#I was doing okay until my aunt texted and bought it to the front of my mind

[voiceoftheashari]

2 years

[ladyeyrewrites]

Feelings Hurled Like Hand Grenades

Read from Chapter One

Rated M

4,336 words

Chapter Eighteen: A Blow to the Status Quo

TW: transphobia, mentions of child abuse and child neglect

“Where’s your head at?” Kittie asked as she and Tony packed up their booth for the night. They were at a tattoo expo and usually Tony enjoyed these busy whirlwind weekends, but he was definitely distracted this time, wondering how Naomi was settling in at Buck and Tommy’s, spacing out, giving lack lustre answers, forgetting people’s names. Honestly, Tony was surprised that Kittie had waited until the end of their second-to-last day at the Expo to say anything.

“Sorry.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Family stuff.”

“Thought everything was going well with Tommy,” said Kittie as she locked up the cashbox and put it in her purse for safekeeping. Sure, the venue had overnight security, but Kittie was never one to trust in rent-a-cops, and Tony supported her paranoia on that front. “Did something happen?”

Tony sighed. Where to even begin? He’d never been shy about sharing things with Kittie, but that only applied to his secrets. He couldn’t really tell Kittie the whole story unless Noami was cool with Kittie knowing everything. “It’s not Tommy,” he said. He fished his phone out of his pocket and texted Naomi’s new number (Buck had gone out and bought her a new phone too and they’d scrapped the old one so it couldn’t be traced): Okay to tell Kittie?

“In fact,” Tony continued. “I'm really grateful to Tommy right now.” If you’d told Tony all those months ago at his grandmother’s funeral that he’d be uttering those words in relation to Tommy, he’d have scoffed. But it was true. Tommy was able to be there for Naomi in ways Tony couldn’t be right now, and in a weird way, it almost made up for Tommy leaving. It didn’t erase what Tommy had done (nothing could) but Tony had been thinking a lot over the last week about the fact that the reason Tommy could provide a safe place for Naomi now was because he’d severed ties with the family twenty years ago. Naomi was safe because Dad didn’t know where Tommy lived.

And maybe that felt a little like fate to Tony, even though he didn’t believe in things like that.

Read the rest on Ao3 or after the cut

His feelings were still a bit muddy about everything, but one conclusion Tony had come to was that if his childhood suffering was the price to pay for Naomi’s safety, he’d gladly do it all again, every last rancid minute of it. Every bruise, every insult, ever incident of neglect. He only wished they’d been able to help Naomi sooner.

His phone buzzed with a notification, and he checked it to find a text from Naomi the consisted solely of a thumbs up emoji. Tony smiled, as much as things had changed recently, Naomi was still as taciturn as ever when it came to texting. He texted a thumbs up of his own and followed Kittie out of the convention centre towards their hotel.

“So,” he wasn’t exactly sure how to go about telling Kittie about Naomi’s news. “So, you know how I have two younger siblings?”

Kittie gave him a look like he was being a total dumbass, made more potent by the fact that her eyeliner had smudged a bit under her eyes and she had this whole sleep-deprived, no-more-fucks-to-give kind of vibe going for her.

“Yeah, turns out I have two little sisters,” Tony said. Surely that made things clear enough for someone as keyed into the queer community as Kittie to understand. “Simone and Naomi.”

“Oh,” said Kittie. “That was really brave of Naomi to tell you. Is it okay that you told me?”

“Yeah,” said Tony. “I checked first. I’m not about to out my little sister without her permission.” Also, I’m not sure how brave Naomi’s really feeling right now. She kind of didn’t have a choice.”

“What do you mean?” Kittie asked.

Tony took a deep breath, anger suffusing him as he recalled the memory of that night. and how differently things might have gone. “Dad found her estrogen and almost killed her,” he said. “She showed up at Aunt Gina’s house covered in bruises. He broke her fucking nose, Kittie.” He clenched his fists. “God, I was so angry. I wanted to kill him. Part of me still does.”

“Well, I’m really glad you didn’t,” said Kittie. “Although, I’d still want to be friends with you if you murdered a transphobe.”

Tony chuckled. “Anyway. “Naomi's safe now. She’s staying with Tommy and his fiancé down in LA.”

Kittie let out a heavy sigh. “Geez, T, no wonder you’re distracted.”

“What do you mean?” Tony asked, though he suspected he knew where Kittie was going to take this.

“You live for that kid, T,” said Kittie. “You helped bring her into the world and you’re used to her being within a twenty minute drive of you at all times and now she’s at the other end of the state. That’s gotta be killing you.” She shook her head. “You’ve never handled change well, my friend. You either shut down or you lash out and right now it feels like you’ve chosen not to lash out, so you’re shutting down.”

And that was honestly a pretty fair assessment. It was true. He started getting into fights after Naomi was born and then again when Simone came along. And now, Naomi was gone and his knuckles were starting to get that familiar itch but he wasn’t about to give into it. He was going to resist and what better way to avoid fights than to turn inward.

They reached their hotel room and Tony plopped face first onto the bed, leaving his booted feet dangling off the end. The cool clean sheets felt heavenly against his cheek.

“Mind if I take the first shower?” Kittie asked.

“Go for it,” Tony said into the pillow. Kittie must have interpreted his muffled mumblings correctly because minutes later he heard the shower start and Kittie’s habitual humming.

With a groan, Tony forced himself to roll over and sit up so he could take his boots off. Then, he opened his phone and scrolled through the pictures Mikey had been spamming the group chat with.

There was one of Annie and Tommy on the sofa, legs propped up on matching cushions with an enormous bowl of popcorn.

Another of Mikey and Cassie riding the Ferris Wheel at Santa Monica pier.

There was also a litany of messages in Mikey and Tony’s private chat where Mikey gushed about how cool Lucy was and how was it real that she was into him and Tony reassuring Mikey that he was a catch despite Tony honestly having no clue what a badass firefighter pilot like Lucy Donato saw in his dorky brother, but he wasn’t about to tell Mikey that. He was genuinely happy that Mikey was moving on. So, why did it make him feel so lonely?

So left behind?

Stuck?

Tony shoved the thought down and continued scrolling through photos of Cassie with Buck and Tommy at the aquarium with sparkly face paint as she watched the mermaid show. Photos of his nieces with their new favourite uncles baking cookies. Photos of Cassie and Annie dressed in oversized firefighting gear from when Buck gave them a tour of his station. They were cute pictures and he was glad they were having a good time (sprained ankles asides). Really, he was.

And he was having fun with Kittie at the expo and catching up with old friends he only saw a couple times a year. An exhausting kind of fun, but still fun. And he didn’t regret being here. He’d looked forward to coming.

And yet never in his life had he felt the desire to be in two places at once more.

Tony was so absorbed in looking at the picture on his phone that he didn’t hear the shower go off and was only alerted to the fact that Kittie was done by her appearing before him in one of the hotel robes and her hair done up in a towel. “Why didn’t you ever leave town the way you always said you would when we were in high school?”

Tony looked up from a picture of Cassie eating cookie dough with a spoon and flour streaked across her nose and cheek. Which was absolutely adorable, and he desperately needed a framed printout of it. “Uh, random.” he said. “Besides, who’d have your back if I left?”

Kittie crossed her arms and gave him one of her looks. It wasn’t quite as impactful without her usual graphic eyeliner, but he got the gist. He needed to stop being deliberately obtuse. “I’m serious, T,” she said. “You’ve always hated our hometown. Back in high school, you had all these dreams. What happened to going to Paris and studying art? You were going to travel the world. Write a novel. What happened?”

“You know what happened,” said Tony, bristling. Where was Kittie going with all this and why had she brought it up at all? “I got sent to juvie and kicked out of school. Besides, Paris was never going to happen. How was I ever going to be able to afford it? It was just a pipe dream. A kid’s fantasy.” Though, it had still torn him apart to realise he was never going to leave. That he’d never had a chance from the start. That he was always destined to live out his life in the same crappy town, surrounded by the same crappy people (with a few exceptions) as the world passed him by. “Besides, someone had to protect No-Naomi.” Some emotion he’d been keeping at bay until that moment broke free and tears sprang to his eyes. “And I failed, Kittie. That human nuclear waste dump almost killed her while I was at a fucking party.”

He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, trying to stop of the flow of tears made hot with shame.

The bed shifted next to him and then he was pulled into Kittie’s soft embrace, made softer by her terry cloth cladding. “Hey,” said Kittie. “She’s safe now. It sounds like Tommy’s taking good care of her.” She rubbed a hand along his back, and he pressed his face against her robed shoulder, let his tears flow freely.

“But I’m not there,” he sobbed. “She needs me and I’m not there. What good am I?” Because the reality was, Tony hadn’t given up his dreams of Paris and art school because they were unattainable, but because he’d been so afraid that he’d become for Naomi and Simone what Tommy had been for him until recently: a vessel into which he could pour all his anger and disappointment. A scapegoat.

And Tony would gladly give everything up to not be hated by the people he loved most in the world.

And yet, he still hadn’t been enough.

The next few minutes were a blur of tears and Kittie’s soothing sounds until Tony finally got his breathing under control enough to speak. He pulled away from Kittie only enough so that he could rest his head on her shoulder and speak without his voice being muffled by her robe. “I feel like such a failure, Kit.”

Kittie sighed; arm wrapped around his shoulder as she pulled him into a side hug. “T, I love you like a brother,” she said in the tone of voice that definitely implied there was a “but” coming next. “Maybe it’s time to let go.”

Tony frowned and lifted his head from her shoulder so he could look her in the eye. “Let go of what? My sister?”

Kittie gave him a sad smile. “Whatever it is that’s been holding you back all these years, T.” she said. “I hate seeing you so miserable all the time.”

Tony wanted to protest that he wasn’t miserable, but he knew it was a lie, because he had to dig through his memory back to when he was a small child, and his mother was still alive to find any memories of when he was truly happy without any fear or anxiety adulterating the joy. Tony sighed, unsure what to say. And even that memory was vague, like something out of a dream half-remembered.

“Just think about it, okay,” said Kittie.

Tony nodded, promising that he would, even though the very idea of doing what Kittie suggested and making some sort of massive life change had all the appeal of jumping off a cliff without a parachute. That was to say, none.

And yet, Kittie had a point. His life had grown stagnant since getting out of juvie. Sure, he’d gotten a job, moved out of his dad’s house and gotten his anger mostly under wraps, but had he actually done anything with his life besides offer a soft place to land should Naomi need one and he’d ultimately failed to provide her with that.

Maybe Kittie was right and there was something more he could be doing with his life. Only, he had no idea what.

#

Tony spent the final day of the expo mulling over Kittie’s words and what sort of change he might make in his life and being precisely as helpful to Kittie as he had been the rest of the long weekend: not at all as helpful as he should have been, but Kittie seemed to understand. At least, Tony hoped she did.

The drive home was much the same, flying by in a haze of existential angst.

Veronica was waiting for him outside his apartment when he got back from the Expo the next day. He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised to see her, but he was. Or maybe he’d been hoping she wouldn’t be there, because he wasn’t sure he had the energy to talk to her. Honestly, it was bit surprising that she’d taken this long to come to him. Or maybe it wasn’t that surprising given the fact that Naomi had made a habit of hiding out at Tony’s for days on end for years, more so since graduation.

Veronica probably thought Naomi was there now. And ordinarily, Tony might have sympathised with Veronica worrying about the welfare of her child, but right now all he could think was that it was too little, too late and he was not in the mood to deal with her.

“Not now, Ronnie,” he said, fitting his key in his front door. “I’m exhausted.” Which was true. These events always wore him out and he’d already been tired from everything that had happened with Tommy and Naomi the week before.

He just wanted to fall into his bed and sleep for fifteen hours before he had to be at work again, but it didn’t seem like Veronica was going to take no for an answer. There was a wild desperation in her eye, which was more emotion than Tony had seen from her in a very long time. Maybe this whole situation with Naomi – as much as Tony wished it had never happened – would finally be the straw that broke Veronica’s willingness to stay with Tony’s father.

“Please, Tony,” said Veronica. “I haven’t slept in a week. I need to see my son.”

“Not here,” said Tony, pushing his door open and dropping his duffel bag next to his shoe pile. He didn’t stop Veronica from following him, but he also didn’t invite her to stay.

“Where is he?” Veronica demanded following Tony into the galley kitchen. “Where’s Noah?”

“Safe,” said Tony, opening his fridge and finding absolutely nothing of interest. He groaned. He should have thought to place a grocery order to arrive around when he got home, but he’d been so preoccupied with what Kittie had said about him needing to let go that the thought had never occurred to him. And now all he had in his fridge was sludgy oat milk and half an onion. Not exactly something he could make a nutritious meal from.

Sunday night didn’t exactly provide the widest variety of takeout options, but he’d have to make do. He closed his fridge, manoeuvred around Veronica, and opened the junk drawer, pulling out a stack of takeout menus.

“Where is he, Tony?” Veronica’s voice took on an even more desperate tone. “I need to see him.”

For some reason, it made Tony angry because where was this motherly instinct up until now, huh? “I don’t trust you not to tell Dad,” Tony snapped, scowling at her.

Veronica’s mouth snapped shut, eyes wide like he’d slapped her. But she didn’t protest. Heck, Tony wouldn’t have put it past his father to have sent Veronica here to figure out where Naomi had gone so that he could either drag her back home and beat her into gender conformity or finish the job he’d started and kill her.

“Yeah, I’m not going to tell you,” Tony decided out loud. “But let me show you exactly what your husband did to your kid.” Tony dumped the takeout menus on the counter and fished out his phone. He pulled up the photos Tabitha had taken and shoved his screen towards Veronica. “Look.”

Veronica flinched, but to her credit, she didn’t shut her eyes or turn away. She took the phone from Tony’s hand and scrolled through the pictures documenting the extent of Naomi’s injuries. Her eyes filled with tears, and she brought one hand up to cover her mouth as though trying to physically keep a sob from spilling out.

“That’s who Dad is, Ronnie,” Tony said, gesturing towards a photo of Naomi’s purpled ribs. “He would have gone further if given half a chance, and then we’d be holding a funeral. Is that what you want?” He hated himself for summoning up the image of Naomi dead and buried under a headstone bearing a name that wasn’t hers, listing her as “son and brother” instead of “daughter and sister” but how else was he supposed to convince Veronica of the severity of the situation?

Veronica shook her head, eyes widen with awful understanding.

“What if next time, it’s you or Simone?” Tony asked. “I don’t want to get a call from the police telling me he’s killed you.”

“I can take care of us,” said Veronica, voice hoarse with unshed tears.

“Really?” Tony scoffed. “Does that look like you taking care of things?” He dragged his finger across the screen to a close-up of Naomi’s bloody scalp. Scrolled to one of Naomi’s obviously broken nose, her bruised orbitals, her bloody lip from where her tooth had nearly pierced all the way through. “Stop being so naive, Ronnie.” And maybe this was what Kittie was talking about: this need to protect not only his younger siblings but also Veronica. But she was a grown woman, over ten years his senior. She didn’t need his protection. Maybe it was time they both realised that.

Tony sighed and took his phone back. “I love you, Ronnie, but I don’t think I can stick around to watch you get yourself killed.” And those words were seemingly all it took for the crack in the dam to break open. “I thought I had to stay for you and those kids because no one stayed for me. I know what it’s like to the one left behind, and I didn’t want to be the one to do that to someone else.” He shook his head. “But maybe I didn’t get left behind. Maybe I’ve been letting what happened to me as a kid hold me back. And maybe it’s time I moved forward.”

“What are you talking about, Tony?” Veronica wiped her eyes on her sleeve, seeming less on the verge of tears and more wary than she had a moment before.

Tony didn’t know what he was going to say until he opened his mouth and the words “I’m leaving,” spilled out. But those words felt right. They felt truer than any punch he’d ever landed, a blow to the status quo that had been a long time coming. “All my life, I've hated it here. Why should I stay?” He hadn't planned any of this, but it felt like the right this to say, like the answer to the question Kittie had posed.

“What about us?” Veronica demanded. “What about Michael and your nieces? You aunt? You have responsibilities here.”

“Do I?” Tony asked. "Or is that a lie I've been telling myself since I was a kid?” And God, that felt good to admit, like finally scratching an itch he’d been unable to reach, or taking that first sip of cold water after working outside on a hot day.

Relieving.

Refreshing.

Rejuvenating.

Like he was going to live.

Veronica apparently didn’t have an answer for that.

So, Tony kept going. “Did you know I wanted to be an artist,” he said. “I mean, sure technically I am a tattoo artist. But most of the time I’m giving some teenager their first cheap tattoo. Something they’ll regret down the line. There’s not a lot of creativity there. Sure, I have clients who trust me to do my thing. But this isn’t what I wanted. I want to be a fine artist. I wanted to go to Europe and study oil painting and really immerse myself in the culture. But then I convinced I’d probably fail. That no one would want anything I made. I convinced myself that you needed me more than I needed to see the world.”

“We do need you,” said Veronica.

Tony shook his head. “But you don't. You just didn't want to be left dealing with my dad all by yourself. And I let you convince me to stay. Sure, I like my job. It pays the bills, and I get to work with my best friend, but I haven’t really been living my life, Ronnie, and neither have you.”

“What would I even do if I left?” Veronica asked. "Where would I go and what about your dad? Who would take care of him?"

“Last I checked dad was a grown ass adult,” said Tony. “He can take care of himself. And if he can't, that's on him for never bothering to learn.” And saying that felt like taking his first deep breath in years.

“Your father’s getting older, Tony, drinking more. What if something happens to him and there’s no one there to help?” Veronica asked.

“Then maybe that’s what he deserves!” Tony snapped. “Why should we take care of him when he’s done nothing to take care of us? Huh? I spent six months in Juvie, Ronnie and he never visited me. He wouldn’t even let anyone else come visit me.” He’d talked with Kittie about this stuff before. He’d channelled all the pain and frustration from that time into boxing, but he’d never confronted anyone who could actually have made a difference to him back then. “I needed support, and he made sure that I had no one.” Tony ran a hand through his hair. “I’m almost thirty, Ronnie, and what do I have to show for it? Not a whole damn lot.” He shook his head at the sudden a profound sense of loss that swept over him in that moment. Grief for the life he might have lived, the time he’d lost. “I need to stop holding myself back, stop letting him hold me back. I suggest you do the same.” Though, Tony couldn’t imagine Veronica ever taking the step to leave his father, as much as he hoped she would.

“What if I need you?” Veronica asked in a last-ditch attempt to change his mind. “Or Simone?”

“Then you call me,” said Tony. “Just because I'm leaving doesn't mean I'm leaving you behind."

“Where will you go?” Veronica asked, shoulders slumping. She must have realised that there was no changing Tony’s mind. Not this time.

“LA to start," said Tony though he hadn't put that much thought into it. But really, where else would he go, when that’s where Naomi was? “After that, who knows. I'll probably stick around until after Tommy's wedding though.” Veronica looked so despondent that Tony thought he should maybe throw her a bone. “Look, my lease has another year on it. You or Simone can use the apartment anytime you need to get away. And I’ll keep you posted about where I am. If you need me, call. I’ll come back.” He had to leave that door open. “But I’m done with this place and pretending to be a person I’m not.”

Veronica sighed. “Okay,” she said. “If I can't get you to change your mind, then I guess that's okay.”

“I wasn't asking permission,” said Tony. As much as he’d come to love Veronica over the years since she’d become his stepmother, he'd never really accepted the idea that she had any authority over him. Sure, he’d gotten to a place where he'd agreed to go along with whatever she wanted because it meant his dad wouldn’t punish him, but it wasn’t the same thing as viewing her as an authority figure.

“I know,” Veronica sighed. “I guess I never realised how unhappy we were making you.”

“Me neither,” said Tony. And he hated that the people he loved the most in the world had also been the source of some of his misery, but maybe that spoke more to how much he was willing to sacrifice for them rather than how much of an anchor they’d been, dragging him down.

Veronica pulled him into a hug. “Promise you’ll say goodbye before you leave."

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” said Tony.

And with that, Veronica left.

The next day, Tony emailed his two weeks' notice and started investigating cheap apartments in LA. The results were far from encouraging, but he’d figure something out.

For now, he relished the sense of standing on the edge of a new beginning. For the first time in maybe forever, he felt hopeful.

Make me write please

[goodlucktai]

If you're interested, would you do prompt 104. “I’d hug you right now, but you’re covered in evidence. And I also really don’t want to.” for Nishimura.

I love the group at college living together from your other stories and just the thought of Shibata and Nishimura friendship sounded really awesome for this. Fluff with everyone else

"Shibata has heard of times Satoru had a rough time with his family, saw the after effects the one time after an Aunt visited . But this might actually be worse. Satoru had a bad run in with his family and Shibata is the first to see him when he's sneaking in. "

^^ Unless you think of a different direction for it

PROMPTS LIST

104. “I’d hug you right now, but you’re covered in evidence. And I also really don’t want to.”

(the whole prompt didn't really work, so i just used the first part)

x

"If you committed a felony, I'm removing you from the groupchat," Shibata says by way of greeting.

Nishimura, only halfway through the front door, stares at him.

"Huh?"

"The groupchat," Shibata replies, pushing himself upright from his lazy lean against the wall. "You can't keep a secret to save your life and I'm not going down as an accessory."

Nishimura is squinting at him. "I know all those words, but I have no idea what the hell you're saying."

It's close to three in the afternoon, and the hallway is bright with sunshine pouring in from the kitchen on one side and the sitting room on the other, but Nishimura looks as though he's ready to go to bed and stay there for the next two years.

Shibata usually takes a lot of pleasure in antagonizing Nishimura every chance he gets (it's mutual) but clearly someone else got to him first.

It pisses Shibata off. He's the only one allowed to make his friends miserable.

"Tell me how lunch went," he demands.

Nishimura toes his sneakers off and steps up out of the genkan. He reaches over and snatches a hoodie that is clearly too big to belong to him off one of the hooks on the wall and tugs it on. Shibata scoots aside so he can shuffle past toward the kitchen, and then falls into step just behind him.

"It sucked," Nishimura mutters, dropping his bag in one of the chairs crowded around the table. "Kiyoshi didn't even show up. We waited for him for like twenty minutes. Mom was pissed."

Kiyoshi, who swore up and down that he'd be there. Kiyoshi, who was supposed to be a buffer between Nishimura and his mother, so that the lunch date wasn't entirely miserable.

Oh that bastard. Shibata yanks out his phone and fires off a text to Taki. Her brother works with Kiyoshi, and will be happy to kick his ass if Taki asks him too.

Shibata shoves his phone back into his pocket just as Nishimura turns around.

"Latte?" he offers.

"Duh," Shibata says.

Their entire household is going through a specialty coffee phase. The fancy espresso machine on the counter was a house-warming gift from Natsume's big brother, the famous actor Natori Shuuichi, because Shibata's life is actually ridiculous.

At first Natsume claimed Natori wasn't actually his brother, but no one bought it. Now he just goes along with it instead of wasting his breath.

So they're not related, so what? Shibata isn't related to a single one of these jokers he lives with, and that doesn't make them any less his family. Besides, if Natori promised Natsume he'd show up to protect him from a shitty relative, he'd be there. He'd move heaven and earth to be there.

That stuff matters way more than whatever a family registry might say.

Shibata sits at the table and watches Nishimura steam milk. He's moving mechanically and his eyes look as distant and heavy as Natsume's sometimes do. The familiar motions of a cup of coffee are probably as soothing as the borrowed hoodie he's wearing, sleeves rolled up his wrists because they're too long.

This is his house, where his friends leave comfy sweaters laying around. It's his kitchen, where he knows how to use the tricky coffee machine. No one is going to shout at him here. No one is going to tell him that social work is a waste of his time, that it's not as impressive as his brother's pre-med degree.

Because that would be bullshit.

Shibata sends another text, to Natsume this time-- a visit from Natori will cheer Nishimura up. He already has a reply from Taki, promising vengeance. The groupchat starts lighting up, too. Good, he thinks, overseeing the controlled chaos taking place, forces are mobilized.

"Here," Nishimura says, and Shibata glances up from his phone as a novelty mug shaped like a cat is set in front of him. Its curved tail serves as the handle. Across from him, Nishimura is sipping from the prized Moomin mug that he, Adachi, Shibata, and Taki fight over every morning.

"I'll let you have it this time," Shibata says, pointing at him.

"You'd have to pry it from my cold, dead fingers," Nishimura replies peacefully.

They're capable of getting along. It's their best-kept secret.

"Hey," Shibata says. "Next time your mom calls, let me answer."

That works a bark of laughter out of Nishimura, who has to set his coffee down or else inhale it.

"I don't know who that would be worse for."

"Definitely her," Shibata promises.

Nishimura smiles at him, sideways and slightly soft, the way he smiles at Touko when she comes to visit, or Mana during her weekly video calls, or Natsume when he's being defensive about something stupid. Those very special people he's very gentle around.

Shibata doesn't need gentleness; he doesn't often want it. But it's nice, sometimes, to have it.

"I'd hug you right now, but you're probably covered in evidence--" he starts.

"I didn't kill anyone," Nishimura interjects, rolling his eyes.

"--and I also really don't want to," Shibata finishes plainly.

"Sure, Sumi."

Their friends will come bursting through the door soon, and fill the kitchen with their individual brands of noisy caring. Nishimura won't be so strung-out by then; the combination of sweet coffee and good company will have melted him, until he's back to the goofy, good-natured guy they all actually depend on quite a bit. He'll be happy to see them, and he'll lean into their worry and care, because he may not have had a decent family growing up, but he had Kitamoto, and then he had Natsume and Tanuma and Taki, and now he has Adachi and Shibata, too.

His mom doesn't love him and sometimes his brother doesn't show up, but Nishimura doesn't need them, anyway.

"Okay fine," Shibata says, breaking the silence. "One hug."

Nishimura grins, already halfway out of his chair.

[homoose]

Love Has a Learning Curve: deleted scene 3

Summary: A flipped POV/extended scene from the night reader told Spencer that they’re going to be parents (part x of lhalc)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: pregnancy, implied sex (obviously lol)

Word count: 2k

a/n: pls this is unedited so just ignore any typos

Series Masterlist

———

They said their goodbyes and final congratulations to Luke and Penny, and then they were sitting in silence in Spencer’s Volvo. She could feel Spencer panicking next to her— in the car, up the sidewalk, across from her in their kitchen. After two weeks of her own internal panic, now she was standing in front of him, and she couldn’t meet his worried gaze. 

“Please say something,” he begged. 

“I—” She paused, took a deep breath, and forced herself to look at him. “I’m pregnant.”

She watched as his IQ plummeted. “What?”

“I don’t know how it happened. I mean— I know how it happened, I just. I don’t know how it happened.” She laughed nervously, studying his face for any readable emotion. “I’m sure you can tell me the statistics about the effectiveness of birth control—” He opened his mouth, and she held up her hand, begged with watery eyes, “Please don’t tell me about the effectiveness of birth control right now.” 

“Okay,” he breathed. 

She didn’t think she could handle hearing about it, and besides: “The statistics don’t really matter anyway, because obviously it wasn’t effective, and now I’m pregnant.”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, a little like a fish, before murmuring, “You’re sure?”

“I took seven home tests,” she confirmed, voice wavering. “All positive. And then I went to the doctor on Wednesday. To be sure. And she, um— she’s sure.”

He nodded. “How do you feel?” 

His tone was even, his face neutral, and she couldn’t figure out if that was a good thing or a bad thing. She could feel the tears brimming, threatening to spill over. “I’m sorry.”

He couldn’t seem to stay neutral then, frowning and cocking his head. “Why are you sorry?”

“Because we— we didn’t talk about this.” She gestured wildly with her hands, the emotion finally spilling over and her fears toppling out of her mouth. “I never asked you what you want. And I— I don’t want you to think I’m trying to trap you, or—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” He took a step toward her before he froze, cursed under his breath, and asked, “Can— can you just. Just wait here for one minute. I’ll be right back.”

He practically sprinted out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and out of sight. She sank into one of the kitchen chairs and dropped her head in her hands. Now it was all out in the open, and he was already finding it hard to be in the same room with her. He kept a neutral expression for as long as possible, because he was kind, and empathetic, and he loved her. But that didn’t mean he wanted to do this with her. 

She was so wrapped up in her abject mom-to-be terror that she didn’t hear him practically tumble back down the stairs. She didn’t hear him sprint around the corner and into the kitchen. But she did hear her name, soft and reassuring, and then he was kneeling next to her on the floor. “Hey, hey— look at me. Y/N, look at me.” 

She turned toward him in the chair, and his eyes were soft and reassuring, too. “It’s okay, baby. Are you— are you okay?”

She sucked in a shaky breath. It wasn’t okay, and she wasn’t okay— not until she knew how he was actually feeling. “I— what do you— I need to know what you want.”

“You,” he said plainly. 

Her heart flipped in her chest, but she huffed, swiping at her cheeks. “That’s not what I mean.”

“I know. But it’s the truth.” He shrugged. “I want you. Always. And I want you to be happy and healthy. And I want to support you in… whatever you decide.”

He looked down at his hands, and then he looked back at her. “In regards to ‘trapping me,’ it’s— it’s not a trap if I want to be here.”

He brought his hands up into her lap and opened a small velvet box. She stared stupidly at the ring inside for at least seven seconds, her eyes going wide as they came to meet his own. “What is this?”

“I’ve had this ring for… a long time,” he admitted. “ I bought it the week we came back from North Carolina for Thanksgiving, and I talked to your dad about it when we were there for Christmas.” 

He scooted closer to her on the floor, his own eyes wet. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He’d had this ring for nearly a year? He’d bought it when they had barely been together nine months? He wanted to marry her?

“I kept waiting for the perfect moment, but I— I could never find it.” He drew his brows together and huffed out a laugh. “I understand now that the problem with waiting for the perfect moment was that—” He shook his head in realization, and then met her eyes. “Every moment with you is perfect. Even when it’s not.” He felt a tear spill over and shrugged. “Because I’m with you. And that makes it perfect.”

She brought her hand up to wipe away his tears with gentle fingers, even as her own tears continued. He smiled at her. “I love you. The most. And I wanna be with you: today, tomorrow, next week, next year… forever. In every perfect moment. And that’s not gonna change. Okay?”

Of all the reactions she imagined he’d have to the news of her pregnancy, she had never imagined this. “Okay.”

He hesitated for a split second, and she saw the first and only shimmer of uncertainty. “Do you wanna marry me?”

She laughed, genuine and joyful. “That’s not how you ask.” 

He grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. Will you marry me?”

“Yeah,” she breathed, all the worry she’d been carrying for the last two weeks just… falling away. “Yes. Yes.”

He slipped the ring onto her finger and then surged up off the floor to wrap her in a hug. “Sorry it took me so long.” She breathed him in, relishing the feel of his body against hers. For the first time in two weeks, she allowed herself to melt into him, no longer worried to be found out.

He held her for a second longer before pulling back to hold her hands, running his thumb along the newly placed ring. “Your answer to this question doesn’t change how I feel or what I want. I need you to know that.” When she nodded, he squeezed her hands. “Do you want to have a baby?” 

She hesitated, chewing the inside of her lip. “What do you—”

“No.” He shook his head. “I already told you what I want. I’m asking you. What do you want?”

She rubbed her thumbs absentmindedly over his for fifteen long seconds. The moment of truth, and it came out in a whisper. “I want to have a baby with you.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

Fresh tears gathered behind his eyes, and she felt so silly for ever having doubted what he wanted. “We’re gonna have a baby,” he breathed, disbelief dripping heavy over his words. “You’re gonna be a mom.”

She choked out a wet laugh. “Yeah, that’s usually how it works.”

“You’re gonna be the best mom,” he corrected. 

“You’re gonna be a dad.” She squeezed his hands. “The absolute best dad.”

He scooped her into another hug, the two of them laughing and crying in the soft light of their kitchen at midnight. She was pregnant, they were engaged, it was all out of order, and she wouldn’t change a single thing about it. Like every other moment with him, it was perfect.

“Your mom’s gonna kill me,” he muttered.

She cackled— well, almost perfect. She grimaced playfully. “Mmm, yeah she probably is. If it’s any consolation, she’ll start with me.” She sighed, smiling tiredly at him. “I love you.”

He matched her smile. “I love you the most. Dead or alive.”

She snaked her arm around his waist, pulling him toward the stairs. “You know… I can think of one thing that might just placate Mama Rose…”

They started up the stairs together. “Do tell.” 

Her fingers rubbed along his hip bone. “Do you think Dave would let us use his backyard?”

Spencer pressed a kiss into her hair as they reached the landing and turned for their bedroom, Roald hot on their heels. “I’m sure a bottle of wine and a box of cigars would do the trick.”

“I’m thinking a backyard wedding with your family and mine— here, so that your mom doesn’t have to travel.” She pulled him over the threshold of their bedroom door. “And then we can have a party at the farm for all your new in-laws.”

“New in-laws?” Spencer asked.

“Oh yeah. There’s fifteen aunts and uncles and about fifty cousins that’re dying to meet you.” Spencer’s eyes went wide as saucers, and she laughed, pulling him into her arms. “I’d say there won’t be a quiz, but if any of the uncles find out about the eidetic memory thing, they’re absolutely gonna quiz you.” 

She laced her fingers behind his back, drawing him even closer. “But they already love you,” she assured him. “I get a text at least twice a week about you.”

His eyebrows shot up behind his curls. “You do?”

“Mmhm. Asking how you’re doing, are you teaching a new class, where’s your latest case, et cetera, et cetera. All the aunts are nosy as hell,” she laughed. She tilted her head in consideration, lacing their fingers together and leading him toward their bed. “It’s gonna be impossible to keep this a secret for very long.”

He sat on the side of the bed, pulling her down to straddle his lap. “The twenty week mark is usually the green light to start telling people. How— how far along are we?”

“Dr. Layton said probably... about eight weeks.”

She watched as he did the calculations, the realization settling over his face— the drop of his jaw, the arch of his eyebrow, the pink rising in his cheeks. “Oh. Oh.”

“Mm.” She pressed her lips together to hide her smile. “I think we really, um— manifested that.”

“Wow.” She could practically see the memories flashing in his eyes. He cleared his throat. “Do you think your dad would sell me that truck?” 

“Oh my god.” She brought her hands up to his cheeks, grinning ear to ear. “You’d better come up with a good lie about why you want it.” 

His hands traveled over her hips, squeezing gently on their way to her lower back. “You mean I can’t tell Hank that his daughter had se—”

She clapped a hand over his mouth, gently pushing him to lay back on the bed and hovering over him. “Shhhh— he still thinks his baby is an innocent angel. You don’t wanna ruin that for him, do you?”

He laughed underneath her palm and pulled her flush against him. She removed her hand, and he sighed. “I suppose your secret's safe with me. Mostly because I don’t want to incur his wrath.”

“Mm,” she nodded, bringing their mouths together. “Smart man.”

He kissed her, saccharine and slow. She was just starting to relax into it when he suddenly flipped them, knocking a huffed laugh out of her. He peppered light kisses over her face, down her neck, over her racing heart, her sternum. When he reached her tummy, he paused, staring at the barely there bump covered in flowy fabric. And then he pressed his lips gently to it, over and over and over again. 

She tangled her fingers in his hair, waiting for him to get his fill. After fifteen kisses, she laughed as she realized he probably never would. He raised his head at the sound, gently resting his chin on her belly, careful not to press too hard. His sweet smile had her tugging him up toward her.

“I can’t believe I was ever worried about how you’d feel,” she whispered.

“I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out,” he countered. “I should have known when you said no to sushi.” He grinned, but then it softened into something more empathetic. “Is that why I couldn’t hug you for the last two weeks?”

She nodded, feeling absolutely ridiculous. He sat up and pulled her with him, his chin hooked over her shoulder and all his long limbs folded awkwardly around her. “Well. I guess I just have to make up for lost time.”

[browniefox]

The One with the Motorcycle

@wrightfamilyweek day 4 - Free day! Which I took to mean 'shove my headcanon here'. At first I wanted to do something with Ryuunosuke, but I still haven't finished tgaa so uhhhh sorry my boy. Also, you can find this on AO3 here.

In which Trucy and Phoenix decide they need to find a more reliable method of getting around. Luckily, Phoenix already has a vehicle registered under his name.

oOo

“Does this mean that when I turn sixteen, I’ll get a motorcycle license?”

Trucy skips alongside her Daddy as they walk through the aisles of the storage facility. They pass locked garage after garage. Trucy has always known that her Daddy had somewhere he stores a bunch of stuff that doesn’t fit in the office, the stuff he used to keep in his apartment back when he had one, but this is her first time coming along with him.

There’s been a lot leading up to this. Now that Trucy’s getting a little older, there’s more things she wants to do, or go to, and Daddy seems to be getting a little busier too. He’s started going down to the library more often, and having some kind of meetings for lunch, and getting calls by people Trucy doesn’t know. They’re both getting busy, and buses and taxis only get them so far. Daddy had declared, in an almost resigned-sounding voice after they missed a bus and had to wait underneath the bus stop in the pouring rain for another thirty minutes, that perhaps it was time to find a more reliable method to get around.

“Dessie says she’s running a little late, but she’ll be here soon.” Trucy is in charge of the phone while Daddy frets over the pieces of paper in his hands, crinkling the edges up in his nervous hands.

Daddy doesn’t reply to this either, just keeps walking forward. Trucy frowns to herself. Daddy’s been kind of weird about this whole thing. From getting the Learner’s Permit, to the practice drives and lessons with Desiree, to his final test, but now if anything he seems at his most awkward and strange as they approach the storage unit.

They final come to a stop, and Daddy pulls up the metal door.

If old case files in the office were little glimpses into who Daddy was before Trucy knew him, this place was an in-color photograph.

There’s cardboard boxes with ‘sketchbooks’ scrawled on the front. There’s a dead plant in the corner. There’s a stack of picture frames, an old couch shoved into a corner, and a small wood table with rings from the ghosts of old drinks, a few splashes of paint marring the surface. There’s some art supplies shoved off in a corner that Trucy immediately goes over to, and piles of books Trucy hasn’t read before, and Trucy wants nothing more than to stay here all day and look through everything and anything in sight.

In the middle of the storage unit, however, is what they’ve come here for.

It’s a lilac-colored motorcycle. There’s an unhealthy-layer of dust on it - there’s a layer of dust on everything in the room - and Daddy brushes his hand over the seat and handles, sending a plume of the dust into the air. He starts sneezing and coughing over it and Trucy laughs a little at that. She stops in a moment, though, because of the almost-grim look on Daddy’s face as he stares at the bike.

They’ve been building up to this for months, in reality. Trucy realizes this now, that everything up to this point has been to get this motorcycle out of the garage and back onto the streets, because it was a vehicle Daddy already owns, and he wouldn’t have to go through the hassle nor money involved in getting a new one. But it’s also all conflicted with Daddy’s attempts to distance himself from the past.

Daddy wants to move forward in life, she gets that, but it makes Trucy sad anyway to see how nervous and resigned he’d looked about so much as calling the Delites for help. Like doing that much is losing something.

“So this is Aunt Mia’s bike?” Trucy asks, going over to it as well. She doesn’t know anything about things like this, but it looks like it’s in okay condition. It’s certainly not as shiny as Desiree’s, but it’s not bad.

“Yeah, it’s been a while. Sorry I haven’t by.” He says, and she can tell he’s not talking to her. His eyes are fixed on the bike like sometimes he’ll stare at Charley for what seems like hours on end; it’s never for that long, but it feels like it might be at times. He tilts her head to Trucy and explains, “I used to come by and try to keep it clean and stuff, but things have gotten… complicated. I’m sure Mia’s upset I haven’t done more to maintain this since she’s been gone.”

Ah, it’s one of the days where he’s talking about Aunt Mia in the present tense. It’s hard to tell if that’s ever a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe it’s just A Thing he does sometimes. Even after four years, there’s still so much Trucy hasn’t figured out about her daddy. Sometimes, he talks about Aunt Mia as the dead person she is, gone and out of this world, a deceased but loved person, just like Trucy’s mommy was talked about. Other days, though, it’s like he expects Aunt Mia to walk through the door any minute.

“Alright, well, let’s see what we can do before Desiree gets here.”

Daddy’s temporary license, the edges of which are almost torn up by his worrying hands, is set aside on top of the sketchbook box and he grabs a towel from one of the other boxes, setting to work on a more thorough dusting. Trucy searches through Daddy’s phone for the list of what to check for that Desiree had texted him and passes it over to Daddy.

Trucy picks a stool out from the mess of things and rifles through the sketchbook box, finding one and flipping through it. There’s mostly little doodles and the like on the pages, or realistic portraits of faces Trucy doesn’t recognize. She wonders if, were Daddy not so determined to distance himself from the past, she’d know any of them. There is a picture of Miles, and she knows him, so she smiles at that picture and lightly brushes her hand over the pencil markings. Miles looks really angry in the picture, and scribbled right next to him is ‘I’ll save you’.

And Daddy did.

“Alright, let’s see what we have to work with today!”

Desiree announces herself, carrying her own box of tools

“Thought you might not show up for a moment.” Daddy jokes, but it’s one of his hollow-sounding jokes. Desiree laughs anyway.

“Oh please, I’ve been waiting to get a look at this beast for myself ever since you told me about it!” Desiree says and starts going over the bike. She talks about oil and gas and spark plugs and batteries, looking over everything and digging through her stuff and checking things. She says they’re going to need a new battery, and definitely replace just about all of the fluids. Luckily, Desiree is well-capable of doing all of that, she assures them, and they’d be able to get it up and moving enough to get it to her shop where she could do some of the rougher things to do.

“How much do I owe you?” Daddy asks, and Desiree waves her hand.

“We can discuss that later, let’s focus on getting this beauty out of this dusty-old place and back here she belongs, huh?”

Desiree has said that every time, so far, that Daddy asks about price. Trucy can see that it means Desiree doesn’t really want to make Daddy pay for any of it, but it seems to put Daddy more and more on edge every time Desiree says it. He’s waiting for something bad to happen, and his tension over it bleeds into Trucy, even though she’s not worried. Desiree is a nice lady who likes to chat to Trucy and can talk a mile a minute about motorcycles. When she’s not talking about them, she’s talking about her husband, Ron

They walk the bike out of the storage facility, Desiree filling the space with chatter about what the make and model of Aunt Mia’s motorcycle is, and the pluses and minuses of it, and how it’s lucky that it already has a backseat for Trucy. Daddy says that he used to ride with Aunt Mia sometimes, eyes trained on the bike still, as if he expected it to fall apart at a moment’s notice.

Desiree’s red-hot bike is parked out front and she tells them to meet her at her shop. She’ll be able to finish up there, where the rest of her supplies is.

“Don’t worry, she should be able to get you there just fine. And anyway, you can tell me if anything starts sounding worrying!” Desiree says as she climbs onto her bike. It’s been what Daddy has been practicing on, what Daddy even passed his driving test on just yesterday, and the rumble of it had just started to become familiar. Trucy feels like she’s going to miss it, but she’s excited to see how Aunt Mia’s bike works out.

Desiree peels out and leaves Daddy and Trucy standing on the side of the road, Daddy regarding Aunt Mia’s bike like it’s a python that’s going to bite them.

“... maybe this was a bad idea.” Daddy says five months too late.

“You worry too much! C’mon, Dessie’s waiting for us!” Trucy hops next to him, excited to get on the bike. Daddy sighs, turning his helmet over and over in his hands. Trucy has her own, bought a couple months ago, but she hasn’t been allowed on a bike yet. ‘Not until I get my official license’, Daddy had insisted. Now is the time, though.

“But what if something happens? What if I crash, and you get hurt?” He says. Trucy feels a ripple of shock run through her and she looks at Daddy’s face. His expression is grim and an open wound of his emotion. Of worry and fear, “What if I crash and I ruin her bike? What if-”

“Daddy, you’re being dumb” Trucy informs him. Daddy looks at her, and she can already see him starting to close off again, but she steals the last few moments of honesty she can, desperately, “Daddy you can do this, okay? We’re going to be okay. Even if we have to go five miles an hour to get there.”

“I think I’m actually worse at driving slow.” Daddy grumbles. Trucy grabs his hands.

“Then we’ll go really fast. We aren’t giving up on this just because you’re scared.”

Daddy sighs and then ruffles her hair.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. It’d be stupid to give up right now. It doesn’t matter how long it’s going to take.”

They put their helmets on and climb onto the bike. They both hold their breaths when the engine first starts, and then it roars to life. It’s different than Desiree’s although exactly how, Trucy isn’t sure. She wraps her arms around her daddy’s stomach as they get going, keeping her eyes open. She isn’t scared, she can’t be. She needs to seem sure and trusting over this, for his sake, for their sake, so that they can make it through here together.

Things don’t change a lot with Daddy. They’ve lived in the same place for all this time, and Daddy’s worked at the same bar, and Trucy’s worked at the same bar, and they have the same routines day to week to month to year. This is new, this is change, but it’s a good thing.

They roar down the streets for the first time, Daddy is shaking, Trucy can feel it with how tightly she’s holding onto him. The air roars past them, chillingly-cold.

He did this for me, Trucy thinks, and then, no, he did this for us. For family, so that we can keep moving forwards .

If they had stood still, they would’ve been alright with buses and taxis and rides from friends. But they are moving forward in life, they need the ability to do more, be more independent, further their own things.

And help, here they had help, from Desiree, and from the thoughtfulness of Aunt Mia to leave Phoenix to her bike, and Ron had told Trucy before that Phoenix had helped them (Trucy had already known this, she’s read that case and every other case what feels like a thousand times over, her illicit self-read bedtime stories) and that they’d been wanting to do something for the man ever since they heard about The Disbarment.

It’s sort of funny, how independence and getting help seemed to go hand-in-hand.

Trucy and her Daddy roar down the streets, and her grip loosens as she gets more comfortable, and Daddy stops shaking so badly as he gets into his groove, because he’s done this before and has been training and practicing, and he knows how to ride a bike now, and Desiree has taught him how to maintain it, and now, now they are going towards a new normal, a new schedule, a second half of the darkest time of their lives (of course, Trucy doesn’t know this, and neither does her daddy, and now it seems like the shadows is simply where they will always be living) and they prepare to meet it together.

[multi-fandom-freak0221]

The Shell of a Girl that I Used to Know Well

Inspired by "Love of three" by @misashabunbun

Thank you @thestressmademedoit and @maleive07 for helping me find the fic.

So this turned out to be longer than I thought it would be (probably because I based it around like 5 songs) so I'll break it into parts and post each part separately. Oh and did I mention this is songfic? Because it's a songfic! No Felix yet, but you guys do see Peter but I surprise surprise I turned this into an OT4 pairing. Anyone wanna guess who the other lucky person is to date Mari, Peter and Felix? Also bonus points for anyone who can figure out Mari's stage name.

The song in this part in Stitches by Shawn Mendes and The Lonely by Christina Perri is where I got this parts title from. Also the song mentioned at the end is Partners in Crime by Set It Off ft Ashley Costello.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was grateful for the quiet she found in what she was pretty sure was some kind of presentation room. There was a raised platform which she believes is supposed to be some kind of stage and a couple of tables with chairs surrounding them. She still has no idea how she got here, she was just trying to find some peace. She knew her pseudo Uncle and her friends meant well but they were suffocating her. It's been over a week since she left that bastard, not likely that he even noticed. Since Marinette has gotten to Stark Towers everyone has been treating her like she's about to break and she can't stand it. Yes she's hurt, but like give her a chance to fall apart before trying to shove her back together again! Marinette took a deep breath to calm herself as she sat on the little stage to work on the embroidery she was putting on the back of the blouse. She already had a full heart there but it was kind of plain. She wanted to add something but she didn't know what. 

She sighed softly. At times she really missed Tikki being around to be her second opinion. 

Ever since the defeat of Hawkmoth the kwamis asked to be renounced and to have their respective jewelry return the Miraculous box. They were working together to heal poor Nooroo and Dusuu. Even though Marinette had been able to fully fix the peacock Miraculous, as well as heal Emilie Agreste and Nathalie Sancour from the effects of using a broken Miraculous, the two kwamis had to deal with a significant amount of emotional trauma from the whole affair. 

Even though the final battle had been won quietly without casualties it had taken a lot out of everyone who had been a part of it. Adrien's relationship with his father has been very strained to say the least. Even though Gabriel is doing his best to right his wrongs, it goes to say that the only reason Adrien even speaks to his father at all is because of his mother who is desperately trying to make up for years lost between the two of them.

While Marinette was trying to think of an idea for her embroidery she started humming a song she had heard recently on the radio. In her eyes it fit her past relationship with Damian Wayne perfectly. Soon enough she was singing softly.

I thought that I've been hurt before

But no one has ever left me quite this sore.

Even on their worst days Lila's lies, Alya's beratings, hell even Mlle. Bustier's looks of disappointment never hurt half as much as Damian's total disinterest did. She had cooked him a nice romantic dinner yet he barely acknowledged her. More interested in whatever, or should she say whoever, was on his phone. After 5 mins of trying to carry the conversation alone Marinette sighed and just decided to eat the meal she worked so hard on. After 10 mins of stiff silence in their shared apartment, only filled with the sounds of Marinette eating and Damian texting, the latter got up. Grabbing his coat he made his way to the door, barely turning his head towards his fiancee to call out "I've got to go. Something came up at work."

Marinette wasn't even shocked anymore, just resigned. Still she tried to reason with the man she no longer recognized. Sometimes she wonders if she ever truly knew him at all. "You just got here. Isn't there someone else who can handle it? You haven't even touched your dinner."

True to her words, the young heir's meal sat completely untouched, quickly cooling in the AC.

"Mari, you know these things are important. Not just anyone can handle them." Damian's words were patronizing at best. It frustrated the young designer, but she didn't let it show.

"Will you be back tonight?" She knew the answer but she asked anyway.

Damian hummed noncommittally as he walked through the door still looking at his phone and not the beautiful young lady in front of him. "Most likely not. Don't wait up for me." He quickly walked out, closing the door behind him. Marinette quickly placed her ear to the door as he walked away from the humble abode. She could hear him on the phone.

"Yeah. I'm on my way, gorgeous. I just left." Silence. "No, she doesn't suspect a thing." Nothing but his footsteps as he continues to leave unknowing of her distress behind the apartment "Perfect. The less you're wearing, the better."

Marinette crumbled to the floor after she could no longer hear him. She had suspected as much but that didn't make hearing it less painful. 

Your words cut deeper than a knife

Now I need someone to breathe me back to life

She remembers the first time he truly yelled at her. The way he looked at her with disgust. The way she flinched away from his imposing figure and his cutting words. If tried hard enough she could delude herself that he was doing this out of her best interest. The illusion made even easier to believe by the way he apologized and hugged her after he stopped yelling. The way he told her he was worried about her going out and being made a target to Rogues because of her connection to him. The way he feared that he disguises wouldn't be enough even though he himself didn't recognize her at first when she walked back through the apartment door the day. She believed she was safer staying in the apartment because he said so and he only wants what's best for her. So eventually the walls of their apartment was all she saw 24/7. For her safety of course. 

Got feeling that I'm going under

But I know I will make it out alive

If quit calling you my lover

And move on

Marinette's head was spinning. Or was it the room? Was she even breathing? She couldn't focus on any of that. All she could focus on was the picture sitting on the screen on her phone. The phone Damian had bought her. The idea made her feel sick now because all those gifts he was giving her now seemed to have double meanings. Especially when the picture filling her screen was of a naked Lila whose body was hidden behind a sheet lying on Damian's bare chest while he slept. She didn't even think to process how the lying bitch managed to get her number. Instead all she could focus on was tears streaming down her face as she felt her heart shatter. She didn't even process the fact that she left the phone right there with the picture still on the screen and started packing her stuff. She grabbed everything that was hers that she bought herself, later on she'd be surprised at how little that was. She stuffed her things in a small suitcase, put the miracle box in a duffle bag wrapped in her leftover fabric from commissions, grabbed her purse with her wallet and left. After locking the apartment door she slid the key underneath the door so he could have it back. He could have everything back he ever gave her. She was done. She was so distressed she didn't even notice that she had put on the one disguise she had and taken a train to New York until she was standing in the lobby of Stark Tower with her Uncle Tony and her Aunt Pepper holding her while she sobbed.

You watch me bleed until I can't breathe

I'm shaking, falling onto my knees

And now that I'm without your kisses

I'll be needing stitches

Tripping over myself

Aching, begging you to come help

And now that I'm without your kisses 

I'll be needing stitches

Marinette was so engrossed in the lyrics, in her feelings, that she didn't notice the tears falling from her eyes, nor the way she was furiously embroidering the shirt in her hands. And she definitely didn't notice that she had gained an audience.

Just like a moth drawn to a flame

Yeah you lured me in and I couldn't sense the pain

The first time she met Damian it had been an accident. She knew when her classes started she wouldn't have the time to get the fabrics she needed for her last commissions that she agreed to before going on hiatus. She knew juggling her business and school would be hard so told her clients she'd be on break for the unforeseeable future. She was so focused on her phone trying to make sure her list was complete, that she didn't notice the man right in front of her.

"Oh!" She fell back with a little yelp and when she saw what, or who, she ran into she hurried to help them up as well. "I'm so sorry monsieur. Are you okay?"

The man yanked his hand away from her and growled, "You wouldn't be having to ask if you weren't caught up in whatever idiotic nonsense is on your phone."

Marinette fumed silently. "Well excuse me sir, I don't know who you think you are, but that is uncalled for. I apologized and helped you up. All you had to do was walk away. No need to be so rude."

Damian raised an eyebrow at her curiously. "You don't know who I am?"

Marinette crossed her arms still annoyed. "Am I supposed to? You could be the president for all I cared and I still would say you were being rude and disrespectful."

Damian's expression changed slightly to a bit of amused intrigue. "I apologize. I thought you were another fangirl with some kind of ruse to get my attention. If you don't mind me asking, what is a girl like you doing in a city like Gotham? I can tell from your accent you are not from here."

Marinette relaxed a little bit. "I'm here going to college when the semester starts, but right now I was out doing some shopping."

"Perhaps I could join you as a way to apologize for my rude behavior. I could give you a mini tour along the way." Damian smiled softly at her.

"I don't know," apprehension was clear on Marinette's face. "I don't even know you let alone your name."

Damian chuckled lightly. "I assure you, even if you don't know me, the rest of the city does. I won't be able to get away with doing anything to you without being plastered across every newspaper and magazine in town, Angel. But my name is Damian by the way. Damian Wayne." He grabbed her hand and kissed it softly after his introduction.

"A-angel?" Marinette stuttered as she blushed.

"Well, I still don't know your name."

Marinette smiled before introducing herself. "My name is Marinette. Your company would be much appreciated, Damian"

Your bitter heart cold to the touch

Now I'm going to reap what I sow

I'm left seeing red on my own

Sometimes on nights like these Marinette wondered what she did wrong. Because it had to be her of course. Why else would Damian go from her caring, charming, wonderful, Dove to Gotham's very own cold, unfeeling, ruthless, Ice Prince. 

"Hi, Damian. You're home early." Marinette tried not to let the hope seep into her voice. She had a feeling she wasn't successful.

Damian barely grunted at her as he continued to their room. "My idiots brothers dragged me into spending some time with them so I'm forced to change into something less formal."

"Oh okay." She knew she did an even worse job of hiding her disappointment. "You know I finished Uncle Jagged's outfit the other day. He loved it."

Damian hummed noncommittally. She knew he wasn't paying attention, he never was but she kept trying.

"You know how he's doing that "World's Greatest" Tour. Celebrating the hero's of the world in their respective cities. Luka's been opening for him. His career has really taken off. Hell I'm sure half the tickets Uncle Jagged sells are people just trying to see Luka. He'll have to tour solo soon."

"I bet." Damian's voice was muffled from being the closet, but she could still hear the disinterest in his voice.

She sighed as she leaned against the doorframe of "their" room. It was only theirs in name the fact that his clothes were there. She spent almost every night there alone. She took a deep breath trying to gather her courage for what she was going to ask. "Well they wanted to thank me for the outfits. Claimed the tour would have been half as successful without them. They invited me to take me out to dinner tonight to catch up, then for me to hang out backstage during their show. They said they missed me." Marinette hoped he still wasn't paying attention, but as soon as he settled his famous glare on her, she knew she wasn't that lucky. She flinched into herself under his gaze.

"Marinette. You know what would happen if you left this apartment. The famous Wayne Heir's sweet vulnerable fiance. The one never seen in the media anymore. You would get off this block before your picture would be on every media outlet in the city. Then you would be the Rogues target for the night. They would go anywhere you would be. Including the concert. Would you really be so selfish to endanger hundreds, possibly thousands of innocent concert goers just to 'hang out' with people you can see any time you please?" The disappointment on his face and the coldness of his delivery had her feeling ashamed. She hung her head low trying to hold back the tears. 

"I'm sorry." She knew her voice was barely above whisper, but if she tried to speak any louder she knew she'd open the flood gatesp.

Damian brushed past her. "You should be. I'll be heading to the concert with my brothers. I'll inform Jagged of your apologies for not coming."

"Just telling him I'm sick." She offered weakly still not looking up from the floor.

She could feel his judgeful look on her. "Of course not. He'll insist on coming to check on you then he'll see your lying. I'll tell him you're busy with commissions." He left her standing there as headed to leave again. She heard his phone ring and he answered it harshly. "I'm coming down, Todd!" "Of course not, you imbecile! She's a serious designer who can't be bothered out of her schedule to spend time with my idiotic brothers, especially when she's up to her nose in commissions!" She heard the door shut after that statement. I guess her soon to be brothers in law didn't know the real reason behind her lock down either. She stood there for a few more moments before she broke down into loud heavy sobs. She collapsed to her knees and just cried. Not for the first nor last time in that prison she called an apartment.

Got feeling that I'm going under

But I know I will make it out alive

If quit calling you my lover

And move on

You watch me bleed until I can't breathe

I'm shaking, falling onto my knees

And now that I'm without your kisses

I'll be needing stitches

Tripping over myself

Aching, begging you to come help

And now that I'm without your kisses 

I'll be needing stitches

Needle and the thread 

Gotta get you out my head

Her hands were moving furiously as she was trying to rid her mind of her cruel ex.

Needle and the thread

Gonna wind up dead

She wanted to forget everything about him.

Needle and the thread 

Gotta get you out my head

His smile, his laugh, the loving look in his eyes.

Needle and the thread

Gonna wind up dead

His kisses, his hugs, the way he held her like he was afraid of losing her

Needle and the thread 

Gotta get you out my head

His scowl, his glare, his need to hide her from the world

Needle and the thread

Gonna wind up dead

His distance, his apathy, the way he was happy in any other girl's arms but her's

Needle and the thread 

Gotta get you out my head

Get you out of my head.

She wanted to forget loving him and hating him. She wanted her happiness back

You watch me bleed until I can't breathe

Shaking, falling onto my knees

And now that I'm without your kisses

I'll be needing stitches

Tripping over myself

Aching, begging you to come help

And now that I'm without your kisses 

I'll be needing stitches

And now that I'm without you kisses

I'll be needing stitches

I'll be needing stitches.

As she finished singing she awoke from her haze. She felt the tears on her face and wiped them away before looking to see what she had made. The simple heart from before now had a jagged line down the middle that stopped a quarter of the way to the bottom to represent a break. From the bottom it looked like the heart was dripping. The most noticeable change was the crude yet tasteful stitches that laid over the break in the heart. They weren't neat as if she were suggesting they were professionally done. The way she laid them subconsciously represented as if they were self done by someone trying their best.

While she was studying her impromptu embroidery a voice surprised her. "It looks nice."

She looked up in shock to see a brown haired boy around her age, 21 maybe 22, sitting at the table closest to the stage she was on. He looked as if he had been there for a while.

"Sorry I didn't mean to scare you. I heard you singing so I came to see who it was because you have a beautiful voice, but then I saw you crying and I wanted to make sure you were okay, but you seem really focused and I didn't want to interrupt, but I didn't want to just leave you either, but- I'm sorry I'm rambling. My name is Peter. Are you okay?" The boy, Peter, asked her softly, looking concerned. For Marinette it was enough.

She had sat in the chair next to him and finally let out everything she was holding in. The tears were flowing freely now "I don't know. I'm so mad, so hurt, so confused. Where did it go wrong? One minute I'm getting my business degree at Gotham University, the next I'm in a relationship with Damian Wayne. It was amazing he was so kind and sweet and loving and he made me so happy. Then next thing I know after dating for about a year and half he proposes. I'm on cloud 9 and I say yes and I'm so excited for what's to come, but suddenly everything changes. Next thing I know he's saying I can't leave the apartment because he wants me to be safe from the Rogues and I accepted it. Then he's yelling at me for trying to sneak out and I'm thinking I deserve it. I should have just stayed home and he's already apologizing for yelling. Then suddenly he's gone more and more. He's never home and I'm alone and it hurts. Then suddenly I'm selfish for asking to go out to see my friends because how can I put everyone at risk just to go see some friends who I can see anytime I want. Yet nobody is ever allowed over. But I still believe he's right. How can I be So now I'm alone and miserable and it hurts because he keeps getting further and further from me and I'm starting to suspect what's going on but I'm too scared to ask him because if he confirms it, then everything I believed in is a lie and I couldn't live with that. But I didn't even have to ask because soon someone is sending me a picture and it's the girl who made my school life hell by taking everyone I thought was my friend away from me with a few far fetched lies, and here she is laying naked on my fiance's naked chest as he sleeps. And I know he knows who she is and what she did to me because I told him. Yet he doesn't care because here he is fucking her while I'm at home all the time because he told me to be. So I grabbed my stuff and left everything he ever got me and just left. So here I am miserable staying with my Uncle Tony trying not to think about the asshole while my friends try to help me feel better yet I feel terrible because I loved the jerk and I still kinda do and I still have the engagement ring which I should pawn, but it was Bruce's mom's ring and that would be wrong and Bruce would be devastated. Why do I care so much about him and his family when he couldn't be bothered with me?" She felt better after finally letting it all out. She hadn't cried since she came to Uncle Tony. Not when Adrien arrived with Kagami, Marc, and Nathaniel, not when Luka arrived with Uncle Jagged and not even when Chole and Alix arrived. All her friends and pseudo family were there yet she hadn't cried once, nor had she actually told them the full story. But here this stranger asked if she was okay and she let it flow like Niagara Falls.

If Peter was shocked by her rant he didn't let it show. Instead he placed a hand on her before speaking softly "Because you are an amazing person who is a million times better than him. He is insane to choose anyone over you especially someone so foul as a desperate liar. I just met you, but I can already tell that you are a kind hearted, talented girl and anyone would be lucky to have you in their lives and I can tell by the crowd over there by the door that you have many people standing with you who already figured that out." Marinette looked up at his words to see her friends and pseudo uncles and their respective wives standing in the door. 

"Hi guys." As soon as Marinette finished speaking they all rushed towards her. Adrien reached her first pulling her into a tight hug.

"Oh bugaboo, I'm so sorry you had to go through this. Are you okay? Why didn't you tell us, princess?" He buried his face in her neck purring slightly in a way that calmed her.

"I guess I was still processing everything kitty. He really had me thinking he loved me and to find out he didn't was a hard blow." She confessed quietly.

"He'll meet my blade for hurting you, Mari," Kagami seemed to have Chole, Alix and surprisingly, Marc ready to back her. 

"No, Gami, I just want to get over him. He's not worth it." Mari remarked sadly before smiling at her friends. "But thank you, all of you, for having my back."

There were various "Of course" and "Always" that were heard among the group before Tony Stark cleared his throat. "Marinette let me properly introduce Peter Parker, my intern. Peter, this is my niece Marinette Dupain-Cheng also known as MDC owner and head designer of Miracle Designs."

Peter looked star struck. "I love your work. You make the coolest clothes on the planet."

Marinette blushed lightly. "Thank you, Peter. Uncle Tony told me much about you and I was always impressed. You're nothing short of a genius." Marinette missed Peter's blush as she started introducing her friends to him, but Tony didn't.

"This is Adrien Agreste, former model and Physics major. This is Kagami Tsurugi, world champion fencer. This is Luka Couffanie, singer songwriter signed under Jagged Stone. They're dating. This is Nathaniel Kurtzberg and Marc Anciel creators of Miraculous Tales comic. They're engaged. This is Chole Bourgeois, the best lawyer in all of France and probably Europe. And this is Alix Kubdel, X Games Winner, and famous archeologists. These two are also engaged. I'm sure you know Jagged Stone and his manager and also his wife, Penny." 

"You guys are amazing! None of you look much older than me yet you're already so successful! What is in the water in Paris? Some kind of talent steroids?" Peter was amazed.

"Speaking of talent," Luka turned towards Marinette. "Melody why didn't you tell me you could sing like that?" Soon everyone was agreeing that she was an excellent singer.

Marinette was bright red. "It's no big deal guys. I was just singing to myself, I wasn't expecting an audience."

Jagged took his chance to pull his pseudo niece into a hug. "Nettie, my girl you have got to let me sign you. It would be so rocking to have talent like yours produced under my label!"

"No way Uncle Jagged! I'm not even that good!" Marinette began protesting before Luka put a hand on her shoulder.

"How about this? I need some vocals for a song I wrote and no matter how much I love them, my dear boyfriend and girlfriend can not sing." Adrien and Kagami looked at each other before shrugging. No point denying it. "How about you feature in my new single under an alias and if it's hit you'll give an album a try?"

Marinette looked around at some of the most important people in the world to her before sighing and agreeing.

"Alright. But no promises that this will be hit. I'm really not that good. You guys are just biased."

Alix ruffled Marinette's hair. "Whatever you say, DC. Now let's go play some UMS3!"

As everyone was heading out to find a room large enough for all of them Peter prepared to go back to work on a project until Marinette turned back to him with a huge smile and bright eyes. "Come on Peter! Come play with us." 

How could he say no to that? So he came along.

A couple weeks later Luka's single "Partners in Crime" featuring Neon Titanium hit number one on the charts. And the most searched inquiry on Google for 3 days following was "who is Neon Titanium?" Needless to say Marinette was busy for the next couple months. Especially after Luka dropped a music video which she starred in as well wear a full face mask to stay hidden.

[hanniiesuckle17]

Love > Shame

A/n: im hoping i got the request right! Hope you all enjoy! (this is not thoroughly edited srryyyyy) also like frick ^^this video his vlog is the most boyfriend thing ever

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: cussing, partial nudity

Requested by: @ann0325441904​

Tag List: @distrikt9​ @mini-meanhoe​ @poeticallyspaghetti​ @hanstagrams​ @desertofdessert​ @yangomangos​ @hoes4hoseok​

Summary: Sometimes timing isn’t the best. With tensions high at work for Jisung and your time of the month really kicking you in the ass, a fight breaks out between you and your boyfriend leaving you completely alone in a country far away from your old family and friends. Misunderstood problems turn to jealous and catty fights. Is there any way the two of you can come back together?

Genre: romance, angst, fluff

◈

Pain shot through my abdomen. It was like someone was sticking eight thousand needles into my stomach repeatedly for the sole purpose of fucking with me. Fuck womanhood. The pain meds I took earlier were doing nothing to help. This was putting me in a terrible mood. 

The sound of shower running floated from behind the closed door of the adjoining bathroom. My longtime boyfriend, Jisung, lay just beyond it. It was easily one o’clock in the morning, but I always waited up for Jisung to return home from practice. He had also come home in a rather sour mood. 

Deciding that the leggings I was wearing were far too constricting to sleep in with cramps, I got up and waddled my way over to our big closet. Jisung and I both had enough clothes each to fill an entire apartment so when we were apartment hunting, a big closet was a must. 

I threw the pants in the hamper and grabbed one of Jisung’s t-shirts from his side of the closet. The soft black fabric fell around my thighs. Why Jisung bought shirts four times than his actual size was still a mystery to me. The pressure on my stomach lessened but still remained. 

The door opened to reveal a shirtless Jisung emerging from the bathroom. A pair of gray sweatpants hung low on his hips, the fabric making a swishing sound as he walked. It was clear he was still upset. Jisung roughly towel dried his hair, rubbing the cloth over his dark locks. “You still upset, babe?” I asked looking over at him. It took all my willpower not to snap out the words. He shook his head and looked over at me with a pointed glance. “You wanna talk about it?” 

Again, Jisung shook his head. “Ji, it’s not healthy to keep this bottled up. I think you might feel better if you would talk about it.” An aggravated sigh left his lips and he laid back on the bed. 

“Y/n. I’m fine. I don’t want to talk about it.” 

It was hard to watch Jisung so upset. I walked over and laid next to him, trying to ignore the agonizing pain. My fingers traced random patterns against his stomach. The action usually calmed him down. However, he simply turned his head away from me tossing the towel somewhere else in the room. “Jisung, its not good to go to bed angry-”

“Babe, just leave me alone and stop being such a clingy bitch.”

I froze, hand hovering over his stomach. Silence hung heavy in the air. It seemed Jisung had no intention of taking back what he said. He didn’t even seem like he regretted it. “Excuse me?” I said sitting up in disbelief. 

I felt like screaming. Crying. Throwing everything in this room at Jisung’s little pimple head until it popped. “What?” He said rolling his eyes. Wet black hair hung in front of his vision. 

“Did you just....”

“Just get over it. I want to go to bed.”

“Get...over it?” I scoffed getting up from the bed. 

“Yes. You’re overreacting. Just get over it.” I shook my head in disbelief. This was not the Jisung that I knew. This was not the Jisung I was in love with. The boy who ran in the rain with me just to capture the perfect kiss on our first date. The boy who sent me love notes every day for two months until I agreed to go out with him. The one who stayed with me when my aunt died and I was too heartbroken to leave the bedroom since I couldn’t fly home for the funeral. The one who never went to sleep until he told me how much he loved me whether I was awake to hear it or not. 

“Look I get you’ve had a shitty day. But I’m not just someone you can push around Jisung. You know that.”

He sat up, clearly annoyed. “I’m not pushing you around!”

“You called me a bitch!”

“Well, you’re kind of acting like one!”

“Well, you’re kind of acting like an asshole.” Jisung rolled his eyes, pushing himself off the bed. Anger started to bubble up in my chest. “What the fuck, Ji?” 

“Look- I don’t owe you anything okay! All I wanted to do was come home and get to sleep. I don’t want to deal with all your nagging.” 

“Jisung I care about you. I love you! I’m just trying to help.”

Nothing seemed to make it better. Eventually, I stopped trying to be the good guy. I stopped trying to keep my voice quiet. If he was going to yell at me, then I would yell back. He couldn’t just walk all over me. My emotions broke loose along with the rest of hell. 

“I WORK ALL DAY! ALL YOU DO IS SIT ON YOUR ASS AT HOME ON YOUR COMPUTER. I’M TRYING TO PROVIDE FOR THE TWO OF US Y/N!” 

“SIT ON MY ASS? I’M TRYING TO GRADUATE JISUNG!”

“Listen I can’t deal with you anymore.” He said turning his back on me and looking out the window. The muscles in his back were tight and tense. “Just fuck off, Y/n.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. The pain in my stomach was just making me even angrier. “That’s it. Get out.” Jisung turned around in shock. He started stuttering and trying to form a coherent sentence. “You heard what I said. Out.” My finger pointed to the door furthering my stance on the situation.

“Y/n-”

“Get out, Jisung! Go sleep at the dorms.”

He started gathering his things, tugging on a random hoodie and slipping on some socks from the dresser. “This is is exactly what I was talking about.” He mumbled. Jisung stood up, clearly pissed off. He started towards the bedroom door but stopped and turned back until he was standing right in front of me. His wet hair was covered by a beanie, pushing it all in front of his eyes. “You know what, Y/n? Call me when you decide to stop being such a heartless bitch.” 

My hand flew across his cheek before I could even think. What surprised me...what hurt me....was that I didn’t regret it. Jisung stood in front of me, shocked, his eyes looked hurt. His doe eyes which I loved so much always told me what he was thinking. But, as they stared back at me, I didn’t recognize them. 

“I hate you...”

He sighed seeing a tear leak onto my cheek. His long fingers wrapped around my wrist, but I pulled away before he could get to close. His cheek was starting to turn red from when I hit him. “No...you don’t.” I looked away not wanting him to see me cry. Of course, he knew I was lying. There was nothing he didn’t know about me.

“I should....I should hate you...” He made no effort to reach out to me again. In all honesty, I didn’t know if I wanted him to right now. I wanted to push him away, but I also want him to hold me until everything was okay again. “Just go.”

After a moment, he nodded and I followed him to the front door. He picked up his keys and walked out into the hall, leaving me standing in the doorway. He turned back to me, like he was going to say something else, but stopped when he looked into my eyes. 

“Don’t call me,” I said, the last tear falling down my cheek as I shut the door.

◈

Two weeks had passed. It looked like Jisung and I were on a break. Whether it was temporary or for good I didn’t know. My hand brushed over Jisung’s side of the bed. The sheets were cold. They were never cold. Sunlight streamed in through the large glass window in our bedroom. Well...it wasn’t really ‘ours’ anymore. I sat up waiting for arms to pull me back down under the covers. Arms that never reached out. 

Mornings like these were usually spent in Jisung’s arms staring out at the skyline trying to convince him that he did indeed have to go to work. Lazy kisses, sleepy whispers even though no one else was in the room but us. There were no calls. No texts. Not even a fucking post on Instagram. Nothing. 

All my friends were back home. I was alone in Seoul. No one but Jisung. There was a knock at the front door. Dragging myself out of the queen size bed, my feet trudged over the wood floor in the apartment. I looked through the peephole only to find a huge stuffed bear looking back at me. 

“The fuck...” I mumbled. My fingers switched open the locks and opened the door. The teddy bear moved aside to reveal a face that made me burst into tears. “DANNY!” I screamed wrapping my arms around him.  

Daniel had been my friend practically since birth. We grew up next door to each other. Our parents even bathed us together. Daniel hugged me tight spinning me around in the hallway. It felt so good to see him again.

I would not have made it through high school in my home country if Danny hadn’t been with me. I had missed him so much. As most old friends did, we had dated for about six months in senior year but decided we were better off as we were before. Daniel was a sight for sore eyes.

“How are you here?” I asked cupping his face.

He smiled down at me. Even though he hadn’t had a growth spurt since the ninth grade it seemed he had sprouted another five inches. “I’ve been planning to surprise you! With finals coming up I knew you’d be busy, so I came down so we could party beforehand.” He ruffled my hair and moved past me into the apartment. “So, where is he? I want to meet the man officially!” 

Daniel looked around the quiet apartment before turning back to me expectantly. Jisung. He was looking for Jisung. Just the thought of him made me sad. Danny’s smile fell seeing my expression. “Y/n, what’s wrong?” He brought me further into the apartment and closed the door. “Did I say something?” 

I shook my head and ran a hand through my hair. “Do you want some tea?” Looking for anything to distract me I moved to the kitchen and put a kettle on the stove. Before I could turn the switch, a hand came over mine.

“Y/n, did something happen with you and Jisung?” 

He sighed watching me nod. The silence only lasted a moment before Daniel pulled me into another warm hug. The feeling of his arms around me was comforting, but not fulfilling. There was something missing about the way he hugged me. 

My hair. Every time Jisung hugged me, one of his hands would always hold my head to his chest. His fingers would stroke my hair, lingering at the base of my neck. It was a small thing. A very Jisung thing. But, a small thing I missed none the less. I felt empty without his fingers threading through my hair.

“You know what we should do?” I hummed in response as he pulled away, keeping his hands on my shoulders. “Let’s go drinking!” Daniel was always dragging me on wild adventures. He could never sit still. That’s probably why we never worked out. While I loved a good adventure, sometimes I wanted to just sit with a good book, or just lie in bed listening to the rain. 

“Fine. But, you’re paying.” He cheered and rushed off to go change and I found myself doing the same. Hopefully, I could get Jisung off of my mind.

◈

My eyes looked across the room from over the rim of a martini glass. The heels of my shoes lay firmly hooked over the bottom of the bar stool. “What happened anyway?” Daniel said over the thumping music. He sat next to me at the bar of the nightclub we were in, taking a swig from an overpriced bottle of beer. 

A sigh floated past my lips. My fingers traced the base of the elegant glass. “We got into a stupid fight. I regret almost everything. If I wasn’t on my fucking period I probably wouldn’t have acted so rashly. It wasn’t all my fault though. He’s the one who called me a ‘heartless bitch’.” Daniel spit out the beer he was currently drinking. 

“He what?!” 

“He was just angry.”

“That’s no excuse.” 

I sighed, rubbing my temples. “If it helps I did slap him.” Daniel let loose a little smile and took another sip from his drink. “He had a really bad day. He wouldn’t talk to me. I was just trying to help.” I watched Daniel’s brows furrow. The base of his beer bottle was rolling around the bar top as he thought. 

“Do you remember in sophomore year, I had just gotten into a massive fight with my parent about school and I wouldn’t tell you anything about it.”

“Yeah. It pissed me off. You clearly needed to vent. You ended up punching Marty Finch in anger the next day.” 

Daniel laughed before turning towards me again, eyes serious. “Well, I was too ashamed to talk to you about it. Then, I mean. You were always much better than me in school. I didn’t want you to think less of me because I was having so much trouble with something so simple.” I stared into the clear liquid in my glass. “What I’m saying is...he may have felt like you would have seen him as less of a man if he told you how he was feeling at the time.” 

Daniel reached over and took my hand in his, laying it on the bartop. “He still didn’t have to call me a bitch though,” I said with a sad smile on my lips. 

“Yeah, no. That was a fucking asshole move.” My friend glanced down at my now empty drink. “Another gin martini, dry.” He said to the bartender, who removed my empty glass. Daniel scanned my face. It was hard to hide the depressing way I was feeling. “You really miss him don’t you?”

I nodded, looking away from him and out into the club. “I really do. Danny, I miss him so fucking mu-” I froze. I must be imagining things. My eyes must be lying to me because there was no way I was looking at Jisung sitting on the other side of the club. His arm was draped around a girl with dyed hair. Her hand was squeezing his thigh as he whispered something in his ear. His eyes met mine.

There was a flash of something. Sadness? Guilt? Longing? But, it disappeared before I could question it. Daniel followed my gaze, tapping his finger against the back of my hand. “What’s up? Who is that?” Anger started to boil in the pit of my stomach. Maybe not anger. Anger wasn’t a good word. It hurt more than it made me angry. Jealousy. Jealousy is what was eating away at my insides as his hand played with her hair. 

Danny looked over at the man who used to be mine with a curious gaze. “Jisung,” I whispered, turning back and downing the new martini in one gulp. The alcohol burned the back of my throat distracting me from the stabbing pain in my heart. 

Daniel started to get up, fury in his eyes burning like white hot flames. My hand stopped him from doing something he would later probably not regret at all. “Y/n- are you kidding right now? I’m gonna kill him!”

“Danny, stop. Let’s just go.” 

I took his hand in mine and dragged him away from the bar. The air around me felt heavy. Like I was up on a mountain. Pushing away the pain in my chest I dragged my friend away from the club, not feeling the pair of doe eyes on my back. 

◈

The drone of the television played through the apartment. It was raining outside. It had been raining since the night of the club about four days ago. Daniel sat on my couch, my legs across his lap. A half empty bottle of wine sat on the coffee table and a fully drained one lay next to it. Much alcohol had been consumed in the past few days between the two of us. Daniel; to make me feel better. Me; to forget about the hurt I felt in my chest. 

A light buzz was hovering in my brain as I took another sip from my wine glass. “I know that now is probably not the time,” Daniel said, changing topics. “But, I had a question to ask you about Marin.” 

Marin was Daniel’s girlfriend. She was quite possibly the sweetest person I had ever met. Daniel was lucky to have her. “Oh no. What did you do? You didn’t run here to escape from your fuck up did you? Danny, she’ll kill me! I like being alive!” He laughed patting my leg a few times.

“No. Don’t worry. I wanted your advice.” 

“Hit me with it, baby,” I said drinking the rest of my glass dry. 

Daniel set the glass on the table, turning to me. “Is two and a half years too soon?” I pouted my lips and looked out the window. The view was still immaculate without Jisung next to me. It just felt...lonely even with Danny here. 

“Too soon for what?”

He sighed, that familiar cheeky grin popping onto his cheeks. “I want to ask Marin to marry me.” 

“GET OUT OF TOWN!” I screamed. He laughed when I started squealing. My hands slapped at his shoulder. My little Danny was going to get married. 

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I came to Seoul to ask for your advice. And also to ask if you’ll be my ‘best man’ of sorts.” 

“Are you kidding? Of course, I will!” I jumped up from the couch and poured us both more wine. “Have you asked her dad?” He nodded taking a sip of the sweet alcohol. 

“So you think I should do it?”

“Fuck yeah, I think you should do it!” I stared at Daniel with a smile on my face. I could remember when he had gotten his long-legged ass stuck in a baby swing at the park for three hours before we had to find a pair of bolt cutters and run off with the swing. “I cannot believe you are getting married! My little Danny!”  I said leaning over and wrapping my arms around his neck, carefully making sure not to spill my wine. 

The sound of the front door opening had me pulling away from my friend. My eyes widened as Jisung stepped through the door, keys in hand. His stare moved from me to Daniel then zeroed in on my hand still on his neck. 

“Jisung-” I shot up on my feet setting the wine on the table. 

He scoffed closing the door, shoving the keys in his back pocket. “Don’t let me interrupt your date. I just came to get some things.” Jisung’s voice sounded like music to my ears despite its cold tone. He wore a pair of old ripped pair of black jeans I hadn’t seen since we started dating and a baggy white shirt. His usual noir beanie covering his dark hair. 

Daniel awkwardly tapped on his wine glass and watched as Jisung traveled into the bedroom. He looked and me before nudging his head towards the door. I mouthed a few choice words to him which resulted in a silent argument. 

“One of us is going to go in there, and if I do he’s walking out with a black eye and some missing teeth.”

“Oh please. You know he could kick your ass with his hands tied behind his back,” I whispered. 

“Why can’t you date less athletic people? I’d like to be able to defend your honor.” He started pushing me towards the bedroom with his foot. He groaned when I resisted. “Y/n, it’s obvious you're miserable without him and he doesn’t look too happy either.”

Taking a long deep breath, I turned towards the open doorway. My whole body went numb as I took the short steps into the room. Jisung stood at our closet, a bag open on the bed. His head turned hearing the door close behind me. 

“Don’t worry. I’m just getting some clothes. I didn’t think you’d be here.” He tossed a hoodie into the bag, not meeting my eyes. I watched him pack for a moment. He clearly felt uncomfortable under my stare. “I’m going to be out of your hair soon. You don’t have to watch me like a hawk.”

“Don’t leave,” 

His movements stopped, his back away from me towards the closet. An almost perfect replication of the night he left. His fingers twitched as if he was debating putting back the shirt in his hands. 

“I’m a little tipsy, but I’m sober enough to know that if you walk out that door....I’m going to lose you forever.” 

My eyes searched for any sign for me to continue, but his face stayed hidden from me. Jisung dropped his head but stayed silent. I watched his fingers tighten over the fabric in his hand. 

My hand reached out, afraid to touch him, but longing to feel him again. His head turned feeling the brush of my palm on his arm. “Jisung,” He sighed hearing his name. “Please don’t leave.”

Jisung turned around, looking down at me. “I saw you.” He whispered. I saw tears pricking at the edge of his eyes. “I saw you. At the club. You were with the guy in there. I saw you walk in together.” He searched my eyes for something I did not know. 

“So did I; I saw the girl.” He sighed, head falling into his hands. “Did you-...God I can’t even say it.” He winced when I tried to laugh through the awkwardness. “If you did-...we were technically on a break so... I have no right to be mad at you.”

“Even if I did, I would feel terrible if you weren’t.” 

Jisung looked at me with sincerity. “You didn’t sleep with her?” He shook his head, staring down at me. Just one look into his big doe eyes told me he was telling the truth. 

“She kissed me after you left, but I stopped her.” I couldn’t help the smile slipping onto my face. Jisung nodded towards the door before speaking again. “Is that your new boyfriend?” 

“Danny? Hell no. He’s my best friend from back home. He came to visit.” 

“Oh, thank God,” Jisung said in one breath. His hands reached for my cheeks smashing his lips against mine. My fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt tugging him closer to me. Jisung kissed me as if he was afraid I would disappear the moment he let go of me. His lips danced against mine, desperate to be with me again. I pulled away resting my forehead against his.

“Well...I mean technically...we dated in senior year, but that was a long time ago.” 

He nodded, fingers threading through my hair as his lips returned to mine. I was just as hungry for him as he was for me. He smiled feeling me push him backward, without breaking our kiss. He laughed quietly when I moved him into the open closet instead of a wall. Jisung straightened himself up before taking control and pinning me up against the doorframe. 

“Wait,” He said breaking the kiss, smiling as I chased after his lips. “Didn’t you say you lost your virginity your senior year.” He asked looking into my eyes, brows furrowed.

“Umm...shhhh. This is about us, yeah?” 

Before he could say anything else about Daniel, I kissed him again tugging off his beanie and running my fingers through his soft locks. He broke away and nuzzled his face in my neck, arms wrapped tightly around my waist. “I’m so sorry, baby. I was a total ass. I should never have said those things.” 

“No, I’m sorry. I regret everything that happened. My emotions were all wack because of my period.”

“Well...I did deserve that slap.” 

“Maybe a little.”

“Hey!” He laughed, letting me know he wasn’t really offended. My thumb brushed over his cheek as I looked up into his eyes. “Y/n, I’m so sorry. I was too ashamed about what had happened that day to talk about it and I took it out on you. Can you forgive me?”

Leaning up, I kissed him gently savoring every moment. “Jisung, I love you. You never have to be ashamed to tell me anything. I love you unconditionally. Even when you leave coffee mugs all over the house. Even when you forget to pick up groceries when I ask you eight times in an hour.” He laughed resting his forehead against mine. “My love for you is greater than any mistake you could make or problem you have.”

“You are so cheesy.”

“You love it.” 

“I love you,” 

Jisung tilted his head, leaning down for another kiss. This one was slower, more careful. A knock on the door pulled us apart. Danny stood in the entryway, drinking from his wine glass. “So I’m assuming you will need a plus one on the wedding invite?” He said with a smile. 

“Jisung?” He closed his eyes and smiled hearing his name from my lips. “Would you go to a wedding with me?” He nodded, kissing me on the cheek. 

“Would love to, baby.” 

Daniel walked over and reached over to shake Jisung’s hand. “Nice to finally meet you,” He said with his goofy, lopsided grin. Jisung warily looked him up and down but smiled and shook his hand. “You want to be a groomsman?”

“Depends. Did you fuck the love of my life when you were eighteen?”

“JISUNG!”

“WHAT?”

◈

Requests are open my lovelies! Just send an ask!

Masterlist

[anna-justice]

Lost or Found - 24

Summary: As Jay, Hailey, Kim, Adam and Kevin start their junior year in the wake of a tragic summer, the past year of their lives comes back to haunt them. If you enjoyed Pretty Little Liars, this is for you! *UPSTEAD/BURZEK High School AU

...

24 - Evermore  ...

“Your dad should have killed you when he had the chance…”

Hailey whimpered, her eyes clenched shut and beads of sweat appearing on her forehead.

“So you want to play hero one more time?” 

She flinched in her sleep, her heart beating out of her chest, so fast that she thought it was going to explode. 

“That works for me.” 

Hailey shot up, screaming. The last thing she saw was the barrel of a gun. She clawed at her chest, trying to get a good breath. “Hailey?” Someone yelled, and then right after, her Aunt appeared in front of her. “Hailey, it’s okay.” Trudy reached out to grab her hand, but Hailey pulled it back, looking at her with scared eyes. 

It had been a month since she had heard those words muttered aloud, but they plagued her dreams frequently. 

The two weeks following that day, all five of them took turns rotating through the police station. Everyday there were new questions, more people to explain things to, more statements to clarify, it was never ending. Then, it just stopped. There was nothing else they could do, they had to wait for trial. And in the meantime, Erin was placed in a psychiatric hold facility, and her lawyers were defending her actions as a symptom as psychosis.

It bothered them all, that technically she was free, all because they could blame her attempted murder on a psychotic break. Especially when Kelly Severide was looking at time. A few days after, two detectives showed up at Hailey’s house, wanting a full recount of the last five months, and that included the night that she was attacked. When Severide was questioned, he had no alibi and he confessed to strangling Hailey. His excuse was that he was threatened the same way that the rest of them were, only in person. He claimed that he knew Erin was alive the whole time, but she threatened to kill his mom and sister if he didn’t cooperate. 

Unfortunately, the only way to corroborate the story for a jury is to prove Erin mentally competent, meaning she was capable of carrying out her threats. To all involved, even Kelly, it was clear that she knew what she was doing, she was a mastermind, but to everyone on the outside, they were just a bunch of teenagers wrapped up in a murder. 

The girl that everyone thought was Erin still hadn’t been identified, they had to dig up the casket for the second time. The only way they were able to ID it the first time was by the previous fracture and bracelet, but there are a lot of people in the Chicago area that have broken their left wrist. 

So, with no new information and the date for the trial to begin still months away, they all lived life normally. Well, as normal as it could be after everything they went through. And normal for Hailey meant waking up every night screaming. 

Trudy looked at her husband, who was standing in the doorway. They shared a look, a very familiar one. They repeated the same steps every night, like some cruel rehearsed dance. Trudy waited patiently for Hailey to calm down, just seated on the floor next to her. “Hailey, sweetie, you’re safe.” She repeated. 

Every night it was the same, Hailey would snap out of whatever daze she was in and apologize profusely. “I’m sorry, I got scared…” She started.

“Shhh,” Trudy said, placing a hand on her leg, “It’s okay.” 

Hailey nodded, swallowing hard. “I’m good, you all can go back to sleep.” She said, glancing at her uncle. 

Trudy just nodded, she learned many nights ago not to fight her on it, “Alright. Goodnight Hailey, we love you.” She said, squeezing her shoulder. 

“Love you too.” Hailey said, watching them retreat back to their room. They left the door open like they always did, Hailey sighed rolling over and grabbing her phone. She sent a quick text to her boyfriend. 

Hailey:      :(

It was a system that they started a few weeks ago. The first few nights Jay would stay up with her on the phone, or she would call him after Trudy and Randy finally left, but the lack of sleep began to play a part in their relationship. So, they decided that every time Hailey had a nightmare (or Jay, he wasn’t clean of them) they would text the other a frowny face, so that in the morning they would know what the other had gone through the night before without having to talk about it. It has proved to be useful.

Hailey laid down again, willing herself to close her eyes, but she couldn’t. Sleep was too vulnerable, so she laid there awake, just waiting for the sun to rise on (hopefully) a better day. 

…

“What do you mean you haven’t picked out a costume?” Kim asked, as Jay slammed his door shut. Like every morning, they were all crowded around his truck, waiting until the last minute to head to class. The gossip still hadn’t died down, they were still the topic of every conversation, so they avoided it as much as they could. 

Hailey shrugged. “I thought we weren’t dressing up.” She said, looking up at her boyfriend, who nodded in agreement. Halloween was tomorrow, and of course Kim had plans for all of them.

“No, I said we weren’t dressing up as the characters from scooby doo…” Kim said, giving Adam a pointed look. 

Adam held up his hands in surrender, “Like I said, I’m sorry, it’s too soon.” He said, stifling a laugh. 

Kevin rolled his eyes, “Yeah, you all know I’d have to be scooby. And I’m not dressing up like a dog.” He snapped. 

“But Kev,” Adam said, faking a frown. “I thought you were my dawg.” Kevin glared at him, faking a punch as Adam jumped back. 

“Anyway,” Kim started, looking back at Hailey and Jay, and ignoring the antics behind her. “I promised Stella we would all be at her party tomorrow night, you guys will be the only people without a costume.” 

Hailey sighed, “Kim, we will get costumes, I promise.” Kim opened her mouth, but the warning bell cut her off. Hailey smiled, grabbing Jay’s hand. “We’ll see you guys later.” She said, before pulling him away. 

“Please tell me you have costume ideas,” Jay said quietly. 

“Nope.” They rounded the corner, Jay leaning down and stealing a kiss before they entered their classroom. Criminal justice was a little harder to sit through than it was before, but somehow Jay had managed to get his grade up. 

They took their normal seats in the back of the class, waiting for the teacher to begin. “I have an idea,” Jay said, leaning on his hand. 

“Okay?” Hailey said cautiously. 

“I’ll be a firefighter, and you be a Dalmatian.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Hailey scoffed, “No.” 

“Okay. You be the firefighter and I’ll be the Dalmatian.” He said, smirking.

Hailey shook her head, “Try again.” Jay fake pouted, retreating back to his half of the shared desk. 

Finally, their teacher decided to start class, cutting their conversation off for the time being. After about 30 minutes of notes, he passed out an assignment, leaving them to work on their own. Jay turned to face her, smiling. “I’ve got another idea.” He said, Hailey gave him a pointed look. “Squints and the lifeguard from the sandlot.” 

“Why? So every time someone asks us who we are you get to lay on the ground and make me kiss you?” She questioned. 

“Exactly.” He deadpanned. 

“Jay-”

“Okay, okay.” He said, laughing. He loved it when she got all riled up. “Peter Pan and Tinkerbell, cause you’re so short-”

“Jay!” She said, smacking his bicep. 

He laughed harder, “Okay, in all seriousness...we can be Jack and Rose from the titanic…” He watched Hailey’s face slowly morph into slight agreeance, “And Kev could be the iceberg.” 

“I’m done with you.” Hailey said shortly, stifling her own laugh. 

Jay laughed at his own joke, watching his girlfriend pretend to be aggravated with him. “You love me, you know it.” 

“Unfortunately…” Hailey said under her breath. She took a deep breath, “What about Danny and Sandy from Grease?” 

Jay smirked, “You in leather pants? Perfect.” 

“You’re hopeless.” 

…

The next day, Hailey sat in Kim’s bedroom getting ready. They had about an hour before the boys were supposed to come pick them up. Kim and Adam were going as Romeo and Juliet, while Hailey and Jay had finally settled on Rapunzel and Flynn Rider. Kevin had grouped up with some of the boys from his team, they were going as zombie football players, very original…

“Kim, you’re going to have to do this.” Hailey said, laughing in defeat. 

Kim smiled, taking over for her. She was waiting for her to ask for help, she’d been struggling to french braid her hair for almost twenty minutes. “I got it.” They sat there for a while in silence, Kim carefully laying pieces of blonde hair over the others, she glanced at Hailey in the mirror, noticing the blank look on her face. “How are you doing?”

Hailey’s head snapped up to meet her eyes, she caught her off guard. “Uh,” She shrugged, “I’m okay, I guess…” 

Kim scoffed, shaking her head. “I’ve said that word so many times recently that I’m not even sure it’s a word anymore.” 

“Yeah…” Hailey said, letting her thoughts wander. “I get that.” And she did, it was like she used the word as a shield. It was her response to everything, and she wasn’t okay, not that it was really a secret. None of them were okay, but saying it made it feel like they were. And deception was something worth clinging onto. 

“You know, we never talked about-” 

“We don’t need to.” Hailey said, cutting her off. 

Kim eyed her cautiously, “Okay.” She wanted to talk, but she didn’t feel like she had any right to push Hailey to. Not after what happened. “Done.” She said, a few minutes later, taking a step back to admire her work.

“Thanks,” Hailey said with a genuine smile, picking up the jar of flower clips they had bought that morning. “You think I should just put these everywhere?” 

Kim nodded, “Yeah, I think so.” She reached down, clicking shuffle on a playlist, a random Taylor Swift song playing. They were both done talking. 

An hour later, the two of them were sitting in Kim’s kitchen talking to her mom when Jay and Adam arrived. Adam just let himself in the front door, Jay choked on a laugh as he waltzed in like he owned the place. 

The boys appeared in the kitchen, “Honey, I’m home.” He said, passing Kim and hugging her mom. Kim rolled her eyes as they all laughed, Jay’s hand finding Hailey’s back like it always did. He was so happy, even though life was still crazy, he was ridiculously happy. Watching Hailey smile and Adam joke around like he used to (before they used it as a distraction) was so nice, and familiar and just so damn good. 

Hailey peered up at him, grinning as he pecked her lips. “Alright, let’s get a picture so you all can get out of here.” Claire said, ushering them together. Jay stood next to Adam, both of them holding their girlfriends securely against their waists. They all smiled brightly, relaxing after the click. 

They quickly bid their goodbyes, making their way out to Jay’s truck. Hailey slid easily into the passenger seat, despite her nude heels (that she was already regretting), while Adam and Kim got in the back. They pulled out of the driveway, and somehow Adam ended up with aux cord. Somewhere in between an old Maroon 5 song and the Weekend, Jay’s hand found hers on the center console. 

Hailey looked down at it and smiled. It was a simple thing that they did every single time they rode together, but it really symbolized how much things had changed. Hailey thought back to the day that he kept his eyes trained on the road, back when she cut him off when he tried to apologize. It was only two months ago, but they were different, everything was different, everything was better. 

 Jay followed her gaze to their conjoined hands, mimicking her smile. She didn’t have to say anything, he knew exactly what she was thinking. Part of him wishes he could go back and stay with her then, he felt like they had wasted so much time, but the other part of him knew that they were better for it. Neither of them were ready for what they have now, then. And what they have was worth the wait. 

Finally they reached their destination, Jay having the park pretty far away due to how many people were already there. They got out, Jay rounding the truck to help Hailey down, even though she hadn’t needed it in a long time. The four of them headed towards the decent sized house, they could hear the music thumping from outside. Hailey slipped her hand in Jay’s, gripping his forearm. 

Jay noticed the look of discomfort on her face, leaning down. “Hey, you okay?” He asked, eying her. 

Hailey nodded, holding on a little tighter. “Yeah, just don’t want to get lost in the crowd.” Jay nodded, believing her lie. She couldn’t really explain it, but she had a terrible feeling in her stomach and the thought of being lost in a sea of people made her want to throw up. Even though it was over, Hailey still found herself looking over her shoulder and watching out for her. And even though all of that meant she was nowhere near being in a party mood, she wasn’t going to bring everyone else down, they all needed a fun night. 

They made their way through the crowded makeshift dance floor, and found Kevin in a living area near the back of the house where he was sitting with Stella, Conner, Matt and Sylvie. “Hey guys,” He called, jumping up and clapping Adam’s back. 

Stella stood, hugging Kim tightly, “I’m glad you guys could make it.” 

Kim squeezed her, “Me too.”

Stella backed away, touching Hailey’s arm affectionately and giving her a kind smile that she returned. “I know it’s kind of crazy,” Stella laughed, “If you need something or just a break, the keys to the upstairs doors are hidden right under the doors, just inside the rooms.” She glanced at the obvious couples, winking. “I trust you guys.” 

They all nodded, Kim blushing, a chorus of “great” and “thanks” sounding. The group dispersed, the five of them huddling up. “Obviously Hailey and I are gonna stick together, if we get lost, meet back here at midnight and we’ll head out?” Jay suggested.

“Sounds good,” Kev said, nodding.

Adam agreed too. “That works for me.” 

That works for me…

Hailey flinched at those words, instinctively squeezing her eyes shut. Her breath caught in her throat. The image of a pulled gun flashing through her brain. She grimaced, trying to push the thoughts away. “Hailes…” She took another deep breath, doing everything in her power to keep her fear at bay. “Hailes.” Someone said, harsher, snapping her out of her daze. 

“Yeah?” She asked quickly. 

Kim eyed her cautiously, “I asked if you wanted a water…”

“Oh,” Hailey shook her head, “No, I’m good, thanks though.” She watched as Kim and Adam slowly disappeared into the crowd, her eyebrowed cinched together. 

Jay stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the rest of the room, “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked, concern clear in his bright green eyes. 

Hailey nodded vigorously, “I’m good, I promise.” She said, his face didn’t change. He didn’t believe her. Hailey reached up, pulling him to her level and attaching their lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she deepened it, pulling him even closer. Jay did his best not to get lost in the kiss, but with her it was so hard. She pulled away slowly, peering up at him. “Jay, I’m okay.” Kim was right, it didn’t sound like a word anymore. 

Jay sighed, admitting defeat. “Okay.” He laced their hands together, leaning down and kissing her slowly before guiding her to the dance floor. They stood near the edge, Jay’s hand sitting on her hips as they swayed in sync to the fast music. They danced for a while before some of Jay’s teammates interrupted them. 

Hailey stood securely at his side as they spoke, absently listening to the trashy rap music that was playing loudly throughout the room. “Fuck, shit, bitch…” The sound of a gun being cocked rang through the speakers and Hailey screamed. Suddenly the eyes of everyone around her staring at her. She was frozen in place, forcing the terrible memories away, but she couldn’t. 

“Hailey.” Jay said, but her feet had a mind of their own and she was running towards the staircase, her lungs burning, she couldn’t get in a good breath. “Hailey!” Jay called after her, not even bothering to say goodbye to his team before taking off. 

Hailey booked it up the stairs, dropping to the ground in front of the first door she saw, grasping aimlessly for the key. She slumped against the door, tears streaming down her face as she fought to breathe. Jay booked it towards her, crouching down and finding the key easily. He unlocked the door, then swept his hysterical girlfriend off the floor, carrying her into the room and setting her on the bed. She was still heaving in front of him, and Jay placed two hands on either side of her face. “Hailey, Hailey look at me.” He said, but her eyes stayed trained on his chest. “Baby, you’re safe, look at me, please.” She clenched her eyes shut, more tears falling down her face. When she opened them again, they met his and she launched herself into his arms. 

Jay held her to him, rocking them gently as she cried into his neck. “I-I thought-” She stuttered, sobs wracking her body. 

“I know, I know.” He said, trying to calm her. 

“I thought it was over…” She said, and Jay felt his heart clench in his chest. 

He ran his hand through her braided hair, no doubt destroying it. “It is, it’s all over, you’re safe. We’re safe.” For some reason that made her cry harder, maybe because she hadn’t for the past month, she had been bottling up her feelings to protect herself and everyone else. Because even though she was, she hadn’t felt safe in a long time. 

Hailey pulled away after a long time, utterly exhausted. Jay couldn’t take the look of defeat on her safe, she looked so tired, so broken, that it scared him. How could he not have known how much pain she was in? 

She couldn’t bear to look at him, so she kept her gaze fixed on her lap. He placed his hand on her thigh, and Hailey laid one on top of it. She sniffled, using her free hand to wipe the never ending tears from her eyes. “I’m okay.”

…

The following Monday, Hailey sat in the passenger seat of Jay’s truck. After the events of Saturday night, Jay had no choice but to loop in Trudy and Randall, he had to after he had failed to do so before. They spent the rest of the weekend convincing Hailey to see someone, to talk about everything they had been through. 

It was probably the trauma left over from her parents, but the stigma that therapy made you weak was ingrained in Hailey’s mind, and convincing her to make an appointment was no easy task. 

That’s how they ended up sitting in the parking lot of a private practice right after school, Hailey’s leg bouncing nervously up and down. Jay lifted their intertwined hands off the center console, kissing the back of hers. “I’m going to be here waiting, all I ask is that you go in there and try.” He said, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. 

Hailey smiled softly, nodding. She leaned across the console and kissed him slowly, hoping that she was able to portray just how much love she had for him and trust she had in him through it. Jay pulled away, taking her in. “I love you, Hailey Upton.” 

“I love you, Jay Halstead.” She said. 

“Now, go kick some ass.” He said and she laughed, opening the truck door. She shut it, giving him one last look before walking inside the doors. 

She sat down in one of the waiting room chairs after signing in, a few minutes later an older man with big glasses popped his head out of the back. “Hailey?” 

She stood, “Yes sir.”

The man smiled, “Come with me.” He led her back to an office, gesturing for her to sit on the couch while he sat in the chair across from her. “I’m Dr. Charles, but you can call me Daniel or Dan, or really whatever makes you comfortable.” He explained. 

Hailey nodded, shifting nervously. “So, how does this work?” She asked.

“However you want it to, we can talk or not talk about anything you want.” He said, leaning back in his chair. 

“Okay,” Hailey glanced at the ground, “The-There’s a lot…” 

“That’s okay.” 

Hailey grimaced, finally looking at him. “Where do I start?” She asked.

Dr. Charles smiled. “How about the beginning?”

Hailey sighed, taking a few deep breaths, ready to start confronting all the demons that she had been fighting for so long. 

“Tell me everything.”

...

A/N: This is long but please, please, please read it!!

First, this is the end of this story, but it is not THE end! There will be a sequel and if you want to see a sneak peak, you can find it HERE. I am so so excited to continue exploring this version of these characters, and don’t worry, the next installment will be just as exciting as this one! 

Second, thank you so so so so much to everyone who has shown love to and supported this story. It really means the world to me, you have no idea. This has been such an amazing experience and I have learned so much from writing this, so thank you so much for reading. You guys are truly incredible, and writing has helped me through a tough time in my life. I’m going to say thank you a million time, but thank you, thank you, thank you <3

This story evolved so much lol: in the beginning I had no plan, and then it changed like five times, and we ended up here, so here’s a few things that didn’t make it in.

Nadia was supposed to die in chapter 19, but I decided against it…

I debated Kevin and Stella getting together, don’t hate me for this ahaha

I almost made Kim lose her hearing, but I wasn’t sure I could do the storyline justice with everything else going on

I debated killing Adam (I’M SORRY, i’m sorry…)

And finally (cause you don’t need to know all of my secrets) I ALMOST broke up Upstead at the end

Anyway, there’s some behind the scenes action if you’re interested. 

Back to the point: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SUPPORTING ME AND THIS STORY, I LOVE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART, and i cannot wait to embark on this next journey together!!

So much love,

Anna

@lissethsrojas @puckluck28 @fuckyeahkillianemma @chilly7188 @thebigapocalypsewolf @karihighman @ruzek-halstead @anotheronechicagobog @snowwhite013 @tracysupton @angelsjedi @carissalizz​

[enigmawrappedinhypocrisy]

I've recently really gotten into your blog and I love how you write Barley, I'm very interested by the NSFW because I didn't expect this much love for him from the community! I wanted to request something NSFW if it's okay :)! I like the concept between fem reader and Barley ending up doing the deed in his van ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) (Could I add that during this deed, Barley is very passionate and thorough as well as -not safe sex- 👀?) Thank you for your time, I look forward to your stories, take care! ❤️

Hey guess who totally didn’t forget about this sitting in my drafts 75% finished for a looooong time?!! Sorry

Okay… the nsfw things really take longer for me to come up with… it’s like… difficult for me to come up with something that doesn’t sound like bullet points or has bad pacing… 

Aand I could not come up with an opener for this… all I kept thinking of was the premise for the other time there was sexy times in Barley’s van… and I couldn’t do that twice… And i’m not sure what you mean by ‘very passionate’ so hopefully this works…

 Fandom: Onward

Pairing: Barley Lightfoot x Fem reader 

Warnings: NSFW! Badly written Smut, Fingering, unsafe sex, some cum talk I guess... kinda upsetting language in the beginning... 

❀✦ Master List✦❀

The day was warm and bright, your parents were having their annual summer party,

You were grateful Barley was there to help balance you, as the people invited tended to be a little… much...

Everything was okay for a while… you were able to avoid any uncomfortable discussions by spending a good amount of time in the kitchen ‘helping’ until your parents insisted you ‘join the fun’. 

It only took a few minutes before the conversation outside shifted to you...

A great aunt commented that, “you’d be pretty if you dropped the weight…” 

A cousin asked when you’re going to get married, and someone responded with something that sounded like “when she gets ‘in trouble’” 

Your mother’s friend told you she thought you should date her son instead of that “troublemaker you were dating”.

And then politics… 

It was very quickly becoming too much… and you needed out. 

-

Barley had been helping your parents and was mostly kept away from the toxicity, until you texted him. 

<Hiding in Guinevere :( > 

It didn’t take long for the back of the van to open revealing a concerned and slightly amused Barley. 

“What happened?” He climbs in, shutting the door behind him. 

You’re lying on the floor in the center of Guinevere. Barley joins you, on his side, facing you. His hand brushes some hair from your face. 

You huff but give him a quick recap of what happened. 

Barley frowns, “Want me to go talk to them? They shouldn’t be saying things like that...”

“No,” you sigh knowing that won't help…  

But then a thought wormed its way into your head. You try to hide the smile that flashes across your face as you reach up and pull Barley down to you. 

He smiles into the kiss, always happy to kiss you… and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t missed being affectionate with you throughout the day. You had both decided earlier to keep the ‘lovey stuff’ to a minimum around your family in order to avoid… well… basically what ended up happening anyway… 

When he was distracted you shifted your position so you were now on top of him. Barley’s hands instinctively move to your hips, “What are you doing?” he smiles up at you.

You return his smile with a smirk, before rocking your hips against his. 

“You know I’m always up for this but your family…” Barley blushes as you tug off your shirt.

It was if you didn’t care if you got caught… or maybe you wanted to… to show those people… something… your feelings were all jumbled at the moment and you’d decided to just go with them. Barley made you feel safe to share those kinds of feelings with. And you wanted him right now! In his van, on the curb, in front of your house. 

You lean down to nibble on his neck, whispering breathlessly to him that you don’t care, and “let them be miserable while we’re having fun” 

You reach back and quickly remove your bra, tossing it somewhere in the van. 

Barley chuckles, “as long as I get to say ‘told you so’ if we get caught.” 

“Deal” you lean back into a kiss, yelping when Barley retakes control. 

He knows you’re still a little upset by their words, even if you won’t admit it, and Barley was more than happy to take the opportunity to take care of you. 

He spends some time worshiping your body with his hands and mouth, sometimes nuzzling you playfully. He breathes soft words into your rapidly heating skin. Telling you how much he loves you, he wants to let you know how much he adores you, and your body.

Eventually he makes his way down to your waistline. Barley winks up at you playfully before pulling off your pants. He leans down and nips at your hip. 

You giggle and nudge him with your foot. 

He winks again before he works your panties down and off of you. Now you're fully nude in Barley's van… and he's not… You're about to bring it up when he brushes his hand along your slit. 

You glare at him, at his cheeky smile, 'cause he knows just what he’s doing. He knows you want him now, and his teasing is not helping satiate that need.  

The glare works, and Barley quickly continues, moving up your body to kiss you again. His hand continues to teasingly stroke along your folds, now moving with purpose and not just teasing. 

Once he felt you were distracted by the kiss he slips a finger into you, smiling when you moan into his mouth. Before long he adds a second finger,  stretching you, working you the way he knows you like. .

Pulling away slightly, Barley leaves some pecking kisses on your face, "You know I think you're beautiful, right?" He tells you, cheeks flushed. 

You bite your lip looking up at him, a little distracted by his fingers inside you. "You're wonderful," you tell him. 

"No you," Barley smiles, a little heart eyed. Before you could protest or add anything Barley hooks his fingers inside you unexpectedly, drawing out a surprised moan from you. 

He continues his fingering while he leans forward, and begins marking your neck. He wants you to be able to look in the mirror later and know he loves you. You might have said those words didn’t bother you… but Barley wanted to make sure… 

Your hands find their way into his hair, knocking his hat off in your haste, and gripping his hair.  

Brushing his thumb firmly over your clit he quickly brings you to your first orgasm. Your insides twitching around his thick fingers, eyes shut tight. Barley withdraws and allows you as much time as you need to recover. He just enjoys watching you in bliss, a little proud to be the one responsible for it. 

While you’re in your blissful post orgasmic state you find yourself keenly aware of the scents surrounding you. The cinnamon dragon shaped air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror. The obvious musk of sex, and then Barley, above all else you can smell him. 

He’d made sure to dress up a little nicer, shave which made you a little sad, and wore the cologne you’d bought him for his birthday last year. The effort he’d put in to make a good impression filled your heart.  

How’d I get so lucky? you muse to yourself, hooking a leg around Barley's hip, drawing him closer to you. 

With a soft chuckle at your eagerness Barley leans forward, his forehead pressed against yours. “Someone’s eager” he teases, while already undoing his pants. 

“If you don't hurry up” you threaten with a hiss, but are unable to keep the smile from your voice while you do it. 

With your legs already wrapped around his waist Barley doesn’t have much room to move as he frees his cock from its fabric confins. He was plenty eager, himself, at this point, earlier reservations forgotten. Cock, standing tall, practically pulsing with anticipation. Barley didn’t know what he’d do If they were to be interrupted at this point, but as your hips buck against him all thoughts vanish the young elf’s mind.

He slips inside you with ease, your warmth already soaked from the earlier orgasm. Barley teases a little at first, starting with shallow thrusts, leaving you to chase after him. Your hips lift and tilt, trying to find the right angle to get him deeper, all the while Barley makes sure to keep just far enough away. The game doesn’t last long, however, as Barley soon finds the teasing too tough to take himself. 

With a hand on your hip he gives a sudden thrust, pulling you to him at the same time, bottoming out inside you with a whine. His face buried in your neck as he tries to keep his noises to a minimum, grinding against you lazily. 

Barley finds himself wondering how this can always feel like the best time… every time… always… but as you clench around him he’s pulled back into the moment. 

Drawing back Barley crashes his lips against yours in a brief heated kiss, before beginning a bruising pace. 

Your hands grip his arms as your head falls back, overwhelmed in pleasure. You’re rapidly approaching your second orgasm as Barley quickly finds and assaults a spot deep within you. A spot he’d long since learned, will cause you to see stars. 

Barley grips your thigh, and wraps an arm around your back, and with little warning he pulls you up and into his lap. From this angle he’s able to thrust up into you while you writhe, and clench above him. He keeps you against him for a bit, staying deep within your warm walls as he focuses on those places inside you again. 

It doesn’t take much more before you clench down on him, both on his cock and his neck, as your orgasm crashes upon you. 

This time Barley doesn’t allow you to come down from it as he takes your hips in a more solid grip, and begins lifting you again. Dragging your spasming cunt along his cock, he’s barely able to keep a rhythm, overwhelmed by chasing his own pleasure at this point. 

Barley repeatedly lets out your name in breathy whimpers. Not that he was really aware he was doing it. All the while you stroke his back, and moan encouragingly in his ear. 

Biting down on your shoulder, Barley holds you tightly to him as his own orgasm finally hits. His whole body shudders, as he cums deep within you.

It only takes a moment for you and Barley to realize the mistake you’d made. 

“Oops” you look up at him, biting your lip. You can already feel some of his cum leaking out of you around his now softening member. 

Once he realizes, however, Barley’s eyes go wide, he quickly begins to apologize. 

With a sympathetic smile you nuzzle into him, assuring him that it was okay, mistakes happen, and you’ll just need to stop at the drug store after the party. 

“Besides, it’s kinda hot” you tell him with a mischievous smirk, “being around those judgmental people, only you and I knowing why my underwear is all wet” 

It seems Barley didn’t know how to react, his ears flushing, a cum drunk smile stretching across his face. He wasn’t sure if he should be embarrassed or turned on, but a tone coming from your pants pulled him back to reality once again. 

He watches you pull away from him and scramble to get your phone. His nerves return once he sees your face. You looked like you’d been caught sneaking a cookie. 

“What?” 

“We should go to the store now” you bite your lip holding out the phone so Barley could see the text from your mother. 

<Hope you’re using protection LOL>

“Your mom uses ‘lol’? Barley teases. 

You glare at him over your shoulder, already in the process of redressing. 

“Okay, okay” Barley chuckles, readjusting his pants, and starting the van “but don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

Okay that’s all I got…  see you all in another 3 months... Sorry 

[bts-reveries]

daddy duties | 27

“Is it okay if me and Gyu go out?” Jimin says, standing behind you as you brush your teeth. You look at him from the mirror. It was a Saturday morning, his day off of work. 

“I’m not invited??” You say, your toothbrush still in your mouth. Jimin shakes his head.

“I’m afraid Saturdays are for the boys.” 

You laugh as you’re about to rinse your mouth with water. You nod, understanding. You give him a thumbs up.

“Mommy said yes!” Jimin yells behind him, running to his son. You shake your head, spitting into the sink and drying your mouth with a towel. 

“Mommy day off too I guess,” you say to yourself, ready to jump back into bed. 

-

“Where are you two going anyways?” You ask, watching Jimin pack Mingyu’s diaper bag with extra clothes. Jimin had a huge hoodie on, silently walking around the room and stuffing things into the bag. You look over your son who’s laying on his stomach right next to you. 

“Where’s daddy taking you?” You ask him. He looks over at you and smiles, crawling a few inches to get to you. 

“Aigoo~~” You cooed, picking him up and letting him sit on your stomach. “You’re getting so so big,” you pout. Mingyu leans forward, crashing on your chest making you groan. “Umph,” you laugh as his face is right in front of yours and he smiles so big, leaning in to give you a ‘kiss’. You were about to cry right then and there.

“What’s wrong?” Jimin says, standing right next to you out of nowhere. You look up at him through glossy eyes. 

“He just gave me a little kiss,” you say. Jimin’s jaw drops, leaning down to you and Mingyu’s level.

“I want one too!” He says, looking straight into your son’s eyes. Mingyu giggles, slowly leaning into Jimin’s face, when his open lips landed on his nose.

*monch*

“aH! He’s biting me!” Jimin yells, laughing as Mingyu doesn’t let go until he pulls away. “Waahh~ Mommy gets kisses but daddy gets bites. You have like two teeth.” 

“He just loves me more,” you say, closing your eyes and pressing your cheeks against your baby’s.

“Whatever,” Jimin says, reaching out for Mingyu. “But we have to get going buddy. I have plans for today.” You look up at Jimin as you pass your son to him. 

“Like what?” 

“It’s our little secret, can’t tell you.” You frown at your husband, crossing your arms. 

You let out a huff, “you two keep secrets from me now? I thought we were a team..” 

“I’ll tell you when we come back~~” Jimin says, leaning down to give you a kiss. 

“Fine,” you say, kissing him back. You pucker your lips out for Mingyu too and Jimin leans him down for the kiss and he presses his small lips against yours.

“Me too,” Jimin says, when they stood back up. He puckers his plump lips and Mingyu did nothing but poke it with his little finger. Jimin opens his mouth and pretends to bite it, making his son laugh. “Payback from earlier,” he says. He walks over to the edge of the bed to grab Mingyu’s diaper bag, ready to head out.

“I’ll call when we’re heading home,” he says, walking out of your room. You nod, waving bye to both of them.

“Make sure you put a jacket on Gyu before you head out!” You say, watching Jimin give you a thumbs up from behind.

-

Jimin looks at Mingyu from the rearview mirror to the little mirror across Mingyu’s car seat. 

“I didn’t even get to tell you the plan earlier because mommy might hear,” Jimin says as he starts the car. “But the plan for today is to go shopping for presents for mommy. She’s been working really hard to take care of the both of us and I think it’s time we spoil her a little you know?” Mingyu replies with a little baby gibberish. “Yeah, exactly,” Jimin says, as if he and Mingyu were conversating. “Since it’s my day off today, I don’t want to spend the whole day shopping of course, but I was thinking we both surprise mommy with lunch and watch a movie in the living room, what do you think?” Again, Mingyu replies back with a satisfied ‘ooh!’ “Okay good. Well we’re going to stop by the mall, then get some take out. Maybe stop by auntie Sohyun’s bakery and get some of the pastries mommy likes-- oh! We should get her a cake!” Jimin says, holding his hand up. He gestures a lot when he talks. “I’ll call auntie Sohyun when we get to the mall. And then we’ll pick it up afterwards and also get take-out too, how does that sound?” Jimin looks at the rearview mirror when he doesn’t hear Mingyu answer. Mingyu was too busy playing with his little stuffed tiger that Taehyung gave him to reply. “Mingyu-ah, are you listening?” Mingyu replies with a little whine. “Okay, well, we’re almost there.” 

-

With Mingyu already in his stroller Jimin puts the diaper bag in the bottom part, making sure he’s not forgetting anything. “Okay this should be an easy trip if you cooperate with me.” Mingyu stares blankly at his dad. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes, I will be cooperative’ because you didn’t give me a cheeky smile like you used too.” Jimin began pushing the stroller towards the mall’s entrance when he took out his phone to call Sohyun. 

*ring ring* *ring ring*

S: “Hello?” Sohyun answered.

Jimin: “Hey! Is the bakery busy today?”

S: “Not really, it’s pretty calm. Still a bit early, what’s up?”

Jimin: “I’m out with Gyu right now, we’re at the mall having some father-son bonding time. We want to surprise Yn, just because she’s working so hard on dealing with the two of us, I don’t want her hard work to go unnoticed…” 

S: “Aww that’s so sweet! Are you going to buy her presents~~”

Jimin: “Yeaaah~~ We also want to surprise her with lunch so we’re getting take-out after this of her favorite food, and we also plan to stop by your bakery to pick up her favorites.”

S: “Aww yay! I’ll be waiting for you two then~”

Jimin: “That’s not all I called about tho” Jimin laughs, “I had this idea of getting a cake for her, and I happen to know the best cake maker eVER” 

*Sohyun laughs*

“May we please order a small vanilla cake? I’ll text you what I want written on it later~”

S: “Of course you can, I’ll text you when it’s ready”

Jimin: “You’re the best!!! Thanks aunt Sohyunieee”

S: “You’re welcome Jimin,” she laughs. The two said their goodbyes and hung up.

“We can check mommy’s cake off of the list, now let’s go buy her her presents,” Jimin tells Mingyu, pushing the stroller to the nearest jewelry store.

-

“See! The trip was so quick and easy when you’re behaved!” Jimin says, buckling Mingyu back in his carseat. The two went through a few stores, it was pretty quick, they just went in and out, getting whatever they thought you would like. Jimin checked his phone as he was getting into the driver’s seat, seeing if Sohyun has texted about the cake. 

“Oh mommy texted…”

hey babe, i’m going to take a nap lol text/call me when you’re on the way home~ 

don’t stay out too long though, it’s boring without you guys here :(((((

Jimin laughs at your text. “Mommy misses us already. But we still have to stop by for food. She’ll be awake by lunch though, so maybe we can set up the living room for her little surprise… With you waking her up at three this morning, I’m sure she’ll still be asleep when we get in.” Jimin then texts Sohyun that they’re on their way.

“You ready?” Jimin asks, Mingyu babbles back. “Okay, let’s go!” 

-

“Hey guys!” Sohyun says, as soon as the two walked in. This time, Mingyu was in his baby carrier on Jimin’s chest, while Jimin held his diaper bag in one hand. 

“Hi auntie~” Jimin says in a small voice, talking for Mingyu, and waving his little hand. 

“I’m almost done with the cake, you guys mind waiting a bit?” She says, about to walk back to the back room of the shop.

“Oh take your time, we can wait,” Jimin says, walking to a seat by the window. 

“Okay~ See you in a few,” Sohyun says as she disappears to the back. Jimin sit’s down on a chair, opening up Mingyu’s diaper bag. Mingyu looks in the bag as Jimin bends over, pulling out his laptop from inside. 

“Okay, so remember when mommy and I were talking about your first trip out of Korea?” Jimin says. Mingyu’s eyes get big as his dad opens up his laptop, typing on the keyboard. “Well we both had always wanted to travel to Paris in our first year as a married couple, but we had to cancel because something better came along...” Jimin turns his head and looks at the side of his son’s face, giving him a long smooch. 

“Which was you. So now, we’re going to make that your first trip out.. of .. Korea.” He says slowly as he goes to a bookmarked page, purchasing two roundtrip tickets to Paris, France. “Thank goodness we don’t need to buy a ticket for you yet,” he mumbles. 

“Paris??” Sohyun says, seeing Jimin’s laptop screen behind him as she walks over to him and gives him a drink. “You guys are really going?? When?” 

“You scared me,” Jimin laughs. “But I bought tickets for near the end of this month… Don’t text the girls though, it’s a surprise for Yn.” Sohyun scoffs.

“Yeah yeah, I’m not a blabber mouth.. I would never spill a secret!” It was Jimin’s turn to scoff.

“Remember when you told Hobi hyung that you and Yoongi were secretly dating--”

“That was like one time!” Jimin laughs at her reaction. 

“I’m kidding.”

“Whatever Park, your cake is on the counter by the way,” Sohyun says, shaking her head, playfully rolling her eyes.

“Yayyyyyy~~” Jimin says, closing his laptop and putting it back in Mingyu’s bag. Jimin also made sure to get some of the pastries that you liked.

“I’m not giving you a discount because you called me a blabber mouth,” Sohyun jokes as she gets back behind the counter. 

-

After Jimin had picked up some food after their stop at the bakery, they were almost back home. 

“Mommy should be asleep still, I haven’t texted her we’re on the way home, so you better not say a single peep when we get there. Mommy’s one eye will open at the sound of your voice.” Mingyu himself was looking sleepy in his car seat. The two have been going from one place to another, going in and out of the car, and bringing in a lot of things. Mingyu was probably thinking about how Jimin was going to bring in everything he just bought AND himself.

“Okay, we’re here,” Jimin whispers as he parks the car. Mingyu looks around, waiting for his dad to take him. Tired of being out all morning. Jimin then opens the back car doors, strapping on the baby carrier, then taking Mingyu out of the car seat and putting him in. 

“Okay, I think we need two trips, first food, then mommy’s presents. We can’t risk dropping anything when we get in,” Jimin continues to whisper. Mingyu loudly babbles back at him, earning a shh from his dad. “You gotta whisper buddy,” he says, walking to the passenger side to grab the food. “Okay, we got this.”

Jimin unlocks the door and opens it as quietly as he can, checking the hallway to see if he could see you sleeping from there. But your bedroom door was closed. 

“I think she’s still asleep,” he whispers, Mingyu looks at the door, whining, making Jimin flinch. “Okay,” he says, getting an idea, “let me put this down first.” Jimin quickly puts the take-out and the bakery goods on the coffee table before going into your shared room. 

Just as he thought, you were still asleep. But Jimin figured he’d put Mingyu on the bed and your sleepy self would automatically cuddle him and he wouldn’t start crying, waking you up. 

“Here you go,” he said, placing Mingyu next to you. Mingyu automatically smiled, crawling up to your face and laying down. You sensed his movements and opened your eyes slightly. 

“Oh..” You say in a low voice. Putting your arm over him, the both of you falling back to sleep.

“That worked out better than I thought,” Jimin says from the doorway, walking back to his car to get the rest of their bags. 

-

After Jimin has prepared the coffee table, which was laid out with all of your favorite food, and of course the cake in the middle, Jimin went back to your shared room to wake you up.

“Honey,” he says, leaning over your side of the bed as you are turned to the middle, hugging your son. You stirred a little as he leans down to peck your cheek.

“Mmh..” You slowly opened your eyes and looked straight up at him in confusion. Jimin laughs softly, watching you get up on your elbows. 

“I didn’t even notice you two were home,” you say, rubbing your eyes. You look down to your side and watch as your son slowly opens his eyes. 

“He was such a good boy the whole day, we had full on conversations and everything,” Jimin says, his eyes widening. You laugh, running your fingers on your son’s belly.

“Really?” Jimin nods. “Well are you two going to tell me what you did the whole time you were gone?” 

“We can show you,” he says, holding his hand out. You take it and he pulls you up, helping you out of bed. Mingyu then whines a little, trying to get the two of you’s attention so you can bring him along too. “Don’t worry I didn’t forget you,” Jimin says, picking him up. “Let’s go,” he says, taking your hand and dragging you to the living room. You rub your eyes, trying to clear your vision as he sits you on the sofa. The sofa was full of fluffy blankets and soft pillows, you look at it confused as to where it came from. You grab one, hugging it to your chest before looking up at your husband.

“You two went shopping for pillows and blankets?” You ask. Jimin nods.

“But not just that. Look in front of you.” You furrow your brows, doing what he says. A gasp coming out of your mouth. You were fully awake now.

“What is this for!” You say in surprise, seeing all your favorite food. Both your boys came to sit next to you.

“We thought we’d spoil you today since you work so hard for us. We didn’t want your hard work to go unappreciated. And we know a simple thank you already satisfies you but we just wanted to give a little more. So we decided to give you a mommy day and eat your favorite food, watch your favorite movie, and give you some presents~” You pout, leaning into both of them. Your head on Jimin’s chest, while your son was on his lap, so he just looked up at you.

“You guys are too much, I don’t deserve you both,” you say, your eyes tearing up. Jimin laughs, holding your head up and giving you a kiss. 

“You deserve everything, now don’t cry,” he says, giving you another kiss. “We’re going to open one present before we start the movie and start eating.” He gets up to grab a bag from the floor, handing it to you. You take the bag from him, taking out what’s inside. You gasp as you get it all on your lap.

“Matching pajamas?!” You yell out. Jimin just got you three matching pajamas for your little celebration. 

“Yeah!! We have to wear it now,” he says, taking Mingyu’s from you and already starting to change him. You begin to put yours on, and Jimin does the same after Mingyu got his on. 

“This is so cute!” you say. 

“Why did we wait six months to wear matching family pajamas,” Jimin says, looking at the both of you. “This is the best thing ever!” 

-

Mingyu was asleep in your arms, and the both of you had just finished your favorite movie. 

“Ugh, this was fun,” you say, you were currently laying on Jimin who had his arm over you.

“Did you like our surprise?” He asks, looking down at you. You looked back up at him, smiling.

“I loved it.” He leans down to kiss your lips.

“Good, because we have one, well, two final surprises for you,” he says, you furrowed your eyebrows. There’s more???

He moves out from under you and goes to get the final shopping bag. 

“What else did you get me?” You ask your son. You look down at Mingyu, who was in deep sleep, and frown. As if he would’ve answered you if he was awake.

“Close your eyes,” Jimin says, as he walks back to you on the sofa. You did what he said and closed your eyes. Instantly, you felt his arms go over you and behind your neck. 

“Open,” he says. You put a hand up on your chest and feel a necklace on there. You look down and see a dainty necklace with a small emerald stone. 

“Oh my gosh-”

“It’s Gyu’s birthstone,” Jimin says. Once again, you look back at him with tears in your eyes. 

“I love it,” you say quietly. “.. thank you..” 

“Stop crying,” he laughs, wiping away a tear that fell down. You were a very emotional person to say the least.

“I can’t, you two keep making me cry today,” you say. 

“Well I’m sure our last present would make you cry harder,” he tells you, a smile breaking out of his lips. You looked at him in slight fear.

“W-why…”

“Remember our plan, before we got married?” You tilt your head at him. “We started talking about it recently on how we’ll live that dream but with Gyu instead.” Your eyes slowly widened at the realization of what he was trying to say.

“You didn’t…” He takes out his phone, showing you that he bought the plane tickets you two were just planning to get.

“Babe,” you say, laughing in shock. “Are you serious?” Jimin laughs, nodding his head. 

“We leave in a couple weeks,” he says. 

“OH MY GOSH!” You yell, startling Mingyu. He slowly started to cry as you woke him up from his sleep. “Oh-- oh I’m sorry,” you say, carrying him upright and hugging him to your chest. You and Jimin exchange a laugh. 

“Baby we’re going to Paris!” You say, pulling Mingyu away and looking at his face. He frowns at you and you immediately hug him back.

“I don’t think he likes the idea,” you laugh. “But I love it.”

☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎

daddy duties

☔︎part twenty-seven: not invited☔︎

pairings: newdad!jimin x wife!reader

a/n: okay, but jimin and gyu are doing so well by themselves now 🥺👉🏼👈🏼 he’s a pro!!! 

also, went to the dentist this morning and it was really fast and it didn’t even hurt so i was worried for nothing : D

taglist:

@crazyferalvigilantedragonwriter @taekookcaneatme @osnapjenn @rjsmochii @cosmicdaylight @monosomes @the-things-in-the-dark @kimchii7 @softboyfriendtae @smauslut @igotarmyofarohas @heartfeltscribblings @ruinsofangels @sope-and-shine @ephyra1230 @uglyratlmao @samros95 @hellotherehoneybee @moon6rop @kpopliisu @butterflylion @moonlightrose19 @teawithbucky @strwberry-jam @listless-losers @dreamcatcherjiah @httplovemaze @raplineh0e @salty-for-suga @chiminilove @bts-kay @my-chaos-in-stars @kookiemonstersugatea @vantaexx @blueberrykenn @sunnyoongles @knjkitten @itsjynop @seoulicitae @i-swear-im-a-soft-stan @prdshobi @thegirlwhocares @btsxdoll @callmepaopao @sterynlis @cribabieee @incredibleella @nctssidehoe @dammit-jjk @goldenchemistry

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!

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[arctickat2400]

Safe Is Overrated <> Peter Parker

Anonymous Request: Can you please write a Peter Parker x reader tangled au story or the little mermaid au story???

Note: This was an interesting one. I'm not sure how much of an AU it is. I had a bit of a hard time writing it, all these different thoughts and ideas that may or may not have made it in. But, I think it came out fine. Two parts. Please request more; I need ideas; and I hope y'all enjoy!

* * *

“Mom, I’ll be fine. I always am.” I told her when she wouldn’t listen to my pleads. Instead, she ignored my desires and continued making dinner.

“No, Y/N. I told you, it’s not safe out there. I’m not sure why we’re still having this conversation. It’s going nowhere.” Mom said. She seemed so nonchalant about all of this, even as my voice rose.

“But, you never let me see him. And who cares if it isn’t safe out there? You can’t keep me locked up in here,” I gestured to our decent-sized, two-bedroom New York apartment. “I’m gonna have to leave at some point. What’re you gonna do when I go off to college? Are you just not gonna let me go? You keep me here every second of every day. It’s a mystery how I even met Peter,” It’s actually not. He lives in the building across the street and he helped me with my boxes and things when we first moved in several years ago and we have been friends ever since. I have had a crush on him for a while, wondering what could happen between us if my mom would just let me go someplace other than the damn living room and bathroom.

“I need to be able to go out and hang out with people, make friends, get a job, try New York food, smell the New York air, and feel the ocean breeze on my skin,” I argued.

“You can feel and smell all those things from the terrace right outside your bedroom window. You do it every day…”

“That’s beside the point. I need to go out. Walk around, do the things you should be telling me to do but don’t because you won’t let me leave. I need to leave!” I raised my voice and mom finally turned around.

“Y/N, I told you no! You will not be leaving this house and you will no longer bring it up, do you understand?” She took me by surprise. She’s never yelled at me before. I for sure quieted down at this.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” I apologized under my breath as I made my way back to my room. Whiskey lifted his head at the sound of me entering my room. The Australian Shepherd is my best friend, besides Peter of course. My mom bought him for me one day, back before we moved here because she “felt bad” that I couldn’t go out and make any friends, even though it’s her that was keeping me from doing so. Whiskey has always been there for me. He always cheers me up. He would sleep with me at night, watch movies with me, comfort me when I’m sad or stressed, would help me with my homework and online classes. He’s honestly the best friend and dog anyone could ask for.

I opened my window to let some fresh air in, looking across the street and seeing Peter’s lights on in his room. I stepped out onto my terrace, Whiskey jumping off my bed and following, and, where most terraces had stairs going up to the following floors, mine had locked up gates preventing me from going anywhere. But, mom bought me all these nice pillows and blankets that I piled up to make a nice place to chill out and be comfortable. Not that it makes up for locking me up, but it was something.

I lived on the top floor of a 20 story building. You’d think I’d be scared of heights when it came to this and would avoid coming to the terrace. But it gave me peace and sincerity. It keeps me calm being out here. I could see a lot of the city up here. It was best at night. I could see every light in the city. Sometimes I’d stay out in the very later hours of the night just to stare at the lights, imagining what it would be like to see them up close. Whiskey made everything better. Just by being around, he grounds me, keeps me on my feet. He’s always at my side.

It seemed like Peter was quite concentrated. Possibly building something for his job or creating something that he brainstorms in his unusually smart mind. Every few seconds, he would pace past his window, each time with a different part or piece of equipment. I’ve never been to his room. I’ve always wanted to. It seems so homey and comfy. I’ve heard a lot about his Aunt May as well. She seems so sweet, very fun to be around, but I’ve never met her either, unfortunately.

Just then, my phone vibrates against the bricks of the windowsill. Peter was calling.

Peter: Hey, Lone Wolf.

That was Peter’s nickname for me whenever he caught me on the terrace since I seem so lonely and have no one to hang out with.

Y/N: Hey, Peter. Whatcha up to?

Peter: Oh, nothing. You would think it’s boring, anyway.

Y/N: It doesn’t look like nothing with all that pacing back and forth you’re doing, and you know I wouldn’t think it’s boring, but okay, if you don’t want to tell me.

I watched Peter open his own window and climb out onto his terrace. He smiled when we sat down and saw me watching him. Whiskey lifted his head off my leg once he sensed that Peter had come out. Whiskey loves Peter.

He has a doggy door so he’s able to go out when he wants or needs. The doorman downstairs opens the door for him, such a sweet man, the few times I met him. Every time Whiskey went outside, he would run to Peter every time he walked by, either leaving or going home. Peter would welcome him with open arms and Whiskey would be so happy, running around and jumping with joy, a feeling I wish I could experience with Peter.

Peter: Haha, very funny. Anyways, wanna come over? Aunt May is making (your favorite meal), your favorite.

Y/N: Peter, you know I can’t. I haven’t been able to in the past, what makes you think I can now?

Peter: I don’t know. A guy can hope, ya know? He seemed very disappointed. Seems like an ongoing emotion.

Y/N: I get it. You know I do. I’m gonna go shower before dinner. I’ll talk to you later, Peter. Hanging up, the sadness and disappointment worse than before, I climb back through my window, Whiskey following behind, but not without missing the same expression on Peter’s face as was on mine.

Hearing knocking on the bathroom door, “Y/N, dinner’s ready. I’m leaving for my night shift. I’ll see you in the morning.” Mom mentioned as I stood in the shower, the warm water cascading over my face and body, calming music playing in the background as I contemplate my life, or lack thereof.

I don’t answer her. She knows I won’t. She works at a hospital a few blocks away. Every night she works the night shift, sometimes taking some day shifts every now and then. She likes to stay home with me, just in case I need anything, and then she works while I’m asleep.

Staying in the shower a few minutes longer, I step out, wrap myself in a warm towel, wringing my hair out and walk into my room to dress in some comfy clothes. I pick up my phone to see I have a text from mom.

You know I’m just trying to keep you safe right? I love you and I don't want anything to happen to you.

I understand where she’s coming from. I always have. But, it’s just so irrational, her wanting to keep me inside all the time.

I know, mom. I love you, too. Have a nice shift. See you later. I text back. I guide myself to the dining room to grab some dinner, which, coincidentally, was meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Grabbing some grape soda from the fridge, I make my way back to my room to see Whiskey eating his food. Mom probably fed him before she left. Sitting at my desk, I put on a movie to watch, putting my feet up, and enjoying dinner.

That was until something hit my window. I ignored it, thinking it was some kids from the lower floors somehow throwing rocks at the weird girls’ window, and taking another bite of dinner. But, when it happened again, I set my food down, paused my movie, and went to my window, only to see Peter hanging from the rooftop in front of my window.

[prettybuckybaby]

count all the bees in the hive, chase all the clouds from the sky

Fury calls a meeting while Peter is busy

part six of single parent peter parker

masterlist

read on ao3 here

Tony regrets ever meeting Nick Fury when he’s falling asleep on the table in the conference room that has become solely for avenger’s business. It’s 10 AM on a Saturday morning, he’s just got back from his business trip to Tokyo, literally an hour ago, and he wants nothing more than to mess around in his lab until he passes out, collapsing on whatever he’s building. Everyone apart from Steve and Harley are at least half asleep, even if some of them are hiding it better than others. Fury isn’t even here yet and Tony’s made a deal with himself that if he doesn’t show in the next three minutes, he’s allowed to leave. That’s fair. Pepper probably won’t even be that annoyed with him. Steve might be, but honestly, Tony doesn’t care that much about Steve’s opinion at 10AM on a Saturday morning.

He doesn’t get to leave. Fury arrives less than two minutes later, scowling. He throws his phone down on the table, aiming it so it lands right in front of where Tony’s head is laying. Tony doesn’t jump from the sound, just raises his eyes to glare at Fury.

“It was your idea to bring him onto the team, you can get Parker to come here.” Fury is practically growling at him.

“You called this meeting at this God-awful time; you get him here.” Tony replies, pushing the phone away from him. He raises an eyebrow when Fury glares at him.

“You think I haven’t tried?” He complains as he takes a seat. “Damn kid is dodging my calls,”

“He’s probably asleep in his bed,” Bucky groans, twisting in his seat and resting his head against Sam’s shoulder. The other man doesn’t even try to push him off. “It’s where we all should be,” Tony sneaks a glance down at the phone Harley is hiding under the desk, where he’s clearly texting Pete and the kid is responding to him, sending pictures of dogs. He rolls his own eyes before asking FRIDAY to call Peter. He answers, barely letting the phone ring.

“If you’re trying to get me to come to whatever sucky meeting Fury is calling me about, you can tell him to go away. I’m busy.” Peter sounds annoyed through the phone. Harley tries to muffle the snort of amusement with a cough. He fails spectacularly.

“Get your ass here now, Parker,” Fury demands before Tony has a chance to say anything. Everyone is the room can hear Peter rolling his eyes down the line.

“God, Mr Fury, I would, but I’m busy,”

“I don’t care, Parker. You’re one of the team, this is a team meeting. Get here,”

“I can’t,” Peter snaps. “I’m busy,”

“Villains don’t care about your schedule.”

“I can’t come. I’m busy.”

“What are you up to, kid?” Tony manages to get in. Peter’s voice is a lot happier when he replies.

“Oh, hey, Mr Stark, you’re back!” He answers. “We’re at the park. Leia’s feeding the ducks. We’re busy.”

“And ducks are so important that you can’t feed them later this afternoon?” Fury snaps.

“Well, Mr Wilson bought Leia a duck onesie, and she’s been extremely excited about showing it to them. It’ll be dirty by this afternoon. That wouldn’t make a particularly good first impression with the ducks, you know,”

“Just bring the kid,” Fury tells him, before telling FRIDAY to terminate the call. No-one says anything for three minutes, until FRIDAY chimes in again. Tony jumps from where he is on the very verge of sleep.

“Boss, you have a new text for ‘Underoos’. You left your phone in the lab. Would you like to hear it?”

“Yeah, go on,”

“Text from Underoos: ‘Mr Stark, you would be doing me a solid if you told Fury you’re retiring or something, you know, so he’s less annoyed at me’,” There’s scattered laughter around the table, but Fury looks even angrier than he did before. “Text from Underoos: ‘don’t acc retire tho bc that would suck’. Text from Underoos: ‘you know, just get him off my back?? Bc he’s gonna be hella annoyed when I’m up there’.”

“Where is he, FRI?” Tony asks, ignoring Fury’s glowering.

“Mr Parker has just stepped into the lift. He has asked me to take him to the penthouse first.”

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

Peter sighs when Fury ends the call. He shoots a quick text to MJ to let him know where he’s going, and one to Harley complaining about Fury. He gets a short acknowledgement from MJ, and a description of how angry Fury is getting from Harley before he puts his phone away and moves back over to where Leia is laying breadcrumbs out for the ducks that are waddling around her.

“Right,” He sighs, crouching down next to her. She frowns when the ducks move backwards away from Peter. “We’re going to have to take a break from the ducks, kiddo. Mr Angry wants to see me at the tower,” Leia frowns deeper as she stands up from her own crouch, steadying herself on Peter’s arm.

“Uncle Tony will be there?” She asks, hopeful look on her face. She grins when Peter nods.

“Sure will be. He got back early this morning. And you can show Sam how much you like your new outfit, yeah?” Leia nods happily and laughs. “Alright. Where’s the other menace got to?” He asks, looking around in big, exaggerated movements, pretending he can’t hear the two lots of giggles. “Oof,” He groans quietly when something collides with his leg.

“Hi,” He looks down at the kid attached to his leg. He laughs as he peels the little hands off his jeans.

“There you are!” Peter exclaims dramatically, causing both Leia and the little boy to giggle harder. “I thought I was going to have to tell your mom that you’d been eaten or something!”

“Haven’t been eaten, Petey,” The boy smiles up at him. Peter grins down at him as he ruffles his hair.

“No, I guess not.” He crouches down again in front of the two toddlers, trying to look serious. He struggles to fight the smile when he looks at his two favourite kids. “Right, Lucas,” He starts. “I’ve got to go and speak to someone at work, okay?” Lucas nods happily, sends Peter a big, toothy grin. “So, you’ve gotta be on your best behaviour, yeah? And if you’re super-duper good, I’ll even tell MJ to take you to get ice cream on your way home!” He stands up when Lucas cheers. He picks up the backpack off the floor and swings it over his shoulder, before taking one of Leia and Lucas’s small hand in each of his own.

“Hello, Peter and Leia,” FRIDAY’s voice welcomes them when they step into the lift at the tower. Peter laughs at the way Lucas’s head spins around, looking for the source. “You appear to have an unauthorized youth with you.”

“This is Lucas, FRI,” Peter explains, squeezing Lucas’s hand. “He’s MJ’s brother.”

“Good morning, Lucas,” FRIDAY responds, a little warmth in her voice. “I will add you to my systems.”

“It’s FRIDAY,” Leia whispers to Lucas, where he’s still looking around suspiciously for the owner of the voice. “She’s invis’ble,” Peter laughs again at the look of awe on Lucas’s face.

“FRI, can you take us up to the penthouse first please? So I can grab some toys or something,”

“Of course, Peter.”

“Thank you,” When they get up to the penthouse, he grabs the box of colouring supplies from Leia’s bedroom, along with a few colouring books and some blank paper. Leia and Lucas are still in the open lift, playing some sort of hand game as they sit in the corner. They perk up as Peter steps back in.

By the time the doors open on the floor of the conference room, Leia is bouncing on her feet.

“Hey, be careful!” Peter calls after her as she runs down the hallway towards the room. Peter and Lucas, hand in hand again, walk slower towards the room. Peter laughs when Leia goes a room too far. He pushes the door open, still laughing. “This way, trouble,” He holds the door open for her to jet through, smiling when she runs straight up to Tony. Everyone in the room, except for Fury, smiles and offers her a hello. Natasha is the only one to notice.

“Peter,” She stage whispers towards him, small smile on her face. “I don’t want to alarm you, but you appear to be collecting children,” This gains everyone’s attention, including Fury’s, and Lucas hides his face into Peter’s jeans when all the attention is suddenly on him.

“This is Lucas,” Peter tells them, ruffling the boy’s hair. “He’s a bit shy,” Steve offers the small boy a wave and smiles brightly when Lucas sends a little wave back before hiding himself again. Peter leads Lucas over to the smaller table by the window that was added to the room when Leia started to come to meetings with Peter. He sets the books and box of stuff on the tabletop, before getting two drinks out of his backpack. “Leia, come and play with Luke, sweetheart,” Leia frowns at him where she’s hugging Tony tightly. “Come on, you can see Uncle Tony when the meeting’s finished,” Leia hesitates again, frowning until Tony bounces her slightly on his knee.

“Go and play with your friend, kid,” Tony tells her, lifting her up and putting her on the floor. He laughs when she pouts at him. “Go on, or I’ll tell Aunt Pepper to give the present we got you to DUM-E,”

“Present?” She asks, looking at him suspiciously.

“What, you think I wouldn’t bring my best friend something back from Tokyo?” He teases her, tapping her nose lightly. “But, you only get it if you go and play with Lucas. Go on,” She frowns once more before trotting over to Peter and Lucas, sitting down happily next to the other child.

“You need anything, just come and ask, yeah?” Peter tells them, waiting for their nods before joining the others at the bigger table. He takes the seat between Harley and Bruce.

“Why’d you have Luke?” Harley asks, not trying to stay quiet, barely looking up from his phone.

“MJ and her mom have gone to a doctor’s appointment,” Peter tells him, taking his own phone out of his pocket and hiding it out of Fury’s view. He looks up at the man who is glaring at him. “If you’ve got a problem, can we please leave it until there are no children around to hear it?”

“You better not make a habit of bringing random children to confidential meetings. What if he takes what we discuss home and tells somebody?”

“I thought villains didn’t care about my schedule, Mr Fury? If they did, they’d have known that this has been planned for weeks, and maybe they could rearrange their…villain-ing until I’m not looking after two children with nowhere else to go,” He shifts in his seat, trying to hide his laughter at the meme that Harley has just sent him of Fury.

“Anyway,” Harley looks up briefly, offering a bright, false smile. “He’s four, the only person who would believe what he’s saying is MJ and Peter tells-”

“Shut up, Harls,” Peter interrupts, kicking Harley’s shin. He laughs when Harley gasps and glares at him. “I thought this was an important meeting. I left the ducks for this. Shouldn’t you be doing some…meeting stuff?” He asks Fury before leaning back in his chair. He doesn’t say anything when Fury glares at him. As soon as Fury is talking again, he looks back down at his phone.

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

Peter’s only been half paying attention to what Fury is telling them about, knowing that Steve is paying attention and will give everyone a more concise version later. He makes sure he’s paying enough attention that, if he does ask, Peter will be able to at least bullshit an answer to any question Fury sends him.

The other half of his attention is split between the phone on his lap, where he and Harley have been texting for the entire meeting, and the two children sitting just in the corner of his eye line. Fury’s been talking for about an hour already, so he’s not really surprised when he feels a little hand pulling gently on his t-shirt. He places the phone on the table and turns his attention to the little boy by his side.

“Sup, buster?”

“Need to go, Petey,” The boy whispers back to him, cheeks flushing slightly. Peter just nods, taking his hand and standing up and picking his phone back up. Tony looks up at the movement, nodding when Peter gestures his head towards Lucas. Peter goes back over to the smaller table, bending down and asking Leia if she needs to go as well. She follows them happily out of the room, jetting off down the hallway in front of them.

They’re on their way back to the conference room when his phone rings.

“Hey,” He answers when he picks the phone up. “How’d it go?”

“All good!” MJ tells him, voice happy. “She’s growing me a very healthy little brother,”

“Congrats, dude!” Peter laughs. “Is she happy knowing you’ll both be outnumbered by men now?”

“Very happy. She doesn’t care as long as they’re all happy and healthy, really,”

“Yeah. Lucas will be pleased though,”

“Yeah, he will. I’ve just got mom home, so I’m on my way to you now. You still in the meeting?”

“We took a toilet break. Fury’s glaring at me through the window. He’s definitely going to yell at me later.” Peter sees and hears Bucky snort through the glass.

“Ha!” She laughs. “Get back in there, loser.”

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

Fury stops talking as soon as Peter leaves even though Tony knows that Fury knows the kid wasn’t paying attention, but he’s grateful for the break from the constant talking. He glances at Harley, who’s still on his phone, has been all morning, but has angled the screen away from Tony. The man nudges his foot, getting his attention.

“Who’re you texting, kid? Smiling like that?” He asks. Harley locks his phone immediately, snapping his head up to look at Tony.

“What?” He asks, tilting his head slightly. “Oh. Uh, no-one. Ned?” He stutters, before nodding his head, and talking with more conviction. “Yeah. Ned. We were talking about…Star Wars. Yeah.”

“You were talking to Ned about…Star Wars?” Sam joins in the conversation, voice disbelieving. Harley frowns.

“Yes?”

“Harley,” Natasha meets his eyes, raising an eyebrow. “You hate Star Wars,”

“Oh. Yeah but…Ned doesn’t.” He says after he hesitates for a split second. “I don’t like dinosaurs, but I still talk to Cap and Bucky, don’t I?” Whatever reply Steve is about to fire back is interrupted by Leia running back into the room with Lucas. Lucas hesitates for a moment before going back over to the table by the window, but Leia crawls straight into Tony’s lap.

“Where’s daddy got to, sweetheart?” He asks, moving her hair out of her face. She giggles at the sensation.

“Talking to Emmy,” She tells him happily as she rests her head on his shoulder. Tony hums softly.

“You having a nap?”

“Just wanna cuddle,” She tells him, shaking her head. Tony looks up when Bucky snorts. The older man just gestures behind Tony. Peter comes through the door then, phone to his ear.

“Yeah, floor 48. Alright. Yeah. See you later,” He says into the device before he sits down. “Lucas, your sister will be here in a few minutes, you wanna finish your drawing quickly?” He smiles when Lucas nods happily at him, and then turns back to Fury. “Sorry,”

“Moving on.” The director says, turning back towards the rest of the room. He barely gets 5 minutes into the presentation when FRIDAY interrupts again. Fury groans.

“Mr Parker, Miss Jones would like you to know she is on her way up,”

“Thank you.” Peter turns to Lucas, who is looking up at him, eyes wide. “Grab your stuff, munchkin,” Fury continues talking, and Tony can see how much he wants to be finished with meeting as soon as possible. He gets through another two points before there’s a knock on the door. Peter glances up.

“Quick as you like, Parker,” Tony chuckles when Fury sits down and pulls his own phone out, not even bothering to glare anymore. Peter looks at him suspiciously before gesturing for MJ to come in. She’s barely opened the door before Lucas crashes into her legs.

“Hey, buddy,”

“Petey said you’d get me ice cream if I was good,” He tells her. MJ lifts her eyes away from him to glare lightly at Peter.

“Did he now?” She raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. Peter just shrugs his shoulders. “And were you good?” She laughs when he nods his head quickly. “Well, I guess we can get ice cream then, if you’ve been very, very good,”

“Yay!” He giggles as he hugs her legs. Peter comes over to her, handing her Lucas’s jacket.

“You want me to take Leia?” She asks Peter, lowering her voice a bit for Fury doesn’t hear. “In case things kick off?”

“Would you? I’ll join you after?” He smiles gratefully when she nods. “Leia, princess, you wanna go and get some ice cream?” The toddler perks up in Tony’s lap. She nods her head, her curls bouncing. “Okay, come and get your shoes on,” He moves over to where she’s kicked her shoes across the room.

“How’s your ma, Em?” Harley asks her, putting his phone down on the table.

“Peter said she was at the doctors?” Tony asks, concerned look on his face. It shifts when MJ smiles at him.

“Yeah, she had a 20-week scan. She’s all good, though,” She ruffles Lucas’s hair, laughing when he sends her a little scowl. “Growing me another healthy little brat of a brother,”

“Nice,” is all Harley offers before picking his phone back up. MJ rolls her eyes, but still has a smile on her face. She glances over to Peter, checking he’s busy with Leia, before turning back to Harley.

“You joining us after, Keener?”

“Huh? What?” He asks, glancing up.

“Ice cream,” She says, giving him a look, eyes flitting across to the other teen putting his daughter’s shoes on. Harley follows her gaze. “You’re coming, yeah?”

“Sure. But I’m not-”

“Okay, Keener, see you later!” She calls, taking Leia’s hand when she comes over to her.

“Be good!” Peter calls after them, smiling when Leia waves at him. “Sorry,” Peter offers to Fury again. The man rolls his eyes, putting his phone down, and carries on with his presentation. Peter, while still not fully paying attention, at least tries to look more engaged than before, asks questions before Steve can, and only looks down at his phone periodically.

Fury gets through the rest of his presentation without interruption. It takes a little over an hour and a half more, and by the time Fury bites out “Dismissed.”, Tony is already halfway out of his seat.

“Parker.” Fury says, gaining the attention of everyone in the room. The kid looks up from his phone. “Stay behind. We’re going to have a talk about your professionalism.”

“My…professionalism?” Tony sits back down in his seat. Even Harley puts his phone away. Away. Not just beneath the table, he actually puts it in his pocket, and turns to watch Peter and Fury. Fury rolls his eyes when no-one leaves the room.

“I appreciate that you have a child in your care but bringing her and her little friends to confidential meetings in unacceptable.” Tony looks at Peter. He figures it would be inappropriate to laugh at the mixture of confusion and annoyance on his face.

“Are you…serious?” He asks. He puts the phone that’s in his hand face down on the table. “If you want me to stop bringing my daughter to meetings, try telling me about the meetings before I’m already late. Or!” He snaps his fingers sarcastically. “Here’s a better idea! Listen to me when I say I’m busy!”

“You were feeding ducks, Parker!”

“Yeah, and you took me away from that to spend nearly 3 hours telling us something Cap could tell us in 30 minutes!” Peter snaps back. Everyone is watching him carefully, not having expected him to bite back. “And it doesn’t matter. What does matter, is that I told you I was busy, at least four times, and you ignored that. It doesn’t matter what I was doing! And even if you don’t count what I was doing as being ‘busy’, what do you want me to do with a three and a four-year-old at 10AM on a Saturday?”

“Call a babysitter, put them in a class, I don’t care, Parker! You were needed here; you should have made arrangements. Bringing two children isn’t the solution!”

“Who do you want me to call?” Peter’s voice rises, his eyes going dark. “May’s in work, and Tony is right fucking there!” He gestures angrily towards Tony, who raises an eyebrow at the outburst. “Who do you want me to call?” Harley places a hand on Peter’s elbow gently. The younger teen deflates almost instantly, closing his eyes and taking a breath before he continues. “I get this is like, your full-time job or whatever, Fury, but it’s not mine. I choose to do this, I don’t get paid for this, and believe it or not, this isn’t my biggest priority.”

“It should be, Parker! There are people-” Peter stands up suddenly, moving towards the door.

“Unbe-fucking-lievable.” He mutters, before leaving the room. The door slams shut behind him. Clint and Sam both let out a low whistle as they all watch the door.

“Was that really necessary?” Natasha asks Fury. “What was he meant to do with two toddlers with no warning?”

“I don’t care-” Fury starts to reply but is interrupted by the door opening again.

“I’m terribly sorry for being so unprofessional and interrupting your very important meeting,” Peter doesn’t even look at Fury when he talks. “Harls, you coming to get ice cream?”

“Absolutely.” Harley says without hesitation. He scrambles out of the room, quickly catching up to Peter. Everyone watches through the glass except for Fury, who gathers his stuff together and leaves the room. It’s quiet.

“So,” Clint starts. Everyone turns to look at him. “Harley has a massive crush on Peter.”

[blossom-hwa]

Arc [Coming Home] - MARK |Swing!|

Again, this part contains many events in Spiderman: Homecoming, so spoiler alert! The timeline has also been changed so Civil War happens after Homecoming. Thanks again to @deathbykpopboys​ for inspiring this series :)

Pairing: Mark x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, Spiderman!au

Triggers: a lot of cursing, violence (esp. in this chapter), PANIC ATTACKS IN FUTURE CHAPTERS (I in no way meant to romanticize these triggers. If you feel I did, please let me know and I will fix it.)

Word Count: 7.8k

A school dance takes a backseat to bringing down an illegal weapons trade.

Attach >> Arc { 1 - Drifting Apart | 2 - Coming Home } >> Fall { 1 - Spiral | 2 - Rise }

NCT Masterlist | Swing!

If things were chilly before, they’re freezing now. You and Mark won’t even talk to each other.

Surprisingly, not a lot of people ask about what’s going on between you two. Maybe it’s because they can already sense that you don’t want to talk about it. Maybe it’s because you already told enough people off last year after they decided to pry into your nonexistent love life.

Anyway, even if they did ask, what would you say? Oh, Mark didn’t want to find the root cause behind the group dealing illegal fucking weapons made from alien material, and I did.

You’d get placed in a mental institution.

Patrols aren’t peaceful anymore. You go earlier now since the university labs need to be fixed up, which just means more hours of strained silence as you help people with directions and beat up muggers. The two of you still patrol on the same schedule, but you watch completely different sides of Queens.

You rarely, if ever, call on him for help anymore. It’s not like there’s that much going on anyway.

One week passes like this, then two. You skulk around the university every day after school, trying to find out literally anything about the weapons dealers, but the explosion blew everything up. You come to realize just how lucky you and Mark were to have made it out alive.

Still doesn’t mean you think he’s right.

You head home from the university one evening, ready to go out and patrol for a bit. Normally, you keep your suit at school now – it’s easier to just pick it up to change right after visiting university. Today, though, you wanted a snack, so you came home first.

To your surprise, just as you’ve pulled out your suit, you hear Johnny walk through the apartment door.

“Hey, Johnny.” You walk out of your room and give him a tired smile. “Did you get out early?”

“No, right on time.” Your brother gives you a quick hug. “There wasn’t any extra work to get done today, so we all left on the clock. I was just going to go out and get some food for us – give me half an hour?”

No patrolling tonight, then. That’s fine. “Sure.” You smile.

“Are you all right?” Johnny frowns slightly, leaning in slightly. “You look a little sick.”

You force a laugh. “Not sick. Just tired.”

Johnny still looks unconvinced. “You’ve been like this for a while,” he says carefully. “I know school’s stressful, but you didn’t used to be this tired.” He looks closer, eyes narrowing. “Have you been getting into fights? You look a little beat up.”

“Johnny, what?” You heave a sigh of (faked) disbelief. “I can’t even beat anyone in an arm-wrestling match. How do you expect me to get into fights? I yell a lot, but I’m not stupid. I just get bruises from moving around when I sleep.”

Your brother acquiesces. “Well, if anything’s going on, tell me, all right?” He smiles.

“Seriously, dude.” You smile back. “It’s just a little drama at school, that’s all. If you get me my favorite Chinese, I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine again.”

“If you say so.” Johnny starts turning around, then pauses. “How come Mark hasn’t been around in some time?”

Right. That.

“He’s, um, working on a project for Tuan,” you say quickly. “It’s taking up a lot of his time. Tuan wants a paper and presentation done before next month is over.”

“Shit.” Johnny whistles. “You kids just keep getting smarter and smarter.”

“As if you aren’t smart enough,” you scoff.

“You flatter me.” Your brother laughs, ruffling your hair. “Be back soon.” With a quick kiss on your head, he leaves the apartment and you throw yourself onto the couch.

And not two minutes later, there’s a knock on the door.

“Johnny? Did you forget some –”

It’s not Johnny.

It’s Haechan.

“Oh, hi, Haechan.” You smile. “Why’re you here?”

“Hi Y/N! I just wanted to ask you some stuff.” He smiles blindingly. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, sure. Leave your shoes here.” You close the door behind your friend. “My brother’s out for a bit, but he’ll be back soon. You can come into my room.”

Haechan follows behind as you walk across the small apartment to your bedroom. You open the door.

And you realize your mistake.

“Fuck, wait –” you panic, trying to close the door again. “Um –”

Too late. Haechan’s already seen the black hoodie and pale mask sitting on your bed.

Utter silence reigns in the apartment.

“You’re Spiderwoman?” Haechan finally shrieks, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you. “What the fuck, Y/N?”

You wince, lurching out of his grip. “Don’t call me that,” you groan, sinking to the floor. “Not Spiderwoman. I don’t like that.”

Haechan doesn’t even hear you. “How the fuck did that even happen?”

“God, okay, please just shut up and calm down before the entire neighborhood hears you.” You shove Haechan into your room and close the door. “Do not interrupt me while I explain.”

So you tell him everything – OsCorp, the spider bite, deciding to fight crime. You pause a little after talking about the alien weaponry, unsure whether to go into the details of your fight with Mark.

Haechan looks blindsided. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “So on top of school and lab work and AcaDec, you’re patrolling Queens until, like, two a.m.?”

You shrug. “Yeah.”

“Man, what the fuck.” He flops down on your bed. “That’s just…”

Silence comes over the room once more.

“Okay, I’m just going to file away all this information for processing later, I’m too sleep-deprived for this. Keep your phone on, I’m going to send you so many texts later. Anyway, I’m just here because I wanted to ask you what your and Mark’s deal is.” Haechan sits up again. “Because Mark’s being a little bitch and won’t say anything. You know he asked Lia to homecoming?”

Something stings in your stomach at the mention of Lia. “Yeah, I know.” You heard the news last week. “Well, I guess it’s easier to tell, now that you know.”

By the time you’ve finished talking about all of your fucked-up adventures with alien weapons and the vulture man, you think Haechan is going to have an aneurysm.

“So you’re pissed at Mark because he doesn’t want to fight alien guns, and he’s pissed at you because he thinks you have a death wish,” he eventually summarizes.

You nod.

“That’s a mess.”

You snort. “You think?”

More silence.

“So, are you going to homecoming?” Haechan asks, randomly changing the subject.

“The fuck kinda topic change –” You sigh. “I don’t know.”

You have a dress, bought on sale at a department store with Jihyo, Yeri, and Lia. The whole time, you wanted to just curl in on yourself and disappear because you’d already known Lia was going to the dance with Mark, but you somehow survived. It’s relatively cheap, but according to the other girls – even Lia, who seemed very uncomfortable every time she looked at you – it looks great.  

So you have a dress. You also have shoes, a pair of low heels that Jihyo lent you. Yeri has also promised to do your hair. You could definitely go to homecoming.

Whether or not you want to is another question.

“Hey, just go.” Haechan flops onto your bed again, jostling your blankets. “You don’t have to talk to Mark. Just go with Jihyo and Yeri. It’s junior year, might as well celebrate before the year goes to shit.”

“Are you going?” you ask.

“Duh.”

You picture the dress hanging in your closet. You imagine putting on Jihyo’s heels, Yeri’s smooth hands tying back your hair. You imagine laughing in a way you haven’t in weeks as you watch people whirl around stupidly on the dance floor.

With a sigh, you nod. “I’ll go.”

. . . . .

Mark hasn’t felt this nervous in what feels like forever. It’s not the terrifying kind of nervous, the kind that he feels when he’s breaking and entering secure university labs. This is a good kind of nervous – heart pounding not in terror, but with anticipation.

Aunt Mei drives him to Lia’s house after cooing over how handsome he looks in the suit they rented. It isn’t anything special, really, but Mark thinks he looks good. With a last reminder to “have fun!”, Mei drives to her night shift at the hospital, leaving him to ring the doorbell.

Lia’s mom opens the door. She’s a beautiful woman with a wide smile, and she immediately makes Mark feel welcome. “Come in, come in,” she says, waving him into the house. “You can wait for Lia in the kitchen, she’ll be down in just a minute.”

So there he stands, fiddling around with the corsage box in his hands. The house is a lot bigger than he thought – at the party, with the rooms so full of people, it seemed much smaller. He likes this change.

“Oh, hello. You must be Marcus!”

Mark turns around so fast it feels like he got whiplash.

Standing in front of him is who he thinks is Lia’s dad.

Which is bad, because Mark knows him as the vulture dude.

Belatedly, he realizes the vulture man – Lia’s dad? Jesus Christ, now he’s shaking – is holding out a hand. Gingerly, Mark reaches around and shakes it with fingers clammy with sweat, hoping his smile doesn’t look too fake. “M-Mark, actually,” he stutters.

“Well, it’s very good to meet you, Mark. Lia’s talked about you a lot. I’m Adrian Toomes.” That’s all he gets out before Lia comes down the stairs.

Mark is sure she looks beautiful. Her dress sparkles and she’s smiling widely as she takes the corsage and he takes her hand like he’s supposed to. But on the inside, he’s freaking out.

What do I do what do I do what do I do what do I do what the fuck do I do –

“I’ll drive you two there.” Mr. Toomes’s voice breaks through Mark’s swirling thoughts, turning them into a pool of existential dread. “I’ve got a flight in two hours, but I think I can spare the time to send my daughter off.”

“W-where’s your flight, sir?” Mark asks, hoping he sounds politely interested and not deathly afraid.

“New Jersey.” Mr. Toomes smiles at him. “I’m a parts collector, see, so I’m going off to inspect a new shipment.”

Alarm bells start ringing in Mark’s head. “I see,” he says faintly.

He’s pretty sure he’s sweating as he enters the car. Lia goes on her phone, still holding his hand, and smiles at him. He tries to smile back.

“So, Mark, Lia tells me you’re pretty smart.” Mr. Toomes smiles into the rearview mirror. “Considering you go to Midtown, that must be a pretty big compliment, huh?”

“He’s seriously smart, Dad.” Lia smiles back. “He’s probably going to be valedictorian.”

Mark laughs nervously. “Well, there’s still some competition…”

“Oh, hush.” She squeezes his hand. “He’s the best at physics on the AcaDec team, and he works in Professor Tuan’s lab after school! You know, the lab at… was it NYU?”

Mark’s eyes go wide. He knows he spoke during the confrontation at the university, but until now, vulture man hasn’t connected the dots yet. Maybe he just didn’t recognize Mark’s voice.

“This is the vulture dude?”

He winces.

Please don’t make the connection, please don’t make the connection, please…

His stomach plummets as Mr. Toomes’s eyes narrow. “Really? NYU? What do you do?”

“Oh, um, I help Professor Tuan build things, test material strength, write some simulation programs…” he trails off. “Not much.”

“Oh, shut up!” Lia starts talking again, but Mark can’t even think properly. Terror blurs his vision and fills his mind.

What should he do?

He told you he was going to give all of this up. He told you he didn’t want to die because of this mess. But there’s a clear lead right in front of him, the guy definitely recognizes him, and if he doesn’t do something tonight, this new shipment of whatever it is will probably escalate things to a whole new level.

Dimly, he registers the fact that Mr. Toomes has pulled up in front of the school. “Lia, darling, you go on first. I want to have a little talk with Mark here before I let him go.”

Mark feels sick.

Lia just rolls her eyes, oblivious to the turmoil occurring in his mind. “Don’t roast my date, Dad,” she warns playfully.

“I won’t.” He laughs, letting her kiss his cheek. “Now run along.”

Lia’s dad’s eyes turn blank immediately after the car door slams closed. Slowly, he turns around to face Mark.

The coldness radiating off his expression freezes Mark in place.

“Does she know?”

Mark almost squeaks. “Know… what?”

“So she doesn’t.” Mr. Toomes nods. “That’s good. Good boy.”

That shakes him to the core.

“I thought I knew your voice.” The man smirks slightly. “It’s all right. I’ve got a few secrets of my own. And I’ll tell you one thing – everything I’ve ever done was for my family. Every. Single. Thing.”

Outwardly, Mark doesn’t change his expression. Internally, he finds his resolve hardening.

How is selling illegal weapons something to do for your family? How is making crime even more prevalent something to do for your family? How is threatening to kill two sixteen-year-old kids something to do for your family?

If Toomes wasn’t the leader of this operation, Mark might back down. But his fancy house? His clear wealth?

That doesn’t give him much in Mark’s book.

“Lia likes you a lot. Likes Spiderman and Spiderwoman too, or whatever you and your little friend call yourselves.” He smirks again. “She’s my daughter. I love her. So for that, I’ll cut you a deal.”

Mark stays silent.

“You walk through those doors. You forget all of this ever happened. You and your buddy Spiderwoman never interfere with my business ever again.” His eyes narrow. “Or I will find every single person you hold dear and kill them in front of you.”

Silence.

“That’s how far I’ll go to protect my family.” Mr. Toomes smiles again, but it’s not a pleasant one.

More silence.

“Hey. I just saved your life.” His voice takes on a sharper edge. “What do you say?”

Mark swallows. “Thank you,” he mutters.

“You’re welcome.” The smile comes back, wolfish this time. “Now you go in there and show my daughter a good time.” He chuckles slightly. “Just not too good of a time.”

Mark nods. He opens the door, steps outside, and closes it.

He leaves his phone in the backseat.

. . . . .

You’re in the corner with Yeri, waiting for Jihyo and Daniel, when Lia walks through the door. Your eyes narrow.

“Where’s Mark?” Yeri expresses your question for you.

A barbed insult rises on your tongue, but you swallow it. Mark, whatever he said to you and you said to him, isn’t a bad person. He wouldn’t leave his date hanging. And sure enough, a few minutes later, he walks in too.

Only he doesn’t head for Lia.

His eyes search the room, clearly looking for someone else even though Lia’s almost directly in front of him. They settle on you, and he immediately starts walking – almost running – over.

“Why’s he coming here?” Yeri mutters. Annoyance starts building up in your chest as well, until Mark gets close enough for you to see the panicked but resolute expression on his face.

“Y/N,” he breathes once he reaches you. “Y/N, please, can we talk?”

The petty part of you wants to say no, but the rational part of you pushes it back. Mark looks like he’s about to have a heart attack. You’ve only ever seen him like this before when he’s full-on panicking.

Like that first anniversary of his uncle’s death.

You nod. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go. Now.”

Yeri makes a noise of concern in her throat, but you flash her a quick smile. “It’s fine, Yeri. Have fun with Jihyo and Daniel, all right? I’ll find you.”

You have a feeling you won’t.

Mark all but drags you out of the decorated cafeteria and into an empty, dark hallway. “Mark?” You grab his wrist, forcing him to turn around. “Mark, what’s wrong?”

“Lia’s dad is vulture man.”

Your knees go weak. “Run that by me one more time.”

“Lia’s dad is vulture man,” Mark says again, looking more and more panicked by the second. “He drove us here and when Lia mentioned I work with Tuan, he made the connection. He heard me talk that night with the explosions, remember?”

You do. All too well.

“He let me go if I promised not to say anything and now he’s going to pick up a fucking shipment somewhere in New Jersey and I left my phone in his backseat so one of us could stay behind and track it –”

You cut Mark off before he starts hyperventilating. “Haechan.”

“What? What does Haechan –”

“He came over one day and accidentally saw my outfit,” you explain. “He knows, Mark.”

Mark just takes it without further explanation. That’s how you know how frazzled he is. “Okay, so –”

You’re already calling him. Haechan picks up after two rings. “Y/N?”

“Come to the hallway just behind the cafeteria.” You hang up.

Haechan appears a minute later, looking extremely ruffled. “What’s going on?”

“Go to the library. Disable the cameras. Track Mark’s phone. We’re going after vulture man.”

“Wait, what –”

“Go!” you snap.

He goes.

“You keep your suit at school, right?” You don’t wait for an answer, just start sprinting down the halls. “Go get it and meet me at the back exit.”

Five minutes later, you’ve stripped out of your dress and are pulling on your mask as you race outside. Mark’s already there. You call Haechan. “Where’s Mark’s phone?”

“On 116th, heading north.” A keyboard clacks in the background. “If you go now, you can catch him. Traffic’s a bitch.”

Mark looks at you. You look at him.

Together, you swing onto the school rooftop and start running.

. . .

After fifteen minutes of nonstop sprinting and swinging and cursing when Haechan tells you to change directions, Mark finally spots the tail of the car. “There!” he yells, pointing to the streets as it takes a sharp turn and disappears.

Something doesn’t feel right. That road doesn’t go to the airport.

In fact, now that you think of it, you’ve been going in the complete opposite direction this entire time.

“The fuck?” you yell, leaping onto a streetlight. “That’s not the way to the airport! Haechan! Where’s he headed?”

“Don’t fucking know!” Haechan hisses into the phone. “Just keep going or you’ll lose him!”

You lose the car five minutes later. Haechan gets you back on track after five more. Fifteen excruciating minutes pass before Haechan finally says the car’s stopped.

“He’s at the old industrial park! You know, the one with the building that’s abandoned and shit? The one that everyone thinks is haunted?”

“Mark!” you screech above the noise of traffic. “I thought you said he was going to New Jersey!”

“I don’t fucking know! That’s what he told me! Obviously he lied!” Mark yells, still sprinting. Cursing under your breath, you follow.

Finally, you can see the park up ahead. The last few steps you take are more like stumbling than running. You almost collapse onto the ground right then and there.

“Okay,” Mark gasps, picking up the phone you’ve dropped. “We’re good, Haechan. Thanks. Just –” he wheezes – “be ready in case we call again.”

“Got it.” Haechan coughs slightly. “Be careful.”

The line goes dead.

The abandoned building looms ahead, dark and foreboding. You swallow.

“Let’s go.”

. . . . .

There’s a very clear reason why everyone thinks this industrial park is haunted. One: it looks haunted. Two: it used to house a very dangerous, non-law-abiding factory, and multiple people died in it. Three: it fucking looks haunted.

When Mark was younger, someone once dared him to come here and stay in the building alone for ten minutes. He didn’t take it, because he was a coward, but he also wasn’t stupid.

Now he’s just as much of a coward, but he’s obtained the stupid. Which is why he’s about to walk into the building that no one willingly goes into because they’re not stupid.

“I’ll go first,” he whispers. “It’ll be better if he thinks I’m alone.”

You nod. “I’ll be on the ceiling.”

Mark steps into the abandoned factory without you by his side. He can hear you stepping quietly above, which comforts him slightly, but it’s still strange to be walking through the empty halls all on his own. Your outline is barely visible to him in the dark.

The inside actually looks clean. Clearly, Lia’s dad has been using this place for some time. Parts and pieces of machinery litter tables spread out between several rooms. Some of them glow.

Mark moves faster. Hopefully he hasn’t left yet, hopefully he’s still here…

He rounds one more corner and turns into a humongous empty room. At the other end, Toomes stands, back to Mark, tinkering with something on another table.

Web strands streak out of the shooter on Mark’s wrist, pinning Toomes’s leg to the floor. The man looks around, barely fazed, and sighs. “Hey, Mark. Didn’t hear you come in.”

“It’s over,” Mark calls, stepping forward. “I’ve got you.”

Despite his words, though, he feels he couldn’t be further from the truth.

“You know, Mark, I really do admire your grit and perseverance.” Toomes turns fully, leaning against the table. “I see why Lia likes you. Gotta admit, at first, I kind of thought, ‘really?’ But I see it now.”

“Why would you do this to her?” Mark presses.

Toomes chuckles. “To her? On the contrary, young man, I’ve done all of this for her.”

Sure.

He must sense the nonplussed look on Mark’s face, even behind the mask, because he just sighs. “Mark. Listen. You’re too young. You don’t know how the world works.”

“Yeah, but I do understand that selling high-powered weapons made of alien materials that could potentially do more harm to citizens than a crate of machine guns combined is wrong,” Mark snaps.

“How do you think people like Stark paid for their shit? Their toys?” Toomes gestures broadly with one hand. “Those people up there, they don’t care about the underdogs like you and me. We clean their messes, fight their wars, and what do they do? They’re powerful. They just do whatever they want. They don’t care about us.” He sighs again. “That’s just how it is.”

Real anger starts to boil in Mark’s stomach. “Do not lump me with you,” he snarls. “On the contrary, I do know what you’re talking about. My uncle died when someone shot him in the stomach, and no one could find the shooter to bring him to justice. Just closed the investigation and let it rot. My best friend’s parents died after some drunk rich kid crashed their car. Daddy just paid off the courts, let the kid go free on probation. You think I don’t know how the world works?” He heaves in a breath. “The difference is, we – ” he catches himself before revealing he isn’t alone – “I’m trying to make it a better place. You’re so rotten that you think making the world worse is setting things right.”

Silence.

Mark sighs. “Why are you telling me all of this, anyway?”

“Because I want you to understand.” His eyes flicker upwards, and he smirks. “Oh, and I needed a bit of time to get her airborne.”

Her?

There’s a whizzing noise, and then you yell. A loud crunch sounds before Mark can even blink, and then you’re landing on the floor amidst a cloud of concrete dust.

“Should call her Raid, huh?” Toomes pats the flying metal device affectionately. “Pretty good at flushing out the roaches.”

“The only roach here is you,” you spit, standing up. “And the difference is that Raid kills.”

Toomes just lets the thing go.

The next few seconds are a blur. The device moves faster than he ever imagined anything could. Pillars crunch as it zooms through concrete. React or die – there’s no time to even think.

“I’m sorry, Mark.” Toomes’s voice carries through the room.

“The fuck are you talking about?” Mark yells. “It hasn’t even touched us!”

“True.” Toomes shrugs. “Then again, it wasn’t really trying to.”

Several more pillars crunch. Mark’s danger sense goes off like nuts.

Concrete blocks start crashing down all around him.

“If you get out of here, tell Mr. Stark I said hello,” Toomes laughs.

The last thing Mark hears is his voice screaming your name.

. . . . .

Trapped under several chunks of concrete, the first coherent thought that runs through your mind is where is Mark.

Then: how do I get out of here.

Panic bubbles in your chest when you finally register that concrete blocks have you encased on all sides. One pins your legs down. Two more flank your sides. Another rests on top of the others, giving you just enough air to breath but not nearly enough to move. A last block pretty much locks your head in.

You’re fully trapped.

Hysteria builds in your throat. You breathe faster. “Mark?” you yell as loud as you can. “Mark?” Your words turn to dry, choked sobs as you struggle underneath the blocks. “Anyone! Someone, help – Mark? MARK!”

There’s no reply.

You lie there for an untold amount of time, trying to calm your breathing. A few seconds? A few minutes? An hour? You don’t know. All you can think of is that you need to get out of here.

Come hell or high water, you’re finding Mark.

And then you’re going to hunt a vulture down.

Another deep breath. And then another. Your legs are pinned to the ground, not hard enough to break them – another block must be in the path of the more immediate one – but not enough for any movement at all. There’s a little space between your chest and the block above it, though.

You push.

The block shifts.

You push harder.

It shifts some more.

You scream as you shove your hands upward with all of your remaining energy. There’s a loud crumbling noise, a rush of dust that makes you cough and sneeze, and then your torso is free.

Moving the block on your legs is easier, though you’re far more drained than before. Throwing off the other concrete chunks, you stand up and start screaming Mark’s name again.

Time passes far too quickly and far too slowly as you stumble through the mess of rubble, hoarsely shouting for Mark. At some point, the shouts devolve into loud sobs and pleas and prayers to whatever god is listening to please, please help me find my best friend, I can’t live without him, I’m sorry for everything I thought about him these past few weeks, I love him and I want him back, please –

“Mark!” you scream, ready to sink to your knees with exhaustion. “Mark, please!”

You can’t live without him. You can’t. He pulls you from the earth when you get too jaded, softens your rough edges, smooths you into something beautiful that you wouldn’t be without him.

He can’t die.

“Y/N?”

It’s faint, but it’s there. You whip around in that direction, stepping lightly around the rubble to not bring more blocks down on him. “Mark?” you call.

“Here!”

You zero in on a pile of slightly moving blocks. With a chest nearly bursting with relief, you race over and start shoving them away. Slowly, Mark’s face becomes visible beneath a cloud of dust.

The sound of coughing never sounded more like a blessing in your entire life.

“Mark,” you sob, pulling your friend out of the mess. “Mark, holy fuck, I’m so sorry – I shouldn’t have yelled at you about pursuing this – I’m so fucking stupid, I thought you died –”

“Y/N,” he whispers hoarsely, wrapping his trembling arms around you. “Y/N, you’re here.”

He sounds so disbelieving, like he thought you were dead or dying. Maybe he still thinks that. It breaks your heart. “I’m here, Mark.” You bury your face in his shoulder. “I’m here.”

For several seconds, the two of you just sit there, exhausted, crying into each other’s necks. “I’m sorry,” Mark finally mumbles into your skin. “I shouldn’t have lied. I shouldn’t have pushed you away. I’m so sorry.”

You let out a choked laugh. “I’m sorry for overreacting. Sorry for yelling about you not wanting to continue – just fucking look where this got us.”

Mark pulls away. “No, don’t apologize for that.” He wipes his eyes, looking determined. “We’re alive. We’ve got Toomes.” You follow his gaze to an empty billboard just beyond the rubble. Metal wings, pressed together like a vulture’s, glimmer in the city lights. “We’re going to finish this.”

“You sure?” Not that you don’t want to. You’re itching to push that stupid scavenger off of a cliff, but you worry about Mark’s injuries. “You’re not hurt or anything?”

“No more than you.” Mark sets his jaw. “Let’s do this.”

You nod. “What was the last thing Toomes said? Something about Stark?”

Mark bites his lip. “Yeah. Something about telling Stark hello…” His eyes widen. “Isn’t Stark Industries moving a lot of stuff to the Avengers compound?”

Your heart stops. It’s all the news has been talking about for the past few weeks, how Stark is moving business to the Avengers headquarters. Stark Industries stock has been going nuts, apparently. You never remembered the exact date because you didn’t care, but…

“Today’s moving day,” you say grimly. You pat the pocket of your pants, surprised to see that your phone is still there in one piece. A quick text to Haechan tells him to track your phone, if he can.

Mark swallows, looking at the vulture glinting on the billboard. “Let’s go.”

. . . . .

The two of you stumble out of all the rubble just as the vulture is getting ready for takeoff.

A desperate shot of fluid and a leap gets Mark onto the billboard. Another string of webbing attaches him to one of the vulture wings. You stick yourself to the other.

Only pure instinct keeps Mark holding tight to the webbing, praying to the heavens that your synthetic webs will stay strong. He prays that you can hold on. He prays that Toomes won’t notice the two of you dragging along behind him as the webbing torturously swings him around. He forces himself not to look down, even as Toomes flies up higher and higher past skyscrapers and low-hanging clouds.

Mark looks over slightly, just to check on how you’re doing. Even in the dark, he can tell your eyes are squeezed completely shut, fingers gripping your string of webs as tightly as possible. Your lips are pressed together. Probably so you don’t scream.

Good idea. Mark shuts his mouth and looks ahead.

Then he sees the thing that Toomes is aiming for.

A huge jet looms ahead. To anyone down below, it would look like just like the passing clouds – there’s a sort of camouflage on it. But Mark’s close enough to see the outline of the plane, to notice the clear Stark seal on one wing.

His heart plummets even lower, if possible.

Then there’s no time to think because the vulture is landing and Mark is being bumped against the side of the plane and ow, this fucking hurts, this is such a mess –

A purple rectangle glows farther ahead on the belly of the jet. Mark registers you lashing out another string of webbing onto the plane as Toomes disappears into the glowing patch.

He’s inside the plane.

Mark starts sliding backward before he can fully process that thought. He thinks he hears you scream his name but he doesn’t have time to register it. His heart races as he scrabbles awkwardly on the underside of the plane until a lucky shot from his web shooter latches him into place.

And he doesn’t even have the time to take a fucking breath because Toomes is inside the plane and now he has to find a way to fuck around with the plane to take it down. The two of you are going to have to try to get the vulture’s attention.

Somehow, Mark finds himself splayed upside down on the bottom of plane. His palms stick to the jet – he’s never going to take being sticky for granted now – but his feet are scrambling. He finds a foothold in a tile or a bar or something and sighs in relief.

You yell something that’s garbled by the wind. “What?” Mark shouts.

“KICK!”

Without bothering to question you, he does.

His foothold disappears. Mark screams, curses, then steadies himself again. Why did you…?

Toomes climbs out of the purple patch, spitting mad.

Oh, fuck. Whatever his foothold was, it must have disappeared through the purple opening when he kicked it.

Well, it got the vulture’s attention, all right.

Wings shoot past Mark with blinding speed, nearly taking his scalp off. He ducks just in time, but when he lifts his head again, the vulture’s picked you up and is speeding off.

“NO!”

Mark raises an arm, not caring how precarious his position is, and shoots a web into the vulture’s wings.

It stops Toomes, especially after you shoot your own web onto one of the plane’s engines, causing his momentum to slam him backward into the plane right next to said engine.

And then you fly into the engine itself.

. . . . .

You can feel the engine literally trying to tear your clothes apart. One web keeps the engine far enough away that it stops trying to eat your skin, but you can still feel the pure heat and energy radiating off of it.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck –

With a loud cracking noise that you can hear above the whipping wind, the engine begins splitting off from the rest of the plane, nearly taking you with it.

Your anxious scrabbling rewards you with one hand on the edge of the plane, but the engine’s still trailing behind.

An idea springs into your mind. A plane is more likely to go down without an engine, and most of Stark’s planes don’t have human pilots.

If you can get the plane to crash…

Your legs slam down once, twice, three times, breaking the engine off completely. You haul yourself into a more stable position, ducking just in time for Toomes to come racing over your head.

Mark shouts something unintelligible. Vulture wings race over to attack him instead. You shoot webs wildly, trying to immobilize the wings, to hold you to the plane, to do something, anything.

One of the vulture wings sinks into the top of the plane.

“Those things were sharp?” you yell, unable to contain your thoughts anymore.

“The plane’s heading –” wind whistles as Mark shouts – “city!”

With wide eyes, you catch on. The plane is literally on course to crash into the buildings just off the beach.

Fuck fuck fuck how do we get it to land on the beach instead –

You lash out with another shot of web fluid, latching onto one of the plane’s wings. “PULL!” you shriek, motioning wildly for Mark to do the same.

Turn turn fucking turn PLEASE turn –

And somehow, as the jet plummets down so fast you can feel it scraping the tops of the roller coasters and buildings lining the beach’s pier, the two of you pull it off course enough to crash land on the empty beach.

You slam onto the sand. Your head throbs. Webbing is still attaching you to the plane.

Everything’s on fire. You can’t breathe. Slowly, with trembling fingers, you pull off your mask, beyond caring if Toomes sees who you are. He already knows Mark. At least he doesn’t know your name.

Air comes a bit easier then, even if the smoke finds a quicker path to your lungs too. Coughs rack your body and you turn to your side, trembling.

“God, what the fuck,” you mumble. Everything sounds muffled, like you’re underwater. Your sit up slowly. A small, dark lump swims into your vision.

Mark.

Something gets you to stand fully and start wobbling towards your best friend. By some fucking miracle, he starts to stir, sitting up just as you fall to the sand next to him.

There’s a second of silence.

Then vulture wings snap out and toss the two of you back into the air.

Toomes stands as you slam back into the sand, barely fazed, with a manic smile on his face. “Hey, Marcus and friends,” he sneers.

“Friends shouldn’t be plural,” you mumble. “I’m only one friend.”

Fast. He moves too fast. You barely lurch out of the way of his leap in time.

Toomes flies out of reach. Mark cries out, snapping out a string of webbing to bring him back to earth.

Mistake. Toomes lets the momentum bring him down.

And starts punching Mark in the face.

A guttural scream rips from your throat – literally rips, it feels like your throat has been torn apart and remade with blood and smoke and ash – and you launch into the air with some fucking hidden reservoir of strength fueled by pure rage to knock the metal-winged man over. Mark groans, rolling out of the way, only for the wings to pick him up again and take him to the sky.

And then he drops.

“MARK!”

You scramble under your best friend’s path, hands up as though you’re saying a prayer. Mark lands on you hard and maybe something snaps, but you don’t care because he’s breathing, his eyes are open, and he’s not dead.

But vulture man decides to play with you next. Before you can even blink, you’re being tossed up, landing hard between the sharp metal wings. He plucks you out of the air as you begin to fall and slams you back onto the earth.

Sharp pain claws through your chest and you just want to give up and lie down forever. But Mark is rolling away, somehow keeping out of reach of the winged man, and you pick yourself up so he doesn’t have to do it alone.

Two claw-like contraptions jet out from the engine on Toomes’s back, snagging both of you by your hoods. The neck of your hoodie digs into your throat.

Is this it?

Is he just gonna fuckin – you wheeze – fuckin watch us choke to death on fumes?

Apparently, he isn’t. He lets you go. You and Mark drop like stones.

“Pathetic.” Toomes stands over your bodies. You can’t see his face between his helmet and your blurred vision, but you know it must be twisted in that terrifying smirk. He takes off the helmet, laughs, and takes off, snatching up one of the less-battered boxes from the plane along the way.

That’s it.

You’ve failed.

You were too late.

You open your mouth to scream some fucking obscenities, but your voice dies when you hear the crackling. It’s not a good sort of crackling, like popcorn.

Electricity.

Mark raises his head and points. “He…” He coughs. “Going to explode.”

Blue sparks rise from the engine pack and shower off the metal wings, like a bizarre show of fireworks. And Mark, lovely selfless wonderful Mark, drags himself up and starts screaming.

“Wings!” he yells. “Your wing suit! Wing suit’s gonna explode!”

A jet of web fluid streaks from his shooter, pulling Toomes down. As Mark starts stumbling, Toomes pulling him along, you send out your own line of webbing. The two of you stand your ground with the last remnants of your strength.

“Time to go home, Marcus!” Toomes laughs wildly.

“I’M TRYING TO FUCKING SAVE YOU!” Mark screams. Tears streak down his face.

A sharp wingtip slices through your strings of webbing. You fall to the ground. From the sand, you can’t do anything but watch the disaster about to unfold.

It’s bizarrely beautiful. Purple-blue sparks rain down onto the beach, illuminating the sand and bits of the still ocean. Lightning arcs along the wings like a miniature, destructive storm.

Next to you, Mark tries to throw out more webbing. You can’t even find the energy to lift your arms. But his webbing misfires, lands on something else, flails in the air. It can’t reach Toomes, who’s now cackling wildly.

There’s an explosion. You’re thrown back further into the sand.

And then the vulture falls.

. . . . .

Mark knows how badly Toomes has hurt him. He knows how badly Toomes has hurt you. Cuts line his arms and face, there are bruises all over his body, and his head aches like it’s been smashed against a solid surface, which it has. You’re in at least the same condition, if not worse.

But he can’t just let the man die. He can stand trial, get life behind bars, but he can’t just die.

So from somewhere, he drags out a final burst of strength, and starts running through the fires to where the vulture fell. His feet fall unsteadily on the sand, but he keeps forcing them on.

Coughing sounds nearby. Mark looks over to see you following, head twisted to the side as you hack out cough after cough. He wants to tell you to go back and rest, but he knows you won’t.

Instead, he slows down for a second and takes your hand before forging on.

The wings have encased Toomes in a sort of shell. With your help, Mark shoves them off to get at the battered man lying beneath them. He grabs his chest. You grab his legs. Together, you carry him off to another part of the beach.

The three of you collapse, groaning and coughing and wheezing on the sand. Mark stares at the black night, stars invisible from light pollution.

Nothing feels real. The sand under his hands glitters ominously in the firelight. The ocean shimmers like a threat. Toomes hacks and coughs, each sound scarier than the last.

And then something warm, something dirty and rough and soft, lands on his hand. Your fingers curl around his palm and squeeze lightly.

Oh.

That feels real.

Your touch grounds him, keeps his thoughts from floating away and disappearing into the void of the sky. He wants more of it. He wants to pull you close, feel your body against his, real, solid, whole, keeping him planted on the earth. But he doesn’t have the strength to, so he just takes what he can from your warm touch.

Mark doesn’t know how long the three of you just lie on the sand. He does know that at some point, you and him gain enough strength to sit up and then stand. You look at Toomes, who stares back, unseeing.

“It’s over,” you mumble, almost staggering into Mark’s side. “We’re done.”

He nods. “Just one more thing.”

. . . . .

Pictures in newspaper articles show up the next day of Toomes, webbed up and immobilized against a still-standing box from the wreckage of Tony Stark’s plane. In most, the photographer has taken great care to keep the ragged note, stuck on Toomes’s forehead, clear in the frame.

The note is messy, written in trembling handwriting on the back of what looks like an inventory sheet. Black soot stains the page, but the writing is still visible.

FOUND: flying vulture dude trying to steal alien weapons and stuff

  - Spiderman and Silk (sorry about the plane)

You don’t care much for it. The day after homecoming is Saturday, which you spend curled up in your bed. At some point, after you’ve finally gained the strength to shower off all the grime and blood and sweat, Johnny makes a joke about how hard you must’ve gone that night. Thankfully, you don’t have many cuts on your face. They’re all hidden under layers of clothing. His eyes don’t linger too long on anything, so you feel a bit safer.

But, Jesus Christ, if only he knew.

By Monday, you feel refreshed enough to head back to school. Johnny doesn’t have an abnormally late shift that day, so you give him a hug before you leave. If it’s a little tighter than normal, he doesn’t say anything, just kisses your head and hugs you back.

You spot Lia in the hallway, pulling stuff out of her locker. Her eyes are puffy and red. Guilt rises in your stomach and threatens to swallow you whole.

Even though Toomes tried to kill you, he was still her father. And now that she knows what he’s done…

That can’t be easy.

“Lia,” you call, walking over cautiously. She turns her head and gives you a weak smile.

“Hey.”

“I…” You shuffle your feet. “I heard what happened. I’m really so sorry. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling right now.”

You are sorry. But Lia won’t take it in the way you mean. After all, she doesn’t know that you’re one of the two vigilantes who took her father down.

Lia’s smile turns bitter. “Yeah. Well, we’re moving to Oregon. Mom says it’s nice.” She rolls her eyes. “I think –” she chokes – “I think Dad doesn’t want us here during the trial.”

More guilt washes over your entire body. You can’t think of what to say.

“Look, I know we don’t know each other very well.” You swallow. “But if there’s ever anything I can do to help, please just know that you can reach out.”

Lia looks at you. Scrutinizes you through puffy, narrowed eyes. “You know, I really did think that the night of homecoming, you and Mark snuck off together.”

What?

“Oh my god, no.” You shake your head wildly. “No, no, no. That didn’t happen, I swear –”

Well, it kind of did. Just not in the way she thinks.

“Yeah, I know.” Lia smiles half-heartedly. “Mark already told me. He called, after. His aunt had an emergency, you were the only one he could reach out to in the moment…” She trails off.

It’s a lie. Obviously. You just nod, heart sinking.

“But yeah.” Lia looks at you steadily. “He’s a good guy.”

You nod, throat tight. “Yeah.”

“I thought he might’ve actually liked me, but…” She wipes her eyes. “It’s pretty clear who he really does.”

At that, your eyebrows furrow. “Lia, I promise you that he really did like you.”

“Maybe. Just not as much as he or I thought.” She gives you one last smile. “Take care of him.”

You really don’t have the mental energy to process everything behind that statement, so you just smile slightly. “I will.”

Lia reaches out for a hug. You accept. It isn’t super awkward, like you would’ve thought. She trembles slightly in your hold and you pat her back.

“Good luck,” you whisper.

She pulls away. “Thanks.”

[simplyshelbs16xoxo]

‘wreck my plans’ chapter 6: your heart was glass...

FFN | Ao3 | Buy Me a Coffee?

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               They took the night train into Sheffield. Tom sat across from her, a science fiction novel open in his hands. It was only a two hour ride, but Molly wished she had brought something to distract her from everything. Instead she sat there, her heart hurting, wishing she had the courage to bring up what she needed to speak to him about. There had been a lack of that lately, courage. The first weekend of the new year, she had a symposium to attend where she’d be giving a talk about her most recent published article.

               Curious, she decided to at least say something. “Did you ever read my paper? The one that was published a few weeks back?”

               Without looking up from his book, Tom furrowed his brows. “What paper?”

               “It was the one about the unusual cases of tandem bullets and how to spot the findings of such an injury,” Molly reminded him.  

               “Uh, no, sorry, Molls, can’t say I have,” he replied, still not looking at her. “You know it’s not my cup of tea.”

               Not his cup of tea, indeed. She rolled her eyes. Of course he hadn’t. But Sherlock had. And without prompting. A small smile bloomed on her face at the memory. He had told her it was brilliant. “My clever Molly,” he called her.

               Molly turned her head toward the window, watching as more stars dotted the sky the further from London they got. She blinked her eyes slowly, fighting the exhaustion she felt. It wasn’t long before everything went black, dreams of Sherlock in her head. This time, she didn’t fight them. They were lovely dreams of Sherlock kissing her, holding her, touching her, making her his. It was more than she could bear. Then they were dancing, the song playing in the background tugging at her heart.

                                     Goodbye, my almost lover

                                   Goodbye, my hopeless dream

               Tears stained her face as she slept. She’d cry an ocean for him, the water’s colour matching his eyes. He was calling out to her, her name like a prayer on his lips. What followed were the words she had longed to hear him say: I love you. And damn it, she could no longer deny that she loved him too.

.

.

               Arrived in Sheffield safe and sound. It probably won’t be long until I’m dead to the world. Happy Christmas to you too, Sherlock. And thanks for thinking of me.

                -Mx

                Sherlock read over her words several times before finally setting his phone down to look over the sheet music in front of him, adding the final notes to his composition for her. Reaching for his violin, he put the bow to the strings, allowing the first sorrowful notes to overcome him. The music coursed through his veins as it poured out from his heart. The tone shifted into something tender, romantic. He thought of her eyes, her laugh, her smile; the way she lingered long enough to drive him crazy when she kissed his cheek.

                Downstairs, Mrs. Hudson listened to the music—she loved it when he played—with tears in her eyes. “You poor dear…” she blubbered, using a tissue to blow her nose. She so wished he would just tell Molly how he felt. There was no doubt in her mind that the girl loved him back. They were both so damn stubborn.

                 As Sherlock brought the music to a close, he let out a ragged breath. Setting the violin back in its case, he thought of how much he wished he could have her here for Christmas. He wasn’t overly fond of the holiday, but it sparked joy in her. They could spend it together—just the two of them by the fire, he in his chair and her, legs curled up on his lap. It was a nice little dream. Sherlock so desperately wanted her to know he loved her. He wasn’t giving up without a fight this time.

.

.

                  Molly looked around at all the once-familiar faces. The house was crowded with Tom’s family—people she met only a small handful of times—but she never felt so alone in her life. When she thought of family, images of John and Mary showed up, Greg, Mycroft, Mrs. Hudson, and, of course, Sherlock. They were the ones she should be spending Christmas with. It wasn’t that Tom’s family was awful—quite the opposite. It had been so long since she had a parent-like figure in her life.

                   “Have you two set a date yet?” his mother asked. She threw a stealthy wink at her son.

                   Tom shook his head, amused by the question. “We discussed April in the beginning, didn’t we, Molls?”

                   “Hmm?” she said sleepily. “Oh, uh, yeah.” They only discussed it, never officially choosing anything yet. Or, at least, she never did. “Sorry, just a bit tired from the ride over. Thomas, do you know if my phone is done charging yet?”

                   He headed over to the small charging table across the room and retrieved it for her. “All charged up,” he smiled, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

                   “Thanks,” she replied, a sad smile on her face. Tom did love her, she had no doubt about that, but it wasn’t the way she had always imagined. Then again, life wasn’t a fairytale. But it could be, Mary’s voice rang clear in her head. Molly unlocked her phone finding another text from Sherlock.

                   Glad you made it safely. Have a good night, Molly. Sleep well and have pleasant dreams.

                   -SHx

.

.

                   She had no idea how long she sat there staring at the little ‘x’ he added beside his initials just for her. Needing to be alone with her thoughts, Molly headed upstairs. A few people—his mum, aunt, and grandmother—bid her goodnight. She acknowledged them briefly, happy when she was able to turn the corner at the top of the steps. It was another hour or so before Tom joined her. He slipped in beneath the duvet, oblivious to the fact she had been crying. Not that she knew what for. She wanted to start a fight with him if only just to feel something other than the pain that had been eating her up for weeks.

                   “I don’t think I’m who you think I am,” she muttered to him.

                   Tom turned toward her. “Where’s this coming from?”

                   Molly sighed. “From a long overdue conversation, and please don’t just shut me down like you always do. It’s getting old. I think when you met me, I was a shell of the person I am. You fell in love with the wrong girl.”

                   “Come, now, Molls, I know who you are,” Tom tried to assure her. “This is just wed—well, engagement jitters. Is that why we haven’t done much of anything to plan? I know it can be overwhelming.”

                   She shook her head. He really didn’t know her at all. “What’s my favourite colour?”

                   “I—what’s that got to do with anything?” he asked. “It’s green.”

                   Molly smiled sadly. “No, it’s not. It’s yellow.”

                   “It’s just a colour, Molls,” he told her, yawning.

                   “It’s your favourite colour,” she told him.

                   “What is?”

                   “Green,” she replied. “That’s the colour you like.”

                   “Actually…it’s not,” he admitted.

                   Molly scrunched her face in confusion. “Then why do you wear green so much?”

                   Tom ran a hand through his hair. “You said you really liked green on me when we were first dating.”

                    She tried so hard, but couldn’t control the laughter that came out. Tom joined in, knowing how ridiculous they’d been. Sharing a laugh helped lessen the tension, but he couldn’t deny she had a point. Like most things though, he let it roll off his shoulders, chalking it up to nerves or pressure. Maybe if he could make things easier on her. Wedding planning was a bit contrived. Perhaps she’d prefer spontaneity? The cogs were turning in his head, though it wasn’t long before they both drifted to sleep, facing away from one another.

.

.

A Little Over a Year Ago

                “Molly! You made it!” Meena shrieked in excitement. The pub was crowded, music from the house band thumping through the speakers around her. She dragged Molly over to the bar. “I’d like you to meet Tom! He’s a friend of my brother’s!”

                “Hi,” Tom greeted her somewhat awkwardly. He held out his hand to her and Molly shook it.

                “Hello,” she replied, forcing a smile, unable to ignore how he dressed similarly to a certain consulting detective. Some days were still difficult since Sherlock had gone. It had been nearly a year since he left. Molly knew he was alive, but she grieved him just the same. She felt his absence in everything she did, searching for him in the lab or expecting him to come sweeping in the morgue like he did before. Mike had caught her once in the lab, heaving sobs wracking her body.

                “It’ll be alright, Molly,” he had told her, silently asking permission to hug her. She nodded and let him comfort her. He knew how much Sherlock meant to her. “We all miss him.”

                Needless to say, it wasn’t difficult for her to convince everyone of her own grief. She prayed for his safety every single night. And, Meena, bless her soul, was trying to help Molly move on.

                “Would you mind if I bought you a drink?” Tom asked.

               Determined to enjoy herself, Molly replied, “Not at all. Thank you.”

               Meena’s brother joined them moments later, and the four of them traded stories from Uni, laughing at all the shit they got into. It was the first time Sherlock hadn’t lingered in her mind since his departure, and Molly felt lighter than she had in months. Tom was lovely, treated her kindly. They bonded over their love of BBC’s Miranda and Doctor Who. She learned that he liked to go to the pub on weekends to watch football with his mates.

��              Molly was hesitant to share anything about her. She certainly didn’t want to tell him she was still grieving the loss of her closest friend, though it would eventually come out later thanks to Meena. She listened to him talk about his family, growing up in Sheffield. When he asked about hers, all she could muster was, “There’s no one left. Just me.” The emptiness left inside her made itself known once more at the reminder that she really had next to no one left in her life. She had Meena, and of course that should be enough, but somehow it wasn’t.

               “Hey…you okay?” Tom asked, breaking her free from the depressing thoughts in her head.

                “Hmm? Sorry.” She laughed nervously. “I tend to get lost in my head sometimes—it’s been happening a lot more often lately.”

                “Nice to see you joining the land of the living,” Meena joked.    

                Molly rolled her eyes playfully. The rest of the night eased her troubled mind. They had gone and played darts, girls against guys. Only by two points, the girls had lost, but it was because of Tom’s insanely accurate throws. She felt flirty with the alcohol in her system, and decided to present a proposition to Tom. “Take one more shot, and if you hit the bullseye—“

                “And what?” he asked, teasing her, his eyes practically undressing her. “Do I get a snog out of this?”

                Meena’s brother whistled loudly.

               Feeling bold, she nodded. “You better not miss.” Surprising her, Tom took a moment to line up the shot and hit it right in the center. Meena and her brother cheered and started shouting in excitement when Molly pulled Tom in for a searing kiss. From that alone, she could feel the void that had been left in her life from Sherlock’s absence start to close up bit by bit. And it left her wanting more.

 Nine Months Ago

               It had been a bit of whirlwind. Molly had dated Tom for a month before they made it official. Now, two months in an actual relationship, she felt content. His gentle demeanor was exactly what she needed in her life at the moment, and she was thankful for it. They were to have dinner tonight over at his place. She was excited mostly to see his dog, Milo, who always looked put out every time he took a whiff of her, smelling her cat’s scent on her clothes.

               “Molly,” he smiled brightly when he opened his door to his flat. “Come on in. Milo’s missed you.” He shut the door behind her after she stepped inside, and kissed her lips firmly. “I’ve missed you too.”

               She laughed, feeling her face flush. “You know I’m only with you for your dog, right?” she joked, bending down to scratch beneath Milo’s chin. He sniffed her, letting out a disapproving growl. “You’ll have to just get used to it, Milo.”

               “I knew you were too good to be true,” Tom joked back from the kitchen. “Milo gets all the love.”

               They eventually sat down to eat the delicious dinner Tom had cooked up for them. There wasn’t a lot he was good at making, but Molly didn’t care much, for she wasn’t one for cooking, herself. “There was this tumor I found during my autopsy today; it was so small, but intricately woven throughout the tissue. So sad for the poor man, of course, but it was fascinating!”

               Tom blanched, fighting the urge to vomit. “Is that so?”

               “Oh! Sorry, I forget I can’t just talk about that stuff with anyone.” Molly wanted to slink beneath the table, embarrassed of her enthusiasm.

               He smiled weakly. “No worries, just maybe no autopsy talk tonight?”

               “Right, of course, sorry.” It was the fifth or sixth time she felt she had to apologise for her more…odd interests.

               They finished up dinner and settled on the sofa for a movie that, about halfway in, was ignored in favor of a little snogging. Molly tried to get herself to relax, matching his enthusiasm in an effort to clear her head.

               “I think I love you,” Tom had spoken against her lips.

               Molly paused, unsure at first, and then spoke slowly, “I think I do too.”

[nazyalenskyism]

The Love of My Life When... (Part 5)

Ao3: The Love of My Life When... Tumblr: The Love of My Life When... Summary: Part 5 of The Love of My Life When… a Zoyalai fic. | The call that neither of them wanted to make reminds them of their favourite moments together. And maybe, just maybe, they begin to realize what they want. A/N: Here’s part 5! It’s been a while since the last chapter, so thank you for keeping up with it! All your comments and feedback are amazing and I love reading them ❤️❤️

Audrey said she saw you out past twelve o'clock Just because you're hurting doesn't mean I'm not If it doesn't go away by the time I turn thirty I made a mistake and I'll tell you I'm sorry "Sorry"

        “Ugh,” Zoya groaned, peeling off her shiny silver heels, collapsing in her favourite armchair. It had been an exhausting night, they had been putting together some of the final details for Tamar and Nadia’s wedding, as it was in two weeks. Of course, that had only been the first half of the night, the second had involved going to the club. Zoya threw a blanket over herself, considering sleeping in the chair, that was how tired she was.

        Before she could nod off however, there was one last thing she had to do. Calling Nikolai after the disaster in the park, seemed like the worst idea she could fathom. She knew Genya was the one who’d orchestrated the whole thing. Setting her and Nikolai up to be partners for the whole wedding weekend. She would have to share her duties with him, walk down the aisle with him at the end of the wedding, be his partner for the ridiculous flashmob Tamar had planned as a surprise to Nadia and the even more ridiculous flashmob Nadia had planned as a surprise to Tamar. Because that totally wasn’t going to end in flames. She didn’t want to do this, but she had to. It wasn’t for her, it was for her friends, and she would do this, even if she would much rather do anything else in the world. At least the drinks at the bar had lowered her inhibitions to the point that she could do this without wanting to cry. That’s how she usually felt when Nikolai was mentioned these days.

        “Come on Koja,” she called, smiling softly at the grey cat who jumped into her lap, curling contentedly under Zoya’s loving stroke of her soft head. Koja had been yet another gift from Nikolai’s birthday week celebrations for her. Zoya let out a small laugh, remembering how excited he’d been to give her the cat, how infectious his joy was. He was amiable with everyone, but he never let anyone see his true goofiness but her. She missed a lot of things that she tried to pretend she didn’t, but most of all she missed him. Some days she missed him so much she felt like it was breaking her from the inside out. She knew she would be fine without him, but as each day passed, she had to wonder, ‘did she want to be without him?’

        No. Her decision was final. She was Zoya Nazyalensky and she would not change her mind, no matter what her traitorous heart said. She would not back away from her duties, especially not after Genya had spammed her with 21 texts and 12 calls all telling her to, “Nazyalensky up and just call Nikolai already.”

        “Well Koja, time to call Nikolai,” she murmured, feeling a pang in her chest as the cat’s ears perked up at the sound of her favourite person’s name. “I can do this.”

                                                   ***

        “Ugh,” Nikolai groaned, collapsing into the hammock in front of his bedroom’s window, overlooking the city and the edges of the bay. He usually slept in his bed, but on nights where he particularly missed the sea, he would sleep in the hammock, the gentle rocking and distant view of the water helping him fall asleep. A soft whine sounded from the floor and Nikolai saw his puppy, Sobachka pouting up at him, clearly wanting to sleep on top of his owner, as usual. He was lucky he was still a puppy, if he were any bigger he would’ve crushed Nikolai in his sleep or tumbled out of his hanging bed. He sighed, knowing he didn’t have it in him to reject the dog’s pleas tonight. He settled back into a comfortable position, Sobachka’s floppy gold ears resting beneath his chin. Nikolai wanted nothing more than to go to sleep after an exhausting day of gathering things for the wedding. Unfortunately, he had one more thing to take care of tonight. He opened his phone, gathering his courage to call before he saw a slew of notifications for his Instagram dms, all from someone named Audrey who he vaguely remembered going to uni with.

        ‘Nikolai! It’s Audrey.’

        ‘I think I saw Zoya at the club tonight’

        ‘She was wearing silver and black’

        ‘You guys aren’t still together, right?’

        ‘Anyways she was there with some guy? look at this pic, it was 1:30 am.’

        Attached to the last message was an image that Nikolai clicked and when he zoomed in, he saw that it was taken at a club, Zoya wearing a slinky silver dress, her hand on the shoulder of a tall guy in a suit, trailing him out of the club. He let out a sigh. He hadn’t thought Zoya would move on from them so quickly, but regardless of that, he knew he ought to be happy that she was happy. No matter what, he wanted that for her. Although… as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t. He wasn’t jealous, there was nothing to be jealous about, she wasn’t his and he wasn’t hers, but he just wanted… he wanted what he could never have. And he was a fool for that.

        Sobachka barked at the ringing of the phone, and Nikolai frowned, had she read his mind? “Hi.”

        “Lantsov, Genya says we need to go over our duties for the wedding.”

        “And you want to do that now? At almost 3 AM? How did you even know if I would be awake?”

        “Oh please, you and David were helping Nadia with something sciencey tonight, and you never sleep well, not without—” she stopped mid sentence, realizing that this time she was the one who’d let something slip.

        He had trouble sleeping, he always had, and for some reason, he’d found that if he played piano before bed, it almost always helped him sleep. He had his own piano room at his place, but Zoya had bought him a keyboard for when he stayed at her’s.

        “How do you know I haven’t played tonight?” he asked, attempting to gloss over the awkward pause.

        “Please, Nadia texted me when she dropped you both off home, and if you played the piano at 3 AM your stupid neighbour would’ve called ME complaining and telling you to shut up.”

        “That’s fair,” he sighed. “So… what were you up to before this? Out at the club?” Oh, he hadn’t meant to blurt that out. Maybe his lack of sleep was affecting him.

        “Tamar actually— wait how did you know that?”

        He hesitated, “I saw you walking out of the club with some guy in a suit.”

        “Some guy?”

        “Some guy,” he confirmed.

        “You IDIOT that was TOLYA.”

        Nikolai let out a dry laugh, “and that’s what I get for paying attention to Audrey.”

        “Audrey? I think she tried to get me to join her pyramid scheme… she only stopped when I pretended to be a part of another one and tried to recruit her.”

        “Intriguing! And what were the results?”

        “She blocked me on all social media, tried to convince Genya that I was going to steal David and that I stole Adrik from her.”

        “Huh.”

        “Yeah.”

        “So about the rehearsal dinner—”

        “Lantsov,” he heard her take in a deep breath, “I know this might be hard for you… but don’t you think it was hard for me too?”

        “You cut things off so easily, I didn't think that it was,” he said slowly. He didn’t know what had brought on Zoya’s forthcoming mood but he wasn’t about to ruin it.

        “It’s not easy for me! Seeing you out with other people… I’m hurting too,” she finished sharply, and Nikolai felt his throat tighten, his careful attitude flying out the window.

        “What if this was a mistake? What if the reason you’re unhappy is because this isn’t what you wanted?”

        After a long pause, Zoya spoke up again, “No. It was the right thing to do. I’m not changing my mind. If, by the time I’m 30, I somehow regret it, I’ll tell you I’m sorry. But it won’t matter then, Nikolai, because you’ll be married and happy and living the life you were supposed to have before you met me.”                               He didn’t have anything to say to that.

        Zoya waited for Nikolai to say something, and was surprised when all he said was, “okay, Zoya. So for the rehearsal dinner, I was thinking I could set up my stuff at 5, and you can start at 6, since I’m driving up first. That leaves us enough time to double check everything before the dinner. Then for the ceremony, you’re walking in with Nadia, we just have to practice walking out, and how we’re setting up the reception. Genya said she’s going to email all that to us in the morning.”

        “That sounds good,” she said.

        “Good. Well, I guess that’s it then. I should—”

        “Wait. Nikolai…” she didn’t know what to say… she just wanted to say something to him, something to let him know how she felt, but she couldn’t find the right words.

        “I know, Zoya,” and she could imagine him smiling softly, despite how she continued to step on his heart. “I know. Goodnight.”

        “Goodnight,” she echoed faintly, waiting until the line clicked on his end to bring the phone back to her face and whisper, “sorry,” a quiet sob shaking her body.

                                                   ***

        Nikolai pulled a hand through his hair, even more confused than before. Everything Zoya said was what he expected her to say— but her behaviour confused him, and if he didn’t know any better he would think that she didn’t want to still be broken up. But if there was anything he could rely on, it was that she was Zoya Nazyalensky, and she wouldn’t change her mind. Still, that didn’t stop him from remembering what it had been like before all this.

        The way she used to put her head on his chest as the hammock rocked. How he used to tell her stories about the sea and the year he’d spent on a boat with Tolya and Tamar before he’d met her. She always wanted to know more about the lives he’d lived, and in return for his stories, she would whisper secrets in his ear, not even trusting the wind as much as she trusted him. Some nights, curled in the hammock, Zoya would point out the constellations, teaching him what her aunt had taught her, while other nights, she would clear out the furniture in her living room and demand, with her hands on her hips, that Nikolai teach her how to dance--she refused to let him excel in something she knew she could best him in. And so he’d taught her. And in return, she’d taught him how to ice skate, the one thing he had never tried, holding his hands the entire time, regardless of how much she’d teased him. He had been terrible, utterly terrible, but as he’d watched Zoya skate perfectly backwards, all while helping him, he had realized that he would never find this again. This was it for him. She was it for him.

        His hopeless heart had only gotten ensnared worse when he’d made her a traditional dish he’d learned about in Russia, the only thing he knew how to cook well, and she had looked at him with so much ferocity, wanting to know how to cook it for herself. She was a worse cook than him, and had never quite managed it, despite his teachings. So she would call him whenever she was stressed and wanted her comfort food, although she never said that, he could always tell. She’d come to rely on him, trust him, in the same way he had relied on her, trusted her. He’d given her his heart-- but in the end he had been mistaken. His heart was closely guarded and despite Zoya’s warnings not to, he’d given himself to her completely. The pain he felt now was his own fault, and he didn’t know if it would ever truly go away.

                                                       ***

        Zoya couldn’t sleep either, and no piano melody would help bring her closer to it either. On the nights she could sleep, she found herself in the same situation, she dreamed of him, and only him. The press of his fingers against her arms when he steadied her after she’d drank too much. Warm kisses to her head when she was sick and couldn’t leave the bed, or protest his soft actions. His calloused fingers brushing back her hair in the moments after she shared her frustrations. The distance he stumbled back— as if he’d been struck in the chest when she had said she couldn’t do it anymore. The distance from his apartment, where she’d stayed each night to her own, cold and alone on the other side of town. The hurt in his eyes when she’d twisted the knife further, saying that she would have never been able to care for him— love him in the way he did for her. The pain that passed over his otherwise neutral features when he’d realized that she was yet another person who he’d let himself love, only for his love to never be reciprocated. The boy he’d shown her, who collected scars he didn’t deserve, retreated back into a man who had a collection of scars whose stories she would spend a lifetime forgetting. Whose hands she would spend a lifetime trying to forget. Whose love she would spend forever mourning. For all that she’d said to Nikolai to make him forget her, she was beginning to realize that if Nikolai would have her back, she would gladly go.

        “Sorry,” she repeated softly, even though he couldn’t hear her, she vowed that she would make things right, even if he didn’t want her again, she knew she owed him that much. She was Zoya Nazyalensky and she wanted to change her mind, to listen to what her traitorous heart said, but only if that’s what he wanted too.

[marvels-writings]

As Long As You Need (8)

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 |

Series Masterlist

Carol Danvers (Captain Marvel Masterlist)

A/N: Honestly I have no idea why I wrote this, just felt like it, also this chapter is for @livrnll​, the song is ‘Without You’ by Oh Wonder

“I’ll only be gone for a week or so.” Carol murmured, you whined and leaned back into the couch with crossed arms. 

This wasn’t the first time in your relationship Carol had to leave for more than a few days, but it wasn’t easy every time she left. You’d been together for almost two years now and you still weren’t used to the long missions. 

“A week? That’s a little too long I have to spend without my Stargirl.” You whined, Carol chuckled and sat next to you.

The blonde wore her battle suit, underneath it she had a small necklace which you had given her after Tony had made sure the metal won’t melt when she used her powers. 

“Come on, you’ll be fine, tell you what, when I come back we can do something together, maybe even with the rest of our family.” She suggested you sighed and nodded.

“You’re getting too good at bribing me.” You muttered, she laughed and got up to say her goodbyes to Brooke.

You still sat on the couch, smiling softly to yourself when you heard Brooke squeal in laughter when Carol tickled her and whined when she said she needed to go. The blonde came outside with a suppressed grin on her face, Brooke clinging on tightly to her leg.

“No, you can’t go, Auntie Carol,” She whined, your eyes widened when you recognized she called Carol her aunt. 

Carol looked down at your niece in shock, you turned to face her, surprise on both of your faces.

“Did I say something wrong?” Your niece asked softly, scared as she hid behind Carol’s leg.

“Of course not,” Carol assured, lifting her and setting her down on her hip.

“Do you think of me as your aunt?” The blonde asked Brooke nodded eagerly. 

“When you marry y/n you would be my aunt, right?” She asked, you almost choked on your spit as you saw Carol’s face turn a light pink.

“Ye-yeah,” She stuttered, grinning at the small child in her arms and whispering something in her ear.

“I’ll marry her when I get back,” She whispered, making sure you didn’t hear,  before setting her down on the ground, letting her run over to you and snuggle into your side.

“I’ll just say goodbye to Carol, you stay right here.” You tickled her a little, treasuring her small giggles before you made your way outside where Carol was waiting.

“She didn’t know what she was saying,” You muttered, trying to make sure Carol didn’t get scared of commitment.

“I think she had a good idea,” Carol smirked, winking at you while she looked up at the stars.

“What did you say to her?” You asked curiously, she shrugged and turned to face you with a grin.

“That is between me and your niece.” She smirked and slid her arm around your waist, pulling you closer to her.

You sighed and leaned into her touch, treasuring the feeling of being with her as long as you could. Both of you knew she had to leave, but you were making the best of it. Carol sighed when her phone buzzed and you knew your time together was over.

“I’ll try to come back to you as soon as I can.” She assured, the blonde turned around to face you and slid both arms around your waist.

“I hope so Danvers.” You smiled weakly. 

Carol leaned in and kissed you softly, your arms went to wrap around her neck by instinct. Your lips moved over hers familiarly, you sighed softly into the kiss, wishing it would last forever before Carol pulled away. She smiled softly at you and pulled you in for a tight hug, she kissed the top of your head before letting go.

“Go before I change my mind.” You laughed when Carol smiled apologetically at you.

She laughed and ran a bit further from you before flying off, you smiled as you saw her fly off. You kept looking at her until she was just another star in the light speckle sky. After she was gone, you sighed and went inside to Brooke, she watched TV while snuggled up in a princess blanket Carol had bought her while shopping.

The next few days went slower than you could ever imagine. Brooke seemed to get bored easily and was generally harder to entertain. You felt like you were going insane.

The alarm clock started blaring, you reminded yourself that it was only a few more days till you wouldn’t have to wake up in a cold bed anymore. You groggily got out of bed, remembering you'd dropped Brooke off at her grandparent's house for a day, they were taking her to school and would be bringing her back in the evening. 

After eating cereal, you got ready and played some music while you made your way to work. You smiled to yourself at the song that played, the soft beats creating a relaxed atmosphere. 

‘Step out into the sun

Skies above they radiate me

Lift, carry the love, do you know?’

You leaned back into your car seat, making the best of your commute to work as you let the music wash over you.

‘That I’ve been out of my mind

This slow life I’m waiting for you

To swing me all of your light

Do you know?’

Eventually, you started singing the song to yourself. You’d never thought that the lovesick lyrics would ever apply to you so accurately. You paused the song as you pulled into your parking spot at work, sighing as you made your way inside, the lyrics still stuck in your head as you worked. 

‘Since I've been walking solo

Dreaming you were back home

I find getting down low

Hide until tomorrow’

Work was somehow the fastest part of your day, it kept you busy so you had no time to miss Carol. Once you got off of work, you checked your phone to see that they had dropped Brooke off at your house and there was a surprise waiting for you. 

You frowned at the mysterious text and practically sprinted to your car to make your way back home. One you got there, you pressed your ear to the door, you heard laughing and voices, familiar voices. You put your keys in the keyhole and opened the door, turning around to find your niece, Carol, and your parents setting out the table for you.

“Hey, babe.” Carol winked at you, she wore light blue ripped jeans and a navy blue blouse. 

You grinned and pounced on her, pulling her into a tight hug which she returned instantly. You heard your parents mutter something sarcastic as they continued helping Brooke set the table. 

“You’re back early,” You said excitedly, Carol nodded and grinned at you, pecking your lips before pulling out her phone.

You opened your mouth to ask what was going on, it wasn’t often that Carol invited your parents over for a surprise visit. A knock interrupted you, Carol went excitedly to open the door. Maria Rambeau stood on the other side holding a Tupperware of Lasagna and a bottle of wine, Monica standing next to her. 

“Hi,” You greeted, smiling at her. Maria smiled back at you and whispered that she got the ring to Carol, both of them laughed as Maria walked inside. Carol glanced at you to make sure you didn’t hear, your confused expression erased her suspicions.

“Care to explain what’s happening?” You whispered to Carol, she winked at you and led you towards your shared room as both of your families chatted.

“It’s a surprise.” She said, walking over to your shared closet and handing you a change of clothes, you tilted your head to the side.

“Surprise? You somehow managed to get my parents and my niece to co-operate in this?” You asked with a raised eyebrow as you made your way over to the bathroom.

“I can be persuasive when I want to.” the blonde grinned at you. 

You rolled your eyes playfully and changed in the bathroom. Carol had given you a loose, white short-sleeved top with a keyhole and white ripped jeggings. Everyone in your kitchen was dressed casually, you couldn’t help but wonder why all of them were here.

Dinner went fairly well, your parents had met Maria many times before, but this time there was more playful banter and everyone seemed to be keeping a secret from you. Even Brooke wouldn’t tell you no matter how much you asked. 

After dinner, Carol took care of the dishes while you talked to Maria and your parents. Brooke was snuggled into your lap, she giggled when Carol came out of the kitchen with a small box in her hands. You leaned your head back on the couch and watched her walk over to you as she fidgeted with a small navy blue box.

“Are you finally ready to tell me what this surprise is?” You asked, surprised when everyone around you either giggled or barely suppressed this laughter.

“Actually, yes,” Carol smirked, still fidgeting with the box in her hands. 

“You seriously haven’t figured it out yet?” Maria inquired, you frowned and shrugged. Carol shot her a death glare and sat next to you.

“So, I’ve been thinking, your family and mine seem to get along fairly well.” Carol began, you nodded and laid one hand on her thigh to ease her fidgeting. She smiled nervously at you and sighed. 

“Y/n y/l/n, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” She asked, your eyes widened instantly when you saw her open the box and kneel in front of you.

The ring was gorgeous, it was a rose gold solitaire with diamonds studded on both sides. 

All the puzzle pieces clicked into place, the reason why she wanted both of your families in the same place, why she had come back early, all of the secrets, everything finally clicked into place. You grinned and put one hand in front of you. 

“Yes,” You breathed, grinning from ear to ear.

All of the nervousness instantly faded, Carol released a sigh of relief and grinned while putting the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly, you admired the ring on your finger. Brooke climbed into your lap and revealed a small ring on her ring finger.

You lifted her hand to eye level. Looking at the ring, it was a thin rose gold band with small diamonds studded on it, Brooke slid it off to show you the engraving on the inside, trying to tug your ring off too.

“I asked Brooke before to make sure it was okay,” Carol explained. You looked at her with watery eyes, shocked that someone could love you so much to ask your niece for permission to marry you.

You took yours off and held it next to your niece's hand. Both the rings had an engraving on the inside, it said ‘You shine brighter than any star in the sky.’. Your heart melted at the engraving, you hugged Brooke close before slipping both your rings on and hugging Carol, ignoring everyone around you cheering and smiling. 

“I love you,” You whispered, Carol, grinned and blushed. No matter how many times you said those words, they still made her heart skip a beat. 

“I love you too my star.” She whispered, you smiled into her neck and inhaled her scent. You couldn’t be happier in the arms of your fiance, surrounded by the people you loved most. 

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver​, @versdan​, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught​, @lovebotlarson​, @dhengkt​, @5aftermidnight​, @hstoria​, @natasha-danvers​, @veryfunnyal​, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ , @ophelias-heart​  , @never-didbefore​ , @justarandomhumanhere​, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn​ , @lesbian-x-blackwidow​ , @marvelbbyx​ , @wlw-imaginesss​ , @hcartbyheart​​ , @summergeezburr​​ let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

A/N: This was too fluffy, what do you think?