hand on his face. “I can kill this man.”

“Get in line. Although I do think you have more chances than me,” she tried to joke and Jason let out a dry laugh. He really could kill that man. With every single word from Vanessa, he only got worse.

A few drops of water hit his head, announcing the rain he eagerly waited for earlier was about to start. “We have to go before the rain gets heavier. She can’t be on the streets in a fucking storm.”

“I called a friend to help us look for her. He’s just by the corner. We can split up and find her quicker,” Nessie informed, waving her hand at a car that parked just before the two of them. She fixed her belt in the passenger seat while Jason rested his forearms on the window.

“You go down the street and look for her south. I’ll go north and look for her there. Nessie, please call me if you…” he instructed the guy when exalted voices caught his attention. Coming out of the glass doors of the modern apartment complex, a large man and his wife walked out of the building in a loud exchange, aiming for the taxi that had parked just behind Nessie’s friend black SUV. “Is that him?”

The sudden change in his tone frightened Vanessa, and she stood quiet for a while until she responded with quite uncertainty, “Y-yeah.”

In that moment, Jason’s knuckles turned white from how hard he gripped on the car’s window, and his face turned a bright shade of red. Letting go of the car, Vanessa’s scream wasn’t enough to stop him from stomping in the pair’s direction, not even her repeated attempts to hold at his wrist. He shook her hold easily, legs moving fast as he eyes were set on the man responsible for all of this.

Jason exhaled a trembling breath through his nose, and he could hear his own heart thumping in his chest. His arms hung as hard as stone to his sides, and his nails dug deep into the skin of his palms. There were a few blurry sports in his sight, and his eyes burned with anger. He was seeing red, both figuratively and literally, as the neon lights of a store close by shone brightly in shades of scarlet, painting the man’s frame in its bright colors.

The large frame of the man was closer. The bald spot in his head, now much more visible. He didn’t know the man’s name, nor how looked. They never shared a word, or even a glimpse at each other. But Jason knew, oh he knew, that he would never, ever again, let him step a foot close to his girl. He would never treat you like he did, and he would pay for it even if it came little by little.

That man would never get close to his child and its mother, and he would make sure he remembered his name. Or the feel of his punch.

“Hey!” Jason called him with a loud growl. The old man turned in his direction immediately, unaware of the fist flying into his face.

The man all but fell to the ground with a loud thud, as his wife screamed in despair. His rage not vanishing after he knocked the man down, Jason climbed on top of him, throwing punches left and right to the man’s face and stomach, until he felt his hands aching and he was pulled away from him by two pairs of strong arms.

“Stop! Jason, let go!” Vanessa screamed as he squirmed in the two men’s arms, wanting to go back to the man who failed to sit up while his wife cleared his bloody lips.

“Get over it, mate. Let’s find her,” said Vanessa’s friend, and just then he let it go.

His hand shook as he held the steering wheel. Knuckles bloodied and in throbbing pain. He still drowned in adrenaline from the well beat up he gave Yn’s excuse of a father. Vanessa’s friend, Dale, had followed him to the car to make sure he was alright to drive, but Jason assured him he was fine. The man got what he deserved, and Jason was glad he was the one to deliver it.

Alone in his car, however, he could finally allow his emotions to come out. As he drove up the opposite direction of Dale’s car, a loud scream left his lungs. Pure rage evaded his body, as his eyes burned with tears he hardly fought against.

Why is it that when it comes to us it is always so messy? Why can’t we catch a break?, he thought. From day one, everything with you was confusing, borderline stressful most of the time. He wanted better, quieter and more peaceful days. If he was having a hard time with all that is happening, he couldn't fathom how she’d be doing right now. And the baby. It certainly wasn’t healthy for the baby.

The lights became blurry as he tried to wipe the tears away, and he had to slow down his car to not cause any unwanted accidents. With the lower speed, he could more carefully watch the sidewalks, the remaining open stores, and street corners, all looking for any sign of her. At a traffic light, red made him stop, and his eyes roamed his surroundings.

However, the blinking lights of a ‘C’ were what trapped his attention. It was a clinic. An abortion clinic. He had to swallow dry as he tried to watch its inside through the glass door. The mere idea of Yn going by it making his heart drop. If that idea ever crossed her mind, he didn’t know, but he prayed it never did. He grew attached to it too quickly. To the baby, and to her. He’d been planning, purchasing, painting and drawing a future in his head, where the two of them would be a part of. He wasn’t sure he could let it go.

When the lights turned green, his foot pressed hard on the throttle, speeding out of there before he got even more nauseous. One street turned into another, and another, and another. Still not a sign that you were around. He was growing more and more desperate as the rain got heavier and heavier. If his hands weren’t hard glued to the steering wheel, they’d be trembling tremendously. It had been long since he’d felt like this. Alone, lost and desperate. A sense there wasn’t much else he could do, and that all he did didn’t seem to work. And as every single second passed without you there by his side, his anxiety multiplied by millions.

The rain now poured, as if the sky was about to fall down. People rushed around, their umbrellas doing nothing to shield them from the water, and coats and jackets getting drenched as they looked for shelter. He was driving desperately, looking for anything, any sign, any indication that you were safe. He checked his phone for messages from Vanessa, or a call from his brothers he had begged for help.

Dick had called his colleagues, giving them Yn’s description, asking them to keep an eye out. Tim and Stephanie were looking for you in every camera they would hack in the city, and Damian was probably begging rats and insects to lead him Yn’s way.

A lighting strike hit the ground and illuminated the sky. And then he saw it.

Hidden in the darkened entrance of a now closed store, sat on the floor, curled down in a corner, was a girl. A bright orange suitcase laying beside her, a blue backpack resting on her side, as she had her face shoved between her knees. Shaking, from cold and tears. A girl that couldn’t be anyone but you.

He stopped the car without thinking. Without caring if there was anyone behind him on the road. He just wanted to get to you. Stepping out, he felt the rain soak his head and his shirt, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was that he’d found you. Shouting into Gotham’s dark and gloomy night, he called her name and rushed to your side.

Her head bobbed up as quickly as he ran, and it searched around for the voice was coming from. When she realized it was him, she pulled herself up from the floor swiftly and into Jason’s arms, tangling her own around his waist and letting her face fall into his chest. Her tears soaked his shirt quicker than rain had done, and she shook in his hold and her loud sobs filled Jason’s ears.

His heart broke in one million pieces. The sight of her crying once again, too much for him to handle. He couldn’t even care for the harsh way in which she had slammed against his body, he was just glad you were there. Safe and in his arms. Thus, he held closer and tight, one hand caressing her nape and he left soft kisses at her temples.

“Hey, hey,” he cooed. “I’m here, okay? I’m here. You don’t need to cry anymore.”

Vanessa and Dale didn’t take long to arrive, but Yn didn’t stop crying even after they arrived there. The two girls, tangled in a tight embrace, cried on each other’s shoulders and the rain dropped as heavy as their tears did. Jason, on the other hand, tried to dry his eyes without anyone noticing, wiping the sleeve of his shirt on his face and turning away.

“You gave that man a good punch out there,” Dale’s raspy voice began by his side, bringing his attention away from the walls. “I would’ve done just about the same if it was my girl who was kicked out like that. Your girl should be happy she has you.” He tapped Jason’s shoulder, that way boys always do, and Jason let out a chuckle.

His girl. Yn was as much his girl as he owned the moon, and yet, he couldn’t make himself correct him.

“I just hope she will be fine.”

“I’ve heard she’s a strong one,” she chimed.

“Yeah!” he agreed with a smile. “My girl really is.”

Watching the two girls, he noticed Vanessa wipe Yn’s tears away, pushing her away then bringing her back into another hug that made Yn give out a teary laugh. She seemed to have calmed down, as no more tears ran down frenetically down her cheeks and her breathing seemed to have eased. Jason, then, decided to walk closer, with the other man trailing just behind. Yn soon took notice, as she gave him a smile as he approached.

“Are you gonna be fine?” Vanessa asked, rubbing a hand over her arm.

“I don’t know,” Yn answered. Her voice was weak, hoarse and fragile. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”

Jason noticed her chin restart to tremble, and he was about to hug her again if Vanessa wasn’t closer and quicker. Over her friend’s shoulder, Yn’s teary eyes caught his, staring at him sadly. Pulling away from the hug, Vanessa made an offer.

“I can make some space in my apartment for you. It isn’t big but I guess I make it fit, right?”

Giving her friend a soft smile, Yn appeared to agree.

“No!” Jason protested, louder than he had hoped. “I have a spare room. I was planning on fixing it for our baby, but you can stay there. It’s yours. Besides, it would be more practical,” he explained. “I can easily take you to appointments, or even for work. I wouldn’t mind. And when the baby arrives, I can help you with taking care of it.”

He eyed Yn hopefully. “C’mon. I’m the baby’s dad. I wouldn’t be right if I didn’t help you out.”

“I just don’t wanna be a bother,” Yn said.

“Yn, you could never bother me,” he stated.

Staring at her, Jason waited expectantly. He knew she was weighing every option and considering every mild detail. But he just wanted her to say yes. He wanted to have her near. It wasn’t just convenient, it was necessary. To him it was. To have her close meant to always know if her and the baby were alright, safe and taken care of. He wouldn’t worry if she had arrived home, or if she had gotten sick at work. He would know. Because he would be there.

Yn took her time thinking, while Jason agonized in his spot. He had built too much hope in such a short amount of time, he was scared of how he would be if she didn’t accept his proposal. After all, he was just the stranger she was having a baby with, not her best friend. But a response came out, eventually. Nodding shortly, Yn offered him a smile and a watery stare. A stare that said everything she didn’t need to voice, but that he caught anyway. Thank you.

“I’ll miss my neighbor,” Vanessa cried out, and hugged Yn tightly by her side.

“I’ll miss you too, nugget,” Yn returned. “But I’m sure Jason won’t forbid you from visiting me.”

“Would I even have the chance to?” Jason asked playfully.

“No!” they replied in unison, bringing out laughter out of the four of them. Even though the rain progressively got worse, finally, the mood had lightened.

Vanessa offered her jacket so Yn could get in the car without getting wet, and Jason was about to take her bags when Dale stopped him before he moved. “Take care of your girl, I’ll take the bags.”

Nodding in gratitude, Jason instead moved to your side. “Did you manage to get a lot? I mean, out of your apartment. Into your bags?”

Yn only shook her head.

“I can ask Mr. Emmons for the spare key and pick up some of your stuff,” Vanessa said, walking beside her. “He loved you, I’m sure he’d make that exception for you.”

“Are you sure?” Yn asked. “I really don’t wanna bother anyo…”

“Yn!” Jason and Vanessa scolded in unison.

“I’m sorry,” Yn let out a soft laugh. “If you want to, I won’t complain.”

It was past midnight when both Vanessa and Dale left Jason’s apartment. With them, four trash bags full of Yn’s stuff were brought in, and thus started Yn’s moving process. The girls worked on taking notes of everything that had come in the bags, and of everything there was missing. Vanessa was going to play dealer for a few days, and weirdly, she was very excited for it.

While they worked on the bags, Jason and Dale took a look at the spare bedroom. It was nearly empty, except from a few gym items and boxes laying around. With the other’s help, Jason cleared out the room, sweeping the floors and the spider webs off the walls. Also, he made a promise to find her a bed, somewhere. No one cared enough for dinner that night, and the pair left as nonchalantly as they had arrived.

“You can stay in my bedroom tonight. I’ll take the sofa,” Jason explained, once the two of them were alone. “At least until I can get you a bed.”

“It’s okay,” Yn reassured, and left him alone to take a shower.

While she readied to go to bed, Jason made sure he picked up everything he would need to sleep in the living room out of his bedroom. He didn’t want to bother her by coming in and out of it while she was there. He knew she was going to be uncomfortable enough for today, this new arrangement requiring time to get used to. So, he changed into comfortable clothes, prepped his makeshift bed with pillows and blankets, and waited for her to come out of her shower.

The faint water noises coming from the bathroom mixed with the storm sound coming from outside, creating a relaxing atmosphere he was grateful for after all the stress he’d gone through. He could only hope Yn felt as calm as he did now, that she wasn’t hiding any tears from him in her shower. But he knew it was asking for too much, she was not going to get over it this easily. She had cried a lot in the car ride to his apartment, and when he passed by the bathroom door he could hear her sniffles.

It killed him to see her like that. He’d do just about anything to make her stop hurting. Sat on the sofa, he thought about everything in his reach he could possibly attempt to do to ease her pain, but none of them were possible this late at night. However, as soon as the door opened and Yn came out, her hair wet and fresh smell spreading through the whole apartment, his thoughts emptied out to just her.

“I guess I’m going to bed now,” she shyly stated. Jason simply nodded, too stunned with how she looked in just a plain t-shirt and pajama shorts to form any coherent sentence. “Goodnight, Jay.”

“Good night, Ynie,” was all he said as he watched her close his bedroom door behind her.

“And Jay,” she suddenly reopened the door calling out for him. “Thank you for letting me stay here.”

Her soft smile was genuine, adorable, and made his stomach spin. In normal circumstances, he’d have told her she didn’t need to thank him for anything. Tonight, though, he didn’t want to argue.

“You’re welcome,” he offered her a gentle grin. But I’d make this your home even if you had yours.

Upon his return to solitude, he hoped the sounds of the night would lull him to sleep. He was tired, and on any other night he’d have dozed off easily. However, tonight wasn’t the case. Even if he closed his eyes, even if he was curled up comfortably, he couldn’t seem to fall asleep. He continuously rolled and rolled until he got tired of trying. So he fished for the remote in the total darkness of the room, and turned on the TV, the volume on the lowest, to see if anything in there could make him sleepy.

He had found a cartoon. One of those late night, highly inappropriate ones, and actually found it to be mildly entertaining. But the creaking sound of the door was more interesting. Lifting his head slowly to look over the back of the sofa, he found Yn peeking out of his bedroom.

“Can’t fall asleep?” he asked, and she just nodded. “Come here.”

Sitting up, he made some space for her to sit beside him, making sure he left her with the softest pillows. Adorably, she sat down and immediately pulled her legs up to her chest, hugging it protectively, and resting her chin on her own knees.

“What are you watching?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. However, his attention was now far gone from the TV. “I just put it on to distract me. See if I could fall asleep to it.”

Moments of silence followed. Yn’s focus on the cartoon, while Jason was fixed watching her. She looked so serene, it didn’t even look like she had just been kicked out by her own father. He wanted to ask her if she was alright, but he feared she would get mad with how much he had asked it since they’d arrived home. He also wanted to hug her, feel the comfort of her warmth and maybe fall asleep to it, but he knew it would be too much for one single day. So, he was content with the light brushes he’d get on her skin.

“Nessie told me what you did to my dad,” she said suddenly, and Jason got nervous about what she thought of it. It was still her dad, even with all the pain he had caused. He was afraid she’d be mad at him for it. So, he had to explain himself.

“He deserved it,” he quickly added. His throat was dry, but he still insisted. “He deserved it for what he did to you. I could not…”

“I get it,” she broke him off. “It just… feels weird. I’m glad you did, but also not.”

He understood.

“I was mad at him at some point, and thought of doing it myself. But he is my dad. I don’t think I could do it if it ever came to it. Even if I collected all the anger I harvested throughout my entire life, I couldn’t lift a finger against him.”

Her head moved, now facing him with her cheek laid on her legs. Her eyes were intense, but sad. Glowing, but it wasn’t happiness.

“I get it,” he told her. “I really do.” And he continued to look at her till it gave him courage to finally ask. “Was he this bad your whole life?”

She shook her head. “He had his good moments. Few, but they were there. We just had to be doing something he’d actually be happy about.”

“He’d always make us take the classes he wanted. Go to places where he liked to go, and where his ‘friend’ could see him, you know, boast about how great his family was. Even our friends he got to pick. They had to be from church, and from rich families. People we could fawn over, grow attached to like vines. I guess he thought if we were friends with them, he would become friends with the parents, and what better than rich friends for you to parasite, right?

“I don’t even know how he let me come to Gotham in the first place. He made my sister marry young so she wouldn’t go away for college, so I don’t know how he didn’t try that on me too. I mean, he did try, but none of the guys were actually interested in pursuing me for him to insist on it… What?” he questioned when she heard him scoff.

“Why wouldn’t they be interested in you?” he let out before he knew it. Yn shyly hid her face from him before continuing.

“I kinda looked mad all the time.”

“Oh, really,” Jason mused, earning a slap on his bicep.

“I was just… an angry teenager,” he gave her a look. “And young adult too, okay?” she let out a brief laugh. “I don’t know why, I just was. Am. I don’t know. They were just always up my ass, and I guess it got me riled up. I could talk back to them, he might have killed me if I did. So I just… I just…”

“Stocked up with anger?” he finished for her.

“Yeah, I stocked up with anger. And didn’t know where to let it out,” she said, and went quiet for a while. “Was your family as insane as mine?”

“Sorta,” he scoffed. “They are wild, but not bad.”

He didn’t want to talk much, but she looked at him curiously. Almost begging him to talk.

“I was adopted when I was nine. My father had already adopted my older brother, and after me he got Tim, Steph and Cass, and then he found out he had a biological son that is just like him and annoying as shit. I’ll tell you, Damian is a lot. He adopted a cow and just told Bruce to deal with it. Kid is insane. ”

The girl looked at him baffled. A cow? Where would a middle class kid raise a cow in Gotham?

“That sounds… fun,” she gave him a big smile.

“Really?” he wondered.

“My family never did anything out of the ordinary,” she stated.

“My family doesn’t know what ordinary means,” he joked. The two of them laughed, TV show long ignored. Jason never forgot how, when she wanted it, her company could be so pleasant. He felt like she really listened to him, that she didn’t think his takes or stories were just a joke or meaningless. He actually enjoyed having her around, and hoped moments like this would become more frequent with her habiting the same place as him.

“You know,” he found the confidence to start speaking again. “I lied to you… That day at the doctor.”

Yn eyebrows frowned in a questioning look, and so, Jason continued. “I… My birth parents. I know who they are.”

He felt guilty that day. For lying so blatantly. But it was something too personal for him, something he hadn’t shared with many. It was a part of his life that still hurt him, even if years had passed, and he had finally gotten a new family. He wasn’t ready to share it then, not in front of a doctor, a total stranger. And he knew the risks of his lie. He was omitting important information for his baby’s health and future, but he wasn’t ready. In fact, he didn’t even know he was ready now. But Yn had been so honest, so open about that part of her life, one he knew now caused her much pain, that he felt the need to offer something back.

It was Yn’s soft hum that broke him from his thoughts and made him continue. “They were addicts. Very poor. I know they did the best the could to raise me, but their addiction was unstoppable. My dad started working with bad people to put food on the table. Last time I checked on him he was in jail. Might as well be dead by now, I haven’t cared to look him up.” His voice came out low, timid. A lump tightened his throat, making it hard for him to speak, but he still insisted. “My mom… She passed away. I’m not sure if it was the drugs, or if she got sick. I just remember her looking really bad.

“I was on the streets for a while, stealing tires and other things, when my father found me. He took me home, gave me food, and I haven’t left there ever since. I mean, I have my own home now, and life wasn’t easy there either, but they still are everything I have. I guess that’s why I grew attached to you so fast… I-I mean, the baby. The idea of the baby. I think I just wanted to have something that is really mine, that I can say I was the one to build and care for. My own family. I just got excited, you know. Let me show you something.”

Avoiding the tears by a millisecond, Jason stood up from his place and went to his closet. There, in the same place he had left it ever since he had bought it, he took the deep brown romper, with cute little ears and an even cuter fluffy tail. He saw it just a few days after Yn came to his apartment with the news he was going to be a dad, just as the idea started to settle in. He hadn’t told his brother, nor his father. The idea just lingering in his head, and once he found it on-line, he had to get it. He proudly got his baby’s first outfit on a whim. But it was too perfect to let it pass, and it was on sale too. It must have been a sign.

Walking fast back to the living room, he dropped at her side on the bouncy cushion. “I got this on-line I think two weeks ago. I thought it was adorable and I just needed to have it. I saw so many babies wearing those on the internet that I couldn’t stop picturing my own baby in one of them. Strolling around, you know. Stumbling on his, or hers, steps, or crawling around in it. Like an actual bear,” he let out a laugh, admiring the garment in his hand.

When he turned to look at Yn, though, he found her eyes watery. Her chin trembled as she bit her bottom lip, an attempt at making it stop. Jason wondered if he had said something wrong. If he had hurt her unknowingly. His own heart started to beat like crazy, bleeding pain upon her painful expression. “Yn? Did I say something wrong?”

“No!”, she cut him before he could finish. She dried her eyes with her hand and continued, “I’m just tired. It’s been a long day, Jay. I’m gonna head to bed.”

Placing a quick peck on his cheek, she might as well have run back to the bedroom. Her sniffles, barely audible. She left him alone, to his own torturing thoughts of what he might’ve just done to make her react like this. Or was it just the hormones? Did pregnant women just act like this?

No matter the answer, he stood in the darkness of the night and in the coldness of the rain. But the lingering burn of her kiss on his skin kept him warm, and could finally sleep soundly.

Sunday was quiet, and Nessie had spent the whole day by your side. Not much talking happened between you, her, or Jason. You just hung around, in silent company.

Jason, somehow, had gotten you a bed, and he and Dale, who had stopped by per Nessie’s request, built it in an instant. The room that was now to be yours wasn’t large, but it was enough. You had to learn to leave with enough now. Jason told you he would help you decorate as you wished, even though he had just painted the walls white in expectation of the baby’s gender. He sounded like he was full of ideas for a nursery, excitedly talking about items he had seen on-line or at stores. Nessie joked he might be the one nesting, and not you.

She left early this time, and your dinner with Jason was shared in silence. The two of them had tried to convince you to call in sick at work on Monday, to try to relax a bit more. Let your new reality sink in. But you knew you couldn’t. Sandra needed you, and you needed the distraction.

When morning came, the sun rays hit you straight in the face, the lack of curtains allowing the room to be bright and warm even if it was still early. You came out still in your pajamas, and immediately the smell of food filled your nose. The past few weeks of your pregnancy made you slightly wary of the smell’s potential to make you sick, but it was impossible to deny it smelled good and tasty.

“Good morning,” Jason greeted with a beaming smile. He seemed to be ready to head out to work. “I made you some breakfast. I’ve already eaten.”

“You got me feeling like a baby with all this food and stuff,” you commented. But it was true, he had been doing just about everything to make you feel comfortable and at home in his apartment.

“Hey! You are a baby,” he stated, and you scoffed. “At least while you don’t deliver my baby, you’re baby.”

You rolled your eyes at him, unable to hold back a smile. “Anyway, I have to go now. Are you really going to work today?” he asked. You just nodded. “Okay…” he breathed out. “If you need anything. And I mean, anything, don’t hesitate to call me. I’ll be ready to answer you whenever.”

“You don’t have to worry, Jay,” you started, but one notification from your phone stole your attention briefly. “I’ll be alright. I promise.”

Jason looked at you as if he didn’t believe your words. His deep blue eyes boring into yours as if he tried to catch your lie in them. With a deep and long exhale, he accepted, or at least he pretended, that you would be fine without him. “Still, call me, okay?”

“I will,” you promised. “But I don’t think I’ll need to.”

Sitting on the island stool, you took a look at the meal he had prepared you. It really did look as delicious as it smelled. But you suddenly weren’t hungry.

You watched him pick up his bags, put on his shoes and leave. The guilt eating at your chest the entire time. He waved you goodbye with a large grin, happy to be starting his week it seemed. Yet, this morning, you struggled. You couldn’t bring yourself to eat with the notification staring right at you. A memory of your darkest hour.

Picking up your phone, you read it one more time.

Clinic girl Are you still going to schedule your abortion appointment?

It still stung as strong as it did minutes ago, when you first saw it on your screen. Your mind battled with the idea, even though you knew your answer very well. The smell of the food suddenly was making you sick, and your appetite, by this point, had completely vanished. Rubbing at your temples, you decided on putting an end to it.

You It won’t be necessary.

Putting your phone away, you got up to change. And you changed quickly, just like your life had done. Quick and sharp like an arrow, or an assassin’s blade. Changing everything in its course. Soon, you were closing the apartment’s door behind you, taking one last glimpse of what your life had become. Of what your future was going to be. You and him. Your baby soon to come in.

tag list: @igotanidea ; @acornacreacure ; @amberpanda99 ; @capswife ; @erochuu ; @fairyeoll ; @gone-batty-fics ; @ichi-matsu-san ; @jasontoddslover ; @jaysgirlx ; @jkvolgs ; @just-lost-inbetween-worlds ; @killxz ; @kysrion ; @lacunaanonymoused ; @loonymoonystuff ; @lothiriel9 ; @marsbars09 ; @munimunni ; @novs9011 ; @spideytingley ; @starcrossedtrek ; @strawberryforks ; @sttrawberries ; @vanillaattack ; @veryfabday ; @vissavin ; @xxsweetnlowxx ; @willieoo ; @wordsfromshona ;

#jason todd au #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd #jason todd x you #jason todd fluff #jason todd x yn #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagines #jason todd blurb #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x female!reader

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concretecultist · 2 months

Text

Sunshine (muscle memory pt. 2)

summary: "true love never leaves, sometimes it just gets lost temporarily. lost in pride and ego, lost in confusion and misunderstanding. but love being lost is never the end; sometimes love needs to breathe before it finds home again."

word count: 17.6k

pairing: reader x noah sebastian

warnings: angst, talks of mental health, feelings of guilt, mentions of marijuana usage, crying, dad!noah, FLUFF

THIS IS PURE FICTION AND IS FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY!!!

A/N: yeah so idk how to write short stories really 😭 so this is a long one!! Please make sure to comment and reblog as it helps us writers out immensely!! Much love!

~Berry🫐

“You’re so full of shit!,”

Matt had come back into town, rushing to tell Noah and the guys what had happened while he was out. Noah, Nicholas and Jolly were playing a video game on the big screen when Matt rushed in, Folio nodding in and out of sleep with a bag of chips in his hands after facing a whole blunt by himself.

“Bro, I know what I fucking saw,” Matt was seething, does Noah really think he would lie about something like this? “This wasn’t some Y/N doppelgänger, it was Y/N and she had a baby, a little girl.. who looks just like you might I add. It’s weird!,”

Noah felt like his stomach fell out of his ass. Matt has to be bullshitting. Maybe you were babysitting? There’s no way you had a baby. There’s no way he had a baby.

“It’s hard to tell who babies look like when they’re still that young. Maybe the guy who told you to go away was her new boyfriend,” Jolly tried to justify.

Matt frowned at Jolly’s disposition. Everyone in this room knew you like the palm of their hands. It took you a while to open up to Noah and become his girlfriend and even longer to open up to them to consider them playfully-annoying brothers.

“She’s not like that,” Nicholas clicked away at his controller, brows furrowing as he soaks in the conversation.

Matt clapped his hands and pointed to Nicholas as if to say that the point he made was based, and it was.

Nicholas continued speaking while keeping his eyes trained on the screen, absolutely obliterating the characters within the game, “I mean think about it. If what Matt is saying is true-,”

“And it is!,” Matt interjected but all Nicholas did was roll his eyes and continue speaking,

“-Then the time between Noah and Y/N breaking up versus now, would not be enough time for her to get pregnant by someone else,”

“One night stand after they broke up?,” Folio answered absentmindedly.

“You know damn well that’s not how Y/N is,” Matt just wanted to pull his hair out, “If you saw that baby then you guys would see I’m not lying,”

Noah felt like he might be sick. Even if you two broke up, you would tell him that you were pregnant… right?

But then again, the last few months of your relationship, he wasn’t there, emotionally nor physically so he can’t blame you if you didn’t. It doesn’t hurt any less though and he doesn’t know what to believe.

“Where the hell did you even see her? I figured she jumped ship,” Noah shrugged, “And even if this is the case, Matt. She blocked all of us on… o-on everything so how do you expect me to go about this?,”

The silence from the blond was enough of an answer for Noah but Matt’s silence didn’t mean he didn’t have one.

“Why are you so adamant on denying this?,”

“I’m not!,” Noah let his character go idle long enough for Nicholas to say fuck it and actually pause the entire game, “I just don’t know what to do! I mean, if she acted like she didn’t want to see you then what makes you think she’ll want to see me?,”

The guys knew Noah had a point, but he should still try.

“It’s Sunday. Every other Sunday she goes to the markets and you should know that because you would always be at the studio with Jolly so she would take me with her,” Matt stood there with his arms crossed, he watched the gears turn in Noah’s head but he knew the brunet still wasn’t getting it.

“Okay?,” Noah was stumped.

“Which means she still has her routines, dork!,” he tapped his fingers to his temple as if to tell Noah to ‘fucking think’

“Meaning on Wednesday, she’ll be at the actual grocery store getting what she couldn’t at the market,” Nicholas answered for Matt.

“Are we sure any of this is a good idea?,” Jolly probed, “If you guys ended mutually then one, why would she not tell you, two, why would she block all of us, and three, why would she act like that when seeing Matt?,”

Jolly, Matt and Nicholas had their suspicions about the breakup. Noah had told them it was pretty cut and dry but they could never get your side as you pretty much went off the grid.

“I don’t know!,” Noah held his hands up in frustration, “I don’t know why you guys are acting like I’m not blindsided here,”

“There’s only one grocery store within the town I saw her near. Don’t be on any stalker shit but I’ll bet you my fucking mixing equipment she’ll be there on a Wednesday at 4:45 before the after work rush comes,” Matt refuted.

It felt strange to Noah that all of his friends seemed to read you like a book, but when he thinks about you, you seem like a mystery. Maybe it’s because you had no choice but to become one after a while. It’s his fault you closed yourself off. You tried until you couldn’t yet Noah made your efforts seem pointless. Noah had neglected you, he became a stranger who wasn’t involved in your routines anymore and he’s had more than enough time to realize that after you left.

When you left it felt like his world had stopped. How did he fuck up so bad? Letting the voices in his head get to him, pushing you away with the idea that you’ll someday be with someone who deserves you. The demons in his head convinced him that he wasn’t that someone.

He let the weight of the world crush him. He let the brain fog cloud his vision, his judgment and now here he is, doing his best to get better. Now has the news that he may or may not be a father. He’s spooked by the idea. If he couldn’t be a good partner how does he expect you to let him in for a chance to be a good father… if he can find you that is? He’s petrified.

Except he knows damn well it doesn’t outweigh the panic you felt when he pushed you away, forcing you to go through it all alone.

It had been about two and a half weeks or so since your run in with Matt and it has done nothing but prompted you to stay inside more than you already have been. Reid agreed to drop off your needed items and even stuck around to help around the house. He’s even brought Ms. Ernie by as she’s missed you.

You wanted to get out though. You missed going on walks around the woods, missed stepping foot on the outskirts of the city. You couldn’t hide away forever and you really couldn’t do that to Noelle, she needed to see the outside world.

That’s how you found yourself in the supermarket in town with Ms. Ernie as she asked you what you wanted for dinner.

“I think some mashed potatoes and steamed broccoli will be good sides,” you suggested.

“Want gravy?,”

“No, I’m more of a butter and pepper kinda gal,” you lightly nudged her, patting Noelle’s bottom as she laid quietly in her baby wrap against your chest.

“You kids don’t appreciate good gravy anymore,” she playfully rolled her eyes.

This is something you really needed. Was this a friendship you expected to have? Absolutely not, still it helps you feel normal. You share your eggs from your chickens and she makes you milk and yogurt, she always invites you over for Wednesday dinner, you invite her over for a nice cool lunch while she’s on break from the truck.

“What do we want for dessert?,” you ask, looking at the array of fresh baked goods.

“Pick whatever you want, sweetie. I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go look at the teas, I’m running low and I think they’re on sale!” she waved, taking the cart to go get her favorite brand of iced tea.

“What are we feeling, Sunshine?,” you lightly bounce, her hand reaching up to feel your cheek, “Do we want carrot cake, red velvet? Ouuu that caramel crumble apple pie sounds gooooood,”

You look at her, heart swelling while she just squeals and smiles at you. You never expected yourself to be a parent, a single parent at that- but smiling down at this face, with the cutest, chubbiest cheeks and big, animated eyes, you wouldn’t trade this for anything.

“I know, I think we should get all of them too,” you rub your nose against hers just to hear her babble again. You would never get tired of that sound, it became your favorite song.

“But!-” you open the cooler door and begin reaching, “-Mama is really craving the red velvet,”

Unfortunately for you though, it was on the top shelf and you just weren’t tall enough. You hear yourself grunt as you reach and honestly it’s rather embarrassing. You try again and see no one nearby to ask for help and you feel defeated. All you wanted was a nice piece of cake. Deciding to give up, you slap your hand down against your thigh and look to Noelle to pout at her, “I guess it wasn’t meant to be”

While you were looking at her, you were in your own world. Everything just seemed to stop when you peered into those eyes. Noelle nuzzled her cheek against the back of your finger as you caressed it. All you wanted was a nice dinner followed by eating cake while she slept on your chest, a nice night with you and Ms. Ernie competing against each other while watching a game show.

You were so caught up in adoring your daughter that you didn’t see the large hand that reached over your head to grab the cake you desired.

“Here you go,” a hopeful drone made its way into your ears.

You were so set on having a good night except when you looked up, your smile immediately fell and you were frozen. Your eyes seemed to deceive you because there was no way this was real. You had to be dreaming. There’s no way he’s standing in front of you.

Your body betrayed you. Everyone speaks of fight or flight and a part of you always believed that if you were in a situation where you had to choose, that you’d choose flight, not being the fighting type and opting to always run and hide. But… Now that you’re in a situation like this, there’s a third option many don’t acknowledge.

Freeze.

There’s fight.

There’s flight..

and then there’s freeze…

And you froze.

Your mind and body let you down. Your feet should be carrying your body as far away from his as possible but you just can’t move. You’re trying but they won’t budge.

That smile he shines isn’t helping either. It's an expression you want to wipe off his face but for some reason you can’t help but continue to stare because it’s a smile that you never expected to see again. It clicks that your mind is betraying you again because why are you finding comfort in it?

His eyes were tired but still so beautiful. You notice they hold hope as well as hesitation.

“You always did like red velvet,” he snickered but you didn’t find anything funny. What kind of sick joke is this?

“Get away from me,” you whisper. It sounded more confident in your head, you didn’t want to sound weak. Another bodily betrayal.

“I’m not here to scare you or hurt you. I just want to talk,” he caught a glimpse of the gorgeous baby in your wrap and his breath was taken away.

Matt was right and not just about the baby. But your routines. You never strayed far from your habits, so to see you walking in the store with your baby to your chest made this much more real than Noah could process at once. The poor guy doesn’t know if he’s relieved or scared shitless.

“There’s nothing to talk about. She’s not even yours,” your eyes flit as the tears fall down your cheeks. It felt like you were suffocating now. You know Matt spilled and really, you couldn’t blame him because if you were in Noah’s position, you’d want to be told as well. But then again.. you wouldn’t be in this position if you were him because you would’ve tried to save your relationship.

Being found so easily wasn’t something you planned and now you’re battling the feelings of wanting to slap him or run in his arms because while he hurt you- Noah was it for you. He was endgame. Seeing him stirred all these feelings inside that were now giving you vertigo, causing your stomach to swirl and a lump to form in your throat.

“Y/N, she looks just like me. There’s a lot to talk about,”

He tried to get another glimpse but you shielded her in the wrap. No, no way in hell. Taking a giant step back, you hold her closer, “I won’t let you take her away from me. She’s all I have, Noah. I won’t let you,”

Noah took a step forward and could only brandish defeat when you took yet another step back.

“I’m not trying to take her from you,” Noah knows he has no right to be offended. Like, let’s think- you two broke up and his best friend bumped into you, now Noah knows about his child and he found you in a random supermarket after you fought tooth and nail to stay away from him. It would make sense why you think he’d take her from you, but that’s far from what Noah wants. It’s a long shot but he wants to make this right.

Noah understands that he fucked up in the past but he wouldn’t do that to you, “That’s why I want to talk. I want a chance to be there,”

A scoff from you echoes in the empty aisle. How rich.

“You weren’t even there for me and you expect me to believe you’ll be there for her?,” You grit through your teeth, “She is too precious to be let down by you, Noah. Do it to me all you want but not when it comes to my daughter,”

A frown etched its way onto Noah’s face, waving his hands as if to say ‘wait, hold up’. He knows he hasn’t been there but he’s not about to be some deadbeat.

“Our… daughter,” he corrected, “You didn’t even give me a chance to know so I could be there,”

“You’ve got some fucking nerve!,” your voice had gone shrill and you were thankful that there was little to no people in the store. You wished he would have approached you outside, then you really wouldn’t have to worry about keeping your voice down.

“ ‘Our’ daughter, Noah? Really?! If you weren’t there before I was pregnant-,”

“I told you I just needed time,” he interjected, still holding onto that sentiment.

“I gave you four years!,” you spat, “Four years of me, Noah. I gave you four years to learn how to love me. To learn how to communicate even up until the end,”

Who knows how much time he would have needed. Who knows if he’d have even gotten his shit together by the time you found out you were with child and gave birth. Having Noelle now, you know for certain you couldn’t have just sat with idle hands.

“Y/N please,” he begged, still holding the cake in his hands, “I love you and I fucked up. It’s been killing me since the day you left and how I never had to chance to make it right, then Matt told me-”

“Matt is wrong. Matt doesn’t know what he’s talking about!,” you really weren’t trying to make a scene here and you were still trying to convince Noah that Noelle wasn’t his.

“She has my eyes, Y/N. She’s a perfect mix of you and me. Please, just, can we talk about this over coffee. I know you don’t owe me anything but can we meet for lunch or something?,”

Before you could answer with a fat ass denial, Ms. Ernie is coming up with her noisy cart, scooting along with a small frown on her face.

“They done moved my tea, I had to ask for help,” she frowned. She was never the type to like asking for help in stores, she liked it when things were easy to find.

She moves to stand beside you, waiting for your response but then she notices the look of shock you’re wearing and meets Noah’s eyes. It took her a second before she gawked, looking to Noelle and back to Noah.

“That’s that baby’s daddy!,” she looks over her glasses and you loudly sigh at her statement. She didn’t always read the room well.

“Ms. Ernie!,”

“Sorry, honey but it’s undeniable,” she shrugs, looking back to Noah, “You gonna put that cake in my cart or just stand there looking pretty,”

Noah stammered before rushing to set the cake down in the cart and turning to you. Words seem to catch in his throat, not exactly sure what to say.

“I know you blocked us all on everything so just… reach out when you’re ready. I really would like to talk about all of this,”

“I gotta go” Looking to Ms. Ernie so that she would get the hint to start walking. You knew you were in for a long night of her lectures, no matter how insightful they always were, you weren’t ready.

You had a feeling for how the night would go now. This feeling had your stomach queasy as if you’re on a boat, feeling the waves rock you to and fro. It was hard to face the music but she was going to make you. That’s just how Ms. Ernie was, you just weren’t ready for her to be right about it all.

“Give him a chance, sweetie,”

Noelle was fast asleep while you leaned on Ms. Ernie’s shoulder, eating your cake and watching Wheel of Fortune. You wanted your night to go just like this but it wasn’t enjoyable, not with all that was plaguing your mind.

“I can’t let him back in,” you think about it, recalling how bad it hurt you the first time around, “Now that Noey is involved, I can’t let my guard down. I’m a mom now, I have to protect her,”

“I’m not saying throw your whole hand in,” she sipped her tea, “Have a drink with him. I can call Reid to help me with our cute lil plum,”

It wasn’t a secret to how badly you were emotionally wounded when you and Noah parted ways, but it also wasn’t a secret to Ms. Ernie just how bad you love him. From the day you met her, she claimed you and Noah would find your way back to each other. You always told her it was a fat chance. Even now, your heart was playing tug of war.

Do you stay away? Leaving him to wallow in his bad decisions? or do you lean into the possibility of mending things?

“I never stopped loving him, that’s why I’m scared,” you sit up to look at her, she looked so noble when looking at you over her glasses like that, “I watched him love me less and less until our love just became an empty shell. I watched him pick his job over me and I can’t put her through that,”

Ms. Ernie reached over to wipe your tears when she caught sight of your trembling chin. It was comforting, like a grandma tending to her grandchild while they experienced a melancholic mood.

“Take it slow. Take time to get to know the new him and he can take the time to get to know the new you,”

“Does he deserve that though?,”

“Mmm,” she shrugged, “Sometimes a lot of good can come out of a second chance. What if you and him were meant to part ways, only so you two could find each other again?”

“Love shouldn’t come to that, no?,” a twinge of confusion worming its way into your tone

“Oh honey. You’ve got a lot to learn about love,” she lightly swatted your leg, “No amount of time and space can separate you from those that are meant to be in your life. This is a second chance to create a new story,”

You called it. You knew she was gonna get all philosophical on you and be right about all of this.

“Don’t rush into it but…” she sighed, “Give it a shot,”

You don’t even know if you were strong enough to lift the metaphorical gun to give it a shot. Pondering her words each bite at a time while you finish your treat, how do you go about this without immediately falling in love with him again? He was so easy to love even when you didn’t want to, even in his faults. One look at him and it felt like the first day you met him.

You were standing at the bus stop one day, sighing at having to take public transportation as your anxiety has been in overdrive since your car was in the shop. Public transportation meant a lot of people in close quarters and you just couldn’t handle that right now.

In the midst of your mind being in a flurry, a group of rowdy men are approaching. You’re too caught up in trying to reduce your apprehension to notice them getting closer until a nameless man bumps into you, knocking your token out of your hand.

Watching it fly from your hand, floating in mid air, all you can do is try to catch it but it just wasn’t your day. Your token falls down the street drain and your gasp causes the rowdy group to stop.

“No! No, no, no, no noooo!,” you fall to your knees and look down the drain to see the token shining up from the bottom. It was mocking you.

“Dang it!,” your head falls in your hands, wallowing in embarrassment. The token station was 9 blocks away, there was no way you’d make it there and back in time. Of course the transit app wasn’t working on your phone either, you’d been telling yourself to get a new phone carrier for months now, now look at you.

“I’m… so sorry!,”

Removing your head from your hands, your eyes move in the direction in which the voice came. Your breath is instantly taken away once again but for a whole other reason.

“I can pay for another token,” he offers, helping you up, his large hands grasping your biceps to get you up right.

“No it’s okay I can-,”

“Please. It’s the least I can do,” the tall brunet insisted. Your words are caught in your throat, eyes trying to drink in his beauty before he becomes only a memory.

“Nice going, Noah!,” a tall blond wearing a hat pushes him.

“Watch where you’re going, asshole,” another chuckled, he was also decked out in tattoos, gorgeous black hair and glittering eyes.

But your eyes were on the inked man in front of you, the one who made your day even more of a rollercoaster than it already has been. While his friends make fun of him, your eyes are tracing over his tattoos, you’d never seen so many on one body in person before.

“Is… is that a Garden of Eden reference?,” you point to his neck.

He touches his throat and chuckles, a noise that you weren’t aware would change your life.

“Yeah, yeah it is,”

“It’s nice,” you mutter, afraid to speak above a certain octave. You don’t talk to people much, you were only a lonely librarian who went to work, staying in the basement all day to organize books and then go home.

“Thanks…?” he trails off but points to you ask if to ask you a question

“Y/N,” you spill out, “M-my name is Y/N,” you anxiously stick out your hand for him to take and shake, “I think he just called you Noah?,”

“Yeah that’s me,” his smile… my God his smile was hypnotizing. His smile could cure all sadness

“You owe me a bus pass,” you point out, “A-and… and I can pay you back over a cup of tea and some fresh scones at my favorite bakery downtown,”

Your confidence not only caught him off guard, but you as well. You’d never suggest something like that to someone and now you’re overthinking the fact that you’ve made such a fool of yourself.

“Sorry that was… that was abrasive and demanding. That was so rude. Y-you were just being nice and I just… you’re just so pretty and oh my God… Y/N shut up-,”

“Hey,” he softly talked over you, wanting to calm you down without scaring you.

“We’ll stick around until the bus comes so I can pay for your pass and we can trade numbers to set up a date for those scones,”

A date… a DATE?! You’ve only ever been on a handful of dates before and they all went terribly. Surely he didn’t mean like… a date-date, right? Like, you’re sure he just meant a little meetup so you could actually pay him back.

“O-okay!,” wide eyed, you nod your head and look around to his friends that are smiling and laughing and you don’t know if they’re laughing at you. It’s okay if they are, you’re used to it.

“Don’t mind them. They’re assholes,”

“We are not!,” a shorter man punches his arm, “I’m Nick by the way, but you can call me Folio. That’s Jolly, Nicholas, Matt, Davis and Bryan!,”

You nod to them all, making a note of their names.

“Y/N,” you sputter, “I’m Y/N,”

“We heard,” Jolly smiled.

“Right,” you give a bashful smile and turn from them to sit on the bench, “The buses are running 20 minutes late today so you really don’t have to wait,” you set your book in your lap.

“I insist. If these jerks are in a rush, they can go without me,” Noah throws a hand back at them. He’s not surprised that that’s exactly what they did.

They left Noah there, giving you two the chance to talk about the most random things, like your favorite book genres to read, things on your bucket list, aliens, paranormal shit. Just fun things. This is the most you’ve talked to any stranger you’ve ever met, you don’t even talk to your co workers like this.

Noah let you yap about your interests, he admired the way you animated your speech with your hands. He was absolutely enamored with the way you bounced in your seat when he brought up a topic that excited you and he made a mental bookmark so he could memorize the way your eyes close when you laugh.

Noah didn’t believe in love at first sight but this felt like it.

While discussing your favorite twilight characters, the noise of the approaching bus pulled you from your conversation, Noah can see how your face dropped. Your conversation went by too quickly.

“We can have more conversations like this,” Noah shows you his screen, displaying his number and you curse to yourself, knowing he can see you shaking while you hurry to type it into your phone. Your heart was beating out of your chest, he is so sweet and so fricken cute and his tattoos are so cool and he just sat here to talk to YOU?! No one ever just talks to you.

He’s even nice enough to help you onto the bus and get you seated before saying his saddened farewells to leave you. His demeanor gave off reluctance and you felt like you were in a rom-com when he stood outside the bus, waving as it began rolling away.

Your face was hotter than hell, there’s no way any of that just happened. Your phone felt heavy in your hands, demanding to be opened. Gnawing at your lip, your fingers dance on your screen, trying to figure out what to say.

You went with a simple text, something quirky. Something that you hope he’ll answer to and not ghost you after the way you opened up to him so easily.

“So… about those scones?”

All those memories flood back and you can feel the dampness of your face. Where did that Noah go?

How did your once grey world that become so colorful so quickly with his presence, fade into grey once more with his absence in the blink of an eye?

What happened to him that he became so detached? What was lying beneath the surface that he let fester until he let it impact your relationship?

You feel Ms. Ernie takes the plate away from you and rests her hand on your cheek, pulling you out of the pit you were digging with your overactive questioning.

“I got the spare bedroom ready for ya, go get some rest,”

Taking her advice, Noelle snuggled into you as you carried her to the spare room where Ms. Ernie had set up a spare bassinet. You had tucked her in, making sure she was safe and secure before plopping down on the bed with a large sigh, heels of your palms pressing into your eyes to subdue your flowing tears. Now that you were alone, the weight of everything came down.

Tired of feeling so scatterbrained, you grabbed your phone, tapping away at the screen to have your thumb hovering over his name. Was this a good idea? Do you give in this easily? Would this be healthy for your mental state right now? Maybe Matt was right, this wasn’t about you, this was about Noelle, she deserved her dad, right?

But what about protecting her? You didn’t want to introduce him into her life just for him to turn around and jump ship when things got too hard.

Here goes the vicious cycle of overthinking and all the possibilities that made themselves known with the heaviness, giving you no other choice but to feel it filling up your chest. How soon did you want to do this? Did you even want to do this at all?

You’ve been blaming yourself since that day at the market. Had you gone earlier like you always do, you wouldn’t have bumped into Matt, or if you had paid attention, you could have avoided him. There were so many outcomes the universe shuffled in its hand and yet the card you were dealt was the situation you were facing right now.

Finally having enough of your own inner dialogue, a deep breath escapes you when clicking on his contact, closing your eyes when hitting Unblock Caller

Just like the day you met him, you’re faced with the challenge of what to say, except this time there was nothing cute or quirky to say. It was simple and serious.

Tomorrow 12pm at the bakery downtown.

That’s all you could come up with before pressing send. It’s almost like he was waiting by his phone, waiting for you to reach out and it makes you kick yourself. What if this is a set up and you’re falling into his plan.

Wait, no.

Noah has messed up but, He wouldn’t do that… would he? He wouldn’t hurt you any further. You hope you’re right because now this is happening.

I’ll be there.

Sleep fought you all night. In and out of sleep to either tend to Noelle or simply because your mind wouldn’t power down for the night. When you were finally able to get some shut-eye, it was like it was already time for the sun to rise.

Ms. Ernie had breakfast ready for you after you fed Noelle, scooting around her quaint kitchen humming the tune of a classic she grew up listening to. Your nerves were bad as you thought of the day ahead.

“So, what are your plans today?,” she questions.

Slowly chewing your food, your eyes avert down to the table. Why do you feel so embarrassed to admit that you’re meeting him today despite her calling it?

“I uhm, I was going to ask if-,”

“Yes. Reid is already on his way,” the elderly woman delivered a smug expression, she’s been on Earth long enough to know how young love works.

You chuckle at her and shake your head, “You don’t even know what I was going to ask,”

“Baby, I can read you like a book. You’re gonna go see him. I could tell before you went to bed last night. We’ve spent enough time together for me to know you’re not over him,”

Knowing this fact made you feel an ounce of shame. You should be over him. He showed his ass last year yet you’re not sure if the alarm bells that are going off in your head are due to actual warning or if they’re sounding off because you can’t seem to do anything other than overthink. It’s a terrible habit and an even more terrible predicament to be in.

“Am I jumping into this?,” you rub Noelle’s back absentmindedly, enjoying the weight of her in your arms to ground you. Maybe you should have given it a couple days. Did it seem desperate to message him so soon? You were supposed to hate his guts

“It was going to have to happen at some point, dear,” she shrugs while cleaning the kitchen, “You’ve left some bricks of milk in the freezer, you’ve left some spare bottles, diapers, all that. With Reid here to help me she’s in good hands times 2,”

Almost as if she had summoned him, Reid knocks and enters through her front door, a bright smile on his face that you’ve come to learn really helps calm you down. You were thankful for the connections you’ve made since being on your own.

These people were your village and you were in good hands, meaning Noelle was too.

“Gooooooood morning!!,” he claps, hugging Ms. Ernie before moving to you to steal a piece of bacon off your plate. Reid hugs you as well, taking Noelle from your arms.

“I can’t forget you, sunshine!,” he holds her up in the air and she screams in excitement, dropping her head on his chest when he pulls her in.

Ms. Ernie could tell your nerves were getting the best of you, it’s happened enough times to know that spaced out look on your eyes.

“Finish eating and get ready. You can take my car,” she scoots around the kitchen to set her keys on the counter.

“I can call an Uber” not wanting to impose

“Nonsense!,” she waves her hand with a frown, “Your car is back at the cabin, my car doesn’t get much use cause I always take my truck. It’s not a problem,”

Reid sits beside you and rubs your back as a means of comfort, it’s written all over your face that you’re distraught, you never did master your poker face.

“Hey, you got this,”

You drop your head on the table and can feel the tears welling once more.

“Am I stupid for letting him in so easily?,” the familiar knot was forming in your throat, warning that tears would soon begin to fall if you didn’t pull yourself together, “He literally told me he didn’t love me like he used to, then last night says he never stopped. It’s hurting my head. I went about year without him and now I’m going to meet him and I’m terrified,”

“Y/N,” Reid began, “How do eat an elephant?,”

You turn to him and frown at his question. But this is Reid, you know he’s about to say something corny.

“How?,”

“One bite at a time,” he comforts, “It’s okay to feel nervous. It’s okay to overthink all of this and it’s okay to think about the cons. But what if this turns into something good?,”

“It was supposed to be something good the first time,” you hiccup. It’s just tearing you apart all over again to think about what could have been if he’d tried harder back then. You could have been a happy family instead of going through this.

“But then I guess I wouldn’t have met you guys,”

“Exactly. Everything happens for a reason,” Ms. Ernie interjects, “But if you get back with him, you better not forget us,”

Her words were jaw dropping, you know she was saying it as a joke but there was a twinge of truth in them. You all have gotten so close and it would crush her if you left and never looked back.

“I would never dream of it,”

You arrived at the bakery an hour early. Your thoughts wouldn’t slow down unless you did and your nerves were on fire the closer it got.

Maybe this was a bad idea. No… this definitely was a bad idea, right? This bakery brought so many memories. What kind of self torture is it to recommend meeting at the place you two had your first date?

It’s 12 now and he’s still not here. Your chest starts to ache and you don’t know if stress is the cause or if it’s because you knew this was too good to be true.

The reality of having a baby scared him off. He wasn’t ready to be a parent. He’s a big shot rock star, sitting here with the realization made it click that he’s not ready to give that up. He loved his job too much.

It was now 12:06 and there was still no sign of him. You weren’t going to text him, he shouldn’t need a reminder, especially because he never followed up today.

Exhaling mournfully, you gather your belongings, standing up to leave when you hear the bell to the front door and heavy, pattering feet-

“I’m here!!,” panting, hands on his knees as he gets to the table, “I’m here! Accident blocked off the highway- had to take a detour- sped here, no parking. Had to park 2 blocks away so I ran,” he slid into the booth, running a hand through his hair to calm down.

His face was cherry red, chest rising and falling quickly, he looked beat. You don’t say a word, you just slip him your water and he whispers his gratitude just as he chugs it, taking a napkin to wipe his mouth.

“I don’t have her here with me,” a monotonous tone leaves you.

He nods, taking a second to compose himself, trying to get his heart rate down so that he could have a calm conversation.

“I expected that,” leaning back in his seat, his eyes settle in on you and you start to feel self conscious, “You’re still as beautiful as the day I met you,”

“Noah,”

“No, I know I fucked up, Y/N. Trust me, no one knows more than me,” he leans his elbows on the table, dipping his head to catch your eyes that way you can see he was being honest, “I’ve kicked myself in the ass ever since then,”

“I can’t just let you back in, Noah,”

“And I don’t expect you to,” his hand comes to his lips, pressing on them as he thinks, “Everyday I thought about you and what I could have done better. I have therapy now, I learned better coping mechanisms. I know that’s something I should have done before I got that bad, but I didn’t just do it for you I did it for me because I wasn’t treating myself the nicest either,”

Maybe you should have taken a page out of his book and gotten help, but with being a single parent, you didn’t really have time for that.

“I loved you and I still do. You said that you probably weren’t the one for me but you’ve got it so wrong,”

His words reverberate off the walls of your ear canal. This is why all of this is confusing. If he was going through something mentally, why wasn’t he honest instead of shattering you to pieces?

“You’re just saying that because there’s a baby in the picture,” you accuse.

“Ask Matt… ask Nicholas even. This has been going on since the day you left. Finding out about our daughter only solidified it even more that I want a life with you,”

There’s no way this is genuine.

“Noah, I can’t just trust y-,”

“I know. You set the pace, I will respect that,”

There.

Those words started to chip away at the walls that you’d built up. They must not have been very thick, or very strong. Or maybe Noah just had that ability.

“Do you… can I see pictures of her at least?,” He asks as if he’s nervous almost, “I get it if you don’t want to I just-,”

A part of you wanted to tell him no. You didn’t want to reveal her to him just yet. He should work a little harder to prove that he’s legitimate in his stance. A few words shouldn’t grant him this opportunity. Nevertheless, your iced out attitude began melting at his expression, showing him a couple pictures wouldn’t hurt.

“No I can,” you open your phone to your camera roll, having a whole album of her. You’ve taken pictures of her since the day you had her. She’s a beautiful baby and you suppose he could see pictures of his own child, he’s missed out on enough, hasn’t he?

“This is when she was born. I did a water birth,” you show him a picture of you holding her, umbilical cord still attached, “My medical staff was great,”

Then you slid through the album showing him other pictures absolutely adoring your daughter and how cute she is

“This is the first time she smiled at me,” you look at him and you can see the sparkle in his eyes as he stares at the screen. There was a gentle smile on his lips, registering in his mind that this little human was a piece of him.

“She’s a sweet baby. Doesn’t really cry, she’s a squealer when she laughs,”

You play videos of her giggling and babbling and he is instantly in love, seeing this look on his face stirs a guilt inside of you that you never felt before. Maybe he should have known. Things could have been resolved by now had you not been selfish.

But there’s that nagging little voice telling you that you deserved to be selfish at least once in your life. It felt like your mind was in a blender.

“What’s her name?,” he looks to you hopefully. Were you ready to give him that information? It’s silly but the more he knows, the easier it will be for him to tear down the walls you built around yourself. It’ll make it easier for him to weasel his way into the picture again and you weren’t sure yet if you wanted to keep this a co-parenting arrangement or what.

“You don’t have to tell me right now,” he sees the hesitation on your face.

“Noelle,” you answer softly, “Her name is Noelle. I named her after you. But we also call her Sunshine, Plum or Noey, that one’s new,”

He broke out in the brightest smile you’d ever seen. You missed that smile, those beautiful lips framing his beautiful teeth. It was a smile that once brought you peace that is now bringing confusion.

“That’s…,” he gives a breathy chuckle, using his fingers to press into his eyes to keep the tears at bay, “That’s lovely,”

“Yeah, look at who her mom is,” you flip your hair as a joke and suddenly the tension isn’t as heavy. You’re supposed to be icy right now but the hopeless romantic within you is fighting the broken-hearted girl. One could only guess who is winning.

“Yeah, exactly,” Noah is seen getting nervous as the conversation progresses, he doesn’t know what questions are off limits, “So what are you up to these days? You’re not at the library anymore,”

“You looked for me at the library?,” you frown. You left that place a long time ago.

“I sat out on the bench everyday for at least three months before we had to leave for tour,”

Why couldn’t he give you that energy before? Where he used to meet you outside on the bench after you got off, sometimes with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, and sometimes with your favorite take out and you’d have little date nights on the library bench. Why did that flame have to die?

Was life about to present you with new, better tools? Improved ways to bring it back? To make it a raging forest fire that can’t be put out? A lover like you can only hope.

“I work from home. With finding out about Noelle I needed something relaxed, I’m still in the field of library science. I work as an analyst,”

His eyebrows perked up, just like the first time you two ever met when you told him what you did for a living. His interest now was a big 180 from last year.

“Y/N that’s.. that’s amazing,” he leans forward, prompting you to talk about it more. You go on and on about your job, about how cool it is to you and he sat there and listened. Not once did he break eye contact, he interacted with the conversation and it felt like things were how they used to be.

“How’s the Bad Omens life?,” you ask, finally getting winded from talking about yourself.

Noah plasters a look of pride on his face. You wanted so badly to keep up with them but that would do you a disservice while trying to mend what was hurting you.

“It’s great! We’re blowing up, so many more places we can tour now, merch sales are off the hook. We have a new one dropping soon and I uh… I designed one for Noelle, I’ll just need her size,”

His words caught you off guard. How does he have something planned for her already?

“Noah,” he’s got you swooning so easily. This was your Noah.

Snap out of it, Y/N!

If he’s serious, make him work for it.

“I think it’s pretty cute! Nicholas and I brainstormed on it together, it’s a Bad Omens x Noelle exclusive,”

The laughter that escaped you was a melody Noah thought he’d never hear again. When it dies down, his mouth begins to itch with a question he’s been wondering for a long time now.

“Are you,” he clears his throat, “Are you seeing anyone?,”

Your eyes flicker at his question, adjusting in your seat. Snatching the cup of water that was on the table, looking him in his eyes when you set it down after a sip.

“I told you,” tongue in cheek, playing with your fingers to ease your mind, “I wouldn’t be able to fall in love with anyone else. You were it for me,”

You search his eyes, wanting to cry for the sole basis that you never thought you’d see them again. They were the eyes you looked to whenever you were desolate, excited, or livid. No matter what you were feeling you could simply look at him and he was always there, until he wasn’t.

“I meant it when I said I loved you and you fucking sat there and told me that you didn’t love me like you used to,”

“I don’t know why I said that-,”

“It gutted me,” anguish covers your face like a mask, trying to keep yourself from crying while that night replays in your mind like a movie, “You just sat there like it didn’t even hurt you,”

“It hurt me like you wouldn’t believe,” he persisted

“So why didn’t you try?,” your lip hurts from biting it so hard, if you don’t stop it’ll bleed soon enough, “I gave you so much of me, even up until I couldn’t, when I had nothing left and you just… sat there!,”

“I was an idiot,” he admitted, “I fucked up when I decided to love my career more than anything. I messed up when I let it weigh me down,”

“I don’t care that you loved your career, Noah. I cared whether you showed up for us or not. You did until you became complacent,”

“I know I didn’t,” he answers, “I know I didn’t try hard enough. I know I gave up too quickly and those decisions have been haunting me every fucking day. I know I made this bed but I don’t wanna lie in it anymore,”

Taking a napkin from the table to wipe your eyes, you look around to make sure no one is looking at you. You thought in your mind that you’d be stronger but deep down, you expected the tears even though it’s embarrassing to be this emotional in public.

“Were you even honest with everyone or did you make me the villain?,”

“I told them it was mutual,” he confesses in shame.

Choking on your sobs, you shake your head and just look out the window, “So you made them think I just skipped town? That’s so fucked up, Noah. I would have never done that to you,”

“I will tell them the truth,” He panicked, “I don’t know why I lied to them I just… I knew they’d make the guilt worse and I figured the damage was done. I knew if they knew the truth they’d make me reach out but after that I didn’t have the right to reach out to fix it,”

There’s a silence that floats between you two after his words. The culpability of hurting you ate at him while the heartache gnawed away at you.

Both were parasites feeding on their hosts. Ruining their lives, doing their best to reduce them to nothing.

The parasitism ends here though.

“If-” you hiccup, gathering your things, “If you want even a sliver of a chance of being in Noelle’s life… of us getting back together, of us being a family… then you’ll start with being honest with our friends,”

Noah was so anxious that he just might throw up. He wanted you back and he didn’t want to miss out on having a family. He’s missed out on enough due to his own transgressions.

It took Noah a few days to muster up the strength to tell everyone. Every time he tried, he stumbled over his words and gave up. He had to do this though, it wasn’t fair to lie on your name to save his face.

Noah found himself with the guys, all gathered for game night. Snacks spread out all over the table, Folio was high, laughing while throwing a squid at Matt on the course, fucking up Matt’s winning streak. All of them were having a good time but Noah couldn’t focus on having fun, what he was about to confess wasn’t fun by any means. After a few rounds of Mario Kart, he paused the game and sighed, many groans of dismay being heard around the living room.

“What’s your problem?,” Jolly questioned, “I was about to whoop your ass on the Bone-Dry Dunes!,”

Noah felt his breathing pick up. It was now or never.

“It wasn’t mutual,” he blurts out, heart racing in his chest, he can hear his blood rushing in his ears.

“The fuck are you talking about?,” Folio burps obnoxiously loud and Bryan kicks him for being gross about it.

“Y/N and I, the break up wasn’t mutual,” he finds his switch controller a lot more interesting than the feeling of their eyes burning holes into his skin.

“Again, that begs the question… what the fuck are you talking about?,” Matt’s voice sounds strained, like he knows and is getting irritated with the suspense.

“Before she left. I told her that I didn’t love her like I used to. I got overwhelmed with the band. I was… I got deep in my head and started to self sabotage. I neglected her and I fucked up,”

A stillness dresses the air, Noah can feel the tension. He can’t bring himself to look up and see their expressions, he’s ashamed, he should be. How did he go so long with this secret? How did he go about his life knowing he broke the trust of one of the sweetest souls that walked this Earth?

“Woah…,” Davis muttered in a daze. His single word response was enough to have all hell breaking loose.

“I’m going to kick your fucking ass!,” Nicholas threw his controller at Noah, heat from his frustration reddening his cheeks, “Are you fucking kidding me, Noah? Is that why she ran off?,”

“That’s exactly why,” he nodded, cursing at himself. He feels so embarrassed to say it out loud. This is the first he’s ever admitted this outside of therapy. These are people that mattered, people whose opinions mattered the most.

Matt sat up like he’d seen a ghost, a light bulb moment happening for him, “That’s why she didn’t tell you about the baby,”

“BABY?!,” Folio screeched, “where the fuck was I?!,” Hands stuck out as if to gesture “wtf” Folio was always ten steps behind everyone else, even when he was in the room at the time of conversations.

“You were super high, you passed out,” Jolly waved at him to shut up, turning to Noah, “You’re our brother which means I have to be honest. That is a dick ass move, Noah. She was nothing but patient with you. She loved you, supported you even when it was hard because you were gone all the time. What the fuck?,”

“She was always there no matter what you needed,” Bryan added, while it took a while for you to open up to everyone, when you did, they became your little family, “She was always there for you, always there for us,”

“I miss when she packed our lunches for the studio,” Folio sighed like he was daydreaming. Once again finding it hard to read the room.

“Not the time!,” Nicholas gritted through his teeth

“I’m just saying!,” Folio defended, “She took care of all of us,”

Nicholas stuck out his hand to shut Folio up. If there was anyone up in arms about this, it was him. They all became your family and it hurt them when you left without a word. Now that he knows the full story, it makes him livid to know it was Noah who pushed you away. This could have been avoided.

“We were worried sick about her, Noah!,” Nicholas was more upset than any of them, and that’s saying a lot, the others were quite upset, “That girl who stuttered over her words the first time she met you still stuttered after years of being with you because she loved you, because you still made her nervous! After years of being with you she was still smitten and because of the stress.. you… y-you say that shit to her?,”

Noah really had no rebuttal. He knew Nicholas was right. There were no words for him to defend himself with. It almost brought him to tears, unsettled by his own behavior and now that other people know… now that the people closest to him know- it changes everything and forces him to reflect even more.

“Instead of talking to her, talking to us to keep you from doing something so stupid- instead of doing.. anything! You pull a coward ass move!,”

Nicholas viewed you as if you were a younger sibling, taking you under his wing, understanding your reclusive personality. He was the first person you connected to outside of Noah. He had a feeling when he only ever got vague answers when asking about the break up.

“It was time I was honest. I want to make this right with her. I want a chance to see my daughter and be a dad but it starts with honesty.” Noah mumbled, “I just want her back and I want a second chance whether I deserve it or not. I want to be there for Y/N like I always should have been. I want to be there for Noelle. I’m sorry it took so long to come clean.”

“Yeah?,” Matt’s jaw clenches as he ponders what has been said. He has his own thoughts regarding the matter but Nicholas seemed to cover them all for the most part, “I hope she makes you work like hell for it!,”

All Noah can really do is agree, they’re right. He was a coward, he did take the easy way out instead of facing his own problems and insecurities, and you should make him work like hell to get you back, to earn his place in Noelle’s life.

“Noelle,” Folio trails off, giggling to himself as he says the name, “Noeeeellee,”

“Dude, shut the fuck up!,” Jolly shouted with a bit of laughter layered underneath, Folio is such an airhead, it’s hard to have serious conversations like this around him. At least it eases some tension.

“It’s a cute name!!,”

“She’s an adorable baby,” Matt confirmed, “I only got a glimpse of her but she looks just like Noah,”

“Nah,” Noah shook his head, “She has my eyes but she has the curl of Y/N’s lashes. She has my lips but she has her mama’s chin. She has my dimples but Y/N’s cheeks. She’s both Y/N and me. She’s beautiful,”

Davis scoffs, raising his eyes, “Well you better get your shit together,”

“Yeah! I’m ready to be one kick ass uncle!,”

“Shut up, Folio!,”

You had taken it upon yourself to unblock everyone, figuring that if Noah told them the truth that they’d want to reach out, which they did.

It was scary at first, Noah had been a coward but you had your cowardly moments as well. Running off and not saying a word to people who cared about you- it wasn’t the nicest thing to do. Going through this with Noah had you realizing there are some things you would have done differently. This is a time of self reflection for everyone.

Although you’d been talking with them over the last week or so, you didn’t let the conversation stray too far from how you were doing. You weren’t ready to introduce them to Noelle or the idea of her just yet, you’re sure Noah has talked about her a bunch but you didn’t want to get too close to everyone again as of right now.

Ms. Ernie and Reid have been watching Noelle while you and Noah rebuild yourselves.

Dates that you made sure to let him know weren’t ‘actual dates’, walks at the park that turned into introspective discussions. It was all a work in progress and it made Ms. Ernie’s words hit even harder, there’s a lot to learn about love and that sometimes second chances are worth it.

You made him work like hell, but he was doing pretty well. He had different plans each day you guys hung out. He was attentive. He was gentle, he even told you about what he and his therapist talked about after each session.

In reality, you could tell he was doing better. You still had some reservations and there was still a long way to go but ultimately he was making a true effort. You could see the change he was making. Granted, it was a change that should have happened a long time ago but things happen the way they’re supposed to and when they’re supposed to.

That sentiment itself was a hard pill to swallow.

Today he took you on a picnic in the park, packed your favorite foods and drinks. He was really laying it on thick, others might find it cringe but it was making your heart flutter.

“I never did thank you, for telling them the truth,” popping a grape in your mouth, “I know it wasn’t easy,”

“It needed to happen. I knew better and I shouldn’t have lied to them but most importantly, I shouldn’t have lied on you. I was a coward and that’s not who I want to be to you… or Noey,”

A pleasant hum emitted from your chest, brows raising at the nickname that left his mouth.

“That one seemed to stick, huh?,”

“Noey is different… and it’s super close to Noah,”

“Noelle is already close to Noah!,” you bicker, both of you in high spirits while you go back and forth

“Noah has four letters and so does Noey,”

“Oh you’re such a kiss ass!,” you push him and he falls over dramatically.

“Help! Someone help!,” he shouted, feigning like he was injured

“Oh my God, Noah, stop! Someone is gonna think you’re serious!,” you reach over him to cover his mouth but he licks it and you squeal

“EEUUUGHHH!! You’re so gross!!,” you yank your hand back, he’s laughing like a hyena. Eyes wrinkling, hand in his chest and head thrown back.

“You used to do that to me all the time!” Justifying his action, you stick your tongue out at him while wiping your wet palm on his cheek

“Which means you can’t steal my move!,”

It was tense the first couple of meet ups and each one gets you closer to bringing Noelle around. These past couple of times had broken the ice and it started to feel like time hadn’t passed.

“Hey uhm, are you?- do you still live at the house?”

Noah settles down, feeling the energy shift to something a little more serious.

“Yeah. Didn’t have the guts to move. Why?,”

You twist grapeless vine in your hands, afraid to say the words now that you’re feeling comfortable to bring it up. It’s about 2 months of this and Noelle is a little over 6 months now.

“I’d like to bring Noelle by,”

Noah struggled for air, coughing up his drink and you can’t help but snicker at the liquid dripping off his chin.

“What?,” his eyes are as big as saucers

“Unless you’re not ready. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed,”

“No! No, I.. Y/N you have no idea how much I would love that,”

If you weren’t mistaken, you swear you see tears welling in his eyes

“I’d love to meet my daughter,”

This was a big step for you and an even bigger one for Noah. Both of you were scared beyond your wits.

“I’d like for it to just be us and then we can work up to getting the guys to meet her? And then you can meet Ms. Ernie, Reid and his husband, Morgan,”

You had to make sure to set some ground rules, Noah responded without any issues knowing that at the end of the day- you call the shots and he has to abide by them if he wants this to work. Yet despite feeling good about all of this, there’s still a smidge of uncertainty.

“What’s on your mind?,” even after all the time spent apart, reading you was like muscle memory.

“I still feel resentful,” you look to him to see his shoulders sagging, “I know you’re tired of it,”

“I don’t expect you to get over any of this anytime soon. In a way, you’re grieving and I can’t police how long you mourn. I can only help ease it,”

You didn’t really think of what you were going through as mourning but you guess you can see the similarities. What you two had was long gone and even in the face of starting over, albeit with the same person, you were still allowed to miss how things were and feel a bit out of sorts about what happened.

“It’s just,” you watch his hands as he picks at his palms, a nervous tick he’s always had. You’re once again feeling a sort of guilt making him feel like this but it’s a price he has to pay, right? You didn’t ask to be hurt to begin with.

“Resentment is so weird. I want to forgive you, Noah. So fucking bad I want to forgive you because I can’t keep doing this with you, I wish I could forget so I could just… hug you, kiss you, hold your hand like we used to,”

“You set the pace, Y/N. I told you no matter what, I respect it. I wish I could take it all back. God, I wish there was a way for me to go back so I didn’t fuck up and hurt you,”

“And my mind is struggling to comprehend why the fuck you would do that to me,” anger bleeds into your tone.

Noah is seen blubbering like a fish out of water as he tries to find his words. You can see the cogs turning in his mind, recalling the very night he ruined what you two had.

“There’s no explanation,” he declared, there was nothing good enough to excuse why he did what he did.

“No excuse, no reasoning that will ever be good enough for what I said to you. For how I treated you. It was unacceptable and there are no words to describe how apologetic I am. All I can say is, is that I’m so thankful you’re here, even giving me this chance,”

“You were all I could think about,” turning your body to him, he needed to know the turmoil you endured, “You hadn’t touched me in almost 3 months by the night I left. I was so consumed with the stress I didn’t realize I missed my period. I went to the doctor and that’s when I heard our little girl’s heartbeat,”

It didn’t get past him that you finally said our daughter and not just “my”. At this point, he has turned to look at you, listening closely, making sure you knew he was paying attention.

“I moved to the countryside and that’s where I met Ms. Ernie and Reid. They were my people while I was managing heartbreak. Keeping myself physically and mentally healthy so I could bring Noelle into this world. You… you should have been there Noah, you could’ve been there,”

“I know,” he blinks, tears falling down his cheeks just like yours were, “I missed out on so much because I couldn’t get my own shit together,”

“I took that pain and restructured it to fuel me so I could be the best parent I could be. I never thought I’d be sitting here in front of you. I never expected to see you again. Ever. But despite all the alarm bells, I am so fucking glad I am because I missed you, Noah. But I hate you so much at the same time,”

His face fashioned that of anguish at your last few words. It was hurting him but he didn’t look away from you, he didn’t hide his eyes, he’s now feeling what you felt that night and then some.

The anxiety. The fear, the fucking aching that burned from his gut all the way up into his throat. The pounding in his head, the heat that blanketed his skin. He can’t believe he did this to you. He can’t believe he sat across from you at the table that night, watching you fall apart and still said what he said.

“I don’t know how you expect us to rebuild anything,” your voice flows into his ears and he can feel his chest tightening, finding it harder to keep his breathing at a normal pace.

“Hell, I don’t even know how I expect us to rebuild anything but I’m going to try because that’s what you should have done!,”

“I-I know. Fuck, I.. I’m aware,” taking a deep breath to try to swallow his cries.

“I’m going to do what you couldn’t do,” a wild fire burns behind your eyes and he realizes this is a new you. The soft spoken Y/N is still there but this version of you takes no shit. You have a daughter now, you had to build tough skin

“I’m going to prove to you that fighting for what you want isn’t a lost fucking cause. I’m going to show you that no matter what is going on in your head, no matter what the voices are telling you- that I am here and I will be here until we are dust returned to the universe, Noah,”

You hated to see the way he dug his fingernails into his palms and you wanted nothing more than to grab his hands to massage the tension and cramps away.

“I know this is eating at you,” you whisper, “For the longest time I wanted it to. But not anymore,”

A great tremor overtook him, flexing his jaw to ease the ache from clenching it so hard. He had to break eye contact just this once to look up at the sky to will the tears away.

“Just take a page out of my book and take what you’re feeling to change and be better. No more apologies. Don’t be sorry, be better,”

“You sure you got everything?,” Reid packed your diaper bag into the front while you buckled Noelle into her carseat.

“Yeah I got my cooler for the bricks. My pump, extra clothes, extra wipes-,” you continue to list other items and at this point you’re not listing them to Reid, you’re listing them because you’re scared.

“You got this,” Ms. Ernie kisses your cheek and you look at her with worry, “Don’t look at me like that. You both are going to be okay. He’s been groveling for weeks on end, he’s been respectful, if you want to back out I’m sure he’d understand?,”

“No! No. I think I’m ready. She’s already 6 months old now, he deserves this much,” It’s crazy to think that you’ve been at this with Noah for about a few months now.

You’re wrapped in an embrace of them both, Reid whispering words of reassurance as he pulls away, helping you settle in the car.

“Let us know when you get there, okay?,” Ms. Ernie waves from her front step.

You assure her that you’ll do just that. A lively wave is sent their way as you pull out of the driveway to make it to a house that you once called home, a house that could have been a home for Noelle.

You didn’t need a GPS, you’d never forget the way there even if you tried. You could drive there blindfolded. The drive really wasn’t that long and a part of you wishes it was because when you pull up your stomach is full of butterflies.

He’s probably nervous too. Don’t stress about it. As if he was waiting by the door, he’s out on the porch, wiping his hands on a paper towel when you exit your vehicle.

“Need help with anything?,” a nervous smirk across his face, he looks like he’s going to throw up at any second.

“Wanna grab the diaper bag and cooler?,”

He didn’t give a verbal answer. He was already down the steps and to your car before you finished asking. You grabbed Noelle’s carrier and waited for him to get the other items. Seeing him with the lavender diaper bag on his shoulder stirred a feeling inside of you. He looked like a dad, he looked good. A yearn made itself present in your body, you just wanted to be a family.

“Follow me,”

You could tell he was excited, excited but tense. He didn’t want to fuck this up.

Once you’re settled in the house, he heads upstairs, mumbling that he’ll be right back. When taking your jacket off to hang it on the second hook on the back of the door, you realize the hook still has your name on it. He never took it off, this was your hook, everyone knew not to hang their things on it. And beside yours, you see one for Noelle. Noah, Y/N and Noelle. Your fingers brush against the names and a smile creeps on your face.

“I know she probably already has one but I figured it would be nice if she had one here. She’ll probably end up falling asleep depending on how long you stay,”

You turn around to see a lavender playpen with her name on the side.

“In a lot of the videos and pictures you showed me, she’s wearing lavender so..,”

“Noah,” you coo, stepping over to him, “That’s so sweet,”

You turn to Noelle in her carrier and unbuckle her, “If you wanna go wash your hands, you can hold her,”

“Yeah?,” his eyes lit up like a little kid on Christmas. He didn’t even wait for you to answer before he’s jogging into the kitchen to scrub his hands clean. About a good minute later he’s rushing back in but he seems hesitant.

“Don’t worry,” you assure him, “I show her pictures just like I show you pictures. She knows you. She won’t really be fussy”

You cradle her while handing her over to him.

“She likes to be held like this, just support her neck,”

Noah takes her from you softly, his large hands make her seem so small, even at six months. He stares at her in awe and sits down gently. Noelle babbles at him, waving her hands and smiling.

“Hiii, baby girl,”

You can hear the tears as he speaks to her and you take a seat beside him, not bothered by how close you were.

“I’m your papa,” he chokes on his words, caressing her cheek with the back of his finger, “You’re so beautiful just like your mama,”

There weren’t many words said as Noah soaked in this moment with you watching. His breath is silently hitching from his tears but he only cries harder when Noelle reaches out and touches his cheek, seemingly wiping a tear away.

Noah sits back on the sofa, setting his feet flat on the cushion so he could lay Noelle on his thighs so that she was sitting up.

“You’re so sweet,” he kisses her hand, causing her to squeal and giggle. He looks to you with wide eyes and a bright smile

“You were right!,”

“I told you!!,” you lean closer and watch the way Noelle is taking in the moment as well. She stares at Noah with a look of bewilderment, she’s never been around him physically yet relaxes into him like she’s known him since day one. She knows that’s her papa.

“Thank you,” he says simply, “I’m far from deserving but thank you so much, Y/N,”

“You deserve to be a dad, Noah. And she deserves one,”

“I won’t fuck this up,”

“You better not,” you poke his cheek, “Because she needs you… we both do,”

You let Noah record videos of him and her, letting him make up for lost time. He carefully danced around the living room with her while playing happy baby songs.

“I heard songs like this make them happy!,” he insisted. Each time she squealed he hugged her tighter, absolutely adoring the sound of his baby laughing with him. You couldn’t help but record some videos of your own, wanting to look back at this moment.

The foundation still needed some work but what is life without the effort? What’s love without effort? He said he wouldn’t screw it up this time and you’re holding him to his word.

“She’s down for bed,” Noah comes down the stairs, heading to the kitchen to return with two mugs

“She’s never fallen asleep that fast,” taking a mug from him, you smell your favorite tea in the way he used to make it.

“Does she wake you up throughout the night? I can be on baby duty so you can rest. U-unless you planned on going home tonight. I can drive you home, I don’t want you driving while you’re tired,” he offered.

“Can we stay?,” circling the rim of your cup, finding the heat from your tea comforting.

“You two always have a place here,” he sets the baby monitor on the table and takes a sip of his coffee. He was always a late night coffee drinker, at least it was decaf, he just liked the taste.

There was a comfortable lull that fell over you two and sitting on this very couch in this living room felt like home, like you belonged here. You made a home out of the cabin in the countryside but *this… this is where you felt like you were meant to be. Drinking your warm beverages on the couch while your child slept, simply enjoying each other’s company.

Noah randomly stands up and turns the tv on. He’s getting a game console, plugging it up and connecting the remotes. You’re watching in confusion while he does this all as if he’s on a mission.

Once he gets everything connected he pulls out a game case.

Michael Jackson: The Experience

“Nooaaaaaah,” you say suspiciously, “What are you doing?,” setting your cup on the side table, you watch with a questioning frown when he moves the coffee table

“Stand up,” insisting with a wide grin, he takes your hand despite your wariness

“What are we doing, Sebastian?”

“We’re putting all those nights practicing with the music videos to use. I scored these at a yard sale and figured we could dance to some good ole Michael like we used to,”

He hands you a Wii remote and the butterflies erupt again, spotting the same broken lampshade that he still hasn’t gotten rid of.

“You think you still got it?,” you tease, wrapping the band around your wrist.

He scoffs loudly, rolling his eyes, “You wish I lost it,”

“Put your money where your mouth is,”

He side eyes you with a little smirk, choosing the song he wanted to dance to. You expected Thriller, hell maybe even Ghosts. But he surprised you when he chose Do You Remember the Time

“If I win. I get to take you out on a romantic date,” he sighs triumphantly, he knows since you two started to rebuild something new, you didn’t want to get too romantic just yet.

“Okay,” you nod confidently, much to his surprise, “But if I win… you’re on baby duty for a night. That means getting up to feed her, change her diaper, cuddle-,”

“All I’m seeing is a win-win situation here,” turning back to the screen he hits play, “Bring your A game. I’ve been practicing for this very moment,”

He says it as if he’s joking but he was serious. This was a song you two spent many nights listening to, belting it at the top of your lungs during late night drives, to dancing in the kitchen to it after date night.

This little gesture may seem like just a night of dancing to a game to you but it was much more to him. So when the gold room appeared on the screen after picking your characters, he became timorous.

The beat begins and you feel a little silly following the movements at first. You hadn’t danced with Noah in ages but he probably feels just as goofy. You notice him missing a few beats and peak to see him adoring you, the way your nose crinkles when you smile, the way your eyes move across the screen, trying to focus.

“You’re not gonna win if you keep staring at me, Sebastian!,”

“Fuck!,”

~Do you remember when we fell in love? We were young and innocent then~

You trip over your feet as the dance begins to incorporate footwork, glaring at Noah when you hear him laughing at you.

~Do you remember, back in the fall? We’d be together all day long~

You bend your knees and shimmy your feet along the carpet while Noah stands tall and moves in the opposite direction over you. Feeling him this close, despite just playing a game, had your heart palpitating.

You never thought you’d have nights like this again. With anyone, let alone Noah.

You hear Noah singing to himself while he follows the dance moves to a T, seeing his score get higher than yours had you ready to wreck his streak.

“Do you remember the time when weeee first met, girl?” He sang obnoxiously while looking at you, purposely singing off key. You snicker at his expressions, missing a move but you can’t bring yourself to care.

Noah seemed so carefree and comfortable in this moment that it started to overshadow what had once hurt you, somewhat putting it on the back burner.

~Those sweet memories, will always be dear to me~

You and Noah are now face to face, chest to chest, you two seemed to forget the game. Both of you breathing heavily from laughing and going all out on the dance moves.

“You’re gonna lose,” you pipe up, turning around to focus back on the game. You knew that if you stood there any longer you’d have kissed him.

Noah seemed to snap out of his daze, immediately hopping back into where he was. You have to squat in front of him for the next move and it seems to last forever, feeling the burn like you’re in the gym.

“Oh my God!,” groaning in relief when you’re finally able to move from your position but the relief doesn’t last long when you’re made to go back, moving your arms up and feeling his hands touch yours.

It sounds dramatic but you swear you feel a little tingle when he touches you. Maybe it was static or maybe it was the fact you missed his touch. A sensation that you felt so safe in, so comfortable and loved.

You two slide away from each other, swinging your arms back and forth. You’re still following the screen but Noah decides to freestyle. Falling to his knees to sing the song to you, you’d worry about waking Noelle up but she was a deep sleeper.

“Do you remember girl?,” he holds his fists up, singing passionately, “On the phone! You and me!! Till dawn, 2 or 3. What about us, GIRL!!,”

You can’t help but throw your head back in entertainment at his dramatics. He was a performer for sure.

“Do ya, do ya, do ya, do ya- in the park, on the beach! You and me, in Spain! What about, what about- rrrap tap tap, rrrap tap tap!,”

His ad libs bounce off the walls and you’re losing it.

“You look insane!,” you say over his off-key singing.

He continues to sing despite your judgment, standing up and grabbing you by the shoulders, shaking you playfully

“Yeah! Yeah! Wooo!!,”

The game is now complete and you fall back on the couch to catch your breath.

“I freestyled and I STILL won!,” he claps and points at you, “Pick out your prettiest dress, doll face because we’re going on a DATE!,”

He stands in front of you, hands on his hips in victory and all you can do is cherish the view.

“Come here,” you stand before him, hearing your heart pound in your ears as he steps forward until his chest is level with your eyes, his famous chain glinting in the light on the room.

“What’s up?,” the confidence he just displayed was now replaced with diffidence.

“You better not hurt me again,” it was strange being this close to him, “If you hurt me you’ll not only lose me but Sunshine as well and I don’t want that for her. So if this is going to happen- you talk to me when your insecurities set in. You talk to me before you self sabotage. You talk to me no matter what so that you continue to show up for our little girl. Do you understand me?,”

Noah nods his head so quickly that you think it just might fall off and roll away.

“I understand. I won’t make the same mistake twice. I love you and I love our baby. I was a fool to fuck up the first time. I won’t be that again,”

“Good,” you nod, stepping away before patting his cheek with a sly grin.

“Because you’re on baby duty tonight,”

His jaw drops at your antics, he doesn’t mind really. He’s starting to feel like an actual father now.

“But I won!!,”

You wake up abruptly to Noelle screeching, a type of cry you’ve never heard before and you turn to see Noah’s spot empty. Scrambling to get out of bed, you rush downstairs to see him panicking, tears in his eyes and red in the face

“I’m sorry,” he muttered to her, frantically trying to calm her

“What happened??,” you kept your composure, not wanting to stress him out anymore than he already is. He hands you Noelle and he pulls at his roots, absolutely distraught and upset with himself.

“She was hungry and I… I heated up her milk for too long. Fuck, Y/N I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-,”

“Noah,” a soft hand on his chest, “It happens. She’s okay,”

“I made her cry,”

“She’s okay,” you reassure, “See,” you wipe her tears and she’s just left whimpering now.

You take his hand to sit him down at the table and give Noelle back to him despite his fear

“Don’t tense up. She’ll feel it and become fussy. Relax,”

He took heed to your words, relaxing so that Noelle could follow suit.

“I should have put a brick in the fridge to thaw,” you mention, “I usually do if I know I’ll be too tired to breastfeed but I was exhausted so it slipped my mind. A brick will usually thaw in the fridge overnight and when it’s time, just set it in a cup of warm water for a few minutes and you’ll be good to go,”

You take her bottle and run it under some cool water, testing it on your wrist, deeming it cool yet warm enough for her to drink. You sit beside Noah and hand him the bottle.

“Here, you’re all set. 45 degree angle while she drinks,” you instruct. He follows your words and Noelle hums around the bottle, cuddling into Noah’s shirtless chest, “She likes skin to skin contact while feeding. Now she’ll really know you’re her papa,”

You realize this is the same table he broke your heart at, tracing the pattern of the mahogany wood. You wouldn’t let that night haunt you anymore. Here’s to new memories. Now, this table will be remembered as the table that he fed your daughter for the first time, a learning experience for him.

“I’m so sorry for hurting you, honey,” he whispered to her, kissing her forehead while her eyes fluttered sleepily, “I’m still learning but it won’t happen again,”

You know his words were directed to you as well, finding solace in the reassurance.

Once you teach him to burp her, the three of you make your way upstairs and back to bed.

“You can put her in the crib,�� climbing into the bed that was once yours to claim. He took the time to build her crib and didn’t even wanna put her in it.

“I will once I’m ready to sleep, I just want to spend time with her is all,”

Despite the infant sleeping, he wasn’t ready to put her down. His hair was thrown all over his head, his eyes here heavy but he was willing to fight sleep just to hold her in his arms for as long as he could.

“I missed out on enough, I just wanna hold her,”

“Okay,” you nod, sitting up and scooting closer to rest your head on his shoulder, “Sing, you are my sunshine, to her. It’s her favorite song and I think she would like to hear it from you,”

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,” he begins with ease, “You make me happy, when skies are grey. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away,”

“You are my star shine,” you add in, “My only star shine,”

You reach over to hold her small hand, resting your hand on his chest,

“I love you so much, each night and day,”

Noah leans his head on yours, finding comfort in the words you sing.

“You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my star shine away,”

You look up to Noah, refusing to move your head off his shoulder so he rears back to look at you, your face being illuminated by the little nightlight you had plugged in for Noelle.

“You are my love shine, my only love shine,” he sings lowly, surprising you that he even knows the third verse of the nursery rhyme, “I miss you so much when you’re away,”

The smile that appeared on your face was one he’ll never forget, especially when you begin to harmonize with him quietly, watching the way Noelle snuggles into his chest as if she can’t get close enough to him.

“You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you,” you two sing together, curling into him even more when he plants a kiss on the crown of your head.

“Please don’t take my love shine awaaaay,”

Days had passed since that night. You and Noah alternate every couple of nights of whose place to stay at. He finally got the pleasure of meeting Ms. Ernie and Reid officially, offering his gratitude to the people who kept you and Noelle safe when he fell short. Despite his own shortcomings, they welcomed him with open arms.

Reid currently had Noelle in the living room, both of them watching some cartoon movie while Ms. Ernie helped you with your hair, preparing for the night Noah had planned for you.

“Do I look like I’m trying too hard?,” you turn to her, concern painted all over your face.

“You look like a beautiful youngin who is about to steal the heart of the love of their life,”

“You flatter me,”

“Well it’s true,” she boops your nose and tucks your hair behind your ear, “You’re going to have fun!,”

Noah wouldn’t exactly tell you what he had planned. He just said to dress in something comfortable and cute, so you stepped out of your comfort zone, going with a light floral dress, styling your hair to your comfort and a light face of makeup.

When you heard the doorbell to your cabin go off, your stomach sank.

“Oh goodness!!,” turning to the smiling woman above you, “He’s here!! He’s 10 minutes early!,”

A light rumble comes from her, shaking her head and standing you up, “You would have still freaked out even if he showed up on time. Head up there!,”

You didn’t have time to respond due to the doorbell ringing again. A nervous Noah stood on the other side, worried that maybe you changed your mind. When the door swung open, both of you were speechless.

You stood there, radiant as ever with Noelle in your arms. A nervous grin framed your teeth and Noah watched as you rubbed Noelle’s back, not for her comfort but for yours. You were antsy. Just as beautiful as the first day he met you when he knocked your bus token out of your hand.

Noah stood there in a plain, white shirt tucked into a pair of sleek black joggers. You noticed he cut his hair, cutting the sides short and keeping the top longer. He recreated the outfit he wore when you two first bumped into each other.

“Hi,” your throat tight around the simple word.

“H-hi,” he had a hand behind his back and stuck the other out, “Nice to meet you, my name is Noah,”

You frown at his words until you realize this is a reintroduction.

“Hi, Noah. My name is Y/N and it’s wonderful to meet you,”

Both of you are similar to giddy teenagers falling in love for the first time. He handed you a bouquet of your favorite flowers and you were quick to gasp. You loved flowers, you loved it even more when he gifted them to you.

Inviting him in, Noelle was quick to reach for him and he spun her around while you retrieved the glass milk bottle you received from Ms. Ernie to use as a vase.

“Looking gooooood!,” the elderly woman entered the room and pinched Noah’s cheek lightly.

“I can clean up nice!,”

Reid entered the space and gave his compliments to the both of you and caught sight of the flowers, nudging Noah.

“Nice choice,” he whispered.

Once both of you give Noelle a ton of kisses, Noah takes your hand and guides you out to the car so you all could get your evening started.

“You gonna tell me what you have planned yet?,” hounding him as he begins to drive.

“Dinner,” he answers, a smirk on his face to tell you that it wasn’t just dinner.

“Why so cryptic?” you poke him

“Relaaaaax,” he reaches over to grab your hand and squeeze. The two of you missing this simple gesture, feeling safe like this, like all will be okay, it will- but you’ll never get tired of the warm feeling of security.

Noah took you out to your favorite restaurant, a nice night of expensive wine and taking bites of the other’s food. A bunch of blushing, a bunch of butterflies, laughter and unspoken I love yous.

Now you find yourself with your hand in his, strolling downtown, him insisting that the night isn’t over. When you stop walking, you peer up to him and see an uncertain smirk on his face. Looking up to the sign on the building, you see what he had planned.

“Kiln of Sunshine,” you read aloud, “Couple’s pottery?”

All he does is laugh at your surprise and leads you inside. There aren’t many couples but it’s a nice intimate place. Dim lights strung up on the ceiling, custom printed aprons with your names on it, which he helps you put on and tie.

When you’re directed to your designated spots, he sits behind you while you sit in front of the wheel.

“Welcome to the Kiln of Sunshine! We are a couple of potters who met through our love of art,” a young woman stands in front of the class, it’s hard to listen when Noah is so close like this. He still makes you so damn nervous.

“We created this abode to help other couples not only find a new hobby, but also grow together by means of communication and teamwork through making art!” The woman’s husband added with excitement.

You look over your shoulder to see Noah already looking at you

“You look so beautiful,” he whispers. You have to tuck your chin into your shoulder to hide the fact your face was burning up at his compliment.

The couple teaching gives you all step by step instructions to begin and then it’s just you and Noah left to your own devices. They gave you the guidelines but now it’s up to you and Noah to decide what you two create.

Much like a relationship.

“Here, let’s try this,” Noah’s large, clay covered hands form to yours, his chin resting on your shoulder, “Pinch here,”

“Maybe we should coil instead,” suggesting lightly.

“Okay, yeah,” he nods, taking in your point of view, “I think it’ll turn out better that way,”

Noah hands you the wet sponge, watching the way your tongue sticks out from your lips as you concentrate.

“I brought us here because I came to a lot of conclusions during our time apart,” his body frames yours like a puzzle piece, after a while, instead of you taking the lead, you let his hands guide yours now.

“Yeah?,”

“Pottery teaches us a lot about accepting faults- appreciating the imperfections and flaws that can turn into something beautiful,” he moves your hands to pinch the clay in certain spots and watch your piece come to life.

“Furthermore, we have patience and persistence- pottery, like relationships, demands patience at every turn. To keep going in the face of difficulties, even if you don’t see the results right away. It takes time to mold something beautiful”

Noah kept going and you’d be lying if his words weren’t tear jerking. While you two were rekindling, you had some introspective moments of your own. Realizing that there are some things you could have done differently yourself. Especially since finding out about the mental battles he was facing during the last few months of your relationship, which caused him to break it off.

You were so caught up in your own mind that you didn’t realize Noah’s actions were due to the fact that it wasn’t Noah- he pulled back from you because he was trying to figure his own labyrinthine mind out, that’s why he kept asking for time, he just felt ashamed to say it out loud.

Both of you got time, even if it wasn’t in the most ideal form.

“I’m still learning and growing and I know I have a long way to go for you to fully trust me because of those faults, but I’m patient and I’m not going anywhere,”

You felt him kiss your shoulder, causing goosebumps to flourish on your skin.

“Well… maybe we won’t need the water bowl to wet the sponge anymore since you’ve got me crying over here!,”

The laughter that erupts from the two of you is boisterous, providing comedic relief in the midst of him expressing his emotions.

“You two are doing great over here!!,” the instructor complimented the piece the two of you were crafting.

You felt the swell of pride in your chest because whether she was talking about your pottery piece or not, you and Noah are doing great.

The night progressed beautifully. You had to leave your piece at the place overnight so it could get fired and glazed before you took it home to decorate yourselves. So, Noah took you on a stroll, your hand in his, taking in the view of the pretty lights set up downtown. Finding yourselves in front of the big fountain in the center, you stick your hand out to him

“C’mon, big money. Hand over a quarter,”

He quickly digs in his pocket and hands you a shiny coin in which you hold up to your mouth, whispering to it before throwing it in the fountain. The light plopping sound it made was satisfying to you.

“What did you wish for?,”

You notice him taking his shoes and socks off, rolling up his pant legs and you feel suspicion rising in your belly.

“That would beat the purpose of a wish!,”

“Take your shoes off,”

“No! I know what you’re about to do and I spent too much time on my hair and make up!,”

Noah sat you down on the edge of the fountain, removing your shoes for you

“You know that you don’t need your makeup and hair all done up for me to find you absolutely breathtaking… right?,”

He gives you no time to reply before he’s standing you up and bringing you into the fountain, twirling you around under the raining streams.

“Noah we’re gonna get in trouble!!,” squealing in his arms, trying to get out of them. He sets you down but before you can scold him, his wet hands are framing your face to pull you in for the long awaited kiss that he’s been wanting to give you since the day you left.

You felt like you were in a movie. The hopeless romantic that lived within you was thriving. You were stuck in your spot for a second, realizing that since starting over, this is your first kiss and he made it so damn romantic. Pulling him in by his shirt, your lips follow his, flowing with the same desire and unspoken words.

I’m sorry.

I forgive you.

We’re going to be okay.

I don’t hate you

I love you.

I always will.

Damning your own instinctive need to breathe, you pull away from him, pressing your fingertips to your lips, still completely shocked by it all.

“I’m sorry I just… I couldn’t fight it anymore,” he looked so ethereal, wet hair sticking to his face, droplets on his cheeks and big, brown eyes staring back at you with blown pupils.

“Until the day we are returned to dust to the universe, I will love you and cherish you. I will be what I should have always been. And even then… even after we are just dust- I will find you in another timeline and continue to be that and more”

Life is a beautiful thing now. It was no longer grey and neither of you felt like you were just getting by, you were finally living.

You didn’t want to give up your cabin, so despite all the memories the house back in the city had, you two decided to make more memories out here.

Your house was full now, filled with friends you missed dearly, all of them soaking up time with Noelle, getting used to being uncles.

“Nuh uh!,” Noah shouts, “Folio, wash your hands before holding her,”

“What the hell! I just did!!,” he defended, arms halfway out, ready to reach for his niece.

“Not long enough! Sing happy birthday twice if you have to- and don’t swear around my daughter!,”

Noah fit the dad role real well. He was proud to be the father of your child. He doted on Noelle, always took pictures with her, sang to her (a lot better than you ever did) and though Noah had a love for the city, he loved being out here with you two, taking her on daily walks around the countryside while you tended to the chickens and garden.

You thought he’d put up a bigger fight due to his career but- things were simple out here and being out here made him feel normal and domestic. This is what life was always supposed to feel like and it’s what the two of you had always envisioned.

“Everyone get ready, dinner’s almost finished!,” Ms. Ernie hollered. She loved the guys, it didn't take long for her to warm up to people and just like she took you under her wing, she did the same for them. She even listens to their music now, she says Hedonist is her favorite.

Folio doesn’t care to make his plate now that he has Noelle, making her squeal and laugh at his silly faces.

Matt bumps you as he moves past you to get a drink out of your fridge, “I told you he wouldn’t take her from you,”

“You only get one ‘I told you so’ in our friendship and you used it well. Thanks, Matty,”

During the time you and Noah were reconnecting, you had to rebuild your friendships with the guys as well. You and Matt now have your farmer’s market dates back. You, Jolly, Davis and Folio have your bowling on Thursday nights while you and Bryan go to the movies every Tuesday because they’re half off. And Nicholas- the one who truly is like a brother, both of you had your chess game that you abandoned but he kept the board set in hopes that one day you’ll come back.

He taught you how to play ages ago and when you finally got the hang of it, you two matched all the time, some matches going for days, this match being the longest ever due to a hiatus.

He had the board with him, setting it up on the counter, both of you moving your pieces throughout the day.

“I know how to beat you,” staring at the board, he comes to stand beside you.

“Yeah?,” grinning as if he wasn’t about to lose.

“You have nowhere to go, Nicky,” you pick your Queen up, moving her to h5, threatening his f7. You watch him frown at your movements and you have to hide the smirk on your face. If you win, you’ll no longer be tied.

You move your Queen to take his f7 and you check his king.

“No!,”

“Checkmate!,” clapping in victory, you jump up and down, “I still got it!!,”

“You got lucky!,”

Despite him losing, he was always a good sport. He did teach you after all.

After dinner, Reid provided dessert, topped with a delicious honey glaze he made from his bees. Matt started a fire pit outside which left only you, Noah and Noelle in the kitchen as you two arranged to put her down for bed. He had her wrapped up against his chest while you prepared his coffee and your tea.

Noelle cooed against his chest, eyes fluttering and trying to fight sleep.

“I love you,” he searched your face, feeling blessed that he can say the words to you again. Your eyes sparkle in the warm light of the kitchen, feeling blessed to hear those words once again. You’ll never get tired of hearing it, especially because it’s all different now. It’s healthier, happier.

“And I love you,” of course you do- it was muscle memory.

After lightly clinking your mugs together, your eyes catch sight of the fruit bowl you and Noah made in your pottery class. Your painted hand print on one side, his on the other and Noelle’s in the middle with 4 simple words written across it.

You are my Sunshine.

Stepping closer to him, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, the two of you stood in silence just enjoying each other’s presence. Finding joy in the laughter of your loved ones outside.

All is well and always will be. Ms. Ernie was right. Sometimes second chances are worth it.

“Thanks for adding to the sunshine instead of taking it away,”

Noah could hear the relief in your voice that things turned out for the better. He’d never give this up. Home isn’t a place, home is this moment right here and every moment after.

“Until we are dust returned to the universe.”

First and foremost i wanted to thank everyone for their patience while i worked on this!! this story means so much to me and i am grateful for the love i received on part one and hope you all enjoy this part even if it’s a little long!!!

Please be sure to reblog and comment as it helps us writers out a lot!!!

much love!

~Berry 🫐

tags: @dravenskye @babs-96 @tech-depression-inventory @magnificentstrawberryomen @mrscevans @tinyfairies @mxddymay @themorticians-world @rainy-darling @lma1986 @darknightstarryeyes @thisbicc @lilhobgobbler @lovethe-void @cind6547 @flowery-mess @widowsofchaos @abiomens @amelia-acero @collapsedglasshouses @poppy-in-the-woods @rostoken @dkxxm @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingintothegrey @blairboo

#noah sebastian one shot #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian imagine #noah sebastian angst #bad omens one shot #bad omens angst #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #bad omens imagine

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angel-eyes05 · 1 year

Text

to leave the warmest bed i've ever known (part 4)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

pairing: spider-woman!reader x miguel o’hara

summary: so much time has passed since you last saw each other. will old feelings come up again once you two find each other again?

warnings: HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, this is so against canon its insane, NSFW (we did it guys we're finally here), switch!reader and switch!miguel, blood mention, fang and claws play, p in v unprotected, cumplay, angsty (i couldnt help it), it goes, angst, smut, and then angsty fluff at the end youre welcome

word count: 3.2k

notes: for some reason, it didn't let me tag as many people who wanted to be on the taglist, so if i didn't end up tagging you for the final part, sorry idk what went wrong

also forgive me i was listening to boygenius while writing the parts leading up to the smut so it might get a little angsty there (i cant help it) (miguel and y/n are so bite the hand and cool about it core)

but then i balanced it out by listening to frank ocean (pyramids specifically) while writing the smut so you're welcome

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Three years had passed. Three years since you finally found Miles, defeated The Spot, and caused the collapse of the Spider Society. Everyone had gone back to their separate dimensions, but were able to still visit each other with their still working portal watches. Miles and Gwen specifically were very happy. Peter B. went back home to live with MJ and Mayday, sending you frequent pictures of Mayday to keep you updates. You were different. You didn’t return to your home world. You didn’t necessarily have anyone to return to per se. Instead, you decided to hop between dimensions, seeing what crime there was to fight in cities that didn’t have anyone to protect it. It was enough to keep you occupied, and as long as your watch still worked, you had the option to stop if you wanted to. Life was nice. You finally had found peace.

But something felt off. Something thudding in the back of your head. Because even though you had been at peace for three years, it had also been three years since you saw him. You had seen him during the final showdown between all of Spider Society, but your team had managed to keep you two apart, due to fear for your safety. After the fight was over, you two had made eye contact with each other a couple of times, but never approached each other. If you were being honest, you were still scared of him at that point, even seeing him tied up there on the floor waiting for someone to deal with him.

It took a while for your gashes to heal, the ones on your back taking much longer to turn into scars than the ones on your tricep and thigh. The marks on your body were frequent reminders of him and the damage he’s caused to your life. Part of you hated him for it. But most of you just missed him. Unlike Jess, who sent you pictures of her baby every now and then, neither of you had reached out to the other. It was crazy how five years of shared history can be thrown to the ground so quickly.

Right now, you were sitting on the railing of your apartment balcony. For the past month or so, you decided to park it in Earth-3819. There wasn’t much crime going on there, so it was a nice place to stop when you needed a break. Your feet dangled off the edge of the railing, as you looked out to see the sunset on the skyline. The wind blew faintly at your face, causing strands of hair to fall out of your high bun. You had been thinking more about him recently, wondering if he was feeling the same way you were.

Almost as if you manifested it, you heard the sliding glass door from your bedroom slide open. Startled, you quickly turned around, ready just in case it was an attacker.

It was much worse than an attacker.

You mouth laid agape as his massive shadow covered your smaller body. Feelings that laid dormant for the past three years suddenly erupting in your stomach. You looked up to the roof of your building as a signal to meet you up there, as you attached a web to the top and swung up there.

Once you were both at the top, you faced your back to him to take time to catch your breath. Your emotions were all over the place right now. “You’re really hard to find, you know,” he said trying to break the silence. You wanted to throw up. As much as you hoped this moment would come, you never realized how unprepared you would be if it ever did. You couldn’t bare to look at him right now, knowing you would lose control of yourself if you did. “You look…good.” How would he know, he only saw your face for a second before you bolted off. You both stood there, the wind growing louder and louder with each second you both stayed silent.

All of your senses came to a freeze once you felt his hand place itself on your shoulder, causing a flinch from you. “I wanted to find you again, mi vida,” he said in that rich, deep, smooth tone of his that drives you crazy. You could tell he was getting closer when you felt the hairs on your neck stand up from him breathing on them. “I missed you, and I was hoping we could pick up where we left off,” he said into the crook of your neck and began to plant kisses there. You broke free from his grasp by the third kiss he left. “No no no no no, no we can’t. It’s not that simple Miguel,” you said, pinching your bridge and sighing. There's no way he could've thought it would be this easy. He's not this stupid….is he?

“Listen amor, I’m sorry for everything that happened. But the past is the past.” He walked closer to you. “And I want my future with you.” He was up against you again. This time instead of your shoulder, he dragged his finger up and down your back in an almost hypnotic motion. God, you wanted him so bad, you wanted it to be this simple. That he can just apologize and everything could be okay. But you were reminded it couldn't be that way once his finger hit a pressure point in your scar. You swatted your hands in the air and walked away from him again. “No Miguel, that's not how this works. You can just do the things you've done to me and just say sorry and expect it to fix everything. You're not a child.”

Once you turned around to face him, you saw him standing there like a lost puppy. You just wish he could see what you were talking about. “Don't act like you didn't do horrible things then too. I saw what you did to Jess.” “Don't turn this onto me Miguel. This is about you.” You walked up to him and pressed your finger into his chest. “This is about you, and the horrible things you've done to me! I can't even take a shower anymore without looking at myself in the mirror and seeing your damage!” You lifted up your shirt sleeve. “You did this! This was all you!” Miguel looks down at you with sympathetic eyes as your eyes began to well up.

“And you can’t just barge in on this life I’ve made for myself and ask for me back because I won't go with you!” You were fully crying at this point, desperately trying to get your words out between sobs and lightly punching at Miguel's chest while he just stared at you. “Because I hate you Miguel! I hate you, okay!” You couldn't manage to talk anymore, overcome with the emotions he caused you to feel. You rested your head on his chest as you continued to sob. He wrapped his arms around you, causing you to do the same to him immediately. You sat there crying into his arms for about a minute, until he lifted up your chin with his finger.

“I’m so sorry I did this to you mi princesa. I’m so sorry. But I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.” Overtaken by emotion, you grab his face and crash your lips into his. Almost instinctively, his hands find a home onto your hips. You pull away for a second. “Just stop talking already,” you say breathlessly. He rushes to connect the two of your lips again, already going as far as to slip his tongue in between your lips. He’s so passionate about everything he does. His hands hold a tight grip on your body as his tongue explores your mouth. Almost like he’s hungry for you. No, not hungry. Starving. Famished. Three years apart was too much for him to stand without you by his side or in his bed. He needed you desperately. Like his life depended on if he was going to be able to fuck you into your bed tonight or not.

He let out moans as your hands ran through and tugged on his hair. But as soon as his claws came out and dug into your hips, you pulled your mouth off of his, a string of saliva still connecting you two. “No claws Miguel. Bring them out again, and its over okay.” You still weren’t mentally over his attack against you. He nods. “Of course, baby.” With that said, you let go of him to walk over to the edge of the building. Once your at the edge, you signal him over. He follows, almost as if he’s under some spell. You attach one of your webs to your balcony railing below and use it as a guide to fall down to it. You land on your balcony, Miguel following close behind as you open the sliding door to your bedroom.

After you close the door and blinds, you turn to find Miguel almost hovering over you. He looked like some kind of lost dog the way he kept following you around, begging for more of you. You gently kiss him and guide him over to your bed. He sits down on the edge of the bed and begins to pull your hoodie off your head as you help him take off his suit. Once your sweatpants are off as well, you gently push him onto his back on your bed. Goosebumps form all over your body, partially from exposure to the cold air in your room, and partially from seeing him like this underneath you again. Finally, you take his already hard cock, and slide it into your hole, causing a rough groan out of him as you begin to rock on his hips.

You take things nice and slow while you’re in control, knowing the moment you get sloppy he’ll start to take over for you. You kissed down his neck and collarbone as you rode him, with him gripping hard at your back and your hips. “Nng, m-missed you s-so much amor,” he groaned out. “Tan hermosa.” You begin to speed your thrusting, tugging at his hair to get strained noises out of him. His hands make their way up to your back, digging into your skin. But your quick to rip his hands out of your back and pin them above his head once his talons come out again, into your back this time. You also take your lips off of his and stop your thrusting.

Miguel searched your face for some kind of explanation to the sudden stop, to find you panting and nearly frozen still. You’re taken back to that fight, a result from his claws finding a way into your scars. You’re pulled back to reality by Miguel’s voice. “Amor, que paso?” he asks with concern. You quickly wipe the sweat off your face and look into his beautiful crimson eyes. You wanted to forget the pain he caused you all those years ago, but unfortunately you couldn’t. But, you were willing to forgive him though. “Nothing Miggy,” you say gently, pressing a soft kiss onto his lips. He tries to move his hands back onto you, but finds his hands still trapped to the headboard. He looks at you confused. “What did I say about the claws, Miguel.”

“Ay, baby you know its hard for me to control them around you,” he says, slightly annoyed, driven by the need to touch you again. “Well you’re going to need to try to okay? For now though, you’re going to stay like this.” His face drops, and he makes a sound almost like a whine. “Ay coño, lo siento péro you don’t need to punish me.” You felt powerful hearing him whine and beg like this. You were denying a starving man of his woman, his source of energy.

Arms squirmed in your hand, as you began to rock on top of him again. You made sure to not kiss him either, moving away whenever he would try to place his mouth onto yours. He whined as you picked up your speed, desperate to feel you again. “P-please, let me go cariño.” You moved your mouth down and whispered in his ear, running your finger up and down his stomach, causing him to melt under you and whimper like a madman. “Not just yet,” you whispered seductively, sending extra chills down his spine and into his stomach when you bit into his ear lobe.

Overcome with your own urge to feel him, you accidentally let go of his hands and moved yours to grab hold of each of his pecs as you planted kisses over his sternum. Suddenly, you’re overswept as Miguel is freed and takes control over the situation. “I love you amor, but you have to let me touch your,” he says in that beautiful, rich tone of his before he goes at his own pace: slamming himself into you.

He goes much faster than you did, and you almost come there on the spot as he nearly breaks your bed with his ferocity. You grip onto his enormous triceps for leverage as you let out a series of incoherent moans. “You like that, huh?” he pants out. You shove your lips onto his to get him to stop talking. “I-if you’re gonna do this, n-ngh, you’re gonna have to s-hh-ut up,” you manage to get out in between your almost inhumane sounds. He nods and shoves his tongue into your mouth, exploring the insides of your cheeks while his tip slams into your walls, causing that white heat to begin to build up in your stomach.

His hands swarm across your body, making up for lost time before, and eventually land on your breasts as he begins to palm at them. Just as you thought he couldn’t arouse you any more than he already has, he moves his mouth along your jawline, down to your neck, and begins to mark it with kisses and slight sucking. “I-I missed you too, Miggy.”

That nickname you had for him drove him crazy. So crazy in fact, his next move was to drive his fangs into your neck, making sure to not let his poison seep into your neck. He presses his lips and sucks on the skin on your neck while sinking his fangs deeper into you. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, as you held onto his broad shoulders while he basically slammed you into the bed. “Oh Miguel,” you moaned out. He nodded, not able to speak, due to his fangs still being attached to your neck. You could tell he was getting close too with how sloppy his pace was getting.

You’re washed over with bliss when the heat in your stomach finally takes over the rest of your body, almost clawing at Miguel while you come. His hands put more pressure on your breasts as he comes as well, moaning into the softness of your neck. Once you two have both finished, he slowly pulls his teeth out of your neck, and licks up the metallic liquid with his warm, delicate tongue. He slowly pulls his cock out of the sweetness of your cunt and rolls over to lay next to you on the bed, dragging his fingers across your pussy, taking the cum his fingers picked up and putting it in his mouth.

He plants a kiss onto your forehead before saying, “One second, princesa, I’ll be right back,” as he got up to go to the bathroom. He must have been in there for about 10 minutes before coming back into your room and reaching out his hand for yours. You take his hand as he leads you out of bed, reminded of how naked you are when you reveal yourself from the sheets.

He leads you into the bathroom to see that hes drawn a bath for the two of you. You blush slightly at the gesture, as he gets in first and leads you in. The touch of the water numbs your body slightly with the mixture of the cold room to the hot bath water. You almost melt as you sink in, laying your back against Miguel’s chest as he wraps his arms around your body. You could fall asleep right here, mixed between the comfort of the bath water, and Miguel’s body finally against yours again. The bathtub was kind of small, so his body was taking up most of the space, causing him to basically engulf you.

You were surrounded in him, his lips almost attached to the nape of your nack, his arms consuming your upper half, and his legs intwining with your lower half. He wiggles slightly to reach the soap, puts it in the water to wet it, and lathers it onto your body. First, he washes your arms, rubbing the soap back and forth over your arm hairs, and even under your armpits. Next, he moves to wash your chest. He takes the soap and moves it over your breasts and your underboob, causing you to move in closer to him. His response is to peck kisses into the crook of your neck, getting little giggles out of you. You stop giggling though after he stops kissing you and stays still for a second.

You wait in silence for him to do something. “...Miggy…you okay?” you ask when he doesn’t say anything. You turn your head slightly to see him. Out of your peripherals, you see him staring solemnly at your back. He’s finally seen them. The four almost perfectly placed scars warping across your back. They were huge. And he knows they’re from him. You turned your head back to the front and dug it in between your knees, pushing out your back even more. Miguel delicately traced his fingers over them, as you waited curled up for him to say something. “I’m sorry,” is all he can manage to weakly push out.

You decide to turn your body around to face him, splashing water around in the cramped bathtub while doing so. His eyes are down with sadness creeping over his face. You cup his cheek with your hand and press a loving, gentle kiss onto his lips. You bring his arms over your shoulders and wrap your legs around his hips. You wanted to be engulfed by him. You were so pressed on staying mad at him for so many years that you forgot how much you loved being this close to him. You could hear his heart softly beating as you pressed your head against his chest. He soon wrapped his arms around your body, taking you into him, and dug his head into the crook of your neck, almost as if he was hiding.

You stayed there for a moment before eventually turning back around. You laid your head in a position so you could still see his face if you looked up. You could feel yourself slowly dozing off in his arms. Your last thoughts before you slipped out of consciousness was of how perfect this was.

You had found your home again. Moreso, he found his way to you. And this time, you were never going to let go.

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

a/n: i just wanted to say thank you to everyone for sticking around during this series. i know it wasn't meant to be 4 parts and only 2 so i really appreciate everyone who stuck around for the whole thing. make sure to look out for my next thing cause i wanna start writing an enemies to lover oc x miguel thing so please go and support that once thats out. thanks guys!!!!

taglist: @jenniferdixon05207 @sweetanimebakery @azxulaa @daimiyu @vinkar345 @pinkninja200 @luvstich @rin-matsuoka345-blog @lillunna @konniebon @hwanunjin @simp-nerd-16 @chucklefuvk @elwyn7 @haileybxxr @ilovemymomscooking @lansy-4 @maxi-ride @d4rno @callsign-blue @obamnas-soda @sophipet @violentlyneon @d1lf-loverrr @afro-hispwriter @kirke-is-my-name @ilovemiguelohara @lavnderluv @konniebon @msecho19 @kiamewrites

#fanfic #fanfiction #fem!reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse

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kalimarinus · 5 months

Text

offerings from the unnamed.

[ summary : a mystery person is leaving gifts for 141? ]

[ relationships : tf141 x gn!reader (platonic) ]

[ warnings : 3rd person & 2nd-ish pov , gn reader 🤍 , use of y/n (your name) & c/n (codename/callsign) , unedited & not proofread , i know nothing about the military once again ]

[ word count : 2,392 ]

[ notes : back after another long while , yeah!!! this was fun <3 i can't believe this is 2k words what ?!@?!>@/ that's longer than my previous fic & this was just like a spitball idk..., also the 141 might just have memory loss why is everyone forgetting everything!! (y'all idk why i got so into it w gaz and price's section like why is it so long and soap and ghost's are so short???. but more the merrier, right...?) ]

John Price:

he was pretty surprised at first, he did not expect to see a bouquet of roses on his desk. though, he doesn't question it?

—until he walks up closer to examine the flowers, just to see a little tag with a note on it that reads: 'for my favorite captain. -a/n.'

now he's a little confused. could it be one of his sergeants? his lieutenant? hell, it could be so many other people.

the only hint is the handwriting. he swears he can recognize it.

but suddenly price reminds himself he actually has work, so never mind the flowers, for now, he needs to get back to doing his paperwork and such.

as he works away and whatnot, the thought of the roses is lingering in the back of his mind and slowly creeping up to the front, and he can't seem to ignore the questions.

"why roses?" "whose handwriting is that? i swear i know it." "for me? why not anybody else?"

he's utterly perplexed at this point, so he quickly finishes up whatever he needs to do and turns to the bouquet he left sitting on the other side of the desk long ago.

after many, many minutes of just trying to grasp the mysterious person whose handwriting looks the same as on the tag, he gives up.

gives up on trying to figure out this anonymous roses bullshit by himself, anyway. the captain goes to his two closest buddies, unsurprisingly nikolai and laswell.

he questions them, he tells them everything. to the point he walked through the door and saw the bouquet and to the point where he was now asking them for 'help'. but it just ends up being just a lot more questions and inevitably no answers.

he goes to his lieutenant. his two sergeants. nothing.

now he gives up fully. nobody knows anything about this or who it might be. not him, his best friends, or his own task force.

time passes quickly until it's the end of the day (and he's surprised he's almost spent hours trying to figure this puzzling gift out), and he's trying to come to terms with this.

'it's intended to be anonymous, he shouldn't be trying to figure this out, and he shouldn't lose sleep over this.' is what he tells himself when he gets back to his barracks.

he looks down at the mysterious bouquet in his hand that never had left him alone since he'd come across it, like a fungus that had grown on a damp and and won't let go, and he lets out a sigh.

but john supposes he doesn't mind keeping it. if it really is someone he's friends with (which he's sure), he shouldn't just throw it away. he'll keep it.

which is what he does. preparing and cleaning a random glass jar big enough to fit the flowers, found somewhere around his barracks. it's now put to better use instead of just collecting dust, now filled up with water, the stems of the roses inside.

he sets it on the nightstand next to his bed, and for some reason the room feels a little more homey. oh and don't forget the tag, which he sets next to the jar of blossoms, just in case he does remember who's handwriting that is, he'll be 100% sure who it is and won't be doubting himself if he checks it.

he has come to terms with it now. he's comfortable in bed and he won't be asking himself or anyone else questions that'll lead to nothing. he's sure the one who gave him the bouquet will reveal themselves soon enough. like he told himself, 'he won't lose sleep over this.'

and he is about to drift off into sleep— until suddenly he remembers, and he jolts, sitting up.

he turns his head to look at the roses as his brain is overwhelmed with inquiry. price knows who it is. it's c/n. it's y/n. and now he just has more questions, some the same as previous ones but with the added confusion that it's you that got the flowers for him.

he is going to lose sleep over this after all.

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish:

when soap first heard about the captain's situation, he thought it was hilarious. he got roses from an unknown individual? that's silly. he almost even started laughing seeing price so frustrated and baffled over a bouquet of plants.

though, after he said he didn't know anything about any flowers and price walked away in disappointment to go question his other sergeant, perhaps he was a little jealous. don't look at him like that. what's so wrong about maybe wanting a secret admirer?

unbeknownst to him, he would get a gift of his own in no time. when he got to the mess hall, he immediately spotted a box of something right on his table. he quickly went to the seat he always sits at, because of course he has a specific place to eat every day— and he hopes it isn't too obvious to the other soldiers nearby that he's resisting the urge to dash over and admire the supposed present.

when he finally gets to see the gift up close, he practically has stars in his eyes. the note on top of the box catches his eyes first before anything, a simple sentence of 'heard you had a sweet tooth.' typed on the printed out paper.

he has to resist a giddy grin creeping onto his face as he carefully slides the note aside, looking at the box of assorted chocolates in front of him. ultimately, he breaks, and a smile is instantly plastered on his face, already taking one of the sweets and plopping it into his mouth, humming contentedly.

he has the urge to dig into all of them because the candy is remarkably delicious and has his body tingling with dopamine, but fights it and chooses on savoring the gift, taking time to relish in each pieces' flavor.

he enjoys the way the first layers of chocolate slowly melts on his tongue and the taste of the equally chocolate-y syrup inside hits him like a freight train— it makes him appreciate the person who gave him this even more so.

don't worry though, johnny isn't too greedy. he saves the other half of the box for later.

eventually, he does lift his glued-on gaze from the gift to around the mess hall. though, he's met with the other soldiers giving him weird looks. and it does look kind of odd to be fair. a grown man, another soldier, in the mess hall eating a randomly fancy box of chocolates by himself.

despite the little awkward situation and the slightly unpleasant, silent walk out of the mess hall with the box in hand, you know he's walking around with a broad grin on his face for probably the next few days.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick:

to him, the similar occurrence between his captain and sergeant friend was strange. he'd heard identical stories from both of them now— the same concept of a mysterious offering given to them by a mysterious person.

he was wondering if the lieutenant got one too, and just hadn't told anyone. he was also questioning if he would get one as well. was this individual giving gifts to everyone in the task force?

well, he'd find out soon enough. the answer is most definitely yes.

he'd been dragged away by soap just right after a briefing, into a mostly empty hallway. and after a measly, short conversation and or slight argument about why gaz had been dragged here in the first place, and also why soap looked like he was holding in a giggle fit, the latter pulled out a box from his pocket. so he is getting a gift as well— same note and everything.

soap explains that he'd been requested by this 'anonymous person' to deliver him one as well, like a damn messenger pigeon.

so gaz takes the container carefully in hand before soap snickers and scurries away to do whatever.

he's pretty interested in what's inside as he properly takes a look at it. the box is flatter than your average box, black and sleek with of course, a small, yellow sticky note taped on top. 'this is one of our favourite memories. -unknown.'

he glances around the empty hallway for a moment, feeling a bit weird standing in a quiet hallway, opening a present by himself, alone. but nevermind that— he opens it, and kyle is met with.. a necklace. a silver necklace with a heart locket attached to the bottom.

he moderately cocks his head at the sight of the locket, then picks the necklace up with his right hand, the box still resting on the surface of the other. he opens the heart and squints, a mini photograph of himself and.. another recruit, wearing a mask, so he couldn't see their face. his hand was slung over their shoulder and they were doing the same to his, and despite them covering their face, he could still see a small smile on their face and his own.

he can remember this. he thinks he knows this. it was a group photo of the whole task force. there's the other soldiers in this photo too, but the photo is cropped in a way that you can only see him and the other comrade.

but he doesn't seem to.. remember who he was next to? something in his memory is bugged, like when you forget that one word but you also somewhat remember at the same time, or you forget what you were going to say while having a conversation with somebody.

it almost makes him as frustrated as price when he got his gift, but he wants to push those other emotions aside and just focus on the gratefulness he feels. to be honest he adores the necklace. he's sure he would think it suits him if he wore it and looked in the mirror.

and the picture.. he's still thinking about it. still looking at it. he finds the memory charming and sweet, even if he can't remember this soldier properly. he likes the way he can still see both of the happiness and smile in their eyes despite how tiny the image is. he likes the way he can see the shine and colour in their eyes in the dim light where the photo was taken.

the more he admires the jewelry the more he falls in love with it. the more he wants to cherish it and the mysterious fella who has gifted it to him.

after a lot of staring, and smiling at the present in hand, he finally closes the locket and slips the necklace on, briefly feeling the cold silver around his neck before it turns warm from his body heat.

and then he just walks off casually just like soap, who's probably waiting around the corner to ask "what'd you get?"

he now holds the box close to his chest as if he might keep that too, nearing the end of the hallway.

kyle's mind goes to the photo again, and his brain starts whirring with the thoughts of who it is.

but he's sure he'll remember later. he'll know who the person is soon enough, maybe if he sees them walking through the halls with that same mask. but either way, he knows he'll remember, and he'll thank them for this gift.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley:

now, he already knew he was going to get a gift as well, seeing as everyone in the task force but him has gotten at least something. he's heard price's predicament, johnny entering a briefing a little too happily with small bits of chocolate syrup near his lips, and kyle proudly walking around base wearing a necklace.

but he has some assumptions that the person didn't get anything for him. he's.. well, simon 'ghost' riley, after all. spooky, intimidating to most, tall dude.

but it seems his assumptions were incorrect, because he came back to his barracks after somewhat of a rough mission just to notice a a small, dark box oddly left on top of one of the shelves near his bed.

after easily retrieving the container, he examines it— and there's the typical 'note' from them, a few words written on top of the lid with a white marker. it reads, 'saw this and it reminded me of you. from a soldier friend of yours.'

.. but what if this 'soldier friend' has actually left a bomb inside of this? will it explode right now? a spy camera? is anybody watching?

you can't blame him for the skepticism. a strange box randomly appearing on one of your shelves? you would be hesitant to open it too.

after a few shakes he gives to the box to hear if anything suspicious is inside, he decides that it isn't a miniscule explosive or a secret camera or any other funky gadget.

simon opens it, and one of his eyebrows raises as an automatic response. a bracelet? specifically, a bracelet made of small, shiny, white pearls with a single flower charm.

but he's not ungrateful or doesn't like it, per se, he's just.. confused. as everyone else was.

confused that somebody thought to get him a gift. bought something for him that he never asked for or mentioned or even thought of himself.

it's not what he was expecting at all. a bracelet. really? for him? but why? he stands in that spot for a good minute, trying to make sense of this. but he's also trying to tell himself he doesn't care about this.

but there's a little creature in his heart or in his brain or something whispering to him that he actually kind of likes it.

he won't admit any of this— but he does end up keeping it, box and all. and he does like the gorgeous glossiness of the pearls and the intricate details and carvings of the charm.

he likes the way it feels on his wrist when he slides it on. it has a nice, cool feeling, but not cold enough for it to be uncomfortable. like the way a cold pillow feels nice against your head.

and from that day forward, if you look closely enough, you can always see a glimpse of a shiny piece of jewelry peeking through the bottom of ghost's sleeve.

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zepskies · 11 months

Note

OMG I KEED A PART 2 TO SAM HAVING A CRUSH ON DEANS GF

Like idk maybe say Sam didn't listen to Dean and tried making a move on reader? Like ofc he wouldn't ever do that *I don't think* but in this hypothetical scenerio it happens

Hey hun!

Oooof, that's hard. You guys really like this angsty love triangle stuff, huh? 😂 I genuinely think Sam would rather saw off his own hand than hurt Dean that way. But this is like, the only thing I could think of on this one. 😅

See this imagine for context: You are Dean's one exception.

Pairing: Dean W. x Reader, one-sided Sam W. x Reader Word Count: 1,100

Imagine: Sam crosses the line.

Goddamn witches.

That's the last coherent thought Sam has, before his mind is no longer completely his to control.

Well, it's still his mind. His body. But the careful door in his mind and in his heart, reinforced with steel and chained shut with titanium, combo-coded, locked and loaded, now has broken hinges.

Thoughts he hasn't allowed himself to think for months are pried open, with a sick kind of enjoyment in pain.

You're his brother's girl. Sam can't help but love you. He wants you. And now, he might be able to have you.

The witch is dead, but the spell she just hit Sam with remains. He's not dead, so that's a plus.

"Are you okay?" you ask him, slightly breathless. You're the closest to where he's sprawled on the ground, so you go to him. You touch his arm, and he can't help but clamp down on your hand. He looks at you with the thinly veiled eyes of a hunter as he smiles. Because your concern reaches the deepest parts of him.

"I'm fine," he says.

But Dean reads the hunger in his brother's eyes. He's subtle in the way he grasps your shoulder and Sam's (noticeably tighter).

"But what happened? How do you feel?" you ask, trying to take stock of what you're all dealing with here.

"I uh...feel fine, actually," Sam says. He rolls his shoulders. His gaze focuses on you. Dean holds him back from getting off the ground.

"Get the book. See if there's a way to fix this," Dean tells you without taking his eyes off Sam.

Sam tilts his head at Dean, the beginning of an angry frown on his lip as you rush away to find the witch's spell book.

"What's the matter, Dean?" Sam asks. He doesn't bother to lower his voice. (He literally doesn't have a filter anymore.) "Afraid of what might happen when she actually has the chance to choose?"

Dean's lips purse as his eyes darken. "This isn't you. And when you wake up from this, you're either gonna hate yourself for even thinkin' what you're thinkin', or you're gonna have one hell of a headache."

Sam stares back incredulously. He scoffs. "What're you gonna do, kill me?" They both know that's not happening.

But that's also when Dean knocks him the hell out.

When Sam wakes, it's to you stuffing tissues in his bloody nose. He groans a bit. He looks at you and still wants. But when he looks down at himself, he's in the bunker, handcuffed to the war room table.

You look worried for him as you go back to your side of the table with the book. Dean is oddly nowhere in sight. Sam thought he'd be watching you (and Sam) like a hawk.

"Dean'll be back in a sec. He's trying to get ahold of Rowena," you supply. "But how're you feeling? What's the spell doing to you exactly?"

Sam rolls the kinks out of his neck and removes the tissues, even though his entire face radiates with pain. His brother once promised to break his nose, and he did just that.

"Basically? I think it took away my inhibitions," he replies. More like threw them in a blender and put his deepest, headiest desires into overdrive.

You frown. "Like a really bad bender, or a truth serum kind of thing? But why would he punch you out for that?"

Your gears are turning rapidly, weighing out all the options. You always were smart. Sam leans forward slowly. Noting your thread of wariness, his face softens. He doesn't want to scare you...

He sighs. "Listen...there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while now."

He reaches out a hand. You're looking at him in frozen surprise. His curled fingers brush your cheek. He leans in toward your face.

But you flinch and pull away.

"What the hell are you doing?" you ask.

Sam should've known, but it still hurts him. His jaw clenches. The spell takes away his self-preservation, however.

Just as he might've tried with words to finally confess the depths of his heart, the door creaks open.

The sound of Dean's heavy boots approaching makes him flinch. But Sam looks over with an unrepentant stare.

Dean glances at Rowena, nostrils flaring. "Fix him." He gestures at Sam before he joins you on your side of the table, resting a protective hand on your back.

Rowena shoots him a droll look. "Only because you asked so nicely."

"I don't need fixing!" Sam argues, glaring at Dean. His voice echoes on the bunker's walls. "You're just afraid of what happens if she knows the truth!"

Your eyes widen further. You look from Sam, to your boyfriend. Dean's jaw is clenched tight.

"Okay, what the fuck is going on?!" you ask in earnest. Dean meets your gaze for a moment, his face tense. His reluctant eyes communicate to you things you never knew. Things that clog emotion in your throat. Dean turns back to Sam.

"Don't do this, Sammy. It don't end well for you," Dean says.

"Like hell," Sam retorts.

"Okay, sleep now, dear," Rowena says. And with a wave of her hand and a haze of violet, Sam's world once again blackens.

When he next wakes, he's in his own bed. Not restrained. He indeed has a massive headache, and it's hard to breathe through his still broken nose. He groans and turns, and his brother is there.

When the overwhelming guilt sets in, Sam knows he's himself again, with all the careful walls around his heart put back in place. Rowena must've broken the spell when he was unconscious. Dean can see the truth in Sam's eyes.

"There he is," Dean remarks dryly. "Our giant Jekyll and Hyde."

Sam inhales deeply. "Dean..." I'm sorry doesn't quite cut it.

"She knows," Dean says, after a moment. "Obviously."

Sam nods, swallowing past a lump in his throat. He hesitates to ask the next burning question, because part of him knows the answer.

"It doesn't change anything."

Sam's head turns at the sound of your voice. You stand in the doorway, with your arms crossed despite the disheartened look on your face. Your eyes meet his, steady and sad, but firm.

"I know," Sam says, with a small, self-deprecating smile. "I'm sorry...for all this."

"It's not your fault," you reply. Spell or no spell, the way he feels is not his fault.

You step into the bedroom and go to Sam's bedside, laying a hand on Dean's shoulder. That hand smoothes up his neck, and your fingers briefly thread into his hair. Another silent conversation passes between you and Dean, the way only lovers that close can accomplish.

After a beat, Dean nods and gets up out of his chair. He thumbs at your cheek; it's both an answer to your unspoken request and an endearment. Then he pats Sam's shoulder before he leaves you and Sam alone in the room.

Trust. That's what that is. Dean trusts you, and now that the spell has worn off, he trusts Sam again.

Sam meets your gaze. As awful as he feels, he still loves you. He knows you know by the way your gaze meets his.

All he wants to do is touch you.

To apologize, and to touch you.

He hates himself.

You shake your head. "I love you, Sam. As my friend. My brother."

"I know," he nods. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry," you reply. "You just have to respect that."

"'Course, I do," Sam nods again. You would've never known, if not for the damn spell.

You surprise him by taking his hand. Yours is soft and warm and kind.

Always kind...

But never truly his to hold.

AN: GAH! The Angst. You could bottle it. 😩

Want to know what that conversation was like between Dean and the reader after she "found out?"

Read It Here: You and Dean talk about Sam's feelings.

Dean Winchester Imagines

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Dean W. Tag List:

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

#ask me stuff #dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #Sam crosses the line #being deans one exception sequel #sam in love with deans girlfriend #sam winchester #sam winchester imagine #sam and dean #angst #unrequited love #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #spn #supernatural #zepskies answers

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withleeknow · 7 months

Text

wishful thinking. (04)

chapter four: spring daffodils

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; a creepy dude but nothing happens, err this chapter is pretty mild? idk, not very edited (i apologize, i just live like this lol) word count: 3.5k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / series masterpost / taglist

It was bittersweet You were like a dream And I was your girl on the passenger seat Right next to you We were unstoppable We thought we had it all

I’d Do It Again - Violette Wautier

The first thing you feel when you wake up is Minho’s arms, wrapped tightly around you. Your face in the crook of his neck, your legs tangled up together. It’s as though this is your millionth morning waking up with him.

He’s still fast asleep, soft puffs of air escaping his lips. So peaceful, so ethereal with the light from outside your window shining on his side profile.

He looks like an angel, absolutely unreal, that you can’t help but admire him. How the playful sunshine kisses his sculpted nose, caresses his cheeks, its particles of light lingering on his pink and pouty lips. Every feature, every single detail of his face, beautiful. Sharp, stunning, flawless. The universe really took its time with him.

You'd say that this is a pretty objective opinion. Ask anyone and they would concur. You don’t think you could ever get tired of looking at Minho.

There’s a sudden urge that grows in you - the selfish need to be the sun itself. You want to be the sun, to be the reason why there’s warmth and light in his life, to give him nothing but good things, nothing less than what he deserves.

Your axis shifts. It’s overwhelming just how much you want to be good for him.

Minho is supposed to be your friend.

You don’t think you’re supposed to feel this way about your friend.

The beautiful boy next to you stirs, and you instantly shut your eyes. You wait as he stretches a bit, then he holds you tighter, closer, the proximity making tears well up behind your closed eyelids. It’s so nice just being in his arms like this. So wonderful and so right.

You feel loved, even if it may not be the kind of love that you’ve been searching for.

A gentle hand strokes your hair, and just that simple action is enough to make you melt, a tightness tugging at your heartstrings all of a sudden.

If Minho was a season, he would be spring. Beautiful and heavenly spring. Some may argue that it can’t possibly be the case because people often view him as callous and mean, and you hate it every time anyone speaks about him that way. They don’t know him like you do, and he’s been nothing but warm and kind to you for as long as you’ve known him.

To be more precise, Minho would be the onset of spring, when the brutal and lonely winter eventually has to make way for the beginning of a new season. It’s a subtle transition, a gentle inauguration of warmth where the earth welcomes life into its open arms again. When daylight starts to last longer and snow begins to melt in between cobblestone cracks. When buds on trees start growing into their luscious green coat and flowers slowly burst through their roof of soil to bring forth colors for spring. Everything is soft and delicate, easy to overlook if you don’t pay close attention.

That’s what Minho is to you - a new beginning. Calming, welcoming, steady.

You want to snuggle further into the heat of his body but you’re afraid it might blow your cover, so you keep on staying still. He’s close, closer than you two have ever been when you aren't having sex, but it’s not enough. If it was possible, you would wrap you and him up in your own little bubble where the concept of time is foreign and you could stay here forever. You wouldn’t have to go back to your boring routine and deal with the stresses that you’ve been carrying all your life.

It’s like a switch has been flipped. You want more. It’s a fleeting thought, but the imprint it leaves behind isn’t ephemeral at all.

A simple life with Minho and the spring. That doesn’t sound too bad.

Min: wyd tomorrow afternoon? You: i have to go buy paint after class. Why? Min: can i come with :( You: u wanna go look at paint with me for 2 hrs? Min: no lol Min: i cleared my whole afternoon because kim seungmin asked me to go suit shopping with him for his sister’s wedding but he’s ditching me, so i have no idea what to do Min: you’re my last option You: thanks. i’m v flattered You: hyunjin refused to entertain you? Min: don’t like him You: 🙄 You: chan? changbin? jisung? jeongin? lix? there’s no way they’re ALL busy Min: i didn’t ask. don’t like them either You: so i’m not your LAST option then Min: no. but you’re the only one i’d rather hang out with You: you’re weird Min: so tomorrow? You: the store is a bit far away though Min: i can take you. i’ll borrow chan’s car

You assume that Minho would pick you up right after your class finishes since he told you that he was free all day, but you still end up having to wait for him while wandering aimlessly around campus, the messages that you sent him sitting in your phone delivered but not read.

He appears about twenty minutes later than you thought he would, rolling up in Chan’s new car that he just got a couple months ago. You get into the vehicle with an unimpressed look on your face, clicking the seatbelt into place before you turn to him in the driver's seat.

“Punctual,” you comment pointedly.

“Sorry. I went to that cafe you like but there was a line.”

“Oh,” you say, your earlier annoyance waning quickly when you notice the cup holders between the two of you. “Why did you go all the way there just for shitty matcha lattes? We could’ve just gone to the campus cafe for that.”

Minho grabs a paper bag from the backseat before he places it neatly in your lap like a little present. "But the campus cafe doesn’t have those overpriced croissants that you’re always raving about."

You stare at the baked good in your lap - an almond croissant filled with cream cheese and strawberries. “Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” you say. “But thank you.”

Minho looks at you. “You forgot to eat lunch again, didn’t you?”

“How’d you know?”

“Because you’re looking at that thing like you’re deeply in love with it.”

You roll your eyes before plucking a cream cheese-covered strawberry from the bag and taking a bite, dramatically throwing your head back as you sigh in exasperation, “I might be deeply in love with you right now.”

When you finish the strawberry, you turn to look at Minho, only to find him already staring at you with his sharp eyes. He holds your gaze for a few seconds, then brings a hand up to brush away a dot of cream cheese off the corner of your mouth. You half expect him to put the finger in his mouth like hot fictional characters tend to do, and yet, your cheeks still catch fire when Minho meets your expectation.

He catches sight of your flush but doesn’t throw you a teasing comment or anything of the likes. Instead, he just chuckles - a bit endeared if you can say so yourself - and starts the car.

Minho is gracious enough to let you choose the music for the drive and in turn, you offer him the last piece of your cherished croissant (everyone knows the last bite is the best bite), plopping the pastry into his mouth while he keeps his hands on the wheel, only for him to complain that it has too much cream.

When you get to the art supply store, Minho picks up a basket by the door. The store isn’t that big, but they have the best selection out of all the other places you’ve been. Hyunjin keeps telling you to come to the store that he frequents - the one that sells those fancy watercolors that you don’t really need - but you’ve been going here for ages. You used to live nearby so it was more convenient, but this is still your go-to spot even after you moved closer to campus. The sense of familiarity associated with this quaint store isn’t something you’re quite ready to let go of yet.

You peruse the aisles alongside Minho, who dutifully carries the basket for all of your things without you even asking. He doesn’t really try to make conversation while you study the colors, which is a little uncharacteristic but you don’t think much about it. He just quietly watches you, and you like how even the silence is comfortable between the two of you.

After a while, he asks, “Do you have a theme in mind?”

You do, but you think it’s a little silly to say out loud so you don’t. Although you know Minho would never make you feel small or diminish your ideas, it’s not something that you’re really keen on sharing at the moment.

“Kind of,” you say. “It’s not fully fleshed out yet. I know what colors I want to go for though.”

You meticulously pick out the acrylics you want for your painting, mostly dark and dull tones. You have a vision of what you want to achieve on the canvas, and you spend a decent chunk of time deciding on your blues, grays and russets.

A somber scene, anyone can tell.

For the finishing touch, you pick up two tubes of yellow paint, trying to decide between Golden Poppy or Spring Daffodil. Either one is a stark contrast to the melancholic feel you were going for before.

Turning to face Minho, you raise your hands. “Which one?”

He stares at the acrylics for a minute in silence. “They’re yellow,” he concludes.

“Duh. But which shade do you like better?”

“They look exactly the same.”

You purse your lips, then hold your hands closer to his face as if it’ll help. "No, look. This one is slightly lighter but muted. This one is more vibrant but the shade is deeper."

Minho hums as if in thought. You wonder if he actually sees the differences, but he probably doesn’t. Hyunjin is usually the only person in your friend group whom you can talk to about these things since he’s the only other art major of the bunch.

“Is yellow supposed to be happy?”

Hope, is what you want to say. You want it to end on a lighter, brighter note. Happy feels too unattainable even if it’s only ideals and colors on canvas.

But maybe sometimes being hopeful is the same as being happy. Maybe for some, that’s all you can really ask for.

In spite of it all, isn’t hope the only thing that persists?

“Sure,” you say, “yellow is happy.”

After a brief moment, Minho plucks the tube in your left hand and puts it in the basket. Spring Daffodil it is.

It’s kind of a nice thought, isn’t it? That Minho had a helping hand in your work. That there’s a little bit of him in your art.

You go to the cash register with a basket full of goodies, only to realize that you don’t actually have anything on you.

“Ah, crap,” you mutter, turning to Minho. “My wallet is in my bag. In the car.”

“I’ll get it,” Minho says, handing you the basket. “Be right back.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll just check something out over there.”

And then he’s off, the bell by the door ringing to announce his temporary departure. You wander over to a shelf in the corner where they store their brushes. There’s a filbert brush that you’ve been eyeing for a while.

You go over the selection, debating whether or not you should replace some of the brushes you have at home. Most of them are worn out; they’ve been with you for ages now.

You don’t notice the second chime of the bell, too immersed in studying the bristles, envisioning the strokes they would create on canvas.

You don’t pay attention to a voice talking to you either. That is, until a shoulder nudges yours and you find yourself looking up at an unfamiliar face.

Taking a step away from the stranger, you say, “Can I help you?”

The man doesn’t look like he’s your age, but he doesn’t look that much older either. Probably just by a few years. “I was just saying that filbert’s a good choice,” he chuckles.

“Oh, yeah.” You give him a small smile. “It’s a good brush.”

“Great for blending. It really makes the strokes stand out, y’know.”

“Mhmm. So I’ve heard.”

Glancing at the contents of your basket, he asks, “Are you working on a project?”

“Just something for a class.”

He hums in acknowledgment, to which you give him a nod in return. The conversation is short and awkward, as one can probably expect when they try to make small talk with a stranger over something as random as a paintbrush.

And especially when the recipient of said small talk is you, who’s been described on multiple occasions as “unapproachable” and “intimidating”.

That, and the fact that you suffer from a major case of resting bitch face and you’re not really keen on talking to strangers when you it’s not absolutely necessary.

You move to the next aisle, going back to look at the selection of colors from which you’ve already taken your pick earlier with Minho. You don’t need a second look, but it just feels a little weird to still be standing in the same corner with the man.

You think that it would be the end of your interaction, but then he moves along with you. He follows you as you walk, before soon obliterating any space between your body as he strides next to you, your arms brushing one another.

“I’ve actually noticed you in here a few times,” he says.

“Sorry?”

“I’ve seen you before.” This time, he tells you with a smile. “I just never worked up the courage to talk to you until today.”

It’s not a bad smile, nothing Joker-esque but the way he says it with practically no space at all between the two of you makes you a little squeamish.

You wonder what’s taking Minho so long.

“Oh,” you say, not really sure how else to respond, trying to shuffle away from him but there’s not much room to accommodate the both of you. “That’s... uhm, actually, could you-”

He gets the hint, but it’s not like you were trying to hide the discomfort on your face. He takes a couple of small steps back, which doesn’t really count as stepping out of your personal space but it’s a little better than before.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not coming on too strongly. You’re just... I think you’re really pretty,” he says with a small laugh, the kind that would be charming if real life was a romcom and you two were the main characters. “Are you here by yourself?”

“Thank you... uhm, I’m... flattered but I’m here with my boyfriend today.”

You can tell that the mention of a significant other throws him off, because he doesn’t exactly do a very good job at concealing his surprise.

“You usually go alone, though.”

Oh...?

Right. Definitely not a romcom.

You can’t help the slight frown that tugs on your brows upon hearing those words. If you were somewhat irritated before by a random stranger who can’t really take a hint, then that feeling is rapidly melting away to make space for a sense of unease that crawls up the back of your neck like a rogue spider.

You can normally handle mildly persistent guys who keep insisting on chatting you up, but you’ve never actually had someone drop a creepy line on you before.

In a place that you’ve frequented for years now.

You’re suddenly wildly grateful that Minho demanded to tag along today.

“My boyfriend is just getting some stuff from the car,” you settle on telling the man. “He’ll be right back.”

“Maybe I can keep you company while you wait.”

“Thank you but that’s not necessary.”

“Not even for a few minutes?”

“You really don’t have to do that. My boyfriend will be back any-”

Then you’re being pulled to the side, the abruptness of the moment briefly disorienting you that you almost lose your balance if not for the arm around your shoulder keeping you steady.

You glance up with widened eyes, though they soften after a couple seconds as relief washes over you. Minho leans down to kiss you before you can say anything; the only sound that escapes you is a surprised Oh! which he muffles with his lips.

“Sorry I took so long, baby,” he says once he pulls away. “My mom called to ask if we’re still coming over this weekend. You’re still up for Sunday, right?”

“Hmm?” You try to ignore the tingle in your lips and the spike in your heart rate, but you quickly blame it on the suddenness of his actions. “Yeah... yeah, Sunday’s good.”

Minho smiles softly, his hand squeezing your shoulder comfortingly pressing another kiss to your cheek - for further emphasis, you suppose - before he turns his attention elsewhere.

His expression changes completely. Instead of a cute smile, his mouth is pressed into a hard line, his gaze a cold glare. “Can we help you?”

The man doesn’t instantly back off like you thought he would - Minho can be quite scary when he wants to be - but glances between you and Minho like he’s assessing the situation.

The kiss, the arm around your shoulder, the deadly look in Minho’s eyes, plus your friend has been working out more often lately and it shows.

The unwanted stranger eventually raises a conceding hand. “Nope, all good. Sorry for bothering you,” he says, plastering that smile on his face again. “Have a good day.”

Minho takes the basket from your hand and steers you away. He keeps a hand on your back while you pay and collect your supplies at the counter. Basket duty turns into carrying the bag of acrylics for you even after you insist on doing it yourself.

Once you’re in the car, you turn to him with a grateful smile. “Thanks for the save.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says. “I’m sorry though. I was getting your bag and Hyunjin called screaming about something. I didn’t know you were stuck with a weirdo. What did he say?”

“I’ve never seen him before but he said he’s seen me around. He kept trying to talk me even after I said I had a boyfriend. And get this, he knows that I usually come here alone. I don’t know, I’m a little grossed out.”

Minho frowns. When he says your name, it’s full of concern. “He knows that you usually go alone? That’s creepy.”

“I know!” Leaning against the headrest, you sigh, “Ugh, this is where I always go to get my supplies.”

“Why don’t you just go to the place that Hyunjin goes? It’s close to campus.”

“But everything’s so overpriced there. Besides, they have the best selection here. It’s my go-to.’

He goes quiet then, and speaks up after a moment of contemplation. “Tell me whenever you need to go. I’ll come with you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.” There must be incredulousness written all over your face, but his expression returns to neutral, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You know all of your friends are quite protective, but still.

“You’re not asking me. I’m offering.”

“It’s not like you’re free all the time.”

Minho hums, acknowledging your point because it’s true. He has a life of his own and shit that he has to deal with; he can’t be around to babysit you 24/7. Not that you even need him to anyway. “If I can’t go then I’ll make sure Hyunjin goes with you. Or Jisung. Any one of the guys.”

“It’s not that big a deal.” You look at Minho, to which he just stares back. “I know I said today was weird but I’m not that helpless.”

“I know you’re not helpless.” He holds your gaze, briefly wondering if he has offended you somehow. “If you won’t do it for your sake, will you at least do it for mine? I don’t want you to be in a bad situation when I can help make it better for you.”

The tone he uses to deliver his words doesn’t really leave you any room to argue. You would probably just kinda look like an asshole to brush him off when all he genuinely wants is to ensure that you’re safe.

Eventually, you only purse your lips and nod, which seems to appease Minho for now. Of course you’re thankful that you have good people by your side. If the roles were reversed and this happened to any of your friends, you would be all up in arms for them too.

But way beyond that appreciation is something that you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s similar to the feeling you got the first morning you woke up next to him. A fluttering sensation in your chest, warmly touched by how much he cares, how much he’s willing to do for you.

It’s simply absurd to you that anyone would think Minho is cold.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom (italicized = can’t tag)

series taglist: @eyesforlino @armystay89 @nuronhe @becomingmina @astro-doll-the-star @hyuneyeon @jisunglyricist @yoontaethings @thisisnotjacinta @cupidcures @wyzminho

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lvlyghost · 11 months

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Disobedience

PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SUMMARY: Simon warned you not to go out, but a quick trip to the local pub doesn't seem like a bad idea.

WORD COUNT: 1.1k

TW: angst, comfort. overprotective!simon, reader is careless, pregnancy, established relationship. another part(? idk. poorly edited. mind the english. you know the drill 💗🌝

A/N: heh, so i'm down with —another— cold and I was just drifting off to sleep thanks to the meds when this idea hit me so i had to write it down, wish it was longer though, was planning on adding more angst but if this does well a second part might happen; (simon's still mad at reader🌚). enjoy🍂🌝

Masterlist✨

"So you did exactly what I specifically told you not to do?" He mutters, pacing back and forth in front of you, who could only stare up at him with wide eyes and parted lips. You had never seen him this mad. Not in the two years of relationship you so carefully built up.

It happened the night before he was supposed to return from deployment.

Simon had been gone for two months to a special operation with the task force or so he had told you. He couldn't disclose much about his work so he gave you little-to-no information regarding his mission and part of you felt relieved, he had said countless of times that there were things that he never wanted you to learn about. So you just did what you knew best: hug him and love him endlessly. And he did the same for you.

God knows Simon Riley loved you.

But going out for a few drinks —although you really didn't have any, thank the tiny human growing inside you— seemed harmless. Catching up with your small group of three friends after not seeing each other for months was something that couldn't kill anyone. And in all honesty you were going crazy. Needed a distraction. Fresh air. Break the routine you had fallen onto.

Simon had been gone for a while, and it's something you accepted when you started dating. So he wasn't the one to blame at all. Just like it wasn't his fault that you blatantly disobeyed him when he had called you through a secure line.

'Listen to me, love.' You could practically hear the worry in his voice. Things have taken a turn, yeah? I need you to stay in. Word's spreading these terrorists are targeting... families. I- I just need you to be safe yeah? Until I get home. It'll take a day tops. We don't wanna risk it. Jus' wait for me, please."

Needless to say that you had agreed at first, and it didn't took much convincing from your friends to drag you out. After all, Simon had made sure that you were off the radar to these terrorist or mercenaries. He put so much care to your safety, little people knew about your existence; so there was no reason to be worried right? A few hours of mingling then you'd go back. it's not like you could stand being out for so long either way.

The small bump on your belly was enough reason to call it a night a few hours into the night. Your pregnancy was still at the point where sleep got the best of you. The emotional outbursts were also not rare. The morning sickness that came with it.

But now under Simon's disapproving eyes you wonder if you had taken the right decision to disregard the order he had given you. All for an innocent reunion with the girls. His big hands are on his hips, staring you down with those brown eyes that you love, just not right now. You wonder if this is what the soldiers under his command feel when they're the subject of his ire. You hold back the tears. Fuck, he's not even being so hard on you, not even raising his voice. He'd never do that to you. Disappointing him is something you are not so proud of now.

"I didn't think it would be that bad." Simon scoffs, pinching the bridge of his nose as an eerie silence settles between the two. "I know it's the dumbest excuse I- it was going to be for a few hours..."

Until he had barged into the pub. His eyes roaming around the establishment until he locked eyes with you, he had relaxed instantly. The deep pit that had set in his stomach when he got home only to be greeted by a deafening silence began to fade. Then anger reared its ugly head when he silently asked —demanded— you to stand up and led the two out of the place. The ride back in complete silence, hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. Why couldn't you just obey him for once? It took you hours to completely forget about his warnings. What if they laid hands on you? On his unborn child? Gritting his teeth he had stared forward focusing on anything but the thought of finding your dead body, of him scooping you up all bloodied and unreachable. Gone to somewhere he couldn't follow just yet.

Simon stalks forward sitting down on the coffee table in front of you, wood creaking beneath his weight. He leaned forward, face mere centimeters from yours as his arms rest on his thighs.

"Love." He calls you, and then he softly murmurs your name. "I'm trying to protect you..." he swallows, eyes traveling down to your small bump and then back to you again. "Both of you. If something happened..." Simon's jaw clenched, he doesn't even want to think of the worst scenarios. "We have enemies and i'd never forgive myself..." You stop him, grabbing his gloved hands and squeezing them with yours. The soft touch he had longed for these past months. He absentmindedly caressed your warm skin.

"Nothing's gonna happen, baby." You assured him, he stares intently at your eyes and finds nothing but love.

"Lost people before this way." He breathes out. And you feel like the biggest moron in the world. He's talking about his family. Simon rarely talks about them. "Hell will freeze before I let that happen again." Standing up he follows, arms wrapping around his middle. "Price set up a safe house for us, until things calm down and get the bastards." One of his hands rests on the nape of your neck inhaling the aroma of your shampoo, the other one firmly set on your swollen belly. He's missed this. Just being around you. Feeling you against him.

"You're coming too right? Missed you terribly." He rest his chin on top of your head.

"Don't think I could leave you now even if I had to."

You sigh deeply, placing a kiss on his chest; you wonder if one day the danger will stop. Simon's made many enemies along the years. But his efforts to keep his identity a secret were greater than any threat out there. Now with you and a baby in the way he'd never rest until he was sure no harm will get to you.

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vickyzangels · 1 year

Text

% “eres ese algo que mi mente ha estado imaginando”

# synopsis ; i’m literally just writing down a thought cause i wanna go to sleep

# pairing ; tom kaulitz x reader

# word count ; 437

# tags ; nsfw (mdni), unprotected p in v, pre-established relationship (i literally label him your boyfriend so idk if i even need this tag), half awake writing if it’s bad i didn’t do it

a/n ; meine schatz - my treasure, liebchen - sweetheart

you very very briefly mentioned to your boyfriend over text that you wanted to see what’d it be like to get fucked face down, ass up.

t: isn’t that just doggy ??

idk its supposed to have a diff angle to it i think

the conversation moved on quickly, and that was seemingly the end of it. and then tonight you both came back from a trashy party in some celebrity’s mansion, so what better way to end the night than to try out that position you brought up?

“fuckk-k.. please..! s’ deep… godf-!” you muffled from your hotel room’s sheets. sure, tom said a lot of things during interviews, but he very rarely lied, and he very much didn't when he said he was 24 cm. shit, you swore you could feel him in your stomach and yet you could feel his tip hitting your spongy g-spot with every push to the hilt of his cock.

he was moving so slowly but he knew that this angle was doing you so much justice, of course he knew, even between his groans you could hear his infamous smirk. you don’t know how much more you can take, the throbbing of pleasure was swallowing you whole and god- if your pussy subconsciously clenched around him one more time and pulled him somehow deeper into you, your eyes would look at the back of your head with how hard you’ve been rolling them.

tom wasn’t helping your case, he very much was not helping your case with how he was running calloused fingers over the arch of your back, ensuring that your head was far into the pillows. who knows how many times you came on his dick, trying to wrench away from him through every orgasm and yet simultaneously pushing yourself back onto it.

“one more, meine schatz, just one more i promise.”

he sounds so supportive and willing and fuck, you believe him, even if he said that the last 2 times. this time he might actually mean it, though, when he pushes himself up and braces a soft palm that you've come to love on the back of your head, gently securing your head down before he pulls almost entirely out of you and in suddenly quick thrusts, completely bottoms out in you, over and over and over again.

this time he’s not brushing your spot anymore, he’s aiming and hitting directly at it. any form of verbal communication coming out of you completely melts into loud mews and gasps, barely shaping together a choppy, “can-t… take it..!”

“yes, you can, just take it a little longer, liebchen.”

a/n ; birthday coming up soon yay

a/n 2 ; WAS I JUST A FOOLL ⁉️ YOU’LL NEVER GET AWAY FROM THE SOUNNDD OF THE WOMAN WHO LOVED YOU‼️

taglist ; @cup1d-lix @imabitchh @arquiiva @verelace @iovemoonyy @everseve

#tom kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel #tokio hotel fanfic #tokio hotel x reader #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz fanfic

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nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 2 months

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OmfffffGGGG the fun I had writing this chapter GUYS—

I mean start to finish, I've been giggling like an idiot the entire mfing TIME

Well, alternating between giggling like an idiot and snickering deviously like a witch huddled over a cauldron but that's neither here nor there

Of course we have banter between Garp's dippy ass and Bogard's far more poised and reasonable demeanor, but also

BUT ALSO—

i cannot

I can't spoil it I cannot I will not I must not I shan't it would be positively rude in all honesty i will not—

Just———muffled screaming

Look I'm sorry in advance I had way too much fun with this

even mihawk is done with my shit at this point

Flight Risk

Young!Mihawk x Marine!AFAB!Reader

Ch. 4 of who even fcking knows at this point honestly, five? Six? Fifty? Whatever just let me vibe

Brief summary of The Story So Far: Your mission, as a Marine and Zoan type devil fruit user (gray parrot), is to gather intel on Dracule Mihawk, a pirate on the Grand Line who has become a thorn in the Marines' side over a relatively short period of time. Your first recon mission, while more or less a success, left you wounded and your commanding officers more divided than ever over the operation at hand. You have since arrived at Marineford to complete your training for the mission, and gods only know where things might go from here....

Previous chapter, First chapter, Next chapter

SFW for now, but not in later chapters

No Trigger Warnings in this chapter. Possible future Trigger Warnings for imprisonment, mild torture (definitely psychological, maybe physical)

Tags: Enemies to lovers, eventually NSFW, idk maybe more later Word Count: 4,832

Taglist: @i-am-vita thank you so much you have no idea how much this means to me

♫♬Halloween Blues - The Fratellis♬♫

Well, I'm gonna make ya love me, gonna make ya wish that you'd never been born

Now ya wish you'd never met me, I could be the joker that you couldn't shake off

It was agreed upon by all parties involved that not a word would be spoken of your ill-advised “test” at Kuraigana Island to anyone but Fleet Admiral Sengoku. The brunt of the chastisement fell upon Garp and Bogard, as the commanding officers overseeing the mission; and while you were scolded yourself for getting far closer than your orders had suggested you should, you were still commended for providing valuable new information.

The Marines were now aware that Kuraigana Island was home to a population of large primates, of undetermined size or intelligence but with enough intellect to use basic weaponry.

The Marines were also now aware that the presence of Dracule “Hawk-Eye” Mihawk on the otherwise abandoned island was confirmed, and that the volatile pirate had most likely set up at least a temporary base amid the desolate castle ruins.

You were permitted to keep in contact with your mother over the following months of your training as promised, with the stipulation that your letters would be screened to ensure you didn’t relay any confidential information to outside parties. As such, you wrote your final letter aboard a small unmarked vessel bound to pass by Kuraigana Island perhaps four months after the first, and had handed it over to Bogard to scan over.

Hi, Mom!

I’m still doing great, I promise. Training has been exhausting but I’ve learned a lot, and it’s been a breath of fresh air to be among people that actually seem to like me. My commanding officers are a little annoying, but I guess they’re okay. I trust them.

This will be the last letter for a while since I’m being deployed. You don’t have to worry, it’s nothing serious and I’ll be fine, I just won’t be somewhere that I can receive any mail. You can still write me though, and I’ll be able to reply the second I get back to my base. I don’t know exactly how long that will be, but the tentative estimate is two months. It could be sooner, but it could be a little longer.

Love you, and give my love to all our feathery friends.

“Ten minutes out,” said Garp, sitting against the railing with a doughnut hanging out of his mouth as he finished filling out the remainder of the paperwork he had put off until the very last minute.

“‘Commanding officers are a little annoying, but I guess they’re okay,’” Bogard read aloud, lowering your letter to glance down at you with a wry look.

“She’s not wrong, you’re pretty damned irritating,” said Garp. Bogard lowered his eyes to the vice admiral sitting on the deck of the ship, lifting an eyebrow.

Garp only raised his doughnut with a nod and took another bite before returning to his report. Bogard huffed out a sigh and folded the letter, turning his gaze to you as you paced back and forth across the small deck. The vessel was little more than a sloop, designed for no more than one or two people to sail on their own, sturdy enough to withstand the unpredictable weather patterns of the Grand Line but far less advanced than the standard Marine vessel. You barely noticed his gaze upon you, staring down at your feet as you paced, counting the nails in the deck boards in a futile attempt to keep your mind clear from the quickly approaching start of your mission.

You stopped in your tracks the moment Bogard cleared his throat to get your attention, lifting your head sharply and standing at attention.

“A…at ease,” he said slowly, watching you shuffle your feet and fold your hands behind your back. “Your letter will be sent once Garp and myself return to Marineford,” he assured you. “Once you have left this ship, your own contact with the Marines will cease for a period of no less than two months, unless you are forced to make emergency contact. Emergecy contact will only be employed—”

“Under the circumstance that my own life is in immediate and unquestionable danger,” you responded immediately, to which Bogard gave a curt nod.

“Correct,” he agreed. “There will be a covert Marine presence at every island neighboring Kuraigana. Should you require rescue, the closest vessel will be able to arrive within twenty-four hours.”

“She won’t need it,” Garp chimed in through the last bite of his doughnut, and in a rare break of his iron composure, Bogard reached into one of his overcoat pockets and threw a pen at him in response. You watched as Garp caught it and used the implement to sign his name at the bottom of his paperwork before flicking it across the deck of the ship. “Have a little faith, Bogard. We have at our disposal a trained weapon of subterfuge.”

Garp wrapped his hand around the railing behind him and pulled himself to his feet, strolling over to your side and clapping you on the shoulder.

“Trained under our own supervision,” he went on proudly, while Bogard closed his eyes and heaved a slow, impatient sigh, waiting for him to go on. “Who has already provided us with more up-to-date information on the target than anyone else in our ranks—”

“—I’m still not saying your impulsive little test was anything but idiotic—”

“—and humbly declined to take credit for any of it,” Garp went on , ignoring his partner. You jolted as he gave you a sharp pat on the back. “She’ll be just fine. Won’t ya, kid?”

“I’ll—perform my duties as expected of…” You trailed off into a sigh yourself when Garp rolled his eyes. “Yeah,” you said stiffly. “I’ll be fine.”

“See? She’ll be fine.”

Garp gave a firm nod, as if your word was more than enough to affirm your fate as solid fact.

And then his brow furrowed as he stared across the deck.

His eyes narrowed into a squint, and he turned his head the slightest bit, his hand lowering from your shoulder and back to his side,

“No…that’s not…”

By the time Bogard turned his head, Garp was already striding across the deck, extending a spyglass as he leaned over the railing and stared through the scope. He gave a growl of annoyance as he held the scope out behind him for Bogard to take. Your heart raced as you slowly crossed the deck to join them, your already thin resolve faltering when Bogard slowly lowered the scope to glance at Garp.

“This changes—”

“It changes nothing,” said Garp, jerking his head to look at Bogard.

You didn’t need the spyglass to see the foggy haze around Kuraigana Island past the railing, no more than you needed it to see the small ship docked near its southern banks. You couldn’t make out much about it, but you could see the one thing that mattered—it flew a black flag.

“Red-Hair,” said Garp. “I knew he’d be trouble. I told Sengoku, I told him—”

“Why the hell would he be here?” Bogard said slowly, looking back out toward the island. He glanced behind him, and held out the spyglass for you to take. You moved to the railing between them, holding it to one eye and shutting the other to look through it at the distant ship. “There’s no chance any information has—”

“No, there isn’t,” agreed Garp, as your vision adjusted against the magnification of the lenses. You scanned over the small ship, which appeared to be empty, before lifting your head to focus on its flag—a jolly roger, decorated with a pair of crossed cutlasses and a skull with three slashes across one eye.

“Red-Haired Shanks…?” you said slowly, lowering the scope, glancing between Garp and Bogard as they stared out at the ship. “Ah—three hundred million, two hundred sixty-two thousand berry bounty.”

“Sixty-three,” corrected Bogard absently, glancing at Garp. Garp remained focused, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the ship, his grip tight around the deck railing. “Vice-Admiral.” He glanced over sharply when Bogard spoke up. “This does change—”

“It changes nothing,” Garp growled firmly.

You didn’t particularly like the way Bogard leaned over the railing, holding his hat in place as he shook his head, staring at Garp with no small degree of trepidation. Your eyes shifted to Garp when he turned around to face you, frowning down at you thoughtfully,

“Or it could change things for the better,” he said slowly, letting out a small chuckle. “Well, lass. This is your call. Seems more than just Mihawk might be docked at the island ahead of us.” You nodded shortly to show you were following, waiting for him to continued. “Not much is known about Shanks as yet…to the masses.”

“Garp—”

Garp held up a hand when Bogard tossed a warning look at him.

“—but I have on good authority that he trained under Gold Roger himself.” Your eyes widened, flickering back toward the ship in question, as Bogard let out a growl of annoyance and stormed back toward the opposite side of the deck. “This is an unexpected turn.” Your gaze shot back toward Garp as he straightened out, folding his hands behind his back and staring down at you. “We can head back toward Marineford and go through all the meticulous to-do’s of officially changing our plans, spend a few more months buried in paperwork, or—”

“I’m going.” He raised his eyebrows, his lips already twitching toward a smile at the firmness of your words. “The Red-Hair pirates would be no more aware of who I am than Mihawk. There’s no point wasting any more time.”

“No, I guess there isn’t,” he agreed, grinning. He cleared his throat, cupping a hand around his mouth and making a show of calling across the small expanse of the deck to Bogard. “You might just be able to gather us a little more intel than we expeced. Hear that, Bogard? No need to delay!”

“No need to pull a muscle patting yourself on the back, either,” Bogard grumbled, just loud enough to ensure Garp heard him.

“Alright, kid,” said Garp, happily ignoring him as he leaned against the side of the railing. “We’ve got under ten minutes, so here’s the rundown.” He turned his head, looking out toward the ship moored just off the edge of the island. “Shanks, as I said. Captain, pupil of Gold Roger himself. Primary weapon is a sabre. Straw hat, bright red hair, difficult to miss. There’s Yasopp, the first man to join his crew, at the time he was regarded as the sharpest shooter in the East Blue. Dark skin, dreadlocks, carries a pair of flintlock pistols.”

“So...that’s his first mate?”

“No.” Your brow furrowed. “That would be Beckman. Dark hair, ponytail, built like a brick shithouse. Carries a flintlock rifle. He’s a damn good shot himself but he’ll use the thing as a club in close quarters. Lucky Roux, the cook, bastard’s probably as wide as he is tall…”

You listened closely to Garp’s continued colorful descriptions of the crew officers of the Red Hair Pirates—and the potential dangers they could pose to your health should anyone discover what you really were.

“Red Hair isn’t the brightest match in the box,” he went on, “but there’s a great deal of evidence that he closely rivals Dracule Mihawk in swordsmanship. Should the two end up fighting, you keep your distance. Otherwise, be exceedingly careful around Benn Beckman. He’s the idiot’s first mate for a reason and probably accounts for ninety percent of the collective brain cells of the entire crew. You’ll have to keep a close eye on him while you keep up your act. There’s no telling why they’re docked here, and it would be in your best interest to figure it out. If they’re going to be around for a while, keep your distance.”

“I...sort of doubt any of them are ornithology experts,” you said, frowning.

“As much as one might doubt that a species of unknown primates could learn to use relatively modern weaponry.” You turned your head sharply at the sound of Bogard’s voice close behind you—you hadn’t heard him cross the deck. Your frown deepened as he gave a pointed glance at the scar spanning nearly the entire length of your right upper arm. Garp, gestured to the other Marine pointedly at his statement, and you couldn’t deny that he had a point either. “You’ll keep your distance. Fooling one pirate alone is going to be a great deal easier and safer than attempting to fool an entire crew of them.” He turned his head to Garp. “This is still the most ridiculous mission I’ve ever had the displeasure of being involved in.”

“Ah, girl’s got her act down fine,” he said dismissively—and Garp wasn’t wrong about that. Your favorite part of your training by far had been simply flying around the massive base at Marineford, taking tally of how many of the staff and officers you could fool. The only individuals privy to the exact nature of your mission were Garp and Bogard, a small selection of admirals and vice admirals, and Fleet Admiral Sengoku himself. Your performance had been enough to levy a unanimous vote to go forth with the mission. “Your persona, cadet?”

“Gray parrot, previously the pet of a pirate crew that perished in battle, therefore comfortable around pirates in general,” you said. “Able to repeat a number of sounds and phrases that might be heard aboard a ship, capable of learning new phrases and words faster than most other similar species of bird. Particular disdain for Marines and may fly into a frenzy at the sight of their vessels.”

“See?” said Garp, clapping you on the back hard enough that you flinched. “I’d say we’ve got this in the bag.”

Bogard stared between the two of you for a moment, frowning, before shaking his head. “God help us all,” he muttered under his breath, lifting a hand to rub his eyes.

The final few minutes of the voyage were spent with Garp and Bogard grilling you about the small amount of information known by the Marines about Dracule Mihawk, about the quick briefing you had just received on the Red Hair pirates, about your memorization of the den den mushi numbers you were to contact in the event that your life was in immediate danger or that you found any information useful enough to wrap the operation up early. Garp gave a resolute nod as you neared your destination, around a mile and a half off the shore of Kuraigana Island, and Bogard gave a heavy sigh and a short nod in silent agreement—no matter how little he approved, you were as ready as you were going to be.

“Alright, then, cadet,” said Garp, his wide grin a direct contrast to his partner’s pessimism. “Bird mode, activate.”

“Must you call it that?” said Bogard, tossing a weary look at Garp as you gave a quick salute and immediately shrank down into your devil fruit form on the deck. You fluttered your wings enough to hop up onto the deck railing in front of them, and Bogard frowned down at you. “Best of luck,” he offered. “Should all go according to plan, we’ll see you again in no more than two months.”

He cringed the slightest bit when you raised your wing in another salute, squawking out over Garp’s snort of laughter, “Wind in your sails!”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Garp, waving you off. “Now shoo, bird. And no getting yourself killed.”

And once more, you found yourself flying out toward Kuraigana Island.

You made a high pass over the Red Hair’s ship, squinting down toward it as you soared overhead, and the cause of their mooring near the island became quickly clear—it appeared that there was work being performed on a few sizable cannonball holes on the port side of the vessel. You were surprised to see a handful of the crew on the beach near the edge of the forest, seeming to be laughing among themselves and having a grand time, the primates that had attacked you nowhere in sight. Lucky Roux was easy enough to pick out, exactly as Garp had described him—striped shirt and tinted goggles, easily as wide as he was tall, sitting against a tree and taking a bite out of what looked like an entire leg of lamb while another crewmate assisted in bandaging his arm.

Perhaps they had had a run-in with the local apes.

You took that as enough reason to remain vigilant as you flew high over the forest, scanning the treetops below for any signs of movement. It was a relief that there seemed to be none—if the Red Hair pirates had come in contact with the violent creatures, it seemed they had managed to beat them into submission. You considered how Garp had told you that no one had ever entered the island on foot and lived to tell the tale, and it sent a shiver over your spine to think that the crew might be that formidable.

The first signs of movement you witnessed came only once you neared the castle itself, and you nearly faltered in your flight.

Your target was directly below you.

Sitting on a broken piece of stone wall in the courtyard, clad in a white shirt with a ruffled collar and a pair of black pants, his hat sitting to the side next to him, his massive sword lying across his lap as he polished the handle. You slowly, cautiously circled lower, keeping a fair distance, your eyes remaining on the pirate. His mouth seemed to be fixed in a scowl, his posture tense.

You cautiously landed in one of the castle windows several feet away, side-stepping until you were perched in the very corner of the indentation, your gray plumage a perfect camouflage against the rugged stone, and the reason for Mihawk’s clear irritation became immediately evident as the sound of a nonchalant voice tore your gaze away from him.

“Nice place you’ve got here, Hawk-Eye.”

Shanks.

Garp’s description had once again been right on the money—his stringy scarlet hair was capped by a straw-hat, his hands tucked behind his neck as he paced across a pile of rubble that might have once been a wall, a long sabre tucked into his red cloth belt at his right hip. He hopped down to the ground as you watched, resting his elbow on the hilt of the sword as he stared up at the castle. “Be a shame if something happened to it.”

He reached over with his left hand, wrapping it around the handle of the sword, and you tensed immediately, prepared to take flight as he grinned and glanced over at Mihawk.

“Divi—”

Mihawk was on his feet in a flash, his sword extended out at arm’s length, the blade less than an inch away from Shanks’s neck, his sharp yellow eyes narrowing to threatening slits as Shanks lifted his hands up in mock-surrender, still grinning.

“Only kidding,” he said, taking a cautious step back from the edge of the black blade.

Mihawk eyed him with a venomous glare for a few seconds longer before pulling his blade back swiftly to his side and rolling his eyes, a growl of annoyance leaving him as he turned on his heel and stormed back over to the broken wall, sitting down once more. “Remind me of what the hell you’re doing here and precisely why you haven’t left yet?”

“Am I not allowed to visit my friends?” said Shanks, clutching at his chest dramatically in feigned offense. Mihawk ignored the redhead as he sat down heavily on the ground, grabbing a bottle of dark liquor propped up against the pile of rubble and working the cork loose. “Hey, it’s not my fault. This is where the Log pose pointed us. We needed to do a few repairs on the ship. Noticed your old rowboat moored nearby—”

“Rowboat,” Mihawk repeated under his breath, one of his eyes twitching the slightest bit.

“So what’s with the pissed off monkeys, anyway?” said Shanks, nodding toward the forest before taking a swig from the bottle and flicking the cork over his shoulder. “Few of them were damn near as good with a sword as you are.” Mihawk’s eyes shot toward him in a warning glare, and rolled away when Shanks gave a broad grin in response. “Train them yourself?”

“No,” he said shortly. “The humandrills were already quite capable with a variety of weapons when I arrived—”

“Aww, you named them?”

“I discovered the name among the historical documents in castle,” he said through his teeth. “It seems they learned to use weapons by watching their human neighbors before they managed to wipe themselves out. Perhaps,” he went on, before Shanks could speak up again, “your time would better be served overseeing the repairs on your ship so you can leave the moment they’re done.”

“Oh, the repairs are almost finished,” said Shanks, waving a dismissive hand. “Just waiting for the log pose to finish linking up.” He took a sip from his bottle, lifting his eyebrows. “Why? Aren’t you enjoying the company?”

“Oh, yes, immensely,” Mihawk responded dryly.

Your eyes darted between the pair of pirates amid their exchange, keeping yourself perfectly still in the stone windowsill. It was clear that Shanks, at least, was enjoying himself, and that they seemed to have some sort of history between them. It was equally clear that Mihawk would have very much preferred that his company take a long walk off the nearest short pier. He still kept his irritation in check, though whether it was out of any actual sense of camaraderie or he simply didn’t feel like wasting his energy fighting remained unclear.

Their exchange gave you an almost overwhelming sense of déjà vu, and you made a mental note to inform Garp and Bogard of it the next time you saw them.

“Oh, so grumpy,” Shanks commented, leaning back against the rubble behind him, stretching an arm out across one of his knees. “Why don’t you go take a nap, old man? I’m sure there are plenty of beds more than suited for someone of your positively regal manner.” Mihawk went on polishing the golden handle of his sword, not bothering to glance up. “Probably more than enough beds for any number of guests—”

“No,” said Mihawk coolly, still keeping his eyes turned down toward his sword.

“Oh, come on,” Shanks groaned in complaint, laying his head back. His mouth turned down into a despondent sort of pout, tilting his head to look over at the castle—and you tensed immediately, holding your breath, remaining still as a statue. “I’ve never even been in a castle before—”

“No,” Mihawk said again, louder this time, his yellow eyes fixing on Shanks with a firm gaze this time.

“You’re absolutely no fun at all,” Shanks huffed, lifting a small piece of stone from the ground and tossing it in his direction in a half-hearted manner. “You know, you’re going to die sad and alone one day in your desolate castle.”

“And what a peaceful end it will be,” said Mihawk disinterestedly, rolling his eyes back down to the sword across his lap as he buffed a rag across the gleaming blue gem at the end of the hilt.

“But not friendless,” Shanks added, completely ignoring him. He offered another broad grin. “I’ll always be your frien—”

“Would you just go away already?” Mihawksighed wearily, lifting his head and tossing the rag aside. “It’s abundantly clear what you’re attempting to do, and it isn’t going to work.”

“Oh, and just what am I trying to do?” said Shanks...and he seemed to bite his tongue for a moment, before adding in a cheeky tone, “...friend?”

“You’re fishing for a fight,” said Mihawk, gritting his teeth, briefly gripping the handle of his sword before releasing it from his grasp. “And I’m not in the mood.”

“Oh come. On,” Shanks groaned once more, leaning back heavily and pouting. “I’m bored. There’s literally nothing on this damned island except a pile of rocks and a bunch of trees and a particularly nice castle—”

“No.” Shanks gave a huff of irritation, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Mihawk. “Go off and play with the other monkeys if you’re so damned bored.”

“They’re already afraid of me,” he huffed, pouting like a child. He brushed a few unruly strands of hair away from his eyes, turning his gaze out toward the forest. “Stupid apes.” Mihawk only rolled his eyes, shook his head, and returned to the idle task of sword maintenance. “I’m frankly surprised you didn’t just slaughter all of them the moment you set foot here.”

“They make for a decent security system,” he said levelly.

“Or you’re secretly just a big softie—”

Shanks straightened out and gave another broad grin when Mihawk tossed a sharp glare at him...and then slumped back down in defeat when his supposed “friend” gave a heavy sigh and turned his attention back to his sword.

It went on this way for some time—Shanks continually poking and prodding, attempting to annoy Mihawk enough to coax him into a fight; and Mihawk persisting in the task of sword maintenance, running a whetstone across the already razor-sharp edge of the blade as he fought to keep his composure. The entire spectacle was rather like watching an excitable puppy yip at a surly cat.

You shifted your gaze to the edge of the nearby forest when Shanks looked over, the young captain waving once the rustling of the dense leaves gave way to a tall, broad-shouldered man in a black shirt, picking leaves out of his ponytail—no doubt Benn Beckman, from the description Garp had offered you. There was indeed a large rifle slung back across one of his shoulders, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. He glanced toward Mihawk, before stopping just short of his captain, looking down at him.

“Repairs are finished and the Log Pose’s set,” he said, his brow furrowing when Shanks frowned in clear disappointment. “We getting off of this rock or are you still antagonizing the current inhabitants?”

“I am visiting with a dear old friend,” said Shanks, giving an indignant huff and crossing his arms. He rolled his eyes back over to Mihawk. “Isn’t that right, Hawkie—?”

“Call me that again and you’ll be leaving this island wearing your entrails as necklace,” said Mihawk coolly.

“See?” said Shanks, gesturing toward Mihawk. “We’re just catching up on old times.”

Beckman stared down at his captain for a long moment, frowning, his cigarette smoldering at the corner of his mouth. He finally shook his head and stepped back a couple paces, leaning back against a pile of stones and crossing his arms. “Alright,” he said. “Have fun.”

“Oh, I am,” Shanks assured him with a positively gleeful grin. He rolled his shoulders and took a drink from the bottle of liquor clenched in his hand, his eyes drifting back over to Mihawk. “Well, it seems our all too pleasant reunion may be drawing to a close, Hawkie—”

Shanks’s grin only widened when Mihawk lifted his gaze to glare at him, his hand gripping tighter around the whetstone.

Shanks seemed to bite his tongue for a moment, pursing his lips to suppress his growing amusement at Mihawk’s growing annoyance, before his expression spread back into a grin as he lifted his eyebrows.

“How about a little kiss goodbye—y’know, between friends and all—”

“That’s it—”

Mihawk was on his feet in a flash, tossing the whetstone away.

Shanks was on his feet just as quickly, a look of absolute glee brightening his features as he drew his sabre.

Beckman took a few casual steps off to the side, pulling his cigarette down from his lips to flick the ashes away, shaking his head, his hand tightening around the butt of his rifle almost imperceptibly.

And you, in spite of yourself, let out a tiny squawk of alarm at the entire spectacle...and quickly realized your mistake.

While Mihawk surged forward with his blade drawn, while Beckman kept his sharp eyes flickering between him and his captain, Shanks’s gaze flickered over toward the sound you had just let out.

And his eyes widened the slightest bit as his eyes met yours.

And he lifted his sword to block what would have been a deadly blow from Mihawk as he continued staring at you as you froze in the windowsill, your feathers ruffling out the slightest bit in response to the terror dawning over you.

Beckman also followed his captain’s gaze, lifting an eyebrow as he noticed your presence.

Shanks drew in a sharp breath, his eyes growing even wider, wide as the eyes of a child with a bottomless wallet in a candy shop. One single, almost breathless word left his lips as they spread into a delighted smile:

“Parrot.”

Next chapter link again, for your convenience

First chapter link again, for your convenience

#one piece #opla #mihawk x reader #mihawk #dracule mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader #monkey d. garp #garp #bogard #red hair pirates #shanks #fan fiction #one piece fan fiction #fanfic #one piece fanfic #flightrisk

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