#I shouldn’t have been hit as a small child. I thank god that my parents stopped that with me. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lu-lus-dicks · 8 months ago

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okay this will be long so strap in

"worried I won't amount to anything" this hits home. I thought like this exactly and that feeling sucked, especially since it's because of your parents. I only have one piece of advice for this and it's not that deep. I know you want to make something of yourself, be told that you are amazing but that should be completely done with your desires and not some pressure from the outside world. if you don't end up doing anything with your life (which by the way, not true. i've seen myself how many people you've helped on here) that is okay. it's okay to just live life as an average joe who lived and died.

hiding yourself from your parents is something I relate to too. I haven't even mentioned my depressive tendencies to them because much like you, I don't know how it'll be recieved (though from my side, it's more done out of love for my parents rather than fear). it's valid that you don't share your feelings to them, especially since they've broken your trust before. not even your parents are entitled to you as a person and never forget that

sometimes, sadness can translate to anger. I know this from experience. my mom tends to start exploding everytime she's nervous. not justifying anything she might've done, just some food for thought

for what it's worth, at least you're expressing yourself here right? :)

we both surpress our emotions and that is eating us alive. I recently found that out when I got tumblr. you and everyone else has been so accepting of everything that for the first time in YEARS I felt something. now that I can compare my time before that, I can say with 100% guarantee that simply just letting it out can take some of the load off your shoulders. which is exactly why I encourage you posting these drafts even more

whoever came up with "overreacting" and "others have it worse" needs to die honestly. I don't see anything as overreacting. any sort of emotional reacting is adequate to what you are feeling. if a child scrapes their knee do you think they're overreacting? of course not, even though the pain inflicted is absolutely minimal. but we don't go around telling little kids "oh you're overreacting" or "others have it worse". no, we comfort them because we know that to a little kid, their little body can be the entire world in their eyes. the same way that pain translates to something bigger in the little kid, so can our pain in our bodies and "overreacting" is not a thing. just because something is small in comparison to another thing doesn't make it less worthy of attention. two things can be bad at the same time.

"I have a family, I have food, I had shelter. I shouldn’t have been sad." wrong. just because someone has all of these base human needs, doesn't mean they are exempt from suffering. just because someone can have it worse, doesn't make your own pain disappear and that's valid. seeking attention is not that selfish. you are always more than welcome to ask for my attention whenever I'm available and don't feel bad about it either. I encourage being an attention whore because god knows you need it.

"and was threatened to sent to a mental hospital, with padded walls." I hate this honestly. this shouldn't be a threat because it never works. it should be an offer of help, not a threat and the more someone makes it seem like a threat the less likely they are to view it as help and more as an attack on their person.

you'll never be a failure in my eyes vel. to me the biggest achievement in a person can be just how loving and kind they are because that takes strength. and I am proud of you for still having that strength within you even after all you've been put through. to still be a good person despite your suffering is truly impressive and worthy of praise more than anything else.

as for grandma J, firstly, tell her a thank you for me for keeping your spirits up. and as for the rest, I know it can be scary, especially since you love her so much, but death is part of life unfortunately. I hope your grandma lives to be 200 years old because she deserves it, but if you've made it here today, you'll have the strength to live tomorrow.

accepting help can be very difficult for some people vel, that doesn't mean they don't trust or appreciate your kindness towards them and oftentimes just being told you're there for them and that you'll lend an ear whenever they need it can be everything to the point where they don't need anything else. so don't you dare even think you're a failure

and WOW that part about feeling useless felt home. the depressive episode rant I had in my notes is similar and that kind of terrifies me because I honestly can't tell you how to help with that. I also struggle with myself and what I'm actually doing so at least you know you're not alone in this.

don't put all the blame on yourself for that message screenshot btw. if they really were uncomfortable with what you were doing, they failed to set boundaries with you and they shouldn't be surprised if it happened again. if you don't tell someone that something is making you uncomfortable, do you just expect them to realise? no. you couldn't have known. this is why I fucking hate neurotypical people, they just expect you to always know what's on their mind instead of communicating like they should. don't beat yourself over this vel, I struggle with it too.

and as a side note, if you are friends (and even worse girlfriends) and you aren't willing to lend an ear to your partner, then why are you partners in the first place? your partner is supposed to be someone you trust with your life, a companion and someone who you can lean on. sure, it may have made them uncomfortable, but there probably was a workaround for that.

know that no matter how big of an emotional baggage you think you have, I will always be here to lend an ear, even if you aren't asking for my advice and just want me to hear you out, that's okay too.

I know right now you don't want to dump all of that onto another, but hey, lulu is just a stranger on the internet that is willing to lend the ear you need. you won't be able to push me away that easily vel <3 after all, we are enemies to lovers

perfection is impossible to achieve. we're all human. we are built to make mistakes vel. I noticed you are always too quick to blame yourself for everything, but it's easy to forget in the heat of the moment that other people are human too, they make mistakes just like you. they are just better at disguising and hiding it from sight.

and figuring out what went wrong with your ex, isn't going to be the same for the next person vel. for example me. maybe your ex didn't like being called an idiot jokingly, but I do. we are all different with different tastes and it's all of our jobs to let everyone know where our boundaries are.

asking for help is never wrong vel. and once again, happy birthday <3

Draft #2

WARNINGS: long post, rant post, mentions of sh and suicide, and a lot of other things, personal rant(s), LIKE REALLY LONG POST, please do not read unless you think you are comfortable with repetition, and idk what else. I am a warning in itself.

(4/2/24) (mentions of sh and suicide)

It’s 1:38 in the morning. I don’t really know anymore. I’m just so worried I won’t amount to anything. My stepsister has always been better than me at everything. I still remember my middle school and high school years when I heard my mother and step-father talking shit about their kids, about my step-brothers. But I hardly ever heard them utter a bad word about my step-sister. I became something I didn’t want to be in my high school years, in hopes I could live up to my sister, hoping maybe it would make sure I wasn’t the next kid they talked shit about.

I already knew at the time that they didn’t really take me seriously back then. Not when it came to my morals anyways.

At times when one or the other was driving, I would have to text the other. And that was when visiting my father was mandatory. So every once in awhile, the message would pop up “you pick up the brat yet?”

I know they never meant it in that way. At least I hoped not. But honestly being someone I wasn’t, and being someone I’m not still, to this day, it sucks. I hate having to pretend to my parents, even to this day, despite my independence. I’m just so worried about acceptance, that I find it hard to face them. I fear telling my parents (on both sides) anything.

Mainly, because when they first found out about the self harm in middle school, it was a difficult situation. They said they wanted to help me. And then they took me to a therapist for a total of three-five times before they said ‘this isn’t working fast enough’ and pulled me out of it. I was always scared of being yelled at when I made mistakes. That lead to me fearing ever telling my parents anything, including my own emotions.

For a long time, once I finally lived with my mother again, I never saw her cry. I only ever saw her angry, or happy. But I never saw her sad. That made me think that being sad wasn’t normal, or that, I shouldn’t be sad about anything because she wasn’t. The reason she hid any of her sadness was because she didn’t want her own child worrying about her.

But her hiding her own emotions from me made me feel like I had to suppress mine as well. So I never trusted my parents with my emotions, either.

But I guess it didn’t help that they always said I was either ‘overreacting’ or just being a ‘drama queen’. Go this day idk if they were right, or if they were just, avoiding it.

I don’t know which one I’d want it to be. Because if they were wrong, and that my emotions were actually valid, what would that mean for me? For them? Would it make it seem like they had neglected my own emotional and mental well-being? If they were wrong, if they thought because of my overreacting and drama queen the fancies that my emotions weren’t valid, then what is the limit to validate emotions? What would it have taken for them to stop accusing me of overreacting or being a drama queen?

They never made me feel valid. They still don’t. The only good throng I’ve done so far with my life, is get good grades. It’s been so long since I heard one of my parents (step or not) say they were proud of me, so when they got the letter in the mail about my good grades in online schooling, when that happened and they said they were proud, I almost cried.

It’s strange.

For a long time back in middle school-high school, I desperately wanted to die. I didn’t want to live in a world where everyone would judge me for my smallest of mistakes and ignore my feats.

I knew that, being the youngest, I was my parents last chance to have a child they were proud of. Everyone else but my stepsister had failed to be a kid that my parents were proud of (or at least didn’t talk shit about). I knew that if I didn’t want to be talked shit about, I’d either have to leave, or change.

I was so done, with the world. I hated myself for my failures, I hated the way I had been raised. But I also hated myself, because I had no reason to. Im not living on the streets, I have a family, I have food, I had shelter. I shouldn’t have been sad. “It couldve been worse”, as the mentality goes. I didn’t deserve to be sad, and it made me feel worse. I felt like all I was doing was trying to gain attention, even though that’s not what I wanted. I thought I was being selfish because of my own emotions, and it still gets fucked in my head sometimes.

Back in my freshman year of high school, a girl (which for the sake of her identity and name I will not be naming), had hung herself in her closet. Rumor was because she was having problems at home.

Way back in middle school, even. A girl in my 8th grade year tried to kill herself. She planned it all out. She wanted to hang herself in the bathroom, and if she couldn’t do that, she had some sort of sharp object to try and slit her throat. She couldn’t hang herself, and she cut her throat, barely enough to bleed. It was not deep or long enough to kill her, only to sting. When her parents saw the injury on her neck, she got in trouble for it, and was threatened to sent to a mental hospital, with padded walls.*

I knew both those girls, in a sense. And I knew that the one from high school had it worse than I did. I felt shitty. I felt like I had no reason to be sad.

Like I had no validation, because I wasn’t supposed to show that much emotion in front of others, because what I learned from my mother without her knowing, was to surppress the sadness. I want to amount to something, I want to be something my family can be proud of. I don’t want to be the next disgrace, I don’t want to be the person without control of her emotions. I don’t want to become a failure because I lost, or because I couldn’t do what I needed to do.

4/5/2024

Time is going by so quick, it’s killing me. Just today with my grandmother. I went to stay with my father for the weekend, so I’m going back to her house Sunday night to spend the eclipse with her. But as she left the house which I’m staying with my father and his girlfriend, I feared ‘what if this is the last time I see her?’

She is less than 20 years younger than my GREAT grandmother who died only a few months ago.

I love this grandmother with all my heart (I’ll call her grandma J from now on), and I’d hate to see her die, at all. I’m literally going to see her on Sunday, only two days from now, why am I worrying so much? Why did I wonder if it would be the last time I see her?

I’m so scared. I’d be lost without her, she has been my rock for a long time. Even though she is heavily Christian, and I don’t feel as connected, I always feel better after spending some time with her, (whether we speak of God or not). I grew up, spending every other weekend with her instead of my father, because he wasn’t able to take care of me where he lived for a long time. I lived with Angela (another grandmother of mine who I HATE) for the first seven years of my life. Spending every other weekend with my Mother, and the weekends I didn’t spend with my mom, I spent with Grandma J. Things have changed heavily since then, I barely remember that time in my life.

But my grandma J. She means everything to me. I always leave her house happier than when I left it. No one else does that for me.

I’m so, so fucking TERRIFIED, of who I’ll be, where I’ll be mentally, when she’s gone.

I’m so so scared…

(4/8/2024)

It’s 12:41, so technically eclipse day. Had a serious talk w my grandmother. I told her I was Ace, (not the pan-romantic part, but yk) and she was pretty okay w it. Especially when I told her I wasn’t gonna have children of my own creation (I might adopt, cause I wanna make a home to those kids who don’t have one yk?) and I just got really emotional. It doesn’t matter how many times I fucking say it, I am so scared to lose her. I cried, thinking this may be the last time I see her. You never know. She almost got hit on her way to see me on Thursday last week! I know she might be gone soon and I am not ready for it. It may be a last time for everything, and I’m so so so fucking scared words can’t even describe it. Not through type/text. If I were recording myself, you’d hear my ugly crying, and my voice in general breaking so no. But the point is, I dunno what’s gonna happen. My future, and hers, scares me to death. When she’s gone… I may as well be too.

So if I disappear for a long time, you will know why.

If I go batshit crazy (whether it’s lashing out, or self-isolation, or pretending to be fine [ya know, the stages of grief]) you know why.

This woman is one of my few rocks. My grandmother, and my eldest blood brother, who I shall call ‘E’ for the sake of keeping their identities secret.

I, don’t know what’ll happen to me once either of them are gone. Same with my parents, but I trust my brother and grandmother more than I do them, so it will be harder to lose them, as much as it may seem crazy to say.

I’m scared. I know I keep saying it, but every day I spend, is another closer to my grandmother’s inevitable death. I hate the thought, yet it keeps coming back since my GREAT grandmother died a few months ago. It’s not fun.

I hate feeling this terrified.

I feel paralyzed, like a record skipping, the never ending thought(s).

It’s horrible.

(4/12/24) 12:43 am

I don’t think I’m good enough.

I keep failing myself and others, over and over again. I want to help people, but it’s so fucking frustrating when they won’t accept it. I get it, sometimes it’s hard to accept help. But (per specific example) when I’m asked for help for the smallest of things like understanding some work, and you apologize a million times, it hurts. I hate seeing people I care about apologizing. I don’t know how to help them because they refuse to let me do so. I just, feel like I’m failing them. I can’t help them and it makes me feel like shit.

I wanna help people. At this point, the people I care about, and my drive to help them always, is the only reason I’m alive. The past few years since I last therapied someone, have been shitty. I hadn’t been able to help others and it just went by so fast, and almost without any emotion. It was awful, I felt lost. I lost my will to write, read, and draw. I lost everything about myself. When I picked up drawing again I cried because I thought I lost what little talent I had because it was shit at first. I don’t even know who I am. Am I even who I used to be, or am I a carbon copy of my successful step-sister?

I forced myself to change in high-school so my parents would be proud of me, so that I would be successful.

So I wouldn’t struggle in my future, so I could get a scholarship to college so I wouldn’t be drowning in debt like my mother was most of my life.

I just wanted a steady life. And one without the shit talk my parents would do behind their kids’s backs.

Fuck I’m so tired of it.

I feel so useless damnit. I feel worthless. I don’t want to be here anymore, I just want peace. Because these thoughts, these voice keep coming back no matter what. Telling me I’m not good enough, that I don’t try hard enough and that I’m too lazy, that I make up excuses. But when I try to say I did try, they always say I didn’t push myself enough. I dunno, do I not try hard enough? I dunno. I’m just so sick of this endless battle and I want it to be done. One day I want those people to realize it was an act. I want my parents to realize that they fucked me up. That they put too much expectation on me without their own realization. I want them to know that the therapy they took from me only made it worse. Then being upset over one singular missing assignment (that we’re hardly ever my fault) only made it worse. That threatening to put me in an asylum at the age of 13 only made it worse. That talking shit about my step-siblings right in front of me only made my fear worse. That hiding their emotions from me only made it worse. Cause god fucking damnit I’m scared of you now! I’m scared to come to you for anything! I have to contact my brother, or my grandmother! And one day I might not even have them! You say I can trust you with anything but then you turn around and call me a drama queen, that I’m being too sensitive, that I’m overreacting, making up excuses, being a liar, just being lazy, not trying as hard as you know I can, stop making things a competition.

God damnit, what am I even doing? I’m nothing, nothing but a failure. I should be trying harder but here I am, still being lazy. And I’m just blaming everyone for it when it’s all my fault.

(4/13/24)

^i didn’t move on to someone else four days later. Just because me and my bf were friends didn’t mean we were together. And I never, EVER cheated on her. Sure, I found someone new and he’s my bf now, but at the same time me and her, we both realized we were never romantic with each other. And I broke up with her? She was the one who approached me and said that she felt like her feelings for me weren’t being returned (which was true, I realized. We called each other girlfriends but I felt like she was nothing more to a friend to me) and I thought she was okay with it. Mind you when she came up to me I thought she was going to ask me to an event, but instead she called it off. I thought it would be better suited that way anyways, and we both agreed on that but I did NOT break up with her! And apparently, when she talked to me, she was scared to tell me that I offended her every once in awhile by some things I said (which she never said what do I still don’t know and it’s fucking killing me), ^because she thought I was gonna blow up at her. Apparently I fucking scared them and I don’t even know I didn’t realize they felt that way and just about a month ago I get this message on top of it like.

I probably should’ve realized I was a piece of shit. I was just like that bitch from high school we all collectively hated. God I’m so fucking sorry…

I thought we were still friends. This is a message I got from them through my old asf Wattpad account that is cringe. That I stopped checking until I saw that post today. They never intended for me to read that message so soon. They even said so themselves but fuck.

I’m sorry, to you both. I know you’ll never see this. But I’m so so so sorry, I didn’t realize.

I’m trying I am TRYING to never do this again but I still do this shit to people, don’t I? I just Fuckin manipulate and hurt them. I can’t just, spout off my trauma or whatever the fuck and shit like that! I know that now and I feel so fucking bad damnit… I didn’t realize I promise I am so sorry.

Why didn’t you say anything? I should’ve noticed, you shouldn’t have HAD to say anything after the fact I should’ve just known. Why can’t I see these things? I never see red flags, I never see my OWN red flags and manipulate tendencies until someone points them out. Why can’t I read social cues and shit?

God I’m trying, but I’m not at all, am I?

I just hate that I didn’t realize! I didn’t break up with her she broke up with me! We both agreed it was better, but I guess she was a lot more hurt by it than she let on and I thought we resolved things but. God fucking damnit.

I can’t ever do this to anyone I REFUSE! I can’t do this, I can’t put this pressure on people ever again, I don’t want to push them away. I never want this to happen again I don’t want to hurt people like this again.

I lost my two closest friends. And I didn’t even fucking realize it.

Fuck I don’t know what I’m going to do. I already apologized like a million times for scaring them with my slight anger issues, but I never actually hurt hurt them physically I didn’t realize I lashed out at them and I didn’t realize I was forcing them to listen to my problems. I thought they were okay with helping me but they didn’t say anything all because they were scared and I just.

I’m fucking freaking out, but I need to calm down. I need to calm down, and just breathe, and everything will be fine. Fuck it’s now 1:14 am I shouldn’t be thinking right now it’s dangerous.

But fucking damnit, I knew I shouldn’t have just dumped all my shit onto them but FUCK.

I need a fucking therapist for that, not my FUCKING FRIENDS.

God what is wrong with me, making my friends my therapists?

Fuck. I lost my friends, I almost have no one left Irl except for this one small friend group, which has drama and way too many sex jokes for me to even want to be IN it anymore. But they’re all I got and we stick together until the end. Most days I don’t mind it, but sometimes I hate being one of the only girls in said friend group.

Fuck I don’t know what to do, I can’t tell my bf about this or else he’ll flip, and I can’t make him my therapist, that’s wrong I was told so! My bf has had it so much worse than I have I shouldn’t be freaking out about this as much, this is nothing compared to what him and so many others have gone through.

But damnit. I DONT have a therapist, not anymore, and I can’t ducking afford one or even talk my parents into helping me get one because as said before they think the process is too damn slow. I can’t fucking tell anyone without feeling bad and knowing I’m a shitty person, because until now I didn’t realize telling people my problems was a bad thing, that asking them to help me out as if they were my fucking therapist (WHICH THEY ARENT AM I STUPID? To just dump all that shit on them without them even saying if it was okay or not?) was a bad thing.

So I’m alone, but that’s fine. I can’t tell anyone anyways so that’s how it’s gotta be and I can live with that. I have for awhile. But I don’t want to be alone. But I’d rather struggle alone than hurt anyone else because I don’t want to lose anyone else, or hurt them, or push them away or scare them like I did with these two.

I don’t want to be w/o my friends. I don’t I really don’t.

I’m never doing that again I promise you I’ll never do it again. I’m so fucking sorry I never realized and I know I’m a piece of dirt shit for not realizing sooner, and for scaring you guys to the point you couldn’t communicate with me w/o fear on your end. I should’ve known and I am so so sorry.

Fuck I even talked to my brother and we have the same timezone I shouldn’t have bothered him. Thankfully he let me go quickly. Fuck I hope I didn’t scare him off either…

(4/14/24) 10:44 pm

I’m so tired. Tired of feeling useless and like a failure. If I fail the people I care about then I am NOTHING. I don’t care about myself, I don’t I just want to make people proud of me. I don’t want them thinking I’m a waste, I don’t want them seeing me the same way I do. Please oh fuck… I don’t want to be a disappointment. I really don’t. I don’t want to hurt people, I want to help them. I feel like an utter piece of shit. I can’t ever talk to my friends about my problems again im not doing that to anyone every again. That’s why this will never be posted, I can’t hurt anyone else with my stupid rants and tendencies. I feel like im manipulating and hurting people by being open with them and I don’t want pity I do not want that, I just want them to know I’m not perfect. And even that is scary because if I am not PERFECT in every single aspect then I failed.

I keep apologizing, sounding like a broken record of an ex trying to get their relationship back but I really am sorry. I talked to my step-father about what happened yesterday concerning my friends. He said that I was one of the nicest person he’s ever met, saying how he knows I try to go outta my way to avoid hurting people but what if he was lying? Cause what if I did say something mean?

I call people idiots and jerks a lot, but I never mean it! I normally mean it in a joking matter but that’s not really nice is it? I’m reeling trying to figure this out and I just want to know what I did wrong so I never do it again. I know not to spout my problems off like I did, I know to watch what I say but how am I supposed to watch EVERYTHING I say?

Fuck I don’t care what I have to do. I’ll do anything, anything to make sure I never hurt anyone like that again. Scaring people, hurting them, it’s so fucking scary to me. I don’t want to do that, that’s the person I aim to NOT be. I wanna help, I wanna heal! Not hurt and scare. I sound like a fucking broken record and it’s pathetic.

I can’t ever post this, it will only make things worse and it’ll only make me feel worse. Because if I post this draft, I’ll be forcing everyone who sees this to be my therapist and I swore to never do that again.

Fuck man. I want help. I’m actually asking for help for once, straight up saying it. But I can’t, the one time I want it, the only time I feel I need it, I can’t ask for it because it’s wrong to do so.

(4/18/2024)

I know that none of my “friends” will be texting me in my birthday this year. I’m not expecting them to text me this year, because I’ve lost all my friends. I don’t think anyone will care this time around. At first I was excited! But getting older isn’t fun at all. People start leaving, start to say things they held back, start to tell you things you didn’t notice before. You grow apart and soon you become alone.

I realize that I should be happy my family is texting me, cause sometimes people’s families don’t even text them. But it’s kinda a requirement, that’s your fam, they should know these things. And most of the time, they wish you happy birthday as an after thought. Friends don’t do that (unless they need to be reminded) but still.

I’m gonna miss those two.

(4/19/2024) 11:31 pm

It’s almost my birthday! Hah. What a cruel joke honestly.

I miss those two so much, every time I see the one who messaged me I instantly go quiet, turn my head away until I’ve walked past them. Fuck, I moved around so much during my elementary school years, those two were the longest friends I’ve ever made.

Everyone already has their best friends.

I’ll always be the outsider.

I really am alone aren’t I? That one friend that never gets invited, that hangs back.

The last one they pick to partner up w in classes kinda shit (which, is also true atm).

I’m alone and it sucks. I miss them so much. I don’t care what that one said, I want them back I just want my friends back.

I want my gossip gals back.

My face to face, same time-zone, Irl friends who I can trust my life with.

I’m losing people left and right. I can’t take it. I’m fucking crying less than 30 minutes before my birthday and it’s pathetic.

People are without families, without homes, and I’m crying over this?

Fuckin stupid…

#lulu convos #cursed polycule #i'm sorry if any of this came off as invalidating but know that I hear you and understand you completely

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tinydeskwriter · 3 years ago

Text

A Little Pink Package

warnings: childbirth; swearing; fluffy

“I hate you! I want you to walk through hell covered in gasoline! You fucking bastard!” Y/n screamed the last part with true hate in her voice, throwing one of the pillows that supported her back at her boyfriend and baby daddy with all the strength she could muster in the midst of a contraction. “You will never touch me again.” She said tiredly as the contraction wore off. “I want my mommy.”

“I know ma.” Jack kissed her sweaty forehead looking at his cell phone, he had informed both their families as soon as her water broke. “They must be arriving soon.”

His parents were already in the hospital, Clay included, his mother—who was keeping them company in the room—had gone out to get a coffee for herself, and an energy drink for Jack—little Ms. Harlow had decided to be born in the middle of the night, waking everyone up—Y/n’s parents were already on their way back from Lexington, where Mr.Y/Ln had gone to complete the purchase of some racehorses for his father-in-law.

“Help me up.” She held out her arms to the boy. “I need to walk.” Y/n she explained when Jack eyed her warily.

The eighteen-year-old helped his girlfriend out of the hospital bed, making sure the back opening nightgown didn't leave anything exposed.

And wherever the girl went she was followed by her 6ft3in shadow, supporting her every time a contraction hit hard, massaging her lower back as she leaned on his shoulders, her body leaning forward due to the force of contraction. Y/n had turned down drugs after watching childbirth documentaries and decided on a natural birth, something she now regretted due to the intensity of the pain, but there was no going back. This baby would come into the world as God intended, in all its glorious pain—they definitely shouldn't allow so much freedom of choice for a seventeen-year-old having her first child. What the fuck did she know about births? That's what she'd shouted into the phone with her mother when she'd called to ask where the fuck they are.

“I need to push.” Was all Y/n said as he got up from the ball she was sitting on for Maggie to braid her hair. Jack jumped up from the armchair he was sitting in, looking at his mother not knowing what to do. “I need to push.” Y/n repeated.

“I'll call the midwife.” That's all Maggie said before she left the room.

Y/n was already bent over the bed, in the position she found most comfortable for her, Jack was quickly beside her, one hand in hers while the other traced circles on her back.

“Everything will be alright ma.” He assured her. “We're in this together.”

“Are you the one who's going to push a watermelon out of your vagina?” She turned to him annoyed. “Just be quiet Jackman, the only thing you did was nine months ago for two minutes.” The girl barked.

Jack didn't even respond, since she went into labor Y/n wasn't herself, the sweet and gentle girl she was dating had been replaced by a rabid demon whose favorite/only victim was him.

If someone asked, Y/n couldn't tell when the midwife and nurse arrived in the room, what was said, or how long it took. She remembers the pain, screaming at Jack the whole time—which he accepted with astonishing grace for an eighteen-year-old boy—her parents arrived in the middle of her delivery, and then simply the pressure was relieved, the pain The throbbing stopped, and the room was filled with the baby's loud cries.

Hours later, lying on the hospital bed after being washed and changed, looking completely tired, with her back is leaning against Jack's chest, who had his arm around her, was Y/n. The teenage couple had their attention completely focused on the little package wrapped in pink blanket in Y/n's arms.

“I think she's going to have my nose.” Y/n whispered, running her fingertip across the nose of the baby she had just brought into the world.

She couldn't even believe that she and Jack had made that baby.

“Thank God for small mercies.” The boy said, Y/n giggled feeling her boyfriend's hot breath behind her ear. “She is so beautiful.” Jack smiled as the sleeping little girl squeezed his index finger. “She kind of looks like you.” He commented.

“You think?” Y/n asked without taking her eyes off her daughter's face.

“Hmm hmm.” He agreed. “But I think she's going to have my hair.” The boy ran his hand through the baby's still thin hair, the few strands present were curly, but nothing could say how they would be in the future. “She's going to break hearts just like her mother.” He smiled at his girlfriend.

Y/n rolled her eyes.

“I never broke hearts Jack, or are you forgotten that you’re my first boyfriend?” The curly haired boy just let out a low laugh.

“Your too sweet, never change.” He kissed her temple, Y/n turned to look at Jack with an arched brow. “You don't even notice the amount of guys who are half in love with you, even with you pregnant with my baby they couldn't contain themselves from staring at you like fools, even Urban who is my best friend is a little sweet on you.” He commented with a silly smile on his face. “It’s the way you are sweetness itself, a guy can’t help himself.”

Y/n laughed lightly.

“I'm so sorry I was such a bitch earlier.” She apologized looking him in the eye. “You were in pain.” Jack said understandingly, resting his chin on top of her head. “And it was worth it.” He ran his hand over his daughter's head. “Our little Isla Rosie is here now. Thank you, mama.”

They knew life wouldn't be easy.

Parenting at seventeen and eighteen wasn't simple.

Not everything would be flowers, and there would be days when they wouldn't know what to do, and sleepless nights.

They would make mistakes.

But there was no doubt that they loved that little pink package more than anything in the world, and they would do anything to give her the world. That was almost like a silent promise as they look at her the three of them lying in the little hospital bed like the little family they were.

#jack harlow #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow imagine #dad! jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n

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misteria247 · 3 years ago

Text

"Her name is (Y/N)....."

Who would of thought that one little sentence would cause such an emotional turmoil. Deuce and Ace could only stare at the small boy, unable to comprehend what they'd just heard. It was a name that they hadn't heard in six long years. A name that even to this day caused them to get a bit upset.

"Are.....are you sure that's your mom's name.....?"

Deuce asked a bit breathless by the sudden crash of emotions that was hitting him. Ace on the other hand was just stunned beyond belief, unable to really think of anything to say.

"Yeah I'm sure......why.....?"

Elliott asked with a small head tilt. Deuce sucked in a sharp breath at the movement, the head tilt being nearly identical to yours. Ace just shook his head still in shock.

"I can't believe it......(Y/N)'s a mom......holy-"

Ace muttered trying to wrap his head around it before realizing something.

"Wait......if you're here that means.....!"

Ace started to say trailing off before Deuce picked up on what he was saying.

"She's here.....she's back in Twisted Wonderland.....! She's got a kid too......!"

Deuce said in awe before his expression furrowed in confusion.

"But wait.....if (Y/N) is the mom then who's the dad....?"

Deuce asked puzzled. Ace took another look at Elliott before seeing exactly who the father was.

"I think I figured it out.....it's him....."

Ace said. Deuce first looked confused before it clicked.

"No way he's.....!"

Deuce gasped stunned.

"There's no doubt about it. He's practically a clone of him."

Ace nodded in confirmation. Deuce was about to reply when he was interrupted.

"Wait.....do.....do you two know my mama......?? And.....and my papa.......??"

Elliott asked not daring to get his hopes up with the last question. If Ace and Deuce knew you then from the sounds of it they knew his father too. If they knew who his father was.......maybe Elliott could finally see you be happy completely and finally get his answers that he'd been desperately wanting. Ace and Deuce froze at Elliott's questions, the boy's hurt elbow all but forgotten about as he tried to get information. The two men were at a loss. They had no idea if they should answer Elliott's question about his father, given that you might not want Elliott to know. Plus the last thing the boys wanted to do is be reunited with you and then piss you off with something like this.

"Uh.....we do know your mama. She was a very old friend of ours. As for your papa......"

Deuce trailed off not knowing what to say. Ace thankfully took over.

"We don't know him very well."

Ace finished. Elliott deflated at this, his green eyes dimming slightly.

"O-oh......."

He said softly, looking down at the ground. Ace and Deuce felt themselves fill with guilt for having somewhat lied to the small child.

"Hey we might not have the answers you're seeking, but we do know someone who has some of them. But first I think we should get your arm fixed up and try to find your mama okay?"

Deuce said keeping the child close to him. Elliott gave a small nod, wanting to fix his stinging elbow and find you. Ace just kept quiet, his thoughts racing. He never imagined that he'd ever see you again, especially as a parent and in a mess like this. And he knew that Deuce was thinking the same thing he was. With Elliott now in Deuce's arms the duo made their way towards the one person who could help them at the moment.

~~~~~

Elliott clung to Deuce, keeping an eye out for his mother and taking in the sights around him. He took notice of some of the people who were now slowly starting to fill the once abandoned campus. Standing under the shade of a large tree was a rather tall, nervous looking man who had long flowing blue hair that looked like flames. Next to him was what looked like a robot teenager, who happily chattered away at him. Elliott couldn't help but notice that they looked like the one statue he'd seen of the man with the flames for hair. Further along the growing crowd was another group of men who looked like their were business men. Two of them were incredibly tall and the third one was rather pretty in Elliott's opinion. The two tall men had teal hair and different colored eyes, almost like they were twins. While the shorter one had steel blue hues and wavy silver hair.

A few more groups caught the young boy's attention rather quickly. One of them was filled with beautiful people who looked like they belonged in a movie or a story book. The leader of the group was the fairest of them all, looking absolutely stunning. Elliott was spell bound for a moment before the other man who wore a funny hat turned towards them and caught Elliott's eye. The strange man gave a smile when he noticed the small child and waved at him. Elliott waved back hesitantly before curling up into Deuce's shoulders more. Another group had two men who looked like they came straight out of the stories his mama read to him with the genies and magic carpets. The shortest of the duo had white hair and was dressed in the finest clothes, a beaming smile on his face as he talked to the taller man next to him. The other man was more serious looking, his hair long and braided nicely as he just nodded along to whatever the other man was saying.

Elliott also noticed that they were holding hands, and standing rather close to one another. The child tilted his head in confusion, thinking about the Arabian princess and her prince for some reason. As the trio made their way further into the school they passed another group of men. These men had animal ears. One man looked like a hyena with blonde hair and mischievous blue eyes, snickering under his breath as his companion, a large man with unruly brown hair filled with braids listened. Bright green eyes just stared irritated at his snickering companion, a scar decorating his face.

"Oi what are you staring at?"

A growling voice came from the man with the scar. Elliott let out a gasp and hid into Deuce. Deuce meanwhile looked up and went wide eyed and Ace just bit back a groan.

"L-Leona Senpai-! It's been awhile!"

Deuce said giving a small bow in nervousness. Ace rolled his eyes at his companion, slightly jumpy with the sudden stop from their destination.

"Oh it's you.....Deuce and Ace. It has been awhile. Tell your cub to keep his eyes to himself."

Leona growled simply before leaving without even so much as a goodbye. It was quite obvious that he wasn't in the mood for chitchat. His companion gave them a somewhat amused yet apologetic look before giving a small salute and following behind him. The duo seemed to sag with relief.

"Oh thank Seven he didn't notice. Now we can finally get to the person who can help you-"

Deuce started to say only to nearly jump out of his skin at a terrifyingly familiar voice. Ace jumped as well at the voice going pale rather quickly.

"May I ask.....why do you have a child with you? You'd think that after graduation......you would have learned to follow the rules......"

The voice said sounding pleasant but at the same time it brought chills to the two men. Even after six years they still had a fight or flight response with this person.

"Ah you shouldn't be so harsh on them. They're grown men after all."

Another voice chimed in sounding much more relaxed.

"Ahhhhh-!!! Look at this cutie!!! I definitely need a photo of his cute little face!!!"

Another voice chirped before a pair of hands gripped Elliott's cheeks in a gentle manner. Standing in front of him and the A-Deuce duo were three men that Elliott had never seen before. However........they seemed to know Deuce and Ace rather well.

Something told Elliott that this might take awhile before he finally got to see his mama again.

*Oh my God I'm alive hello! First I wanna apologize for the long hiatus, things have been extremely hectic and I haven't had a lot of time to write. But I finally managed to get something done for y'all so I consider that a win!!! Also let's play the game of guess who was mentioned here in Elliott's observations and who are the mystery trio at the end of the beloved cliffhanger! Sorry if this sucks shdhdhfhh. Anyways if any y'all read this I hope you enjoyed it!!! And onwards to our tagging list!!!!! @genshin-idiot @ditsy-anime-thot @ctannth @reaperfeels @thatjessawall @simpformangas!!!!*

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doppopoppo · 3 years ago

Text

Bundle of Feelings

|| Uramichi Daily Headcanon ||

|| Warnings: married, minor cussing, angst, argument ||

|| Uramichi • F!Reader ||

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*💙

Silence.

Everything was silent.

The only thing that could be heard were the trees rustling outside. The curtains swaying softly and hitting the glass door. The fridge is running in the background. And the heavy breathing of two adults. Hearts pounding in their chests. Both afraid the other may hear their heart wanting to explode into a volcanic mess.

Otherwise, silence.

Y/N hasn’t seen her husband this mad since she last saw him interact with his father. Uramichi was red in the face, a scowl permanently settled atop his facial features. The way he was holding her hand, squeezing it tightly for mental support. She doesn’t even remember what they were even arguing about, as her father-in-law bickered about the most minuscule of things.

Today, however, Uramichi’s anger was directed at her. She had thrown out all of his beer and cigarettes. His wife was tired of having to deal with a drunk husband more nights than she wanted. Only sleeping when he was wasted and slurring out cuss words. The heavy smell of tobacco following his trail, making her scrunch up her nose in disgust. Coughing whenever she walks by as he puffs out smoke. None of these were healthy coping mechanisms. She genuinely wanted to help her husband figure out and find better alternatives. Healthier options. One that wouldn’t harm his health.

As a gymnast, shouldn’t he know better?

Little did she know, her actions would cause Uramichi to have an outburst. The most the two fought over what to eat for dinner, junk food or protein filled. He began the argument by yelling at her. Then proceeded to belittle her, what can she know? How stupid can she be?

She cried and tried to calm him down, but he wouldn’t listen. “It's for your own good!” Y/N sniffled, “why can’t you see that?” She was hugging her own body. Unsure if it was for comfort or out of fear; maybe both?

Uramichi sighed and rubbed his forehead, “I’m a grown man. I can make my own fucking choices for fucks sake, Y/N!” He’s never used such vulgar vocabularies with her before, this was a first.

She didn’t want to change Uramichi, instead help diminish the fire inside of him. The one his father lit and kept throwing gasoline at it.

“You won’t grow like this, dear. If you want a brighter future and to help your depression, we need to start fixing your bad habits.” She emphasized ‘we’. Because they were in this together.

Uramichi had yet another strenuous day at work, all he wanted was to drink beer until he passed out. His wife’s cuddles no longer lulled him to sleep. Her sweet whispers felt meaningless. Only cigarettes could help him calm his mind down. Yet, she still tried to reason with him. Saying bullshit about seeing a therapist, hanging out with friends more often, or going outside that’s not the gym.

“I know your fathers did horrible things to you. Such as forcing you into something you didn’t want to do. But you have to stop living in the past. Stop blaming your father for your future, which is your present now.” His wife tried to get close to him to bring him into a hug.

Enraged at her words, “Oh my god, I could just hit you right now!” Uramichi threw the nearest dumbbell to him across the room. She heard a vase shatter, the one that was a hand me down from her mother.

“What the hell do you know!? You’ve lived a nice and spoiled life, no inch of worries. No wonder you’re such a stubborn brat half the time.” His words were like a sharp knife cutting through her heart.

She bent down over the broken pieces of vase. Shattered just like her heart. Uramichi’s eyes and mind were clouded in red rage. He hasn’t realized he broke an important item. One that was personally given to them by his mother-in-law. The woman who entrusted her daughters happiness to him.

“Stop.” Y/N whispered. “Stop this right now!” She shouted at him. New, hot tears fell from Y/N’s eyes as she held into the broken vase pieces. She was in shock that her husband was willing to get physical over beers and cigarettes. This wasn’t what he promised to her on the day of their wedding vows.

“You’re no different from your father, Uramichi.” She stood up. “An abuser raised another abuser. I can’t have this cycle continue.” Y/N went to put on her coat.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Uramichi was irritated that she had the audacity to leave in the middle of an argument.

“Our child doesn’t need to witness what you witnessed your father do to you.” His wife glared at him.

Those words flipped a switch inside Uramichi. Child? But they didn’t have any children. Then it clicked, his wife was pregnant. Was that the real reason she wanted him to stop? Why didn’t she say so in a better way then? It was too late to ask her these though, because she already left the apartment.

The small apartment that used to be lovely thanks to his wife, now felt cold and lonely. The way it was before she came into his life. He took a look around the room and saw the mess he made. It might’ve been minor, but it left a big impact. Uramichi noticed the important vase he broke and ran out the door to catch up to his wife. Though she was nowhere to be seen. He sighed and went back inside and laid down on the couch. He screwed up big time.

When morning came, it was raining but the smell of food tickled his senses and woke him up. He slowly got up from the couch and went towards the kitchen. He found his wife in her favorite apron cooking breakfast.

“Morning.” She chirped. “I’m making American style sausage with scrambled eggs! Go sit at the table in the living room, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Questions ran through his head as he sat at the table on the floor. The broken vase pieces are gone, but so is the vase. Y/N’s eyes looked empty, betraying the big smile she displayed. He saw his wife bring the food to the table. He quickly got up and helped her. Likewise, he went to grab some additional items to set up the table for breakfast. Was last night a dream? No it couldn’t be.

The question was itching in Uramichi’s throat, he had to ask. “Why?”

Y/N looked up from her place, “why what?”

“Why'd you come back? I even broke your mother’s case.” He thought she walked out for good. He threatened to hit her. He vowed to never be like his father, and that’s exactly who he became last night. His nightmare coming to reality.

Y/N put her fork down, “Listen, we are married, way passed the dating phase. On our wedding day we vowed to love each other until death do’s us apart. It is both of our responsibilities to make sure the other is doing okay. Physically and mentally. You’re always there for me, dear. I want to be here for you this time, in what I think will help you. I’m sorry I threw out your beer and cigarettes without discussing it with you. I just want to see you make healthier choices for yourself.” she put her hand over his. “I found out about the baby after I made the decision a while back. It’s another reason now why I would like for you to stop, but the main reason here is you. This is about you and us helping you.” she stared at his eyes. “I don’t wish to change you, but help you. As for the vase, you can buy me another one.” She winked and giggled. “As long as we’re fine, it’s all that matters.”

It was a big change she was asking him to make. But he can take small steps. That’s what the couple decided on. To limit his alcoholic intake to certain days of the week. Same with his smoking. He didn’t have to quit, but he was trying not to be dependent on it. He has the strongest support laying next to him at night. Holding him tightly. Uramichi was truly excited to know he’ll become a father! He’s nervous, but he knew he’s not alone. He thinks about what he can do to be a better father than his was.

Author’s Note:

He needs a hug. And a raise.

Remember, who your parents are don’t define you. If something happened in the past, don’t let it define you and who you are today. It might hold you back from growing. Just remember to take care of your mental health! 💜

Enjoy!

#life lessons with uramichi #uramichi omota headcanon #big brother uramichi #uramichi omota #uramichi #anime x reader #uramichi angst #uramichi x reader #omota uramichi

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polaroid15 · 4 years ago

Text

Parker Luck

Summary: Two weeks after the Vulture-incident, Tony buys a parenting book. Too bad there isn't a chapter on Parker luck.

Read on Ao3 HERE :)

------

Two weeks after the Vulture fiasco, Tony buys a book called ‘Parenting for Dummies’.

He almost immediately regrets the purchase and hides it in a drawer in the lab, not yet brave enough to face it. Then one day he spends three hours squished against Peter’s side, listening to the boy ramble about everything under the sun while they adjust his web shooters. It hits Tony like a brick wall, and when Peter bounces out of the lab after teaching Tony a complicated handshake he knows he’ll never remember, he swears under his breath.

He shouldn’t be surprised, really. He had known it from that very first moment in the kid’s bedroom in Queens.

For once, denial has gotten him nowhere.

After his eyes ache from staring at the door Peter had disappeared from, Tony stands, stretches out a kink in his lower back, and grabs the book from the drawer before he can lose his nerve. Still standing, he traces his thumb over the word Parenting on the cover.

Retreat, his mind begs. Stop. Before it’s too late.

But deep down, he knows he’s already in too deep.

With a heavy sigh and a pressing warmth in his chest, Tony flips the pages to chapter one.

--------

Peter calls it ‘Parker luck’.

Tony calls it the source of his ever-increasing gray hair.

When Peter stumbles into the Tower covered in blood and delirious from a nasty hit to the head, Tony thinks he’ll pass out from the sudden weight of his worry. It only takes some gentle coaxing and seven stitches to make it better, but the unease sits in Tony’s gut long after Peter falls asleep. When the boy wakes up, he apologizes until Tony snaps at him not too.

“It’s the Parker luck, Mr. Stark,” Peter tells him, his head wrapped like a mummy on halloween. “It gets me everytime.”

Parenting for Dummies Chapter Three: Listen. “A nasty concussion doesn’t exactly sound like luck to me, kid.”

“Oh, well it’s not good luck,” Peter clarifies with a weak smile. “In fact it’s really bad luck. Exceptionally bad.”

“You’re killing me here.”

“Did you know that I slipped on a banana peel once? A banana peel. I was on crutches for three weeks in middle school.”

Tony’s worry melts into a hesitant amusement. He sits back on his stiff medbay chair and makes a distant note to invest in a better one. “That is pretty lousy luck, kiddo.”

“And it just keeps getting worse,” Peter says. “Getting bitten by a radioactive spider, crashing Flash’s car, or the fact that I spent homecoming destroying a plane while fighting my date’s dad.”

“I hope this Parker luck of yours isn’t contagious,” Tony jokes, but something in Peter’s eyes darkens. He leans back against the white sheets, chewing on his bottom lip. Tony thinks again of chapter three, of the subtitle that prompts to push at the right times, and takes the liberty. “What is it, kid?”

Peter closes his eyes and gives a watery smile. “Nothing, Mr. Stark. Sorry.”

And because he’s an idiot, Tony believes him. Something tells him he needs to buy Parenting for Dummies 2.

--------

When Peter saves a school bus full of third graders from a thirteen car pileup at the expense of his collar bone, Tony rereads his book, this time with a highlighter in hand.

He wishes there was a section on Parker luck.

This time, he’s less careful about where he reads. Pepper catches him one night, her eyebrows disappearing behind her bangs in her surprise. Her smile is genuine. “Is that what I think it is?” she asks.

“Maybe.”

“Oh God, please don’t tell me you’re pregnant.”

Tony rolls his eyes and dog ears his page before setting it aside. “I am, actually. And sorry to break it to you, but you’re not the father.”

Pepper laughs and sits on the arm of the couch. She runs her hand through his hair and he can’t help but lean into her touch. “This is about Peter,” she says.

His first instinct is to deny it. He feels vulnerable in a way he isn’t used to. “So what if it is?”

“He’s a good kid.”

“I know.”

“He’s making you soft.”

Tony scoffs, but doesn’t deny it. Not with Parenting for Dummies on his lap. “He’s stressing me out, is what he’s doing.”

“He really cares about you, Tony. I see it every time he’s over here.”

His body betrays him by the gentle swoop in his stomach. His mouth twitches in a smile. “I care about him too.”

“You’re a good example to him. He needs someone like you in his life. Especially after what happened to his parents. And his Uncle.”

And then it clicks. Parker luck. Tony’s mouth goes dry.

“I’m trying,” is all he manages to whisper. The book in his lap seems to increase by ten.

Pepper leans over him, pressing her lips into his hair. “I know.”

---------

It’s his and Peter’s fifth mission together.

Today, they’re going up against “the Detonator”, a crazed woman with an affinity for making bombs and setting them off in busy neighbourhoods. She’s armed with a team of rocket-launcher-wielding henchmen, and it’s taking every effort to keep the city in one piece.

Most of the block has been evacuated, thanks to Peter. Tony remembers chapter seven and shoots the boy some praise over their coms. Steve, who’s joined them for the day’s fight, agrees with clipped enthusiasm.

“Thanks guys!” Peter says in his usual animation. “These rocket launchers are no joke. Have you ever seen the movie-”

But whatever it is, it’s lost in the deafening sound of an explosion. He hears Peter swear over the com and Tony’s blood runs cold. Three blocks down, an orange fireball balloons into the air. Steve is already running, his shield tucked into his chest.

Tony shoots off into the sky.

---------

Peter thought they had everything under control.

Until rocket launcher man number 3 decided to explode the bank off 47th street, that is.

He feels the heat from the explosion before he can process what happened. It rips across his back and throws him off his feet into a hot dog cart across the street. Rubble and ash rain down on parked cars and their alarms begin to sound.

“Crap,” Peter groans, shoving away the dented cart and stumbling to his feet. His ears are ringing.

“Pete?” Tony’s voice cuts through the haze. “We’re on our way. You alright?”

“Yeah,” he responds, breathless. His shoulder aches. “These guys are not in a good mood.”

“You can say that again.”

The man who had fired the shot runs up the steps of the bank, bypassing chunks of concrete. Peter limps after him.

“Sorry man,” Peter says when his opponent’s back is still turned. “It’s after hours.”

Startled, the man spins. Peter fires a web to disarm him and it only takes one swift punch to finish the job. He webs him to the floor and kicks the rocket launcher into the corner.

“Kid?” Tony lands beside him, faceplate lifting and his hands reaching to grab onto him. His grip is tight on Peter’s arms, and Peter is unsure which one of them Tony is trying to comfort. “You still in one piece?”

Peter’s ears are still ringing, a high pitched whine that makes his eye twitch. His ankle throbs and he can feel warmth spreading down his back from a cut on his shoulder. He nods anyway. “Are you?”

“Better now that I see you haven’t been barbecued.”

Steve joins them as Peter laughs off Tony’s worry. He’s breathing heavy, his forehead streaked with ash. “Someone sighted the Detonator. She’s heading east towards the Empire State Building.”

“Of course she is,” Tony sighs. Finally, he lets Peter go. “Ready for a field trip?”

But just as he says it, another violent explosion lights up the street across from them. Peter stumbles against the force. Tony grabs his arm, and Steve his shoulder, and he steadies. Through the black smoke, a child cries.

Chest tight, Peter takes a step forward before he’s yanked back. It’s Tony. His helmet hides his expression, but Peter can tell from his stiff posture that he’s worried. That he doesn’t want to separate.

As if sensing it too, Steve places a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Peter and I will clear the rocket launchers. You go take care of the Detonator.”

“But-”

“She can’t get to it first, Tony. You’ll be the fastest.”

The crying continues, and Peter takes another step. This time, the metal fingers wrapped around his elbow loosen, letting him go. “You better watch him, Rogers.”

“Mr. Stark-”

“Don’t do anything stupid, kid.”

And then Tony is off, blasting off into the sky. Peter shivers against the hot air his exit leaves before turning to run towards the smoke and debris, Steve hot on his heels. Without hesitation, he jumps over the small flames and emerges on the other side, his throat closing up against the smoke.

The first thing Peter sees is the child, snot-nosed and hidden underneath the bed of a truck. His eyes widen when he sees them, a cry stopped short. “Spider-Man!” he yells.

“Get the kid,” Steve says. “I think I see our guy.”

And then he’s gone.

Peter doesn’t dwell on it, vaulting over a smashed mailbox and a stretch of broken glass to reach the kid’s side. He’s trembling, but his hands reach out. Trusting him.

“It’s alright,” Peter says, accepting the kid’s outstretched hands. “We’re okay. Do you know where your family is?”

The boy shakes his head, lip wobbling but obviously trying to be brave. “N-no. I lost them over there,” he says pointing down the street.

“Okay. No problem. Let’s go find them.”

He doesn’t give the boy an option to walk, but instead guides him to rest against his back. Small fingers lock together at the base of Peter’s throat, holding tight.

“What’s your name?” Peter asks as he heads in the direction the boy had pointed. Keep him distracted.

“Benny.”

Peter’s breath catches. “Nice to meet you, Benny. I’m Spider-Man.”

“I- I know.”

“Oh yeah?”

The boy’s head bobs against his back. “I see you on TV. And on the newspapers on the street. You fight bad guys.”

“I try too.”

“You’re awesome,” Benny says, and the shaking quality to his voice recedes.

“I think you’re the awesome one. You’re being so brave.”

“Brave?”

“Yeah, Benny. Even though it’s scary right now you’re still going.”

Benny sniffles. “Are you scared?”

“Nah,” Peter says. “I’ve got you to protect me.”

Against his back, Benny’s chest swells with a breath of a response, but before he can let the words lose a relieved cry erupts from their left. A woman in a pastel headscarf runs towards them, her arms outstretched. “Benny! My little Ben-”

“Mom!”

Peter maneuvers him to the ground and as soon as his small feet hit the ground he’s running. The pair meet in the middle of the street, their arms wrapping tight and their tears mixing. The mother’s eyes meet him from over Benny’s shoulder. “Thank you,” she says, every ounce of her emotion leaking into her words.

“Of course,” is all he can manage.

Once he’s sure they're safe and off the street, he deviates his attention to his coms. “Steve?” he asks over a private channel. “Where are you?”

For a long time, Steve doesn’t respond. Then just as Peter’s worry spikes the man’s voice fills his ears, pinched and strained. “By the river. I’m cornered.”

“Karen-” Peter starts, but Steve’s location pops up on his screen before he can ask further. He changes the trajectory of his swing and just barely avoids clipping his hip on the corner of a building. Then, to Steve, “I’m on my way!”

He finds the Captain in worse shape than he had expected. He’s hunched against an upturned car, it’s tires melted from the sheer heat of the destruction on the street. His shield is raised over his head to protect him from debris raining from the crumbling buildings.

Across the road, three of Detonator's accomplices are shooting the buildings around him, shrieking with glee whenever new glass shatters. Peter glides between the chaos before landing beside Steve. He scrapes his hands on the landing.

“Oh my god,” Peter says, flinching from another loud explosion. “What do we do?”

Steve grimaces, and it’s only now that Peter sees how messed up his leg is. It’s twisted at an unnatural angle, the material of his suit singed and still smoking around it.

“What the hell happened?” Peter gasps, feeling sick.

“It doesn’t matter. We need to get out of here.”

“Not with those crazy rocket guys standing guard. You can’t walk!”

“I can try.”

Adrenaline courses hot through Peter’s bloodstream. He peaks over the car and reassesses their opponents. “I can take them.”

“No. Tony said-”

“Tony isn’t here,” Peter argues. “Besides, I have my Peter tingle. I’ll be fine.”

“Peter tingle?”

“Be right back.”

“Wait!”

But Peter ducks out of cover, knowing that Steve won’t be able to stop him. He runs towards the one closest to him and hopes the element of surprise will be enough to take them down. It is, but barely, and now his cover is blown. The other two turn their weapons towards him and before he can suck in a breath, fire.

Peter swears and jumps high, the rockets whistling as they pass under his feet. They hit the edge of the sidewalk by the river, blowing it open and skipping chunks of debris into the water. Not wanting to wait for them to reload, Peter swings and takes them both out with a single kick. He lands in a messy roll, disoriented by the quickness of the fight.

“We’re clear!” he yells over to Steve, but even as he says it dread sits heavy in his gut. He takes one step towards the car before he hears it- a sharp release of air.

Fire blooms up at the base of the building closest to Steve, the crack of the impact enough to rattle Peter’s teeth and throw him to his knees. It’s the last straw. The building makes a horrible noise of grinding cement, like a scream, and Peter knows enough from experience that it’s close to collapse.

“Steve!”

He sprints to where the man is trying to limp away. His eyes find him, their blue shocking through the dust and smoke. “Peter. You have to get out of here-”

“Not without you.”

Before the man can object, Peter pulls his weight over his shoulder and makes it his burden. He wonders distantly where the fourth rocket launcher is and why they haven’t been blown sky high yet.

But then glass and cement falls down around them like rain, and Peter realizes. Because the building will finish the job for them.

“We’re not going to make it,” Steve says through ground teeth. His hold on Peter’s shoulder is bruising. “Peter, please.”

The building sways again. They have a couple seconds. Nothing more.

Then Peter sees it. A manhole.

“Here,” he gasps, dropping to his knees and tearing off the cover. Every alarm bell in his head is screaming, but it’s the only option. The only way they’ll both have a chance. “Go.”

Steve drops in, disappearing into darkness and landing below with an aborted shout. Peter kicks his legs in just as the building crumbles. Fear stops the breath in his chest and he slides the rest of the way in. He falls and lands hard, head spinning, before finding Steve’s arm in the darkness and pulling him deeper into the sewer.

There’s a couple moments of silence.

And then the world erupts.

Peter will remember later how the force of the impact threw both of them off their feet and how it was impossible to keep his grip on Steve’s arm. He’ll remember the deafening noise of the building smashing onto the street above them, of the great plume of dust that filled the tunnel and blinded him.

He’ll remember falling, his legs jelly, and struggling to his knees.

He’ll remember wishing he had called Tony.

But none of it registers in the moment. There’s only terror.

And then there’s nothing.

----------

“Peter. Come on. Work with me here.”

Awareness brings pain. He strays.

“Nope. No. Peter. Open your eyes.”

The voice belongs to Steve, Peter realizes in a stilted disorientation. Steve, who had been hurt. Steve, who sounds very much alive.

It’s enough for Peter to lift his heavy eyelids. His surroundings are dark, but he can see the Captain’s worried face swimming in front of him, warping in and out of focus as both of them release a breath of relief.

“Thank God,” Steve says.

“Are you okay?” Peter murmurs, surprised for a moment by how unwilling his vocal cords are to cooperate. There’s new blood on Steve’s face and the torso on his suit is torn.

“It’s you I’m more worried about.”

“Mm. Why?”

Steve might respond, but Peter doesn’t hear it, his awareness slipping like the close of a stage curtain. Strong hands shake him and the sting of his injuries are enough for him to struggle back into wakefulness.

“Stay awake, kid. Alright? Tony is on his way. Keep your eyes open.”

Peter didn’t remember closing his eyes, but sure enough, when he tries they open. “Tony?”

“He’ll be here soon.”

There’s a tightness in his chest, and Peter coughs against it. It sparks a sharp pain behind his ribs and he curls his fingers into the ground as Steve braces him by his shoulder. His ribs are definitely broken. His leg throbs and the skin on the right side of his face itches terribly with drying blood. He blinks a couple times to try and alleviate his double vision, but it does nothing.

“What happened?” Peter asks.

“You don’t remember?”

“Not really.”

Steve’s expression pinches like he’s just eaten something sour. “The building above us collapsed, but don’t worry about it too much. Tony will be here in a flash.”

Collapse. Peter sucks in a panicked breath and it makes him cough again. It hurts worse this time, and his vision goes gray. He comes back to himself in Steve’s lap, his whole body shuddering and then man’s hand clamped protectively against his back.

The new perspective shows Peter a growing red stain on the Captain’s side.

“Steve,” he gasps, uncoordinated fingers reaching out to press against the wound.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not- it’s not nothing-”

Before Steve can retaliate further, their coms crack back to life. Peter winces against it, his fingers reaching up to struggle with the edges of his mask. Steve pushes his hand away. “Leave it. It’s helping filter your air.”

“Peter? Rogers?” Tony’s voice comes through in a mess of static. It reminds Peter of Ben’s favorite radio station that had been broadcasted too far to have a good connection. “I’m here. Oh Christ, I’m here. Are you okay?”

“Steve’s hurt,” Peter mumbles. It’s important Tony knows.

“Rogers?”

“Just hurry, Tony,” Steve says. There’s a pressure in his voice that Peter’s too tired to translate.

“The explosion caused the river to flood. You’re under about three feet of water right now.”

“We’re airtight.”

“For now.”

Peter feels himself dip further into Steve’s lap and the man’s steadying hand is delayed. Weaker. “Peter? What did I tell you about staying awake.”

“What’s wrong with Peter?”

“Queens. I need you to put pressure on this for me. Don’t give up on me now.”

Peter groans. For once, he doesn’t care how young it makes him sound. He struggles up anyways and replaces his hand obediently over Steve’s side. It paints his hands red and he tries desperately not to think of Ben.

“Rogers-”

“I got it, Tony.”

There’s a weighted silence. Peter bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself lucid. The static in his brain reminds him of the time he had gotten stabbed, and wonders if he’s bleeding somewhere too.

“Okay. I found a weak spot. It shouldn’t cause too much damage. Are you ready?”

“Go for it.”

There’s another lurch of shifting rock. Peter can’t help but cry out, his muddled brain struggling to comprehend that this time, it’s to help. Then there’s a loud crash, a weak beam of sunlight, and the rush of water.

Within seconds, the cold spray is up to their waists. Peter grinds his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut against reflexive tears the biting temperature brings. It gives him a boost of adrenaline, and when he opens his eyes again, his vision is more clear.

Tony is with them moments later, hovering above the water. His hands reach for Peter, but Peter shys away. “Steve first,” he pleads. “He’s bleeding-”

“You’re bleeding too-” Tony starts, but even as he says it, Steve lists dangerously to the side. His face is pale, his breathing shallow. Tony catches him by the shoulder. “Don’t move,” he tells Peter, and works to lift Steve up towards the hole.

The water is up to Peter's chest now. It steals the breath from his lungs and he scrambles to stand. Somewhere in the journey the ground above him groans and he loses his footing. He hears Tony yell out for him, feels metal hands push him hard, and then he’s completely underwater. There’s more noise. More pain.

He breaks the surface, stuttering on his breath and his teeth clattering. More sunlight has entered the tunnel, and it’s easy to piece together what had happened.

“Tony!”

Peter fights against the current to reach his mentor’s side. His suit is pinned under a large slab of concrete by his left leg, the water already sloshing up to his neck. Peter practically collapses beside him and digs his fingers under the weight, but his ribs scream in protest so violently that his vision goes white.

“Easy!” Tony yells, catching him by his arms when he falters. “Kiddo, listen to me. The suit will let me breathe for a while. You need to get out of here.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“You have to. FRIDAY took some damage, but she’s recalibrating my boosters. I’ll be able to get out.”

“No,” Peter chokes, trying again to lift the concrete keeping Tony pinned. “I won’t leave without you.”

“Peter-”

“I’m not losing you too. I can’t- I can’t-”

Tony’s voice is more gentle, his hand reaching to cradle the side of Peter’s face. “Listen to me, bud. I know this is scary. But you have to trust me. You have to go. For me.”

Peter shudders. Feels hot tears pool under the tight confines of his mask. “Told you I have Parker luck,” he says.

Tony finds it within himself to laugh. The water is at their chins. “I know, kiddo. But you don’t have to be afraid anymore. We’ve got each other now.”

“Tony-”

“Go.”

The water rises over his mouth. He wouldn’t be able to answer even if he wanted to. Then Tony’s head is submerged, and icy terror closes around Peter’s heart.

He dives under and reaches once more for the weight on Tony’s leg. He pulls and struggles and feels Tony’s hands on his arms, trying to pry him off and pull him away. The light is gone in the murky water.

Please. Please.

The concrete shifts. It takes everything in Peter not to gasp out at the pain it causes, to waste the precious air he has left.

Please.

It shifts again. Tony has given up on trying to push him off and is instead helping to lift the weight. Just a little bit more.

Peter screams, tiny bubbles escaping and carrying whatever he had left away. His body loses strength just as the concrete is alleviated. He thinks he feels Tony’s hands close around his numb body. But really he can’t be sure.

Tony is safe.

And it’s all that matters.

-------

“Peter. Don’t do this.”

“Breathe, Queens. Oh God-”

“Steve. What do I- I can’t- I can’t-”

“Keep the compressions going, Tony. Keep going okay? Don’t stop.”

“I can’t do it without him. I need him, Steve. I need-”

“Keep it together. He’s going to be fine. Right, Peter? You’re going to be fine. You just have to breathe for us.”

“Kiddo. Baby. Please.”

It’s all water down a drain.

A swirling, murky mess.

And it takes Peter with it.

-------

Parenting for Dummies: Chapter 12.

Love them unconditionally.

Tony hasn’t left his kid’s side for hours. He’s been glued to him, the boy’s limp hand pressed between his own like a lifeline even when the doctor’s had worked to splint his leg. Every breath, every rise and fall of Peter’s chest is a miracle, and Tony stares at the heart monitor until his eyes burn.

May is dozing in a recliner in the corner, her glasses crooked on her face. It’s just nearing three in the morning.

There’s movement behind him, and Tony turns to find Steve. He’s traded his hospital gown for a pair of loose sweats and a white shirt, the skin on his arms wrapped with thick bandages. The Captain turns and sees May. When he speaks, his words are almost a whisper. “How is he?”

Tony shrugs, a sudden lump monopolizing in his throat. “He’ll be okay.”

“Has he woken up yet?”

“No.”

Steve sighs. He limps to Tony’s side, but still manages to keep some distance. “He was brave today.”

“If by brave you mean dumb, then yes.”

“He saved our lives. We both know that you wouldn’t have been able to blast out of there by yourself.”

Dread sits heavy in Tony’s gut, because it’s true. He would’ve said anything to get Peter to safety. His blasters weren’t recharging. Weren’t even close to functioning.

But the kid had been too selfless for his lie. Really, Tony shouldn’t be surprised.

And now every time he closes his eyes he sees Peter. Hurt, small, Peter. Jerking with the last of his energy to free Tony. Of going limp in the water, no more air leaving his lips and remaining totally unresponsive as Tony fought to return the life to him.

“I wish it didn’t have to be him,” Tony says.

“But it is. It was.”

“I know.”

Steve lays a hand on Tony’s shoulder. He’s too tired to flinch away from it. “Let me know when he wakes up.”

And then he leaves.

Tony runs his thumb over Peter’s knuckles. “Wake up,” he says. Pleads.

But with his usual stubbornness, Peter doesn’t show signs of waking for another hour. First his fingers twitch. Then he groans. His eyelids flutter and Tony nearly collapses in his relief. Soft and weary eyes turn to find him, and Peter’s lips turn into a smile.

“You’re okay,” he murmurs.

“You have no idea how angry I am with you right now,” Tony says, but any heat behind his words is lost behind his relief. Peter must see it because his smile only widens.

“You don’ look angry.”

“Furious?”

“Nope.”

“Enraged?”

Peter laughs, then winces. He looks down and notices Tony’s hand clamped on his own. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

“Well, the feeling’s mutual.”

Peter looks up. Tony tightens his hold.

“Maybe I don’t have Parker luck after all.”

“We’re breaking the cycle,” Tony agrees. He lifts Peter’s hand and presses a firm kiss to the back of his hand. Peter smiles again.

“Pepper told me you bought a parenting book,” he says, eyes drooping.

“That woman is nothing but a liar.”

“Mm. I believe her.”

“Sorry to break it to you kid, but whoever would want to willingly parent a danger seeking, heart attack inducing kid like you would have to be crazy.”

Peter squeezes Tony’s hand. “Sorry to break it to you, but I guess that means you're crazy.”

Tony’s heart compresses with warmth. “Yeah kid,” he says, “I guess I am.”

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#peter parker #spider-man #tony stark #irondad #irondad fic #hurt peter parker #peter parker whump #protective peter parker #bamf peter parker #protective tony stark #steve rogers #captain america

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twinklelilstarkey · 4 years ago

Text

Stopping You - Michael Gray [Part 11]

Words: 10.8k+

Summary: Y/N and Michael finally decide to talk about what happened.

Warnings: Female!Reader. 18+. Smut, unprotected sex [pls use a condom]. Cheating! Overthinking. A very slight mention of blood.

Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

“Oh, shut up!” You laugh out loud.

Finn laughs from beside you, laying on his back over Polly’s carpet as you lay on her couch on your stomach, looking down at the youngest Shelby brother.

“I would never do such thing.” You defend yourself, “Is that what you really think of me, Finn?”

Finn laughs with you as he stares up at you, hands resting on his chest, as he continues to assume how possible it is for you scare any girl that he’s interested in, away.

“Oh, please.” He says with a playful look on his face, “You would probably make her so many questions about her life choices that she would just run off.”

“Well, sorry if I continuously look out for you.”

The front door of Polly’s home swings open and almost makes you and Finn sit up by how high you two jumped from how it startled you.

You had been so focused on the conversation that you didn’t even hear the motor of a car outside. And now you two are acting as if you were caught talking about something you shouldn’t have been.

Polly walks inside the house, dark cigarette over her lips, and soon walks in Michael, following her every step.

“But why would he transfer the money if he didn’t need it?” He asks his mother, frown over his face as he closes the door behind him.

Polly shrugs at his words and takes off her furry jacket, leaving it by the hanger before taking the cigarette from her lips and exhaling a large cloud of smoke out of her lungs.

Her eyes move off her son, who has most of his back turned to you and Finn, and Polly finds you, almost falling off the couch from the strange position.

“Why are you on the ground?” She asks Finn, gaining a smile from the two of you.

“It’s comfortable.” He answers.

Michael looks over his shoulder and his eyes meet yours right away. Finn’s answer is able to manipulate a slight grin on his face, which hovers over his lips. There is no vocal answer on his part, just silence and a look of amusement.

It’s been almost a week since your nightmare, a total of 5 days to be exact. And Michael has been in Polly’s house for most of those days, mainly surrounded by work and nothing else.

You’ve questioned Polly about it after he left for the hotel and all you got as an answer was that he was trying to prove to Tommy that he can be forgiven. Quite odd, but who are you to question that?

At least 3 of the nights of those 5 days, Michael slept over at Polly’s. For a reason you do not know why, but it surely has to with Gina. You didn’t ask Polly about it, assuming she wouldn’t know, but honestly because it sounded wrong just to imagine yourself questioning such a thing.

Like said before, he had been working for most of his time over at the house, hidden in Polly’s office or seated at the dinner table, surrounded by papers while holding a cigarette between his fingers or lips as a way to lift off his stress.

You two didn’t talk much, but most of your conversations were in the mornings. Like the one after the night of the nightmare. They would end when his mind was somewhere lost in the papers and you two fell into the natural silence between sentences. You never disturbed him to keep the exchange of words alive, therefore, the talking of the day was done.

Michael and Polly continue their conversation soon after taking their eyes off Finn and you and, slowly, start making their way to the kitchen, where most silence of the house resides.

Their voices are low, but you can tell that they’re talking about work - something you’ve been forcefully pulled away for these past few days.

You look back at Finn once they’re out of your field of view and he’s staring at the ceiling, deep in thought.

“Who’s occupying your mind, uh?” You tease him, poking his chest.

He snaps back to reality and looks over at you, playful smile on his lips as he adjusts his head on the tall pillow.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He says back.

Your eyes widen at his words and a shocked expression twitches your features.

“So, there is someone in your mind?” You ask in a squeak, not controlling your vocal cords in a such exciting moment, “Finn Shelby, I cannot believe you.”

He stays silent, his smile just grows at your shocked and squeaky words.

“What’s her name?!” You ask in almost a scream, overly excited.

“I’m not telling you that,” He says, lifting and turning his head to the side on the pillow, “It’s none of your business.”

“Oh, Finn, come on!” You drag out your words for dramatization, “Can you just tell me if you two are dating or not?”

He thinks for a second and you just stare at him as he does it.

Seconds later, he’s still silent, slowly getting on your nerves over playing with your excited emotions like that.

“I swear I won’t look into it, just please answer my question.” You plead.

Finn sighs, slowly giving up.

“Okay…” He breathes out, “I am not telling you her name. But…” You hold yourself up with your elbow in excitement, “We are dating.”

A loud gasp escapes your mouth, and you hold in another shriek of excitement over his words.

His smile is just enough for you to believe that he likes the girl too much to sell any more information about her to you, but you honestly couldn’t feel any happier.

“For how long?” You ask, holding yourself up to sit up, unable to contain your emotions.

“I’ve known her for a bit. Been dating for like… 2 weeks?”

Your jaw almost hits the floor, but before you could even ask why he didn’t tell you before, you got yourself the answer. You would’ve gone all inspector mode to try and find any girl in Birmingham that is overly happy about a certain event.

Nothing he wouldn’t do for you too. Plus… You were in a hospital not that long ago-

“Wow.” You sigh, falling back to lay on the couch, “You were seeing someone while I was dying?”

A loud laugh escapes Finn’s mouth and bite in your smile to continue your acting.

“No! God, I was seeing her before you got shot.” He tells you, “Good to know that’s what shocked you the most about my whole confession.”

“I have to have my priorities.”

He continues to smile up at you, finding your words so amusing that he’s finding it hard to hold his chuckles every time you open your mouth to speak.

“Does Polly know?” You ask him.

“No-”

Before he could have finished saying the simple word you’re already out of the couch and running to the kitchen.

Sure, it hurt a little to do that movement so quickly, but you’ve got a great mission up ahead… Tell Polly the big news: Finn has finally stopped having sex with everyone that has a pair of legs.

Finn laughs at your excitement yet doesn’t stop you. Polly will know now or later anyway.

Either you tell her now or someone will, in the future. Or worse, her second sight might let her know of the news when they’re in an argument.

A wave of chills runs through Finn’s spine at the thought, and he shivers absurdly as a reaction.

Thank god he told you first.

You run in the kitchen and Michael continues his conversation, not finding any problem with you hearing anything he’s saying.

You wait beside them for the conversation to end, hands behind your back, swaying back and forth on the heels of your feet like a child waiting for her parents’ permission to go play outside.

Michael finishes and Polly gives him a quick answer. You don’t care enough to hear them. You just want to dump out the news at the center of the table.

“Do you have that on paper?” She asks Michael and he nods, “Go get it.”

Michael nods again and leaves the room, leaving you to stare back at Polly with a huge smile.

“What do you want?” She asks.

She looks down at the ashtray as she dips the tip of her cigarette down, yet you see her hiding a playful smile, probably finding yours contagious.

“Finn just told me that…” You pause to add some suspense, “… he has a girlfriend!”

Polly, right on that second, looks up at you with widen eyes.

She stares at you, analyzing every small bit of your face, trying to see if you’re joking in anyway, but she finds nothing.

“He has a fucking what?” She whispers in shock.

(…)

It has been a few hours. All of you had lunch together, which was filled with a whole bunch of teasing Finn while he tried to hide behind his hands and act like he only wants to stare down at his food.

And, of course, while that happened, you tried not to choke in your water or water while laughing so hard.

Now, Finn is sitting beside Polly on the couch as she tries to squeeze out of him as much information as possible. Michael is standing by the couches, packing his stuff up to leave.

You make your way down the stairs, just returning from the bathroom, and Michael looks over his shoulder at you.

“Are you leaving already?” You ask him, curious.

“Yeah. Need to go take care of something.” He says, being careful with his words. Polly has been too careful with pulling you away from work, Michael doesn’t want to be the one to break that lack of information.

He looks back to what is in front of him, and you notice three boxes of what you believe is paperwork related to the family’s business.

Polly and Finn are still siting, deep into their whispers, probably hiding any kind of potentially important information about his girlfriend from you.

Before you can even tease them for their antics, Michael says something.

“Could you help me carry this one?” He asks.

You nod right away. It’s one of the smaller boxes, the emptiest too. It won’t even make you blink an eye with any possible discomfort.

He piles the two bigger, and fuller, boxes and grabs them, their height only reaching up to his chest. You grab the smaller one, holding it on your hip. You help Michael with the door and leave it slightly open before following him to his car.

The silence between you is not by any means uncomfortable. It’s quite comforting, actually.

Michael opens the backseat door open with some difficulty and turns back for you to give him the other box. You do it and as you’re about to turn and leave, he says something.

“Wait.” He says, making you look at him, “I have something for you.”

“For me?” You ask confused.

He doesn’t answer. He closes the door and walks over to the front seats, opening the passenger seat door, hiding whatever is in front of him with his body.

Michael turns and you have to bite your tongue to not say anything.

It’s a small bouquet of flowers, most of them being wildflowers, your favorite. The exact same ones that have quite a history when it comes to the two of you.

You and Michael didn’t argue in your relationship, but when it did happen, and when he would be the main reason behind those same fights, he would give you flowers.

It was a rare occasion for you to receive them, but this type of bouquet is Michael’s apologetic bouquet. Always has been. It has all your favorite flowers arranged just like you loved, always in the same way to show off their vibrant colors.

“What are you apologizing for?” You ask and a small grin forms on his lips.

You remember them.

“The same thing as I’ve been apologizing for the past few weeks.”

You extend your hand and take the bouquet from his hand, ignoring how your hand rested right above his for some good few splits of a second.

You bring the flowers close to you, hiding any kind of positive expression, as you admire them silently.

“There’s a note inside. But you can read it later.” He lets you know.

“I will.” You say, looking back up at him, but this time, with a small grin.

He nods, small smile prominent on his lips as he does it. He looks relieved, probably because you accepted his flowers in the first place, but, also, nervous, almost like those same flowers are a ticking bomb of some sort.

“I’ll see you later, then.” You decide to say, breaking the intense stare down.

“Yeah,” He exhales, “I’ll see you later.”

To escape any possibility of another stare down, you turn on your heels and start walking towards the house. As you stand up the porch, you steal a glance over your shoulder, already finding Michael looking straight at you.

You offer him a small smile, different from the grin, and finally step into Polly’s home.

The sound of Polly’s and Finn’s voices fill your ears, and you close the door behind you, trying not to look back at Michael, who is still standing by his car.

The front door closes, slowly, and Polly lifts her gaze to meet yours, finding the slow motion and lack of slamming of her door so unlike you. You step aside into view and a gasp escapes her lips.

“Are my eyes deceiving me?” She says out loud.

“I’m afraid not.” You answer, eyebrows lifted, trying to show that you’re as shocked as she is.

She stands from beside Finn, who is as shocked, and walks towards you. She takes the flowers from your hands and analyzes them.

“Let me guess.” She says with a playful tone, “Another apology?”

You chuckle at her and she smiles brightly at you.

“You’re correct.” You announce, stealing a look at Finn, who looks amused, “Might have to write this one down as the official thousandth one.”

“I’m glad you’re keeping count.” Polly jokes with you making you smile.

She walks back to the kitchen to get a vase and you follow right behind her. Finn stands from the couch and does the same as you.

Polly sets them over the kitchen counter gently and looks around for the perfect vase, one you can later take to your own home, when you’re healed.

Finn walks up to the flowers and analyzes them silently, just like Polly. He brings up his hand and carefully pulls something out, a small envelope.

“I’m sure this is for you.” He says, handing the envelope to you.

You take it into your hands and hold it carefully close to you.

Polly starts filling the vase with water and looks back at you, staring down at the small paper, just the size of your hand.

“Well, open it!”

You smile at her tone and you do as told. Finn looks at you questioningly as you undo the top and Polly stops the water from running.

You take the small note from inside the envelope and put down it down. You unfold it, careful with making it face you and you only, and as the word meets your eyes, Polly swears she sees them brighten.

Meet me behind the barns tomorrow at 3. – M

(…)

With both Polly and Finn at work, possibly at a meeting, you’re left to stay home alone until 3. You’ve taken your time to get ready. You’ve done your make-up, nothing too intense, just your normal light look, and have gotten dressed.

A floral green dress hugs your body, nothing unlike your usual style. Not a suit, but something you would wear when out with Polly at your day’s off. And on top of that, a long dark coat, which covers your body from any cold wind.

What even is going to happen today?

You step out of Polly’s home, keys in hand and coat closed enough to protect you from the harsh wind meeting you as soon as you make your presence to the outside world.

You climb in your car. Poor thing as been sitting there by the front of the house for days now, quite sad.

As you make your way to the familiar location, Michael is standing by his car.

He didn’t expect the day to be so cold and windy, but like any other place close to Small Heath, the weather is just unpredictable.

He shakes his cigarette, letting the white and bright red ashes fly with the wind as they burn at the tip of the poisonous, yet addicting and calming, stick. His eyes are stuck on the gravel under his feet, heart ponding against his chest and with his hands shaking.

It’s like taking you on your first date all over again.

He’s just a nervous and anxious wreck.

The sound of a car door closing in the distance makes him snap back from his thoughts and look over his shoulder. You’re right there, just a few meters away from him. Your jacket is open, falling by your sides, as its material and your thin dress move with the, now, calmer wind.

“Sorry for being a little late.” You apologize and he shakes his head.

“No worries.”

He leans away from his car and walks to stand beside you. Your hands are stuffed in the pockets of your jacket, shielding them from the cold, and with that he takes your outfit in, finding the flowers in the fabric somewhat familiar to his gaze.

“Should we start walking?” You break his trance.

“Uh- Yeah, yeah.” He nods.

The abandoned barn stands tall beside the two of you as you walk by it. This is just outside of Small Heath. A small barn where Tommy used to have some of his horses, ones that weren’t exactly for racing. Maybe family horses… Can you even call them that?

Right behind the old structure, is a vast field. One, that for you to meet its true beauty, you have to walk for some good few minutes or well… get yourself a horse and ride for not even 3 minutes.

The green fields meet your eyes and for a second, you feel like you’ve lost your ability to breathe. The air is clearer where you stand then from whatever corner you stand in the whole Birmingham, but god, it’s breathtaking.

No sight of pollution, of smoke or even of people. Just peaceful green, tall wild grass, trees scattered through each curve of the irregular grounds.

It’s as calm as nature can be.

You walk beside Michael, both of you admiring the familiar grounds you step on, yet not opening your mouths to break such a comforting silence.

The sounds surrounding you are nothing but the patter of your feet on top of the grass, which is so tall it comes close to your upper thighs, the wind hitting the tall leaves and making them hit your legs, the branches of the trees moving and making the leaves collide with one another, and simply the wind over your ears.

Everything so silent it even makes your ears seem to vibrate.

“God, Michael, you are unbelievable.” You tell the man behind you without even looking over your shoulder.

“You were the one that had the idea!”

“And you went with it!” You say in a louder tone at him, “You’re supposed to be the one with the brains in this relationship, not me.”

The man chuckles from behind you, each of you riding your own horses as the sun shines on the two of you, marking and showing nothing but its natural beauty of the season.

“We can still go back.” He says, reigns resting by his legs, letting the horse move on its own.

“And say what?” You ask with a smile, “Yeah, sorry, Polly. The party was the most boring idea ever, and we had to walk out?”

“Something like that.”

You exhale out a chuckle and shake your head.

“Why did she even let the neighbor plan out the party?” You ask him.

You look over your shoulder to stare at your boyfriend and he’s already looking at you.

“She said something about wanting to give the woman a chance.” He shrugs, “Did you expect any less from her? She has been apologizing to my mom for the past year, this party was the least she could’ve done.”

“A cake would’ve done it.”

Michael smiles in amusement at you and you continue to look at him.

“You really think you can buy your way to my mom’s heart with a cake?”

“I did.” You say and he rolls his eyes. “And it worked.”

“It worked because you were already part of the family. And hitting my mom’s side of the car is not the same as what you did.” He says defensively.

“I think what I did was quite horrid, if you ask me.”

“I thought it was funny.” He smiles.

“Yeah, well, that’s because you like seeing your crazy family in distress and me in trouble.” You defend yourself, checking the field in front of you to see if you’re close to your destination, “Seriously, Michael, you worry me sometimes.”

A loud cackle of disbelief escapes Michael’s lips and you grin at the sound.

“You broke a vase of flowers on my cousin’s head! You didn’t destroy a whole side of a car!” He tells you and you turn back to him.

“Yeah! I know! But it still made me almost pee myself in fear when it happened.” You confess, finding it almost impossible not to laugh, “I could’ve had nightmares with what could’ve been my consequence.”

“God, you’re dramatic.”

You smile and stop the horse, finally standing by the usual area.

“No, I’m just realistic.” You tell him, “Finn could’ve gotten hurt, and if he did… I could’ve been dead by now.”

“Wow!” Michael chuckles. “You’re just… out of this world.”

“Oh, thank you.” You say, finding his words, out of context, funny. “But still… I feel bad for leaving.”

“Don’t.” He says as you jump down off your horse, “My mom won’t care, and Finn left like 2 hours ago. Nobody cared.”

“Still… It’s your birthday Michael.” You tell him, “You should be celebrating it.”

Michael jumps out of his horse and brings the reigns to the front, walking over to you with the horse just a meter behind him.

As he lets go of the reigns, like any other time here, he stands tall in front of you, not caring that the horse is moving away to go eat the perfect patch of green grass not too far away. You look up at him and wait for him to say something.

“And I am.” He says, “I prefer to stay here with you, then eat whatever was on that table.”

He presses a kiss over your lips, and you gasp.

“That is mean, Michael!” You say defensively, “That woman worked very hard…! And all night!”

He thinks of what to say next for a bit.

“And you still gave the idea to leave.”

Your mouth opens in disbelief at his words.

“You’re heartless, Y/N.” He says, amusement thick on his tone, lips twitching to smile again.

You scowl and smack his chest, hard.

“You little bitch.” You curse him out, making him laugh and take a step back from you.

The silence stays thick between the two of you, yet as soon as the wind lifts off ever so slightly, Michael finds himself being curious. He steals a look your away and notices you’re walking while staring down at the grass.

“You’re quiet.” Michael comments out loud, snapping you back to reality.

You blink your thoughts away and quickly lift your head ever so slightly, not enough to stare at him but enough to see how much you still have to walk.

“So are you.” You whisper back at him, soft grin on your lips, “I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

You look over at him, ignoring your overthinking mind that hesitates so much to do it, and to your surprise, he’s already looking at you.

“About…” You sigh stretching out the word in your lips, shifting your gaze forward once more, finding his eyes intrusive for some reason, “Old times?” You answer as a question, unsure. “The past few days have made me kind of stuck in memories, I guess.”

He nods, even though you’re not looking at him anymore, and also brings his gaze away from you to stare at the greenery at his front.

“That makes two of us.” He confesses.

“Really?” You ask, surprised.

“Yeah” He nods, again.

You nod, pursing your lips while saying to yourself mentally ‘who would’ve thought you’re not the only crazy one’, and, in a quick decision, you decide to blur out whatever is on your mind.

“Mine were actually about, uhm…” You hesitate, catching yourself and your urges midsentence, and Michael notices, bringing his gaze back to you, “That one time we both came here-” You sigh when lost for words and you shake your head slightly with a scowl.

Your discomfort over your own troubling thoughts doesn’t go unnoticed by Michael, and he decides to ease up some of it with his words.

“One time? Out of the thousand times we came here?”

You look back at him and feel yourself relax at his playful tone.

“Yeah. It was a quite special day, actually.” You add.

A full-on smile appears on the man’s face, pearly white teeth out to show amusement at your words.

“Again. Which one out of the hundreds of days like that?”

Your heart tightens at his words and you welcome them with a smile, shaking your head at his comment. Your hand lifts and lays over his arm, pushing him away from you as playful push for him to shup up such nonsense.

Michael looks down as the smile on his face stretches and a chuckle escape both of your mouths.

Your playful touch had been missed, and his body made it obvious to him. The way it warmed up and boiled after so many years of pure and utter cold.

Your hand falls back to your side as you two continue to walk in silence, eyes focusing on the path ahead.

In a simple matter of seconds, you find yourselves looking at each other, silently. Almost as if admiring one another.

“It was your birthday.” You admit, “The year before you left.”

“Why that one?”

You shrug, checking if you’re still too far from your destination.

“I don’t know. It just came to me for some reason.”

He nods and you steal a glance at his smiling self.

“Was it the amazing food that we loved so much that we had to run off?” He starts, “Or was it the amazing entertainment it was given to us throughout the evening?”

A laugh escapes your lips, and a weight lifts off Michael’s shoulders. How relaxing it feels.

“God, don’t remind me of that.” You say to him.

“Why? Is the awfully well decorated cake hunting your mind?”

Another chuckle leaves you and you roll your eyes.

“I see that you’re just as mean as before when it comes to analyzing other people’s hard work.” You joke with him and he smiles down at you.

“Guess so.”

Silence falls back in between you and you two walk calmly again, nothing rushing you to leave and get to the usual spot any quicker.

“What about you? What memories of the old times have been hunting you?” You jokingly ask.

“There have been a lot of them.”

“What was the last one you thought off?” You ask, trying to ease the question for him.

“Our first date.”

You snap your head at him, not expecting him to also confess that he was thinking of two of you, and he smiles at your reaction.

“Why?”

“I was shitting my pants before coming in here. Was scared you would bail on me. Just like I felt in our first date.” He confesses and you scowl.

There’s a silence of a few seconds before you decide to break it with your curiosity.

“Why would I bail on you?”

He scoffs.

“We both know the answer to that question.”

Silence.

Back to complete and utter silence, yet this time. It’s not as comfortable.

The sweet and loving conversation has died down with the slight indirect mention of how your relationship came to an end.

The patter of your feet is all you hear but also all you prefer to look at in this moment.

Michael steals a glance at you and notices the way you hesitate to look up.

He curses himself in his head and his smile is back down, dead, with no reason to come back so soon.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“No.” You cut him off, “Don’t worry about that.” You stuff your hands back in the pockets of your jacket. “We had to talk about that sooner or later.”

He nods and you look up, seeing him do it.

“We’re getting close.” He announces, making you look up.

Oh God, you missed this.

The fields look the same, just as green and still with small specks of color from the wildflowers. The trees seem to have gotten bigger and fluffier in a way, but they’re still standing tall and creating the perfect little hidden spot between them.

Exactly where you and Michael used always sit.

Michael notices that you had stopped walking after taking a few steps alone, and when he looks back over his shoulder at you.

Memories and all types of emotions erupt through your body harshly. You breathe in deeply, eyes showing the slightest bit of tears of which you can not tell if it’s either sadness or happiness to be back after so long.

Michael notices your different mood, yet he doesn’t understand what is going on. He turns to you completely, having his back to the familiar fields to check on you and his eyes are stuck.

Your eyes are filled with emotion, a soft scowl is written over your face, decorating it. Your body seems to shake slightly at the wind that seems to love to come back at unfortunate moments, and you’re just there. Standing and staring.

You break from your trance as something in front of you appears. You look down to see Michael extending his hand to you, face soft with a comforting expression.

You lay your hand over his, taking it out of your warm pocket and Michael pulls you in further to take steps closer to your destination.

You do as he does while your hands fall connected by your sides. Your eyes are focused on them, staring down as if to check if it’s real or just like in your nightmares, realistic, yet so far deep in your mind that it will bring you great terror in a space of seconds.

Slowly, you get closer to the scenery you had just stared in the distance, and you start to notice small details. There are not as many flowers since autumn is still very much present in this day, yet the place is just as warm and welcoming, still shielding you from most of the cold wind.

Your hand stays connected with Michael’s even when you stand between the familiar trees, neither of you feeling capable enough to pull away yet. Your other hand reaches and touches the trunk of the tree you used to always sit next to.

It feels so unreal that you almost have to pinch yourself.

“Feels weird to stand here.” You confess.

Michael steps closer to you and nods.

“It’s been a long time.”

“A bit too long, maybe.” You add and he agrees again with a nod, “We used to almost come here everyday before winter. I missed it.”

You look up to meet Michael’s eyes and their icy blue color meets your gaze right away. They’re soft, familiar, and comforting.

“Want to sit?” He asks you, eyes still connected.

You nod and he lets go of your hand, for your (big) disappointment.

Michael takes a seat next to the tree and lays his back against it, and you’re quick to follow him, sitting by him, legs to your side as you adjust the thin fabric of your dress.

Michael sighs and your eyes find him again, he looks nervous. More than you.

“I should be the one to start talking.” He whispers, making you tilt your head as if to signalize that you’re listening, “I… Uhm… I-I don’t even know where to start.”

“The beginning would be great.” You joke, gaining a playfully annoyed look from him, “Okay… Uhm…”

You think for a second. Would it be too harsh id you just asked it?

“Why did you do it?”

Michael holds in a gasp at your sudden and direct question, and you continue to stare at him. He notices how you’re analyzing his face, from hair to chin, from ear to ear.

You’re studying him intensely, trying to find the answer yourself in his features.

“It’s stupid.” He says to you.

“I don’t care.” You admit, “I just want to know why.”

He has said, weeks prior, that he did not know why he had done it, which did lead you to scream at him and throw a plate at his head.

But you didn’t believe him, not even a bit. And the fact that he is hesitating to say it out loud now, it’s just a clear reason that good things surely aren’t going to come from his mouth.

“I did it be- because… Fuck.” He comments mid-sentence, shaking his head, finding his nerves ridiculous, “I did it because I couldn’t focus at work.” He licks his lips, eyes still focused on you, “Every time you called was awful. I felt helpless when you would tell me that you missed me and that you were worried about me.”

He sighs and you look at him confused.

“I just couldn’t deal with it anymore. I couldn’t hear you tell me to be careful anymore. I knew I was going to get hurt at one point- It’s bad, I know it is, but I- I just couldn’t deal with your calls… They just made me want to come back home every time, and I… I knew couldn’t.” He confesses, stressed with his own words.

What the fuck is he saying?

“I started to worry about myself. I-I would panic because I was scared that I wouldn’t come back at one point… If I got too hurt or- you know.”

You stay silent.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He tells you.

Silent is set between you two again, and you, honestly, just want to hit him.

“You’re such a fucking idiot.” You curse at him.

He doesn’t say anything back, yet his mind is filled with questions: did I say enough? Did I say too much? Do I look or sound as much of an asshole as I feel like I do?

God, his words sounded so much better in his mind. Now it just all sounds like… He’s stupid, that’s what he sounds like.

You can’t believe him for a few good seconds.

For so long, you made yourself think so many awful things about yourself, and now you know you weren’t even the exact cause of the problem.

He didn’t break up with you because were too clingy or too annoying over the phone, it was because you were making him… be careful?

“What did you want from that one call?” You question, “And be honest.” You sound calm, surprisingly. “Just me to stop calling?”

“No.” He scowls at you, “I expected you to move along with your life. Find someone else.”

Oh, and the urge to punch him intensifies.

“I knew it would take time, but… I wanted you to find someone better, to just live your life.” He says sincerely and you continue to stare at him. “God, this sounds dumb but… It would be better for you to have someone in case I would never come back…” He sighs, “Does that even make sense?”

You don’t answer him, so he continues.

“When you stopped calling. I thought that’s what had happened.”

Calling after his final call, he means.

“God, Michael...” You exhale, looking away from him and shaking your head.

“It’s stupid of me, I know.” He comments to you, “I’m really sorry.”

His voice is small in the middle of your silence. It’s thick with emotion and you just know that he is beating himself for it still. For everything that he has done and stopped doing for the past few months.

His thoughts are degrading in every way possible. Michael can’t see a reason why they shouldn’t be. He knows you went through really rough few months because of him, now. Thoughts like his shouldn’t even be compared to something as small as a pinch.

You look back at him, yet your eyes don’t meet his. His gaze is focused on something in the distance, mind completely filled with thoughts you’re sure that you’re too familiar with.

“I’m going to forgive you. Not now, but I will.” You confess, “It will just take a bit of time on my part.”

Michael clenches his jaw, not really believing you for a second.

Is it bad that he doesn’t feel like he deserves it? He just gave you the most half assed justification and apology, yet you are still thinking about forgiving him?

Like, what the fuck?

“My ego is just too big for me to forgive you so soon.” You crack up a joke.

The slightest of curve appears over Michael’s lips, but his eyes still don’t go to you. You scratch the side of your neck and without him noticing, you shift to sit closer to him.

You look back at him before starting to talk again.

“Just so you know.” You start, “Your plan didn’t really work… I didn’t move on after… After you ended things.” You whisper.

His head snaps back at you and you hold a comforting look to welcome his eyes back to your own.

You don’t want him to feel worse, you really don’t want to. What’s done is done. Both of you can’t go back in time to change anything.

“You didn’t?”

“No.” You chuckle.

“Why not?”

“Fucking Birmingham men are disgusting.” You justify with a disgusted look on your face. “And I was already working for your family when I was feeling more… okay, so, I had to stay here, stuck with the sight of either saggy old men or just way too cocky younger men.”

He grins slightly at your distaste for the locals, and you offer him a smile.

“I am, supposedly, from Birmingham” He says, trying to sound offended, “And you dated me just fine.”

“Yeah, well…” You comment with a cringe and his grin grows, “You’re still three quarters a country boy, so you don’t really count.”

He rolls your eyes at you and you hit your shoulder with his playfully, swaying to force his stiff body to move a bit.

But, even with the playful mood and slight grin, he still looks hesitant.

“What’s done is done, Michael. The best thing we can do now is learn from it.” You tell him with a soft voice.

He just stares down at you.

“And just so you know, I should be upset at you. I feel like I should. And don’t get me wrong, I want to beat you up for being this stupid.” You confess, “God, you were supposed to be the smart one in all of this.” You add, exhaling your words.

He doesn’t say anything.

“And the reason why I’m not mad is that it has been a long time. I took a long time to heal and grow as a person.” You continue, “I just feel like all of that would’ve gone to waste if I became upset over the reason why it all happened.”

Still nothing from him.

“Blaming and hating ourselves doesn’t get us nowhere, you know?” You ask, “Especially hating other people. It’s just so stupid. Life is fucking shit. It is, but-” You sigh. “I don’t have to hate you for it, or… blame you for it.”

Where the hell are you going with this? Michael asks himself.

“You moved on, right?” You ask rhetorically, “Maybe it was meant to be.” You shrug, “Sure, it was a little harsh, but you found Gina. If you hadn’t made that last call to end…” You move your finger around to point at the two of you, “this… You would’ve been still dating me and not been able to be with her.”

Your words sort of hurt Michael. It is the truth, everything is true. If it weren’t for that last call, he wouldn’t have looked or thought of any other women but you.

No Gina, no nobody. Just you.

But is that supposed to sound like a bad thing?

His heart still beats for you, he knows he still feels for you. Every day that passes, it gets more and more intense. The same way his love for Gina disappears, yours grow.

It’s like his heart is pushing Gina away and open back the space that you once used to own and rule.

“What?” You question when noticing that Michael has been staring down at you and hasn’t said a thing.

“I still feel like I would’ve taken back what I did.” He confesses.

“And what about Gina?”

He shakes his head dismissively.

“She would’ve been fine without me.”

There’s a silence between you two again, and you’re just registering what has said and trying not to take it in a certain very biased way. All of that while he just stares at nothing.

“Where is she, by the way?” You ask curiously, “You’ve barely spent any time at the hotel lately.”

Michael scowls at thought about the fight they had in Polly’s kitchen.

“Yeah… We’re going through a rough patch, right now.”

“Really?” You ask and he nods, “God, you guys went from happily engaged to this in what…? A month and a half?”

He sends you a slight glare.

“What? It’s true.”

“What happened to not hate others? And that that will get you nowhere?” He comments and a smile grows on your face.

“Yeah, well…” You chuckle, “I don’t hate her. I just… dislike her. She was rude to me.” You smile at him, “But, seriously, I really don’t like her. At all. Like god damnit, Michael, I’m sorry to say, but you sure don’t know how to pick them.”

A big chuckle escapes Michael and you smile at him triumphantly. He shakes his head at you and brings his gaze back to yours.

“I picked you. For years.”

“Yeah, and that’s why that’s obviously the highlight of your life.” You say nodding at him, and his lips finally stretch into a smile.

Who knew insulting him would’ve fixed his sad mood?

You bring your hand up and hesitatingly, you lay it over his, letting your fingers find their way to the space between his thumb and his pointer finger, sliding into his palm and giving it a squeeze.

Michael’s eyes move to your hands and you hold your breath, scared that he will pull away.

His eyes slowly come back up to you and they’re as soft as you’ve ever seen them. He holds your fingers and brings your hand up to his lips, kissing the back of your hand softly.

You give him a small smile and he exchanges hands, connecting your left hand with his right so it’s more comfortable to him.

He intertwines your fingers, slowly, and his movements are the slowest you’ve ever seen them, yet they’re sweet. Letting your fingers slide and fall themselves in between his or yours.

“I missed you.” He whispers under his breath, making you look up at him again. “A lot.”

You grin at him and give his hand a squeeze as your answer.

You don’t know it, but Michael is biting his tongue to not apologize to you again. The urge to do it is stronger than him.

It’s like if he repeats it for as many times possible, you will eventually forget what he did.

He doesn’t want you do forgive him. He wants you to just forget it. Act as if everything as always been perfect.

“I substituted you with Finn, so I can’t say the same.” You say playfully, making his lips pull up again.

“I noticed. Weirdest fucking pair, I swear.” He scoffs.

“Jealousy is a serious disease, Michael.” You comment back, nodding.

“Could say the same thing about you.”

“Excuse me?” You ask confused, yet still smiling.

“You’ve barely had a full conversation with Gina, but you just told me you ‘dislike’ her.” He says, amused tone, “Sounds like jealousy to me.”

You laugh at him and shake your head.

“Wow! You really are crazy.” You say, making him smile, “Must have been the air in New York. Probably messed your brain up.”

“Stop” He pokes your leg with his other hand, “Insulting.” Another poke, “Me.” Another poke. “It’s not funny.”

“Then why are you smiling so brightly at me, hey?” You ask with as just as big of a smile.

You two stare at each other with the smiles on your faces and your heart quickens at the sudden change of atmosphere. Everything seems so perfect between you two. Gina doesn’t seem like a barrier between you two anymore.

It’s like old times.

“Are you still marrying Gina?” You catch yourself asking.

His eyes widen slightly at your sudden question and your smile falls slightly. You’re embarrassed at the sudden slip of words but it’s already too late.

“I’m not sure.” He answers.

You react shocked at his answer. What is happening?

Both of your hearts are almost coming out of your chests, it’s like they’re going to explode if a specific confession escapes both your lips.

“Why?” You whisper, your voice failing you.

“I don’t-” He thinks for a second, “I don’t think I love her anymore.”

You hold in a sigh and continue to listen to him.

“I’ve been telling myself that she has changed ever since we got here, but…” He pauses, searching your face for any hesitation, “I think she has been like this all along. And all that has changed as been that-” He suddenly stops.

“That what?” You whisper, almost feeling out of breath.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” He confesses, “I can’t stop comparing her to you. Or look at her and just… wish that she’s you.”

Your breathing is heavy, almost like you’re fighting the weight of a thousand stones on your chest. Everything is going on too quickly, but all you feel is relief.

“What are you saying, Michael?” You ask, voice falling into a whisper again.

He stays silent, almost as if rethinking about what he’s about to say.

Your eyes unconsciously lower to Michael’s lips and his smile as fallen as well. He’s serious. Your breathing has gotten quicker without you even realizing, and when your eyes go back to Michael’s, you find him doing the same thing.

“I love you.”

You stop breathing, shock erupting through your system.

“I never stopped loving you. Never. I’ve been lying to myself for all this time, trying to make myself believe that I was happy with Gina but I’m not.” He says, “I’m not happy with anyone else but you. Because I can only love you. Only you. Nobody else.”

He said it.

He said everything that has been troubling his mind for so long. He finally said it.

He said what you have been dreaming that he would say for the longest time. You almost can’t believe this is reality. Your body has gone numb, your heart is beating at an insane speed.

It all just feels so unreal.

Michael’s mind is going at miles a second, overthinking ever curve of emotion in your face. Every twitch, every slight movement in your hand still holding his, now more loosely than before.

What if he spoke too soon? What if he just… destroyed everything you two could’ve still shared. You probably don’t even think about him in that way anymore. All that could’ve been shared as just friends was all destroyed now with his confession.

The confession you have waited for so long and expected it to never be real. The confession of his love for you.

You take a deep breath, feeling Michael tense up next to you at what seems like a way to compose yourself into talking again, and suddenly you let go of his hand.

Michael almost gasps at the lack of your natural warmth against his palm and his heart begins to break, threatening to shatter with just a simple movement.

And then, you just bring your hand behind his neck and pull him towards you, letting your lips connect like the old times. Like the old times you have been visiting lately in your mind for this long and painful time.

It all feels like fireworks are erupting through your body, pinching your muscles and making them rise awake to reality.

You and Michael don’t move for a few quick seconds, but as soon as his lips move and his head tilted slightly to the side, you felt like you could cry.

His nose scrapes your cheek as you kiss sweetly and slowly, and Michael’s hands find their way to you. You gasp against his lips as his hands touch your waist and the thin, almost see-through, fabric of your dress does you no justice.

You bring both of your hands to his face and cup it close to you as he pulls you in to him with his hands. You sit on your knees, rising and your lips disconnect with the sudden movement.

You meet his eyes before you move any further and you feel like you’ve fallen in love all over again.

Michael pulls you in and you move to straddle his lap, his eyes run through your body, eyeing every bit of skin his eyes can lay on as you move, and your jacket opens naturally. You lean your lips to his again and he is the one to begin the kiss this time. His fingers dig deliciously into the ribs by your waist and your hands go up to his hair.

His hands drag from your waist to your hips and down your legs, rising your dress to finally touch your skin. Its warmth is so familiar and so calming that Michael feels like he could pass out right in that second.

You gasp as his grip on your upper thighs intensifies and you pull away slightly. There is absolutely no regret or shame in both of your stares, absolutely nothing. Michael brings his hands up and slides the jacket off your shoulders.

You let him take it off and he lays it by his side, a hand comes to rest over your back and in the matter of a second, you’re laying on your back on the cold but dry ground while Michael is hovering over you.

Michael connects your lips again and you smile into the kiss. His lips as just as soft as you remember them, and he still kisses in the same way. You feel like you’re in a dream all over again.

He pushes away and before you could even open your eyes, his mouth starts pressing soft and wet kisses all over your neck. Your hand moves back to his hair and he slowly leaves a trail down your jaw and neck down to your exposed chest, savoring absolutely every bit of soft exposed skin.

You pull down the collar of his blazer and he seems to get the hint, because he lifts off you, making your body erupt into shivers from the cold. He takes off his jacket and throws it next to you, and as his hands work down his waistcoat, your lips find their way to him again.

A soft inhale of air escapes Michael’s mouth at the feeling of your lips and he’s quick to take off another layer of his suit, not caring if he rips a button or not. He lays you back down and follows you to the ground, holding himself up by his arms and laying right in the middle of your legs.

You two smile at each other as soon as your noses touch and the sound of a soft peck interrupts the silence.

Michael is completely lost in the bliss of the moment, just savoring every single second of it. While you still believe you’re in shock with whatever is going on.

Months prior to this you would’ve passed out with just the idea of seeing Michael again, and probably even punch yourself if you knew what would happen later on, or now. But, god, you couldn’t care less, now.

With only an arm holding him up, Michael squeezes the soft skin of your thigh and starts layering the skin close to your neck with kisses all over again. You, impatient as one can be, lay your hand over his and pull it further towards you.

The dress falls to your hips and exposes your skin to the cold evening. Both of your hands play with the buttons on Michael’s shirt before being able to pull it off him and expose his chest to you.

He presses a kiss onto your lips again and sits up on his knees, pulling away from the kiss and staring as if to make sure this isn’t his mind playing tricks on him and it’s really you.

He discards his shirt to one of his sides, not really caring if it will fly with the wind and it will lose it forever.

“What do you mean ‘okay’, Michael?” You ask, confused, staring at the plain wall in front of you.

“I’m agreeing with what you said. Maybe it is true.” He says through the phone, “You keep on calling me every day-”

“What?” You ask, scowling, “I haven’t called in so long… You-you haven’t picked up any of my calls… Michael, I just want to check on you.”

“I am fucking working, Y/N- God. It’s always the same thing. You’re always fucking checking on me. I. Am. Fine.” He says with the most arrogant and angry tone you’ve ever heard him with.

“How am I supposed to know that? You’re almost across the world, Michael, the only thing I can do is call you.” You defend yourself, shaking your head in confusion, “We haven’t talked in months.”

“I just. I just want you to stop it, okay?” He questions. “I am so done with this. With you making everything seem like such a big and dangerous thing when it never is. You just keep on distracting me all the time. I need to work.”

“What?”

“You did it just now. I went to work today, like any other day. Stayed on my office, did what I was supposed to do. What Tommy ordered me to do. I just told you that I had someone on my office, and you got all fucking worried- like Jesus, Y/N.” He takes a deep breath, “This is my job. I need to do this-”

“I know.”

“You don’t seem like you do.” He continues, “You’re constantly asking and-”

“That’s not true-”

“But it is. Every time you call, it’s always this same thing… I’m tired.” He sighs his words at the end.

You stay silent for a few seconds, letting his words sink in.

“I’m… just worried about you.” You whisper and he sighs, “I- I didn’t mean to-to interrupt you or to make you mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

Tears well up at your eyes and a small shaky breath escapes your mouth, yet it isn’t picked up by the phone.

Michael stays silent as well, making your heart ache more by each second.

You blink your tears away and look up at the window beside you, letting the streetlights shine into your cold and lonely room.

Your bed is still made. The wind of the winter is still hitting the old windows harshly, making them whistle as they hold themselves together. But that is all you have, their whistle and the soft lighting.

Other than that, is you and your silence.

“Well, if I’m such a burden to you then maybe it’s better if we stop talking to each other.” You let the hurtful words escape your mouth before you could even catch them. Too late to take them back.

You don’t hear anything from the other side of the call. For a few seconds you believe that Michael had ended the call before you even said anything else, but his voice comes back.

His voice comes back and shatters the silence with the bitter truth.

“Okay.”

And after that, all Michael heard was the small and weak beeps signalizing the end of the call. Signalizing the end of you and him ever being together. Signalizing the end of your long relationship.

And the supposed end of your love for him and his love for you. Just… the end.

You tilt your head to the side as Michael continues to kiss down your neck and you close your eyes. Your hand is lost on his hair as you get lost in thought. Why does the memory need to come back now?

Michael lifts his head and looks down at you. The look on your eyes confused him and he pulls back to look at you.

“Is everything okay?” He asks, fearing the worst.

You don’t answer, yet your hand moves to cup the side of his face. He leans closer to your palm and your heart tightens.

He’s sorry. He apologized. He regrets it. He wants to take it back. Michael. Your Michael wants to take it back.

You pull him closer to you and you reconnect your lips with his. The kiss is soft all over again and the feeling is enough to push all those awful memories and thoughts away.

Your hands travel down his cheeks to his neck and lightly travel down to his chest and his stomach. Your feather like touch makes Michael’s skin erupt into chills from how soft and light it is.

“I love you.” You whisper into his lips.

He looks at you in the eyes and whispers his answer back.

“And I love you.”

Your fingers fidget with the button of his pants and soon unbutton it with a quick movement. Michael looks down at your hands and smiles, looking back up and presses a kiss onto your jaw.

He pulls away, and without wasting any more time or feeding more into your impatience, he takes a hold of your dress and pulls it up, exposing your underwear and your stomach. Michael takes a hold of the sides of your undergarments and pulls them down your smooth legs.

The cold air and the sight steal small, almost inaudible, gasps from the two of you. Another piece of clothing flies off to the side, which makes you chuckle slightly, and Michael smiles at the sound of your laughter.

You stare up at the tree above you for a second and you soon feel soft kisses being pressed at the bottom of your stomach. It has been long enough since you’ve felt something like this, yet it feels familiar, which makes sense.

It is still Michael. It has just been a long time.

“Michael,” You call out of him, holding yourself up by your elbows, “There’s no time for this, please.”

You didn’t have to say twice, because Michael quickly rose his body back up and pressed a kiss into your lips again.

There’s the sound of his zipper and soon the shifting of fabric and while lost in the kiss, Michael lays you back on the ground comfortably. His hand grabs into your leg and squeezes it softly, feeling himself lost for a second as your soft hands travel through his skin.

You gasp into the kiss as you feel him press into your entrance and Michael clenches his jaw at the sudden warmth touching him. You pull him close to you and Michael’s spear hand almost digs into the ground as he hides his head on your neck.

His other hand aligns him and slowly, he moves his hips towards yours. You groan lowly at the intrusion and he stops, giving you time as he doesn’t you to feel any kind of discomfort.

Your hand, that holds the back of Michael’s head, closes and he moves slightly again, moving in closer and closer to you, taking your movements as a hint for him to keep going. His cock slowly sliding into you, inch by inch, letting your warmth and wetness envelop him into its familiar hold that he so missed.

You gasp and he holds himself steady right as your take him all in. He lifts his head to check on you and his lips pepper your skin with soft kisses, some lost in his uneven breathing as he does so.

“You can move.” You whisper at him.

He doesn’t say anything, he lifts a few inches away from you and his hand comes back to your thigh. His movements start and they soon become thrusts.

Your soft gasps evolve into moans and Michael swears he’s dreaming. Your sounds are complete music to his ears, making them vibrate at the sweetness they carry, and, god, he had missed this.

Slowly, his thrusts start to accelerate, and your eyes force themselves closed. The way Michael’s hips hit yours and the way you squeeze him is driving the both of you insane. Your nails are digging into his arm as a small ball of pleasure starts to build up at the end of your stomach.

Michael lifts his arm and lays his hand beside your head. He eyes your body, still covered by the almost see-through fabric.

His breathing his loud and the sound of your bodies colliding with each other is all that fills your ears. His hand lets go of your leg and goes to your waist, his eyes analyzing your chest.

Michael presses a kiss on your sternum, over your dress and you arch your back at the feeling of his soft and warm lips. He clenches his jaw as the fabric stretches and exposes your chest to him, braless, nipples peeking through and appearing noticeable.

A shear layer of sweat covers the top of Michael’s forehead as the wind cools the warmth the both of you are creating. He lowers his head again and kisses you over the fabric of your dress that hugs your body so beautifully.

He looks down at where the two of you connect and a groan escapes his lips.

He, without any warning, grabs into your leg again and pulls up to your chest, letting another soft moan escape your mouth.

“Fuck, Michael…” You whisper at him.

He lifts off you and brings his other hand to your other leg. Still thrusting into your pussy, the sight as just improved to Michael, while you are lost at the difference it made to just rise your legs.

“God, you’re so perfect.” He mumbles at you, voice almost breaking into a whisper from his heavy breathing.

You throw your head back as his movements speed up and the pleasure in you intensifies.

After so long, it almost feels unreal to feel such emotion. It is more than pleasure, it’s an explosion of emotions.

All of those same emotions have been bottled up at the back of your mind and long forgotten, almost as if you had dismissed them because you didn’t believe you would ever feel them ever again.

But they are back and you’re feeling them at such a rate that you feel like tears are starting to well up in your eyes, blurring your vision.

You’ve probably thought this a thousand times, but, god, it feels like you’re dreaming. You pray that this won’t end in any way close to how your dreams usually do, but in a way, you’re not worried.

You don’t fear a bad ending in this, you don’t feel scared or anxious. You feel good. You feel happy and loved. Loved by someone who has shown way more love to you than any other person.

Someone you would vow to never stop loving if it meant that he will never leave your side. Someone that has never belonged to someone the same way he has belonged to you. No matter who has or will come in between you, you know the truth and you believe that it is the truth.

He loves you. He hurt you, but he loves you. He showed he was sorry, he apologized- Jesus, he saved your life. He didn’t let you die in his arms. He cried and feared your death right when you were bleeding a puddle into the ground.

Michael belongs to you and nobody else. He knows it, and he has told that himself that many times before. Now more than ever.

He belongs to you and you belong to him. And that is just how it is, and how it always will be.

A/N.: I am not going to lie... I cried when proofreading Michael’s confession about his feelings. I’m such a cry baby, god.

[Sorry that the apology part was so shit. I, myself, struggled with justify that shit and got myself annoyed with it.]

Taglist: @ohhersheybars @woodland-mist @onlythechicagoway @soleil-dor @finn-shelbys-bulldog @oh-theres-a-woman @peakyxtommy @ms-reader @beautycinders @lovemissyhoneybee @graceedwards @jadesbabylon @marvelismylifffe @a-dorky-book-keeper @peakascum @shanetoo @hufflemendes @cherrytop02 @http-cherries @burnitup @livingforbarnes @iccyyyybitch @ravennaofasgar @carezzesuigraffi @fernweh-fangirl @hufflepeople @huskyhunny @desertgremlin @fireawayxx @lemur46 @sugarcoated-lame @i-sneeze-to-appease @gabytodd @cococola-cocaine @namelesslosers @dibs-on-mikey @lreincarnationl @lil-hungryy @7shadesofharold @sh4desofsadness @fairyofvoid @kennastyles

If you’d like to be apart of the taglist, let me know.

Hope you enjoyed this! If would like to make any questions about the characters or when the next part will be available. My ask box is always open.

#michael gray x reader #michael gray imagine #michael gray imagines #michael gray #finn shelby #finn cole x reader #finn cole imagine #finn cole imagines #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders imagines

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buckyownsmylife · 4 years ago

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sunlight sunset - andy barber smut

The one where Andy throws you a baby shower and you thank him after.

Warnings: smut (p in v), masturbation (f), dirty talk, probably a little bit of daddy kink, pregnancy, the misconstruct of gender that I tried to avoid by referring to biological sex only, curse words, dirty talk

A/N: this was requested by 🤰 anon and it turned out to be much fluffier than any smut I’d ever written previously. Also, I ended up changing the idea of the reader’s “thank you”, I don’t really know why, but I just figured Andy would be in really soft mindset after a baby shower 🤷‍♀️ Also, this is sort of a part two to this fic

Andy’s P.O.V.

“Shh, everyone! I think I hear her!” All around me, the sound of conversation suddenly dulled, people trying to make themselves smaller to fit behind furniture or walls and I had to cough to hide a laugh, but truly, it was just sweet. There weren’t many people in my apartment, Y/N didn’t have a lot of friends she cared enough to let them be a part of her pregnancy, and I still hadn’t managed to get her father to accept the idea of his baby girl having a baby, but at least her mom was here and Jacob was too.

“Do you think she’ll like it?” My son asked me, fingers absentmindedly playing with a blue balloon while his eyes remained trained on the door, waiting for her to burst through. I knew he was hoping for a little boy, someone he could help shape and not worry about, but I was rooting for a baby girl despite not having the guts to admit it to my girlfriend. I could just perfectly see it, me and her, raising this little version of her together, and she’d be loud and opinionated and the best parts of both of us and I just loved her already.

I knew it was a girl. I just knew it. I felt it deep in my gut, every night when I talked to Y/N’s still barely-there belly. But I let her and Jacob believe it was a boy. That was just something I kept to myself and my unborn child, the secret that would come out tonight.

“I sure hope so,” I muttered, trying to look unworried but probably failing. It’s just, Y/N had been having such a hard time lately, between telling her parents about the pregnancy, moving in with me, telling Jacob and her friends and it was just a whirlwind of emotions for us both, but of course, it hit her harder than me. She was the one dealing with the body changes and the misconceptions that people had about the nature of our relationship. I just wanted this one experience to show her how this pregnancy wasn’t all stress and tears.

But of course, I should have known better.

“Surprise!” Everyone shouted when the door opened, a surprised Y/N covering her mouth as she took in the balloons, her friends, the cake and me. And then, as if on cue, she burst into tears.

I shouldn’t have expected any different, really. After the first initial shock wore off, I found myself chuckling as I beckoned my sobbing girlfriend into my arms, delighted to have her warm body to squeeze again.

“Baby, don’t cry… This is supposed to be a nice thing!” It only made her cry harder, clutching at my shirt as I couldn’t control my amusement, trying to get her to separate from me just enough so I could cradle her face.

“It is nice! It’s so nice… I don’t deserve you, Andy.” The thought was so absurd to me that a fucking snort came out as I grazed her cheekbones with my thumbs. God, she was beautiful. And mine. All mine.

“Oh, please, sweetheart. If anything, I’m the one who’s unworthy of you.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

The utter stupidity of the statement had me gasping, and then promptly slapping one of the arms with which he was holding me. “Don’t be an idiot. You’re too intelligent for that.” That earned me one of those hearty laughters that started from the depths of his chest and that warmed me to my very core, leaving my face burning. God, how I loved this man. And how I loved to be the reason for his laughter.

“C’mon, princess. Let’s open that envelope. I’m dying to know what we’re expecting.” Oh, right. As if on cue, my hands started sweating and my heartbeat picked up, the anxiety about knowing our child’s biological sex finally hitting. I was hoping for a boy, but I knew he wanted a girl. As much as he tried to hide it, I could just read right through his expectant face.

With shaky hands, I reached into my purse and pulled out the little red envelope that the doctor had given me. At first, I thought it was weird that Andy had decided to skip this one appointment, since he was so enthusiastic about being a part of everything, but now, as I stared at the balloon and the familiar faces of my friends, it made sense.

“Can I open it?” He asked, almost too quietly, large palm turned up as he waited for my reaction. I didn’t need to think about it, immediately dropping the paper in his hand, almost laughing at how ridiculously small it looked with him holding it. “Here we go.”

I knew all around us, everyone was waiting to hear the single word contained in that note, excitement barely concealed as the air around us felt electrified with it. But I couldn’t even care. At the most, I noticed my mom and Jacob holding hands not that far from where I stood with Andy, and the image made me smile right as my boyfriend’s face lit up like a christmas tree when he processed the doctor’s ruling.

“A girl. It’s a girl. We’re having a girl!” He darted into my arms and behind me, I felt as someone else - most likely Jacob - hugged me too. They were followed by each and every person in the room, until there was no one else to congratulate me on the news. We ate cake, talked and then, one by one, everyone left, and it was only Andy and me.

When I turned to look at him, after seeing the last visitor out, it was only to find his darkened, lust-filled eyes staring right at me as he sized me up, his hands in his pockets and the sweetest cockiest smirk on his lips.

“Come here, baby.” There was no hesitation, I didn’t even think before I moved in his direction. As I approached, he sat on the couch behind him, hands beckoning me closer and closer, until I was just close enough that he could easily pull me to straddle his legs.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he whispered as he nuzzled his bearded face against my neck, tickling me while making my pussy throb at the same time. A shiver of pure desire ran up my spine, right as I started to unconsciously grind my crotch over his, already desperate for a release.

“I-I’m thinking…” I tried, only to stop in a gasp as Andy suddenly seized my waist, forcing my movements to gather some speed. The friction was nothing like what I truly wanted, but it was just enough to make me whimper for my boyfriend’s wonderful touch.

Andy’s P.O.V.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” I urged, knowing that I was teasing her and knowing that she knew, especially since I couldn’t keep the smirk off of my face. “If you tell me what you want, I might give it to you.”

It was an offer she couldn’t resist, I knew even before I whispered it in her ear, but as I kept stimulating her body and she didn’t find a way to stop me, instead of finally confessing what was going through her mind, what I got was an exasperated, “Stop doing that! I don’t wanna cum yet!”

It made me laugh and decide that I definitely wouldn’t be stopping any time soon, so I opted to suck on one of her earlobes, appreciating the little shiver that she tried to hide before asking, “Why not?”

She hesitated for a second, but I couldn’t tell if it was because she wanted to hide it or if she simply still couldn’t gather her thoughts enough to voice them, although the way her fingers were buried in my shoulders made me think the last option was more probable. At last, she admitted right right before throwing her head back and whining, “Because I want to be the one pleasing you.”

She was heaving now, delicious breasts bouncing before me and just begging to have my mouth wrapped around one nipple, but her confession felt so silly I ended up laughing and capturing one of them between my fingers, instead.

“Can’t you feel what seeing you like this does to me?” I asked, making sure to raise my hips so there was no denying the hard line of my cock against her cunt. “I’m sorry you don’t feel like cumming, princess, because that’s exactly what you’re going to do. So just relax and accept it.”

It didn’t take long for her to cum after that, and I took in every beautiful second of the perfect image as her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her hips seemed to take a rhythm of their own.

“That’s my girl,” I cooed softly as I watched her slowly come back to me, eyes blinking lazily to look up at me from under her eyelashes with an expression that was simply sinful. “Can you open this for me, baby girl?” I asked as my hands remained occupied with holding her up, gesturing towards my own crotch, but it felt unnecessary when her hands immediately flew down to rub the boner I’d been sporting for quite a while.

“Yes, princess. Can you get my cock out, please? I really need to be inside of you now,” I confessed, nose rubbing over the soft skin of her neck as her small hands expertly unzipped my pants and I raised my hips up just enough so she could wrap her fist around my member and pull it from its confines.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Nothing felt quite as good as having my hand wrapped around Andy’s cock, knowing it would be inside of me, making me whole in just a few seconds. And knowing that he was giving me the control to grab it and put it in me myself just had me excited like nothing else.

“You’re not wearing any underwear,” I noted, raising myself just enough to rub the head of his member against my lower lips. The action had him grunting before groaning in frustration, grip in my ass tightening in a sort of warning.

“No, I figured it’d be easier this way. Didn’t anticipate you being such a tease, though.” The grumpy tone of his voice made me giggle, and I slowly lowered myself down on his hard cock, moaning out loud and holding my own breasts as he hissed to the feeling of my pussy squeezing him.

“You feel so fucking good.” Just the hoarseness of his voice had me whining, even before he used the grip on my ass to make me start riding him. “You make me feel so good, baby girl. No one can make me feel as good as you do.”

Only this man could have me simultaneously melting from his sweetness while cumming on his dick while he pounded me from the bottom. “I wish I could keep you right here, sweetheart. Right here, sitting on my dick, all day, everyday.”

I saw the way his eyes never left my bouncing breasts, and when he licked his lips with an expression of pure hunger, I came, knowing I was bringing him with me when he let out a high-pitched moan and picked up his pace.

“Fuck, I’m yours, princess. I’m yours. Thank you for giving me our little family. I love you.” Grabbing his hand to give a kiss to his knuckles, I took a second to appreciate just how incredible this man was. Despite how hard this could be, I knew I’d never regret having him beside me.

#andy barber smut #my fics #andy barber #smut #andy barber reader #andy barber x reader #andy barber reader insert #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber fan fiction #andy barber oneshot #andy barber writing #andy barber writings

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inknopewetrust · 4 years ago

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A Little Chaos

Summary: A thief finds herself at the center of the kidnapping of two girls and has the attention one very attractive detective.

Pairing: Detective Loki x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Criminal activity, flirting, sexual references, brief choking, probably 16+ based on content but no explicit smut. A mention of pedophilia but nowhere near in detail.

A/N: I don't think I've ever written something like this and can I just say that I really loved it!? So, I really hope you all do too! Requests are currently CLOSED but I hope to open them soon again and with new characters to add to my list. Check out my Masterlist for all other works. Thanks so much for requesting this @mrs-blooooom! I just loved the idea so much and thanks for being so kind about all the delays!

One - pick the lock

Two - lift up the screen and frame as quietly as possible but make absolutely no rough work of it.

Three - slip on the shoe covers and assess the gloves before entering through the window.

Four - get to work.

That was always the structure, no questions asked. Though, you noticed the news beginning to trace your patterns. You had made a hit in another neighborhood two weeks ago and because the news began reporting the patters, you were sure the police weren’t far behind.

And perhaps on that particular Thanksgiving, you shouldn’t have done another–or picked that house, rather.

Detective David Loki had a million different things running through his mind on a daily basis. When a case such as the Dover-Birch one stuck itself in the middle of an already pending investigation of burglaries in the Conyer’s area, he had a hunch of who he would investigate first. But he couldn’t get to that immediately because Keller Dover convinced him and his superiors that the RV belonging to Alex Jones was the first and only way to go.

But even after interrogating the man who had a child-like innocence to him, David Loki was convinced there was something more to the story. There had to have been a connection to who burglarized the Dover’s that same night and where the girls could be... he was certain, but then he wasn’t because he wasn’t sure you were the kind of person who would kidnap two innocent girls.

On a particularly slow Tuesday, no new leads had come in and the investigation had stalled because Alex Jones had now gone missing without a trace. Although he was doing everything he could, Loki was far from finding a solution and decided to take the initiative into his own hands and dive into the file he had been working on for nearly five months–the one into you and your less-than-stellar activities. The post-it note sticking out of the side of the manilla folder contained an address to an apartment in the center of town. He plucked it out, tucked it into his pocket and walked straight out of the station.

You weren’t worried about being considered a suspect in the kidnapping of two girls. You had no connection to the Dover’s, Birches’, or the Jones’, as well as no connection to the scene of the crime. You were always careful, and the Dover’s had no security cameras. So, when your comm buzzed in the middle of the day, you weren’t expecting it to be the police.

“Hello?”

“Ms. L/n? This is Detective Loki with the Conyer’s Police Department. I have a few questions I would like to ask you.” The voice was cackled with the circuited communication buzzer but you heard the man loud and clear. You also knew exactly who that was.

Detective David Loki was an infamous creature of Conyers. One day he just seemed to sprout out of nowhere and into the public sphere, but you had known him for a while. You were never friends, and you were sure until now he didn’t even know your name, but he was the star pupil of the town. And the spotlight he was in, he absolutely hated it. Every time his picture appeared in the paper or when he had to speak on the television relayed that message and you laughed in pity. The poor man just wanted to do his job and that was one part he didn’t sign up for.

“Can I ask what this is regarding?”

“The investigation into Joy Birch and Anna Dover. I just have a few questions I’d like to ask you if you would step-”

“I’ll buzz you up.” You pressed the button and unlocked the door, opening it just enough for you to rest on the frame with one arm on the door and the other on your hip.

Another thing you knew about Detective David Loki was that he was one of the most attractive people you had ever laid eyes on. The man was a walking dream but unfortunately, on the other side of the law which was far from promising when it came to your vivid imagination.

“How nice of you to not barge into my home, Detective.” You called out to him as he appeared on the steps landing just down the hall from your door. Loki gave no smile but shoved an orange post-it into his jacket as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“This surely won’t take long.”

With a nod you moved away from the door, shutting it closed behind you. With the sudden and unexpected presence of this man who was a fine line between formal detective and loose cop, there was an urge to be exactly the opposite of what he wanted you to be. He had been trailing you for just enough time to learn patterns in your life, the people you associate with, the fact that you had a degree and a decent job. You had an apartment to call your own, a car that wasn’t stolen and yet you continued to break into people's homes and steal curious objects for what? Consignment sales? He wasn’t sure. But you weren’t going to give him the answers he was looking for. You enjoyed the life you built for yourself...even if you had to steal and sell things to arrive at ends meet to pay for everything in your life.

“So... what can I do for you?”

“Can you recall where and what you were going on the night of Thursday, November 28th?”

“Thanksgiving?” You asked with a raised brow and he nodded. Loki pulled out no notebook to take notes, rather he watched every movement. He was trying to identify guilt, but you were a casual sleuth. It wasn’t a game he was used to because all of his suspects eventually gave in.

“I got up around 8:30, maybe 9 and ate some breakfast, um I-” You took a seat on the arm of your couch, running a hand over your mouth trying to “remember” what exactly you were doing a few days ago.

“-took a shower and then got started on my dish to pass at my parents dinner. I made sweet potatoes and stuffing-or dressing... I don’t know what you call it.” Loki was far from amused that you were making this appear less than serious. He couldn’t let himself believe that you were stupid enough to believe he wasn’t there on behalf of the story that captured the attention of the entire nation, so he didn’t believe a word you said.

“When that was done I got ready, did my makeup, and headed out to my parents where my sister and her family were meeting us to have dinner. Then I left their house around 7-ish and came home.”

“After dinner you went straight home?”

“Yes.”

You looked at him with an unfazed gaze which he met but didn’t buy. It was a game. A cat and mouse game that he wasn’t willing to bite into but it was too late, you already had him on a string. Loki would be lying if he didn’t find you attractive, even in the slightest. You were a beautiful woman, and it was because of how you looked that you’ve never been caught. You always covered every inch of your body and you looked unassuming. You had a perfectly pristine house, looked like someone who didn’t need to steal to live but then again, most of the time, all the people who do steal never look like they would because that is what people are taught not to look for.

“I made some phone calls late last week and someone in your family spilled that you weren’t there. In fact, you haven’t been to a family holiday since you graduated college nearly ten years ago. Bad relationship?”

“I can assure you–whoever you talked to, they weren’t there. I was there. I can tell you what I wore, what I ate, what was on the T.V. and what color shoe my nephew was wearing that day.”

“Those could just be good guesses?” Loki let his eyes wander around the small living space. He looked at the picture frames, the vases, the bins, the T.V. stand, everything that could have screamed “out of place” to him but nothing did.

“You didn’t happen to pass two little girls on your drive home, did you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Two girls. I’m sure you’ve seen their picture on the news.” Loki pointed to the T.V. at first but then dug into his pocket and pulled out a single picture of two girls photographed on a playground. They were smiling widely and happily at the person behind the camera. You had never seen the girls so you shook your head no and crossed your arms.

“No. I’ve never seen them before. Am I supposed to?”

“I don’t know, are you?”

“What are you implying, detective?”

“Do you know the house you broke into on Thursday, November 28th was the home of Anna Dover. Anna and her friend Joy went missing that same night after returning to the Dover residence to find a whistle. You were inside the home at the time we believe the girls went missing. So, tell me–do you know where the girls are?” Loki was zoned in accusation. The man was unwavering in his tone or his assumption and you would say it was scary if you didn’t find it attractive. Why, God WHY, did the detective working on this case have to be everything you looked for in a man? It would be so much easier if he were old and wrinkled but he was far far from it.

“Detective, if I would have known you would come into my home and accuse me of kidnapping two innocent girls, I wouldn’t have answered the ring.”

“Where are the two girls? Do you know where they are?”

“No. I told you I didn’t take the girls.”

“But you were in the house? Did you see the girls?”

“I didn’t say that either.”

“What if I told you that you were a sloppy thief?”

“Excuse me?” You furrowed your brows in confusion. You were certain that you were not. There was never a time where you left as much as a trace of hair in a location that you hit.

“The bin.” Loki walked over to the T.V. stand that had three white bins tucked into slots. The bins were generally filled with junk except for one thing that the Dover’s told him went missing yesterday afternoon. A medium size blue decorative pot with yellow flowers on its sides. It was meant for shallow flowers as a table center piece that was gifted to Keller and Grace on their wedding day. Grace was distraught over it and it was sitting the left-most bin under the television. Loki pulled open the drawer and carefully took out the pot and you looked at it with a shrug.

“Where did you get this?”

“My mother.”

“I thought I told you that they told me you haven’t spoken to them in a decade?”

“Well I obviously spoke to them before that.”

“I am going to ask you again and I want an honest answer. Where did you get this pot?”

What were you supposed to do? The man literally cracked the code. If only you hadn’t chosen that house. Oh! How much easier your life would be.

“I plead the fifth.” Oh, fuck.

Loki set the pot carefully down and pulled a pair of handcuffs from his belt. It would have been hot if you weren’t terrified of what came next. Then you made an ill-timed joke.

“You’re not pulling those out for another reason are you?” You didn’t even laugh yourself because he simply ignored it and motioned for you to stand and turn around.

“I am going to take you to the station and we will talk more there. Stand up, turn around, and give me your hands.”

“I already told you I don’t know where the girls are.” Ignored again but the feeling of him pushing your shoulder with his hand and taking your wrist was something you wished you would stop replaying in your mind.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything-”

The Conyer’s Police Station was wimpy compared to other cities. It was a small, single story brick building with three holding rooms and one interrogation room. You weren’t sure how long you sat in the holding cell, but it was nighttime by the time you were taken out of the room by another officer and into a brightly lit, slightly yellowed room with a mirrored window and a small desk with two chairs. There was a pencil and a pad of paper at the center of it but you were sure if it was going to be Detective Loki interrogating you, he wouldn’t need it.

The officer uncuffed you with no words spoken and pointed at the chair facing the window. You rubbed your wrists from the friction the metal left before taking a seat and staring into the glass where your reflection met your own. You had nothing to do with the two missing girls so you had nothing to give them, or rather, nothing to give Loki to further his investigation.

The man of the hour waltzed into the room a mere five minutes after you were sat down. He had a half-drank cup of coffee in one hand and a small grouping of papers in the other. Loki sat down, settling himself before looking up at you and beginning the interrogation.

“Please state your name, age, and address.”

You recited the information as told.

“How many homes a year do you burglarize?" Loki opened a file that was tucked under some papers with a series of pictures printed on a piece of computer paper. It was amalgamation of missing objects from families around Conyers. You were fucked, but you couldn't let him think that, or at least believe that you were guilty in anyway. Your stealing wasn't going to find those girls because you had no idea where in the world they were. You had never seen them before their faces were plastered on every hour of the news.

"Shouldn't my lawyer be here if you are going to accuse me of something?"

"Do you need a lawyer?"

"Do I, Detective?"

It was the attitude that angered him the most. A woman like you didn't need to steal. Based on your records, he had no reason to truly believe you would. Clean record. No screaming signs of intent or distrust popped out but he knew you were guilty. There was not a doubt. But there was something in that attitude that made him squirm. An attractive quality that he did not want to admit.

"If you answer the questions I ask truthfully, then no, you won't need a lawyer."

"Ask away." You leaned back in the chair with arms crossed and a determined narrowness to your eyes. It was a challenge. Try me, Detective. Do it, I dare you.

"When did you first start stealing?"

"When I was seven. My sister always had better stuff, so I took it."

"And that escalated to...what?" Instead of leaning back on his own chair, Loki leaned forward. His shoulders were hunched in an aggressive, intense tactic to scare you into admitting something that you didn't have any part of. He just wanted to find those girls and you happen to be a speed bump in the way.

"Minor petty theft. I never take anything over $500."

"How do you know what something is worth?"

"I'm sure you can find that in my file, Detective. Everything is there I am sure of it. You all know just how to frame the people you want. But I had nothing to do with those girls."

Loki's line of aggravation was growing thin. Sooner or later, attitude wasn't going to cut it and he was going to have to use the tactics he used on Alex Jones and other potential perpetrators on you. He never liked to get outright violent with women, but he couldn't let this go without trying to get something. The days were wearing thin and he needed to find Joy and Anna.

"You were in the Dover's house the night of the abduction. Where are the girls?"

"I told you I didn't have anything to do with that."

"Didn't or don't."

"Doesn't matter. I did not see them. I do not know where they are. Ruining children's lives isn't my MO, Detective-"

"But you do and you did! YOU were in that house. YOU were at the scene of the crime at the time they went missing. YOU are the one who knows what happened to those girls!" His voice was no longer steady and calm as he had been taught during his training. His string had snapped when in response, you laughed.

Loki flew out of his chair, rounded the table as the sound of his chair skidded across the floor and to the wall behind him. If you weren't so focused on him, you probably could have heard the surprised yells of the Detectives and Officers behind the mirror. The angered Detective roughly arrived at his destination–you, and grabbed the back of your hair, pulling your head back to look at him as he stood over you.

"Where the fuck are the girls?" It came out like a hiss. His eyes enraged with pain for the families and his own reputation if the case goes wrong and he doesn't find them in enough time. You weren't scared of him or his tactics. Rather, it was quite the opposite. If he wasn't attractive, you would have been disgusted but the man was the epitome of perfection and this scene would be one to get you off for years to come.

"I told you, I don't know where the girls are." He gripped your hair harder and you felt the chair waver underneath you. Still not scared.

"You're a liar, a fucking thief, and I don't believe you. Where are the girls? Do you like that sort of thing, huh? Do-"

"You sick fuck. I'm a thief not a fucking pedophile. I didn't take the girls!" You were slightly taken aback by his suggestion, but it was all a tactic. You had seen it on millions of police shows before. He just wanted answers, but he wasn't going to find them with you. Whatever in the sentence you had just spoken to him, Loki was worse off for it. He practically lifted you by the hair and charged you into the wall roughly. Not enough to leave a mark, but enough to make a point. He wasn't playing around but neither were you.

Loki's hand let go of your hair and one found itself on the wall next to your head as he closed in on you. You could feel his breathe on your face and his eyes pierced your goddamned soul. The other, well the other found itself right on your neck, holding you in place against the wall with a slight squeeze. Holy fuck.

"Keep this up Detective and I would have the means to believe this might lead to something else." The smile, your smile crept up on your face at your own assumption. You wouldn't complain if it did escalate to that.

"TELL ME WHERE THE GIRLS ARE? WHERE IS ANNA? WHERE IS JOY?"

"I told you I DON'T KNOW WHERE THE GIRLS ARE!"

There was something in your own anger that made him want to believe you didn't take the girls or had any clue where they were. He would hate to see a woman like you throw your life away for a career of crime. The proximity between the two of you was next to none. A knife wouldn't have been able to break the tension and the way he held you, unintentionally violent with a hand just a little too suggestively on your neck was a mistake but not one that he was readily going to admit. If this was any other situation, he might have let himself be willing to feel something more. But this was an interrogation, so he kept the face and squeezed just a little harder.

"Where are they? Tell me where they are?"

"Starting to sound like a broken record there. I would tell you again but I'm sure you have my admission of NOT KNOWING WHERE THEY ARE ON TAPE!"

Loki had enough and let your neck go with a jolt. His hands went to his belt where his cuffs were sitting and he pulled them out and turned you around. Your body was flush against the wall and one of his large, tattooed hands held your wrists together as he went to cuff them. This was another thing that would forever be engrained in your "sexy when it shouldn't be" file in your brain.

"Fine. You won't tell me where they are? Maybe a night in lock up will make you think." His voice was low, just at the base of your ear and his hot breath lingered on your neck as you could hear nothing but your heart beating out of your chest and the sound of cuffs closing.

But the man didn't get much further than that because the door to the room opened and like two deer in headlights, you both turned your heads to the sound of the intruder. It was another officer who looked both scared and amused and slightly embarrassed in regard to what he walked in on. He approached Loki as the latter man pulled you off the wall and forward, in front of him to walk toward the door.

"It was the hospital. Joy Birch was just admitted."

The look on Loki's face was priceless. You literally scoffed out loud and turned your face to his.

"I told you I had no fucking idea where they were."

Loki simply passed you over to the other officer and headed to the door, frustrated and confused about his own work and internal feelings about what had just happened–both the realization that you had no idea where they were and that he had been aggressive to the point where it kind of turned him on.

"Detective!" He was halfway out the door when you called out to him and if he had a mind, he would have ignored you and continued on, but he was so flustered that he did.

"If you ever want to use those cuffs sometime, you know where to find me."

Loki didn't say anything, but his eyes wandered. From your face to your body to the floor and back up. It was an unashamed look that made the officer uncomfortable, but you couldn't help but let a small, sly smile grace your face at his look. This man would be the end of your criminal career if he managed to find the time to reunite with you again.

And he did. Two days after Keller Dover was found in a hole and on a holiday he knew you were not going to spend with your family.

#Detective Loki x Reader #Detective Loki x Female Reader #Prisoners #Prisoners 2013 #Jake Gyllenhaal x oc #Jake Gyllenhaal x Reader #David Loki x reader #David Loki x Female Reader #Detective Loki x fem reader #Detective Loki #fanfic #writer #x reader #x female reader #i imagine after the christmas trist reader does in fact serve time for theft. but we ignore that for now.

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five-rivers · 4 years ago

Text

Face Your Dreams

Almost forgot to post this here as well! @anthropwashere

Phic Phight 2021

Prompt from Anthrop: Any flavor of the Reverse AUs that strike your fancy. Who gets the ghost powers? Who becomes the ghost hunter? Who gets ghost magick'd into the villain of the week?

Danny’s phone was dead. Which was just typical, really. His parents were brilliant, wealthy inventors that played with the fabric of reality on a daily basis and had managed to turn, not one, but two of Danny’s best friends into half ghosts, but they couldn’t be bothered to get Danny a phone that was actually reliable. Although they hadn’t intended to do the half ghost thing and didn’t know about it.

Probably.

Maybe.

(Honestly, Danny didn’t know. His parents were weird. And Danny suspected they were keeping secrets.)

Back on topic. Phone. Not working. Which was a problem because Danny was something like ninety-percent sure a ghost had been following him for the last block or so and he couldn’t call for help.

Correction, he could call for help all he wanted, he just wouldn’t get any that would be any good against a ghost. If he got any at all. It was the middle of the night.

He should have taken up Sam’s offer of a flight home. Or Tucker’s. But, no, he had to be sulky about how both of them were developing yet more really, incredibly cool powers and Danny was still just…

Himself.

Faceless, boring Fenton. Only notable for the number of bullies he attracted and the people he was related to. No special skillset, no dreams he had any hope of achieving, no triumphs. Nothing to contribute. Not in and of himself. Only useful to enemies that wanted a hostage.

He was about to be murdered by a ghost and he was still sulking. God, he was pathetic.

(Not all ghosts were evil – Sam and Tucker’s stories had taught him that much, on an intellectual basis. Was it too much to hope that he could reach home without the ghost attacking? Too much to hope that it was just watching?)

White noise tugged at Danny’s ears. It reminded him of the sleep CD Jazz played when Mom and Dad were being loud.

… and, also, oddly, of a video he’d once watched about what stars might sound like, based on how they vibrated.

Danny shuddered, his heartbeat redoubling as he picked up speed, reaching a run. If he could get home, he could turn on the ghost shield and call Sam and Tucker from his home phone. They’d be annoyed that he was bothering about a ghost so long after a patrol, but he was freaked out enough to not really care about their teasing.

(He’d been freaked out enough for the past two blocks.)

His breath began to catch in his lungs, his side burning. He splashed through a puddle, dark, oily liquid sticking to his right sneaker and pant leg. It glittered in the light of the waning crescent moon.

Wait –

It hadn’t rained for weeks.

He slipped and fell, skinning hands, knees, and chin on the sidewalk. Something wet, sticky, and smooth as silk spread over the pavement beneath him. It bubbled like a tar pit, and captive stars shone from within.

Danny tried to push himself up, but the liquid held on to him, pulled him back down.

He was sinking.

He flailed for the sidewalk, reaching, trying to stay afloat. It didn’t work. His elbows were below the level of the sidewalk, and inky, glittery black dripped from his front. It seemed to be eating through his clothes.

Forget useful help. He’d take any help. He screamed.

And he fell.

“You have such lovely dreams,” said the masked man, his horns curling into galaxies. “Impossible dreams.”

Danny couldn’t breathe. He was in freefall. A vacuum. No ground in sight, only the cold, heartless stars, perfect in their beauty.

(And his eyes. Oh, god, was this really a ghost?)

It was his dream, to be an astronaut. With this little twist, it became a nightmare, and yet—

Yet.

“You feel faceless,” continued the masked man. “But there’s freedom in that, is there not?”

Danny shouldn’t be able to hear him. There shouldn’t be any sound in space, and there wasn’t. Not except for his voice.

“Freedom,” said the man, “to follow your wildest dreams, unshackled from responsibility, from reality, from reasonability. No longer dependent on those that call themselves your friends, who claim to be your family, who walk over your dreams for the sake of theirs.”

Suddenly, Danny hit the sidewalk, and he could breathe again. Something thick dripped from his nose, his mouth, his eyes. He pushed himself to his hands and knees. His clothing was gone. His limbs were painted with the night sky in all its glory. He froze, staring.

From Danny’s shadow, the masked man rose, towering over Danny until he felt like little more than a shadow. “Don’t you want to have the chance to see your dreams come true, child?”

Danny blinked. It was hard to force his eyes back open. They seemed to want to stick closed.

“Who are you?” Danny asked, words garbled by the dripping stars trying to force their way past his lips.

“I am Nocturne,” the ghost said, leaning closer.

“You’re like,” Danny choked, “like Desiree. I don’t want—”

Nocturne scoffed. “Desiree. A creature of wishes, of momentary things. I do not care for what you wish for. What matters is that you dream.”

There was something in Nocturne’s hand, round and white and moonlike. It looked small, held between two of his fingers, but it had to be the size of Danny’s face.

“Don’t you dream of flying?” purred Nocturne. “Of being among the stars? Don’t you dream of a peaceful world, where your friends are safe, and the accident never happened? Where you’re a friend, not a weapon supply, a sidekick, or a damsel in distress?”

Danny had been thinking something so close just minutes ago and he couldn’t—

“There, there, my child. No need to cry.” He brought the round thing closer.

Danny could see, now, that it was a mask. Just his size.

“Close your eyes,” said Nocturne, gently, cupping Danny’s trembling shoulders with his other hand. “Close your eyes and dream. Let your face go, for a little while.”

(Danny did as he was told.)

“Hi, Sam,” said Mrs. Fenton, her voice crackling slightly through the phone speaker. “Have you seen Danny today?”

“I haven’t seen him since last n—Since yesterday,” said Sam, correcting herself halfway though. Mrs. Fenton didn’t know about their nightly escapades, and for good reason. “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know yet,” said Maddie. “He just… I haven’t seen him either. He usually says goodbye before he leaves.”

He didn’t, but Maddie didn’t need to know that.

“Have you checked with Tucker yet? Sometimes they hang out without me. Guy things.” This… was also not entirely true. Danny and Tucker hadn’t had a ‘guy thing’ for ages. They’d been smoothly replaced with ‘ghost things’ like most everything else in their lives.

Sam… might have felt a little bad about that. All of their normal friend activities being replaced by ghost things, that is. Often ghost things that Danny couldn’t really participate in, because Danny couldn’t fly or shoot lasers from his hands.

He did do a good job of setting up obstacle courses and covering for her and Tucker’s—

Wait, no, not the point.

“He hasn’t seen him, either. Jazz doesn’t know where he is. I don’t—” She broke off, sighing. “Call me if you see him. Or tell him to call me.”

“I will,” said Sam, opening the window and preparing to take off.

“Thank you,” said Maddie. She hung up.

Sam went ghost with a burst of green fire. She floated up and out of the window, fading out of visibility as she dialed Tucker’s number.

“Starboy’s missing,” she said.

“Yeah, I’m already searching for him,” said Tucker, the microphone crackling with static but otherwise clear. Tucker’s powers both did and didn’t mesh well with technology.

“Any luck?”

“No,” said Tucker. “This is one of those times when I wish he did have friends other than us. Then we could ask them about where he is.”

“Do you think he’s been taken by a ghost?” asked Sam.

“I mean, maybe? There was that whole thing with Desiree…”

“And the second thing with Desiree,” added Sam.

“And Skulker.”

“And the second thing with Skulker.”

“And Spectra.”

“And the second thing with Spectra.”

“Not to mention Vlad.”

“What a freak,” said Sam.

“Are you picking up a pattern here?”

“Yeah, maybe. Who’s only kidnapped Danny once?”

“I’m not sure… Maybe it’s a new guy? We do get new guys now and again.”

Sam sighed. “Never mind that,” she said. “Where have you looked so far?”

“Not too many places. Do you want to meet up, or…?”

“No, we’ll have more luck going separately. I’ll check in with you in a bit.”

A whole day passed without any sign of Danny. They did, however, find a lot of ghosts with stitched-shut eyes, which they decided was probably related and also incredibly creepy.

By that time, the police got involved. Danny was officially a missing person.

But they were distracted. Didn’t have the manpower to search for just one missing person.

Why?

The sudden surge in coma patients.

“I don’t get it,” said Tucker. “Is that more of a, you know,” he lowered his voice, “doctor thing? Like, if it’s a bunch of people, don’t you think it’s a disease or something?”

“The police think that someone poisoned ‘em,” said Sam.

“How do you know that?”

“How do you think I know that?”

“Dude. You have to stop eavesdropping on the police. I’m, like, ninety percent sure that’s illegal.”

“Not for ghosts, it isn’t.”

“Okay, I’m one hundred percent sure it is. You’ve read the anti-ecto acts, haven’t you? I’m not the only one who did that, right?”

“It was, like, fifty pages thick. And stupid. The only reason I’d read it would be if I wanted to break the laws more efficiently.”

“Seriously?”

An alien world spread out below Danny, a place to explore to his heart’s content, the sky twinkling above him. He couldn’t see it, but he knew it was there, in the nameless, infinite way you knew things when you were dreaming.

He was an astronaut. An adventurer. An explorer.

He was doing everything he had ever dreamed of.

The only thing missing were the people. His friends. His family.

But… He could bring them here. He knew that, too, in the same way.

He just had to reach out and touch them. Feel them. Take them.

(A bit of black and starlight in their eyes, a touch of the gift given to him.)

(Nocturne whispered in his ears. A song only for him.)

They found the ghost responsible for the comas. And maybe they should have realized a ghost was causing them, but Danny was the one who usually put the pieces together, and he wasn’t there. Which was the problem.

(What Sam wouldn’t give for some kind of reliable ghost-detecting power. Or even technology.)

(No, the Fenton Finder didn’t count.)

It was small, human proportions, human skin tone, where it wasn’t covered with some kind of ghostly paint that mimicked the night sky. Its hair was colored the same way, and a blank mask covered its face. Seemed to be directing the green stitched-eye ghosts somehow, despite not saying a word. So. All in all, typical ghost, if somewhat more annoying due to his lack of witty banter.

Then he shrugged off the thermos beam like it was nothing. Almost like he was human.

Then Tucker froze.

The ghost was carried away from the fight by its minions, faster than Sam or Tucker could go.

“Tucker! What was that?”

“Birthmark,” gasped Tucker.

“What?” asked Sam.

“That was Danny’s birthmark.”

“Oh my god,” said Sam. “Did he really get himself transformed into a ghost again?”

“This seems different than Desiree,” said Tucker. “I don’t… Were we really fighting him?”

Sam rolled her eyes. “Let’s go get the Ghost Catcher.”

The Ghost Catcher was not in evidence in the Fenton basement.

“What now?” asked Tucker.

“Beat it out of him?” suggested Sam.

“That is a terrible plan. No, I can’t even call it a plan. It’s just bad.”

“Do you have anything better?”

(Tucker did not have anything better.)

(And Danny still couldn’t find his friends, to show them this dream come true.)

When about one in ten people in Amity Park was in a coma, things managed to get even worse. The people who were asleep began to sleepwalk. And sleep attack people.

Sam and Tucker were used to fighting ghosts. Not humans. They didn’t want to hurt anyone.

Especially Danny who was especially vicious. And also seemed to be targeting them.

Danny was so close. So close he could almost touch them. He could feel them, electricity and green things and dreams of power and justice. He could feel them, feel them, feel them, and he was so, so close to inviting them into the dream and he needed it, needed them. Wanted them.

His dream, the dream, his dream, it just wouldn’t be complete without them at his side, wouldn’t be right.

He reached for them, reached for Sam, brushed her sleeve and—

A meteor shower threw them apart.

Tucker dragged Sam away from Danny’s hand and the sleep-inducing liquid it was coated in.

“We have to go,” he gasped, looking out at the veritable horde of ghosts and sleepwalking humans.

“Yeah,” said Sam. “Yeah, we have to – Have to regroup.”

They retreated to the Ghost Zone, and, predictably, were separated.

The ghost’s name was Undergrowth, and he was interested in Sam. Interested enough to offer to teach her.

His power was the same as hers. Nature. Plants.

His rage against humans was… much greater. Overwhelming. Too much, too far, to extreme. She was glad he didn’t see her as human, didn’t seem to know that she wanted to protect humans.

(That she wanted to save Danny.)

Tucker already knew Technus. Had met him, fought him, beat him. More than once, even.

So, he had to ask why Technus was suddenly helping him.

The ghost fixed Tucker with a look that managed to be both incredulous and flat.

“Ghost child,” warbled Technus, “I, Technus, Master of All Things Electronic and Beeping, know what being electrocuted feels like! By the very power we both now wield!”

“Oh,” said Tucker. “Yeah, that makes sense. You were saying?”

Sam and Tucker stood in front of the portal, side by side.

“Ready to be a wake-up call?” asked Tucker.

“You’d better believe it,” said Sam.

Danny was caught, trapped in Sam’s vines.

“This isn’t working,” said Tucker, lightly shocking Danny once again. The ectoblast didn’t help, either. “Usually, this’d zap the ghost out of him, but…”

“Maybe we could try to overshadow him?” asked Sam, dubiously.

“Ugh,” said Tucker. “My least favorite power.”

“It could be the only way to find the ghost actually responsible.”

“Let’s do this.”

Danny was thrilled! He’d finally found his friends. True, he couldn’t move, but—

The stars shuddered. Shifted. Blinked.

Nocturne was angry.

Sam was knocked out of the sky at full speed, making a crater in the dark ground. People were gathered nearby. Amity Park people.

This couldn’t just be the inside of Danny’s mind (overshadowing had never worked this way before, but, well, it wasn’t like they experimented with it a whole lot), it had to be some kind of shared dream. A special power of the ghost, perhaps?

Sam fired up her powers, reaching for the nearby plants. They didn’t respond.

Crud.

This was a dream. They just looked like plants.

Then Tucker lit up the sky like a dying star, electrocuting everyone in range.

Danny woke up, throwing Sam and Tucker out of his body, something metallic clanging against sidewalk pavement. Out of his mind, out of his dream. Out of that dream, the one Nocturne had made for him.

Oh, god. He’d just spent the last week—Had it been a week, or longer? —out of his mind, in that dream, reality at one remove, if that. He’d been blind and—

He reached up to his face, to that mask and he pulled. It stuck. He pulled harder, and felt the goo sticking it on give, the mask coming away while dripping thick strands of ooze. He gasped. And it felt like the first breath he’d taken in—

How long had it been?

He opened his eyes just in time to see Nocturne rise out of his shadow.

Both Sam and Tucker had more of an advantage out here in the real world, without having to worry about hurting people. Well, without having to worry about hurting people more than usual. Wrecking buildings and missing with ectoblasts were still concerns.

“Draw him towards the park?” called Tucker, once they got close enough to confer with each other.

“You grab Danny?”

“I don’t—” started Tucker. He dodged a swipe from the large, starry ghost. “He might be safer, if—”

A column of blue light strobed into the sky, and Nocturne was pulled into the Fenton Thermos. The Fenton Thermos held by Danny Fenton. He coughed, black liquid dripping down his chin.

“Hey,” said Danny. “Thanks.”

“I’ve got to stop losing that thing,” groaned Tucker.

“I think the more important thing here is getting Danny some clothes,” said Sam, shielding her eyes.

“Yes, please,” said Danny.

“Glad to have you back, man,” said Danny, landing next to Danny and transforming. “Honestly, without you, we kind of suck at the whole investigation angle.”

“What?” asked Danny, taking the sweater Tucker offered him.

“We missed you,” clarified Sam. “A lot. We kind of… don’t do to well at anything about ghost fighting. Or life.”

“Yeah, our social life sucked even more than usual.”

“Oh,” said Danny, wrapping the sweater around his waist. “That’s cool.” He spit some of the black liquid out onto the sidewalk. “I need a shower.”

“Yep. Hugs are going to be deferred until then.”

“I’m okay with that,” said Danny. “I kind of… don’t want to be touched, for a while.”

“Ah,” said Tucker. “Well. I’m depressed again.”

“Just. Until the shower,” said Danny.

Sam reached out as if to pat Danny on the shoulder, then drew back. “Do you want a flight back home? Or to, uh, Tucker’s house? To shower. And get some clothes.”

“How is that different from a hug? You’ll still have to carry me.”

“It just is,” said Sam.

“It really is,” said Tucker.

There was a long pause.

“I lied, I want a hug so bad,” said Danny.

His friends practically flung themselves at him.

#Danny Phantom #phic phight #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #nocturne #reverse trio #void!danny

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127-mile · 3 years ago

Text

Beautiful disaster.

Pairing: Doyoung x gender neutral reader.

Genre: College, roommates, “friends” to lovers | Fluff, angst.

Warnings: Non-explicit mention of alcohol consumption and vomit, mention of a one night stand, strong language.

Plot: Doyoung decided to live with you after being kicked out by his roommate. In your small, one bed, apartment.

Prompt: You’re so beautiful, you know that?

Word count: +3.3k.

A/N: This is part of the Quarter of life shenanigans collab hosted by @ncteaxhoe.

"What the hell are you doing here, Doyoung?"

Doyoung is sitting in the hallway with his back against the wall next to the door to your apartment, but what is the most worrying is the number of suitcases surrounding him. He looks up when he hears your voice, and he smiles as he stands up, dusting his pants off. "I'm moving in with you!" he exclaims and you shake your head as you stick your key in the lock. "I don't think so. Have you seen the size of my apartment? If it's too small for me, it will be too small for the both of us."

"We can make it work, that's okay." he waits for you to open the door, but you do not make a move, you refuse to have him inside with all of his suitcases. You're not even sure to have enough space to store them. "Why, by the way? Weren't you living with Taeyong?" he shrugs his shoulders, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "He kicked me out of the apartment this morning." of course he did. Doyoung is insufferable, and you wonder why he didn't do it sooner. "You'll have to contact the dean to find you a dorm room or something."

"Why live in a tiny room when I have a best friend ready to put me in until the end of the school year!" he explains and you let out a long sigh. "I'm not your best friend. We're not even friends." he puts a hand on his heart, a falsely offended look on his face. What an idiot. "Of course we're friends! We got drunk together, and you saw me and laughed at me when I threw up on Johnny's bed, so that makes us friends. Very close friends. And friends are supposed to help each other in case of need."

"I can't do anything for you, sorry." you enter your apartment, and you close the door in front of Doyoung's face and you hear him whine, which makes you roll your eyes. You put your backpack on your bed, which is, moreover, the only bed in the apartment. A bed that doubles as a sofa, a desk, and sometimes even a dining table, but you're not a fan of the latter option, you prefer to eat on the floor. You turn your head when you hear noise in the hallway, and when you think Doyoung has understood and is leaving, you notice that he is singing. Very loudly.

You open the door quickly and you meet his gaze. "What are you doing? I have neighbors, and I don't want to see the police show up!" he smirks, he knows he won the second you open the door wide, and push yourself to let him through. "You're not going to be able to fit all of your suitcases inside, so you're going to have to decide what to keep, and what to throw away." you mumble and he nods like an excited child. What the hell did you just do, you wonder when you see him sit on the floor to open his suitcases. He pulls out clothes, books, cds, notebooks and you really don't have a clue where he intends to store it all.

You sit on your bed, and pull your laptop out of your bag. Doyoung is going to be outside for quite a while, so you might as well take care of your next essay until he's done. And oddly, it doesn't take him that long, because soon he's standing in front of your bed, his brow furrowed. "Where is my bed?" he asks and you point to the ground with your finger. "Right here, and if you're nice, you'll even get a blanket and a pillow."

"What?" he asks in a way that is too dramatic to be taken seriously. "You expected me to give you my bed? It won't happen, and I don't have a sofa, so it's either you sleep on the floor, or find yourself somewhere else to go." he nibbles on his lower lip, and you tilt your head to the side. You would like to be in his head, to know what he is thinking about. "It's okay, you have a big bed, I'm going to sleep with you." oh my god, it couldn't be worse. "And as for my extra things, I'm going to ask Taeil to lend me his car, and I'll take it all to my parents."

"Your parents? Why don't you go to your parents? You'll get your own room, quality meals, and no rent to pay!" well now that you think about it you're not unhappy to not be in his head, because it must be a mess if he prefers to sleep here rather than at his parents. "My older brother had a baby girl, and he and his girlfriend moved back in with my parents so they could take care of her when they are working, I won't be able sleep." of course he has an answer for everything.

"Don't worry, you won't even notice I'm here." you doubt it very much.

And you were right to doubt it, because Doyoung is very hard to miss, or to ignore for that matter.

Okay, he's clean, and he does the dishes after every meal, but he takes up a lot of space. When he is studying, he sprawls out on the bed, and on the floor, which leaves you very little room to do your homework. And worst of all, he takes all the hot water when he is showering. You warned him that the hot water tank was small, and that it would not hold for two people, and yet that did not prevent him from taking twenty-minute showers during which he does nothing other than singing. You've already received several complaints from your neighbor, and it's embarrassing.

He always finds a way to wake up before you and steal your place in the shower, but today you decided it would be different.

When you turn your head, Doyoung is still asleep, and it's a shame that he looks like an angel when he sleeps, because he's clearly the devil himself. His chest rises and falls in the steady rhythm of his breathing, and for a minute, you even wonder if you shouldn't be lying in bed for a little longer, to stare at him. It's strange, but it's pleasant, it's relaxing.

No, you can't let his angelic face make you change your mind, so you straighten up, being careful not to make too big movements that might wake him up, and when you look at your phone which is resting on the bedside table, you notice there are 30 minutes left before Doyoung's alarm goes off. This gives you plenty of time to empty the hot water tank yourself. Perfect.

On your tiptoes, you walk to the bathroom. You undress, and you step into the shower. You almost scream when the spray of cold water hits your body, but it heats up pretty quickly, thank goodness. You've barely been under the hot water for less than five minutes when the glass door opens, and your gaze lands on Doyoung. Doyoung who is very much naked. "What are you fucking doing?" you ask, surprise and he shrugs. "You're not the only one who needs hot water."

"It's no fair! You have hot water every morning, and I have to make do with a cold shower. You can't change the rules, let me enjoy it, please!" he shakes his head, and you feel his chest press against your back so that he too can enjoy the hot water. You roll your eyes because you've come to realize that it's impossible to make him change his mind when he has an idea, and that he's extremely stubborn. Just your luck.

"Could you give me the bottle of shampoo?" he asks and you sigh handing him the bottle that he takes with a weak thank you. You feel him moving against you, and it gets hard to ignore the fact that he's completely naked, but that doesn't seem to bother him, and you wonder if he was doing the same with Taeyong. You'll remember to ask him someday.

When you finish washing, the water starts to cool and you shake your head when you get out of the shower. You grab your towel that you wrap around your body and you hold out Doyoung's. "See, it wasn't that hard! We should do it every morning. Hot water for both of us, and we'll save a lot of money on the bill." no one had ever used the water bill as an excuse to lure you into the shower with them, but that's okay. You laugh softly. "At one condition." you say turning on your heels to look at him. "We shower at 7:30 am. I don't get up at 6:00 am every morning for a shower."

"It's fine by me." he brushes against you to get out of the bathroom, and you see his smirk. If only you could make him swallow his stupid smile, you would do it without a second thought.

"Taeil isn't in town, so he gave me his car. Do you want me to drive you to uni?" he asks when you're about to leave, bag hanging from your right shoulder, and you nod your head. "Yeah, that would be nice." the distance between your apartment and the university is not huge, but it's nice to not have to walk, to not have to pass other students that could use the opportunity to talk to you when you are not up enough to be social.

Doyoung pulls into the university parking lot, and gets out of the car. You follow him closely with a sigh, you really don't want to waste the next three hours in a crowded auditorium, but alas. "Oh, by the way. I'll be staying at the library tonight, so take the keys." you throw the keys over the car, and he grabs them without a hitch. "Are you planning to study late?" you shrug your shoulders, you don't plan that kind of thing. The library is the kind of place where you know when you're going in, but don't know when you're going out. "Maybe, I do not know."

"Message me when you're ready to go, I'll pick you up, I don't want you to walk alone when it's dark." you roll your eyes. "It's not like I've never done it before." you walk to the building, and you can't help but smile, it's really sweet of him. Maybe the devil has a soft spot for you, who knows.

As promised, Doyoung is waiting in the car when you get out of the library. And he didn't come empty-handed, he has hot coffee and a croissant for you. Yes, the devil definitely has a thing for you.

After all, living with Doyoung isn't horrible.

Okay, the apartment is way too small, but it seems that the lack of space is being billed with an obvious rapprochement between the two of you. Doyoung behaves like the devil most of the time, mostly when he's with his friends, but when he's with you, it's like a switch turns on, and he becomes the angel he looks and sounds like. Not only does he clean, but he cooks too, and you have discovered that he is an amazing cook. And the more time goes by, the more you wonder why Taeyong threw him out.

And you decide that this morning is the perfect time to ask him.

Your classes were canceled for a reason you know nothing about, a reason you didn't read when you got the email this morning. You only had to read the word "cancellation" to quit the app and go back to bed, but of course Doyoung decided otherwise. After a shower taken together, you settled on the floor while waiting for Doyoung to finish getting ready for his day. What he does besides in front of you, and it is well in spite of you that your gaze follows the slightest movements of his body. Can we blame you? You are only human after all. And Doyoung is extremely attractive.

"I never asked you, but why did Taeyong throw you out?" he turns to face you, tilting his head, and you regret asking the question because he is shirtless, and you want nothing more than to run your fingers on his chest, and on his toned stomach. "I may have slept with his crush." Oh.

So he is that kind of guy.

"In my defense, I didn't know who they were! I didn't know Taeyong had a crush on someone, if I had known I would never have hit on them at the party we threw for his birthday." you hum, but you're not sure you believe any of it. "So when Taeyong woke up, and saw us in my bed, he told me to get the hell out and to not come back."

"I see." you pick up your phone, mostly to avoid looking at Doyoung, and to avoid thinking about the unpleasant feeling that has settled deep in the pit of your stomach. You don't want to think about it, you don't want to think about what it means. "You should hurry, you're going to be late." if Doyoung notices a change in the intonation of your voice, he doesn't say anything, he finishes getting ready and he leaves the apartment.

The hour after Doyoung left, the apartment became silent again, and it's strange. You're no longer used to having a quiet apartment, not hearing the sound of Doyoung's keyboard keys, or even hearing him sing whenever he gets the chance. But you don't want to see him right now, which makes the situation a little more complicated. So you do the only thing that seems resonable to you to forget everything: you take a nap.

And when you wake up, the first thing you see is Doyoung. He's sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you. "You are so beautiful, do you know that?" you rub your eyes with the palm of your hand and straighten up with your back against the headboard. "Don't say that, Doyoung." you answer in a whisper and he shakes his head. "You do not believe me?"

"Is that what you said to Taeyong's crush to put them in your bed?" you ask and he frowns as he gets up. "What are you talking about?" you sigh, you just woke up, and you have a headache, you don't want to bother with this conversation, but he doesn't seem to want to end it . "You slept with them, you knew who they were, so you probably said something like that."

"Wait, you didn't believe me when I told you that I didn't know about their connection to Taeyong?" you shake your head. After all, why would you believe him? You don't know Doyoung that well, you've never spent time with him outside the apartment or the library. You don't know what he was like when he was living with Taeyong, so he shouldn't blame you for not believing him. "I have no reason to believe you, maybe you're just trying to put me in your bed, who knows."

He bites his lower lip, crossing his arms over his chest. "If I knew I was going to be accused of something I didn't do, I wouldn't have come here." you scoff as you lift your head to meet his gaze. "No one asked you to come here, Doyoung! You came of your own free will, without letting me know, don't act like you've been invited to live with me. You don't get to be offended by this situation."

"I can not believe it." he sighs, and he turns on his heels. Of course, it doesn't make you happy to hear the front door slam behind Doyoung but it's for the best, right? It's best to know who he really is before you fall in love with him even more.

Maybe he wasn't lying, and you'll regret everything later, but it's for everyone's good. It is for the sake of your heart that you must protect at all costs. Right?

Doyoung didn't come home that night, and even though you did this, you pushed this on yourself, you stayed awake until the wee hour of the morning, wondering if he was okay, how he was feeling. You hate yourself, especially when you grab your phone to dial Doyoung's number. Maybe that's what you needed, some time to think about it. You didn't give him the time to explain himself, even though he didn't even have to explain himself, it's his life, not yours.

"Doyoung, please, come home."

When Doyoung comes home, you have barely fallen asleep, but the sound of the door is enough to wake you up. You turn your head when you hear the sound of footsteps and when your eyes meet Doyoung's, you pout. Doyoung looks exhausted, and you wonder where he spent the night, but like every time he picks you up from the library when it's dark, he's not empty handed. He holds a bouquet of flowers which he hands you. "I am sorry."

You shake your head as you get up, putting the flowers on the bed to put your hands on his cheeks. He leans into the touch, and you almost feel like cooing. "You don't have to be sorry, I should be. I accused you, and I didn't give you time to defend yourself. Hell, I shouldn't even had blamed you in the first place when I wasn't around to see what really happened." you speak quickly, and Doyoung chuckles.

"Breathe, everything is fine." he says in a soft voice, and you want to melt in his embrace. "You forgive me?" you ask in a small voice and he shrugs his shoulders. "It depends. Do you agree to go on a date with me?" you roll your eyes, why aren't you even surprised? "I could tell you yes, if you promise not to sleep with my crush, but it would be pretty hard since it's you. So yes, I would love it."

You've seen Doyoung smile before, but his smile has never been brighter, and his eyes, you don't have enough words to describe the emotions you can read inside them. "Can I kiss you?" it's your turn to shrug, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. "I guess." he leans over and kisses you softly. It's nothing but a chaste kiss, but it's enough for you.

It's not what you would have thought was going to happen when he left the apartment last night, or even when he decided to move in, but you're definitely not mad about it.

#nct imagines #nct scenarios #doyoung imagines #doyoung scenarios

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nctsjiho · 4 years ago

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Lost Boy

warnings: none

era: fall 2018

❀ JiHo and Winwin go on a little mission to find a lost child’s parents

“I don’t know who’s idea it was to leave an 18 year old and an awkward foreigner boy alone in a foreign country, but the idea doesn’t sound the brightest.” JiHo noted while she scanned her surroundings. Winwin took slight offence to the comment and pushed her arm. “Hey! I’m not awkward.” The girl only sent him a smirk before looking around again.

The pair were outside in a less busy area of LA, while their manager went inside a store to grab some essentials. Normally something like that wouldn’t be allowed by the company so the manager had made JiHo and Winwin promise they wouldn’t tell anyone about it. Of course JiHo took advantage of the situation by requesting the manager would buy them some snacks - which also wasn’t allowed during JiHo’s diet, but the manager had to choose between potentially loosing his job, or just getting told of for letting JiHo break her diet. The decision was easily made.

While Winwin and JiHo immersed themselves in a casual conversation, JiHo suddenly felt a tug at her jacket. A little shocked at the unexpected movement, the girl looked down to see a small boy looking up at her. He must have only been around 5 years old, which made JiHo confused about who would let such a young child alone. But by the looks of the boy’s wide and teary eyes, it was definitely a case of a lost child, probably scared out of his mind.

JiHo’s features immediately softened, not wanting her underlying panic and concern for the boy affect the kid. “Hey little guy, what are you doing here alone?” JiHo asked in English and crouched down so she was at eye level with him. The little boy, however, didn’t respond. His lips were slightly trembling and his tears pooled at the corner of his eyes.

Winwin, who felt as shocked to see the lost child, crouched down as well and when the boy faced him he waved. “Hello.” He greeted in Korean, which had JiHo roll her eyes. “You weirdo, he doesn’t understand Korean. We’re in America.” She scolded, hitting her friend’s arm lightly. “You don��t know that.” Winwin retaliated.

Before JiHo could fire back, the “arguing” friends heard a little giggle from the young boy. They both looked at the boy with smiles growing on their faces. “We sound funny don’t we?” JiHo asked and the young boy nodded, causing JiHo to laugh. She quickly translated to Winwin who found it endearing as well.

“What’s your name?” “Jonas.” The boy started to feel shy and casted his gaze on the floor. “Hi Jonas.” Winwin’s sweet tone completely stole the young boy’s heart as he now confidently smiled at Winwin. “No matter where we are, no matter who it is, everyone always falls in love with you.” JiHo snickered to which the older boy shrugged and then continued to wave at Jonas.

“What happened Jonas? Where are your parents?” The boy looked up at JiHo before explaining that they were with him at the park nearby and then suddenly he couldn’t see them anymore. “Did you cross the street all by yourself?” Jonas nodded as his eyes began to fill with even more tears. “Hey, don’t cry. We’ll go find your parents, but you should never cross the street by yourself okay?” Again the boy nodded and JiHo stood up.

Not really understanding what JiHo had just said, Winwin followed her lead and stood up as well. “What are we doing?” Winwin asked and JiHo’s eyes fell on the store their manager walked into about 5 minutes ago. “We’re going to find Jonas’ parents.” She looked at the small boy who was holding onto her hand and looking around the street, hoping to find his parents.

Winwin felt a bit uneasy, even though he wanted to help the child, their manager had no idea what was happening and had “ordered” them to wait outside and not move until he was back. JiHo noticed her friend’s inner turmoil and groaned. “If I have to I’ll go alone, but I’m not letting a kid go and find his parents alone in the late afternoon.” “But can’t we wait till hyung is back and go together?” Winwin tried to compromise. “We don’t know how long he’s going to be in there, and I don’t know how long his parents have been looking for their son. They must feel devastated.”

JiHo noticed how cold Jonas’ hand was so she took her jacket of and wrapped it around the little boy’s shoulders. “I’ll carry you.” She crouched down and Jonas wrapped his tiny arms around JiHo’s neck as he let her pick him up. “I’m going to look for his parents. You’re free to come or stay here, but I’m going.” JiHo told Winwin and then left in the direction of the park.

Winwin did a double take of the store before running and catching up to JiHo and Jonas. “I’m not letting you go alone.” He mumbled, to which JiHo felt a smile creeping on her lips.

Once they enter the park, JiHo asks Jonas a few questions like, “Where was the last place you saw your parents?” and “Did you see in which direction they left?”. Jonas wasn’t much of a help since he didn’t remember much. Yet JiHo completely understood, the boy lost his parents, he must have been so scared and panicked.

5 minutes went by, but they felt like at least half an hour and still they hadn’t found Jonas’ parents. Noticing how the small boy started to become a bit more restless Winwin came up with an idea. “I’ll carry him and you can run around and ask people if you have seen his parents.” Winwin suggested to which JiHo agreed. She handed over Jonas to Winwin who tried his best to entertain the boy. His English skills were very minimal, but Jonas seemed to prefer him saying things in Korean anyway. Each time he did, it elicited a giggle or a smile.

All Winwin had to do was keep Jonas calm, so JiHo could run around and hopefully find Jonas’ parents as soon as possible. He hated the fact that JiHo was running around alone at 5 pm on a particularly cold day, in nothing but a t-shirt and jeans. Her jacket was still wrapped around Jonas, who seemed to appreciate the warmth it provided.

Winwin’s mind was clouded with so many thoughts, what if they didn’t find Jonas’ parents? What if something happened to JiHo? She was only 18 - technically speaking 17, her birthday was in a few months - in a foreign country, with no supervision. Speaking of supervision, how was their manger going to react? Had he already left the store? Had he noticed him and JiHo weren’t there yet? How-

“Jonas!” “My baby!” Winwin’s head snapped to the direction of the screams. There he saw JiHo and two adults running towards them. “Mommy! Daddy!” The little boy screamed, happy to see his parents again. Quickly, Jonas was scooped out of Winwin’s grasp by the little boy’s father. “Thank you two so much! Oh my God, I was so scared!” The mother cried and pulled JiHo in a hug.

Once the mother stopped crying and had hugged her child, they turned to the two idols. “Thank you again! Thanks for taking care of my little boy.” The father said, trying to calm down his rapidly beating heart. “No worries, your son is such a nice boy.” JiHo explained while she got her jacket handed back. “How could I ever repay you?” JiHo held up her hands explaining that they were okay and didn’t need anything. “Did they take good care of you?” The father asked Jonas who then excitedly started telling about how nice JiHo was and how funny Winwin and JiHo talked to each other. It melted both their hearts and then they waved the family goodbye after getting a last hug from the boy.

“He was cute.” Winwin smiled to which JiHo agreed. She then poked his shoulder twice. “We should head back, oppa isn’t going to be happy-” “YOU TWO!” As if on cue, their manager appears, sweat was dripping of his temples as he approached them. “I told you to wait in front of the store! I could already see my career- no, my whole life flash in front of my eyes!” JiHo and Winwin look at their manager with a sheepish grin. “Why are you here?” Winwin then explained what happened and their manager’s gaze softened.

“Next time, don’t forget your phones in the hotel okay? I was worried sick, but thank God you’re both fine.” The manager patted both idols’ shoulders. “And you did something amazing. I’m happy you found that little boy’s parents. I think I almost can relate to his parents.” JiHo cooed at their manager and looked up at him with big eyes. “Aw~ You care about us like we’re your own children?” JiHo teased which caused Winwin to laugh. “Never mind. Maybe I shouldn’t have come to find you.” He groaned.

“Me?! Why are you looking at me only? What about Winwin?!” JiHo asked offended. “What do you mean, JiHo? Didn’t you say everyone always falls in love with me?” The boy wiggled his brow as he mocked the girl. She rolled her eyes while looking at the manager. “Yeah, I think I prefer Winwin right now. Here you go buddy.” He hands him the snacks he got for him earlier. “What about mine?” The manager laughed. “I stress binge ate your snack while I was looking for you guys.” JiHo stopped in her tracks, mouth fallen open while the other two continue to walk. “That’s so unfair.” JiHo mumbled but quickly rushed to catch up with the others.

“Be careful what you say oppa. I can tell SM about how you left us alone outside-” “Here!” He shoved a bag of snacks into JiHo’s hands which made her smile sweetly. “Have I ever told you, you are my favourite manager?” JiHo beamed while opening the snack. “Shut up and eat.” He grumbled.

---

Side Note: Long overdue Winwin writing, there’s still a few members that I haven’t written for, so I’m slowly getting there. The member’s I haven’t written for, funnily enough, are some of the ones that I want to write for the most, but I’m having a hard time finding the perfect stories for them. Just letting you know, so you know that I love them as much as the other members. I know Haechan and Doyoung appear on this blog the most, (and I might have another Doyoung angst in my drafts) but that isn’t because I like them more, I love all NCT members equally. <3

Also posting 2 days in a row because I felt inspired and I might have given up on an assignment for this

#jiho.writings #nct 24th member #nct addition #nct imagines #winwin fluff #winwin imagines #nct female member #nct extra member #nct additional member #kpop!addition #kpop!oc

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ah-ga-seven · 4 years ago

Text

Till The End of Summer - Chapter 15 (Bonus: The End)

>> series masterlist <<

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.

Genre: Fluff, Angst.

Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other; even though the world, Yeonjun’s family, past and reputation makes things complicated?

Word count: 7K

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: None??

Yeonjun was following you around the house like a lost puppy as you were running around like a crazy person, gathering stuff you needed while you were half-dressed and half ready to leave the house.

“Baby, slow down,” he says as he zipped up your dress from the back while you were putting on your heels.

“No, we’re gonna be late for our best friends' wedding. Ugh, I knew we shouldn’t have showered together, that always ends with dickstractions.”

Yeonjun stopped in his tracks, unable to suppress his laughter. “Did you just say dickstrations?”

You turn around on your heels, a little startled at how close he was. You hadn’t looked at him since he changed into his suit and suddenly you feel your mouth grow dry at the sight.

He noticed how you were gawking at him and grinned, holding you by your waist. “Like what you see?” he asks all seductively, running his hands through his roughly slicked-back black locks. He looked ravishing, even better than the runway models of his own fashion shows.

You nod, biting your lip as he inches closer for a kiss, but you stop him as realization hits you. “Babe no, my make-up.”

He rolled his eyes, letting go of you so you could finish getting ready, and sat down on your king-sized bed, watching you put on the diamond choker necklace he got you for Christmas last year.

“I can’t believe they’re getting married,” he mumbles as he stares into distance.

“That’s usually what happens when you get engaged, babe.”

Your tone was a little bitchier than you intended, but after 5 years of being together while all of your friends were getting married left and right, you had no idea why you hadn’t been proposed to yet.

The thing is, between Yeonjun starting his own luxury fashion brand and your demanding job at a scientific research facility, you haven’t had the time to even think about having a wedding of your own, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want one.

Yeonjun looked at you a little puzzled and just as he was going to open his mouth to speak, his phone started to ring.

You looked at him through the mirror as you put your diamond earrings on and by the frown that had taken over his features you knew it had to be work.

He picked up with a sigh. “I thought I told you not to call me today unless it was an emergency, so this better be good.”

Yeonjun as a businessman was a full 360 from who he was at home or with his friends. It’s not like he was an asshole but…the reason why his brand got to showcase its creations next to majors like Balenciaga and Céline so quickly wasn’t because of his soft side.

You make eye contact and you raise your brow in question, but he just silently mouthed that it was work as he opened your bedroom door.

He walked out, not wanting you to hear him rant to his employees about some fuck up on their side.

You quietly put your lipstick in your clutch as you hear him close his office door behind him. Well shit. It must be bad if he doesn't want you to hear.

You hoped that whatever it was wouldn’t spoil the mood.

You fix a piece of Yeonjun’s hair as he’s driving and pout. He was stressed and nervous, you could tell by the way he was biting the inside of his cheek. he was Soobin’s best man, and you were Mia’s maid of honor; so, you were heading there earlier to welcome the guests and help them wherever you could.

“Are you nervous baby?” you ask as you intertwine your fingers with his.

He sighs, raising your intertwined hand to his plump lips to give the back of your hand a sweet kiss before putting both of your hands in his lap. “I have so many responsibilities tonight, I thought weddings were supposed to be fun,” he mumbles, anxiety evident in his voice.

Yeonjun is a perfectionist, so everything had to go perfect today. And given the fact that he had quite the role to uphold tonight, if anything were to be less than perfect, he’d be to blame.

At least that’s how he sees it.

After all these years Yeonjun is still hard on himself, but since it comes from a place of love for Soobin and Mia his perfectionism is even worse.

“It’ll be funnnn” you drag your words as you shake his shoulder to get him to lighten up and it seemed to work as he displayed his pearly whites to you in a boyish smile.

When you arrive at the venue, you’re in complete awe of how beautifully the place was decorated.

White flower walls and branches were set up throughout the place, they had starlight projectors, big round tables for their guests and the stage was beautifully decorated with polaroid pictures of them and their loved ones.

It was breathtaking and absolutely adorable. From the details of the engraved silverware to all the guests' names on their respective champagne glasses, they literally thought of everything.

You excitedly look around as you hold on to Yeonjun's arm as you drag him around the empty venue. “Oh my god, and this! They’re polaroids from our college days look!” you point at one of the pictures on the flower wall in front of you and Yeonjun leans forward to look at the group picture of the boys, Mia and yourself.

“This was at my welcome home party, look. I’m knocked out on your lap.” You giggle excitedly and start looking at the other pictures with childlike enthusiasm and suddenly Yeonjun finds himself simping over how cute you are right now.

He looked around him and noticed how a few staff members were fixing some flower arrangements or plates without minding the two of you, which gave him the perfect reason to be clingy.

“You look so beautiful,” he says as he snakes his arms around your waist from behind, leaning his head on your shoulder.

You’re surprised by his sudden display of affection and try to turn around but he holds you in place as he softly kisses your neck.

“Yeonjun, stop. I swear if you leave a hickey, I’ll kill you. Both of our parents are coming.”

He smiles against your skin. “We’re adults.”

“No, I’m the adult, you’re a man child” you argue with a smile and he let out an amused chuckle, reluctantly letting go of you.

“Fine. Just wait till we get home.” He threatens as he casually smacks your ass.

Your moment was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat and when you turn around you are met with Soobin’s tall and handsome form.

He was wearing the white suit Yeonjun designed for him, his hair was slicked back and he had the prettiest smile on his face as he laid eyes on both of you.

“Soobin!” you yell as you launch forward to hug him. He stumbled a step back and chuckled as you hold him at an arm's length. “Wow, you clean up nicely. You look great! So handsome.” You compliment him with a wink and he smiles at you all giddily. “Thank you, you don't look so bad yourself.”

“Ok, enough doting on each other,” Yeonjun says rolling his eyes as he pulls you back so you’d stand next to him again. The action made both Soobin and yourself burst out into laughter.

“What are you jealous of, I’m literally getting married.’ Soobin boasts all confidently as he wraps an arm around Yeonjun. “I’m jealous that no one’s complimenting me.” Yeonjun pouts and your eyes nearly roll out of your skull as you hear Soobin trying to heal Yeonjun’s ego with compliments.

You softly knock on the door before you peek your head through and make eye contact with Mia through the full body mirror she was facing. Her parents were next to her as well as her brother and her make-up artist.

You both look at each other with shocked facial expressions and when you lock eyes with her, you immediately start to tear up.

She looked beautiful. The strapless lace mermaid gown she was wearing was absolutely show-stopping. Her hair was down, long and wavy, and her make-up was also flawless. You had never seen her like this, and suddenly it hit you that two of your best friends were getting married to each other.

“Mia…” your voice was almost inaudible and when she turned around to see the tears in your eyes, she started to choke up as well.

“Shit, no. Don’t make me cry, my face will melt,” she says as she starts waving her hands to fan herself and the two of you start to giggle as you move closer to embrace her carefully without ruining her attire.

You greet her family before they left to give you a moment alone and turn to her again once they left.

“How does Soobin look?” she asks all excitedly. They hadn’t seen each other today and looking at Mia you were sure that Soobin would start crying once he saw her. “Almost as pretty as you do,” you joke as you walk to the small window of her dressing room that had a view of the main entrance.

“Are you nervous?”

The place was already getting packed with friends and family, and you spotted the table you’d be seated at, seeing that the boys and their partners were already there.

“Nah, well maybe a little. I’m sure the nerves will go away once I look in his eyes.”

You pout at her cute statement and look at the clock. “Half an hour till showtime.”

“Oh, shit. Well, I have to get going. I’m taking some pictures with my family before the ceremony, I’ll see you in a bit!”

You nod at her with a smile as she rushes out of her dressing room and make your way down the stairs. You were scanning the halls for Yeonjun but couldn’t find him or the boys when you swore you just saw them.

Your parents would arrive any minute now too, so your mind was in overdrive trying to find any familiar face at this point. You decide to just make your way to your table but halfway there you felt a slight tug on your wrist.

“Y/n? Is that you?”

You turn around a little bewildered because you were so focused on finding either Yeonjun, your friends, or your parents but when you see the man in front of you, you almost want to disappear.

It’s your fucking ex-boyfriend. Of course, he’d be here, he’s Soobin’s cousin.

You try not to look too startled but when he goes in for the hug you can’t hide your shock at seeing him again after all this time. “Minjae?”

“The one and only.”

Ew. He’s still smug. What did you even see in him?

You look around quickly to find an excuse to leave but everyone was still missing from your assigned table.

“Can I just say, you look gorgeous. Red is your color,” he states while biting his lip as he looks you up and down. The action made you awkwardly scratch your neck in response. “Uhm, thanks.”

“Why are you alone?” he asks as he bit his lip, unapologetically looking you up and down.

“Oh, I can’t find my boyfriend, I think he went to prepare something with his friends.” You made sure to mention that you were seeing someone and that that particular someone was here with you right now, but Minjae didn’t seem to be fazed by the information

Your relationship ended on bad terms since he cheated and you. You left for college right after your breakup so you never really got closure, of course, you had to run into him here. Just your fucking luck.

“Hmm, is he in his right mind leaving a pretty girl like you all by herself out here?” he asks with a smirk while you try your best not to gag.

If you could tell him off, you would. But the last thing you wanted was to cause a scene at your best friends’ wedding.

“Uhm, I think I’m gonna go find him.” You try to escape but Minjae follows your figure and stops you from walking away by standing in front of you again.

“Wow wow, not so fast sweetheart, let’s catch up.” He caresses your upper arm and you flinch at the contact, subtly avoiding his touch.

“I know we didn’t end things on great terms but I’m a changed man, I swear,” he says as he takes a step closer. He was trying to intimidate you and clearly wasn’t fazed by the fact that people were passing by the two of you left and right as it started to get busier and busier while you only got more and more uncomfortable by his presence.

“Yeah…that’s nice Minjae but I-”

“and I mean, how serious could that relationship of yours be? I don’t see a ring on your finger.” He interrupts you, wiggling his fingers around to show that he wasn’t wearing one either.

You’re at a loss for words and just about had it. The audacity?

Soobin always hated Minjae, and now you are starting to understand why.

“Do you see the man on her arm?” Yeonjun’s voice was crystal clear.

He showed up out of nowhere, grabbing your hand to snake around his arm as he nonchalantly put his hand in his pocket while he looked Minjae dead in the eye with a stoic expression.

You cling onto him, relieved that he showed up. He checked on you quickly but when he saw the distress in your enlarged pupils his jaw clenched.

“Was he bothering you?”

Yeonjun didn’t give a shit. People were starting to look your way, including Soobin and his parents.

“I-”

“Oh, wait. You’re Choi Yeonjun, right? That designer.” Once again you are cut off by Minjae, and Yeonjun wasn’t having it, rolling his eyes as annoyance got the best of him.

“Yes. I’m surprised you know of my brand. Looking at your H&M suit I wouldn’t guess you could afford it.” Yeonjun says with a smug grin and all you can do is snort at his comment.

Minjae stiffened, not expecting Yeonjun to come for his throat like that but he tried to act nonchalantly; laughing it away.

“I-it’s Zara.” Minjae tries, but Yeonjun licked his lip as he looked down with a smirk. He pulled you into him and placed a kiss on top of your head. “Let’s get going baby. Soobin needs us to be ready.”

Yeonjun placed his hand on the small of your back to guide you to where Soobin was standing and you finally start to breathe normally again.

“Who the fuck was that?” Yeonjun asks visibly annoyed.

“Choi Minjae. I used to date him in high school,” You explain in a hushed tone as you make your way through the venue.

“Choi as in Soobin?” he asks wide-eyed

“Yes, they’re cousins.”

Yeonjun stayed quiet but you knew this would be a topic of discussion later on.

He wiped the annoyed scowl off his face as he approached Soobin and replaced it with a smile.

“What was that about?” Soobin asks as he turns to the two of you.

“Just Minjae being a dick. What else is new,” You sigh, making Soobin clench his jaw as he eyes Minjae who had by now sat down next to Soobin’s aunt and uncle at their assigned seats.

“It’s ok, Yeonjun told him off he won’t try it again. What’s a wedding without a little family drama am I right?” you try to calm Soobin’s protective side down a little, but even after all these years, nothing has changed in that aspect.

“He’s the ex that cheated on you right?” Yeonjun asked and you nod, giving him a look. “Let’s just let it go ok, the ceremony is about to start.”

Your attention is shifted to Hueningkai, who hugged Soobin from the back, making Soobin jump at the sudden attack. “Hiiii” he cooed as he rubbed his belly.

Soobin and Yeonjun start beaming at him and you watch them have their moment until he turns to you for a hug. “Hi babyface,” you tease, making Hueningkai cringe.

“Stop calling me that, I’m 25,” he complains, but he secretly loves it and before you knew it you were joined by Beomgyu and Taehyun.

It wasn’t long before the ceremony would start. Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Hueningkai stood on Soobin’s side of the altar, and you stood on Mia’s side with Ryujin and some of Mia’s childhood friends and cousins.

As both yourself and Yeonjun were appointed as maid of honor and best man, you stood in the front. Yeonjun stood with his head held high, eyeing you and giving you a mischievous wink as you made eye contact. You winked back with a smile which made him chuckle and look down to control his facial expressions.

When you look out on the crowd you make eye contact with your dad who was shaking his head with amusement at how childish the two of you were being and suddenly embarrassment flushes over you, especially when you saw that Yeonjun’s mother had the exact same expression on her face as she was seated next to your parents. A sight you could never get used to.

The music started to play, all of the guests stood up simultaneously and the large white double doors at the entrance opened to show Mia holding on to her fathers’ arm. People started to cheer including yourself and the boys, and without much time Soobin was already choking up and biting his lip to suppress tears.

Yeonjun looked at Soobin with glistening eyes, patting his shoulder to show comfort as Mia approached.

It was beautiful. All of it. From their vows to their first kiss as husband and wife, it was like a scene out of a movie. The pure happiness you felt for your friends was almost overwhelming and after congratulating the newlywed couple and dinner with soppy speeches by the boys, yourself and their parents it was finally time to party.

You helped Mia change into something more comfortable in her dressing room and sighed as you looked at her. “How does it feel to be married?” you ask with a smirk, which Mia reciprocated. “Not much is different, other than the fact that I can call him my husband.”

“Must be nice, I’m in my late twenties and still call Yeonjun my boyfriend. It’s getting weird. The questions of people around me are even worse.”

“Like what?”

“Why aren’t you married, don’t you wanna settle down? Are the two of you in an open relationship, are you sure he’s not cheating on you? The list goes on.”

Mia’s face contorted from confusion to disgust. “Who the fuck says that.”

“My co-workers.” You huff. “But enough about me, I’m sorry. This is your day.” You try to laugh it off, but Mia is a literal psychologist, so she wouldn’t just let this go.

“Hmm, no. The dance floor can wait,” she says as she sat down on the couch, patting the empty spot beside her to tell you to sit down.

You try to protest but she grabs your wrist and pulls you down with her, making you look her in the eye.

“Have the two of you talked about marriage?”

“Yes and No.”

“Does he know you wanna get married?”

“Yes.”

“Ok, then…why hasn’t he asked.”

“Girl, you tell me.” You sigh. “Do you think he’s having second thoughts? With his brand and the people he’s around, they're a different caliber of gorgeous.”

“Y/n.” Mia scoffs. “Yeonjun would die without you, and you know he isn’t that shallow. He loves you more than anything. He still looks at you the way he looked at you in college. Just talk to him…”

“And say what? Hey dude, why haven’t you proposed to me yet?”

“…yeah.” She shrugged, not getting why you wouldn’t just talk to him about it but you honestly didn’t know how to bring up the conversation. If you both talked about it and he proposed somewhere in the future, it’d mean that he did it because you wanted him to and not because he wanted to.

“I can’t do that; my pride is in the way.” You explain giving her the short answer to your thoughts.

“I can talk to him.”

“No Mia, please. No.”

“Ah, come on. I won’t make it obvious; you know me.”

Mia plopped herself down on the seat next to Yeonjun.

“So, when are you two getting married?” she says without a filter, making you choke on your drink. You had fire spewing from your pupils as you look at her, mouthing a ‘bitch what the fuck’ to her which she just shrugged off, turning her attention to Yeonjun.

“Uhm…” Yeonjun chugged his champagne in one shot and bit the inside of his cheek.

Shit.. he only does that when he’s nervous about something.

“I mean, we haven’t really had the time. Our jobs are too demanding right now.” He explains with a soft smile, hoping that Mia would leave him alone about it, but he knew better.

You awkwardly shift in your seat and wanted to avert the conversation, but the other boys were already busting it down on the dance floor with Soobin, meaning the three of you were alone.

Yeonjun looked at you and noticed that you weren’t looking at him or Mia and sighed.

“I don’t know, the whole concept of marriage is kinda outdated right? I mean no offense of course. You just got married.” He gave Mia one of his hypnotizing smiles but if you heard that right then that was the confirmation you needed. He got up, kissing the top of your head. “You coming to dance with me?” he asked innocently but you just shook your head.

He isn’t planning on proposing to you. Not now, not ever.

“I’m sitting this one out.”

Yeonjun nodded understandably and walked towards his friends, making a dumbfounded Mia look at you with concern.

“….He…thinks it’s lame?” Mia says confused as ever.

“I don’t know Mia, I’ll just let it go for now.”

“No, listen to me y/n. If this is what you want for your future, then you have to let him know. Otherwise, he’ll never get it. You don’t want to have to explain to your kids why daddy never married mommy.”

You sigh loudly, slouching in your seat while rubbing your forehead. “Wait,” Mia says. “He does want to have kids, right?”

“Yes, he does.”

“Ok…at least you have that in common.” She tries to joke to lighten the mood but you glared at her.

“Mia…”

“Ah, I’m sorry. I know it’s not funny.” She shrugged, holding out her hand. “Wanna go dance?”

“No, I’m gonna look for my parents and Yeonjun’s mom.” You say looking around to find them.

Mia pouted at your rejection but she understood that you weren’t in the mood right now. “I expect at least one dance with my best friend, ok?” she pouted at you and you give her a weak-hearted smile.

“Ok, I promise. But later, ok?”

She nods and you both get up as you part ways.

Yeonjun kept an eye on you and frowned when Mia approached without you.

“Where is she going?” he asked as he looked at Mia. “To say hi to her parents and your mom.”

Soobin wrapped an arm around Mia’s waist and pulled her into him with a twirl. “There’s my lovely wife,” he says as he pecks her lips.

“Oh, Jesus.” Taehyun says shaking his head. “We’ve entered a new era.”

“Let them be, they just got married.” Beomgyu chuckled as he swayed to the beat with Ryujin’s arms wrapped around his neck.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of calling you, my husband.” Mia says with a laugh as she threw her head back in laughter as Soobin attacked her with kisses, and suddenly the puzzle pieces fell into place for Yeonjun at the sight.

The realization took over his features and he was immediately alarmed.

“I’m gonna go find y/n.” he says without looking back at his friends before he storms off to find you.

“What do we do now?” Hueningkai asks in confusion.

“What was planned,” Mia says shrugging her shoulders.

Yeonjun arrived at the table both of your parents were seated at, but you were nowhere to be found.

“Hey dad, have you seen y/n?” Yeonjun asks putting a hand on your father’s shoulder.

Your dad looked up at him with a smile and shrugged. “Haven’t seen her kid.”

“She went that way.” Yeonjun’s mother says pointing to the main entrance.

Yeonjun nodded and wanted to bolt off into your direction but your mother stopped him. “Everything ok?”

“Y-yeah, I just need to tell her something,” he says as he rushed off.

The three of them follow Yeonjun with their eyes in confusion while his mother lets out an exasperated sigh.

“I hope it’s not serious.” Your dad says raising an eyebrow.

“Knowing my son, it’s serious.” She states as she downs her champagne, grabbing another one of the waiters’ tray swiftly as they passed by.

Yeonjun made his way outside of the venue. The sun had set and it was chilly out; making him worry even more because if you were out here, you’d probably be freezing.

He walked around the perimeter of the venue and stopped in his tracks when he saw you sitting alone on the steps, looking out on the lake with a wine glass in your hand.

He sighed as he watched you take a sip while you were lost in deep thought and took off the blazer to his suit as he approached you.

He draped it over your shoulders, startling you in the process but when you look up at him you instantly relax.

He sat down next to you with a low groan, taking the wine glass from your hold while taking a sip.

“That’s mine.” You try to sound playful but your tone of voice sounded rather sad, making him sigh while putting the wine glass down next to him.

“Why didn’t you tell me you want to get married?” He asks as he stares into what seems like your soul. It made you feel incredibly vulnerable and small.

“What did Mia say to you?”

“Nothing. It clicked to me when you walked off and then she called Soobin her husband and it just…”

He cut himself off as you avoided eye contact and closed his mouth with a slight pout.

“Baby…tell me.”

“Nothing I say will make sense to you,” you say with a bitter smile as you stare at the fountain in the middle of the lake. Your eyes fixated on the lights that changed color and your vision got blurry.

“Try me.” He says as he put his hand on your thigh but you stiffened at his touch, which made him frown. Having had enough of your vagueness he laced his fingers through your hair and made you look at him.

His sweet demeanor had shifted to a sterner one. He wanted answers, even if you thought they wouldn’t make sense.

He cocked his eyebrow and licked his lips, waiting for you to speak.

“Yes, I do, but I…” you take a deep breath to collect your thoughts and start rambling.

“Of course I want to get married to you Yeonjun. It’s been five years. Incredible years at that, but as time passes, I want to be able to call you my husband. I’ll be 80 years old with grandchildren and a boyfriend, and call me old-fashioned but that’s not exactly how I pictured my life to be.”

He pursed his lips together as he listened to you attentively, furrowing his eyebrows a little to understand.

“Yeonjun. If I have to tell you that I want to get married, then you’d only propose to me because I basically told you to do so and I don’t want that. I don’t want you to do something because you feel like you have to. If the thought never crossed your mind, then…that says enough”

“Y/n…I’m sorry. I just never thought that-”

“It’s ok. I’ll get over it.” You say interrupting him.

“No. Baby, hear me out.” He made you look at him again. “You have to realize that the only example of a marriage I ever had was the one my parents were in. They hated each other. Married out of a business agreement and stayed together because a piece of paper tied them together. I don’t want that for us.”

“Yeonjun, we’re nothing like your parents ever were.”

He wasn’t helping his case with that comment. You took his hand off of your cheek and reached over for your wine glass, taking a sip once you retrieved it.

Yeonjun’s eyes were darting back and forth, trying to find the right thing to say but he knew that nothing he’d say right now would make a difference.

“I’m sorry…” Yeonjun says with sadness. He looked like a lost puppy. Truly unable to grasp why you were so upset about this, and honestly you had enough of trying to explain to him why marriage was so important to you.

Your parents were the perfect example of a successful marriage, and all you wanted was something as genuine as their love.

“Can we just talk at home? I don’t want to spoil the mood for our friends. They must be wondering where we are.”

He sighed, rubbing his forehead in agony. He watched you get up and jolted upwards in lightning speed to match your tempo.

“I don’t want to go back in there like this, we need to talk about this somehow.”

“We just did Yeonjun. I want to get married, you don’t, and last time I checked I can’t marry myself so I’m just gonna have to deal with it.”

“Y/n..”

By now you had arrived at the entrance. You downed your drink and set the empty glass down on a random tray and waltzed inside of the ballroom with big strides.

“Hey bitch, catch!” Mia yells as she throws you her bouquet.

You hadn’t even noticed how the music stopped and look at her wide-eyed. What the hell was she thinking? Wasn’t the look of thunder on your face enough of a hint that you weren’t in for her jokes right now.

You look back and Yeonjun somehow disappeared from your line of sight, making you even more confused and annoyed than you already were.

“Mia, what the hell.” You furrow your eyebrows at her and notice how suddenly all eyes were on you.

People were standing in a circle and most of the tables were set aside to create the space that you were now standing in the middle of right now.

Soobin smiled at you, he wrapped his arm around Mia’s shoulder, pulling her into him as his eyes disappeared into crescent moons. He watched your eyes widen as Tae, Gyu and Kai approached you. Tae covered your eyes as Beomgyu and Hueningkai sat you down on a random chair they brought with them.

What the fuck was going on?

- Before the wedding -

“I can’t believe they’re getting married,” he mumbles as he stares into distance.

“That’s usually what happens when you get engaged, babe.”

Yeonjun looked up at you in surprise as you were looking at him through the mirror while putting on your earrings.

Are you on to him? He dumbfoundedly stared back at you, trying to find the right words to avert your attention to a different topic but then his phone started to ring.

It was Soobin.

His eyes widened. Lying wasn’t something he was good at, but he didn’t want you to catch on.

He picked up with a sigh. “I thought I told you not to call me today unless it was an emergency, so this better be good.”

He looked at you, mouthing to you that it was a work thing as he disappeared from your shared bedroom and into his home office.

He closed the door behind him, pacing back and forth.

“Sorry, y/n was in the room,” Yeonjun says with a relieved sigh.

“Is she suspecting anything?” Soobin asks a little worried.

“No, at least I don’t think so.”

“Good. We planned this for way too long for it to be ruined. Everything is set up. She won’t know what’s coming for her.”

Yeonjun smiled, retrieving the square box from his back pocket as he opened it, staring at the 12-carat diamond ring in its case.

“I hope so.”

As Taehyun removed his hands from your line of sight a still image was projected on the wall in front of you.

You blink a couple of times to look around and see how Mia and Soobin were giddily smiling at you. You give the boys a look but they just laughed it off, motioning you to look at the monitor, and that’s when the video started playing.

It was a full timeline of your relationship with Yeonjun, videos and pictures of your college days, videos of yourself and Yeonjun decorating the house for Christmas, family dinners, important milestones; he documented all of it.

Deep down inside you knew what was about to happen but after everything that just went down, it was incredibly hard to believe.

You're entranced by what you were seeing, completely frozen and in shock to even move until the video cut to a clip of Soobin and yourself as kids, you guessed you were about 5 years old at the time.

Little Soobin and yourself were having a pretend wedding ceremony, making everyone in the room swoon and chuckle.

You still remembered this day clearly. You made Soobin dress up with you and play house but 5-year-old you came to the genius realization that in order to play house, you’d have to get married first.

Your eyes started to water at the sight, and then your dad who was behind the camera cleared his throat in the video.

“Soobin, are you going to marry y/n when you’re older?” he asks panning the camcorder around to show that both of your moms were present too.

“Ew dad, no.” you crossed your tiny arms over each other and gave Soobin a grossed out glare.

“No, probably not.” Soobin agreed too as he shrugged his shoulders.

“But when I do get married, I’ll make sure y/n gets married too.” He says with a small lisp, determination evident on his features as he pursed his lips together to show off his dimples.

Your parents started to laugh in the clip. “That’s not how it works Soobin.”

“Yes it is!” little you agreed with Soobin, linking arms with him as you stared straight into the camera.

“Let’s pinky promise.” You grinned at him, linking your tiny pinky with his. “Promise!”

The video stopped and you wiped a tear from your face as you give both Mia and Soobin a sentimental smile. Beomgyu helped you stand up and ran off to stand next to the others, who were by now joined by your parents and Yeonjun’s mother.

Both yours and Yeonjun’s favorite song started to play softly, and you turn around to see where it was coming from as Daniel Caesars' voice rang through the speakers.

‘Through drought and famine’

‘Natural disasters’

‘My baby has been around, for me.’

You were met with Yeonjun’s charming smile as he walked closer to you, taking your hands to lace his fingers with yours.

“What is all this…” you look at him with watery eyes,

“Aren’t you going to keep the promise you made to Soobin?”

He smiled at you as he let go of one hand, taking a tiny black velvet box of out his pocket as he got down on one knee.

You cover your mouth out of shock, tears welling up in your eyes once more as you give him a small nudge.

“You asshole.” You huff in tears, making everyone in the room laugh including Yeonjun. "And all of you were in on it?" you ask looking back at your friends who were nodding their heads in unison.

You chuckled through your tears, averting your attention back to Yeonjun who was still knelt down before you.

“You’re my home y/n.” he says with watery eyes. “Throughout everything, you are the one thing in my life that is unchanged. I know it was far from easy to love me for the past 5 years, but with all the craziness you have stood by me. With this ring, I want to show you that I’ll stand by you too…until death do us part” he states with a soft smile, and by now your mother has started to cry, including Yeonjun’s mother; the ice queen herself.

“Y/n.” he says taking a deep breathe. “Will you marry me?”

You sniff your tears away, scrunching your nose as you start to nod furiously.

“Yes.”

Yeonjun smiled up at you, quickly putting the ring on your finger before he got up and spun you around in his arms as people started to cheer, even Minjae was bitterly clapping his hands to congratulate you.

Yeonjun hugged you tightly as you buried your face in his chest, crying at the surreal and perfect moment. He giggled as a tear ran down his face too. Burying his nose in your hair as he held you as close as possible.

“I love you,” you manage to get out before you lean in to kiss him.

“I love you too.”

- 1 year later -

“Oooh my god Mia, you’re about to pop.” Yeonjun says with big eyes as he opens the door for Mia and Soobin to enter your home.

Yeonjun and yourself had gotten back from your month-long honeymoon a few days back and you invited everyone over for a Sunday dinner.

“Gee thanks. It’s not like I’m 8 months pregnant or anything.” She huffs as she waddles to the living room to sit down next to Taehyun and his boyfriend of two years, who had already arrived prior to them.

Yeonjun chuckled, throwing an arm around Soobin.

“How are you holding up, father to be?” he asks as he squeezed Soobin’s shoulder

“I can’t wait till the baby comes. Her hormones have been crazy lately, she made me get cheese nuggets last night at 2 am.” Soobin says as he rubs his eyes.

“Oh, y/n makes me do that without the pregnant part.”

You emerge from your kitchen at the sound of your name. “You talkin shit Choi?”

“No, I just told Soobin how much I loved you.” Yeonjun says through his teeth with a smile and all Soobin could do was laugh at the interaction.

You roll your eyes, wiping your hands on your apron as you take it off.

“Dinner will be ready in like half an hour.” You announce as you walk into the living room.

When you lay eyes on Mia you immediately run over to her, squeezing her as you rubbed her belly. “She’s gonna be the cutest baby ever.” you pout.

“Have you thought of a name yet?” Taehyun asks as he reached over to touch Mia’s baby bump as well.

“We’re still deciding,” Mia says with a smile, and at that the doorbell rang once again.

You got up to open the door and were greeted with the smiles of a by now engaged Beomgyu and Ryujin, followed by Hueningkai and his girlfriend Won-young

The night was spent enjoying the food you made, you reminisced about your college days and talked about everything from your honeymoon to brainstorming baby names for Mia and Soobin.

Time flew by when you were all together.

The group was enjoying a drink at the bar area of your kitchen and you were pouring yourself a virgin martini in full concentration mode.

Yeonjun snakes his arms around your waist from behind and kissed your temple sweetly as he came to check on you. You leaned into his touch, the both of you stared at the group of people that you call your family, smiling contently as you look up at Yeonjun to peck his lips.

“When do we tell them?” he asks as he rubbed your tummy.

You turn around to face him, giving him a nervous smile. ‘I’m worried that Mia might give birth on the spot when she hears the news.”

Yeonjun snorted at your comment, touching your stomach once again as he stared down in wonder. “I still can’t believe it,” he comments as he's lost in thought to a month ago when you told him about it.

Yeonjun was quick to serve everyone a brownie for dessert, carefully instructing them to wait before they took a bite.

You got up to stand next to him at the edge of your dinner table and had the giddiest smile on your face.

“…Brownies?” Beomgyu asks wide-eyed.

“The last time you made these I developed PTSD.” Soobin says, reminiscing back to the night where you told everyone you had bagged an exchange to Brown University.

“So, you have news again?” Taehyun asks carefully and Yeonjun just nodded with a smile, pulling out his phone to record their reactions once they broke off a piece.

“You’re not immigrating to another country or anything this time, right?” Mia asked, making you and Yeonjun chuckle at the absurd guess.

“Come on guys, open it up.” You clapped your hands excitedly and waited for them to break off a piece with their forks.

Ryujin was the first one to catch on as she discovered the blue and pink cream filling, followed by loud gasps and screams from everyone.

‘WE’RE HAVING ANOTHER BABY IN THE FAMILY!?” Hueningkai yells with big eyes, asking for confirmation as everyone looked at the two of you with anticipation.

All you could do was smile and nod and suddenly you were bombarded with hugs, kisses, and even tears from an overwhelmed Mia.

“I-I’m s-so h-happy for you!” she sniffed through her tears as she hugged both you and Yeonjun clumsily yet tightly.

Soobin approached you next with a huge grin on his face. “Our kids are going to be just like us, like all of us” He said with watery eyes, looking at Yeonjun and the rest of the boys with proudness and love emitting from his pupils.

“Together forever.”

A/N: Thank you so much for the overwhelming love and support all of you have given me throughout the series. Till the End of Summer has officially ended.

I hope you enjoyed the journey as much as I did.

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mellowswriting · 4 years ago

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Home

pairing || Marcus Pike x fem!Reader

summary || Welcome home, Baby Pike! Sneak peeks of Marcus Pike being the best father and husband in the world.

words || 3,985

warnings || pregnancy and labor (no graphic detail), allusions to sex, BABY DADDY MARCUS PIKE Y’ALL, a somewhat physical altercation (Between Marcus and a stranger), fluff, mentions of breastfeeding, referenced breeding kink

Main Masterlist | Join the taglist!

You never expect your life to change on a Tuesday at two o’clock in the afternoon. In fact, you expected it to change three days prior on your due date, but Baby Pike decided that they wanted to make their entrance into the world a total surprise to everyone. After a morning full of what you thought were Braxton Hicks contractions, your water broke right in the middle of the living room. A small surprised yelp came from you, one that had Marcus scrambling from the kitchen to your side in an instant.

“Honey, what is it? Are you okay?” He asked, his eyebrows pinched together in worry.

“Yeah.” You said breathily, chuckling slightly. “Yeah, my water just broke.”

“What?” Marcus whispered and you watched as the realization broke across his face. He immediately held you at your forearms and eased you back to sit on the couch, a smile slowly growing on his face as he knelt in front of you. “Okay.”

“Oh my god, Marcus.” You stared at him, eyes wide, hands rubbing your belly almost absentmindedly. “Marcus, we’re having a baby.”

“Holy shit, we’re having a baby!” Marcus cried out excitedly and you couldn’t help but pull him forward to give him a kiss, one he eagerly reciprocated before pulling back suddenly. “I have to call Dr. Weston!”

At first, you had been pretty worried about how Marcus was going to handle your labor - the man could barely handle it when you had a headache, for god’s sake. But to your surprise, he shouldered the role of birthing partner with a calm demeanor. Firm and steadfast, Marcus let you drape your arms over his shoulders to support yourself through some particularly rough contractions, his voice low and reassuring as he met each of your fears with steady encouragement.

It really shouldn’t have surprised you, in hindsight.

Marcus practically ran after Dr. Weston to scrub up with her, intent on helping catch his little one ever since she brought it up and you confirmed that it was okay over and over; he never wanted to overstep, especially during such a serious, life-changing moment. His excitement was a beacon through your pain and exhaustion and frustration.

The last few pushes were rough. You were exhausted, everything hurt, and you were just over it. You were over all of it, and you wanted that damn baby out and you wanted to fucking sleep. Marcus could tell, his eyebrows pulled together in worry, but the second he stood from between your legs to return to your side, you gritted out that if he didn’t stay right there and help bring his child into the world, you would kill him yourself.

Understandable, but not your proudest moment.

With a dozen more pushes and the encouragement of both Dr. Weston and your fiancé, a shrill cry pierced the room, followed immediately by your fiancé’s amazed whispers of “Oh my god, oh my god”. Your little one was lifted up to your chest by Marcus’s sure hands.

“He’s so perfect.” You whispered, your voice hoarse and barely audible over his wails, tears of pain and exhaustion and joy falling once more as you cradled the perfect little baby against your chest. You laughed wetly and looked up at Marcus, your tears mirrored on his face, and you couldn’t help but say, “I told you he was a boy!”

“You were right.” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your hair before gazing back at his son and laying his gloved hand on his back. He didn’t bother trying to hold back the tears and neither did you. “You were so right. He’s so beautiful.”

After you and your son were both cleaned up and settled and one extremely personal visit from the hospital’s lactation consultant, you laid in the hospital bed with little Oliver held at your breast. The tiny baby was just as exhausted as you were it seemed, his eyes fluttering shut as he suckled. Marcus paced by the bedside, his phone cradled to his ear as he spoke to his parents.

“Yeah, she was amazing. You and Dad can come by once she gets some sleep, they’re both pretty tired.” Marcus kept his voice low even though he knew you weren’t asleep, trying to let you at least rest for a little bit. “Oh, he’s perfect. Seven pounds, eight ounces. Twenty inches long. He’s got a head full of hair, just like I did.”

The pride and happiness in his voice made you smile despite the exhaustion and soreness that radiated through your body. Marcus sat next to you once his call was over, resting his head on your arm as he gazed at you.

“Thank you.” Marcus whispered. His eyes were shining with more tears and an appreciation that took your breath away. “You have given me everything I’ve ever wanted and I just… thank you.”

“No, thank you.” You chuckled quietly. “I’m sorry I threatened to kill you.”

Marcus shrugged, an amused smile on his face. “I don’t blame you.”

You puckered your lips in a silent request for a kiss, something Marcus gave without hesitation. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Marcus gave you another kiss before leaning back in his seat, content to sit and watch the miracle that was his life. “Get some sleep, my love.”

---------

The first weeks at home with your little boy only confirmed the suspicions you had since the moment you met Marcus Pike - he was an amazing father. Beyond that, he was an amazing partner. Despite your insistence that he didn't need to, Marcus took it upon himself to bring you a glass of water and anything else you could possibly need every time you nursed. A pillow to prop up your feet, a book to read, the remote to pick a show to watch. Only when he was sure there was nothing more he could do, Marcus would sit next to you, happy to just enjoy the moment together.

A lot of promises were made, way back in the beginning of your pregnancy, a few of which you didn't even remember at first. But Marcus did, and that man followed through. Each time a tiny wail would echo through your home past ten o’clock at night, Marcus tossed back the blankets and was out of bed before you could even sit up all the way. Sometimes he would deliver a little bundle of hungry baby to your arms and then whisk him away back to his bed once his belly was full. Other times you would hear Marcus over the baby monitor as he hummed and sang and whispered to his son as he changed his diaper and rocked him back to sleep.

“Thank you. You’ve given me so much, I… thank you.” He murmured into your shoulder as he settled into bed behind you one night, having just put Oliver into his bed. “I love you so much and I promise you, I will give you the entire damn world.”

“You already have.” You whispered as you turned to kiss him.

---------

Somehow time managed to drag and fly by at the same time, the days, weeks, and months morphing together. Oliver grew like a weed, sleeping well and eating more than you thought he could even hold in his little belly. Every milestone he hit made pride swell inside you both. Watching Marcus interact with Oliver took your breath away more often than not. The second you passed Oliver off into his father's capable hands, Marcus was cooing at him, lifting him up in the air to see that gummy smile and hear that high peal of giggles each time Marcus gently jostled him about.

Going out in public with Oliver had a tendency to be nerve wracking, especially those first few times. But your worries about germs and public diaper changes quickly gave way to the fear and frustration that came from complete and utter strangers. It was the last thing you expected to be a problem and maybe that was naive of you, but holy shit. How many people thought it was perfectly acceptable to just harass parents while they’re out with their babies?

Too fucking many.

Oliver, on the other hand, loved going to stores, although the rhythmic swaying as he snuggled into either you or Marcus in his ring sling almost always had him knocked out within the first fifteen minutes. One second, those big brown eyes were taking in the bright lights and the next, he was conked out with his little cheek squished in the most adorable way.

He was snoozing against your chest as you perused the ice cream aisle, Marcus trailing a couple feet behind you with the cart as you both tried to pick out some flavors. You were so focused on the billions of choices in the freezer in front of you that you didn’t even notice the way the other man in the aisle was eyeing you.

“How old?” He asked, motioning to Oliver.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. All of the questions, god were you over it, but you weren't trying to cause a scene in the middle of the ice cream aisle. “Uh, four months.”

“Congratulations!” The man said and before you could fully process what was happening in front of you, he was reaching a hand out seeming to… touch your baby, what the hell did this guy think he’s doing!? You twisted away on instinct as both of hands came up to cover Oliver protectively, but before you could find your voice from under your shock to give that man a piece of your mind, Marcus swiftly stepped between you and grasped the man’s wrist.

In all your years of knowing Marcus, you had never seen his face so stoney. The muscle in his jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth, his eyes alight with anger, and all you could do was stare, wide-eyed at this fierce and protective side of your fiancé you had never seen before. Marcus didn’t say anything - the punishing grip he had on his wrist was enough to have him murmuring an apology and backing off. His face didn’t soften until he looked at you, his hand settling over yours on Oliver’s back as if he had to reassure himself that his son was still cradled safely between you.

“Are you okay?” Marcus asked.

You still couldn’t find your voice, though this time it was stuck behind a lump of admiration and appreciation and desire because holy shit. Watching Marcus shift from his usual goofy, loving self to someone who would readily and easily break the wrist of a man who had the audacity to try to touch you or your child… it stoked something deep in your belly, some fundamental, basic urge that made you crave him.

“C’mon, we don’t need ice cream. We need to go home.” You said, grabbing him by his forearm and dragging him back to the cart.

“Wait, I’m sorry.” Marcus’s voice was full of worry. “I acted like a caveman and it was ridiculous, I shouldn’t have -”

You cut him off with a kiss, leaning up on your tiptoes to firmly press your lips against his with your hand at the side of his neck. It pulled a surprised sound from Marcus but he gladly reciprocated, his hand finding your hip by habit.

“We aren’t going home because I’m mad, Marcus.” You whispered almost conspiratorially before jokingly covering the side of Oliver’s head, as if to keep him from hearing you. “We’re going home because I need you to fuck me.”

Marcus’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but a playful grin followed immediately after and he immediately grabbed the cart in one hand and intertwined his fingers with yours in the other. The shopping trip was only half successful grocery-wise, but in the end it was worth it to be able to drag him into bed and show him just how much you appreciated that protective side of him.

---------

The last thing Marcus wanted to do was go back to work. Walking out the door and leaving you and Oliver at home had been damn near impossible, but he really didn’t have much of a choice. He had used every second of his paternity leave and if he tried to weasel out of going back into the office, he was pretty sure he would get fired.

That first day was the worst. Marcus knew better than to call or text you constantly, but he missed being able to just see you and Oliver whenever he wanted. So instead, he checked his phone constantly, glancing over and over again just in case he received a text from you. Every now and then his phone would chime and it made him grin with each and every picture or small update you sent him. The little reminders of what he had waiting for him are what got him through the day.

Each week that passed, the wait for the clock to chime five o’clock became easier. His passion for his job reignited once he was steadily working again and his life felt so much more full than he ever thought it could be. He had a job he loved with an amazing team and a family at home that he cherished. It choked him up if he thought about it all too much, how he endured heartache after heartache, all the while thinking he would never actually get the life he envisioned for himself.

It made coming home to you and his son that much sweeter. Each evening played out by the same pattern; Marcus would plant a kiss to your lips and then Oliver’s head as he scooped him up to snuggle him, inquiring about how your day was and intent on hearing every silly little detail of whatever you got up to that day. A satisfied little smile found his face as just how full and happy his life was.

Bedtime routine was something Marcus excelled at; if there was a competition for getting a baby settled into their bed, he would win first place every damn time. You were jealous, there were no two ways about it. Yes, you could get Oliver down for the night just fine, but there was just something about the calming air Marcus carried about him that had the little one’s eyes fluttering shut.

You claimed that he was magic, but Marcus was sure it was just his boring office stories that knocked his son out.

Weekends were something special to Marcus. He loved the lazy mornings where he didn’t have to heave himself out of bed and creep around to get ready for work without waking the baby. Being able to instead appreciate how pretty you looked lost in your dreams and wake you with soft kisses was a gift he appreciated even before your family had grown.

Except now he got the added pleasantry of scooping up Oliver when he woke and bringing him into the big bed for you to feed him before Marcus could make him laugh that adorable laugh by popping up from behind the sheet he held in front of his face. Those cozy moments were his happy place, the fuel that got him through long days and sleepless nights.

Since the weekend brought all three of you together for the entire day, Marcus had taken a liking to offering to gather up Oliver after he had a full belly so you could have some time for yourself. It left him in awe just how much you did for your family, how hard you worked to keep the fires burning at home, and he wanted you to keep your fire burning within as well. The soft sounds of music and the perfumey smells of your bath products coming from under the bathroom door always made him smile, little Oliver curled against his chest. It was a win-win all the way - you got to relax without the immediate responsibility of childcare hanging over your head and Marcus got to bond with his kiddo.

Afterwards, Marcus would always bring the three of you together for some quality family time. Whether it was a simple walk through the neighborhood to the park a few streets away or a simple picnic in the backyard, Marcus loved getting to see you and Oliver bathed in sunlight, both of you cracking up as you tickled him while he tried to wiggle from your grasp. Oliver always ended up asleep at the end of the entire ordeal, exhausted from all of the fun and action, and Marcus always volunteered to carry him home, even when he had the empty stroller in front of him.

---------

You woke up feeling beyond well-rested. The heaviness that often plagued your eyelids had eased completely, leaving your eyes opening easily to blink against the sunlight peeking through the window. The sheets next to you were rumpled and cold and you shot upright on instinct. When you fell asleep, both Marcus and Oliver had been curled up with you, your son safe between both of his parents as he snored lightly. He wasn’t feeling well, a small fever and a case of the sniffles making him more clingy than usual, and neither you or Marcus could deny the puppy-dog eyes he gave from the foot of your bed when he toddled into your bedroom from his own.

The sound of Sunday morning cartoons eased the worry that prickled down your spine. With a quick stretch and a low groan, you tossed back the blankets and quickly made your way into the living room, and the sight that met you brought a small smile to your face. Both of your boys were still in their pajamas, a colorful pile of crayons between them where they lay on the floor as they scribbled away in a shared coloring book, the cartoons on the television entirely forgotten as father and son created yet another masterpiece sure to end up on the refrigerator with the half a dozen others. It took a moment for you to catch Marcus’s eye and he smiled at you in greeting before leaning closer to Oliver to whisper, “Guess who’s awake?”

Oliver’s head immediately snapped up to look around and he scrambled to his feet the second he saw you standing in the doorway. “Mama, mama, mama!”

“Good morning, little man!” You greeted as you scooped him off of his feet, his arms wrapping around your neck and tightening with a dramatic groan. You settled him on your hip and brushed his wild hair from his face. “Feeling better?”

“Better!” Oliver exclaimed, nodding so fast it made even you dizzy.

“I’m glad, baby.” You ruffled his hair, chuckling at his dismayed response of ducking away from your hand and wiggling from your grasp. His little feet took off running the second they touched the carpet, but your arms weren’t empty for long. No, Marcus stepped right into them and wrapped you in a warm hug, planting a kiss to the top of your head.

“We decided to let you sleep in.” Marcus said, his chest rumbling against you as you relaxed into his embrace. “His fever is gone, has been since around 7:30.”

“Good, I was worried we’d have to take him to the pediatrician.” You murmured before leaning up to kiss him soft and slow, breaking away at the sound of a pan hitting the floor in the kitchen. “Sounds like someone’s trying to make breakfast again.”

“Better get in there before he spills flour all over the floor again.” Marcus chuckled, giving your ass a quick pat as he followed the sounds of destruction.

Once Oliver had gobbled down a bowl of cereal and you had a cup of coffee to sip on, all three of you settled on the floor to finish up the drawing that Oliver insisted he needed both of his parent’s help for. He was all too happy to slap it on the refrigerator under one of his letter magnets before scampering off to drag all of his toys out for the first of many times. Marcus plopped down on the couch next to you, situating himself so he could lay his head in your lap.

Those pretty brown eyes of his fluttered shut with a pleased hum as you began running your hands through his hair, the untamed curls fluffy and soft between your fingers. He winced slightly at the familiar sound of Oliver’s toy chest dumping over in his room and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“So, I was thinking…” Marcus murmured, sleepiness returning to his voice under the relaxation your talented hands brought him.

“Don’t hurt yourself in the process.” You teased.

A pout formed on Marcus’s face and you leaned down to kiss his put out lower lip so he would continue. “I was thinking we could talk about if you want to do all of this again.”

“All of what?” You asked, your brain still booting up from sleep. Your fingers paused in his hair when it clicked. “Do you mean another baby?”

“Yeah.” Marcus’s voice was soft, quiet, as if he was fearing rejection.

“That’s ironic, actually.” You said with a small laugh. “I was thinking about asking you if you wanted to have another baby.”

“What?” Marcus sat up to face you, hope and excitement bright in his eyes. “Really?”

“Of course,” You shrugged as you reached out for his hand, your thumb swiping back and forth over his knuckles. “Ollie is gonna be in preschool soon and I think three-ish years is a good gap for siblings. He really would make such a great big brother. Besides, I already told you I wanted a full house. Wait, we would definitely have to find a new house. Shit. I didn’t even think of that. Maybe we should just -”

Marcus’s lips crashed against yours, effectively cutting off the worried words that were about to spill from you in a rush. The kiss was messy and broken up by the huge smile Marcus wore. “We can start looking now. That way we’ll have a new house by the time I get you pregnant again.”

A shiver rocked down your spine at his words, at how excited he was at the prospect of having your belly swell with his baby again. Marcus pressed his forehead to yours, eyes closed, the both of you just breathing in the moment of electricity. “Are you really ready to do this?”

“Hell yes,” Marcus said with an eager laugh, his voice lowering as he continued. “And this time I’ll know exactly what I’m doing. I’ll know I’m filling you up, getting you nice and round with my baby again.”

“Fuck, Marcus.” You whimpered, that familiar heat pooling in your belly.

“Just you wait until tonight, sweetheart.” Mischief was plain on his face, his bottom lip momentarily captured between his teeth as he gripped your chin in a gentle, yet firm hold. “I can’t wait to get you pregnant again.”

With that lewd thought, Marcus gave you another firm kiss before leaving you there on the couch to make another cup of coffee, probably to give you both the space to cool off. With a loud sigh, you leaned heavily into the cushions unable to contain the grin you wore. How lucky were you? An amazing husband who doubled as an amazing father to your sweet, happy little boy. Two thriving careers. And even more plans for your family’s future. Soon your son hopped his way back into the living room, insisting you and Marcus come see the tower he made with his blocks. Hand in hand, the two of you listened as Oliver explained his creation, happiness and hope hovering in the air around you.

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x y/n #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike

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franniebanana · 3 years ago

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CQL Rewatch - Ep 21

Note: I will be critical of Jiang Cheng in these posts. If you can’t handle that, please feel free to scroll on.

I really like this hug. I mean, if you've been reading these from the beginning, you know how much I love wangxian, but I'm really glad that Wei Ying's first actual hug after returning from the Burial Mounds is with Jiang Yanli. I'm not counting the hug with Jiang Cheng, because Wei Ying didn't hug him back. That hug was thrust upon him and he did not reciprocate. This reunion is very sweet, and tear-filled, and if I hadn't been up since 3 am, I might be feeling enough to shed a tear, myself. That being said, it's hilarious how they keep showing Jiang Cheng in the middle, looking awkward as he tries to balance joy and sadness. I get what the director had in mind, but it just looks weird lol.

But this part is also super sad, because Wei Ying again makes a promise he can't keep: that the three of them will be together forever. Now, I realize that if you hadn't read the novel or weren't familiar with the story, you should already know from the first two episodes that things do not turn out well for the three of them. However, if you're like me and have the memory of a goldfish, you probably didn't realize who everyone was in the first two episodes and even if you did, you've already forgotten long ago that Jiang Cheng was pissy and angry around Wei Wuxian and that Wei Wuxian's inner monologue reveals to us that JIang Yanli is dead. All that being said, his line about staying together forever hits a lot differently when you're very aware of how the story turns out, because Jiang Yanli dies, Jiang Cheng grows to hate Wei Wuxian more and more every day, and Wei Wuxian, of course, defects to save the Wens from slaughter. I think "let's stay together forever" is something you say and mean, but something that you know can't ever truly be. I think Jiang Yanli is old and wise enough to know that she will eventually marry and leave Lotus Pier, even though she will resist it for a while. The rest is uncertain, but I think at this point, Wei Wuxian really does believe and want to stay with the Yunmeng siblings and to stay at Jiang Cheng's side as he leads the Yunmeng Jiang Sect.

I will never not be heartbroken by this scene--even knowing how everything turns out--by how Lan Wangji looks at Wei Wuxian, how if things had been different in Yiling, he would have gone into that room and greeted him, how Wei Wuxian would have smiled at him and beckoned him inside, how they would have sat and Wei Wuxian would have talked Lan Wangji's ear off, like old friends. It's just so upsetting to me, and I can't ever shake that feeling in the pit of my stomach. I know what happens, but these two episodes, until they reconcile, really get to me. It's a horrible feeling when you want to help someone, but they don't see it as helping, and they only get upset with you. I deal with that on an almost daily basis, and I wouldn't wish that feeling on anyone. I really identify with Lan Wangji here, and I think that's why I get such a visceral reaction to seeing him like this.

I don't know if I've said this, but Lan Wangji is my favorite character in CQL and in every adaptation of this story. He is kind of my perfect character--he checks off all the boxes: one-sided love, pining, standing by the main character no matter what, practically abandoning his own family for the person he loves. I love that he has an almost child-like innocence, but he's still very wise; he's smart; he's strong; he has a strict moral code and he sticks to it without fail, even if it means going against his friends and family; he's a loner, but he loves deeply. When I first started watching the donghua and reading the novel, I liked Wei Wuxian the best, and he's still my second favorite character, but Lan Wangji has stolen my heart.

Of course, Wei Wuxian goes to this awkward dinner party, after spending three months around ghosts (and then killing a shit-ton of Wen soldiers), and all he can think about is that empty seat behind him, the one where Lan Wangji should be sitting. It's interesting how the Yunmeng siblings each react: Jiang Yanli starts to become concerned and commits it to memory. She's probably wondering why Lan Wangji isn't there, and then seeing how Wei Wuxian wistfully stares at the empty seat, she finds it even more unsettling. Jiang Cheng just seems embarrassed by Wei Wuxian here and his motivation is to get Wei Wuxian back on track so he doesn't make fools of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect in front of the other leaders. He obviously knows what happened between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, and I don't think he's bothered by it at all. He doesn't seem to care whether they're friends or not, and I'd say that even at this point, he'd prefer if Lan Wangji stayed out of Wei Wuxian's life altogether. He knows how close they were, and I think he also knows that Wei Wuxian would choose Lan Wangji over him if given that ultimatum. With Lan Wangji out of the picture, Jiang Cheng gets to maintain more control over Wei Wuxian than he otherwise would. Even later on at Lotus Pier, he wants Wei Wuxian around, helping him, being his right-hand man. He doesn't want him wandering around the city or galavanting off with other cultivators. Granted Wei Wuxian was drinking at the time, but I don't think that invalidates my point that Jiang Cheng wants Wei Wuxian to stay in line and stay at his side where he can control him. You know, because he sees the relationship (as Wei Wuxian suggested) as the same as their two fathers: where Wei Wuxian is in a subservient role to Jiang Cheng. Mind you, that's different from seeing him as a brother, and I think, while there's some of that mixed into his other feelings, it's a very small portion.

No screenshot, but the following scene, after Wei Wuxian leaves the dinner party, Jiang Cheng follows him out. And even here, he asks what's wrong--asks if he's upset because of Lan Wangji--but then scoffs at how that could really be what's bothering him. He says something like, "Why did you come here just to be disliked by him?" I think while he gets that they have a close bond, he doesn't really understand the depth of the relationship. He's jealous of Lan Wangji, but doesn't fully understand why. Ultimately, I think Jiang Cheng, because of his parents and the way he was raised, really doesn't understand what it's like to have a good relationship with anyone. And this ignorance isn't his fault--he's a product of his parents and surroundings, and no one, including himself, has ever tried to fix this. So, without being able to really understand how relationships work, he scoffs at how Wei Wuxian could still be upset over what happened with Lan Wangji. Jiang Cheng essentially gave Wei Wuxian what he wanted in that moment, which was unconditional support to carry out his revenge, and yet Wei Wuxian is hung up on Lan Wangji not being supportive there, and in fact being in opposition to him. Jiang Cheng doesn't even really have friends, so he thinks Wei Wuxian should just get over Lan Wangji and move on with his life, but it's not that simple. Lan Wangji isn't just an acquaintance, he's not just someone that Wei Wuxian partnered up with to fight a battle or carry out a mission--he's a soulmate, a kindred spirit (if you want to go down a less romantic route).

I rarely can say anything bad about Jiang Yanli (except how she's almost always making soup), and here's another example: Chenqing. She's so far the only one who supports Wei Wuxian having a first class spiritual tool. She immediately shows interest in the flute, even encourages him to give it a name. Lan Wangji immediately sees the flute as something bad, while she's completely supportive. And this is really what Wei Wuxian needs right now, and I love her for being there. She's also about the only person he will genuinely smile around. He gives everyone else forced or fake smiles, but not Yanli. At this moment, I think he only wants to be with her, and I can't really blame him when everyone else is either opposing him or just wanting something out of him. She really is coming from a place of sympathy and comfort that's different from how the others are handling things. Lan Wangji wants to help, yes, but he tries to force it.

Imagine being in this room, listening to Jin Zixun (I'm not even sure if that's his name lol) trash talk Wei Wuxian, wanting to say something in his defense, but being unable to, not just because it's not your place to do so, but also because you're not even sure if you can defend him anymore. I think Jiang Cheng is struggling with the same. He stands up to Jin Zixun, finally getting him to shut up by saying that it's a domestic affair for the Jiang Clan and none of his fucking business, but Jiang Cheng also struggles to find excuses for Wei Wuxian. And that would certainly be difficult, because Wei Wuxian is somewhat like a stranger now. He's similar, but he's not the same Wei Wuxian that Jiang Cheng grew up with. He's really a shadow of his former self. But Lan Wangji has the added bonus of not being able to speak on his behalf because he's not even in the same clan--who is he to defend Wei Wuxian? He can't even stand with the others at the table (can't or won't, I'm not sure), so he certainly can't speak to Wei Wuxian's honor in front of all the other leaders. I'm sure the conversation back in Yiling is still running through his mind: this is a Jiang Clan affair--and to have that repeated again to someone else. That very much puts Lan Wangji in the "other" position. He's not in Wei Wuxian's clan, therefore, it's none of his business. He should care about him. He shouldn't try to protect him. He shouldn't try to guide him. But the problem is he still cares deeply about Wei Wuxian, and he wants to help him and protect him and guide him.

These scenes are always hard to watch for me (thank god for the special edition cut). It's really hard to watch the clans doing to the Wens what the Wens have done to the other clans. As if war wasn't already terrible enough, you also have what happens to the prisoners of war. In this case, Wen Qing's sect are all healers and have little to do with the war that the rest of the Wen Clan was waging on the other cultivation clans. However, they are still treated as enemies and imprisoned. It's difficult to watch the other clans, who you want to root for, making the same mistakes and transgressions as the Wens, who we are supposed to look at as the proper enemies in the story.

As we've seen a few times in this episode already, Wei Wuxian is having trouble controlling all the negative energy that's surging through him and the Yin iron, and on some of those occasions, he's touched his old wound. As he does this here, everyone looks at him, but he just looks at Lan Wangji. This is the person he cares most about in this room, the person whose heart his closest to his. I have nothing profound to say--I just like it.

And of course Lan Wangji looks right back at him. He knows Wei Wuxian best, even better than his own "brother", Jiang Cheng. He knows what happened in Xuanwu Cave, he saw the effect the sword had on him. I feel like each time they exchange glances, they are both crying out to each other, but Wei Wuxian is too stubborn to ask for help and Lan Wangji doesn't want to force the issue and strain their relationship further.

The way Lan Wangji hesitates here before saying, "I don't know," kills me. To him, it's just further proof of how Wei Wuxian is getting farther and farther from him, how the chasm between them just keeps growing. He's upset here. He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't want to force Wei Wuxian to do anything--that's against his clan rules, but more importantly, against his own ethics--yet he doesn't want to stand by and do nothing while his friend destroys himself. I think we see Lan Wangji as a character who always knows what to do, someone who always knows the right path, but here we see how that's not true at all. This is a man who is very smart, very clever, but who is also unsure of himself. He's struggling with what's right and wrong. And he consults his brother here, hoping to get a clear answer, so that he'll know what to do next, but he gets nothing of the sort.

It would have been easier for Lan Wangji if his brother has simply said, "Wei Wuxian is wrong and an enemy," but of course he's more wise than that. Nothing is black and whit, and humans cannot be judged for what's on the surface. You have to look deep inside a person, know their intentions, and then you can judge if they are doing what's right or wrong. The problem is Lan Wangji doesn't know Wei Wuxian's intentions. Months ago, he know Wei Wuxian wanted to defend the weak, protect people who couldn't protect themselves, and live by such a just moral code. But now Wei Wuxian seems like a stranger, has murdered many, many people, and has taken cruel revenge upon Wen Chao and Wang Lingjao.

What I've noticed in this episode is that Wei Wuxian will look at Lan Wangji, but he always averts his eyes fairly quickly. It's as if he's afraid if they make eye contact for too long, he'll be letting Lan Wangji in, which he does not want to do under any circumstances. Letting Lan Wangji in means admitting what's going on as well as opening up Lan Wangji to danger. Wei Wuxian does not want anyone else getting hurt or dying because of him, so it's better to reject everyone and focus on his own clan.

Honey, I'd walk away too. It's hard to tell if Lan Wangji is about to cry or about to punch Wei Wuxian in the mouth--either one would have been excellent, but I'm leaning towards the latter. Lan Wangji had to answer Jiang Yanli. She met him by chance, but it was she who initiated the conversation. Of course, angst rules being what they are, we had to have a misunderstanding a la Wei Wuxian walking into the conversation midway and making the asinine assumption that Lan Wangji was just breaking his confidence by telling her EVERYTHING. Of course, anyone who knows Lan Wangji knows he'd never do such a thing. But when Wei Wuxian's shijie comes to him, voicing her concern and asking about him, he has no choice but to empathize with her and tell her what he knows.

I really like this little exchange. Reliving the fight on the rooftop, before they were acquainted, before they were friends--before Lan Wangji fell for him. This time when he attacks, it's not about malice, it's not about breaking the rules and bringing liquor into the Cloud Recesses--it's a man, looking at the one he loves, scared out of his mind, worried that that man is going to destroy his mind and body, using a taboo cultivation method. This fight is a love letter, as far as I'm concerned. It's an act of desperation.

Also I fucking love that around four or five people have asked Wei Wuxian where Suibian is, and each time he makes up a lie: he forgot it, he isn't in the mood, he didn't bother to bring it. But when Lan Wangji asks him, he doesn't respond. He doesn't lie, he doesn't laugh it off--whatever he does, Lan Wangji will know that he's lying, and Wei Wuxian knows that.

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