#anyway i decided to pick an argument first thing this morning <3 with my mothers disgusting 10 yrs younger boyfriend who is the dumbest | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wardenparker · 3 years ago

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Broken Road - part 4

Javier Peña x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When Javier’s high school sweetheart turns up at the Embassy, it shakes him right to his foundation. How will he cope when he learns that everything he thought he knew about his first heartbreak was a lie?

Rating: Explicit. 18+ my lovelies! Word Count: 14.7k Warnings: Javi with feelings deserves his own warning. Cursing, tiny Javi getting embarrassed, cooking/food, guilt, arguments/fighting, domestic turmoil, Lorraine just generally being terrible, pregnancy/family planning talk. Oral sex (m receiving), road head, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, technically outdoor sex. Summary: Javi deals with the fallout from his involvement with Los Pepes, and the two of you decide it’s time to head back to Laredo. But there is a very twisty rollercoaster that lies beyond that decision. Notes: So much drama for these babies! Thank you to everyone following along on this journey. There’s a lot going on here, but it will flow nicely into next week’s conclusion. Just one more part 💖

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5

February 2, 1974:

Saturday mornings have been the same for months now, and propping your bicycle up against the big tree in front of the Peña’s house is sort of like having your own designated parking space waiting for you. Mr. Peña’s truck is conspicuously absent this morning, but that doesn’t stop you from knocking loudly on the screen door and grinning at the way it rattles under your eager fist. You can hear the radio in the kitchen, always tuned to the local soul and funk station and just a touch staticky because of it, but Javier’s mother sings lightly along with every song anyway. “He said he’s going back to find…what’s left of his world…The world he left behind not so long ago…” She croons along with Gladys Knight, and you crack open the door rather than interrupt her favourite song. “He’s leaving…on that midnight train to Georgia…” You can’t help smiling, leaning just inside the doorway of the house that pours directly into the kitchen if you so much as turn to your right. She’s dancing and singing along, and there’s even a big pot in the stove already. Ingredients cover every surface - very different than your chain-smoking mother sitting at the kitchen table trying not to drop ashes on Vanessa’s new jeans while she hems them and watches the morning news.

“Buenos dias, mija.” Even as she is stirring, Javi’s mother turns to the door and gives you the widest smile. She’s liked you from the first and that has just turned into absolute adoration the more she has gotten to know you. “Javi is already gone with his papa to town.”

“Morning, Mrs. Peña.” You shuffle your feet slightly in the doorway and drop your book bag in the corner under the coat rack. “I-is It okay if I stay?” Bring here is always infinitely more comfortable than being at your own house, but you’ve never been alone with just his mother for longer than a few minutes before.

“Of course you can.” She turns back to the pot. “Do you want to help?” She asks you. “I’m making one of Javier’s favorite ‘garbage’ dinners he loves so much.” She rolls her eyes but there is a smile on her face when she thinks about how her son had begged her to make the unhealthy food.

“Frito Pie?” One of your eyebrows immediately raises curiously at the bag of corn chips on the counter. Just because you and Javier have only been going steady for a few months doesn’t mean you haven’t picked up on things. Plus, you had never heard of the concoction before meeting him anyway. “I don’t know much about cooking, but I can follow instructions.”

She chuckles and moves to make room for you at the stove. “Cooking isn’t done with recipes.” She tells you. “Most of the time I follow a recipe one time and then change it to fit Chucho or Javi’s taste.”

“So…more chilis.” It had been a serious wake up call, coming from the bland, generically creamy foods that your mom and all the church ladies in your town in Colorado had cooked. In Texas the two most important ingredients are meat and spice. You move up to the counter beside the stove and peer in, laughing at the facial you get from the big pot of sautéed onions and things you can’t quite identify by smell alone. It makes you grin and sigh happily. “I wish my mother could cook like you.”

“I will teach you and then you will teach her.” She tries so very hard to keep her opinion of your parents to herself, although she has mentioned to Chucho more than once that she doesn’t understand how a girl as sweet as you are can come from such a strict and domineering household. “And if you help, you get to eat some of your hard work, too.” She tells you with a wink.

“Now that is a motivator.” It’s useless and would simply be rude to tell her that your family couldn’t survive her cooking for the most part - god forbid they eat something with flavor. But you hang your - Javi’s - letterman sweater on the back of a chair and stick your hands under the sink to wash up. “What can I help with?”

“If you want to make the pico.” She nods towards a cutting board. “Chop the tomatoes and onion finely.” She firmly believed that while the Frito pie was a bastardized version of unholy hell, Javier loved it and the only way it was palette able was with fresh crema and pico de gallo. She would not budge on that point.

It doesn’t take long to get a cutting board and knife in front of you, though your skills with a knife are definitely limited. You’ve been hunting with your father since you were eleven, but cutting vegetables requires a slightly lighter hand. The radio hums pleasantly in the background, playing the newest song from Stevie Wonder, and Javier’s mother knows every word. She dances at the stove, stirring and moving her feet, and for about the hundredth time you find yourself admiring the way she always seems to have a spring in her step. That’s the kind of sway and smile you want to have when you’re her age, too.

******

September 10, 1993:

If the kitchen of your apartment smelled any better, you would swear it was Mama Peña smiling down on all those cooking lessons finally paying off. The music on the radio is salsa, but you know most of the words and can fake a few steps as you dance with your wooden spoon in between stirring the pot of chili on the stove. Javi’s been having a tough time lately and you decided this morning that the best thing to cheer him up is a stomach full of nostalgia. Frito Pie with his ma’s pico de gallo chilling in the fridge and a pitcher of sweet tea beside it. You even managed to find real Fritos at the bodega on your lunch break earlier. If this doesn’t cheer him up, then the lack of lingerie under your clothes definitely will…

There’s a moment where he doesn’t want to put the key in the door. Shame and anger weigh heavily on him and he knows you will spot it the second you see him. You’ve always read him like a book. How is he supposed to tell you that he’s being sent home in disgrace? That he’s being punished for trying to catch Escobar, albeit the wrong way? After Carrillo was killed, he just wanted to take the fucker down, and working with Los Pepes seemed reasonable. Now, because of it, he was off the case, maybe out of the DEA. He sighs as he slides the key into the lock, hearing the rasp of the tumblers as he twists it, and the door opens to the apartment he shares with you.

“Hey, babe!” You can hear the door creak open from the kitchen and reach to turn down the radio while you call out to him. “Whiskey or beer? Dinner’s almost ready!”

“Hey.” You sound so damn happy. He drags his jacket off and sighs. “Whiskey. Set the bottle out.” He calls back and takes off his boots. You insist that he doesn’t need to be fully dressed in the apartment all the time unless he was working and his boots coming off at the door had been the first concession towards that.

“Bad day?” It’s in his voice before he even rounds the corner, and you quickly pour a few fingers into a glass for him. On the rare occasion that he’s home first, he’ll do the same with your glass of rum. It’s the little things, you’ve found, as you settled into married life together. The moment you see his face, though, your heart drops into your toes. “What happened? Are you okay? Is Steve okay?”

“Steve’s fine.” He assures you, knowing you will worry about it until he tells you. You and Connie becoming thicker than thieves and he’s ruined that for you. “I—” He shakes his head. “I fucked up, Gacelita.”

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.” His glass is pressed into his hand at the same time you press a reassuring kiss to his lips. If he’s straight-out telling you it’s a fuck up, though? That’s pretty bad. Normally Javi goes straight to making a plan to fix whatever is broken. “Do you…want to talk about it? Or do you want to drink about it?” You know he’ll talk to you eventually, but sometimes he needs to brood first.

He shakes his head, knowing that you deserve to know. This affects you too. “I—I’m being sent back to the States. Immediately.”

“…Fuck.” The way your eyes blow wide is definitely not the supportive, optimistic tone you were hoping would come out of your mouth, but it is what it is. “What happened?”

Javi sighs and drops down into a chair, his hand curling around the drink you poured for him. “I—I fed information to Don Berna and Los Pepes when my hands were tied.” Guilt eats away at him, and he can’t meet your eyes. “Judy Moncado talked.”

“Javi…” Honestly your gut instinct is to be pissed. To ask him what the fuck he was thinking. But you know what he was thinking. He was trying to end this godforsaken, bullshit drug war that only ever seems to get worse. By whatever means necessary. You drop down at the table beside him, slipping your hand into one of his and squeezing. He doesn’t need his wife to give him a lecture - he looks like he’s been given one by anyone who knows and himself all before getting home. You’re supposed to be his partner. His support. “Are you being sent home, or are you being discharged?” You ask softly, hating the way he winces slightly at your touch, like he doesn’t deserve it. After all the work he’s done - every ounce of literal blood, sweat, and tears - for the DEA to just fire him would be unimaginably cruel. But organizations like that can’t afford to have a heart.

“I—I don’t know.” He admits quietly. “They are going to call me to Washington after Escobar is caught. They— they want to see if my actions impeded the case.”

“Okay.” After everything he’s put into this… You swallow a heavy sigh and widen your fingers a little, lacing them through his to hold his hand tight. “So, we don’t have to go to Washington yet.” But you will eventually - and fuck that’s going to be hell on him. “Honey, I’m…shit. I’m so sorry. You’ve been working harder on this than even I knew.”

“I—” He takes a deep breath. “Crosby— uh, he said you can stay.” He breathes out, his heart clenching in his chest at the idea. However, you loved your work and you shouldn’t suffer because he fucked up. “I understand if you want to.”

“Fuck no.” Your brow furrows, looking at him like he’s grown three extra heads in half a second’s time. “Not a chance in hell, baby. Crosby can find a new secretary. We’re going home together.” The idea is completely ludicrous. There’s no reason for you to be anywhere that he isn’t, especially if it’s a completely different country. “They keep both Peñas or they get none at all.”

His shoulders relax slightly. The worry that you will want to stay fading. “I’m sorry, Gacelita.” He murmurs. “I was— I fucked up. It, I got in over my head after Horacio died.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me.” Leaning forward, you wrap your arms around him and kiss his temple before pressing your forehead to the very same spot. “You did what you thought would help, come hell or high water.” You aren’t the one he’s wronged here - not really. You always knew you would give up your post at the embassy eventually in good order, happily turning in high heels for cowboy boots. The person he’s hurt most here is himself, and he doesn’t need you to tell him that. “I’m not mad, and I don’t love you any less, so please get that guilty bullshit out of your head.”

“I’m pissed.” Javi admits, his arms coming around you. “I’ve worked this fucking thing for nearly ten year and now— right when we are so close, they are sending me home. I’ve fucking done so many horrible things, all to catch this bastard.”

“Oh, I’m pissed at them for sending you home,” you clarify, realizing the distinction is important here. “I’m not mad at you for doing what you felt was necessary.”

He clings to you for a moment, basking in your scent, the safety of your arms and the love that you so generously heap upon him. “We are leaving in two days.” He sighs. “They won’t give me anymore time. They want me out of the country.”

“I’ll hand in my resignation and clear out our desks tomorrow, then.” Practically crushing him to your chest doesn’t really fix anything, but it does make you feel a little better to have him solidly in your arms. Whenever things go wrong, you both always seem to hold each other a little tighter for a few days. “We should call Pops.” You murmur into his hair. “Assuming you’re still on board with going back to Texas?”

“Where the fuck else am I going to go?” The words come out more bitter than he intended them. But it’s the feeling of being sent to the corner for time out like a bad boy that has him bristling.

“Wherever we chose, Javier.” It’s not you that he’s angry with, you remind yourself when his tone makes you jump a little. “There’s two of us, and we’ve talked about settling down other places besides Laredo, so I’m making sure we’re on the same page. That’s all.” Discussions about California had dusted the debate of where to settle down after you’d convinced Javi that he would hate New York. You had even briefly considered New Mexico or Florida. But you always came back to Texas in the end.

“I’m sorry.” His tone mellows, his hands rub over your back. “I’m just feeling like a fucking failure.” He admits softly. “I don’t mean to take my shit out on you.”

“Let me take dinner off the stove.” Arms squeezing him tight once more before you step across the kitchen, your turn the knob on the radio until clicks off and set the large pot of chili aside. There’s no telling if he’s too upset to eat, or if this is a rare occasion when he wants to eat his feelings. “Baby…if this goes south…are we looking at jail time?” There are a lot of men deported from Colombia in the American federal prison system because of him, and you dread the thought of what could happen to him inside.

He shakes his head. “No.” He knows that wouldn’t happen. It was more the ass chewing he got from Crosby that confirmed that than anything else. “Nothing like that.”

“Thank god for small favors.” Pacing back over to him, both of your hands smooth over his tense shoulders and you sigh. “Then fuck it. Let’s go home. No more people shooting at you and no more unwinnable war.” It’s not as simple as that, either emotionally or mentally, but you know that for his sake you can’t dwell on it. Better to take the thing that is being forced on him and try to put a positive spin on it if you can.

His small bark of laughter is rough. But his hands tug you down into his lap. The need to hold you and use you to anchor him is too great to ignore. “You made Frito pie.” He mumbles against your shirt.

“You’ve been stressed lately.” Now, of course, you understand why and you shrug lamely. “I thought it might cheer you up a little.”

“You cheer me up.” He promises, head still buried between your breasts, and he sighs. “But half that pie is mine. As long as there’s pico.”

“As long as there’s pico.” You huff, mimicking him in a high voice. “That’s the first thing your mother ever taught me to make, do you think I would forget it?”

“No.” He actually pulls his lips up in a smile. “Because you are a good wife.” He teases.

“I do my best.” Your hands frame his cheeks, bringing his eyes up to yours. “You stood next to me proudly when I started over, now it’s my turn to do that for you. Whatever you need, all you have to do is ask, okay?”

“I just need you.” He promises softly. “I’m upset, but I’m okay as long as I have you.”

“I’m right here with you.” Dropping a kiss on the tip of his nose, you grin when he wrinkles his face at you reflexively. “We can make the best of this, baby. I promise.”

“I hope you aren’t too upset at me.” He murmurs softly.

“I’m upset that they took you off the case.” You try always to be completely honest with him, so claiming you’re not upset at all isn’t going to fly. But at least you can be specific about what’s doing it. “But I’m not upset that we get to start the next part of our lives together. Even if it’s a little sooner than we expected.”

He pulls away from you with a sigh. “Let’s eat, baby. I remember you don’t like Frito pie cold.”

“Cold chili is for maniacs and supervillains.” You tell him, moving across the kitchen again to get the pico and sweet tea out of the fridge.

“So which category do you place me in?” He asks with a small chuckle. He groans at the sight of the pitcher of tea. “I swear I’m getting a gut because of you.” He complains, rubbing his hand over his belly.

“You could always start getting up with me in the morning to work out a little.” You can barely get the sentence out with a straight face, giggling at the very idea of Javier doing sunrise runs with you. “Or I guess I can just stop cooking all your favourite foods.”

“Do I fucking look like I like running anymore?” He huffs playfully at you. “You get me up to run and there won’t be any fucking at all.”

“I can think of another form of exercise.” You mumble into the glass of tea you’ve just poured for yourself. It’s not that you want to push him, but your heart definitely leapt up into your throat when you realized what else going back to the States could mean.

He grins, hearing you. His eyes might be shit according to Steve but his ears were still sharp. “You wanna roll around in the hay loft like we’re sixteen again? Is that what I’m hearing?”

“Think you can manage it without throwing your back out, old man?” Javi’s constant bitching about how everything hurts after 30 - as if you don’t already know - definitely leaves him wide open for that teasing.

“Fuck off.” He huffs playfully. “I haven’t seen you jumping off rooftops and chasing fucking sicarios across a comuna.” He does the incredibly mature thing and mean mugs you.

You’re sorely tempted to make a joke about how chasing sicarios is just a warm-up for chasing his own kids, but you falter. It’s never something he wants to talk about, seemingly preferring it stay a topic of the amorphous future. “There will be plenty to do around the ranch,” you say instead, nodding your head like a bobble-headed doll. “A little roll in the hayloft now and then will be well-earned.”

He snorts. “That’s gonna be where our firstborn is conceived.” He jokes, reaching for his glass of tea. The one bright and shining moment out of all of this is maybe that conversation can happen.

“It’s a miracle that it didn’t happen back then.” You hum, trying to keep the conversation light and easy while you fix your bowl and sit beside him at the table. Almost like Javi is a horse that could spook.

“Maybe it should have.” Javi mutters, reaching for your hand. “He wouldn’t have dared tried to keep us apart then.”

“Can you imagine?” The fact that he actually sounds wistful takes you off guard and you quirk your head at him. “They’d be seventeen by now.”

“God, we are old.” He sighs and squeezes your fingers lightly. “What do you think about - uh, stopping your birth control?” He asks. “Is that something you’d want to do?”

“Jeez, Javi.” Squeezing his hand right back, you practically deflate with visible relief. “I thought I was going to have to pry this conversation out of you with surgical precision.”

He snorts. “I did say once I was done with Escobar.” He reminds you wryly. “And I think I’m done.” He doesn’t tell you that talking about something good in the future is helping him deal with the loss of being kicked off the team. He knows you understand that. Like marrying him helped you get through resigning your commission.

“I just didn’t think it would be a light switch kind of situation.” Scooting closer to him, you shift your whole self to give him the comforting warmth of your body just like you have his. “I’m ready when you are, mi amor. Hell, I’ve been ready, I just didn’t want to disrespect the rules we set in place.”

“We are adults.” He rolls his eyes. “If Connie and Steve could adopt Olivia, we could have talked about this if you felt strongly about it.”

“But we didn’t, and that’s okay.” Knowing what kind of stress he’s put himself under, you’re actually glad you didn’t say anything. You can’t even imagine what he would have done if your baby had been born in the middle of this war. What you would have done. “Instead, I have a stupidly long list of baby names stashed in my jewelry box.”

"As long as we don't have a fucking 'Junior', I'm good." He shakes his head and shoots you a smile, trying to find something good in all of this. "We will pack and go home. Start planning our life outside of Colombia and narcos."

“I know damn well you don’t want a junior.” You snort, shaking your head at him. “Maybe this is just the universe telling us it’s time. Giving us a good thing out of a bad situation.”

He's quiet, not answering you but he pokes at his Frito pie and eventually nods before he forks up a bite and shoves it in his mouth. It's not that he disagrees, he's just still a little too raw to look on the bright side. Maybe by the time he gets to Texas he can look at it from that perspective.

The meal is mostly quiet. Every once in a while, one of you will make a quiet comment or mention something you do or don’t want to bring to Texas with you. It’s like an awkward working dinner, almost, because you know you don’t have much time to get things packed and shipped back to the States. Some things - the lumpy couch and cheap pans - you’ll be glad to say goodbye to. Others will be more of a debate.

Javi is quiet and he enjoys the pie, but he wishes there wasn't this cloud hanging over the meal. "I— it's not the way I wanted to go home." He tells you. "I know I'm going to be moody, upset. I just don't want you to think it's because of you."

“I know that.” Your hand curls around his thigh under the table not to distract him, but as an anchor. “And I don’t want you to think that I’m disregarding or ignoring your pain because I’m trying to look for bright spots on the horizon.” Encouraging yourself to look to the future is what has gotten you through all of the hardest patches in your life, but you know not everyone copes that way.

"I love you." He is so fucking grateful you are here. If it had just been him, he would be drunk already, wallowing in self-pity. Instead of doing that, he is eating dinner with his wife and discussing the future.

“I love you, too.” Squeezing his leg gently, you do offer him a gentle smile. “I know it fucking sucks right now, but we’ll be okay.”

******

“So your little Gacelita…how are things going?” Javier’s face burns when his dad mentions you. Turning to stare out the window at the passing fence posts, his stomach flips just thinking about you. He’s never had it this bad. Sure, he’s always liked - no, loved - girls, but you are completely different. “It’s good, Pops.” He mumbles quietly. The rattle of the truck on the rough roads is loud and he hopes that’s all there is to this conversation.

Chucho glances over at his son beside him in the bench seat and chuckles softly to himself. Javier is nearly red just from you being mentioned at all. He’s going to set fire before they make it back to the ranch. “Good?” He asks, voice laced with amusement. “You made plans for Valentine’s Day next weekend?”

“Yeah, um—” He blanks out and his eyes widen in horror. He’s not planned a damn thing beyond the flowers he ordered from Mrs. Rodriguez. “No. I’m gonna blow this and she’s gonna dump me.”

“Whoa, mijo, whoa.” The ferocity of his teen’s reaction makes him chuckle again. Everything is life or death when you’re sixteen - he remembers that well enough. “She not going to dump you, Javi. And you’re not going to mess anything up. Let your old man help you brainstorm a little.”

Javi bites his lip, embarrassed because the idea of you dumping him has him close to fucking tears. He shakes his head. “Nothing to fucking do here. Not unless I take her somewhere else.” He spits out more harshly than he intended, trying to cover his emotions.

“Where would you take her?” This conversation might be easier to steer than he first expected, and Chucho glances at Javier expectantly. He’s sixteen, and even though his girlfriend is a few months younger that doesn’t stop all those hormones from raging. Sixteen was how old he and Maria were when they started going steady, too. He’s not naive enough to think Javi is any different from him.

“Nice dinner.” He sighs. “Something better than the diner.” He looks over at his father and wonders what he did for his ma on their first Valentine’s Day. Not that he tries to wonder too hard about their relationship. That makes him queasy, especially since he knows they wanted more kids. “She’s special and she deserves more.”

“Do you want to borrow the truck? Get out of town for the night?” Chucho was planning on taking Maria out for dinner and a movie - a rare date night for two people who continuously keep busy - and they can easily take Maria’s little car into downtown for that. These kids…Chucho tries not to sigh. It’s obvious how crazy they are about each other, and he wants to make sure Javi is being safe and responsible. Too many things can go wrong when you’re young and impulsive and so clearly in the throes of puppy love. “I want to help, mijo. She’s a good girl and I know you…like her. A lot.”

Javi sighs. “I don’t think her dad will let me take her out of town.” He admits. It was too far away for somewhere really nice. He sighs again and gets an idea. “What about a picnic. Girls like those, right?”

“Girls like picnics.” His father agrees easily. His feelings about your parents don’t belong in this conversation. “Maybe you could take the truck into town and get a nice dinner from someplace nice? Eat under the stars?” It’s not so far off from his and Maria’s first Valentine’s Day, actually.

“She loves going down to the river.” He tells his dad. “I could put some blankets in the back of the truck and we could eat on the riverbank.” He straightens up slightly, cheered up by the idea. “That would be good. Romantic, right?”

“Very romantic.” Chucho nods approvingly as the truck continues to rumble down the road toward home. “Have you thought about getting her flowers? Or a gift?” It’s not that he thinks you’ll expect any of this - no, it’s that he knows that if Javier realizes these are things other girls get from their boyfriends and he didn’t do any of it? He’ll beat himself up for weeks.

“I ordered flowers from Mrs. Rodriguez.” Javi nods. “I went with pink roses. But I still haven’t figured out if I should get her something, too. What do you get a girlfriend?” He feels more comfortable now that he knows he’s not being judged. His dad is honest with him. “We’ve been dating for months but those promise ring ideas are stupid and I— I want it to be something she loves.”

“Well, you know her better than I do, son.” He raises an eyebrow at the mention of jewelry being stupid, but keeps his mouth shut. Promise rings are things teenage boys give their girlfriends when they want to stake their claim. “What does she love?”

“Rings.” Javi chews on his lip and crosses his arms over his chest and glances over at his dad. “Promise rings are stupid, right?” There’s a sense of un surety in his tone, having convinced himself that it was dumb. “People always break up after they have them, for stupid reasons.”

“If you’re not sure, then don’t make yourself crazy about it.” It’s some of his best advice about almost anything, but he snaps his fingers at the idea of jewelry. “What about a necklace or a bracelet?” He can’t remember if you have your ears pierced, never having paid that much attention. “It’s still jewelry, but without any of that hidden meaning.” The creases around his eyes crinkle when he smiles. “Girls like jewelry, mijo. Trust me.”

“She likes necklaces.” Javi admits. “She mentioned a cameo, how she was kinda hurt that Vanessa got her abuela’s.” He mulls it over. “I could get her one for Valentine’s Day.”

Chucho tuts but doesn’t say anything, tucking away one more slight against you by your parents before he simply nods. “Cameos are very beautiful.” He agrees instead. “How about I give you an advance on some extra chores so you can get her something nice?” Maria will probably roll her eyes at him later and call him a softie, but damned if Chucho doesn’t want to help Javi make the celebration a nice one. He knows his boy is in love - he knows it as plain as the noise on his face - and he wants to teach him early that going the extra mile for someone you care about is a responsibility that is worth undertaking.

Javi grins. “That would be great! I’ll make sure that I make up for it.” He promises. “I’ll take over the morning feedings before school for the next two weeks. Let you sleep in a little.”

“So I’m getting a present, too?” He chuckles at the way Javier perks up, glad to see his son feeling more confident. But it’s not the end of the conversation. “Mijo…” Chucho clears his throat and shifts a little in his seat. “You are - you’re being responsible, verdad? Safe?”

“Pops!” His face feels like it’s going to burst into flames, and he slumps down into his seat on the bench. “We aren’t having sex! She’s too— we aren’t ready yet!” He wasn’t going to admit that it was something he thought of— a lot. What teenage boy didn’t? But he knows you aren’t ready yet, and he would rather die of blue balls than pressure you into sex. His ma would kill him, his pops would kill him after his ma got done with him.

“Okay, but mijo, it’s not just sex that needs to be safe. Sex isn’t the only kind of intimacy out there and I know you know that.” If the ground could just swallow him whole, he would be okay with that. Nothing quite prepared a man for having to talk to his teenager about sex, no matter how good the relationship between father and son is. “I was your age once, too, Javito. I just want you to know that you can talk to me.”

“She’s 15.” Javi squirms in his seat and stares at the bugs on the windshield, wishing he were one of them right now, so he didn’t have to go through this embarrassing conversation. “I’m not disgusting. I’m not like the assholes who push for blow jobs.” He practically whispers the last two words in embarrassment. “I love her.”

“I know, mijo.” How is it possible for him to actually get choked up during this conversation? Yet hearing that out of Javier’s mouth nearly does it. Those are the words of a young man, not a boy. Someone growing up to be respectful and good. Nothing could make him prouder than that. “And I know she loves you.” Javier huffs and it makes his father chuckle. “Anybody with eyes knows she loves you, too. But that’s exactly why I’m saying this. Things happen when you’re young and in love. And that’s okay, just as long as you’re responsible.”

“I— uh, they g-gave out condoms in, uh, health class.” Javi lifts his ass off the seat and pulls his wallet out from his left right back pocket. Pulling the foil wrapped rubber out just enough for his father to see. “If we do anything, I know to use it.” He swallows harshly, concentrating very hard on putting it away so he doesn’t have to look at his Pops.

“Okay.” Chucho nods, no more comfortable with the conversation than Javi is, by the looks of it. He can practically hear his son sigh in relief as the truck passes through the ranch’s open gates. “One more thing and I swear I’ll shut up,” he promises. “I don’t care how excited you get, how ready you are, anything of that.” He looks over at his son carefully. “Your first time is in a bed. End of story. If you respect her enough to take that step, then respect her enough to make her comfortable.”

“Yeah Pops.” Javi rushes out. “Can we please stop talking about this? Forever? Tell ma you gave me the talk and I’m good.”

“Yeah, mijo, we’re done. For now.” He chuckles again, mostly in his own relief, but points out the windshield at where your bicycle is leaning against the big tree outside the house when he pulls the truck to a stop. “Go say hi. You can unload the truck later.”

“Thanks Pops.” He hops out of the truck before it stops and shoots off like a rocket for the kitchen and you.

******

September 15, 1993 Laredo, TX

“Hey, there you are.” You wipe your damp hands on your jeans when you hear the front door and wander out of the kitchen with a smile. It’s been hours since Javi and Pops went into town to do a supply run and you just took a break from unpacking to come downstairs and get a drink. “How did everything go?”

“It went.” Javier rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to your lips. He had spent way longer in town than he wanted to, having to sit through too many conversations and avoid questions of why he was back in Laredo. “You aren’t working too hard, are you?”

“I have one box left from Fort Dix and then I’m all unpacked.” Both of your arms come around him instantly, the unopened can of Diet Coke in your hand completely forgotten in favour of holding him close. It’s only been a few days since you arrived back in Texas, but you have spent every waking hour relentlessly voracious in your unpacking. This place is home now - it had been years ago and it’s where you’ve decided to spend your future - and the last thing you want is to stare at half-full boxes in the corner of the master bedroom for months after Chucho was so kind as to move his things into the old guest room so you two could have the big bed and private bathroom.

“It feels weird being here.” Javi tells you, sighs into your arms. “Not bad, but you know I almost went to my old bedroom last night when I got up to take a piss?”

“You would have been lonely when you woke up.” The image of him sleepy and discombobulated makes you grin.

“I’d have been pissed before I realized what happened.” He argues. “Thinking my wife went to sleep on the couch.”

“That couch?” You huff, looking over at the threadbare living room couch a few feet away. “No, that thing is getting replaced as soon as I can convince your Dad that’s what has been causing half of his back issues. I’m not sleeping on that thing.”

Javi chuckles. “We can get Pops a recliner for his birthday. I know he’s been wanting one.”

“Perfect.” Nuzzling into the crook of his neck, you sigh happily at his familiar scent and hum. “Wanna help me with the last box? Then we can finish yours and maybe we’ll be done by tonight.”

“I’ll help you with whatever you want.” He promises, kissing your head. “I know you are ready to be unpacked and settled in.”

“It will do both of us good to feel like this is home and not some kind of weigh station.” Tipping your head back, you steal a kiss from his lips before snagging his hand and heading for the stairs. He may think you’re throwing yourself at all the unpacking a little too hard, but he’ll thank you when it’s done.

“What all do we have left to unpack?” He asks. “I think I’ve just got a box of physiology books. But I’m not unpacking them right now.”

“You have a half a box of stuff left that looks like albums and VHSs. I’m not sure what’s in my last box, to be honest.” At the top of the stairs you turn left instead of right, reminding yourself silently (like he had needed reminding last night) not to go to his old bedroom. “It was all sealed up at Dix and I just threw it in the truck.”

“Oh yeah.” Javi smirks and waggles his eyebrows at you. “Uh, don’t put those VHS tapes out in the living room.” He warns you. “Might give Pops a heart attack.”

“It’s those tapes. Got it.” Steve and Connie had given Javi a beautiful, sleek new camcorder last Christmas and the two of you had been putting it to good use ever since. But they are definitely not the sort of home videos you’ll be sharing with your father-in-law.

Javi snickers. “You don’t want your father-in-law to see you naked?” He asks playfully, slapping your ass as you walk into the bedroom.

“That’s not exactly on my list of good things in life.” You laugh, shaking your head at him as he follows you into the room and plops down on the big bed. “I love him, but the biggest eyeful he’ll ever get of me is in a bathing suit.”

He chuckles and hefts the last box you have up into the bed and reaches into his pocket for his knife. “Come see what this stuff is.” He motions you over.

The only labeling on it is your last name, and considering it’s your maiden name, the box has to be considerably older than just the most recent move. “Oh shit…” you murmur, when the first thing to catch your eye on the top of its contents is your high school letterman sweater. “No wonder I can’t remember what’s in this box. It’s been packed up since the Stone Age.”

“Oh?” He perks up slightly. Javier is nosy by training and snooping through your things sounds appealing. “Your very own time capsule huh? Like my old bedroom?”

“You could say that.” Holding up the sweater, you throw him a lopsided grin. “Remember these?”

“Oh God, you kept that?” He huffs, taking it from you and holding it up. “We’re going to have our twenty-year reunion soon.” He shakes his head.

“I guess I know what I’m wearing.” You grin when he wraps it around his shoulders like a shawl. “And then when we come home, I can wear just these, just for you.” The smile on your face turns a little naughty when you pull a white satin sash and dainty little rhinestone tiara out of the box next. Connie and Steve had nearly lost their minds when you told them (after a little too much rum) that you and Javi had been prom king and queen your senior year. “I guess this is all my high school stuff. I just kept bringing the box with me every time I moved instead of tossing it.”

“I’m surprised.” He admits softly. “I figured you would have gotten rid of it all.”

“Honestly?” Setting the prom tokens aside, you shrug at him and dig back in to pull out a photo album next. “I probably just shoved it in the back of my closet when I left for boot camp and just eventually forgot what was inside.”

He sighs, knowing there is no reason for either one of you to feel guilty about anything. You open the album, and he rests his chin on your shoulder as he smothers the guilty feeling of how he should have tracked you down. “Oh my god. Kids.” He mutters. “We were kids.”

“Look at you!” It comes out as a squeal, immediately followed by manic giggling as you flip through page after page of you and Javi as teens when it finally dawns on you what this box is. “Oh my god…” You shove the album aside and dive back into the box, knocking things around a little until you prove to yourself that you’re right. “This is…this is my Javi box…” Holy fucking time capsule Batman.

“Your ‘Javi box’?” His brow shoots up and when you open it, he waits for you to get the dreamy, awe struck look off your face and show him what’s inside.

“Yeah, it’s—” Completely overcome with all of the memories you didn’t know you still had, you tip the box over on the bed and watch his eyes widen as a time capsule of your early years together spills out in front of him. But the little blue velvet box in your hand is cradled safely in your fingers for him to see inside. “It’s all the things about us that I boxed up and put away after…after everything happened. Photos, mementos, all your gifts…” Gifts like the little cameo necklace from your first Valentine’s Day currently nestled in your hand.

“Jesus.” His fingers trace over the ivory of the silhouette. “I remember this so clearly. I almost got you a promise ring, but I was worried that it would be a bad omen.”

“A bad omen?” Lifting the necklace out of its box, you immediately reach to clasp the necklace around the back of your neck and adjust the collar of your shirt so the pendant sits comfortably on your chest. It’s wonderfully nostalgic to wear it again, and you lift one eyebrow at him as you remember the other very important detail of that particular night. “Because you knew I was going to give you a hand job in the bed of the truck?”

He smirks at the memory. “No, I definitely didn’t anticipate the hand job.” He huffs at you. “It seemed like everyone gave their girlfriends promise rings only to break up two weeks later.” He shakes his head. “It’s stupid looking back on it now, but I was scared it would happen to us.”

“That’s not stupid.” You promise him, but you have a shit-eating grin plastered on your face that belies the sweet tone in your voice. “You’re just a big softie. Always have been. Big, bad Javier Peña is really just a teddy bear when he’s in love.”

“Fuck off.” He rolls his eyes, even as he pulls you into his arms. “Remind me why I married you again?”

“Because you looooooove me.” Giggling against his chest, both of your hands come up to cup his cheeks so you can press your lips to his. “You’re my teddy bear.”

He huffs but doesn’t pull away. “Jerk.” He smirks against your lips, his hands sliding down to grip your ass.

“Your jerk.” You giggle evilly, rolling your hips a little to push your ass further into his hand. He hasn’t been particularly playful over the last few days - which is completely understandable - but it’s nice to see little glimpses of humor from him like this.

“Yes, you are.” He winks at you, leaning in and kissing you again. He pats your ass in a playful spank. “You can make it up to me. Wearing that tiara and sash tonight. No.” He changes his mind. “Just the cameo.”

“Scandalous.” Your tone is all faux shock, but the way you nip at his bottom lip is pure agreement. “Just the cameo, just for you.” If you’re honest with yourself, it will probably be at least a week or two before you go without it again. Finding back such a precious memory is something you hadn’t expected.

“Always hated how sad you were that your sister got your grandmother’s.” He murmured. “Imagined you passing it down to our daughter.”

“We can pass down this one.” It’s unbelievable to you, how he still remembers such seemingly small details so many years later. If you asked him, he would say that it’s not small at all, but that doesn’t stop you from appreciating the way he really listens to you and always has. It’s a highly underrated skill, the way he listens. “If we have two girls, we can let them pick from my jewelry box.”

“If we have two girls, I’m finding a cameo that is exactly the same.” Javier huffs. “We’re gonna be communists in our household. One will not be more important than the other.”

“How about we just let them have their own personalities instead of deciding for them what they’ll like?” You grin and kiss him gently before shrugging a little. “Vanessa didn’t even want it. Dad just never wanted me to get girly gifts.”

He snorts and shakes his head. “Idiot.” He kisses you again. “So, you know Danny’s wedding is this weekend.” He reminds you softly.

“Mmhmm.” Another stolen kiss and you grin against his lips. “I gotta wear more than just the cameo to that, though.”

“Yeah…Lorraine’s been invited.” He tries to break the news gently, knowing you still feel things about her part in the lies.

You frown instantly, unable to hide your reaction to her name. Her existence. It’s not that you haven’t had plenty of time as a couple to work past what happened, it’s that you haven’t seen her since you found out what she did, and you can’t completely guarantee that you won’t want to smack the Aqua Net right out of her hair. “It’s Danny’s wedding, I won’t start shit.” That much you can promise. “But you bet your ass I’m going to dress the fuck up and drag you onto the dance floor as many times as you’ll let me.”

He groans at the prospect of having to dance. "I'm not dressing up." He warns you. "It would be weird if I did. But I'll dance with you. Just to say thank you for not starting shit."

“Will you at least wear slacks instead of jeans?” No one in his family is very fancy, and you sort of love that about them, but you do want to be respectful of how important the day is. “I’m not even asking for a tie, baby. We both know I’ll be in my cowboy boots with my dress. Half-fancy, if you will.”

He huffs and gives a small shrug. "It's supposed to be jeans." He reminds you. "I was going to wear the new ones you bought me and that red plaid shirt you bought with it."

“Alright, alright, jeans.” Huffing and rolling your eyes as though it were a big deal, you slip your hand down to his ass and squeeze. “All that matters is that I get to be there with you. It’s Danny’s day and we’re just there for them.”

******

He's more relaxed than he honestly thought he would be. It's been years since he's really been to any of the large family gatherings. Even though family and friends used any opportunity they could to get together and celebrate, Danny's wedding was still fun. People he hadn't seen in years, Danny included - dressed sharply in his Marine uniform - all talking and catching up. It was nice. His Nicorette gum keeps that craving for a cigarette at bay, knowing you will kill him if he sneaks outside for the rare smoke, his eyes roam the community center room, looking for you.

“You lose her again?” Chucho chuckles when he plops down beside his son at a table, obviously craning his neck to find you in the crowd. “Your tía Juanita caught her getting a sangria refill. You’ll be lucky to pry your esposa away in about five years the way Juanita is talking at her.”

Javi chuckles and shakes his head, "Well I guess I won't be getting her back anytime soon." He tells his pops. "All of this reminds me that I need to get my wife an engagement ring."

“All this reminded you?” That makes Chucho laugh again, but he shakes his head at his son. “You really didn’t have time for yourselves down there, did you?”

“I went the day we got married to get her ring.” He huffs, feeling a little self-conscious. “It was about making sure she could stay in Colombia and then…I was trying make sure I got everything done.”

“Okay, so she needs an engagement ring.” The elder Peña nods in authoritative agreement. “I don’t know what you’ll find here, but they just opened a new jewelry store in the mall.” The place he had bought Maria’s things closed down years ago, and it’s not as though Chucho has bought much jewelry lately. “You might have to drive out to Corpus Christi.”

Javi purses his lips. “Yeah.” He looks around and reaches up to rub the back of his neck.

“You’ve got a couple of months before your anniversary.” He tries to be encouraging, wishing he had held on to the engagement ring that Javier had bought when you were kids. What he wouldn’t give to be able to return it to the two of you now - but Maria had taken charge of selling it years ago. “Plenty of time to find something she’ll like.”

“Yeah.” Javi’s mind whirls as he imagines giving you a ring for your anniversary. “I just have to see if her taste has changed.”

It takes a moment, but Chucho sighs slightly and takes a sip of the beer that has been sitting in front of him since he sat down. “You’re welcome to give her anything of your Ma’s, mijo. I have her jewelry box in my closet.” He hasn’t been able to even open it since she died. It had been sitting on the dresser collecting dust like a relic until he moved his things into the spare room so the two of you could have the master bedroom. But he knows it’s what Maria would want him to say. She loved you like a daughter even back then. She would be proud to see you wear her things.

"Thanks Pops." Javi reaches over and squeezes his father's arm. He knows how much his mother's death was felt by the older man every day. He could honestly say that he had an amazing example of what true love was in his parents and he had never felt it with anyone other than you. It was the reason he had never settled down after getting out of marrying Lorraine. "We can look through her jewelry after. I know she would be honored."

“She cried the night I told her you wanted to propose.” Chucho huffs at the memory, a watery smile creeping across his face. “She was so proud of you. Growing up so fast and ready to jump in headfirst.” She had also been devastated right alongside her son when you had left, but at least Maria had had a better idea where to lay the blame.

Javi sighs, remembering that time when he was so very happy and then upset when you told him you were moving. That upset turning to bitter anger, your name a curse in his eyes and he refused to talk about you, to anyone. "I wish she could have seen where we ended up." He murmurs softly.

“Tu madré está mirando.” Chucho promises, his voice just as quiet. “Ella sabe.” (Your mother is watching. She knows.)

Both men are quiet as they think about the woman that each of them had loved in different ways. Javi looks over at you again and gives a soft smile. "I better go save her, so she doesn't starve to death." He jokes. "That's a sin at a party around here."

Talking to Tía Juanita is a little like having an overexciting happy dog nipping at your heels - it’s fun for about two minutes before you’re already exhausted and wishing she weren’t so sweet, so you’d have an excuse to run away. But as the youngest of Chucho’s sisters, you smile and nod and make delighted sounds at all the right places in the stories about her kids, waiting for the ball to drop on the question. “Ay, querida, when are you and Javier going to give us some beautiful bebitas?” You smile, and sigh inwardly at the inevitability and how often you’ve been asked that today by his various relatives and all your old friends. “We’re working on it,” you tell them all with a breezy chuckle, wishing you knew where Javi is.

Javi moves through the crowd of people, nodding at various family friends and smiling at a couple of cousins. Jesus, when did Isabella have twins? He finds you and his hand automatically goes to your waist. "Gacelita, Tía." He murmurs.

You turn in to kiss his cheek immediately, hiding the quick way you pinch his arm as if to ask Where have you been? but his tía jumps in before you can say a word. “Javito, why are you not dancing with your bride?” Juanita scolds, obviously considering it the greatest injustice in the world that you have been neglected. “How do you expect to give her a baby if you will not even dance with her?”

His grin is hidden when he leans in to kiss your neck. “Because dancing leads to babies?” He whispers in your ear. “Let me steal her from you and correct that. tía.” He guides you away from his aunt easily with her waving the two of you away.

Burying your amused chuckle in his shoulder, you lean easily into your husband’s side on the makeshift dance floor and wrap your arms around him. “Everything leads to babies if you ask Juanita.”

“Well then we should already have about twenty.” Javi teases you softly, tugging you close and starting to sway to the country song.

“Thank god for birth control,” you joke quietly. You’ve only been off the pill for about two weeks at this point, having made the decision to start trying for a baby the night the Miami Herald story broke and Javi was told he was being sent home. It was the silver lining in all the bad - a thing to look forward to despite all the heartache. “Twenty is definitely too many.”

“What? You don’t think you could have that many?” He teases. “I’m honestly surprised I don’t have any mini Peñas running around.”

“I am completely okay with you not having a bunch of kids with other women.” You grumble, knowing your possessiveness is showing.

He chuckles, smirking at the way that your hands tighten around him. His gaze roams around the room and he spots the blonde hair of probably the biggest embodiment of that statement. “Nope, no kids and no other women for me.” He promises.

“Danny looks happy.” The last time you saw Javi’s young cousin he was maybe six years old. He had grown into every inch a typical Peña man - broad shoulders and black hair with a hint of mischief always in his eyes. “I’m glad we came, mi amor.”

“Me too.” He sees Lorraine turn and her eyes widen slightly when she catches sight of Javi. “Although that might change in a minute.”

“Did she see us?” True to your word, you hadn’t said anything when you spotted Lorraine across the community center about a half hour ago. You had just excused yourself to powder your nose and stopped to get a refill of your drink, and then been blindsided by tía Juanita.

“Yep.” Javi pops the ‘p’ and looks back at you. “Head out or head on?” He asks, wanting to know how you wanted to handle this.

You blow out a breath, sending the hair on the back of his neck waving in the breeze, before you turn your head slightly to kiss his cheek. “Head on. Let’s just deal with it. Otherwise it’s only going to get more dramatic and awkward.”

He hums in agreement and squeezes your waist before he pulls away and you turn slightly as you walk off the dance floor. Javi moves his hand to your back and rubs it slightly when Lorraine walks up.

“Well, you could just blow me over with a feather. Lookit what the cat dragged in.” The smile is painted on her face and you can’t tell if her twang has deepened with the effort of trying to keep her faux delight in place, or if it’s just got thicker over time. Her eyes dart over you nervously, and you can feel the shock at seeing you roll off her in waves. “Good of y’all to come celebrate with Danny while you’re in town.”

"Town gossip apparently isn't what it used to be." Javi muses, looking over at you with wry amusement. "You didn't hear that we've moved back? We aren't just in town, we're here to stay." He tells her with no little amount of glee in him over watching her smile tighten.

“Ya don’t say?” Of course she had heard. Cindy Hightower had practically run to her house with the news after seeing you at the supermarket last week, deeming it much too important for a phone call.

“Mm.” Your noncommittal hum is punctuated by the way you rope your arm around Javier’s waist to deliberately flash your wedding band in the buzzing halogen lights of the center. “Married almost two years now. Guess the universe just couldn’t keep us apart. No matter how hard it tried.”

It’s interesting to see the color flood her cheeks. “Well, it’s good and all to see that some childish things never get old.” She gives a wooden smile. “Two years and no babies? Not for you? I’m sure that it’s a horrible downgrade from being in the Army. Although I'm sure Chucho gave up on grandbabies when Jav ...left."

“Not everyone measures their marriage by how many children they’ve had,” you remind her, simultaneously reminding yourself not to just straight up punch her in the jaw for her part in what happened. “But since you’re ever so curious—” Nosy. “Our work has kept us plenty busy, but this time next year I’m sure there will be another little set of feet pattering around the ranch.”

“Really?” Lorraine arches a brow and her lips purse in a smile that is not quite genuine. “Well, I’m happy to hear that! I’m sure the doctors know what they are doing.”

What the fuck does that mean? You refuse to show confusion in your face though, simply smiling back and squeezing Javi’s side a little. “I’m sure we’ll see you around town,” you say, trying your best to sound polite as you step backward to nudge Javi back toward the dance floor.

Javi nods, and his eyes drift past Lorraine to where Randy is minding the two children that she had created with the man she married after he had left her at the altar. "Give Randy my best." He tells her as he turns and gives you his total attention. "I think she was taking a pot shot at us having kids at our age." He huffs as he pulls you into his arms. "Or I am reading too much into that doctor comment?"

“Is that what she meant?” Burying your frown in his shoulder, you huff when he starts to away lightly with you in his arms. “She remembers I’m younger than her, right?” Mid 30s isn’t exactly ancient, even if it feels like it sometimes.

"Don't listen to anything she says." He huffs. "She's just bitter that no one is upset that I left her at the altar."

“Cunt as dry at Chihuahuan Desert.” You’re grumbling - you know you’re grumbling - but passive aggressive church lady rivalries aren’t your style. You’d much rather land a right hook and then call the whole thing over with. You can take the girl out of the Army, but you can’t take the Army out of the girl. “Don’t know how you survived her sometimes.”

Javi flashes you a grin. “I was drunk most of the time.” He admits, leaning in a kissing you softly. “Enough beer you don’t care. I think my liver was happy I went into the DEA.”

“Jesus.” The grimace you give him is pronounced. “The DEA was light drinking?” You’ve both cut back since leaving Colombia, just out of reduced stress.

“Yeah.” Javi shakes his head and looks around the reception hall. “Are you ready to leave, baby?”

“Might as well.” Things are suddenly feeling less festive, and Chucho drove separately to the church, so you don’t have to feel guilty about asking him to leave early. “Maybe we can sneak out the back without your tías noticing.”

Javi's hand slides down and he squeezes your ass. "If we run into any of them, we will just tell them that we are going to make babies." He teases.

“They’ll throw us a damn parade.” You snicker and press in to kiss him softly. “Let’s go home, baby.”

You both make your way over to Danny and his bride, congratulating them again before both of you are out the door and hustling across the parking lot with the mid-evening sun of September still blinding everything and making him hand his aviators over to you. He's learned that you refuse to carry sunglasses and he keeps a spare pair in the truck for just that occasion.

“I missed the way Texas smells.” Living all over the world has given you the odd insight that places have very distinct natural aromas the way people do, and the dry southern Texas heat with its particular flora carries a particular scent you’ve never encountered anywhere else. “I know that’s weird. But it…it smells like home.”

"Sweat, dirt, and cows mixed with the Grande?" He lifts a brow at you as he starts the truck and puts it in drive. "That's home?"

“Yes.” You roll your eyes at him and snort. “All that, plus your boot stink.”

He huffs at you, shaking his head and muttering under his breath. "you" incoherent mumbling "- stink."

“Excellent comeback. Very mature. Very articulate.” Dissolving into laughter beside him, it’s all you can do not to fold in half in the passenger seat from his ridiculous rebuttal.

"Fuck off." He turns his head to hide his own grin, even though his hand slides across the console so he can grab your thigh. "I'll just have to take my boot stink somewhere else." He threatens playfully.

“Why do you think I make you take them off at the door?” The playful bickering is easy. Just teasing between two people aimlessly crazy about each other who are still ball busters.

"I honestly thought it was because you didn't want cow shit tracked through the house. But apparently it's because the boots stink." He shakes his head. "Not like your bras don't smell like shit before you wash them because of your tits sweating."

You snort in amusement, raising at eyebrow at him as he drives. “If my tits are so gross then why do you like to suck on them so much?”

"I did not say your tits are gross." He corrects you quickly. "I said your bras get gross." He chuckles. "I could ask the same question about my dick." He doesn't know how the two of you really got on this conversation, but he loves the fact that he can joke with you. Even as he hates being sent home, there is a certain light heartedness about being back home.

“I can just stop sucking your dick if you’re concerned about hygiene.” Honestly, if Javi had issues with cleanliness, you would have cured them with shower sex by now. But making you kiss an ashtray was his worst offense, and he switched over to nicotine gum more than a year ago.

"Got it...no bitching about the gross bras. Noted." He smirks over at you. "You could do it now, if you wanted." He teases, waggling his brows and glancing at the road before he looks down at his crotch.

“You want road head after teasing me about under-boob sweat?” Your tone is fully teasing, but you’re already shifting in your seat to lay across the bench.

"It's only cause I'm jealous of the bra." Javi confesses, his tone serious. "It's my job to hold up your tits."

“Are you going to walk behind me all day every day? Just be my human bra all the time and hold up my tits?” The image makes you giggle again, even as your fingers dance across the front of his jeans to pull open his belt.

“Shit, are you really?” He chokes when you cup him through the jeans. “Fuck.”

“Eyes on the road, handsome.” The warning is sing-song, as you pull open Javi’s belt and pop the button on his jeans to be able to drag his zipper down easily. True to form, he didn’t bother to put on boxers or any other kind of underwear today, and the moment his jeans are open you practically drool at how he’s half hard just from having you nearby.

“Fuck baby.” He hisses when you reach in and pull him out. Feeling himself grow and harden while you start to lightly stroke him. “You look so fucking good today.”

“My ass is about to be hanging out of this dress,” you giggle, feeling lighter than air in this moment of indulgence. Feeling Javi’s cock grow under your attention is one of your favorite sensations and you’re savoring the hell out of it as you roll back his foreskin and kitten lick the tip of his cock.

“Shit.” His dick jumps at the feeling of your tongue. Fingers are white knuckling the steering wheel because the last thing he wants is for him to crash and you to get hurt. Or bite his dick off. Your tongue drags around the sensitive head, and he moans quietly. “Good goddamn thing we left.”

You hum as you lick a hot stripe up the length of his cock, loving the way he has turned to steel in your hand. “Get some alone time.” Not that Pops doesn’t give you plenty of privacy, but you’re always hyper aware of your volume when your father-in-law is home. “Make me scream your name.”

“Fuck.” He hums and sneaks a glance down at you. You always look like you love sucking his cock. Which he could understand since burying his mouth in your cunt was his second favorite pastime, fucking you narrowly beating that out. “Wanna go up to the hayloft?”

The sound you make when you pop off of him is obscene and beautiful. “Fuck yes,” you moan happily. “Our spot.”

“Pops was pissed I didn’t take you to bed the first time.” Javi muses. “Had to convince him you didn’t want to go into the house.”

“Too awkward.” You barely get the words out as your tongue swirls around his blunted head. “And too eager.”

He groans and squeezes his eyes closed for a second before he has to look back at the road. Damn near misses the turn to the ranch. “Shit.”

“Eyes on the road, cowboy.” Your hand dips into his jeans to cup his balls, rolling them gently between your fingers while you fill your mouth with his length. Inch by inch he disappears until you have to swallow around him, feeling that beautiful stretch and burn in your throat instead of your pussy.

“Goddamnit.” He huffs and grips the wheel even tighter. “Don’t want— fuck.” He bites his lip and smothers another moan. “Wanna be in you.” He’s technically on Peña land when he jerks the wheel and the tires skid when he stops the truck. Knowing he’s not going to last long, and he wants to be buried in your cunt when he does bust.

Swallowing once more just to hear him moan, you carefully pop off of him and sit up in your seat again. “Back, bed, or bench?” You ask, giving him the option of how he wants to fuck you, since you’re out in the middle of nowhere: on his back in the back of the truck, bending you over with the truck bed for leverage, or right there on the bench seat.

He’s already out from behind the wheel and reaching for you. “Right fucking here.” He growls, dragging you over his thighs to straddle him.

“Needy.” You tease, not that you mind one little bit. It’s that much better though, when he reaches between you to shove your panties aside and finds nothing but a bare, dripping cunt waiting for him. “Whoops.” You grin and nip at his neck. “Looks like I forgot underwear too.”

“I fucking love you.” He groans and lines himself up before he’s thrusting up into you with a groan.

The unapologetic way he needs to be inside you makes you whimper, holding on to his shoulders while you roll your hips in his lap and sink down to take him fully. “Fuckin— fuck baby I love you, too.”

“Jesus.” He wraps his arms around you and starts to move under you. “One social, fuck, event and we’re fucking like rabbits in the truck like we-we’re teenagers again.”

“Except this time there’s no lecture f-from, oh god,” the words slip for a second when the flat of his hand comes down on your ass sharply. “From Father Martín.” One time you got caught making out behind the church after sneaking out of a Sunday service and wow had the lecture about purity and self-control been lengthy and condescending.

He huffs out a chuckle. “And I fucked you twice right after.” He reminds you, the urge to rebel had been strong and he was seventeen and horny.

“I talk to god a fuckton more with you than in church.” You giggle, but it turns into a throaty moan when Javi shifts his hips to snap them up, filling you again in one powerful thrust.

“Yeah?” He pants out, already breathing heavy but he’s bracing his feet on the floorboard so he can drive up into you harder, keeping you close to him so he doesn’t slam your head into the roof.

“So— oh my fucking god, baby — so good to me.” The fingers of one of your hands wind in his hair, tugging his head back so you can kiss him while you whimper and clench down on his cock. “Always so fucking good to me.”

He groans into your mouth and one of his hands moves to your clit. Pressing his thumb to the bundle of nerves and starts rubbing while he continuously moves inside you. You whine, hips bucking as you grind down in desperate search of your orgasm. “So close.” The way the coil in your belly is tightening, you could burst at any moment.

“Do it.” He growls out, continuing to rub your clit and bouncing you on his cock. His teeth nip at your neck, and he hums when you clench around him. “Cum, mi esposa.”

“Fuck, fuck, Javi!” You slam down in his lap twice more behind your whole body tenses up and draws him in, bearing down on his pulsing cock as you shudder with pleasure in his arms.

He’s immediately following after you, burying his nose against your pulse and groaning out your name while his body gives into that need. His cock twitching and pumping his seed into your womb and flooding you with heat.

Your whole body relaxes, slouching in his lap and making you yelp in surprise when your ass nudges the steering wheel just enough to press the truck’s horn. It sends you into a fit of giggles instead and you hold on to him for dear life while you both shake with laughter.

“God it’s never boring with you.” He murmurs, kissing your lips and sighing while he feels himself start to soften inside you. “Sorry, I couldn’t wait.”

“If you wanted a boring wife, you should have married Lorraine.” You throw him a wink and lean down to kiss him softly. Shifting carefully off his lap, you spin around on the seat and lay with your head beside his ass, feet and half your legs dangling out the open window and you grin up at him when he tilts his head at you. “Can’t waste it,” you explain simply, shrugging up at him. Any chance at making a baby is precious - if that means sitting like a weirdo in his truck on the way back to the house instead of your normal position with some pillows under your knees, then so be it.

“Never thought I’d see you trying to keep my cum inside you.” He chuckles. “Although 18-year-old me never got to experience you without a condom.”

“I’m fucking proud of us for never even having a scare.” It would have been terrifying, and even if it would have potentially kept you together, teen parenthood would ultimately not have been a good idea for either of you “Besides, it was recently pointed out to me that I’m old, so I’ll take any extra help we can get.”

He snorts. “You aren’t old.” He promises you. “We haven’t even hit our 20-year reunion. Then we can be old.”

“Jav…” You reach up, fingers trailing along his jaw as he tucks himself away and turns the key in the steering column. The warmth of the night is seeping into your bones and making you sleepy on the heels of your little emergency quickie. “Take me home, baby? I’m feeling snuggly.”

“Hmmm.” His hand cups your cheek and then down your neck and between your breasts to your stomach. “My wife needs to curl up with her husband?” He asks softly.

“Yes, please.” Batting your eyelashes daintily, the weight of his hands on your skin makes you hum with contentment.

“Then we will go to bed, baby.” He doesn’t mind that at all. Nothing beat the sleep he got when he was wrapped around you. The sleep here in Texas better than Colombia.

“Nooooo.” The protest is positively childish but you don’t care, because it makes him smile as he starts pulling the truck back out into the beaten path to the house. “I’m not sleepy, just snuggly. Might even want to ride you again before we fall asleep if you’re up for it later.”

“No one said we were going to sleep.” He amends. “I said we were going to bed. But don’t blame me if I fall asleep. Having you naked, post orgasm in bed makes me sleep like a baby.”

******

You scamper upstairs when you get back to the house, boots rejected by the door and purse hung on the coat rack with his leather jacket. It’s more than wanting to get in bed and snuggle up, the need to pee from all that sangria snuck up on you, too.

Javi starts laughing before he even closes the bedroom door. You’ve always sounded like an elephant pissing. The loud sound coming from the open bathroom door. “Feel better, Gacelita?”

“Yep.” You do, but you a still flick clean water at him and wrinkle your nose when you come out of the bathroom. “It’s only gonna get louder and more frequent when I’m pregnant, babe.”

He snorts and starts unbuttoning his shirt. “Yeah, but the cute little waddle will make up for it.” He teases. Pulling the shirt out of his pants, he shrugs it off and tosses it into the clothes hamper.

“I hope you still think it’s cute when you’re giving my waddlers a foot rub every night.” Your dress follows his shirt into the hamper, and you unhook your bra with a sigh before falling into bed naked.

“Considering you’d be waddling because of me; I’d be a dick if I didn’t.” He shoves his jeans down and peels off his socks and leaves them on the floor before he crawls into the bed beside you. “Shit.” He huffs and sits up. “Forgot. Be right back.”

“Okay?” He pads out of the room in all his naked glory, and you just shrug and cuddle up under the covers. You’re far too relaxed to really care what he’s up to. He’ll be back in a minute, and you can curl up to him instead of his pillow.

It was easy to find the box, up on a shelf above the hangers. It makes him pause when he sees the box with his ma’s wedding dress, something he had seen countless times growing up. Now that he’s back with you and married, it makes him realize how deep losing Maria had cut Chucho. Fingers wrap around the wooden box, and he pulls it down carefully and carries it back into the bedroom.

“What’s that?” You sit up in bed when he walks back in with what looks like a keepsake or jewelry box of some kind.

“It’s ma’s jewelry box.” Javi tells you as he walks over to the bed and sets it down in front of you before he goes back to close the door and join you. “Pops said— well, he said Ma would have wanted you to wear and enjoy some of her things.”

“Oh my god.” Your fingers brush the stained wood carefully and when your eyes flick back up to meet his, they’re definitely a little more watery than usual. “Is this okay with you, mi amor?” Pop’s permission is only half of it for you, these are as Javi’s mother’s things and as honoured as you would be to inherit them, you don’t want to upset him at all.

“Baby…” He bites his lips and his fingers curl around yours on top of the box. “I know my mother would have been thrilled to have you as her daughter-in-law and insisted you have anything you loved.” He tells you passionately. “I – her wedding dress is still in Pop’s closet, and it made me think about how he must have felt.

“Your mom was great. So many other girls had horror stories about their boyfriend’s moms and I just…she was always so nice to me.” Slipping your fingers along the side of the box, you pop the latch carefully and open the top to reveal perhaps two dozen pairs of earrings carefully tucked into velvet lined indentations and several dainty fashion rings in various finishes with brightly coloured stones. “Maybe…maybe if we have a girl…her middle name could be Maria?” It’s a sentimental idea, one you’ve bandied back and forth with yourself over the last few months without ever mentioning but you know it would mean the world to Chucho, and Javi loved his mother fiercely. You would be happy to honour her legacy of love and support.

“Y-yeah.” Javier whispers quietly, more touched than he can ever tell you. “I would like that.” He looks at the jewelry and recognizes most of the pieces. Some he had ‘given’ to his mother when he was younger and his Pops had really picked out the gift, others some he had seen her wear religiously, like the small gold crosses. She had been buried in a similar pair.

“Oh wow…” Chuckling a little, you pick up a small pair of gold hoop earrings with green glass beads at the stud. “I gave her these for Christmas one year. I can’t believe she kept them…”

“She was a sentimental woman.” He murmurs, reaching up and squeezing your shoulders as you both sift through memories. “She never lost faith in you.” He tells you. “Only time I really yelled at Ma was when she was trying to tell me that you wouldn’t move on, and I told her I never wanted to talk about you again. Surprised she didn’t beat my ass.”

“She wanted you to be happy.” That much you’re sure of, looking back it’s obvious that she saw how you complemented and challenged each other. She was the biggest fan of your relationship. Your fingers dance over her wedding rings and you smile softly. “Let’s save these for our kids,” you hum, feeling yourself get misty. “Maybe they’ll go to the next Peña bride.”

“Yeah, I don’t want Pops to give them up just yet.” He leans in and kisses your shoulder.

There are some beautiful things here. Of course there are, Maria had great taste. Timeless pieces that will never go out of style alongside some particularly 60s and 70s looking things that she accumulated over time. When you open up the drawer underneath the main compartment there are some beautiful necklaces carefully pinned into the velvet lining so the chains don’t tangle, and you smile at them each as you run your fingers over them. There is a small jeweler’s box tucked into the back corner of the drawer and you expect a pair of fine earrings - Maria loved green so maybe emeralds? - but something very different is sitting inside. A gold ring with small diamond chips - seven in total. Six in a circle to represent flower petals and one in the center ringed in silver to complete the flower. You’ve had this ring described to you before and you gasp instantly. It can’t be…

“Oh my god.” Javi chokes out, his hand reaching out and taking the box from you and stares down at the ring he had thought was long gone. “I— this is the engagement ring I bought for you. How—” He blinks back tears. “She kept it. She gave me the money for it and kept it.”

“Oh my god…” The words are on your lips too, the same disbelieving tears in your eyes, and wonder on your face. “She…she really never did give up on us, did she?”

“No.” Javi shakes his head, and he bites his lip. “Ma loved you.” He reaches out and laces his fingers with yours. “I— I never told you but— she, uh, at the end she talked about you. How she missed you and wished she could see you one last time. Tell you how much she loved you.”

“Can we go see her tomorrow?” The tears in your eyes fall freely at that, guilt twisting your gut as you squeeze his hand tightly. You know she’s buried at Nuestea Señora Del Rosario but haven’t ventured out there yet. Not even when you came back with Connie last year. “I—I just want to talk to her. Tell her that everything’s okay. I know your dad says she’s always watching but…I don’t know. It’s silly, but I feel like she’ll hear us better there.”

“Of course.” Even if he didn’t ever go to his mother’s grave, he would never deny you that. Holding the box still, he wraps his arm around you and tugs you to his chest. “We can go visit her, Gacelita”

“It’s beautiful, by the way.” Pressed against his chest, you wrap both arms around him and hold on tight. The way your heart is pounding, you just can’t hear anything else except the blood in your ears and his deep voice. “The ring…it’s…it’s stunning.”

"I— would you want to wear it?" He asks you softly. "The real reason I wanted you to go through the jewelry was to see what you might like so I could get you an engagement ring for our anniversary."

“Baby.” You look up at him with a fully incredulous expression, and a smile that betrays it. “I would be honoured to wear it. It— I mean —” You huff a little, sniffling through the words and trying to get yourself to form a coherent sentence. “This is my engagement ring, mi amor. It doesn’t matter how long it took to get to me.”

He flushes slightly, ears burning and rubs the back of his neck. "I don’t— I bought it as a kid. I didn't know if-if you like it, considering - you know, tastes change." His own inability to string together sentence is pissing him off but he's a little less sure about the ring now than he was when he bought it.

“I love it.” You promise him, pressing a kiss to his burning cheek. “I love it now as much as I would have loved it then.” Putting aside the fact that you love flowers with your jewelry, it actually is a beautiful piece.

"Okay." He grins at you, boyish and shy and even though he's butt ass naked, he slides off the bed and down to one knee. "Gacelita, will you wear this engagement ring that should have been yours nearly 18 years ago and make me smile every time I see it on your hand?" He asks with a wink.

“Get up here.” You’re laughing and smiling through the tears when you beckon him back up on the bed. “I love you, and I can’t wait to wear my ring proudly.”

“Well, let’s see if it fits.” He huffs, knees popping slightly, and he plucks the ring out of the box and tosses the velvet container aside.

It slips onto your finger easily and you practically giggle when he leans down to kiss it and your finger. “It would have been so big when you bought it.” You tell him, holding back a full guffaw. “I would have been wearing it in my thumb until we got it sized.”

"Yeah, well, I figured you had fat fingers to go with that big head of yours." He jokes, smirking at his juvenile comeback.

“Don’t be a butthead.” You elbow him square in the ribs, never taking your eyes off the beautiful ring now sitting beside your wedding band. “My head isn’t as big as your big mouth.”

"You don't mind my big mouth when I get your entire cunt in it." He teases, kissing your shoulder and his thumb brushes over the ring again. "It's perfect on your hand just like I knew it would be, mi esposa."

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt

Broken Road: @shakespeareanwannabe @pascalesque @hnt-escape @xaestheticalien @supernaturalgirl20 @samzie @blub-senpai @dobbyjen @vanered15 @vanemando15

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Javier Peña #Javier Peña x reader #Javier Peña x you #Javier Peña x female reader #high school sweethearts #lost love #valentine's day #fic is for lovers #Narcos #Narcos fanfic

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gummygowon · 4 years ago

Text

cute relationship things with ateez!

genre: fluff (a lot)

warnings: none :)

established relationship!

a/n: i meant to post this like two weeks ago but i never finished it so consider this an early valentine’s day gift <3 ;)

seonghwa:

for some reason, i feel like seonghwa likes to read books

with that being said, on lazy days where you guys didn’t want to get up and do anything

you guys would read books !!!

before you guys would read some were recommendations from each other on your own

and then maybe rant to each other over little details about the book like how the main character went back to their toxic ex or how the ending of a book was so bad

“seonghwa, how did you even read this?!? the stupid ass main character keeps going back to that one jerk! like does she not realize she deserves more than his ugly ass???!!!?”

“y/n, just keep reading.”

“but hwa-”

turns out the main character got with the other woman yayyyyy!!! fuck shitty men

i don’t know how it happened but you guys started your own little book club with each other

so you guys could finally talk rant together at the same time about the book

so since you guys started to read the same book and if you guys found down time together you would read together

like, imagine it’s a peaceful friday night

seonghwa is back from work and so are you

you guys already showered and ate dinner

you’re just reading and then seonghwa just scoops you up and then puts you in between his legs with your back against his chest

and you’re like “wtf bro?”

and he’s just like, “what? i wanna read too???”

“didn’t you like read ahead tho??”

“yeah, but i wanna read it again.”

that was a fatass lie

he just wanted to be close to you

hongjoong:

ok so, we all know that this man is hella busy all the time

mans is the leader, song writer, producer, dancer, rapper (which is why he is good at all positions)

but you were patient with him and whenever he goes days without seeing you due to his busy ass schedule he would make it up to you yk what i mean

but on the more chill days when you saw hongjoong or even the days where he was cooped in his studio (you would visit him there because sometimes you just had to see him)

you guys would just lay on the couch, just enjoying each other’s presence and not feel like you have to make up for lost time

you would be on the bottom on your phone or reading a magazine/book

then hongjoong would be at the top with his head on your stomach as he would be writing down lyrics that came to mind

killing two birds with one stone you feel me

sometimes you would show him a funny meme that you found or quote something that you just read to him

“hongjoong, look at the way he fell!” you would be dying of laughter

and then he wouldn’t notice because he was really roped into making lyrics

but you also didn’t see him focusing so much because you were of course laughing at the kid that accidentally got bitchslapped off the couch because of their sibling

“joongie look!!!”

“what is it?”

you would then show him what happened and then he would look at with that “you really interrupted me for this??” type of look

“i just lost my train of thought for this song because you wanted to show me this kid falling off of a couch???”

“yes?”

he would just bring a hand to his face and think what tf? why tf? and then slowly start laughing because of what just happened

“see, wasn’t it funny?”

“a child getting hurt isn’t funny, y/n” he would laugh while scolding you

yunho:

yunho powers im sorry for this one

alright so, it’s night time

you guys are about to go to bed after a long day or work/school whatever

your eyes are fluttering closed because the day got you beat beat

but then yunho just kisses your face

and then you open your eyes slowly again to see yunho look like he just got caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to do

like imagine a kid that just got caught drawing on the walls

that’s what his face would look like

he’s just laying there like “i thought you were asleep...”

“i was just about to...”

yunho feels lowkey guilty now because you’re awake now and he knows you had a long day

he just couldn’t resist kissing you

you just looked so pretty and peaceful sleeping

mans was reminded by the universe themself about how lucky he was being able to date you

like, godamn what did he do in his past life to deserve you?

ok, back to this reaction idea thing-

yunho would apologize for waking you up with his cheeks a nice rosy color

you just look at him with tired eyes

“i’ll forgive you, if you give me more kisses.”

and yunho’s smile just lights up the whole damn room and he’s like oh? say less

so he goes to kissing your face

like all over

your nose

your cheeks

forehead

basically anywhere ok?

and you end up laughing because it tickles

but you just want him to kiss your lips which he does

... eventually lmao

but when he does your still laughing which causes him to laugh

he tells you “i love you, did you know that?”

and you get all flustered and shit but you still keep that playful energy around

“i love you too, but you aren’t forgiven just yet”

which leads to more kisses :))))

yeosang:

ok so you’re now the busy one

yeosang has so much respect for you because holy shit how do you balance that busy ass schedule of yours

your homework loads were no jokes

then to add to that you have a job which was even more stressful

it was amazing how you can manage all that and still keep a smile on your face

you also had major respect for yeosang as an idol

the industry was not a place to fuck around

you couldn’t be happier that your boyfriend was lucky enough to have a group who actually cared and supported each other

speaking of ateez, yeosang isn’t the most touchy person in the world

you didn’t mind of course, you’re the same way

however, when he did give you cuddles and kisses you would be a blushing mess

a sort of rare sight that yeosang loved to see

anyways, one night you were busy writing those argumentative essays that you were sure that your fingers would fall off by the time you were finished

you were working on it ever since you got home from school (with the occasional food and bathroom breaks )to the time when yeosang came back from practice

you moved to your shared bed by the time the sweaty boy came home and he was surprised that you were working on one subject for so long

the stupid piece was almost finished by the time yeosang was out of the shower

however, you didn’t even notice

you were too immersed in your writing to notice

yeosang took this as an opportunity to sit behind you and wrap his arms around your waist and watch over your shoulder as you worked

and of course, he would kiss your cheek occasionally

this was super sweet gesture but yeosang but you didn’t the notice that he wrapped his arms around you

“ai yah! what the hell?” you yelled and turned around to see your boyfriend clutching his chest

“oh it’s just you.”

yeosang would give you a deadpanned look and be like, “yeah, who else tf???”

you would apologize and kissing his cheek before returning to back to work

which yeosang would return to hugging your waist and keep his head on your shoulder

and give you occasional kisses on your cheek or neck

after that night, it became a weekly occurrence

which you loved of course, who wouldn’t love their bf cuddling them while they chased their bag

san:

i am very excited for this one

ok so, san loves playing with your hair

it’s just so much fun

running his fingers through it or just attempting to braid it or put it into a tiny ponytail

he loved it

he would probably always play with your while you were watching tv together, sitting together in the car, or even before you guys fall asleep

then one day after san came home early from work

you guys were chilling on the bed watching the latest k-drama that came out since san made you wait so you guys could watch it together

san was in between your legs with his back leaning against your chest

and that’s when you decided to run your fingers through his soft, fluffy hair

that’s also when san asked you to braid his hair

“sure, what type of braid though?”

“there’s different kinds????”

“yes, san. now pick one.” you gave him your phone that was pulled up to different types braids.

“i want the french ones. they sound fancy.”

you roll your eyes and start sectioning his hair into two sections and start braiding his hair and lightly pull on the pink strands because you know san likes his hair pulled

so you doing his hair right

and you begin rambling about your day/week

talking about whatever interesting happened to you because you know that san likes hearing you talk no matter what it’s about

however, you were knee deep into talking about the latest drama at work that you didn’t even realize that san stopped talking

“san?”

he didn’t answer and his head would be dipping down so low you were surprised you didn’t fall over

“baby?”

san still wouldn’t respond to you

but this time he just flipped over so his head would be on your stomach as he wrapped your arms around your stomach

“mmmmmmm?”

“nevermind love, just sleep.”

he would respond by burying his head further into your stomach and tightened his hold around you

you kissed his head and ran your fingers through his hair which lulled san to sleep even more

“goodnight sannie.”

mingi:

you have been best friends with song mingi ever since you moved into the tiny neighborhood that you call home

it all started when your parents brought you over to your next door neighbor’s house for breakfast on a cold saturday morning

you were extremely shy when you were little so the only thing you could remember about your first experience with mingi was hiding behind your mother’s leg for the first hour of being there and watching the young boy play with his toy cars and planes before he finally offered a pirate ship to you

ever since that unforgettable saturday, you pretty much spent the rest of your childhood with mingi

you guys were practically joined at the hip

even when you were getting endlessly teased by your classmates for the first month of school for having an accent whenever you spoke

which resulted in you running to the bathroom crying

not even a minute later, you heard someone burst through the girls’ bathrrom

“y/n?”

you peaked your head out of the stall to see your tall neighbor looking out of breath

“mingi, you aren’t supposed to be here!” you said in between sobs

“it’s okay, i don’t care.” he said as he awkwardly wrapped his arms around you. “are you okay?”

you shook your head no looking at him with tears running down your face

the poor boy was internally freaking out since he has no clue on how to comfort people (especially if they’re a girl)

he was like eight at the time give him a little break

so of course, his first reaction was to make you laugh somehow

and he did this by randomly recreating the “boots and cats, boots and cats” rhythm after seeing siri do it in a youtube video and started to bop his head

surprised by his sudden movements, you laughed out of pure confusion

as soon as mingi saw the corner of your lips flip upwards he began rapping faster to the point where he was gasping for breath leading him into a coughing fit

“mingi you can breathe, y’know!” you giggled in between words

after the young boy had caught his breath from hacking away at his lungs, he smiled at you

until- the teacher had came into the bathroom, scolding mingi for going into the girls’ restroom

even though mingi didn’t care at all that he got in trouble, the only thing he cared about was that you were feeling better

ever since then whenever you were sad or having a bad day mingi would whip out his phone and ask siri to rap while he free-styled over the monotone voice

he literally still does it

even two years into your relationship-

“siri, can you rap for me?” mingi would ask his phone as he pointed his free arm at you

“boots and cats-”

“mingi, please no.” you laughed in between tears, your mood rising with every beat

wooyoung:

i wholeheartedly believe that wooyoung would kiss you face if you were sad

but the first time this happened, you guys were still fairly new into your relationship

which meant that you weren’t completely ready to be extremely vulnerable around wooyoung

because in your mind, letting someone see you at your lowest lows of means that you really trust and love someone to let them see you like that

you always wanted to be known as the strong person in the friend group

you were that glue that held everyone together

always listening to others and taking care of others before yourself

which is why wooyoung fell in love with you in the first place

he had never been in a relationship where someone was so caring and thoughtful of others that he was scared that he wouldn’t be enough for you and that you deserved better

of course, he didn’t tell you that right away but he confessed to you about that wayyy later in your relationship which is another story to be told

but one day, life was coming at you so fucking fast

assignments were piling up left and right and deadlines were literally every other day

and then there seemed to be an increase in the amount of angry karens at your work

and your patience was thinning everyday with those people

then to top it all off, all the tests you’ve been studying for, you got mediocre grades, some even worse in other subjects

it just felt like no matter how much work you put into whatever you do, you got half ass results

it was just pushing your mental health further into the ground

you could handle a C every once in awhile but multiple? on back to back tests? no fucking way you just couldn’t

those stupid, dark thoughts would cloud your mind in an instant and on days like this, you would just let them consume you

you were too tired to pick yourself up again and fight back which led to you crying in wooyoung’s arms

usually, you would feel so embarrassed crying over things like this when you know other people have it worse but you couldn’t hold in it anymore

you ranted about yourself in between your hiccups from crying which would hurt wooyoung’s heart a little bit

because he thought of you as such a strong and kind person- the complete opposite of what you were saying about yourself

so when you were done talking, wooyoung made you look at him and assured you that you were not any of those nasty things that you said about yourself

each insult turned into a thoughtful compliment accompanied by a kiss

“y/n, you are so intelligent-”

kiss

“caring-”

kiss

“beautiful-”

kiss

“more than everything i ever wanted”

kiss

by the time wooyoung was done, you were a giggling mess

“and this is why i love you.”

he finally kissed you on your lips, smiling into it like the dork he is

it was the first ever time he told you that he loved you

jongho:

i am also a firm believer that jongho would sing his s/o to sleep

like with that heavenly voice of his, he better put them to sleep

so on the first night you ever slept with jongho, you were too nervous to go to bed even though your body was screaming at you to close your eyes

you kept tossing and turning every few minutes or your eyes would shoot open with your heart racing

at this point, you gave up on trying to sleep and got up (carefully to not wake up your sleeping boyfriend) to get a drink

while you were in the kitchen, clutching your chest in an effort to get yourself to calm down, jongho had stirred awake to an empty bed

a flash of panic surged through his body as he momentarily forgot where he was since he wasn’t at his dorm his room never looked this clean

yawning, the vocalist would wander into the light with his eyes squinted, “y/n?”

“oh my god!” you jumped, water almost spilling out your glass

jongho covered his ears, “what are you doing up?”

“oh,” you felt your cheeks turn red since you felt bad for waking your boyfriend up. “i can’t sleep.”

“why?” he asked, walking towards the couch.

“i don’t know.” you answered as you followed close behind.

you curled up next to jongho, clutching his shirt “i’m sorry for waking you up.”

jongho smiled tiredly at you before kissing your head, “don’t be. it’s okay. i don’t have work tomorrow anyways.”

you smiled in response before the two of you guys fell into a silence

“do you want me to sing you to sleep?”

“yes, please.” you murmured into his side as jongho placed his other arm around you, successfully trapping you in between his arms

he began singing softly into your ear as he stroked your hair

his warm voice coaxing your eyes to close

at last, your mind was at peace with itself

your heart beat slowing down

and by the time the song was finished you were fast asleep in arms

jongho kissed your forehead once more

“i love you.”

591 notes · View notes

therealvalkyrie · 4 years ago

Text

Painter’s Hands and Guatemalan Coffee: Part 2

insomniac

Pairing/setting: Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader, modern!college!AU

Summary: When you catch your idiot boyfriend cheating, your grumpy roommate is there to pick up the pieces and watch your back as you toe a carefully drawn line in the metaphorical sand.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: insomnia, nightmares, (remembering) death, panic attack, cuddling, fluff

AN: Here she is!! I’ve decided to give oc a little ~tragic backstory~ and I really hope it comes across like I’ve intended. I wouldn’t go so far as to call in angst, necessarily, but there’ll definitely be some in the future. Also, I know I’ve painted Annie and Reiner in a really bad light so far in this particular fic, but please know that’s not how I view them in canon at all - it’s simply because someone had to be the bad guy:( Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy and as always don’t hesitate to reach out via reblog/ask with any suggestions/feedback/questions!! ~valkyrie

(read Part 1.5 here)

Bodies jostle against you in the darkness to the beat of music you can’t hear. The buzzing gets louder, drowning out even your own screams for them to stop.

Stop. Stop. STOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP!

“STOP IT!” You can hear yourself this time, your voice embarrassingly loud in the cramped room. You slap hands over your mouth but everyone’s already turned to look at you, disgusted at the display of emotion. Even they peel their faces apart to sneer down their noses.

“Why should we?” Annie’s voice rings with superiority, swirling around the space and nestling in the crook of your neck. You shudder away, but the faceless bodies shove you back.

“Don’t you know this is your fault, anyway? You weren’t enough for me.” Reiner jeers with a satisfied smirk. The whole room laughs, cackling and giggling spitefully. You can’t move, muscles frozen, as they turn back to each other and continue making out. His hand in her hair, her thigh hooked over his hip, obscenely wet noises from their joined mouths.

You scream and scream and scream, jaw wide and aching, and all of a sudden the scene shifts and you’re at your mother’s bedside. Your breath hitches and you’re screaming in a child’s voice this time.

“Mommy, Mommy, no, please, no, MOMMY, PLEASE--”

Your hand twitches towards her and its movement against soft sheets brings you back to consciousness.

You’re spread-eagled in bed, comforter kicked almost completely off, chest heaving.

“One. Two. Three. Four…” you count in a hoarse whisper to yourself, staring out the window at gently falling snow illuminated in yellow streetlights. It takes you to one hundred and twenty-seven before you’re calm enough to do anything productive.

You reach out a blind hand to find your phone on the nightstand and raise it up to check the time. 4:47 am. Nearly three hours of sleep.

Eh, good enough for jazz.

You heave a sigh, then push up to sit on the edge of your bed and flick on the lamp. The sudden bright light makes you squint against sharp pain behind your eyes and turn away in search of a sweatshirt. Some sifting through the ever-growing pile of laundry later, you settle on a green university hoodie and pull it on over your ratty tank top. Your toes and fingers always feel like icicles after waking up from a nightmare, so you find faux fur-lined slippers as well.

As you push past your bedroom door and into the living room, a figure in the comfy armchair catches the corner of your eye.

You nearly jump out of your skin before recognizing who it is. “Christ on a cracker, Levi! Nearly scared me half to death.”

“Sorry.” He doesn’t sound sorry as he marks the page in his book and sets it on the coffee table.

“What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same.”

“Well that’s not ominous or anything,” you mutter with an eye roll as you cross to the kitchen and set the kettle to boil for coffee.

Levi sighs and pinches the bridge of his elegant nose.

“Sorry. That’s not what I meant. It’s just… I noticed you haven’t been sleeping much lately and I’m worried.” He crosses to sit at the kitchen table and speaks to your back as you shuffle around the kitchen.

“What do you mean? Of course I’ve been sleeping. Whaddaya think I was just doing?”

“It’s five am, and you were still up when I went to sleep at twelve. Optimistically, that’s four hours of sleep. And yesterday you went to bed after one, but Hange said you were texting her at five-thirty, and--”

“Jeez, what, have you been stalking me or something?” you ask with an incredulous glance over your shoulder.

“We live together. It’s kind of hard not to notice.” Levi’s tone is the usual dry you’ve come to expect, but there’s an undercurrent that you’re too exhausted to pinpoint. “And Hange also told me she’s been worried.”

“What is this, an intervention? Just because I break up with someone I’m suddenly incapable of functioning?” Your voice (and headache) rises with each phrase, cracking on the morning dryness in the air, and you spin to face him.

“I didn’t say that, I--”

“Am I just supposed to wallow in misery for the rest of my life? No. I’m not doing that, Levi, I’m moving on. I-- I’m a busy woman, I’ve got finals and, and internship applications, and I happen to enjoy waking up early. I like watching the sunrise.” Though your words are rushed and you’re gesturing animatedly, uncertainty seeps through the stuttered phrases in your argument.

Levi lets you finish, then returns in a measured voice: “Why are you so defensive about this? I know you’re busy. So am I. But I manage to get more than four hours of sleep at night. I just want to help.”

His statement hangs in the air like dust mites, swirling around you and clinging to the sticky after-effects of the nightmare in your mind. You frown and drop your eyes to the linoleum, guilt settling into the stickiness.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Your voice is much softer. “I just--” A deep sigh. “I can’t sleep.”

“Why?”

The simple question makes your breath stutter and you scrub a hand down your face in an effort to ground your skin into reality.

“It’s so stupid.” It’s practically a whisper. “I have these nightmares. About my mom. I got them when I was younger, too, but eventually they just sort of… stopped. But now they’re back. And I can’t ever get back to sleep after, so I just stopped bothering to try.”

“You know, sometimes I get nightmares, too.”

The admission catches you off guard, your eyes widening. Levi always seems so… steady and sure, you wouldn’t have expected it.

“Really?”

He nods. “About my mom and the foster homes.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you…” Your heart sinks, and you don’t know how to say you’re sorry for the heartbreak he must’ve lived through with any semblance of tact.

“Yeah. It’s not something I talk about much.”

“Right.” You pause and chew on your tongue thoughtfully for a moment. “Do you have...strategies for when you can’t sleep because of them?”

“I have sleeping pills from my psychiatrist and some meditation practices that work for me. I can send you some resources, if you’d like.”

“Yeah, I’d really appreciate that if it’s not a bother.” You feel kind of sheepish now, for raising your voice, and so try to sound extra thankful for his help.

“It’s not.” He stands up and stretches both arms over his head, tipping his face up to the sky, lean body arching and twisting with the effort of it. “I’ll send them to you later today. I’m gonna go back to bed.”

“Okay. Thank you, Levi.”

He nods and yawns, nose scrunching adorably. “Night, kid.”

“Good night.”

As his bedroom door clicks shut, you sigh yet again and turn off the stove. The first thing to avoid is probably coffee.

Your fingers flick off last rivulets of water as you step out of the shower. A shiver rattles its way up your spine before you can grab a towel to dry off. Bless Levi, he had done laundry today and the towel is still dryer-warm, smelling of his favorite fabric softener.

As you go through your evening routine (tooth brushing, face washing, hair drying), you can feel a quiet tension set into your shoulders despite the humidity of the bathroom.

The day had gone okay. You managed to resist coffee until 8 am and cut yourself off at 3. A lecture and a studio in the morning left the afternoon for library studying and a trip to the grocery store.

You had actually seen Bertholdt there, in the cereal aisle. You hadn’t been too keen on having that particular conversation, but luckily he hadn’t seemed to be either. The pair of you exchanged sympathetically awkward smiles before turning back to the Cheerios.

The evening consisted of ordering chinese takeout while obsessing over your latest architecture design project, followed by convincing Hange over the phone not to sleep in the mouse lab for extra credit.

“But Bean will be lonely!” she insisted hysterically. “And Sonny wasn’t looking too hot in lab today, what if he needs his mommy and I’m not there?”

“You’re not their mommy,” you reminded her. “They have each other to keep them company, and if Sonny dies, won’t it support your hypothesis anyway?”

She had eventually acquiesced when you promised to help her plan a memorial should they pass in the night.

So now here you are, skin slowly drying, as you psych yourself up in the mirror to go to sleep.

“It won’t be bad. Just use the meditations Levi sent you.” You try to inject confidence into your voice, but you only end up grimacing at yourself in the mirror. “Ah, fuck it.”

You tuck your towel in firmly around your chest and double check to see your things are put away before going back to your room.

As you pass, you hesitate by Levi’s door for a moment. His normal studying music, Chopin, is on and light creeps out from underneath. Another moment of uncertainty, then you gently knock and poke your head in.

“Levi?” He raises his head from where he’s hunched over an easel, paint brush in hand. Brow furrowed and body tensed like a strung bow, he doesn’t look happy to be interrupted.

Fuck.

“I, uhm, just wanted to say good night.”

He grunts and turns back to the painting.

You take that as your cue to leave.

Back in the sanctuary of your own room, you curse again and kick your desk chair, sending it rolling a couple inches.

Why had you bothered him? To say good night?

“Stupid, stupid, UGH.” Your dramatic outburst ends in flopping face-first into bed. Just because he felt concerned enough to stage a fucking intervention doesn’t mean he’s your fucking nanny. Idiot.

Eventually, you roll over and get up to change into pajamas.

Settling into bed, you open your newly downloaded meditation app and start an audio.

“As you prepare for your meditation practice today, find a comfortable position sitting or lying down where you can fully relax….”

The cool female voice wraps your mind in a hazy blanket of fog and eventually coaxes your body into an achingly needed sleep.

This time the dream wakes you up whimpering into your pillow, arms flung above your head as though you’re skydiving. With a sucking breath, you lift your head to prevent imminent suffocation and instead settle on your side, staring unblinkingly into the darkness. Breath ragged in your chest, your mind can’t seem to move past the last image of your nightmare.

It’s burned into your retinas when you close your eyes and etched onto the moonlight-pale wall when they’re open: your mom’s pallid face staring up at the ceiling, hands resting on top of her blue embroidered duvet cover, chest still.

A sob escapes your unwilling throat and you’re scrambling to sit up and reach for the lamp. The lamplight suddenly reminds you of your own existence in the physical plane, thrusting all your senses into sharp contrast.

Her greying, thinning hair, the frailty in her fingers, the cracks in her lips, the cloying scent of death.

“Nonononononononono,” you moan, hunched over your knees, fingers tangled in your hair. Your stomach is hollow, chest tight, tears now flowing in earnest. It hasn’t been this bad in a long time, not since 7th grade at least.

Do something, do something, you stupid bitch, your mind is yelling at you, and so you force your body to move. Somewhere, anywhere other than here.

You practically fall out of bed and then lean heavily on your desk to compensate for shaking knees as you move to the door. Feet shuffle in the darkness and all of a sudden you’re sniffling outside Levi’s door, fingers in a deathgrip on your shirt. One, two breaths and you knock three hesitant raps.

Fuck. Shit. Instant regret bubbles up in your throat and you pivot away. Before you can get far, the door opens and you hear Levi’s sleep-ragged voice utter your name like a question. Damn.

You turn back sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve woken you up. Go back to bed.” Your voice is unnaturally breathy as Levi tries to make you out in the dim light of the moon filtering in through the living room window.

He reaches for your shoulder to gently pull you out of the shadows, and realization crosses his face as he registers the tear tracks and haunting terror in your eyes.

“It happened again,” he states.

You nod hesitantly and wipe at your cheeks with the back of one hand. You try again to tell him that no, really, you’re fine and he should go back to bed, but the words get lost in the tangle of truths between your brain and mouth.

Instead, what comes out is: “Can… can I sleep with you?” Your eyes finally flick to his before you quickly follow up. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, I just- it helps to have someone close….”

Levi watches you for a moment before sliding his hand from your shoulder to your hand and tugging gently.

“Come on.”

You follow him inside and fidget awkwardly at the side of his bed as he climbs in. His room is impeccably neat, not that you would expect anything different from the man who once gave you a five minute lecture about leaving dishes in the sink to soak. It was the most words you’d heard him string together at the time, and he only stopped when he realized you were laughing.

“You sound like my Great Aunt Cheryl,” you said between hiccups of mirth. “Insufferable woman.”

He had looked at you scathingly, then made you promise never to leave the dishes for later again on pain of changing the wifi password.

Once he’s settled, Levi turns back the covers on your side and looks at you expectantly. You falter a split second before climbing in next to him, the familiar smell of his laundry detergent clouding around you as you fall back into soft pillows. He throws the comforter over you, then settles down and opens his arms.

“C’mere, kid,” he says with a tenderness that makes a sniffle catch in the back of your throat.

You roll into his arms, resting your head in the curve of his shoulder and breathe the first easy breath since you woke up. An arm flung around his middle means your whole body is against his, warming you up like a midafternoon nap in August.

Levi settles his arm around your back after tucking in the blankets and holds you like you’ve always belonged there. He gradually, gradually feels you relax into him as your breathing begins to match his own.

After a while, your eyes droop closed and Levi allows himself the indulgence of tucking his nose into your hair. A bouquet of lavender shampoo and you accompanies him softly into his dreams.

(read part 3 here)

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #hange zoe #swearing #insomnia #nightmares #panic attack #painter's hands and guatemalan coffee #valkyrie writes

202 notes · View notes

mrslilyrogers · 5 years ago

Text

Betrayal Part 5

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: (AU) Set in New York. You and Bucky have been married for 5 years. He’s the love of your life and you are his. At least, you thought you were until he started slipping away from you, coming home late and smelling of another woman’s perfume? You are in denial. Are you just losing your mind or are you really losing him?

Author’s notes: Hello guys! For those who want to get tagged, please just message me in my ask. Without further ado, here is Part 5. Hope you’re all ready :D

Warnings: Cheating, Angst

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

“Come on, pick up pick up,” Y/N said into the phone as she called Bucky. She looked at Lizzie who whimpered in her sleep, her fevered skin flushed. Immediately after her argument with him, she stormed to their room and locked the door. She didn’t care where he slept anymore. Whether he stayed on the couch, or went back to his mistress, that was all up to him. She wasn’t going to tolerate this, she couldn’t even if she wanted to. The fact that he couldn’t even face her, couldn’t even look her in the eye and tell her the truth was the tipping point. She married a coward. She thought they could fix this, but how could it be fixed when no one wanted to face the truth? She’s had enough. Her love wasn’t enough to fix this marriage and she would choose herself and her daughter before he drowned them both. She had finally decided, come tomorrow morning, she’d take Lizzie with her and figure out how they would go from there. She promised herself tomorrow she would be strong but tonight, tonight’s my time to grieve.

She couldn’t help her nagging suspicion to check downstairs to see if he had actually stayed. It wouldn’t have mattered either way but she wanted to know. Her padded footsteps across the dark, empty living room floor solidified her suspicion.

She married a coward.

She picked up their wedding photo on the table by the couch, hardly recognizing the two people madly in love staring back at her. Since when had they become strangers? She didn’t even know how long she’d been standing there, staring at the picture frame in her hands. All her dreams of a happy family with him crushed and all for what? She hoped it was worth it for him. She took a step back, leaving the frame facing down, not having the courage to look at it any longer and headed to the kitchen. How else would she grieve anyway without the help of her favorite bottle of wine?

At some point way past midnight, after consuming more than half the bottle while she tortured herself scrolling through their old pictures on her phone, she knew she had to call it a night. Everything looked better in the morning, she reminded herself as she dragged her feet up the stairs to check on Lizzie. She hoped to God it was true, how else would she survive?

The sight of Lizzie stopped her in her tracks. What the hell happened? Her skin was flushed as she shivered in her sleep, curling her body into a ball with her tiny hands clutched at the blanket. Y/N ran the few steps to her and immediately dropped the back of her hand on her forehead, feeling herself sober up as quickly as Lizzie’s heated skin shocked her. This was bad. This was really bad. She had a full blown fever in a span of a few hours. Was that even possible? She seemed fine, she said she was only tired, How could they have missed this? Her panicked mind moved before she even registered what she was doing, “Come on, pick up, pick up,” she begged into the phone before his voice sent her straight to voicemail. Damn it! She paced the room, calling Bucky again.

“Mommy? I don’t feel so good,” Lizzie croaked from her bed. Y/N rushed back to her, immediately tucking her phone back in her pocket as Lizzie vomited right where she was.

“Sorry,” she rasped, laying her head back on her pillow.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s okay. Mommy’s gonna get you cleaned up, okay?” Y/N tried not to let her alarm show, her hands shaking when she changed her out of her soiled clothes.

“Baby, mommy’s gonna be right back, she’ll just get you medicine okay?”

When Lizzie just nodded, she quickly ran to their medicine cabinet to grab the thermometer and Children’s Tylenol. She added some washcloths too and a basin full of water, hoping she was doing the right thing. When the normally fussy Lizzie didn’t even complain about the taste of the medicine, she knew just how bad she felt. Worry and panic gnawed at her as she tried to remember how her mother used to treat her when she was sick. Wiping the tepid washcloth over Lizzie’s skin, she tried to think of her options. She should call Nat despite the late hour. Bruce should know what to do even though he always says he wasn’t that kind of doctor. Those PhDs had to count for something right? After placing the cloth on Lizzie’s forehead, she measured her temperature. Please don’t let it be too high, please don’t let it be too high. 102 °F. Shit.

She paced the room again and wrung her free hand as she waited for her best friend to answer her call but to no avail, she got redirected to voicemail. Shit, shit, shit. This time she called Bruce, not caring anymore that she’d be waking them up. When no one answered, Lizzie whimpered again.

“Mommy, I’m dizzy,”

Y/N took that as a bad sign and put her soothing hand on her child’s forehead. “I know, sweetheart. Does anything else hurt?”

She just shook her head and raised her blanket higher.

“Alright, baby. Rest first okay? Mommy will take care of you, I promise,”

She picked her phone up again, giving a quick text to Bucky to call her as soon as he could before calling Steve, somehow knowing he’d know what to do. She needed his calming authoritative nature while her mind had gone haywire. He has always been the one in their group to call for emergencies, it just came with his hero complex.

“Hey, Y/N, what’s going on?” Steve asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Steve!” He heard her frantic reply on the line, making him sit up on his bed. “I can’t contact Bucky, he isn’t home and Lizzie, she’s sick. She has a fever, she’s thrown up already and I--”

“Hold on, hold on, Y/N, calm down. Have you given her anything?”

“I just gave her Tylenol but she’s still burning up and I think she’s nauseous, I don’t know what to do. Nat hasn’t picked up so I couldn’t ask Bruce what else I could give her, I should bring her to the hospital right? What am I saying? I’m bringing her now,” Steve could hear her panicked footsteps while she gathered everything she needed.

“Y/N wait, where the hell is Bucky? Should I try looking for him now?” He asked, already putting his shoes on. Y/N barely heard him, checking her driver’s license in her purse and grabbing her car keys before remembering...

“Shit!”

“What?” Steve asked, his heart in his throat. What now?

“Steve, I’ve been drinking! I need to call you back, I have to book an Uber,”

“No. Stay where you are. I’ll come get you,” his calm voice ordered, belying the anger he felt inside. If Bucky wasn’t already dead, he’d be sure to kill the jerk himself.

_______________________________________________________________________

Bucky woke up with a splitting headache as he stretched his sore muscles from the odd angle he fell asleep in. His bent legs burning from squeezing himself into the small couch of his office. He sat up, groaning, while he massaged the tense muscles of his neck. He had been so mad after receiving that text from Celeste. It had been almost a week since he ended it with her, the day that Lizzie with her big and generous heart, proudly smiled at him when she thought she had solved his problem by making her uncle Steve go for her career day instead of him, her actual father. He still remembered it like a blow to the stomach, knocking the air right out of him. His daughter, so giving and thoughtful and he’d inadvertently pushed her away, pushed them away. It still sent chills to his spine to think of just how close he is of losing them. So instead of facing his wife last night, instead of admitting his mistake, he let his demons get the best of him and ran. Ran to drink himself into oblivion but her face was all he could see. The disappointment she felt for him etched in her features. She had lost hope and he knew it. What was he going to do? Drinking definitely wasn’t it. The more sensible part of his brain told him. But his whole life, that’s all he’s ever known. Rumlow’s laughing voice echoing in his head, “You’ll always get your answers at the end of a bottle,” Bucky cursed himself. He thought he’d buried that part of himself when he met Y/N, when she gave him her smile and her heart without a care of his past and he was selfish enough to take it. He should’ve known he’d fall back in, it’s just who you are. Just when he thought his night couldn’t get any worse, his phone vibrated from his pocket, a text from Celeste. Right, just what he needed. Of course, it was going to get worse.

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

So there he was almost at midnight, knocking at her apartment door, hoping he’d get this over and done with fast enough. He really wasn’t in the mood for any of her theatrics, he just wanted it to be over. She opened her door slightly and flashed her seductive smile before revealing herself in her new form-fitting red lingerie. Bucky rolled his eyes and groaned. Why couldn’t she take the hint? It turned out she didn’t at all. She took his groan as a good sign and wrapped her arms around him.

“Missed you Bucky,” she pouted before she rose on her tiptoes to try and kiss his neck. Bucky immediately pushed her by the arms away from him.

“Stop, Celeste. That’s enough!” he barked at her.

“What the hell, Bucky!” she screamed back at him, indignant.

“We’re over. I already told you, so please just stop with your messages and your calls. You knew this wasn’t gonna last,” That was true. The moment she saw the ring on his finger and still pursued him, he made sure to let her understand that their relationship was never going to get any further from being physical, that was their arrangement.

“What we have is good, Bucky! How could you let this go?” She pleaded, launching herself at him again to change his mind, hoping that he’d remember just how much he loved her body and how she could make him forget.

“Stop!” Bucky said, grabbing her arms again to push her away. He didn’t know what the hell he saw in her now. He always thought they were on the same page, she thrived on the thrill and he needed an escape.

“So what’s your plan now? Go back to your boring wife and play house with your family?” She scoffed while Bucky stiffened, feeling his jaw tic.

“You’re a broken man, Bucky. You need me, I can help you.” She let her fingers trail his chest. Bucky’s eerily calm demeanor disguised the storm he felt brewing inside. He grabbed her hand in a bruising grip, his voice menacingly low as he told her,

“Don’t you dare talk about my family like that. If you want to continue destroying your life, then go ahead, chase another married man for all I care. I am out.” He walked away from her, striding out the door while he felt his blood pump in his veins.

“I hate you, Bucky Barnes!” She screamed from the open doorway.

You and me both, he thought to himself. You and me both.

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He let out a sigh as he leaned back on the couch and massaged his temples, his dry throat working while the events of the night played on a loop in his head. What a fucking mess I made. His head pounded as shame filled him. He couldn’t go home and face Y/N right away, not while he was drunk and desperate for forgiveness. She didn’t deserve him drunkenly begging his apologies. He was fully planning on begging and groveling however way she wanted him to but not while his mind was muddled with alcohol. What was it she said again? Drinking and evading were what he was good at. It had hurt but she was right. Thankfully, he had just enough sense to crash in his office. He was a mess, but he was willing to do anything, anything to have his wife back and make her happy if she’d let him. He didn’t deserve her, he knew that too, but he was a selfish man. He needed her, she was the only woman he ever loved, the only one who made him feel right. Suddenly, his phone lit up from the coffee table in front of him, his brows furrowing when he saw Y/N and Steve’s missed calls. Dread formed at the pit of his stomach as his blood ran cold making him run as fast as he could out of his office.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Where is she?” Bucky’s voice boomed around the emergency waiting room while he ran straight to Steve. Steve’s jaw muscles clenched as he watched his friend run a hand through his disheveled hair, his skin pale, and his sweat and breath reeking of alcohol.

“Where the hell were you, Bucky?” Steve squared his shoulders, standing up. “Your daughter is sick! And your wife has been looking for you! What the hell has gotten into you lately?” he asked accusingly, his voice rising. Several heads in the room turned to them but Steve couldn’t care less. His friend was going to have a piece of his mind.

“I know, I know. I fell asleep at my office,” Bucky replied knowing how pathetic he sounded even to his own ears.

“Bullshit! Do you really expect anyone to believe that? God damn it, Bucky! Look at you!” Steve’s nostrils flared, his hands balling into fists at his sides. The normally restrained Steve with his easy smiles gone, in his place was a man on the brink of losing control. He thought of Bucky as a brother but the overwhelming urge to punch him was so strong he was considering it. If they were anywhere but at the hospital for Lizzie, he was sure to have done it already. Lizzie, the sweet little girl he loved as his niece, was sick while her dad looked like he just came from someone else’s bed. Steve had his doubts at first but looking at him now, he was sure.

“How could you do this to your family? You, of all people, should know better than this!” He jammed his index finger into Bucky’s chest making him stumble back but he remained silent and accepted everything his best friend said knowing he deserved it.

“What would’ve happened if I hadn’t answered my phone? Y/N almost drove Lizzie in her state of panic, even though she’d been drinking. Did you know that?” Steve’s gruff voice made Bucky’s eyes flash with alarm before he looked down, gritting his teeth. He could feel Steve crowd in on him, taunting him and he wished he’d just punch him, hurt him. He deserved it. He deserved worse.

“Steve,” Y/N’s quiet, assertive voice interrupted them. She laid her hand on Steve’s back to calm him down, making him step away from Bucky and let go of the huge breath he’d been holding.

“Lizzie’s asleep. She’s feeling better now. The results of the tests shouldn’t take long,” she informed both of them, her eyes avoiding Bucky’s.

“Steve, you should head home. I’m sorry I woke you up, I’m not even sure if this was even an emergency. I think I might’ve just panicked,” she tried to keep her voice light but her smile didn’t reach her eyes, her back remaining rigid.

“Hey, no. You did the right thing,” Steve reassured her, nodding. She gave him a small smile before hugging him.

“Thank you Steve, really. What would we have done without you?” Y/N spoke to his neck. He rubbed his hand along her back, willing her the strength and comfort she needed to face her husband.

“Don’t worry about it. Everything would be fine. Are you sure you want me to go?” He asked her gently.

“You’ve done enough. You should rest. I promise to text you how it goes,” she said encouragingly at him. He nodded at her before turning to look coldly at Bucky. He strode away from them not bothering to say goodbye to him but Bucky reached his hand out, grabbing his arm.

“Thank you Steve, for being here. I mean it.” His voice was raw with sincerity, trying to convey just how grateful he was to have a brother in him. Steve’s jaw tensed before he nodded once and pulled his arm out of Bucky’s grasp, leaving him and Y/N alone together.

“Y/N…” Bucky said as he faced her, guilt and shame written all over his face. She turned to face him finally, her expression blank, as she asked him in a calm and steady voice,

“Do you love her?”

Her resolve not at all betraying the riot inside her mind and heart, ignoring the pain that lodged itself deep in her chest. At last, she had the courage to ask what she wanted to know all long, what kept her awake at night when she thought of him and where he was, what he was doing with her. Did she know him the way she did? Did she run her fingers down his spine the way he liked? Did she kiss that soft spot behind his ear that made him shiver? Did she love him? Did he love her? It seemed all her questions ended and revolved around that. Funny how only three words were all it took to change their lives forever.

Bucky’s breath caught in his chest as he swallowed a lump in his throat. This was it, he thought, she was going to leave him.

“Y/N, please. I wasn’t—”

“Answer the question, Bucky. Stop treating me like I’m stupid. I deserve to know,” she cut him off in her eerily resolved voice, and raised her chin. She looked so brave and so regal and he was so so stupid to have taken her for granted, to have neglected her. He could never forgive himself.

“No, Y/N, no. God, I’m so stupid, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he pleaded frantically as he grabbed her hands in his, only to have her flinch and pull herself away harshly from him as if his touch burned her.

“Y/N please—” he tried again.

“No, no, don’t touch me,” she said, emotion finally seeping into her voice, her eyes brimming with tears that she would not let fall down. Not for him, never for him anymore.

“I don’t love her, Y/N. I love you. You’re the only one, please listen,” he tried again, his voice sounding pathetic to his own ears.

“Stop, Bucky. It doesn’t matter!” She said, her nostrils flaring, eyebrows drawn together. She huffed, regaining her control as she drew in long breaths, and shook her head, “It doesn’t matter,”

Bucky felt his world spin, fear pulsing in his veins as he stood frozen, while his wife told him there was nothing he could say or do that would matter anymore. He had made his choice, he had to lie in it. Still, while his mind understood and knew what she was saying, the heart was a treacherous thing, and his hoped and fought against all odds to have her listen, to get her back.

“Y/N, please. I love you. Let me explain, I’m begging—”

“Bucky, Stop. I can’t,” she shook her head, unable to finish, not knowing what to say as she took several steps back.

“I can’t even look at you right now. I just, I can’t,” she continued to shake her head, her thoughts and feelings stuck in her throat. She was disgusted with him, she couldn’t even stand him. And he just stood there, watching her longingly, his hands clenching at his sides when she started to walk away.

“Y/N wait… I don’t mean… Just, can I stay for Lizzie? Bring you guys home?”

Y/N had never heard him sound so small and unsure. She let out a breath she’d been holding, he was Lizzie’s father after all, no matter how he treated her, that wasn’t ever going to change. She nodded her head, knowing how much it would break her heart to have him still here but she couldn’t just think of herself, she had to think of her daughter, and she’d do anything for her.

“Thank you,” she heard his defeated voice say above the din as she put one step in front of the other, not once daring to look back at him while the sea of chatter and activity in the emergency room droned on, leaving a sorrowful man standing in the middle of the waiting room watching the one thing in his life he did right walk away. Her voice a constant echo in his mind, “It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter,”

Part 6

_____________________________________________________________________

A/N: Sorry to have misled you in the ending of Part 4! Hope you enjoyed this one and let me know what you think!

Tags: @wannabedaphne @pinkisokay @jgiiy @scarletnerd05 @93generation @i-ship-it-ironically @ilovesupersoldiers @joannie95 @xapham @hazel0clouds @foreveralone19588 @angstytoddd @nsfwsebbie @thisishowdynastiesareborn @learisa @bucky-fanfiction @guns-and-angels @mylife-love-and-other-things @iheartsebastianstan @tinystudentfirepurse @captainamerica-is-bae @cloudyskylines @chipilerendi @yesfanficsaremylife @mcueveryday @visiblethirdspace @afterlaughter27 @mr-robot-x @captainchrisstan @agusdoti @mrsfox79 @cha-lyn @xoxabs88xox @rinkashirikitateku @racing-against-the-sunset @thefridgeismybestie @inactivewhore @doyleme1103 @rynabarnesrogers @remilupin22 @winterboobear11 @marvelousbarnes @groovyhumantrashherring @sarcastic-and-cool@enchantedcruelsummer @princesskhy @unlikelygalaxygiver @atomicsoulcollecto@fandomsfallnomore @ritzintherabbithole @too-many-lanes @jxtr610

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #marvel fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #betrayal

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 4 years ago

Text

here it is! the first part of UTCM!

wc: 4.8k

taglist | story masterlist

͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

With clothes flying across the room, trying to make each article of clothing land in the target of a rectangle, you rummage through your closet, trying to find the specific piece of your most treasured clothing.

One that meant something special to you.

As you dig through your drawer, trying to find the thick, vintage tee your dad had given you (more like you stole it and never gave it back), your hand finally feels the familiar material that has brought you comfort and lots of compliments if you do say so yourself.

With a proud ‘bingo’ escaping your lips, you’re not surprised that it’s the only shirt you folded and gently put into your suitcase. You looked around your room, finding the hurricane of clothing sprawled out on the floor and your bikini top on your lap shade. Laughing a bit, you drop to your knees and begin to pick up your clothes, stuffing it into the suitcase.

You check the time and see that it’s five minutes to 9 AM and your phone rings on your bedside table, knowing you’re behind schedule. You quickly grab your phone, placing it between your shoulder and your ear, and continue grabbing your clothes.

“Yellow?”

“Honey, quit answering the phone like that.” You take the phone from your shoulder and put it at arms reach before sighing, knowing you should’ve looked at the caller ID.

“Hello, mother. How are you on this fine morning?” Your voice changes from playful to proper tone only to tease her.

“Oh, quit it. I was just calling to see if you were all packed and ready.”

“Yup!” You say confidently, looking around your room as it says otherwise. Obviously, packing wasn’t your greatest talent.

It was your best friend’s parent’s anniversary. Minny has informed you a month ago, knowing that you would procrastinate on packing, and to be fair, she was right. Packing wasn’t your favorite, and she knew that. Aww, my best friend knows me so well.

You and Minny have been best friends since you were 7. You two met at school and were in the same class. Because of the two’s last names being right next to each other on the roll call, you were assigned to sit right next to her. Throughout the years in school, you had always remained close. Sure, you two have met other people and became friends with them, but nothing came as close as the bond you have with her.

It was 20 years of eating at lunch together, never missing a day. Sleepovers. Day and night calls to gossip or vent. Laughs. Petty arguments. Crying over stupid boys and girls that broke your heart. Monthly ‘glo the fuck up’ day. Jogging in the park. Living life. And most importantly, love.

Damn, we’re getting old.

“I’m sad I can’t make it to Dan and Lina’s anniversary trip.” Your mother sighed over the phone.

Yours and Minny’s family had practically become one big family when you both turned 10. With occasional sleepovers and meet ups at the mall, your parents had become really great friends with hers.

“I know, Mom. But you practically see them everyday, so it’s fine. They understand why.” You try reasoning out with her.

“I hope so.” She sighs sadly on the phone, and it makes your heart hurt.

“They do understand. Trust me.”

“I wish you were here-” She immediately cuts off.

“Mom, I can go with you. I don’t have to go on Dan and Lina’s trip. Let me call Minny so I can tell her to not come by.”

“No, no!” You pause. “Please, don’t miss out on having fun for me. I want you to have fun. You deserve it.” You nod, even though she can’t see you. You check the time, and know you’re running out of time to finish packing.

“You deserve it too, Mom.” She doesn’t say anything, but you know she’s smiling on the other side of the call.

“Hey, Mom. I gotta go. Minny is almost here to pick me up, so I just wanna double check everything.”

“Of course, honey. I’ll call Lina later. Say hi to Minny for me. I love you.”

“Will do. I love you too.” The door knocks once you hang up the call. Curses scolding yourself for being so lazy and procrastinating fly from your lips as you get the door.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” The last person you were expecting was seeing your ex boyfriend on your doorstep with keys in his hand. He wore rust color corduroy pants, a stripe shirt, and a turquoise jacket that’s stitched on the side. His hair was pushed back by his black sunglasses and he was wearing his pearl necklace. You hate to admit that he looks good and can possibly rock anything he wore, and you despised him for that along with other reasons.

“Wow. No, hi or how are you Harry? I’m doing great, thanks for asking.” He says sarcastically and you roll your eyes, walking back to your room to finish packing. “Well, I see you’re still not that great with organizing your time, or your clothes.” You don’t say anything because you really don’t want to speak to him at the moment, or at all. “I’m assuming Minny didn’t tell you.” Your eyes perk up into confusion.

“Minny didn’t tell me what?” You ask, continuing to fold the last pair of clothes.

“She asked me to pick you up. You know, to take you to the lake house.” If it were possible, steam was coming out of your ears. Why hadn’t Minny told you? You huff loudly for Harry to know that you’re clearly annoyed before grabbing your phone and immediately dialing Minny’s number, and waiting for her to pick up.

Harry looks around your room, seeing as things haven't changed with you, and you want to kick him out as soon as you're done talking to Minny.

“Hey, girl! Are you on your way?” Her voice is high and she clearly is not prepared for what you’re about to give her.

“How can you have Harry pick me up? And why didn’t you tell me that you couldn’t pick me up?”

“Clearly, you’re the best at greeting people anymore.” Harry says, leaning against the door frame as he wears a smirk, and you immediately flick him off. He puts his hand on his chest with an exaggerated jaw drop, pretending to be offended.

“I’m so sorry. I meant to tell you, I promise. But my dumbass of a brother decided to come last minute because his plans got cancelled, and so we were all rushing out the door and putting everything in the car.” You hear Minny’s brother, Jackson, say ‘hey!’ and you sigh.

“It’s okay, I understand.” Not wanting to be annoyed anymore, you brush it off.

“I can find someone else to pick me up, no worries.” Harry raises his hands up as if he’s saying ‘I’m literally here to pick you up.’

“No! Just take the ride from Harry. After all, he is staying at the house too.” Your eyes widen.

“What?! Why would you invite him?”

“You know, you’re doing a lot of talking like I’m not here in the room right now.” You mouth ‘shut up’ to him.

“Please, just go with him. We’re almost there anyways and I don’t want you guys to be late because you want to be difficult. Just ride with him. It’s only like a 3 hour drive and you can sleep on the way, and then not talk to him for the rest of the trip.” She persuades.

Minny was always good at persuading people. In college, both of you were commuting from home and didn’t stay at the dorms, so you didn’t know that many people, especially not in the frat or sorority houses. She had convinced her parents that they needed a weekend to get out of the house and take a nice getaway trip, laying out the pros and cons so she can throw a party. And they really thought her pros outweigh the cons.

“Ugh! Okay, fine.”

“Thank you! Love you! Bye!” She gets off the phone quickly, and you turn to Harry.

“Shall we get on the road?” He smiles. You were finally finished with packing and rolled your luggage to the front, ignoring him. He comes out of your room with your bikini top in his hand, and your eyes widen, forgetting to take it from the lampshade. “Think you forgot this.” He holds it up and you snatch it quickly. And you’re both out the door and possibly going on the worst trip.

Two weeks and I’ll be home.

͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

Two hours down. One more to go.

The entirety of the car ride had been filled with awkwardness and silence. If music hadn’t been playing, you were sure you were going to explode. Harry had asked you if you were alright about a million times or if you were too hot or cold. You kept your responses to a minimum, replying with ‘yeah, I’m good’ or ‘I’m okay’. Harry was gripping the steering wheel so tight, that he was sure his hand would cramp up when he tried to unlatch. The tension and awkwardness was getting to him. He hated that things had ended up like this between the two of you, but he was willing to change that. He wants to change that.

“R. E. D.” He says suddenly after minutes of not talking, and just listening to the sound of the music and the engine of the car.

“Pardon?” You turn to face him.

“C’mon, you don’t remember the game we used to play when we would go on road trips?” He asks hopefully, looking at you quickly before turning his head back on the road.

Of course you remember. Hours on the road with him, going to the next destination when he was on tour or outside of the city to get away from everything, led you both to play road trip games that included saying 3 random letters and finding it on a license plate. It’s what made traveling fun and the hours on the road much more interesting. Especially with Harry.

“Yeah, I remember.” You say softly, not showing emotion.

“Okay, well, start looking.”

“You weren’t very good at this game.” You say, but quickly close your mouth, not realizing that you’re thinking out loud.

And Harry’s surprised. He knows that your comment was a teasing one, and he was worried that he would t get a single sentence out of your mouth without you yelling in his face. “I’m very good at this game!”

“I mean, considering that my board was filled with tallies, then I would think you’re bad at it.” You let out a chuckle and Harry has a big smile on his face, thinking it’ll hurt his cheeks later on.

“You literally gave me impossible letters to work with!”

“They’re license plates, not people’s names!” You tease.

“Just look for R.E.D!” He ends the conversation. Although he didn’t want to, he knew that you’re most likely going to blow up in his face if you two acted like a happy couple again. He knew that you would overthink about the bad things overlapping the good, and you would go back to resenting him.

And he was right.

After he ended the conversation, you were thinking about what could’ve been between you; what could still be if he weren’t an asshole. The laughs and teasing you two had just a minute ago were replaced with deep breaths, not knowing if one of you should say a thing again.

There were only a few cars on the same road for you; going to different places. You wondered if people going on a road trip had the same situation with you and Harry: the sharp tension that can be cut like a knife or wanting to jump out of the car.

You must have blanked out for a while because Harry had gotten off the highway and onto a secluded street that leads to the lake house.

The drive through the woods with high boulders and tall trees had you speechless. You got as close to the window as possible, looking up like you’ve just seen a shooting star. Nature has always been such a fascination to you. You’ve always loved camping trips and hiking; so much that you’re currently an environmental scientist.

You don’t notice with your head practically sticking out the window, but Harry is having such a hard time keeping his eyes on the road. He thinks that it’s admirable how passionate you are, especially about nature and animals because it’s rare that people end up doing what they love. And he loves seeing you so passionate about what you love.

The drive surrounded by the forest didn’t take long; about 20 minutes, and Harry had already pulled up into the gravel driveway in front of the lake house.

The famous lake house that Lina and Dan have owned for 30 years; ever since they got married. It was a rather large lake house; able to fit two families of four. With brown wood hammered onto the sides and evergreen border along the windows, the house was generally very comfortable and homey. They had kept renovating throughout the years to keep up with the times changing, and they’re loving how modern it looks as of now, but very welcoming at the same time.

“Well, we’re finally here.” Harry says, cutting off the ignition and getting out of the car. You do the same as well and meet him where the truck is popped open, Harry grabbing his bags. You went to reach for it, but Harry slaps your hand away.

“Hey!”

“Don’t worry about the bags. I got them.”

“Thanks.” You give him a soft smile.

“And besides, you’ve packed for like a month when we’re gonna be here for two weeks, and you were barely able to carry it out of your house.” He teases.

“For a matter of fact, I happen to be very strong.” You cross your arms.

“Okay, whatever you say, Captain.” The pet name slipped out. When you and Harry were together, he started calling you Captain because sometimes you can be so aggressive and demanding, but passionate, that it felt like you were the Captain of the ship, which technically you were. You were always in charge, always right, and always planning everything. Captain just stuck, and he thought it was so perfect for you.

The pet name had definitely startled you. You haven’t heard that name come from his lips in forever. And admittingly, you missed it. But you don’t tell him that, of course.

Harry notices your shock and just smiles instead of pushing it. He instead walks towards the car once his hands are full.

“Hey, Harry?” He could’ve sworn that his head got jumbled up at your call for him because of how fast he turned around.

“Yes?”

“R.E.D.” You pointed towards Minny’s car with a smirk on your face. Harry looks at her license plate and his jaw drops, but you see the corners of his lips turn up.

“How did you-”

“You think I don’t know my best friend’s license plate when she’s had this car for 4 years?” Your smile is amusing and Harry has missed this side from you.

“Well done.” He drops the bags and starts clapping.

“Make sure to mark my tally.” You walk past him and towards the house. Harry turns around, watching you walk. Specifically landing his eyes on your hips and watching them sway like you own the fucking world. It’s endearing and he loves it. He loves how sometimes you can walk the whole universe and own it, but he always loves how you shy away from things and look for reassurance. He loves it.

You don’t turn around because with the smile and hint of blush that crept onto your face, it’s bound to be a disaster if he sees it.

“Aye, aye, Captain.” He chuckles before picking up the bags and following your footsteps.

͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

The inside of the house was opposite of what it looked like from the outside. While the outside was rustic and dark looking, the inside was light and provided very much needed natural lighting due to the big window that overlooks the lake. Sun shines bright through the window and into the house that it almost hurts to look out, but that’s Mother Nature at her finest.

You head up to your usual bedroom that you claimed when you were younger, having taken trips to this house for so many years that your feet just subconsciously took you to your room.

It remained the same: big window that led to a small balcony, wooden frame bed, and a mattress that is the perfect size and comfort for you. The walls were white, and with the light coming through, it made the room look even bigger.

Usually you and Minny would sleep in the same room, but there were enough rooms so you two can have your own. But there were some nights where you would spend the night with her, and her, you.

You hadn’t noticed Harry following you to your room, but when you hear bags drop onto the floor, you jump and turn around. “You scared me.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to. Thought you heard me following you.”

“No, I didn’t. I was just distracted with my thoughts.”

Harry leans against the door frame and crosses his arms. “What about?” He asks curiously.

“Just… haven’t been here in a while, and I miss it.” He only nods, and it quickly goes back to silence. “Thank you for bringing my bags up.” This time, he smiles.

“Not a problem. Let me know if you need anything else, Captain.” You chuckle.

“Will do.” He leaves your room and shuts the door close, knowing you’d probably want to settle in and change into more lounge clothing.

You sit on your bed, facing the window, and look out at the lake. You don’t know what you’re feeling. Before you saw him today, you would just get mad that you’re thinking about him, but that car ride broke every anger that clung onto your body. It was like your mind naturally reacted to Harry in a way that you couldn’t control. You can control anything else, but not with Harry. You naturally felt a pull towards him, and no matter how much you wanted to cut off the string you couldn’t.

You had definitely missed the feeling of being around him, and that makes you angry. Angry at yourself because he hurt you.

You try not to cry with the thoughts swirling in your head. You take in the beautiful view from your bedroom and tell yourself that you shouldn’t be sad because you’ve got a long trip ahead of you.

As you changed into your lounge clothes, you headed downstairs to greet the family that was just back from the backyard.

“Oh, sweetheart! I’m so happy you’re here!” Lina greets you with a warm hug. Dan does the same, giving you a bear hug.

“Happy anniversary! How are you guys?” You ask the married couple.

“We’re doing great! I’m excited this time has come again! We’ve got so much planned.” You smile at their excitement. They turned to look at each other and you can’t help but admire their love for one another, even after all these years.

Yours and Minny’s parents’ love was like no other. You were pretty blessed to grow up around healthy relationships, and can’t help but feel so fond of the love they have for each other and wanting it for yourself.

“The kids are still outside.” Lina kisses your cheek and Dan pats your shoulder before they head to the kitchen.

You walk through the glass slide door that leads to the stunning view of the water that the sun reflects onto. You take a deep inhale in, breathing in the world’s scent. The outside is such a beauty that some people take it for granted.

“Ahh!” The famous screams come from no other than Minny. “You’re here!” She runs to you and you engulf her into a big and hard hitting hug. Jackson also hugs you and runs his hand on top of your head, messing up your hair.

“Dickhead!” You slap his chest.

“How are you, other little sister?”

“Oh, you know, here.” You say, not knowing what to say, so ‘here’ is usually your backup for not really wanting to say how you feel.

Minny rolls her eyes, knowing you all too well for your liking. “How was the drive?”

“It was…interesting.”

“Well, that’s my cue to go.” Jackson walks back to the house, and leaves Minny and I to talk.

“Was it that bad?” Minny asks worriedly.

“No, it wasn’t bad. It was just awkward and there was tension between us. But then we started playing our famous road trip game and I started teasing him, and ugh! I smiled and laughed a little and I hated it.” You huffed and looked down.

“What, why?”

“I-I don’t know. I just… I was expecting to have the worst trip when he showed up at my doorstep, but my mind is taking over.”

“Your mind or your heart?” Minny tests. You don’t reply. You just look at her, not knowing if she genuinely wanted a response or she was just testing you.

“Why did you invite him?” You ask at the wrong time because you don’t hear the sliding door open, revealing Harry.

“Hey, Minny.” He smiles softly at her and steps out of the house to hug her. Your breath was hitched in your throat, feeling guilty about your question because you didn’t hear him.

“Hey, Harry.” She smiles back and hugs him. Once they let go of their embrace, Harry turns to you.

“If you don’t want me here so bad, then the Captain shall be obeyed.” He teases, but you know that he’s more hurt than what he puts on. He puts on a brave face, but really you see it in his eyes that he’s hurt. You know that your question had hurt him and it was just the wrong timing to ask that.

“I didn’t mean it like that…”

“Didn’t you?” His head turns slightly, knowing he’s trying to keep his annoyance intact. His voice is different and sarcastic. Minny senses the shift of tension, so she breaks it.

“I invited him because he’s been my friend as long as you have, so he’s practically family too. He’s been to every trip as well, and besides, my parents love him.” She places her arm on Harry’s shoulder, and you can’t help but feel like they’re teaming up against you. Harry walks ahead of us and goes inside while you and Minny trail behind him. You know you shouldn’t think of it like that because they’re not, but you feel like such a downer once you found out that Harry was tagging along. “Let’s go in and eat lunch!” Minny changes the subject, feeling like that’s what they really needed. “By the way, which letters did he ask for?” Minny asks.

“R.E.D,” you smile amusingly and roll your eyes, giving your best friend the ‘I know right?’ look. She laughs loudly, throwing her head back and clutching her stomach.

“Well that was an easy win for you.” She says and you nod, before putting an arm around your shoulder, walking inside the house for lunch.

Lina had prepared salad, homemade garlic bread, Brussel sprouts, and mashed potatoes. Dan had cooked his famous ribs, one that was his specialty ever since he was a young adult. They didn’t want to cook right when they got to the house, so they prepared it beforehand and took it with them.

The six sat down at the table that was set in front of the window. Dan at the end of the table, Lina on his right, Minny right next to Lina, you on the other end, Harry next to you, and Jackson next to Harry. Everyone was loading food on their plates before passing it around or across the table, Lina making sure everyone got one of each.

“Alright, eat up!”

The conversation flowed throughout the table. The parents asked the kids how work was going, to which everyone responded that it was going well.

“Harry, honey, is your mom and sister planning to stay as well?” Lina asks.

Harry clears his throat and wipes his mouth before replying, “they might come at the end of the week—probably the weekend. Gems couldn’t get out of work, so they’ll only stay for a few days.” She nodded and turned to you.

“Has your mother changed her mind? About coming?” She gives you a sympathetic look.

“I don’t think so. She said she would call you later.” Lina smiles at that. Your eyes naturally gravitated towards Harry and he has a confused look on his face looking back at you, but you look down at your plate before picking up your ribs and taking a bite out of them.

You listen to the conversation while you eat; Dan telling the table a story about a cliff diving incident that happened to Lina when they were in Greece, and the whole table was laughing their ass off, even though they’ve heard it a million times; it never gets old.

You finished your rib and set it down on your plate before wiping your hands down, and before you went to wipe your lips, you felt a napkin, one that’s not yours, wipe your cheek. You turn and see Harry trying to get the stained sauce from your skin.

“Thank you.” You say awkwardly once he’s done, and he gives you a smile followed by a chuckle. He didn’t mean to do that. He knew you were a messy eater and it was a habit that he wiped stuff off your face. A habit that worked well for the both of you, like you were a team. A natural born team.

Once everyone was finished with lunch, it was nearing 2 p.m already, and the group decided to split and do whatever they please as they were going to be all together tomorrow and the rest of the trip.

After everyone helped clean up the table and kitchen, you decided to take a nap before watching the sun set for the day.

Your body hit the mattress and soft pillows that made you feel like you were on a cloud. The room was dark, thanks to the thick curtains that hung from the metal rod. The only light that was shown was a strip of it coming from the curtain not being able to close all the way. You snuggled your pillow, happy you’re finally getting some rest after a long day.

When you woke up, it was still light out, but not as sunny as it was prior to your nap. You stretched your limbs out, relieving the feeling of any tense muscles from your sleep, and walked downstairs and to the backyard.

“Good nap?” Harry says from the lawn chair that is set on the grass. You rub your eyes, nodding while closing the sliding door. There’s a vacant seat next to him, and you’re not quite sure if you want to sit next to him or watch the sun disappear when your feet are in the water. “Want to sit here?” He asks as if he read your mind.

“I-”

“I can see that you’re debating if you want to sit next to me or not, so I can leave and you can sit here if you want.” He says, and you feel bad a bit. He already thinks that you don’t want him here, and he’s simply here for Lina and Dan.

“It’s okay. You can stay. I’m just going to go by the water.” He only nods and you walk away.

The water softly hits the shore and you feel the coldness of it hit your feet. It’s refreshing and cooling, hoping it’ll cool down your nerves and your mood.

You cross your arms as you watch the sun slowly begin to set. The fascination you have with the sun is like no other. It reminds you of the feeling of hope and a new beginning; how the sun setting resembles the end of a story, a day. And tomorrow is a new day.

You can’t help but think about your situation with Harry and how it’s hypocritical to be talking about a new story when you’ve been clinging onto his story. You feel a little stressed keeping the grudge and anger towards him bottled up because he hurt you bad, but you’re also still in love with him.

As the sky turned from light to dark, you turned around to go inside, and to see if Harry was still sitting on the chair. But when you’re walking away from the water and towards the house, you see the chair empty, and you don't know why you have a sad feeling in your chest.

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myblueeyedbuggers · 4 years ago

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My Boys

Chapter 2

Chapter 1 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14

Pairings: Reader x Steve Rogers (Platonic) Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 1918

Warnings: Language, A tiny bit of Angst

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change.

So, Hi again, I know I said that the next chapter would be shorter but I kinda got carried away with the story, hopefully you guys don’t mind XD As mentioned before All requests and imagines are open, any constructive criticism is welcome. Enjoy Everyone! (I just noticed I linked the wrong page for Chapter 1, not a very good tech student am I? XD)

A few days later-

The right side of my face felt like it was on fire, a constant ache reminding me of what happens when I fail my task, boss handed my ass to me in more ways then one. The damn beatings from the boys made me too weak to stop the bastard named Greg from running off and calling the police, the dick decided to hand himself in instead of spending time with yours truly, which in all honesty is understandable, any sane person would turn and leg it away from a small lass looking like she went 5 rounds with a bear.

Perhaps walking around in the middle of the day isn’t the best idea when your face looks like the rear end of a smashed-up truck, people were stopping and staring at me, it was really doing miracles for my self-esteem (Notice my sarcasm there). I’d already managed to screw up this “mission” anyway, staying undetected with a face like this is nearly impossible, my decision of winging it this morning coming back to bite me in the ass within the first 5 minutes out the house. Safe to I was royally buggered, both literally and figuratively.

My mind was buzzing with different techniques and plans I needed to get the next target, maybe I could break into his house and dig up some dirt on this guy, from what I’ve been told that should be easy considering the dirt bag’s cheating on his wife with the maid from the apartment be- whatever train of thought I had was completed obliterated, somehow my ass hand ended up on the floor. Again. Irritation flooded my veins, whoever did better be ready to dig themselves an early grave, looking up my eyes made contact with the one person who I wished to never see again. Bucky f**king Barnes. “Why is it every time I see you, you’ve somehow managed to piss me off? Is that how you greet everyone or am I just that Special?”, I was met with silence. Not unnerving at all, glancing at him I noticed he was staring at my face with wide eyes, immediately I pulled myself from the floor and ran like hell in the opposite direction.

This is not an ideal situation, to anyone else it’d look like I was running for the bus, when I was actually running for my life, “y/n! stop!” like that’s gonna bloody happen ya moron there’s a flipping reason I’m running, cause I ain’t doing it for fun!I already know I’m gonna regret doing this, my feet changed direction and guided my body down a small but familiar ginnel, two lefts and a right later I was approaching a wall, adrenaline was rushing through my body as I launched myself at the wall. Surprisingly I didn’t faceplant and managed to get a hold of the top of the wall, the lower half of my body erupted in sharp pains, but I needed to ignore them, quickly pulling myself up and leaping off to the other side. As soon as my feet touched the floor I was off, I didn’t really wanna know if Bucky saw what I did or where I went, I might not like the guy, but he doesn’t need to get tangled up in with a hopeless case like me.

Once I was certain that I’d lost him, I crouched down behind some bins and attempted, key word attempted, to catch my breath. I’ll admit that was way too close, anyway why does he care? I was and still am being a complete dick to him, does he not get the hit that I’m not his number one fan? Eh, when’ve I cared? it’s just me against this bullshit world and I’m pretty sure that ain’t gonna change anytime soon. Now fully recovered, I emerged from my hidey hole and… walked right into Bucky. “What the Hell?! Are you some form of f**cking ninja or something, did you not get that don’t wanna talk or do I need to give you a formal letter?!”, he just stared at me with raised eyebrows and let me finish my rant, cocky bugger.

“You done running now? Wanna try telling me who the hell did this?”, okay who the hell crapped him is cereal? “Nobody, I simply fell of a bike earlier on this week avoiding the village idiot”, giving me, an incredulous look Bucky sighed and covered his face in exasperation. Seeing an opportunity to get away, I slowly started edging away and to be fair, I nearly got past him before he grabbed my arm, “do you really expect me to believe that y/n?”.

The glare I sent him could have made Satan himself piss his pants, but Bucky didn’t even flinch much to my frustration, “Believe it, don’t believe it all in all I couldn’t give a shit, now let go of my arm before I rip it off “I’m pretty sure I just growled at him. And of course, the dick does the opposite and tightens his grip on my arm, wait is he dragging me?! The hell! do I look like dog on a leash? “Fine then don’t tell me, but you’re coming to my house to get cleaned up” his tone was final and left no room for arguments, but it’s me, when have I ever backed down from a challenge? “Nope, nah, not happening I can take care of myself thank you very much, now I’ll ask you one last time. Let. Go. Of. My. Arm.”

My voice held so much spite, I hardly recognised it as my own, “No” and with that he picked me up, ignoring my protests, and started carry me to his home

.-40 minutes later

How the hell Bucky managed to carry me for this long, I have no idea, for a lad of 14 he’s impressively strong and that’s the annoying thing, I’ve been trying to get off him for the past 40 minutes and even my hardest punches and kicks just seemed to tickle him. At one point he even started laughing at my threats, which added to my burning rage, the urge to smack this cocky son of a gun was hard to contain at this point. I’ve no idea what neighbourhood were in, it resembled a perfect suburban hub, the ideal place to settle down and raise a family, I wonder what it’s be like to be apart of a fully functioning family coming home to people who loved you…it must be nice.

Unknown to Bucky, a single tear slid down my face, my heart longing for a family to call my own, but that’d never happen, hell according to my parents I wasn’t even supposed to exist, by the time my mother realised she was pregnant it was too late to get an abortion. I was a curse that ruined their lives and their relationship, I’ve got the scars to prove how much of a waste of space I am, “You okay back there? You’ve been quite for more than two minutes” Bucky’s voice cut through my thoughts, for a minute I’d forgotten where I was. Okay that’s enough of feeling sorry for yourself y/n, pull yourself together you’ve managed this long without anyone, “Hello? Are you asleep of somethin?” I swear down this guy is more annoying then my conscious sometimes, “Nope I was thinking of all the different ways I can kick ya ass later buddy boy”, his body vibrated with laughter as Bucky let out a load laugh at my reply.

Do you see what I’m dealing with here ?!, “Good to know you’re back to the you’re ever cheerful self doll”, what in the name of ever loving fudge?! “Since when did I become your doll Barnes? last time I checked slingin’ a girl over your shoulder and carrying her off isn’t the way to get a girl!” all the bugger does is laugh, laugh I tell you! this boy is gonna be the death of me. “You sure about that doll face? cause it worked for me”.

I could practically see the stupid smirk on his face, also can someone explain to me why I’m blushing? For once I had nothing say, my sarcasm failed me…damn it. A low chuckle brought my attention back to the annoyance with legs, more commonly known as Barnes, “We’re almost home Doll, Mama should be able to clean you up in no time” oh no, no, no I don’t do well with parents, or any adult now that I think about it, they always have this look of pity in their eyes when they see me. It’s like they’ve just found a homeless kitten on the street and feel the need to adopt it and take care of it until they get bored, it’s infuriating and embarrassing, “Oi! Barnes, I ain’t telling you again I can look after myself, your mama doesn’t need to trouble herself with me I’m perfectly capable of cleaning myself up!” he let out another frustrated sigh, he must be going for a record it’s the 20th one, before ignoring me completely and walking up the drive.

“Yeah you keep saying you okay by yourself but look at the state of you y/n! you’ve got a busted-up nose and lip, a black eye and a cut on you’re eyebrow! How the hell is that taking care of yourself?!” for once he did have a point, but hell’s gonna have to freeze over before I admitted that, “Not that you’d know this Barnes, but this is what happens every day, I have to make my own livin’ I ain’t got anyone to rely on and it’s been that way for years, it’s how I like it! now put me the hell down before I kick ya ass to China!”.

The sound of an opening door stopped Bucky’s reply, “JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING LUGGIN’ THIS POOR GIRL AROUND LIKE A SACK OF POTATOS?! PUT HER DOWN NOW!” holy mother of all things holy I do NOT want to be on the receiving end of this lady’s anger! I think my ass is attracted to the floor, one minute I’m being held captive by an annoying pillock and the next I’m on the floor nursing a bruised behind, “Jesus Christ talking about letting a girl down quickly!” hands grabbed my upper arms and pulled me to my feet, Bucky’s apologies faded into the background when a shocked gasp silenced the conversation. Slowly I raised my head, Bucky’s mother had tears falling down her cheeks, her brown eyes were filled with the two emotions I hated the most, pity and sadness.

Not being able to keep eye contact any longer, my gaze shifted to the porch floor, her shadow slowly started to move towards me, she was being cautious as if she were approaching a wild animal and I hated it. I hate seeing people treat me like a basketcase, I can’t stand it “I’m very sorry for disturbing you ma’am, I’ll leave” I quickly turn around and start to walk away, about 3 steps in a gentle hand grabs my shoulder and stops me. “Sweetie, you don’t have to apologise for anything, come inside I’ll get you cleaned up, Bucky, honey Steve’s inside with your father and sister” and with that Bucky’s mother guides me inside with a comforting hand and a gentle smile.

Soooo..yeah this happens, I’m not gonna lie I felt really bad writing the sad bit about the reader, I may have teared up a tiny bit, anyway YAY chapter 2 is outta the way!. Hope you all liked it :)Rose xx

#bucky barnes x reader #captain america x reader #reader #mcu #reader insert #steve #bucky #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #fanfic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #captain america

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five-hxrgreeves · 4 years ago

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I Won’t Back Down - Five Hargreeves x OC

Word Count: 1,982

You can stand me up at the gates of hell But I won't back down I'm gonna stand my ground Won't be turned around And I'll keep this world from dragging me down

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

Pt. 3- Monday, April 1, 2019

The morning of the first dawned with a bright blue sky and perfect spring temperatures, almost in mocking irony of the fate it would meet later on that same day. Suspecting nothing amiss, Lola began her usual morning routine of getting ready for school. After brushing her teeth, she went to her closet and decided on a pair of jeans, a white, long-sleeved v-necked shirt with black polka-dots and after brushing her hair, hesitated over a choice of hats that she owned. While there was no strict dress code at her school, she did like to make a good first impression on Mondays. The rest of the week was up for grabs.

Coming to a decision, she reached for a yellow hat with a navy-blue ribbon around the crown that was tied in a bow and placed it jauntily on her head. The brunette was somewhat known around school for her unique accessories so she’d only been indecisive over which style she’d wanted, not actually whether or not to wear a hat. She then pulled on a pair of riding-styled boots and picked up her backpack, sliding her deck of cards into the back pocket of her jeans. Lunchtime was usually a boring affair so it was often when she would practice her magic- sometimes with a crowd to entertain.

On her route to school, Lola passed the familiar Umbrella Academy house and wondered what transpired within the walls, remembering the strange man she’d met the previous week. She wondered how long it had been since all of the siblings had seen each other since from Vanya’s book, it hadn’t seemed like they’d lived under the same roof for a long, long time. A smile flickered across her face as she thought of grown-up superheroes attempting to act like real siblings and the interesting, chaotic bickering that might ensue.

(Of course, she had no idea that such arguments might result in the end of life on earth.)

After that, the day passed as it usually did, with millions and billions of people completely unaware of what the night would bring.

Once dinner was over, Lola scraped her plate clean and set it in the dishwasher before turning it on to run, blatantly unaware that this would be the last time she did such a mundane action for a long, long time. Then, she made her way into the family room where her mother, father and uncle were sitting on the couch about to watch TV. Both men had their traditional after-dinner drink of two fingers of whiskey while her mother sipped on spiked hot coffee.

“Mom?” Lola asked.

“Yes, dear?”

“I’m going to the basement now, all of the dinner dishes are cleaned up.”

Her mother’s blue eyes- the ones she’d inherited- flicked to the younger girl, “alright, but don’t stay up too late. It’s a school night, you know.”

Her uncle grinned, “yeah,” he said, breaking to take a sip from his glass, “wouldn’t want you to show up all grumpy for school tomorrow.”

Lola sighed and nodded in acceptance, “alright, I’ll do my best,” she said, knowing it was more than likely she’d lose track of time anyway.

Moving first towards her mother, then father and finally her uncle, she gave them each a goodnight hug and exchanged their daily I love yous.

(She would be grateful that these were the last words she’d ever said to her family. At least she wouldn’t have to live wondering if her family had known she’d loved them.)

Then, she went to the basement.

Not even a mile away, the beginnings of an altercation were occurring at the house the size of a single block where the seventh, disregarded member of the family of superheroes was receiving a hostile welcome at the introduction of her new boyfriend, Leonard Peabody.

Lola liked her basement. It wasn’t terribly large but it wasn’t terribly small, either. Half of it was unfinished and the other half was lived-in, creating a perfect balance. In the unfinished side, metal shelves that one might see in a hardware store stood floor-to-ceiling with various tools and stored holiday items. Paint cans, electric machinery, extension cords and other items one would normally find in a shed were scattered haphazardly along the shelves.

In the other half, a carpeted floor of some green color stretched from the back wall to right before Lola’s writing desk. On top of it sat an old, brown-leather couch, a black wooden coffee table from IKEA and a TV hung mounted on the wall. After the carpet ended, removable foam-padded tiles formed the floor. This was the area where Lola’s desk sat which was a large, white table. The desktop itself was almost empty except for her half-filled notebook, three different-sized candles, a pencil sharpener and a pencil holder. Her papers- both for school and other things- were stored in a hand-me-down brown file cabinet that stood to the left of her workspace.

Before sitting down to write, the brunette carried out her ritual warm-up: lighting the candles, flipping to the next available page, sharpening her pencil and placing her reference books on her desk- The Book Thief, of course, and her new book from Vanya Hargreeves. Then, she pulled her deck of cards from her back pocket and placed the rectangular box carefully on the lower-left corner of her desk, making sure to match up the corners of the box with the outlined shape created by the corner. She wasn’t sure why she did this, it just was something she absolutely had to do before she finally sat down.

Once finished, Lola made sure to flip the electric lights off and returned to her seat which was a rolly-chair with one broken wheel. She began to write surrounded by her small pool of glowing, flickering light.

Today’s memory is from when I was six. (Note to self: find a better opening.) It was my first time at the store for hours on end. Usually, a babysitter would come by and pick me up but I suppose she cancelled. (NtS: get more details. Just kidding, nobody cares about that.) Anyway, I was super bored and since I was little, I didn’t have any schoolwork to do. I wandered around the store for a bit, probably causing mischief. Anyway (you already said that, dummy) the funny part is that I sat down at a group of mannequins because there weren’t any other seats and I must’ve sat so still that everyone thought I was one because when I finally stood up, a woman screamed. I didn’t know why at the time but it happened again when I was older. Then I started doing it for my own amusement. It was funny to see people think that I was a fake, plastic doll only to realize I was actually real. Sometimes, I even went to the back and dressed in clothes that would soon be modeled by the mannequins- although I think the effect was ruined because I didn’t fit them.

A story up and a block over, the altercation had grown to a full-blown verbal assault, the main four members of the family heatedly questioning the new boyfriend’s insistence on them coming to their sister’s concert. The seventh member, feeling hurt and angry that her family wouldn’t, just once support her, felt the tension build up within her, her emotions unusually high from the lack of medication she’d consistently taken for years until this week.

The spot was also great for people-watching. While Gimbel Brothers has mostly ordinary clients, there are some cases that are more noteworthy (NtS: fix wording, sounds awkward). There are many people who bring children to the store as well. On Mondays, there is an average of twelve children, usually after school. The number varies throughout the week until Saturday where there are usually fifteen or twenty. One time, as an outlier during the holidays, there were twenty-five. I know this because I counted them. I don’t usually do it intentionally and I’m sure I miss some customers but for some reason, all the numbers stick in my head. The funny thing is, I’m terrible at math. I’m also really good at cards, though. I’ve never lost a game of War or Go Fish. My uncle says I’m a counter, which I suppose is true. I’ve also counted all the sequins on one of our formal dresses, just for fun. There were two-hundred and eighty-six.

As the sky grew dark outside, the argument in the large house had reached an all-time high with Leonard Peabody outwardly insulting his girlfriend’s largest brother, inciting his anger and riling him up purposefully, causing him to throw the first punch. The seventh member of the family desperately tried to pull her boyfriend away, to save him from an assault that he would surely not survive. She was right about that, but there was nothing she could do. There was only one person Number One listened to and it wasn’t her.

Anyway, back to people-watching. There was once a rich woman who came to our store. No one could figure out why; we’re not exactly the high-end type. She brought her daughter with her, a pretty, blonde girl with bright blue eyes. Almost like mine, I think, but they looked better on her. I heard her tell Brittany that she wanted to get her granddaughter ‘normal clothes,’ except she said it like an insult. I figure that when her granddaughter came to visit, all she provided were expensive outfits and the girl spilled on them, teaching her the lesson of buying cheaper clothes for little kids. She didn’t say all of that but I made up the story to go along with her request.

Standing over Leonard’s body, the seventh member of the Hargeeves turned on her brother, eyes shining white against her pale face. In his hand, he held a bloody, glass eyeball. Her siblings crowded together, trying to calm her, but she spent all of her life being calm and she was tired of it. Turning her gaze to the academy, the building shook under a ten-point-zero earthquake, the bricks and concrete falling down in rapid succession. Tearing her gaze away from the sight of her childhood hell, she let sound waves resonate through the street, knocking over buildings and causing them to collapse, burying her siblings in rubble. Carelessly, she walked away as anger, sadness and hatred fueled her steps to her apartment where she changed and gathered up her violin for the world’s last performance.

She was very posh too, with fur and everything. She stood still long enough that I could study her coat, which had thirty spots. I’m not sure if it was real fur (if it was, she’s a horrible person), but she certainly acted very high-class, even speaking a little nasally and tilting her head up to look down on Brittany. I think it might’ve been because of Brittany’s skin color. The woman didn’t seem to be very accepting of hard-working people that looked different from her.

At ten o’clock pm, the close of the concert, sound waves so large they felled the building and many blocks over swept through the city. A short, dark-haired woman with a glowing white light in the center of her chest rose above the destruction, sending out pulses of sound to the far-reaching corners of the world. With no one to stop her, no one to shoot a gun next to her ear, the bottled power exploded from her chest sharing with everyone the feelings of hurt and neglect that she’d been forced to endure throughout her childhood. One person alone survived in a basement not much deeper than the fictional character’s she admired, writing away and completely unaware that the world above had changed beyond recognition.

#The Umbrella Academy #Umbrella Academy #five #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x dolores #five hargreeves x oc #five hargreeves x reader #Five x oc #five x dolores #tua five #5 #human dolores #pre-tua #apocalypse #hargreeves #dolores isn't a mannequin #vanya hargreeves

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aphroditestummyrolls · 4 years ago

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This is some Nile!POV Joe/Nicky cuteness that is also the start of the sequel Brother of My Heart and Sono Qui (and Feed My Soul, but there’s no smut here). I wanted to have this posted today, but I’m depressed as fuck and have about 1500 words to go on this lil ditty, so I’m posting a snippet. For shameless validation purposes. Let me know what you think <3

Joe led the way into a cozy back room, flooded with morning sunlight. The back doors were flung open, and Nile could glimpse the trees that she had seen poking out the top of the garden wall before. They were heavy with orange fruit that matched the bowl on the kitchen counter.

The walls were a soft white, reflecting the sun’s rays and turning the whole space to gold. The dark wood of the rafters reminded her of Provence, and she smiled.

“Did you build this one, too?” She asked while the coffee percolated. Joe hummed, shaking his head.

“The foundations of this one might even predate us.” He replied, choosing a tangerine from the bowl and digging his thumbs in to peel it. “We didn’t buy this place until after the Second World War.”

“From the way you guys talk about it, I thought it must’ve been your oldest place— your first place together, or something.”

“Nicky had a hell of a time in the Pacific theatre. And then as a medic in France through the end of the war.” He popped a segment of fruit into his mouth, “We were separated for a long time— longest ever, actually.”

“You didn’t serve in World War 2?” That didn’t sound right to Nile. They fought for what they thought was right, they were an army of four— but Joe skipped out on the biggest war in modern history?

“Joe and I worked in intelligence.” Andy cut in while Joe chewed, “More covert work.”

Nile just nodded, swallowing the thousands of questions bubbling up her throat and filing them away. It was too early.

You ask one question, and suddenly everything‘s a story— she thought, How do people not immediately know you guys are old people? I feel like I’m talking to my grandma.

Not that she was complaining. She had loved her grandma’s stories— it was why she loved history, and wanted to study art. Her stomach clenched, and not for the first time, she remembered what Andy had said— I don’t remember what my mother looked like… or my sisters…

Nile didn’t want to forget her grandma. She didn’t want to forget a minute— the Sundays in the kitchen after church, the smell of earl gray and Werther’s caramels, the peace lily she watered every day after Dad’s funeral.

Hearing stories of all the things they remembered was reassuring. At least they didn’t forget everything.

“Nile?” Joe’s voice shook her out of her thoughts, “Coffee?”

“Yeah. Yeah, thanks.” She took the mug with a deep breath, “Sorry, I’m still a little tired. You were a spy?”

Joe smiled like he understood something unspoken, nodding “Yes. Many times in my life— but I’d never been away from Nicky like that. Three years, it was Hell.”

“It was Hell to listen to your pining.” Andy nudged his shoulder, smiling into her mug.

“You barely even saw me!” He tsked, wagging a finger at her before turning back to Nile, “Anyway, a couple years after the war was over, we decided we needed a break. We picked Malta simply for its position— smack in the middle of the sea between Italy and Tunisia. We didn’t expect to love it as much as we did, but it was a buyer’s market, and…” he started out shrugging, looking down at the orange in his hand, but when he glanced up, he did a double take.

At first, she thought he was looking at her, but he couldn’t be. His gaze was too soft, his smile too charmed, his quiet laugh seemed too practiced for it to be for her. Andy snorted into her mug, her eyes doing that thing that you would expect of a person seeing a baby animal.

“Good Morning, my heart.” Joe cooed, his smile beaming.

Nile looked over her shoulder, and sure enough, Nicky was at the foot of the stairs on the other side of the living space.

He was a sight, all ruffled and tanned, blinking sleep out of his eyes. He was wearing thin shorts and a singlet tank top that must have been Joe’s. It was stretched out just the littlest bit too much for his lanky frame, but what really made Nile choke on her coffee was his hair.

“Finally!” Andy greeted as Nicky plodded his way through the living room to the kitchen, “After 196 years, the long hair returns!”

Joe grinned and Nicky chuckled, running a hand down his face like he could scrub the sleepiness away. “Yes, and it needs to be washed.”

He came up beside Nile with one of his big, warm hands and squeezed the back of her neck, wrapping her into a hug that smelled like detergent and Joe’s sandalwood cologne. She squeezed him around the waist, her smile curving her lips without a thought. He shuffled around the room to Andy, murmuring something soft and Italian that made her smile before hugging her too.

Andy curled her hand around the back of his head, petting through the long strands and humming in contentment. Joe grinned, his eyes catching Nile’s across the counter.

“When my Nico first cut his hair, I think Andy was more bereft than I was.” He said it like a stage whisper, making Nicky snort, unwinding from his friend’s arms while Andy lazily flipped Joe off.

“Don’t worry, Andy, Joe made a very persuasive argument for keeping the hair.” Nicky grinned, turning to the man in question and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He slipped around him behind him, looping his arms loosely around his waist. Nicky sandwiched himself between Joe’s back and the kitchen counter, making the other man hum and lean into him. He peeled off a slice of tangerine and held it over his shoulder for his love. “And yet, now I am the one who wakes up alone in our bed,” he tsked, even as he took the offered bite, “very rude, Yusuf.”

“And what did you expect of me? We have guests, Hayati.”

“You could have woken me and told me we had guests.” He shook his head at Nile in a universal gesture that said can you believe this guy? Even while Joe did the same thing, rolling his eyes in a long suffering way toward Andy.

There was some grumbled Italian kissed into Joe’s neck. It made his eyes crinkle as he laughed, holding out another orange slice.

Nile rolled her eyes fondly, sipping her coffee and wondering how these two soft, sleepy men could possibly be the hardened warriors of epic battles and old paintings.

“I was just telling Nile about how we came to own this palace.” Joe said, slipping out of Nicky’s arms so he could pour another cup of coffee. Nicky hummed, nodding.

“You told her how much I hated it here at first?” He smirked, just a tiny flicker of a thing as the other man pressed a mug into his hand.

Every few minutes with these people, Nile felt like she heard a record scratch. There was always something deeper with them, even in a nondescript little house on the edge of the sea.

“You hated it?” Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline, “But I thought this was your spot.”

“It is now, but there was baggage for me in Valletta that we didn’t know until we got here.” He shrugged, “By then, I figured it must be fate— God telling me that it was time to fight that particular demon.” He looked over at Joe, whose smile had gone tender. Andy nodded at the dregs of her coffee, leaning into Nicky’s side. “The core of this life is learning to change, Nile.”

The silence hung heavily for Nile, but she had the feeling that this was normal for the others— it had been in Provence, too. Every once in a while, something jogged a memory and pulled a feeling or a thought right out of the depths of them. It didn’t matter what time of day, or where in the world they were, sometimes things just hit them. Like Chicago.

It was weirdly comforting.

Times like this usually meant a story, and Nile wanted to hear this one. She needed to hear this one.

“But how d’you keep changing without forgetting?” She finally asked with a voice that was smaller than she wanted it to be.

Nicky smiled. Like Joe, he looked softer than he had in the church or the lab or in Provence. There was an ease in the set of his shoulders, and the circles under his eyes were less like bruises. He smiled at her, and she almost believed that he was just a 30 year old man.

How did they do that? Act their age, while also being indescribably ancient? Being her friend, while also being like her brother, and her grandma all at once?

“I’ll trade you a story for an onion.” He said. Andy snorted, and Joe choked on his orange slice.

“What?”

“I’m going to make omelettes— chop half an onion and mince some garlic for me, and we can chat about Valletta.”

She smiled, “Deal.”

#joe x nicky #nicky x joe #kaysanova #the old guard fanfiction #the old guard #my writing #continuation of the To be Human series #Nile freeman #im writing but im depressed #hahaha fun

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yamithediaperdork · 4 years ago

Text

Busted, but it’s ok pt 1 (Powerpack story)

If there was anything better then getting the house to yourself on a Friday afternoon, Alex Powers didn't wanna know about it. with it being the summer Julie had taken Katie out for a girl's day, and Jack was hanging out with Franklin Richards over that Baxter building after his morning summer classes. Toss in Mom and Dad still at work and it meant that from 1pm till 5, Alex had the run of the house and was free to do whatever he wanted, after he did his chores. This worked out well for Alex as it went semi hand in hand with what he was planning on doing today anyways, mainly indulge in his love of being a widdle sissy baby. Humming a nursery theme as he stripped, Alex then tugged out a lock box from under his bed and noted with amusement that Jack had been trying to get into it again from the way the combo's were all messed up. "Heh, he'll never learn will he?" he giggled to himself. the lock box was a gift from Mister Parker, who had also included a DNA scan so that Jack could maybe get the numbers right, but if it wasn't Alex thumbing them in, it was useless. Clicking the box open, the young blond sissy rubbed his chin for a second, thinking over his choices. He didn't wanna use the locking panties he had today, there had been a super close call the last time and he'd had to pin himself to the roof for half a hour waiting for his dad to leave so he could go and get the key. The bonnet was also out, while it helped him look cute and he liked it, it was WAY too warm when he was doing chores and he ended up sweating like a pig. In the end he went with a light pink top with puffy shoulders that had a white lace trim on the bottom and on the sleeve, leaving his arms mostly bare for doing dishes and 3 of his princess diapers, noting that he was starting to get low and would have to get Mister Parker to order him some more. (Peter had found out about Alex's little fetish by mistake and had calmed the bawling boy down by offering to help him with it, as long as he was safe and private about it, hence the lock box.) Since he was planing on wetting himself Alex made sure to use a razor and slit slots in two of the diapers then after powdering himself up, he taped them on, making sure that the uncut diaper was on the outside. as a few finishing touches Alex took out a pink pacifier that was on a cord and put it around his neck, and then fished out a purple hair bow and clipped it in his hair before waddling over to the mirror to look at himself, mentally gushing over how bulky his diapies were. "mothers, lock up your sons~" He giggled as he posed in the mirror, striking a few poses and blowing a kiss to himself. He didn't really think about boys a lot despite what he had just said, but the outfit and the diapers had him being a little bit of a silly butt. Half prancing and half waddling, he set upon the first chore of the day, getting all the landry gathered up and starting a load, though he did pause long enough to grab his MP3 player and hooked it on his top, putting the headphones in and turning up the volume.

Jack and Franklin had been having fun, playing around the Baxter building for a hour before they MAYBE let a game of tag get a little bit carried away. Sure technically Mr.Richards lab was off limits but as jack tried to argue, boys will be boys, and he should get a better lock for the door if he wanted to keep them out. That was the argument that Jack had made for the pair, even as Franklin face palmed, apparently knowing it wasn't going to work. "And besides, it's not like that negative zone monster did THAT much damage, you and Mrs. Richards took it down with ease!" Jack finished up. "..I think you need to go home Jack." Was all the seething Reed had said, taking in the wreckage of his lab. "Well about that, my dad isn't suppose to pick me up till fiveish and sooo I'm gonna need a ride ho-" Jack started before Reed yelled at him to leave now. "I'm sorry about this, he gets really cranky about his lab getting wreaked despite it happening ALL the time." Franklin said, walking Jack out of the building. "If Uncle Ben or Johnny were home they'd drive you..as is Mom's gonna be working over time to keep my butt safe." "Eh, it's ok. I'll just remember this the next time he need the help for me." Jack said, all full of swagger. "...when exactly has he ever-" Franklin started to ask, but got cut off. "There's a first time for everything! anyways, good luck dealing with mister grumpy pants. I've got a ton of stupid homework to do anyways, gonna see if I can trick Alex into doing it for me again." Jack said and waved bye. Jack walked the first few blocks on foot, then when he was sure no was was looking he ducked into a alley and used his powers to lighten his mass and fly up into the air, deciding to take the quick way home. 'on the plus side, at least I know Alex will be doing all the chores, He always does when he's left alone, he's gonna make someone a good wife someday' Jack thought and laughed to himself, not knowing how close to the truth he might of been.

With the landry in the dryer, Alex had managed to tidy up his and jack's room, and then Julie and Katie's, taking the time to play with a few of her princess crowns before putting them back. He toyed with cleaning the living room and leaving the curtains open, always a little thrilling but decided to get the chore he least liked finally out of the way and headed for the kitchen inside to get the pile of dishes out of the way. It wasn't hard to tell this was Jack's chore normally as the pile had built up with Jack claiming they needed to 'soak' over and over. 'oh well, at least I'm coming up on the Abra block for my playlist.' Alex thought, starting the water and sorting the dishes out into piles.

Jack landed down in the back yard, no one noticing because of the tree line and resumed his normal mass. "heh, I think I'm getting faster!" he said to himself as he headed for the back door, opening it and walking in. he was about to announce that he was home when he heard a girly voice badly singing a old song and winced. No two ways about it, Alex was cleaning and had reached his Abra section of his play list. "Somebody needs to tell that boy he can NOT sing." Jack said, covering his ears. He almost let Alex just keep singing, it was clear he was in the kitchen and thus likely doing the dishes for Jack and he wasn't the type to look a gift horse in the mouth. Then Alex;s voice broke and he squeaked out the next line and Jack decided it would almost be worth having to finish his own chore if it meant not having to listen to THAT anymore. Coming around the corner and looking into the Kitchen, he was about to shout and get his brothers attention, when he noticed just WHAT Alex was wearing. the sissy top would of been enough to make Jack laugh, but the massive pink and purple diapers really sold it, and really not helping things was the way Alex was shaking his butt back and forth. "You can dance, You can jive, Having the time of your life!" Alex was singing, eyes closed and holding a wooden mixing spoon up like it was a microphone. it would be till he was almost finished the main chorus that he'd opened his eyes. "Ooh, see that girl, Watch that scene, Digging the dancing qu- JACK!" Alex squeaked out. Jack of course couldn't let something like this go by and while the sissy had been singing, eyes closed, and turning around, he'd taken his cell phone out and had started to record. "T-Tell me your not taking pictures!" Alex whimpered, turning crimson in the face and dropping the spoon, tugging uselessly on the hem of his top, in a vain effort to cover the diapers. "Good news. I'm not." jack said, and Alex started to relax. "I'm making a video. wave hi to YouTube." in the silence that followed as Alex let out a soundless shriek, a hissing could be heard as the little sissy wet himself.

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ourloveisforthelovely · 4 years ago

Text

Fresh Start 4

Harry Potter AU

Link to Chapter 3

Pairings: Sirius Black x Reader

Rating: M

______

The following month a half passed without much excitement. Things seemed to be slowly calming down from all of the “pregnancy discovery” news. Molly had made it her personal mission to make sure that she was always available for last-minute babysitting. She knew that you were miserable with morning sickness the morning after you announced that you were expecting. Molly seemed to show up just when you needed her the most!

This morning, in particular, was the first that you felt halfway decent in a while. It was nice waking up and not having to rush to the bathroom. You lay in bed enjoying the warm bedding while listening to the sounds of Sirius and Remus arguing over how to fix Sirius' motorcycle. It took all you had to not go out into the garden and watch the argument at hand. The moment that Remus told Sirius it was time to hang up the whole bad boy vibe and invest in a muggle car colored a lovely shade of beige. You almost lost it. You wished that you could have seen the expression on Sirius' face at that moment.

You smiled when Harry rolled over and looked at you with a sleepy grin. It still made your heartache at just how much he looked like James! Sometimes, if even for a brief moment, you could imagine that your brother was still alive again.

“Mama!”

Harry squealed, happily. You looked down sadly. Harry had been calling Sirius and yourself “mama” and “dada” for a few weeks. Neither of you had the heart to correct him. The poor boy was too young to understand anyway. Harry would understand in time. He would know how wonderful his mother and father were. If the two of you could be remotely the parents that James and Lily were...you would be thrilled.

“Not sleepy anymore?”

You asked, pulling yourself from your thoughts as Harry giggled. Sirius had put the boy into bed between the two of you the previous night when Harry decided it was time to wake at four am. The two of you were trying to keep Harry in his own room at night but it wasn't working.

“No.”

Harry squealed as you stood up. You quickly dressed before picking the boy up and heading downstairs.

“I think someone is ready for food.”

Harry nodded eagerly and pointed to his mouth.

(Meanwhile)

Remus sat watching Sirius' eyes as he tried to figure out what was going on with his bike.

“You know, there are muggles who fix these sort of things.”

Sirius looked up with an annoyed scowl.

“And let someone else touch her? I think not.”

Remus grinned. That was just the reply that he was looking for. Over the past few weeks, Sirius had been a bit “tense.” Remus was no fool as to why either.

“How is Y/n feeling?”

Sirius leaned back.

“The past two days have been better. She isn't spending all morning throwing up. That has been nice. I think she is a bit tired of me asking if she wants some water. Lucky for us, Molly Weasley turns up like some kind of fairy godmother with stuff to make Y/n feel better and less...mean.”

Remus started laughing.

“She isn't mean.”

Sirius nodded.

“Well, she isn't blaming you for knocking her up. I think this week alone she has told me this is all my fault at least 6 times before she starts crying on me. I just stand there blinking like an idiot.”

Remus had seen you burst into tears a few times of trivial things and had handled it like a champ. That was just Remus Lupin though. He always was able to handle emotional people. He had a feeling that he was about to be needed to handle his emotional friend very soon!

“Don't worry, Sirius. You'll have your normal wife back in 28 weeks.”

Sirius' mouth dropped.

“28 weeks? I have to wait that long?

Remus had to fight back his laughter at the lost and almost desperate expression on Sirius' face.

“It won't seem that long. Do you know what you want yet? Boy or girl?”

Sirius shook his head.

“I don't care. As long as Y/n and the baby are healthy...that is all that I care about.”

“You know if the baby is a girl then you will have to deal with teenage boys one day. I don't think that you will have to think too hard on how we were as teenage boys...”

Sirius' whole face went pale and his eyes widened as he dropped the tool that he was holding. He thought about how awful he was and winced!

“Oh hell!”

Sirius wasn't sure what Remus was talking about. Remus was fine as a teenage boy! He was that perfect boy that every man hoped his daughter would drag home. Sirius on the other hand...well...he was lucky that Fleamont Potter even let him within 12 feet of you!

“This kind of makes me wish that Mr. Potter was alive so I could call him and apologize for having sex with his daughter. All I can say is bless that poor boy that turns up on my doorstep.”

Remus leaned back in his chair with a smile. It was clearly evident that Sirius hadn't even thought about this yet. Remus already felt sorry for the poor baby already if it was a girl. Between Sirius and having a werewolf for a godfather, the poor thing didn't stand a chance in the dating world!

“Lucky for you that is still many years away.”

Sirius rolled his eyes and tried to get back to what he was doing.

“Too soon for my liking.”

He muttered.

(meanwhile)

You stood in the kitchen as Harry eagerly shoved baby oatmeal in his mouth. He eagerly offered you a banana several times. The sound of the doorbell ringing quickly pulled you from your thoughts. You didn't expect any visitors that morning. Opening the door, you froze seeing none other than Walburga Black on the other side. You stood looking at her for a few moments as if making sure your mind wasn't playing games on you.

“Excuse me, are you lost?”

You asked after a few quiet moments. Walburga didn't smile nor did she show any emotion.

“No, I know exactly where I am Y/n Potter.”

You frowned, feeling a cold chill come over you. For years you had dreamed of punching this woman in the face!

“Y/n Black. You do know whose house this is,yeah?”

Walburga blinked a few times when you corrected her. Regulus didn’t tell her about that detail.

“To the same man whose name you have now.”

You had to bite your tongue and repeat I’m a better person over and over in your mind.

“You're perceptive. So, what did we do to win the pleasure of your company?”

It still amazed you how a person could be totally sarcastic to Walburga and it went right over her head! Maybe the lady had no idea what sarcasm was?

“Are you going to invite me in? We are letting flies inside.”

You blinked. The last thing that you really wanted to happen was for Sirius to see his mother. It seemed, however, that you really had no choice. It was probably best to go ahead and get this over with.

“Won't you come…”

“I would love to.”

Walburga interrupted before walking right past you.

“Merlin, I am going to set this bitch on fire.”

You followed Walburga into the kitchen as she sat down at the table. Her cold eyes immediately went to Harry.

“It appears that you were further along than what Regulus believed. This child, however, looks nothing like my son.”

You snorted.

“Well, because he isn’t.”

Walburga’s mouth dropped. Has she heard your corrections? Were you out screwing around on Sirius? Walburga wasn’t surprised. This was just another example as to why you weren’t good enough!

“Excuse me?”

You wanted to laugh at the expression on her haughty face.

“This is my nephew, Harry. We have custody of him. I, however, am pregnant...if you can’t tell.”

Walburga looked relieved as she looked at the slight curve of your stomach.

“I see. I guess it was a bit too difficult for the two of you to inform Orion and myself.”

You frowned.

“Why would it matter to the lot of you? As I remember you disowned your son and my parents took him in.”

“This is our first grandchild.”

You stood to start washing dishes before you hexed the woman.

“He or she will not be practicing dark arts. Sirius has already said no to all of that rubbish.”

You quickly started washing a plate so hard the poor thing snapped. Walburga, meanwhile, sat watching you with a glare.

“What are you doing?”

“When I’m not busy being a wonderful wife I like to fulfill my duties as a domestic goddess.”

Walburga raised an eyebrow.

“Is Sirius too cheap to buy you an elf for these menial chores?”

You put the broken plate down before you threw it. Just who the hell did this woman think she was? You were ready to turn around and start yelling. The sensible side of your brain told you to stop.

“She can’t help it. She’s rich and doesn’t know any better.”

The other side of your brain, however, said.

“Time to smack the bitch!”

“No, he isn’t! I just like to use this handy dandy sponge and the cleaner I made. It takes real skill!”

The sound of the garden door shutting pulled you from your thoughts. You could recognize Sirius’ steps from anywhere. This was about to get ugly!

“Excuse me.”

You said before stepping out of the room. Sirius looked up at you with a playful smirk that said he had one thing on his mind. Before you could say anything, he had you against the wall. You sighed as his mouth closed on your neck. He was going to leave another love bite for his mother to look at.

“Is Harry asleep?”

You shook your head.

“Where’s Remus?”

Sirius chuckled.

“Outside trying to prove me wrong that he's the better mechanic. If you feel up to it, we have time for a quickie.”

As lovely as the idea sounded, you didn’t want Walburga sitting on the other side of the wall listening to the two of you screw each other.

“That sounds lovely but we have a problem.”

Sirius didn’t look up right away.

“Morning sickness?”

You swallowed.

“Hardley. Your mum is here.”

Sirius laughed. That was hilarious! He wasn’t for sure what kind of joke that was but it wasn’t funny.

“I’m not kidding, Sirius! She’s in the kitchen.”

Sirius stood up straight. The happy smile had vanished. Now he reminded you of the boy that you saw every school year at the end of the term. He was the boy that didn't want to go home and was sick the whole time.

“What the hell is she doing here?”

You shrugged.

“She heard about our happy news.”

Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Fucking beautiful.”

He gently let you go before turning and walking into the kitchen. Sure enough, his mother sat at the table looking around with a scowl on her face. Her cold eyes narrowed on him.

“Well, there you are. Your wife is...pleasant.”

Sirius didn’t smile. In fact, he wanted to show zero emotion to anything that Walburga had to say. Maybe if he acted like a robot, she would leave and never return. The past four years without his mum in his life had been wonderful!

“Yeah, she is. What are you doing here?”

Walburga raised an eyebrow.

“No, it's good to see you mum?”

Sirius shook his head.

“No. You haven’t been my mum in four years. Don’t you remember? You kicked me out of the family. I never got to thank you for it. These past four years without the cult has been lovely.”

Sirius was thrilled when Walburga’s cocky smile faded. She quickly resembled the horrible woman who made his life a living hell.

“I don’t think this is a laughing matter, Sirius. I heard that Y/n was pregnant. With this being my first grandchild…”

Sirius held a hand up.

“Hold on! You aren’t allowed around my child.”

“Excuse me?”

Walburga snapped. You, meanwhile, stood watching the two trying to decide who you could drag out.

As if by a prayer, Remus walked in. He froze, staring at the unfolding scene. This was the last thing that Remus ever expected to see! He quickly looked at you, silently assessing if you needed him to step in.

“You heard me. None of you will ever see the kid. I forbid it! Furthermore, how the hell did you find out?”

Walburga shrugged in a little sassier than needed.

“Your brother.”

Sirius glanced at you before looking back at his mother.

“Well, the two of you can just take your so-called good feelings and shove them up your ass. Just get out of here and haunt someone else.”

“Sirius.”

He looked to Remus, who was motioning him forward. Sirius didn’t wait for Walburga to make a comment before turning and storming up the stairs.

You had walked into the kitchen to pick up Harry when the hard rock music started blaring. It took all you had not to smirk. Sirius hadn’t forgotten how to get under his mother’s skin and he wasn’t about to let this moment pass. You slowly turned to your mother in law.

“It's been so kind of you to visit.”

Walburga stormed out of the house in a huff. Remus, meanwhile, walked over.

“I’ll take Harry. You go deal with him.”

You took a breath before walking up the stairs and into your bedroom. Sirius sat on the window seat and was glaring outside. You walked over and wrapped your arms around him from behind.

“Sweetheart…”

“How did Regulus know?”

Sirius asked, coldly. You tensed against him.

“I ran into him before you came home from that job...he kinda….”

Sirius quickly cut you off. “Wait a minute! You told him that you were pregnant before you fucking told me...the father of the kid?”

Sirius quickly stood up; almost tripping you in the process.

“Sirius, he kinda figured it out. I almost threw up on his fancy shoes.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. This was the last thing that he wanted to think about. Regulus could have easily hurt you. Granted, you could have easily hurt him too. It would have been a touch more difficult with Harry in one arm.

“He’s a git.”

You suddenly remembered the awkward conversation with Regulus.

“Somethings going on with him, Sirius.”

“He’s an idiot.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Not what I meant. He seemed off. He was making weird comments about how nothing either side does will make matters...it was just weird. He wasn't death eater Regulus. I wonder if he pissed someone off and is in danger.”

Sirius shrugged, seeming to not care less.

“Play stupid games. Win stupid prizes.”

Sirius didn’t meet your annoyed gaze.

“You don’t care about your little brother at all?”

Sirius shook his head.

“I’m not in that family anymore, remember? So why are you just now telling me about this?”

“Maybe I forgot, you know, with this whole being pregnant, taking care of Harry, and playing new wife thing?”

Sirius sighed.

“I’m sorry...look I’m going out for a bit.”

The last time that he said this, Sirius came home wasted with a bunch of women’s phone numbers shoved in his pockets. Sirius seemed to pick up on your thoughts. He quickly walked over and tilted your face to his.

Sirius felt beyond guilty at the moment. He didn’t mean to make you feel this way again.

“I’m not that guy anymore. I’m taking Remus with me. I just need some time to process this day”

You nodded and went to sit down on the bed. Sirius stood looking at you obviously feeling guilty.

“I can stay, love.”

You shook your head.

“Just go. I need to get Harry down for a nap anyway.”

_____

@cardboardbenmazzello

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@hankypranky

@summer-novak

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@knight-of-gleefulness

#Harry Potter #Harry Potter AU #Sirius Black #Sirius Black x Reader #Reader x Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #James Potter #Lily Evans #regulus black #walburga black #orion black #Ben Barnes as Sirius Black #harry potter fan fiction #molly weasley #Fresh Start #Fresh Start update

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starshine583 · 5 years ago

Text

Le Paon Part 4

(Here’s another part of the Le Paon AU! Tell me what you think and if you want more!)

Part 1 / Part 3 / Part 5

Felix didn’t bother hiding his scowl as he marched straight to his father’s office. Sitting in a room with nothing but the monotone voice of underpaid teachers blandly explaining things he’d mastered at the age of five gave him plenty of time to stew about the events of today’s akuma.

Adrien, smartly, didn’t question his intentions, instead quietly shuffling for the stairs.

Nathalie, foolishly, stood in front of the door, arching her brow.

“You’re father’s busy right now, Fe-”

“Can it, Sancoeur. I’m not in the mood.” He grit, pushing right past her and ripping the door open.

Gabriel stared down at his computer screen, unblinking, no doubt sketching another design that would look to be inspired from a trash bin.

Felix curled his hands into fists. The man didn’t so much as glance his way! Did he even care about what happened?

“What was that!” He yelled.

Gabriel looked at him then, a sharpness in his eyes that made Felix falter for only a moment.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

Felix rolled his eyes with a scoff. “Adrien’s out of range so drop it. You nearly killed at least half a dozen people today, me included!”

Gabriel sighed- as if he was the one being outrageous! “I can’t predict where the akumas rampage. If you’re so distressed about it, though, I’ll try to steer them clear of you next time.”

“Forget about the akuma getting to the school!” As annoying as that was. “We almost killed people today!”

As far as he knew, they probably did kill somebody. “I thought this was supposed to be about the miraculous.”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes. “It is, but sacrifices must be made, Felix.”

Felix opened his mouth to argue, but Gabriel held up his hand to silence him.

“When we get the Ladybug miraculous, everything will be fixed. In the meantime, Ladybug has her ‘miraculous cure’,” A smirk- unsettling, at that -crossed his lips as he gestured to Felix’s chest, “As you’ve seen today.”

Felix tensed, his hand instinctively coming up to touch the previously healed injury from the fight. “How did you..”

“I see what my akuma sees. I knew everything that happens during the battle.” Something in his tone sounded sinister to Felix. He couldn’t decide if the statement was a threat or simply new information.

“What about Adrien?” He asked next. His little brother might be a bit more naive, but he wasn’t stupid. They couldn’t keep this a secret from him forever. What happened if he found out first? What would he assume? What would he do?

“He will know when the time is right.” Gabriel answered, turning back to his screen. “Now go finish your homework before your brother gets suspicious.”

Felix bit back a snarky response, spinning on his heel and leaving as told. He made sure to send Nathalie an overly cold glare on his way out, which she returned with an ever-so-faint smirk. Gosh, he couldn’t stand that woman, acting so high and mighty simply because she worked for Gabriel Agreste when in reality she was only a brainless- and infatuated, apparently -puppet who scrambled after his every word. Disgusting.

He opened his bedroom door, and a flash of black zipped by. Felix blinked, reaching up to rub his eyes. Did the lights just black out for a second? Or was he seeing things now? This better not be a miraculous effect.

“Oh, hey, Fe. Done with Father already?” Adrien asked, taking Felix from his thoughts.

“I only had a few questions to ask him.” He replied, hanging up his bag and turned slightly, just enough for Adrien not to notice Duusu flying into his vest pocket.

“Huh. I thought you’d take longer than that. You looked pretty mad.”

Felix shrugged, passing the room to lounge on the couch.

He rolled his eyes when he caught a glimpse of Adrien’s computer screen. “You’re reading that tabloid?”

Adrien swiveled around in his wheely-chair, clicking the “minus” button on the Ladyblog. “It’s not a tabloid, Felix. All information on the Ladyblog is fact checked and straight from the heroes.”

Felix scoffed, settling on the couch with his book. As if any reporter would ever be that genuine. People who went into that business were nothing more than talent-less idiots desperate for a scrap of fame.

“Come on, you don’t want to know about Paris’ heroes?”

“No.” He knew enough about them already, like the fact that Ladybug’s insecure despite being more than capable of her job, and that she probably hated his guts after what he did that morning.

Adrien sighed and turned back to his computer screen. “Well, I think they’re cool. Sucks that the Le Paon guy turned out to be a jerk.”

Felix sat up at that, nearly dropping his book on the floor. “What did you say?”

“Oh, you’re interested now?” Adrien retorted, rolling back to show him the computer.

An image of his alter ego clearly kicking Ladybug in the chest resided on the screen, and Felix winced. Adrien kept scrolling, revealing picture after picture of their fight. Who took these? How did he not notice a random citizen taking his photo?

The horrifying collection ended with a video of Alya Cessaire talking with none other than the citizen he saved from The Constructor’s wrecking ball.

~Yeah, I guess he saved me, but who’s to say he wasn’t the reason I was in danger in the first place?~

Note to self: Maybe we should just let the civilians fend for themselves. Felix thought bitterly, though he knew they had a point. It’s hard to appreciate someone saving you when that someone is also the cause of your peril.

“I heard he even tricked Ladybug into thinking he was a hero before trying to take her miraculous. How can someone be so cruel?” Adrien said, shaking his head.

“Well, neither of us were there.” Felix found himself saying. “Maybe we don’t have the whole story.”

Like their mother currently laying underneath their mansion in an incurable coma, and the possibility of her being saved if the two miraculous were brought together.

Adrien furrowed his eyebrows. “Fe, he lured her into a false sense of trust for his own personal gain. Only a villain would do something like that.”

You don’t have to remind me. He mentally groaned. The way Adrien talked made Le Paon sound like some sort of monster. Maybe he was.

“I suppose.”

“Hey, what’s up with you today?” Adrien frowned. “You’re normally the ‘logical’ one here.”

Felix pulled a small smile. “I’ve been preoccupied is all, adjusting to school life and all of that.”

Adrien hummed. “I guess that makes sense. Anyway, since you’re in a talking mood, what do you think about Chat Noir? He’s pretty awesome isn’t he?”

Felix tisked, rubbing his side. He remembered the blonde’s staff more than the hero himself. “A good fighter, I’ll give him that, but he’s also reckless. He doesn’t think things through when he attacks.”

Adrien sputtered, obviously trying to find an argument for the statement.

“I- you -I thought you said you didn’t pay attention to the heroes.” He finally replied with crossed arms. Why did he look so offended?

“I don’t. It’s just an observation.” Felix stated, picking up his book to resume reading.

“Whatever.” Adrien grumbled, turning back to the computer.

Felix rose a brow, but didn’t bother questioning the shift in mood. Adrien was the one that asked about his opinion. If he didn’t like it, then that was his problem.

~~~~~~

“Did you guys see the pictures?” Claude asked eagerly, throwing his bag on the desk.

Felix sighed and closed his book. There was no point in trying to read when Claude started one of his stories.

“The pictures on the Ladyblog?” Allan guessed.

“Yeah! Credit to the awesome cameraman, of course.” The brunette grinned, straightening with pride.

“Claude, are you sure you should be that close to the fight? Someone almost got crushed yesterday.” Allegra frowned as she sat down next to Allan.

Claude scoffed and waved his hand. “That’s what makes it interesting. Besides, I can’t let Alya down. Who else could get those awesome camera angles?”

“Well, there’s-”

“No one. That’s who.” Claude interrupted, placing his hands on his hips.

Felix rolled his eyes. “Was there a point to this conversation?”

“Oh, yeah. Did you hear about Le Paon yesterday? What a jerk!”

Felix resisted the urge to face palm. He should have known better than to ask.

“I watched the video, but I didn’t understand what happened. They say the blue guy from yesterday was a villain?” Allan asked.

“Le Paon and yes, he’s a villain working with Hawkmoth. Rumor has it that Ladybug thought he was a hero at first. Can you believe that? Tricking someone into believing you’re good just to literally kick them down? Even Felix isn’t that heartless!” Claude huffed.

Thank goodness the others were too invested in Claude to see Felix twitch. He couldn’t get a break could he? I mean, he deserved every word, but that didn’t make it any less aggravating. Was everyone going to remind him of his rash decisions this week?

Allegra hummed, setting her chin on the back of her hand with an amused smile. “Someone more heartless than Felix? That is interesting. Maybe you should make a blog about Le Paon instead.”

“As if. A blog about Le Paon would never be popular.” Claude replied matter-of-factly.

Allegra narrowed her eyes. “And how would you know?”

“Um, do you see any Le Paon blogs? Have you heard of any?” Claude continued before she could answer. “No. No, you haven’t. Case in point.”

“Maybe no one’s thought of it yet?” Allan spoke up.

Claude threw him a light-hearted glare. “Don’t side with her.”

Felix, for once, nodded in agreement. Alya and Claude were bad enough without Allegra and whoever she’d drag along on the scene. It was just more people to save and keep out of trouble, more distractions to keep him from Ladybug and Chat Noir.

“You know what, Claude? You’re on. I accept your challenge.” Allegra decided.

“What?” Felix and Claude asked in unison. Challenge? What challenge? Nobody initiated a challenge!

“I’m gonna make a blog for Le Paon, and you’re gonna sit there and watch the views skyrocket.” She stated, a determined gleam coming to her eyes.

Felix sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. How did he not see this coming? It’s only his luck that these three would inconvenience him in both his civilian and his miraculous life.

“That takes a lot of work, you know. You have to set up the account, find someone for the footage, work out names and contacts. Not to mention listing all of the sources..” He listed off, hoping to dissuade her.

Unfortunately, his words only fanned the flames.

“Oh, so you’re doubting me too?” She asked, raising a brow.

“I simply-”

“No, I understand.” Allegra cut him off. “You guys don’t think I can make Le Paon a hit because he had a bad first impression.”

“I didn’t say that.” Allan said, somewhat sheepishly.

The blonde smiled, leaning forward to pat him on the head. “I know you didn’t. You’re safe.”

Allan blew out a sigh of relief and went back to his music.

“Anyway, I’ll be waiting for an apology when my blog drives Claude’s into the ground.”

Felix rolled his eyes. So this was really happening. Wonderful. Perhaps Father could persuade some of the akumas to give the reporters a free pass?

Claude scoffed. “Oh- oh, I see how it is. I was just gonna let you do whatever, but fine. May the best blogger win.”

Allegra stood, narrowing her eyes with determination. “Don’t worry. I will.”

~~~~~~

Marinette stared down at the screen, a frown tugging at the corner of her lips. What’s the nicest way to say “No” to someone?

“I don’t know, Allegra..”

“Come on, Nette, please.” The blonde pleaded. “Alya has a cameraman for her blog, and I need to out-do her.”

“Why me?” Seriously, why did it have to be her? Why not Allan? Or Felix? Or anyone else who didn’t have a miraculous and a crucial responsibility to protect Paris.

“You’re an artist, which means you have an eye for the best angles and such.” Allegra explained.

“I’m not that kind of artist.” Marinette sighed. “What about Nathaniel?”

You know, someone who actually knows a thing or two about angles?

“He’s too scared to run into the action with me. You’re the only one I’ve seen run towards an akuma fight aside from Alya and Claude!”

Marinette grimaced under Allegra’s puppy-like gaze. There was a reason she ran into those fights! A very important reason that couldn’t be pushed to the side because of something Claude said earlier!

Her eyes flicked to the phone again, looking over the blue and purple-themed blog that had “Birds of a Feather” at the top. Honestly, why would Allegra even want to make a blog about Le Paon? He’s nothing but a manipulative liar who only cares about himself.

Allegra waited patiently for her reply, though Marinette knew she wasn’t going to back down if her answer was “no”. If anything, she’d either continue to bug her or find another cameraman to get herself killed with.

“I’ll think about it.” She finally relented, ignoring the thump of her purse against her leg. At the very least, she might be able to steer Allegra out of the akuma’s grasp.

Allegra grinned and threw her arms around Marinette. “Thanks a ton! You won’t regret it, promise!”

Marinette chuckled, hugging Allegra back. Tikki’s lecture was already playing through her mind. “You shouldn’t put yourself in complicated situations like this. You’re responsibility as Ladybug always needs to come first. At worst, you lied to your friend about being able to make time for her.”

In her defense, it’s not like she could just decline. Everyone knows that when Allegra’s mind is set, there’s no changing it. If she wanted Marinette to be her camerawoman, then that’s what was going to happen, whether it took Allegra constantly asking or “conveniently” finding her during akuma fights and throwing her the phone. That could jeopardize her secret identity. So, when you think about it, she had to help Allegra.

At least, that’s what Marinette told herself during the walk home.

“Marinette, You forgot to do the dishes last night.” Her mother commented as she opened the front door to the bakery.

Marinette winced. “Ah, sorry Maman. I’ll go do them now.”

Sabine gave her a fond smile and nodded. “There’s a bowl of fruit on the dining room table to snack on while you work on your homework afterwards.”

Marinette kissed her on the cheek with a “thanks!” and headed upstairs. She’d start on the dishes as soon as she let Tikki out of her bag in her room.

Pushing open her trap door, Marinette gently set her bag to the side and climbed the ladder. Tikki flew out of the unzipped top, fixing her with a displeased look as she pulled out her laptop.

“Marinette, you know better than to make promises you can’t keep.” The small, god-like being began, exactly as she had predicted.

“I know, I know, but what was I supposed to do? She wasn’t going to stop asking, and at least this way, I can keep an eye on her.” Marinette said, repeating the argument she’d prepared earlier.

Tikki sighed, zipping over to the plate of cookies on her desk. “But how are you going to manage recording the akumas and fighting them?”

Marinette bit her lip. “I.. I’m sure I’ll figure something out.”

She opened her laptop and searched for Allegra’s blog again. Because of her internal freak out during the blonde’s request, she hadn’t been able to read the few posts Allegra made. It was a hope that she would have something useful on the mysterious villain.

How did she have time to make this? Marinette thought as she scrolled through the web page. Didn’t she say the argument took place that morning? “Birds of a Feather” already had a theme, introduction, and several pictures- albeit a bit blurry -from the news reports. Unfortunately, the blog didn’t have any new information for her.

“Marinette, you should do the dishes before you forget.” Tikki advised, munching on her second cookie.

Marinette, knowing she was right, sighed and stood up, leaving the computer on. She could always read through the blog later. Dishes shouldn’t take more than twenty minutes, anyway.

She walked back downstairs and turned on the faucet. While the water filled the sink, the dirty dishes were piled on the counter, and a clean space was made for the freshly washed ones. The purple dishrag twisted easily in her hands, letting the soap bubbles run over her fingers.

Bells chimed faintly below, and Marinette pictured the customer that might be walking in. Maybe a young woman looking for sweets for her daughter’s bake sale. Or perhaps an esteemed gentlemen in need of a caterer to really sell his newest ideas at a business meeting. It might even be a little kid who’d wandered into the store.

“I’d like two batches of truffles, please.”

Marinette stopped short when a familiar voice echoed softly through the vents.

“Of course! Anything else?” Her mother asked politely.

“No, that’ll be all, thank you.”

Her dish slipped back into the sink. Was that.. Felix? That couldn’t be him, right? She couldn’t sworn Adrien mentioned his distaste for sweets the other day.

Marinette swiftly washed and dried her soapy hands. Maman shouldn’t mind a small interruption as long as she finished the dishes at some point.

~~~~~~

Felix grumbled under his breath as he felt the car roll to a stop in front of the bakery. He thought that platter of truffles would last Duusu about a week, but she ate them all in one night! How could something so small eat so much?

A soft bell chime greeted him as he pushed open the glass door, and the smell of freshly baked croissants prompted him to take a deep breath.

“Can I help you?”

A small, Asian woman stood at the cash register, offering him a smile that seemed vaguely familiar.

“I’d like two batches of truffles, please.” He requested.

She nodded, her short, raven hair bouncing with the notion. It reminded him of two pairs of pigtails, one from a spotted heroine and one from a scatter-brained classmate.

“Of course! Anything else?”

“No, that’ll be all, thank you.”

The woman took his credit card for the payment and gave him the receipt. She then crossed the shop to a certain glass case and put his truffles in a bag.

“Felix?”

Felix spun around, surprised to find bluebell eyes staring at him.

Speaking of scatterbrained classmates.

“Marinette? What are you doing here?”

“It’s.. uhm.. It’s my parents bakery.” She replied, gesturing to the white words ingrained in the glass of the Cashier’s counter.

D-C Boulangerie Patisserie

D-C.

Dupain-Cheng.

Felix face palmed. “Ah. Of course.”

Marinette giggled and closed the gap between them, choosing to lean on the counter as she asked, “What brings you here? I thought you didn’t like sweets.”

Felix ran a hand through his hair, mind suddenly blank. Why did he come here again?

A small shift in his pocket reminded him, but he couldn’t tell her about that little secret.

“Adrien likes sweets, and the personal chef took the day off for some family emergency.” A half truth. Both statements were accurate, though neither were the reason for his visit.

“Gotcha. Hope everything’s alright with the chef’s family.”

He nodded, hiding his surprise by glancing at her mother again. (The relationship between the two explained the similar hair and smile.) To be honest, Felix hadn’t thought much about the chef’s situation. He just knew that they were gone, and it was inconvenient.

Mrs. Dupain-Cheng picked that moment to approach them, bag in hand.

“You two know each other?” She inquired, an odd sparkle coming to her almond eyes.

“Maman, this is Felix. He just started attending our school last week. Felix, this is Sabine, my mom.” Marinette introduced, gesturing between them as she spoke.

Felix extended his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng.”

Sabine scoffed, taking his hand with both of hers. “Oh no, dear, call me ‘Sabine’. There’s no need to be so formal.”

He returned her soft smile and nodded. It was amazing, honestly. He’d thought Marinette was the only one who could be so warm and inviting, but this entire family screamed “welcome home”. Then again, he supposed she had to learn it somewhere.

“Oh! Marinette, why don’t you show him upstairs? I’m sure he’d love a tour.”

Felix tensed. A tour? Of what?

“Uh.. sure, but does Felix have time for that?” Marinette asked, sparing him a glance.

The concern was reasonable. Adrien’s schedules were usually packed with lessons and photo shoots and other things Father assumed he needed. Felix, however, had the convenience of being on the business end of the company, meaning he didn’t have to model for their products. It gave him far more free time.

“My schedule is clear for the time being. What are we touring?”

Duusu could wait for his truffles a little longer. Right now he wanted to indulge on the opportunity to see what exactly made the Dupain-Cheng household so open and relaxing.

Marinette perked up. “Just the house. I mean, you can see the big kitchen too, if you want.”

“I think I’ll save it for later.” He replied, a smirk crossing his lips.

She put a hand to her mouth as she chuckled and spun on her heel. “It’s right up the stairs.”

He followed her up the blue staircase, sliding his hand along the banner as he went. The layout reminded him of an apartment building, with the cracked, wooden floors and old carpet rolled out in the hallway.

Marinette stopped in front of a lone door and easily pushed it open. Felix walked in after her, stepping into another small hallway that led to a decent sized kitchen and family room.

“This is our place. It’s sort of small, but I like to think of it as ‘cozy’.” Marinette said, stopping at the stairs just inside the house.

Felix hummed, taking in the environment. A cream colored couch resided on the far left side of the room, with a tv sitting across from it and a small, white coffee table in between. Their kitchen was to the right, mostly counters with a few bar stools to create a useful table when necessary. The many windows shed light on it all, making him wonder how dark it must be at night.

Next, she brought him up the other set of stairs to a trapdoor. A bit unusual, but Marinette didn’t seem to bat an eye as she threw it open and climbed inside.

The first minutes in the room were spent letting his eyes adjust. If he thought the living room below was bright, then this attic had to be the sun itself. Not to mention everything and anything was all one color: pink.

“And this is my room.” Marinette announced, walking over to the desk that was tucked between a ladder and the crawl space above.

I can’t imagine it looking any different. Felix thought to himself. Her desk was cluttered with papers and pictures, some of her family, some of her friends, none of him. (Why that bothered Felix, he didn’t know.) Her vanity had a few trinkets on it- a semi-circle shaped box with a notebook inside, a brush, and a round bottle of perfume. A large chaise sat to the right of the room, next to a black, full-length mirror. Lastly, there was a mannequin that stood next to the mirror, wearing an interesting choice of clothing.

“Did you make this?” He found himself asking, feeling the fabric of the pink, fluffed out dress. It’s a design he’d seen yet, and Felix prided himself in memorizing the popular fashions around Paris, Agreste brand included, of course.

“That?” Marinette replied, coming to stand next to him. “It’s just something I’ve been playing with, but yeah, I made it.”

Playing with? The dress was obviously hand-sewn, but in a masterful, refined way. She’d practiced- no, perfected -this craft. The ruffles that started from the waist down were swept over each other like rose petals, soft and delicate. Two butterflies were sewn into the side, almost like ribbons. Each pattern was carefully aligned, spreading black flowers across the pink fabric. Not a single stitch looked to be out of place. This wasn’t something she was “playing with”. This was-

“Amazing.” He muttered. “This is incredible work, Marinette.”

A blush bloomed across her cheeks. “What? No, no- I mean, it’s not even finished yet.”

“Nonsense. This dress is better than most of the atrocities people try to present to my Father.” He insisted.

Her blush deepened, and Felix couldn’t help smiling at it.

“Do you have any more of these?”

Marinette furrowed her eyebrows. “More of the dress?”

“More of your designs.” He elaborated, straightening to look at her desk full of papers. “I’m sure Father would love to see them.”

“Your- the Agreste?- I mean, Monsieur Agreste? He’s gonna- my designs?” She sputtered, putting her arms around her face in an odd, box-like position.

Felix laughed. “If you don’t mind.”

Marinette whimpered- he hoped out of nervousness. It wouldn’t be a good first impression in her home to make her uncomfortable.

“No- uh- It’s just.. What if he- he doesn’t.. Like it?” She asked, fiddling with her pigtails.

“Impossible.” He scoffed. “This dress alone proves how much raw talent you have, and it’s not even finished. If my Father doesn’t see that, then he might as well close his business right now.”

Felix put a hand on her shoulder. “Marinette, You are unbelievably brilliant. Don’t cut yourself short.”

A bashful smile spread across her lips, but she nodded. “O-Okay. Let me find some that are finished though!”

His hand slipped off her shoulder as she scrambled off to her closet. He followed, ignoring the strange feeling of disappointment at the loss of touch.

Clothes were thrown this way and that as she searched through the outfits, deciding which one to give him. A small pile had grown in the corner of the room by the time she finally found a suitable arrangement. Two, to be exact.

“These are the ones I like best. I have the original sketches for them in a drawer, if you want those too.” She offered, handing him the outfits.

“That would splendid, thank you.”

Marinette crossed the room again, giving him time to inspect the other creations she’d given him. The first was a white, turtle-necked crop top with a pink jacket and black, ripped up jeans. The other was another dress- this time light blue -that was, in a word, frilly. Nevertheless, the material was just as impressive as the outfit on the mannequin.

“Here are the sketches. If you need anything else..” She trailed off.

Felix took the sketches with a nod. “That’ll do perfectly.”

~~~~~~

Tikki quietly watched Felix and Marinette interact from the safety of Marinette’s bed. He’d never see her up there, and if he did, he would most likely assume she’s a toy.

Her eyes narrowed when the blonde put a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. Something about him seemed.. Off. She couldn’t put her finger on it. There was a certain feeling about him that made her suspicious. What were his motives? Why was he there?

Marinette seemed happy talking to him, blushing and stuttering from his proposal. It was a sweet thing to do, really. Vouching for the ravenette’s designs would certainly help her career.

...but there was still that feeling!

Tikki huffed, zipping down to hide behind Marinette’s computer. The closer she got to him, the stronger the feeling became. Yes, she’d felt this before. It was unique. But where? Why did it bother her?

Marinette walked over to her drawers while Felix studied the clothes she’d given him moments before. It gave Tikki the cover she needed to sneak over to the chaise. Sitting so close to the boy now, the feeling seemed to overwhelm her- a sensation rippling through her entire body. It wasn’t unsettling, though. It was.. Familiar.

Duusu.

“Here are the sketches. If you need anything else..” Marinette’s muffled voice trailed off, and Tikki peeked around the chaise just in time to see Felix take some papers from her.

“That’ll do perfectly.”

Tikki frowned. Why would Felix have Duusu? Didn’t Marinette say he was the boy that taught her painting? He was just a high school student. How did he even find a miraculous?

A buzzing interrupted them, and Felix pulled out his phone.

“Ah. I’m sorry to say I must be going. Father wants me home for homework and violin lessons.”

“You play violin?” Marinette inquired, clearly awed by the fact.

Felix smiled- a smile much too soft for one of Paris’ most wanted. “I do. It’s another talent he thought I should have.”

“Will you.. Do you think you can play for me some time? If it’s not too much trouble, that is.”

Tikki couldn’t help chuckling at her chosen, always so sweet and thoughtful.

The boy’s smile faded, but he didn’t show any contempt either. He looked more of.. Grieved.

“I’ll have to think about it.”

“Of course, I completely understand.” Marinette replied, obviously picking up on his shift in mood as well. “See you tomorrow?”

His expression softened again, and he nodded. “See you tomorrow.”

Tikki followed the blonde out of her room- as he insisted he remembered the way back- and made sure to stay well hidden. Marinette had a habit of letting her out of her bag when she thought no one was around. Maybe this boy did the same for Duusu.

Sure enough, when Felix stepped out into the hallway, He took one of the truffles he’d purchased and stuffed it in his vest pocket. Someone who wore designer clothing wouldn’t put chocolate in their pockets so casually.

A few seconds later, a small voice piped up. “Mm, these are delicious! So much better than the bland ones your chef made!”

Tikki barely held back a gasp. She’d recognize that energetic voice anywhere.

“Hush, Duusu. Wait until we’re at home to talk, remember?” Felix scolded in a whisper, shooting his vest a disapproving look.

“Of course! I’m sorry.” Duusu apologized.

“It’s fine, just wait till later.”

Tikki frowned. The character Felix had shown so far was nothing but respectful, solemn, and kind. None of those traits were usually found in a villain. So why would he help Hawkmoth? Why betray Ladybug’s trust and choose to fight for the wrong side?

“Oh, there you are, Tikki! Where did you go?” Marinette asked when she flew back to the room.

“Just checking something.” Tikki answered, going back to her plate of cookies. She didn’t want to tell Marinette about Duusu yet, not until she spoke to the Master. He would know what to do about all of this.

“Oh.. okay.” Her chosen shrugged. “Well, did you see Felix? Did you hear us talking?”

“I did, and I’m excited for you!” Despite her concerns about Le Paon, the boy was promising a future for Marinette’s dream career. That was something she could support for the time being.

Marinette squealed, falling onto her chaise in a puddle of pure bliss. “I’m excited too, Tikki! He was so sweet and- oh, he liked my designs! He said I was brilliant!”

“That’s because you are brilliant, Marinette.” Tikki remarked, snuggling her holder’s cheek.

The ravenette giggled, returning the hug by cupping her with her palm. “I hope we get to talk again soon.”

Tikki simply smiled. Marinette deserved to be happy. She didn’t want to ruin that until she knew she had to.

The silence of the night strengthened Tikki’s resolve to stay as quiet as possible. Marinette mustn't find out about her sneaking out. The Master was adamant that he be kept a secret until they were told otherwise.

So, as her chosen cuddled under the covers and muttered about hamsters and paintings, Tikki flew through the trap door above and headed for Master Fu’s.

To say she was surprised when she found him already talking to Plagg was an understatement.

“Hello, Tikki. You’re just in time.” Master Fu greeted, gesturing for her to take a seat on the table.

“Hey, Sugar cube. What brings you here so late?” Plagg asked with a grin, causing Tikki to roll her eyes.

“Don’t call me that, and I’m here about Duusu.”

“Oh, so you figured out Chuckles was Le Paon, too?” He guessed, before putting a whole slice of cheese in his mouth.

Tikki gave him a look. “Who?”

Plagg took a minute to chew, before answering.

“He’s-” Bubbles forced themselves out of Plagg’s mouth before he could finish.

“He’s my kid’s brother.” He rephrased.

“How did you find out about it, Tikki?” Master Fu interrupted, focusing on the task at hand.

“Felix came to-” Bubbles came of Tikki’s mouth as well.

“Felix came to our house today,” She continued, “And I heard him talking to Duusu on the way out.”

Master Fu nodded, stroking his chin with a thoughtful expression. “Plagg hasn’t been able to get information about Hawkmoth from Duusu. Have you heard her say anything?”

Tikki shook her head. “I only heard her talking to Felix about the truffles.”

“Should I tell the kid? We’re supposed to be stopping them as soon as possible, right?” Plagg asked.

“True. Neutralizing an enemy would be helpful.” Master Fu began slowly. “However, we still don’t know who Hawkmoth is. If we take Felix’s miraculous, Hawkmoth will know we’re onto him. We need to be careful.”

“So.. what do we do about our chosens?” Tikki dared to ask.

“Keep them in the dark for now. Once we find out Hawkmoth’s identity, they will be able to know everything. Until then, I don’t want things getting out of hand.”

Tikki and Plagg nodded.

“Now go back to your holders before they get worried.” He instructed, shooing them off.

The kwamis did as they were told, each flying off in different directions, both hoping everything would turn out better than the situation deemed it so.

Tag List: @im-here-for-the-content @novicevoice @mewwitch@minightrose @frostymoon11 @multishipper1needshalp@unabashedbookworm @unholykrow @trubel43@kaydenth3gayden @stardustrevoutionx @legendaryneckjudgestudent @aurordraws @crazylittlemunchkin @weird-homosapien @celestethegoddess @imnostrangertodisasters

#Felinette #Le Paon AU #Felix Agreste #Marinette

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apoguecalledjj · 4 years ago

Text

Fixation (Chapter 6)

Series summary: Eleanor is new to the outer banks, and the pogues are quick to take her in. But so are the kooks, and as she grows closer with Rafe, trouble emerges. Trying to balance her relationship with the pogues and the kooks, as well as dealing with her own personal problems, Eleanor falls into a hole she may not be able to dig herself out of.

Chapter Word Count: 3366

Chapter Warnings: mentions of addiction and drug use

Previous Parts: Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6

Taglist: @prejudic3 @maragritatimebaybee @drewxxrudy @outerbankslove @bricksatanakinswindow @alexa-playafricabytoto

Rafe made it clear that he did not want Ellie hanging out with the pogues. When he woke up the day after their argument, he started another one, yelling at her once again. She only managed to calm him down by promising him that he would stay away from them. Even though Ellie was beginning to become scared of her boyfriend after their physical altercation, she still didn’t keep her promise. Living with a crazy, drug-addicted mom had taught her a lot about sneaking around and she was putting those skills to good use. Rafe was spending a lot of time with Topper and Kelce anyway, which made it easy. She had been hanging out with the pogues a lot. To be honest, she only went to Rafe’s every couple of nights to get high and have sex. He seemed content, now and then he would accuse her of avoiding him but once the cocaine got into him it was always forgotten about. Currently, Ellie was sat on the dock by the chateau. John B and Sarah sat across from her, Kiara and JJ on either side and Pope in the hammock a couple of feet away. It was a beautiful day, but for some reason, they had decided against swimming and instead had spent the morning sitting around, drinking beer and complaining about being bored. JJ had his arm draped loosely over Ellie’s shoulders. She had expected his friendliness to change once he found out she was dating Rafe, but he never faltered. She always brushed it off, because JJ flirts with everyone, but she couldn’t pretend that she didn’t notice the way he had stopped drifting away to tourists at parties or how John B and Pope constantly teased him and asked him if he was okay. According to them, he hadn’t gone this long without getting laid or even kissing a girl in over a year. Thinking that JJ might actually be seriously flirting with her made her stomach twist in a way she tried to ignore. Ellie knew Rafe wouldn’t be impressed with the way JJ was treating her, especially since she wasn’t meant to be hanging out with him at all. Yet, she never pushed him away or asked him to stop, because secretly, she enjoyed it. “Ellie, you never did mention what brought you to the outer banks,” Pope mentioned, looking at her from where he was in the hammock. “Is Travis your mom's brother or your dad's?” JJ could feel her tense underneath his arm, and he gently squeezed her shoulder. Besides her aunt and uncle, he was still the only person on the island to know her secret, she hadn’t even told Rafe. Not that Rafe cared enough to even ask. “uh,” She mumbled, looking down and picking at the skin around her fingernails. She hated hiding things from the pogues, they were so nice and open with her, and she did feel like they deserved to know. She trusted them. But it had always been hard for her to talk about, no matter who with. Not to mention it brought her mind right back to the fact that she was falling right into her mother’s footsteps. The scariest part was she didn’t care enough to change it. Ellie was already in too deep. JJ leaned over slightly, so his lips were near her ear. “Don’t feel like you have to tell them, El.,” He assured. “They’re not pushy. They’ll understand.” Ellie nodded, but she knew it was time to finally let them know. All of her new friends were looking at her, eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and sympathy. She continued to pick at her fingers, preparing herself to possibly change her friend's opinion of her. “It’s a bit hard for me to talk about,” She started. Her brain was flicking through memories like photographs. The day her little sister was born. Birthday parties. Vacations. Her mom, healthy and happy. First days of school. Then, as the timeline continued, less of her mom. More of Ellie taking care of her sister. Her mom stumbling home late with men Ellie didn’t trust around her sister. Needles left lying around that she was left to dispose of. Getting eviction warnings. Quitting sports to get a job. She didn’t even realize she was crying until JJ reached up and gently brushed a tear away. She sniffled, quickly wiping her eyes. There was no need for them to see her cry. “It’s okay, Ellie, you don’t have to tell us. We don’t mind.” Kiara spoke softly, smiling at her gently. She shook her head, continuing to speak. “My mom is a drug addict.” It felt like a weight was left off her chest, just letting that one piece of information out. She didn’t look up, had no intentions of locking eyes with any of the pogues. She could imagine well enough how they were looking at her. “She lost her job. It got worst and worst. I was terrified we would end up homeless. I had to give up all my after school activities, I got a job and worked as much as I could. I was selfish, I know I should have told someone or asked for help, but I was terrified of getting separated from my sister. I didn’t want to lose Sadie. She’s only 9.” Ellie choked up at the mention of her sister. JJ rubbed her back slowly, trying his best to soothe her even though he understood that probably wasn’t possible. “Eventually it got too much. My grades were dropping. I almost failed my junior year. Mom was spending more time at home instead of at other houses, and she brought men with her. I didn’t feel comfortable leaving Sadie in that house. I was scared something would happen to her. “I called DCS. I fucking called DCS on my own mother,” She sobbed out. This was the most she had ever told anyone. “They came to take my sister. They had contacted her dad, a man she didn’t even know, and he decided to fight for custody. It was short, because of the situation, and he won. She went with him. I went with uncle Travis, even though I begged to stay home. I needed to take care of my mom. She needed me.” JJ pulled Ellie even closer as her body shook with the sobs overcoming her. Sarah and John B were frozen in shock, John B had suspected something had happened for her to come here that she was uncomfortable talking about, but this wasn’t what he expected. Kiara grabbed her hand, squeezing it slightly. “They promised me I’d hear from my sister. That we would stay in contact. I haven’t heard from her yet. I don’t even know who her fucking father is, cause my mom was a goddamn slut and we had different dads. Surprised she only ended up with two kids.” The anger in her voice quickly shifted back to sadness. “I don’t even know what happened to my mom,” Ellie whimpered. “She might be dead.” “They wouldn’t let anything happen to her, El,” JJ reassured her as she sobbed into his chest. “She’s getting the help she needs.” “I just wish they’d let me know,” Ellie muttered. “Uncle Travis refuses to talk about her.” Kie wrapped her arms around Ellie. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve to go through that.” Sarah shifted over and joined the hug as well. “I’m sure you’ll hear from your sister soon.” Before long, Pope and John B had joined as well, and the six of them sat on the dock, huddled together in a group hug around Ellie, as her sobs slowly quieted and her body stopped shaking, comforted by her friends. --- Rafe had dragged Ellie to a party, but it wasn't on the beach like she was used to. Instead, she was at some random kook's house, music vibrating the wall and way too many unfamiliar faces. Pogues weren't welcome at these parties, Rafe told her. She wasn't stupid, she knew they stopped going to the Boneyard because her friends were there. He was dragging her here so she would be away from them. But his plan failed, because only an hour after they got there, there were shouts and whoops from the front door. The pogues were crashing the party, and Ellie had never been more glad to see some faces she knew. The party had been dull so far, and now there might be some excitement. Rafe’s eyes narrowed, glancing between his girlfriend next to him and the four pogues he noticed her staring at. It angered him, he could tell she longed to go talk to them. Her eyes were fixated on JJ specifically. God, Rafe hated that guy, hated the way Ellie seemed to be obsessed with him. That would have to be dealt with. JJ turned and finally noticed Ellie. “We should go say hi!” He said to John B, his eyes locked on the beautiful girl across the room. He didn’t notice it, but his smile grew wider. John B shook his head. “No man, are you crazy? She’s with Rafe.” JJ hadn’t noticed Rafe until John B pointed him out, standing right next to Ellie. She looked slightly uncomfortable, tense, and Rafe looked unhappy, angry even, his eyes slowly scanning the room. So JJ just waved at her instead, not being able to help himself. He saw her slight smile as she moved her hand to wave back, but Rafe grabbed her arm before she could lift it. JJ could tell he was holding Ellie too hard, he saw her wince at his grip. Rafe’s lips were moving angrily, but JJ was too far away to pick out what was being said. “John B he’s hurting her,” JJ said, turning to his best friend, but the brunet was nowhere to be seen. He glanced back at where Ellie was but the spot was now empty, the girl he cared so deeply about, and the boy who was hurting her gone. He glanced around, looking for any signs of her, but there were too many people at the party and whichever kook lived here had a huge house. Rafe’s hand grasped Ellie’s arm tightly. “Stop fucking staring at the pogues,” He sneered in her ear, quiet enough that no one could hear. “You’re here with me, alright? I don’t need my girl being seen with those fucking dirtbags.” He pulled back a bit, loosening his grip. Ellie stared at him with wide eyes, shocked that he would get so angry in public. “Come on now, baby,” He said, softer now. “Let’s go get the fun started.” He dragged her into a room just down the hallway, where multiple kooks she didn’t recognize were sat around a table covered in lines of white powder. Her body finally relaxed at the sight of the drug in front of her, she was eager to get across the room and lean down to the table. She tore away from Rafe, and before long, Ellie was bent over the table with the rest of them, a dollar bill rolled and assisting her in snorting the drug. She sighed happily, the feeling she missed and craved for finally coming back to her. All the conflict from Rafe was forgotten as he sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her, leaning down to do a line of his own. JJ quickly found his friends and a beer and tried his best to relax and enjoy himself, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Ellie had looked so upset, Rafe so angry, and he feared what the boy might do to her in a state of anger. “Guys I think we should go look for Ellie,” He mentioned to Pope and Kiara. John B and Sarah were off god knows where probably doing things no one wanted to think about. "JJ, she's with Rafe and you know how that'll end. I'm sure she's fine." Pope assured JJ. "I'm worried though, Rafe looked angry at her earlier. We don't have to talk to her, I just want to know where she is." He told the two. "Please," he added on after. "Okay fine," Kie gave in. "But just to find where she is. We are not talking to her. And don't make it obvious that we're looking for her, especially to Rafe." The three made their way around the party, squeezing around various kooks who did not seem too impressed by the pogues. They poked their head into room after room, praying that they wouldn't come across a couple having sex. Ella wasn't in the bathrooms, and she definitely wasn't still out at the party. Pope drifted down a hallway and stopped outside an open door. "Oh fuck," He muttered, leaning slightly against the wall. "Fuck. Fuck." "What? What is it?" JJ rushed over to where Pope was standing, Kiara not far behind. But Pope had no need to answer because the two could easily see what he had: Ellie sat around a table with half a dozen kooks, the surface in front of her scattered with cocaine. JJ prayed that Ellie was just there with Rafe, that she would know better than to get caught up in that, but all his prayers went out the window as he watched her grab the dollar bill from Rafe's hand and bend down. Kiara's breath hitched in her throat. "Oh, Ellie," She mumbled. We have to do something, guys." Pope said, moving towards the door. "No." JJ, of all people, held Pope back. "Look at how effortless she does it. The smile on her face. No one is pressuring her, I don't think this is her first time. If we rush in there telling her off, we just risk getting beat to shit by Rafe and his friends. We'll talk to her tomorrow after she works." Pope and Kiara nodded and turned, making their way back to the party. But JJ stayed just a minute longer, his heartbreaking as he watched Ellie fall in the steps of her mother. --- JJ didn’t wait until after work. The moment Ellie walked through the door, ready to clock into her shift, he jumped up. “Hey JJ!” She said excitedly, but her smile faltered when she noticed he didn’t match her energy. “Is something wrong?” “Yeah, somethings wrong,” JJ told her, sitting back down at the table with Pope, John B, and Sarah. Ellie scraped her brain, trying to figure out what this could be about. But she came up empty-handed, she couldn’t figure out what the pogues wanted to talk to her about. Kiara made her way out from behind the counter to the table they were sitting at. “Come on.” She motioned for Ellie to sit down with them. “Work can wait.” Kiara’s eyes looked stressed, and a quick glance at JJ and she could tell he hadn’t slept, dark bags under his eyes. Ellie pulled out a chair and sat down with them, fiddling nervously with her fingers under the table. She chewed at her lip until she tasted blood, her mind racing with possibilities of what was about to occur. “We saw you last night at the party,” Pope said softly. Ellie screwed up her face in confusion. She knew they had seen her, JJ had even waved. “After we got there,” Kiara added, sensing her confusion. “You were in a room.” Finally, everything fell together for Ellie. The pogues had seen her doing cocaine. They knew. Her breathing quickened, her hands beginning to shake slightly. They were never supposed to find out, and now here she was, five pairs of eyes staring at her with sadness, sympathy, and disappointment. She pushed back her chair harshly, standing up. “I don’t want to have this conversation.” John B, who had been sat on the left of her, grabbed her wrist softly. “Ellie, we want to help you.” He and Sarah had been filled in the night before, and even though they didn’t physically see it, they were just as shocked as the other three. “I don’t need your guys help.” Ellie took a step back. “It’s just cocaine.” “I know you’re smarter than that, Ellie. It’s not ‘just cocaine’. You have a history of addiction in your family. Do you really want to end up like your mom?” Pope asked, but that was the wrong thing to say. Ellie scoffed and turned on her heels, not wanting anything to do with the five people behind her right now. “I’m not my fucking mom.” She stormed across the room, letting the door slam on her way out. “Good job Pope!” JJ shouted before jumping up to go after her. Kiara went to get up too but JJ put out his hand, “No, stay there. I got this.” JJ found Ellie outside, leaned up against her uncle's truck. Tears were silently streaming down her face. Now that he knew about her usage, he was angry with himself for not knowing something was up sooner. Her nostrils were red and irritated, and she had lost weight in only the few weeks she had been here. Her hands were always shaking and her mood swings were quite severe, but JJ had always brushed that off as PMS. “El,” He mumbled quietly, reaching her side. “I’m not in the mood to be yelled at, JJ,” She muttered, shifting her body away from him. “I’m not gonna yell at you.” He grabbed her shoulder lightly and turned her so she was facing him. “I’m just worried about you, okay? I’m not mad.” Ellie nodded slowly, before breaking out into a sob. “I’m sorry, JJ,” She leaned her body into him, her face buried in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “I fucked up, I know but Rafe is always doing it. I didn’t think it would hurt. I didn’t think it would be a big deal. But now I can’t stop and JJ I’m so scared because I really don't want to end up like my mom and-” JJ cut her off. “Hey, El, shhh. It’s okay. We’re gonna help you, okay? You’re not gonna end up like your mom. You’re stronger than that, okay? It’s okay,” He gently kissed the top of her head, her sobbing getting quieter and her shaking slowing. “I’m sorry, JJ,” Ellie said, pulling back to look at him. her eyes were red and puffy, she looked so sad, and nothing could have broken his heart more. He hated to see her like this. “You’ve barely known me for three weeks and this is what you have to deal with. I don’t expect you to help, JJ.” “Of course I’m going to help you.” “Why?” Ellie couldn’t figure out why anyone would want to deal with her. “Because I’m falling in love with you, El. You make me feel things, things I’ve never felt before. I care about you, so, so fucking much and seeing you hurt like this is tearing my heart apart. Seeing you get better is the only thing I want to see.” Ellie smiled softly. “You really mean all that?” JJ nodded. “I do.” Neither of them knew who leaned in first, but their lips were pressed together. It felt right, this wasn’t how Ellie felt when she kissed Rafe, this was better. JJ’s arm wrapped around her waist lightly, his other hand gently stroking her cheek with his thumb. He bit her bottom lip softly and she opened her mouth, allowing his tongue to slip in. They could have stayed like that forever, Ellie’s hand tangled in JJ’s hair as she leaned up against the truck for support. But footsteps heading towards them quickly and they pulled apart, smiling at each other for just a second. But when Ellie turned to see who was coming, the smile fell quickly. Rafe was stood, just a couple feet away, a glare on his face, aimed more at JJ than Ellie. “Ellie, you want to explain to me what the fuck is going on?”

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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You Know You Love Me, Chapter 8 (Branjie) - Kiki

A/N: Not it being almost a month since I updated this lmao. Honestly, is anyone being productive right now? (Pls say no to make me feel better lol) I hope everyone is doing good and I hope you enjoy this chapter, just 3 more left until it’s finally finished!

Saturday was Brooke’s favourite day of the week.

She got to wake up whenever she wanted, she didn’t find herself rushing to make it to school on time and she could fill her day with all of the things that made her happy.

She woke up in a good mood since there was no alarm clock blaring at her in the early hours of the morning and she felt at ease. She knew that today was going to be a good day for three reasons; she was able to spend the rest of the morning and afternoon completely relaxing and doing absolutely nothing, there was a big Halloween party happening that night so she would be able to dance and drink and have fun with her friends and, the biggest reason; she got to see Vanessa.

Brooke put her furry slippers on and slowly walked down the stairs of her penthouse apartment and found herself immediately walking over to the coffee machine. Her body was on autopilot as she prepared her first coffee of the day and made a quick breakfast of fruit, yoghurt and granola.

As she walked to the living room with her breakfast, she turned on the TV and sat down on the soft leather couch and wondered exactly what she was going to do today. It was already 12pm (she had definitely slept in for longer than she intended to) and she had to be at Vanessa’s at 3pm to have lunch with the girls and start getting ready for the party. Vanessa wanted Brooke to help her curl her hair and Brooke wanted Akeria’s help with her eye makeup so they all figured it would just be easier to get ready and travel to the party together.

She decided to have Gilmore Girls on in the background (this was probably her fifth time re-watching it) while she scrolled through her phone. After spending a couple of minutes on Twitter and Facebook, she got bored of looking at other people’s social media feeds and was about to put her phone away until she saw it: a Gossip Girl blast entitled “Vanessa Mateo Gets Her Revenge”.

She immediately clicked on the link and saw that the post went up last weekend. She couldn’t believe she missed it for so long, usually she clicked on anything that Gossip Girl put up about her friends straight away, especially since the post that she had put up about Brooke and Vanessa.

Brooke was extremely confused while she read the post. There were pictures of Kameron being escorted away by her parents and…security guards? Brooke had to squint her eyes to focus on the three people in the background and her heart sank when she realised that, yes, it was in fact Vanessa, Akeria and Silky in the background with massive grins on their faces while Kameron was being dragged away.

Brooke scrolled down some more and saw that Gossip Girl had revealed exactly where Kameron’s parents were shipping her off to and Brooke Lynn couldn’t help but feel bad for her old friend. She knew how it felt when your own parents made plans to get rid of you and she couldn’t imagine how angry she would’ve felt if she knew that someone her own age had influenced her parents to make that decision.

Granted, Kameron did deserve some revenge after what she put Vanessa through. But being shipped off to reform school and probably never being able to earn back her parents trust? Brooke thought that was a step too far. Brooke wanted to call Vanessa about what happened but she knew that now probably wasn’t the best time, it would just end in a massive argument where they were both screaming down the phone at each other down. She thought about it some more and came to the conclusion that Akeria would leave out all the important details and would make it seem like it wasn’t that big a deal so that Brooke wouldn’t be angry at Vanessa. Silky was the only one who would want to tell Brooke everything purely because she loved to talk shit about anyone when she had the opportunity to do so.

Brooke grabbed her phone and called Silky, who picked up immediately. Straight away, Brooke demanded to be told exactly what had went down last weekend and Silky was more than happy to fill Brooke in.

“Ooh, Miss Brooke Lynn, I wish you could’ve been there to see the look on Kameron’s face. It was hilarious! And Vanessa was throwing shade and we were all laughing, it was a real good time. Shame the girl had to be literally shipped off for it to happen, but she got what she deserved.” Silky said smugly. Brooke could tell that Silky really didn’t care what happened to Kameron and only added in that last part to sound like a good person but Brooke didn’t have enough time or energy to focus on that bit right now.

She spent the next fifteen minutes drilling Silky with questions. She heard all about how they tried to get Vanessa to plan her revenge but Vanessa had been reluctant at first, how she had finally given in and they had spent hours combing through her social media and how Vanessa had text Kameron off of her phone.

Brooke couldn’t help but feel a bit used. She thought that Vanessa coming over with coffee for her and her mom was a really sweet and genuine gesture but now finding out that it had only been a distraction in one of her crazy revenge plans? Brooke was hurt.

“Brooke? You there?” Silky asked and Brooke realised that she must have zoned out towards the end of the story but she knew most of that from the Gossip Girl blast anyways.

“Yeah, Silk…sorry but I gotta go. See you later.” She promptly hung up and threw her phone to the other side of the couch, wondering what to do next.

—

On the drive over to Vanessa’s apartment, Brooke’s anger grew and grew. She had left her house with good intentions: she was going to go over there and have a civil and mature conversation with Vanessa about what she did and how wrong it was. But the closer the cab got to Vanessa’s street, the more upset Brooke felt. She knew that this probably wouldn’t end well and that they had a party to go to later and would have to at least pretend that they were getting along so that Gossip Girl didn’t write yet another story about them, but right now she didn’t care about any of that. Right now, all she wanted to do was scream.

As soon as the doorman let her in, she walked with a speed she didn’t know she had and found Dorota dusting the dining room table.

“Where is she?” Brooke asked angrily which startled Dorota. She pointed at the staircase with her duster and Brooke ran up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. She swung the door to Vanessa’s bedroom open and found the brunette laying on her bed in her pyjamas, painting her nails.

“Brookie! Hi!” Vanessa said while jumping up excitedly and running over to give Brooke a hug. Before she could reach her, Brooke’s pushed her back to stop her from getting any closer and Vanessa realised she wasn’t okay. She looked extremely pissed off, anyone with eyes could see that. But there was something else that only Vanessa could recognise because of how well they knew each other. Her green eyes were full of emotion and Vanessa frowned when she realised: Brooke was sad. Not just sad, extremely upset. “B…what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? Hmm, I dunno. Maybe the fact that you schemed and planned a freaking revenge attack on Kameron and got her shipped away to a reform school and didn’t tell me about it?” Brooke yelled as she talked and Vanessa was a bit taken aback. Sure, she knew Brooke was gonna be pissed off when she found out what Vanessa had done but she didn’t think she would care this much. Vanessa had to take a moment to recover and plan her next move because she really didn’t know how to reply to Brooke.

“Brooke…are you really that mad about it?” Vanessa asked quietly, wishing that Brooke was just pranking her and she didn’t actually care as much as it looked like she did.

“Are you seriously asking me if I’m mad that you got a girl shipped off to reform school, lied to me about it, told our other friends not to tell me about it, came over to my house to distract me while you stole my phone so you could pull a stupid scheme? Of course I’m mad, Vanessa! How could I not be?” Brooke’s voice was only getting louder and louder as she spoke and Vanessa knew she had fucked up big time.

“I’m sorry…look, B, I know you hate it when I do stuff like this but I can’t just let her get away with doing what she did to me. That’s not how I am. If she can try and ruin my life then why can’t I try and ruin hers?” Vanessa knew she sounded like a child who was getting scolded by her mother but she couldn’t stop herself from saying what she felt.

“Because your life wasn’t ruined, Vanessa, everything ended up fine.”

“No it didn’t! I was upset for so long after what happened and you know that!” Vanessa argued back, her anger levels now rising to match Brooke’s.

“You ended up with family and friends who supported you and no one dared to say a bad thing to you about it. She’s now being shipped off and probably hated by her parents because of this. You always act before you think, it’s like you think there aren’t any consequences to your actions!” Vanessa had to take a step back and try control her emotions after hearing what Brooke said. She didn’t know what she was feeling more; sadness or anger. Was Brooke Lynn really defending Kameron? After everything they had been through? “I just can’t believe you used me like that, Vanessa. I’m used to you tricking other people like that but not me.”

“I’m sorry, B…” Vanessa was willing to forget about Brooke Lynn defending Kameron considering how sad she looked at that moment. She couldn’t focus on being angry when Brooke looked like she was about to cry.

“That’s the thing, though. You’re not sorry. If you were sorry, you’d apologise to Kameron too. Her life is probably ruined now after this. Not to mention the fact that her family life is probably broken now too. You’re really not getting how bad this is, are you?” It was as if Brooke’s entire personality had changed. Two seconds ago she was holding back tears and now she was screaming at the top of her lungs. She knew deep down that she was more upset at how Vanessa had used her as a pawn in her scheme but she was playing it off as anger.

Vanessa’s personality had changed very quickly too. Just a moment ago, she had been willing to get on her knees and beg for Brooke’s forgiveness. She would’ve done anything to make her feel better. But defending Kameron twice? She couldn’t accept that. She was instantly filled with jealousy and although she absolutely hated it and even the thought of acknowledging that jealousy made her feel like shit, she knew she couldn’t ignore it.

“Why are you defending her so much?” Vanessa asked quietly. Brooke looked up and could see by Vanessa’s facial expression that she was pissed.

“What do you mean?” Brooke asked, not wanting to speak before she understood what Vanessa meant.

“I can understand you being mad that I lied to you. That I took your phone and used it behind your back as part of a scheme. I completely get that. But why are you defending her? Why do you keep emphasising how bad it is for her?” Brooke could see where Vanessa was coming from but she knew she was being irrational. This was supposed to be about Brooke being mad. Vanessa didn’t get to be mad too. That wasn’t fair. “Did you go yell at her after what she did to me? I’m pretty sure you didn’t. So why the hell are you so angry about what I did to her? Was she your little side chick or something? Are you mad I got your side bitch locked away?” Vanessa was fuming at this point and Brooke knew that this was going to end in a disastrous way.

“You cannot be serious right now Vanessa.” Brooke said sternly. “You seriously cannot be accusing me of sleeping with Kameron after I told you about what happened between me and her in the past.”

“Then why are you so pressed about it?” Vanessa asked with her eyebrows raised and a hand on her hip.

“Because it’s wrong, V! It’s such a shitty thing to do. I can understand Kameron doing shitty things but not you. You’re supposed to be my Vanessa. The one with a heart of gold. This isn’t you.”

“But you’re defending her! You’re on her side!” Vanessa yelled, angry tears forming in her eyes as she tried her best not to let them spill.

“No I’m not, V, there aren’t any sides here! I just want you to take some fucking responsibility for what you’ve done!”

“I’m fucking sorry, Brooke! I’m so sorry that I hurt you! But you’re literally picking her over me and I can’t accept that.” Vanessa’s tears slowly rolled down her cheeks and Brooke wanted nothing more than to wipe them away and kiss her better but she held herself back.

“I’m not picking anyone, Vanessa, seriously.” Brooke rolled her eyes at how Vanessa was acting whilst Vanessa’s heart was breaking.

“You seriously wouldn’t pick my side over hers?” Vanessa whispered softly, looking Brooke directly in her eyes.

“I swear to God, Vanessa, for the last time: I’M NOT PICKING ANY SIDES!” Brooke couldn’t contain herself anymore. She felt like a volcano that had been due to erupt for a long time now.

“You’re supposed to pick me. You’re supposed to support me if someone does something bad to me, not defend the other person.” Vanessa was full on sobbing at this point, she couldn’t contain it.

“I can’t support you doing things like that. I just can’t.”

“That’s fine, but why do you have to defend her like that…it’s like you don’t even care how I felt, you just wanna make me feel bad for getting revenge on someone.”

“I do wanna make you feel bad, Vanessa, what you did was awful.” Brooke knew that she was being harsh. She knew that Vanessa was in her feelings right now and that she wouldn’t be okay with the things that Brooke was saying but she had to get them out. She couldn’t control it.

“Can you leave please? I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.” Vanessa mumbled as she wiped her eyes. She was so thankful that she skipped her makeup routine that morning otherwise she would’ve had mascara smeared all down her face.

“No, Vanessa, you need to grow up and deal with the consequences of what you’ve done.”

“Brooke, I’m so sorry about what I did to you. I feel so guilty about lying to you like that. But I won’t apologise for what I did to her. I just can’t.”

“I don’t think I can see you the same way as I used to then, V…” Brooke replied and Vanessa was coming to terms that whatever she had with Brooke was probably over by now.

“I knew this was too good to be true…” Vanessa whispered.

“What are you talking about?” Brooke asked out of frustration.

“You and me…we could never be together. It was too good to be true.” Brooke was shocked at Vanessa’s statement. She kind of just assumed they would work through this like they worked through everything else, but it didn’t seem like Vanessa had come to that same conclusion.

“V, stop…don’t say that.”

“No, it’s true. Because I can’t be with someone who defends someone who has wronged me and not only that, tries to act like they’re on some fucking moral high ground when I do something wrong. Newsflash, Brooke, everybody makes mistake. Nobody’s perfect. Are you really gonna act like you haven’t done and said some stupid shit in your life? Because I could probably list twenty things you’ve done if you want me to. But I’m not about to take this kinda scrutiny from you. It’s not okay. I’m not having you fucking roast me this hard every time I fuck up.”

“Well I’m not gonna let you get away with being a manipulative bitch and act like what you do doesn’t affect people.” Vanessa’s face immediately hardened and that was when Brooke knew that they had both taken it too far. To the point of no return. Vanessa took a deep breath in, told her to get the fuck out of her house, and stormed off into her bathroom and locked the door.

Brooke stood there stunned for a minute not knowing what she should do. But as soon as she thought about the things Vanessa had said again, anger was the only thing she could focus on and she stormed out of her bedroom and down the stairs. It was only when she got to the living room that she realised leaving would probably be the worst mistake of her entire life. She quietly walked back up the stairs and opened the door to Vanessa’s room as quietly as she could and what she heard broke her heart. Vanessa was openly sobbing as if someone had died. Brooke felt the anger leave her body all at once, as if it was never there. She walked over to the bathroom and sat on the floor, leaning against the locked door with Vanessa on the other side of it.

“V?” Brooke called out, hoping that Vanessa responded.

“Go away.” Vanessa sounded like she had a cold, her nose was all sniffly and her voice was hoarse from crying.

“Nessa, please…open the door.” Brooke begged, wanting nothing more than to hold the smaller girl in her arms. Vanessa didn’t reply so Brooke came to terms with the fact that she was going to be doing most of the talking for the moment.

“Listen, V…I’m so sorry. I can’t even begin to put it into words how sorry I am, I completely overreacted and I shouldn’t have done. I’m so so so sorry Vanessa.” Brooke had a hard time keeping her tears in but she knew that there had to be at least one of them not crying for this conversation to go successfully. All of a sudden, the bathroom door opened and Brooke was met with a puffy eyed Vanessa. She stood up and followed Vanessa over to her bed where they sat down. Vanessa immediately wrapped herself in her pink blanket, gently wiping her eyes with the corner of it.

“You didn’t overreact, B. What I did was dumb and I know that.” Vanessa admitted and Brooke knew that they were on a good path to recovery here, especially if Vanessa was admitting that she was wrong so quickly into the conversation.

“That doesn’t mean I should treat you like I did. I think I was just hurt that you lied to me and instead of dealing with that, I focused on the anger part because it’s easier to deal with.” Brooke smiled weakly and put her hand on Vanessa’s knee, stroking it gently. “I’m so sorry I let it go that far. I think I need to work on controlling my anger a bit.” Vanessa laughed softly at what Brooke had said.

“I’m sorry too, Brooke. I know what I did was wrong. I promise to stop meddling in people’s lives from now on…especially yours. I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you what I was doing and that I lied to you. It won’t ever happen again I promise.” Vanessa put her hand on top of Brooke’s hand on her knee and squeezed it gently. “Am I forgiven?” Brooke nodded and climbed up to be beside her on the bed.

“Am I?” Brooke asked as she wrapped her arms around Vanessa from behind and Vanessa nodded slowly, turning her head around slightly so she could see Brooke’s face. Brooke gently grabbed Vanessa’s chin and moved her face up before connecting their lips together and both girls shared a sigh of relief that they were on good terms again. Even though the fight was short, Vanessa was sure it was the worst she had felt in a long time, even worse than when Kameron had outed her.

The two of them knew that they still had a lot of issues to overcome but right now, all they wanted to do was focus on kissing each other…and they did. For about an hour. The only reason they stopped was because Silky and Akeria arrived to get ready for Halloween, otherwise they probably would’ve been there all night.

The girls spent their time doing their makeup and hair and finalising their costumes, listening to music and talking and overall, having a great time. Brooke had missed nights like this when she was in boarding school and spending time with all of her friends made her so grateful to be back. She couldn’t wait for the night ahead.

—

The girls arrived to the club that was hosting their school’s annual Halloween party in the black limo that Brooke had ordered and they were bursting with excitement. They had drunk numerous glasses of champagne on the short drive there and they were ready to have an amazing night.

Brooke had decided to dress up as Marilyn Monroe, her hair curled short to recreate Marilyn’s iconic waves. Vanessa had been speechless when she saw Brooke in the short dress but she had to force herself to refrain from doing anything for the sake of Akeria and Silky. Akeria had dressed up as a cheerleader simply because she was mad that their school didn’t have a cheer team and she thought it was a shame that everybody hadn’t seen her in a cheer outfit. Silky was dressed up as a Roman Goddess (Vanessa had been extremely confused as to how she was going to pull that off but she decided not to question it) and the costume consisted of a white bedsheet that she had wrapped around her body and strategically pinned in place. She was hoping that by the end of the night, the sheet would be gone and she’d be in someone’s bed and had told everyone proudly that the costume was worn for “easy access” only. Vanessa had decided to dress up as a salsa dancer and got her mom to design a super short red sparkly dress for her. It fit her like a glove and she had her hair down curled to perfection (with Brooke’s help) and she felt amazing. Brooke couldn’t stop staring at her ass and her legs because they looked so phenomenal in that outfit.

Brooke and Vanessa walked into the party hand in hand and absolutely everybody had their eyes on them. It was like royalty had just walked in. People parted to make way for them all whilst staring at them intensely.

Brooke gently squeezed Vanessa’s hand in reassurance as the group of four found the booth reserved for them and quickly ordered a round of drinks for their table. Brooke worried that Vanessa would start to feel anxious or upset with everybody’s eyes on the two of them but if she was, she wasn’t showing it. Akeria locked eyes with Vanessa and Vanessa nodded reassuringly, letting the group know that she was okay. They downed a shot of tequila each and quickly hit the dancefloor.

Usually, Vanessa would be all over her friends while dancing at a party like this. She remembered the party that happened the night before Brooke left for boarding school and how they had danced and grinded up on each other pretty much all night, but things were different now. Now, people knew her secret and they were definitely watching her to see what they would do.

Brooke could tell Vanessa was overthinking things as they were dancing. She was trying to appear normal but she was definitely focusing her energy on dancing with Akeria instead of with Brooke.

Vanessa wanted nothing more than to dance with Brooke and be all over her but there was something holding her back from doing it. She felt like a ten-year-old girl who was too afraid to tell her crush that she liked them. It was pathetic. She absolutely hated how she wasn’t feeling like her confident self. On any other day, she would walk through the halls of her high school with the exact same people that were in this club with her right now and not give a crap what they thought about her. She was trying her hardest to bring that confidence back to herself but it just wasn’t working.

She looked over to Brooke who was dancing and joking around with Silky. When Brooke saw Vanessa staring, she gave her a small smile and a discrete wink which made Vanessa smile in return. Brooke was the one who made her feel like she could conquer the world without even saying anything.

She was instantly brought back to what Brooke had said to her that night she had planned to run away: “You’re a Mateo, remember? People don’t tell you who you are, you tell them.”

“Fuck it.” Vanessa thought as she walked over to Brooke, grabbed her face and kissed her slowly. She could almost feel people’s eyes piercing into her (and also could hear Silky screaming loudly with pride) but she decided that she didn’t care. At the end of the day, she was the most popular girl in school for a reason and kissing Brooke wasn’t going to change that. When Vanessa pulled away, she could see Brooke was stunned.

“Wow…um, I wasn’t expecting that.” Brooke said, clearly flustered from the unexpected kiss. Vanessa giggled in response and went back to the other two girls and continued dancing with them. She felt so much better now that she didn’t have to restrain herself. She could confidently dance with Brooke and make everyone jealous that she was able to make out with the hottest girl at the party.

After a while, the DJ announced that he was going to play a song for all the couples and as soon as the slow song started playing, Brooke held out her hand to Vanessa.

“Ness, may I have this dance?” Brooke asked sarcastically and Vanessa accepted immediately (of course). Vanessa, being an absolute hopeless romantic, was dying on the inside. She felt like she was starring in her own romance movie and she loved how it was going. They spent the next few minutes wrapped in each other’s arms, swaying gently to the music.

Both of them were so happy that, even though the day had been eventful to say the least, it had still ended so perfectly.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #lesbian au #gossip girl au #rich girl au #high school au #you know you love me #kiki #submission

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