#all this because she couldn’t just say ‘hey can you print another stack of these’

[crowcryptid]

Got so mad at work that my body is now trying to kill me almost 2 days later

Slightly delayed reaction buddy

Anyway you know it’s a healthy work environment when a less than 5 minute interaction with someone causes you to break out in hives 👍 also you’re stuck in a room with them 👍 also every job you apply to is probably fake so you’re stuck here 👍 don’t forget you’re stuck here

I wish I could grab people and transfer all my physical and mental issues to them as long as we remain in contact. Putting you in the time out corner.

[bunkerbucky]

Casual Sabotage *Bucky Barnes x Reader*

Reader is hit with sex pollen. Except she doesn't crave her boyfriend, Steve Rogers. No, it's his best friend, Bucky Barnes, that she wants inside of her. Bucky, in the beginning, is a good bro and refuses. But due to the fact she sucks his dick so good he kinda, sorta, loses that restraint and just fucks her regardless of who she belongs to.

Rating: Explicit [+18]

Warnings: Sex pollen= Dub-Con, Rough Sex, Rough blow-job, rough oral-sex, vaginal sex, praise kink, breeding kink, size kink- Bucky has a big dick in this lmao, choking and biting kink, infidelity; Reader cheats on Steve. 

TW: Dub-con- Reader is under sex pollen, so she actually cannot give consent and also because Bucky is so resistant in the beginning. It turns consensual on Bucky's part, he gives in to the temptation. But, obviously, reader is still influenced so... the lines are blurred.

Yourself and Bucky had searched the Hydra base from tippy-top to bottom. There was nothing out of the ordinary, which infuriated you a little. With the amount of recon work you both had to do, the long nights of watching the agents coming and going, you felt like you both deserved a small win, at least.

A long sigh escaped from your lips as Bucky's fingers typed furiously on the computers keyboard, a USB stick in hand just in case he found something exciting. Your arms were crossed over your chest, eyes scanning around the bases' security room, roaming the shelves and cabinets that held nothing of importance. A week of nothing, you wanted to cry.

"Hmm," Bucky low hum attracted your attention, "It says there's a basement to this building, we haven't checked that out." His steel eyes look over the screen and at you, you respond with a shrug of your shoulders. "We've got two hours before the cavalry arrives to pick us up, let's explore and see if we can obtain something to keep from Rogers from complainin'"

You giggle slightly at Bucky's comment, nodding in agreement with him. Steve would have a lot to say if you went back empty-handed, especially since he sent you both rather than himself. But you couldn't lie and say the thought of seeing Steve after so long didn't excite you. You had missed your boyfriend dearly, you weren't allowed on missions together since finally making things official. Work ethics and all that jazz.

Instead, you and Bucky had started to partner up, Steve didn't trust anyone but himself, and Bucky, to keep an eye out for you. Who better to watch over his best girl than his best friend, plus Bucky was your friend before you got with Steve.

"What if we go down there and there's a great, big monster waiting for us?" Sliding into the small elevator beside Barnes.

Bucky looked down at you with a raised eyebrow, "Then I'll be throwing you out as a distraction, so I can press the elevator door button to leave."

You both ended up laughing at his response, although when the doors finally did open and reveal a darkened basement layer... there was a moment of silence, you both side-eyeing one another at the lack of sound and movement.

Bucky stepped off first and the automatic lighting triggered him to pull his gun from its holster, his reflexes sharp and fast. You step off and follow Bucky down the hall towards double doors, the room through those doors was abandoned and huge. Desks with old computers, all smashed and out of use. Stacks of files and paper scattered on desks and the floor. Despite the mess, it all looks really promising, there had to be something amongst the chaos.

You both separate to cover more ground, you only had a limited time before you had to leave. You looked through paper and files, shuffling through stacks of meaningless bullshit. Hydra certainly kept a record of everything, including all the worthless crap. You wondered if they actually printed this stuff to lead you guys on wild goose chases like this, to make sure you were distracted with searching for something important amongst all their bullshit.

You ended up in the far back of the room, a small desk area had random empty vials littered across it. Files labelled in Russian, that you couldn't translate very well.

"Hey, Buck," You called over your shoulder as you lifted an empty vial, a cork tightly shoved in the top; curious. "Think I might've found something."

The vial itself was black, not black liquid, the vial was just black. It didn't feel weighted, it didn't feel like anything was moving inside of it. So, curiosity got the best of you because you yanked the cork off the vial. Black smoke puffed out and into your face causing you to inhale and go into a coughing fit. Waving your arms in front of your face, coughing at the inhalation of whatever was inside that vial.

It smelt like... old leather, peppermint toothpaste and...something else, like a deep musk. Odd.

"Hey, are you okay?" Bucky suddenly appeared at your side, a hand placed on your back and eyeing you with concern. He then grabbed the vial from your hand, it was clear and no longer black. "What happened?"

Your coughing had subsided, you felt fine. "I think there was some kind of smoke or whatever in there, I don't know. The black stuff just burst out, I was stupid-"

"Damn, right." Bucky looked mad, which was a given. "Hydra is known for making gas poisons, Y/N. That was a rookie move, never open strange vials." He didn't sound too mad at you, a little more concerned and worried.

You nodded, frowning when feeling the back of your neck sweating. You felt... hot. A sweat was taking over your body, your mouth was getting dry and your mind was going fuzzy. Bucky hadn't noticed, his eyes cast down to the Russian files on the desk, his hand flipping through the old pages and taking the information in with wide eyes. You briefly wondered if whatever is written in that file had anything to do with that vial.

"Fuck," Bucky muttered.

"What?" Your throat was scratchy, your breathing was becoming laboured and your palms were sweaty.

You didn't feel hot, though. You didn't feel sick either.

"Well, I'm guessing whatever was in that vial was... to put it plainly, sex pollen. It makes the patient unable to think of anything but sex, all they want and all they feel is lust. It's basically either used to breed or on prisoners- the pain of not getting off thoroughly enough can lead to the patient taking extreme measures: death." He shakes his head, you don't notice the horrified look In his eyes at the thought of maybe it being used on him when under Hydra's control. "You're likely fine, though."

"I wouldn't be so sure," You managed to gasp out, your thighs squeezing together and eyes closed, you wanted to feel embarrassed but you couldn't. "My head is spinning and, fuck, I need to get this off. I feel too hot, I'm burnin' up." Clawing at the collar of your own tact suit, your hands were shaking and you couldn't bring yourself to look at Bucky.

You wanted to look at him though. You knew he was standing close to you because you could smell him, he smelt like the black smoke did. He smelt delicious, intoxicating in the best way. God, you wanted him so badly. You needed him.

"It's going to be okay, Y/N. I promise, we'll get you back to Steve and he can-"

You shook your head and finally pulled the zipper down of your jacket, shrugging the bulletproof material off your shoulders.

"Need you." You managed to mumble out, lifting your gaze to Bucky, who was frowning and shaking his head. "Please, Buck. I need you! I can feel my skin crawling and-I'm in so much pain, please." Your voice a mix between a whine and beg.

"I can't- you're not thinking properly. Steve will be here soon and he can help you, he's your boyfriend, remember?"

You pulled the black, tight sleeved henley from your body and let it drop to the floor, it covered in sweat. You're standing in a sports bra and tact pants, chest heaving as you try to intake gulps of oxygen from your panting. Even with half your clothes off you still felt sweat bead and drip down your skin.

"I can't wait that long," You sniffled but no tears forming. "Please, I want you-I've always wanted you. You read the file, I'm going to die!"

Bucky continued to shake his head. "I won't do that Steve. It says that it took a couple of hours till that point, Steve'll be here soon and I'll explain to him what happened."

You groaned painfully, shaking your own head now. Not understanding why he couldn't just help you now. You were in immense pain and the throbbing heat in your core wasn't letting up.

You didn't want Steve to help you. You didn't need Steve to help you, it wasn't just because he wasn't here. You wanted Bucky. The smell of him, the heat radiating off his body when it was close to yours. You craved for him to touch you, to fuck you. You were sure the moment he touched you that the pain would ease, the flames that were consuming you would simmer down.

And you were certain that he wanted you too.

Taking the initiative you moved closer to Bucky, the short hairs on the back of your neck were drenched in sweat, you could feel it drip down your back. You placed a hand softly on his metal arm, the cool vibranium instantly cooling you down. Bucky let out a shaky breath and looked at you, eyebrows furrowing together as he took in your features. You were sure you could see the fight in his eyes, he wanted to help you. To touch you.

It was frustrating that he wasn't giving in. That he wasn't falling to his desires.

"I won't tell Steve, I promise." You whispered and pressed a kiss to his collar, inhaling his scent and shuddering when it filled your senses. He wasn't pushing you away, but he also wasn't giving in to touching you back. "It can be our little secret. I know you'll make me feel really good, he won't be able to help me like you can."

Her other hand trailed down his chest and stopped at his belt, Bucky was too busy telling her everything he had already been saying. Telling you how you love Steve and Steve loves you. It would break Steve's heart if he found out about this talk from you if he knew what you were saying to Buck. You didn't care, not right now anyway. You had always found Bucky attractive and before getting with Steve you had entertained the thought of Bucky, but he was just getting back his life. A relationship seemed too much for him, well that's what you thought.

You didn't settle for Steve, that was never the case. You love Steve, you know that. But, right now, here with Bucky, you knew that he'd be able to help you with this- more than Steve could. Steve was a peaceful lover, an attentive one. You needed this illness fucked out of you- at least, that's what your hazy brain was telling you.

Your hand slipped under his belt, a wide grin taking over your face at Bucky's shock, words choking out as you wrapped a hand around his dick. A sense of pride coming over you as he began to get hard in your hand, a few quick jerks as started to undo his pants with your free hand. Bucky was stunned into silence and compliance, unable to stop you just from the fact he hadn't been touched like this in a while.

He came to his senses when you noticed you get to your knees, his pants undone and pulled down his muscular thighs. Bucky slapped your hands away and tries to pull his pants back up, but you were putting up quite the fight. You roughly pushed him back, he ended up falling to the ground due to his pants restricting his movements. In the moments he fell down and was trying to figure out what happened, you had pulled down his boxers and gulped dryly at his semi-hard length.

"You're so big," You mumbled before wrapping your lips around the tip, a loud groan echoed through the room from Bucky.

You could feel him growing inside of your mouth as you tried to take more of him down, slobbering up his dick and licking around the shaft. Pulling off to run your tongue around the veins and down to his balls, gently suckling them into your mouth as you jerked his length till it was fully standing erect. You smirked to yourself at all of the noises Bucky was making, a hand being placed on your hair- which normally you hated Steve's hand in your hair, but you'd allow Bucky this time.

"Fuck my throat," spit was around your mouth and down your chin, "fuck my throat with your big cock."

Bucky's eyes were wide and lust-filled, there was still a hesitancy from him. A dilemma going on in that head of his, so you wrapped your lips around his cock again and started to slowly take him down. He was bigger than Steve, so much bigger, but that only spurred you on. You wanted him to roughly fuck your throat, you wanted to feel him at the back of your throat even after this.

You felt both his hands on your head... he started to push your head further down, the tip hit the back of your throat and you still hadn't taken all of him. He started to ease past your limitations, your eyes filled with tears as he stuffed your mouth impossibly full. Your lips stretched wide around his girth, he could feel your throat constrict around him and the slight gag you couldn't help because of how far he was down your throat.

"Fuck, so good." Bucky groaned lowly, eyes completely black and bottom lip trapped between his teeth. You knew your panties were soaking, a slickness collecting on your thighs as you rubbed them together, the flimsy material of your underwear was sticking to you and making you rub yourself just to alleviate the friction. "I'll deal with your pussy in second, right now I'm going to fill this hole up."

It was like Bucky snapped, the trepidation he was feeling before was long gone. It was now replaced with this new Bucky, and you loved him.

He wasn't merciful when he started to thrust in and out of your mouth, his balls were slapping against your chin harshly. The grip in your hair was harsh as he pushed and pulled your head to meet his hard thrusts, your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as he basically skull fucked you. Loud gagging sounds, your throat squeezing his cock as you fought for air, he only eased up when you looked like you were going to pass out. It was seconded worth of air before he repeated his onslaught, spit and cum was dribbling down your chin and onto your chest and sportsbra. Bucky kept his eyes on you, it made you shiver how he was looking at you.

Bucky didn't warn you when he was about to cum, instead, he held your head down, almost shoving his entire cock down your throat as loads of his cum spurted out and shot straight down your throat into your tummy. You hardly tasted his cum because of how far he was down your throat. He groaned as he came, swallowing thrusting his hips into your mouth as he milked his orgasm. He pulled you off his cock, it was still hard, thankfully.

He helped pull you to your feet then undressed you, roughly pulling the sports bra off your chest and yanking your pants down your legs. He ripped your panties to shreds and let the tattered pieces fall to the floor, his hungry gaze took in your shaking, naked form. Your thighs were glistening from your arousal and it was still leaking from your pussy, hardly any attention to it made you needy and wishing to be stuffed full.

"Turn around." The authority in his voice made you shiver.

You turned around and felt Bucky place a hand on your shoulder, bending you over the desk where you found the vial. The pieces of paper clinging to your sweaty skin and making you keen into his touch more. He kicked your feet further apart, a hand tickling the insides of your thighs and collecting your sweet juices. Expecting to feel fingers prodding around your entrance, instead, you felt a firm tongue lick from clit to fluttering hole, it dipping inside and collecting the juices wanting to leak out of you.

Your mouth fell open into a silent scream, his tongue was exploring so far into your pussy, his hands gripped your cheeks apart so he could push further inside of you. Tongue fucking you so roughly and expertly, your eyes almost went crossed out from the feeling. You didn't know you could be tongue fucked this good, but Bucky just lived to prove you wrong. The slurping sounds and moans from the man behind you, he lifted and bent your knee to rest on the table; opening you up further for his trained tongue.

"You're gonna have to let me have a taste of this everyday from now on, baby." Bucky groaned against your pussy, mouth closing around your clit as he sucked harshly, your mouths drowning out his own. "Taste so good," the tip of his tongue running figure eights on your engorged clit.

Bucky must've stayed between your legs for minutes, but it felt like hours. He pulled two back-to-back orgasms from you, only using his tongue. When he was done eating your pussy, he stood up and draped himself over your back, an arm wrapping around your neck as he breathed heavily into your ear. You could feel his cock nudge up against your pussy, sliding and coating himself in your juices.

"You ready for me?" You whined your response, trying to push yourself back against him but his arm tightened around your throat- not restricting your airflow. "Think your little pussy can take my dick, dolly?" You nodded in a rush, needing it inside of you otherwise you was going to die. "I've got you," The tip nudges against your entrance and began to push inside, the stretch was painful but welcoming. "Daddy's got you."

Your pussy fluttered around his length, the more he pushed his thick length in the more you moaned. He wasn't even half-way in when you started to babble about how he was too big for you, how he wouldn't fit inside of you. That only made Bucky want to prove you wrong, want to prove that you were made to take him. He started to thrust shallowly, rocking his length in and out of you, impaling you on him more whenever he pushed forward.

Once he was fully sheathed inside of you, he stopped and remained inside of your tight, heat for a moment. Relishing in the way you were split open around his cock, your walls were spasming around him and he was having a hard time not cumming on the spot. You felt so tight, so warm and wet around him, suddenly envious that Steve got to have you all the time. But he was planning on ruining you, to make sure the next time you fucked Steve it wouldn't feel as good.

He was going to fuck you so hard, so deep that you'd be wishing Steve was this big.

"Hang on, baby." That was the only warning you got.

Bucky started to pummel inside of you, his thrusts were hard and fast, his cock was kissing your cervix. You really could only just lay there and take it, your mouth open as moans were ripped from you, eyes rolling back as he kept impaling his girth inside of you. He was hitting spots so deep you knew you'd be feeling him for days afterwards, you'd be walking with limp and sore, it was worth it.

The way he was fucking you, it was as if he had something to prove.

The sound of skin slapping skin, his grunts and groans right beside your ear. His arm around your neck, clenching and cutting your airflow off at times, had you cumming within seconds and he still didn't let up. He didn't stop and fucked you through your third orgasm.

Your mind was starting to come down from the pollen, the pain and fever you were feeling had gone. Replaced now with pleasure and pain, a mix you didn't think you were into but now couldn't get enough of. All you could think and feel was Bucky Barnes. This was no longer the effects of the pollen anymore, this was pure you and riding on the afterglow of Bucky fucking you like you needed.

"Harder." You mumbled through heavy pants, tilting your head to look at him over your shoulder.

A smirk crossed his features, metal arm holding your hip in a bruising grip. Complying with your order and snapping his hips hard into your heat, grinding his hips against yours before pulling back out and repeating. It causes your back to arch, pressing your pussy back against his thrusts with little mewls leaving your lips.

"Kiss me." You plead breathlessly.

Bucky doesn't falter with that demand either. Draping himself over your body again and pressing his plump lips against yours, the kiss is far more gentle than his thrusts, but it still has you moaning against him. He was kissing you like you was fragile, yet fucking you like you were some kind of sex toy that he was using just to jerk off into. It was making your head spin and your pussy needy for more.

"You gonna come again?" Bucky chuckled against your ear, you nodded sharply and cried in pleasure when he bit your shoulder, cumming on the spot when his teeth dug into your flesh. "Mm'good girl." He mumbled as he licked at the tender spot, you could feel his hips stuttering their pace.

"Cum in me." You grinned and he cursed lowly, eyes squeezing shut. "Want you to fill me up, daddy. Fuckin' fuck a baby into me, fill me up."

The arm around your neck was pulled away, hand splaying across your back as he started to thrust into you in tight, fast and hard thrusts. Using your body to seek his own pleasure now, you were biting your lip at the thought of him filling you up. Not even caring if he actually did knock you up, you needed his cum inside of you.

Bucky found his end after a few careful thrusts, warm ropes of his seed filling you up and then some, he filled you up so much that it started to seep out around his cock. He groaned at the mess he made inside of you, he carefully pulled out of your abused cunt to see your hole clenching, trying to keep his creamy load inside of yourself. He had to look away because if he kept staring he'd get hard again, he didn't think you could take another round or load.

You remained bent over the desk and trying to catch your breath, his human hand was rubbing comforting circles on your back. Before you or Bucky could say something a buzzing sound captured both of your attention, it was coming from Bucky's pant pocket. He left you to retrieve his phone, eyes scanning over the device for a moment before he looked at you.

"Steve is waiting at the extraction point for us," You nodded mutely and you both got dressed in mutual silence.

He helped you to look presentable, ignoring the fingerprint bruise on your hip and the obvious bite mark on your shoulder. You were unsure how to explain any of that to Steve, you were also unsure how to explain what happened to Bucky. Obviously, you had still had those feelings for him, right? Otherwise, you would have been able to wait for Steve, it was like all sense of self-control had left you and only Bucky remained in your mind.

As you both left the base in awkward silence, treking the five miles towards the extraction zone, you wondered if you would have craved for Bucky if you was with Steve. If after all this time it was Bucky and not Steve you wanted.

All you knew was that Bucky had ruined you. You could still feel the impression of him inside of you, the way he had so deliciously stretched you open and impaled you on him. The way he had roughly fucked your throat like it was nothing but a hole to get off into. He had fucked you, in more ways than one.

(Please, let me know what you think! I’m also taking requests too! Honestly, kinda wanna write a part 2 where Reader tries to have sex with Steve but fakes her orgasm just to go to Bucky... I’m a bad person, I just think Bucky would be better than Steve tbh lol~ Lilith)

[agapaic]

[19 days] whiplash [ch. 365 after-shot]

The shop will be closing soon. He’s seen an attendant wandering around, who will probably ask him to leave in the next five minutes. There’s no one else here. His clothes are vivid against the neon glow of the tanks. The fish cast strange shadows on his shirt, living out a second life on his skin.

They swim in half-circles before sharply changing direction, never touching the glass. He wonders if they know it’s there, as if they can sense some immovable wall that holds them back.

He’s not getting deep about this. He could contemplate, quite extensively, about how their freedom must be bought by some higher power, and they would really only go from one tank to the next, slightly bigger, slightly richer. It’s all fake shit, and he remembers that in some ways he’s got it better than an animal. He can, at least, run away. Maybe he won’t get far. Just to the edges of the city villages where he’ll get a job earning less than before and lose his place in school.

Guan Shan puts a finger on the glass in front of him. There’s a label in the corner, peeling away from the glass. Veiltail goldfish. They have wispy, membrane-like tails. He could put his hand on the other side and see all the way through. Guan Shan watches the only black fish in the tank move placidly through the water.

Beneath the label, a smaller one: Black moor. For a minute he considers tugging the label off and putting it in his pocket, a little secret. He remembers that would be stealing, in some way, and someone in the shop would have to go to the effort of printing and laminating and reapplying the label just for one fish.

Guan Shan turns away.

He wanders for a few more minutes. He’s aware of his reflection in the glass. He worries about how long the attendant will let him stay there, and the thought that they will make him leave makes him feel slightly sick. He likes it here—the quiet, the muted hum of the tanks, the strange lights. They make him feel somewhere else.

His mother is working the night shift and won’t be home until just before he’s meant to go to school the next morning. They’ll have long enough together that he could tell her he got fired from the shop, but not long enough that he could reasonably pretend to have forgotten as he tugs on his uniform and slips out the front door.

She won’t be mad—she never is.

She can’t take on another shift.

Mentally, he has started taking stock. His Xbox is a few years old, but he’ll get something for it. He has a stack of old music magazines from his dad that could catch the eye of a collector. His computer, maybe.

The earrings.

His stomach twists.

Really, it’s not much. It’ll earn them a month, which could be just long enough for him to get another job, but what’s the likelihood of that in a city where most kids are just trying to bulk their CV’s for their college applications. Besides, his grades speak for themselves. He got lucky with the shop, and lightning doesn’t strike twice.

‘Hey, kid. We’re closing soon, so unless you wanna buy something…’

Guan Shan nods. His shoulders round.

For no logical reason, he says: ‘Can I take a goldfish?’

‘Sure. The black moor? Saw you had your eye on that one.’

‘No, one of the others.’

The attendant comes up next to him. ‘Just the one? They don’t like being on their own, you know.’

He presses his jaw tightly. A small sound comes out of him. He looks at the price tag and is somehow shocked and saddened to see the figure so low.

‘Fine,’ he says. ‘The black one, too, I guess.’

He pays, then leaves. It’s late enough that the streets are quieter than he expected. He’s usually home by now, his shift over, reheating leftovers while he works on his homework. He stands there while the shop attendant locks up behind him, holding the plastic bag with two fish in his hand. He feels stupid. Behind his eyes, he can feel a sort of stinging sensation.

He has the unnameable urge to grab one of the passing strangers and tell them how he’s feeling, what has happened, what could happen. On some level he knows that everyone has their own problems, and he’s not the type of person to overstep his bounds. Instead, he watches them pass, and after a few more minutes he goes to the nearest subway station and gets the train home.

/

He had half expected He Tian to find him on the street. He’d imagined it, He Tian catching his arm as he wandered from store to store, deliberating at large windows with thin mannequins and expensive jewellery without price tags. There is a part of him that’s disappointed that it didn’t play out like this, a part of him that is even angrier to find He Tian sitting in the stairwell of his apartment when he eventually does get home.

It’s close to midnight, and the stairwell is clinically quiet. Outside, the stars are dusty and covered in a thin layer of smog that is less noticeable in the day. He Tian looks exhausted. He’s the type of good looking where even the slightest imperfection somehow makes him even more attractive. Guan Shan hates it.

He stands when Guan Shan walks in, suddenly filling the space, and Guan Shan says, ‘Get outta my way.’

‘Where have you been?’

Guan Shan shoulders past him. There’s a moment where he thinks He Tian will grab him around the shoulders, the air around him simmering enough that Guan Shan is convinced it’s a near thing, choking with danger, but he lets him pass. He follows Guan Shan up the staircase, his footsteps silent, his body casting long shadows on the steps where Guan Shan sets his feet.

At the door, Guan Shan pockets the notice that’s taped there, knowing He Tian has already seen it. Less sharply, he picks up the notes in He Tian’s and Jian Yi’s writing and folds them into careful squares.

‘You’re not comin’ in,’ he says.

‘I called you, like, fifty times. Did you block me?’

Guan Shan thinks He Tian sounds angrier than he really has a right to be. He turns and presses his back to the door. He has his keys clenched tightly in a closed fist.

‘Yeah. I didn’t want to talk to you. I thought you would’ve gotten that.’

‘I can get you another job. Something better paid.’

‘You’re so fuckin’ clueless.’

He Tian’s eyes tighten.

‘You’re ruining my life,’ says Guan Shan.

‘That’s—that isn’t true. I’ve helped you. You would’ve been expelled if—’

‘Maybe I would’ve gotten expelled. But I wouldn’t have had She Li on my dick all the time, would I? Wouldn’t need you to get me a job ‘cause you made me lose my last one, would I? You’re just—stickin’ a bandage on shit when you hurt me first.’

‘It’s not always like that. Don’t make it sound like it’s always like that.’

Guan Shan shakes his head. ‘I want you to go. I told you I didn’t want to see you again. Fuck off.’

He Tian says, ‘Let me pay what was on the door.’

‘Fuck off.’

He Tian doesn’t move and Guan Shan squeezes his eyes shut. He’s going to cry again, the frustration bubbling sourly in the back of his throat. He doesn’t trust himself to open the door while He Tian is still here because he knows he’ll probably let him in.

‘Do I really make you feel like a failure?’

Guan Shan rubs at his eyes with his fist. His voice comes hoarse and thick: ‘I am a failure. Bein’ around you just makes it so much more fuckin’ obvious.’

He doesn’t want He Tian’s pity when he says this, or his reassurance. He’s just being honest. Saying it out loud is kind of breathlessly relieving. He couldn’t say something like that to his mother, or any of the teachers at school. He couldn’t say it to Grey, who he’s known for years. He Tian knows more about him than anyone. It’s a terrifying thought.

If they never see each other again, will He Tian tell everyone the things Guan Shan has told him? About the restaurant and his dad, or about She Li and the things Guan Shan has let him do to him? He feels vulnerable and sick thinking about it, completely powerless, as he does a lot of the time when he’s around He Tian.

He oscillates between that feeling of uselessness and the feeling of being so empowered that he thinks it must be what being high or drunk feels like. That latter has him trusting his own convictions, having an unadulterated faith in himself like jumping from a bridge and thinking he might just fly—so long as He Tian is with him. He doesn’t like how it’s one or the other, empowered or powerless, and rarely anything in between. He’s heard adults on TV talking about being codependent, pulled punishingly into each other's orbit, and he wonders if this is the same thing.

In the end he supposes it doesn’t really matter. So what if He Tian tells everyone? Probably, he won’t see the rest of the year out at school. He’ll get a job on a different side of the city and no one will hear from him ever again. The embarrassment will all be internal and will only last a week or two. Then life will move on. He wishes he were older and wiser and better at believing this. He wishes it didn’t feel like the universe might fall out from beneath him.

‘Doesn’t matter what I do, it turns to shit,’ he tells He Tian. ‘No matter how hard I work, I’m never gonna earn enough. I can spend three hours studyin’ for a test and still come last. If it isn’t She Li, then it’ll be someone else. I just—I can’t catch a fuckin’ break, He Tian. But you do somethin’ and you come first every time. Life’s so easy for you.’

He Tian shifts from side to side. ‘Do you think things wouldn’t feel so hard if you stopped focussing on what you think my life is like?’

‘You’re pissin’ me off.’

‘I don’t know how I’m meant to help you. You won’t let me give you money. It’s like pulling teeth from you just trying to know what’s going on with you. What are you so fucking afraid of?’

‘I never asked for your help.’

‘You shouldn’t have to—that’s why we’re friends.’

‘I never said I wanted to be your friend.’

He Tian frowns, his look very serious. He isn’t teasing tonight. Neither is Guan Shan. There is the sense that their interactions are always anything but teasing, really, some dark undercurrent that runs between the two of them like dark veins.

He Tian says, ‘Are those fish?’

For a moment Guan Shan thinks he’s joking, deflecting wildly to distract from the seriousness of what Guan Shan has just said. Then he feels the crinkle of a plastic bag in his hand and, remembering how he’d just spent the last few hours, nearly drops the two goldfish onto the floor.

‘Yeah,’ he says.

‘You don’t have a tank.’

‘Yeah, no. I don’t know why I bought them.’

He Tian hesitates. There is a curious, predictable gleam in his eyes. ‘Red and black?’

‘It’s all they had left at the store.’

He Tian is looking intently at the bag. ‘Do you remember when we went to the aquarium? And you said I wasn’t someone you could forget?’

‘I just meant that—’

‘I know what you meant. But I always pretend like you meant it the other way.’

Guan Shan thinks, Don’t you think things would be easier if you stopped focusing on what you want me to mean and what I actually mean?

Instead of saying anything, he looks down at his sneakers. They’re scuffed and starting to rip at the seams. The thought of having to buy new ones makes him panic and the thought of buying a pair of second-hand ones online makes him panic even more. There’s no shame in it, but the thought of wearing someone else’s clothes makes him feel strange, especially when he knows He Tian could buy fifty pairs without blinking.

Guan Shan considers that thought and replays what He Tian has just said about focusing on his life too much more than his own. Maybe part of that is true.

Before He Tian, did he always feel things so intensely? Did the bad always feel so fucking awful? He knows that things were mechanical, and he was mean and didn’t think much about other people in particularly nice ways. He knows he didn’t laugh much then, or have dinners and sleepovers with friends. He knows everything hurt on a distant, muted level that was easy to ignore. Not much time has passed since then, and he reasons that nothing about him has probably changed, just everything else around him.

‘I can’t understand why you won’t let me help you,’ says He Tian, when the silence has stretched too long.

‘Because I’ll get used to it.’

He Tian frowns, not understanding.

‘One day, you’re not gonna be around. And I’ll be fucked.’

‘I’ll always be there for you.’

‘You don’t know that. People say that a lot and then they disappear or get taken away, even if they didn’t want to.’

It’s obvious they’re talking about his dad, but it feels safer to talk about things in vague, subjective conversation. Maybe things would be easier if they talked openly about things and didn’t use metaphors and hypotheticals. As it is, Guan Shan doesn’t feel ready to try the alternative. He is conscious of the fact that this feels like a conversation. They are passing words back and forth that hold meaning and neither of them has touched the other yet. It feels new and fragile as an oil painting, still wet, and so he doesn’t let himself think about this for long.

‘I think you’re getting this wrong,’ says He Tian. ‘I’m not asking you to rely on me. Obviously, I’d kind of like that. I like the thought of you needing me, and I know that says something about me. But—I’m just asking you to let me help you. Just here and there, no strings.’

Guan Shan rubs his forehead with the back of his knuckles. His keys are starting to pinch his skin and he can feel a headache starting to surface.

‘I’m tired,’ he says. ‘I actually do want you to go.’

He Tian’s jaw clenches and he breathes out heavily through his nose. He’s probably thinking he’s wasted his time.

‘Okay,’ he says then. ‘But we’re not done.’

A new wave of exhaustion comes over Guan Shan, crippling and final. He wants to get into bed with his skin against cold sheets and sleep for twelve hours without waking once.

‘You’re not the only one that ever gets to decide that,’ he tells He Tian, a little sharply. ‘You’ve gotta learn to let people go.’

‘But what if I know I can help them?’ says He Tian. ‘If I don’t, I’ve just—failed.’

They look at each other.

A minute stretches into an eternity that could be seconds or hours, and everything has gone backwards. Everything is the same.

Guan Shan can’t put his finger on what has just happened, but he feels like laughing. Their fears are twinned, self-perpetuating, some kind of ouroboros chasing its tail. Who will get caught first?

They both seem to take in a breath at the same time, and He Tian takes a step back.

‘Goodnight,’ he says.

Guan Shan nods. He waits for He Tian’s retreating back to disappear a few flights down before opening the door to his apartment, and shuts it swiftly behind him.

/

There’s a knock at the door while he’s brushing his teeth. The fish are swimming placidly in their bag on the edge of the bathroom sink. It’s past one, and he keeps all the lights off because his eyes are feeling sore. He’s adjusted to the dim glow that comes from street lamps seeping through the curtains, the blink of the timer on the electric stove, his Xbox gleaming in his bedroom. His mother shouldn’t be home yet and she has her own set of keys.

With a sinking heart, Guan Shan pictures his landlord demanding payment.

Worse, he pictures He Tian. Before He Tian left, they’d resolved nothing. It feels like being back to square one, chasing each other around a chess board. It fills him with a vast emptiness that makes him feel like he’s existing outside of himself, waiting for someone else to take over.

He pads silently towards the front door, his toothbrush jammed into his cheek, and peers through the viewer. There’s toothpaste dripping down his chin. In the hall, there’s no one there. He’s half-convinced he imagined it. He counts to ten before he opens the door, steps out—and his foot connects with something hard. There is a cardboard box sitting on the welcome mat.

Guan Shan peers around. The light in the stairwell is artificially bright. He kneels down and opens the tabs on the box, which hasn’t been taped. He swallows.

For the fish, says the note on the second box, nestled inside the first. Careful, it’s fragile.

Guan Shan rubs the heel of a palm into his right eye. He sighs. Then he reaches out, braces himself, and picks up the tank. He carries it into his apartment, and the door locks behind him.

/

thank you for reading! if you’d like to support me on my ko-fi/request a short drabble, you can do so here: https://ko-fi.com/agapaic 💞

[watchmegetobsessed]

TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part Three (Harry Styles)

a/n: part 3 wohoo! thank you so much for all the love you’ve been showing the series, it keeps me going and writing more and more! originally i thought it would turn out to be about three parts, but it has outgrown that limit so i added two more parts to the masterpost, that’s for sure is gonna happen but i might even add more?! not sure, im still in the writing process so i can’t tell how long it’s going to turn out to be, but this just means even more content for you guys!

as always, feedback is very much appreciated, please make sure to share your thoughts and comments on the part, it’s such a huge boost for writers to read what you thought!!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce

word count: 11.4k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

When you were working at the daycare you couldn’t focus on photography as much as you would have liked to. You often had to stay in for extra hours, wait until the last kid was picked up and then do paperwork, or change the decoration in your room or whatever Clair asked you to do that day. By the time you got home you just wanted to take a bath and fall into bed. You also had to travel 40 minutes to work which took away a lot of time from your day.

Working for Harry helped you immensely with focusing more on your passion. Even on his worse days he got home by six and since your workplace is your home, you don’t even have to drive forty minutes to enjoy the comfort of your home, you just walk up the stairs to your room and that’s it.

In addition, taking care of Izzy, you still have the chance to work on some editing or snap new pictures. You have time off when she has her classes and when you put her down for her nap. The best thing is that Izzy is quite interested in photography, she gets very interested whenever she sees you bring out one of your cameras and she always lets you take pictures of her, posing and goofing around. The folder on your computer that has her name is growing each day with more and more sweet photos of the little girl that has completely stolen your heart. You’ve been regularly getting your favorites shots of her printed and you always leave them on Harry’s desk so when he gets home he sees them and they make him forget about whatever happened at work that day.

You are getting more and more emails about possible sessions and slowly but surely, your weekends start to fill up with weddings, birthday parties and engagement photoshoots. It seems like you have definitely made the right choice when you took this job. No doubts.

“Can I ask a question, daddy?” Izzy is poking the peas around on her plate as the four of you sit at the dining table at dinner. Ruth has joined you today, because Harry had to make a quick trip to his office in the afternoon and you were out shopping with Trevor today.

“Sure, baby,” Harry hums nodding.

“Why don’t you eat meat?” she asks seriously, eyeing her own plate that has some chicken on it, while Harry’s is only stacked with veggies and potatoes.

“Because I decided that I won’t want to.”

“Can I decide that too?”

“You’re a little too young for that, baby. You need the meat to grow big. When you’re older you can think about what kind of things you want to and don’t want to eat.”

“Okay,” she nods without throwing a tantrum about her dad telling her no. You know quite a few kids who would have flipped over it, but not Izzy. Harry might not even realize how good of a job he is doing raising her and teaching her how to be a good human.

“I have another question,” she announces, glancing up at Harry.

“Go ahead.”

“If you don’t eat meat, does that make you an herbivore?”

You can’t push down a chuckle, you were not expecting this. Your eyes meet Ruth’s over the table, she is enjoying this conversation just as much as you do. It’s cute how Izzy put two and two together and made a seemingly logical conclusion.

“We learned about herbivore dinosaurs this week,” you inform Harry, who is a little lost about why his daughter just called him an herbivore. Also, you’re quite impressed that she remembered the word, though she struggled with it at first, but it seems like it finally stuck.

Harry shakes his head chuckling as he sets his fork down, looking over at Izzy.

“In a way I should be called an herbivore, but that’s not what you call people who don’t eat meat. I’m a vegetarian.”

“Oh, okay,” she nods, wrapping up the information in her head as she keeps eating.

You and Ruth clean up after dinner while Harry gives Izzy a bath, a little earlier than usually, because she spilled apple juice on herself, so he decided to just go straight for the bath instead of changing once more before bedtime.

“Will you be fine with putting these away, Darling?” Ruth asks as you’re drying the last few dishes.

“Sure! I’ll take care of it,” you smile back at her as she nods and heads into the living room.

Harry emerges from upstairs with a freshly cleaned Izzy on his arms. As soon as her little feet touch the floor she bolts over to join Ruth in front of the TV while Harry walks into the kitchen just as you put the last dish away.

“Hey, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” he starts and suddenly, you feel your stomach drop, especially because his face seems very serious.

“Oh God, what did I do?” you ask, feeling yourself panicking already.

“Nothing! It’s not like that!” he chuckles softly, realizing you kind of misunderstood the situation.

“Okay, good. Sorry, you just looked so serious.”

“Sorry, I was just… thinking. So two friends of mine that I work together with also are getting married soon. They had a photographer booked already, but the guy cancelled on them and, um, I hope you don’t mind, but I recommended you to them.”

“Really?” you ask in complete surprise.

“Yeah. Actually, they saw a picture of Izzy that you took in my office and we started talking about how you do photoshoots in your free time and then I told them to ask if you’d be up to do their wedding as well.”

“Wow, that’s really nice of you, Harry. Thank you!”

“I gave them your number, they’ll probably call you sometime next week or so.”

“Great!” you beam, excited about the new event you can work at. “I hope they’ll want to work with me.”

“I kind of hyped you up for them and they seemed very pleased with the pictures I showed them, so I’m sure they will want to,” Harry chuckles softly, even blushing a little. It always amazes you how a tall, muscular guy with so many tattoos can be such a soft, caring and loving person. It always reminds you not to judge the book by its cover.

“Thank you, Harry. This means a lot to me.” Reaching over you place your hand on his arm and give it a gentle squeeze before moving past him to join Ruth and Izzy in the living room.

Harry was right about Sarah and Mitch being all excited to get in contact with you, because they don’t even wait for the next week to reach out. Sunday afternoon you are working on some more editing at the dining table while Harry and Izzy are painting on the other end of the table, busy with their masterpieces when your phone starts ringing, an unknown number shown on the screen.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you answer it, leaning back in your seat.

“Y/N, hi! My name is Sarah Jones, I hope I’m not calling at a bad time, Harry gave me your number this week.”

“Oh! Sarah, yeah! So nice to talk to you!” you beam and Harry’s eyes snap up to you at the mentioning of the familiar name. “Harry mentioned you’d reach out and don’t worry, I’m happy to chat.”

“That’s great. I wanted to wait until Monday, but truth is that we are kind of in a short of time and I was afraid you’d be already busy for our date, so I wanted to call you as soon as possible.”

“No worries.”

“So first and foremost, I’m gonna ask if you have anything planned on the last weekend of May. I know it’s just in a few weeks, but I really hope we can work it out.”

“Let me pull up my calendar,” you tell her as you open up the app on your computer that you use to keep track with your sessions and events. Finding the weekend in question in it, you smile at the empty space. “Good news, seems like I’m free that weekend.”

“Oh thank God!” she breathes out in relief and you let out a chuckle. “That’s so amazing. So then would it be possible to meet up sometime next week? You could show some more works of yours and we can discuss more details, how does that sound?”

“This week? Well I have to work—“ you start, but Harry cuts you off.

“Come into the office tomorrow morning.” “What?”

“Put her on speaker,” he smiles nodding towards your phone and you do as he asked, setting it to the table with Sarah on speaker. “Hey Sarah!”

“Harry, hi!”

“Aunt Sarah?” Izzy’s ears perk up, some pink paint on her cheeks that you have no idea how it got there, because her painting doesn’t even have any pink in it.

“Hi Izzy! So good to hear your voice!” she chuckles through the phone.

“Sarah, you’re gonna be at the studio Monday morning, right?” Harry asks and you can’t not notice how his voice changed the slightest bit as soon as he started talking about business.

“Yeah and Mitch is coming too,” she confirms.

“Okay then how about you come in tomorrow morning, Y/N?”

“But what about Izzy?”

“She can come too. I’ll look after her while you discuss the details, it’s no big deal. It’s been a while since the last time she came to work with me,” he smirks over at the little girl, who is already excited to spend some more time with her daddy at his workplace.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Absolutely,” he nods smiling.

“Thank you, well then I’m okay with tomorrow if it’s fine for you as well, Sarah.”

“That would be perfect! Thank you guys both, Mitch and I really appreciate it.”

“No worries,” Harry nods, going back to his painting. You take Sarah off the phone as you say your goodbye before ending the call.

You start Monday off with some extra excitement. Not just because you are about to get booked for another event, but also because it’s going to be the first time you see Harry at his workplace. He has been quite good at keeping his business separated from his private life, it never really happens that you catch him dwell about anything work related whenever he is home and around Izzy. The phone call with Sarah was like a tiny glimpse of what he might be like when he is in work mode and you’re kind of curious to see more of this side of him.

Just as usual, Harry takes care of Izzy in the morning while you get ready on your own. You want to look good, not only are you going to meet more of his friends, but people he works with. Or should you say, people who work for him.

You choose a light pink dress, throwing a white knitted sweater over your shoulders with a pair of ballerinas. After putting on some light makeup and grabbing your purse and laptop you head downstairs to grab a quick breakfast. Izzy is already sitting at the table, still in her pajamas since her and food are a dangerous combination and Harry always makes sure to get her dressed once she is away from all of that.

“You look so pretty, Y/N!” she beams, her legs dangling from the chair as she digs into her oatmeal. Harry appears from the kitchen and he has the same look on his face like when he saw you leave for that wedding a while ago. A blush paints his cheeks as he slows his steps down, his eyes running down on the length of your body before they return to your face.

“Izzy is right, you look… really pretty, Y/N,” he compliments into your face, unlike last time when you only heard him call you pretty when he thought you were long gone.

“Thank you,” you breathe out with a soft chuckle.

The morning carries on as usual, Harry dresses Izzy for the day and then you all head out, however you stop short upon seeing the various cars parked on the driveway and the double garage.

“Maybe take the Rover, it’s got the child seat in it and I’ll take the Jaguar today,” Harry suggests as he hands you over the keys to the Rover and then nears the car he is taking for the day.

“Oh yeah, you just take the Jaguar, boss,” you chuckle under your breath, finding it a little funny that deciding on which car you’re taking for the day is even a question in someone else’s life.

Izzy sings along the radio as you follow Harry’s car into the label’s building. Of course, it’s not just some simple office building, it’s situated in the riches area of the city and the building is massive with loads of floors and a huge HES Records sign above the entrance where you meet Harry after parking down.

“Good morning, Mr. Styles! Hello, Izzy!” the woman behind the front desk smiles widely immediately, standing up from her chair to hand Harry a stack of envelopes. “Your post, sir.”

“Thank you, Veronica. Have a nice day,” Harry nods in her way as the three of you move through the hall to the elevators. Waiting for it to arrive, you glance at the board on the wall that lists everything you can find in the building and the level you should look for it at. There are endless amount of studios, at least three on each levels, offices, creative rooms and conference rooms. It’s pretty clear that HES Records manages a lot of talents and that requires a lot of space.

Arriving to the twentieth floor, which is of course the top of the building, you are in awe as you realize that the whole floor is basically Harry’s office. There’s a kind of hall area for his two assistants, he has his own conference room, his kitchen and dining area and of course, his office space. The whole place screams power and influence. The modern design of the interior makes it such a fancy work space not just for him, but for everyone else in the building. It’s truly impressive.

“Wow, Harry. This place is… amazing,” you breathe out as he walks the two of you into the conference room where Izzy immediately climbs up to one of the chairs, standing up so she can lean onto the table. Harry walks behind her and adjusts her so she just sits before she could fall off.

“Thank you. I really like this place too. I always thought it’s important to have a great place to work at,” he smiles, clearly proud of how far his business has come. “There’s a mini fridge over there, feel free to take anything you’d like. Sarah texted me on the way here that they’ll be here shortly.”

“Great, thank you,” you nod, taking a seat next to Izzy as you set your laptop up. The glass door of the room opens and one of the assistants peeks inside.

“Mr. Styles, Mrs. Wonstein is on the phone asking for you.”

“Oh, alright, give me a minute and I’ll take it.” The assistant nods and walks out. “Izzy, come with daddy a little, alright? Let Y/N do her thing.” “She can stay, if you want. I can look after her,” you tell him, but he shakes his head as Izzy climbs off the chair and running over to him, she takes his hand.

“No, just focus on this one. I’ll take care of her, don’t worry.”

“Thank you, Harry,” you smile with gratitude as the two of them walk out, leaving you alone. You start scrolling through your folders, wondering which photos you should show Sarah and Mitch, picking out some of your favorites while you wait for them, though they don’t take too long to arrive. Soon enough the glass door opens and the lovely couple walks in.

“Y/N! Hi, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” Sarah greets you, wrapping you in a warm hug before stepping aside.

“Hi, I’m Mitch, nice to meet you,” the groom-to-be smiles shyly as he pulls you in for a short hug as well.

“Good to meet you guys too,” you smile back at them as you all sit to the table.

“Thank you so much for meeting us in such a short notice. Our photographer bailed out on us and I was starting to really worry when Harry mentioned that you are doing this kind of stuff in your free time,” Sarah explains.

“No worries. Would you like to go over some of my previous works?” you offer and they both nod in excitement before you start clicking through some old projects.

They share their vision for the whole wedding and the kind of pictures they would like and you like their approach and feel like it’s right up your alley. They both seem to like what you show them and Sarah compliments on how well you are able to catch small, but important moments.

“The wedding won’t be too big, just friends and family, but we do want a lot of memories, it means a lot to us,” Sarah explains and you nod, noting everything she says.

“Harry said you like this oldschool kind of vibe in your pictures,” Mitch chimes in.

“Oh, yeah. I like to make them look like they weren’t taken on a digital sometimes.”

“Do you think you can make some of those for us as well? Not all of them, just a couple,” Sarah asks.

“Sure! It’s more about the editing process, but it’s totally doable.”

You go over a few more things, making sure you’re on the same page, but you feel like things are working out perfectly. Though you guessed they would be great people, it’s still nice to work with such a nice and professional couple. You’ve had some crazy ones before, they definitely don’t make the job easy on you, but it’s not the case right now.

“Okay, so are you sure the date is okay for you? We wouldn’t want you to cancel on anything you had before just because we are Harry’s friends,” Mitch assures you, but you give them a warm smile.

“I’m totally free, don’t worry. Harry doesn’t have that kind of advantage here,” you chuckle softly.

“Thank you so much in this case. You’re truly a lifesaver,” Sarah breathes out in relief.

“Thank you for the trust. I’m really looking forward to working with you guys!”

Finishing up the meeting you pack up, chatting a little out of the business talk with Sarah and Mitch as you head over to Harry’s office.

“Hey! How did it go?” Harry asks as soon as the three of you walk in. Izzy is sitting at his desk, like a little boss, coloring something as he is sitting on the corner of the desk.

“Amazing, we owe you one for suggesting her,” Sarah sighs and you can’t help but just chuckle at how thankful she really is that you could help them out.

“You owe me no more than just one dance at the wedding,” Harry smiles at her.

“Can I dance too?” Izzy’s head perks up.

“Oh baby, you’re not coming to the wedding. You’ll be staying with Grandma, I already told you.” Izzy pouts at her dad, but she doesn’t seem to mind it that much, she quickly goes back to coloring.

“We’ll dance some other time, okay?” Sarah offers her and she nods happily.

“Can I dance with Uncle Mitch too?” she questions and Mitch just smiles down at her.

“Of course,” he hums, curling an arm around Sarah’s waist. “I have a meeting in ten so I’ll head out, I’m gonna pick James up in the afternoon, alright?” He kisses Sarah’s temple before pulling Harry into a brotherly hug. “Y/N, it was so nice to meet you and thank you for everything again,” he smiles at you, enveloping you in a quick hug as well.

“See you soon,” you smile back before he waves his last goodbye and leaves. “Who’s James?” you ask curiously.

“James is our son. He is turning three this year,” Sarah beams proudly.

“Oh! You two already have a son, that’s great! I’ll make sure to snap a bunch of photos of him too,” you chuckle.

“Please, our house is already packed with pictures, but there’s just never enough,” Sarah laughs.

The three of you chat a little longer while Izzy is busy with her coloring, talking about the wedding and whatnot, Harry invites her and Mitch over for dinner sometime and she happily says yes before business is calling her so she heads out as well.

“Okay, come one, little Sunshine. Let’s get home, Rosaline will be over soon for your piano lesson,” you smile down at Izzy who throws all her coloring stuff into one of Harry’s drawers before hopping off the leather seat.

“I’ll see you in the afternoon, okay?” Harry leans down and kisses the top of her head before pressing his lips to her cheek as well.

“Bye daddy, have a good day!” she calls out, grabbing your hand as you head to the door, Harry following behind.

“Mr. Styles, you have a meeting in five with—“ one of the assistants speaks up, but Harry stops her.

“I know, tell him I’ll be down in a minute. And please call Isaac to remind him about his deadline tomorrow,” he asks in that voice again you heard yesterday when Sarah called. There’s just something so intimidating yet exciting in the way he bosses around, but not like an asshole. He is a man in power, but he surely knows how to use it for the good.

“I forgot to talk to you about the time Izzy is spending at my mum’s, please remind me to go over it with you tonight, alright?” Harry asks and you nod as the elevator’s door opens and the two of you walk in.

“Bye daddy!” Izzy waves at him.

“Bye baby, be good! Bye Y/N!” he smiles as the door starts to close.

“See you later,” you smile back before he disappears from your sight.

The meeting with Sarah and Mitch got you buzzing, because it’s gonna be such an intimate yet beautiful wedding and those are your favorite. You can’t wait to start snapping the pictures and make their memories last forever of their big day.

You want to say thank you to Harry for suggesting you to them, so while Izzy is with Rosaline, you make a quick round to the grocery store and get everything you need to make some cupcakes, knowing well Harry loves those. He once told you that he could easily eat a dozen of those if he had the chance, so you think it’s gonna be the perfect way to thank him.

You keep the usual schedule, but after your little learning session in the afternoon, instead of heading out to the backyard to play, you suggest you bake the cupcakes together and Izzy is more than happy to help you.

It doesn’t take long for the kitchen to turn into a warzone, ingredients spilled to the counter all over the place, some music is playing in the background and you’ve been struggling to figure out how to use the different machines around the super modern kitchen.

You go all out with the decorations, you even bought some food coloring so you can make the cupcakes different colors and mess around with the icing and cream as well. You get so busy with the task on hand that time flies by faster than you expected. The two of you are still working on the decorating when the front door opens and Harry walks into the mess you’ve created in the past hours.

“What is doing on here?” he chuckles, seeing Izzy’s hair covered in flour, whipped cream on her nose and cheeks as she is throwing some sprinkles on one of the cupcakes, sitting on the kitchen island counter while you are finishing up another one.

“Oh! I wanted it to be a surprise!” you pout. “Izzy and I are making you cupcakes!”

“Why do I deserve a surprise?” he asks smirking, walking farther into the kitchen as he looks around, finding the mess quite amusing, rather than annoying. Harry knows well enough that it’s not easy to keep the place around you clean when there are kids involved in any process.

“I wanted to thank you for suggesting me to Sarah and Mitch. It was really nice of you.”

“Already told you it was nothing. Of course I suggest them a good photographer if I know one.”

You just smile at him shrugging, because no matter how hard he is trying to play it down, it meant a lot to you.

“Look daddy!” Izzy holds up her cupcake, half of it is covered with sprinkles, the other half is decorated with chocolate chips and she is clearly proud of it.

“That looks great, baby!” he smiles proudly, kissing the top of her head. “You have so much stuff on you, you could easily turn into a cupcake too,” he jokes, making her laugh.

“Be a cupcake with me, daddy!” Izzy beams and before Harry could stop her, she wipes some whipped cream to his face, getting him dirty as well. You gasp before letting out a laugh, Izzy shrieks happily seeing her dad all dressed up fancily and licking the cream off his face.

“Isabelle Styles, you have no idea what you just brought on yourself,” he warns in a low tone, already making Izzy scoot backwards as she is trying to escape, but she doesn’t have anywhere to go, the kitchen island’s edge is right behind her butt. However, she doesn’t realize it and tries to push herself back some more, deeming herself to fall right off, but before anything could happen Harry scoops her into his arms, pressing his creamy face to her cheek, making an even bigger mess that’s already there. Izzy is moving around, laughing and screaming as Harry gets some more cream to his hands, wiping it onto her anywhere he can.

“Oh my God, you are wasting all the cream!” you call him out, but it’s such a sweet moment to witness, you would never blame him for wasting it.

Harry stops attacking Izzy and turns to you with a dark look in his eyes.

“Izzy, I think Y/N looks too clean, doesn’t she?” he cocks his head to the side, exchanging a look with the girl in his arms.

“She does!” Izzy agrees as you start backing away from them. Harry sets Izzy down to her feet, grabbing the bowl with the remaining of the cream. He gets a handful for himself and lets Izzy fill her palms as well.

“Oh no, don’t you dare!” you warn them, holding up your pointing finger at them, trying to escape, but you are kind of cornered against the counter.

“It’s my house, I do whatever I want to,” he smirks, so full of himself and in a blink of the eye, they both launch themselves at you and Hell breaks loose.

They start whipping cream on you anywhere they can and when it’s gone, Harry just decides to go for anything else he can reach. Izzy is throwing sprinkles around while thanks to Harry, flour is flying everywhere, completely destroying the kitchen.

“Stop! No! I surrender!” you scream, fighting back, but it’s two against one.

“No mercy!” Harry shouts, so excited, as if he just transformed into a little boy, throwing mud around.

You grab his wrists when he tries to pour sugar on top of your head straight from the contained, holding him back, but he is so much stronger than you, it’s kind of a lost fight already. You don’t even realize how close he is, your chests are almost touching as he has you pinned against the counter, faces only about two inches away from each other. His wrist slides out of your hold, but he drops the sugar to the counter next to you. You try to snatch it to use his own weapon against him, but he is quick to stop you, forcing your hand down next to your side, but in the process he managed to bring you even closer, flushed against his hard chest and your lips part at the sudden mood change that he must be feeling as well, because the playfulness disappears from his eyes pretty fast and it’s replaced by something entirely different, something you can’t even read, because you haven’t seen it in his eyes before. And then…

Then you see his eyes flicker down to your lips, just a moment before yours move down to his. It’s that moment. It’s that exact moment when you just know you both are thinking about kissing, but you don’t know if it’s going to happen or now. You’re not even sure you want it to happen.

You fucking moron, of course you want to kiss him! That tiny voice in the back of your mind screams at you. In a heartbeat, it seems like he is about to move closer, but then the moment is interrupted and completely destroyed when a woman walks into the house, scaring you to death.

“Wow, it seems like Izzy took over control completely,” she comments, walking further into the house as you jump away from Harry, suddenly very aware of the mess you’ve made.

“Gemma, what—“ Harry starts, but he is quickly cut off.

“Don’t ask what I’m doing here, I literally texted you today that I would come by and you said it’s okay.” She gives him a look before her eyes move over to you as you’re trying to somehow clean everything up, but it’ll take a little longer probably. “You must be Y/N, hi! I’m Gemma, Harry’s sister.”

She steps over to you holding out a hand and you reach for it, but then stop, seeing that your palms are all floury. You both let out a chuckle, deciding to just move over the handshake.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you, though it would have been better if we met when I didn’t have whipped cream in my eyes,” you joke.

“Auntie Gemma, we made cupcakes, do you want one?” Izzy runs up to her, holding up a cupcake that was finished, unlike the majority that are going to have poor decorations, since Harry and Izzy decided to use everything in the fight. Now it’s the floor that’s covered with icing, cream and sprinkles.

“Maybe later, sweetie, but they look awesome!”

As you wipe your face with a kitchen towel, you can feel Harry’s gaze on you, your heart beating so fast in your chest, it’s pushing all the blood up into your head that’s already feeling dizzy. What would have happened if Gemma didn’t walk in? Would has he kissed you? Or did you misread the situation and it was nothing just part of the game?

You busy yourself with cleaning up as Harry cleans himself a little with a paper towel before stepping closer to his sister.

“I totally forgot you texted, I replied in the middle of a meeting, I think I didn’t process the message.”

“It’s fine,” Gemma sighs. “I’m already used to my little brother forgetting about me,” she teases him, but he just rolls his eyes at her.

“Let me just help Y/N clean up the kitchen and I’ll be right with you. Would you mind cleaning Izzy off?” Harry asks her, but you stop him short.

“Oh, I’ll take care of this, don’t worry,” you assure him, but as his eyes snap over at you, you lose your voice. He clearly felt the moment as well earlier and now it’s kind of getting awkward, you don’t really want to be left alone with him right now. Not until you figure out what this whole thing was.

“Are you sure? I mean I was the one who started it and—“

“It’s fine,” you try your best to smile at him without overheating. He is standing several feet away from you, but you can still feel what it felt like to be pushed up against him.

Harry hesitates, his eyes following your every move while you are trying to busy yourself and act normal, while you are literally crumbling inside. You almost kissed your boss in the middle of his kitchen, you need a moment to process that.

“Alright, let me know if you need help,” he murmurs before picking Izzy up and heading upstairs to clean them both, Gemma following them right behind. When they are out of your sight, you lean against the counter, breathing out heavily.

Meanwhile upstairs, Harry hands Izzy his phone to play some games while he cleans her and himself off in the bathroom. Gemma sits on the edge of the tub, eyeing her brother curiously, which Harry notices.

“What?” he asks, stripping Izzy out of her dirty clothes.

“What was all that about?”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw you, Harry. You were like, ready to snog Y/N right then and there when I walked in. Did I miss something?”

“No idea what you’re talking about and I would appreciate it if you didn’t bring this up when it’s not just the two of us,” he replies firmly, looking down at the girl who is obliviously tapping on the screen. Gemma just rolls her eyes before leaving the two of them alone.

Wandering down she finds you scrubbing the counters from the mess you’ve made, deep in your thoughts. Seeing her walk in, you shoot her a smile, not sure what to say or if you even should say anything, but when she grabs a towel for herself and starts helping, you speak up.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”

“Don’t be silly, I’m happy to help,” she smiles, as she starts cleaning the kitchen island up. “So how do you like working for my brother, so far? He mentioned what happened with the daycare. Honestly, those mothers are entitled spoiled brats,” she scoffs making you smile.

“They weren’t too delightful even before the whole fiasco,” you chuckle softly. “But I really like it here. There are a lot more perks and it’s so much easier to focus on one kid than to have fifteen at a time,” you point out making her laugh.

“Yeah, I’m good with my two, don’t think I could handle more.”

“Oh, you have kids?”

“Yes, two sons. Beau is turning ten this year and Jasper turned six in January.” Gemma pulls out her phone from her back pocket and unlocking it she shows you the homescreen that has a picture of two adorable boys sitting on a bench next to each other, munching on a big bowl of strawberries. The younger one, Jasper has a red sunhat on his head while Beau is rocking some cool sunglasses.

“Oh my God, they look so much like you!”

“I get that a lot and honestly, they really should!” Gemma scoffs. “It took twenty fucking hours for Jasper’s big head to come out!”

“Wow that sounds way too much,” you laugh and Gemma nods with a tired, but clearly proud smile.

“Yeah, but it was worth it. Anyway, after my two boys, Izzy is the little princess of the family.”

“The boys get along well with her?” you ask as you both keep cleaning.

“They act like her big brothers, they get so protective over her!”

“That’s cute.”

“Yeah, they really are. My mom has this summer barbeque every year, if Harry doesn’t invite you with him then I’m doing it now, because you need to see how crazy out family gets,” she smirks at you. “All of our cousins and the kids are there, it’s a whole parade.”

“I’m sure it’s a lot of fun,” you smile at her. “One of my friends in high school had a really big family and they always invited me to birthdays at their place, I loved how lively and buzzing it was always.”

“Yeah, it’s nice to get together from time to time,” she nods smiling. “So do you have a boyfriend or something?” she asks then, implying that she is not even sure if you are playing on the team she is assuming.

“Oh, um, no. It’s just me for now. So no boyfriend for me.” Your answer, making sure it gives her the information she was trying to get as well.

“Are you done interrogating her, Gem?” Harry appears from upstairs, Izzy running ahead of him before smashing herself against Gemma’s legs.

“We’re just having a chat, is that a crime now?” she rolls her eyes. “Swear to God, he is such a control freak sometimes,” she then adds turning to you.

“Would you stop offending me in my own house?” Harry gives him a look. Gemma leans down and picks Izzy up into her arms.

“Izzy, you really should tell your dad to pull the stick out of his as—“

“You are not finishing that!” Harry cuts her off and you can’t push your laughter back. Harry’s eyes meet yours over Gemma’s shoulders and he realizes that you are still all dirty and messed up. “Y/N, go and take a shower if you want. We’ll take this over, alright?”

It wasn’t an order, but you feel like it was a very firm suggestion. He is clearly uncomfortable with you talking to Gemma and though you’re not sure why, you don’t want to upset him, so just nodding you drop the kitchen towel and head upstairs to clean yourself up.

“I hope you didn’t say anything to upset her,” Harry comments as he takes over the cleaning. Gemma grimaces.

“What could have I possibly said? I was just trying to get to know her!”

“You are always a little too up in my business, Gems,” he sighs.

“Daddy, can I watch some TV, please?” Izzy asks, tugging on his pants.

“Sure. Do you need me to switch it on?”

“No, I’m a big girl, I can do it,” Izzy nods before running off, leaving the siblings alone.

“Didn’t know Y/N was your business,” Gemma tilts her head to the side. Harry opens his mouth to defend himself, but nothing comes out. He was caught with this one. “Oh my God. I knew I walked in on something, you have a thing for her!” Gemma gasps with wide eyes.

“Stop with this! You and Niall are like some middle schoolers, it’s so fucking annoying!”

“So Niall sees it too, huh?”

“Niall is an idiot,” he points out. “He is… obsessed with this idea that I should start dating again and he thinks I should make a move on Y/N.”

“Well, he is an idiot, but he has a point.”

“No he doesn’t!” Harry argues, but Gemma just rolls her eyes.

“So you want to die alone? Is that your plan?”

Harry has always hated his sister’s bluntness. She never held herself back when it came to giving her opinion, whether it was wanted or not. But what Harry hates even more is that most of the time… Gemma is right.

He doesn’t want to die alone, no one wants that, but being with someone is a hard topic for Harry after losing the person he thought he would spend the rest of his life with. Even just the thought makes him feel like he is doing something bad, like he shouldn’t even be thinking about anyone but his wife, even years after the tragedy.

“Harry, look…” Gemma breathes out leaning against the counter next to her brother. “I know it’s a fucked up situation and I know things are still not in the right place in your head. But eventually you’ll have to move on. We all want to see you happy and I think that… I think Maggie would want that for you as well.”

Harry tries not to physically cringe at the name, the familiar pain is already clutching his heart, like it has been since the day of the accident. Some days are easier, some days are harder, but Gemma is right. Things are still not in the right place in his head and he knows that, he is just not sure how to fix it at this point.

“I’m not saying you should date Y/N, I’m not Niall to force anyone on you. I’m just telling you to try to get out a little more, just to test the waters. But you obviously like her so if it happens to be her, it wouldn’t be a big deal, if you ask me.”

Gemma shrugs and goes back to the cleaning while Harry keeps his swirling thoughts to himself. Two of the most important people have told him the same thing recently and though part of him wants to stubbornly go against it, his rational side knows that they might be right.

But not much can be done when a man is still blaming himself for the death of his own wife. Because that’s exactly the case when it comes to Harry and no one really knows that the thought has been haunting him for years now…

After taking a quick shower, washing your hair and changing into clothes that are not covered in flour, you join Harry and Gemma downstairs and insist on finishing the rest of the cleaning while they move out to the terrace to talk. The evening goes by peacefully, Harry decides to order dinner and Gemma joins the three of you at the dining table.

You love watching the dynamic between them and they truly seem to be very close. Gemma likes to embarrass Harry with stories from their childhood and you are enjoying them all a little too much maybe, but it’s nice to think that he wasn’t always this confident businessman.

“It was so good to meet you, Y/N!” Gemma hugs you goodbye after dinner.

“You too!”

“Bye Izzy, come and give a smooch for your favorite auntie!” Squatting down she lets Izzy wrap her arms around her neck as she kisses her cheek sloppily.

“Bye Gemma,” she singsongs. Harry pulls his sister into a hug as well before walking her out.

You start washing the dishes, Izzy talking to you about whatever show she was watching earlier on TV. When Harry returns he tells you to just leave the rest of the cleaning up for him while he bathes Izzy, but you don’t listen to him and finish up while they are upstairs.

Bringing your laptop down you settle on the couch and just start scrolling through social media, reading articles and whatnot, the TV quietly playing in the background. You send out an email regarding the wedding you are attending this weekend, making sure everything is in place.

When Harry emerges again he joins you on the couch with a tired sigh.

“Thanks for washing the dishes but you really should just leave it to me when I ask you to,” he smiles at you softly.

“It’s not a big deal, I like to be useful,” you chuckle shutting your laptop down.

“As if you’re not useful enough already,” he huffs smiling to himself. “Oh, before I forget, I wanted to talk to you about Izzy going to my mum’s.”

“Oh, yeah, you mentioned it earlier.”

“Yeah. So she is going to spend a week at my mother’s and I timed it to line up with Sarah and Mitch’s wedding. So I’ll leave her at my mum’s Sunday evening and pick her up the next Sunday which lines up perfectly with the wedding on Saturday. That week is obviously free for you as well, like a paid vacation,” he chuckles.

“Sounds good. How far does your mother lives from here?”

“Just a few hours, not that horrible of a drive. If you’re up for it, we can carpool to the wedding and then pick her up together right from there and head home.”

“Yeah, that works for me, thanks,” you nod.

Harry stays and turns his attention on the TV, seemingly pretty unbothered while you still haven’t stopped thinking about what happened in the kitchen earlier. Glancing over at Harry it appears that it’s not that big of a deal for him, so it makes you settle with the thought that it’s not one for you either.

“Good night, Harry,” you smile at him grabbing your laptop and phone as you rise from your seat.

“Nigh, Y/N,” he smiles as you round the couch and head upstairs, but you stop at the bottom of the stairs, lancing back at the mop of locks that’s visible from him from behind. You watch him run his fingers through his hair and you let out a shaky breath, knowing well you did not convince yourself that it was nothing. Not for you, at least.

Because you wanted him to kiss you.

The wedding you’re attending is held on a farm owned by the parents of the bride. The whole barn was transformed into this very country like fairytale location, lots of fairy lights and candles along with some nice, pastel colored flowers with a hint of purple between them.

Everything goes planned. Arriving you meet first with the groom and then with the bride in their separated rooms of the house, going over everything they want just one last time before you get down to work, snapping loads of pictures from them getting ready for the big day.

Emily, the bride is a chatty girl and all her bridesmaids are her sisters, coming from a big family with five daughters, she is the second oldest. The groom, Jesse is a few years older than Emily, but they are such a cute couple and they are clearly so madly in love, it’s always nice to see people be so happy with the right person.

You keep going back and forth between the groom and the bride and later you do the first look thing as well, when Jesse stands outside in the field and Emily walks up behind him, letting him see her for the first time. It really is always such a special moment and you tear up as well, watching Jesse fall speechless upon seeing his beautiful fiancé.

As the ceremony is about to start and the guests slowly take their seats on the two sides of the aisle, you make a quick trip down there to make sure you are using the right lenses, not wanting to change a lot when the ceremony has started. You stop in the corner, just trying out if you can shoot some pictures of the guests as well with the lens you are planning to use, you take a look around using the camera and that’s when you almost faint.

You would pick out that face from any, it has grown to you way too much, but you didn’t think you’d ever see him again. Lowering the camera you stare at the tall figure with parted lips, blinking a few times just to make sure it’s who you think it is.

But it is in fact your ex-fiancé, Keith, and to make it even worse, the woman standing next to him with his arm around her waist is the one he cheated on you with. They are still together and now you are staring right at them.

Tears sting your eyes as you try to look for a way to escape before he spots you, though you know he’ll see you sooner or later, but right now they are standing right at the entrance of the barn and you can’t avoid walking past them.

Keeping your head down you try to stay unnoticed as you march towards the exit, but you apparently, you are out of luck.

“Y/N? Is that you?” Keith calls after you just when you thought you were successful in sneaking out. Stopping in your tracks you seriously think about just running off, pretending like you didn’t even hear him, but it’s kind of too late and it would be ridiculous. So turning around on your heels, you plaster the fakest smile on your lips as you look at him.

“Keith, hi!” you breathe out, taking just a few steps closer to him, still keeping some distance between the two of you. Stella, the lucky woman on his arm blinks at you and at first you’re not even sure she realizes who you are or if she even knows you. The longer she looks at you the more certain you become that she indeed does not know that you’re the woman Keith cheated on with her. Nice.

Keith realizes that the two of you have been staring at each other awkwardly, so clearing his throat he quickly introduces the two of you to each other.

“Um, Y/N, this is Stella. Stella, this is… Y/N.”

You can tell he was thinking about using titles, but he decided to leave it at that, though it would have been a lot more interesting if he just titled the two of you.

Y/N, this is the woman I cheated on you with, who is my girlfriend now. Stella, this is Y/N, to whom I was engaged when I was fucking you!

You flash her a quick, not too honest smile and it seems like she is catching onto that something is not right, but she can’t tell for sure.

“What are you doing here?” Keith asks, a little harsher than you would have liked him to talk to you, but it’s kind of understandable. Seeing each other after what happened is not a pleasant experience for either of you, you assume. You hold up the camera as the answer for the stupid question and Keith furrows his eyebrows at you. “Oh, you still to the photography thingy?”

“Thingy?” you ask, quite offended. Keith always belittled your love for photography. He thought it was just a hobby, something that should stay just a hobby and not get turned into anything more. He once told you during a fight that it takes your time away from more important things, like doing chores. That was one of the most sexist things he has ever said to you and you should have packed your stuff right then and there. But you didn’t, stuck around for three more months before you found out about the cheating.

“Well, this thingy is kind of a side job for me,” you inform him.

“Oh. That sounds… fun,” he nods, but it’s clearer than daylight that he thinks it’s just a waste of time. Good thing he has no business in anything about you anymore.

“Um, I’m gonna go now, but I guess see you two around.” You shoot them another fake smile before turning around and walking away from this conversation straight from Hell.

Marching away from the barn you rush into the nearest bathroom you can find. You need a minute. Or maybe two… five. This did not just happen. You didn’t just face your cheating ex-fiancé with the woman he cheated on you, what kind of sick movie plot is this you found yourself in?

Placing your camera to the counter near the sink you wash your hands and sprinkle some water to your face as well before you lean to the edge of the sink, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You look like you’ve just seen a ghost and quite frankly, you would have been happier with the ghost than with Keith and Stella.

You’ve been doing alright since the breakup, but it’s obvious that only because you didn’t have to see Keith. Following the blowup when you found the explicit texts in his phone, you only had to face him twice and never since then. It’s easier to be okay when you don’t have to look at the person who hurt you most all the time, but coming face to face with him now really threw you off, especially with Stella on his arm. The fucker did not only cheat on you with her, but he went straight into a relationship with her and she probably doesn’t even know that she was just the sidechick in the beginning. If you were really evil, you’d go up to her and enlighten her about who you really are, but you are not one to cause a scene. Keith kept the two of you apart consciously, he never let you go into his office because he wanted Stella to think that he is a single man while he was engaged. Sickening to think how slyly he played the both of you and even after his little plan failed, he kept lying to the poor girl and lured her into a relationship. You wonder if he is already fucking another girl behind her back.

Your fingers start to turn white, gripping the edge of the sink tightly so you loosen up a bit, shaking your arms and shoulders off to pull yourself together. You fix your makeup and run your fingers through your hair quickly to give it some volume before grabbing the camera from the counter and heading out. However shocking it is to be at the same place as Keith again, you have a job to do right now and the bride and groom are expecting some amazing photos and that’s exactly what you’re gonna deliver.

You manage to busy yourself to the point where you are able to forget about Keith’s existence for most of the time. Following the happy couple around you don’t get too much free time, the camera is glued in front of your face basically and it brings you some peace. For a while.

Emily and Jesse disappear for an outfit change and it gives you a short break since they didn’t want that to be photographed, only when they return. So you get yourself a virgin cocktail from the bar and head outside to get some fresh air. You text back Heather and Trevor and then just scroll through Instagram, enjoying some alone time from the buzzing you’ve been around all day.

“Y/N!”

Turning to your right you spot Keith walking towards you, this time alone, but it doesn’t stop you from rolling your eyes.

“What do you want?” you mumble under your breath.

“Just… though we could chat for a little. It’s been a long time.”

“Not enough,” you retort. “And I would like to skip the chatting.”

“Come on, you can’t be still that mad at me,” he chuckles and you almost punch him in the face right then and there.

“Well I am. So go back to your little girlfriend and leave me alone.”

“I know things didn’t end too well, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be civil towards each other.” You can’t help the laughter that bubbles from your throat. He can’t be serious, trying to act like the bigger person now after everything he has done to you. This has got to be a joke.

“This is me being civil, because I’m not throwing anything at you. So leave me the fuck alone, let me do my job and then we hopefully don’t see each other again.”

“Come on. You don’t miss me, baby?” he smirks at you, completely ignoring what you just told him. You physically cringe at the pet name he just called you and you take a step away from him, needing the distance more than ever.

“I don’t. Now leave.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Too fucking bad. Now leave!” you raise your voice, but it does nothing. He is still standing there, looking at you like he didn’t completely destroy you just about a year ago.

“Heard that you haven’t dated anyone since we broke up.”

“Are you asking around after me?” you scowl.

“We have a few mutual friends,” he shrugs. “Is it because you still want me?”

“My dating life is none of your business, Keith. And I don’t want you. Quite frankly, I don’t even know how I could ever want you, so now please let me enjoy my break and leave me alone.”

“Y/N, I just—“ Keith reaches for your hand, but you pull back before he could touch you, holding up a finger at him you start talking slowly and very clearly so the message goes through.

“Don’t ever fucking touch me or talk to me. I want nothing to do with you, you’re a manipulating, cheating, egoistic asshole who ruins the life of others. I’m telling you this for the last time, Keith: leave me the fuck alone.”

He looks a bit stunned at your harsh response, but you couldn’t care less if you’ve hurt him. He did way worse things to you than snapping at you. As you walk past him to head back into the barn, he doesn’t let the chance to punch you in the stomach with his words one last time.

“I wish I could say you were a good fuck, but that wouldn’t be true. Good luck finding some lowlife loser who would even think about marrying you!”

Every fiber in your body is screaming to launch yourself at him and punch him until he is unconscious, because that’s exactly what he deserves. The tears are already stinging your eyes, but you don’t give him the satisfaction to see you react to his words. So swallowing hard you just keep on walking until you are out of his sight, bottling up the sobs and tears for the time when you’re home and on your own.

It’s past two am when you arrive home, drained and exhausted, both emotionally and exhausted. Following the conversation you had wit Keith he didn’t try to talk to you anymore, but you could always feel his eyes on you, wherever you were, as if he wanted to see if you are watching him too, but you weren’t. Looking at him would have been too painful so you tried your best to keep your eyes away from him through the night.

You know damn well that what he told you when you were leaving was just to get a reaction out of you, to get you upset enough to start a fight with him, it’s just who he is, he enjoys having the last word and the higher ground in every situation, but you didn’t want to be his partner in his stupid games this time. However it still hurt, what he said.

Walking into the dead silent house you kick your shoes off, drop your keys into the little bowl next to the door and head to the kitchen to get yourself some water. Pouring yourself a glass you lean against the counter and as you stare ahead of you, nothing can stop the tears from falling.

Everything you kept bottled up during the afternoon and evening just hits you all at once, making you break down heavier than any time in the past months. You sob and cry, letting it all out until your head feels like exploding, but you still can’t stop. You were not ready to face the man that broke your heart like no one before.

In the middle of your breakdown you don’t even realize the footsteps coming from the stairs.

“Y/N?” Harry’s voice calls out, snapping you out of your pity party. He immediately sees that you’ve been crying like a baby, no doubt, but you still try to wipe your cheeks and eyes, pretending like everything is totally fine.

“Harry! What are you doing up so late?” you breathe out hoarsely.

“Just wanted to get some water, but have you been crying? What happened, are you alright?” he starts bombarding you with questions, clearly worried about you, seeing you in this state.

“Everything is fine, I just… had a rough night,” you chuckle through your tears that are still rolling down your cheeks, those bastards!

“A rough night doesn’t make you sob like this. What happened?” Rounding the kitchen island he stops in front of you, not sure how to approach the situation, but it’s kind of sweet how he wants to help, but doesn’t know how.

“I, uhh—I met my… ex-fiancé tonight. He was at the wedding I worked at,” you mumble shutting your eyes closed.

“Did he hurt you? Y/N, if he laid a hand on you, I swear—“ “No, he didn’t hurt me,” you shake your head before adding: “Well, not physically.”

“Come on, let’s sit down for a bit.” He gently takes your hand and pulls you to the couch in the living room, making you sit before he plops down next to you. “Tell me what happened.”

“It’s really stupid, I shouldn’t be this upset about it, but I just… It hurt and I can’t change it,” you whine, wiping some more tears away.

“I’m sure it’s not stupid. Tell me what happened!”

“He was there with the woman he cheated on me with. They are basically a couple now, but she doesn’t even know that Keith was engaged to me when they started dating, so it’s really fucked up. And it wouldn’t have been that big of a deal, because, you know, fuck him, he can do whatever he wants, it’s not my business anymore, but then he came up to me and tried to chitchat with me, which I didn’t really want, of course.”

Harry listens carefully, giving you his undivided attention while you fumble with the hem of your shirt, kind of avoiding to look him in the eyes. Part of you is afraid you’d see judgment in them and you don’t think you would be able to handle that.

“I asked him to leave me alone, but he just kept talking and then I snapped at him a little harsher and when I was walking away he…”

You scowl again, hearing his words play in your head so clearly, as if he was standing behind you, repeating them to you. Harry reaches out and he gently covers your hand with his warm palm, giving it a gentle squeeze, letting you know that he is patiently waiting, not rushing you to talk. Taking a deep breath you blink your tears away before continuing.

“He basically said that I wasn’t even a good fuck and no man will want to marry me.”

“Jesus fuck, what kind of asshole did you date, Y/N?” Harry snaps in horror and it’s kinda funny, makes you laugh through your tears.

“Seems like the worst kind,” you mumble with a bitter chuckle. “I know I shouldn’t have let his words get to my head, but… it’s easier said than done. I feel like such a loser,” you breathe out, your lips trembling as the tears are threatening to flow again.

“Don’t blame yourself for having feelings, it’s completely normal. Of course his words hurt, he once meant a lot to you and he probably knows that too, that’s why he tried to use it against you. What he said held no truth.”

“You think so?” you ask, voice barely more than just a whisper as you finally look at him. His green irises appear so warm as he smiles at you, squeezing your hand again. He scoots a little closer, his knee bumping against the side of your thigh.

“Y/N, I know so,” he chuckles. “That guy was a proper idiot for what he did to you. You didn’t deserve any of that and any many would be lucky to have you as their wife.”

“Really?” you pout, feeling so touched and loved from his words. It’s exactly the reassurance you needed.

“Absolutely,” he nods smiling sweetly.

Everything that happened today messed with your head big time. And now sitting with Harry on the couch, listening to him telling you how worthy you are of love and happiness, it completely throws you off. Ever since that moment in the kitchen before Gemma walked in, you’ve been nonstop thinking about what would have happened and it made you notice even the tiniest things about him.

Harry Styles is a man who is clearly a sight for the eyes, with his chiseled jawline, pink lips and gorgeous green eyes, the duality of his powerful and business appropriate attires he wears during the day and the tattoos hidden under his dress shirts, you’d have to be blind to say that he is not an attractive man. But on top of everything on the outside, he is a wonderful person on the inside and it twists your head more than you’d like it.

Your brain switches off for a moment, or just the rational side, but you completely stop thinking as you stare at each other. The intimacy and emotionality of the moment pushes all your common sense to the side as your gaze wanders down his lips.

The thought of kissing him comes fast and before you could even stop yourself, you move forward and press your lips to his. The touch of his lips against yours is sweet and warm and kind of intoxicating, but in just a blink of the eye your rationality gets a grip of you and your eyes pop open in realization of what you just did. Pulling back you gasp and cover your mouth in shock, feeling your whole inside trembling at the thought of getting yourself fired by this move.

Harry seems frozen and quite shocked as well, his lips are parted as he stays still in his spot.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I-I don’t know what’s gotten into me! Harry, I’m sorry, I promise—“

You start rambling in panic, but you don’t get to finish. Harry moves forward, his hand coming to the back of your head as he pulls you in for another kiss, this time making it a lot more passionate and even your tongues get involved. He is kissing you hard and you almost moan into his mouth when you feel his other hand come to your thigh, squeezing it just enough to send a shockwave up your spine. Your hands come up to the back of his hair and you hold onto him for dear life, carrying the kiss on like you’re two teenagers in your parents’ basement, doomed to get caught any moment. Harry goes in again and again, tugging on your bottom lip, licking into your mouth and making your insides twist just from having his lips on yours.

And then you both let go of each other, needing some time to breathe and you slowly realize what just happened. You both stare at each other in disbelief, completely shocked at your own actions, but neither of you have any idea what should happen next.

You let go of each other, sitting back to your normal positions, awkwardly breathing heavily and you realize you cannot deal with this right now. You are way too drained and tired to make it make sense so you decide to just… call it a night.

“I’ll head to bed,” you quietly inform him as you stand up from the couch, walking like a zombie, the shock still clouding your judgment.

“Good night,” Harry mumbles, just as confused as you are.

“Good night,” you nod and basically sprint up the stairs and don’t stop until you shut your door behind you.

Leaning your back against it, you slide down to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as you stare into the darkness for long minutes. Quite some time passes by before you hear Harry walk upstairs, his door opens and then closes before silence falls on the house again. With a blank mind, you push yourself up, take a quick shower and just go to bed, ignoring everything that has happened today. You’ll deal with it in the morning.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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[deanstead]

Stalked

Pairing: Kelly Severide x Reader

Requested by anon: Could I get 13 and 19 on the prompt list, please! Kelly x reader where the reader is a bartender at Molly’s and ends up with a stalker. Maybe a sprinkle of Jay helping out, too.

Warnings: mentions of stalking, anxiety, mild cursing

A/N: Prompts were meant for drabbles but…. It became too long to be labelled as a drabble so tagging this as a one-shot but I used the prompts! Just felt there needed to be a bit of a build-up for a stalker backstory. Hope you like it! Would also love to hear what you think!

---

You had been getting the feeling that you were being followed for the past few weeks.

There were just a few moments in your day when you felt that you were being watched. It started off at Molly’s when you were pulling your bartending shift, the hairs on the back of your neck had stood but you couldn’t pinpoint it in a crowded bar.

Yet during the past few weeks, it had progressively gotten more frequent. You hadn’t told anyone about it yet because there was nothing to tell. There wasn’t a stranger you saw frequently. Molly’s was usually full of firefighters from 51 or police officers and detectives from 21, or even the medical staff from Med. But no one jumped out at you so you didn’t mention anything to anyone.

You felt it again as you walked the short distance from Molly’s to your apartment building after finishing your shift but you shook it off. Maybe you were too tired.

You jogged up the stairs, squinting when you noticed a package sitting in front of your door.

You smiled. Kelly must have left something for you. You turned, looking up and down the empty corridor. The only thing that smelt a little funky was that Kelly usually left a note or stuck around.

You flipped open the box, frowning at the contents.

What the hell was this?

You stood in front of your door, picking up the stack of photos inside the box. Photos of you – laughing at Molly’s, at the store, at the pharmacy, photos through the window of this very apartment. Photos that you were now sure weren’t from Kelly.

The box dropped to the ground with a clang, the photos slipping from your fingers and scattering onto the floor. You took a shaky step backwards.

You didn’t even realise your hands were shaking until you fumbled with the clasp on your bag to try to call Kelly.

There were just two rings before he answered. “Hello?”

You swallowed, trying to steady your voice before speaking.

“Y/N?” Kelly’s voice again.

“Kelly…” You failed at keeping your voice steady, your voice breaking a little as you called out his name.

“Babe? What’s wrong?” Kelly had picked up on your shaky voice immediately.

“Kelly… something… someone…” Your brain was fogging up.

You could hear Kelly moving around. “Where are you?” When you didn’t respond immediately, Kelly pressed again. “Y/N, where are you?”

“Outside my apartment.” You finally found the words.

“Don’t move. I’ll be right there, okay? Stay there.” Kelly instructed before he hung up.

---

You weren’t sure how long it was you had been there. Once the line had gone dead, you had sunk to the floor, drawing your knees close to your chest, your head down. The box was lying open in front of you, the photographs scattered around. You only looked up again when you heard footsteps, followed closely by Kelly’s voice.

“Y/N!” Kelly called, making a beeline for you.

“You okay?” He demanded. You nodded your head but looped your arms around Kelly, pushing your face into his chest.

You felt Kelly reach over to hold you before you heard a third person’s voice. “Let me clear the house.”

You hadn’t even noticed that Jay was with Kelly.

“Kelly, we’re good.” Jay nodded, tossing your keys back to Kelly. You hadn’t even noticed that Kelly had taken them from you.

“Come on.” Kelly helped you up and guided you inside, Jay following close behind. Before long, Kelly was pushing a hot cup of tea into your hands as Jay pored over the box.

“No promises but I’ll try to pull security footage, maybe we can even dust for prints.” Jay said, glancing over at Kelly.

“Thanks for coming over with me.” Kelly said, getting up.

“Don’t sweat it, Kelly.” Jay smiled.

You looked up. “Thanks Jay.” You smiled.

“You hang in there, okay? I’ll do what I can.” Jay called, waving as he left.

“I can stay here tonight.” Kelly said, as the door closed behind Jay. You didn’t say anything but reached for his hand and he smiled, kissing the back of your hand.  

---

It had been a month and a half since the box had shown up on your door and then nothing.

The best Jay could come up with was that it was a white guy in his thirties, wearing a hoodie and baseball cap. The cameras caught nothing and there were no prints they could match him to.

“Everything’s been okay, though?” Jay asked, as you slid him his drink.

You nodded, “Yeah, it’s been quiet.”

Jay nodded. “Hey, you know if you need anything…”

You smiled, “Thanks Jay. Drink’s on me.”

He smiled, raising his glass in thanks as you wandered off to restock the supplies.

By the time you had finished tidying storage, Molly’s was almost empty, save for a few more people from 51. “Hey Y/N, you can take off early. There’s not much to do, I can handle it.” Herrmann called as you walked out.

“You sure?” You asked, scanning the room. “We’re not exactly closed yet.”

Herrmann smiled. “Yeah, go on.”

“Thanks Herrmann!” You called, going for your bag.

You dialled Kelly’s number but it went straight to voicemail. It still wasn’t late, technically Herrmann was letting you finish shift early. You sent Kelly a quick text to meet you straight at your apartment and calling out byes, slipped out the back door.

You were halfway to your apartment when your phone rang.

“Y/N, I told you I’d pick you up.” Kelly said, the moment you picked up the phone.

You sighed, “Kelly, I’m almost home. I’m just around the corner, I just…” You were cut off midsentence by someone grabbing you and you gave a short yelp before you dropped your phone and got pulled into the adjacent alley.

---

Kelly sighed as he heard you justify why you had left the bar early. He knew this was coming, he just didn’t expect it to be this soon. You had always been feisty and independent, so he knew you’d start to let your guard down soon.

“I’m just around the corner, I just…” There was a pause before you gave a short yelp.

“Y/N!” Kelly called but the line had already gone dead.

Fuck.

Kelly fumbled with his keypad as he ran down the street. “Jay, I think she’s in trouble, one street over from Molly’s. I need your help.”

Kelly pumped his legs, pushing himself faster down the street. It had always seemed like a short street when he had walked you home but now it didn’t feel so short.

---

You had the breath knocked out of you as you were thrown against the concrete wall in the alley, your head hitting the wall with a clang, stars dancing in front of your vision.

“Now, no one can tear us apart.” A voice drawled in your ear. You could feel someone hovering above you, his hot breath tickling your ear, as his hand found your neck.

You could feel the bile rise in your throat. You had no idea who this person was, or what they wanted. All you knew for sure was that he was the owner of that creepy box you had received and he was way too close to you.

You had a scream stuck in your throat and you struggled to get it out. You needed to get it out or Kelly would never be able to find you.

“Hey!”

You sank to the ground as you felt his hold on you loosen.

Kelly’s face contorted into a look of rage as he looked down the alley. Without pausing, Kelly pounced, pushing the man off of you. He saw you sink to the ground out of the corner of his eye but turned his attention back to the man in front of him.

Kelly could feel his heart pumping in his chest as he landed a punch on the man’s face. The man threw a punch, causing Kelly to stumble backwards but Kelly threw himself forward again, pushing him deeper into the alley, so as to put as much distance as he could between you and the man.

Kelly threw another punch, knocking the man off his feet. Kelly growled but this time heard footsteps.

“Kelly!” Kelly stepped backwards, avoiding a kick from the man who lay on the gorunf before Jay came running up. 

“Don’t move.” Jay snarled, taking out his gun.

Jay glanced at Kelly who was now holding onto this guy on the ground firmly, before holstering his gun and bending down to take over and handcuff the man. “I got this.”

Kelly nodded and hurried back to where you were sitting on the ground.

“Y/N?” Kelly approached, noticing the way you stiffened as he reached out for you. “Babe?”

You snapped your head up as you tried to shrink further backwards. “Y/N, it’s me. It’s me. It’s okay.”

You finally saw him, Kelly standing over you, his hand stretching out towards you. “Kelly?” Your voice shook a little.

Kelly bent to your level. “Baby, breathe. Just breathe, okay?”

You took a shuddering breath; a breath you didn’t know you had been holding as Kelly pressed you into him. “That’s my girl.” He whispered.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” Kelly whispered, as you heard the sirens.

“Kelly, We’ll take him in. You think she’s up for a statement?” Jay’s voice now.

Kelly hesitated but you looked up. “I can talk to Jay.” You said, although you hadn’t loosened your hold on Kelly.

Jay nodded, “Kelly can stay with you. I just need an official witness statement, okay?”

You recounted as much as you could remember to Jay, glad that it was Jay who was taking your statement. A friendly face, someone you knew you could trust.

“Thanks Jay. I…”

Jay smiled, reaching in to squeeze your shoulder reassuringly.

---

Kelly had gotten you back to your apartment, and you were now sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket.

“Hey, you doing okay?” Kelly asked, coming down to eye level with you.

You smiled and nodded. “Now, I am.”

You reached for Kelly’s hand. Kelly took your hand in his and sank into the couch next to you, gently pulling you towards him and holding you close, planting a kiss on your temple..

“Can you stay? You make me feel safe.” You whispered.

Kelly didn’t respond immediately, instead just tightening his arms around you. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

You closed your eyes as Kelly shifted to make you more comfortable. “Kelly, I…”

“I know.” He whispered, “Me too.”

---

KELLY SEVERIDE TAGLIST

@keenmarvellover | @securityfriendly-jay | @winterberryfox | @bestillmystuckyheart​

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[thorin-is-a-cuddler]

Archive of laughter

A/N: Natasha realizes that Clint’s motivation is at a new low and tries to shift his mind away from the present. When he accidentally offers her the perfect method for doing so, she does not hesitate. Set in the What if… episode 1x08 with post-apocalyptic Clintasha vibes. I missed them.

2766 words

„Ughhhh.“

„…“

„Hngggh.“

„…“

„Aw man aw man aw man.“

Natasha looked up from the sheets in her hands with a reprimanding look in her eyes. „Clint!“

„What?“ With a sour expression he sent her a glare over his metal shoulder from where he stood in front of a gigantic shelf, stacked with boxes full of documents. „If I don’t get to bitch about this, I doubt I’ll live through it.“

Natasha’s annoyed countenance made room for worry when she saw how large the shadows under Clint’s eyes were. How dark and hopeless they looked over the left-over shelves of the Archive. Hundreds of them, holding God knew how many files they had to look through to find answers.

It wasn’t like Clint was being dramatic. He was at the limit of his strength, at the far corner of his already fragile mental stability after years of running, hiding, bleeding and grieving. After years of trying to endure the fact that him and Natasha were, as far as they were informed, the last two living beings not only of their planet, but of the entire universe. After Ultron had destroyed everything and everyone else.

Natasha knew what he felt like, knew how hard it could get to keep it together, to not succumb to madness. Especially when faced with an enormous Russian Archive stacked with billion sheets of paper that may or may not offer them a solution in a single printed line or a minimal percentage of about 0,0001 percent of the files at hand.

She could see the horror Clint was experiencing in connection to the possibly hopeless workload that lay ahead of them and she was scared of the thoughts that were currently running through his mind, unseen, pondering dark questions and possibilities she did not dare to even consider.

She had to do something.

Slowly she lowered the files she held in her hands and stared at Clint’s back while he was already busy flipping through boxes again, his head hanging almost as low as his shoulders.

„Hey,“ she gently addressed him, making him stop and look over his shoulder again. Such tired blue eyes. She’d never seen them look this tired before. „Clint, I promise, this will be worth the effort. We will find something that will make all this go away again. Something that will defeat Ultron. I know it.“

His eyes lingered on her for a few moments longer, sadness reflected inside them. Then he turned around again, his shoulders as heavy as before. „Yeah. Sure.“

Now Natasha’s shoulders slumped down as well.

No, no, no, she could not leave him be this way, she could not let this slip and act as if everything was a-okay. She was acting cheerful for the sake of the both of them. But she knew it wouldn’t be good for anything if Clint continued faking smiles and showcasing his I-have-no-hope-left-but-I’ll-do-this-for-you expression.

He didn’t want to worry her. Which was the exact reason why she was so worried.

„Clint?“ She tried again, smiling, despite his loud sigh as he put his box away and turned around another time to face her. With one hand resting on the shelf to support himself he looked at her, softly, despite his obvious frustration. „Yes?“

„Can you imagine that we once thought being caught in an airvent for two days was basically the worst?“

Something in Clint’s posture changed at that. He opened his eyes a bit more and suddenly huffed a short laugh, nodding at her words. „Yeah. Two days. How laughable that seems now.“

„It sure does. But we made the most of it, didn’t we? How did we keep ourselves distracted back then?“ 
Clint pushed himself away from the shelf with a smile, his thoughts obviously shifting from the dark corner of his mind to a brighter one. Natasha’s smile widened.

„Well, you took an awful load of time to find out that I repeatedly wrote the same word during our Hangman matches.“

Natasha had to laugh out loud at that. „Okay, to my own defense: I did not yet know how stupid you actually were back then!“

„Touché,“ Clint grinned, the shadows under his eyes vanishing slightly. „You did find out about quite a few things while we were hiding out up there. The worst part being that you discovered how ticklish I was. Not exactly fun times for me.“

Natasha smirked at the memory. „Oh no, those were actually reeeeally fun times for you. I remember you laughing incessantly in fact.“

„Do you now?“ Clint squinted his eyes at her in mock anger, a warning spark shooting through them.

„Especially when I tickled you in that one particular spot… where was that again? I think you actually begged for me to stop when I got you th-“

„Tz, shut up!“

Natasha gasped in fake indignation as Clint suddenly turned his back to her, his voice altering to a slightly more embarrassed tone and his hand waving her off, as if to tell her not to dwell on it too much. Of course, that was, in her opinion, the most adorable reaction he could have possibly chosen and she would now dwell on it even more than before. Slowly she moved out of her cross-legged position on the floor, threateningly wiggling her fingertips around. Wasn’t this actually the perfect way to cheer up her favorite person in the world? Why hadn’t she thought of this before?

„Wait, I think I actually do remember. Would you mind if we test this memory, just to make sure-“

„Now is not the time, Natasha.“ He gently tried to reason with her, a meaningful look in his blue eyes when he shortly turned his head around to glance at her.

Natasha lowered her hands. But a teasing smirk remained on her face. „The time for what?“ Clint tried to appear unimpressed by her attempt to make him say it. He seemed determined not to step into her trap this time. Not after all those times he’d already made that mistake.

„You’re not gonna make me say it.“

„Say what, Clint?“

Natasha noticed that he kept looking over his shoulder ever so slightly, as she started approaching him, taking note of her sneakily coming closer. The smallest smile played around the corners of his lips.

„I said you’re not gonna make me say it.“

Natasha felt a wave of happiness course through her stomach at the way Clint’s voice altered ever so slightly. He was smiling, she could tell. Now she was going to make him laugh.

Clint sighed as Natasha came to a halt right behind him. By now he had to be able to feel her breath on the back of his neck.

Natasha’s fingertips were itching to search for some ticklish spots.

„Don’t!“ He said gently, without any conviction whatsoever, the small smile still audible in his words.

„Don’t what, Clint?“ Natasha asked again, her hands slowly nearing his sides from behind.

Clint sighed, his shoulders moving up and down. It was a sigh of defeat. The sigh of someone who had accepted his own fate. Probably already had on the day he’d met her. A fate filled with being Natasha’s favorite victim. She could feel anticipation surge within her as Clint tried to mentally prepare himself for the consequences of his actions. Or rather of her actions.

„Tickle me!“ He submitted with a slightly panicked ring to his voice.

And Natasha didn’t allow him a moment to second guess. „My pleasure.“

Clint was on his knees in no time, dropping the files he’d held in his hands and throwing his head back against the awful feeling spreading on his sides. He instinctively tried to press his elbows to his sides to limit the access for Natasha’s ticklish scratches but she easily wormed her way past his defenses, making his suppressed groans turn into giggles effortlessly.

„NO!“ He huffed, trying to bend over more, further away from her, giggling madly as Natasha’s fingers managed to weasle their way under his arms to scratch at his ribs. „Noho plehease!! Tasha!!“

Natasha chuckled triumphantly and tried to climb her fingertips up higher, tried to get them past his ribcage to wiggle them right into his most ticklish spots, right under his arms. But Clint was trying his utmost to keep her from reaching that spot.

„You are saying no, but you asked me to do this, remember?“ Natasha teased, chuckling when Clint tried to snarl at her, with the emphasis on „tried to“ since any possible effect fell flat due to his laughter mixing in loudly.

„Stahahhaap I mean it!!!“ Clint barked when she suddenly pulled her hands away from his ribs to sling her arms around his chest and pull him down on his back, trying to climb on top of him to pin him down properly. He had to laugh at her antics as he in return tried to grab a hold of her arms or legs or basically any part of her body to have a minimal chance of coming out of this without ridiculing himself senseless.

He didn’t stand a chance though, for his bones and muscles already had to start feeling like useless goo, his laughter wouldn’t seize and he couldn’t see properly through his closed eyes. Natasha couldn’t stop smiling either as she could witness all the beauty of Clint melting underneath her touch - into a tiny puddle of giggles and shrieks.

„No no NOO!! AHahaha GET OHOHFF MEE!!!“ Clint yelled when she accidentally pushed a knee in his stomach in their grappling for the upperhand, resulting in her managing to sit on his hips properly, keeping him down where she wanted to keep him.

„Youhohu fohohoul cheheeater!!“ He laughed when her fingertips started crawling up his sides again and he only had limited space for flailing and turning anymore, his laughetr sounding deeper and more breathless already.

„Cheater? Really? What, just because I hit you here?“ She questioned, making him choke on his laughter when she scribbled her fingers on his stomach.

„Dohohon’t!“ He shrieked, hitting his head against the floor by accident and laughing even more in the aftermath. „IT TICKLES!!“

„I know, honey, it’s why you’re laughing!“ Natasha explained in a playful voice, before she had to free her wrists from one of his iron defensive grips in protection of his upper body, which didn’t stop her for long as she merely had to lean down to blow a raspberry on his unprotected neck, making Clint who had not expected this at all squeal with laughter.

„TH-THAHAT’S NOT ALLOWED!!“ He argued, letting go of her hands and trying to push her away from himself again, laughing helplessly when her fingers were back on their way up his ribs in no time. „Stahahap it already!!!“

„No! We haven’t yet tested my memory!“

„It’s my armpits!! I prhohohomise!! No need for tests, rehehheally!! rEHEHEALLY!!“

Clint kicked out as hard as he could behind Natasha’s back as she managed to wiggle her fingertips the slightest bit underneath his biceps and metal arm to get at the sensitive spots. She smirked and tried to distract Clint by blowing air into his face, chuckling when she saw him squeeze his eyes shut even more. „StAHHAP THAT!!“

„Come on, lemme! Just for a second!“

„Nohoho wahahay!!“

Clint’s laughter was flowing completely freely by then. He had seemingly let go of all things depressing for just this small amount of time, giving in to the unrelenting ticklish feeling and not trying to fight his own laughter anymore. Natasha hadn’t seen him this carefree in years.

She could not stop now, where she was seconds away from making him lose all track of thought. Just for a little while. Determined she moved up a little further on his body, sitting down on his upper stomach and almost making his eyes pop out by the sudden shifts of weight. He couldn’t form a coherent complaint though, since Natasha quickly moved her hands behind her back to dance her fingers down his sides, that were now completely at her mercy due to their new position.

„NHOHOO!! Nohoohoho!! stAHHAHP!! I can’t bREHEHEATHE!!!“ Clint’s eyes were shining from his laughter by now, the bright blue of his iris taking Natasha’s breath away. She grinned at his futile attempts to get a grip of her hands and took this opportunity to push her knees up further, blocking Clint’s ability to defend his armpits any further. He realized this immediately and barked out a single „SHIT!“ before her fingers attacked, making him arch his back and give in to a defeated laughter that came straight from his belly and sounded deeper and richer than all the sounds he’d already made. He couldn’t get another word in, as his laughter kept pouring out of him, merely started shaking his head around and kicking out less than before.

Natasha smiled fondly as she listened to his hearty laughter, the one she hadn’t heard in so long and saw how it brightened up his features.

„I think this proves it alright.“ She chuckled, removing her fingers from his armpit to allow him a breather before she evilly snuck them in again.

„NO NO NO PLEHEHEASE!! STAHAHP!!“ Clint barked out, his laughter sounding a tad bit hysterical as he tried to move out of his fatal position now. But Natasha immediately stopped at his request and gently shifted back to sitting on his hips, allowing his arms to cover his ampits again.

She chuckled softly as he gasped for air, noisily, sounding as if he’d just ran a marathon, his head falling back to the ground. She put her hands on his stomach and grinned when he flinched underneath her touch, gently patting the spot in an offer of peace.

„No more tickling, I promise.“

Clint sighed in relief and moved his head up to look at her again. They glared at each other for a little while, before they both had to laugh - about each other, about themselves, about the fact that they had just done this in the midst of an apocalypse.

Clint groaned and tried to stop chuckling with a pained expression. „Ah, I can’t laugh no more. My stomach will explode!“

„What can I say, Clint, you asked for this!“ Natasha smirked, chuckling when Clint squinted his eyes at her dangerously.

„Oh, you better watch it! I know that you’re not immune to this either!“ Clint tried to poke her in the side, but Natasha snatched his wrist and held on tightly.

„You wouldn’t stand a chance!“

Clint grinned at her, a grin she hadn’t seen in quite a while.

„I’ll attack when you least expect it!“ He purred in a voice that sent a goosebump down Natasha’s arm. Damn, she’d missed this Clint.

„I’ll always expect it then,“ she retorted and stuck her tongue out at him, getting back to her feet and offering him a hand but dropping it again before he could reach for it. Clint chuckled at that. Slowly he pushed himself off the ground as well to get back to where he’d been so rudely interrupted previously.

With his hands on his hips he looked over the shelves of the Archive and sighed. „If you keep doing things like that, we’ll never be done here.“ Clint remarked, bending over to pick up the files he’d dropped earlier.

Natasha waited until he was standing upright again, before she took a step closer to him and threw her arms around him. Clint gasped in surprise, the files flying from his hand to the floor. With a tired huff, he ignored the mess and gently wrapped his arms around Natasha as well. She could feel his warm breath on her head and snuggled closer to his chest.

„It’ll be okay,“ Clint suddenly whispered, stealing her line. She moved her head away from his chest in surprise to look at him. He was smiling, nodding - and she realized that it was all she’d needed from him: reassurance.

She turned her lips into a thin line and nodded as well, a weak smile on her face.

„It will be,“ she agreed, meaning to move away from him and get back to work. But his grip tightened around her. She looked up in horror.

„You didn’t expect that.“ He smirked and Natasha could not believe that he had turned the tables this sneakily until he lifted her into the air, threw her over his shoulder and tickled her sides until her laughter and her fists to his back grew weaker.

[sxfik]

you're the sunshine in the rain when it's pouring (won't you give yourself to me?)

read on ao3 • masterlist

summary: Kang Sol A was not afraid, she wasn’t built to be afraid. But what else could you call the pang that rippled through her heart as she noticed the two figures huddled at the cafe near the entrance of her school?

a/n: hello! this is my first solhwi fic i've written and if i'm being honest, it's kind of a mess but i have so many ideas for them, especially after these last few episodes! honestly, the two of them are the epitome of idiots to lovers so i just had to write this! the title of this fic is from best part by Daniel Ceasar ft. H. E. R.

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Kang Sol A was not afraid.

She wasn’t afraid during her yearly doctor’s appointment, the glint of the long needle threatening to pierce through her. She wasn’t afraid when she stood up for her sisters, time and time again, until she was beaten and bruised protecting them. In the face of any adversity, she was taught to stand strong and fight, no matter how big or small the enemy. Even at the face of losing her scholarship and being expelled from Hankuk Law School, she knew she could pull herself up.

No, Kang Sol A was not afraid, she wasn’t built to be afraid. But what else could you call the pang that rippled through her heart as she noticed the two figures huddled at the cafe near the entrance of her school?

It’s been a week since Ye Seul’s trial, five days since the incident, and four days since she started avoiding Mr. Second Round Judicial Exam, Han Joon Hwi.

His presence was bearable prior to Ye Seul’s trial. Actually, more than bearable. It was a comfort, a person she knew she could let her guard down with. His teasing smiles or his love for ramen at any time of day.  As her days and her mind got busier day by day, his presence was unyielding. Every late night in the library, he was by her side, explaining the codes over and over again. Even when she got frustrated, or whiny, Joon Hwi was infinitely patient with her. With Joon Hwi by her side, everything seemed so easy. She saw the light at the end of the long tunnel she was dragged through. Still, with Kang Dan’s sudden appearance, Mr. Yang and Ye Seul’s trial, her mind was too busy to think clearly. To see clearly.

But when his gaze shifted to her and her roommate when he stood as a witness during Ye-Seul’s trial, her breath caught in her throat as she imagined, just for a moment, that he was going to say her name. That he was looking at her. That he was in love with her.

It was as if something clicked, like the puzzle pieces coming together in her mind. In an instant, she saw him in such clarity, every action, every smile and gesture passing through her mind. Cliche as it seems, it was as if she saw him for the first time all over again.

But of course, that gaze was not meant for her. Why would it be? Han Joon Hwi was meant to be with Sol B, not her. The students who were born to work with the law are perfectly suited for each other. It was obvious that he wanted to protect Sol B. Yet, in her weakest moment, her heart yearned for it to be her.

Forcing herself to breathe, she continued on after the trial as if nothing had changed between them. Because, well, they haven’t. The view had shifted but only for her.  At first, it was easier than she expected, teasing him about her roommate. Sol would be lying if she said it didn’t come with a twinge of jealousy but what could she do, but continue to be loyal to him. So on she continued, with Joon Hwi blissfully unaware that she was falling deeper for him, day by day.

Of course, nothing ever goes her way. Five nights ago, Sol was seated at her usual desk at the library, the rows of desks unoccupied. It was another late night for her, as she poured over her case files for a quiz the next day. Despite being a breeze for the other students, Sol had to study for a 110% in order to score an 80%. Sol set up camp in the library, her texts haphazardly strewed across the desk, highlighter in hand, as she buckled down for a long night of studying.

As the hours passed, her vision slowly blurred, the words on the page meshing together into a blob of black squiggles. She blinked, forcing her eyes to focus but to no avail. Sighing, she shut her eyes as she slumped back into her chair, allowing her head to loll off the edge of her chair and stretching her arms out.

“Still studying?” Joon Hwi’s familiar voice startled her, her head jerking back and almost tipping her chair backwards. “Whoa, Sol, be careful!” he lunged, catching her chair before she had the chance to stabilize herself.

“Yah, Han Joon Hwi, why would you come up suddenly like that?” Sol wrinkled her nose at him in annoyance, getting a teasing smirk in response. Sol turned towards her desk, pulling herself closer to the desk as he looked over her.

“Are you studying for Professor Jung’s quiz tomorrow?” he questioned, his head tilting in a familiar way as she sighed once more.

“Of course I am. Not all of us are law geniuses like you, Mr. Second Round Judicial Exam,” Sol huffed as she looked up at him but she softened her face as she saw the smile on his face.

Joon Hwi let out a small laugh as he stepped closer to her, clapping a hand on her shoulder in reassurance. “Well, then I’d be more than qualified to help, don’t you think, sunbae?” he quipped back.

“Hey, I can do it myse-”

“Hm, let me see,”  he cut her off, his eyebrows furrowed. Her heart stuttered as he leaned forward, over her shoulder, looking onto the texts that lay in front of her. “Oh, this one isn’t as bad as the others, you should start with this and then…” he rambled on, but every once of her concentration was on his proximity. The warmth of his hand on her shoulder bleed through her shirt, the feel of his palm burning her skin. He was close enough that she could hear the soft puffs of his breath, his warmth radiating off his body pulling her body towards him like a magnet.

It’s okay, just breathe. You know how to breathe right, Sol? She slowly instructed herself on how to breathe like she suddenly had to learn all over again. And wow, was that a bad idea. His cologne is even more intoxicating up close, and so is Joon Hwi. Every one of her senses was overloaded, her mind blank save for him.

“Yah, Kang Sol? You better be paying atten-” he turned his head towards her, and she forgot how to breathe all over again. His brown eyes widened in surprise as his face just centimeters away from hers. Sol parted her lips ever so slightly to speak but his gaze dropped her lips and her mind was blank again as she blinked at him. His features were so much softer up close, as she watched his face relax. His long eyelashes brushed against his cheek as he blinked. His eyes flitted back to her, but his familiar honey eyes darkened. Her eyes drifted over his face, and then dipped down to his soft lips. If she just moved closer, she could feel how soft his lips were...

And suddenly, reality slapped her in the face. What would Sol B think if she caught her boyfriend so close to her? Even with her roommate’s cold behavior, Sol knew just how much she suffered and how much it would break her to know how she felt about Joon Hwi. Despite every molecule in her body begging her to move closer, she couldn’t do that to Sol B.

So she moved away, stuttering out some lame excuse as she gathered her books and stumbled out of the library. But as she lay in her bedroom, staring up at the ceiling as she imagined all that could have happened between them, the warmth of the memory spread across her body.

And Kang Sol A knew that she wasn’t just afraid. She was terrified.

When she couldn’t stand and fight, she did the next best thing. She ran. She intricately planned everyday to minimize her contact with him as much as possible. Obviously, step one was to sit away from him in class, to avoid his gaze in the halls. She would leave her dorm as early as possible and hide until he was finished with his dinner to sneak in and grab herself something.

But it wasn’t until she tried to avoid him that she realized just how much space in her life was occupied by him. He used to always sit next to or across from her. Always looking over her shoulder, or leaning over  to see the textbooks clearly. Every time she turned to ask a question, or make a snarky comment, there was an empty space reminding her of her decision.

Still, even if he wasn’t physically present, he occupied a corner in her mind. His voice was in her head, echoing responses to her every thought. Her mind would fill with things she wanted to rant about, to ask, to share with him. When she closes her eyes at night and drifts into sleep, he would be there, his signature teasing smile on his face.

And he didn’t seem to be making it any easier on her. It seemed that Joon Hwi took it upon himself to magically appear whenever she least expected him to. If she went to the copy room to print a case file, he was sitting there, looking through a stack of papers or in line to print a copy himself. If she decides to have a late night study session, there he is across from her, books in hand with his legs propped up on a table.

Han Joon Hwi was the constant, unavoidable presence that she can’t seem to get rid of from her life. From her mind. From her heart.

“Unnie?” a soft voice snapped Kang Sol out of her thoughts, and Ye Seul appeared in front of her, near the entrance. How long have I stood here? Sol blinked.

“Ah, Ye-Seul,” she smiled at her best friend. “Let’s have some coffee today? At the cafe?” she asked, her shoulders relaxing after flitting up to where Joon Hwi and Kang Sol B stood. Well, where they were standing. I guess they left. Ye Seul’s eyebrows furrowed as she followed Sol’s gaze but before she could respond, Sol A hooked an elbow through hers, dragging her toward the cafe.

But of course, nothing ever goes her way.

“Ah, Ye-Seul, can I borrow Kang Sol for a moment?” Joon Hwi asked, suddenly appearing in their path, his eyes strictly focused on her best friend. Sol squeezed her arm in alarm, everything in her body pleading for Ye-Seul to say no so she can just avoid him until her crush fades away.

“Unnie, buy me the coffee next time, hm?” Ye-Seul turned to her with an apologetic gaze. Betrayal. I’ll get you back for this. Sol A sighed as she turned her gaze to Joon Hwi.

“Yah, Sol, why are you avoiding me like this? Please, just talk to me so we can fix it,” he pleaded with her, wasting no time to get to the point. Sol A pursed her lips as she looked up at him, her mind too full for her to answer him. What could she say to him? That she likes him? That she’s found out how much she needs him in her life, but she was too late?

“Sol, please,” his voice broke slightly as the silence stretched between them but that was enough for her to sigh, her shoulders relaxing as she gave in to him.

“Okay,” she responded and that was all Joon Hwi needed to grab her wrist and walk towards the corridor between the stairwells.

“We can talk more privately,” he answered her before she even voiced the question. “Now, why are you mad at me? The last time I saw you was at the library and then you disappeared,” Joon hwi ran a hand through his hair nervously as he rambled on and for the first time, Kang Sol took him in. To say he was disheveled was an understatement. The usual calm demeanor was nowhere to be seen and his clothes were askew as his face showed the lack of sleep and exhaustion. Her heart clenched for him, but no, you can’t do this. You can’t betray Sol B.

“Don’t you think it’s best if we don’t interact with how we used to?” she asked, her eyes glued to the floor, ignoring her throat closing up at the thought of breaking their friendship.

“What?” his eyes zeroed in on her, and she could see the confusion running through his mind.

“What do you think Sol B would think if she saw us like this? We can’t be close like this with each other bec-”

“Who cares about how I am with you?” he cut her off, his jaw clenched as his eyebrows furrow in frustration.

“Ya Han Joon Hwi, how could you do this? I expected so much better from you. Don’t you understand, it’s terrible to do this to her!” she pleaded with him, her heart squeezing inside her chest. Sol clenched her jaw, willing herself to be strong for her roommate’s sake, for his sake, and for hers.

Silence stretched between them as she looked up to him. His eyes closed for a moment while he looked down to the floor. And then his eyes flitted up and into her eyes as his fist clenched, his brown eyes filling with an unreadable emotion. “Why is it so terrible?” he whispered.

“Why-” Sol started, her voice burning in anger and pain.

“Why is it so terrible that I’m in love with you?” Joon hwi’s eyes flickered up to hers, his gaze boring into her.

Kang Sol blinked. Her back straightened as her mouth opened and closed like a fish, as Joon Hwi took a step closer. “Me?” she stuttered out, her mind spinning, unable to process his words.

“You.” He stepped closer.

“But you like Kang Sol-”

“A. Kang Sol A.” Another step closer.

She closed her eyes as she shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts and to ignore his proximity. But all her attempts were futile as Joon Hwi brought his hand up, his touch feather light as he cupped her face, tilting it up to meet his gaze. Sol’s hands felt frozen as her breath lodged into her throat, her eyes meeting his. She could hear her heart thundering in her ribcage as Joon hwi spoke.

“I like you, Kang Sol. It’s always been you,” he whispered, his voice wavering as he grew closer, his lips just a centimeter away from hers. Never one with patience, she surged forward to meet his lips. Her imagination and dreams did not compare to how his lips felt against hers. It was soft and his kisses were just as unyielding as his presence. It was all consuming as her hands gripped his coat, pulling him closer. His thumb running across her cheekbones, he shifted his head pulling her in deeper as his hands cupped her face. Even though their lips just met for a few moments, it felt as though his soft lips were against hers for an eternity.

Sol’s eyes were still closed as they parted, not wishing to leave this moment and back into real life. Apprehensively, she met his eyes and a moment of silence stretched between them, as they caught their breath. A million watt smile stretched across his face, his contagious happiness brightening her up as she smiled back. But suddenly reality caught up to her.

“Wait, so you’re not with my roommate?” she questioned, confused about everything she had seen between them. Joon hwi shook his head.

“No, I was just with her because she asked for help during one of her legal research papers,” he explained, then paused. “Yah, wait. You avoided me this whole time because you thought I was in love with Kang Sol B?” a smirk spread across his face, his expression taunting. Sol bit her lip as she looked down, unwilling to admit her mistake.

“Yah, how can you be at law school and not figure out I liked you!” he asked, his voice incredulous.

“You were so ambiguous! Every time I thought you liked me as more than friends, you’d act close with Sol B!” she huffed out, pouting  and pulling away from him, embarrassed that she thought he liked her roommate. Before she could pull away, he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into a crushing hug. Her body relaxed as she took him in, the way he felt against her intoxicating and comforting beyond description.

Kang Sol A was terrified. But having him at her side was enough to know that she could fight once more, together, as more than friends.

[walviemort]

Fairy Godfather, part 3

Summary: The fairies have asked a monumental favor of Killian: be the surrogate for their babies—all nine of them. He’s been pregnant before, but this? This is a whole other level. What has he gotten himself into? And just how big will he get?

A/N: Another update! Thank you to @sancocnutclub​ for her continued encouragement...which will be very apparent in part 4 ;)

rated T / 2.4k words / part 1 / part 2 / AO3

Though he had just passed the first trimester mark in this oversized pregnancy, Killian was pleased to find he was not lacking in the energy department. Granted, his first pregnancy had been similar—he’d had the most energy during the second trimester, despite the increasing size of his belly.

But his belly was a fraction of the size back then. Now, at 13 weeks, it was much closer to the size he’d been at 35 weeks with Hope. But he had yet to slow down—as evidenced by his and Emma’s morning activities; he was even on top.

There was no denying his present form was bulky, but he’d been too fatigued at this size with Hope to do much but sleep and eat. That was not a problem now, and both he and Emma were reaping the benefits. Reaching orgasm while she was caressing his bump? It was impossible to describe how amazing that felt.

However, he’d hardly finished when Hope began to cry out from her nursery. As much as he was still feeling good, moving did take a bit more effort than it had. This bump also weighed as much as his last one, and was only going to get heavier; at least it hadn’t dropped yet. But it meant that Emma was still quicker to her feet than he was, and sprang up to retrieve their 13 month old before she tried to climb out of her crib on her own.

Hope finally figured out walking a month or so ago—just in time for her first birthday—and he was well aware of the comical sight he’d made at her party, chasing after her with his protruding stomach. But at least he still could, even if he got winded more quickly than he’d like. 

Tink had been snickering at him during one such moment. “Hey,” he chastised and patted the bump. “Your kid is in here, so I’d watch the mocking when it comes to running after mine.”

“That’s fair,” she’d conceded. “Just let me know when you need help, though—I’ll gladly go after the little hellion.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

They hadn’t needed her help yet, but it was only a matter of time—especially by the sound of tiny but insistent footsteps that were getting faster every day as they ran down the hallway. 

“Dada!” her little voice called out as she charged into the room and threw herself against his legs as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“How’s my little cygnet today?” he enthusiastically replied as he bent down to pick her up. He had to open his legs to make room for the bump, but it was still an achievable feat, and Hope giggled as she flew into the air and the curled in as he carefully tucked her into his side. 

After a brief cuddle, she squirmed for him to set her down on the mattress, and gave his bump a gentle pat. “Hi babies,” she said (or tried to; some of those sounds were still being worked on). She’d noticed the bump a few weeks ago, once it had really started popping out. They couldn’t tell if she actually understood what was going on—and were glad she was young enough to not have to explain it—but she was at least careful and affectionate. 

He just hoped that continued as she grew steadier on her feet—and he grew larger and less so. 

Hope tucked herself back into Killian’s side and Emma sat down on the other. “This is a pretty perfect morning,” she sighed as she laid her head in his bare shoulder. “Do I really have to go into work?”

“I’m of the same opinion—but wasn’t Tiger Lily coming for training today?” She was the fairy who’d offered to take over his deputy duties once he no longer could—and he had a hunch she'd be an acceptable long-term hire. 

“Yeah,” she complained. “Just wish it could wait another day.”

“Or,” he suggested, “we get through today and then we can spend tomorrow in a similar manner.”

“I like the way you think,” she replied, then pulled him in for a kiss. 

He set Hope down on the bed, where she proceeded to tackle the pillows, and went about the process of getting dressed. His sleep pants still fit, although they were reaching the point where they were almost too snug on his hips, which had definitely widened more than last time. 

Thankfully, his maternity jeans were as stretchy as ever, and he hadn’t yet exceeded their capacity; the elastic panel hugged his belly comfortably as he slipped them on. 

Emma had bought him a collection of soft, short-sleeved t-shirts a size larger than he typically wore, and one of those slipped on easily, but the bump still stood prominently under navy cotton. Hopefully, they made these in several larger sizes. 

They stopped at Granny’s before heading to their respective workplaces for the day, and Killian consumed a larger stack of pancakes than he’d like to admit; good thing Belle took his measurements yesterday. At least there was also a generous side of fresh fruit. 

When he and Hope arrived at the library, he was only semi-surprised to see Blue there; she seemed to be showing up once a month or so to check in, but today had another goal. 

“Would you be okay with getting an ultrasound?” she asked. 

That was shocking. “Sure,” he said, “but will it be okay for them?” he countered, rubbing his belly. Inside, they seemed to be fluttering nervously. 

“If it’s fine for a human baby, it should be for them. It’s just—I see all these thorough notes and comparisons, and I’m curious what that would reveal.”

“Whale says he has an opening,” Belle added, phone in hand. “Shall we?”

They did, and headed out en masse to make the short walk to the hospital. At least, it should have been short, but Hope insisted on walking on her own and Killian’s pace wasn’t as fast as it normally was. 

Whale met them in the waiting room when they arrived, though, an eager look on his face. “Wondered if I'd see you this time around,” he greeted. “I’ve gotta say—I’m pretty curious about this.”

“Aren’t we all,” Killian answered dryly, bracing his hook against his lower back. 

“Come on; let’s take a peek in there,” Whale beckoned, and led them to an exam room. 

Killian passed Hope off to Blue and began the process of climbing up on the exam table; again—he was doing fine on the energy front, but a large bump was a large bump, and it not only was an obstacle to his mobility, but he was carrying around some weight he hadn’t been 13 weeks ago (and in more places than just the bump).

But he managed to get up there and lifted up his shirt without prompting; he knew the drill. During his seemingly arduous climb, Whale had been looking over Belle’s notes from both pregnancies. “Damn,” he commented. “I think your notes are more detailed than my charts.”

“That’s not reassuring,” Killian called out; Whale just chuckled and moved to ready the ultrasound machine while Belle rolled her eyes and readied her pen. 

Killian had forgotten how cold the gel was, but he got over it quickly as Whale began to move the probe over his (thankfully stretch mark-free) stomach. 

“Well I’ve never seen that before,” Whale said after a bit, and everyone focused on the screen. 

“I thought those were only in black and white?” Belle asked. 

“They are,” Whale confirmed. 

And yet, as the tiny images of multiple babies appeared on the screen, each one was showing up in a different color—the color of the orbs they started as. Tink’s green stood out front and center, but as Whale moved the probe over the dome that was Killian’s abdomen, all the other colors showed up, except—

“Where’s mine?” Blue asked, understandably worried. 

“Hmm,” Whale hummed, investigating. “One, two,” he started counting, finding 8 that were easily visible. “But it looks like…” He pressed harder on Killian’s belly, to the point of discomfort, but he didn’t complain—not when Blue looked so worried. 

“Yeah, there’s definitely one hiding in there,” Whale said. “I just can’t zero in. There’s some color bleeding through, though…”

And in between a pink-hued and navy-hued fetus, a bit of bright blue was visible. Blue sighed in relief. “Yeah, she’s just being stubborn,” Whale assured her. “You can probably blame it on Hook.”

“Hey!” he protested, but Belle’s snicker suggested she agreed.

“Anyways—from a development standpoint, yeah, I’d put you right at 13 weeks, although probably half the size. Were it a normal pregnancy, I’d guess you’d only go to 30 weeks or so, for safety—but I’m guessing that won’t be the case here?”

“No,” Blue said. “He’ll go all the way to full term.”

Whale whistled. “Thank goodness they’re small then.”

Several copies of the sonogram were printed off—as mysteriously colorful as they were on screen—with Killian taking one, another going in Belle’s notebook, and the rest going with Blue. There was some discussion of doing another ultrasound at the second trimester, but it was ultimately deemed unnecessary.

Whale bid them adieu but they lingered in the room, if only because it took Killian a bit to clean off the gel (he hated the way it got caught in the bit of hair on his stomach). Belle was wrangling the kids, but Blue was staring at the pictures, almost in awe. 

“You were worried, weren’t you?” Killian asked softly. “That she wasn’t there.”

“Yes,” Blue admitted. “It’s rare, but sometimes, they don’t all take. And I’ve just—I’ve waited so long for this.”

“I understand.” It had taken him and Emma quite some time to conceive Hope, and obviously they required assistance. 

“I guess I’ll just have to be patient,” she sighed. 

“Aye,” he agreed. “But—” He placed his hand on the top of his bump and furrowed his brow in concentration. “I’m almost positive she’s kicking my bladder at the moment.”

It drew the polite chuckle he was going for, but also meant he needed to excuse himself. Blue also took that moment to take her leave, but not without an emphatic thank-you.

He had to admit, as he shuffled off to the bathroom—he’d definitely been resentful of this arrangement to an extent. But seeing Blue’s genuine emotions there at the prospect of parenthood made that feeling dissipate. 

He was sure he’d have a mountain of complaints by the end of this, but being able to grant so many others the joys he’d found as a parent—that would be worth it. 

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

At 16 weeks, he hit the same measurements he had when he was at full term with Hope (literally those of the day before he’d gone into labor). But the bump still sat high on his frame. “I wonder if whatever magic is preventing stretch marks is also holding it aloft,” he quipped as he traced the curve of his belly. 

“It’s entirely possible,” Belle concurred. “Look at the difference.” In addition to measured data, she also had photographic documentation of his various milestones in both pregnancies; comparing the picture she’d just taken on her phone to the one from right before Hope entered the world, it was plain to see the similarities in how much they extended in front of him, but the difference in where it sat on his body. 

“We’ll see how long it lasts, though.”

In answer to his theory, he got another few weeks before things began to sit lower, though his stomach continued it’s outward expansion—a couple centimeters every week. But by his 17th week, he finally started feeling the pull of gravity and had to dig out the belly band he’d relied on the last month or so with Hope. 

But he soon noticed another issue. While he remembered what it was like to not be able to see his feet, and had gotten used to the obstacle about his midsection, he wasn’t prepared for it to stick out even more. 

Case in point: one morning during his 18th week, when he was attempting to surprise Emma with breakfast (usually she rose first, but a flurry of activity in his belly had woken him early). However, he was a bit farther from the stove than he was used to, as well as the cabinets, and he kept knocking into the chairs around the table; Hope was watching him from her own high chair in amusement, far more interested in his slapstick endeavor than her cereal. 

“What’s going on?” Emma’s sleepy voice asked after he cursed at nearly burning his belly on the oven. 

“Nothing,” he huffed, rubbing the spot on his bump that was just a bit too warm. “Just a failed attempt at treating my amazing wife.”

She glanced around, then smiled. “You were trying to make me breakfast but then your belly got in the way?”

“Aye,” he sighed. 

She walked over to him and pulled him into a hug—from the side, since she already couldn’t get close enough from the front—and turned his face towards her to kiss him. “You’re too sweet,” she said, tucking herself into his side. “And you treated me plenty last night,” she added in a low voice; he swallowed at the memory of their shared moment—probably one of the last times he’d be able to make love on top for a while, unless they got creative with the logistics, but dammit, he did it, and it was amazing. 

“I can finish this up; take a seat, okay?”

“I should be able to do this, though,” he complained. 

“And you will—in 5 months or so. But I told you I’d support you with this, so let me.”

He sighed again, but complied, and ignored the creak of his chair as he sat down (angled away from the table—he was also up a size in shirts, but his jeans were holding on…for now). “How did the gods see fit to bless this poor bastard with such an amazing woman?” he asked, watching the blush rise on her cheeks. 

“The same way they did for this lost girl,” she countered, then put a (heaping) plate in front of him. 

“I love you so much, Swan—thank you.”

She placed another kiss on his lips. “I love you too—always.”

Even if this wasn’t an ideal situation, he knew that he was blessed to have Emma at his side; he wouldn’t be able to get through this without her. 

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thanks for reading! tagging @wyntereyez​ @jennjenn615​ @superadam54​ @ashley-knightingale​ @justsomewhump​ @teamhook​ @88infinity88​​ (let me know if you want a tag!)

[urmyonly-vision]

Plums and Awkward Encounters

Warnings: my first imagine, awkward??, fluff, slow burn, a meet cute?

Pairing: Bucky x black!reader

Words: 2.2k

The 2pm sun beat down on you hard as you carried your grocery bags under your arms. The concrete beneath you seemed to radiate that heat back to you. Even the bustling traffic on your left didn't seem to help the temperature.

Who would be crazy enough to drive in this weather? Let alone walk. Heatwaves in New York City were the worst things to ever happen. Only the brave survived. You chuckled to yourself as you imagined people melting just like the ice cream you had left on your counter last night. 

After a few steps, you paused to reshuffle your bags and the headphones in your ears. You could feel pools of sweat gathering under your arms. For a moment, you became scared that the wetness would tear the paper and the groceries would fall out.

Adela, the shopkeeper had offered to double bag but you had mumbled an incoherent answer about ‘wasting paper; while you fanned yourself with a stack of greeting cards at the till. She had simply laughed and shouted after you ‘Come back if you need more, my sweet!’.

So you had picked up your cross to bear the walk home. After a while, the music in your ears changed from the acoustic sounds to a swelling jazz noise that startled you. In alarm and confusion, you fumbled in your back pocket to decrease the volume, forgetting that your groceries relied on your arms. Your tinned cans, frozen dumplings and a punnet of plums tumbled out of your bag, displaying a very obvious and a very damp hole at the bottom of your bag.

A car hooted near-by with young guys as your face became even hotter when one of them shouted ‘Ay sweetheart! You need some help?’ They sped off leaving you angry, wishing that you had taken Adela’s offer

In dismay, you took out your headphones and tucked them in your back pocket to hear someone else shouting just behind you. For a moment you wondered whether it was one of those boys, coming back to hassle you further, This was New York after all. 

‘Excuse me?’ ‘Miss!’ This time you turned around to see a tall man bounding down the steps of a red brick apartment building. His brown hair flowed against his chin and his white long sleeve tee and dark grey jean shorts bore specks of green paint. 

‘Hey’. He said as he finally reached you, momentarily breathless after jogging to you. 

You stood and simply said ‘Hey….. Um..?’ You waited for the man to speak.

You did your best to hide your damp armpits from his blue eyes by crossing your arm around your other bag

‘Yeah sorry, um.. I just wanted to give you a couple of your plums that… rolled my way’. He had waved his hand to his side to demonstrate the roll. More importantly, you noticed a gloved hand on his left hand.

‘Oh, thank you’ You smiled tiredly and snapped your eyes back to him, realising that you had been looking. ‘How did they even get that far?’ You sighed and rolled your eyes chuckling with him.

He continued to chuckle as he dropped the plums in your hand and said ‘Well… you had a pretty determined face as you were walking’. 

You laughed, knowing the face he meant. ‘Well, I don't think I can stay in this heat for any much longer... so it was that, or suffer slowly’ you mentioned.

‘Oh yeah… of course!’ ‘Here, let me help you’. The tall stranger started to gather the various tins and the packet that had fallen by your feet. 

You had been standing next to him as you tucked the other bag further into your arm. You started to awkwardly lean down to help him pick up the last few tins when he suddenly stood up, his forehead meeting your chin. The pain flooded your tongue as you accidentally bit on it on impact.

‘Oh my God! ‘Oh my God, I am so sorry’ the stranger repeated. ‘I am so sorry miss’. ‘Here, lemme, get you something for that! Ice is good’. He started to fumble in his back pocket until he realised the stupidity of his actions. 

Redness flooded his face. ‘Um, I’ll just run back to my place. I'm pretty sure i've got some ice sitting in the back of my freezer’. He awkwardly rubbed his hands on his jeans, walking backwards, until you nodded, prompting him to say a soft ‘okay’.

He left as soon as he had arrived, leaving you on the sidewalk with your groceries still lying by your feet. You were considering placing the rest of your food in the other bag as you heard hurried footsteps bound towards you again. Looking up, the brown haired stranger was holding out this time a bag of ice cubes.

You tried to smile this time but it didn't quite reach your eyes. You should have been more grateful but you couldn't help thinking just how… tiresome your day had been so far. 

He placed his hands on his hips, signalling his hand to his apartment. ‘So… do you want to come in and sit down for a bit? You’ve got blood on your lip’

Your hand instinctively went to touch your lip and drew back to look at your crimson fingers. He was right. Even still. This man was a complete stranger. You didn't know him! Was he using that as a pick up line to get you to….

‘Oh wow! I am so sorry. I regretted that as soon as I opened my mouth’ he started apologising again, as if he had read your mind.

You smiled softly as the ice began numbing your lip and said ‘no its okay, I should really get going.’ ‘My food isnt going to walk to my apartment’. 

You started the ritual again, of putting the food in the other bag when you realised that a hole was forming in that one too. Tall guy followed your eyes and said softly ‘Hey, please. Let me at least help you get home’. He started to reach his arm out in the busy traffic when you stopped him and said ‘no, it's okay, my apartment isn't that far away’.

He scratched the back of his neck again and his dark eyes glinted, catching the name of the grocer printed on the bag ‘Adela’s Deli and Grocery’. Before you registered what was going on, he had started running in the direction that you had walked from, shouting ‘I’ll be right back!’.

This time, you really gave up. You had just spent an extra ten minutes outside in the heat that you weren't planning on. You gathered the rest of your things and walked to his apartment building steps. With a sigh, you sat down with resignation, not really knowing what else to do. 

As you stared at your definitely melted dumplings, you heard the jazz music that had surprised you before. Had it been playing all this time? It was so much louder before!

You looked behind your shoulder and took a deep breath in. Wet paint filled your nostrils and for the first time today, you felt still. You closed your eyes, the music seemed to drown the traffic and the smell of paint distracted you from the pain in your mouth. You must have looked a mess.

You quickly realised that the stranger was the one who had made you stop in alarm. His loud jazz music had frightened you and… and if it wasn’t for him you wouldn’t be sitting on his steps; sweaty, bloody and with 2 torn bags. Actually… the bags had been your fault, so the handsome guy was excused from that equation. Wait.You found him handsome? ‘Y/N!’ you sighed to yourself with your eyes still closed, ashamed that your brain had subconsciously led you to this conclusion. You continued to silently scold yourself for feeling mushy about a stranger helping you who just happened to be handsome. He couldn't help it! Also, where had he gone? And why were you still sitting on his steps like a squatter? You started to wonder about his one gloved hand. Did he have a medical condition? Also, who wore long sleeves in this weather?

**************************************************************************************

Handsome man had stopped running when his apartment building came into view and he saw you sat down on his steps. He inhaled sharply as he saw your face angled towards the sky, the sun hitting your cheekbones perfectly, the light hitting your curls and shoulders to create a perfect silhouette of a shadow behind you. His heart beat faster as he approached you.

***************************************************************************************

Someone cleared their throat. You were still in a closed trance when you heard it again followed with a deep but soft ‘Hey’.

Your eyes blinked open to reveal handsome guy standing in front of you, now slightly sweaty, holding out 3 bags with Adela’s shop's name on them. 

‘You… you ran to Adela’s in this heat?’ You said, clearly astonished.

 ‘Ah.. yeah its not that far, only 3 blocks away.’ He looked embarrassed at the sudden attention.

There was a pause as you both looked at each other. His face with a slight smile and yours with a smile too, though yours must have been more puffy and swollen. 

‘Oh…. um here.’ He gave you two bags and with the third he started to pick up your groceries from his steps. Unprompted. You started to wonder whether your friend Maddie’s perception of NYC men being ungentlemanly, was accurate.

You started to transfer the other groceries when you remembered you hadn't said thank you. Not properly anyway.

‘Thank you so much by the way… this was really nice of you’ You began.‘You didn't have to run all the way and back...but thank you’. You had started to trip over your words so you decided to stop yourself there. 

Handsome man simply looked up to meet your Y/E/C eyes, smiled and said ‘it was the right thing to do.’

You must have had a mini blackout at that point because the man was standing at the bottom of the steps next, reaching out his free hand, still smiling and said ‘I’m Bucky by the way’.

You extended yours, smiled and said ‘Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N’.

You had joined him at the bottom of the steps when he said ‘So, I’ll help you get these to your place’. ‘We wouldn't want another casualty on our hands now would we’. 

‘How altruistic of you’. This time you laughed properly. 

Bucky thought it was the most wonderful thing he had heard all month.

Leading the way, you both started to say ‘So, um’. You both chuckled at the synchronicity. You talked mostly while Bucky listened. You both talked about the weather, and you told him how disappointed you were this morning to find that your cookie dough ice cream had melted all over your counter. He started to say how his favourite flavour was vanilla with chopped plums on the side when you said.

‘I couldn't have vanilla because the soy ones taste awful’. 

Stopping in his tracks he said ‘What? You don’t eat dairy? Ever?’

‘Ever’ you laughed. ‘Though sometimes cheese is my weakness. 

‘Oh man’. Bucky started to chuckle ‘I don't blame you! Pasta and pizza would be nowhere without cheese!’.

You had now reached your front door when you said ‘Well. This is me…. Thanks for everything, Bucky’.

Bucky waved his free arm as if to say it was nothing. He waited until you had found your key in your back pocket and had opened the front door. You placed your bag inside the door and turned around to see Bucky handing you the one he had carried for you.

‘So.. um well. It was nice meeting you.’ He nervously looked down at your mouth ‘I’m really sorry about your mouth too’.

‘Please no, don't be.. takes two to tango’. You cringed inwardly and cursed yourself as you took your bag from his arms and placed it inside. 

Bucky looked amused to say the least as he chuckled at your innuendo. He now felt he had to say something profound. Anything to make you want to see him again as much as he wished to see you. Would that have been weird? He thought he felt a connection between you. He started to scold himself that this was the 21st century. And everything was different. 

He cleared his throat and started… ‘So, I was wondering if I could see you again?’ Would that be okay?’

You were shocked. A handsome guy was asking to see you. Little old you. You started to nod and said ‘Yeah, sure.’ ‘Well, we both know where we live’. You almost slapped yourself for not offering your number instead of opening your mouth.

‘Oh yeah, pretty sure there's some stray plums marking my door right now’ He laughed. 

Your eyes met again with a pause. Bucky wanted to stare at you all day. Until he remembered… His front door. He had left it open all this time. 

Bucky started to run back. Again, but this time, with panic in his dark blue eyes. ‘I’ll see you soon, doll’, he shouted.

You grasped the railing outside and as you headed inside, you exhaled and smiled.

Hey everyone! Thanks for making it this far if you have. Im basically new to writing imagines so I would love any ideas or feedback you may have. I would also love some friends on here so HI :)

[supernaturalfreewill]

Words: 5,103 Gabriel x Reader Warnings: none! A/N: This is part of a series! Read Part 1 first!

Your name: submit What is this?

The first door standing open down the long hallway was obviously your bedroom, and Gabriel wasn’t shy about stepping inside. At first, he simply stood in the center and glanced around eagerly, bouncing a little on his feet as he surveyed the space.

Cas followed him in much more tentatively, but curious as to what his purpose was.

“This is it, huh?” He strolled over to the small desk in one corner and picked up an open notebook and some loose papers, studying them closely. Apparently, nothing there really held his interest because he abandoned them quickly and started sliding open desk drawers.

“This is—I think this is what humans would call an ‘invasion of privacy,’” Cas said.

“Gabriel, I really don’t think you should—” Cas tried to argue, but the archangel simply shushed him and opened the cover. He ran his fingers over your handwriting—the impressions were deep on the page and he liked the slanting, hurried cursive. “Ghouls in Minnesota, Vampire in New York, Werewolf in Arkansas… This is nothing but hunting notes,” he said with disappointment, flipping through the pages.

“What did you expect?” Cas asked him.

“Something with a little more insight into who Y/N is, perhaps,” Gabriel said, shutting and typing the journal closed again and replacing it in the false bottom of your drawer, kicking it closed with his boot. “Hopes, dreams, roots, deepest secrets… that sort of thing,” he said.

Cas’s brow drew down low over his eyes again. “Knowing Y/N, I seriously doubt you will find any of that in writing in here…”

“Well, that’s just wishful thinking. Best case scenario. I will just have to get creative,” he said. Gabriel spun and looked at the small bedside table. There was a novel sitting on it and he grabbed it, opening it to the bookmark. “Y/N is an avid reader, hmm?” he said, more to himself than to Cas. “This is an ambitious read.” He studied the bookmark which was a folded piece of paper. When he opened it, it was a printed photo of you, Sam and Dean, and Cas. Sam had his arm draped over your shoulders and all of you were smiling for once. Gabriel stared at it for a long moment and Cas watched his expression soften into a thoughtful, faraway look. Finally, he folded it up again gently and replaced it in the novel, leaving it on your side table just the way he had found it.

Next, Gabriel went over to the dresser and glanced at Cas with a smirk on his face. “You know, it’s strange but most humans keep their delicate underthings in the exact same place—top drawer—” he said, grasping the handle.

Cas slammed his hand into the drawer keeping it closed and Gabriel looked at him in surprise. “I really think you’ve done enough spying.” Cas’s voice and expression were stern now, but it only elicited a mischievous glint in Gabriel’s golden eyes.

“Spying? I’m just trying to get to know this Y/N better,” Gabriel argued, doing his best to sound innocent. “I mean, so far all I know is she’s related to the two meatheads and hangs around with you. And, though it may be a surprise to you, that doesn’t actually tell me anything I’d like to know.”

“If you want to get to know her, why don’t you just go visit her now? Or wait and meet her when she’s back.”

Gabriel gave Cas a skeptical look. “Oh, yes. I’m sure Sam and Dean will have no problem with me sniffing around their Baby Sister. They’re not known to be particularly suspicious or protective.” His tone was dripping with sarcasm. “Especially after all those Dead Dean Days…”

Cas grimaced a little at the thought. “Well… you also saved them by facing Lucifer. They will not have forgotten that. You redeemed yourself, at least in part,” Cas said, tilting his head in his familiar habit.

The archangel looked surprisingly uncomfortable with Cas’s sincerity. “Fine. Enough snooping. Come on, brother,” he said, laying a heavy hand on Cas’s shoulder. “Let’s grab a drink and you can tell me all about losing your grace and what mortality feels like.”

Cas frowned, but he didn’t object. He was glad just to get Gabriel out of your room…

_ _ _ _ _ _

Several weeks later

You leaned your head back on the pillows and let out a frustrated groan. “UGH! Where is this doctor?!” you demanded.

Sam gave you a look. “I’m sure he’s on his way,” he said gently, trying to placate you.

You threw off your blankets and climbed out of the hospital bed onto your feet, moving a little hunched over as you rolled your IV stand with you.

“Whoa, whoa! Hey!” Dean jumped up and stopped you. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I can’t stay in that bed another minute or I’m gonna lose it!”

“We’re not even sure if you’re going to get released today, so you might as well get used to the idea that you may have to stay in that bed for a couple more days,” he retorted. “So, get back in bed!”

You vehemently pointed a finger in his face. “HEY. You’re not my doctor! You don’t get to boss me around!”

Dean drew himself up to his full height and gave you a severe look.

You didn’t waver. “I’m not scared of you!”

This drew a laugh from Sam and when you glanced over he was shaking his head. “Y/N, please just at least sit down. I’m sure the doctor—”

“—is in!” As if on cue your doctor strolled through the door, you chart in his hand. He gave you a big smile. “Alright, Y/N. Hop back up on the bed again, would you? Let’s see how you’re doing.”

He hadn’t even examined your incision yet and the words were spilling out of you. “Can I go home today?” you asked urgently.

This elicited a laugh from him and he gave you an appraising look. “As soon as I know, you’ll know,” he said diplomatically.

You tried to be a good patient and sit perfectly still as he checked your incision but you couldn’t help fidgeting and chewing your bottom lip. The doctor straightened back up and crossed his arms. “Well, no sign of infection. Incision seems to be healing nicely, so—” “YES!” you exclaimed.

“SO,” he continued through a smile, “I’m going to release you but with very strict instructions. I need you to really hear me right now, Y/N. Okay?”

You nodded eagerly. “Yes. I’m listening.”

“NO lifting anything heavier than a few pounds—you know what, no lifting anything, okay? Absolutes seem safer with you. And you are NOT to be doing anything physical for 3 more weeks, at which time you can start with some easy physical activity. Long walks, some stretching, that kind of stuff. And you will need to get another post-op check-up around then too.”

You nodded. “Okay. I got it.”

“Now, your brothers here ARE now in charge since I can’t be there to keep you in line,” he said, a knowing smile on his face. He must have overheard you and Dean from the hallway.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you argued.

“I’m not kidding. You need to let them take care of you. And you two,” he said, pointing at Sam and Dean in turn, “need to make sure she rests.”

A gruff laugh escaped Dean. “Easier said than done.”

“I know,” the doctor said. “I’ve been dealing with her for only about a month. You two have been dealing with her for a lifetime,” he joked, shooting you a glance.

“I’m right here, you know!” you burst out. “I can hear everything you’re saying!”

The doctor laughed and held out a hand to you. “Y/N, it’s been a pleasure to watch you recover. Now be well, and rest.”

This time you didn’t have anything snarky to say and just grasped his hand in yours and shook it. “Thank you. For… not letting me die and stuff.”

He laughed and shook his head. “You’re welcome. Gentleman,” he turned to Sam and Dean who both shook his hand and thanked him repeatedly. “The nurse will be in shortly to take care of that IV and check you out. Take care.”

You watched him go with a triumphant smile on your face. Sam and Dean both looked a little anxious, however. “Oh, come on, guys! He said I’m fine. We can go home!”

“You heard the doctor though. Seriously, Y/N. You’re on house arrest,” Dean said forcefully.

“Whatever. I don’t even care. Just get me out of here,” you said climbing down to your feet again. Soon a nurse came in and removed your IV. You kicked Sam and Dean out of the room so you could change out of your hospital gown for the first time in what felt like years. Another few minutes and you were stepping into the hallway, a huge grin on your face.

Sam shouldered your bag and gave you an appraising look. “You alright?” You were still a little hunched over. Straightening up completely still made you sore.

“I’m great,” you said. “Look! I’m wearing actual clothes!” You glanced down at the sweatpants and t-shirt you had pulled on. “Sort of.”

Dean couldn’t help smiling at you fondly while shaking his head. “You sure you don’t want me to go grab a wheelchair? It’s a bit of a walk.”

You scowled at him.

“I’m being serious, Y/N,” Dean said, the gravel in his voice deepening. “You’ve only done short walks around the floor.”

“There is no way in hell you’re getting me in a wheelchair.”

You managed to make it out to the Impala, though Dean had insisted on driving right up to the exit to pick you up. You slid into the back seat and sighed. “Oh, I missed you, Baby,” you said out loud, sinking in to the familiar seat and breathing in that particular smell that always made you remember road trips and hunts and late-night cheeseburgers.

Dean smiled at you in the rearview mirror. He lowered his voice and turned to Sam. “You talk to Cas?” he asked in an undertone.

“No. It still just keeps going straight to voicemail,” Sam said. “But he texted me again… to explain the origins of pineapple,” Sam said, a tight smile on his face. “It took like 30 texts.”

“What the hell is going on with him? He’s been weirder than usual.”

“Well, he has been trapped at the bunker alone for kind of a long time…” Sam said.

“He could have talked with us if he would ever answer his goddamn phone,” Dean countered, turning onto the highway. “Maybe he’s finally cracked.”

“Who?” you asked, leaning forward and resting your hands on the back of the front seat.

“Nobody,” Dean said. You scoffed.

“That’s convincing…” you said under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Why don’t you just focus on getting all healed up and let Sammy and me worry about everything else, alright?”

“You know, it’s weird, but my cells do that part pretty much on their own. It doesn’t require much conscious thought on my part. So, if someone has cracked—”

“Nobody’s cracked,” Dean said gruffly, hands steady on the wheel.

“You just said—"

“I just said nothing for you to worry about,” Dean said finally.

You let out a frustrated growl and changed tactics. “Fine. I’ll change the subject,” you said smugly.

“Thank you…”

“Any news on Gabriel?” you asked loudly, sinking back into your seat comfortably.

There was a long, silent pause from the front seat and you could see that Dean’s grip on the steering wheel had tightened.

Sam turned partially around, one arm on the seat back and looked at you. “You know there isn’t.” “No, I don’t know that. You two are obviously keeping something from me, so I think it is fair to assume you’re keeping other stuff from me too.”

“We really don’t know anything about Gabriel,” Sam said, sincerity written all over his face.

You chewed your bottom lip anxiously. Sam took in your expression. “Have you—seen him again?” he asked.

“No. No, nothing like that but since that happened, I just have this feeling—he said we would be seeing each other again and it’s like, in my core, I know that’s true.” You looked up and caught Sam’s eyes, they were steady on your face and narrowed slightly in concern. “I know that doesn’t make any sense and I know you and Dean said he’s gone but it’s such a strong feeling. I don’t really know how to explain it.”

“I believe you,” Sam said. “For now, I guess we just have to wait…”

Many hours later, Dean finally pulled the Impala into the underground garage at the bunker and opened the door for you. Inside, an archangel and a graceless angel perked up as they heard noise in the garage. Cas shot upright and glanced over at Gabriel, who only smiled serenely back at him.

“Showtime!”

Cas gave him an apprehensive look and started off in the direction of the garage immediately. Gabriel followed, but at a leisurely pace, seemingly completely unconcerned.

But Cas didn’t know that this was mostly an act. There was a strange sensation in Gabriel’s chest and it was growing the closer he came to the moment when he would see you—meet you—for real this time, not in some mind dreamscape. He couldn’t even explain to himself why but he felt that this moment was going to change everything for him in some way—he knew no reason why that would be true. He had been fascinated with you since he first became aware again and had been thrust into some role connected with you… but he had this feeling, like a heavy block of cement in the middle of his chest sitting on top of his heart which was maddening in its oddity. It was like expectation and something more had solidified and despite all his trying he couldn’t shift it.

Dean pushed through the door into the bunker trailed closely by you, and then Sam hauling your bag and his own. “Cas?!” Dean roared. “Are you alive in here?”

Cas came hurrying around a corner in the hallway and his expression stopped all of you dead in your tracks. His blue eyes were wide and his face was quite pale, further making the shocking blue stand out.

“…what’s going on?” Dean asked. He was immediately reaching for his pistol.

“Don’t panic, but there’s someone here—”

“How is that supposed to make me not panic?!”

“Cas, do I need to get Y/N out of here?” Sam demanded over your shoulder, already trying to move around you to shield you protectively.

You were surprisingly quiet and Dean looked over his shoulder at you. Your heart was pounding in your chest. “Cas, who is it?” you asked quietly.

He only swallowed at the tightness in his throat and opened his mouth to offer some kind of explanation, but no sound came out. You felt like you didn’t really need him to answer anyway. You already knew.

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

A second figure now came around the corner and Dean dropped his duffel bag where he stood, his fists clenched.

“Welcome home, Winchester Clan!” Gabriel said cheerfully, his arms spread wide.

There was just a stretch of tense silence between all of you which the archangel finally broke again. “Dean, if you wouldn’t mind just stepping a liiiittle bit to your right so I can—”

“What the hell are you doing here? How are you here?!” Dean demanded, his jaw tensing.

“That’s how you want to start this?” Gabriel asked, a grimace on his face. “Come on, Dean. I’m here to help. I’m not here to kill you over and over again. Not this time. I promise. Scout’s honor.” He made a small cross over his heart with one finger. Gabriel tilted his head, trying to look around Dean to get a better view of you, but it wasn’t necessary because the next moment you stepped around him slowly.

He couldn’t help the small smile that grew on his face. You found the golden light in his eyes staggering, just as you remembered it from your vision.

“…you,” was all you could get out. Sam and Dean exchanged a tense glance.

He bounced a little on the balls of his feet and slipped his hands into his pockets, actually the result of nerves, but he was hoping it just made him look nonchalant and nonplussed. “Me.”

“You’re—but you’re… What are you doing here?” you asked quietly.

“I told you we’d be seeing each other again, didn’t I? You didn’t believe me?” he asked, cocking one eyebrow at you. You didn’t answer, just peered at him intensely.

He inclined his chin a little as he studied you. “Here—” he said. He moved around Cas and started toward you but was immediately met with loud yells and threats from the Sam and Dean causing him to stop abruptly and raise his hands, palms out. “Guys, guys, guys! Would you two just chill? Really! After all we’ve been through… I’d like to heal what’s left of that nasty gunshot wound if Y/N will let me. Or are you opposed to that? Because she’s in a lot more pain than she’s letting on. I’m guessing she’s hiding it so you two won’t go all crazy protective over her for the rest of her life.”

“No, I’m not!” you argued. Gabriel gave you a skeptical look.

“I can feel it,” he said. When he spoke those words there was something almost desperate in them. “Let me heal you. Please.”

You swallowed hard at the nervous lump in your throat and stepped around Dean again, giving him a small glance. “It’s okay,” you said.

Gabriel stopped right in front of you and gently touched two fingers to your forehead.

You straightened up immediately and breathed in a deep breath, completely filling your lungs, something you hadn’t been able to do without pangs of pain since you’d been shot. Your shoulders relaxed and you gave him a grateful but perplexed look. “Thanks.”

“Welcome home,” he said again, but this time it was quiet, like it was only for your ears. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over the fingertips that had just touched your skin. They felt strange, almost like the sensation when your foot falls asleep.

Dean suddenly interrupted the moment by pushing past Gabriel and heading toward the front of the bunker at high speed. Cas turned and jogged to catch up with him, wilting a little under the scowl Dean sent his way.

“Cas, you couldn’t have given us a heads up?” Dean asked angrily.

“You don’t think I tried? He broke every single phone I had and all the new ones I managed to get a hold of. And it’s not exactly like I could just fly over, is it?” he finished bitterly.

Sam stopped next to the two of them and dropped his duffel bag. “So… all those weird texts weren’t from you,” he said with sudden understanding.

Cas looked confused. “What? Weird texts? No. What weird texts?”

The Winchesters and Cas suddenly heard laughter behind them and turned to see Gabriel standing in the doorway with a satisfied smirk. Their expressions were stern.

“Oh, come on! That series of texts about the fuzzy toilet seat lid covers? The ‘bedtime thoughts’ texts? Pure genius on my part. You have to see the humor in this!” Gabriel simply watched as the muscles in their jaws twitched.

Dean rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin. “Goddammit. What the hell is going on?” He turned and looked to Sam who was still just staring in Gabriel’s direction with somewhat wide eyes.

“It’s really not that complicated, Dean. I was sent back to watch out for Y/N. And that’s really all I know.”

This caused deep wrinkles in both Sam and Dean’s foreheads. “Okay, first of all, your definition of ‘not complicated’ could use some adjustment. I would say a DEAD archangel coming back to life is pretty complicated. Second, why does she need anyone more than us watching out for her?” Dean growled.

“Well, seeing as she was just shot and almost died I don’t think I need to really answer that question,” Gabriel snarked back.

Dean’s jaw and fists tensed and Cas stepped forward to put a hand on his shoulder to stop him from attempting to throttle the archangel. Gabriel only smiled serenely.

“That wasn’t their fault,” you argued, having just appeared behind Gabriel in the doorway, feeling sick again because you knew your brothers were already blaming themselves. “It could have been any one of us.”

“But it wasn’t,” Gabriel pointed out.

You looked suddenly weary. “I don’t know why we’re still talking about this at all. I’m completely fine. Better than fine now that I’m magically healed me up. I feel like there are more important things we should be discussing.”

Gabriel raised a finger, like he had a sudden idea. “You’re right. Chiefly, I need to know everything about you. Your likes, your dislikes, formative childhood experiences, deepest darkest secrets—”

You crossed your arms over your chest and were about to snark something back at the archangel but Dean beat you to it. “Alright. That’s enough!” he growled. “You were supposedly sent here to protect her, not be a total creep. You’ve just met her and you’re already trying to invade her privacy,” he said gruffly, his green eyes piercing on the angel’s face.

“Well, technically I think he already—” Cas tried to stop himself but it was too late and your eyes snapped over to Gabriel as he winced and anxiously ran a hand through his hair. Your mouth was hanging partially open and your expression was incredulous.

“What the hell did you do?” you demanded. When he didn’t answer and only shrugged vaguely, the corners of his mouth pulling down in a frown, you turned to Cas again who was doing his best to look anywhere but in your direction. “Cas… Cas! Look at me!”

Gabriel spun and locked his eyes on Cas as well. “Brother, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll be quiet…” he said through his teeth, keeping a forced smile fixed on his face.

“We all know you aren’t good at lying, Cas. Even a lie of omission. Are you really going to lie to me? After everything I’ve just been through?” You purposely tugged on his heartstrings and walked toward him so he had no choice but to glance at you as you moved closer. “Cas, I almost died. And you’re not going to tell me what this archangel who is supposedly here to watch out for me was up to?”

Gabriel shot you a look that was both a little stunned and impressed. “That’s low,” he said. You raised your eyebrows at him and then turned back to Cas again.

You could see the internal turmoil crescendoing until it finally burst out of him. “He went through some of your things in your room. I tried to stop him but—”

“Dude!” Sam exclaimed, his jaw clenching with anger. Dean shut his eyes against the rising tide of rage and his fists tightened. `

Your jaw dropped open again and you turned back to Gabriel and away from a very conflicted-looking Castiel. “What the hell!?” you demanded angrily. “Haven’t you heard of privacy? What exactly gave you the right to go through my room?”

He looked a tinge guilty for a moment before rearranging his features into a questioning expression. “Well, I think I should know a little about my charge—”

You shot a glare at him that was piercing and Gabriel felt his throat tighten. “Your charge? Let’s get one thing straight right now… I’m not your ‘charge’. You do not get to boss me around or make decisions for me.”

Gabriel tilted his head and gave you a peculiar look. “Well… strictly speaking I don’t think that’s true… You see, I’m supposed to protect you which means that I get to decide—”

You interrupted him angrily. “No. No, you don’t get to decide.” You looked at Cas and your brothers who all looked pretty unhappy about what had just played out. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.” As you started down the hall, you heard his footsteps following behind you and as you reached the door to your room you spun to face him. “What do you think you’re doing?” you demanded.

Gabriel looked around as if he was expecting you to be talking to someone other than him, but he saw no one else. “Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“I’m just doing my job. You said you’re going to bed so I’m going to watch over you and—”

You angrily bit the inside of your cheek. “No. You’re not. You can stay the hell away from me while I sleep. You’re not setting foot in my room again.”

“Oh, come on! Y/N, please. You’re not really mad about—”

You turned abruptly and slammed the door in his face. Okay, so maybe you were really mad… “You know I can just appear in your room! I’m an archangel. An oak door isn’t—” The door whipped open again and you stood there fuming.

“Go away.” Your voice was quiet but Gabriel could easily hear the anger in it and for now he decided just to back off. You slammed the door in his face again and he sighed heavily, running a hand back through his hair.

Sometime later, Cas wandered down the hall and found Gabriel sitting on the floor, his back up against the wall just beside your shut door, his legs stretched out in front of him. Gabriel looked at him as he approached.

Cas didn’t say anything, just took a seat beside the archangel on the floor, stretching his legs out in front of him and staring at his shoes. Gabriel broke the silence first. “Look how far I’ve come,” he said, his tone clearly sarcastic. “I used to lead legions and now I’ve been assigned as some kind of glorified babysitter and here I am, a fallen archangel, sitting on the floor outside her door.”

“You probably wouldn’t be sitting here on the floor if you hadn’t botched that meeting with Y/N so spectacularly,” Cas mused. To his surprise the archangel actually laughed and glanced over at him.

“Yeah, I think you’re right about that, Castiel.” Gabriel sighed, leaning his head back against the wall. “I have a tendency toward self-destructive behavior.”

“When I was an angel, I mean—with my grace, so did I,” Cas said. “Perhaps there is something about being so-called ‘immortal’ that makes us reckless with our own lives.”

Gabriel sighed again heavily. “Perhaps.”

Cas looked over at him and he could see genuine worry on his brother’s face. “Don’t worry. She’ll be fine in the morning. She’s tough. Strong. But kind-hearted. She’ll let you make up for it.” Cas fiddled with the hem of his sleeve. “I see such a mixture of Sam and Dean in her.”

This only drew Gabriel’s brow down more deeply. “That’s what I’m worried about,” he said thoughtfully. “I don’t know why I was sent to protect her, but I do know how reckless the Winchesters are with their lives. And all without a single drop of grace.”

Cas’s lips curved ever so slightly in a thoughtful smile. “Yes. But selfless.”

Gabriel glanced over at his brother and felt a pang in his heart for his graceless friend. “Do you miss your trench coat and suit?” he asked him.

Cas’s eyes lifted in surprise at the question and he glanced down at his sweatshirt, picking a piece of lint off the sleeve. “I do. But… it felt wrong wearing it somehow. Like being in a suit of armor while not on the battlefield.”

Gabriel nodded and leaned his head back against the wall. A few moments of comfortable silence passed before he broke it. “I’m sorry for being such a dick since I arrived. All the phones… all the lying… all the snooping. It’s strange to say but I had a level of-—anxiety,” he tilted his head in a question, not even entirely sure that was the right word for what he had been feeling, “about meeting Y/N. And I still messed it up.”

Cas sighed again and patted a gentle hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Tomorrow is a new day.” He climbed to his feet and looked down at the archangel, a strange sight sitting like a child on the floor during time-out. “Tomorrow. Goodnight, brother.”

[missgarnet]

Baby Daddies Chapter 2

Pairing: ot7 x reader

Word count:1.4k (it’s a little small)

Genre: fluff, and a little bit of chaos

Summary:  So... no one tells you what to expect when you and your friends with benefits are about to have a child. (All plans are thrown out the window when your 7 closest friends find out they're going to become dads.)

Warnings: Jin is still the ultimate mom friend, pregnancy

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 

Link to ao3

Somehow you weren’t surprised to find Seokjin waiting for you once you got home the next week. Even after an 8 hour shift he still had more than enough energy to take over the kitchen and start bossing Yoongi around on helping with dinner. 

“Hey Yoongi, remind me to take away Jin’s spare key.”

Jin rolls his eyes as he starts digging through your kitchen cabinets, “You already took my spare key, and the ones I had to borrow from Namjoon and Tae. Besides, I don’t see anything wrong with me wanting to come over and make sure you’re all taken care of.”

“So you broke into my apartment.”

“No, I was just talking to your lovely neighbor and she was kind enough to let us in.”

“And by that you mean you were hitting on my neighbor so she would lend you her key. You know, someday you’re not going to be able to flirt your problems away. It doesn’t work on everyone.”

“With this handsome face I can solve any problem.” He said, blowing a kiss. “Who could say no to my good looks and charms?”

You rolled your eyes knowing this happens at least once a day, “Me, get out of my apartment.”

A face peeked out from behind the couch, “Does that mean we have to leave too?”

Making your way to where Jimin had just popped up from, you took a seat on the couch and looked down at them hiding behind the furniture. Next to Jimin, Hobi was hunched over a stack of wooden furniture pieces and Taehyung was holding a set of instructions upside down as they tried to figure out how everything fit together. 

“Yoongi said you were overwhelmed, so we wanted to help.” Hoseok said. “But someone ordered from an overseas company again and none of us can read the instructions.”

The someone in question wasn’t in the room to defend himself, “Where is Namjoon anyway?”

“He’s at the store trying to find a really nice journal. I was with him when Yoongi called and told us that you said something about getting one for all this.” Taehyung said, looking up from the instructions.

The muttering in the kitchen seemed to grow louder as Yoongi took the spoon away from Jin. It didn't sound like either of them were angry, but they were definitely bickering about something. From what you could hear it seemed like Jin was about to start another dish and Yoongi just wanted to have dinner already. 

Jin had made far too much food, even for all of you combined. It seemed as though every inch of the table had been covered by some kind of dish that he insisted on adding to your plate. You kept telling him that it was enough, but it had become a sort of game between you two. 

“So, how far along are you?” Tae asked as all of you sat down.

“The doctor said I was around ten weeks, so it probably happened when we all went on that weekend trip.” You said right before seeing Jimin and Tae high fiving across the table, almost knocking their plates over. Jin started shaking his head as he passed a small handful of cash to Yoongi. “Do I want to ask?”

“Probably not,” Yoongi said, pocketing the cash.

“Jin owes him money because he overestimated how far along you were, and Yoongi was the closest.” Jungkook chimed in from the end of the table. 

“Oh really?” You asked, turning to the maknae, “And how many weeks did Jin guess?”

Jungkook seemed oblivious to the rest of the guys shaking their heads at him as he paused between bites. “He said you had to be at least 3 months, but then he thought you might be closer to 4 months.”

“Interesting” you said, staring Jin down from across the table as he avoided looking at you. 

Jin’s ears started turning red from embarrassment, but he was given an escape as the door clattered open. Somehow the sight of Namjoon stumbling through the door and dropping a torn grocery bag had grown so familiar that it no longer surprised you. He started gathering the dropped books as he joined all of you at the table.

Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose, “I thought you were just getting one notebook.”

“I was, but then I thought it might be better for all of us to have our own journal.” Namjoon said placing one of them before each of you. “This way we can keep track of everything and add our own thoughts.”

You could tell he’d put a lot of thought into this, picking one that fit each of you perfectly. As the maknaes began helping clean up the dinner mess, you took the time to examine the journals and notice the perfect writing on each front page announcing who it belonged to. The black journal had obviously been for Yoongi, pink for Jin,blue for Namjoon, green for Tae, and purple for Jungkook. But the ones that caught your eye the most were Jimin’s and Hobi’s, the first one had intricate golden designs printed onto the cover while the other was bright red with bold patterns clashing against one another. Only Namjoon would pay attention to that kind of detail on such a small purchase, he really knew each of you better than anyone else.

 “Hey Y/N, can we talk?” Hoseok asked, pulling your attention away from the oversized journals. Something felt off and he seemed uncharacteristically serious. He wasn’t always all bright and sunny, but this was more than just being tired or even a small problem kind of tone.

“Yeah Hobi, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to ask if you’re doing ok. Yoongi said you were overwhelmed and I wanted to make sure that nothing was too much. We’re here for you if anything feels too difficult to do on your own. And if you want to share anything you can but you don’t have to.” Hoseok was trying to sound reassuring, but the way he kept emphasizing two was telling you more than what he was actually saying.

“Which one of them told you?” You could see Hobi trying to come up with an excuse as you waited for him to answer. “Hoseok, you know you’re not a good liar and I’m not mad.”

“Jungkook, he was kinda freaked out by all of it. I asked if he was okay and he just spilled everything.” He started grinning at the memory. “I’m happy I wasn’t at the appointment when I found out, but I was kinda wondering if I could see.”

“Of course, they’re yours just as much as the other guys. Maybe you could spend the night like old times, before you moved in with Yoongi.”

After everyone else had headed home, you found yourself laying in bed curled up in Hoseok’s arms as you started up the computer. Clicking on the video, you realized you were really watching it for the first time. You hadn’t been paying much attention during the visit, overwhelmed by everything going on. But sitting in your room, being held by Hobi gave you enough space and comfort to fully take in the video.

 It was a little blurry when you hit play, but you could see the fuzzy little blobs on the screen where each child was. When the volume resumed you could see Hobi’s eyes light up as he reached toward the screen tracing each tiny figure. “They’re perfect.”

You smiled up at him, “they are, aren’t they?”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“Hobi, you have always been there for me and everyone else. It’s okay to take a break, even if it’s just a small one.” You wished he wouldn't be so hard on himself all the time, being cheerful and reassuring was great for everyone around him but you couldn't help but worry about it being too much for him at times. 

He smiled softly, reaching towards the colorful journal to his side. Leaning over you could see him writing on it’s pages and adding little hearts around the words. 

Week Eleven: I saw the twins for the first time today. I haven’t even met them yet, but I already love them so much!

[flourgirl]

When We First Met

Part I of “The Unbelievers” series

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You’re the new intern at Stark Industries and you’ve made it your mission to figure out just how Peter Parker became Mr. Stark’s favorite.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: A slow burn with a few curse words thrown around.

A/N: This fic helped drag me out of my writer’s block, so I really hope you guys like it! Happy reading <3

“Have you been talking for a million years? Did I go deaf because you're burnin' my ears? Spare the details, it's unnecessary I got places to be and people to see” -It’s Not All About You, Lawrence

The first time you met Peter Parker, he was actually tolerable. It was your first day at Stark Industries, and you had just gotten your job assignment as Pepper’s assistant’s assistant. In other words, you were about to spend your days making coffee runs and changing out ink cartridges. 

“Hey, uh, do you need some help?” he had asked as you struggled to carry two boxes of printer paper all the way to the copy room on the other side of the building.

“Yeah, for sure,” you huffed, not being able to see who your savior was over the stack of boxes. When he took both of the boxes out of your arms, you were met with his dopey grin and wavy, brown hair.

He’s cute, you thought. But all you dared to say was, “Thank you so much. I felt like I was about to die.”

The two of you shared a laugh at your dramatics before you continued walking.

“No problem. I was headed this way, anyway,” he replied nonchalantly. You caught yourself staring at how light he made the boxes seem. He must’ve been a lot stronger than his baggy, oversized sweatshirt made him look. “Are you new? I’ve never seen you around before.” 

Peter had to slow his pace down a lot to let you catch up to him. He wasn’t used to taking casual strolls around the office, always having to run over to wherever Mr. Stark was at a moment’s notice.

“It’s my first day, actually,” you admitted, offering him a weak smile. You weren’t much of a conversationalist, especially not when it came to cute guys who looked that good in sweatshirts with dorky math jokes printed across the front of them. “Are you an intern, too?”

“Yeah! I’ve been working here since I was fifteen,” he told you, leaning against the doorway of the copy room. “But I don’t do anything too important. Mostly just fly under the radar and do what Mr. Stark tells me to.”

Your eyes widened. “Whoa, you work directly with Mr. Stark? You must be one important guy.”

Peter blushed, not knowing how to backtrack out of the hole he had just dug for himself. “Uh, not really. We’re not like friends or anything. It’s just, Mr. Stark knows about all of my science fair projects and—”

“You aren’t making yourself sound any less impressive,” you interrupted, crossing your arms and narrowing your eyes at him as he set the boxes down on the counter. “So, Einstein, who are you?”

“Parker. Peter. Shit, sorry, it’s Peter Parker. I have to go now. Bye!” he blurted out, running from the room before you could even tell him your name.

A girl who looked about your age slipped into the copy room, startling you out of your confused state. “Were you just talking to Peter Parker?”

“Uh, yeah. Why?” you questioned, hoping she’d have some sort of explanation for why he acted the way he did.

“He’s basically Mr. Stark’s surrogate child,” she said, sipping one of the many coffees that she was carrying. “I’m Grace, by the way.”

“Y/N. What do you mean by ‘surrogate child?’”

“It’s like, everywhere Mr. Stark goes, so does Peter. That thing with you and him was basically the first time any of us had ever seen him next to a printer, and he’s only talked to a handful of us once or twice. Guess he’s just too busy being the golden boy to associate with the less important interns.”

Of course. The first chance at a cute office romance that you get is squashed by the fact that the guy you like is an antisocial jerk. But that’s not how he seemed to you, so why was his reputation with the other interns so bad?

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

It had been one week since you started working, and every day you learned more and more reasons why everyone hated Peter Parker. He didn’t make coffee runs and nobody had seen him at an intern meeting in the last year. And yet, somehow, he was the CEO’s favorite. It was annoying, to say the least.

You actually hadn’t seen Peter around ever since you had first met, which only helped to confirm the rumors that he’d rather eat lunch alone than be forced to talk to any of you. You hated that even when Grace or anyone else wasn’t dragging Peter through the mud, you were still thinking about his stupidly adorable Queens accent and whatever the hell he could be doing that was so important.

Of course, the next time Peter decided to grace the cafeteria with his presence was when Mr. Stark had just arrived back from a business trip to Germany. Figures that he would take his favorite on the trip of a lifetime. Your bitterness grew as you imagined Peter relaxing in the company’s private jet, but it wasn’t until he held up the elevator that you really started to hate him.

“Hey,” he panted, slipping into the elevator just before the doors closed. Once again, your hands were full, this time with a stack of folders meant for Pepper to look over. “You’re that new girl. Sorry, I don’t think I got your name.”

“You didn’t,” you noted, turning to look away from him in the hopes that he’d get the message. You weren’t interested in giving him the time of day.

“Did I do something to upset you?” He rubbed the back of his neck while he waited for the answer that you didn’t plan on giving him.

The awkward silence between the two of you was starting to feel especially long when the worst thing possible happened. Loud creaking noises came from the elevator shaft, shaking the two of you as the cables screeched to a halt.

“You have got to be kidding me!” you groaned, setting the files down to press the emergency call button. You had luckily never actually had to use one of these things, but that also meant that you had no idea how to work it.

“Hi, I’m here with another intern and we’re currently stuck in the elevator on the west wing, between floors four and five. Could you send someone over to get us out, please?” You pleaded into the little phone, bitterness lacing your voice.

“What do you mean it’ll take two hours? What do you expect us to do, sit here and play checkers?” You could feel your face heating up as you panicked over the fact that you were going to be stuck in this metal death trap for a while.

Peter walked over to you, leaning against the wall of the elevator to take over the conversation before your attitude extended the wait to three hours. You begrudgingly handed the phone over to him.

“Hey, could you put Mr. Stark on the line?” You couldn’t hear what the person was saying, but you could guess that it wasn’t very positive.

“Well, tell him it’s Peter and…” He looked at you, mouthing for you to give your name.

“Y/N,” you muttered, continuing to pace back and forth as the tiny box that you two were stuffed in started to feel smaller and smaller with each minute that passed.

“Y/N. Five minutes? Alright, thank you so much, Alice! Have a great day.” You were irritated by his effortless charm with others, despite how awkward you knew him to be.

“Um… thank you.” You rubbed your arm awkwardly.

“Are you okay? You seem a little on edge.”

“I’m fine! I just… really need to get out of here.” You wanted to keep pacing back and forth, but you were too busy hyperventilating to think about moving your legs. Peter watched as your eyes started to water, not sure about what he could do to make you calm down.

He stepped closer towards you, which only made you feel even more anxious than you already were. You didn’t want him to see you like this.

“Y/N,” Peter whispered, wrapping his arms around you. You looked up at him in surprise, your eyes probably red and puffy from crying.

“What are you doing?” you sobbed, leaning in closer to him. It was comforting, but you were so embarrassed that you were crying in the arms of a complete stranger.

“Well, uh, I know that hugging someone can release endorphins, more specifically dopamine and serotonin, that calm them down. And it relaxes the muscles, and I know that when babies hear their mom’s heartbeats they feel better, so I just thought—”

“Peter.”

“Yeah?”

“Please stop talking.” You leaned into the hug, taking in the clean smell of his sweater and how warm he was. Little by little, your breathing slowed down.

“Okay,” he agreed, holding you tighter, one of his hands gently stroking your hair in the comfortable silence that had filled the elevator.

You almost forgot about where you were when the elevator jolted upwards, causing you to wriggle out of Peter’s grip and pick your files back up off the ground. When the doors opened, you scrambled out without a word.

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

“Hey, Mr. Stark,” Peter began, fiddling with one of the many decorations around Tony’s office. “I… I think that, maybe, I should be doing, you know, more intern-y things around here.”

Tony cocked an eyebrow, looking up from his computer screen. “Let me get this right, kid. You’re asking me to give you random tasks to do around the office?”

“Uh, yes?” Peter answered, unsure if he had just made a big mistake or not. His confidence was dwindling by the second.

“Now, why on earth would I do that? What if we need Spider-Man for a mission, but Peter Parker is too busy getting some jackass down in HR a peppermint mocha latte?”

“Well, I mean… I just… Some of the other interns are getting kind of mad that you don’t make me run errands or come to any of their meetings, and I’m just worried that they’re getting a little bit too suspicious that I’m always with you and—”

“If I say yes, will you please stop rambling?” Tony groaned, returning to finish typing whatever Peter had just interrupted.

“Yes,” Peter squeaked. For once in his life, his inability to stop talking had been beneficial.

“Fine. Here, go sit downstairs and take the staples out of these packets. And then re-staple them.”

Peter immediately perked up again, excited to be someone other than Spider-Man to Tony. “Right away, Mr. Stark. Thank you so much! Bye!” He quickly ran out of the office and downstairs to where he knew some of the interns liked to have their lunch breaks.

“Is that Peter?” you heard Grace ask in between bites of her panini. Your head perked up to see his head tilted down, making only his soft brown curls visible from where you were sitting.

You squinted, wondering what kind of task had him so engrossed, and why he was sitting over here. He never sat here, especially not while you were eating lunch. Carlos, who interned in accounting, glanced over at Peter before taking his seat across from you.

“Parker sure does seem interested in removing staples all of a sudden,” he laughed, unwrapping his tortilla wrap from its aluminum foil. 

You couldn’t believe it. He was just pretending to be doing something. “That’s it? You’ve got to be kidding me.” Before your friends could stop you, you were marching over to Peter’s table, tapping your foot as you waited for him to notice you.

You cleared your throat, finally catching his attention. “Hi, Y/N,” he grinned, looking back down to meticulously bend back the small metal arms of the staple, freeing the sheets of paper from each other.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Taking out staples.”

“Is this some kind of joke? Some weird way of you proving that Mr. Stark totally doesn’t give you special treatment or something?” Peter got nervous, realizing how quickly you had caught onto his ruse. He needed a way to distract you and fast.

“You, um, you look pretty today,” he told you, not even looking up to meet your cold stare.

A blush started to spread across your cheeks when you realized what he had said. Surely the quick glance he had just given you wasn’t enough for him to actually know what you looked like today.

“Nice try, Parker. You barely even looked at me. Showering me with false compliments isn’t going to stop me from figuring out what the hell you’re actually up to around here.” You countered, satisfied that his plan wasn’t working as well as he wanted it to.

“Didn’t need to look. You’re pretty every day,” Peter replied calmly. He didn’t even realize what he was saying until it had come out of his mouth. It was true. He thought you looked nice every time he saw you, but you didn’t seem to take his compliments very well, and so he never told you.

But you didn’t know that he actually meant it. He’s just messing with you, you reasoned, regaining your composure.

“Whatever,” you huffed. “Just some advice: next time, you should try to come up with something better than taking out the staples of packets that clearly never had any problems in the first place.” 

He peered up to see you turn on your heels and walk back to your friends, who had been carefully watching the two of you this entire time.

“Was that a lovers’ quarrel?” Carlos teased as you sat back down. You rolled your eyes at him, and Grace giggled at your insistence that nothing was going on between you and Peter.

“Yeah, it looked like things were getting a little hot and heavy,” she added.

“Shut up, you guys. We definitely are not lovers,” you assured them, digging back into your grilled cheese.

“Sure. So if there’s nothing going on, then why did Yuri tell me that he saw you guys making out in the elevator on the security cameras?” Carlos asked, making you snap your head at him mid-bite, your eyes widening.

Fucking Yuri. All of those security interns were just nosy and power-hungry, but you’d have to deal with him another time.

“We were not making out! We were just stuck in the elevator and—”

“You guys decided to have a romantic embrace?” Grace questioned, only further exasperating you. “Come on, Y/N, just admit it. You have a crush on Peter.”

“No, I don’t! I wouldn’t date Peter if he were the last guy on the planet,” you yelled, suddenly aware of how loud you had become. 

You looked around the room to see many confused faces staring back at you, including Peter’s, which had a frown on it.

You watched as he collected his stack of papers and walked out of the room, staring so hard at the floor that he almost ran into two women who were walking by.

“Geez, Y/N. We were only joking. It’s okay,” Carlos said, holding back a laugh at your little scene.

“You guys suck,” you huffed, settling down to hopefully enjoy the rest of your lunch break in peace. 

You needed to forget about the way that Peter had looked at you just a minute ago, full of hurt and disappointment. He didn’t actually care, you thought to yourself, even though you weren’t quite sure if that were true.

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

Taglist: @hommyy-tommy @itsgonnabeohtay @alltimekyn @allycat449-blog @greatpizzascissorstaco @dummiesshort @parkerpeterparker2004 @letssee2468 @yourbiggestspiderfan @orangesodafoam @alytavzla

P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist!

[hyperpsychomaniac]

Who Says You Can't Go Home - Chapter 10

Darkwing Duck (90s series) fanfiction

Sequel to my recent fanfic The Other Side of Me

Summary: Down on his luck, the Negaverse Launchpad crashes at Launchpad’s parents looking for help. Launchpad, who has avoided visiting his family since he started working with Darkwing, returns in a panic to ensure his double isn’t causing trouble. And then it gets awkward.

Chapter 1

***

The Negaverse Launchpad stayed another two days, until Darkwing called to let them know Negaduck was safely put away, for now, and he was ready to help Launchpad find the portal to send him back to the Negaverse. As much as he didn’t want to leave so soon something torn up and long buried inside had tugged at him ever since he’d made his declaration to Negaduck, telling him it was time to return home to his true family. Not that this universe’s McQuacks had not been like family to him. And that’s what made saying goodbye so hard.

Though she had only known him a few days Loopey hugged him tightly. “Don’t forget to tell that sister of yours how awesome I am too.” She’d asked him many questions about his Loopey. It had been simply curiosity, but it had helped Launchpad dig up the good memories he had of his sister, the things he hadn’t messed up. It had given him hope that, once he returned to the Negaverse and found her, she just might not tear him to shreds.

Launchpad hugged him next. He held him for a long moment, crushing him against his chest. When he pushed him back his brow was furrowed. “Are you sure you’re going to be alright over there?”

The Negaverse Launchpad grinned and clapped his double on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, buddy. You’re not abandoning me. You didn’t the first time either. This time, I think I might just have a bit more of an idea what I’m doing. I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know how easy those portal things are to find, or get going. But if you ever need help, me and DW are just one universe over.”

Birdie grasped the Negaverse Launchpad’s hands, and sniffed. “Be careful over there, baby. We’re going to miss you.”

“Aw, Mrs McQuack.” Launchpad wrapped his arms around her. “I’ll be alright. At least you know I’m not going to get all angry and pick stupid fights I don’t need to now. You guys, and your son, you taught me that.”

Birdie smiled up at him, her eyes watery. “You are literally going over there to join a resistance. Sounds like you’re picking a pretty big fight to me, but…” she said, as he opened his mouth to protest. “At least its for a good reason. You put that Negaduck in his place. Just be careful. Oh, and this is for you.” She reached into her pocket, pulled out a packet, and handed it to him.

Launchpad unfolded the enclosing flap with a frown. It was only when he pulled out the small stack of photographs that he realised what they were. Photographs were not non-existent in the Negaverse. Often you simply had other concerns, like survival, that took precedent over the taking and hoarding of sentimental keepsakes. “You want me to have these?” His voice caught over the lump that had risen to his throat.

“Most are just ones of the family I dug up and I thought you might like to remember us by. But…”

Launchpad carefully shuffled through them, and came to the two as Birdie spoke.

“… I did manage to snap a couple of you and Ripcord when you were working on that plane together. You were both so absorbed talking to each other and positively covered in grease, I couldn’t resist. I thought you’d like them.”

“Are you sure?”

Birdie winked. “I have more than enough photos of my husband covered in grease.”

Launchpad and Loopey both winced. “Mom!”

“You got doubles?” Ripcord asked his wife.

“Of course. And I always keep the film.”

Launchpad slipped the photos into his jacket, and turned to Ripcord. He and Mrs McQuack had done so much for him since he’d crashed onto their front lawn and he didn’t know what to say to the man who against what had to be all better judgment had taken him under his wing. Heck he’d actually cared about him enough to get riled up and confront Negaduck, no matter how reckless that had been. No one had ever done that for him, and it had never even occurred to Launchpad that someone should. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry and void of words.

But it didn’t matter, because Ripcord took him by the shoulders and all but dragged him around to face him. “Hey, look at me, son. I don’t care how anyone thinks they have a right to treat you like. You deserve to be respected, and loved, and if you ever can’t find that over in the Negaverse, even if you can’t make your way back to us, I want you to remember you will always have that here. You got that?”

Tears filled Launchpad’s eyes. He threw his arms around Ripcord’s neck, breath hitching in his throat. “You guys have just… thanks for being my Mom and Dad these past few months. I love you both.”

The Negaverse Launchpad climbed into the Thunderquack’s cockpit, where Gosalyn waited for him. He waved to the McQuack’s with her, then focused on starting up the powerful aeroplane. All had had to do was get the blasted thing up into the air and leave. He could do this. An ache tugged at his chest as the McQuack family swung out of view. He wiped hastily at the corner of his eyes as they pulled up into the air, and he did not look behind him.

“Hey,” Gosalyn squeezed his arm. “You okay? I mean, you’re not going to crash or something?”

Launchpad grinned. “Come on, kiddo. You know I never crash.”

Gosalyn threw out her arms. “You literally showed me the skid mark where you crashed when you go here!”

“Had a broken arm. Didn’t count.”

“But…”

“Now, come on, we can’t waste time arguing like this. Your dad knows we’re leaving now, right? I reckon if I go full tilt we can get you home before he starts to worry, but still have plenty of time to get into some mischief. What do you want to do?”

A grin slowly spread across Gosalyn’s face.

***

The McQuack’s spent the next few days repairing their front hallway from the gashes Negaduck had hacked into it with his chainsaw. DIY was not beyond them, although they were all better at repairing aeroplanes, and the damage was quickly patched up. Birdie hadn’t quite trusted their skill with the kitchen however, and she and Ripcord had decided they would get it replaced professionally.

Now they were all in the living room, sorting through the photos Negaduck had knocked down. As the whole family was finally together, it was the perfect opportunity to see if they could dig up any different ones to put up. Some had been completely destroyed but, luckily, Birdie had many spares. She’d tugged out a number of large boxes from various cupboards around the house, and added them to the photos already there.

Launchpad sat next to his father on the sofa, his leg almost touching his. Ripcord had taken every opportunity to sit close to his son, sometimes almost awkwardly. It was kind of sweet, but also didn’t help Launchpad’s worry for his dad. He knew he hadn’t intended to put him in danger and had nothing to try make up for. All he could think of doing had been to give his father a quick squeeze around the shoulders, just to let him know he wasn’t uncomfortable with him being close to him like when he’d first arrived, and hope it would eventually sink in that his son was still there.

Birdie rushed past them, and opened another cupboard. Despite the half dozen boxes scattered around, she had insisted on continuing the search. Apparently she hadn’t found them all yet.

Ripcord sighed. “Honey, I think we’ve got plenty here to go through already.”

“I’m looking for something specific… yes!” She came back, not with a box, but a single photograph folder clutched to her chest. It was old, and yellowing, and far from pelting it onto the table like she had the other loose folders she’d found, she cradled it carefully.

Ripcord frowned. “They heck are those? Wedding photos or something?”

Birdie pressed the folder into her husband’s hands, but held on, stopping him from opening it right away. “We don’t have to put this up if seeing it upsets you. But, well, I had these stashed.” She sniffed. “I mean, you threw away the first prints, so…”

Ripcord gently took the folder from her and opened it.

Launchpad leaned over his father’s shoulder. “Dad, why’d you throw away photos?”

“I didn’t realise you knew I’d pitched them,” Ripcord said thickly.

“Of course I did, silly. This is why I always keep the film.”

Launchpad watched as his father shuffled through them, slowly, with a faint shake in his hands. At first, there seemed nothing remarkable about the photographs, save that they were quite old. Photos, many of Loopey of a baby, and of the family, and of him when he would have been about five. Ripcord stopped as he revealed one of him in the cockpit of a small plane that Launchpad couldn’t remember, on the ground, with one very excited five year old strapped to his lap.

Ripcord sniffed, putting a hand to his beak. Then he leaned over into Launchpad’s shoulder and held the photos where his son could easily see. Launchpad grabbed the photo’s edge, his hand touching his father’s. “Launchpad,” Ripcord said, his voice wavering, “You don’t remember this… but… this is the first time… I took you up in an aeroplane. That, that was the day…”

Launchpad put an arm around his father’s shoulders. “Dad, it’s okay. We already talked about this.”

Ripcord looked at his son and, with tears in his eyes, smiled. “That was the day you asked me to teach you to be a pilot.”

***

The Negaverse. One month later.

It was hard to appear non-threatening when you straight up waltzed into the secret headquarters of the resistance formed against your former boss. Especially when he had declared you dead.

A dozen weapons leaped out of jackets and holsters, muzzles tilted up to train upon their target. Launchpad towered over the ragtag group of fighters, and as he eyed them all slowly, the corner of his beak twitching up into a scowl. Man, Loopey was really scraping the bottom of the barrel here.

When he’d been unable to immediately locate Gosalyn, Launchpad had started searching for his sister. He’d trailed the resistance’s attacks on Negaduck’s proprieties and equipment, but when he spoke with anyone who had seen Loopey’s operatives in action, or even helped them, none could tell him where her cell was. If they knew, they hadn’t been keen to share with someone who had worked for Negaduck. And no matter how nicely he’d asked, his lack of aggression only seemed to confuse people more.

Frustrated, he’d eventually caught one of the operatives. It had sent a thrill through him to find him wearing a Darkwing costume. He’d scared the hell out of the poor guy with how excited he’d got, and his catch had flat out clammed up when he’d asked about Gosalyn. Where Loopey’s headquarters were, however, he seemed less keen to put his life on the line to protect. Not that Launchpad had used anything he’d learned from Negaduck to weasel it out of him. The threat had been enough, and even then he hadn’t made any actual threats, just paced and muttered to himself about what he was going to do with his captured prey until he’d cracked.

One of the fighters edged forward. Quackerjack was still dressed in the Darkwing costume Launchpad had last seen him in, when he’d found him and the other three in the company of Gosalyn. “Alright, playtime’s over. Put him down, nice and slow.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Launchpad had completely forgotten he still clutched Megavolt by the collar, his feet swinging clear of the floor. He set him down, gently. “I didn’t hurt him,” he said, for whatever that was worth. His reputation was preceding him, and whilst that had been helpful prying information from Megavolt, it was not serving him well now.

Megavolt stayed at Launchpad’s feet, trembling.

“Get over here, you idiot,” Quackerjack muttered with a wave of his rifle.

Megavolt bolted over and hid behind him. “He took my hat!”

“I didn’t… you dropped it!” Launchpad closed his eyes briefly, then raised his empty hands slowly. “I don’t want any trouble. I’ve come to see the Pink Baroness.”

“Yeah?” said Quackerjack. “On who’s orders?”

“No ones. I’m done with Negaduck.”

The fighters all exchanged looks. Some of the weapons lowered.

“Alright. But keep those hands where I can see them. No funny business. And, guys, check him for weapons.”

It took nearly a full minute for anyone to work up the courage to approach him. After much whispering, it was decided the safest option was for everybody to, simultaneously, pat him down. This resulted in far more pawing than Launchpad was comfortable with. He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and kept his hands raised. If this had been before he’d left the Negaverse he would’ve snapped within seconds. As it was he could feel his jaw gritting tighter and tighter until, finally, someone declared: “I think he’s clean.”

“You’re sure?” asked Quackerjack.

“Pretty sure you’ve checked every crevice,” Launchpad growled.

Loopey’s fighters led him deeper into the warehouse. With every weapon trained upon him, which true to Negaverse standards included a fair number of rocket launchers, Launchpad really hoped a rat or something didn’t startle anyone.

Megavolt pushed open a door. A long table took up the middle of the room, a miniature Saint Canard set upon it. Some of it was actual scale models of buildings and vehicles, some simply tin cans and bits of rubbish pressed into service. A bright fluorescent light swung overhead, throwing shifting shadows across the half dozen resistance fighters crowded about the setup.

Bushroot leaned in and poked a leafy tendril at what Launchpad assumed was one of Saint Canard’s sad excuses for a park. “I know there’s not a lot of stuff still alive, but I should be able to coax the poor little fellas into helping us pull down Negaduck’s hanger.”

“Yeah, this is good. We’ll teach that selfish creep to close off ‘his’ airspace.” She still wore her worn and weathered pink jacket, torn off at the sleeves like her brothers, revealing bare arms. Her jeans were black, but the pink showed up again in her worn and greasy steel toed boots. Her hair was a cut in a mohawk, tipped in pink, and she’d never cared a damn that most folks thought pink a ‘weak’ colour. She’d soon set them straight.

“Loopey…” Her name slipped from Launchpad’s beak on a breath before he knew it.

His sister shielded her eyes as as she looked past the bright light. “Someone tell this joker I don’t go by that name any…” She stiffened, then took the cigar from her beak and snuffed it out in the ash tray beside her, never taking her eyes from her brother. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Launchpad gulped. “I’ve been looking for you. I’ve come to join your resistance.”

“You’re supposed to be dead. You selfish…” Loopey stomped towards him and her resistance fighters parted before her. Her fist flashed out like a snake and Launchpad barely registered the pink studded gloves, a new addition to her outfit, before they ripped across his beak. “… bastard. How dare you come here!”

Launchpad hissed and clapped his hands to his face. The blow stung; he could taste copper in the back of his throat. He drew in deep breaths, eyes squeezed tightly shut, until the pain lessened to a manageable level. When he looked up, Loopey had her fists raised. Her fighters’ weapons were again trained on him. Because no one in the Negaverse would let a cheap shot like that go without fighting back. Launchpad wiped his arm across his beak with a sniff, then let his hands drop to his sides and stared his sister down.

A frown creased Loopey’s beak. “You must think I’m an idiot. You realise how this looks, right? Negaduck says your dead. Then you rock up here, pretending you want to help? You were his right hand man.”

“I know,” he said thickly. “And I don’t know how to prove to you I’ve changed, but…”

“Launchpad!” Everyone jumped, which was rather concerning with so many weapons in play. A small something darted nimbly between the fighters, followed by a looping tendril of water.

“Now, just wait… you can’t… Gosalyn!” Liquidator gurgled. He wrapped watery arms around his charge just as she reached the front of the crowd, but she exploded through before he could nab her.

All that time searching, especially as he hadn’t been able to locate Gosalyn quickly, and without the support he’d had when he was staying with the McQuacks, had been taxing. Launchpad had questioned his resolve, his ability, and if he really could accomplish his mission without resorting to some of his old Negaverse ways. All he’d wanted was to find someone he knew, despite all his failures, would be there for him. His heart rose in his throat, his knees buckled and he dropped, arms flung open wide.

Gosalyn barreled into him with such force it knocked Launchpad back and he sat down hard on the concrete floor. “You’re alive!”

“Gos.” Launchpad buried his face in her hair. “Aw, kiddo. I’m so, so sorry for abandoning you. And not being there for you with Negaduck, and… I wish I’d been stronger for you.”

“Launchpad, none of that was your fault.”

Oh, how he’d missed that incorruptible little face. “I know. But I’m gonna make it up to you, promise.”

“Alright, wise guy, let our daughter go right now.” Megavolt had recovered from his kidnapping ordeal. He stood over them, electricity playing at his fingertips, alongside Bushroot, Quackerjack, and Liquidator. They loomed over him to form an impressive front of very, very angry guardians.

“Dads!” Gosalyn wrapped her arms around Launchpad’s neck. “It’s just Launchpad. He won’t hurt me.”

They backed down, but still hovered close. Damn. Darkwing had certainly picked the right carers for Gosalyn.

Gosalyn stayed protectively in front of him, but climbed off his lap so he could sit up. She put a hand to his cheek. “Are you okay? Wait, who hit you?”

Loopey hid her bloodied knuckles behind her back. “I thought you were dead. Why do you think I…” she swallowed hard and squared her shoulders. “Where have you been all this time?”

“In the other universe.”

“Wait, you saw Darkwing Duck?!” The four copy-cats exploded.

“Did he say anything about us?” Megavolt added, hopefully.

Launchpad slowly stood to his feet. Gosalyn stayed clamped to his arm. He wasn’t sure if she’d just missed him, or she was staying there to protect him. “Loopey, a lot went on over there. But long story short, I realised I don’t need Negaduck anymore.”

“Negaduck wasn’t very nice to him,” said Gosalyn. “I’m glad you left. He didn’t have any right to treat you the way he did.”

“I know, and he doesn't have any right to treat anyone in Saint Canard the same way. And I was a part of that.” Launchpad looked back to his sister. “That’s why I gotta make it right. I know I have to earn back your trust first. But I need to stand up to Negaduck, and I need your help for that, and… I just want us to be a family again, sis.” Tears filled his eyes, and you just didn’t break down in front of a heavily armed resistance and show that kind of weakness, but Launchpad no longer gave a damn. “Please, Loopey. I’ll do whatever you ask, just don’t put me out.”

Loopey stared at him for a long time. “Sure you can take orders from your little sister?”

“I’m good at taking orders.”

“Good. You can start by cleaning toilets. After a week or two of that we’ll see how trustworthy you are.”

There were a couple snickers from the fighters. As well as one ‘oh thank god’, presumably from the last poor sucker who’d had that job. It was still better than what Launchpad had expected, which was to get punched in the face a lot more than once.

“Come on, I’ll get you patched up. And lower those weapons! You’re all so jumpy, you’ll put someone’s eyes out. If he tries anything I’ll just punch him again, now move it.” Loopey waved her way through the fighters, dragging Launchpad behind her until she was clear. Then she turned to face him and squeezed both his hands. “Are you okay?”

“You didn’t hit me that hard. It’s alright. I’ll just spar you later, you know, only if you’re okay with that.”

Loopey frowned at him, then shook her head. “I did, and I’m sorry. I forgot I was wearing these.” She waved a hand. “But that’s not what I meant. Launchpad, what the hell happened to you over there? You’re different.”

“A lot. I don’t know where to start.”

“I’m glad your done with Negaduck. Gosalyn told me how he treated you and…” Loopey’s hands tightened in his. “I thought he’d killed you. Why the hell do you think I started all this? But now you’re back and you’re all…” She trailed off and gulped hard.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m still here. All I wanted was to find you and Gos. You’re my family, and there’s a bunch of stuff I have to tell you, but… you know, like Mom and Dad always said, we’ve got to protect each other. I know I failed at that, and I’m sorry for the way I treated you over the years. I’m going to do better.”

Loopey made sure none of her fighters were watching them, then she threw her arms around Launchpad and buried her face against his chest. “You had better be on the level with me, big brother.”

Launchpad sagged into her arms. He was home.

***

Author's Note:

Fun fact. When I was plotting the sequel to this, I originally intended Nega Launchpad to fall off the Audubon Bridge and drown (and LP to try and save him cause he’s a nice guy). Yeah, I’m glad I didn’t.

This turned out a bit hectic… somehow I ended up writing about abuse and that was… interesting. Negaduck is a jerk. And its weird editing something to try and make a particular character be just the right bit of nasty, whilst simultaneously wanting to throat punch them.

Ripcord got a bit more than he deserved, poor guy. I’d intended to have his and LPs backstory, and, yeah, that was going to be upsetting for him. And then have him lose it over Negaduck mistreating Nega LP and go after him with a shot gun and for that Not to Turn Out Well. But I didn’t realise that Launchpad was going to get in the way until I was writing that part and… yeah, having your adult kid nearly die after you’ve just dug up all those memories of, you know, nearly killing your kid when they were a kid and how this sent you into a depressive spiral. Flip, Ripcord, I’m sorry.

But I am really happy with Nega LPs character arc. Kind of proud of the dirtbag. And when I get back to writing some original fiction and characters (which this has completely distracted me from)… yeah, really hope I can do something as good.

Please leave me a review or comment if you’ve read this. I do enjoy feedback and will usually try to respond. Thanks for reading!

[thelostexperiment]

It had been about a year after The Last Adventure and F.O.W.L's desertion of the Lost Library of Alexandria. All that was left with the massive monolith of ancient knowledge, standing as tall as ever in the middle of a raging sandstorm. It was still full of both artifacts of the past and state of art, modern tech from the renovations of F.O.W.L all left to gather dust. For the most part the entire library was devoid of life, with the exception... of a young female duck dressed in classic adventurer's gear.

She roamed the halls, apprehensive of her surroundings while shining her flashlight down every passageway and dark corner she passed. Occasionally she'd call out if anyone else was there, even if she wasn't sure if she wanted an answer back.

"Sweet Salin, this place is creepy." She muttered to herself with a southern drawl in her voice.

It wasn't long before she entered a huge expansion of the library with thousands of empty cells lining the walls as far as her eyes could see, or at least as far as her flashlight could show.

"And who or what the heck were all these used for?" She said in awe, as she walked through the massive room, making slow twirls to get a full 360 view of the room. She suddenly stepped on something hard and the 'crunch' made gave her a start. She found that her foot was standing on the barrel of a strange looking broken gun with a cracked crystal in it sparkled at her when she shined her light on it. She decided to quicken her pace through the room after that, but this time being more mindful of where she stepped.

After turning a few more corners and going down a few more corridors, she found herself in the medical section of the library. Maybe there could be something helpful here? She certainly hoped so. The inside seemed like a typical infirmary; cost, chairs, medical equipment and tools, some curtains, it reminded her a lot of the nurse's office at her school. Except the motivational posters on the nurse's wall didn't say–

"Don't give up!

Because not even your God(s) can save you if you fail us.

~F.O.W.L."

At least the kitten on the poster was cute... After pulling aside a curtain in the back area of the room, she noted that her school nurse didn't have two huge empty stabilization tanks in the back. Now this looked more like a sci-fi movie to her and she hoped there wouldn't be any experiments running around. Well, all she could do now was to investigate further, which led her to the back storage room of the infirmary.

She was able to jimmy the door open with her pocket knife, and as soon as she did a mouse scurried past her. The sudden movement made her jump back with a yelp before she released what it was, then felt silly as she watched the cute little guy skitter out of sight. She couldn't help but laugh at herself a little as she entered. It was a large space (not nearly as big as the cell room, though), with large crates and boxes full of medical supplies and dust all over everything.

As she went further in she noticed through the dark, a dim red light flashing against the very back wall behind a huge stack of crates. Curiosity took her to what was causing the light, which was a rather old looking computer screen attached to what looked like another stabilizing machine. Only this one wasn't as modern as the other two, the tank was slanted vertically and it wasn't empty, the fogged glass obscured whatever was inside, but she could see the silhouette of... something.

"Oh... I don't like that…" said the young duck as she looked at the machine with wide eyes, and slowly reached over her shoulder and grabbed the walking stick that was attached to the side of her backpack to bring it forward as a weapon.

Cautiously, she approached the monitor that was flashing in all big red caps, "ERROR!", and tapped the 'entire' key on the keyboard under it. The screen cleared and turned blue, but then another line of text appeared.

"Cooling unit disabled… Emergency thaw in progress…"

A loading bar appeared under the text. It was almost full…

"Aw, I really don't like that!" She exclaimed as panic settled into her heart. Even though she didn't know exactly what was behind that glass, but she'd seen enough old horror movie tropes to know this couldn't be good. Maybe it could be fixed? She tried what little she knew to override the computer, but couldn't get past the password. Then searched the thing over, frantically hoping to find the problem, and there it was. A large cable running from the machine to the wall had been gnawed through… by mice… and some of the wires were chewed to bits.

Well, there wasn't much she could do now. She took a few steps back and raised her walking stick at the ready as the loading bar reached 100%. The inside of the tank lit up, with a 'pop' and loud 'hiss' the door to the hatch of the tank cracked open, the duck readied herself to smack whatever was coming out, and—!

Nothing...

After a few seconds of holding her attack, the confused duck used her would-be weapon to push the hatch open all the way without getting near it. To her bafflement, mist poured out of the machine and cleared away to reveal an old man... Just an old balding vulture in a black suit and tie, probably sleeping...?

The unexpected twist of the situation made the young duck tilt her head and let out a– "Huh…"

All that fuss over some old guy.

She rested her stick on the ground and approached him casually this time to get a better view of him. She couldn't really tell if he was alive or not just by looking at him. If he was breathing it was very slight. She grabbed the vulture's to check his pulse, it was ice cold to the touch, but she could feel something very faint.

"Hey, Mister, you alright?" She asked as she tapped the end of his beak with the index finger of her other hand to wake him.

This did cause him to stir as his face scrunched a little from the tapping and his eyes started to blink open. The young woman stepped back as the old buzzard sluggishly drudged himself upright with a long groan that morphed into a loud yawn. She patiently waited for him to fully wake before she spoke up again.

"Well, hello there!" she said gregariously which snapped his attention towards her.

"H-hello?" He hesitantly replied in a low gruff voice as he titled his head in visible confusion, in an attempt to actually see who he was talking to.

Suddenly, the possibility of finally getting some answers about this place sparked some excitement in the young duck, especially since this old man didn't seem particularly dangerous.

"Alright, so my name's Susan Spruce, and I found this place after my plain got caught in a sand storm and kind of crash landed, and it so nice to meet you, because the place is a bit creepy by myself, and it's great to finally find someone who knows about this place. So what's your name?"

She spoke all this in a rapid fire manner, meanwhile this poor old buzzard was still struggling to see, and as he tried to lean in to get a better look at Susan his hand felt a small pair of glasses lying next to him. He picked them up and started looking through them just as she finished with her question.

"I...uh," he put the glasses on his beak, finally, he could see, "I don't know..."

That was definitely not an answer she was hoping for and the spark in her smile started to wane a bit. "Aheh… Okay, uh… how'd you get here?"

"I don't know." he repeated flatly this time.

"Well… is there anything you can tell me about yourself?... or this place…?" She asked a bit more pleadingly.

Now he was starting to get a little irritated and it showed by the look he was giving her. He straightened himself a little, cleared his throat and said calmly, "Alright, I'll tell you, but this is very important and I'm only going to say this once so you need to listen very carefully." Susan nodded, giving her full attention to him as he cleared his throat again.

"I."

"Yeah!?"

"Don't."

"Uh-uh…"

"Know."

"..." At this point she was just as annoyed as he was and it showed by the look she was giving him back, which did make him smile. Although to be fair, she'd be a bit sassy too, if a stranger started asking her questions as soon as she woke up. She stooped down to pick up her walking stick with a disheartened sigh, "Well, sorry for buggin' you then."

The old vulture took her apology as a 'goodbye', and not really wanting the only other person here to leave yet, he attempted to walk.

"Wait, don—!" The instant his feet hit the ground his legs buckled under his weight and he began to drop. The only reason he didn't face plant onto the floor was Susan jumping towards him propping him back up, and helped lean him against the machine that served as his bed for who knows how long for stability.

"Here," she said, offering him her stick, "you need this more than I do right now."

He took it with a humbled, "Thank you." A small glasses case fell out of his inner coat pocket and clattered on the floor as he used the walking stick to straighten his stance, which Susan was quick to pick up.

"Oh, hey!" she chimed as she got a good look at it, "I found your name!"

She handed the little case back to him and he read the gold print on black leather.

"B. Buzzard "

"Huh…" was all he had to say before tucking the case back into his pocket.

"Well, I guess welcome to the future, Mr. Buzzard." Susan Greeted, this wasn't what she expected to find in an ancient library, but she was glad for the company.

[ag-celestina-gorillaz]

Daisies and Daffodolls Day 17: Book Series

Sorry I've been MIA a lot. I've been busy doing sewing stuff (next photo challenge I'll prepare a few weeks in advance). But anyways, I took a pic of Celestina in what would be her meet outfit. Celestina's story is different in many ways than other AG characters. For one thing, she's my Gorillaz OC as well, so her story involves some Gorillaz lore as well, and her story starts at age 11 in middle school in 2016 and goes to at least 2020 when she's 15. Basic outline, Celestina is a cheerful creative girl living in Orbitz Ohio. She was raised by her mom Sharon and her stepmom Mia, (they got married in 2015 when gay marriage became legal in the US), and her dad is Stuart "2-D" Pot, the lead singer of the British band Gorillaz. In her story, Celestina faces many changes, such as her Mom starting a new paramedic job, her dad returning to England to reunite with the rest of Gorillaz to record Humanz, as well as starting her first year in middle school. I'm actually planning to write a whole book, maybe more, about Celestina, and post the chapters here on tumblr. I think I'll go ahead and post the first chapter here as a preview, but I'll post the full story later, maybe with illustrations.

Summary - It's the year 2016, and Celestina is starting her first year of middle school.  While she's excited for a fresh start of the new year, she's also nervous.  School uniforms, more classes, more teachers, and new classmates.  Unfortunately, the school year starts out on a sour note, she barely shares any classes with her best friend, and in homeroom class, she gets paired up with Lucy Phillips, a cold, aloof, yet mysterious, new girl from Britain.  Meanwhile, things aren't easier at home either, her dad ends up returning to the UK to reunite with his fellow band members to record their next album, and her mom begins work at her new paramedic job.  But when Celestina begins to get close with Lucy, the new girl's iciness starts to melt, and they both learn they have more in common than they thought.  

Celestina's Family and Friends

Celestina Damon - An excitable 11 year old girl starting her first year of middle school in the year 2016.  

Sharon Damon - Celestina's mother, a practical, but cheerful, lady.  She starts working a new job as a paramedic.  

Mia Lucci - Sharon's wife and Celestina's stepmother, a funny and kind woman, she's always there when Celestina needs advice.  She runs and works at The Leaning Tower of Pizza pizzeria with her twin sister Gina.  

Stuart "2-D" Pot - Celestina's father, and lead singer of the British band Gorillaz.  He isn't quite wired like other people, but in his own 2-D way, he's very deep, and he's also got a big heart.  Despite the troubles that come with being a long distance parent, he loves Celestina immensely and tries to be in her life as much as possible.  

Kailey Green - Celestina's next door neighbor and best friend since childhood.  A smart and sweet girl, if a little awkward.  A self proclaimed theater nerd.  Often gives Celestina the nickname "Lessie".

Lucy Phillips - A new girl in Celestina's homeroom, who's family arrived from Britain.  She seems mysterious and comes off as cool and guarded, but in reality, she's a little shy, and becomes much kinder and sweeter once you get to know her.  

Chapter 1

New Year, New School, New Hope

The alarm clock on the bedside table chirped on and on as Celestina Damon slept in, nestled in her soft, pastel colored, blankets.  She was dreaming a wonderful dream; Celestina, rocking a sparkly, purple, galaxy print dress, was singing in front of a sold out crowd on her first performance.  Fans in the crowd were holding handmade signs and cheering her name.  Here she is posing for pictures with fans!  There she is signing autographs!  She finishes her last song of the show, wishing the audience a good night.  The crowd erupted into a thunderous roar of applause, fans shouting her name "Celestina!  Celestina!  Celestina! -"

"CELESTINA!!! WAKE UP!!!"  

That did it!  At the sound of her mom's voice, the young girl jolted up from her bed with a start. "Gah!" she exclaimed.  Her wavy blue hair was messy and needed brushing, and she was no longer clad in galaxy print, but rather, blue and white pajamas with panda bears printed all over.  Celestina ground the sleep out of her eyes and smashed the "stop" button on her alarm. 

"Okay, I'm awake Mom!" said Celestina, slightly irritated.  Her mom chuckled.

"Hey, if I let you have your way, you'd be asleep until lunchtime." laughed Mom.  "I told you not to stay up too late."

"I didn't stay up late!" Celestina protested, "I'm just, not used to waking up this early."  She was kinda right.  Today was the first day of the new school year, after three months of staying up and sleeping in later than usual, it can be hard to get back on a schedule.  

"Fair enough," said Mom, "but I can't always be around to make you wake up, especially now, you understand?"  Celestina nodded.  What her mom had meant was that she just got hired to work as a paramedic at a new ambulance company, which meant that some days she had to go in early.  Unfortunately, it also means that she would come home later after working many hours, some nights possibly after when Celestina was supposed to go to bed.  Luckily, today was only her orientation, which wouldn't start for a few hours, so her Mom could drop her off on her first day of school, but she was still dressed in her work uniform, black boots, navy blue pants with lots of pockets, and a wine red shirt with the ambulance's logo embolized on the left breast, and her curly blonde hair was tied up in a long ponytail.  

Speaking of uniforms.  Not only was Celestina starting her first day of school, but it's the first day of a new school, specifically, middle school.  Okay, so technically this school is a combo middle and high school, so not only does she have to deal with the 7th and 8th graders, but also all the high schoolers as well.  And all the students have to wear uniforms.  Actually, the uniform itself wasn't that bad, it was pretty cute, the top was a rich shade of purple with a white collar and ribbon, and a white pleated skirt that fell below the knees, had a "sailor suit" sorta look to it, kinda like what an anime character would wear.  All the same, Celestina couldn't understand why she just couldn't just wear her regular clothes to school, you know, like everyone did in elementary school.  Sigh, another change to have to get used to.  Mom caught Celestina eyeing her uniform.  

"Well get dressed, hon." said Mom, "And come downstairs for breakfast.  I think Mia made some chocolate chip pancakes!"  Mmm, just the thought of those pancakes made Celestina's mouth water.  

"Okay, you win." laughed Celestina, giving her mom a hug.  "I'll be down in a few."  After Mom had left the room, Celestina got dressed, brushed and pulled her long wavy blue hair into a ponytail, using a hairband with two pink poofballs on it.  Before she left to go downstairs, she looked toward the corner of her room, and saw Scratchy, her fluffy gray bunny, stirring around in her cage.  

"Hey there Scratchy!" she cooed, giving the bunny little pats.  She then slipped a little chew treat for her to play with.  "Be good while I'm at school, okay?" 

The young girl grabbed her backpack, filled to the brim with school supplies, and headed downstairs to the kitchen.  The aroma of chocolate chip pancakes and maple syrup filled the room.  Mom had seated herself at the kitchen table, eating her small stack of pancakes, and Mia, Celestina's stepmom, was busy flipping the pancakes at the stove.  Her mother, Sharon, and Mia have only been married for less than a year, but Mia has lived with Celestina and her Mom her whole life.  They probably would have married sooner had it been allowed before last year!  Mia is a pretty lady, tall, tan skin, and shiny dark brown hair, and she's a great cook.  Her and her sister Gina (Aunt Gina to Celestina), run a pizza place called Leaning Tower of Pizza.  

"Pancakes, comin' up!" shouted Mia to Celestina.  Mia still spoke with a New York accent, despite the fact that she's been living in Ohio for at least 15 years.  She served the girl her pancakes before sliding her own onto a plate.  Celestina took her breakfast to the table and poured on the sweet maple syrup.  She cut a piece and took a bite, mmmm, was so good.  Her smile fell slightly looking around the room.  She couldn't get used to the empty space at the table.  

"What's wrong?" asked Mia, noticing Celestina's frown, "Don't you like chocolate pancakes?"

"I LOVE them!" exclaimed Celestina. "I just wish Dad was here to have some."  Mia and Susan exchanged a look of understanding. 

"You miss him don't you." said Mia.  Celestina nodded. 

"Yup!" said Celestina.  It was actually more than that.  She paused a bit, trying to think of how to put it into words, "I mean, I dunno, I guess I'm also a bit worried, you know, about him leaving again."  Celestina's eyes looked down at her pancakes.  Talking about stuff like that always made her uneasy.  

Celestina's dad, her whole family life in general really, was, well, unusual to say the least.  For one thing, her parents weren't married when her mom had her, in fact, they split up shortly before Sharon found out she was pregnant.  Whatever, no biggie, there are lots of kids whose parents are like that, people who have children before they got married, or had kids and didn't stay together.  However, it was even more complicated in Celestina's case, because her mom is American and her dad is British, meaning it's harder for her to see her dad on a regular basis because he lives so far away.  Also, her dad is famous.  Celestina's father is none other than Stuart Pot, better known as 2-D, the lead singer of Gorillaz.  Yes, that 2-D!  It's been awhile since the band did any songs together though, the last album, Plastic Beach, was released when Celestina was 5, but a couple years before that, something else happened, and that's what worried Celestina.  For a short while after Celestina was born, 2-D would often call the house to say hi, sometimes even visit.  But after a visit that Dad made sometime when she was 3, he had gone on a trip somewhere, and suddenly vanished.  Her mom tried to keep calm around her when she asked where Dad was, but even as a kid, Celestina could kinda tell that her Mom was worried about him.  The sudden release of a new Gorillaz album didn't help either.  At one point, her Mom told her stories that 2-D and Murdoc Niccals, the band's foul mouthed, green skinned, bassist, were taken by pirates and trapped on an island called Plastic Beach, an island in the middle of the ocean made of garbage and spray painted pink.  Looking back, Celestina wasn't sure if this all really happened or if this was something Mom was making up, but she knew something happened that made her dad unable to contact her for awhile.  Shortly before Celestina was 8, her dad had called her on the phone for the first time in years.  

"Celestina, is that you?" said 2-D in his thick Londoner accent, "You sound so big!  How old are you now?"

"I'm gonna be 8, Dad!" answered Celestina proudly, "I'm a big kid!" 

"8!?  Wow!  You really grew up!" exclaimed 2-D, Celestina could hear the tears caught in his throat. "I've missed you so much!" 

After a brief vacation, or "holiday" as her dad called it, in Guadalupe, he visited Celestina and the family for the first time in a while, right in time for her 8th birthday.  And since then, he had been able to keep in better contact, and came to visit Celestina in person more often these last few years, as if to make up for missing out for those last 5 years.  She even got to fly with him to England one time and met her grandparents, David and Rachel Pot, for the first time at the amusement park that Grandpop had owned.  This year, 2-D stayed in the guest room for a few months, he was able to keep Celestina company during the summer while Sharon was taking paramedic classes, and Mia was working at Leaning Tower.  2-D had been helping Celestina with her budding interest in music, teaching her how to play her new blue Melodica, a small keyboard with a flute-like pipe in it.  When they weren't practicing, the father daughter duo would watch scary zombie movies, or listen to some older Gorillaz songs on Celestina's old CD player.  On June 23rd, the whole family, and a few of Celestina's friends from school, celebrated her 11th birthday with a bonfire cookout in the backyard.  It was a wonderful summer.

But all this fun and excitement of summer had to come to an end.  It was now time for school, and just as well, Dad left to go back to England, rather suddenly at that.  Somehow, one of his old band mates, Noodle, the guitarist and the only girl in the band, (and Celestina's favorite band member, next to Dad of course), ended up getting back in contact with him.  Apparently, the band was getting back together to make a new album called Humanz, which would be released sometime next year.  Like always, Celestina was sad to see him leave, but she was also worried too, maybe because a part of her is scared he would go missing again.  

Sharon put a comforting hand on Celestina's shoulder.  "It'll be okay," she reassured her daughter, "He said he's gonna text us when he arrives to meet the others.  Plus, he said you can visit him during spring break."  

"I know," nodded Celestina.  She finishes up her pancakes, thinking about everything going on.  Mom's starting a new job, Dad's going back to England, I'm starting a new year in a new school, and we have to wear uniforms!  So far so good, she thought sarcastically.  She rinsed her dirty plate in the sink and slipped on her black flats to meet Mom out in the car.

"Are we taking Kailey today?" asked Mom.  Kailey Green is Celestina's best friend and next door neighbor.  

"No, Mrs. Green wanted to take her this morning," answered Celestina, "but she's picking both of us up after school."

"Okay, good," said Mom, "let's get going, you don't wanna be late," she checks her watch "and neither do I!" she laughed.  Celestina gave Mia a hug goodbye.

"Have a good day at school, rockstar." said Mia lovingly.  "I'm coming home from Leaning Tower about an hour after you get home from school, okay girlie."

"'Kay 'kay, I got it." smiled Celestina.  She gives Mia a fist bump, complete with a little explosion sound effect.  

"You have a good day at school," then she turns to Mom "And good luck with orientation Sharon."  Mom gives Mia a loving kiss on the cheek.  

"Bye honey," said Mom grabbing her keys.  "I should be home by dinner tonight."  Celestina and her mother wave goodbye to Mia before getting in the car.  As Sharon drove on to the school, Celestina sat in her seat nervously, her breakfast doing flip flops in her stomach.  

"Are you doing okay back there?" asked Sharon, looking at her daughter in the rearview mirror.

"I dunno," she answered.  "Honestly, I'm pretty nervous.  Middle school sounds kinda scary.  All these classes, new teachers, ugh, no recess, school uniforms," she grimaced.  She had so many thoughts, so many "what-if's", that they started coming out one after another.  "What if I don't like my teachers?  What if me and Kailey don't have any classes together?  What if all the classes are too hard?  What if I get bullied by the older kids?  What if -" 

"Celestina!" said Mom suddenly, "sweetie, sweetie, it's alright." She took a deep breath before continuing, "I know this isn't something you want to hear, but I kinda know how you feel.  I was nervous starting middle school when I was your age.  And, if I'll be fully honest, I can relate to how you're feeling right now.  I'm a bit nervous starting this new job."

Celestina looked up in surprise, "You are?" she wondered.  "But you said you were excited."  Mom gave Celestina a loving smile.

"And I am," answered Sharon, "But I have so many mixed feelings.  I'm worried I won't be good enough, I'm worried the boss could be a jerk, or that I won't like my co-workers.  So many things can go wrong.  But," she paused before continuing, "There are also good things I'm looking forward to as well.  I'll be able to use the skills I worked hard learning in all these classes, I'll be able to help people, I'll be bringing home a little more money, which means we will be able to go out more often." she said with a smile.  "It's normal to be scared and nervous, it's okay in fact.  But you also have so many good things to look forward to.  Yes you have more classes, but you get to have more classes you enjoy, like music and art.  And even if you don't have any classes with Kailey, you'll always be able to see her because we're neighbors.  If you're having a problem, whether it's classes, mean kids, or even a mean teacher, you can always come to me or Mia.  I just want you to know, even if the bad things do happen, there are also a lot of good thing to come, I want you to remember that."  Celestina thought over what her mom had said.  She did have a few good points.

"I did hear that the music department puts on a school musical every year," said Celestina, feeling a bit more hopeful, "And there's all these fun clubs".  Sharon's eyes lit up.  

"See, there you go!" said Mom. 

"It just seems like so many things are changing at the same time." Celestina admitted, "it just feels so fast, I feel like I can barely take a breath."  

"I know, it sucks, it really does." said Sharon in an understanding tone.  "The funny thing is, is that the only thing that never changes, is that everything changes."

"That's so confusing to think about!" said Celestina laughing.  

"Ah, but that's the truth," said Sharon with a chuckle.  "But you know what else will never change?"

"No what?" asked Celestina.

"I'll always love you," Mom answered warmly, "The same goes for Mia, and for your dad, we will never stop loving you.  You are our child, and nothing will ever change that."  

"Aw mom, I love you too!" she exclaimed.  At that moment, Celestina's cell phone chirped with a new message.  Oops, better silence it before class, she thought, making a mental note.  But seeing who the message was from made her smile.  

"Ooh I got a text from Dad!" shouted Celestina in excitement.  The text read "i made it to studio 13 in london.  about to start recording for the new album.  I miss you already, but i'm happy to be home again.  russ, noodle and murdoc say hi.  say hi to your mum for me.  love you little panda bear."  Celestina smiled at the mention of the special nickname her dad gave her.  Attached with the message was a picture.  It was a group photo of the whole band in what looked like the inside of a recording studio.  Celestina had yet to meet the other band members in person, but she knew who they were from the music videos and interview clips on YouTube, and from a few stories from her dad.  There was Murdoc Niccals, the band's bassist, and probably the biggest troublemaker of the band.  He has an odd scrunched up nose, and green skin and black hair, sorta made Celestina think of the Gangreen Gang from The PowerPuff Girls.  Then there was Russel Hobbs, the drummer, a heavyset black man from New York, with bright white eyes lacking pupils, a result of being possessed by a demon when he was young.  He seemed to be the voice of reason in the band, and when he speaks in interviews, he has a gentle voice.  Then there was Noodle, the guitarist, and the only girl in the band.  Celestina almost didn't recognize her at first, she's so used to seeing her in the music videos back when she was a kid or a young teen, and now she's a beautiful grown up woman!  Noodle was not much older than Celestina is now when the band released their first album, and according to her dad, when they were first looking for a guitarist, Noodle traveled from Japan all the way to England, in a FedEx delivery crate, and gave such an epic explosive guitar solo, that the band ended up giving her the part on the spot.  Celestina likes to imagine that if they were the same age, she and Noodle would be great friends.  And in the middle of the pic was her dad, 2-D himself.  He's tall and wiry, the tallest of all the band members in fact, he has spikey blue hair, and due to two separate car accidents (which were Murdoc's fault), he lost his front tooth, and his eyes were injured, they now look like blank black circles.  Murdoc gave him the nickname 2-D because his black eyes made it look like he had "two dents'' in his head.  Surprisingly, her dad liked that nickname, at this point, the only people who really call him Stu anymore would be Nana and Grandpop, as well as Sharon and Mia.  People would often describe her dad as, well, not very bright, sometimes saying he's thick and calling him names like "space cadet", but Celestina doesn't like any comments like that.  To Celestina, her dad has his own 2-D way of thinking, and his creativity with making music is where he shines the best, and he's got a kind heart.  In the attached picture, all four band mates were smiling (even Murdoc), and that made Celestina happy, seeing her dad and his old friends all back together.  

"That's great!" said Mom, "What does the message say?" 

"Dad said he got to England safely, he's excited to work on songs again, and that he loves and misses me, plus he sent a pic of him and the rest of the band." said Celestina.  "Oh yeah, Dad says hi, and so does Russ, Noodle, and Murdoc."

"Aw that's awesome!" replied Mom, "See, I figured he would make it there okay.  How do the other three look?"

"Murdoc is as green as ever," Celestina replied with a laugh, "Russel pretty much looks the same, but Noodle looks so different!  She's a grown up lady!"

"Yup, I believe it," said mom with a chuckle.  "Oh man, I haven't seen her since you were a baby, she was still a teenager then.  Grown up so fast, both of you." she said with a sigh.  "It's good they seem to be doing well." She paused, thinking, "I got an idea.  We're almost there, why don't we take a few back-to-school pictures of you when we get there, and you can text them back to your dad?"

"Ooh I'd love that!" said a delighted Celestina.  She was quiet for a bit before continuing.  "Hey, I know I was sad before with Dad leaving, but, well, it's also really cool that the whole band is back together and they'll make more songs again."

"I know, I can't wait to hear them," agreed Mom, "but like I said earlier, it's okay to feel sad about missing him.  Just don't forget that there are also a lot of good things to look forward to."

"I understand," answered Celestina.  Mom had just pulled up to the school.  There it was, Orbitz Public School.  Mom was lining up to park at the entrance where the middle school classes were.  While Celestina had seen the school many times when going on errands with her mom's around town, today the building somehow seemed larger and more intimidating.  Her breath slowed down and her hands grew sweaty the closer they got to the entrance.  Mom had found a parking spot and Celestina nervously left the car, carrying her backpack.  

"This place is way bigger than South Lincoln," remarked Celestina, referring to her elementary school.  Sharon gave Celestina's hand a comforting squeeze.

"I know it's scary," said Mom. "But you got this."  Even though Celestina was still nervous, she somehow felt a bit better with her Mom hyping her up.  

"I got this!" repeated Celestina.

"You're the star of your own stage," encouraged Sharon, "You knock 'em dead!"

"I'll knock 'em dead!" repeated Celestina, feeling pumped.  "Oh yeah, let's get that picture taken to send to Dad" she remembered.  Celestina and Sharon walked around to find a spot with good lighting in the courtyard. 

"Ooh, we can take one here," said Celestina, handing the phone to her mom.  She struck an adorable Sailor Moon style peace sign pose in her new uniform with the school in view in the back.  After the picture got taken, she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder.

"Huh," said Celestina, before turning around to see her best friend, "Oh hey there Kailey!"

"Hi Lessie!" greeted Kailey, using the nickname she used for Celestina since they were little.  Kailey was wearing the same purple and white school uniform that Celestina was wearing.  She kept her short brown hair in her natural curls, and her red square glasses framed her blue eyes.  The giggly girls greeted each other with a hug, before realizing that both their moms were standing by with their phones.  

"Smile you two," said Mrs. Green.  Both girls smiled for the camera with their arms around each other.  

"Perfect!" exclaimed Sharon before handing Celestina her phone back.  Celestina then quickly sent both the pics to her dad with a special message.

"So glad you made it home safely Dad.  Mom and Mia say hi back.  Today is me and Kailey's first day of school.  Can't wait to see you again, and maybe meet the rest of the band (even Murdoc lol).  Have fun recording.  Love you lots!  We got this!"

Shortly after she sent it, her dad replied with another quick "I love you", and Kailey got Celestina's attention.

"C'mon Lessie," said Kailey, "We still need to get our schedules."

"Oh my, that's right!" exclaimed Celestina.  "We gotta get going!"  

The girls gave their Moms a quick hug and said goodbye, and headed into the school.  Celestina still felt a bit nervous, but she felt a lot better than this morning.  She headed inside the front doors of the school with Kailey, walking through the purple and white crowd of students, feeling determined to take on the day no matter what happens.  

"Celestina, you're on!" 

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 11/?

Word Count: 2.5k

Author's Note:  Y/N- your Name.

Warnings: Description of Injury, Description of the court system, gets fucking heated again, Swearing, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Monday morning came and she knew that Jason wasn’t going to go to class and she had to go meet up with him after school to give him notes. She started to dress a lot nicer today, since she was probably going to unintentionally meet some of Jason’s family today. 

Here’s another outfit because I do what I want<3

I really like being in control here lmao also just imagine it’s paired with black or beige heels because why the fuck not, right? Fashion.

This class, they discussed how circumstantial evidence affected the psychological profile of the attackers. For example, circumstantial evidence is when the entire amount of circumstances are stacked towards each other and it becomes less likely that it’s all a coincidence. The Professor had said, So when the case is circumstantial, it’s likely a crime of passion and having a criminal profile for the attacker is unlikely. He continued.

It was fascinating. She assumed it was a case that forensics would be heavily involved in and that the criminal psych crew wouldn’t handle. She was right. More likely than not, they wouldn’t handle a circumstantial case because of the fact that it’s not calculated, for the most of the time.

Her notes were a mess again. Barely legible, she’d have to use Jason’s computer to print and get them to be able to be read, which was fine. She was expecting to have to do that either way, legible or not, because he needs a copy and she does too.

The things I’ll do for the weird pretty boy in my criminal psych class, she thought, worth it. 

She would end up texting Jason once class ended, they had already been texting most of the morning, anyway. 

Hey, just finished class, are you busy?

Nope, siblings are at work. Dad’s still in Metropolis.

And your grandfather?

Do not know. He’s nice, I swear.

Be there soon x.

That was the first time that she had even sent him an x, which is a kiss, but she felt like it was right, so she did it. What a flirt I am, she joked with herself, It’s a fucking x, I need to shut up. She laughed at herself.

She got into the car and drove the way to Wayne Manor, a trip she knew all-too-well at this point, however, the press was bombarding the entrance, so she couldn’t pull into the driveway and had to pay for parking at the nearby park. She paid for a day’s worth of parking and began to walk to the Manor. With her bag in tow.

Of course, the press noticed her. Why wouldn’t they? And they were down her throat.

“Why are you out here if you don’t speak English and are known to be close to the family?” one said in a downplaying tone to her, she tried to sneak past, knowing she was live on national TV and not exactly feeling like starting a fight.

“Hello? We’re talking to you, Ma’am!” one yelled at her, she started shielding her face from the flashing lights and the cameras.

She would make it 2, maybe 3 steps before a camera was shoved in her face. Then, she started running. She was quick, and she would dodge between them all before the security snatched her into the gates of the Manor. She breathed a quick sigh of relief once she was in. 

The press didn’t like this, and they would keep yelling at her as she stood in the driveway, trying to catch her breath from her escapade of running through the vultures.

“Just tell us your name!” one yelled.

“Tell us what you like doing on the weekends!” another yelled, and she got an idea, before someone could answer she screamed,

“I like doing your mum on the weekends, bitch!” before flipping off the press and running to the door while the press started talking about her.

She really had to catch her breath this time, she was so out of shape and the fact that she was lugging her notes around made it worse. When a friendly looking English butler came out onto the step with her, hand outstretched to shake hers, “Hello there, Y/N, I’m Alfred, Jason’s grandfather.”

She was taken aback by this and slightly jumped when he greeted her, but she took his hand and shook it, “Hi Alfred, please tell me you didn’t hear that,” she laughed.

“I heard that, that’s how I knew you were here. Jason was right, you’re as crazy as he is,” he said.

“Oh lord, I’m sorry,” she laughed again, “I swear I didn’t mean for you to hear me and my childish insults.”

“Child listen, I’ve been dealing with the press for years, I promise you, they deserve the insults, childish or not,” Alfred reassured her, “Do you wish to come inside, or are you still out of breath, Y/N?” he asked.

“I’ll come inside. I’ve given the press enough content for one day,” she joked/

“It’s been nice, Y/N, really. Thank you for the entertainment, but I have work to do.”

“Anytime, Alfred.”

And they parted ways, Y/N went to Jason’s room, knocking. When he groaned, she cracked the door open and stuck her head in,

“You dead?”

“No.”

“Good. Hi,” she said as she entered his room and walked to his desk to drop her bag and pull out his desk chair to put it beside his bed again, “How are you, still in pain?” she asked when she sat down.

“Hi,” he whined.

“Hi,” she repeated to him.

“Hi.”

She leant in to his face and rested her forehead against his, she didn’t know if this was the comfort he needed, but she did it anyway, when he wrapped his arms around her back, though, she knew she was doing something right.

“Hi, Jason.”

“Mhm,” he whispered.

She stopped leaning against his forehead, much to his dismay, as he groaned at her moving, but she had other ideas.

She leant and moved in closer to his lips, putting her hand on his cheek, and then leaning in for a kiss. It was a lot like their first kiss, small and passionate, but enough to prove that she was just trying to make sure he was okay. When she pulled away again, he groaned again.

“Now, will you tell me how you are, sir?”

“In pain,” he managed to say.

“Have you been walking around? You should.”

“You told... me to rest,” his speech wasn’t slurred, but it was slower than normal.

“You still need to move your joints, Jay. Just sparingly so you don’t hurt yourself. too much time off of your feet will make walking again harder on you,” she said.

“Mhm,” he groaned.

“Okay fine, but when you need more physical therapy don’t come crying to me, Jay.”

“Is this... our first... fight?”

“No, you goon. I’m giving you medical advice and you’re being stubborn, it’s advice and I can’t force you.”

“Remember... that... when I get... hurt fighting.”

“Is this an often occurrence?”

“Not... often.”

“Well I can live with it being a once-in-a-blue moon event, since you clearly have security.”

“Special... edition because... of my... injuries,” he groaned.

“Damn. Still, better than nothing. Anyway, I have notes to write, so I’m going to move you laptop over here, alright?” she asked.

“Mhm,” he said, very sleepy-sounding.

“You can sleep, Jay,” she said as she unplugged his laptop and walked back to her chair, she put it on the chair and moved her bag to beside the chair, sat down, opened the laptop, and began typing. Jason would put one of his hands on one of her knees.

“Do you need something, Jay?”

“You,” he whispered out.

“Jay, I need to write these notes, you need them,” she said.

He groaned and moved to try to turn his back to her, forgetting he was injured and taking a massive breath in when he tried to.

“God, don’t move, Jason,” she said, placing a hand on his abdomen, “You can be upset that I’m not in the bed holding you, but you shouldn’t turn around, baby.”

He stared at her when she called him ‘baby’, which prompted her to blush a lot, but she tried to ignore him to pretend that he wasn’t piercing her soul with his staring to get her to cuddle with him. She kept trying to type out the notes, the class was the same amount of length as it should have been, so there was a lot of notes.

She wanted to cuddle with him, she knew she did. But she told him she’d get him the notes he wanted for class, and that was something she promised she’d do. But then she remembered something.

“Oh, I’ve been forgetting to ask, how’s your best friend?”

“Will? He’s... he’s okay... why?”

“Because he got injured too, remember?”

“Oh... yeah he... did.”

“Mhm! So I asked if you knew anything, Jay. Are you forgetting stuff because of the pain or something?” she asked.

“Just... drowsy.”

“Yeah? Well good thing I’m almost done.”

“Hurry... up” he laughed, his laugh was pained, but he did laugh.

She knew him forgetting his best friend was injured was weird, but she didn’t think anything of it. She just kept typing the notes out till she was done, at which point, she hooked the laptop up to his printer on the other side of his room, much to his dismay that she had to leave him, and printed the notes.

She put them in order on top of his desk, plugged his laptop back in, put his chair back and put her notes back in her bag before taking off her jacket and slinging it on the chair she had been sitting on.

He groaned as he watched her walk around his room, he was in pain, it had been two days since the incident and he was still struggling. Dick told him that he’d be in a lot less pain the closer it got to his stitches being taken out. He hoped it was true.

When she went and sat on his bedside, leaning her forehead to his and cupping his face with her hands. She kissed him again. He kissed her back, wrapping his hands along her lower back and gently adding pressure as she sat with her legs off the bed. 

He parted his lips and she did the same as they danced with their tongues. Not assertion of dominance, but trying to be on top on the other when her hands found their way into his hair. She ended up on top of him, with one of her hands used to stabilize herself as they made out. He was able to put a hand on her ass and just grab it. There was some movement, because there had to be, but the only touching was his hand and her hand. 

Because they couldn’t go further. The two of them were cock-blocked to touch closer by his injuries. When they broke lips, she sighed because she couldn’t get closer to him. 

But she laid to his left like they had done the night before, and she cuddled on him when he would bury his face into her hair.

Again, the moments they shared were always the slowest and calmest moments that they adored. She wanted to go back on dates with him like they did before the events of his injuries. She wanted to have the adventure of running away from the press, not just running into his house. 

She didn’t know when he was going to heal from his injuries, but she swore she would take him on a crazy and worthwhile date when he got better. She didn’t know when that was going to be, but it was going to be.

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

They ended up falling asleep until the next morning. And Y/N’s car? It got towed. Y/N had class? Yeah, she did. Was all of his siblings home? Yes, yes they were. So, how was she going to make it out of the house before they noticed? Well, it was 4am. She and Jason awoke when she realized the time, freaked out, and kissed him ‘bye’. At least she thought it was bye, he clearly had a way to pull her into conversation whenever he wanted.

“Don’t go,” he said, his speech seeming to have recovered.

“Jay! I have to go, you know this, I have class, I have notes to write, I’m wearing the exact same clothes that I did yesterday,” she said, panicked.

“Can I see you tonight?”

“Tonight? Yeah of course. Why? Will you miss me?”

“What if I do?”

“You have my number, Jay,” she said.

“What if that’s not enough?” he asked.

“Then you’ll see me tonight, but I have to warn you, I have another class tomorrow so we can’t spend all day in your bed.”

“That’s a shame. I think it’s been like 3 days since I got injured though, so if all goes well,” he winked, while propping himself in a sitting position for the first time since he got injured and grabbed her waist to pull her on him, she was sitting in his lap, “If all goes well,” he whispered, “Maybe we won’t have to stop,” he spoke in her ear as if he was begging her to stay until he could move again.

“We aren’t supposed to speed run our way into a relationship, Jason,” she purred.

“No one needs to know how serious we are but us,” he said. He was captivating her in every was possible, blowing on her neck with every word he said.

If they hadn’t had their own lives they needed to attend to, lord knows what the two of them would be doing.

She tried to fix her appearance to the best of her abilities before she had to go outside and see the world, she didn’t exactly want the rest of them to think she was blowing Jason in his room after he had been stabbed in an attack.

But if the tabloids ran their mouths, lord knows what she’d say to fight back against them.

She checked her appearance one last time before going over to Jason and kissing him bye and see you later. She wanted to kiss him for a longer period of time, but before she knew it she was running out of the house and down the streets, she was going to have to walk home that night.

Had Jason known that she was going to walk home, he wouldn’t have let her go that day. but it was around 4am, the sun was going to rise and she’d be in broad daylight, she thought she was going to be fine and to be fair, she didn’t have reason to think she wouldn’t be okay. She always ended up okay in Metropolis, so why wouldn’t it b the same in Gotham. Gotham had many more heroes compared to Metropolis anyway.

  I mean, what’s the worst that could happen, she thought, Wait no, don’t say that.