#together. out on the porch of an old beat up house older than both of us c combined

[oldtreeinanalley]

come with me. lets go to russian karaoke bars by the beach and sing bad 80s pop music

[hyugaruma]

House Party (Nakagoshi x Reader)

♡

re: you have a bit of a crush on your friend…

me and my headcanon that nakaoka would have an average businessman older brother

♡

The reverberations of the deep bass shuttered the old, wooden infrastructure of the house, frames creaking as if in protest. The music was too loud to decipher what song was playing; you had to wonder if the neighbors wouldn’t have something to say about it. When Nakaoka went around inviting a bunch of Oya High’s first- and second-years to a party over the weekend, you hadn’t expected to find yourself crammed shoulder-to-shoulder in a traditional Japanese minka house of all places.

“It’s my older brother’s,” Nakaoka explained when you’d first arrived. “He’s a businessman.”

Now, you found yourself hovering at the edge of the room, trying your best to slink as far into the shadows and away from the drunk, dancing crowds as possible. When Nakaoka had mentioned the party to you, you were expecting something small, likely consisting of Nakaoka and Nakagoshi’s closest Oya goons. But this far exceeded your expectations. There was a fair number of women there too, which came as a surprise to you because it seemed that the brawlers of Oya High were far more interested in fighting than courting. Nakagoshi, of course, had been the one to talk you into going to Nakaoka’s “little” party. Otherwise, you would have been perfectly content spending your Saturday night catching up on your shows and snacking on junk food in the comfort of your home. But no, “It’ll be fun,” Nakagoshi had sworn to you. And now, said male was nowhere to be found, and you were left alone hiding at the fray of the party. You could’ve strangled him.

In desperate need for some personal space, you squeezed your way through the crowd of partygoers, somehow managing to navigate yourself out onto the veranda. The cool night air was a welcome reprieve from the heat of the bodies inside the home. However, it seemed a plethora of other people had had the same idea as you; the backyard was nearly just as noisy as inside. A group of guys took turns batting a baseball into the wooden fence surrounding the garden, guffawing loudly at every thunk it made. Scads of people milled about on the porch, swaying to the beat of the music echoing from beyond the walls. Several of them toked on cigarettes, plumes of smoke suffocating the air. Just on the lawn was a table where another group was playing an alcohol party game that seemingly had no discernible rules from which you could tell. Somebody bumped your shoulder as they squeezed past you to join the others on the lawn. You huffed, and contemplated just heading home to your pajamas and bed.

Just as the thought tempted you, you felt an arm snake its way over your shoulders. You turned to see that damned smiling face, if only it wasn’t so charming. Nakagoshi.

“Come out here for the fresh air?” He asked.

You squinted your eyes at him. You had half the mind of telling him off for making you think this was some sort of “small” get-together, but you couldn’t. You never could, not with that smile he’d send your way. “Something like that,” you replied, eyes scanning over the people spread out over the backyard. “It’s not really much better, though.”

Another drunken body knocked into yours as they ambled down the veranda. As you tried to glare after the guy who had just bumped you, your eyes caught a couple making out, dimly illuminated by the porch lights. Your eyes widened, and you averted them.

Nakagoshi turned to look, catching sight of what you had noticed. He chuckled at your fluster, giving you a little shake with his hand on your shoulder. You tried to nudge him off, but he didn’t budge. “Come on,” he said. “I think the front is a little quieter.”

You and Nakagoshi weaved your way through the throngs of people inside, making it back outside to the front porch this time. You both took a seat on the porch ledge. You pulled your knees to your chest to insulate against the cool, breezy evening air. Nakagoshi let his legs dangle off the edge, leaning back with one hand supporting him from behind. Spring crickets just barely made themselves heard over the sound of the party music, like they decided to play along. You let out a deep breath, finally able to relax amidst the frenzy of the night.

Nakagoshi eyed you from the corner of his eye. “I really did think it’d be something small.” He tugged awkwardly at the headband secured around his head. You could tell by his tone that he felt bad. You and Nakagoshi were close; he knew you well enough to know that this wasn’t your typical scene. Though, knowing that, you weren’t quite sure why he decided to convince you to attend the party in the first place.

You shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. It’s not so bad. Just a bit overwhelming.”

“Think he just got a bit overexcited knowing he had his brother’s place to himself for the whole weekend.” Nakagoshi leaned his shoulder against the support beam he sat next to, turning his body slightly to face you.

You gave a small smile. “Sounds like him.” A lightning bug floated lazily just past your nose, and you watched it as it flickered off into the distance. The music playing from inside abruptly changed to the next song, and you wondered if somebody complained about what was playing.

Nakagoshi stretched his legs out in front of him, looking around to scout out any people hanging around the front porch. The few that had been milling about when you two first walked out had seemingly headed back inside to regroup with the party. It was just the two of you now. Nakagoshi cleared his throat, trying to be casual but clearly failing with the way you cocked an eyebrow at him.

“What?” You asked.

“Nothing,” he laughed, giving a one-shoulder shrug. “Just clearing my throat.”

“You can go back inside to the party,” you offered. You felt bad that you pulled him away from his fun Saturday night. Nakagoshi’s friends were probably looking for him right about now. “I really don’t mind. I came, I saw you. I’ll probably head home soon.”

His response came instantly. “I’ll walk you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you assured him. “I’m not trying to ruin your fun. I don’t want to be a killjoy.”

Nakagoshi pulled a knee up and rested his arm on it. He had a serious look on his face as he studied you. You could feel your cheeks growing hot with the way he looked so intensely at you. You wondered if it was obvious how he made you feel. It felt obvious, at least, all the little internal and external reactions you had at anything he said or did. Maybe he did notice, and he just didn’t feel the same. That thought made your stomach twist. It wasn’t like you wanted to risk your friendship with him by outing your feelings.

“You’re not a killjoy,” he finally responded after what seemed like some consideration. “I asked you to come because I wanted to spend time with you.”

You felt your heart jump at his words. You stuffed those thoughts and feelings back down. “I just don’t think I’m as fun as your other friends.”

Nakagoshi laughed. You couldn’t help but to admire the way his face crinkled when he laughed, that boyish attraction that seemed to alight his features. It felt magnetic, and you couldn’t help the way you leaned forward ever so slightly towards him. It was like you needed to be closer to him. You swallowed hard. Again, Nakagoshi didn’t seem to notice the effect he had on you. Maybe it was better that way.

“You’re joking?” He pushed his hand through his messy hair, just for it to flop back down over his headband again. “They’re not half as fun to be around than you are.”

“You’re joking,” your brows knitted together disbelievingly at his words. “They like to go out and fight and drink and make music and do things. I like to… stay at home. I’m boring.”

Nakagoshi snorted and rolled his eyes. This time it was his turn to lean in towards you. You felt nervousness creeping up your spine. Your body almost leaned back in panicked response, but you held steady, soaking in any amount of closeness you could get to him. God, if only he knew how crazy he drove you. Damn him. “I don’t think you have any idea…” he said, a challenging smirk hinting at his lips. His eyes looked dark, even in the glow of the moonlight. Your eyes flickered to his lips for all but half a second. All you could think about was kissing him. He plopped a heavy hand on top of your head. “Not any idea about yourself, do you?”

You were taken aback. “Huh? What does that mean?”

“I mean,” he emphasized, pulling his hand back and giving you a grin worth damning. “You’re way too hard on yourself. You think I try so hard to hang out with you all the time, because, what? Because you’re boring?” Nakagoshi shook his head. “I asked you to come because I wanted to see you. Because I like hanging out with you—“

Before he could even finish his sentence, your lips were on his. It happened so fast it took you a second to realize it had happened. And it was over quicker than it started as you pulled yourself away. Nakagoshi’s eyed widened, but yours were wider.

“Oh shit,” you muttered. You could feel your cheeks were on fire. You had really, truly fucked it now. “I’m so sorry,” you started, feeling the words tumbling abashedly from your lips. “I didn’t mean to do that and I am so, so sorry. I wasn’t even thinking and then the stuff you were saying and before I even knew it I just kissed you and, oh fuck, I’m really, really—“

Nakagoshi quickly cut you off by grabbing your face gently between his hands and pulling you back again, this time him initiating the way your lips oh-so-perfectly melded together. You felt your heart swell with all the emotions you had tried so hard to hold back. He was kissing you, Nakagoshi was kissing you. If it was a dream you would have been satisfied with never waking up. But, it wasn’t. And you realized that you should probably kiss him back. Your hands snaked up to grip his black t-shirt like it was the only thing that could tether you to this reality. You tilted your head to deepen the kiss, leaning tenderly into the hand which cupped your cheek. His lips were soft, chapped, sweet, everything you had imagined they’d be. You could’ve gotten drunk through kissing him alone.

Your noses faintly grazed each other as you both pulled back. The distance in which you held was small, but felt monumental in comparison to what you had just shared. His eyes were lidded and glossy, like he could’ve kissed you again… And he did kiss you again. Once. Twice. Three more times, like he, too, couldn’t reach his fill of you. You could feel your heart pound with each kiss, and you briefly wondered if it was possible to keel over from too much bliss.

He finally pulled back, really pulled back this time, much to your dismay. Then, he was sending that damn smile your way again. You smacked him lightly on the chest.

“What was that for?” He laughed.

“You—,” you didn’t even know what to say. “You know why!”

“You kissed me first,” he jokingly defended. “Gotta admit, kind of surprised me.”

You let out a huff of a breath, crossing your arms over your chest in mock indignation. Not that you could have been mad about anything in that moment. You felt like you were soaring above the clouds. But it’s not like you were going to let that get to his head. “Surprised myself.”

“I liked it though.”

“Shut up…”

Without warning, Nakagoshi slung a lazy arm over your shoulders and pulled you against his side. “We should do that again sometime. Like next weekend? What do you say, how ‘bout a ‘boring’ weekend next week? Your place?”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the way you leaned into his side. A small smile ticked at your lips. “Sounds like my kind of weekend.”

[cakeheavenly999]

Homegirl

yuji itadori x fem!reader wc: 1693 tags: weed sex/yuji calls you baby not beta read!

yuji is the type of guy who grows feelings for his girl best friend. i wanna kiss him so bad...

your toes curled in your fluffy socks as you sat beside yuji on his living room couch. well, his older brothers living room couch. you had been so busy with college you didnt have time for your best friend; until now. it was finally spring break, and you were finally back in your hometown. of course you were staying with your parents for the week since they wanted to see you, but they werent the only people you came back for.

when you told yuji you were back, he blew up your phone with excited texts and begged to facetime you. of course you agreed. you talked with him all night and woke up laughing together when you realized you fell asleep on the phone with one another. 

no one was closer to you than your homeboy yuji itadori. 

when you were free that evening, he invited you over to smoke. of course you said yes. you told your parents you were going to see yuji and jumped on your old bike, riding down to his place with a bag of weed in your back pocket, and a lighter in the front of your denim shorts. yuji lived in the big house two blocks ahead of yours. it was impossible to miss and the two of you always loved doing everything together. its funny how things worked out that way. 

you jumped off your bike, throwing it in his front yard as you ran up to his front door. he beat you to it. with a big shimmering smile, he wrapped you up in a tight hug and pulled you into his house. the sun was starting to set, and the smoke session was about to begin.

choso was nice enough to let you and yuji smoke in the house instead of sending you to the porch. as long as you didnt burn anything down. “its been so long since we smoked together, im sorry i only have cruddy weed.” you apologized while eyeing your crumbs of cheap weed nobara had slid you. 

an exchange for you being so kind as to drop her off at a sneaky link. the room was lit via the tv and a small table lamp on the side of you, making your contribution even more pathetic. “you know i would never ask you to bring weed. and this is all my brothers anyway.” he snickered as he emptied the shredded tobacco from the cigar wrap into a little, black grocery bag. “sukunas? he wont be mad?” you asked with worry as yuji rolled his eyes. “he stole my favorite red nike dunks. so im stealing some of his weed.” he frowned as he got into the much larger bag of weed to break up a few nugs. 

“be the bigger person.” you joked and gently nudged his thigh with your foot before your eyes returned to the tv. the two of you had put on an anime to watch, but neither of you were actually paying attention to it. just some background noise for the smoke sesh. with the blunt now rolled (and pearled) yuji scrambled for a lighter among the snacks and bottles of water. “here,” you pulled one out of the front pocket of your jean shorts. “dont lose it.” you smiled at him as he took your lighter. your fingers brushed his but you thought nothing of it.

you were yujis homegirl. and of course he was your homeboy. people always assumed you were dating, but that wasnt the case. you did have some unsavory thoughts about yuji from time to time, but he was your friend before he was an object of your desire. the blunt was passed to you and the ceramic ashtray was moved to the center for the both of you to share. 

the weed was superb. sukuna really was the greatest plug. making yuji the greatest plug via association. your eyes were starting to feel heavy as you leaned against yuji with the brown blunt becoming shorter and shorter. “should we roll another? use the weed i brought.” you offered him the blunt and he hummed in deep thought. you could see the shine of his thin gold chain dangling around his neck from the tvs glow. it pulled you in closer until yuji was holding the blunt, looking down at your hand resting on his thigh. 

“you okay?” yuji asked lazily as his body sank back against the velvet couch. you nodded, your hand still as you gave his muscled leg a small squeeze. his breath hitched softly as you moved in even closer. “whatre you doin?” he mumbled as the blunt hung from his lips. his eyes on you. “nothin.” you whispered as you eyed his crotch through his black basketball shorts. you were sitting on your knees now, your heart pounding in your chest until yuji grabbed you by the shoulder and pushed you away. his cheeks were red and he was frowning.

“you dont have to do that.” yuji didnt sound angry with you. just anxious. “i want to though…” you trailed off with a weak frown, watching yuji put the blunt in the ashtray. “lets do somethin for you too.” the offer was quiet, the tv casting you both in a colorful glow as your pink haired best friend inched closer on the couch.

your lips met. soft and welcoming. you knew in that moment that this was something you both wanted. your tongues met with each messy kiss, drool coating your chin as yuji made his way on top of you. your back was digging into the arm of the couch now. your heart racing as your arms wrapped around him with a whine leaving your lips as he pulled away and moved lower.  

“wheres choso?” you panted as yuji sucked and kissed along your jugular, lightly and cautiously. “sleep upstairs.” you pulled at the back of his shirt, stifling another whine. “sukuna?” you worried about him the most. “his babymama house.”yuji mumbled against your skin as his warm hands slipped under your shirt, pulling at the front clasp of your bra as he sucked and licked at your throat.

you wanted him to leave marks. more soft sounds passed your lips as yuji pulled away and bunched your shirt over your chest. your nipples hardened once they were exposed to the cool air of the room. he looked down at you, contemplating his next move as you pulled your hands away and tugged at his shirt. he took your silent request and pulled the article of clothing over his head and haphazardly dropped it to the floor. his chest was exposed, and he dove in for another round of kisses as his large palms massaged your breasts. you were like dough in his hands. moldable and pliable for him to enjoy. it was like one of many fantasies you silently wished would come true.

his hands moved to your jean shorts, pulling at the button and zipper as he kept your moaning lips distracted with his. the denim was being yanked down your hips with your panties bunched in the fabric. they dangled off of your ankle as his hands moved between your thighs. his thumb rubbed at your clit. his fingers pumped in and out of you carefully crooking upwards. swallowing your yelps and cries as you trembled beneath him with nothing short of delight. when the sound of shuffling clothing returned you felt the pooling heat in your stomach leave a dull burn as his fingers pulled away. 

you needed yuji inside of you. his cock rested against the meaty petals of your pussy, the tip of his cock meekly greeted your clit with a few light, affectionate rubs. “can i?” he whispered, his voice airy. needy. just as needy as you. you gave him a lazy nod for a response, your body tensing when his strong arms lifted your hips into his lap, leaving you bent as he sank his thick, throbbing cock into your soaked cunt. 

his hips rocked with yours, his gold chain swinging before your eyes. the anime was drowned out by wet smacks of skin and soft moans. each drag of his cock left you light headed. you clenched tighter around him, mumbling soft sobs and ‘oh fucks’ with each piston. the mushroomy tip of his cock nudged perfectly against that spongy wall inside you. “your body was made for my cock. feel it baby?” he cooed, leaning in to meet your lips with his own. his rhythm steady and quick as he fucked you against the leather couch, letting you drag your nails against the bare skin of his back. it felt so good. better than you could have imagined. maybe it was the weed. maybe it was the feelings you held onto. maybe it was in yujis dna to have excellent dick. whatever the answer was, it was leading you to an orgasm; fast. 

your toes curled in your fuzzy socks, your breathing quickened as yujis thrusts became sloppy and rough. a thin trail of spit connected the two of you as he pulled away, pushing your thighs apart to get even deeper inside of you. “s-so deep yuji- mm’cummin…” you whimpered pathetically as your pussy fluttered around him. sucking him deeper and deeper as he nudged against your cervix. the sudden feeling left the coil in your stomach winding impossibly tight as yuji nodded. “you can come. cum with me? cum with me please? please baby?” he huffed and panted as his cock throbbed inside of you.

you nodded, your body quaking as your orgasm hit you like a punch. your body writhed as yuji hunched over you with a deep growl.

his cock pulsed, the feeling of a gooey warmth left your thighs trembling. the throbbing sensation intensified as your body grew sensitive from overstimulation. you could feel the pearl colored cum starting to leak out of you along with your own juices. but thats not what you were worried about.

it was the post nut clarity telling you that you just fucked your homeboy on his older brothers couch. 

[clumsiestgiantess]

Bringing back this fantastic g/t dream I had forever ago because I’m thinking about Inventor and Apprentice again…

(I had one last night but it wasn’t good enough to beat this one, and unless I get a lucid g/t dream it will probably stay my fave)

A g/t dream that happened suspiciously soon after seeing the Antman Quantumainia movie:

The dream started out with two lovers, a guy and girl, both scientists and inventors.  Though none of their insane inventions actually worked/were given funding, they gathered enough money to buy a countryside cottage house far away from their problems and start a new life.  They were married and worked on funky lil projects together.  Their inventions progressively kept getting crazier until one day they cracked the code for inter-molecular travel.  (This could cure any number of viral diseases by going in and fighting them head on, and even genetic ones by potentially re-organizing cell reproduction to skip over harmful strands of DNA)

They celebrate their victory and the husband suddenly starts crying.  His partner asks what’s wrong and he says ‘nothing!  I- I’m glad we figured this out in time!’  Apparently he has cancer and isn’t going to be around nearly as long as he thought.  However, before they test the machine to try and save him, a Kang-the-Conqueror-type villain appears out of the new machine and tries to take over.  The husband and him duke it out while the wife desperately tries to fix the machine to send him back. 

Husband manages to cut the villain’s suit (which he needs to breathe in such a new world, like a space suit) and the villain dies.  Shortly afterwards Husband falls to the ground having been given a fatal injury in the fight.  There isn’t a hospital for miles around, and even then it would be too late.  Her husband dies in her arms.

(timeskip)

A few years later, a new person moves to town.  She’s a young inventor wannabe herself and heard rumors of the secluded widow that was once a brilliant mind.  She finds her tinkering with stupid machines (like the unserious ones from the funnier mad scientists in Honey I Shrunk the Kids, Back to the Future, Epic, etc), and gets barred from entering by some crazy device. 

As an aspiring inventor, she reverse-engineers the device that’s stopping her from getting inside and tries to talk with the woman.  At first she keeps giving no answers and telling her to leave, but the newcomer is persistent and keeps coming back to help. Eventually the two come to some friendship.  The younger one becomes her apprentice, but also teaches her a few things herself being only a few years younger than the older inventor.

One day Apprentice finds the old inter-molecular travel machine and (being science-y and studying it for a moment) realizes what it’s for.  She excitedly asks if it works — if it’s possible — but gets immediately shut down and the machine is yanked from her hands and hidden away again.  Inventor tells her it’s not safe and she should never touch it again.  Of course, where would our story be if she listened to that?

Apprentice secretly takes the machine home and works on it herself, getting it to run after working on it for some time.  In her spare time (and possibly by stealing parts from Inventor) she builds a small spaceship-looking vessel that can take her down where the machine goes.  She boots up the thing in her front yard (the ship is too big to be in the house and the backyard is too wooded) and goes on her own. Wow! So many cool things! She’s having an awesome time and doesn’t understand why Inventor was so scared of it.

(we zoom back out to the normal front yard)

Apprentice put her small dog behind a locked dog door to keep him from messing around in the yard while she does her thing.  Unfortunately, the mailman comes up to the porch to deliver a package, stepping past the machine with nothing but a confused look. The little dog goes nuts the moment the mailman steps onto the porch and bursts through the flimsy plastic to chase him.  He runs off the front porch and trips over the machine, damaging it before quickly speeding away.

The machine is rapidly dying and the ship can sense it, sending out an alarm.  Apprentice rushes back to the surface before the connection is cut, but doesn’t make it in time.  She’s stuck at about half a centimeter tall.  Some weird cells/microscopic creatures grow with her too and she sees them all spasm and die in front of her through the ship’s windshield, simultaneously realizing that if she were to step outside, the air would be too large to breathe and she would die too.  Thankfully, both the suit and the craft have the ability to synthesize smaller air from the larger normal one.  However, she’s still trapped at a ridiculously small size.

A day later, Inventor comes looking for her because she didn’t show up to the house.  She becomes terrified as she looks into the front yard and sees the dead machine.  Had a similar fight occurred to the one she witnessed?  Was her friend lying dead somewhere, and the conquering person wandering around ready to take the world? 

Thankfully not; the now much smaller Apprentice made camp by the machine and Inventor spots it while assessing damages to it, figuring out what must’ve happened in her head.  Her friend isn’t in the camp (off scavenging to survive) and she fears that they died.  Inventor calls to Apprentice in a normal voice, which would be like shouting through a megaphone to their very tiny friend.  Apprentice rushes back to camp, waving her arms wildly, so so relieved that they were found before the inevitable happened.  Inventor tells her to get in the ship (which is reinforced to go through the entry and exit phases) and brings it carefully inside to a counter where she can see her better.

Thankfully, there’s an intercom on the ship for talking between the person out in the suit and the people on the ship (just like any space suit).  Inventor reprograms it and is able to hear their friend through the intercom.  Apprentice starts crying, apologizing to Inventor over and over again, saying that she was right, it was dangerous and she should’ve listened to her but now it’s too late.  Inventor gently calms her down. 

Though she’s angry that her friend used the machine after she warned her about it, she’s clearly learned her lesson, and worse.  Apprentice gets scared and sad (as anyone in her situation would be) telling Inventor that she’s ruined her life and will be stuck like that forever.  See, if you stop the process halfway through, whatever height you stop at becomes your new true biological height.  Trying to pull her back up with the machine won’t work because the systems wouldn’t see that as bringing her back to normal height. She was already brought back up.  That is her normal height now.

After the initial terrifying few days of organizing things and getting used to simply being around someone so vastly different in scale, Inventor comes up with an idea to create a machine that basically does the opposite of what the old one did.  It could be used to vastly grow someone instead of vastly shrink them. Apprentice dejectedly points out that she thought of that already, and did the math.  The process will multiply anything’s mass instead of dividing it, simple as that.  At a normal human size, that would multiply two big numbers together and make them absolutely massive.  At her size, the number would be much smaller.  At best she’d be about 15 centimeters tall — giant-sized for someone who’s half a centimeter, but not so much for someone who isn’t.

Inventor nods, having done the math themselves, and asks her ‘surely you’d rather be the length of my hand than the length of a pen tip, right?’  Apprentice agrees and they set to work.  Time goes by and their relationship grows ever closer as they learn to live together and trust eachother at such a dramatic difference in scale.

At last, the machine is done.  Apprentice steps in and grows to — as calculated — about 15 centimeters tall.  At last she doesn’t need the suit to talk and breathe; she doesn’t need to hide away from everything, even the sun itself, which was a lot hotter as half a centimeter tall; she doesn’t need to constantly be surrounded by food and heat in her little ship, lest she quickly freeze or starve to death.  Overjoyed, the two share an awkward little g/t embrace.  Both celebrating the fact that they can easily walk around and talk to the other without fear.

Time goes by and they become even closer through various little g/t scenarios — closer than either expected. After a while, they decide to destroy both machines and any records of them permanently.  They’re way too dangerous to be kept around. Apprentice can’t go through the growing one twice (cells would stretch to decay) and Inventor is too afraid to mess with the shrinking one to try and make her height more accommodating to Apprentice.

This duel destruction causes an unforeseen explosion that drags tiny Apprentice into it. Inventor rushes to the blast site, and is met with quite the shocking scene.

The blast actually negated all previous effects of both machines, and Apprentice is there covered in ash, back to normal size.  The two happily share a true embrace for the first time in years.  A bit of romance/drama stuff ensues as both struggle with their feelings for the other, which grew from friendship to love while they were living together.  Eventually, Apprentice tells Inventor that she loves her and Inventor gets even more conflicted because they love her too but.. her husband. 

Idk what happens in between (there was a very poorly timed timeskip, but because of the ending I know they end up together)

So I imagine Inventor learns to let go and move on.  I remember watching a Studio Ghibli looking montage of pretty hand-drawn backgrounds (since the thing is animated in my dream) of them doing things that lovers do.  There was a heartwarming ending scene where they add their first true invention they made together to the little memorial that Inventor and her husband made of their first one.

The end I think.  I woke up after that. Honestly my favorite g/t dream to date, despite not being in it myself.

[soapiemomorphine]

2012 Tmnt yakuza au cont, ‘,;)

The first is here,

Aftermath

So don and raph realized they kinda fucked up whoops

With Casey and Mona’s help they make a pizza and cake as an apology

“ Look Mikey” Raph twiltled with his thumbs in a nervous gesture as he shifts from foot to foot, “ I can’t take back what I said,”

“Or what we haven’t said,” Donnie’s face is red stained with tears and his eyes shine with unshed tears

“But we’re sorry,” Ralph’s voice breaks under the weight of guilt, “ and you deserve better than a couple of bums for brothers”

“And I’m so sorry that you didn’t see what you were going through because of my own dumb-dumb brain, of course you were going though the same grief and I am so sorry that I’m a terrible older brother-,” Donnie’s breathes come out shaken as he hiccups and sniffles.

But he’s stopped by Raph and Donnie nearly being knocked over with the speed Mikey had tackled them into a tight bear hug.

“ I know” Mikey sniffles into Ralph’s shoulder, “ I know”

And for the third time, Raph just breaks down.

He tries to silence what’s starts as small trails of tears down his cheeks but it’s hard with Donnie’s chocked wails and Mikey openly sobbing.

Raph joins them as they huddle each other, for the first time im since they were 15, they were just scared little kids with only themselves for comfort.

It’s impossible to say how long they stayed on the floor- a minute? 10 minutes? An hour? Because they hugged each other for as long as they could, until there were no tears left to cry, until there wasn’t enough water in their bodies, until what felt like eternity.

After that they all went to therapy!

Now they are quite literally closer than ever

They have almost all meals together, except for the dates Mona and Raph, and Donnie and Casey have

They were close before when they were younger; but that was in a sibling way; they way you are close with ur siblings when you are both young and forced to be in the same house; you fight each other and annoy each other but you still love each other at the end of the day

But now it’s different; they are close in the way veterans are close, they share the same trauma and the same grief and now they willingly spend the rest of their days together

And they were planning to spend it like retired veterans lol; no jobs rlly, cooking nice meals that take hours, finding new calming hobbies,(knitting, piano, baking, playing cards, all that old ppl shit lmao)going to the park, volunteering at animal shelters, feeding strays

Old domestic shit

But remember when raph in his grief was beating up yakuza members?

Yeah those bitches don’t forget easily

Whoopsie, the hamato fam is now on a gangs hitlist what else is new?

Some of the members who got their asses sorely kicked by raph wanna become his disciple

Raph doesn’t give two shits ab them

“BOSS!” “Get tf off my porch before I kick ur ass-again”

Mikey sees them, and is all, “Raph don’t be meeeaaannn!”

He feed the teenagers

When the yakuza tries to beat the hamato family’s asses

They failed severely

The punk teenagers in the area then start to look up to the hamato family

However, raph and Mona are unapproachable, Donnie is impossible to find, Casey doesn’t speak Japanese; so the one all the wannabe gangsters approach is Mikey lol

Gangsters aren’t the only ones who look up to the hamatos

Families that ever are in trouble with other yakuza are all like; “🥺 mikey-san, these men are beating up my sons and asking for money,”

And much like in The Godfather and in Goncharov they became know as a family that can do favors for good people

And the local punk teenagers began to treat Mikey like their boss

And that’s how the Hamato family-completely on accident- became a yakuza gang! 🥳

-first- -next(not yet posted)-

[mylittlesyn]

𝟙𝟠+ 𝕆𝕟𝕝𝕪, 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕠𝕣𝕤 𝔻ℕ𝕀

Premise: You reconnect with your childhood friend Itadori Yuji as both of you are home for the holidays. Only these aren't so happy holidays, and the hallmark movie is a little darker than may appear.

tw: yandere, drugging, noncon, violence (to people other than reader or Yuji)

This work is part of the Not so Happy Holidays collab.

Masterlist

You unlocked the door of your childhood home, walking into the foyer where the christmas tree sat decorated by the stairs. “Hello?” You called out. “I wanted to surprise you guys!” You exclaimed while dragging in your suitcase. The house was quiet, but maybe they went out. After you dragged your suitcase into your old room, you pulled out your phone to call your parents. It turns out they had gone out… Of town… For the holidays. Why they never brought it up was beyond you, but there you were… Stuck in your childhood house alone.

“Jin says Itadori is home for the holidays as well. Why don’t you go say hello?” Your mother suggested. Itadori Yuji. Your childhood friend. The one who’s bedroom lined up with yours. Both playing together since you were little, you being a few years older than him. Growing up with him, your mind was filled with fond memories of the two of you, your heart never failing to flutter at the thought of him.

“I’ll have to stop by and see him.” You chimed while looking at yourself in the mirror, readjusting your hair. After a little more small talk with your mother, you hung up the phone and kneeled before your suitcase. When you opened it you rummaged through and pulled out the red formfitting sweater dress. You quickly changed into it and placed a big black belt around your waist to accentuate it. Finally you pulled up your hair into a ponytail and adorned it with a matching red ribbon. You touched up your makeup and flattened the dress before grabbing your jacket and heading next door. Knocking three time, you rocked on your heels while waiting on the porch. You could hear footsteps beyond the door, and your heart was beating faster than you could imagine.

Itadori was your best friend. One that you never admitted your true feelings to. Despite being so close as kids, you both parted ways when you went off to college, and he moved across the country on a track scholarship. You rarely saw him since you left, and you were nervous about the strain the distance had placed on your friendship. So there you were, twiddling your thumbs while waiting for him to open the door as you nervously thought about what he would say.

The door swung open to reveal a shirtless Itadori. There were drops of sweat decorating his chest and defined abdomen, beads above his brow. Grey sweat pants hung low on his hips, his V peeking out above the hemline. His eyes widened at the sight of you before his lips turned up into the brightest smile. Before you had time to say anything, he wrapped his strong sweaty arms around you and hugged you tight. “I can’t believe you’re here!” He beamed into your ear with your cheek pressed to his warm chest. When you inhaled through your nose, you took in that peculiar musk of his that always carried a hint of sunflower seed. It warmed your cheeks, and you took comfort in the nostalgia and familiarity. You placed your hand on his chest, closing your eyes and thumbing his skin as you leaned into his touch.

“Mom told me you were here too. How long are you here for?” You wondered aloud as you both pulled away.

“All of winter break. Sorry for the sweaty hug…” He chuckled nervously while rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s ok. Can I come in?” You questioned, the tips of your fingers growing cold in the winter air.

“Oh!” His brows raised before he stepped aside. “Of course!”

“How’s college going for you?” You asked while sliding off your coat to then place on the coat rack by the door, bending over to unlace your boots. Despite the question, you were met with silence as you slid them off. When you straightened, you looked over your shoulder to see Ita’s eyes looking below your waist. When you turned around to face him, you noticed the apples of his cheeks turn as pink as his hair and you couldn’t help but giggle. “I know you like big butts mi nene bueno, but I’d appreciate you listening to me!” You pouted, secretly enjoying the flustered look on his face. His eyes widened and the blood drained from his face.

“I-! I just-! College is fine.” He squeaked out before regaining his composure. “I just won-”

“I’m aware. You think I don’t keep up with your meets?” You teased with a smile while cutting him off. His smile returned, bright as ever with his grin so wide his eyes squeezed shut.

“You look good…” He finally spoke with his eyes resting on you. The heat rose to your cheeks while your heart skipped a beat. “I’m going to go shower and get cleaned up… Mi casa es su casa.” He spoke with a thick accent that made you giggle. “I’m taking spanish for you, you know.” He stated while trudging up the stairs, the thought of him doing something that took so much effort made you smile… Like an idiot in love.

“That’s probably just a requirement.” You sneered with a playful tone as he disappeared into the hall upstairs.

“I could’ve chosen any language!” He countered while shouting back at you as you smiled to yourself.

Are you yandere?

Or is he?

[gifted-burnout-archive]

All I Want For Christmas Is You

Word Count: 5.8K+

Author’s Note: ok so someone ask me why I chose pedraz and I’ll tell you. I loved writing this, I think we all missed luke smut, I know I did. And frenemies is always fun, especially when the sexual tension is real. And christmas time too! i hope you guys enjoy it.

Pairings: luke patterson x reader - cousin!julie x reader

Warnings: smut, baby!

--

Some people just radiate confidence, wherever they go, whatever they do. You meet one of those people and often find yourself blown away by their beauty, their intelligence, their sheer, raw and unfiltered talent: the sort of people that walk into a room and all eyes suddenly fall onto them, because why wouldn’t they?

In short, there wasn’t a lot that Luke wasn’t good at.

The Los Feliz senior was perhaps the most popular kid in school; the band he was lead guitarist of certainly aided in that status, but in truth he was just that likeable, that talented, that handsome. He would find himself denying it when complimented, diverting the praise somewhere else, holding on to what little humility a guy that appealing could have. The sort of person who would spend his weekends helping the homeless or saving cats from trees, all while keeping up with his schoolwork, a meticulous work out routine and band practice.

And yet he still couldn’t convince the girl he liked to go out with him.

“Morning, pendejo.” As the school bell rung one colder-then-usual December morning, Luke was greeted by the familiar term of endearment from his locker neighbour and Julie Molina’s older cousin, Y/N. A senior, like he was, and his bandmate’s closest confidante, Y/N and Luke had been acquainted for their entire childhoods, and ‘friends’ for perhaps seven months out of fifteen plus years. They had gone through grade school together, just like Luke had with Alex, and later on Reggie when he moved to LA, lived down the street from one another, ran in similar social circles for the majority of high school.

That wasn’t to say they were actually friends, quite the opposite in fact. Their mutual of Julie forced upon them each other’s company, despite the very blatant truth everyone but Luke’s lead singer and Y/N’s prima pequeña was unaware of:

Luke and Y/N were too competitive to ever get along.

In the same way that Luke lit up rooms with his smile and charmed the socks off of every person he met, Y/N did the same. Call it her adoptive mother’s perfectionist agenda, her own high expectations, or simple happenstance, Y/N Pedraz was the sort of person whose only obstacle was her own mind. The sort of person who had the brightest stars in her eyes and the sweetest symphonies in her laughter, with a brain as sharp as her wit and extensive vocabulary to offend someone in three separate languages; she was the girl with the wall of blue ribbons and the report card with straight As, the girl who, alongside her aunt, taught Julie piano.

The girl Luke had been in love with since 6th grade.

“Idiota? Are you even listening?” Luke was snapped from his thoughts to look back down at the girl stood beside him, watching him with a raised eyebrow as he tried to form enough saliva in his mouth, that had suddenly become very dry, in hopes of responding. After a few seconds of no luck, Y/N smiled and shook her head. “Not wasting your breath on me, how sweet. Julie wants you and the guys to come to mine for band practice. Something about the studio roof having a hole in it and people coming to fix it, and my mom is on her holiday detox cruise until the New Year so the only person you’ll be disturbing is me!” The chipper tone of voice was laced in sarcasm, and Luke couldn’t help but role his eyes at her, to which she scoffed. “Since I’m doing you the favour, Mr Rockstar, you should maybe be nicer to me.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you Princess?” Luke finally found his words, calmed his heart beat, and dressed his face with a cheeky smirk as he closed over his locker and leant back against the cool blue metal. “But if we were nice to each other, who would hate us?” He posed the question, earning a soft smile from the girl, a victory in his book. It wasn’t often he got a genuine smile out of her.

“The problems with being perfect, Patterson.” She collected her books and closed over her own door, spinning on her sneaker heel with a flip of her hair. “Hasta luego, guapo.” She called back to Luke, making her way towards her next class as the second bell of the day rang, and Luke muttered a soft ‘shit’ as he started in a sprint towards his first class on the other side of the school.

He managed to cross the doorway of his English class just as the bell rang, sending a wink and grin to his teacher Madame Monroe, who was so old people were convinced she immortal, and taking his seat at the back of the class with a sigh of relief, busying himself with pulling out their current reading piece and notepad.

“Hey man-” he started to whisper as he looked to his left, only to find Alex already holding out a pencil to him, the pair sharing a smile. “Thanks.”

“I’m guessing the Queen ambushed you, that’s why you’re late?” Reggie asked from his right, Monroe calling on some of the lacrosse players to wheel in the old tv stand: the end of term had some benefits, at least, and the class in unison tidied away their books for the period.

“We’re supposed to head to her place after school, band practice, Julie’s orders.” Luke explained in a low enough voice that Monroe’s limited hearing wouldn’t catch.

“She told me this morning.” Alex agreed, his friends looking over. “What? Student Council happens before school, we were both here early.” He muttered, folding his arms and slouching a little in his seat. “Besides, I like her. I know Luke doesn’t but I do.” Alex took a moment before defending himself, gesturing to the band’s guitarist with a sickly sweet smile. “She’s you, but a little less irritating.”

“Hey!” Reggie interjected, to what Luke hoped was a counter attack. “Y/N is extremely less irritating.” Reggie corrected to the chuckles of himself and Alex, and the groans of Luke stuck in the middle. “You know she got me a Christmas present last week? When was the last time I got one of those from you, Luke?”

“Can it Peters, you know I’m broke.” Luke punched his friend’s arm playfully, and the conversation ended as some VHS b-rated movie started to play, leaving Luke to sit with himself, and wonder just how he was meant to focus on band practice that night in Y/N’s house.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of Christmas movies and idle chatter about their upcoming gig, and with the end of the school day, Alex, Reggie and Luke made their way towards the Pedraz house. Julie’s Tía’s house was only a few street south of the Molina residence. The neighbourhood was lovely: the houses were a little bigger, the lawns a little greener, the air a little sweeter, but as the three friends made their way over from school that evening, the sun already setting as half past four closed in on them, they were more than aware that the Christmas decorations weren’t the only artificial thing on the street.

Everything about the place was almost too perfect: the comforts and mess and the smell of chocolate that seemed to constantly circulate over the Molina home was lost to the Pedraz residence on Mercer Drive: Alex knew, his parents developed the area. There was no room for gum on the sidewalks or dry patches of grass, not a soccer ball or trampoline or anything fun in sight. The holiday décor was simple Christmas lights, all the same colour, all the same icicle effect design in a bright white-blue to match alongside the greyscale housing. Every inch of the Mercer development looked the same, almost like a movie set for one of those new Netflix movies, and it was almost disturbing.

Almost: because just as the three boys arrived at their destination, they spotted the only house on the row with paper snowflakes in the window and a snowman sat by the door; the only house, it seemed, to have anyone under the age of fifty living in it.

“You found it!” The cry came as the front door swung open, Julie rushing over and hugging each of the boys in greeting, careful to avoid the guitars Luke and Reggie had strapped to their backs, before taking Alex by the arm and leading him inside, towards that same Molina smell of chocolate that wafted from the house. “Hurry up, Y/N made cookies.” She added, talking to Reggie and Luke, the former wasting no time in rushing into the home and kicking off his shoes.

Luke found himself paused, what his friends believed to be his reluctance to enter the home was actually his taking a moment to examine: to notice the wreath on the doorway that was sprinkled in a coat of glitter; or the way each of the snowflakes in the front room window were cut with perfectly straight lines despite the intricate patterns; how beyond the blinds he could see the flickering Christmas tree lights.

“You coming in or what?” It was the second time that day Y/N caught Luke off guard, Luke following the sound of her voice to her frame in the doorway, arms folded over a white slip dress, paired with a deep green turtleneck under it, and white fluffy slippers. Her hair was tied up, a messy bun atop her head, that did little to make her appear taller. “You’re letting out the heat, Patterson.”

“Really? With how cold your personality is, I assumed your house was some sort of modern day ice palace.” Luke quipped back, making his way up the front lawn’s path and onto the little porch. Y/N seemed hesitant to let him in, almost as hesitant as he was to enter: he had never been to her house before, this was new territory. Their common ground at the Molinas was the limit of their out-of-school socialisation. “You look really nice in, uh, the dress is…” Luke started, in hopes of relieving the tension.

“Don’t strain yourself.” Y/N seemed to concede, walking back into her house and, by association, allowing Luke to follow her in and close over the door. He followed her straight to the kitchen, where Julie was sat on a counter while Alex and Reggie dug into the fresh baked cookies. “You can you the front room, there’s another batch of cookies in the oven that need to come out in seven minutes.” Y/N began to explain to the band, Reggie pausing the shoving of sweet treats into his mouth for a moment to listen. “There’s juice in the fridge, if you need anything urgent I’ll be in my room. Upstairs, second door on the right.” She informed, walking over and letting Julie latch onto her, forcing the girl into a hug from her little cousin.

“Don’t you want to stay and listen? We’re pretty good, you know.” Julie gave her best puppy dog eyes, and Luke couldn’t help but smile as he watched Y/N pinch the singer’s cheeks.

“I know you’re good, but someone has to plan the fundraiser you’re performing at.” Y/N reminded. As a member of the Student Council, and an upstanding citizen in general, she had been asked to assist in organising the community Christmas Concert, a concert she had also gotten her little cousin’s band on the set list for. “Besides, I like surprises.” She assured, picking up a cookie from the cooling rack and taking a bite as she headed upstairs, leaving the four friends to their own devices.

--

“Luke, come on man, what is going on with you today?” Alex asked, hours later, as the four sat at Julie’s kitchen table, pizza for dinner. Their rehearsal that had had been far from great, Luke had barely been responsive half the time, and when Ray called Julie about ordering pizza for the guys and her, ending their rehearsal and sending them back up the street of Julie’s house, their was plenty left to be desired.

“The last time you played that bad was the stomach flu of ’15.” Reggie added, his eyes widening. “Dude you better not be sick.”

“I’m not, I’m fine… It’s…” Luke sighed, taking another bite of his pepperoni slice, his brows furrowed. He didn’t know what was going on with him: if it was because of Y/N and being in her house and knowing she was around, or something else entirely, but the guys were right.

He had never played worse.

“Do you really dislike her that much?” It was just that asked the question, Luke looking across the table at his bandmate, perhaps his closest friend, only to see her looking back at him with sad eyes and a deep frown herself.

“Jules-” Luke started, but she cut him off.

“I know she can be stubborn and I know she can be a little overbearing at times, but I just thought if you guys spent more time together, got to know each other, you might get along?” Julie began, setting down her pizza and beginning to pace the kitchen floor like she often did when stressed out. She took a deep breath, her voice shaky as she started up again. “She can be an asshole sometimes, sure, but she got us the Christmas Concert gig, she suggests us to play every school event, she’s my cousin Luke! And I know you two don’t always see eye to eye on stuff because you’re competitive, or whatever, but can’t you just try and be-”

“I’m in love with her.”

Julie stopped pacing then, turning to look over at Luke as he sat at the end of the table, his head hung low as his hands rake through his hair.

“That’s not funny, Luke.”

“Good. It’s not a joke.” He responded, looking up at his friends with a pained smile, letting out a short, cold laugh. “I’m in love with Y/N, I’ve been in love with her for six years… Give or take.” He confessed to it, finally, and was greeted by the most confused expressions on his friends’ faces.

“But you hate each other!” Reggie exclaimed; of the opinion he was stating the obvious. “You fight with Y/N more than Flynn fights with Carrie, you compete against her at everything, you spend more time complaining about her than anyone else you know and you know me. And Carrie! This has to be some sort of joke, man, I mean-”

“You’ve proven to the entire world you’re incompatible, both of you. Like, if ever there were two people who despised each other more, who made the effort to despise each other more…” Alex trailed off, baffled, her and Reggie both so shocked that they turned to Julie for answers.

She stood at the end of the table, arms folded just like Y/N did, her eyes narrow as she examined Luke, watching his reactions to his friends’ words. How he screwed up his nose at the mention of their shared rival of Carrie Wilson, the way he smiled like Reggie’s ranting invoked fond memories, the shift to a frown when Alex mentioned ‘incompatibility’.

“He’s telling the truth.” Julie decided, Luke’s eyes locking with hers, her face softening as his was painted by surprise. He hadn’t expected her to back him up, but then again he hadn’t expected to tell them about his dilemma either.

“He is?” Reggie whispered, and Julie nodded, confirming her statement. “But… But how? When?”

“She beat me in the school talent show… Sixth grade.” Luke said softly, the memory one he held dear, at least that was what his smile told his friends. “I fucked up and messed up my chord progressions at the end of my guitar piece… And she came on stage and just sang her heart out.”

“If I remember correctly, that happened and then you put pudding into her gym shoes as revenge.” Alex added, still not totally convinced.

“I just took credit for that one… It was actually Dorothy Matthews.”

“That makes sense, she was a mean kid.” Reggie agreed with a nod of the head and an accompanying shiver. “And five inches taller than me for all of middle school.”

“She was really tall, wasn’t she?” Luke agreed, the pair sharing a laugh as Julie and Alex watched on.

“Of topic, guys!” Alex snapped after a moment, the room falling silent as the blonde though over his next words. “So, you’re in love with Y/N, have been for years… And why haven’t you just asked her out?” The question had the conversation back on topic, all eyes on the brown haired boy as he chuckled to himself.

“I have. Multiple times. But it always went wrong or she misunderstood and thought I was joking, and at some point I just gave up trying.” He shrugged, letting out a sigh of defeat that had Julie rolling her eyes.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Patterson.” She said with a smirk. “A complete and absolute fucking idiot.”

“That’s not very nice.” Luke pouted. “Can’t you all just feel sorry about my unrequited love life and forgive me for sucking today?”

“Alex, who do we often refer to as ‘Luke’s female equivalent’?”

“Uh… Y/N?”

“And Reggie, if we know how Luke reacts when he likes someone, would it be safe to assume that Y/N might react in the same way?”

“You mean how Luke has no idea how to ask a girl out and instead teased her for half a decade? Oh, definitely.”

“So… Maybe, Luke, you’ve been so blinded by your assumed rejection that you haven’t noticed that maybe, just maybe, my cousin is also in love with you?” Julie posed the suggestion, and Luke sat up straight.

“That’s insane.”

“Is it though? Alex already said you both were so persistent in showing you despised each other. Maybe, I dunno, she loves you too and doesn’t think you even like her because you do shit like put pudding in her gym shoes!”

“That was Dorothy Matthews!”

“Y/N doesn’t know that!” Julie exclaimed, and Luke fell silent.

It was minutely plausible, the line of reasoning Julie gave, but a part of him couldn’t believe it even though he wanted to. Y/N was perfect; she always had been perfect, and Luke was a musician really considering dropping out of high school before the year was out. How would someone like her… Why would someone like her even think to care about someone like him?

“You know, I feel like now is where we make the big plan, get those lovebirds together, then celebrate by playing the best show ever at the concert, right?” Reggie spoke up through a mouthful of pizza, the four sharing glances.

“It won’t work.” Luke insisted.

“And what if it does?” Julie countered, smiling over at him. “Luke, if you’re so insistent then let me and the guys handle it. You just need to show up somewhere the night before the concert, ok?” She proposed, with an eagerly nodding Reggie on her right and a still perplexed Alex to her left. “Worse comes to worst, we can perform a Mariah Carey cover without you and say you’re sick or something.”

--

It was the last thing Y/N needed, really it was. Julie’s name flashing up on her phone the night before the Christmas Concert, the voice urgent down the phone as she begged her to head home, that Julie would meet her there. It wasn’t like she could say no to her baby cousin in distress, far from it: she would be more than willing to punch the daylight out of whoever had hurt her Jules.

That was what Julie had been betting on, of course, and Y/N arrived home from the mall that evening to find her front door open and a note on her porch.

She rushed over, her brain scrambling to figure out just how to tell her Uncle Ray that Julie had been kidnapped, grabbing the note from the floor and tearing it open:

I’m fine, you’ll thank me later.

                            Julie xx

“Dios mio…” Y/N muttered: her relief integrated with annoyance. Of course her cousin had planned something to get her away from her responsibilities. A glance at her watch, and Y/N realised getting back to the mall in time that night before it closed wouldn’t be a possibility.

That’s when music started to play from inside the house.

“Is this some kind of joke?” She called into her house, noticing for the first time that candles that lit up the hallway in a trail towards her kitchen. They bathed her home in a warm glow, one far more welcoming than the chilly breeze from outside. And with nothing better to do, and curiosity peaked, Y/N stepped inside, closed the front door behind her and followed the trail.

“No joke, I’m afraid… I was just as shocked as you were.” The voice that greeted wasn’t the one Y/N expected: but then, no-one really expected Luke Patterson of all people to be standing in their kitchen, beside what seemed to be a candlelit dinner for two sat on the dining table. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You hungry?” Luke asked with a nervous chuckle, one that Y/N reciprocated. She was safe to say slightly confused, but she had no intention to refuse.

“Starving.” She smiled in response, one of those genuine smiles Luke always liked to see on her face, and Luke pulled out a chair for her to sit down. She accepted, taking a seat and quickly taking her hair out of it’s ponytail when Luke turned around to fetch a bottle of grape soda from the counter.

“Clearly none of our friends have fake IDs, so please pretend it’s alcoholic.” Luke apologised, but the words had Y/N giggling as he poured her ‘wine’ to accompany the pasta dishes that sat before the pair.

“I’m assuming Julie devised some sort of elaborate scheme to make us friends or something?” Y/N asked, and Luke scratched at the back of his neck, the dread already building in his stomach.

“Sort of, yeah.”

“Sort of?” Y/N asked, her brows furrowing as she waited on Luke’s explanation. He quickly picked up the bottle again with a shaky hand, clearly not the best of ideas, since the pouring of red grape soda into his wine glass soon turned to the toppling of said glass and the liquid spreading across the table.

“Shit!” Luke exclaimed, jumping up and surveying the mess he had made, opting to pull of his shirt in a split second decision to try and mop up the juice before it hit the grey carpets below. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I swear to God I’m not usually this uncoordinated.” He rambled, managing to mop up the juice without getting any on the carpet. His eyes moved up, to check in on the silent Y/N, who sat with clasped hands and wide eyes. “Fuck…”

“You’re shirtless…” She muttered, doing her best to look anywhere but Luke’s naked chest and abdomen.

“I am.” Luke agreed, watching the reaction with interest. H wondered for a moment, trying to assess whether she was being respectful of his body and not looking out of simple decency, or if she was embarrassed by the situation for him, or something else. “Y/N?

“Uh huh?”

“Want to tell me where the laundry room is?” He asked, holding back a laugh when she darted up and rushed towards the utility room at the back of the house, beckoning him to follow, grape soda soaked shirt in hand.

Y/N was quick to turn on the light and busy herself setting up the washing machine, seeming glad to have something to do from Luke’s perspective. When she held out a hand for the shirt, he passed it over, crossing to the sink to wash the stick of the soda from his digits as Y/N messed with wash settings.

“It’s uh… It’s just me and mom… I don’t really have clothes you could change into.” Y/N muttered, coming over to the sink to wash her hands free of grape soda too.

“That’s fine.” Luke responded, and physically felt Y/N tense beside him for a moment. “I mean, the wash will take an hour, drying another… Two hours isn’t so long.”

“Two hours is long enough.” Y/N retorted drying her hands and making a quick beeline for the door. A hand caught her arm, stopping her in her tracks.

“Why so edgy, Princess?” Luke asked, unable to find it in himself not to tease the clearly wound up Y/N.

“None of your business.” She responded, looking him in the eye before wrenching her arm free and starting from the main floor of the house.

“I mean, I just want to know what I did wrong, Y/N.” He pleaded, sarcastic in tone, watching Y/N march and efficiently blow out the candles that lit up the kitchen and hallway. He wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline from just being around her, or that fact he was just dumb enough to try it, but when Y/N finished blowing the candles out at the front door, Luke took his chance and pinned her in when she stood up.

“Let me go.” She demanded, keeping her chin high and a level head, here eyes locked with his. Had Luke not been more interested in answers, he would have lost himself in those eyes.

“Not until you answer my question. We’ll call it my Christmas present, since I know you got Reggie and Alex something.” Luke replied with a shit-eating grin, one hand coming to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “So, why so edgy, Princess?”

“Like I’d tell you, asshole.”

“Was it the food? The candles? You don’t like grape juice!” The incorrect guesses, the implied teasing, there was only so much Y/N could handle before she lost her temper.

“I don’t like you! I don’t like you appearing out of nowhere in my house and making dinner and having fire hazards everywhere! I don’t like you mopping up soda with your shirt and acting like you being shirtless is no big deal when it is! It really is…” She trailed off for a second, snapping back from whatever memory flashed before her eyes. “I don’t like you so close to me either! I should have you arrested for trespassing and indecent exposure, Patterson.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“And why not?”

“Because if you really didn’t want me this close to you, you would have punched me in the face by now.” Luke chuckled. “Everyone knows after Bradley Jacobs in sophomore year that you have a mean left hook.” He reminded her of the time she punched the kids making sexist comments: she had charmed her way out of suspension.

“You’re meant to be performing in my Christmas show tomorrow, I’d prefer you not to have a black eye.” The excuse was weak, they both knew it. A silence filled the air as they stood close, somewhere between fear and tension, of what kind Y/N didn’t want to admit. “Stop being an asshole, Luke. It’s not fair.”

“What isn’t?” He teased further.

“To do this when you don’t even like me.” She whispered, her eyes closing as she let out a shaky breath, only for them to open in surprise when a set of lips met hers. Luke took the chance, of course he did, and he was glad he did. The taste of her strawberry chapstick was like heaven, the kiss sweet and gentle and chaste. He moved himself back, adding to the space between them as Y/N leant back against the door, her pupils blown.

“Y/N?” He asked, checking in, trying to figure out if he’d be getting the same reward as Bradley Jacobs for his actions. Her name being said shook off the daze she was in, Y/N looking up at Luke, rather apprehensive, stood shirtless in her hallway after he had just kissed her out of nowhere.

“Why… Why didn’t you do that sooner?” She asked, quietly, a smile and giggle coming to her lips as they looked at one another, catching Luke by pleasant surprise.

“I didn’t think you liked me.”

“Didn’t think- Luke I asked you out two weeks ago and you said no!” She exclaimed through her laughter, another wave of giggles hitting her when Luke’s mouth formed into an ‘o’.

“The library trip…” He realised, letting himself laugh too. “I mean, you really weren’t specific, and you’ve rejected me too you know.” He replied, the smile settling on his face one that wouldn’t go away anytime soon.

Especially not when Y/N closed the space between them and pressed her lips to his.

With the realisation of their stupidity, a sudden desperation added itself to the equation. There was time to make up, actions to apologise for, tension to finally put to use, and neither were planning on stopping until they had won. The kissed turned hungry, tongues clashing as Luke’s hands came down to Y/N’s thighs and lifted her into his arms, starting the climb up the stairway to the top floor of the house.

Y/N wasn’t sure how Luke knew where her room was, she wasn’t sure if what she was doing would backfire on her in some way, but frankly, she didn’t care. As Luke’s hands melted against her body, pulling off her shirt as they fell to the bed, all she wanted was him. His lips moved from hers to her neck, nipping at the skin softly as he hands worked off her skirt, and Y/N’s worked on unbuckling his belt.

They were both in their underwear in a few moments, breathing heavy and looking at one another: Y/N laid back on the bed, Luke sat back on his heels at the end of the bed.

“Do you-”

“Yes.” Y/N replied before Luke had a chance to finish the question. “Do you?”

“God yes.” He agreed, moving up her body and pressing kisses against her skin, goosebumps forming wherever his cold lips hit. When his kisses reached her underwear, his hands wrapped around the flimsy lace material and pulled them off, the kisses continuing on the insides of her thighs.

“Jesus Luke, haven’t we teased each other enough?” Y/N cursed, the words coming out as a moan. It was a sound Luke had wanted to hear her make for so long, he had to put effort into not losing himself right then and there.

“Fair enough.” He conceded, taking no further hesitation in pressing his fingers against her damp core and his tongue to her clit.

Y/N found it hard to control the noises that left her mouth as Luke got to work pleasuring her, his fingers moving at a rapid and steady pace as his tongue teased her sensitivity, the curl of his fingers to her sweet spot only added on by the pressured of his tongue. She did her best to hold back, to quieten down, but in response Luke’s touch disappeared.

“I want to hear you, Princess.” He grinned, moving up the bed and taking her hands into one of his, placing them above her head. “Keep them there.” He ordered, and while Y/N was far from someone who took orders from anyone ever, if it meant Luke’s tongue would be back on her heat, she was happy to do just about anything he said.

As his tongue went back to her core, Y/N didn’t hold back on her moans. She’d thought about the exact event happening at least twice before, but had never pictured Luke at being so good with his mouth. It made sense logically, as a singer his mouth was his weapon, and… Her brain wiped clean as another moan escaped her, pressure building in the pit of her stomach.

“Fuck, Luke…” She whimpered, her back arching, her head falling back into the pillows.

“Cum for me.” Luke spoke in a low voice; his smirk ever present as his fingers took Y/N over the edge into euphoria. It was waves, the feeling a pure pleasure falling over her body, sending her legs trembling as Luke helped her ride out the high. He only moved once he was certain she had completed, slipping his fingers from her core as he leant over the bed, lifting up his jeans to find Y/N resting on her elbows, an eyebrow raised.

“What?” Luke asked as he retrieved the condom from his jean pocket. “A man’s got to be prepared.”

“You really thought I was that easy?” Y/N asked with a grin and she took the package from him and tore it open, taking her time to pump his shaft before rolling on the protection.

“Not that easy in general, no… But I can be…” Luke spoke and Y/N’s lay back and he lined himself up with her entrance, a twinkle in his eye as he pushed himself inside her and spoke. “Persuasive.” The moan elicited from Y/N seemed to prove his theory.

His movements were slow and gentle at first, both of them taking the time to get accustomed to one another, but with a nod from Y/N for Luke to continue, he took control. The pace became fast, thrusts powerful and deep, Luke making sure Y/N wouldn’t be forgetting the feeling of him inside her any time soon. His hands pinned down hers, pressing Y/N down into the bed as he pounded into her, relentless, both chasing their highs.

Y/N rolled her hips in time with Luke, earning groans from the man on top of her, taking the moment of weakness to flip them over, her hands now pining down Luke’s as he lay back on the bed, his face clearly stunned by the move she had pulled, though it didn’t last long. His eyes screwed shut as he let out a groan, his head rolling back at the feeling of Y/N riding his cock, each roll of the hips casting moans from their mouths.

“I’m close…” Luke muttered, looking up to see Y/N somewhere near completion as well. Her hands on his did little to combat his strength, taking control once more to grabbed Y/N’s thighs, thrusting upwards into her a rapid speed for them both to reach their highs through a strings of curses and cries of pleasure.

Y/N let herself fall limp on top of Luke as they both caught their breath, their chests rising and falling in time with one another.

“Well…” Y/N spoke first, biting her lip as she lifted herself off of Luke, giving him a chance to bin the condom. “That was…”

“The best Christmas present ever.” Luke whispered as they lay side by side on Y/N’s bed, the words sending them both into fits of laughter, ones Luke quelled by kissing Y/N gently.

“Yeah. Agreed.”

--

Tags:  @reggiesleatherjacket @parkeret @calamitykaty @crybabyddl @delicatelukepatterson @lukespatterson @kcd15 @siennanoelle01 @eries45 @lolychu @lazydaisy19 @reggieandthereggies @writerinlearning @mjflower @uhmitstori @walkingonshunshine @kristencoontz @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @ritz-hell-hotel @mishappend @dovegranger @dmcfarland1 @cherrymaybank @oswinsleaf​ @only-here-for-jatp​ @jatpfan99​ @n0wornever​ @bookdealer5 @epikskool  @thesweetestsinner @fangirlangioma @moviesbooksandfandoms @ohyoureaqueenbutuncrowned @saroo-hawks @charliessunset @bigdesi @avngrsinitiative @emotionalbruv  @korydickson @uglypeachh @rogersangel @independentgirl @mon-charmante @writingforphantoms @musicconversedance  @heimdoodle​ @-episkey-  @obxmermaid​ @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @simp4madi @aliciameix​ @kinda-just-chillin-here @blueyed-one @ghostlyb1tch @leahstypewriter @parkeret​ @lukereggies​ @hologramband​ @all-in-fangirl​ @daisiesforlacey​ @valntynegillespie​ @lukespaterson​ @dovesgrangers​ @sunsetswerve​ @sorryimricki​ @dani27297​ @talksoprettyjjx​ @imsydneywalker​ @katie-navarro​ @aydoubleu​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @magnet-girl​ @axen-gers​ @dpaccione​ @mjrsposts​ @starswereherspotlight​ @g7aesthetic​

[bellarkeselection]

Ch 16 - Home Sweet Home

Part 17

@stellarosedutton co author

Falling for my Bestie

Tate's POV 

Ever since my little sis was born I have been wanting her to grow up faster so that I can play with her more. Throwing on my jacket I race to see grandpa and dad riding back into the fence area. "Daddy, why can't Evie grow up faster?" Dad gets off his horse picking me up laughing. "Unfortunately the world doesn't work like that buddy. But hey how about we get you riding your pony?" I nod excitedly when he heads for the barn. I've made up my mind of what I want to be in life. I want to be a cowboy. Grandpa says me and Evie will run this place one day and I can't wait. Auntie Beth has bought me two different cowboy hats and boots in the last two months. She's really fun when I'm around her. I tried to get her to ride on my pony with me once but she said I needed to ride on my own. "Alright kick him in the belly to go and pull these to stop." Dad said, placing a tan cowboy hat on my head climbing over the other side of the fence. I lightly kick and my horse starts running around the area a little fast but I throw my freehand up in the air crying out. "Yeah!" Dad chuckles with grandpa watching beside him. "For a nine year old he learns quickly."

Y/N’s POV

Y/N was leaning on the porch post, holding a four year old Evelyn as she walked down the steps and over to Kayce as she watched Tate riding his pony as she was out of the medical boot and happier than ever “Hey handsome, what have you been up to?” She says, holding Evelyn while standing next to Kayce’s horse as she watches the ranch hands working “you wanna go for a walk with me and our little girl?” She says, knowing that Kayce loved going on walks and she wanted to go on a walk with him and their little girl who was enjoying the fact that she was gonna grow up and one day run the ranch with her brother but for now, she wanted them to enjoy everything the ranch had to offer including the scenery as she kissed Kayce’s lips softly before climbing into the saddle of her horse Tala who was a solid black horse as she put both feet in the stirrups “it’s about time i get back in the saddle, been a long time. Hasn’t it girl, we gotta go on our morning rides some more. I’ve missed it, and maybe we should teach Evie how to ride so she knows when she is older”

Kayce’s POV

Tate smiling on riding his horse makes me smile. Climbing on my horse I follow my wife who rides ahead of me carrying our daughter. When we were kids we'd always sneak off in this patch of woods acting like we were camping under the stars when the weather was nice enough. Tate wants his little sister to grow faster so they can play together which makes me laugh. That's what I told my mom when I was little about Y/n. Y/n's horse starts going faster and I catch on quickly to what she's doing. Kicking my horse I raced after hers meeting up with her. "Last one back has to put up the horses!" I called over my shoulder holding onto my hat racing back towards home. Y/n races after me neck and neck with my horse. Y/n somehow beats me and she throws her fist in the air cheering. "I win, even while holding a baby in my lap!" Waving my freehand around I dismount my horse shaking my head. "Yeah, yeah. You win...this time." She starts to respond but a gunshot goes off making everyone turn their heads to the front porch. My sister holding up a shotgun that was aimed at the wind chimes, she sits back down in her chair. "Home sweet home." Dad chuckles out as we all laughed, Beth always makes home interesting. 

Y/n's POV 

Y/N was standing there with Evelyn, walking into the kitchen as she sat the little girl on the counter before she started cooking dinner while she made sure that Evie stayed put as she made everyone’s favorites before setting the table quickly as she had heard that Jamie was coming to the house for dinner for the first time in years, she was nervous and didn’t know what to do because she had grown up with Jamie but he left after mom died so it was harder for her to remember him but she was making enough for everyone including Beth, Rip, Jamie, Lee, Me, Tate, Evie, and Dad because she was used to cooking for us but this was the first family dinner without mom here and she was so used to cooking for mom too so she made the biscuits, two big pots of them as she put everything on the table before walking outside with Evie on her hip as she sees everyone standing there “let’s go, time for dinner. We’ve got biscuits too, figured it would be good to make those as well as fry bread too”

Kayce’s POV

Coming down the stairs pulling on a flannel shirt my nose caught the smell of the biscuits. Entering the kitchen I see Y/n holding Evie after setting up the table. "If I didn't know any better I'd say you're trying to act like mom." I chuckled, wrapping my arms around her from behind. She smiles feeling Evie tugging at her shirt. The front door opened and we both went to go see Jamie enter the house. “Jamie.” I go to hug him and he hugs me back, mumbling.” Hi, brother.” Lee comes in with dad and Tate all sitting down at the table. Y/n and I sit down with Evie in a highchair. “Where’s auntie Beth at?” Tate asked, looking around the table. The front door opens and she walks in suddenly stopping in her tracks eyeing Jamie. “Why the hell is this asshole here?” Y/n covers our daughters ears and I cover Tate’s. Lee scolds our sister. “Beth language.” She stomps over to her chair by dad slumping down. “Sweetheart, can you please sit through one family dinner?” He questioned, shaking his head. Jamie eyes her tilting his head down. Rip notices something on the table beside the biscuits. “Is that fried bread, Y/n?” She nods, handing him a plate. “Beth said your mom made it when you were little.” He takes a bite smiling at her, complimenting her cooking. “Just like mom used to make. Thanks.” Gator enters the room asking. “What drinks do you all want?” Beth flips her hair, holding an unlit cigarette in her free hand. “Three shots of ice cream and three shots of tequila.” Tate raises his hand requesting. “Chocolate milk, please.” Silence fell over the dinner table as we all ate but it was clear there's tension between my sister and jamie. 

Y/N's POV

Y/N was sitting there, enjoying the family dinner even though there was tension as she noticed that Evelyn was falling asleep in the chair as she scooped her up "well I'm gonna take her to bed, she is sleeping. I'll be right back" She says, walking upstairs quietly as she laid Evelyn down in her bed as she covered Evelyn up and kissed her head before going back downstairs and sitting down at the table as she quietly eats her food and holds Kayce's hand in hers. 

Kayce's POV

Y/n and I go sit down in the porch swing enjoying the sunset. Her head lay on my chest with my arms wrapped around her. Who would have thought her childhood dream of us ending up together would become real. Lifting my head I hear a truck pull into the driveway. Someone slams the driver door for us to see Walker match up the stairs. “I want full rights over my son.” He tosses a legal document in Y/n’s lap, she picks it up reading it aloud. “Child custody papers.” Walker nods angrily, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll see you in court Monday morning.” Looking down at my wife I rest a hand on her leg, worried in my eyes. “Kayce, what are we gonna do?” This was gonna be a legal battle which is something only one person in this family is good at. If my wife and I want to keep Tate we’d need Jamie’s help, and Beth won’t like it one bit. 

Comments welcome 🤗

[drabbles-mc]

Five Times Angel Reyes Kissed You, and One Time You Kissed Him

Angel Reyes x Reader

Warnings: language, mention of death/funerals

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Okay I got this idea at like midnight last night and I’m SO GLAD that I didn’t lose it before being able to sit down and write it. I’m pretty hype about how this came up. We LOVE to see relationships evolve.

Angel Taglist:​ @queenbeered​ (If you want to be added just let me know!)

1.)

You were fifteen, sitting on the front steps of your porch. You were sobbing into your hands, wondering how you could feel so much pain when you hadn’t even taken a beating. First heartbreaks were the worst, or at least that’s what people had told you. Some said it was bound to happen eventually, after all you were young, but that didn’t make the pain go away. You were a teary, sniffling mess. You heard footsteps approaching you and you didn’t even bother to look up to see who it was. You didn’t care.

You felt an arm wrap around you and you heard Angel’s voice, “What happened? I’ll kick his ass.”

You looked up and managed what you could of a smile. You knew him only because he was your best friend’s brother. He was a few years older than you, but he had never treated you like a child. He treated you the same way he treated EZ—like an adult only smaller.

“It’s so fucking stupid,” you wiped the tears off of your face, “He’s not even that cute, right?”

He chuckled, nodding in agreement, “That’s right. You can do way better, Y/N. Fuck that guy.”

You sighed and leaned against him, “Do boys get less stupid as they get older?”

He laughed, “I’ll keep you posted, but so far, no I don’t think so. Sorry,” he squeezed you tight to him, “You gonna be alright?”

You took a deep breath and nodded, “Yea. It just, you know, it kinda blows right now.”

He nodded, “I get it,” he quickly kissed the top of your head, you could feel the pressure through your hair, “You’ll get through it, Y/N. If you change your mind about me kicking his ass, let me know. I’ll fuck up a fifteen-year-old. I don’t care.”

 ---

2.)

You were eighteen, coming down the front steps of your house in your prom dress. You and EZ had decided to go together as friends (as much as both your parents and his tried to insist that maybe it was a little more than that). You both wanted to have a good time and the only way you could be certain of that was if you skipped the drama of trying to find “real dates”. There were worse people to spend the night dancing with, anyway.

Somehow Angel had gotten suckered into being your guys’ chauffer. You were fairly certain it was their parents’ doing—they liked knowing what Angel was up to. He moaned and groaned about it but had gone and got his pickup truck washed in preparation for the big night. He put on a clean dress shirt for the occasion as well, so you knew that despite his sarcastic remarks, he was pretty into the whole thing.

You twirled, loving the way your dress fanned out around you as you did. EZ was leaning against the side of his brother’s truck, chuckling at your theatrics. The two of you posed for pictures, and after each set of parents had burned through at least a few rolls of film each, it was time to get going. Angel held his hand out to help you up into his truck.

When you placed your hand in his, he lifted and kissed the back of it with a laugh, “I will be your driver this evening, Hermosa.”

You laughed and gave an exaggerated courtesy in your gown, “Ah, I can’t wait, Señor.”

He chuckled as he helped you step up into the vehicle, expertly managing not to step on your own dress. He even double-checked to make sure that he didn’t shut any of the fabric in the door.

He nodded to both sets of parents, “I’ll be sure to have them home before midnight.”

 ---

3.)

You were nineteen, and calling him from a college party. EZ was away at Stanford and you didn’t know who else you trusted enough to come and pick you up and also not rat you out to your parents. You weren’t supposed to be at a party—you had lied and said you were staying at a friend’s dorm for a movie night.

“Angelito,” you laughed into the phone, “I need a huge favor.”

His voice was still laden with exhaustion and sleep as he answered, “What the fuck kind of favor do you need at 2AM, Y/N?”

“I need you to come pick me up from a party.”

“You kidding me? Call an Uber.”

You laughed, “I also need a place to crash. I know you have a couch that you’re not using in your living room.”

He sighed but you could hear him shuffling around, getting ready to come get you, “You good enough to ride on the bike? Or do I need to go get Pop’s truck?”

“I can ride!” your response came a little quicker than maybe it should have, but you were dying to have an excuse to ride on the back of Angel’s bike.

“Alright. Text me the address. I’m on my way now.”

He got there quicker than you thought he would. You were outside the house, waiting patiently for him on the front steps. You smiled as you jumped up to go and hug him, stumbling on your first few steps. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he hesitated for a moment before finally caving and hugging you back.

“You owe me for this,” he grumbled.

He handed you his helmet and helped you get on the back of the bike. You wrapped your arms tightly around his waist, keeping yourself flush up against his back as he took off. You had never experienced anything quite like the feeling of racing down the empty streets like that in the middle of the night.

You walked into his apartment and looked around as he locked the door behind you, “I put a pillow and blankets on the couch for you. I can go grab you a shirt and stuff to sleep in if you wait a second.”

You plopped down on the couch as he walked to his room to get you a few choices of sleep clothes. But as soon as your head hit the pillow and you felt the warmth of the blankets beneath you, you almost immediately fell asleep.

You were hanging onto your consciousness by a thread when you heard him chuckle. He pulled the blanket up over you and kissed your forehead softly, “Sweet dreams, you pain in the ass.”

 ---

4.)

You were twenty-one, and standing in front of Angel and the rest of his family, or rather, what was left of it, at his mother’s wake. You had made your way down the line, offering your condolences like they were going to make things any better for the three men in front of you. Angel was the last in the short line, and you could see it on his face that he desperately wanted to be anywhere else. He couldn’t escape though, not really.

You stepped in and hugged him tightly, “I’m so sorry, Angel.”

You could feel the tension in his body as he tried his hardest to hold back his tears, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Can I do anything? Get you anything?”

“Could you, uh,” he cleared his throat, “grab my water bottle? It’s in the back room I fuckin’ forgot it.”

You nodded, “Yea I got you.”

You tried to make your way through the crowd of people with as little disturbance as possible. You knew that everyone loved the Reyes family, and Marisol especially, but even you were shocked at the number of people who had showed up for the wake. You had the feeling it was going to go well past the allotted time.

You appeared back by Angel’s side, trying to slip him his water bottle without disturbing the conversation he was having. You lightly touched his hand and gestured to the bottle by his feet, “Anything else?”

He shook his head, “No, thank you, Y/N.”

You pulled him into another hug, unable to stop yourself. You had spent a lot of time with EZ during the week leading up to the wake, but Angel had locked himself away. This was the first time you had really seen him since you heard the news and you felt like you were trying to make up for lost time.

“Anything you need,” you whispered, “You come find me, alright? I got you.”

He kissed your cheek and nodded as he pulled away, “Thank you. I, just, thank you.”

You thumbed the tears off of his face, giving him a small smile to let him know that he was going to make it through this. It was going to be a long, painful process, but he was going to get through it.

 ---

5.)

You were twenty-one, and crying on the front steps to Angel’s apartment building. You couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that your best friend had just been sentenced to spend twenty years in prison. Everything was happening so quickly around you and you felt like you couldn’t keep up.

You heard the sound of Angel’s bike and looked up. He saw you sitting on the front steps and his expression immediately fell. He had a feeling that you were going to end up at his place—he knew that you didn’t want to go home and face your family and all of the questions that they would have.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffed, “I didn’t know where else to go.”

He nodded, “Yea, I know the feeling,” he held out his arms, “C’mere, Y/N.”

You stood up and walked over to him and let him envelop you. Over the years he had made fun of you a lot for being so short, but in that moment you had never been happier to be so small. You were essentially wrapped up in an Angel blanket and for a few moments the world didn’t feel like it was crumbling around you.

“Come on up, I got beer in the fridge,” he offered what he could of a smile as he gestured for you to follow him upstairs.

You sat on his couch, twisting your hands in your lap as he went and got each of you a beer from the kitchen. He collapsed down next to you and handed you a bottle. You managed a small smile and thanked him before taking a long drink from it. The two of you sat there in silence, leaning against each other as you tried to process everything that had happened.

“I don’t have anything to say to make any of this shit any better, you know,” he finally said with a heavy sigh.

You nodded, “I know. I just needed to not be alone. And I couldn’t go home. Not yet.”

“I get it. You wanna crash here tonight?”

“If that’s alright?”

He smiled, “Like I could ever kick you out.”

The two of you spent most of the night not speaking to each other, just sitting next to each other on the couch letting episode after episode of your favorite shows play. You were leaning your head against his shoulder and every now and then he would look over at you to see if you had started to fall asleep yet.

“Want a change of clothes to sleep in?” he offered.

You nodded, “That’d be great.”

He went and grabbed one of his sweatshirts and tossed it to you, “This shit’ll be a dress on you.”

You stood up and started walking towards the bathroom to get changed, thanking him as you went. You knew that he didn’t have to be doing all of this, but he was anyway. It felt nice and that wasn’t something you had felt for a while.

When you came back out of the bathroom he had blankets and pillows on the couch for you. He pulled you into another hug and placed a kiss on your temple as he held you, letting you cry it out a little more before going to sleep. You wished that you could sleep like that, just to feel safe and protected in the chaos that was surrounding you now. He ran his fingers through your hair and all you could think was that you didn’t know he was capable of being so soft.

“If you need anything just yell, alright?”

You nodded, “Thank you, Angel.”

He winked, “I gotchu.”

 ---

1.)

You were twenty-seven and standing on the deck of the Mayans clubhouse, smoking a cigarette. You blew out the smoke, letting it disappear in wisps around you into the night sky. There was music and laughter and conversation drifting out to your ears from the open clubhouse windows and you smiled to yourself as you kept your eyes on the stars.

You heard heavy footsteps followed by the infamous sound of Angel sucking his teeth, “Ay, you shouldn’t be smoking that. Smoking kills, Querida,” he chuckled as he snatched the cigarette from between your fingers, “Let me finish it for you. To protect you.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “Yea, always looking out for me, huh?”

“Since the day EZ dragged your sorry ass over to our house when you were in like, fifth grade,” he laughed as he looped his arm around your shoulder.

“Thanks for the invite, by the way,” you nodded back to the clubhouse, “The guys seem pretty cool.”

He took a long drag from your cigarette and smiled at you, “I’m gonna have to bring you to every club party now, aren’t I?”

You laughed and playfully slapped his chest, “Only if you don’t want me to be sad.”

“Well,” he chuckled, “Can’t have that, can we?”

The two of you stood together in silence for a couple minutes. His arm was still wrapped around your shoulders and you leaned into his side, soaking up his scent and body heat. While he was glancing up at the sky you reached and snatched your cigarette back from him, laughing as you ran off to the opposite side of the deck to take a drag before he finished it off.

He laughed, walking over to you. He easily took it from your fingers and held his arm up so it was way out of your reach, “Whatcha gonna do now, Y/N? Grow an extra foot to get your smoke back?”

“If I take you out at the knee I won’t have to do anything like that,” you chuckled as you stood up on your tippy-toes to try and pull his arm back down.

He flicked the last of the cigarette over the railing of the deck, assuring that neither of you were going to be able to finish it. He turned back towards you with a smug grin on his face, “Hah! No taking out my kneecaps.”

You pushed him with both hands on his chest, but he still didn’t budge. He laughed, shaking his head at your attempt to be tough, “You’re gonna have to do better than that.”

You stepped in close to him, getting as close to eye-to-eye as you were ever going to get with someone who was practically a foot taller than you. “I could easily make you stumble, Angel. Believe me.”

“No chance,” he shook his head with a smirk.

“Wanna bet?”

“Oh, definitely,” he laughed.

Before he could come up with another sassy remark you stood back up on your toes and pulled him down into a kiss. His eyes flew open wide and he stumbled a few steps back, but kept his arms wrapped around you so you stayed close to him, kept kissing him.

You pulled away, laughing as your entire face turned dark red, “Told you.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. If you didn’t know better you’d say that his cheeks were turning a little red too. “Alright,” he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close to him again, “that’s a loss I’ll gladly take.”

You smiled as you cupped his face, pulling him into another, much softer kiss. You could feel both of your hearts racing as he tried to keep you held as close to him as possible. You wrapped your arms behind his neck as you felt his hands slide down from your hips to your ass, and it made you smile into your kiss. You felt him chuckle his hands slid back up to your hips, and crept farther up your back.

Finally, you had to pull away to catch your breath. Angel had a smile plastered across his face and you knew that you did too. He reached up, gently pushing the hair back out of your face to get a better look at you.

“I could get used to this, Y/N,” he traced his thumb along your cheekbone.

You smiled, giving him a quick peck on the lips, “Yea, I think I could too.”

[nowandajenn]

Can i ask for a fic wich chris and reader had a fight and broke up and chris really want to take her back but can't find her because she was mad and change her adress and number but he didn't give up and finally find her but also find out that she has their new born Triplet ?!

So I’m finally just now getting around to writing this, and I apologize for it taking so long to get done! I did decide to make it twins instead of triplets, because triplets is a fucking lot lol. I hope you still enjoy it!

Not proofread. All mistakes are my own. 

It had taken months to find you. After the break up, you had essentially become a ghost. You changed your phone number, you moved, and it seemed like nobody knew where you had gone, and the ones that did know sure as hell weren’t about to tell him how to find you. He had been a complete idiot; going to lunch with Jenny and spending time with her while he had a girl that he was slowly falling in love with waiting for him. They had such a strong history together though, and so many memories shared together, that he couldn’t seem to just walk away from it all. 

Of course, they had been snapped out at a restaurant together, talking and laughing, and it wasn’t long until the pictures hit the internet and your friends and family had been blowing up your phone, asking what the hell was going on. Your relationship with Chris was still fairly new, as you’d only been seeing each other for about eight months or so, and you were trying to enjoy just being with Chris and being happy while also worrying that you were a rebound for him after he and his ex had broken up a second time.

Chris had come home later that evening with flowers for you, only to find you going around the house packing up all of the stuff that you had kept there. He had recently been bringing up you moving in with him since you spent most of your time there anyway, but you felt like it was too soon, and you didn’t know if he was quite as ready for that step as he said he was. Now you were really glad that you had held off. 

The two of you had stood there and fought and argued, you telling him that you deserved more than to just be a rebound to try and help him get over the girl who he once claimed was “the love of his life” and you weren’t going to stick around if he was going to go behind your back and spend time with her and try and rekindle things for a third time. You told him that he was an idiot to think that the third time would be the charm when it hadn’t worked out the first two times they’d been together. He tried to explain that even though they had broken up, he still cared about her and just because they spent time together didn’t mean that they were getting back together. He told you that you absolutely were not a rebound, and he was falling in love with you, but you weren’t hearing it. You had picked up your duffel bag, and with a kiss to his cheek and hugging Dodger around the neck and stifling a small sob into his fur, you had walked out of his life. 

It didn’t take long to see what a huge idiot he had been, and how wrong he had been to see Jenny and not tell you about it or have any sort of conversation about it. He hated that you had been blindsided, and he hated that he made you feel like he was using you as a distraction or something to fill the void left after Jenny left. He tried to text you and call you, but all the texts were left on “delivered” and you would reject his calls, until one day he tried calling you and a stranger answered and told Chris that he had the wrong number. He finally psyched himself up enough to try and swing by your apartment to see if you would at least see him and let him try and apologize, but when he showed up, your apartment was empty and the landlord said that you had moved out and hadn’t left a forwarding address. He was heartbroken. He had tried talking to your friends, but they were unfailingly loyal to you, and wouldn’t tell him anything. 

It had taken just over seven months, and a lot of failed tries, but he finally had an address in his hand. It was in Chicago, where you had grown up, and he had booked the first flight that he could. He wasn’t sure if you would slam the door in his face or punch him or even open the door to him, but he had to try. If he didn’t, he knew he’d regret it. 

Chris takes a deep breath and knocks on the door, nerves suddenly overtaking him and making his stomach turn itself into knots. After a few seconds, he knocks again and hears a male voice yell “Coming!” His heart drops, immediately assuming that you had moved on from him and he lost his shot. 

The door swings open, and he’s surprised to see an older man, probably in his mid 50s, standing in the doorway. 

“Can I help you?” 

“Uh.....sorry, I think I have the wrong address. I was looking for y/n y/l/n. I’m Chris.” 

The man steps forward onto the porch, making Chris fall back a couple steps. 

“Oh, I know exactly who you are. You’re the one my daughter wouldn’t shut up about for a few months, and then never wanted to speak about again.”

Chris swallows hard, his mouth dry as the desert and feeling a little scared, because  your dad looks kind of mean and like he could lay him out if he wanted to. Your dad turns around and walks back into the house, slamming the door behind him. 

He exhales hard and turns around to walk back to his rental car. 

“That went about as well as I thought it would.” he mutters to himself. 

He’s halfway back to the car when he hears your front door open. He looks up and his breath catches when he sees you standing there, your arms crossed over your chest. You’re wearing a pair of jean shorts that show off your legs and a baggy Tshirt, your hair thrown up in a messy bun. You look like you’ve gained a little bit of weight since the last time he saw you, but it looks good on you. 

“Hey.” he breathes out. 

Your jaw clenches. “How did you find me?”

“Well, you didn’t make it easy. I had Josh track you down. It took a lot longer than I wanted it to. I would have been here about seven months ago if I had known where you were, but nobody would tell me.” 

You scoff. “Yet here you are. Because Chris Evans just doesn’t know when to give up.” 

He winces slightly, knowing that you’re not just referring to his search for you, but the whole thing with Jenny that caused your breakup. 

You both stand there in silence for a few minutes, unsure what to do next, when you breathe out a heavy sigh and wave your arm towards the house, gesturing for him to come in. 

“Come on. We have a lot to talk about.” you tell him.

Your dad shoots him a glare as you lead him into the house, and he swallows hard and follows you into the kitchen, taking your offer of a bottle of water and sitting at the table with you. He’s so focused on you that he doesn’t really take in his surroundings. If he did, what comes out of your mouth wouldn’t have almost shocked him into a heart attack. 

“I tried calling you a couple times over the past few months, but every time I did, I got your assistant, or a P.A. or someone else. I left a message with my number with someone, but I’m assuming that you never got it, or you just didn’t care.”

He shakes his head almost violently. “I never got it. I don’t know who you gave it to, but it never got back to me.” 

You lean back in your chair and take a deep breath. 

“About a month after we broke up, I found out I was pregnant.”

Chris is pretty sure his heart stops beating for a few seconds, and then he realizes that he’s holding his breath. He lets it out in a deep exhale and his heart starts hammering in his rib cage. 

“You.....we.......what?” he gasps.  

“The doctor said I was 7 or 8 weeks at the time. I......I was due to get another shot but I had been so busy that I forgot about it, and.....well. At first, I wasn’t sure I was even going to keep the baby, honestly. We had just broken up and I didn’t know if you even wanted kids right now, or with me, and it took me a while to come to terms with everything. I tried calling you once I decided that I was going to keep it. I knew you had a right to know, even though I was pissed at you and hurt.”

I look over and Chris is just staring at me, gaping like a fish. 

“So....you had a.....we have a.....” he takes a deep breath. “We have a baby?”

“Uh, well......I guess you must have some really strong sperm because we kind of.....have two.” 

Chris looks like he’s about to pass out, and I shove his bottle of water towards him and he drains the rest of it in one go. 

“Look, I don’t need anything from you. We’ll be okay. We’ve been staying here with my dad and he’s been helping out, and I’m getting help from the state. We never talked about having kids, and I know that this is just being dropped on you out of nowhere. If you want a paternity test, we can go today if you want. I’m not trying to trap you into anything or trick you. You have your own life and you’re.....well, you’re you. And I’m nobody. Nobody outside of your family and close friends even knew we were together.”

I know I’m rambling, but I’m nervous and I know I should just stop and let things sink in. We sit there in silence for a while, and I can tell that Chris’ brain is working to try and digest all of the new information and the fact that he’s a father twice over now. I need to do something to keep myself busy, because I can’t keep just sitting there in silence, so I go over to the sink and start washing dishes. 

Chris gets snapped out of his reverie when he hears a sharp cry ring out. He looks around wildly before realizing that it’s coming from a baby monitor on the kitchen counter. You drop the dish your holding in the soapy water and wipe your hands on a dish towel before turning and running upstairs. 

Chris isn’t even really sure he realizes that his feet are even moving before he finds himself upstairs in the doorway of the nursery. He stands there, feeling like his head is disconnected from the rest of his body, watching as you lean over the crib and lift out an impossibly tiny baby who can’t be more than a month old. 

“Shhh, it’s okay. You’re okay.” you whisper, holding the baby against your chest. You turn around and see Chris standing there in the doorway, still looking shocked out of his skin. 

“Come here.” you say softly, beckoning him over. 

He walks over to the crib slowly, his eyes on the infant in your arms and then on the one still sleeping. 

“This is Steven Lucas Evans” you say softly, kissing the baby you’re holding on the forehead, “and that is Christopher Michael Evans.” 

Tears immediately fill his eyes and he inhales deeply, his breath stuttering. 

“How old are they?” 

“Three weeks and two days.” you tell him. 

Chris can’t keep his eyes from drifting in between his two sons, and not wanting to be left out, his namesake wakes up and starts making soft little noises. 

“Go ahead. Pick him up.” you tell him softly. 

“Yeah?” he asks. 

You nod. 

Chris leans over the crib and gently lifts Christopher out, holding him gently against his chest. He’s soft and perfect and has that amazing baby smell that drives people nuts, and Chris feels like his heart is about to explode. He walks a few steps over to you and gazes down at his other son, taking note of both babies’ bright blue eyes. 

“How can you love someone so much you’ve just met?” he breathes. 

You give a small, watery laugh. “I ask myself that every day.” 

Watching Chris with his baby sons is everything you didn’t know you needed. You told yourself that even if Chris didn’t want to be involved, you would get through it and you would be fine. But seeing him sitting in the cushy armchair in the nursery with a baby in each arm is more than you could have hoped for. 

“Tell me about when they were born.” Chris pleads. 

“I went into labor on the 23rd of last month, but they weren’t born until about 6pm the next night. I was in labor for about 20 hours. The doctor wanted to go in and get them, but I knew they’d come on their own time. Christopher was born first, and then 15 minutes later, Stevie showed up. He was screaming before he was even fully out.” 

He squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I wish I could have seen it.” 

“You still can.” 

You pull up a few videos on your phone from different stages of your labor, and one of Christopher being born and then Steven coming along. Tears are running down Chris’ face as he watches, and he’s laughing and crying at the same time, completely overwhelmed with emotion. You flip through a ton of pictures on your phone of you through the pregnancy, and then of labor, and the first pictures of you and the babies. 

“Can you sent these to me? Just....everything you have?” he asks. 

“Yeah. Not a problem.” 

After making bottles and feeding one while Chris feeds the other, a double diaper change, and laying them back down in the crib, you both sit back down. 

“You didn’t get two cribs?” Chris asks. 

“No. I couldn’t really afford two, and when we were in the hospital, they would cry if they weren’t near each other, so the nurses just put them both in the same bassinet and they would calm down. So it all worked out.” I tell him. 

“Come back to Massachusetts with me.” he blurts out. 

He says it so suddenly and with such conviction that I’m speechless for a minute. 

“Chris.....” 

“No, just please.....I love you. I love you and I was an idiot and you had every right to leave me. But being without you has been hell, and I don’t want to be without you. And I can’t go back and not have you or them there with me. I want to be there for everything. I want to see everything. I won’t let you do everything on your own. You don’t have to struggle and get state aid. You can move in with me, or I can get you an apartment close by........just......please come home with me.” 

“Chris, slow down. Listen, you’re their father. You can have as much access to them as you want. I’m not going to take them away from you or keep you from seeing them. That’s the last thing I want. But moving back to Boston......I don’t even have a job right now. I’ve been doing freelance articles for the last few months to get by. And we have all this stuff....and there’s furniture and......” 

“You can write from anywhere. You’re so talented; you’ll find a job in no time. I promise. Until then, I can take care of you guys. That’s my job now. As for all the stuff, I can get a UHaul trailer and we can drive back. Or I’ll get a moving company to move it and we can fly back. It doesn’t matter. We can make this work.” 

I can see the desperation in his eyes and how badly he wants this, and it’s enough to break my heart, and I don’t have it in me to tell him no. 

I sigh heavily. “We have a lot to work out and talk about.....but I don’t want you to miss out on anything with the boys. So.......I guess we’re taking a road trip.....with two infants........halfway across the country.” 

Chris grabs me and hugs me to him tightly. 

“It’ll be our first family vacation. I can’t wait for Mom to meet them. She’s going to lose her mind over them. And you.....she’s missed you so much. You have no idea the verbal ass kicking I got from her after you left.”

You smile. “Glad to know that a grown man is still afraid of his mommy.” 

 The Usual Suspects: @averyrogers83 @wordywarriorwrites @imanuglywombat @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @hlkwrites @reminiscingrogers @mom—nicole @jtargaryen18 @alexakeyloveloki @kelbabyblue @sarahp879 @moonlessnight14 @mojean13 @mrskokitztelford @artisticrogers1972 @southerngracela @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @mybesttobobcratchit @gracethegeek9902 @mdemontespan1667 @marvelfansworld @capslut2014 @dispatchvampire @jamielea81 @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety​ @nerdy-bookworm-1998​ @southerngracela​ @what-is-your-plan-today @letsdisneythings​ @theladybiers @lexeeehhh @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ @autumnrose40 @donutloverxo​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @jessaywahh-blog​@smediumsmeatbae @before-we-get-started​ @lizette50 @littlegasps @rageshots @what-is-your-backupplan-today @clairebubbles @patzammit @sweet--catrastophe @pandaxnienke @redhairedfeistynerd @hails270105 @syms-things-5 @chezdricks @denisemarieangelina @christ0pher-evans @supersquirrel1996

[panic-at-the-fiction]

1973 pt1

Summary:(y/n) life hasn’t been the same since the school closed down and neither has her father. But there seems to be a sign of hope of the man he used to be returning with this new mission.

Warnings: I’m not doing this word for word with the movie ok. You’ve seen the movie you know how it goes.

a/n: I’ll probably post on Wednesday. I’m actually really excited about this one. I got so excited I said can’t wait to see what happens next and then it hit me I have to write it and I got sad cause I don’t know. @whyiswhatahow

When I was a little girl, my father liked to tell me stories. Stories about a group of young people who weren’t quite human. They were the next step in evolution, the government called them mutants. My father wanted peace between humans and mutants, he knew that mutants would still need to stand together. It’s why he created his school for gifted youngsters. It’s why he started the X-men. But that was years ago, things are different now. He’s not who he once was, none of us are.

Que the super cool X-men music with an animated opening of DNA and big X.

I had been lying in bed all afternoon trying to get some rest. The feelings were just too overwhelming for me to sleep anymore. Recently it has been getting worse. The dreams, the sounds of hearts beating and crying mothers mourning their children, everyone else’s feelings. Even when I was awake, I could still feel most of it, but it only got worse in my dreams.

My father drowns his out with Hank's newest drug, I’ve seen how he’s hooked on it, and I’m not going down that road, not ever. I’m not like him, though he was always stronger than me.

My father, Charles Xavier, was the strongest man I knew and this world still broke him down eventually. After the teachers were drafted it was tough, we were understaffed and the eldest students like me had resorted to teaching the younger ones. But when the students started to be drafted as well, his spirits began to fade. He didn’t resort to drowning out the voices till the first call came in saying some of them wouldn’t be returning home from Vietnam.

I can’t hear the voices like he does, though, I feel them. I would give anything to just hear the sad thoughts of people instead of feeling their pain. But you can’t choose your mutation. I just wish I could get some peaceful sleep for once.

I decided to give up for the day, I would just waste it in bed wallowing. It’s not like dear old dad will be doing anything else today, either. I could at least go see what Hank’s getting up to. He’s probably just in his lab. I ultimately get up and start walking down the hallway to the front of the house. Doing my best to avoid my dad's room, I take the long way, using the stairs on the far side of the house. Just as I’m reaching the bottom floor I hear a loud growl and some clattering noises and I take off running towards it.

As I make it through the doors, I walk into see Hank in full blue hanging from the ceiling over some scruffy guy laying on the table. “What the hell is this, Hank?” I shout.

Just as I’m about to ask more questions when Charles walks in. “Get off the bloody chandelier, Hank.” He walked over to the table on the side to pour a drink. I could feel both my anger against him grow, Hank’s embarrassment, dad's bitter loneliness and this new fellow's shock.

“Professor, you're walking?” Said the scruffy man. He felt surprised, and he acted as if he knew my dad.

“Do you know this man?” I ask my dad. He just ignores me.

“Well aren’t you a perceptive one. I haven’t been a professor in a long time. Now please leave. Hank the door!” Charles said, clenching the glass he held tight too. He quickly left the room, not wanting to discuss matters further.

“I’m afraid I can’t leave yet. I was sent here for you.”

“We’ll go and tell whoever sent you I’m busy.” He sat down on the stairs with his drink.

“I can’t exactly do that, cause you sent me 50 years from now in the future.”

He laughed, “I doubt that.”

“You would know I’m telling the truth if you had your powers.”

“How do you know he doesn’t have his powers?” I asked the stranger. He gave me a curious stare, he seemed confused by my presence.

“You’ve piqued my interest. Say I believed you. What exactly are you here for?”

“It’s mystique.”

“Wait, what does Raven have to do with any of this?” Hank said, putting his glasses back on.

“In three days she’s going to kill Dr Trask in Paris to stop him from creating these weapons but by doing so she gives the world leaders a cause to fund his works and in fifty years they’re will be a war between these weapons, sentinels and mutants. There’s barely any of us left.”

I was shocked, horrified actually. Or maybe it was Hank who was feeling this, or maybe it was my dad. I can’t tell. Though I definitely feel something on my own. He’s description of these weapons seems so clear in my head. Like I’ve seen them before.

“Even if I did help you, Raven doesn’t listen to me anymore. Her heart and soul belong to someone else now.”

“That’s why we will need magneto too.”

“Hell no!” Charles stood up and began to walk away.

“Professor.”

“He’s a murder.” My dad laughed, “You know, I do remember you now that I think of it. Eric and I came to you years ago. I’m going to say to you what you said to us then. Fuck off!” The professor took his drink and walked back to his room, leaving me and Hank with this stranger.

“You came to the wrong house. There isn’t a professor here anymore.” I said, silently hoping my dad could still hear me.

“I’ll see if I can persuade him to help.” Hank said, chasing after my dad.

“What happened to him?”

“Hank made a serum, like the one he used for himself, but to give him his legs back instead. He just takes too much, that’s all.”

“So who the hell are you kid?”

I rolled my eyes, “(y/n) Xavier, what used to be the professor, is my dad.” I said sitting on the steps.

“Wait? (y/n). I never even knew you were related to the professor. I didn’t even know he had kids.”

“Kid. He only has one. He dated my mom for a few weeks during grad school, and a few years later he got a kid dropped off on his front porch.”

“It’s just when we met, you were so much older. By then you had changed your last name, I guess. I don’t even recognize you.” He sat down next to me on the stairs. He felt strangely happy, with a small sense of pride. The way a big brother might feel when the youngest graduates.

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Names Logan.” He said, holding his hand out for me to shake.

“I say it’s nice to meet you, but I’m not quite sure if it is yet.” He almost laughed.

“So you were always a smart talker.”

“What year did you say you were from exactly?”

“2023, but I’ve known you for decades.”

“I would have been almost 67. When did we meet?” I was growing more and more curious about the future, though I wasn’t sure I believed him.

“I don’t think I should be telling you about your own future like this, kid. Could be dangerous.”

“You being here is dangerous.”

“You’re not wrong, but we didn’t really have a choice.”

I was going to ask him what they did to send him back, but Hank finally came back with my dad reluctantly behind him. “Charles agreed to help. We both have.”

“Guess that means we’re going to pay uncle Eric a visit?” I say trying to lighten the mood.

“Do you even know where he is?” Hank asked Logan.

“Yes.”

“But do you know why he’s there?” Logan's face drew a blank for a moment, and Charles laughed. “He didn’t tell you? You know what happened to JFK?”

“You're not saying that was him?”

“How else do you explain the bullet curving through the air like that?” Hank said.

“Eric always did have a way with guns.” I always got a certain sadness from my father when he said Eric’s name. It was always unique and different from the rest of his pain.

“How do you plan to get him out?”

“I know a guy,” Logan gave me a knowing smile like this was an inside joke. “Of course when I met him he was much older, but he should be a young man by now.”

“How do we find this guy?” I asked.

“I guess cerebra is out of the question?” Hank looked at Charles, but turned away when he got a spiteful look. “We have a phone book.”

[brain-deadx0]

Virgil's Betrayal

Part 3 of New Big Brother

Previous Next

Summary: Remy meets Patton’s brother and kids and proceeds to get murdered. 

Warnings: Food mention, play fighting including nerf guns, manipulation but for good stuff, let me know

Remy was not nervous. 

 When dad guy had asked him a few days ago if he would be ok with going to the man’s brother’s house for lunch that weekend, Remy had said, “Sure.” He’d agreed to it. 

 So no. Remy wasn’t nervous. Even as they pulled up to the frankly huge house in a neighborhood of huge houses. 

 Definitely not nervous. 

 Virgil was practically vibrating in his seat. He’d been telling Remy all about his uncle and cousins, and what games they could play together the entire drive. 

 “Everybody ready?” Dad guy asked as he turned the car off. 

 “Yep!” Virgil told him as he quickly unbuckled himself. 

 Dad guy sent one of his questioning looks to Remy via the rear view mirror. Remy ignored it and climbed out of the car to follow Virgil who had already ran for the front door. 

 Dad guy joined them at the door as Virgil rang the bell. Remy wasn’t trying to hide behind them. They just ended up closer to the door. There was the sound of a lock being turned before someone inside the house hollered for them to come in. 

 As soon as they walked through the door there was the sound of footsteps running down the stairs. 

"Virgil! Uncle Patton!” A pair of voices yelled before two young boys were launching themselves off the stairs towards them. Dad guy yelped in alarm as he attempted to… catch them? 

 “Jan, your boys are going to give me a heart attack one of these days!” The man yelled through his subdued laughter from his place on the ground. 

 “And I’ll help them get rid of the body.” The voice from before called. A moment later a short man appeared from what Remy assumed was the kitchen. He looked a lot like dad guy save for the fact he was definitely older than the man. And the mild scarring on the left side of his face. 

 “Alright boys, that’s enough abunculicide.” The man told the kids who were laughing in dad guy’s arms. 

 “Aw…” The pair said before releasing him. 

 Dad guy smiled before standing up and ruffling their hair causing one grin and the other to balk and try to fix it. 

 “You must be Remy.” The man said, “My name’s Janus, it’s nice to finally meet you.” 

 “Nice to meet you, sir.” Remy told him. 

 Mr. Janus smiled, “You can call me Janus.” 

 Yeah that was not happening. 

 “The two terrors who ambushed you all are my sons Roman and Remus.” 

 “I’m Roman.” “And I’m Remus.” The two introduced with matching bows, “And together we’re-!” They spun in opposite directions before striking poses back to back, “-the creativitwins!”

 Remy couldn’t help but laugh slightly at the theatrics as dad guy clapped excitedly, “Oh that was so cute!” Dad guy told them. 

“No it wasn’t!” The pair told him pointedly, “It was cool.” Roman told him. 

 “Yeah!” Remus agreed. 

 “Well whatever it was, I loved it.” Dad guy told them. 

 “Lunch will be ready in about a half hour,” Mr. Janus told them, “So you can all make yourselves at home.” 

 “Can we go outside?” Remus asked. 

 “Yes, but-” before the man could finish both boys took off running. 

 “Come on Virge!” One of them called. 

 The next thing Remy knew he was being grabbed by the hand and pulled towards the back yard, “Come on Remy!” Virgil told him. 

 Guess he was going outside. 

 ~ 

 “-Don’t get too dirty.” Janus finished lamely as all the minors fled to the backyard, “Well I tried.” 

 Patton chuckled, “Probably should’ve started with that part.” 

 “How many sons did you want back alive?” He asked. 

 Patton laughed, “Come on, I’ll help make lunch. 

 ~ 

 Remy watched the younger kids from his seat on the porch steps. Roman suggested playing super hero’s and was met with agreements until he suggested Virgil be the villain. Which apparently happened a lot. 

 “Come on, Virgil.” Roman whined, “We need a bad guy!” 

 “But I always lose when I play the bad guy.” Virgil told them, “Why can’t you be the bad guy and we fight you?” 

 “Because me and Re are the heroes.” Roman said as if it were obvious. 

 “We could be bad guys.” Remus told him, “The bad guys are cooler anyway.” 

 “Noooo.” Roman told him, “We’re the creativitwins! We’re supposed to be the good guys!” 

 “But we’re always the good guys!” Remus replied. 

 “Remy!” Virgil called, “Tell them we wanna be the heroes!” 

 “How about…” 

 ~ 

 Patton jumped when the mostly silent backyard suddenly erupted in gleeful screams. 

 “Welcome to the world of raising multiple children.” Janus told him. 

 Patton smacked his arm lightly before going to peek at the yard. The three younger boys were running around the yard at top speed as Remy made a grab for whoever got closest to him. Patton smiled as Roman yelled for a retreat before all three kids ran for the treehouse. Remy stalked after them, giving the twins enough time to make it to safety, but grabbed Virgil before he could climb high enough. 

 Virgil squealed as he was pulled away from the tree and yelled for help through his laughter. 

 Patton cooed at the sight before reluctantly going back to the kitchen. 

 ~ 

 Virgil laughed wildly even as Remy used him as a partially successful human shield. If he had known there were fully loaded nerf guns, Remy would’ve made it harder for them to get to the treehouse. 

 “Don’t worry Virge!” One of them yelled, “We’ll rescue you!” 

 “Dead or alive!” The other added. 

 Remy laughed, “It’s not a rescue if you kill him!” He told them as they continued to shoot.  

 “Silence feind!” The first one told him before firing more foam bullets at them. 

"Any ideas?” Remy asked Virgil quietly. 

 “I think there’s more guns on the porch?” Virgil whispered back. 

“Perfect.” Remy grinned, “Muwahaha! You can’t defeat me!” He told the pair in the treehouse before running towards the porch with Virgil. 

 Once there he put Virgil down and the kid directed him to where the extra nerf guns were. The ones in the hidden storage bin were much smaller than the ones the twins had. 

 “Virgil! You’re not supposed to help the bad guy!” 

 “Ha ha! I put him under mind control!” Remy told them, “Now I have a minion.” 

 Virgil snickered before rushing to grab a gun of his own.

 “You won’t get away with this, villain!” 

 “Let him go or face our wrath!” 

 “Never!” Remy called back, “Pick up as many bullets as you can, but don’t shoot too much, ok?” He whispered to Virgil, “When they run out we can go after them, cool?”

“Yeah!” Virgil whispered excitedly. 

 It took longer than Remy thought it would for the rain of foam to slow to a stop. “It’s over, heroes. Surrender peacefully and I might spare you.” He told them. 

 He could hear hushed laugher from the treehouse before one of the boys replied, “Okaay~ just a minuute~” 

 “Uh-oh.” Virgil said beside him. 

 “Uh-oh?” 

 He didn’t have to wait long to figure out what the kids were up to because a second later he was being pelted with various balls, ranging from ping pong to tennis. Before he even had a chance to recover, one of the twins was suddenly right next to him and whacking him with a foam sword. 

“What the- hey!” He laughed before trying to fend off the nine-year-old. While he was distracted, the other one had made their way to the ground as well and ambushed him from behind. “Oh shhh-!” He cut himself off as he fell. 

 The second kid had hit the back of his knees with a foam club. This was definitely not a fair fight. 

 While the twins were busy beating him to death he suddenly felt the familiar sensation of foam bullets. 

 “Wha-? Virgil! I thought you were on my side?” He asked incredulously, causing Virgil to laugh, “Betrayed by my own brainwashed minion!” 

The kid just giggled harder, “I was just pretending to be mind controlled!” He told him as he continued to fire the toy gun. 

 The kids screamed in delight as they assaulted him with their various weapons. Remy was ready to admit defeat and call them off when a voice interrupted. 

 “Alright, boys, that’s enough.” Dad guy said. 

‘Oh shit.’

 ~

 Patton’s heart broke a little as the joy on Remy’s face quickly melted away to something much more subdued. He sent him what he hoped was a reassuring smile but it didn’t seem to help any. “Lunch is ready.” He told them. 

 “Okay.” the younger kids chorused before dropping their weapons and racing inside. 

 “Are you alright?” Patton asked, “They might be foam but they can still hurt when the boys get excited.” 

 “I’m fine.” Remy said casually as he stood up and brushed himself off. 

 “Alright then.” He smiled, “Then let’s go eat some pizza bread.”

 ~

 "Pizza bread" as it turned out, was bread with cheese and pepperoni inside. So, more sophisticated than the rolled up pizza slice Remy had pictured. Apparently you were supposed to dip it in some fancy tomato sauce which is why Remy was surprised when Mr. Janus had them all move to the living room to eat. 

 "Dad, can we watch Avatar?" Roman asked. 

 "No, let's watch dirty jobs!" Remus told him. 

 "How about mythbusters?" Roman countered. 

 "Ah, ah," Mr. Janus told them, "what's the rule for guests?" 

 "Virgil," They chorused, "wanna watch-" "Avatar?" "Dirty jobs?"

 "Um… what about Most Extreme...?" Virgil tried. 

 "Yes!" 

 "No!" 

 "Two to one, we win!" Remus cheered. 

 "Boys." Mr. Janus told them, "We have more than one guest, remember?" 

 "Remy, say no!" Roman told him, "Then we pick a different show."  

 "I don't really have an opinion." Remy told him, "What's "Most Extreme"?" 

 "They take all the cool stuff from animals like eyes and teeth and show what it would look like if humans had the same ability." Remus told him, "It's neat!" 

 "Its freaky is what it is." Roman told him. 

 "That's what makes it cool!" 

 "I'm gonna pass on the vote." Remy told them. 

 "He's impartial so we win! The Most Extreme it is!" Remus turned to high five Virgil. 

 Roman seemed a bit miffed at losing the vote, but it wasn't long before he was staring at the screen with as much interest as the other two. And honestly? Remy got it. The show was actually pretty cool. 

 ~ 

 Patton smiled as Remy seemed to settle in again and get pulled into the show. He waited until the episode ended and everyone was done eating before moving to collect the empty plates. Unfortunately, the action quickly caught the attention of the teen. 

 "Don’t worry, I got it." Patton assured as Remy moved to start cleaning up as well. 

 "It's ok," Remy told him, as he paused somewhat hesitantly, "I don't mind." 

 Patton smiled, "I appreciate it, but you don't have to. Janus and I are gonna clean up and then we'll probably be heading home." 

 "Oh," Janus said suddenly, "while I'm thinking about it, we packed up some of our old clothes to donate. You guys can look through them for some play clothes." He told him. 

 "Sure." Patton told him. 

 "I'll be right back to help clean up." Janus said before leaving the room. 

 ~

 Remy wasn't sure why he was suddenly on edge. All he knew was something felt off and he didn't like it. 

 Mr. Janus came back a minute later with three large bags. "Ok," he said as he set them down, "look through and take anything." He told them before pointing to the twins, "No dress up this time." He told them. 

"Why not?" Roman asked. 

 "Because yesterday we had to cut your brother out of a shirt you both knew was too small." 

 "I was a mutant giant what was I supposed to wear?" Remus asked indignantly. 

 Remy bit back a smile. 

 "Preferably something big enough to get yourself out of." Mr. Janus told him. 

 "Boring~" Remus drawled. 

 Mr. Janus shook his head fondly, "No dress up." He told them again before leaving to help dad guy. 

 The second he was gone the twins shared a look before quickly opening the bags and digging through them. 

 Remy laughed slightly, "Didn't he just say "no dress up"?" 

 "He said no dress up for us," Roman corrected, "but nothing about us dressing up you or Virgil." 

 "And so long as he doesn't catch us too quickly we can do it too!" Remus grinned. 

 Remy quickly turned down any attempts to get him to play dress up, and delegated himself to watching as the older boys coerced Virgil into trying on just about every piece of clothing. They had quickly moved on from the kids clothes that Virgil could feasibly fit in, or at least grow into soonish, to going through Mr. Janus’s old clothes just to wear them. 

 Virgil was digging through the bag when he suddenly gasped, "Remy!" He said excitedly before pulling something out of the bag and bouncing over, "Look!" He beamed as he held up an old leather jacket, "It's like from the store!" 

 "Uh, yeah, kinda." Remy admitted. 

 "I don't remember that one." Roman told them, "It doesn't look like Dad or Noni's." 

 "Dad!" Remus called.

 "What happened?" Mr. Janus answered as he came around the corner before huffing a small laugh, "I see you ignored the dress up rule." 

 Remus ignored the last part, "Whose jacket is this?" He asked; pointing to the coat Virgil was holding. 

 Mr. Janus glanced at the jacket Virgil was holding, "That's my old one." He told them, "I haven't worn it since… probably since I was about twenty or so. That's when Noni gave me my other one." 

 "How long ago was that?" Virgil asked. 

 Mr. Janus laughed, "Long enough to know I don't need it, let's stick with that." 

"That's Dad's way of saying he's old." Remus whispered causing Virgil to giggle. 

 "I heard that." Mr. Janus told them with an amused eyebrow raise, causing the kids to laugh. Mr. Janus shook his head, "Anyway, like I said you're welcome to anything in the bags." He said with a glance to Remy, "Try not to smother your cousin in the clothes." He told them offhandedly as he went back to the kitchen. 

 Something was definitely going on. 

 "Try it on!" Virgil told Remy as he practically shoved the jacket at him. 

 "I don't know, kid." Remy told him. This whole thing felt like way too much of a coincidence. He wasn't sure how to feel about it. This had to be a set up, right? 

 "Why not?" Virgil asked. 

 "I already have a coat, remember?" 

 "Yeah but this one doesn't cost money." Virgil told him. Dammit. "And at the store you said these were cool." 

Stop making good points.

 "Oh! It could be part of your villain outfit!" Roman exclaimed, "All super villains need to look cool." 

 "Otherwise they're just regular villains!" Remus added. 

 "What's the difference?" 

"Presentation!" All three told him. 

 Ok, well he definitely ran into something there.

 "Pleeeease, Remy?" Virgil asked with wide eyes. 

... Fucking puppy dog eyes.

 Remy sighed, "Ok, fine." 

 ~

Patton peaked around the corner and smiled. For once he was glad Virgil had learned to weaponize his puppy eyes. 

 ~

 Remy made sure that when dad guy and Mr. Janus came back that he was not wearing the jacket. Just in case. 

 Thankfully neither mentioned it as they packed up the clothes Virgil. Or as they resorted the rest the kids had used for dress up. They all said their goodbyes, with Mr. Janus saying he hoped to see them again soon, and the twins telling Remy they wouldn't be going so easy on him next time. 

 If dad guy seemed extra smiley on the way home, it was none of Remy's business. 

 Remy was not smiling to himself either. 

 …Whatever.

 ~~~~~notes~~~~~

 For anyone who was wondering, Virgil 100% knows what he's doing when it comes to puppy dog eyes. He was raised by Patton Can't-say-no-to-cute Sanders. And yes. He does use this for evil. 

[raysofcrosby]

28 & 42 with matty please 🥺

28. “how drunk was i?” + 42. “stop being so cute” w/ matty tkachuk

“Could you please drive slower,” you groaned, pressing your head against the cold window. “Or at least try and not hit curbs. It’s a miracle the state of Missouri granted you a drivers license.”

“It’s not my fault you decided to do a shots contest with Sam,” Matt laughed, reaching out the bottle of pedialyte to you and nudging you with the end of it.

“I was defending your honor,” you mumbled, grabbing the bottle from him and opening it, closing your eyes as you took a sip.

“My honor didn’t need defending, thank you. Besides, that’s his big party trick.” Matt took the bottle back from you and put it down in the cup holder. “Go after the newbie, challenge whoever they came with to a shots contest, add in a wager and boom, hook line and sinker. Newbie gets wasted and Sam gets richer.”

“You could’ve warned me,” you sighed, shutting your eyes tight to hopefully relieve the slight headache.

“I did and totally got shit for it by the way because it’s a huge party foul,” he laughed. “But you were already buzzed from pre-gaming and brushed me off. ‘Don’t worry, Matty. I’ve got this,’ I believe is what you said.”

“Well now I don’t want to go to this team barbecue,” you said, sitting up and turning towards him with a pout on your face. “I probably made a fool of myself and they all think that I’m stupid or easy or something.”

“Nah,” he replied, shaking his head as he came to a stop outside of a beautiful two-story craftsman style home. “It’s his thing, think of it as an initiation of sorts. Besides, no one else takes it up because they know he holds his alcohol like a camel holds water. Everyone’s been in your shoes before.”

“Whatever you say,” you sighed, taking off your seatbelt and getting out of the car. “At least I didn’t make a fool of myself then.”

“Well,” he sang, nodding his head from side to side. “I wouldn’t say that you didn’t necessarily...do that.”

You stared at him, holding onto the plate of cookies the two of you made earlier this morning as he walked beside you. “What do you mean, necessarily?”

“Come on, we’re running late.” He said, nudging your lower back as the two of you walked towards the front door of the Giordano’s home.

“You tell me right now Matthew Tkachuk,” you demanded, standing on the front porch as he rang the doorbell. “Tell me right now or I’ll call–”

“Matt, Y/N,” Gio smiled, looking relaxed in board shorts and a tank top. “Come on in, everyone’s out back.”

“Thanks, man.” Matt smiled, greeting Gio with a broshake before leading you through the house, raising an eyebrow at you as he smirked, knowing damn well he got out of your threat.

You’d known Matt and his family since forever, really. They moved across the street when Keith had gotten traded to the St. Louis Blues and your Mom was thrilled that there were two kids your age  moving right across the street, practically giving you instant friends. Matt was a year older than you, Brady a year younger which was perfect. And an instant friendship is what it was. You grew close with the two Tkachuk brothers and Taryn too once she came along.

Family summer barbecues, invites to the Tkachuk’s lake house, carpooling throughout elementary school, movie nights on the weekends when there weren’t hockey games, watching Keith play from the family box, teaming up with Brady against Matt in any pick-up game and when Matt went to Charminade instead of the public middle school like you did, he was at the receiving end of the chirping lessons and notes you’d picked up from Brady and Keith.

It sucked when he decided to go off and join the USHL sophomore year of high school, ending up all the way in Michigan at the USNTDP for the remainder of your high school careers, but that just made the summers all that better. The two of you would spend the three months catching up on the others’ lives– friendships, drama, hockey, relationships– and then he’d go off again for another nine months and come back and you’d do it all again. And that never changed once he went off to the OHL. Besides his family, you were the first person he told about choosing to go for the draft and were even invited alongside the Tkachuk clan, sitting beside Brady when you heard his name called as the sixth overall pick. And sitting next to Matthew two years later when Brady got drafted fourth overall.

He went off to Calgary and you went to Mizzou, the two of you staying in touch over text messages, facetime calls, an occasional email when he felt like being a pest cause you didn’t respond to his text right away. And when the summer rolled around, you both returned back to your hometown and picked up right where you left off, like nothing had changed and nothing skipped a beat.

Until this past summer, when something did change.

••••

A late night in the Tkachuk’s driveway on Matt and Brady’s last night before they’d go back off to their respective training camps. Your two roommates from college had decided to fly in early from their respective states so the three of you could all arrive at school together that weekend. Matt and Brady had invited some of their high school friends over too, the group just sitting around a portable fire pit as you all mingled and laughed, sipping on the mixed drinks you guys had been making all night.

Which is exactly what led the group of twenty somethings to play what started out as a game of never have I ever but eventually turned into most likely to. By the time you all were in at least a couple of rounds, the mood was light and everyone was laughing.

“Most likely to…” Callie, your roommate, smiled as she looked around the circle. “Get a ‘special’ piercing.”

“Special piercing?” Brady asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Like on your dick, dude,” Max, one of Matt’s friends chimed in, looking at Callie. “Or for girls, nipple piercings or…” his eyes dwindled down, the sexual tension between them had been high all night and no one could stand it.

“God, please just get a room and thump it out already,” Tori, your other roommate replied, rolling her eyes as she pointed at Callie. “My votes for her.”

“Same,” you smiled, pointing at Callie.

“You guys are cheaters! You were there with me!” She groaned, shaking her head as the four boys followed suit and pointed at her, making her the one who had to drink.

“Shouldn’t have asked such a dumb question then.” You smiled, shrugging your shoulders.

“Fine, Tori?” She leaned over to tori and whispered, the two of them looking at you with smiles.

“Okay, most likely to..” Tori’s gaze settled on you as she raised her cup. “Fall in love with their best friend?”

Immediately, you felt your cheats get hot as you watched the two of them point at you. It only got worse when you saw both Max and Trevor pointing at Matt, who looked just as embarrassed.

Brady laughed, resting his cup between his legs as he used both hands to point at the two of you. “I love this game.”

“Oh fuck off, all of you,” You said, flipping them off as you and Matt both took sips of your drinks, not even daring to look at the other.

“No, no, I think I’d love to explore this one,” Trevor smiled, nodding at Matt. “Clearly since both friend groups and Brady voted for the both of you, there’s gotta be something there.”

“Or you’re all just a bunch of drunk assholes,” Matt replied, shaking his head. “Just because I’m a guy and she’s a girl, doesn’t mean we can’t be platonic best friends.”

“There’s nothing platonic about the sex eyes you guys give each other when the other isn’t looking, Matt.” Max laughed, patting his shoulder.

“I suggest a new game,” Tori smiled, raising her hand. “Seven minutes in heaven and the first two to go are Matt,” she pointed at Matt and then turned to you. “And Y/N. All in favor?”

Everyone raised their hands and you wanted to sink into your chair and disappear. “Maybe it’ll eas the sexual tension that’s been building since 9th grade.” Brady laughed, shoving Matt out of his chair.

“This is stupid,” you said, shaking your head as Trevor got up behind you and nudged you out of your chair, Tori grabbing both yours and Matt’s hands and dragging you over to the garage. “Come on–”

“Inside, seven minutes,” She smiled, nodding at Matt to enter the garage code.

He rolled his eyes and did as she said, the door slowly opening to reveal Matt’s old dodge sedan he got for his 16th birthday. “Let me guess, lights on so you guys can creep in through the windows and get off?”

“Oh no, lights off,” Tori smiled, nudging you both into the garage. “It’s not our business what the two of you get up to. But trust me, I’ve seen Y/N come back from plenty of make-out sessions and shes easy to read, so I’ll know if the two of you are lying.”

She pressed the code Matt had done and waved as the door closed between you, leaving you and Matt in the dark. He sighed and pulled out his phone, turning of the flashlight as you stood there. “We don’t have to do this, Y/N.”

“She wasn’t lying when she said she’ll know, Matt.” You sighed, shaking your head. “She’s like a freaking psychic or something I don’t know.”

He laughed, nudging you to the car. “Well, we can at least sit in the car instead of standing by the door. Cobwebs, you know?”

You agreed and the two of you walked towards his car, Matt opening the door and getting inside. “The fact that you don’t lock your car in the garage is concerning,” you laughed, closing the door behind you as he did the same.

“It’s a safe neighborhood.” He replied, shrugging. “So...that was interesting...the game.”

“Or our friends are assholes,” you laughed.

“That too.”

It’s not like you’d never wanted to kiss him before, because you had. For the entirety of junior high, you’d dreamt of Matt being your first kiss, but that went to Trevor during a game of truth or dare at his own 13th birthday party. Besides that crushing defeat, Matt never showed any interest in you like that. You never caught his gaze lingering on yours or him taking a double look at you when you were even in your hottest bathing suit at the lake. As much as you hated it, to him it was like you were one of the guys. Which is why it was even more embarrassing that Trevor and Max had claimed Matt was most likely to fall in love with his best friend.

Because that was you and you were more than sure he still pictured you in your tomboy phase.

“I’m never going to hear the end of this,” you sighed, resting your head back. “They’ll bring it up at every party, watch.”

“Why? Because we didn’t wildly make out in the garage?” He laughed, looking over at you only to see that you weren’t laughing. “Oh shit, you’re serious.”

“Dead serious.” You replied, shrugging your shoulders. “Oh well it’s senior year, I can take it.”

“What if you don’t have to?” He asked, shrugging. “I’ll kiss you if it means you won’t get tormented.”

“Wow, maybe don’t act like kissing me is such an inconvenience, Matty,” you laughed, rolling your eyes.

“You’re dramatic.”

“You’re mean.”

“How am I mean?” He laughed, leaning onto the center console.

“Because you made it sound like kissing me was a chore!” You huffed, rolling your eyes again. “Which, by the way it isn’t because I am a great–”

His mouth was on yours before you could finish your sentence. The moment you melted into the kiss, his hand came up and cupped the side of your face as you parted your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to brush against yours. And before you could even get your body to move over the center console, there was a knock on the garage door.

••••

You’d kissed quite a few people in your time at college and even before. Boys, girls, the few short term boyfriends you had– but nothing ever made your stomach twist into the knots that kissing Matt did. And since then, you hadn’t been able to get it out of your head...but your friendship stayed the same.

Spring Break, Matt asked if you wanted to come up and stay with him since Calgary weren’t on the road for the week you’d be there and you took him up on it. Finally excited to meet his teammates and friends he’d spent so much time telling you about and talking about. Part of you came under false pretenses, though. Sure, you wanted to spend time with Matt, but you also wanted to talk to him and ask him about that kiss...something you could never manage to do over the phone. But four days here and you hadn’t mustered up the courage to do so.

Which meant you only had three days left to do it or else you’d have to wait until the summer when he came home– which was pure torture.

“Well if it isn’t my girlfriend!” Sam smiled, standing at the edge of the pool with Jacob next to him.

“I’m sorry, what?” You laughed, placing the cookies down onto the food table as Matt walked beside you. “Please tell me he’s kidding.”

“I told you that you didn’t not totally act a fool,” Matt replied, rolling his eyes.

You looked at Sam and stomped over, poking his chest. “I want my $10 back. I know your party trick.”

“Sorry, babe.” Sam smiled, shrugging his shoulders. “A bets a bet. Which speaking of,” he looked over your shoulder where Matt was standing and then back at you. “We need to talk about last night.”

You looked towards Jacob, frowning. “Are you sure I’m not dating you instead?”

Jacob laughed. “Unfortunately, not.”

Sam rolled his eyes and held your hand, walking you away towards the Giordano’s back deck. “Okay, in all seriousness...are we playing it up today or not?”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you shook your head. “Playing what up?”

He exhaled, shaking his head. “We were going to fake it today, being into each other to make Matt jealous so he’ll make a move.”

“I’m sorry, what?” You blinked at him in shock before laughing. “How drunk was I?”

“Drunk enough to where you told me how you’ve been in love with Matt since junior high and that the two of you kissed this summer and it was,” he cleared his throat, smiling at you. “The best damn kiss of my entire life, I swear it made me we–’”

You gasped, smacking his shoulder. “Stop, no I didn’t.”

“But you did, babe. So, I agreed to make Matt jealous, which shouldn’t be too hard because he doesn’t seem all that pleased that we’re standing over here talking.”

Sure enough, you looked over your shoulder to see Matt frowning as he talked to Jacob, his eyes moving away from you and Sam. You looked back at Sam, crossing your arms. “You don’t think I’m overthinking it?”

“Please, do you know how excited we all were when he told us you were spending the week with him?” Sam laughed, taking a sip from his cup. “Everyone knows he’s practically in love with you and we’ve all been waiting for him to make a move. So if this is what does it, I’m game.”

“Okay, let’s do it.” You smiled, shaking his hand.

You and Sam spent the better half of the day together, laughing and getting to know each other. He was a pretty nice guy and you could understand why him and Matt were close. Matt stayed nearby the entire time and sometimes it was like he was eavesdropping on your conversations. Sam made sure to throw in some flirty banter during a fun game of volleyball in the pool and kanjam with Jacob and Elias.

But it wasn’t until you were playing with Gio’s daughter at one of the kids table where she was drawing you a picture. You were helping her pick out what glitter pens and markers to use when Matt came over, tapping you on the shoulder. “Can we talk?” He asked, looking at the pool.

You looked over to see Sam with Jacob, a smirk on his face as he sent you a knowing wink. You looked back at Matt and nodded. “Sure,” before turning back to Gio’s daughter and telling her you’d be back.

Matt walked ahead of you the entire time as he lead you towards where you and Sam had met up earlier, only this time he stopped around the side of the porch, leaning against it as he took a sip of his drink. “You can’t do that.”

“Do what?” You laughed, crossing your arms. “Sit with a little girl and help her draw a picture.”

“No, yes...ugh,” he groaned, leaning his head back. “Just...don’t do it, okay?”

You furrowed your brows, shaking your head. “I don’t understand, Matt.”

“You with kids!” He huffed, motioning back to the pool. “It’s cute and you’re cute and damn it, Y/N, stop being so cute! It’s giving me thoughts of you with kids and you having kids and you can’t have kids with Sam, okay?” 

“Is this about me and Sam?” You laughed, pointing towards the pool. “Because it was all a show, Matt. Sam and I aren’t dating and we’re not anything, it was just a joke.”

“Oh,” he paused, his cheeks turning red. “Okay, that’s good.”

“It is?”

“Yeah,” he placed his cup on the edge of the porch behind him and reached out, grabbing your waist and pulling you into him. “Cause then he won’t be mad if I do this.”

His hands moved up to cup your face before he pressed his mouth to yours, the scruff scratching against your chin as you pushed yourself further into him, wrapping your arms around his waist and letting your hands travel up his back. Before you could deepen the kiss, he pulled back and sighed. “I’ve been wanting to do that again ever since–”

“This summer,” you sighed, nodding your head. “Yeah, me too.”

You kissed him again, feeling him smile against your lips as his hands moved back and tangled themselves in your hair. Matt pulled back again, looking down beside you and raising his eyebrows. You looked down to see Gio’s daughter standing there, a smile on her face. “Sam told me to give this to you.”

She held up the piece of paper and once Matt took it, she ran off giggling. He looked at it and laughed, rolling his eyes before turning it around to face you. The glitter additions belonged to her, but the two kissing figures sitting in a tree...did not. Especially since Sam’s sloppy handwriting was tucked in the corner. The two of you looked back over at the pool to see Sam smiling at the art table, waving.

Matt rolled his eyes and looked back at you, brushing his thumb against your cheek. “Any way I can convince you to go on a date with me before you leave?”

“I think I can fit that into my schedule.”

[much-ado-about-exy]

familiar ghosts

whumptober day 1: “you have to let go”

ao3

Dick is… tired. Although he can’t exactly remember why. There’s this bone-deep, crushing exhaustion in his limbs that feels too heavy for a fifteen-year-old kid to bear - although, being fifteen also feels sort of wrong for some reason, which is weird. But old ladies at galas for Wayne Enterprises tell him that he’s got an old soul, sometimes, so maybe that’s what that’s all about. Maybe his very old soul is chafing under the awkwardness of adolescence just as much as the rest of him is.

He does his best to shake off whatever it is, anyway. Today’s a really cool day, because Wally, who’s been his best friend for years and his crush for at least a couple months, give or take, finally asked him out on a date, and they’re meeting in Central City this afternoon. School’s just let out and Dick is already halfway to the closest Zeta-Tube to Gotham Academy, the chatter of his recently-dismissed classmates quickly fading behind him. 

The coordinates for the Zeta-Tube down the street from Wally’s house are as familiar to Dick as his own cell phone number - he’s been visiting Wally this way since before Batman even trusted him to be using the Tubes on his own, which - he’d certainly gotten in trouble for, at the time, but it had never really stopped him. He punches in the command impatiently and even though the transport is near-instantaneous, he can’t shake the restlessness in his limbs that overtakes him as he’s spat out of the Tube and into Central.

He pauses for a minute inside the phone booth that disguises the Tube’s entrance, changing from his school uniform into normal-people civvies before ducking out and sauntering determinedly unsuspiciously - spiciously? Maybe not - out of the alley and down the street. 

Wally’s waiting for him on his front porch already, of course. With the time difference, he’s been out of school for over an hour by now. He looks nice - he always looks nice, of course - although his hair is brushed kind of weird - it strikes Dick that maybe Wally dressed up a little, for this date, and that maybe Dick should have, too? But it’s Wally, his best friend, he hadn’t thought- well, there’s really nothing to be done about it now. Jeans and a short-sleeved shirt will have to do. 

Dick bounces on the balls of his feet once, twice, three times, suddenly anxious, before Wally’s down the stairs and standing in front of him. 

“Hey, dude- er, is dude still okay?” Wally scratches the back of his neck, face slowly turning red. 

“Duh,” says Dick. “Dude, nothing has to change that we don’t want to.”

“Right, yeah,” says Wally, grinning. 

He reaches out for a fistbump, but Dick pulls him into a hug instead. He’s still shorter than Wally, although by less than he had been a year or two ago, and he can hear the speedster’s heart pounding through his shirt as Wally’s arms tentatively close around him. It’s Dick’s turn to blush, now, and he lets go just as quickly as he’d grabbed on to begin with. What had he done that for?

He hastily bumps his fist against Wally’s loosely curled hand and turns to lead the way down the street, hoping it’s not obvious how jittery he is. 

“Dick,” says Wally, easily catching up and grabbing Dick’s hand, “you’re about to start cartwheeling down the street, man. Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“I am!” Dick sounds defensive even to himself. He sighs. “I’m just… Nervous. We’ve been friends forever! But it feels like… Things are supposed to feel different, now? On a date? And I don’t know how to do that right. What’s supposed to change?”

“Dude, you said it yourself.” Wally stops walking, drags Dick to a stop by their joined hands, and turns to face him. “Nothing, that we don’t want to. We’re still best bros - we can just, like, hold hands and kiss and stuff if we want to, now.”

That last bit comes out in a rush, Wally’s gaze dropping to the pavement. Dick grins. He’s spent enough time daydreaming about kissing Wally the thought of it hardly phases him anymore, except for the electricity that it sends down his spine to know that he can now.

“Totally,” he says, tugging on Wally’s hand to get them moving again. “You ready for me to kick your ass at roller skating?”

“Roller skating isn’t a competitive sport, you dick! And you’ve never been before, either.” 

Dick totally kicks Wally’s ass at roller skating. 

But something feels… Off about it. It’s not like he’s ever been inside the Central City Rollarama before today, but he has the strangest sense of deja vu about it. And he’s… Honestly better at skating than he probably should be, even given his solid sense of balance and acrobatic inclinations. And so is Wally - Dick has an itchy phantom memory of Wally landing on his ass over and over again on skates, laughing through a fake scowl every time Dick hauled him to his feet, but he knows - he knows - that they’ve never done this together before. Right?

He’s very purposefully continuing to ignore the sinking wrongness he’s been feeling all day, though, because he’s having fun, dammit, and whatever vigilante-dread-sense weirdness is going on can wait. Wally clings to his shoulders and appears to be doing his level best to drag the both of them to the ground as Dick tows him in circles around the rink, and Dick’s own laughter has him doubled over enough of the time that he’s sure Wally’s going to succeed.

Miraculously, they survive two hours of this - with no major injuries, no less - before Wally’s stomach starts to growl. 

“Ice cream?” Dick asks, guiding them toward the rink’s exit so they can take off their skates. 

“Babe,” Wally says, looking at Dick like he hung every star in the sky, or completed a titration with a margin of error less than one percent, “you read my mind.” 

It’s a good thing they’re near the wall by now, because Wally calling him babe just about knocks Dick off his feet, and the only thing that saves him from a bruised tailbone is the railing he grabs onto before he tips too far backward. 

“Cool,” he says, breathless. Please, god, don’t let Wally have noticed that. “Let’s go, then!”

While they swap out their skates for shoes, for just a second, Wally flickers into someone older, someone tired, and so does Dick. And then they’re back to normal again. 

They hold hands on their way to the ice cream shop down the street. Wally’s hand is warm and a little sweaty, and just a bit too small- too small? No, it’s just right. Their hands fit together as if they were always meant to hold each other. It’s perfect, so perfect that Dick barely keeps from skipping with how happy it makes him. 

Wally orders a strawberry cone, and Dick gets chocolate in a cup, but they’ve hardly even walked away from the shop with their ice cream when Wally sneaks up behind Dick and steals several bites of his. 

Dick gasps dramatically, whirling around to face the thief, who has already swallowed his stolen goods and returned to his own ice cream. 

“Wally,” he whines, “you jerk!”

“It’s good manners to share.” Wally turns up his nose and looks down it at Dick, smile lines betraying his stern expression.

And, really, Dick doesn’t even like strawberry ice cream, but that sort of behavior simply can’t be allowed. So, it’s strictly on principle that he grabs onto Wally’s arm and hangs off of it, switching tactics to try to clamber onto Wally’s shoulders when Wally passes his cone to his unassailed arm.

“Let go, you goof,” says Wally, dancing backwards out of Dick’s reach and holding his ice cream aloft. 

“What?” Dick asks, laughing. “Can’t handle the heat?”

But Dick blinks and something’s changed - Wally’s face is serious now, where it had been creased with smile lines half a second before. It’s alarming enough that Dick whirls around in a circle, certain that some supervillain is trying to get the drop on him, but there’s nothing there. 

“Dick,” says Wally, voice grave, and suddenly he seems much less corporeal than he had just a few seconds ago, shimmering like hot air over pavement, “let go.” 

“What?” Dick’s voice is higher, younger, less confident than some part of him knows it should be. This is wrong, it’s all wrong, this isn’t how today goes, but he doesn’t want to think about what that means, not now, not when things are so good. “I let go, I’m all the way over here now. It’s fine, see?” 

“You have to let go,” Wally says. Electricity sparks across Wally’s chest and his very existence seems to flicker with it. Old and then young again. Here and then gone. “It’s time, dude.” 

“Time for what?” Dick asks. He’s panicking now, unable to calm himself down. He hates being confused like this, hates being left in the dark, hates knowing even more. But he gets no answer. 

Wally’s ice cream splatters to the sidewalk, stray droplets landing on Dick’s beat up sneakers, as the boy holding it vanishes without a trace. 

---

And Dick, nineteen, alone in the oppressive dark of his Blüdhaven apartment, wakes up. 

[sailtoafarawayland]

Entwined: Family Outtakes Ch. 2

Summary: An outtake that centers around some worries and family feels for Hook and Emma as they confront something we all must at some point, and the first appearance of Hope Swan-Jones in our little universe. 

Rating: All chapters range G - T (to be safe)

AO3 - FF

For @teamhook

Chapter Two: Falling Behind

Bleariness clouded Emma's vision as she woke, eyelids blinking away the late morning sunlight that streamed through the window and lit the soft whites and creams of their bedroom. She rolled the kinks from her neck and stretched, enjoying the crisp coolness of the sheets against her sleep warmed skin.

She must have overslept – the house was uncharacteristically quiet for a Sunday, and even though it had been years since Storybrooke had been disrupted by anything more villainous than teenage rebellion, something about the peacefulness pushed her into abrupt wakefulness. She lurched upright in bed, snatching her robe from the back of the door and wrapping it around herself as she stepped into the hallway.

The sound of something sizzling in the kitchen soothed any immediate worry, but still, she peeked into Hope's room to make sure everything looked normal – her comforter made and folded neatly below the pillows, as it always was when either of her dads oversaw the morning routine. It was definitely a far cry from when Emma was in charge and the entire wad of blankets and sheets was left knotted at the foot of the bed, a tangle-haired little girl hopping up and down on one foot while pulling on socks and trying to brush her teeth.

She let the smell of bacon lead her quickly down the stairs, the floors cool against her bare feet. Her eyes caught the clock and she frowned – it was earlier than she expected her husbands to be back and making breakfast on a Sunday. Usually they were somewhere between Granny's and the docks with Hope until at least nine.

“Hey,” she murmured, coming around the corner into the kitchen and seeing Hook bent over the stove, the last pieces of bacon dropping onto a paper towel lined plate from the fork in his hand, neither Killian nor Hope anywhere in sight. “Just us this morning?”

“Aye,” he smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes in the way that Emma loved.

“What's wrong?” she asked, concern rising up the back of her throat as she moved behind him, standing on her tiptoes and resting her chin on his shoulder, her arms encircling his waist – taking what reassurance she could from his solid presence.

“Everything's fine,” he insisted, his smile broadening as he flicked off the stove and dropped the fork beside the spread of bacon and eggs, turning in her arms and pressing a kiss to the top of her hair before meeting her eyes. “I just thought today I'd stay in and take care of breakfast. Killian and the wee lass should be back from 'pirate practice' soon enough.”

“Well, I'm glad you're here,” Emma teased, her hands traveling along his sides and sweeping upward to find the open edges of his button down, her fingers curling around the fabric and settling in his generous chest hair, silver and dusky against his tan skin, “and I'm not gonna lie, bacon that's already made is a bonus too.”

She pressed her toes against the cool floor and sought his lips, humming against them when she tasted the salty sweetness of maple bacon.

“Look's like someone was stealing pieces out of the pan again.”

“Pirate,” he reminded her, his brace and fingers pulling her more firmly against his chest as his mouth slanted hungrily over her own, their tongues rolling together with practiced ease – what Emma had intended to be a lazy, morning kiss stoking that familiar need in them both.  

He backed her insistently against the kitchen table, fingers tugging at the drawstring of her robe as she pushed into him, thoughts of breakfast fading as she considered the other things they could be doing on the table, but her movements stopped suddenly when the press of her hand against his shoulder was met with a hiss of pain. Hook stepped back from her, his own fingers moving to soothe the hurt she hadn't known was there.

“What happened? Are you hurt?”

“No,” he sighed, an edge to his voice that she didn't often hear. “Simply a stiff neck this morning, love.”

“I'm sorry,” she faltered, wanting to simply place her palm against his hurt and make it disappear, her intention clear enough in her face that he pulled back, taking her hand in his own and giving it a squeeze. “You should have woken me up. I can just – ”

“No, Emma, it's fine. I can't have you –” he paused, placing a breath of a kiss against her knuckles, looking for all the world as if he wanted to pull her into his arms again, but was afraid of what moving too swiftly might do. “Perhaps I'll just set the table and the strain will work itself out on its own.”

Letting her hand fall back to her side, she watched as he crossed the kitchen and opened the cabinet, pulling out plates for the four of them.

“Is that why you didn't go with Hope and Killian to the docks?”

It had become something of a longstanding tradition for Hope, Sunday morning with her dads. They would stop at Granny's hot cocoa and then take in the cool sea air, some mornings spent sharing stories and others spent sparring – something their daughter lovingly referred to as 'pirate practice', all three of them armed with blunt wooden swords.

It was the first time she'd ever seen Hook miss one.

The plates clinked against the table as he sat them down heavily.

“Aye,” he rumbled, fingers scratching behind his ear before running through his mop of hair, the black holding much more silver now than it had six years earlier when he'd tumbled into their lives and hearts.

“You know that Hope doesn't care how she spends time with you. You're her father. That's all that matters. She just wants to be with you, whether you're swinging a sword or not,” Emma pointed out softly, watching him carefully as his jaw tightened, insecurity warring with what he knew in his heart. It wouldn't be the first time that Emma had seen it – the way he'd started frowning at himself in the mirror, silently mourning the slow march of grey across his head and scruff. “It doesn't make a difference to any of us.”

“It makes a difference to me, Emma,” he ground out, turning abruptly and gripping the edge of the counter as he stared unseeingly out the window into the yard beyond.

“Jones,” she sighed, closing the distance between them and pressing her body to his back, feeling every tight cord of tension running through him, “Killian...”

She didn't call him Killian often – the three of them had decided early on that it was simply too confusing for everyone – that Jones would do, or Hook – but every now and then Killian would slip from her lips when he needed to be called back to them, when he needed reminding of who he was and who they both saw and loved.

He exhaled heavily, letting his worries fall from his lips as he relaxed into her.

“I know it doesn't make a difference to our little girl, Emma, but...this was the first morning that I woke and truly felt the age that I see in the mirror – and then I watched Hope bound down the porch with her sword already swinging, Killian at her heels and I just...I don't want to fall behind. I feel like I'm falling behind.”

“Hey,” she murmured, urging him around to face her, palm against his rough jaw, “that's not possible. We're family. We're in this together, and that won't ever change – whether you're running after her or not. One day she isn't going to want sword fights and treasure hunts, or someone to draw a smiley face on her pancakes with whipped cream – she's gonna want a shoulder to cry on when her heart gets broken...”

A low growl hummed in the back of his throat, his jaw twitching beneath Emma's fingers at the thought of anyone hurting his little girl.

“...or someone who can look over her shoulder when she paints and tell her just the right shades of purple and red to use for a sunset. We're all gonna get older and change, but that doesn't mean anyone is falling behind – we'll just be moving on to new adventures...together.”

“And what of us, Emma? Five years from now when there's only gray hair and wrinkles, when I've grown softer than I used to be, what will you and Killian think then?”

“None of that is going to change how much I want you, how much I love you...” her fingers found the place where his heart was beating solidly in his chest, pressing firmly and reminding him of just how they'd gotten here. “None of that is going to change how much Killian loves you.”

“Aye,” he murmured, fingers looping with hers as they both remembered the fear that day had carried – the day they put an end to his curse entirely – all of it washed away by hope and love and leaving them standing here. “You'll have to forgive the insecurities of an old pirate, darling.”

“Our pirate,” she chided. “Besides, did you want me any less after I'd added a few more stretch marks to my stomach and my hips got wider – when my boobs sagged a little more after years of nursing?”

“Your breasts, Emma, are still perfect works of art,” Hook promised, looking affronted at the mere notion that they were any less beautiful than they'd once been.

In fact, he loved them all the more for having watched her nurture and care for their child, feeding her through the long hours of the night and comforting her when the trials of the day were simply too much for a little one to stand. That type of love – a mother's love – it was something Alice had never known as a baby, and he worshiped his wife a little more each day for having given that gift to Hope. There wasn't a mark left on her body that he didn't cherish, that wasn't a reminder of the depth of her heart.

To him, she was a goddess.

“If you can still look at me and see beauty in all these stretch marks – then you can't doubt it's the same when we look at you – and some more gray hair and a rum belly won't change that, not ever.”

“Well, let's not allow things to deteriorate to that point, shall we?” Hook muttered, his cheeks reddening at the remembrance of Emma's story – of her meeting with aging Captain who no longer existed, a future that he'd thankfully avoided by following the Seer's advice and seeking out a small town called Storybrooke, a town that held not only the promised end of his curse, but the rest of his happiness for days to come.

“I'm just saying,” Emma whispered, her fingers dragging along his skin as she pressed the smile of her lips to his own, “it still wouldn't matter, Jones.”

He swallowed her surprised gasp as his hand slipped into the loosened folds of her robe, calloused palm glancing along the warmth of her skin before the sound of the door flying inward had them both pulling apart – the stillness of the house shattered by the return of their yet-to-be-tired-out daughter.

“Hope,” Emma sighed, tightening her robe and turning just in time to catch the tornado of long, dark locks and flailing limbs running headlong into her arms, barely leaning her head out of the way in time to keep from getting whacked with an errant wooden sword. “What have I said about not throwing the door open? You're gonna break it down one of these days.”

“And you know the rule about swords in the house, my love,” Hook reminded her, plucking the wooden toy from her hands and placing it on the counter. “Now, where's Dad? Did he make it home, or is he still outside bemoaning the loss you surely handed him?”

“Let's not be hasty – I wouldn't go so far as to call it a loss,” Killian insisted, stepping through the door and easing it closed behind him, his own wooden sword dropping into the umbrella stand near the entrance. “Our little lass put to use some very impressive evasive maneuvers – quite insistent on hurrying home this morning.”  

“Did she now?” Hook laughed, “and what could have been the cause of that?”  

“We missed you, Papa,” Hope explained, reaching out and squirming until Hook plucked her out of Emma's arms, jogging her into a seat on his hip. “And bacon.”

“Ah, now we get to the truth of the matter,” he murmured, placing a lingering kiss on their daughter's curls, nearly as dark as he and Killian's, though her face was the tiny, spitting image of Emma. “I suppose it's a good thing I made bacon then – because I missed you as well.”

“It was a quiet morning without you,” Killian added, still shucking his jacket as he met Emma's cheek with a kiss and then leaned over their daughter to brush his lips against Hook's as well. “Despite this one being up well before the sun, I seem to have failed at running her ragged even in the slightest – we'll have to take her out for some more sparring this afternoon.”

“Aye, that we will.”

“That all sounds great,” Emma agreed, grabbing the abandoned stack of plates and placing them down neatly in front of the chairs at the table, “but I woke up to the smell of bacon and still haven't gotten to eat any – so let's make plans after breakfast, sound good?”

“Aye aye, Captain!” Hope yelled, her words devolving into a stream of giggles that she buried in Hook's chest as both her fathers protested that Emma certainly didn't hold the qualifications to captain a ship.

“Mama's captain of the house – the house!” their daughter squealed, trying desperately to bat away Killian's fingers as he tickled her sides, eventually settling for throwing herself out of Hook's arms and running to the other side of the kitchen, the table a staunch line of defense against any further onslaught. “I've heard her say it, so it's true,” she insisted, blue eyes glimmering with the type of conviction only a four-year old can muster.

“Well, you must be right then, lass,” Killian relented, raising his hand and hook in surrender before pulling out a chair. “Now, come, sit and eat – before the Captain has us all walk the plank. You know how grumpy your mum gets when she's hungry.”

“I do not get grumpy,” Emma growled playfully, the mock indignation in her voice doing nothing to quell the smile lines around her mouth or the soft crinkle at the corners of her eyes.

Hope jumped into the seat Killian had pulled aside for her, eyebrows raised halfway toward her hairline as she watched Hook carry over the plates filled with fresh eggs and bacon, her feet kicking the underside of the chair in a steady rhythm.

“Can we go to the park this afternoon?” she asked, two pieces of bacon already gripped tightly in her small hand before any of her parents had even noticed her snatch them from the plate. “I want to have a treasure hunt.”

“Of course we can,” Hook smiled, sitting down and watching as their daughter munched happily on her bacon, his gaze drifting to Killian as he doled out eggs and Emma as she made her own plate, stealing some bacon from the pile that had somehow doubled in size on Hope's plate.

Emma's eyes lifted, meeting his own over the table – her green gaze so filled with warmth and love that he immediately felt foolish for the fear that had overtaken him that morning, for thinking that something so simple as time could ever make them drift apart, could somehow make them less than what they were and had always been destined to be – a family.

END

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[taizi]

the ship sways but the heart is steady

chapter three: build bridges with these arms 

the untamed pairing: jiang cheng & wei ying, lan zhan/wei ying, jiang cheng/wen qing word count: 3794 summary: Wei Ying’s friends are at rock-bottom, and Wei Ying puts his life on hold to help them put theirs back together. To absolutely no one’s surprise except Wei Ying’s, his family goes with him. read on ao3

x

Jiang Cheng doesn’t remember dropping the phone, but he must have, because Wen Qing is holding it now and talking to A-Li in the sharp, rapid-fire way she speaks when she’s frightened. He doesn’t remember getting off the couch or leaving the room, but he’s pacing back and forth on the veranda, the warm glow of the porch light pushing away encroaching nightfall. And he doesn’t remember Wei Ying coming after him, but his brother is there, watching with wide, anxious eyes, his hands balled into fists in the front of his shirt.

“I don’t fucking believe it,” Jiang Cheng bites out, his heart beating so fast it’s painful. “I can’t believe she didn’t fucking—she didn’t fucking call? She couldn’t let us know that—that our sister—”

“Maybe she meant to,” Wei Ying says hoarsely. “Maybe she—forgot.”

“Our mother never forgot a single thing in her fucking life as long as she could hold it against us.” He’s so angry he feels brittle with it, as though moving too much or too fast would cause his body to break. “A-Li asked her to call us and she didn’t. A-Li wanted us there and we weren’t.”

His baby nephew was coming early, and his sister was having an emergency C-section, and his brother-in-law was pacing a waiting room by himself for hours waiting desperately for good news, and Jiang Cheng was just fucking around in a lake the whole time.  

A-Li’s voice was so tired and shaky that Jiang Cheng knew, inherently, how bad it was.

She didn’t say it on the phone, of course she didn’t, but she didn’t need to. All of Jin Ling’s useless uncles have been reading every article about pregnancy and prenatal care that they could get their hands on from the moment A-Li told them she was expecting, and they each, to a man, could probably write a white paper on the risks of preterm labor.

Yanli could have died from complications. It wasn’t unheard of even now, in the twenty-first century. She could have bled too much, could have been gone, and Jiang Cheng wouldn’t have known until it was too late. He wouldn’t have been there to hold her.

Mother was supposed to call. She didn’t.

It’s like the sudden collapsing of some integral foundation. The weight-bearing limit was reached and the floor is crumbling beneath him and this building he’s lived in his whole life that he mistook for mortar and stone is actually some childish construction of paper and wax. This place he thought would withstand storm and fire and erosion is finally falling apart after so many years of careful repairs, so much frantic patchwork.

Mother hurt them over and over and over again, but she was still their mother. Family is just hard, Jiang Cheng had always thought. Family hurts. That’s just the way it is, it just costs you every day, and you’re always discovering how much farther you can push your threshold, how much more you can actually take.

Except... his siblings never hurt him. Never on purpose. He doesn’t look at A-Li or A-Ying and feel anything but fondness and exasperation and loyalty for them. He would do anything for them.

Wen Ning plainly adores his sister, and Wen Qing’s world revolves around her brother. None of their immediate relatives stepped in to help them after the fire, clearly screening their calls, none of them eager to sacrifice their time or money, but Granny has been almost a constant presence in their lives since they got here. She adopted all of them, no relation required.

Wei Ying came to the Jiangs when he was five, an emergency placement with the second family listed on his parents’ will, because his legal godfather was dealing with the death of his brother and sister-in-law, and the subsequent adoption of his young nephews. By the time Lan Qiren could be reached and came dashing to New York, it had been almost a week, and Wei Ying and A-Li and Jiang Cheng were all comfortably attached at the hip.

Rather than uproot his traumatized godson again, so soon after the initial upheaval of his young life, Lan Qiren reached an agreement with mother and father to let Wei Ying stay with them. He paid for all of Wei Ying’s expenses and then some. Jiang Cheng only knows because mother likes to complain about being short-changed when she’s drunk.

And then when his nephews were a little older, and he could step down from his role as director of a ridiculously prestigious music school, Uncle Qiren retired, and relocated his family from Suzhou to New York City. Wei Ying always had a second place to go home to if he needed one. His siblings were always welcome there, too. Uncle Qiren was strict and never let them get away with a goddamn thing, but he keeps all their pictures on his desk.

Family, Jiang Cheng finally realizes at twenty-three years old, isn’t supposed to hurt.

You’re supposed to be loved. You’re not supposed to have to buy it.

Wei Ying is crying in that awful, silent way he cries, as if he’s not sure he’s allowed to make a sound. Jiang Cheng storms over and drags him into a hug that’s probably too tight, and Wei Ying hugs him back just as hard, and for a moment that’s all there is.

Night is creeping in around them, inky and inexorable. They’re suspended in the warm orange porch light like a couple of sailors marooned at sea. Jiang Cheng holds onto his brother, and finally lets go of someone else.

#

It is silently agreed-upon that Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying need to see their sister. Wei Ying tries to apologize for leaving in the middle of retiling one of the bathrooms and Wen Qing gets properly angry with him for it.

“He’ll finish when he comes back,” Jiang Cheng promises, which ends up sounding more like a promise that they’re going to come back at all.

“The tiles in the bathroom are literally the least of my concerns,” Wen Qing snaps, and that sounds more like she’s saying she doesn’t need a promise, she knows they will.

They barely pack anything, they just sort of move around the house in anxious circles until the airport shuttle shows up, and then they shove on their shoes and grab blindly for bags and jackets.

Goodbyes are made on the veranda. After living together and rebuilding a home together, the embraces come easily. Jiang Cheng doesn’t even have a chance to feel self-conscious about any of it.

“The tickets should be in your email,” Lan Zhan says.

Wei Ying checks his phone and frowns. “You only got two?”

Lan Zhan says, “I will stay here.”

His eyes are dark and unreadable, but Wei Ying must see something in them that Jiang Cheng doesn’t. He drops his bag and shuffles forward and Lan Zhan puts his arms around him. He stands there like some ancient, immovable structure, like a load-bearing wall, like Wei Ying could bring absolutely anything to him and Lan Zhan would help him hold it.

“Give the bunnies a hundred kisses for me while I’m gone,” Wei Ying mumbles against Lan Zhan’s shoulder, muffled and wet in a telling way.

“A hundred kisses,” Lan Zhan agrees solemnly, and presses the first one into Wei Ying’s hair.

A-Yuan, holding Wen Ning’s hand, largely confused and a little troubled by the tense atmosphere, earnestly assures that he’ll take care of the bunnies. Wei Ying ruffles his hair playfully, and then finally seems ready to go.

“Try not to let the place fall apart without me,” Jiang Cheng says to Wen Qing.

“I’ll do my best,” she replies. She doesn’t reach out to him with her hands, but her eyes seem to.

Jiang Cheng can’t get her eyes out of his head.

#

Yanli is pale and tired and beautiful. She lifts her head as they come into her private hospital room, and then lifts her arms immediately, and Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying both run to her like they’re children again. She’s sobbing, trying to wrap her frail arms around them as hard as she can.

“I missed you so much,” she says. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Jiang Cheng can’t think of how close they came to losing her or he’ll go insane. He just sits on the edge of the bed and holds both of his siblings and doesn’t make fun of Wei Ying for crying as much as Yanli.

Jin Zixuan comes in with a nurse and a bassinet at that point, and there are deep bruises under his eyes and his clothes are as unkempt as Jiang Cheng has ever seen them, but he’s smiling.

The nurse bustles around cheerfully, checking vitals and talking to A-Li about how well the results of some screening or another turned out, but Jiang Cheng can’t focus on anything except the tiny little swaddle of butter-yellow blankets that Jin Zixuan is lifting out of the bassinet.

“A-Ling, this is your Uncle Cheng,” Jin Zixuan says softly, passing the infant into Jiang Cheng’s arms. He doesn’t take his hands away until Jiang Cheng’s apparent panic must have faded, and then he’s suddenly sitting there holding his nephew.

Jin Ling is faintly purple, and his tiny limbs are all curled up like he still hasn’t realized he has room to stretch them out now, and his face is pinched in a moue of absolute distaste for the world in general.

“Oh my god,” Wei Ying says. He leans against Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, smoothing a finger against the soft mop of dark hair on Jin Ling’s head, and the tiny seashell curl of his ear, impossibly gentle. “What a weird-looking baby.”

“Shut up, you asshole,” Jiang Cheng snaps. Now he’s crying, too. “He’s perfect.”

Yanli is beaming at them, leaning into the arm that Jin Zixuan wraps around her shoulders, and asks about California. Wei Ying launches into animated chatter about all their projects and all their progress. Surrounded by them, some jangling, dislocated thing in Jiang Cheng’s chest finally begins to settle.

#

The day that A-Li and Ling-er are discharged from the hospital, Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng are skulking around the overpriced gift shop on the first floor. Lan Huan is with them, and Jiang Cheng is trying to talk him down from spending eighty dollars on a giant teddy bear, when he sees her.

His mother, making her way through the lobby toward them. Something cold and sharp replaces the warm golden core of him in an instant. He puts a hand on Lan Huan’s shoulder and says, “Keep my brother here.”

Lan Huan blinks. His eyes follow Jiang Cheng’s gaze, and his pleasant expression sours.

“Of course,” he says. “He can help me pick out a bear.”

“Jesus christ, with the bears,” Jiang Cheng mutters, and shoulders past him to get out of the gift shop, cutting his mother off outside the door.

“So you’re finally home,” she says by way of greeting. “Did you enjoy your vacation?”

“We’re not doing this here,” he mutters, hyper-aware of Wei Ying puttering around somewhere not even ten feet away. Turning on his heel, Jiang Cheng leads the way past the gift shop, away from the busy atrium and the receptionist’s desk, trusting his mother’s need to have the last word will compel her to follow.

He stops abruptly in an empty hallway somewhere between the billing and record departments and turns to face her.

“I didn’t come here today to play childish games,” mother says, sounding weary of him, of all things.

And it hurts, how much Jiang Cheng still loves her. How much he still wants to love her. His entire life is a series of attempts to trick her into feeling something for him, feeling anything for him. Trying to win her affection. Attempting the impossible.

“You didn’t call,” he says.

Yu Ziyuan scoffs. “You made it fairly clear that you weren’t interested in anything I had to say to you.”

“A-Li wanted you to call,” Jiang Cheng insists, the temper he inherited cresting inside him like a wave, or a wall of fire. “She could have—do you even care that she could have died? That she was scared? She wanted you to call us. And you just decided not to, to get back at us for disobeying you? I’m twenty-three years old! If I want to go to California to help my friends, I’ll go to fucking California!”

He’s never in his life raised his voice at her like this. A small, childish corner of his heart quails from the stunned anger on her face.

He clenches his fists to keep his hands from shaking.

“You stay the fuck away from us,” Jiang Cheng snarls. “All of us. I mean it. We’re done.”

Family, he thinks, isn’t supposed to hurt.

When he starts to step past her, mother grabs his arm hard enough that her long nails manage to pinch even through the sleeve of his denim jacket.

Knee-jerk, he rips himself away from her. He never forgets to flinch.

His mother stares at him like she’s never seen anything like him before, her hand hovering in the air between them. Jiang Cheng takes a step back, and then another.

He thinks of his sister’s precious life, his nephew’s, used as some sort of bargaining chip.

“We’re done,” he says. It comes out quieter than he meant for it to. It comes out sounding like he really, actually means it.

If something flickers in his mother’s expression, if her hand trembles, if she shifts towards him, he doesn’t see it. He’s already spinning around and heading back the way he came, not quite fast enough to call it fleeing. When Jiang Cheng rounds the corner, he runs headlong into someone who catches him by the shoulder before he can stumble.

Wei Ying’s gray eyes are wide and full of pain. Jiang Cheng doesn’t need to know how much he overheard to know that all that hurt is for Jiang Cheng’s sake, and A-Li’s, with hardly any left over for himself. Wei Ying never had to wonder if Yu Ziyuan loved him—he always knew she didn’t, no matter how much his siblings tried to convince him she did.

Jiang Cheng sinks forward against him, head falling against Wei Ying’s shoulder. He’s still trembling with anger, but now it feels more like grief.

Wei Ying hugs him, cheek pressed to Jiang Cheng’s hair, and after a moment he rocks them both from side-to-side.

“Come on, A-Cheng,” he says gently. “You’ll feel better once you see how much Lan Huan spent on Ling-er’s teddy bear.”

“Oh my god,” Jiang Cheng mutters. He already feels a little bit better.

#

They end up leaving a week later. A-Li promises to come visit the second the baby is cleared for travel, and kisses Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying both on the cheek. Jin Zixuan waves goodbye at them with Ling-er’s tiny hand.

Flying stand-by gets them home whole hours ahead of schedule, and they land in California at something like two in the morning. Neither of them want to wake up their friends, so they spend a small fortune on an Uber instead.

Predictably, Wei Ying’s eyelids start to droop the second the car pulls onto the highway. Jiang Cheng only nudges him awake when they enter city limits. As they pass the township sign, Jiang Cheng’s heart twists in his chest, like a dog perking up at the sound of a key in the front door. The Uber driver squints in confusion at the GPS screen, so Wei Ying leans up over the middle console to direct him down the proper county road.

They pull up in front of the villa and Jiang Cheng’s whole body sort of sighs in relief.

Wei Ying is beelining towards the front door before Jiang Cheng is even entirely out of the car, juggling bags to dig his keys out of his pocket. He’s got that look on his face of single-minded focus, a look that says he is going to get to his fiance in the next two minutes even if he has to break a window to do it.

“You’re so dumb,” Jiang Cheng says, and shoulders him aside to unlock the door.

“Your face is dumb,” Wei Ying retorts maturely. He kicks off his boots and drops his bags by the door, and then races for the stairs like it’s been thirteen years since he’s seen Lan Zhan instead of like thirteen days. “Night!” he whisper-shouts over his shoulder.

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes and locks the door behind him. He leans against the wall to tug the laces of his sneakers loose and tosses them toward the shoe rack. Shouldering Wei Ying’s bags with his own he deposits all of them inside the big French armoire that functions as an entry-way closet.

Reflexively, he checks in on the rabbits on his way through the living room. They’re fast asleep in their expansive two-story hutch that sprawls half the length of the wall. Muttering derisively about his brother’s taste in men, Jiang Cheng snags a blanket off the back of the sofa and steps through the narrow doorway into the den.

Wen Qing is fast asleep at her desk, face buried in her folded arms. She’s been doing this ever since she resumed her classes.

Shaking his head, Jiang Cheng leans over her laptop to save all her work, then closes it so it’ll have some battery life left in the morning. He drapes the blanket over her slumped shoulders carefully.

“I’m home,” he tells her quietly. She doesn’t wake up, but he didn’t mean for her to.

#

Wei Ying is greeted the next morning by a screech. A-Yuan flings himself away from the breakfast table to attach himself to Wei Ying’s leg.

“You’re back!”

“I’m back!” Wei Ying says, hauling the kid up into his arms. “And I brought you so many souvenirs from New York!”

There are mouth-shaped bruises on Wei Ying’s neck, because of course there are. Jiang Cheng prays to god for any shred of fucking patience and pointedly doesn’t look at him or Lan Zhan. How fucking dare they be like that right in front of his eggs.

When they’ve eaten, Granny says, “Everyone has a big surprise for you two.  They hurried to get it done before you got home. A-Ning, go find your sister. Let’s show them.”

They’re shuffled outside, through the conservatory and down the back steps, and Jiang Cheng sees it a half-second before Wei Ying does. He grins, full and wide, and hears his brother gasp.

“You finished the dock!” Wei Ying yells. “It looks amazing!”

He goes running down the hill with Wen Ning and A-Yuan like a summer storm composed of loud, delighted noises and waving limbs. Lan Zhan follows slowly with Granny hanging onto his arm. Jiang Cheng watches after them, reaching into the corners of his chest for the pain that always comes hand-in-hand with moments of impossible joy like this, but he can’t seem to find it.

“The contractor said he would give us an estimate on a pavilion,” Wen Qing’s voice says from behind him.

Jiang Cheng turns to find her standing on the porch, leaning against the door, her hair still messy from sleep. She’s holding the blanket around her shoulders where he left it. Her eyes are reaching for him.

He’s braver than he was when he left.

“That’s a pretty permanent fixture,” Jiang Cheng says, heart beating wildly. “You sure you’re invested in something like that?”

She sighs in that way that means she’s laughing and comes down the steps to join the rest of her family by the water.

#

When the pavilion is finished, they have a wedding there.

It’s a small ceremony. The Lans are invited, of course, along with Jin Zixuan’s half-brother and a scattering of close friends, like Mianmian and Nie Huaisang. A-Yuan is the ring-bearer, and when he’s successfully delivered the rings to the grooms, he lifts his arms in a bid to be held.

Laughingly, Wei Ying scoops him up. His hair is loose and his eyes are bright, and Lan Zhan is looking at him the way he’s always looking at him, like he would follow him absolutely anywhere.

Just this once, Jiang Cheng will allow it.

The daylight is fading fast, and the night is going to be perfect and clear. Yanli and Wen Ning are spinning each other around in time to the music, totally out of step with everyone else and laughing brightly. Granny is taking a fussy A-Ling back up to the villa to put him to bed in the nursery that every single one of them spent way too much time and energy on, leaving Jin Zixuan free to nurse a glass of sparkling grape juice and stare judgmentally at his half-brother for flirting with Lan Huan. Jiang Cheng might join him for some judgmental staring, actually.

Wei Ying and Lan Zhan are slow-dancing with a giggling A-Yuan held between them. The water rocks gently against the posts, crowded with the lily pads and lotus flowers that Jin Zixuan carefully maintains for A-Li. Wen Qing crosses the dock to Jiang Cheng, and her hand slips easily into his.

And none of it hurts. It isn’t supposed to.

Their house waited empty for a long, long time, but they’re all finally home.