#this adds so much weight to everything LET ME BREATHE FOR A SEC

[chandralia]

“I feel relief when someone holds my hand”

[moonandsunwoo]

I’m glad you’re here. | JB

Besto friendo!Jacob x reader, comfort/angst, take notice of the triggerwarnings please.

warnings: s*lfh*rm-scars, being really really sad and feeling just goddamn awful, really.

I wrote this for me in the first place. I hope you can’t relate but if you do, I wish you all the love and strength in the world. You deserve it. Believe me. My inbox is always open for you. Take care, you’re so strong and I’m proud of you for making it so very far. Keep fighting and never be ashamed or scared of asking for help. We’ll make it through.

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“Hey did you- oh sorry...-oh...” Jacob who stumbled - or more like crashed into the room without any kind of warning - stopped dead on his tracks at the sight of you.

His eyes fell from your emotionless face to your exposed thighs, scarred skin peaking through under the fabric of one his shirts. You had been to slow to cover anything with your hand or the sheets and now he’d seen everything.

“D-did I what?” It was a weak attempt of yours to change the subject and turn the attention away from the elephant in the room, and it wasn’t very fruitful. Jacob swallowed dryly before carefully closing the door behind him.

He suddenly seemed paler than before, lips pressed together, jaw set. Without another word he dropped down on the bed next to you, eyes trained on his own hands who were fiddling with various rings.

“You’re...you okay if I like...hold you- or just your hand, for a sec or something?” It wasn’t more than a whisper yet you still heard it. You nodded shortly, letting your best friend scoot back until his back hit the wall behind him. You carefully leaned back against his chest, surprised by the prominent sound of his heart beating. His arm immediately wrapped tight around your shoulders, head resting against yours.

“What were you doing when I came in?” Jacob asked quietly, unsure of how to approach the whole situation. Or if to approach it. Maybe you didn’t wanted to, maybe-

You sighed softly, offering him your hand. He immediately intertwined his fingers of his free hand with yours, letting both drop into his lap.

“I was just...I wasn’t doing anything actually.” Jacob hesitated for a second before shaking his head.

“Do you wanna talk about it? Everything I mean.” You hesitated for a second. Did you really wanted to talk all about it with him? Burden him with your proble-

“You don’t have to. But if you decide to share it with me, I promise I will keep it to myself if you want that. Or I can...try to help, in whatever way you need it.” Jacob spoke slowly, softly and determined, as if he’d thought his words through thoroughly before saying them. “You know, sometimes doing as much as sharing it with someone helps take off the weight. It maybe...maybe it makes you feel weak in the second but it’s better than being all alone with it. Or that’s how it is for me.” You nodded slowly, still hesitant.

“I cannot describe to you how I feel Jacob. It’s...I can’t. I want to, but there are not enough words, not enough expressions for it.” Jacob nodded slowly.

“Would you want to draw it?” You looked up at him, surprised and confused.

“D-draw? And how?” Jacob shrugged lightly, reaching for his cellphone in his back pocket.

“On here. Maybe it helps you express yourself.” He opened an app, a swirl of colours in a wheel right next to a blank white canvas. Hesitatingly you let your finger brush across the smooth screen, scaling and toning the wheel until you created a deep, dark blueish grey shade. With a swipe of your finger the canvas was no longer a plain white surface.

Jacob just watched you, word- and motionless, watching you add layers of colour over layer.

First the dark blue-grey. It filled the whole canvas, a clean base for what was to follow.

He noticed a lot of black. Either your shading got very dark or you just straight up went for the bottom of them wheel.

Red and venomous green dots blossomed up across the picture, like flowers in the night. Black got ripped apart by strokes of white and yellow only to be scribbled over with grey and a sickishly gleaming purple. And then you’d pick the black back up and draw over it, again and again. Until you grew tired and stopped to stare. The screen was now all black.

You switched the phone off and handed it back to him, not knowing what to say.

“Thank you.” Was all Jacob whispered before pulling you closer, almost into his lap.

“I’m sorry...” Jacob shushed you with a little protesting huff, thumb sweeping over your knuckles.

“Don’t apologise please. I’m just...I’m grateful for you showing me how you feel...would you allow me to help you? If you want and feel comfortable.”

You said nothing for quite a while.

“I’m just so empty and yet so full, Cobie. I feel like I could burst but because of how void I feel.” Jacob nodded.

“I think I understand.” He took a deep breath.

“What now?”

You shrugged, resting comfortably against his chest, eyes closed. “I’m hungry.” Jacobs giggle made your whole body shake and it managed to curl the edges of your lips up too.

“Then why don’t we do something about that first.” You nodded, sitting up expectantly just to be pulled right back by Jacob.

“Huh?”

“Just a second, yeah?” You sank back against him, waiting for an explanation. “Just...just want to like, hold you a bit. That okay?”

“Well obviously. If you cook afterwards...” you were joking, obviously. Jacob could “just hold you a bit” for a whole week and you wouldn’t complain, and he knew that.

“Hey you? Thank you.” Jacob just hummed, resting his face in the crook of your neck.

“I’m proud of you. You’re stronger than you want to acknowledge. And I’m always here for you.” You nodded, feeling a wave of tiredness wash over you.

“Me too. Really.” The two of you sank into a comfortable silence, enjoying the bubble of peace and comfort the two of you had managed to build around yourself.

Until your stomach protested.

“That was loud. Food?” Jacob chuckled, lifting his chin from your shoulder.

You just grinned, getting up from the bed finally. Jacob tossed a pair of his comfy sweats into your direction, not even thinking twice about it. It made you smile a bit, and you bit your lips in an attempt to cover it when you reached for his hand he immediately offered after you slipped into the huge clothes.

“Whatcha smiling about?” He nudged friendly, walking you into the kitchen.

“You. I’m just glad you’re here Jacob.” He looked almost surprised at your words, immediately wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You missed the wet shimmer of his eyes when you scanned the Ramen options he had presented you, and you also missed the fond smile he gave you when you weren’t looking. You did however catch the happy quick of his lips when you finally tossed the ramen of your choice towards him.

“What’s it?”

“Nothing. I’m just also glad you’re here.”

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[renjiokumura]

Love?

Min Yoongi x Plus size reader

Disclaimer: Anything I write is purely fiction.

Tags: Angst, Established Relationship, and cursing.

Summary: Everyone has there limits and Y/N just found Yoongi’s. 

A/N: I write the reader pretty undescriptive. I tend to use female pronouns, so you’ll probably have to specifically ask me for something with male pronouns or gender neutral. But the reader can be any race you are and be related to the characters through adoption or whatever helps you move the story along. I want everyone to feel like they can read my writing.

The lights were flashing, blood was bumping, and the noises were deafening. There was a thin layer of sweat coating your body, and mixed with the hot lights shining upon you, you glowed. With poise, precision, and wild abandon, you hit every dance move and wreaked the stage. You commanded the stage with your wild energy and your fans loved it. You never thought in a million years you would be preforming as a musical artist, let a lone at MAMA as the opening act. But here you were rapping and singing your songs for your fans. Your new style was a diamond in the rough theme, with flashy accents here, grungy tones there, and punk black filling everywhere else. You are probably wondering how you got here, well it all started a little less than a year ago.

It had been two years into your relationship and on your end, it seemed like everything was going wonderfully in it, but you were very wrong.

You were a sweet doting girlfriend. Ever since you were a child you loved to care and help people as much as you could. That was sweet and all, but some people found that overbearing, that’s why you didn’t have too many friends growing up. You got better at reining it in enough to get a friend, but you still had your moments.

“Y/N, you know he’s busy, so give him some space. The boys will be there for him if something happens so calm down.” Your friend sighed, exasperated with you for staring at your phone instead of enjoying each other’s presence at your favorite café.

“I know, I know. But I still get worried and he hasn’t texted back for about a day and the longest he has ever not responded was an hour.” You looked up at you friend with pleading eyes, “He’s been doing this for a while now and I don’t know why.”

F/N abruptly stood up and snatched your phone out of your hand. “I’m doing this for your own good.” You were staring at her in complete shook as she sped walked out of the café.

“WAIT!” you said running after her. When you finally caught up with her you confronted her actions. “Why did you steal my phone and where are we going?” you asked out of breath.

She smirked looking at you, “Somewhere you can relax,” and looked forwards again walking with a purpose.

Back at the BTS dorm there was tension flowing rampantly. Yoongi had turned his phone off yesterday and it has been off since then. He was already irritated from the soon approaching comeback, and it would only get worst if he turned his phone back on.

It was a known fact that Yoongi was a patient, caring, and overall nice person. Don’t get me wrong, he did have a cold aura but underneath that was a very nice man. But everyone had their limits, and Yoongi was getting close to his.

He genuinely loved his girlfriend and was nothing but grateful of her caring and supporting nature, but it was driving him crazy at the moment.

Currently he was stressing over finishing the last track of their new album, when there was a knock at the door. “Come in,” he said not caring who it was.

Jimin poked his head in the door cautiously knowing that his hyung was in no mood for any unnecessary distractions. “Hyung,” he called out nervously, “There has been a change in the schedule today and they need us right now at the dance studio.”

The growl that came from the rapper after did not ease the unfortunate messenger of the bad news from his nervousness. Taking a few calming breaths Yoongi respond to Jimin.

“Ok. Tell them I’ll be ready in 10 minutes, okay?” he said tiredly to his dongsaeng.

Jimin gave him a faint smile and nod then left as quietly as he came.

Thinking this would be a good way to let out some tension he got ready to go to the dance studio, unfortunately it was everything but. On the drive to the studio, he was under the impression that they would make slight adjustments to the dance routines. Instead, when the boys arrived at the dance studio they found out that the choreographer changed about half of the whole dance.

And that isn’t even the worst of it. Yoongi was messing up almost all of the new moves, which resulted in them staying longer. It wasn’t until 4 hours later that the new dance was perfected. The boys left the dance studio at about 9:30 PM and they were exhausted, more stressed then before they got there, and starving. On the drive home some of them took a nap and some were too restless to even let their consciousness slip away and obviously Yoongi was one not taking a nap.

As the boys were making their way back, you were finishing up getting food for the guys, knowing they aren’t taking care of themselves because of the comeback. Not to long ago, you and F/N split ways after leaving a cool new karaoke place you had been dying to go to. On the short walk to the dorms, you were bubbling with excitement to see the boys, especially your boyfriend.

You truly did love him. He was your rock and you were his marshmallow. He made you feel so good about yourself when you were down about your weight and you made sure to be there for him when he needed some help. You guys just worked so well together.

The boys got back to the dorms a few minutes before you, and that was enough time for the storm to start and wreak havoc. As the boys left the car slightly dazed and confused, Yoongi left his phone in the car, but Jungkook noticed and got it.

“Yoongi-hyung,” he called as he walked in the house last.

Yoongi turned around wondering what the maknae wanted but froze a little seeing the younger boy turning on his phone.

“Here you know our higher ups don’t like us having our phones off. Be careful.” He playfully scolded with his bunny smile not knowing what he had truly done.

As soon as the phone was in Suga’s hand, it started blowing up with multiple texts, missed calls, and voicemail notifications. And that is when Min Yoongi finally reached his limit. Shouting curses, he threw his phone lucky missing any of the members and or walls in his anger driven actions.

“I’m sick and fucking tired of her bullshit!” he was pacing at this point wanting to break something but trying to channel his anger in to just shouting. All the other boys were a little terrified at the out burst and didn’t know what to do or what it was about.

“Fuck!” he was stopped facing the boys and unaware of the person who snuck in after Jungkook.

“I mean fucking hell! I can’t do anything without her worrying me with her worrying about me for 5 secs. She’s over bearing, overly sensitive, and just plain annoying. She has been blowing up my phone with constant texts and I’m reaching my wits end with Y/N.” He finally finished his anger fueled confession, not knowing that the last person he wanted to hear it heard every word.

You couldn’t believe you ears. During his whole outburst, you were in the kitchen.  You were about to fix him a plate of food from the dinner you had brought him and the boys but were stopped by the loud volume of his voice. You knew you could be a little much and you came to terms with that even tried to fix it but hearing that the love of your life couldn’t even handle you really hurt.

Your body was visibly shaking with all the emotions running through you, but the most overpowering emotion was heartbreak. Silent tears fell from your eyes and they wouldn’t stop coming. Amazingly you were able to quietly make your way out of the house without being notice. As soon as you were out in the cold with only yourself and your thoughts, you cried hysterically and ran all the way home, running like you never have before.

Meanwhile back at the dorm, Taehyung had caught a waft, during Yoongi’s explosion of angry words, of delicious food. When Yoongi had settled down a little, the vocalist went to find out what the source of the smell was and left towards the kitchen. With Tae’s sudden movement, everyone broke from their stunned states noticing the smell of food and were soon following in behind him, even Yoongi.

Upon arriving to the kitchen, the boys found a big feast packed in multiple containers filled with their favorite foods. They all were confused on where it had come from. On closer inspection they noticed a uncomplete plate filled with some of Yoongi’s favorite foods and all came to the same realization.

“Fuck,” the oldest rapper cursed under his breath. Before anyone could make a move, in the silence, a single text notification was heard that made Yoongi’s blood run cold. Slowly grabbing his phone like it would bite him if he touched it. He unlocked it and saw the last text he would get from her for a long time.

My Love: Enjoy the food. I hope you guys have an amazing comeback. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be a bother. I promise I won’t anymore.

A/N: I might add more to this but I’m not sure. I just want to get some of my WIPs out there.

[reawritesthings]

Desert Moon | JJ Maybank

gif by @toesure 

summary: As things were smooth sailing since the night you met JJ on the roof, there was no escaping the rival between Pogue V Kook.

warnings: swearing 

note: since everyone has been waiting for a part two of rooftop, i finally managed to figure out a perfect ending to this one shot. let me know what you think :) 

read rooftop first | main masterlist | add urself to my taglist

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Stealthily, JJ greeted himself into the back lawn of the house. He stood underneath the rose archway to avoid being seen by your mother who always strictly baked a batch of cookies at this given hour. He hears Topper's whiny voice loud and clear, but immediately melted away when a sweet melody escape your own mouth making JJ swoon with admiration. He darted his eyes at the roof where your bedroom window was stationed, it was open ajar which JJ thanked due to his last encounter with the roof.

When the shadows of your family washed away, JJ knew it was his time to put his Pogue skills to the test. He stably made his body onto the roof, latching on the tiles as he hoisted his body weight up. When JJ finally came into contact with your window, he poked his leg through the entrance sliding his body through hoping to be greeted by you.

"Babe? You alive?" JJ whispered whilst he chucked his boots off letting his muddy socks dissolve into the warmth of your pressed carpet.

"I'll be out in a second." You shouted from the ensuite, wrapping a towel around your body. JJ heard the knob turn smirking wide as he knew you took a shower before he arrived.

"Are you just going to stand there? Aren't you going to give your Romeo a hug?"

You nodded, running to his embrace. He let his arms wrap around your frame, pulling you into his chest as he brushed his thumb over the back of your neck. "You smell nice."

"Thanks. I needed to wash away Topper's smell of alcohol and drugs."

JJ chuckled, kissing the top of your head. "I should be dating your brother. He is more up my street."

You pulled away from his embrace causing JJ to whine wanting you close to him. "I'm kidding, baby. Are you going to come to the Kegger tonight?"

"Nope. You know I can't come."

JJ frowned but followed you towards your bed, watching you change into a loose t-shirt he gave you. "Why? We don't have to even stay long... pretty please."

You giggled, snatching the comb from your dresser. "You know Topper will be there and he can't know that I'm dating you JJ. He will kill you."

"I'm not scared of him, Y/N."

You repeated the motion to comb the knots out of your hair, walking towards him. "As much as I believe you, I can't let him hurt you."

"He won't lay a finger on me. He knows not to cross me." JJ confronted, causally moving the comb away from your hair. "I just want to show my girl off."

You stared at him for a moment, admire his indigo darts as you moved closer to him. JJ stands there offering you a simple smile watching you lean your forehead on his. You both closed your eyes, letting the fear and excitement take over you.

"Thank you." You barley say in a whisper.

"For?" He replies, his voice low and husky.

"Being the best boyfriend ever and making me happy." Your voice wavers, leaning in and began to kiss his lips. JJ cupped your cheek, gently caressing your neck with his thumb as the kiss drastically became more fiery and passionate. Your hands roamed his body, feeling his muscles tense as you did that thing he liked with your tongue. JJ indicates your body towards the bed, letting you fall gently as he ventures over your body. You pull away, breathing heavily as you stare into his lustful eyes. No words were exchanged but JJ's eyes were detailed with love and yours were filled with passion. He leaned in again but aiming his lips onto your neck letting you whimper out the anticipation of what could come next. You were ready for JJ to undress you, ready for him to feel you but the vibration from his pocket stopped him from doing so.

"I-Sorry. One sec."

You chuckled, allowing him to check his phone. "Who is it?"

"Pope. He said that John B  is in trouble. I gotta go help him." JJ rambled, taking his body off yours making his way to put his shoes back on.

"Do you want me to come? I can come." You asked, lifting your body up watching JJ tie his shoes up.

"No baby. It's fine. I'll be here later to cuddle you, okay? Promise me you won't come after me." JJ pleaded, giving you one final kiss.

"I promise."

JJ quickly pecked your cheek, before he fumbled out of your window and slid down the roof to make sure he got a safe landing. You watch him run into the twilight, signing at how being with a Pogue always comes with abrupt messages and dangerous nights that JJ always has to dive into.

The night was getting colder and the mechanical sound coming from your clock made the wait time frustrating. You checked your phone and nothing new was shown; just a warning that a hurricane was approaching. You suddenly heard noises from the backyard, inching a smile as you thought JJ was here but he wasn't. It was your brother, shaking like mad as Rafe guided him towards the kitchen. You slowly crept out of your room, rolling over towards the banister to try and get the scoop of what happened. When Rafe's threat mentioned the word, pogue you darted towards your room to alert JJ.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." JJ yelled, tearing the chateau piece by piece to try and find his missing gun. "Where is it, Pope?"

Pope didn't quite understand what was happening so he shot Kiara a look but, she wasn't even paying attention.

"I lost the gun. I lost the fucking gun. I can't find it anywhere." JJ panicked, gripping his hair tightly. That was his only protection, and he managed to lose that.

"I'm sure it's at the beach. I don't even remember you picking it up, JJ." Pope stated, trying to retrace the moments of the scene but the sound of John B screams, and Topper's frantic breathing made Pope panic even more.

"I need to find that gun. It's all I hav-" JJ's words got interrupted by a loud noise coming from his phone. "Fuck, it's Y/N... Do I answer?"

Kiara nodded, "You have too. Topper probably came back home...Go to her and make sure she knows nothing. We will look for the gun."

JJ nodded, running up to Kie as he gave her a tight squeeze. "Love you." Kiara slapped his hand playfully. "Go to her."

JJ never or knew that he could run this fast, he was dodging every light, sliding pass serval cars, and fell a couple of times. He eventually climbed onto the roof, not caring about the freshly new cut that bleeds onto his skin. His fist revealed a hard knock to your window that woke you from a daydream.

"JJ. Where were you? I was worried sick about you." You hiccuped, signing in relief that he was well.

"I just had to clear things up. I'm here now, baby. I'm all good." He reassured you with a tight hug and a light kiss to your forehead. He didn't want to let you go, as the guilt was eating him alive. He didn't even want to express or tell you what happened knowing you wouldn't look at him the same as you did before.

"Is John B okay? Is everything okay?" You asked and JJ hushed you.

"Everything is okay. How about we get some sleep?" JJ hoisting you up, bringing the both of you to the bed. He slowly laid you down, admiring the t-shirt once again that fit perfectly on your body.

"God. You are so beautiful." JJ breathed, jumping on the other side of your bed.

"JJ, did anything happen between the pogues and my brother?"

JJ glued his eyes shut. He hated lying, especially to you. "Nope. Probably just a miss understanding."

You didn't respond.

"Hey, um can I ask you something?"

You turned your body to face his, brushing the hair away from his face. "Anything"

"No matter what happens you will always believe me right? You wouldn't think of me any different? Or, ever break up with me?"

You gave him a discombobulated look, trying to voice in answering his bizarre questions. "Nothing could ever make me think less of you. I love you, JJ."

That's all JJ needed to hear before he wrapped you close to his chest. You snuggled close to him as you heard his heartbeat mellow a little when you heard soft snores coming from his nose. Your eyes began to flicker finally allowing your body to rest for the night. 

- 

"Y/N, are you even listening to me?" Topper yelled from the other side of the island. He was firing harsh bullets to your heard, filling you in with the events that happened last night. You didn't want to believe him, you knew JJ, he wouldn't do something like this.

"Let me spell it out for you. Your psycho boyfriend put a gun to my fucking head. He tried to kill me." Topper emphasis the word kill, letting it linger in your brain.

"I don't believe you. JJ wouldn't do that." You defended him, you always did and will.

"He tried too kill me. Ask Kelce or Rafe."

You shook your head, you didn't believe him. "I want proof."

Topper smirked, tossing his phone towards you. "You know how to play a video, play it."

You didn't want too. You didn't want to believe him but the sounds of your boyfriend voice clarified everything. You stared at the phone, listening and watching the clip over and over again thinking it will go away but it just got worse. "That's the JJ who you are sneaking around with." "You must of provoked him. H-He wouldn't do it for a random reason." You hiccuped, throwing his phone back to him.

"Invite him over. If you really don't believe."

"I will."

You: Come over later?

JJ: You got it baby

As you were about to lock your phone, Topper twirled around and walked up to you.

"Oh and Y/N. Show him this... he was probably looking for it." Topper handed you a bag, which you immediately opened revealing a gun.

- 

"Hey, babe. Sorry, I had trouble with getting up on the roof. You really need to get that fixed..." JJ rambled, climbing into your window. He noticed that you weren't in your room, which was strange as you texted him to meet.

"Babe?" He called again, checking to see if you were in the bathroom.

You emerged into the light, your body was trembling as you held the gun tightly in the pocket of your jumper. JJ walked towards you but stopped abruptly when you pulled the gun out. He eyed the object that you invited into the light, confused into how you managed to get his missing gun. JJ felt the lump in his throat thicken when he heard the gun rattle in your grip.

"Where did you get that...?"

You froze, "T-This is yours?"

JJ moved closer, attaching his hand onto yours as he retrieved the gun from you.

"W-Why didn't you tell me?" You said quietly, hating how your body obeyed his touch.

JJ brushed his soiled-chipped thumb across the roughness of the object like it was meant to be in his touch. "I was going to."

You shook your head, "Why didn't you tell me when it happened?"

"I couldn't."

You glued your eyes shut, forcing the tear to drown your rouge cheek. You snitched your back but the shakes vibrating around your body attacked you into asking the question you didn't want to ask. "Did you try to kill my brother?"

JJ's shaky breath drastically changed into a wash of anger that he vowed to never show you. "He was going to kill John B. Was I suppose to just let him?"

You wanted to wrap his body into your own, you wanted to melt into his skin and allow him to trace kisses over your face as you giggled for him to stop. But, that wasn't the JJ you saw standing in front of you. It was someone you were warned about in many stories that your father told you to never trust. "You weren’t supposed to do this. Not even a Kook would have done that."

"You think I had a cho-"

"There's always a choice, JJ." You asserted but regretted instantly as you knew that JJ never listened.

JJ held onto his breath, stimulating the tears that escaped his azure mess. He was guilty, it was even shown as soon as his hand reacted to the gun. Holding it like he held you, clarifying to everyone around him that it was safe and no harm would be done.

"I can't do the things you can, Y/N. I'm not a Kook, I'm a Pogue with two sets of boxers. I know a Kook wouldn't have done it. They would have probably got the police involved or their parents but, I don't have that. I barely have a family, Y/N. John B is my only family and we aren't even blood-related." JJ whispered into the air. "I made a mistake. Christ, Y/N. I'm a fucking human and I was protecting my brother."

"So, you had to do it?"

"Y/N, he was going to kill him."

"But, the way it happened... Did you really need to use a gun? Did you really not think of any other way? It seems like you wanted this, like you wanted to hurt my brother."

You saw the bewildered look on his face. "What are you talking about? I didn't have a fucking choice, Y/N."

Your tears welled up with sadness that no teenager should ever possess. You couldn't even fumble the words to respond to his statement. Your mind replayed the video, forcing you to hear the cries coming from your brother and the threats falling out of JJ's mouth. "All those times, those times where he would rally you boys up. You didn't pull a gun to his head, JJ. You let it go." 

"You d-don't believe me do you?" JJ squeaked finally having the strength to look into your eyes.

"I want to, JJ."

JJ moved closer, "So, believe me..." He inched a little closer, but you stayed in gear. "Say you believe me, Y/N." He was an inch away from you, but your body didn't react like it did yesterday. It wasn't leaping into his embrace. It was frozen solid like the gun that was still safely tucked in his hand.

"T-Tell me how I fix this..?" He sobbed. "Tell me and I'll do it."

You let one final breath escape your runny nostrils, itching for your body to react, or even do anything. "G-Go. I just, go JJ."

He didn't listen. He already allowed the tears to freely drown him. His weeping was like an open wound. JJ clasped tightly onto the gun as his body shook. The sobs were stifled at first as he attempted to hide his vulnerable side but you broke that the minute he saw you hold the gun; his gun. He turned his body to face your window, looking directly at the moon that brought him to you six months ago. When he, at last, turned to face you, he only saw a picture of someone he lost. He knew exactly the type as that was the same image he had left of his mother. It was the face that made your body adjust and walked towards him. The vulnerability he effortlessly showed you made you want to cuddle him, whisper that it will be okay but, it wasn't your job anymore.

"I love you, Y/N." He finally said, letting the moon drag his body out of your window as the light possessed him to not turn back. You saw his shadow leave but his presence was still there, mourning for you to rescue him but it wasn't a stitch-up situation. Your body collapsed onto the carpet where a silhouette of JJ's dirty combat boots was printed. As the last pear-shaped tear left your eyes, the moon finally shone a different way allowing you to not be reminded of the print of his shoe or the presence of his body. You grieved throughout the night, gripping onto the covers as the twilight blue vanished and a set of orange hues blinded you to make you witness a new day.

JJ's body awoke when the light stung his eyes that forced his body to react with pain that you gifted him with. He didn't dare to wake up the others as he couldn't let them see him like this. He never came home broken or rallied them with events that only he was casted in. He usually told the alcohol but, he couldn't even face the disappointment of the liquor dripping down his throat.

"Has anyone seen m- JJ? Are you good, bro?" John B rubbed his thick curly hair, still adjusting to the heavy rays of light that shined in his living room.

JJ forced his body to face John B's. He made a sudden movement that awoke Pope.

"What is going on?" Pope asked rubbing his hands onto his eyes to remove the sleep. 

John B shrugged, "Ask JJ. He looks like he has seen a ghost."

"T-this is your fault," JJ whispered. John B titled his head, knowing full well that he heard something escape from JJ's lips.

"What did you say?"

JJ tucked his hand into a fist colliding his arm with the lamp. "I said, this is your fault."

Pope jumped out of his skin, quickly removing his body from the broken scene. "Dude what are you doing?"

John B knew something happened. His brotherly instincts alerted him when JJ carelessly began to throw every little item that stood in his way.

"You know it wasn't my fault. Topper was trying to drown me."

JJ let out a devilish giggle, "You just had to provoke him, didn't you? You knew I was dating his sister. You knew that I would do anything to protect you so you kept winding him up."

"He was trying to get with Sarah. My Sarah." John B yelled, grabbing the nearest object he could find to defend himself. After the events that happened last night, John B was starting to feel a void in JJ.

"This bitch has brought nothing but harm to us. She is always the priority, she always has to come first." JJ spat, looking at a recent photograph that was neatly framed on the counter.

"If it wasn't for her you wouldn't have even met Y/N. So, you should be thanking her." John B stated but JJ knew, he knew that he would have met Y/N one way or another.

"She fucking hates me, John B. She can't even look at me." JJ screamed, tears flooding his skin once again.

"I didn't ask you to put a gun to his head. That was on you."

JJ dropped his body onto the floor, witnessing the mess that he created. "I've lost the one good thing in my life because you wanted to act all tough. I lost her and, I can't get her back."

Pope being the silent force ran to JJ's fragile body, letting JJ fall back on him while Pope wrapped his body tight in his grip. "She will come around, JJ."

"S-She can't even look at me." JJ sobbed into his Pope's chest, clenching onto his t-shirt for support. Pope maneuvered his head to lock with John B's eyes, gulping his spit as he heard JJ's cries.

John B places the bat onto the table, sliding his body over to Pope's cupping the two boys into his own. "We will fix this, okay?. I'll get Sarah to talk to her.."

JJ nodded sniffling and rubbing his snort over Pope's work shirt.

"Dry cleaning is going to have a field day" Pope muttered under his breath.

"W-What do I do? I need her. I really need her."

Pope gently placed his chin on JJ's clotted hair, unsure in how to answer this question. They held him for a moment, allowing his vulnerability rage the room. A sudden wind tore the boys apart, making John B's head turn towards the door to face the intruder.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" John B asked, not evening thinking twice to let her in.

"I n-need JJ to show me how to use a gun."

Pope's eyes widened with shock, unleashing JJ from his embrace. "Come again."

"I want JJ to show me how to aim and shoot." You stated, this time you didn't stutter. "I haven't got time to play Dr. Phill. I need to know how."

JJ reframed his body, handling his hand onto the countertop to lift his body up. He didn't even believe he would ever hear you say those exact words, or even come here again.

"Y/N... I'm sorry...." JJ chocked out.

"I know. Can you show me how to use a gun?"

JJ didn't understand what he was seeing. He wanted to pour his heart out to you but the sudden shift in your eyes made him question the motive. "Why do you need to use a gun?"

"I need to make sure that my boyfriend or his friends don't get harassed again."

Pope shook his head, crawling away from the craziness that just entered the room. He didn't or think that someone liked you wanted to turn rouge. On the other hand, John B didn't even begin to process what was happening in his own home, he just let it happen like he does with everything.

"When do you wanna start?" JJ asked, walking up to you.

Pope waved his hand drastically in JJ's face, splitting the two apart. "Why are you encouraging this? Please don't turn her into a Bonnie, we prefer her as the sweet magnolia."

You revealed a slight smirk onto your lips. "Exactly. You can use my sweet ass to scary the Kooks away."

Pope wasn't following. "You want JJ to teach you to hold a gun so you can scare your brother and his friends away?"

You nodded, "It's not that hard Pope. It's like a movie we once saw once."

Pope pleaded his gaze to find John B's who was occupied with a bottle of beer. "Y'all people are crazy. How are you okay with this? I need new friends."

JJ rolled his eyes at his frantic friend, pushing him into a tight embrace. "When do you wanna start, magnolia?"

"Right now."

✰✰✰✰

tags: @x-lulu @juliarose21 @softstarkey @ilovejjmaybank @outrbanxs @koufaxx @curlybrownhairedboys @tempestuousjj @judayyyw @maybanksbaby @obx-direction-sos @madeinthemidnightmemories @brithedemonspawn @natalie-kate-98 @outerbankslut @strangerthanfanfiction713 @isntmadrid @teenwaywardasgardian @outerbanksbro @lovegroves @babyybesson @no-trespassing-mtz @abbiesthings @obx-snippets @mya-bleu @imagines-r-s @butgilinsky @prkerspogue @starksweasley @simpforstarkey @downbytheouterbanks @hyperactive2411 @outrbanks @brithedemonspawn @peachydrews @stfukie @i-love-scott-mccall @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @ameeravandijk @pogueszn @etherealtony @idocarealot @katiaw2 @woohoodolan @astrologics @themakofalltrades @ad-infinitums @starkeybabie @modernstorybook @nearlydanger9 @perkeusjackson​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @kennedywxlsh​ @dpaccione​ @sportygal55​ 

[nhlandotherimagines]

Family isn’t Always Blood-Part 3

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 |

Summary: will it be a boy? A girl? Will Kinsey and Elias be able to plan a wedding while expecting? Guess you’ll have to find out.

Author’s Notes: This took me WAY too long I’m sorry! Let me know what you think though? Was it what you expected? Was it bad? Good? I’d love to hear from you :)

Word Count: approx. 4.5k

Warnings: The usual really. Lots of crying (both happy and sad tears), pregnancy, absent parents, strong language, nothing too crazy though. Let me know if there is anything I should add here please

3…

2…

1!

Elias’ fingers find the zipper on the garment bag, and I place my hand gently over his. His hand shakes under mine, and although I know it’s mostly excitement, I can tell he's nervous as we slowly pull down the zipper together.

As the garment bag falls away, my heart stops. There is no way this is happening, not right now! Elias’ hand drops from mine as he steps back slightly, as the people around me seem to let out a collective gasp. Tears burn my eyes, and before I can stop them, they’re falling down my face. This is NOT what I expected.

“Kinsey?” Elias’ voice is nervous, likely because I’ve yet to react to the scene in front of me. The jersey was not pink, or blue. In fact it wasn’t even a jersey at all. In place of the jersey we had all been anticipating, was a white onesie with red lettering across the front. 

My hands at some point made their way to my face as I’m now using them to hold in the ugly sobs wracking my body. The tears in my eyes blurring the words in front of me, but it doesn’t matter, because I’ll never forget them. I’ll never unsee them. The five words that changed my life. 

WILL YOU MARRY MY DADDY?

“Baby, turn around. Please?” Elias' voice is gentle when he speaks, but it sounds loud in the intense silence that has settled over everyone.

I slowly turn around, my knees feel weak, my vision is blurred, and my entire body is trembling. It’s a miracle I’m still standing, and even breathing for that matter. When I’ve finally turned around completely, my whole world stops. Elias slowly drops down on one knee, and as he looks up at me with those beautiful blue eyes no one else is here. It’s just him and I at this moment. A nervous smile on his face as he slowly pulls open the velvet box I hadn’t even noticed until now, I lose it. I collapse to my knees in front of him, arms wrapping tightly around his neck and as I cry into his shoulder.

“Last time I checked I’m the only one supposed to be on their knee for this.” Elias chuckles, and the room around us does the same, reminding me we aren’t alone. I lean back to look at him, but don’t let go. His face is blotchy, and his eyes are bloodshot as tears stream silently down his face. “Kins, you amaze me more and more each day. You’re an amazing woman, girlfriend, mother, and there is absolutely no question that you’d make the best wife. So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to make you mine. Kinsey Waters, will you marry me?”

“R-really?” The word is choked out in between breaths, as I search his face for hesitation.

“Yes!” He chuckles, lifting the ring up in front of my face. He shakes it teasingly, eyebrows raising as if to say ‘would I be lying?’.

“Yes.” The word tumbles past my lips, and I can’t stop it. Not that I want to. “Oh my god! Yes!” The squeal that escapes me is quickly drowned out by the cheers surrounding me, as I gather Elias’ face in my hands and crash my lips to his.

I cling to Elias like I don’t want to let go, grasping at his shirt, his hair, anything to ground myself. The kiss, the moment, this man; it’s all so overwhelming. I never want it to end. 

As it turns out, not everyone is on board with that. “Okay! Okay! That’s enough, can we please find out about the baby. There will be time to fornicate after we’re all gone!” Brock yells from behind the camera, as more laughter fills the apartment.

Elias groans in response, but pulls away. I smile brightly as he slips the ring onto my finger, and for the first time I actually look at the ring. It’s simple, not too flashy, and yet I know if I saw the receipt I’d likely vomit at the price tag. It’s elegant. It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of and so much more. “It’s perfect.” I breathe out, and Elias chuckles. Bringing my hand to his lips he places a gentle kiss to my knuckles before rising to his feet, helping me off the floor in the process.

“Please tell me you have the actual jersey somewhere.” I giggle, catching Brock tapping his foot impatiently out of the corner of my eye.

“I do, one sec!” Elias quickly leaves the room, and I’m immediately swarmed by the other WAGs and Brock. Brock is quick to zoom in on the ring with the camera, as he makes commentary that is definitely not needed, but something Elias and I will both enjoy when we watch the recording back later.

“Okay! ” Elias announces, as he makes his way back into the room. “Are you ready for the real thing?” He’s now holding an identical garment bag to the one we had unzipped minutes prior, and I can’t help but wonder just how difficult this whole surprise was to pull off.

Elias removes the first hanger from the stall, and replaces it with the new garment bag. He motions me over, a large grin on his face, as everyone goes back to where they had previously been standing.

Elias’ hand finds mine again, as we both grip the tiny zipper. It feels different this time. Maybe it’s the ring sitting on my finger, or maybe it’s just the adrenaline coursing through my veins. As the countdown begins around us for the second time today, I become more and more impatient.

3…

2…

1! 

My stomach flutters, and I can’t bring myself to look as Elias’ hand moves with my own to pull down the zipper. Instead I watch him. His eyes bright as they seemingly shimmer with excitement. He’s so beautiful, and he’s mine. My fiancé, and the father of my child. The new weight on my ring finger, and my round stomach physical proof of just that. 

Almost instantaneously, I feel his hand fall from mine and it finds his face, along with the other. He falls again to one knee, but this time he cries into his hands as everyone around us erupts into cheers. The moment feels absolutely surreal, and overwhelming, and I have yet to even look at the tiny jersey in the garment bag. It doesn’t feel like it matters, not in this moment anyway. The only things that matter are that we are happy, life is good, it’s pink, and we are a family. It’s pink.

Immediately my eyes snap back to the now open garment bag that my eyes had previously skipped over. The tiny jersey hanging before me was a tiny replica of the one I was wearing. It’s pink alright. It’s a girl.

As I turn back to Elias, his arms wrap around my waist as he begins whispering against my stomach. Again, all of his words muttered in Swedish. All I can make out is ‘I love you”, and ‘my girls’, and even without understanding any of the other words, my heart swells and tears wet my cheeks again.

I card my fingers through his hair, the beautiful ring standing out even more against the blonde. Cameras and flashes, along with many cheers and exclamations of ‘I knew it!’, fill both the room and my heart. This is it, the family I’ve always craved. Although it may not be conventional, it’s mine. 

———

The movie Elias is playing on the tv does little to hold my attention. Not even because it’s bad, in fact it’s one of my favourites, but my head is all over the place today. 

“Everything okay love?” Elias asks, eyebrows furrowed in worry when I look at him. I nod, but it’s evidently not enough for him to believe me. “Talk to me Kins.” He continues, pressing pause on the movie, removing my only form of distraction.

“She doesn’t have a name.” I’m deflecting, and Elias knows it. Instead of pressing the issue further though, he smiles sweetly over at me. I’m stretched out comfortably across the majority of the couch, my legs draping across his lap. His hand lightly rubs my thigh in comfort. 

“Well did you have any in mind?” I shake my head stretching my hands over my growing bump, my ring on full display. Elias clears his throat, and I can tell he wants to say something, but he looks nervous. “What about your mom?”

“What about her?” My response is unnecessarily rude, but his question caught me completely off guard. He’s been trying for months to get me to talk about her, and I’ve successfully shut him down every time.

“Did you maybe want to incorporate her name?” His eyes refuse to meet my own, instead they stay fixed on his fingers that are busying themselves with the hem of my sweats. The scoff that leaves my mouth is dramatic, sure, but I’m beyond pissed he’d even make that suggestion.

“Why would I? She’s done nothing for me.” 

Elias’ face falls, and his eyes meet mine. The look of pity he sends me would normally make me feel better, but today it makes me even more angry. “I’m sorry, I just thought-“

“Yeah well you thought wrong didn’t you!” I snap, cutting him off as I rise to my feet. I stand up too quickly, and immediately I feel light headed. My knees buckle a bit, and my vision goes fuzzy momentarily. Elias is quick to his feet, hands finding my waist to steady me. 

Once my vision is back, and I feel steady again, I push away from Elias. He calls after me, but I just keep walking. 

It’s not his fault, and I’m being dramatic. As soon as I step into our shared room, I know I’m out of line. It’s embarrassing, my whole life is. How can I tell someone, like Elias, who loves their mom dearly, that when I think of the woman who gave birth to me, the thoughts aren’t pleasant. Very little about my childhood was. Yes, I sound ungrateful, and to a degree I am. There were always good times, always. However it’s hard to look back fondly on those times, when almost all of them are plagued with heartbreak or disappointment in some form or another. 

As I close the bedroom door behind me angrily, I pull off my sweats and crawl into the empty bed. Though I’ve slept without Elias many nights given his schedule, the bed has never felt so lonely. Tears soak my pillowcase, but my body barely even reacts. No dramatic sobbing, or trembling. I just lay here, numb, tears flowing steadily.

After what felt like forever, but was likely only a few minutes, the bedroom door creaks open. I don’t dare to acknowledge Elias as he closes the door behind him quietly. I lay silently, my back to him, as he removes his shirt. The covers pull back, and I feel the bed dip as he climbs in behind me.

We both lay there silently for a moment, neither of us moving. Only a few inches separate us, but they feel like miles. I can’t take the silence, or the fact that I can practically hear the gears turning in my fiancé’s head.

“I’m sorry.” I mumble, sniffling slightly. Elias lets out a breath, before wrapping himself around me. He places a gentle kiss to my head, letting his hand travel under my shirt to rest on my bare stomach.

“Me too.” He whispers into my hair. “I should’ve known, I just thought because it was a tradition, that maybe you’d want to. I didn’t mean to upset you Kins. I’m really sorry.” His voice shakes a little, but he takes a breath again to steady himself before adding, “I love you.”

Before I can even respond to him, it hits me. I sit up quickly, and Elias’ arm falls into my lap. He pushes himself up on his elbows, eyes widening with concern. “Adeline.”

“What?” He is obviously confused, and I can’t blame him. I just ignored his entire apology to blurt out some random name.

“Adeline Irene Pettersson. Addy for short.” I pause, suddenly feeling embarrassed by my wave of excitement. “I don’t know. What do you think?” I pray the nerves aren’t apparent in my voice. Picking a name for a person is a big deal, it has to be perfect.

“Adeline.” Elias repeats the name out loud thoughtfully. The name rolls off of his tongue beautifully, and I can’t fight the smile growing on my face. “Kinsey, I think it’s perfect.”

Elias rolls onto my legs, his face resting just in front of my stomach. I lean back, and run a hand through his hair. 

Placing soft kisses to my stomach, Elias once again whispers to the baby. “Adeline, you have the most amazing momma. She loves you so much. Probably more than she loves me, and that’s a lot.” I can’t help but giggle softly at his words, despite the tears in my eyes. “You’re so loved, and we cannot wait to meet you.”

I smile down at Elias, a single tear slipping down my face. He returns the smile, but it quickly falls as my eyes widen in shock. “She’s kicking!” I practically scream, grabbing Elias’ wrist, bringing his hand over to where I had just felt our daughter kick. He waits hopefully for more movement. 

Moments pass, and still nothing. “C’mon Addy, do it for daddy.” I plead, my heart breaking at the disappointment on Elias’ face.

As if she had actually understood the task she’d been given, the baby kicks even harder than before. Her foot jams hard into my stomach, right against her father’s waiting palm. The feeling, although still relatively new for me, was an entirely new experience for him. His eyes nearly pop out of his head, jaw practically hitting the floor. 

“A daddy’s girl already?” I giggle, another tear slipping down my cheek. “There is no hope for me now.”

Elias shakes his head, and glances up at me briefly. His eyes find mine for just a second, with a smile on his face he looks back at my stomach. “You’re not going to be a daddy’s girl or a momma’s girl are you Addy?” He whispers, as the baby kicks again as if in response to his question. “You’re gonna be your own girl. Strong and independent, just like your momma.”

Elias fell asleep like that a while later. Head resting on my hip, a hand on my stomach, while my hands threaded through his soft hair. Life is good. I have a family now, and I would do anything for either of them. “I will make sure you never question my love for you both. No one deserves that.” I whisper before drifting to sleep myself.

———

“Shit!” Something hitting the floor loudly, followed immediately by Elias cursing wakes me. I’m quickly on my feet and rushing down the hall. I had been asleep on the couch, having passed out while reading some parenting book. So, when I round the corner into our bedroom, I’m confused to find it lacking my fiancé’s presence.

“Elias? Where are you?” I call out, fear lacing my words. 

“I’m in here sweetheart.” He calls back. I follow his voice further down the hall to the guest room.

As I reach the doorway of the guest room, the scene in front of me has a giggle bubbling up my throat. Elias is on the floor, surrounded by various tools and wooden pieces, a frustrated, and thoroughly exhausted look painting his face. “Everything okay in here?”

“Wha- oh yeah.” He huffs, tucking a pencil behind his ear. He’s holding two identical pieces of wood in either hand, letting out another noise of frustration. 

“Whatcha doing?” I place the back of my hand over my mouth trying to suppress my laughter, though my smile is audible in my words.

“Well.” He groans, placing both pieces down before pulling himself to his feet. “The plan was to have the crib together before you woke up from your nap.” He walks to me placing his hands softly on my hips. “Though, as you can see, that hasn’t happened.”

“Well the instructions can’t be that confusing are they?” I smile, and his face falls slightly. “You did use the instructions. Right?” Elias’ cheeks darken, and his eyes fall to his feet. 

“I thought I could do it on my own.” He mumbles, and there is no stopping my laugh now. He frowns in embarrassment, as I do my best to catch my breath. 

“Babe! The instructions don’t do it for you, they are a guideline for you to do it. On your own.” I explain shaking my head with a giggle, and pushing past him into the room. I quickly find the instructions crumpled into a ball on the floor. I unfold it, and read through it quickly. 

“Well?” His voice hopeful, as he watches me inspect the now crinkled paper. 

“Yeah I have no idea.” I sigh, leaning against the wall. “Time to call in the boys I think.”

———

“Who thought it was wise to let the three of you do this?” I giggle, placing three beer down on the dresser.

“You?” Quinn answers, eyebrows furrowed in confusion while Elias sends me a glare. 

“Oh right. Well I’ll just blame my poor judgement on the pregnancy.” 

Elias is obviously getting quite flustered about the whole process. He curses in Swedish, while poor Quinn sits beside him looking scared for his life. Brock finally finishes screwing two pieces together, and beams over at me before grabbing a beer. “Thanks Kins!”

“You’re very welcome Brock.” I place a hand on my stomach and make a point of talking dramatically. “See Addy? That’s why uncle Brock is our favourite.” 

“Addy?” Quinn and Brock both ask in unison. 

“Adeline. Addy for short.” Elias explains, with a smile bright enough to blind someone.

“What do you guys think?” I ask, pulling my lip between my teeth. Sure, we don’t need anyone’s approval, but their opinions are very important to both Elias and myself.

“It’s cute!” Quinn smiles at me.

“Cute?” Brock sends Quinn a look I could only describe as a mix between shock and disappointment. My heart rate increases. Great Brock hates it! “It's absolutely beautiful!”

The sigh of relief that leaves my body has all three men laughing. I can’t help but join in, as the three of them begin bickering over the next step in the crib building process. They are always so chaotic, and yet I love every second of the chaos. This baby will likely learn all kinds of trouble from Brock and Quinn, but I certainly wouldn’t want it any other way.

———

As my pregnancy progresses, Elias becomes more and more doting almost daily. Not letting me lift anything bigger than a book, tying my shoes, helping me get dressed, you name it and he’s done it. Honestly, it’s become slightly annoying. On nights like this though, I truly appreciate it. 

Elias sits on one end of the couch, as I lay across its length, my feet in his lap. He rubs the balls of my feet, as I write in the wedding planner he’d purchased not long after our engagement. He smiles softly at me, as I chew the end of my pen deep in thought as I stare at the guest list. 

“How many groomsmen do you want?” The question falls past my lips as he reaches over to pull the pen from between my teeth.

“Well, definitely I’d want my brother as my best man, and probably three more guys. To keep it even just how you like it.” Elias winks, nudging my leg with a chuckle. I roll my eyes, but smile anyway, because he’s absolutely right. Even numbers are always nice.

“Okay.” Four people is reasonable, but now I have to find a maid of honour and three bridesmaids. That shouldn’t be hard, but I have no idea who to ask. Holly for sure was a given, but beyond her I wouldn’t even know where to start. 

“Are we inviting your parents?” Elias’ question comes entirely out of left field, and it feels like someone punched me in the throat. Were we? Do I want to? Should I? They only know about Elias from a singular instagram post. They don’t even know about the baby. 

Elias must see the gears in my head turning, because he sends me a soft smile. “Why don’t we make invitations for them, and you can decide later if you want to send them or not? No need to let it stress you out too much babe.”

Reluctantly I agree. Would I regret not inviting them? Would I regret inviting them?

———

I’ve spent the last week making the invitations, painting each by hand. Was it crazy to do? Yes absolutely. I know that, but I want them to be personal.

“Have you even moved since I left?” Elias’ voice startles me. He left some time ago for his morning practice, at that point I had already been up working on them for an hour. He chuckles as I shrug, and places a kiss to my temple. “You’re crazy.”

“And yet, you’re going to marry me.” I tease, sticking my tongue out at him. 

He places a sweet kiss to my lips, pulling away with a smirk. “Who told you that?” 

Rolling my eyes, I shove a hand playfully into his chest. “Well you don’t have to, but if I just spent a whole week making these invitations and there isn’t going to be a wedding,” I pause sending him a ‘threatening’ glare. “You better run Pettersson.”

Throwing his head back, Elias laughs heartily. Hand clutching his stomach, as he struggles to catch his breath. “You’re adorable.” He manages to get out between laughs.

“Great, so you’ll drop these off at the post office on your way to the rink later.” Punctuating my request with a wink. 

A groan leaves my body as I pull myself from the chair at the kitchen table. Elias is quickly by my side in aid, no longer laughing. His face twists in concern, hands finding my hips. “Don’t worry babe, I’ll drop them off. Now come nap with me?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead he wraps a hand softly around my wrist, pulling me gently in the direction of our bedroom. 

I can’t argue. Instead I follow him, body aching from how I’d been sitting at the table all morning. Elias carefully pulls back the covers, rearranging my pillows, and strips down to just his sweats. I quietly thank him as I attempt to get comfortable, something that’s become increasingly more difficult as of late. 

Climbing in behind me, Elias pulls me into his side and places a hand gently across my growing bump. “You going to let Momma rest Addy?” He asks softly, eyes already closing. I watch him closely, and a small smile forms on his face as he rubs gentle circles on my stomach.

“You know watching someone sleep is kind of weird.” His voice is gravely and my face flushes in embarrassment.

“I wasn’t-“

“Mhm.” His lips quirk up into a smirk, eyes not opening once. “Get some rest babe.”

“Fine.” I grumble, placing my head on his chest. His breathing evens out, and his heart beat is steady in my ear. I place a hand on his chest, curling into his side the best I can given the fact my stomach is in the way. My fingers lazily trace patterns across his bare chest, eyes beginning to feel heavy.

“Love you Kins.” Elias’ voice is low, and I can hear how tired he is.

“Love you too Lias.”

It’s not long before Elias is snoring quietly beneath me. Everything feels so right, here in his arms. Like nothing bad could happen. With the feeling of ease settling into my bones, it isn’t long before I’m falling asleep too.

———

Somehow I managed to sleep through Elias getting up and getting ready. When I finally wake up, he is long gone. 

Picking up my phone, my face lights up at the message displayed on my screen.

Elias❤️: I let you sleep. You needed it. Don’t worry though, the invitations were mailed. There is some pizza in the fridge for you if you want it. See you tonight xx

I respond with a quick thank you text, making sure to wish him luck with his game. Grabbing some pizza I settle into the sofa, and turn the game on. 

Watching Elias play hockey always manages to put a smile on my face. He’s so incredibly talented, and extremely humble. It’s one of the many things I love about him. 

No matter how important hockey is to him though, he always makes sure I know that our family is more important. Always. It’s the reassurance I never knew I needed, but Elias has always made sure it’s there without being asked.

———

Lazy Sundays have become somewhat routine for Elias and I. We wake up, Elias works out while I write, we eat breakfast together, and we spend the rest of the day working on our own things. Today has gone a lot like that. 

Currently I’m editing some of my writings while Elias scrolls through Instagram from his spot beside me. Aside from the clicking of my keyboard as I type, and an occasional chuckle from Elias, the room is peaceful. That is until there is a knock on the door. “Babe can you answer that please?” 

Elias hums in response, pulling himself from the couch. We aren’t expecting anyone, but it’s not uncommon for one of the boys to drop in, or to have someone trying to sell us something on a Sunday. So much to my surprise it’s a woman’s voice at the door, asking for me specifically. “Is Kinsey here?”

Elias walks back into the living room, a look of confusion on his face. “There is someone at the door for you babe?” His statement sounds more like a question, and has my heart rate increasing. Who could be at the door looking for me? What happened?

Setting my laptop on the coffee table, I pull myself awkwardly from the couch. I take a moment to adjust my tshirt and fix my hair before rounding the corner. The figure standing in the doorway, has me stopping dead in my tracks. My face pales, as my body goes rigid. This must be some sick joke.

Grasped in her hand is an envelope. One I recognize well, because I had sealed it weeks ago. I knew making that invite was a bad idea. 

“Mom?”

———

Another cliff hanger? Why not? Let me know what you think! Part 4 is going to take some time, but I will get it out eventually I promise!

Tagging: @anastasiyaigorevnadobrodevskaya @heatherawoowoo @dripkingpetey @ya-pucking-nerd @jonnytoews19

[the-darklings]

coa one year later & self-reflection

(*drags out a creaky metal chair and plops down on it heavily*)

Hi. It’s me, ya boi skinny--

Wait, wrong one. Do over.

Hi, it’s me, Kat, and I’m not dead. Clearly. Today being one year anniversary of COA has kinda put me in a reflective mood, so I guess I decided to sit down and just...talk about some things, thoughts and feelings I’ve been bottling inside for a hot sec. Especially given how radio silent I have gone on here and people deserve a bit of perspective. 

And before anyone starts worrying, it’s all good, and I’m still around and currently in good health for the most part. 

So, let’s take it back to the start. Regardless of how dramatic it may sound, we need to go back a year for that. 

By technicality alone, COA actually turned one year old on October 12th. That’s when the first part was posted. However, the reason I’m treating today as the aforementioned birthday is simple: I had no intention of this story ever being more than a short two-parter. I told this to the discord gang already but COA was only going to have two parts. V was going to die in Tokyo and the rest of the story follows glimpses of John throughout the movies and it’s her ghost that haunts him. Skipping ahead, it was going to have a bittersweet ending of John eventually dying, having completed his task, only to be greeted by V, Daisy and Helen in the afterlife. A peace of sorts. Then, I realised that, well, no. I have more to say on this world and intrigue about this placeholder character V kept growing. 

November 1st happened and I made a very last minute call to continue COA but with the added pressure of doing it during NaNoWriMo 2019. And boy did I. Most of the story was figured out during that very intense month. I posted Part 2 on this day a year ago because I was so eager to share it. Perhaps, in retrospect, a bit too eager. 

For those of you who may not know this, I work as a writer full time for my actual every day job. I’m the main writer for an original webcomic called In the Bleak Midwinter on Webtoon.com and have been for almost two years now. Getting what is essentially your dream job is amazing. I’m very lucky on that front but it also taught me stark realities of having your job and only hobby overlap. It’s a dangerous creative mix. Especially because I was not used to being constraint in what I create or the feeling like I have to please anyone else. Writing as a job is a whole other avenue of creative exhaustion. I love my job a lot and am very, very lucky to have it but it doesn’t change the fact that those initial stages made me fall back on COA a lot for creative freedom that I craved so desperately. To an unhealthy degree looking back on it now. 

But going back to November last year. NaNo time. I did it. Finished on the 24/25th I believe. A juicy final count of 52k+. All while maintaining a weekly update schedule for a fic that usually hit around 10k per update, if not more, even during those early days. Add writing an original story on top of that. Writing every day for hours on end (we are talking 10-12hr days) without any time for other hobbies or time for myself in general. I kept pushing and pushing and pushing. Losing weight and sleep in the process. I think the thing that convinced me that I should continue doing so is the fact that the outpour of support for COA ended up surpassing anything I ever expected or even dared to hope for. I’m not a huge numbers person but the outpour of love and just sheer investment in the story and characters blew me away. John Wick fandom is on the smaller side and has been going through downtime when I posted COA so my expectations were...well, small tbh. I like keeping expectations low to avoid any disappointments in general. But I’ve also always had an issue of being a massive 0 or 100 kind of person. If I love something, it consumes me. In this case, it brought me as much joy and freedom as much as it was steadily pushing me towards the ultimate crash. 

That being said, I can’t thank you all enough for every comment, like, reblog and message and fanart. You’re the reason I got this far. With your support. It brightened some really dark days for me.

But. 

To be frank, it’s never been about you guys. I never wrote or pushed because I felt like I had to appease anyone. That creative mindset is pure poison and I long since learned to let go of it. I kept pushing and kept working myself to the bone because I liked it. I liked how reading peoples’ responses made me feel. I liked the addictive nature of reading all the comments and theories after an update. I loved the idea of brightening peoples’ days and giving them something to cheer them up after what might have been a shitty day. Even if that was at expense of my own time/well being. But for a long time, it wasn’t. I love writing a lot but facts remain facts. 

It was beyond unhealthy and burnout wasn’t a question of if but when and that when was approaching at neck-breaking speed. 

So we come to the end of November. Part 4 has just come out. People were invested and I was invested alongside them. I was just finishing up Part 5 which (back then) was the biggest single chapter I’ve ever written and god I still recall my sheer dread because that was the beginning of Santino being established as a LI. Looking back on that now, it’s downright hilarious how worried I was about the reception of him and V together after John.

So honestly, I hit burnout at around Part 8. Because that’s the first time I recall struggling with writing a chapter. Part 8 came out on December 28th. I had a brief break for holidays. But my mistake was not taking longer back then. Because I continued writing with a barely healed burnout. Followed by almost a year of struggling and continuously creating through that state. It wasn’t like I eased off the pressure, either. Oh, no. The chapters grew in size, the world and the characters with it. AUs amassed quickly and while I adore every single one - again, I didn’t know how to pace myself well enough.

I’m spiteful though. The more the chapters struggled the more I pushed against the burnout. By the time Chicago arrived, however, I knew I was in trouble. I ended up writing 43k+ in a span of 2 months, I believe. And while to some it may not seem like a lot given the time frame, it’s a lot when you’re burnout to a crisp & writing an original story for work + deadlines. Which I was burned out and then some. Chicago was something I was looking forward to writing for months. I have built it up since Part 4. It was a long time coming. So while I’m still proud of it, I would be lying if I said that some scenes were not sacrificed for the sake of keeping to my invisible schedule that no one but me actually cared about. You guys have always been patient. I never felt pushed into anything. It’s always only ever been me doing the harm. 

Chicago was the downwards spiral for me mentally. I felt like I was failing to live up to my own expectations. That people were drifting away from it. I was plagued by the thought that the story I poured so much into was falling apart and growing weaker. Which this has always been an issue with me: I am my own harshest critic. Always have been. In fact, I’m a downright mean little fucker when it comes to just tearing at myself. I know writing is for fun - and it is - but I still like the idea of being proud of my work which only made everything worse despite the love each update received. 

This takes us to the beginning of June. Specifically, June the 2nd. Or, as I like to call it: Kat Makes Another Impulsive Decision but This One Actually Works Out For the Better. On this day, I created the COA Discord server. And damn, I’m not sure what exactly I was expecting when I did ngl. I did it for fun and as an escape more so than anything. But somehow it ended up being the best decision I made in a long while. I know some of you are reading this. So love you lots, dorks. It’s such a privilege to be able to call so many of you my friends even outside of COA now. That little community has given me some of the best memories from this year and helped me to crawl out of my own metaphorical pit I was stuck in. Mentally, I’m doing much better than I did beginning of this summer. Which could be summed up as a constant self-hatred cycle and a feeling of inadequacy. 

That, however, does not mean my burnout magically disappeared. If anything Chapter 17 just put a nail in the coffin so to speak. 2020 has been a shitty year just across the board for obvious reasons I don’t need to go into here but that can only partially be attributed to my mental state. Chapter 17 was...exhaustive. To say the least. But I was determined to stick with my vision and not split it up. I was also starting to be a bit more forgiving towards myself in terms of how long I may take to write it thanks to guys on discord though the feeling of failure and worry never quite faded fully. I’m proud of Part 17. Truly. But that was also when I hit rock bottom creatively on COA. It drained me completely. 

I tried writing Part 18 for weeks after, day in and day out, not getting past the first scene and hating every word I wrote. So I took a deep breath and stopped. Figured I let it marinate and wait instead of trying to piece one of the most crucial chapters in this story like some Frankenstein monster two sentences at the time.

So my solution was simple: give myself some distance from it and write other things. Get my spark back. Of course that’s always a good idea. Having multiple creative escapes is the best thing you can do for yourself creatively. There was just one tiny little problem. 

I was still burned out. Still am. The problem went deeper than just being burned out over COA. I was burned out over writing itself. 

Which is an issue for a person who only has writing as a creative outlet.

I don’t have any other way to express myself. So I was stuck in a runt, trying to write because it’s the only thing that makes me genuinely happy even when I really shouldn’t have. And let me tell you. It’s a shitty fucking feeling. My burnout worsened. I had a thousand ideas but every time I tried to get them down it felt forced, fragmented, and weak. Repetitive and dry. Now, this is also in part because English isn’t my native language, so my vocab is limited as a result, but I hit that sweet rock bottom in that regard, too. 

So, I worked on V (but in her OC form Clara), Lucien and The Elites. All those characters have grown so much since you last read about them. I have multiple original projects planned down the line that will feature all of them existing in their own world, with their own stories and no longer constrained by JW canon.  

Which, finally, takes us to the end of October and beginning of November 2020. 

I was convinced that the best course of action was to do NaNo again but with an original story this time (involving V). Suffice to say, it took a grand total of maybe 5-6 days and hating every second of writing it while also feeling like this project I’m so passionate and excited to write (still am) is just...going down the toilet to be blunt, to realise I may have made the wrong call. 

Still, the stubborn ass that I am, I pushed through. Convinced I can get into it if I just keep going. The realizations that I am sharing with you right now won’t have been possible if it hadn’t been for a rather curious turn of events about a week and a half ago.

I recently bought a gaming laptop, all in preparation for Cyberpunk 2077 dropping ofc. But, in the meantime, I kept recommending a game to a friend on the COA server. That game? Far Cry 5. (It’s a blast to play btw, just a side note.) And playing it brought back all the feelings of nostalgia from the days when I used to write for that fandom. So I revisited some old work. Checked the stuff I never published and that has been sitting ducks in my docs for months and hoo boy. Let me tell you it was a vibe check of the worst kind. 

The stark difference in the prose and the ease with which it flowed was...startling. It made me remember why I love writing so much and how proud I used to be of what I wrote back in the day. Which is not to say I’m not proud now, but it was just such a sharp dip in quality it was impossible to ignore.  

So I didn’t.  

I paused NaNo, moving it to another month. I paused writing for everything but work, which with our season coming to an end I will also get a rest from soon, too. I kinda paused in general. For the first time in a while, I finally forced myself to switch off. Rest. 

The reason why I haven’t been on here is simple: guilt and not having energy to be on here. I like making my blog a safe space for everyone. Similar to escape it has become for me. I couldn’t pretend I was fine when I wasn’t. I felt obliged to perform and being here became exhausting. I haven’t been checking my inbox. Haven’t done much of anything except occasionally dropping by and reblogging a random post so people know I’m alive.

And that’s that, folks. That’s where I am currently. Resting. Completely exhausted mentally but resting. Getting my energy back. 

So where does that leave us, huh? If you read this far, dunno what to tell you. Thanks, I suppose. It’s still odd to think people actually care about my existence sometimes.

I know what you’re likely thinking, too. So does this mean COA is never gonna be finished? What is gonna happen to it? Are you abandoning it?

The answer: no. 17 out of 25 chapters and 250k+ in, I’m too far in not to give it a proper conclusion. Not because I owe it to anyone other than myself. I want this story to be a stepping stone for my future as a writer. I want to prove to myself that I can get this done and finish it. As of right now (as you can no doubt tell with how long it’s been since last update) it’s on a soft hiatus while I rest. This rest? Not sure how long it may last. Right now, my plan is till mid December at which point I will reevaluate. Ideally, I finish the year with an update. But my New Year’s resolution is to finish COA. That timeline has become a little more murky now but, again, ideally it’s within the first quarter of 2021. Will that happen? I don’t know. And I don’t want to make false promises, either. 

All I’m saying is that it will be done. I’m just no longer sure how long, exactly, it may take me to reach that Epilogue. I don’t expect many people to stick around for however long it may take me, but if you do, thank you. Truly. I really and deeply mean that. 

So what’s on the cards for this blog in the meantime? Well, CP77 is coming out in under a month (if it doesn’t get moved again lmao rip) and I expect that to be my soft return to posting my writing on here again. We will see where the muse takes me, if at all. Regardless though, I’m excited. 

One doctorate thesis later, here we are at the end of this really long rambling session. I hope that this has given you some perspective on things going on behind the scenes. I spared you some of the gorier details but I think this post has been long overdue. I suppose I, myself, was just too unwilling to face these things despite knowing about them deep down for a while now. I’m too self-critical not to notice but acting on correcting this behavior has been a whole other matter clearly. 

Thank you for reading this post, my writing in general, and supporting me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m still around. More is on the way in the future. I’ll be seeing you all real soon. And all my love to all of you. 

Love,

- Kat.   

[x-starshines-x]

Second Chances- for @unbeknownsttotheworld

1700 words

K+

ships: luke x reggie, julie x flynn (mentioned)

tw: they’re dead??

 They were warming up to rehearse with Julie, and Reggie smiled at him from across the garage. He wasn’t sure how it happened, but the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He loved Reggie.

He’s always been an affectionate person. At any given time he could be found sprawled across his friends’ laps or draped over their shoulders. It was just natural for him to be physically close with his friends, but it was different with Reggie. With Reggie, it was hands cupping faces, hugs that lasted just barely too long to be casual, and lingering glances at lips when the other wasn’t looking. It was clear blue eyes, crooked teeth smiling at him, sitting close enough to knock shoulders and knees, and lyrics that were far too personal to leave his songbook. He’d written countless songs about Reggie. It was expected, he wrote about whatever he was feeling. There were songs about his dreams, his home, hell - there were even a few about his short-lived relationship with Alex, but most of the songs he’s written in the past three months have been about Reggie. When he’d presented the lyrics to “Crooked Teeth” to the band, Alex gave him a sly smile, and Bobby nodded at him. Reggie, however, clapped Alex on the shoulder and teased them about how cute it was of Luke to write a song about him. He really was in love with an idiot.

Even after 25 years, he still felt the same about Reggie, which made sense because it only felt like they’d been dead a few months. With their less than stellar home lives, it had always been an inside joke between him, Reggie, and Alex that if they had to die they’d do it together, but none of them had ever actually expected it to happen like that. How they died didn’t even matter now that they had a second chance. They could play music together, and do what they couldn’t do when they were alive. Alex had genuine love with Willie, which is something that seemed out of his depth in the ’90s, and Luke still had Reggie. He’d taken his feelings to the grave, but now that they were back, he was not about to let that opportunity go so soon.

_______________________________________________

He told Alex first, the next day. It was only fair after he’d been dealing with Luke’s pining for over 25 years. He found him in the garage, looking over some sheet music at the piano.

“I’m in love with Reggie.”

Alex looks at him with a flat expression. “Figured that one out, have ya, Lucas?”

“Oh, c’mon Alex, you could at least pretend to be surprised.”

“Nope, not after putting up with both of your shit for so long,” he responded, smiling. “Anyway, why are you finally talking about it now? Not that it’s not a welcome change from your normal ‘staring-at-him-till-he-looks-at-you-then-looking-away’ thing.”

“First of all, I don’t do that-”

“Yes you do.” he interrupted.

“-Second of all,” he resumed, ignoring Alex. “I just realized that we died, and I never told him how I feel. I literally took my feelings to the grave, and now we have a second chance, so I’m not gonna waste it, ya know?” he explains, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand and sitting down on the piano stool.

“That’s surprisingly smart of you,” Alex smirks. “But really, I’m glad that you’re finally doing something about this. If not for your own happiness, then for my patience.”

“That’s sort of my issue though, I don’t really know how to tell him.”

“Why don’t you just- and I’m just throwing out wild ideas here- talk to him?”

“It’s not that simple, Alex! It has to be perfect. He’s too important for me to screw this up by tripping over my words and looking like a dumbass.”

“But you are a dumbass.”

“Alex!”

“Okay, okay. But to be fair so is Reggie,” he relents.

He lets out an overdramatic puff of air and lays his forehead on top of the piano. “He is! But I love him, and that’s why it has to be perfect,” he mumbles.

Alex reaches over and runs his fingers through Luke’s hair, smiling at his friend’s dramatics. It’s then that Julie walks in, finally home from her date with Flynn, looking over her shoulder at the house and shaking her head.

“Reggie’s messing around in Carlos’s room and I can’t tell him to stop without looking insane,” she says, grabbing her phone from her backpack. When she finally looks up and sees the scene playing out at the piano, she stops.

“What’s going on here?” she motions at Luke.

Luke lifts his head and nods once at Alex’s questioning glance.

“He’s in love with Reggie.”

“Oh my gosh, finally!! I didn’t wanna say anything in case you thought it was weird but you guys are so cute!”

Luke’s head shoots up from the piano, looking between Julie and Alex, his own bewildered expression matching Alex’s.

“You knew?” they ask in stereo.

“Uh, duh. It’s so obvious when you guys play together, and not even a blind person could miss the way you both stare at each other when you think the other’s not looking.”

Alex is nodding at her points, but Luke himself still hasn’t processed the fact that she knew.

“So what’s the problem then? You figured out how you feel, now all you have to do is tell him!” she continues.

“Apparently, that’s exactly what his problem is,” Alex answers, “He doesn’t know how to tell him.”

Julie gives them a confused look and fixes her gaze on Luke. “Why don’t you just play one of your songs for him? I’m willing to bet that you have at least 7 about him in your songbook.” she offers like it’s obvious.

“Are you crazy!? None of those songs even begin to explain how I actually feel about Reggie.”

“Then just write a new one,” she says, once again as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

“It’s not that easy!” Luke responds for what feels like the hundredth time.

“But it can be that easy if you stop overcomplicating it,” Alex adds.

Julie nods, “Exactly! All you have to do is put your feelings for him into a song, and we already know you’re great at that.”

“Maybe I can make that work,” he pauses to think, feeling his confidence rising, “Okay, yeah. I can totally work with that! Thank you guys!” he grins at his friends, standing to pull them both into a big hug.

When they finally pull apart, Alex poofs into the house, offering to keep Reggie distracted so Luke can write in peace. Julie starts grabbing her stuff to head inside, but is stopped by Luke.

“Actually, do you think you can stay and help me with this? Um, if you’re not busy or anything.” he asks.

“Of course! Where do we start?”

_______________________________________________

“It’s perfect, thank you so much Julie,” Luke says sincerely.

In the end they finished the song in just a few hours, repurposing lyrics and melodies and lyrics from songs Luke wrote about Reggie in the ‘90s, adding modern touches and lyrics where they were needed. If he was being honest with himself, it was probably one of the best songs he’d ever written, on par with “Unsaid Emily” and “Stand Tall”._ “Second Chances” _took everything he loved about his relationship with Reggie and put it into words.

“I’m happy to help.” she responded sincerely, “Now I’m gonna go find Alex and tell him to send your boy in. Good luck, Luke.”

He felt the nerves begin to set in as she left, this was really it. He was gonna tell Reggie how he felt or die (ha) trying. He didn’t have to wait long before Reggie was warping into the garage.

“Hey, man! What’s up? Alex says you have something to show me.” he says cheerily, smiling in that way that makes his eyes crinkle around the corners, and Luke’s heart is beating in his throat.

“Uh, yeah,” he swallows, “Come sit here for a sec,” he says, patting his hand on the sofa.

Reggie makes his way to the sofa, sitting casually. He spots Luke’s guitar resting behind where Luke himself is sitting on the stool.

“Oooh! Are you playing a new song for me?” he asks excitedly.

“Yeah, I just finished it, it’s called_ ‘Second Chances’._” he answers, picking up his guitar and settling into his natural position, feeling it’s familiar weight.

He closes his eyes and starts playing the intro of the song, it’s soft but full of energy, and he feels his nerves melt away as he starts the first verse. He gets all the way to the pre-chorus before opening his eyes, but still doesn’t look up at Reggie.

His confidence builds as the music swells leading up to the chorus, and when it hits, he finally looks up at Reggie, locking their eyes and singing directly to him.

“In the whole world of missed opportunities, you’re my second chance.”

He continues singing and playing, but gets up to sway with the music, Reggie following his lead. After another minute, they’re dancing around the studio and around each other. The energy in the room is electric and they’re suffocating and breathing more clearly than they ever have at the same time. The song eventually comes to an end with Luke strumming the final chord and letting it ring, and breathing deeply. Before Luke can move his guitar, Reggie is pulling him in for an uncomfortable, clumsy kiss and it’s perfect. Luke’s guitar is still between them, it’s teeth clashing and sweaty skin, and they’re both out of breath from dancing around, but it’s perfect.

“I’m guessing you didn’t hate the song, then.”

“Are you kidding me? I loved it, Luke.” is Reggie’s response, burying his face in the crook of Luke’s neck.

Luke pulls away to set his guitar down, and grabs Reggie by the back of his neck pulling him in for a much better kiss this time.

“Hey Reg,”

“Yeah Luke?”

“Spend your afterlife with me?”

“Of course, dumbass.”

[avengerscompound]

The B-List Avenger - 1

The B-List Avenger: A Hawkeye Fanfic

Series Masterlist

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Clint Barton x  F!Reader

Word Count:  2107

Rating:  E

Warnings:  Action, Injuries, Angst, Pregnancy, Smut (vaginal sex)

Synopsis:   After an explosion in your building, it’s up to Hawkeye to get you and your daughter to safety.  There might be worst ways to get to know someone.

The B-List Avenger

There was an explosion first.  The force of it blows out your wall and sends you flying across the room.  You land with a thud, hitting the wall first and then collapsing on the ground.

The next thing is searing pain.  It shoots up your spine.  Burns through your left thigh.  It makes your ears ring and a feeling behind your eye like you’ve just been stabbed directly in the frontal lobe.

Finally, there’s blind panic.  Your daughter has been sleeping in her crib.  There is now so much noise you can’t make out if she is crying or not.

You try to stand but the pain in your back and leg is so bad you can’t seem to manage it.  So you crawl, dragging yourself to her room.  As you get closer you can hear her wailing.  It’s a deep guttural scream out of fear and you’ve never been more happy to hear it.

You make it through the door and see her.  The damage in her bedroom isn’t so bad.  The bookshelf has fallen over and the crib isn’t flush against the wall but besides a huge crack in the wall closest to the blast, there was no other structural damage in her room.

Alexis is standing, her face scrunched and turning red.  “Mama!”  She screams, her voice cracking with the strain.

You speed up, moving to her as quickly as you can force your broken body.  When you reach the crib you drag yourself to your feet and picked her up.  At a year old she is already getting to that heavy, unable to carry her for too long without putting a strain on your back.  Picking her up now feels like white-hot flames burn through your spinal column from the inside out.  “Shh, Lexi.”  You sooth. “Everything’s fine.   We’re going to be okay.”

You collapse back on the ground, Lexi cradled in your arms.  She’s still screaming.  So upset that the tears can’t even quite break from her eyes.  Her tiny hands grip at your shirt, opening, and closing.

Slowly she starts to calm, despite the fact that outside the building the world seems to be falling apart.  There are more explosions.  The sounds of screams and yelling.  Constant gunfire.  Along with the pain in your back and leg, a new pain in your chest creeps in.  It grips onto your heart and squeezes it.  You don’t know if you should try to leave and risk being out in the open when you can barely walk.  Or stay put in a building that could collapse down around your ears at any moment.

There doesn’t seem to be a good answer.  The pain in your chest tightens and you feel your own tears threaten as you resign yourself to the fact that this is it, you’re going to die with your daughter screaming in your arms.

“Hello?  Is there someone in here?”

The voice comes from the living room.  It’s a man you don’t recognize yet at the same time has the very hint of familiarity to you.  Your first instinct isn’t to call out for help, it’s to make yourself smaller.  You pull Alexis closer to your body.  “Shh.  Time to be quiet, baby girl.”

“I’ll rephrase that. I actually know there is someone here.  I’m here to get you out.  I just don’t know where you are.”  The man calls again.

You still remain silent.  The fear response has just become too strong.  You’re frozen.  Sure this is it. This is the moment that you die.

He steps through the door.  Tall and lean.  Wearing a purple vest over black pants.  A longbow and quiver strapped to his back.  His hair is spiked up and he has a smile on his face.  Even with all this chaos and destruction, he’s smiling.

“There you are.”  He says.  “I’m here to get your out.  It’s okay.  I’m an Avenger.”

He approaches you slowly, trying to be non-threatening.

As soon as he says Avenger you realize that you do recognize him.  He’s not one of the main ones like Iron Man or Captain America.  Nor is he particularly recognizable, like the Winter Solider or Thor.  But you do recognize him.  “Hawk guy?”  You say, your voice trembling.

“What?  No.  Eye.  It’s Hawkeye.”  He says sounding frustrated.  He crouches down in front of you. “You know what?  Just call me Clint.  Can you walk?”

Alexis starts wriggling in your arms as Clint speaks to you and she reaches out to him.  Something you’d never seen her do with a stranger.  “Maybe?  Not with her.  My back.”  you answer, so close to tears now that your vision has started to swim.

“Hey, kid,”  Clint says, taking her from you.  She wraps her chubby arms around his neck and buries her face into his neck.  “This is new.  Normally kids hate me.”  He adds, helping you to your feet.

You wince, leaning on him with all your weight, trying not to have the extent of how much pain you’re in readable on your face.  “She normally hates people too.”

“Alright, let’s get you two out of here,”  Clint says.

The three of you start moving, but it’s clear after less than a half dozen steps you’re not going to be able to do this.   Clint looks at you.  “You mind if I carry you too?”

“No.  You can.”  You whisper.  You take Alexis back from him.  She very reluctantly lets go of his neck.  Clint scoops you up and moves, running to the front door of your apartment and opening the door into the hall.

The entire hall is burning.  The door to the stairwell is completely blocked.  The heat is unbearable.  “Aww… fire.”  Clint whines and turns back into the apartment.  “Plan B.”  He rushes back inside, kicking the door closed behind him.

He moves to the edge of the building where the wall has been blown out.  “Okay, I just need to put you down for one sec.”  He says, carefully lowering you to your feet.

He pulls the bow from his back and an arrow and aims at the building opposite.  He lets loose and the arrow flies out, a cord trailing behind it.  The end opens up into a grappling hook and it attaches to the building opposite it.  He lifts you again, tugs on the cord and then jumps.

You close your eyes as you suddenly find yourself flying through the air.  Alexis squeals with delight as the wind blows past your ears.  There’s a sudden jarring as you hit the ground and you open your eyes.

“Not ideal, but we make do,”  Clint says.  “We got the last one.  Bringing her to the evacuation point.”  He adds.  You assume into some kind of communication device that you can’t see.  He starts to move, staying closer to the buildings and ducking behind cars from time to time.  The sound of shouting and gunshots gets louder and Alexis starts crying again.

“Hey, kid.  It’s okay.  You got an Avenger with you.”  Clint says.  “B-list Avenger, but an Avenger nonetheless.”

You actually manage a laugh at that.  It’s weak but it’s there.  Clint smiles at you.  You come around the corner and he suddenly drops to his knee.  “Aww… HYDRA.”  He complains.

There is absolute chaos.  Captain America and Thor are fighting back to back in the middle of a huge group of people dressed in black.  The people in black are attacking the two Avengers in the middle.  Some engaging them hand to hand or with melee weapons while others fire on them with weapons that emit blasts of blue light.

Clint puts you on the ground behind a car.  “Just stay here okay?  Don’t move.”

You grab his shirt and shake your head.  “Don’t leave us!”  You whisper.

He smiles at you.  “Don’t worry.  You haven’t got rid of me yet.  Just gotta help out my friends.”

You let him go and he runs, crouching behind a black sedan.  He takes out his bow again and stands.  He doesn’t even seem to aim.  He just lets arrows loose on the people in black.  Each arrow hits its target but Clint’s actions draw the attention of several of the people.  They turn on him and start firing.  Clint ducks but not before getting hit in the side by one of the blasters.

“Clint!”  You scream.  You gather up Alexis whose voice has started sounding raw and you move.  You’re not sure what does it, the adrenaline or maybe there just isn’t as much pain now but you make it to him just as Iron Man flies in overhead and starts firing into the group.

“Are you okay?”  You ask, trying to look at his wound.

He won’t take his hand from it but he forces himself to smile.  “It’s fine.  Just need to get to the evacuation point.”

You see Iron Man and Thor fly off and Captain America appears around the side of the car.  “You’ve been hit?”  He says.

“It’s just a scratch,”  Clint replies, waving him off and dragging himself to his feet.  He takes Alexis from you and helps you to your feet.

“You need help?”  Cap asks.

Clint looks at you.  “Think you can walk?  It’s not far.”

You nod and Clint puts his arm around your waist.  You wrap one around his shoulders and lean on him just a little.

“We’ll be fine,”  Clint says.

Cap nods and runs off in the direction you just came.

“Okay.  Let’s go.”  Clint says.

The two of you shuffle run along, supporting each other.  Alexis holds onto Clint, finally getting to the point where she was making that shuddery can’t quite catch her breath sound.  “Hey, you’re alright kid. You’re safe.”  He says.  She sniffs and pats his cheek.

“How did you know we were there?”  You ask.

“Oh, Vision scanned.  You know the purple guy?”  He answers.

You look up at him.  “Thank you for getting us out.”

“No need for that.  It’s my job.”  Clint says.  “If you need to call your husband you can do that at evac.  I’m sure you’re worried.”

You shake your head.  “Not married.”

Clint looks at you.  “Oh really?”  His says, his voice tinged with something.  Hope?  Excitement?  “What about her dad?   He must be worried.”

You look away from him feeling slightly embarrassed.  “Yeah, I don’t really know who he is.”

“Oh really?”  The tone is different now.  More curious this time.  He looks from you to Alexis and back to you.

“Yeah… I was kinda… promiscuous … You know?”  You say.

Clint quirks his eyebrow at you.  “Oh really?”  He says.  This time the tone is slightly playful.

“Was.”  You say, with a laugh.  “Toned down for obvious reasons.”

“Aww… damn.  Guess I’ll have to buy you dinner then.”  He says.

You look up at him trying to tell if that was a joke or not.  His blue eyes give away nothing.  “Yeah, dinner’s a start.”  You agree.

You turn around a corner and at the end is a long wide plane.  The back is open and inside there are people sitting on chairs or lying on stretchers.  Paramedics moving between them.  “There’s our ride,”  Clint says pointing it out.

You pick up your pace a little and are met by a few medics who separate you and start treating you for your wounds.  You keep your eyes on Clint and finally see the wound on his side as they cut open his shirt.  It’s charred around the sides and oozing.  The smile on his face finally cracks as they begin treating it.

They treat your leg and have you lie down flat so your back isn’t under any more pressure.  Meanwhile, Alexis is checked over and given a lollipop and a toy to play with.

The drugs they give you start to kick in as Clint walks over and sits on a chair next to you.  “How’re you doing?”  He asks.  

“Gonna fall asleep, but I’m worried about Lexi.”  You say.

Alexis waddles over to him and climbs into his lap.  “Don’t worry.  I’ll keep an eye on her.”

You nod sleepily.  “Thank you, Clint.”  You say, and give yourself up to sleep.

You wake a little later when the plane is in the air.  You open your eyes and look over to where Clint is.  He’s asleep with Alexis sleeping on her stomach, draped over his chest.  It’s one of those ovary smashing scenes.  They both look so happy and peaceful.  It’s then you realize, you might just have the ever so slight, tiny, massive crush on Clint Barton.

// NEXT

[lets-talk-appella]

They’re Us (Ch 1/5)

PP Horror Week Day 3 - [Evil] Doppelgangers

Summary:  When the enemy looks like your friends, how do you know who to trust?

Word Count: 2.5k

Rating: M (for horror themes, not for smut.)

AO3 and FFN

They moved in at night.

No one noticed, no one heard. It was ideal for them.

Their eyes, amber in the moonlight, found the house, taking in its darkened windows and quiet demeanor. They thought of its occupants, sleeping right now, completely oblivious to the outside world.

They grinned at one another, exchanging anticipatory looks. This was going to be fun.

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

It starts small.

Chloe’s felt it for a few days. She’s felt it on her walk to and from campus, while on campus between classes, and even at the grocery store. She’s sure it’s all stress—it has to be—what with midterms coming up and preparation for Worlds in the spring. It’s stress, and stress alone. It’s gotta be.

It’s not like anyone is really watching her. That’d be insane. No one would have any reason to just… follow her all day.

She’s imagining things. She’s sure of it.

Still, she doesn’t particularly enjoy the (totally imagined) feeling that someone, once again, is watching her as she walks across the campus quad. She should be able to blame the chill running down her spine on the cool fall air. She should be able to blame the prickling of the back of her neck on the cold dampness of the rain/fog mist combination enveloping campus. She should be able to blame her unexplained skittishness on some assignment she’d forgotten to turn in.

She tells herself these things as she walks, tries to force her heart rate into a slower, steadier pattern than its current rapid flutter.

It doesn’t work.

Unease rises in her chest as she once again feels the weight of eyes trained on her. She glances over her shoulder, only seeing other bedraggled-looking students following her, headed to their own classes. Most of their eyes are trained on the ground, or at nothing in particular ahead of them. No one is following her too closely, no one stands out from the crowd, and no one is watching her. She looks ahead again, scanning her surroundings and seeing nothing—not one thing—that should be making her this anxious.

She walks faster.

Her skin crawls at being out in the open in the quad. Her last class of the day isn’t far away, but the idea of being so visible for any further length of time is unbearable.

She veers left sharply without warning, cutting off several people on the sidewalk who bristle immediately and glare at her, but she pays them no mind. She speed-walks off the quad, taking a path that deposits her between two tall brick buildings that act as security blankets, enclosing her with a relative feeling of solitude that the wide-open quad could not provide. However, it doesn’t make her feel any better, and she walks faster, breath starting to come in short bursts. If anything, the feeling of being watched, scrutinized, examined only intensifies, growing and developing until it starts to weigh on her lungs, crushing the air from them until she’s walking so quickly she’s nearly running, and she doesn’t care that people are looking at her now, because they’re not the ones she’s afraid of—who is she even afraid of?—and her heart is pounding so violently that she can feel it trying to escape from the confines of her ribs and can hear its every pump in her ears. Her head swivels, eyes scanning, always scanning for anything, any sign of real danger that could make her feel this panicked but finding nothing. She rounds the corner of a building at top speed—and stops dead.

She registers bright blue eyes trained on her own and red hair, but her brain can’t comprehend what she’s seeing. Who she’s seeing, standing only twenty feet away, watching her. Her stomach jolts, flips, tries to throw itself from her mouth and she doesn’t know what to do.

A huge group of people walk in front of her, disrupting her line of vision, cutting between her and the person who’d been staring at her, and Chloe knows she should run or turn away or something, but she’s rooted to the ground. The mob passes and Chloe braces herself but—the stranger is gone.

“No, no, no, no, where…” Chloe mumbles to herself, looking around wildly, searching for the bright eyes, unable to find them. She stares uncomprehendingly at the spot the stranger had occupied. Gone. She spins on the spot, getting even more weird looks from the students walking around her, but she doesn’t find who she’s looking for. The agitation in her chest is fading, though, draining away, and she knows that whoever she’d seen is gone.

With one more pivot on the spot, she catches a glimpse of Cynthia Rose walking past, headed in the opposite direction.

Relief floods Chloe’s veins, rolling through her and leaving her weak at the knees. She’s stressed and imagining things and Cynthia Rose will make everything better.

“Cee!” she shouts, voice cracking. “Cynthia Rose! Hey, Cynthia Rose!” Chloe calls, moving towards her, but Cynthia Rose doesn’t look up. She walks quickly and must have her earbuds in or something because she gives no indication of having heard Chloe’s shouts.

With an exasperated huff, Chloe starts to follow, intending to tell her all about her hallucination—it was most definitely a hallucination—but then Chloe’s phone vibrates in her pocket.

Distracted, she pulls the phone out and glances at the screen: call from Aubrey.

She looks up—Cynthia Rose has already been swallowed by the crowd—and answers the phone.

“Aubrey?”

“Hey! This is super last minute, but are you doing anything in, like, half an hour?”

“I—uh, what?” Chloe asks, still searching half-heartedly for Cynthia Rose but unable to spot her.

“I… asked if you were free soon?” Aubrey repeats, her voice turning uncertain.

“Oh, sorry, I was just… um…”

Chloe can hear Aubrey’s intake of breath, can sense her concern through the phone. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Yes,” she answers more fully, forcing herself to focus on Aubrey and Aubrey alone.  “Sorry. Um, weird day. So, uh, yeah, I’m free!” There’s no way she’s going to her last class of the day if she’s hallucinating. “Why, did you want to talk about anything?”

“Actually, I’m in Barden!” Aubrey says, sounding happy and excited and so normal that it sets Chloe at ease instantly. “Had to run kind of a last-minute errand with the lodge, so I’m here and wondered if you had a sec to meet up for coffee or something.”

“Oh… oh, wow, sure!” Chloe exclaims happily. It’s unusual for Aubrey to stop in randomly, but she’d done it before, and Chloe can definitely use the company. “Where were you thinking?”

“Um, how about the Smiling Goat?” Aubrey suggests, and Chloe grins; they went there often before Aubrey had graduated, and she’s missed the friend-dates.

“Awes! I guess I’ll see you there in…”

“Twenty?”

“Great. I’m just on campus, so see you soon!” Chloe says before hanging up. The sound of Aubrey’s voice had completely calmed her down. With one last look around, she starts making her way toward the cafe on the edge of campus, only walking a little more quickly than she usually might.

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

Twenty minutes later, she’s seated across the table from one of her favorite people in the entire world. Aubrey sips at her usual hazelnut latte while Chloe admires the heart the barista had created on the surface of her caramel one. The warm drink in her hands grounds her just as much as Aubrey does, and Chloe feels more relaxed than she has in days.

“I’m really happy you were free this afternoon,” Aubrey says. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” Chloe says, meaning every word. “And, yeah, I’m glad it worked out.”

Something in her tone must give her away; Aubrey narrows her eyes suspiciously. “You were free, right? No classes or meetings or anything?”

Chloe shifts somewhat guiltily.

“Chloe!” Aubrey gasps, scandalized. “Are you skipping class right now?”

“Just Russian Lit!” Chloe exclaims defensively. “I’ve taken it a ton of times already, so it’s fine!”

Aubrey shakes her head reprovingly, but she’s smiling. “Are you actually going to graduate this time? Since a certain someone is graduating?”

“For your information,” Chloe says flatly, “that someone has nothing to do with my graduation.”

“Uh huh. She’s single now, right?”

Chloe hesitates. “Yes, but—”

“But still an oblivious little hobbit?”

“Aubrey,” Chloe chides gently.

“What? It suits her,” Aubrey huffs.

Chloe hums. “For the record, I stayed because the Bellas—”

“Would have been fine if you’d graduated with me,” Aubrey says gently, reaching out to rest her hand on Chloe’s. “But I know you wouldn’t have it any other way. You know,” she adds, leaning across the table. “Sometimes, I wish I’d had the idea to stay, too. Or the guts,” she says, shifting back into her chair and taking another sip of her drink.

“I wish you’d stayed, too,” Chloe sighs wistfully. “We could have had so much fun.”

“I have the lodge,” Aubrey shrugs, rubbing at the corner of one eye. “Maybe the Bellas need some bonding time before Worlds?”

Chloe ponders that for a moment. “You know, that’s a good idea,” she says. “I’ll probably take you up on that sooner or later.”

“Definitely,” Aubrey nods. “Just let me know.”

It’s easy to talk to Aubrey like this, to fall into rhythm as if it’d only been hours since they’d seen each other instead of weeks. They’ve always been able to do that, and Chloe knows it’s a testament to the strength of their friendship. They talk about each of the Bellas some more—with Aubrey displaying far too much interest in Beca’s newly single status and what Chloe might do in response (“Nothing, Aubrey,” she insists)—and also about the Worlds competition in less than six months. Aubrey talks about work, Chloe talks about classes, and when Chloe’s phone chimes and she automatically reaches for it, they see that nearly two hours have passed.

“Oh, wow,” Aubrey sighs, “I should probably go soon before it starts getting dark.”

“Already?” Chloe asks, hearing the whine in her own voice but not caring. She feels safe with Aubrey there, and had temporarily forgotten all about the stress and worry of the last few days.

Aubrey hesitates, apparently sensing that something is wrong. “You okay?” she asks, her eyes flicking between both of Chloe’s. “You seem… I don’t know. But earlier on the phone things were kinda—”

“Just stress,” Chloe sighs. “I think my mind has been playing tricks on me lately. Maybe I just need some sleep.”

“What kind of tricks?” Aubrey asks, absently rubbing at her eyes again. Chloe wonders if fall allergies are bothering her.

“Um, nothing major,” Chloe says, shifting in her chair. She doesn’t want Aubrey to worry about her. “Just, like, seeing things every now and then. Probably just need sleep,” she says again in response to Aubrey’s raised eyebrows.

“Okay, if you’re sure…” Aubrey trails off. “But call or text me if you need anything, okay? I mean it,” she says seriously.

“I will,” Chloe promises. “Thanks.”

Aubrey studies her for another long moment before again checking the time. She glances out the window as if checking the rapidly darkening sky. “I really should go,” she says. “I don’t like driving through the woods after dark. It gets creepy.”

“Okay, well,” Chloe says, standing as Aubrey rises from her chair. “In that case, drive safe! I’m really glad we could meet up.”

“Me too!” Aubrey says, pulling Chloe into a warm and solid hug. “This was so nice.”

“Yeah,” Chloe breathes, squeezing Aubrey more tightly for just a moment. “I’ve missed you.”

When the hug ends, Aubrey picks up her purse—it looks new, Chloe notices—and says her goodbyes. Chloe hangs back, intending to use the cafe’s Wi-Fi to email her professor and make up some excuse for missing class. Aubrey waves at her just before passing through the door, and then she’s gone.

It takes Chloe maybe five minutes to type up what she deems an acceptable email; she hopes her professor won’t ask too many questions about a sudden bout of food poisoning. As soon as the email sends, Chloe slips on her jacket, grabs her bag, and heads out the door with a friendly wave at the barista.

She doesn’t get more than ten steps from the cafe before she again feels eyes on her back.

Steeling herself with a deep breath, she looks over her shoulder, but doesn’t see anyone.

She pulls her jacket more tightly around herself and keeps walking, flipping up the hood of her jacket. She almost immediately lowers it again; the hood restricts her peripheral vision, and she wants to be able to see everything. Just in case.

It starts to rain lightly, and she wishes she’d brought an umbrella. The chilly drizzle seeps into her supposedly rain-proof jacket, making both it and her jeans cling to her as she walks. The noise of the raindrops hitting the pavement around her sounds like footsteps to her paranoid ears, which strain for anything unusual.

Chloe picks up her pace, jumping when a gush of rain from a nearby gutter startles her. She can’t wait to get home.

“Hey, wait!”

A hand lands on her shoulder, scaring Chloe so badly that she makes some strangled scream, twisting around to face her attacker.

The barista from the cafe, already drenched from rain, recoils in surprise.

“Sorry!” Chloe gasps, knowing she must seem hysterical. “I—you scared me.”

“I didn’t mean to!” the barista rushes out. “Just—your friend left her umbrella at your table,” she says, holding up Aubrey’s purple umbrella, all wrapped up. “I saw it when I was cleaning. Though... it looks like you could use it,” she adds, eyes flicking down Chloe’s sopping outfit.

“Oh,” Chloe breathes, taking Aubrey’s umbrella from her. “I’m glad you spotted it. Thanks for bringing it to me.”

“No problem.”

“And, uh, sorry for… yeah, that,” Chloe says, waving her hand in the air in reference to screaming at the barista.

The barista shrugs. “No problem,” she repeats. “Have a good day.”

“You too,” Chloe says as the barista turns and jogs back to the cafe to escape the rain and return to her job.

Without thinking about it, Chloe unfurls and opens the umbrella, holding it up to counter the downpour. She’s still soaked through, but at least she’ll keep the cold rain off her. She pulls out her phone as she walks back toward the Bella house, hoping she can get to Aubrey before she drives too far out of town. Maybe Aubrey will even take pity on her and give her a ride home in the rain.

The phone rings three times and Chloe almost ends the call, not wanting to bother Aubrey while she’s driving, but then Aubrey picks up.

“Chloe? What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing, you just left your umbrella,” Chloe answers.

“What?”

“Your umbrella?” Chloe says, raising her voice to be heard over the rain. “You left it at the cafe just now.”

There’s a pause, and Chloe wonders if Aubrey still hadn’t heard her properly. “You left your—”

“Chloe, what are you talking about?” Aubrey asks, sounding concerned. “Are you okay?”

“What?” Chloe blinks, confused. “Aubrey, just now, when we met for coffee. You left your umbrella.”

“My… are you sure?” Aubrey definitely sounds lost now.

“Of course I’m sure!” Chloe says, that sense of disquiet returning, threatening to cut off her voice. “We—I was with you!”

Another pause, this one longer.

Chloe’s heart is once again beating uncomfortably hard. “You’re kidding around, right? Aubrey, that’s not—”

“Where are you right now?”

“I’m still close to the cafe, just walking home. You could meet me—”

“No, no, I mean—” Aubrey cuts herself off sharply.

Pause.

Chloe walks faster.

“Aubrey?” Chloe asks. Her voice seems very, very small to her own ears. “You were just here. Just now.”

“I… you said we met for coffee?” Aubrey sounds as scared as Chloe feels.

“Yeah! I—I just saw you. Aubrey, I just saw you.” Chloe’s pleading with her.

Aubrey takes a deep breath, one that makes the phone crackle in Chloe’s ear. When she speaks again, Chloe can tell she’s fighting to control her voice.

“Uh… Chloe, I’m—I’m at the lodge right now. At work. I haven’t been to Barden in… weeks.”

[anagentinwriting]

Subscribe - Part 8

Summary: (Modern AU) Peter was your college sweetheart until a certain event led to your break up. Seven years later another event brings you two back together, but this time a little girl is in the picture. Will listening to your podcasts be the reason you two get back together or be another reason to keep you apart?

Pairing: Peter Quill x Reader

Word Count: 3116

Warnings: Angst, Fluff

Subscribe Masterlist / Main Masterlist

You got released from the hospital three days ago, and you were already sick of sitting at home. You cleaned the whole house from top to bottom twice since no show or book could grab your interest. And with Meredith being at school for most hours of the day, you were bored out of your mind being home alone. You wanted to go back to work but couldn’t start till next week, which meant three more days of nothing.

Somehow, you convinced your doctor and Pepper to allow Wanda to work out of the office at your house today. You finally got to do something different, even if it meant planning Peppers trip to New York next week. You and Wanda started working on it, then the accident happened, so Wanda has been working on it by herself. She was a little lost, but she managed to figure out a few things from all your random sticky notes. 

“The talent has arrived,” Wanda shouted as she entered your front door.

“I’m upstairs. I ordered Chinese for us. It should be here shortly,” you shouted from Meredith’s room upstairs.  “I’ll be down in a bit. I’m almost done folding laundry.”

“Alright, I will...” Wanda started, getting interrupted by a knock on the door. “Get the door,” she whispered to herself. She pulled open the door, digging through her wallet. “Hi, how much was it again?”

“Excuse me?” Wanda glanced up to see a guy with a confused look on his face.

“You’re not the usual morning delivery guy?”

“No...um does YN live here?” He asked as his eyebrows came together, forming a crease between them. 

“Does she owe you money?” 

“No.”

“Did she hit your car?”

“Ah...no.”

“Then, yes she lives here and who might you be?” Wanda crossed her arms across her chest, eyeing him up and down.

“Peter. I'm an old friend.” He stuck out his hand, and she shook it.

“Wanda.”

“Oh, like from the podcast?”

“Yes,” she chuckled, watching him with suspicion. “So you’re apart of the small percentage of guys who listen to it.” He shrugged with a smirk. “What can I do for you? YN is a little busy at the moment.”

“I wanted to catch up on some things. Gamora told me she would be home today since she is going back to work next week.” Peter answered, hoping to get his point across. 

“She is. Somehow she convinced the doctor to let her because she’s going insane sitting around all day.”

“She was always the busy body,” he smirked, nodding his head.

“You’re right about that, Peter.” Wanda agreed. She stared at him for a moment longer trying to place where she might’ve seen him before, or a time YN talked about him. “I'm sorry, but I have to ask Peter; YN has never mentioned anything to me about a guy named Peter.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” he stated. “There is another name you might know me by it’s…”

“How do I know you’re not some crazed stalker fan of the show?” Wanda asked, interrupting him.

“No. I’m not that at all. Trust me,” he replied, holding his hands up in front of him. “I only learned about the podcast a few weeks ago from Meredith.” 

“So, you know YN’s daughter, too?”

“Yeah, she’s a great little lady. She has her mother’s spunk and curiosity. She carries the weight of the world on her little shoulders, and puts on a brave face when she wants to be strong for everyone else,” he replied while Wanda nodded, agreeing with him half listening and half zoning out. “She’s my daughter.”

A second later, Wanda’s head snapped to him as the realization dawned on her. She stared at him, tilting her head to the side almost as if she was reading his mind. “Can you like chill for a sec,” Wanda proclaimed, slamming the door in his face and ran up the stairs. 

You put the last of Meredith’s laundry in her drawer when Wanda barged into the room out of breath. She stood with her hands clutching her knees, trying to catch her breath. “Whoa, Wanda! You alright?”

“YN, your um…your um…” She heaved, trying to catch her breath. 

“My what?”

“Star-Lord...is...downstairs.” 

“Wait, what?” You stared at her with big round eyes.

“Gamora told him to stop over,” she breathed. “Why do you have so many steps?”

“She never said--” you furrowed your brows together “--I'm...I'll be back.”

“Yeah. You go girl.” She collapsed on Meredith’s bed, pumping her fist in the air. “You get him, girl.”

You stood by the closed door, seeing a reflection through the textured glass window. He’s here. What were you going to say to him? Why didn’t Gamora tell you he was going to stop by? At least you could've better prepared and made yourself presentable. You glanced in the round mirror next to the door, trying your best to look approachable. You took a deep breath and opened the door to see Peter’s back. The small creek in the door made him turn around and smile at you. 

“Hi, YN. You’re looking better...ah...Gamora told me you’re going back to work soon, so I thought I would come to visit you before then. I wanted to check up on you anyways and thought we could catch up.”

“Is this because you found out about Meredith?”

“Yes and no. For one, I didn't know you moved to Malibu after college.”

“There’s a lot you don't know about me.” You opened the door wider, inviting him in. You walked with him to your office to get a bit more privacy even though Wanda would be holding a glass to the door regardless. Peter moved to the chair in front of the desk but waits for you to sit first. “Did you want anything to drink?”

“I'm okay. Thanks.” You nodded. “How are you feeling? I heard a little about your job at Potts of Honey producing a podcast. Sounds fun!”

“I'm doing better just tired of sitting around here all day.” You shrugged. “My job is pretty fun. Right now, I’m producing one podcast, but I'm planning on starting another one in the future.”

“I’ve listened to a few episodes, and it’s informative and funny. I also never thought of certain brands of diapers, bottles, or breast pumps being better than other brands. And how babies can be picky about what products they like and don't like. I’m learning a lot,” he smirked, eyeing you over. “I can tell you enjoy what you do. Both, you and Wanda, do a great job with what you are sharing with the world.”

“Thanks. She’s a good talent, and those are the topics people want to hear about. I'm kinda surprised you’ve listened to them,” you admitted, eyeing him over.  

“Well, I only started listening to them a couple weeks ago, so can't call me a lifelong fan.” 

“I see. Usually our demographic gears towards women, but I’m finding more men have started listening to it. I pegged you for the kind that wouldn’t.”

“I guess, there's a lot you don't know about me either,” Peter replied with an amused smirk. “I will say I am pretty fond of the Star-lord series as your fans call it.” You stared at him with wide eyes. “I am curious to why you decided to talk about us on there?”

“It’s a relatable topic. The podcast is about people sharing experiences, so I talk about what I know. I'm not going to make something up to get people to listen. Besides, it was Wanda who started it.” He chuckled, nodding his head, remembering the first episode he listened to with you on it; the not a date date. “I heard your record label became quite the overnight success story,” you inquired, hoping to get the topic off you. 

“It’s only a success because my partners are the best. If it was only me, I wouldn’t have come close to what I have been able to accomplish in this industry. It’s a crazy business, especially when you’re trying to find new talent and some can be relentless about getting noticed. Like there's this one high school girl from Queens, her boyfriend keeps calling and sending demos. It can get pretty ridiculous.”

“You should give her a shot. She might be a nice, fresh young face to add to your label.”

“You’re probably right about that. Maybe she’s worth another look.”

You heard the doorbell ring and excused yourself to get the door. You opened it, paying the delivery guy, and took everything into the kitchen. You rested your hands on the counter and took a few deep breaths to calm your nerves. This whole thing will be over soon, and then you can go back to living your life without Peter. Why is he even here? You stepped back into your office to find Peter staring at the collage of picture frames on the wall. 

“She has your spunk, you know,” Peter stated, smirking at the pictures. 

“My what?” You narrowed your eyes at him. 

“You know that...strength, curiosity and determination. Set your mind to it, and you’ll get the job done.”

“I'm not the only one she gets it from,” you confessed, forcing your favorite boyish smile onto Peter’s face. You ignored it as best you could, and pointed at one frame from her birthday party a couple of years ago.

“This was her fifth birthday, and she became obsessed with space and anything to do with it. I swear she watched every movie about space, including Despicable me.  It was a crazy time,” you smiled at the memory. 

“Mer mentioned that you never told her my name,” Peter inquired, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I didn't. I told her I used to call you Star-lord. It could be the reason she loves space so much,” you breathed with a slight smirk. “I told her everything she wanted to know about you, like how you’re a great guy with a caring heart. You love music and movies, and how you still think Footloose is the greatest movie ever.”

“It still is and will always be,” he confirmed with a straight face. “I guess what I don’t understand, is why did you only tell her the good things?”

“Why would I tell her anything different?”

“Well, the way we ended things was pretty bad.”

“If I told her the bad things and how I hated you for hurting me, she’d think I'd hate the part of her that is her father.” He nodded, realizing your reasoning. “I’m not going to brush my opinions of you on her when she didn’t even know you. I’m not going to make her think less of you because she’s never met you” You went back over to your desk, taking a seat. You let out a deep breath and bit down on your bottom lip. “Why are you here, Peter?”

“Isn’t it obvious.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Finding out I have a seven-year-old daughter from my ex’s sister, you can imagine my surprise.” You remained silent as your eyes moved to stare at the top of your desk. “I was a little freaked, to say the least. I never could keep a goldfish alive for more than a week, how was I going to keep another human being alive? I don’t know how you managed to raise her yourself, but you did. I guess I want to know, were you ever going to tell me about our daughter?”

“Yes, I was going to tell you at some point,” you paused before continuing. “I remember when Mer was about three years old, I was barely making ends meet and Gamora was doing way more than she needed, too. I was at a low point in my life, but then I got an interview at Potts of Honey and things got better. Easier,” you said, reliving the memory. “Besides I didn't want your first meeting with her to be about money. I didn’t want it to seem like I was coming after you because Walkman Records hit it big. To be honest, I wanted to accomplish something and rub it in your face,” you admitted, forcing a soft chuckle out of him. 

“Typical, YN.” He shook his head, refusing to hide the growing grin on his face. “I am proud of you and how far you’ve come in your career. You also did an amazing job raising Meredith along the way,” he admired as his smile drifted away. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for either of you.” Your eyes shot up to him.

“You have nothing to apologize for. It’s not your fault. I don’t blame you for not being there. It was my choice not to tell you about her.”

“I still feel like I owe you.”

“You don't owe me anything, Peter,” you snapped, raising your voice a bit.

“So then, why didn't you tell me about her sooner?” Peter questioned, biting his lip and keeping his eyes on you.

“I have…I have my reasons.” you sighed, looking away from him. 

“Which are?” 

“Can we not get into this right now?”

“Okay,” Peter paused, clearing his throat. “The reason I came by is I wanted to ask if um--” he sat back down, wringing his hands together “--if I could be more involved in Meredith's life. To be honest, I don’t know how to be a dad, but I don't want to be an absent father like mine was. I know it’s a lot to ask because you don’t trust me, especially with all that’s happened between us.” Peter took a deep breath before continuing, “I will take whatever I can get. Once a week, once a month, an afternoon, anything. All I want is to be apart of her life.”

You stared at him, not knowing how to answer. This surprised you. You never would’ve thought he would want to be apart of her life, let alone yours again. “Mer told me all about the little adventures you took her on while I was in the hospital,” you recalled. “It's been an earful, but every time she tells me about them, she's more excited than the last time. I can’t thank you enough for doing that. I appreciate you getting her mind off things because it’s exactly what she needed.”

“Happy I could help.” Peter nodded as a coy smile appeared on his face.

“How do you think she was doing with me being in the hospital? I mean, I got her side of the story and Gamoras, but since you spent the most time with her, you might have a better understanding.”

“I could tell at certain times it was hard on her. I don’t know if anyone else could see it, but she was scared. I mean, what little kid wouldn’t be seeing a parent like that?” Peter bit his lip, furrowing his brows at the ground. “Meredith’s a tough little girl. A lot like you in many ways. She wants to stay strong for everyone, but when it was the two of us, she was worried. I was, too.” He looked up, keeping a watchful eye on you. “All I tried to do was be there for her and do what I thought you would do in this circumstance.”

“Thanks for keeping a watchful eye on her. Gamora assumed something was going on with her, but Meredith can be hard to read sometimes,” you stated with a half shrug.

“Well, I knew her mother pretty well,” he smirked, making you shake your head at him. 

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you before you spoke up. “Mer continues to ask me about when she gets to see her daddy again." Peter's mouth twitched, trying to hide his smile. “Truth is I want you involved in her life, and since you want to be, I will not step between you two. She’s your daughter, too.” Peter broke into a full-blown grin, unable to keep the enjoyment off his face. “I was thinking instead of Mer coming to my work daycare after school, you could pick her up and hang out with her until I'm done with work. Gamora told me that worked well when I was asleep. Then after a while, you could take her one night over the weekend. Does that sound like something you would be interested in?"

“Yes, absolutely, I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I can text you the details, and we can start next week when I go back to work?”

“Yeah, sounds perfect. Thank you.”

After showing Peter out, you and Wanda got to work finishing the final touches of Peppers trip while scarfing down Chinese food. Wanda narrowed down which store sold the most of our products and scheduled a customer meetup at that location. You scheduled appointments with the realtor to view a few properties for the new Potts of Honey facility Pepper hoped to open up in New York within the next year.

“So, that Peter guy is Meredith's dad?” Wanda asked, trying to keep her voice calm. 

“Yup,” you answered between bites, jotting down some notes for Pepper to look over. You didn’t want to make a bigger deal out of this than necessary.

“You weren’t kidding about how good-looking he is,” Wanda agreed, ignoring her work.

“Hmm.”

“Bet he looks good naked, too,” Wanda winked in your direction.

“Sure.”

“Is that all you're gonna give me is one-word replies?” You shrugged, chewing your food. “Why was he here? How does he know about Meredith? Are you going to see him again?”

You took a sip of your drink, squinting your eyes at her. “One: He wants to get to know Meredith better and become more involved in her life. Two: He's known about her ever since my accident. Gamora and I agreed, if anything ever happened to me she would tell him. Three: I will see him again.”

“I bet you two are going to fall in love again,” she squealed, clapping her hands together.

“I don't know about that.”

“You never did tell me what happened between you two.”

“It's not something I like to talk about. I will talk about all the happy moments, but the breakup is something I’d rather forget. Sure, I talked about it in one of our episodes before, but I didn’t go into much detail about it. What I said on there is the extent I will go into sharing about what happened,” you stated, and Wanda shut her mouth and got back to work.

___________

AN: They finally talked well sort of. At least it’s a start! We got a little information about Meredith's life growing up and about the reader's struggles before she got a good job. Yet, their breakup still remains a mystery. Wonder what was said in that podcast she mentioned? Did it come as a surprise that she wanted Peter in Meredith's life? Do you think they will be able to co-parent together, or will it end in another disaster? Time will tell. As always thanks for reading for those that read these notes...haha! 

[xxx-cat-xxx]

let our hearts (like doors) open wide, open wide

Post-Endgame fic with Pepper, Tony, Bruce and Peter. Oh, and there’s a baby as well. No spoilers, this was written before the movie. It was a short drabble and then something went out of control and now it’s 3k words, but I promise that it contains a happy ending and an Irondad scene.

TWs: Vomiting and panic attack.

Thank you @whumphoarder for beta-reading.

It’s a night full of stars and tenderness when Pepper tells him that she is finally pregnant.

It hadn’t been easy with her being already well into her thirties. A long chain of failed attempts and endless doctor appointments lay behind them, but Pepper, an optimist at heart with the patience of a saint, never lost hope.

They have dinner on the rooftop in order to celebrate, SI appointments and Tony’s lab all but forgotten. They dance and laugh and make out a little, the air heavy with anticipation. Everything is perfect for once.

Right until it’s not.

He’s holding her from behind, taking in her face over her shoulder, absorbing the dimple on her cheek, the smile hanging on her lips. His fingers trail somewhere between the hem of her skirt and her bellybutton, light and teasing. He can feel it already, feel where her abdomen is just the slightest bit swollen.

There’s a life under her skin, just below my hands, he realises. His heartbeat speeds up at the thought of it, the thought that it’s his, it’s ours, our responsibility, and if I fail again -  

His heart beats faster and faster and then it’s all he can hear, the noise of it ringing in his ears and cancelling out everything else. A heavy weight settles on his chest, choking him, and suddenly there’s not enough oxygen left in the world.

“I need to - I gotta- ” He loosens his embrace on her and stumbles away. Don’t touch her. Don’t hurt them. “I’m sorry, Pep,” he rasps.

He’s out of the door before she can call him back.

*

Bruce has witnessed a number of unexpected incidents in the Avengers compound’s common kitchen, but he never imagined that he’d one day walk in on Pepper Potts violently throwing up into the sink.

“Are- Are you okay?” he asks, a little too perplexed for any more profound question.

“Oh, Bruce,” Pepper pants. “Yes, yes, I’m fine, just - give me a sec, okay?” She swallows hard, then loses the fight against another retch.

“What’s going on?” He carefully pats her on the expensive-looking blazer she’s wearing, then checks the back of her neck for a fever while she heaves again.

“Don’t know,  just…ate something bad, I guess,” she replies when she is finished with the current round, avoiding his gaze and thus confirming his suspicion.

“Mm-hm.” He watches her rinse her mouth and then motions for her to sit down at the large kitchen table while he starts the water in the sink, cleaning the mess and getting rid of the smell.

“What's the time?” Pepper asks hoarsely.

“Almost seven.”

“God, I need to go.” She closes her eyes for a moment, breathing deep through the nausea. She is still more than pale under her make-up. Her face looks tired and the dark circles under her eyes that Bruce knows all too well from the months behind them speak of yet another sleepless night.

“You should get some rest, Pepper,” he assesses. “Go back to bed, reschedule whatever meeting you were heading to.”

“Can't. Today’s the bidding for the harbour reconstruction. The shareholders made it clear that…” she cuts herself off upon seeing the lost look on his face. “Anyways, it’s important.”

“I see.” Bruce gives a sympathetic wince when she stifles another gag into her fist.

“Oh god, I’m such a mess,” she whispers.

“Okay. Breathe, Pepper.” It’s still been a while since she’s been that upset, but Bruce has seen her in much, much worse states and he knows that this is only a temporary crisis. “You got five minutes? I'll make you some ginger-lemon water. That should help with the nausea.”

“Yeah,” she exhales. “Yeah, okay. Thank you, Bruce.”

“Hey. We’re past this, right?”

He doesn’t have to say what he is thinking about, knows that it’s still all too present in her mind. The weeks of waiting after the catastrophe, every day tainted with the news of more and more dead friends, colleagues, long-forgotten family members. All the nights spent waiting for a sign from the skies, willing for something, anything to let them know that there was still hope, that Tony might still be out there somewhere.

She’d refused to give up, even for a second. He’s been gone before, she’d said, he’s always come back. He’s a survivor, Bruce. And although she’d been just as broken as him, more than once it had been her who’d held him when the world threatened to break down over his head. That had been the time when he’d learned the true value of the woman who, against all odds, chose Tony above all others. It’s the worst way they could have gotten close to each other, but Bruce is glad that they did.

“You’re right,” she chuckles sadly. Then, almost inaudibly, she adds: “I’m pregnant, Bruce.”

He sets the cup of ginger water in front of her before sitting down on the opposite side of the table.

“I know,” he admits calmly, a bit of relief in his voice.

“H-How?” she asks in surprise, looking up at him.

“I’m a doctor, Pepper. And I’m not stupid. I’m glad you told me, though, I don’t know how long I could’ve played along.” He hesitates for a second. “It’s good news. Something happy, after everything.”

“God, Bruce, please don't tell anyone yet.”

“Hey. I would never.” Following an instinct, he lays his hand on hers that’s clutching the beverage. “Does Tony know?”

“I told him last night. He’s...I don’t know. I mean, we decided this together, but I guess he needs some time to get used to it.” She takes a sip of the water, closes her eyes for a moment. “This actually helps a lot.”

“I often drink it after the transformations,” Bruce remarks.

They sit silently for a minute before Pepper speaks again.

“Tony...He’s different since…” She leaves the end open, but of course he knows what she is talking about.

There’s no term for it, really. How can there be a word for the end of the world? They call it the snap in the media and while joking around, but it sounds inappropriate, almost small compared to the impact it had. Half a universe extinguished. Everyone brought back in the end, thanks and a toast to the Avengers. But their victory came at a cost, and Bruce would dare to say that there’s nobody in the world who was left untouched.

“Aren’t we all?”

Pepper empties the cup and then stands up slowly. A bit of colour has returned to her cheeks. “Okay, I really need to get going.”

Bruce takes the cup and puts it in the dishwasher. “Where’s Tony now?”

“Downstairs, I think. He wasn’t there when I woke up. Could you check that he eats something?”

“Sure,” Bruce says with a nod. “Pepper?”

She turns in the doorway. He steps forward and gives her a brief, careful hug. “Stop worrying so much. It’s gonna be alright.”

*

When Bruce enters the lab with a plate of sandwiches, Tony is sitting reclined in an office chair, one arm covering his eyes, facing away from the door.

Bruce sighs. Talking about changes. In the couple of years that he’s been living under the same roof with him, Tony has always been working on something. Or rather, on multiple somethings simultaneously, on top of scolding dummy, exercising, and flirting with Pepper.

“What -?” Tony flinches when Bruce touches his shoulder lightly, then catches himself. “Oh, hey. Didn't expect you here.” He blinks hard against the lights.

“Thought I'd get you some food.”

“Oh, that’s great.”

It’s a plain lie. Tony eyes at the sandwiches with a mixture of disgust and barely concealed nausea, his pallor turning ashen.

“Or maybe later.” Bruce hurries to set the plate aside, definitely having seen enough vomit for the day. “Friday, lights at fifteen per cent,” he orders. Tony makes a small sound of relief when the room goes dark.

“How bad is that migraine?” Bruce asks doubtfully.

“Oh, that? It's nothing. Just a headache, really.” Tony makes to get up, but Bruce gently pushes him back down.

“You should rest.”

“Nah, not working. Peter's coming over later to fix his suit and Pepper will kill me if I don't get the proposal for that rebuilding thingy done today…”

Bruce feels like he's caught on repeat, not sure whether he should be amused or desperate. For all their differences, Pepper and Tony can be remarkably alike when it comes to being the epitome of workaholism.

“Fine,” he sighs. “Stay put, I'll get you something for that headache…”

Bruce returns with a couple of painkillers that Tony swallows dry.

“Okay, spit it out already,” the engineer sighs when Bruce hovers awkwardly behind his chair.

“Spit out what?”

“You’re an awful liar. Pepper told you, didn't she?”

“Yeah, well... kind of. I walked in on her puking into the sink.”

“Oh shit.” Tony slumps a bit, guilt written clearly over his face. “Is she okay?”

Bruce shrugs. “I think so. She left for her meeting.” He hesitates. “Uhm, congratulations are in order, I guess.”

“Yeah. Thanks. Okay.” Tony takes a couple of deep breaths, his hand balling into a fist.

“What’s going on?” Bruce asks with a hum.

“Nothing,” Tony deflects.

“It’s obviously something.”

“I can’t - not right now, okay?” Tony swallows, visibly fighting for control.

“It’s okay, Tony. We don’t have to talk about this immediately. I understand.”

“I know.” Tony offers a weak smile. “Everyone’s so goddamn kind and understanding and I-”

He doesn’t say I don’t deserve it, but Bruce can finish the sentence himself.

“I’ll be there, if you want to talk,” he offers.

“I just…I'll take a shower,” Tony responds. He gets up slowly and staggers only a little when he brushes past Bruce. “Thanks for checking in.”

*

“Okay, Mr. Stark, what’s going on?” Peter asks, a hint of exasperation in his voice, when Tony drops the soldering iron for the third time in a row and barely avoids setting his own sleeve on fire. “And don’t say you’re fine, because I know that you’re not.”

Peter takes the tool out of his mentor’s hand and sets it back into the bracket. It’s something he would’ve never dared to do before the snap, but things have changed since he's come back. May tells him that he acts more grown-up, more sincere, but also more serious. Like there's a big grey cloud hovering over you, she'd observed one time, and Peter had shrugged. Maybe that’s just what being dead for a year does to you.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tony says flatly. “You should get going, kid. It's about time for your beauty sleep.”

Peter frowns. “What, before we finish the upgrades?” Tony had called Peter for a complete overhaul of the Spider-Man suit's hardware, and they'd barely finished half of it by now.

“I can do that alone. You’re here to learn, not because I need your help.”

Denial. Sarcasm. Insult. There they are, all of Tony’s defence mechanisms laid out clearly in front of him. Any time before Peter would have obeyed and left with a dent in his self-confidence and a heavy feeling of concern in the pit of his stomach, too afraid to oppose his mentor. But not anymore.

“Mr. Stark. Please.”

“I just -” Tony draws a breath before replying in a whisper. “Pepper’s pregnant.”

He lets out the air slowly through gritted teeth, seeming to shrink a little as he does so.

“That’s-” Peter feels warmth spreading through his chest. “Mr. Stark, that’s great news. I’m so happy for you, for both of you.”

Tony doesn't smile, doesn't do anything, really, and Peter’s cheerful words, despite their genuineness, suddenly have a hollow sound to them.

“Yeah,” Tony finally replies, not quite looking up at Peter. “I guess so.” His left hand is trembling hard. He quickly covers it with his right.

“You, um, you wanted that, right? I thought you’ve been trying for a while…” Peter trails off when a hint of panic crosses Tony’s face.

“Course I wanted that,” Tony retorts defensively.

“I just - I’m happy for you. You really deserve it, after all that happened, you know-”

He understands that the choice of words was wrong the moment he hears Tony’s breath and heartbeat picking up speed.

“Out,” Tony orders, and Peter isn’t sure whether that’s meant for him or for the engineer himself, but he decides to ignore it either way.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“I can’t  - Leave me -” Tony pants, his chest heaving. “Oh, fuck.”

He makes to stand and probably escape, but his knees buckle as soon as he puts his weight on them. Tony slides down at the side of the workbench before Peter can round the table and crouch next to him.

“It’s okay, Mr. Stark. You’re okay,” Peter tries to reassure him while biting down the panic welling up in his own chest. “You’re having an anxiety attack.”

“I know - doesn’t help - to tell me-” His mentor is clutching a trembling fist to his chest while gasping for breath, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. “Fuck, not now.”

“It’s okay,” Peter murmurs, biting his lip. It’s not the first time either of them has had a breakdown in front of the other, but he’s never seen Tony cry before. He lays a hand on the older man's shoulder, careful not to get too close. “Breathe, just breathe. Count backwards from ten with me, okay?”

It takes nearly three rounds of counting, but finally the attack ebbs away. When he can breathe a little better again, Tony pulls his knees to his chest in an unusually vulnerable gesture. He lays his greying head on them for a bit until the trembling dies down before finally glancing up at Peter.

“That sucked.” Tony looks pale and utterly drained, and there is still moisture around his eyes. “Gosh, I didn’t want you to see that.”

“It’s okay, really. Uhm...Should I get you some water?” Peter asks, unsure of what to do now.

“Nah,” Tony replies, drawing in a slightly shaky breath, “Don't think my stomach’s up for it.”

Peter feels his own clench in sympathy. “Sorry that I triggered you,” he says in a quiet voice.

“Wasn’t your fault, kid.” Tony gets to his feet a bit unsteadily, supporting himself on the workbench. “Today was a panic attack waiting to happen. Was just a matter of time till I'd spazz out.” Dum-E, whirring worriedly, wheels an office chair towards him and Tony lets himself fall into it gratefully.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Peter asks hesitantly, standing up and leaning against the edge of the table..

“Absolutely not,” Tony huffs. He picks up a wrench and fiddles with it in his hands. “But I guess I owe you an explanation. And I don’t want you to get any wrong ideas about me and the…the baby.”

Peter silently waits for Tony to compose himself. He can count the number of times his mentor has opened up to him on one hand, so he is hyper-aware of the fragility of this moment. He knows that one wrong word could cause the other man to draw his walls back up immediately.

“I don’t think I’m ready,” Tony finally admits. “I don’t think I can do this.” He throws up his hands. “Honestly, I had a fucked-up childhood, and I have no idea how to do it better than my dad. I destroyed so many lives along my way, Peter, and I really don’t want to destroy another one.”

Peter waits for more to come, but Tony goes silent, gazing into the distance as if he is looking at ghosts from another time.

“I…I think you’re wrong,” Peter responds carefully. “I think you’ll be a great dad.” He slowly steps in front of Tony, staring into his eyes. “Look around you. Look at the lab, at all the time we spend here. Did your father ever do anything like that with you?”

Tony shakes his head. There’s so much fear on his face that moment, so many painful memories, and once again Peter wishes that he could just erase Titan from both of their minds. Because of course that’s what it ultimately comes down to. It’s not like they ever talk about it, Tony being Tony, but Peter knows that his mentor has never forgiven himself for what happened out there, knows that the year in which he has tried time and time again to bring back the ones he’d lost has left deep marks in his heart and soul.

“I never really had a father,” Peter says carefully. “Uncle Ben…we were close, I guess, but it wasn’t the same.”

Peter hesitates for a moment, but the time seems right. When the snap happened, during that brief moment when he knew for sure that he was going to die, there was so much he regretted not having said. He doesn’t want to feel like that ever again in his life. “But if I could choose one, I would happily pick you.”

Tony looks at him, his eyes large and dark and a little warm now.

“I…” He swallows, once, again. “Glad you’re back, kid.”

*

It's a night full of thunder and rain when Morgan is born. There’s pain and fear and more than once Tony has to count himself back to reality, swallowing down guilt and ignoring the voices in his head that mock him for panicking when Pepper is the one doing all the hard work.

It’s not easy for any of them. But Bruce is just outside in the waiting room, making coffee for Tony when his jittering hands won’t obey anymore. Rhodey is texting him for updates every couple of minutes, messages that make Tony feel a tiny bit better even when he doesn’t reply to them. And Peter swings by just before dawn, minutes before Morgan comes into the world. He stands there next to Bruce, his grin spreading from ear to ear over his red face while they wait to greet the newest member of the family.

Inside, Tony kisses Pepper, wipes away the sweat and tears from her face, kisses her again. Then he takes a deep breath and looks at the child in her arms, branding every detail of that moment into his memory.

My greatest creation… His father is still in his head, will always be there. The path behind him is bloody and there is nothing he can do to change that.

But the road ahead is yet untouched. Pepper smiles exhaustedly at him when the baby makes a small sound between a croak and a cry, then blinks up at Tony. His heart fills with a kind of warmth that he’s never felt before. Ever so carefully, Tony takes Morgan into his arms. Nothing is impossible anymore.

Link to another pregnant Pepper fic

[tellmenauineo]

Boogie nights

pairing: vernon x reader

genre: smut, friends-to-lovers!au

summary: vernon thought he could make a home video with his best friend

warnings: mentions of porn, weed smoking

word count: 2.5k

“Who do you think you are to ask for that kind of favors?” you raise your brow.  

 “Your friend,” Hansol shrugs. “And it’s not a favor. It’s an offer.”

The first mistake. 

Hansol is not your friend. You can’t be friends with someone you are desperately in love with.  

He doesn’t know about your feelings – and maybe sitting on his shabby sofa, blasting a joint, passing a spliff to each other, and eating an already cold pizza, instead of avoiding him to famish affection, is the second mistake. 

“I decline your offer.” 

“But why?” whines Hansol, pouting his lips.

“Oh, do I really have to explain?” you turn your head to him to get a better look at his face. Somehow, he manages to shine even in a smoking haze enveloping the room, with screamy colors of tv screen gleaming on his fine-featured face. “Because it makes me sick.” 

“Come on,” he lets out a husky chuckle. “In the name of art!”

“Dude, do you hear yourself?” you fail to hold back your laughter. “Pornographic movies aren’t art.”

“Okay then,” he is not going to give up. “Do you hear yourself? You’re declining a leading part in my movie-”

“An X-rated movie,” you add, stubbing out a joint, and Hansol waves your remark away.

“And we both know you have a film face,” he pretends he doesn’t hear your disdained sniff and continues his poor reasoning, while his hand is reaching out for a melty chocolate bar. “Mingyu already said yes, it’s not a big deal.”

“Pff, sure thing. Mingyu is a lowkey exhibitionist,” your words make Hansol snicker.

You are not that stupid to drag yourself into that, you think. You are not even that high to settle for that.

But when your eyes pause on Hansol, the image he gives you makes you feel that you are already in a porno film – seeing him licking the chocolate off his fingers has your breath caught in your throat and boils your insides, and you hope your voice doesn’t betray you.

“I don’t wanna film with him,” you curse yourself for choosing the words – you should say that you don’t want to film at all, not making your words sound like a Freudian slip.

Hansol pretends to be thinking, taping his fingers on his chin, and after giving a hum of approbation, nonchalantly speaks up:

“You can film with me.” 

You fasten your eyes on him, forgetting how to blink. Tree Trunks and Mr. Pig’s singing about being severed with each other wafts to your ears through the mist – his proposal tingles in your ears.

“W-what?” you falter.

“You heard me,” Hansol leans to you and brings a hand up to twirl a strand of your hair around his finger. “I can be your partner. You trust me, right?” it sounds like a statement, not a question, coming from him. And it is a true you can’t argue with. You trust him. You have been thrusting him all these years – and maybe that is the reason why one day you woke up in the morning with a realization you are in love with the boy with light-brown eyes.

Hansol is so close to you, too close, that you are able to count his long eyelashes if you try. He is settling his weight on his elbow, his head is resting on your shoulder, and you bite back the temptation to nuzzle your nose into his soft locks.

It would be too much, you suppose.

Funny, his suggestion to shoot a porn film with him doesn’t seem too much for you.

Okay, time for putting on your thinking cap.

The best-case scenario: you and your closest friend (also the reason of your restless nights) Hansol have sex, he gets his wish (a damn home video, for fuck’s sake), you have the desired intimacy and you pretend this never happened and continue being friends.

Seems pretty well.

But in the worst-case scenario, you and your closest friend (also the reason of your restless nights) Hansol have sex, he gets his wish (a damn home video, for fuck’s sake), you ruin your friendship and start avoiding each other, you get a broken heart.

It is a disaster.  

But with his lips brushing against the fabric of your t-shirt, the thoughts fade from your mind. 

“A penny for your thoughts, boo,” says Hansol.

“We could have some fun,” you vaguely decide. “If you promise me one thing.”

“Anything for you.”

“This video. It’s just for me and you.”

“You have a low opinion of me,” he pouts, bringing your hand to his mouth and kissing your knuckles. “Everything we do is just for you and me.”  

“Then bring the camera, Kubrick,” you whisper against his cheek and see a winning smile flits across his face. You feel his lips on yours, stealing a kiss from you.

“Wait a sec,” he says, getting up off the couch to get the old Fujifilm his parents gave him on his twelfth birthday, his voice holds an excitement.  

You blow out a breath, trying to calm down, while he is sweeping the empty box of pizza off the desk and settling the camera on the coffee table. 

“Perfect,” mutters Hansol, checking the angle, and faces you. 

You give your hand to him and he takes it, slipping his slender fingers through the spaces between your own. 

“Are you sure?” he looks examiningly at you. You see no hint of the usual tranquility in his big eyes.

Or maybe you just don’t want to see it.

“For the record,” you smirk at the fact it is not a figure of speech right now. “Yes, I am. It’s not a big deal, right?” you repeat his words.

He nods and you tug him along to the sofa. You find courage to straddling him, his hands on your waist, your knees against his thigs. Hansol leans up to give you a delicate kiss that develops into a heated one and you eagerly part your lips, making room for his tongue. Your right hand sliding up from his neck to grip a fistful of his hair and tug on it and he moans into your mouth.

“The first kink is exposed,” you pant into the kiss, your teasing tone is tempting him. He presses open-mouthed kisses to your neck, biting at a sensitive skin, and before you let a whine, sucking it into his mouth again. 

“Let’s find out yours then,” he grunts against your skin, being too occupied with leaving red spots on your neck. Your brain reels at his words and you dare yourself to grind your clothed core against firm muscles of his thigh, a dulcet moan escaping your lips.

“Don’t stop,” he groans into your ear, sinking his teeth into your ear lobe. You continue rubbing against the fabric of his jeans, his right hand has a strong grip on your hip, ready to control your movements at any moment. “Does it feel good, baby girl?”

“So good,” you moan out.

“Pull my hair, doll,” commands Hansol, moving the other hand under your t-shirt to cup your breast through your bra, his fingers tenderly pinching your nipple. 

His mouth falls open when your palm grabs hair on the back of his head and tugs on them roughly. Hansol has his eyes glued on you – blushes mantled on your cheeks, your lips slightly parted, your eyes sparkling with craving – and it almost makes him tremble. He needs more, he needs to touch you, he needs to feel you, he heeds you.  

At that moment, this odd definition of friendship doesn’t concern him at all, as it does usual.

“Sit on my face,” he speaks right out. “I wanna taste you.”     

When you hear these words, you bite your lower lip to suppress a moan, pressing your core particularly hard on his thigh.  

“Okay,” you breathe.  

“Let’s get rid of that, then,” he says, referring to your jeans already soaked panties.

Well, you really want him that much.  

He unbuttons and unzips your jeans and you strip the piece of clothing off, kicking it on the messy floor. You pull your t-shirt over your head and let him unclasp your bra.  

“You’re really wet, baby,” he coos, his fingers are playing with your clothed clit.  

“And you don’t help at all,” you pout.  

A mischievous grin wrings his lips, while he hooks his fingers beneath the thin fabric of your panties and tug them down your legs. A buzz in your core increases and you take a deep breathe, like you are going to dive into the sea.  

Hansol is laying on his back and you are making you way up his body on your shaking knees. Suddenly, you hesitate, being assailed with doubts, and the boy slips his arms down the sides of your thigs and pulls you further, his head right underneath your slit. Still holding your legs, he pushes you down to his head, making you firmly seat on his face. He runs his tongue along your folds, taking a long lick. You let a deep groan and move your hand to his hair, tugging them and Hansol growls your name, sending vibrations through your core, and press his starving mouth against your center even harder. His tongue dips down into your entrance, exploring your slit, his nose is brushing against your clit, and you whimper at the sensation. His sinful mouth makes you balance on the edge and when his hand moves to squeeze your breast, massaging your sensitive nipple, your orgasm hits you. 

You fell on your back, eyes closed, with your hand resting on your chest in an effort to catch your breath.

It doesn’t last long, though.

You feel his warm breathing fanning on your face and your eyes immediately shut open. Hansol is above you, resting his weight on his elbows, and looks in your eyes. You cup his cheek, closing the distance between you to place a kiss on his swollen lips.

“Take your clothes off,” you order and he silently obeys, throwing his tee somewhere off the couch, wiggling out of his jeans and boxers.  

“Um, do you-” he starts and you nod, not even letting him finish.  

“In my purse.”

Reaching into your wallet on the coffee table, Hansol pulls out a condom and rips the plastic wrapper with his teeth and roll it onto his cock, the reddening tip of which is leaking with pre-cum. Your eyes drifts from his cock to his eyes and he grins at you lazily, well aware of the object you kept your eyes on.  

“Don’t you even dare,” you warn him and he nonchalantly shrugs.  

“I didn’t say anything.”

Hansol leans over you, rubbing the tip of his member along your folds, and you buck your hips into him. The boy hisses at the sudden movement, his leg almost twitches and you hear the whoomp. 

“Shit,” Hansol mutters, looking over his shoulder. “Camera has fallen.”

“So lift it up, Sollie,” you say in your sweet voice, not really wanting to part your bodies apart. Your hand is reaching out to cup his balls, gently squeezing them.  

“Oh shit,” he moans in pleasure. “Fuck it.”  

He slips inside of you and starts pushing into you and pulling out, a moan is escaping his mouth at the feeling of your walls clenching and tightening around him. He is thrusting into you desperately, merciless even, and you bite his shoulder.

“Spread your legs wider, baby,” he sniffs into your mouth, sucking your lower lip into his mouth. “Let me fuck you into this shitty coach.”

You comply and his thrusts become more brutal, quicker and you feel a drop of sweat falls on your chest.  

This shitty couch is squeaking, your head is buzzing and he is panting – and the rest of world is mute. It always has been your thing – when you and Hansol are together, other people don’t exist: just you, him, your stupid jokes, Post Malone’s songs, cheapjack horror movies and giggles. But this time everything is different and hope and fear alternate in your breast – hope of love and fear of losing him – and you feel like you are on the verge of losing your mind.  

His hand is rubbing circles at your clit, you press your lower body to meet his thrusts, and that is it – a total bliss, your mind drifts away from your body and you climax with his name on your lips. Hansol growls once more at the way your walls are fluttering around his member and pumps into you with firm thrust, realizing into the condom.  

You almost start feeling how terrible your position is – what have you done? - but Hansol breaks the thread of your thoughts. Still in you, his face buried in the crook of your neck, he mumbles in a slumberous voice: 

“It’s not my the only one kink, you know.”  

You silently chuckle, combing your fingers through his hair.

“Okay,” you answer, your own voice is hushed that you barely hear yourself.  

“Maybe you’d be interested,” he pauses, nuzzling his nose in your neck. “To discover others, I mean.”  

Hansol wants to hit himself. He doesn’t think he is bad at expressing ideas through words – but now, oh dear God, he is insecure, worried about rejection and prefers to sound disinterested than springing his feelings on his best friend.

So he sounds like an idiot.

“Well, it’s an attractive offer,” you look straight at the poster of a rocket, made in psychedelic bright colors, once again wondering how Hansol and Joshua find it a cool thing.  

When Hansol reaches his hand to squeeze yours, it doesn’t seem a stupid thing to push yourself into this mess, not entirely knowing what is going between you and him since now.  

Maybe your philosophy professor was right and hope is more powerful than fear. 

You slouch on the chair, taking your jacket off.

“Sorry I’m late,” you say and look around the cafeteria, crowded with students. It is almost a miracle that Jun managed to find an empty table for you.

“It’s okay. I expected nothing less,” Jun mocks and you roll your eyes at his sarcastic tone. He shifts hiss gaze off your face to your neck and his eyes grow wider.

“Hey! What’s that?”

“Mosquito bites,” you shrug, but your hand is moving to your neck in a weak attempt to cover crimson marks. You will kill Hansol.

“It’s an early March,” Jun notes and it is clear to you what he is driving at.

“Have you already ordered?” you ask instead, pretending to scanning through menu. The boy narrows his eyes and huffs in annoyance.  

“You’re not getting out of this,” he warns you and you hum along.

[you 16:38] jun keeps asking about hickies i got from YOU  

[uncle vernon 16:40] say you went on a date

[uncle vernon 16:40] with me 🤪

[you 16:41] 🙄🙄

[uncle vernon 16:41] 😘

[uncle vernon 16:42] should i treat my best actress to dinner?

[you 16:44] maybe... you should

[uncle vernon 16:44] wear your fanciest dress!!

[uncle vernon 16:44] it’s a special occasion

[uncle vernon 16:45] 😉

Nothing can be stupid with Hansol, after all.  

[neutral-nobody]

Cake

A/N: But Noots, it’s December, why are you writing a fic set at Halloween? Because it’s the only motivation I’ve had to write in 3 years so I’m going to bloody well do it. Finally my babies get some love.

Synopsis: The stars align, Operation Cake is a go.

Word Count: 2795

Virus World belongs to @voiceoflarka​

“So you’re definitely coming home, right?”

“Mana, for the last time yes,” Mu chuckled, shifting his weight to his other leg as he leaned against the wall. “How many times am I going to have to say it?”

“Hm...” Mana pulled the phone away from her ear for a moment, mouthing to Liadan in the other room “one sec”. Liadan nodded and went back to chatting with the rest of the team, currently all sitting on the couches together, waiting for Mana to report back.

“Come on, am I that unreliable?”

“No!” Mana exclaimed, immediately jumping back into the conversation. “No, of course not. I’ve just never heard of you getting an early mark from the Haul.”

“It does happen,” Mu looked over his shoulder to check on the others, who looked like they were gearing up to get back on the move. He bit his lip but then softly chuckled. “Usually through injury though.”

“And you’re not injured right? Mu please-”

“Mana."

“Alright, alright,” Mana sighed and dropped that point of conversation, knowing it wouldn’t get them anywhere. “You’re not injured, you’re heading home early, and we’ll be seeing you in two days. Promise?” Before Mu could reply, Mana heard shouting on his end.

“Gotta go!”

“Mu, wait-”

Mana’s pleas went unheard as Mu hung up on her. A groan escaped her as she made her way into the lounge room, her teammates immediately turning to her as she entered the room.

“I take it that things didn’t go well with Operation Cake?” Nao asked bluntly, noticing Mana’s deflated expression.

“Well... not exactly...” Mana mumbled, rubbing her right arm awkwardly as she tried to find the right words to say.

“Usually ending a conversation yelling ‘wait’ isn’t a good thing,” Xav mused.  

“There was yelling on the other end, couldn’t make out what it was about though. Whatever happened, Mu had to go.”

“And he’s not coming back?” Suv asked, a frown on his face. “Of course he’s not.”

“He didn’t say that...”

“What did he say? No interruptions,” Liadan insisted, looking at the rest of the team. “Tell us Mana.”

“He said that a few of them were going home early, since things had been settling down over the previous week there,” Mana said, sitting down next to her. “By early, he meant on Halloween, so not exactly early, but he’d be here in time.”

“Did he promise?” Suv asked, before being glared at by Liadan. “What? It’s a valid question.”

“I... asked him to promise,” Mana sighed and leaned back in the chair. “But when I did it was when he hung up.”

There was a collective groan as everyone else fell back into their chairs as well. Nao crossed his arms and pouted.  

“So we don’t know if he actually will be,” he said bitterly. “And if we go through with this it might be for nothing.”

“We’ve got the M.E.S.S Test on the first of November,” Liadan stated, scrolling through the planner on her phone. “Tomorrow’s the 30th. If we try to plan his birthday now, we’re risking a lot of study time. Delta’s been getting on our case to be ready for this one as well.”

“But if Mu does come back...” Suv had a determined look on his face as he spoke up. “And we haven’t done anything for him, how bad are we going to feel? I’d feel awful!”

“With you there, mate,” Mana agreed solemnly.

“Normally we don’t even have any contact with him, and he’s never said anything like this,” Suv turned to look at Xav pleading, to break the deadlock. “You know I’m right.”

“We need to pass this test, and I don’t like our chances of Mu showing given how the phone call ended,” Xav stated, but then sighed. “But you’re right Suv. If we don’t do anything and he shows up, we’ll regret it.”

“Ugh fine, you’re right,” Nao groaned, but nodded. “It’ll suck if we don’t.”

“Well then...” Liadan stood up, tucking her phone into her pocket. “I’ll spend the night making some flash cards for everyone.”

“And tomorrow?” Mana asked. Liadan offered her a wide grin.

“Tomorrow, Operation Cake is a go.”

---

“Are you sure you don’t want us to buy a cake?” Suv asked, grabbing a shopping list from the kitchen counter. “It’ll give us more time to study.”

Liadan, who was whizzing around the kitchen, shook her head. “No, if we’re going to do this, we do it properly. Which means I make the cake.”

“You got it,” Suv nodded in agreement. “Don’t let Mana near the kitchen.”

“Hey!” Mana scowled. “You’re right, but you don’t have to say it.”

“Alright kids, enough bickering,” Nao pushed past them and grabbed the other shopping list. “No, wait, I wanna go get the snacks.”

“I’ve got that list,” Suv showed it to him. “If you want to come with me, Xav and Mana can be in charge of decorations then.”

“Done, I’m hungry,” Nao shoved his list into Mana’s hands and stood next to Suv.

“Just how much do we need to stick to your lists, Liadan?” Xav asked, peaking over Mana’s shoulder and her’s.

“As long as you get the stuff on there, I won’t mind if you get any extra,” Liadan said, eyes not leaving the recipe on the book propped open in front of her. It had a recipe on it for black forest cake. “Now everyone out of my kitchen! I need to focus.”

“Alright, mum, we’re going,” Nao whined, grabbing Suv by the arm and dragging him out.

“We’ll see you this afternoon,” Xav gave her a half wave, but put his arm back down when he realized she would not be responding. Liadan was mumbling something about ‘aesthetic’ when Mana closed the door. The group headed for the train station, catching the train to the Disney District, at the request of Liadan. Mana, giving the decoration list a proper lookover once they were seated, narrowed her eyes.

“Apparently we’re having a Halloween themed birthday, I guess,” she mumbled. Xav gave her a light smack on the shoulder.

“Mu actually likes Halloween,” Xav stated. “Don’t be a party pooper.”

“Plus, at this stage? Birthday stuff will be hard to find,” Suv added. “Well, hard to find compared to Hallo- OH NO!”

“What?!” Nao shrieked, jumping back at Suv’s sudden exclamation.  

“I promised I’d be at the Hallo-Palooza,” Suv sighed. “It’s tomorrow night, Nova forced me to go.”

“Tell her you’re busy,” Mana said. “It’s important.”

“Don’t tell her no yet,” Xav shook his head at that. “If Mu is home in the afternoon, we could still go.”

��We?” Suv’s eyes sparkled.

“I... was also asked to go by Luccia,” Xav rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “It is the biggest party on campus after all.”

“Last year was so fun,” Nao reflected, looking wistfully in the distance. “I managed to scare the shit out of both of you.”

“Only cause I had a paper bag over my head!” Xav whined. “Spatial awareness would’ve saved me that night.”

“Too bad.”

“Guys,” Mana interrupted. “Even if Mu comes early tomorrow, going to the party leaves no time for studying.”

“Ah fuck, right,” Suv face-palmed. “M.E.S.S Test.”

“We’ll study tonight,” Xav assured her. Standing up, he grabbed the list off Mana. “We’re at our stop, and since I am the one in this pair who celebrates Halloween, I’ll hold the list.”

“Fine then,” Mana huffed, stepping ahead of him. “I’ll just carry all the stuff, like I carry your weight on this team.”

“And just like how I do all the brain work for you,” Xav chided back. As the two bickered, Suv and Nao shook their heads.

“Maybe we should’ve picked different pairs,” Suv said worriedly. Nao just shook his head and laughed.

“Nah.”

---

“Alright everyone, bags on the table for examination,” Liadan ordered, grabbing her tablet and opening her checklist. The team complied, placing everything carefully on the bench. Carefully going through them, she tapped on the screen whenever seeing something on her list.

“I thought Operation Cake was your plan, Mana?” Xav asked tauntingly.

“It is,” Mana agreed, grinning and giving him a small salute. “I just know to go to the experts on these types of affairs.”

“Glad you admit you suck at this,” Xav laughed, but gave her an appreciative smile.

“Oh good, you guys are fine,” Suv breathed a sigh of relief, and put an arm on Nao’s shoulder.

“Bickering is just our dynamic,” Mana assured. “Trust me, we’re good.”

“Told you,” Nao laughed and held out his hand. “Now give me my money.”

“Your what now?” Xav asked.

“We had a bet on whether or not you two would fight and not get your jobs done,” Nao explained, smiling coyly as Suv handed him $20. “I bet you two would be fine. Suv didn’t have any confidence in you!”

“I did!” Suv exclaimed, running up to Xav and taking his hands. “I trust you both, you just...”

“Are idiots,” Xav offered.

“Yes- No!”

“Yes,” Mana agreed, and the group all laughed together. Suv smiled, relieved at his friends acceptance of their dynamic. He turned to Liadan, who was still mumbling to herself as she finalized her verdict.

“How’d we do, Li?”

“Everything I wanted is accounted for,” she had a big smile on her face as she made the last tick. “Snacks are all excellent, and the choice to add some red vines? Inspired.”

“Thanks!” Suv gave her two thumbs up. “I figured Mana would complain about their being no red snacks otherwise.”

“Exactly,” Liadan gave him a wink as Mana pouted. Turning to her and Xav, Liadan gave them an encouraging nod. “You’ve both done good as well. I can’t believe you found a Halloween happy birthday sign!”

“It took a lot of digging,” Xav explained, admiring the banner proudly as she held part of it up. “It was right at the back of the display!”

“Thank god you knew what you were doing,” Mana said gratefully. “I had no idea what to grab.”

“Either way, both shopping lists, were a success,” Liadan assured her. A wicked grin then spread across her face. “Now to show you what I’ve been working on.”

“Let’s see the cake!” Nao shouted, nearly jumping on the table. Liadan opened the fridge, careful not to open it too wide lest she spoil the surprise. As she turned back, the group’s excited face turned to dismay as she instead pulled out her flash cards from the previous night.

“How could you betray us like this,” Xav whined. “I was so ready!”

“You can all wait for tomorrow,” Liadan chuckled, enjoying the effect her little joke had on her friends. “For now, we study.”

“You’re right, Liadan,” Mana agreed, heading for the couches. “Let’s all have it as a surprise for tomorrow, so we make it through studying tonight!”

“We’ll set up the decorations tomorrow,” Xav said, sitting down next to Mana.

“And prepare the snacks!” Suv added, sitting next to him.

“And hopefully he shows,” Nao sighed, taking one of the solo seats.

“Whatever happens, happens,” Liadan decided, sitting down and passing out the cards. “For now, we study.”

---

The day started out with excitement, as everyone clambered out of their beds to prepare for what was to come. An orange and black banner, with triangular hanging parts, spelt ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’ across the top of the wall. Decorative cobwebs were placed beneath it, the spiders on it wearing makeshift party hats thanks to Suv’s brilliant idea. The wall on the other side of the room had a new corkboard on it, with photos of the team over various stages of their time together. A spot was left in the middle, waiting for a photo from the day to come. The frame was now caked in orange glitter, with some still left on the floor due to Nao going a little overboard. The table had a black and white table-runner going across it, little cats and ghosts dancing on it. Xav had placed some birthday glitter confetti across the runner, which was coloured gold and black, and there were orange and black balloons in every corner of the room.  

As the afternoon rolled around, the excitement had waned a little, but immediately picked up once Liadan had finally brought out her cake to place on the table. The cake, black forest flavoured, was shaped like a pumpkin, covered in orange icing and decorative gold cake-glitter patterns. On top was a black cat decoration, with a red party hat that Mana had snuck on when no one was looking. Xav tried to say it looked to Christmassy, but after the flip of a coin courtesy of Nao, Mana won and the hat was allowed to stay. The snacks were placed on the table, every kind save the red vines were Halloween themed colours. No one dared to touch them, despite their rumbling stomachs, as they waited for the guest of honour. And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

The clock on the wall chimed for the 7pm hour, as Suv let out a heavy sigh.

“Hallo-Palooza is starting now,” he grumbled, pulling out his phone. “I’d better tell Nova I can’t make it.”

“Same for Luccia,” Xav agreed, following Suv’s lead. “Hope they won’t be too mad.”

“I’m sure they’ll understand.”

“I can’t believe we’re gonna wait all night for Mu,” Nao groaned, rubbing his eyes. “This test starts at like 8am, holy shit!”

“We’ve come this far,” Liadan tried to assure them. “We may as well keep waiting, right Mana?”

As Liadan looked to her, Mana did not turn from the window she had been looking out for nearly the last two hours. Her arms were crossed, head turned to the side as she leaned against the wall next to the corkboard. A bitter smile crept onto her face as she turned to her team.

“No, we’re done,” she said, heavy defeat coating her voice. Liadan looked at her in bewilderment.

“But, Mana-”

“We’re done,” she insisted, joining them all sitting on the couches. “Nao’s right, the test is tomorrow and we’re woefully underprepared.”

“But to waste all this-”

“Liadan, this isn’t a waste.”

“Mana’s right,” Xav reached out to take Liadan’s hand comfortingly. “He’s probably been held up.”

“We knew he might not come,” Suv added, taking her other hand. “But we had to try, right?”

“R-Right,” Liadan nodded, squeezing both of their hands. The group looked to Mana, and Liadan sighed. “What do we do now?”

“Clean up, hide the evidence,” Mana ordered, standing up and dusting her hands. “If Mu sees any of this, he’ll feel super guilty for missing. I don’t want that, not when it wasn’t his fault.”

“Good plan!” Suv agreed. “Let’s take it all down.”

“We’ll text the girls, tell them we’re studying like proper gentlemen,” Xav said, giving Suv a wink.

“After that I’ll pull out the flash cards,” Liadan added. “We’ll do a crash course tonight so we’re ready for tomorrow.”

The group worked in a silence of understanding as they put everything away. Most of it was taken to a bin faraway outside, not wanting to leave any trace behind for Mu to sleuth for. They agreed not to throw out Liadan’s cake, since it was too much work to go to waste. The corkboard was taken down and wrapped in wrapping paper, to be used for a gift whenever they saw Mu next. The snacks were brought to the couches as the group began their cram session.

“Shit!” Xav yelled suddenly. As everyone stared, he turned to Mana. “Did you send him anything for his birthday? A text?!”

“Fuck!” Mana cried out, immediately pulling out her phone. “I was waiting to do it in person!”

“Make sure it’s from all of us!” Liadan exclaimed.

“I’ll do you one better,” Mana said, composing herself as she opened the camera app. “Let’s take a selfie of us studying, make it look like we’ve been busy today!”

“You’re a genius!” Suv grinned as he pulled everyone in. “He’ll never suspect anything!”

“Okay, everybody say study!”

“Study~”

“Excellent! Okay...” Mana sat back down as she began to send her text, reading it aloud as she typed. “Dear Mu... happy birthday... sorry for not messaging earlier... we’ve been studying for M.E.S.S... text us when you’re home, love the team!”

“Perfect,” Liadan said. “Send us the photo would you?”

“Oh, okay!” Mana nodded, quickly typing and sending the photo to everyone. Everyone pulled out their phones to look admiringly at the photo. A quiet peace fell over the group, until Xav narrowed his eyes at something in the background of the photo.

“Who left the cake on the table?!”

[louu-7]

everything i don’t know

on wattpad

CHAPTER 6:

“Thara, we have to go. Don’t worry for your father, he just call me and he doesn’t seem to be mad at you.” Sarah’s dad comes in her room and we smile. “OK, I’m coming.”

“I’m waiting for you in the car.”

“Thank you.”

He closes back the door and I look at the girls. My Dad’s gonna kill me. I sigh and get up out of the bed as I take my phone. They both take one of my hands and pull me towards them to hug me. “You’re definitely not a kook, but you’re not a pogue yet.”

“We’re gonna teach you how to become a pogue when you’re a kook, it’s easy, you’ll see.” Sarah kisses my cheek and I smile when they let me go. “Thank you girls, I text you to see when I can join you.”

“We’ll coming at yours to take you to the chateau.” Kiara proposes and I smile even more. “OK, thank you so much you two are the best. I love you babe, Kiara, you too you’re amazing. Later bitches.”

“Call me Kie.”

I send them a kiss and they do the same before I leave the room and close the door to rejoin Sarah’s dad. Ready to get murdered, everything’s OK. To be honest I have a plan, I don’t know if it’s gonna work but I hope.

I sit next to mister Cameron and he starts the car without saying a word. He’s so different than before. I remember the old him; he was so close to Sarah but at the same time really protective and mysterious about some things.

“Thank you again, it’s so sweet from you to let me sleep at yours.”

“No, that’s OK. Come back when you want.”

“Gonna be delicate with my father but I’ll see with him.”

We quickly arrive at home and I get out of the car as I’m thanking again Sarah’s father. I walk to the front door and exhale, girl you just have to apologize and say that you drank to much champagne. Lies are better than get killed by your own father so, I guess it’s my only option here.

I open the door, my dress from last night on, and as I do a first step Dad comes in the lobby to look dagger at me. I look away for a second and am ready to talk when he beats me to it. “We have to talk young girl. Right now.”

“I’m sorry.” His eyes slightly widen and I guess I wasn’t supposed to notice it. He becomes right away colder and… a kind of anger emerges from him and makes me shiver.

“I get too far, I’m sorry for what happened.” My hands are shaking and a feeling of scare take possession of me when he starts walking slowly towards me. My heartbeats resonate in my whole body and he puts his large and freezing cold hand on my cheek before making his eyes diving into mine. My breath becomes irregular and I grit my teeth to prevent myself from saying anything.

Why is he so… impressive and serious. “You’re excuses aren’t gonna settle the situation created by your little scene of last night.” His deep voice, almost whispering at my ear, is giving me chills as a knot is installing in my stomach.

My excuses aren’t gonna be enough and I don’t fucking have anything else to try to be as a good girl as possible. I should say that I’m not gonna be the good girl anymore. Only when I have to. And I’m in one of these moments where the good girl needs to be. “Dad I am really sorry, tell me what can I do to sort everything out.”

“Listen to me. Don’t do anything, is it clear? If I hear that you get out of this damn house I swear you’re not gonna be able to get out for the whole summer. For now go to your room and don’t leave until we call you.”

“Dad please I didn’t want to d-”

“Just go. Now.” I look down at the floor and stop myself from answering him back. “Well…”

He takes off his hand from my face and step aside to let me reach the stairs and rejoin my room. I didn’t miss this room. It’s too boring, I have to do something in there, at least to feel more in my world. And if they don’t like it, who cares, this room’s not theirs.

I lock the door to put on a pajamas and close my blind be in a good mood to read. Staying at home is absolutely not in my new goals, but to get out I must wait for everyone to leave before I do. And, I have to make sure anyone of the watchmen are seeing me; if they are I don’t know what would I say to them… Let’s say I’m not gonna be seen.

“T, can I come in?” Alyssa’s asking with a kinda neutral tone. “Gimme a sec, the door’s locked…” I get up out of the bed as my phone starts ringing. It’s Sarah. I get it and unlocked the door to open it. “So, did your dad killed you?”

“I guess he didn’t but you can’t imagine how cold he was, colder than JJ’s eyes when he’s looking at me, just imagine…”

Alyssa’s coming and frown at me when she understand who’s calling me.

“Are you sure of what you’re sayin’ because it’s serious, worse than JJ’s not possible.” Asks uncertainly Kie.

“I swear it is. Can I call you back later girls, in like, an hour?”

“Yeah, OK, later. And, be careful, we never know what can do something worse than the blond kid.”

“Yeah, bye.”

I look at Alyssa and she sighs silently. I know what does that means when she’s doing that. She’s disappointed, and if she’s telling me off in the next few seconds, I don’t understand. “C’mon, tell me to-”

“No Thara just…” She throws up her hands, kinda weary of me. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“So don’t say-”

“Stop. You used me last night. To help you to be arrogant towards Mom and Dad, in front of the whole island. What’s wrong with you?”

“For someone who didn’t know what to say…

I roll my eyes, rather annoyed that she’s got to accuse me, like everyone. She’s supposed to be on my side, and I didn’t used her, or at least it wasn’t my intention, I just wanted the things to be as clear as possible with Sarah. “You know you can talk to me, why don’t you do it?”

“Look, I didn’t used you, and I would never do that because you’re the only one who’s OK to talk to me and be so kind lately. I just wanna have a life. You all lived your life as you wanted, why wouldn’t I be able to do it as well? You ask me what’s wrong with me, but I’d like to know what’s wrong with Mom and Dad for them to stop me from seeing anybody.”

The conversation becomes heated and that’s not really usual, but if they need that to get what I want then they’re gonna have it. At least if I manage to be as bitterly as now...

“You can’t understand, you’re too young for that and we all have had problems with pogues. We’re just doing our job when we’re protecting you!” She almost shouts out to me as I feel like they’re taking me for a fool. “Of course, yeah, but I don’t need you to protect me! I’m responsible, I know what I’m doing! The only thing that I ask for is a life!” The words are getting out of my mouth by themselves and the anger’s gonna make me say things I don't want. “You, responsible? Are you kiddin’? So what you did last night was responsible and fit for an adult?”

“Sometimes when nobody’s listening to you, you have to act differently. It’s what I did.”

“You know what? Maybe you deserve what Dad’s doing to you by locking you up. You’re not an adult Thara, you’re a capricious little girl who only wants attention.”

She doesn’t even let me answer to this hurtful comment and storms out of my room. The walls are shaking for a second as I clench my fists and grit my teeth, not wanting this mean remark to affect me. I’m stronger than that. I guess I thought I was, because when the first tear’s running down my cheek, I can’t stop the others to do the same.

“Fuck.”

It always has been a big problem for me, I’m too sensitive, too attached to this family, and that’s stopping me from really letting go my anger and tell them hat I think. This argument with Alyssa’s maybe the beginning of me saying what weights on my heart lately.

Someone’s knocking at my door. Again. “What?” The door opens and Isaac appears, looking at me with a disgusted air. I roll my eyes full of tears and look at him, waiting for his remark. “What you did was really fucked-up.”

“Fuck you! Get the hell out!”

“No, because I want you to get it. You have no idea of the Mom’s state last night, why? Because you’re-”

“Just leave me alone Isaac!” I walk to the door and close it before turning the key into the keyhole and let myself slide against the door. Fuck all, all they can do is yelling at me and never listen to what I have to say. For everybody else, the youngest of the family is cherished and loved, but to be honest I’m not asking for that. I wanna live, I don’t think it’s a complex things to get.

~

The girls picked me up more or less two hours ago, and we’re at John B’s house, also known as the chateau. It’s chill, and it kinda makes me feel better than sooner in the morning… I can’t stop thinking about what happened, because… I’m usually never arguing with anyone of them. I don’t wanna say something I’ll regret or anything so I shut up and do my things, but this morning it was… hard and hurtful, I never seen Alyssa like that.

And to add at this shitty family that I love, there’s the arrogant behavior of JJ who’s not feeling better about me than last night. And I do the same, I’m not especially talking to him anyway.

“Who’s in?” I look up at them and frown as they all get up to walk to the boat. “What are we doing?” I rejoin them and we all get into the boat. Am I seasick? Don’t think so, but we never know. “Whatever we want, whenever we want. Remember our mission for the summer?”

“To have good time, all the time.”

“Or, having a better summer than the last one at least, shouldn’t be too hard.” I don’t ask anything about this famous last summer and JJ starts the boat as the girls take off their top to sunbathe.

The afternoon’s going well, we’re talking, laughing and bathe in the marsh. At least they bathe, not me. It’s not that I’m not comfortable in swimsuit but, they’re not all close people to me, at least not yet, so I prefer to keep my clothes on and see how it goes before even think of joining the girls and John B in the water. It doesn’t stop me from having one of the best moment in my life in a long time.

“C’mon girl, the water’s so good!”

“I don’t know, I-”

“Eh, do you wanna be a pogue?” John B’s asks and I open my mouth in front of his kinda threat. C’mon. “Are you sayin’ that if I’m not comin’ into the water I won’t be a pogue? Is that threat?”

“Yeah maybe.” He shrugs as getting close to the boat and then grab the ladder to come back onto the deck, where Pope was sitting against the side of the boat. John B puts his hands on his hips and looks at me insistently, waiting for me to say something.

“What? I have nothing more to say, you’re threatening me dude, and I’m not listening to orders anymore, so no, I’m not going into the water.” I raise my eyebrows and can’t avoid a smile. “Sure ‘bout that?”

For a moment that seems to last an eternity, he doesn’t do anything, and at the second where I dare to look at the girls in the water also looking at me, Pope and him catch hold of me to throw me into the warm water of the silent marsh, where my scream resonate in echo before I dive and come back to the surface to breath and put my hair back.

I look at the two guys who are laughing and giving each other high fives, proud of their little trick, as I slightly sigh in a smile. “Fuck you man.”

We laugh, I swim next to the boat to take off my clothes and I throw them at the boys who are looking at me like they falsely were superior to me. They complain when my soaking wet clothes are punching into their faces and John B shows me his middle finger.

“You really think you scare me?” I laugh and he whispers a little ‘fuck you’ before gathering speed and jumping into the water, splashing the girls by the way.

My first impression about true life is… absolutely freaking great, I love this life and, I’m not ready to go back to the old one. Bye bye to the old Thara, the kook bothered by her parents. Welcome to… Thara Abrams, neither a kook nor a pogue.

[xbananaleensyo]

“I love you” call

Ship: Ohmtoonz

Warnings: mentions of alcohol/drinking

Words: 3,755

Summary: Ohm loved Cartoonz but he doesn’t know. One day, however, Ohm gets drunk and tries to call a certain someone. Aka Ohm is a fluffy, loving drunk and doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.

A/N: Hey guys! This is my first fic I’ve ever made and I’m pretty proud of it : ) So, thank you for reading it and I really appreciate any likes/reblogs/comments! Have a nice day, yo.

              Ohm wasn’t much of a drinker. It just wasn’t something he did much. Sure, he had the occasional glass of wine at dinner parties and the mandatory swig of beer during the Super Bowl but that was all for show. He never really indulged too far into it. He felt, at most, slightly warm from the minimal consumption and can’t remember the last time he truly was drunk. But it seemed tonight was different.

              Ohm tipped the bartender and sipped at the bottle of beer he just ordered. He scanned the ballroom, spotting the couple of the night instantly. It wasn’t hard to find them, their presence radiated happiness, true love flush on their cheeks and gentle stares. Ohm couldn’t help the throbbing sensation in his chest. It was accompanied by a slow southern drawl and cheeky grin that tended to occupy his mind, especially in moments like these. He looked at the newly-wedded couple and wanted it, wanted what they had so badly instead of this longing ache. Ohm sighed, loosening the tie on his neck, before taking a gulp of his drink and joining his peers in another round of shots.

              “Bye! Thank you for bringing me home, dude! I appreciate you and your service.” Ohm yelled back at the uber before shutting the door and walking the steps to his front porch. He searched his pocket for his keys, reminding himself out loud that he needed to give his driver 5 stars and a good review. She was a nice woman, entertaining Ohm’s drunk rambles during the late night drive. He was suddenly glad he decided to carpool to the wedding venue that morning because, based on the slight stumbles up his yard, he can assess that he was in no way, shape, or form able to drive himself home, Heck, he couldn’t even find the right keys to his door.

              “There you are!” Ohm cooed, giggling as he slotted in the key to let him in. Right when he walked through the door, he was greeted with excited paws batting at his ankles and welcoming yips. Ohm was beaming at the sight.

              “Tiny! You’re such a good boy! I love you so much.” He said while carefully kneeling and cuddling the pup.

              “I’m very drunk, Tiny. So we can’t—we can’t play a lot. But just wanted to let you know that I love you and you’re the best.” Ohm sent Tiny back to his doggy bed after one last pat on his back. He decided that it probably wasn’t a good idea to let Tiny sleep in the bed with him tonight. Ohm closed his bedroom door and plopped on his mattress, somehow taking off his shoes and dress pants on the way. He should sleep he thinks but the alcohol was still running hyper in his veins causing him to feel energized and elated and fuzzy. He felt so goddamn warm, honestly. Like he was so happy and wanted to share the happiness with everyone else. And he should. There was so many good people in his life that deserved it and when was the last time he told them how much he loved them? Not enough! He concluded, already taking out his phone out of his vest pocket. He silently thanked technology for having fingerprint recognition.

    Ohm went to twitter first, sending out a quick appreciation post to his fans and followers. Then, to his discord, giving out short but meaningful messages to as many streamer and YouTube friends he can think of. Next, it was his contact list on his phone where he kept the closer people in his life. These were the ones he was gonna spoil with love. Ohm sighed with satisfaction when he hit send on Delirious’ text, stacked with paragraphs on how much he helped him over the years. He went back to his list, finally stumbling on the contact that made his heart burst:

Toonzy <3

              Ohm’s thumbs froze over the screen, not quite sure how to start the text. There was just so many things he loved about Cartoonz—which ones should he say first? Can written text even convey all the things he wanted to say? Can he even type all the love he had for him? Perhaps, he should call him instead.

              “Hi Toonzy!” Ohm greeted excitedly right after the ringer broke. There was silence on the other line though before another voice spoke up.

              “Uhh Ohm? This is Delirious?” Ohm mentally slapped himself, wondering how in the world he messed that one up. But looking at the blurry name on his screen, he can confirm he was, in fact, talking to Delirious. Oh well.

              “Oh…oh! Delirio~ Sorry, I tried calling Toonzy. I wanted to tell him some things.” Ohm thought for a second. Even if it was an accident, he shouldn’t let this call go to waste, right?

              “But-but, wait, don’t hang up yet Delirious! I wanna let you know some nice things too. Because, because lemme tell ya. You, you, are a wonderful man and I’m glad you’re in my life. I love you and…and you deserve all the love!” Ohm heard Delirious’ happy laughter on the other end, pleased that the other enjoyed his declaration.

              “Awww, thanks Ohm. I know, I saw the text messages. Love you too man, really, and I appreciate ya but are you uhhh are you drunk?”

              “Nooo I’m not drunk. I’m really drunk.” He answered, extending the ‘really’ for extra effect. He laughed at his own joke. “There was a wedding Delirio~ my…my sister’s. And it was beautiful! There was decorations and cake and good food and dancing and an open bar…” Ohm chuckled again, remembering the open bar quite well. An amazing add-on to an already amazing wedding.

              “My sister has incredible taste, Del. It, it was nature-themed! There was lots of flowers and leaves. Trees. And…and it made me realize I want a wedding like that…” And at that moment, Ohm made a mistake. He couldn’t stop his rambling, his mouth wanting to say everything on his mind. His feelings were going a completely different direction now and he felt tears starting to collect in his eyes. “But I don’t think I can! I definitely can’t.”

              Delirious seemed surprised by the mood change. He scrambled to find his words before speaking. “Ohm ca—calm down! I’m sure, I’m sure you’ll have a beau-ti-ful wedding with nice flowers and gifts and food! Don’t cry please!” Ohm shook his head even though he knew Delirious couldn’t see him.

              “Nooo you don’t understand Jon! I’m gay!” Ohm cried out, trying to make a point through his fuzzy mind. But it seemed Delirious wasn’t having it.

              “Uhhh Ohm, we know that already? You told us that like…like last year? And we fully support you and that doesn’t fucking mean, at all, that you can’t have a—”

              “No, no listen. You don’t understand. Jon, I’m gay gay. Like…like I’m gay for someone. But I don’t think he’s gay gay for me? Delirious, Cartoonz doesn’t feel the same way, huh?” he felt the ache in his heart again, letting a few tears slide down his cheeks.

              “Car-cartoonz?” Delirious sputtered. Ohm gave a long sigh.

              “Yeah…Toonzy. He’s funny and genuine and attractive and just gets me, ya know? I just wanna kiss him all the time and cuddle him and…and go on dates with him and touch him and fu—”

              “Jesus Christ.” Delirious breath. “You can’t just…just…hold on. Can you hold on? Hold on a sec, Ohm.” Then Delirious was gone. There was a lot of shuffling and mumbling in the background that he couldn’t understand. But before he could figure out what was going on, Delirious was back.

              “Okay, can you say that again, Ohm?”

              “I wanna fuck Cartoonz!” He declared, hearing more shuffling along with a sharp gasp and ‘not like that!’ protests coming from Del. Maybe, that wasn’t the exact phrase he was looking for. “No, no wait…make love with Cartoonz. Yeah, that. I love Luke. But not like…I love you Delirious but I’m uhhh in love with Luke. For a long time now. He’s, he’s amazing~ And I love spending time with him. But he doesn’t love me…why would he love me…? His insecurities were starting to leak out. Because it’s true. Why would Luke ever like him in a way that was more than a friend?

              “For fucksakes why…look, Ohm, I have a good feeling that Luke loves you back. You’re a great guy, don’t be so down on yourself. He’ll be lucky to have you.”

              Ohm shifted his weight to the side, his voice quieter than before. “How do you know that?”

              “I just have a very, very strong feeling.”

              “But why would he—”

              “Ryan, just please trust me here, okay?” Delirious pleads. He jumps at the sudden name-drop. Jonathon never calls him by his real name. He also never sounded so conclusive before.

              “Okay Jon, I’ll try.” He yawns, finally starting to feel the night catch up with him. But he can’t sleep yet.

              “You should probably go to sleep, man.”

              “But Toonzy…I gotta call…” he yawns again.

              “Tomorrow dude. Better if you’re sober and n-not about to pass out.”

              “But…Yeah…true…I’m sleepy.” Ryan starts to close his eyes as he says those words. He tries to relax through the spinning in his head. It feels like a whole minute has passed of him breathing into the mic and he assumes Delirious already left the call.

              “Good night, Ohm…”

              He barely hears the quiet murmur at the end. Ohm’s interest piqued as it sounds kinda off. It was huskier. Deeper. Ohm almost forgot who he was talking to. But it wasn’t enough to break the tiredness that was closing in on him. Ohm’s body starts to slack, he vaguely feels the thump of his phone as it falls on the bed. His thoughts float in his head, drunk, but specifically drunk on Cartoonz. Memories of hefty laughs, long beards, and southern accents filled his mind before finally settling into sleep.

               The morning after sucked. Ohm groans, finally remembering this being a big reason why he didn’t drink much. This part is utter crap.

              “I hate myself. I fucking hate myself.” Ohm mumbles, covering his arm over his eyes. He forgot to pull his blinds so the sunlight he usually loved to greet was glaring at his mistakes. His head throbbed, noting that he was still in his dress shirt, suit jacket half-on but was pantless somehow. His mouth was dry and tasted like alcohol and regrets. Suddenly, he heard Tiny bark in the livingroom signifying that there was someone in the house. But before Ohm can process if he was getting robbed or not, his gut fails him and he rushes himself to the bathroom.

              “Ohm? You okay in there, bud?” Ohm hears through the knocking on his door and his loud heaving sounds. He recognizes the voice to be Cartoonz and is glad that he decided to give him that extra key.

              “Yeah, I’m just, shit—” another round rises up his throat. Ohm is gripping the toilet bowl for dear life as whatever contents start spilling through. He doesn’t notice Cartoonz next to him until he feels hands on his shoulder, massaging his back sympathetically.

              “Goddamn Ohm, you got absolutely fucked up. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

              “Well, nothing is in me now…” Ohm says weakly. Grabbing a towel to wipe off the excess residue off his mouth. He leans on his bathtub, relieved that he can finally breathe. Cartoonz hands him a water bottle which he gladly used to gargle his mouth with before taking two big gulps.

              “So, what brings you here, Toonzy?” Ohm asks. Though he’s not complaining that he did show up, Ohm knows Luke isn’t the type of guy to come in unannounced.

              “Jonathon texted me this morning. Said your dumb hungover ass needed some assistance, probably. Just think of me as your Alcohol Poisoning Rescue Squad.” He patted the bag he was carrying to capitalize his status. That was probably how he got the water so fast.

              “Now come here, child, and lets get you all cleaned up!” Cartoonz hollered, helping him get up and escorting him to the sink.

              Ohm just rolled his eyes. “We’re practically the same age, Cartoonz.” But Cartoonz ignored him, opting to the kitchen to probably make food. Ohm looked at himself in the mirror, hissing at his reflection. He felt like shit and looked like shit. That was great. He got to work, brushing his teeth and taking a quick shower to scrub off the grime of last night. Once he was washed and changed into fresh clothes, he felt a lot better than before.

              “Pedialyte?” Ohm questioned as he entered the diningroom to find a plate of scrambled eggs waiting for him as well as some pills, a glass of water, and a bottle of Pedialyte.

              “Yeah. Del’s recommendation. I don’t drink much so I can’t say but Del swore by that stuff when he did. Oh, here’s your coffee too, by the way.” Cartoonz places a hot mug beside him, the familiar smell wafting through the air. “Made it how you like it too: disgustingly sweet and undrinkable.” He wrinkles his nose at the thought.

              “No, you’re just a barbarian and drink it straight black. What sane person drinks it straight black?” Ohm retorts, blowing at his drink to cool it down. He will fight for his sweet-tasting coffee to the death.

              “Agree to disagree.” Cartoonz huffs, settling in the chair next to him with his own plate and cup. They ate their food in comfortable silence. Cartoonz hummed and scrolled through his phone while Ohm picked at his eggs. He tried to recall what he did last night, memories of bouquets and shots filled his mind. Then he got home (somehow) and wobbled to his bed. He texted people, he thinks, and he hopes to god that it was nothing too embarrassing. And then he remembers he was talking to someone…didn’t he call Delirious?

              Ohm dropped his fork in realization. He did. He admitted his crush to Delirious. And Delirious sent Cartoonz over here. What in the heck…

              “You okay there, Ohm?” Cartoonz asked. Ohm didn’t realize he was staring at him. He picked up his fork and cleared his throat.

              “Yeah, I’m fine Toonzy. Just thinking through this headache, no worries.” Despite the reassurance, Cartoonz arches his eyebrow.

              “Are you sure…? I mean, there’s just something that’s been bugging me and I really should ask.” Cartoonz sighs, setting his phone down on the table. “Ryan, you don’t usually drink, especially get wasted, is there something wrong? And don’t tell me that ‘it was a wedding’ shit. ‘Cause we’ve been to plenty of parties before and you never had more than a bottle or two. You even told me it just wasn’t your scene. You can tell me if there’s something wrong.”

              Ohm couldn’t help his stomach fluttering a bit at Cartoonz’s concern. Any delicate attention Luke gave him made it flutter and this time, despite being hungover, made no difference. Of course, Luke was the one to spot the slight intention of his actions. That his night of binge drinking wasn’t just from the atmosphere of celebration. Luke knew him well, Luke could read him. Another reason why he was so in love with the damn guy.

              Ohm groaned, wondering how he was gonna tell the truth but not at the same time. He wasn’t gonna lie but he was also not gonna confess. Sober him was still unsure about Delirious’ observation last night. He wanted to trust him but he needed time to think about it, digest it, and besides, he didn’t feel well enough to try anyways.

              “No? Yes? I-I don’t know Cartoonz. I guess, I just got carried away and lost it.” Ohm sighs, pushing his hair back and leaning back on his chair. “The first drink was out of courtesy. The second drink was with peers. The third drink was because of the YouTube algorithm and the rest after that was…” Ohm closed his eyes, thinking about the pain in his chest at the wedding, a pain that was too familiar in his life. “…was my stupidness, honestly. I was being stupid. I love my sister, Toonz, don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for her and her husband. I cried at the ceremony. But…but she’s my younger sister, Toonz. By a good chunk too and, I don’t know. I couldn’t help but feel so jealous and, and lonely and—” wanting you. Ohm shook his head, feeling a wave of nausea when doing so, pushing it down along with his heartbroken feelings. It was hard being so in love when he knew he wasn’t suppose to be. He wanted what his sister had at that moment, to love who his heart desired freely. But he was too much of a coward and so drank way more than he should’ve to forget the fact.

              “I have a good feeling that Luke loves you back.” Delirious’ voice echoes in his mind. But that’s impossible.

              Suddenly, Ohm’s hands are being grabbed and placed on Luke’s lap. His eyes are sad looking at Ohm’s but they weren’t filled with pity like Ohm expected. They were filled with something soft that he couldn’t pin point.

              “I’m so sorry, Ohm. I wish you didn’t feel that way. But I get it. I fucking get that feeling. You have no idea. And it sucks. I even thought I was just going to live with the feeling, get use to it. Just for the sake of it.” Cartoonz’s thumb started rubbing the side of his hand, obviously nervous about the next thing he was about to say. He brought their hands closer so they laid on the base of Cartoonz’s chest. Ohm was a little surprised by the gesture. He could feel the man’s rapid pulse beating under his palms. “But that changed, I think. I hope it changed. I feel like I have a chance now when a little drunk bunny called last night…” Cartoonz smirked at Ohm’s confused look while he ransacked his memories. He didn’t call him and just didn’t remember, did he?

              “What do you mean by…”

              “…while I was in a certain idiot’s livingroom…”

              “No. He didn’t. He—”

              “…and was put on speaker phone…”

              “I’m gonna fucking kill him.” Ohm proposed, feeling the vibration of Cartoonz’s chuckle. His face was hot from embarrassment and shame. But soon was hot from something else.

              “I love you too, Ryan. So fucking much it’s ridiculous. I thought I was saving our friendship by not telling you. I didn’t think we could be more than that and, god, I’m really hoping that what you said last night wasn’t just some drunken dare. Because I don’t think I can handle it if it was just some joke.”

              Ohm shakes his head and pulls his hands back along with Luke’s. He presses Luke’s knuckles against his lips, letting it linger before speaking.

              “I meant every word of it. There’s no joke. I’ll even say it again sober: I’m in love with you Luke for who knows how long and…I want the chance to show you that.”

              Ohm couldn’t believe this was happening. It was surreal how fast it happened, how random it was. He couldn’t breathe but at the same time his lungs never felt so free. He wrapped himself around Luke’s neck, leaning in closer to kiss the lips he’s only dreamt about, but when said man pushes him away with a grin on his face, Ohm couldn’t help but question what was going on.

              “Look, Ohm, I love you and all and god do I want you, but I just watched you throw up buckets of puke a second ago. I am NOT kissing you right now.”

              “But, but I brushed and rinsed Toonzy! Twice!” Ohm pouted, crossing his arms at the rejection.

              “Nope, still disgusting. Not happening.” He patted Ohm’s head.

              “That’s rude, Toonzy. That was like the perfect fanfic moment, I’ll have you know.” Cartoonz just shrugged.

              “What about take me on a date and then we’ll see about the kissing.”

              “Oh. There’ll definitely be kissing.” Ohm said, lowering his voice so it was smooth as velvet. Ohm hummed in success when he caught Cartoonz biting his lip.

              “Okay, Ohm, can you stop being a creep and eat your goddamn eggs.” Ohm reached out, however, not wanting the moment to end just yet.

              “Wait, what time are you free? To take you out, I mean.”

              “Does tomorrow sound fine? I have to do some recording with Del in the morning but I can catch dinner.” Ohm scanned his schedule in his head, happy he was due to record in the afternoon.

              “That’s perfect.”

              “You’re perfect.” Cartoonz said, giving a quick peck on his forehead. Ohm sighed into the kiss, leaning his head on his shoulder to try to engulf himself in Cartooonz’s embrace. He wanted as much of him as he can get. He needed to catch up somehow.

              “You know, I can’t be mad at Delirious if this is the result. I know his intentions were good and he knew we just needed a catalyst but I still want to kinda punch him in the face, ya know? Maybe just the shoulder. But only just a tiny little bit.”

              “Oh, I’m way ahead of you. No one breaks your trust on my watch.” Cartoonz takes out his phone to show him a picture of a sleeping Delirious. In it, Delirious seems to be cuddling an owl-shaped Teddy Bear that Ohm recognizes as the birthday gift Vanoss gave to him a couple years back. Ohm notices that the picture was from a message thread between Cartoonz and Vanoss himself with a caption that said: He sleeps like this every night. Take this as you will.

              Ohm cracks up, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s amazing but savage. They’re both going to have a heart attack. You’re unbelievable.”

              “But you love me.” Cartoonz says, lacing their fingers together.

              “Yes, I do. And you love me?”

              “Yes, I absolutely do.”

[a-splash-of-stucky]

Priorities (6) - Epilogue

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky has a surprise for you.

Warnings: Floooooof. So much floof my heart is filled with it.

WC: 1.3k

Notes: The finale is here! Thank you so much to everyone who’s followed along with this series, your comments have made me giggle and laugh and snort — I love y’all so much. Enjoy this last part, fam.

Written for @buckyofthemyscira’s 5k Disney Writing Challenge.

Series Masterlist | My Masterlist | Tags are open, add yourself here

It’s been a good day.

You’ve put up a new blogpost, you’ve brainstormed some designs for your spring sticker collection, and to top it all off, you’ve just had a productive meeting with Peter, your web-designer extraordinaire. He’s come up with some amazing ideas to revamp the Sunshine’s Creations site, and you’re excited to implement all the changes that he’s suggested.

Thus, it’s no wonder that you have a huge smile on your face as you toe off your shoes and hang up your coat. The apartment is filled with the warm, comforting smell of a roast dinner, and there’s some mellow, chilled-out music playing over the speakers.

You head into the kitchen to find Bucky cheerfully humming to the music as he pulls a roasting dish out of the oven. He’s wearing a white undershirt and a pair of grey sweatpants that are riding dangerously low on his hips. There’s a strip of exposed skin between his undershirt and pants, and it’s an incredibly distracting sight.  

“Hey honey!” Bucky calls over his shoulder, “Be with you in a sec.”

You lean against counter and watch as he sets sets the dish onto a heat-proof mat to cool down. Bucky pulls off his oven mitts, tosses them onto the countertop, then saunters over to you.

“Hey,” he says softly, lips quirking into a smile as he bends down and gives you a welcome-home peck on the lips.

“Hey yourself,” you murmur, snaking your arms around his waist to tug him closer, pulling him in for a proper kiss. He laughs, but doesn’t resist as you card your fingers through the short hairs at the nape of his neck and press your lips together.

“Smells great,” you tell him, when you finally break apart. “Need any help?”

Bucky shakes his head no. “Nah, I’m almost done — just gotta finish off the gravy. Why don’t you go and get changed?”

“‘Kay — I’ll be back in a bit.”

Eager to get back to Bucky as soon as possible, you dash into the bedroom to change out of your day clothes into something comfier; a pair of black leggings and one of  Bucky’s old t-shirts. You also wipe off your makeup and clip your hair out of your face.

Once you’ve finished getting un-ready, you take your phone out of your purse, turn if off, then put it and your laptop away in your home office.

There’ll be no devices to distract you, tonight.

This is a new thing that you and Bucky have been trying to do every week; putting away all your devices and disconnecting completely from the outside world for a few hours. You’ve missed the little pleasures that come with simply enjoying each other’s company, so this is a great way to strengthen your bond as a couple. Blackout Nights, as Bucky’s taken to calling them, are just one of the many things that both of you are doing to patch up your relationship.

When you shuffle back into the kitchen, you find that Bucky has plated up two enormous servings of food, and drenched everything in a glossy, dark-brown gravy. Your stomach rumbles in anticipation.

“It looks amazing,” you tell him, as you come up to him from behind and wrap your arms around his waist. You drop a kiss between his shoulder blades, then turn to press your cheek to his back. Bucky laughs softly, one hand coming to rest on top of your folded ones.

“Thanks, doll — you hungry?” he asks.

“Fuckin’ starving.”

He barks out a laugh. “Okay, then — grab a plate and head to the couch. I’ve already put your drink on the coffee table.”

You hum appreciatively, giving Bucky one more squeeze before letting him go. “You’re the best.”

After grabbing some cutlery, your carry your plate over to the living room and curl up in your favourite spot on the couch. Bucky joins you soon after, squeezing himself into the gap between your body and the arm rest; he’s close enough that your thighs are pressed firmly together.

“Not a bad way to spend a Friday evening, huh?” he asks.

“Not at all,” you agree, as you pierce a carrot with your fork.

What’s not to love? You’re about to have a quiet evening at home, with Bucky’s complete and undivided attention on you — it’s everything you’d wanted during those turbulent times in your relationship and more.

“Hey,” Bucky says suddenly, knocking elbows with you.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to say I love you.”

“Sap,” you mutter, even as you lean over to kiss him silly.

—

The dirty plates have been dumped into a sink and a fluffy blanket has been draped over your entangled legs. Your head is pillowed on Bucky’s chest and your ass is precariously close to his groin — perhaps in a few minutes time, that situation could lead to something steamier.

For now, Bucky takes comfort in your weight on top of him, and breathes in the sweet fragrance of your shampoo. His fingers are intertwined with yours, resting on your belly; life could not be more perfect.

“We should go on a holiday,” you murmur drowsily, pulling Bucky out of his thoughts. “We haven’t gone somewhere nice for a while.”

Bucky hums in agreement. “Funny you should say that now — I’ve just put in a request to take ten days of leave at the end of November.”

“Really?” you ask, intrigued.

“Yeah, just waiting for HR to process it. Let’s go to Puerto Rico — or anywhere with a beach, really. Somewhere warm, with shitty cell reception.”

You bark out a laugh as you turn around to face him, planting one hand in the centre of his chest to steady yourself. You’ve got a glimmer of excitement in your eyes and a wide grin on your face.

“Shitty cell reception so that no one can call you about work?” you guess.

Bucky grins as he leans forward to gently bump his nose against yours. “Exactly.”

Your face crinkles into a smile, one that reaches all the way to your eyes. “M’kay. I’d like that.”

He bites his lip as he smoothes your hair away from your face, buying some time before he tells you the news that he’s been dying to say ever since you stepped through the front door.

“What is it?” you ask, brows furrowing in concern, “You look like you’re about to confess a murder, or something.”

He huffs a laugh and shakes his head, marvelling at how you can read him so easily.

“I...had a chat with Tony, today,” he say slowly, “About that promotion I’ve been going on about.”

Your eyebrows twitch with interest, but besides that, you give no other reaction.

“Basically, he gave me his final offer — and the pay would’ve been great, don’t get me wrong, but I turned it down.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. Before you can open your mouth to speak, Bucky rushes to continue.

“I turned down the extra money, but I bargained for something else — and I think you’ll like this.”

“What did you ask for?” you ask, your eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Extra leave — paid leave,” Bucky replies. “We had a bit of back and forth, but eventually, Stark agreed to 15 days of paid leave, in addition to what I already have.”

“You’re serious?” you ask excitedly.

Bucky nods, as a wide grin bursts across his face. “Completely serious, honey. Same pay, same workload—”

“Same team! God, you’ll still have to put up with Sam—”

“Eh, he’s not actually that bad,” Bucky says. “Same everything, except I’m now contractually obligated to take more days off to spend with you.”

Your smile broadens as you sling your arms around his neck, bringing your faces just a hair’s breadth apart. “Best. News. Ever,” you declare, before planting a firm kiss to his lips.

A small laugh rumbles out of Bucky’s chest as he tightens his arms around you, holding you close.

He let you go once before, and it was the biggest heartbreak he’d ever been forced to experience.

He’s not planning on letting you go again anytime soon. You’re his priority now.