#capped off by how i met your mother a few years later

[severalowls]

Hey why is fucking Friends trending on tumblr dot com? Why is Chandler trending in 2023? Are zoomers getting into the white middle class fantasy wank show? Are is it this website's secret over-40s demographic showing up?

[goingsunnythousandmerry]

I'm always a slut for Law x readers... literally and metaphorically 😂

Honestly we would all love anything you write, they're all perfect 👌

Law X Strawhat Pirate Reader

On the way to Dressrosa...

Authors Note: As you requested some Law x reader. Hope you enjoy!

MDNI. Law Smut. friends to lovers i guess?

Like, comment, request below. Hope you all enjoy. Thanks for reading, friends!

Warnings: MDNI, oral (f/receiving), Vaginal penetration, sexual tension, fluff, NSFW, Public sex?, getting caught in the act, praise kink, i do not own these characters, railing/pounding

Summary: You, a member of the Strawhat Pirates, had met Trafalgar Law at Sabaody Archipelago two years ago. You had wandered off from the crew to explore the island on your own and bumped into him in a coffee shop. The two of you chatted awhile, mostly about medicine, but a bit about your adventures. Later that day, you ran back into him, and he saved you during the battle at the auction house. 2 years later, You and your crew bumped into him in the New World and formed an alliance with him at Punk Hazard. You were paired with him for a large portion of your time at Punk Hazard. You even chose to spend some of your down time after escaping the lab facility catching up with him. Now, after leaving Punk Hazard, you, your crewmates, Kinemon, Momonosuke, and Law, headed for Dressrosa to take on Doflamingo. The only issue, you found Law insanely attractive, had developed feelings for him, and were now headed for another adventure with him in your new found alliance.

You stood against the railing of the top deck of the Sunny and stared out at the ocean. Your hair billowed in the wind  behind you. You listened to the antics of your crew as your crewmates gave Law (who they were now calling “Traffy” thanks to your captain) Kinemon, and Momo a tour of the ship. You laughed as you heard Law get angry at Luffy’s suggested changes to his plans for Dressrosa. 

Your hands gripped tighter to the railing as you stared more intensely at the sparkling waves of the ocean before you. You took a deep inhale of the salty air and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Your thoughts turned to wondering what else the New World could hold for you and your crew as you looked to take on another Warlord and beyond to an Emperor of the Sea. It had already begun with an unlikely ally. An ally, you couldn’t help, but feel butterflies around. His hat had changed and something else was different about him too. He was more serious than he had been on the other side of the Red Line. This mission, something about it, seemed extremely personal to him.

Law, was so mysterious. Why was he without his crew? Why was he willing to ask for help? Why your crew? Why had the thought of his tattooed fingers been stuck in your mind for 2 years? Why could you not stop thinking about his dark messy hair that stuck out from his furry cap and his yellow-gray eyes? Footsteps began to approach from behind you, but you were too lost in your thoughts to notice.

“Y/N.” Law called as he stopped behind you.

“Hmm…?” You asked as you quickly swung your head around to look at him.

Noticing who it was, you stepped back from the rail to turn your body to face him. The dark circles under his eyes were very prominent. His expression was blank as he stared at you. A soft smile formed across your lips as you grabbed the railing behind you.

“Heard you signed up for guard duty tonight, mind if I join you?” He questioned.

“Oh, uh, sure.�� 

He nodded at you, then began to walk away. You took a deep breath hesitating before deciding to speak again. The rest of your crew found your mother hen nature charming, annoying, but charming, they were thankful for it. You weren’t sure how a guest would handle it.

“Law.” You started to call. “How long has it been since you got some rest?”

“A few days, I’m fine.” He replied as a breath visibly caught in his chest.

You took a step towards him. The deck creaked beneath your feet causing Law’s body to stiffen. You looked up at the sky hesitating about your actions. 

“Maybe Law’s crew never encouraged him to get rest, or maybe without them, there was no one to encourage him.” You thought to yourself as you returned your gaze to him stopped in his tracks.

“Law, you look exhausted, you should head to the men's dorm and try to take a nap.”

“I’m fine. Besides, You guys have spent one day in the New World and that room already smells like ass. I wouldn’t be able to sleep there. This crew is so loud I don’t know how any of you get any rest.” He replied.

“Law…” You hesitated again. “What if I could get Nami and Robin to stay out of the girls' dorm? Think you could get some rest there? I promise it doesn’t smell like ass. You could use my bed and I could ask the crew to steer clear of the area for a few hours. I just… I just want everyone at their best for tomorrow.”

“Fine.” He said as he looked back over his shoulder at you, then walked away towards the main deck. You watched him go and returned your gaze to the ocean for a brief moment.

“Okay great, but where are you going to nap before guard duty, you idiot?” You said to yourself with a sigh. “Once again your putting others before yourself has got you into a jam… Oh well. It’s Law’s plan, he needs the rest more than I do.” 

You walked down the steps of the top deck to the main deck in search of Nami and Robin. You found them sitting at a table sipping specialty drinks from Sanji. They also agreed to help keep the rest of the crew away from that part of the ship. Nami laughed deviously when you asked and charged you a ridiculous amount of berries. Robin had smiled suspiciously while you and Nami haggled. Ultimately, both agreed to stay out of the girls dorm for a few hours. They also both agreed to babysit the rest of the crew and keep them away from that part of the ship, so Traffy could rest. You thanked them, but found Robin a bit too encouraging when she sent you off to go find Traffy. You warned the rest of your crewmates of Traffy napping and asked them not to disturb him. They agreed, then returned to their shenanigans. 

You found Law, as you preferred to refer to him, back on the top deck of the ship. He was looking out at the ocean lost in thought. You smiled at how peaceful he looked, but it faded as you noticed the intense expression on his face. His elbows rested on the ship's rail as he leaned over it. He looked like he was carrying a tremendous burden he wasn’t sharing. You trusted him, you felt like at this point, now in an alliance with him, you could call him a friend. Would he go that far? Probably not, but you and your captain trusted Law. 

“Law.” You called.

“-tch”. You heard his lips escape, as his jaw tightened and he broke out of his train of thought.

He stood up tall and turned to face you. His arms rested wide on the rails beside him. His body remained tense as his gaze met yours. A smile grew across your lips as he looked at you.

“Come on, the crew isn’t going to bug you. I’ll show you where you can get some rest for a few hours.”

“Fine.” He replied, letting go of the rails.

You walked towards the girls dormitory and he followed. Nami smiled at you devilishly from across the ship as you walked past her. You rolled your eyes at her and continued forward. Law didn’t say anything as you walked. You reached the door of the girls dorm and grabbed the handle.

“Here we are. Hopefully, you can sleep here a few hours, or at least close your eyes for a bit.” You said as you opened the door. 

You flipped on the lights revealing a room with three beds, a pink one, a purple one, and a blue one. In Between each bed was a small side table. Next to the purple bed were books, next to the pink bed were a mixture of trinkets and books, and next to the blue bed there were trinkets, a book, and a beat up journal. Yours was the bed with the puffy blue comforter against the furthest wall. Atop it lay a soft plush blanket and several pillows of varying plumpness. You walked towards it and pointed.

“This one's mine. Feel free to use any of the pillows or blankets or throw anything off.”

Law sat down on the bed and put his finger tips together. He looked down at his feet on the floor and rested his sword against the table next to the bed. 

“I would’ve guessed this one was yours. Thanks.” He said flatly.

He didn’t look you in the eye to thank you. You were giving up your rest before your next adventure and he hadn’t even looked at you. Sure you could’ve tried to nap somewhere else on the ship, but you were a light sleeper and Law was right, this crew was loud. You couldn’t believe you considered him cute. At that moment, you were beyond angry at yourself. You gave him a half smile and turned around to head for the door. 

“Y/N.” Law called out to you.

“Yeah?”” You asked as you turned back mid-step to face him.

“You’re on guard duty tonight, where are you going to sleep beforehand?” He questioned as he looked you in the eye.

“I don’t need to rest, I’m good. You look exhausted, Law, get some rest, please.” You begged.

“You need rest too, things in Dressrosa aren’t going to be easy…” He said as his gaze looked back down at the floor in front of him.

“A nap does sound great.” You said with a yawn. “I’ll find somewhere else. Unless… well it is my bed… or I can probably crash on...” You started as you nervously raised a hand to the back of your head and shifted in place.

“Fine.” He replied.

You stood wide eyed staring at him as he sat up straighter on your bed and peeled his sweater off. You hadn’t realized his chest was tattooed. You felt butterflies in your stomach swirl faster and faster. Your cheeks heated up as a pink hue fell across them. You tried to close your mouth, but all you could do was watch as he peeled back the covers and scooted to the far side of the bed. He faced the far wall and laid on his side, his back to you. You turned to close the door and gulped hard. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath as you flipped off the lights and kicked off your shoes. Hesitantly, you made your way toward your bed where the attractive man laid. Your hand shaking slightly, you lifted the covers and climbed in next to him. 

You were wearing a cropped t-shirt and short-shorts that you had changed into after leaving the cold side of Punk Hazard. Suddenly, your clothes felt very small as electricity tingled between the space of your two bodies on the bed. You felt far from him and yet, so close. Your heartbeat quickened as your thoughts raced. You wanted to scoot closer to him, but knew he was here to nap, not to frolic in your fantasies. You couldn’t help, but think about it though, the feeling of his skin against yours. You quietly gulped as you turned from your back, to lay on your side, facing the door, and away from Law. You shifted a bit against your pillow and tried to get comfortable. You’d never slept beside someone like this before. It was intimate and meaningless to him, you were sure. You tucked your ponytail up and away from your neck and you shut your eyes. The deafening silence filled the air as you tried to clear your mind and drift off to sleep. Then, the mattress squeaked as Law turned to lay on his side, now facing you. Your eyes flicked open, chest froze mid-rise. 

Your heart began to race again. Every inch between you felt too far. You took a deep breath and sat up a bit to fluff your pillow. You couldn’t take it, it was like a magnet was pulling you to him. You used the pillow fluffing as an opportunity to scoot your body further into the bed towards Law. Your back still to him, you shimmied your lower back and rear end in front of him. His arm was laying on the mattress near your lower back. The two of you weren’t touching, but you could feel the weight of his arm sunken into the mattress behind you. A small shift or the adjustment of his hand and you would be touching. You were being driven mad by the sparks flying between your bodies at the need to be connected. Having just moved, you were too afraid to scoot closer. You closed your eyes again and pretended to try to sleep. Hoping, he would close the gap between you or you’d fall asleep and the need to be closer to him would disappear.

 A few minutes passed in silence. Then, the weight of the mattress shifted behind you once more causing your heart to race. Lightning shot through your body as the side of his hand and his pinky adjusted to lay against your lower back. Your breath caught in your chest and a smile grew across your cheeks. You shifted your hips backwards, closer to his. His fingertips slowly slid up your back causing fireworks to shoot through your body as his entire hand moved to rest upon your waist. You took a deep breath, then turned your head over your shoulder and looked for him in the dark.

Law raised his head from his pillow as you turned. Your eyes met. The bed squeaked as you rolled entirely on your back to look up at him. Your shoulder against his chest, his head towering over you, his hand had moved from your hip closest to him to the one farthest from him. His soft and chapped lips found yours in the darkness. They were gentle and unsure at first. Your hands left the bed and wrapped around his neck, finding his dark locks to twirl into. His kiss began to build  passionately as you parted your lips allowing your tongues to intertwine. 

His Death tattooed fingers flipped the hem of your shirt as they wandered across your waist. You pulled him deeper into the kiss as his hands traveled further up your shirt. His thumbs gently brushed and toyed at the base of your breasts, before fully being enveloped and squeezed by his large thin hands. His lips never stopped their dance with yours as his hands slid from under your shirt back to your waist. In one quick motion, Law pulled you onto himself on the bed. Your legs straddled his pelvis as he pulled away from your kiss with a nibble at your lower lip. A string of saliva still attaching you to one another, he laid his head on the pillow behind him. You panted as you stared at one another in the darkness.

“Y/N. Do you want to..?” He muttered between pants.

“Yes.” You said as you attacked his lips with yours again.

His hands wrapped around your neck and jaw, pulling you deeper into his kiss. Your fingers intertwined with his hair. As you continued to kiss, his fingers traced down your body to the hem of your t-shirt. Your lips parted as he pulled your shirt over your head. His lips moved to nibble at your ear lobe. You moaned against his cheek as his hands slid up your spine to find the clasp of your bra. Your hands fell from his hair to his chest, where you began studying his toned muscles with your fingertips. Your mouth moved to his ear as he planted kisses down your neck.

“Traffy, I’ve wanted you since that cafe.” You whispered in his ear.

You felt a smile form across his lips, as he kissed the tops of your breasts, just above your bra cups. His hands met in the middle of your back and undid the clasp to your bra. You lifted your arms from his chest as he pulled it down your arms. Your breasts softly bounced as they were released from their fabric holder.

“Had I known that, I would’ve taken you there on a table or at the auction house.” He said as his slight grin flattened.

You sat up allowing him to admire the site of your bare chest. His eyes widened and his tattooed fingers lifted from his sides to play with your breasts and thumb at your nipples. He paused his play to pull your waist closer to him. While one hand held your waist, he kissed and nibbled his way down your collar bone to your breasts. You moaned as he bit at your sensitive buds. Your hands fingered through his dark locks as he licked at your buds. After another nibble of your nipple, Law grabbed your waist and fell backwards on the bed. He pulled you further on top of him. 

His lips found yours once more. His hands roaming your waist and chest, you sat up on your hands. You let one of your hands trace down his chiseled chest until it found the zipper of his spotted jeans. You rubbed his hardening member through the fabric. His hands traveled from your chest to your waist where he fingered at the waistline of your shorts. You unzipped his jeans, pulling away from his kiss as you did. You rolled off of him a moment, to pull off your shorts and panties and tossed them on the floor beside the bed. Law pulled off his jeans and briefs and threw them in the same direction of yours.

Once both fully undressed, you rolled back on top of him, straddling your naked hips against his. He pulled the blanket over your waists and brought your lips back to his. Your hands over his shoulders, pinning him to the bed, his hands exploring your body. His hardened length poking into your abdomen. 

A loud noise came from outside the door and suddenly, the door to the girls dormitory swung open and a beam of light filled the room. Luffy barrel rolled in, landing on his head with his back facing you. Usop followed closely behind Luffy and gasped as he stood in the doorway. Blood spurted out of Usop’s nose and his jaw hung open. You gasped as your lips pulled from Law’s and your head turned to the ruckus at the doorway. Nami and Robin appeared at the doorway behind Usop as you looked on. Their expression was confused as they looked at Usop. Once they looked through the doorway they smiled. Law’s teeth clenched and he growled. Your breasts were blocked by your arms and Law had fortunately just covered your naked waists. Your crew couldn’t see everything, but they knew what was up.

In one fluid motion, Law rolled you off him and sat up. Protecting your naked form by sitting up in front of you. You gripped onto his waist and scooted closer to him, hoping his body was fully covering you. Law’s hand rested on your waist behind him, keeping you in place.

“Strawhat!” Law yelled.

Luffy turned his head to look at you and Law. A big grin formed on his face. His expression was innocent. You closed your eyes and blushed.

“Hey Traffy! Hey Y/N! Heard you were taking a nap, sorry to interrupt. Usop and I were playing tag and well… I thought I could hide in here and trick him by pretending I was taking a nap too.” Luffy said as he rubbed his head and looked at the clothes laying next to the bed. “Wait… why are your clothes on the floor?” Luffy asked.

“Luffy, I told you to stay away from here! Leave Y/N and Traffy alone. They are strategizing about how to take down Doflamingo.” Nami said.

Nami walked into the room and grabbed Luffy by the ear. Usop continued to stand frozen in the doorway. Robin smiled as Nami dragged Luffy by the ear back to the entrance of the room. You gripped Law tighter hoping it would help recenter him and keep him from getting out of bed to kill Luffy and the rest of your crewmates.

“Ow Ow Ow!” Luffy screamed. 

“Strategizing?” Robin questioned with a soft laugh as her hand raised to her mouth.

“Hey what’s all the ruckus?” Franky questioned as he appeared in the doorway behind Nami, Luffy, Robin, and Usop.

Franky blushed and his eyes widened. Luffy sat at Nami’s feet clawing at her hand. As you looked on in horror, Zoro and Sanji appeared behind the group at the door. Zoro looked in the door and closed his eye, as he did a smirk grew on his face. Sanji looked in the doorway and blood shot out of his nose as he saw your clothes on the floor. His eyes filled with rage as he looked up to see Traffy. Law’s body tensed against yours as he looked on at the group in the doorway.

“Can’t a guy take a nap in peace around here?!” Law yelled.

Nami and the rest laughed.

“Good for you Traffy, you could use some stress relief.” Zoro said.

“TRAFFY! We leave you alone to nap and this is what you do?! Y/N-SWAN!...” Sanji started to yell, but was interrupted by Nami’s fist hitting him in the head.

“Well I think it’s super. Sorry we interrupted.” Franky replied.

“Come on boys. Shows over.” Robin said as she pulled Usop and Zoro from the doorway.

Nami dragged Sanji and Luffy away from the room. Franky gave a thumbs up and shut the door. You sighed and put your forehead against Law’s back. He panted as he stared at the closed door.

“I’m going to kill them. Every last one.” Law said sternly.

“Law it’s fine. Thankfully it wasn’t all of them and they didn’t see anything.” You replied with a sigh.

“How can you be so calm about this, how do you survive with this band of lunatics?”

You laughed as you placed your chin on his shoulder and traced the tattoos on his arm. Law’s hand moved to your thigh. He continued to stare at the doorway as you started to kiss his shoulder. 

“The good news is, now we can be as loud as we want.” You replied with a chuckle as you stopped kissing his arm to give him a cheesy grin. “I would like to get back to strategizing.”

Law looked over his shoulder at you and a small grin formed on his face. Law turned and grabbed your wrists, lying you back against the mattress, and pinning you to the bed. Your breath caught in your chest as you looked up at him. A large grin formed on his face.

“Want me to fuck you loud enough for your whole crew to hear… you naughty girl… I think that can be arranged.” 

Law pressed his lips against briefly.  His lips then began interspersing kisses and bites down your body. Some were soft and other bites were hard, you knew the hard ones would leave a mark. Law certainly didn’t care anymore, the crew already knew what was going on, now he was laying claim to you. He pulled the blanket over his head as his kisses and bites traveled down your abdomen to your hips. At your hips, he paused, adjusting to nestle his head between your thighs. His lips slowly brushed against your inner thighs. He occasionally bit down as his lips trailed from your mid-thigh to your core. At your core, he brought his lips close and let you feel his warm breath upon your wet folds. His teasing made your hips buck with need. Then, he lifted the cover from over his head, and his golden eyes met yours. 

Law grabbed your legs and tossed them over his shoulders. Your knees bent over his arms, causing your feet to rest on the bed. Law rested his head at your entrance, you felt a shiver run up your spine as Law let out another exhale at your entrance. He grinned as he gazed up at you. Your pants grew longer as you stared at him sitting in front of your entrance. Your hands gripped the sheets beneath you as you watched Law lick his lips.

“So needy for me and so wet all for me.  What a good girl.” Law praised. “Maybe you deserve a reward?” Law questioned.

“Yes.” You replied weekly.

You nodded aggressively. Your tits bounced as you did His eyes remained locked on yours as his tongue finally swiped at your entrance. Your legs tightened over his shoulders at the feeling of his tongue against you. One of your hands lifted from the sheet beneath you to reach for his hair. He laughed against your folds as your finger began clutching at his dark messy locks. His tongue trailed up your folds and swiped at your clit. Your feet came together behind Law’s head as he started drawing shapes with his tongue against your clit. 

“Law.”

His arms clenched harder around your thighs as he pulled your hips closer to his lips. His tongue trailed back to your entrance doing a few swipes up and down your slick folds before entering you. His tongue entered you,  exploring your depths as you clenched around him. Your hips bucked against his face, resulting in Law gripping your thighs tighter still. His tongue dove deeper into you before returning to dance upon your g-spot. You moaned as you felt ecstasy begin to build in your stomach. Both your hands tangled in Law’s hair as your hips tried to fight his hold.

“Law. I’m close.” You moaned.

Law removed his tongue from your folds, placing a kiss upon them as he did. His eyes met yours as you started to pant harder and harder. His lips moved to your clit, he kissed it gently, then sucked and batted at it with his tongue. You moaned needily as  Law returned to taking vertical licks between your folds ending with swipes upon your clit. After a few of these he fervently began to suck and swipe at your clit, sending you over the edge.

“LAWWW.” You screamed loudly as your pelvis bucked against his face and fingers clenched tighter in his hair.

Your juices dripped out of your entrance and Law greedily lapped them up. You panted hard, closing your eyes as you came down from your high. Your fingers loosened their grip in Law’s hair as you tried to catch your breath. You stroked his head as he planted kisses back up your belly and chest until he reached your lips. As he moved up your skin your fingers fell from his head to his back. Once face to face with you, he tenderly kissed you and gently rested one hand upon your waist and the other next to your head, on the bed. You lazily opened your eyes and looked at him as he pulled his lips from yours. 

“Such a good girl for me.” Law whispered.

Your hands slid down his back to the hardened member that now rested against your abdomen. You stroked up and down his member a few times, stopping to thumb at his tip that was covered in pre-cum. He grunted as you did. 

“Need to feel you inside me.” You said as your eyes darted from his length to his golden/gray eyes.

“So needy for me.” Law praised. 

Law removed his length from your grasp and lowered it to your entrance. With one hand still above your head, his gaze locked on your eyes. His other hand rubbed his length up and down your folds. As it moved, you started to pant, your feet slid your hips wider across the mattress, waiting for him to enter you. You moaned as Law began to tease your entrance with pressure from his tip. You tightened your grip on his back as he gently pushed into you. Law started to pant as clenched around his length. Once you relaxed, he began to push further into you. You closed your eyes tightly as he pushed further and further into you, he was big, so it was a lot at first, but he paused between pushes to allow you to adjust. Once fully in you, your walls clenched around him and his teeth clenched at the sweet sensation. 

“You okay, Y/N?” Law asked.

“Yeah. I’ve never felt this full. Feels good.” You replied as your hips squirmed under him wanting to feel more.. 

You nodded as your eyes flicked open to meet his gaze. His lips sloppily slammed against yours as he began thrusting in and out of you. Law’s lips trailed to nibble at your ear, causing you to moan as his thrusting pace quickened. 

“So tight for me. You take me so well.” 

“Law.” You moaned as his lips moved to catch your nipple between his teeth. 

Your hands clawed at his back as he got on his knees and lifted your hips with his tattooed hands. Your hips bucked as Law continued to thrust into you, the new position allowing Law’s length to dive deeper into you. You started to drool and your eyes rolled back in your head as Law pounded you harder. Another pound and you clenched around him, feeling his length twitch within your walls. Your hand reaches down to your belly to feel Law’s length deep inside you as he dove into you again. You moaned as you felt the heat building in your belly once again.

“Law going to…”

“Me too. Just hang on. Almost there.”

“LAWW...” You moaned with a gulp.

Law pounded into you faster and harder than before. The bed shook against the wall as you took him. You reached for the headboard behind you and held on for dear life. You moaned loudly, not afraid of who heard you because you were near ecstasy.

“Law!” You yelled, grip tightening around the headboard as your back arched.

“Now.” Law yelled through a grunt.

“LAWWWWW!” You moaned as he bottomed out in you.

Law slammed into you once more causing your heat to burst into ecstasy, your juices dripped down your thighs as he continued to pound into you through your climax. Your eyes hung half-lidded as he grunted and his length twitched harder within you. You clenched down again and felt a heat burst within your walls. He grunted through it.

“Y/N.” He moaned softly.

The two of you panted, bodies still interlocked. Law gently pulled his length from you and set your hips back on the bed. You reached for him and he fell on the bed next to you. You scooted across the bed closer to him until your nose rested beside his and your lips were parted between his, close, but not touching. With your hand on his chest, the two of you laid side by side trying to catch your breath. Once his heart stopped beating so fast, Law wrapped an arm around your waist and put his tattooed hand over the one that laid on his chest. Your eyes fluttered open and met his gray-gold orbs. 

“Hopefully, that will help you sleep.” You whispered breathily.

“Sleep? Oh yeah… guard duty tonight. Dressrosa tomorrow.” Law said. “I think Strawhat owes us another “nap” on guard duty tonight.”

“Agreed.” You replied with a smile. 

Law kissed you and pulled you deeper into his chest. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the top of yours. The two of you slowly drifted to sleep.

[darlingsfandom]

If your free (it's ok when your busy and need rest 😁 take care)

When Tommy and changretta reader have their first child a daughter . The little girl reminded Tommy of his late daughter ruby he's soft with her (plus protective) y/n can tell after he told her about what happened . He's got a chance with a daughter again it went well she's a daddy's girl with y/n can't stop smiling how her daughter makes Tommy soft to protective

I was going to make this a blurb but I decided to headcanon it instead!

•Tommy is 100% a girl dad!

•When he found out you were pregnant he actually cried ! He couldn’t believe it at first but after going to the doctor with you he was still in shock!

•it took a few tries to get you pregnant but he wasn’t complaining one bit on that!

•He got Arthur and John to help him set up the nursery which was a light pink!

•The whole family gave you a huge baby shower! Spoiled you with little dresses, shoes and even a cap to match Tommy’s!

•after you had your daughter Tommy instantly fell in love with her! She had your eyes and his nose! And more hair than John ! That was a Tommy joke.

•The first couple of months were hard for the both of you. The sleep schedule was trash. You couldn’t get out of bed, Tommy missed Ruby at times because this was his second daughter but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love her any less.

•Her name ? Lillian Polly Shelby ! Of course she’s gotta be named after aunt Polly! Everyone called her Lilly for short.

•Tommy helped her take her first steps! He was a little salty her first word was Mama but she soon learned dada afterwards.

•When she was actually talking in short sentences she did really well. Tommy was in a meeting when she came in running around yelling “fuck!” All the men laughed including Tommy. He’d tell her that’s a grown up word to which she’d argue how he uses it all the time and so does mommy !

•on her fifth birthday Tommy gave her a locket that a picture of you and him in it! She loved that locket and wore it everywhere !!

•One her first day of school she came home upset because she missed the two of you! That night Tommy read her a bedtime story twice!

•As she got older she started noticing boys and Tommy did not like that ! She brought home a boy to study and Tommy made sure to keep his gun out to scare the boy and it worked.

•Lilly came home crying one day from school because a group of girls told her she’s ugly and that boiled his blood! He talked to his daughter about how looks don’t matter and its brains! He talked about how he fell in love with you and not just because you’re pretty but because you’re smart, funny, a good kisser to which she made a face ! Tommy got her to laugh !

•Soon enough his baby girl was graduating and going off to uni! He paid her for to go. She decided to go for business because she wanted to be like Tommy just not as violent!

•she’d visit on breaks and Tommy would always send her back to school with a little letter to remind her of home.

•Lilly met a boy! She brought him home one day and Tommy tested him in every way possible. He did not approve! Tommy knew the boy only liked her because of her name and money!

•He comforted Lilly. When she went back to study she focused hard and graduated top of her class.

•A few years later she did meet a boy that Tommy approved of! He even shook the boys hand the night they met! Pretty soon it was wedding day.

•Tommy held onto Lilly’s arm tightly doing his best to hold back his tears but it was impossible and started crying when he said “Her mother and I do!” And sat down next to you as he watched his little girl get married.

•When Tommy found out he was going to be a grandpa he about died! He was excited !

•When Lilly had the baby, she had a boy and named him Benjamin Thomas ! Tommy cried hearing that his grandson had his name! Tommy had lived a beautiful life .

[femmeanonymelives]

Isn't it lovely? (Santiago Garcia x OC)

Santiago Garcia x Singer/Songwriter!OC

Mentioned platonic Frankie Morales x OC

(Santiago refers to her as the nickname "Songbird," but real name is Valerie) Inspired by the song "Lovely" by Billie Eilish (with Khalid)

Series Masterlist

Ari's note: This is pure angst and fluff. Some adult language, usage of alcohol and some spoilers for Triple Frontier. This song somehow keeps showing up on my Spotify rotation. It is very beautiful and heartbreaking. I wanted to write something that deals with this song and somehow it reminds me of Santi.

The rain putters on the window seal. 

Seattle.

 The warm air fills the room with comfort from the cold, rainy weather outside. Started playing with the keys of the keyboard that someone that I loved bought me for my birthday. Pulls out a small yellow notebook with song lyrics. A familiar tone that I used to play around with when we hang out together.

“Happy Birthday, songbird. You can finally become the real Piano Man,” he joked before taking another gulp of beer as he played with my then-shaggy, long black hair. It was my birthday a few years earlier. A few days before the boys went down to South America and fucked shit up there. Santi hosted the festivities at his house. The boys, their partners, and a few of our mutual friends met up and had dinner. Santi wanted to make his present special. 

“Honestly, Frankie could have made that joke, but you honestly made the joke somehow shittier,” laughs softly as I play my legs in his lap. He gives the classic “you know you love me” smirk as he gives me a soft kiss.

“Frankie would have requested Sweet Caroline, but knowing you,” he holds my chin in his hand as he makes look at him in his sweet brown eyes, “you would be performing in stadiums soon, not in a bar. I will be by your side when you headline your first show.”

I moved to Seattle a few years back after the guy I last loved left me for a trip that, according to him, “broke him from the inside out.” I did music before I met him. Choir and piano lessons since I was six. If you are talking to my mother about my musical talents, she blames my father who was a musician that performed at the family bar. Started writing some wanderlust type songs, but never really got anywhere in Florida.

Frankie was the one who introduced us. I am the girl “who can sing Taylor Swift better than Taylor Swift without making it annoying.” He was the pain in the ass that Frankie would constantly tell him to ask me out. He saw I brought out a softer side to Santi, even though Santi is a horrible singer.

When he broke it off with me, he blamed how the fucked the mission was from the beginning, how Tom fucking died, how he was worried what was going to happen to him and his squad, and he was worried how we was going to explain this to me. He wanted his share of the money to go to me so we could move and start my music career.

“Songbird, I fucking love you but I need you to understand that I am doing this to set you free. You don’t need me anymore. I am sorry.” He kissed me like this was the last kiss that he was going to ever take with me. Four years of passion, long-distance phone calls, and stale beer thrown away like Tom’s body near the Andes.

That was the last time I saw him. 

Three Years Later

I am back in humid Florida, visiting family and Frankie and performing at a local music venue. I step up on stage. Getting a warm welcome from my hometown crowd. Under the bright stage, I see Frankie and the boys… and then I see him.. Drinking a Bud Light in one hand, and wearing an old baseball cap. His hair and stubble is more gray. He looks tired, not wanting to be there. Worried that Frankie brought him to a trap. I move towards the piano and start playing the song that somehow people are recognizing themselves to. My soft, yet powerful alto voice sings the lyrics when I was alone by myself in Seattle.

“Thought I found a way

Thought I found a way out (found)

But you never go away (never go away)

So I guess I gotta stay now

Oh, I hope someday I'll make it out of here

Even if it takes all night or a hundred years

Need a place to hide, but I can't find one near

Wanna feel alive, outside I can't fight my fear

Isn't it lovely? All alone

Heart made of glass, my mind of stone

Tear me to pieces, skin to bone

Hello, welcome home”

As I look up into the crowd, I stare into his eyes like I did years ago. Making me realizing that the song is hurting him the same way he hurt me all of those years prior. I tried to focus on anyone, but him. Tears swell up as I think of us at our happiest as I sing aloud.

“Walking out of time

Looking for a better place 

Something's on my mind

Always in my head space

But I know someday I'll make it out of here

Even if it takes all night or a hundred years

Need a place to hide, but I can't find one near

Wanna feel alive outside I can't fight my fear

Isn't it lovely? All alone

Heart made of glass, my mind of stone

Tear me to pieces, skin to bone

Hello. Welcome home

Whoa, yeah

Yeah, ah

Whoa, whoa

Hello, welcome home”

I hear a mass applause from the crowd as I quickly wipe my tears as I look towards the crowd.

 I see Santi and Frankie gone. I focused on the rest of my set that focused on songs from my album and a few covers of Fleetwood Mac.

After the show, I head backstage towards my dressing room. I see Santi standing there, mad and regretful at what he did to me. His knuckles are bloody, which he fought with Frankie in the parking lot. 

“Songbird, listen to me-”

“Don’t… just don’t call me.. the bullshit you pulled forfeits the right to call me that.”

“Valerie, I am sorry. I fucked up. I should have told you the truth from the beginning.”

“Santi, it is not that… you fucked up this relationship by using Tom’s fucking death for a reason to end it… That is not a good enough excuse for me. Why are you here?”

“When Frankie told me that you were coming into town, I was scared shitless. The money was for you.”

“Santiago Garcia, don’t be fucking with me about this. The one time I see you are telling more bullshit.”

“Val, that money for you and I to spend a life together.” He takes a deep sigh and runs his fingers through his hair. “That money was for you to actually start your career.”

“Bullshit… absolute bullshit! Stop lying to me just to save your own ass.” He grabs my arm and pulls me back in my dressing room. He locked the door.

“That song.. You wrote that about us…”

“I was hurting. Frankie was the only of you assholes to reach out.” Santiago is shocked; he knew Frankie and I were close, but never knew the impact that our relationship had. “Ben couldn’t even look me in the face when I saw him in Seattle.”

“So you wrote a fucking break-up song, Val? I know I was a dick by how I treated you, but I am telling the truth” He sounds more hurt than angry. The song made him seem like the biggest asshole in the world.

“I wrote it because you left me the minute you came back. I was angry. I was in a town by myself, wishing you called and said that you made a fucking mistake, but you didn’t.” Santi grabs me by my now-long dyed red hair and kisses me like he did three years earlier.

“I love you, Val.. and I am sorry for what I did.” 

I walked out of the door; not being able to stay there another second without crying. As I head to my rental car after grabbing my stuff, tears stream down my eyes as I whisper to myself in the car, “I love you too.”

[dragonmuse]

Could we have a Izzy and Charlie hangout from Charlie’s perspective when he’s a teen and starting to get a crush and hide it?

(nearly two months later, you sure can Anon!)

They were hiking through a park, not far from the Bonnet family home. Charlie had been there several times with his boy scout troop back when he still did that, but he was fifteen now and that was behind him. These days he only got to go out when Izzy offered and he would leap on the chances like a ravenous wolf.

(There would come a day when it would be Charlie reaching out, making offers himself and it would’ve pleased his teenage self immensely to know that he was rarely turned down. That there would be someone else with them, dark curly hair jammed under a cap would’ve baffled him.)

It hadn’t rained in a few days, so the leaves were crunchy underfoot, marking their passage. Their packs were light, no overnight things required. Izzy was wearing a fisherman’s sweater, black and intricately patterned. His shoulders shifted underneath them and Charlie forced himself to keep pace so he wasn’t falling behind to watch that movement.

Their breath came in matching draws, not labored, but not at easy conversation either. It was only when they reached the pinnacle of the hill they’d been gradually rising over for some time, that Izzy inclined his head and Charlie nodded.

They found a wide stump and both sat down on it, taking off their packs and reaching for water. Izzy drank, throat bobbing and Charlie watched sidelong as he drank his own. A breeze came through, rattling the leaves.

“Your mother said you got on the swim team.”

“Wasn’t hard,” Charlie capped his bottle. “My times suck right now if I want to win anything.”

“No one starts off winning,” Izzy shrugged.

“Did you play sports in high school?”

“No,” Izzy snorted. “Might’ve liked it if I did, but you couldn’t tell me shit back then.”

“What’d you do after school then?”

“Worked. Fucked around. Got in trouble.”

Charlie wondered what Izzy had looked like. It was hard to imagine the man without the manicured facial hair and deep lines.

“Is that why you didn’t go to college?”

Izzy took another drink of water then shook his head. “Would’ve needed a reason to go, not a reason not to. Lots of kids in my neighborhood didn’t. Faith might’ve though.”

“Who’s Faith?”

“Girlfriend. Met her when I was your age, actually. Jesus fuck, what a child I was.”

“Hey,” Charlie protested, but not too hard. He wanted to hear more.

“Trust me, you’re a fucking kid. Nothing wrong with it.”

There were a few things wrong with it to Charlie’s mind. An adult might get to say things a kid couldn’t for instance, but Charlie shoved that to one side.

“You had a girlfriend?” He asked instead.

“Why does everyone say it like that?” Izzy groaned. “Yeah, I did.”

“What was she like?”

“Smart. Real smart. Good at math. Shy. Didn’t talk very much unless it was just the two of us.”

Charlie could picture that easily. He didn’t like to talk much in school himself. Enough not to be weird, but not enough to draw attention. He wondered if anyone would describe him as shy, years from now. Probably not. It sounded nice though.

“When did you break up?”

“Didn’t.”

“Uh...”

“She died.”

“Oh,” Charlie winced. “Sorry.”

“You didn’t know,” Izzy waved that away.

“Wait...she died when? Like how long were you together?” He pictured a tragic twenty-five or six year old Izzy losing his childhood sweetheart. Like a movie his mother would watch when she thought no one else was around.

“Nearly three years. She was a month out from eighteen.”

Alma was eighteen. And Charlie wasn’t oblivious, he knew teenagers could die. Of course it happened. But eighteen was so close. He imagined someone he knew in school right now just being dead in three years. Not seeing graduation.

“That’s horrible.”

“Long time ago now.”

“Still. I’m sorry.”

Izzy bumped his shoulder into Charlie’s, “History.”

Flustered, Charlie kicked at a rock, watched it bounce back down the hill through the trees until it disappeared in the underbrush.

“This swimming thing,” Izzy said as if there’d been no pause in the discussion. “You going to have competitions?”

“Yeah. Meets. First one isn’t until February though. Up against other local high schools. There’s a regional in March. That’s the big deal, but I won’t be ready for it yet.”

“You don’t know that. Lots of hours between then and now.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Ready?”

“Mhm.”

They didn’t talk the rest of the way out, nor for most of the way back. Charlie liked it that way. Izzy was great at silence, unbothered by it as far as Charlie could tell. It was only when they were back in Izzy’s car that they started talking about books and words flowed between them.

In the darkness of his room that night, Charlie thought about Izzy’s shoulder brushing his own. The way he’d talked about his loss so simply, but with such depth in his voice. It seemed wrong to enjoy that, to like the burr when his voice caught on the word ‘shy’.  

He forgot about the rest of it until months later. Dad and Eddy, Mom and Pop, all turned out for his first regional match and it had been nice to see them all lined up and trying to get along in the stands. What he hadn’t expected as Izzy to show too, sitting next to Mom as if he belonged there. When Charlie caught his eye, Izzy just gave him one solemn nod.  

Seconds later, Charlie was diving into the water and he swam to his first of many victories.

[bakumu]

this can't be happening

dilf!bakugou x reader

wc: 1.3k

summary: now that the school year is done and you are no longer the teacher to dynamight’s child you'll finally have the chance to be together. cw: dilf bakugou, teacher reader, pining

a/n: i wrote this a while ago and just never posted. oops. enjoy :)

minors do not interact. this work contains mature themes and if you continue reading you have agreed you are willing to see such content

You stand by the side of the stage, watching the children you've been teaching for the last year receive their diplomas one by one. 

Sure, it's only kindergarten graduation, but this is a big step for them! 

You've made it through your first year of teaching: a whole year of screaming, fights, and snot-nosed little, rich brats thinking that they are better than you. Well… almost all of them. 

Bakugou Hideo was your saving grace this year. A perfect angel of a student, especially considering his father’s loud and boastful persona. Who would have thought that a man who seems so brash and angry would have a son who followed every rule, did all his homework, and even helped clean up the classroom during recess?

Maybe it was the fact that you got to know Hideo before you ever met the pro-hero, but as soon as you laid eyes on Dynamight, you couldn't stop the hammering of your heart in your chest. Watching his gruff expression morph into a soft smile for his son would melt your heart until every part of you was dripping.

After all the one-on-one parent-teacher conferences, caring emails about Hideo’s progress, and handwritten written letters sent home, you’ve built up quite a rapport with Mr. Bakugou. 

But there's one thing standing in the way of your progress.

His wife.

You see her face in the news more than you see his, because of course, she just has to be a hero too. Everything about her radiates an annoying air of confidence. When she appears in interviews she knows exactly what to say, exactly who to schmooze, and frankly, you're sick of her. 

Who cares if she's the number ten hero? It's not like she is number two, like dreamy Dynamight. She's just a double-digit loser. 

She's never once come to a school pick-up, never shown her face at the parent-teacher meetings for bettering the classroom. She really is the worst pro-hero parent you've ever seen.

On top of that, you bet that she doesn't even have any time for her own husband. How would she be able to please him when she spends all her time away from home? He’s a big strong man with needs that you're sure aren't being met by the likes of her. He needs someone who can match him sexually, who is willing to submit to his every wish and desire. Someone a little younger who can show him all the things that he's missing.

He needs someone like you who will cater to his every whim. You'd treat him right: make his breakfast in the morning, make his dinner before he gets home, all while taking perfect care of his kids. 

You're already close to Hideo, it wouldn't be hard at all to make the transition from teacher to mother. 

You giggle to yourself at the thought of waking up this hulking man with your mouth wrapped around his cock, only to kiss his son on the head an hour later when you set his breakfast down on the table. That’s the dream.

After all, this plan of yours is one of the reasons you decided to become a kindergarten teacher. What better way to meet an attractive, upstanding man than to find one already with a brat to take care of? 

The final child accepts their diploma and, after a few final remarks, the gremlins are instructed to move their little tassel from one side of their pint-sized caps to the other. All of the kids have a smile on their faces, but one is outshining the others. Your favorite little boy Hideo.

His smile is so big and bright, and he's waving so hard with both of his hands that they look like they might fly right off into the crowd of parents.

You follow his line of sight and you're met with a sight that makes your stomach turn.

There she is, the mother to Dynamight’s child. She looks perfectly rushed; her hair is only a little out of place, the bag on her shoulder looks like it might slip at any second, and her perfectly perfect smile is only a little off kilter due to her panting breath. 

Dynamight kisses her temple, surely an act for their child, and in return, she whispers something in his ear that makes his face sour. 

Of course, she would show up late and ruin his mood. Today is supposed to be about Hideo, not about whatever problems she's bringing here.

The kids file off the stage one by one and down the stairs into the crowd of proud parents. Your eyes follow your favorite student as he jumps happily into his father's arms.

When the last student leaves the stage, you are joined by your fellow teachers who happily wave to their students. They make small talk amongst themselves, talking about how proud they are of their kids but it goes in one ear and out the other. You've always felt like an outsider to their little circle, but that's fine. You never planned on being here long anyways. 

With the best warm smile, you can muster plastered on your face, you excuse yourself and head into the crowd. You wave and make pleasantries as you pass your other students, but you keep your eyes trained on the Bakugous’.

You see Hideo’s smile when Bakugou tosses him in the air and gives him a kiss on the cheek, making the boy giggle in his hold. That’s the moment when Dynamight’s eyes land on yours. The air between you feels electrified, and you can feel your heartbeat in tandem with his. 

His expression shifts as he hands Hideo off to his wife, whispering in her ear while keeping his eyes glued on you. You’ve almost reached them when he ruffles Hideo’s hair, lips still moving until a scowl appears on the soon-to-be ex-wife’s face. She turns on her heels and walks out of the auditorium with Hideo. 

Finally, he's come to his senses, kicking her to the curb where she belongs.

You're just a few steps away from your future. Don't be nervous, stand tall and smile, you remind yourself. You wipe your sweaty hands on your pants before extending your hand to him for a handshake.

“Mr. Bakugou, I wanted to tell you that it was an honor to have—”

“It’s Mr. Dynamight to you.” He looks down at your hand but doesn’t reach for it. “We aren't close.” 

You let your hand fall to your side as your mind races. “You're right, I’m so sorry, Mr. Dynamight. I just wanted to say that it was such an honor to have Hideo in my class. He was—”

“I know what you've been trying to do.” He steps closer to you and, the anger in his voice grows with each word. “You're not as slick as you think you are. Your disgusting perfume-scented letters littered with innuendos and shittily drawn hearts couldn’t impress a two-year-old. And you think you have a chance with me? You? Grow the fuck up.”

Your face burns and you can feel the entire weight of the auditorium's gaze. All of his attention is on you but you can't even meet his eyes, instead looking down at your feet while you get scolded like a child.

“And have fun looking for a new job. I’ve already reported you to the administration,” he continues, his eyes hardening. “I better not ever see your fucking face ever again or else you're going to have more problems than just your job.”

Wait—he reported you… your mouth runs dry when he walks away from you. This can't be happening.

Hideo and Mrs. Bakugou are standing in the doorway with the head of the school district, and as Dynamight joins them, Hideo practically leaps into his arms. 

Arms that will never be yours.

[mrsparker3696]

𝚙𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛- 𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜

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

You stood in your kitchen finishing making food for dinner when Ben, your son came out of his room with his girlfriend.

"Oh hey, honey, max. You here exactly on time. I've just finished making food!"

Your son groaned and rolled his eyes.

He looked so much like peter...

God blessed him and he got his eyes, and his beautiful freckles and his sharp jaw,

Though he got you h/c hair and nose.

"MoOom!! Max need to go home and-"

"Actually I'd love to have dinner with you! If that's ok with you Mrs. Parker" his girlfriend stopped him, moving her gaze from him to you.

You smiled at her, she was a sweet girl who made your son happy, so "of course you can! You always welcome max!" You smiled sweetly at her.

"Please, call me y/n. And we'll just wait for Ben's father he should be home any-"

As in a sign peter walked in, grinning from ear to ear.

"I'm here! I'm here!! Sorry I'm late!!"

He walked over to you, warping his arms around your waist and kissing your cheek.

"hey there wife"

You rolled you eyes and turned around in his arms. "how was work? You came home smiling" you whispered.

"amazing, but I'll tell you later, I see we have a guest here"

He turned to max.

"Max! Good to see you"

She smiled at him and let go from Ben's hand. "Hi! Good to see you to Mr. Parker"

"Peter" he corrected her with a soft smile "why don't you go help y/n set the table?"

She quickly nodded and went help you.

Peter's pov:

"You really love her, don't you?" He asked his son, that looked at his laughing girlfriend.

Ben's eyes shoot at peter, his eyes wide and his cheeks red.

"How do you know?"

Peter chuckled and put a hand on Ben's shoulder.

"You look at her like Ben looked at may, like Tony looked at aunt pepper, like everyone telling me I look at your mother. It's love" he smiled, proud of his son.

He waved him off, looking back at max.

"I can't tell her yet. I don't think she's ready"

"you know, when I told your mom that I love her she kicked me in the guts. There's never good time and she'll always be ready"

Back to your pov:

You sat around the table, eating and chatting.

"So, y/n, peter how did you too meet? I know you're both were at the avengers"

Max asked, holding Ben's hand on the table.

"Oh no" Ben sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Be ready to a fairytale" he mumbled.

"Peter and I met thanks to my dad... Tony.

Peter just got his suit and I got mine,"

"Captain America and iron man went against eachother and y/n was at cap's side, for some reason" peter complete you and rolled his eyes.

You gave him a little nudge and cracked a smile.

"Anyway. Peter asked me out a few months later. When we were 15, after almost half a year to our relationship, I got pregnant with our little boy here" you winked at your son.

You could never ask for better life.

You were in a beautiful house, with your gorgeous husband who lived you and an amazing son.

You were so happy.

"but unlucky him, he got his dad's nerdy personality"

Ben blushed and groaned again.

"MoOoOM" he whined.

Max looked at him and gave him a little kiss on the cheek.

"and lucky you, I like nerds"

She looked back at you.

"You're the hottest parents in our class you know that? You got lucky B" she looked back at her boyfriend.

"Why thank you, max. And I know" peter winked..

"Thank you y/n, peter! I had a really great time tonight!" Max smiled when Ben walked her out.

"You too sweetie, I hope I'll see you soon!" You waved at her.

"So this went well" Peter's arm crawled to your waist, pulling you closer.

"Uh ha" you agreed, putting your hands around his neck.

You pulled his in, kissing him right on the lips.

He moved his hands down to your thighs.

You pushed him "our son is right outside. You should wait at least" you scrunched your nose.

"but we can keep this for later. Ya know, your still the hottest dad in 9th grade"

"Well, that's cause I'm married to the hottest mom in 9th grade" he pecked your lips making you smile even more.

Then, you heard the door open and Ben walked in, his whole mouth covered with a familiar pink lipstick, and a dreamy look in his eyes that matched his stupid big smile.

"Ben honey, you alright?" You narrowed your eyes.

"I told her that she's my y/n to my peter, and that I love her" he started "and she told me that she loves me back"

[raineydays411]

Thanks T

 Summary: A dad is supposed to be your rock. Someone you can go to when times are hard. Someone whos supposed to protect you. WHat happens when your dad doesn’t fit the bill, and Tony does?

A/n: Hello yall! So this story hit really close to home for me lmao. It was mentioned that there aren’t any good dad/step dad Tony fics so I hope you like it. Everyone thank @alphaandromedae97 and an anon for this fic. 

Hope yall enjoy!

Your life was complicated. 

How can it not be when Tony “billionaire playboy” Stark is your step dad. 

Yes you read that right, step dad. It’s funny really, turns out he has a thing for waitresses that aren’t interested in him at first. That waitress being your mom.

They met when she was working a shift at the restaurant she works at, and he came in with Avengers. He expected her to fall at their feet like everyone else did, but she just scoffed and asked for their order. Pretty epic. 

Then one long montage later, and they ended up getting married. You were happy for your mom, of course. Deep down, Tony is a good man and you knew he’d do anything for your mom. And he’s always been nice to you, making sure you were okay with him proposing and then you moving upstate with him and your mom. He always made sure you felt included, maybe a little too much. He actually took interest in your life, which you’ll always appreciate. 

But you were a total daddy's girl by heart. You always felt like you had a close relationship with your biological father. He was a good dad, he took you out to movies, went to recitals, and always made sure to take you to the father-daughter dance your school district put on every year. It was your tradition. But after your parents divorced a few years ago, it seemed like he was getting more and more distant from you. He stopped calling as much, would skip out on your days to visit him and when you did visit, he’d lock himself in his office, claiming he had to finish some paperwork. It broke your heart, knowing that a man you were so close with, seems to be detaching himself from your life. But, in his defence he always managed to take you to the father-daughter dance. He always did. No matter how long the both of you went without seeing each other, no matter how long you haven’t spoken, he always made sure to take you. 

That act alone, reassured you that he did still love you. He was just busy. In fact, you were getting ready to go to the final father-daughter dance, as you were going to graduate this year and therefore you would be too old to attend the next year. This year was especially important to you. You wanted this night to be perfect. 

And you were positive your father would pull through as he has the past years.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were filled with excitement as you tried on multiple different dresses. You always liked this part of getting ready, the dress shopping. 

The confidence you feel when you finally found the right dress. The happy feeling you and your mother had, browsing through the dress shop downtown. Tony offered to buy you a custom designer dress, but you couldn’t accept. This was the shop you’ve been going to since you were a little girl, since you went to your very first dance with your dad. Call it nostalgia or tradition, but you couldn’t shop anywhere else. 

“ Hey ma! I think I found the one.” You shout from the dressing room, finally finding your dress after hours of searching. 

“Come out here and let’s see bug” She replies from where shes seated. You take a deep breath, soothing the wrinkles on the dress and walking outside. Your mother gasps as she see the gown. It was beautiful really. It was a glittery, lilac purple floor length dress with spaghetti straps. And it even had pockets! You were absolutely obsessed. Plus, you could probably use it as a prom dress if you really wanted to.

“Oh baby...you look so beautiful...” You mom says, tearing for the millionth time. 

“Ma, are you crying again?!” You laugh, “ Come on, that's the fifth time you’ve cried since we’ve been in the store!”

She laughs with you, sniffling as she wipes her tears,” I’m sorry, but you’re getting so big, it feels like it was only yesterday we were walking in this shop to get your first dress...and now...” She starts to cry again.

You smile softly, understanding what your mom was saying. You were in kindergarten when you first started attending these meetings, now you’re a senior in highschool. 

“Alright, no more crying. It’s a happy day for you. Has your father called texted you when he was going to come pick you up?” Your mom asked wiping her tears.

You frown, “ No, I haven;’t hear from him since two weeks ago when he said he wanted to get lunch.”

You can see your mom roll her eyes in the mirror, “ Mom he’s just busy. I’m sure he’ll call when he can.”

“Oh sure, I just hate that he doesn’t answer you fast enough.”

“I know ma, but he has work” You argue, “ He calls when he can, and that's okay.”

Your mom sighs, knowing that you were stubborn when it comes to your father. 

“ Well, let’s get this wrapped, Tony wants to get lunch and we need to convince him to get something other than shawarma.” 

You roll your eyes, “ God, what’s with that man and shawarma. It’s like his life line or something”

“I know!”

After the two of you buy the dress, you pick up Tony from the HQ. You loved the drive up there,mainly because of the scenery, but also cause you can see Cap running laps outside.

“Hell my love, hey kiddo” Tony greets switching seats with your mom.

‘Hey T” You greet, smiling at the man. 

“Did you find the dress?” He asks, driving away from his place of work and to a restaurant. 

“Yeah! It’s like the one I told you I wanted. I was surprised it was there to be honest.” You reply, “ Mom practically dehydrated herself shopping though.”

“Oh? How many times did she cry this time? Cause she was crying earlier when she was getting read-- OW! Hey I’m driving” He exclaims as your mom swats his arm.

You giggle at their antics, chest warming with the sight of your mom happy again.

“She cried five times while we were shopping. Five!”

“Five? I didn’t know the human body had that much water.”

The two of you chuckled as your mom made an offended noise.

“I hate that the two of you get on so well.” She pouts, “ And excuse me if I’m a little sad my baby is growing up so fast.”

You tune out the rest of their conversation as your phone buzzes. 

Dad

Hey kid, I’m gonna have to meet you at the school tomorrow. I have a meeting that’s gonna run late.

You

Okay daddy, I’ll see you there <3

You frown, your dad always managed to pick you up from the house. He used to take you to eat before the dance. And he always used to take the day off, devoting his time to you.

“ Uh oh, someone's frowning back there.” Tony remarks, “ What’s wrong kiddo, did a character off that show you like die/”

“Uh no, ma do you think you can drop me off at the dance tomorrow? Dad said he has a late meeting and won’t be able to pick me up.”

Your mother makes eye contact with Tony. They both know how your father has been flaking on you and how it breaks your heart that he does. It makes Tony especially mad because it remind him of his childhood. How his father really didn’t pay attention to him unless he was criticizing  his life choices.

“ Hey y/n, I can drop you off if you want.” Tony offers, “ I really don’t mind.”

You smile, “Thanks T.” 

“No problem kid.”

And with that he pulls into the restaurant parking lot. 

As your family is seated, you take a quick look around the restaurant, wanting to see the reactions of the patrons when they realize Tony Stark is in the building. But as you do, you see a man who looks very familiar. But before you can take a closer look your mom interrupts you.

“Y/n, you know it's rude to stare.”

“Oh sorry mom.” 

So you take a seat and continue with your meal. You tune out your mother and Tony’s conversation as you can’t take your mind off of that man. You take a quick glance back while your parents discuss the dessert menu.

That’s when you realize that the man was your father!

You stand up from the table and make your way towards the man. Surprised to see him there because as far as you know, he’s supposed to be in a meeting right now.

“Daddy?” You ask cautiously. The man tenses up before turning to you.

“Y/n? Honey what are you doing here?” You notice he doesn’t make an attempt to get up and hug you. 

And you also notice the second plate of food across from him and a napkin stained with what looked like lipstick.

“Um, T and Ma wanted to grab dinner.. I thought you were at a meeting?”

“This is a five star restaurant, and you just stopped in?” He asks ignoring your question, “ Of course Stark did..”

You wanted to roll your eyes. Everytime your mother was even close to being happy, your dad always found something wrong with the person she was with. But he seemed to have a strong disliking towards Tony for some reason.

“Um right...So you told me you were in a meeting? That’s why I couldn’t come over after dress shopping?”

“Right! A meeting...I’m currently in right now.” He says quickly looking towards the women's bathroom, “ You should go back to your table hon, my boss is really strict”

“Oh right, sorry” You say dejected, “ I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” your dad says with a soft smile, “ I love you Bug.”

You smile at the nickname your parents gave you, “ I love you too pop.” 

And with that you walk off, back to your mother and Tony. You can see they’re trying to hide the fact that they were watching by covering their face with the dessert menus.

“Oh here you are, we got you a tiramisu” Tony says nonchalantly, pushing the dessert towards you.

“Uh huh” You hummed teasingly, “ Dad says hi by the way.” 

“ Oh does he now?” You mom said not convinced, “ That’s nice of him.”

You hummed, mouthful of cake signaling that you were done with the conversation. Your family finished up their meals and signaled for the check. As you were walking out the restaurant, you turned to say goodbye to your dad, only to see his “boss” was back from the restroom.

Only this boss was a 5′3, brunette bombshell in a tight red dress and having her neck kissed by the man you call your father. 

Your stomach felt sick.

“Oh gross, I really didn’t need to see that.” You mutter catching the attention of Tony who was behind you. 

“See what kid?” He asks following your gaze, “Oh. Yikes is that even allowed? I didn’t know your dad was a vampire.”

You snort, “ Oh god T, that's disgusting.” 

He just laughs and pats your head, “ Come on, lets go before your mom yells at us.”

You smile, but you wondered why your dad didn’t tell you that he was on a date. Or that he was even seeing someone?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thoughts of your fathers secrets where wiped from your brain as you scrambled to get ready for the dance the next day.

Tony surprised you and your mom with a mani-pedi day at 10am and a hair appointment for you at 1pm. After you had to get shoes for your dress at the mall and then be home by 5pm to get your dress and makeup on, take pictures, and then be out the door by 7pm to take pictures with your dad, then finally be at the dance by 8pm when doors open. 

The whole day you were messaging your dad about how excited you are, getting similar replays back. He pays for you shoes and complements your hair. 

Your heart swells as you think about how hard it was in the beginning of the divorce. But your father always tried his best to spend time with you and made sure you knew he loved you.  

It was hard on you at first, but you appreciate that he tried for you. The fact that he’s been taking you to this dance since you were a little girl is proof enough. You were a little sentimental, this was your last dance after all. 

You smiled looking at yourself in the mirror. You looked beautiful in your dress. Your makeup was done to perfection and you had gotten a silk press in your hair. You felt like a princess.  You heard your mom sniffle.

“Mom, again?” You laugh,turning to face her.

“I’m sorry! You just look so beautiful!” she says with a sad smile, “ God, you grew up so fast bug” 

You roll your eyes, but feel the tears spring to your eyes as well, “ Ma! Stop I can’t ruin my make up” 

You both laugh as you fan your eyes

“You ready?” She asks, “ Tony’s waiting for you in the living room.”

You nod, gathering your things and walking out the door. You let your mom walk down the stairs first. You can hear Tony and you assume Happy in the living room. You finally make it down the stairs. It turns out it was Tony, Happy, and Peter Parker. Your mom was chatting with them and they all had their back turned to you. 

“Ahem.” You clear your throat, catching their attention.

You see Peter stiffen as he gazes at you and mutters a soft “Wow”

You blush, what can you say he’s a cutie.

 Happy gives you a comforting smile.

 And Tony?

He has a soft look on his face, “ Jeez kid, you clean up well.” 

You laugh, “ Better than you old man, what's up with the pants?”

He had on Iron Man pj pants.

“Oh hush.” He laughs, “ You look beautiful kiddo.” 

You look down with a grin.

“Oh pose for some pictures!” You mom says excitedly, “ Go Y/n, by your self first and then with me. Then with Tony.”

You sigh, knowing how long it was gonna take.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally after three million pictures, your mom and Tony drove you to the school.

“Okay bug, is your dad here?” Your mom asks looking around at the group. 

“Yeah! He should be inside.” You say kissing your mom goodbye and waving to Tony. You show the ticket and waltz in the gym. 

You smile and wave at classmates and parents. These people you’ve known since you were a child and who knew you. You finally got to the table you always sat at woth your dad. 

It was empty.

You frown and look at your phone.

Me

On my way pop!

It said the message was read.

“He must be on  driving” You think to yourself as you sat at the table.

But then twenty minutes passed. Then an hour. then two

You were still there, waiting for your dad to come. You sent five messages and they all remained unopened. 

You looked around the gym, seeing a few parents looking at you with pity in their eyes. You can barely stand it.

You got up and went to the restroom, trying not to cry. and in the restroom you tried calling you father, but you were sent to voicemail. The you finally got a message. 

Dad

“I’m so sorry bug, I can’t make it to the dance. I have a meeting today. :(”

You felt dejected. Humiliated. 

Your father has rearranged visitation days, skipped out on little crimonied and rectitals you’ve had, but this by far was the most disappointing thing he has done. 

He promised multiple times that he’d be here. Never has he ever skipped out on the dance before.  ANd he knew how important this was to you. Thi was your last dance, and he ruined it. 

You let yourself cry. You sobbed as you realized that your father has been distancing himself from you. That your relationship hasn’t been okay for a while. And you just didn’t want to let go.

You sigh as you realize you’ve been in the restroom for a while. You stand up and look at your face. Despite the red eyes and slightly red nose, your make up was pretty much intact.

“Huh at least my setting spray hasn’t let me down.” You say to your self. After a few mintues of calming down, you walk out of the restroom and bump into a figure. 

“Sorry” you mutter about to pass the person. 

“Gee you took a while in there, I told you not to get that coffee kid.” 

You quickly look up and se Tony.

Dressed in a suit, flowers in hand.

“Hey kid.” He says softly

“what..what are you doing here?” You whisper, tears filling your eyes again.

“Well apparently you need an rent a dad, and I happened to be in the neighborhood.” He jokes, then says, “ I’m sorry your dad didn’t come kiddo, and I know I’m not him, and quite frankly I’m glad I’m not. But I do love you like you’re my own, and well...yeah here I am.”

You stay quiet, looking at Tony in wonder. Touched that he did this for you.

“Of course if you just want to leave then we can just get out of here” He rambles nervously, “ But you gotta tell me kid cause I’m kinda freaking out.”

“Can we get ice cream after?” You ask him

“What?”

“After the dance, we should go get ice cream.” 

“Uh sure?” Tony says, “So what do you usually do at these things?” 

You laugh and steer him to the tables where they have all the activities at. You actually have more fun with him than you had recently wit your dad. Tony is definitely more competitive than your father and treats every game as a challenge. Not like something he’s humoring just for his kid. He celebrates with you instead of telling you to calm down. He chats with the adults, is nice to the kids, and does the goofy dances with you. Seeing Iron Man do the chicken dance is something you didn’t know you needed till now. He managed to turn this horrible night to one of the best ones you’ve had in quite a while. 

Finally the father daughter dance started to signal the end of the dance. Tony bowed dramatically and said in a horrible british accent, “ Lady Y/n?”

You laugh and make your way to the dance floor. You’re both quiet for a bit, snorting at how serious the other dads and their daughters look.

“Hey T?” You say softly, looking at the ground.

“Yeah kid?” 

“Thank you. It’s nice to know that one of my dad's isn’t a total asshole.” You say. knowing that this is the first time you referred to Tony as your dad.

His eyes get misty as he clears his throat,

“Anytime, bug”

[just-jordie-things]

The Crown - Steve Harrington

word count: 4462 warnings: dedicated to @high-functioning-fangirl02 <3

You’d give your life to protect these kids.  

These kids you’ve known since you started babysitting them in the sixth grade.  Back when Mrs Henderson hired you to watch Dustin.  Which essentially meant that you’d watch all of them.  But that was alright, over the past seven years of being their designated babysitter, you’d grown to love them all.

Mike Wheeler, the snarky little love-struck shit that you spent grieving with since losing Eleven.  Lucas Sinclair, the sweet boy with the occasional attitude whom you helped construct his Ghostbusters costume. Will Byers, the full time sweetheart that made you cookies for Valentine’s Day after hearing you complain about being dateless.  And of course Dustin, cute little button nosed Dusty with a trash mouthing tendency, whom looked up to you like a role model.

Hell, you were their role model.  Driving them to and from school, covering for them on late nights so they could finish their D&D tournaments.  Fiercely protecting them a year ago when Hawkins was Demogorgon infested.  Standing up for them when you’d see some upperclassmen picking on them.

Those who dared glance the wrong way towards The Party in your presence, were rumored to run home crying with a bleeding nose and terrified shriek.  You never put down the rumors… because maybe it had happened once or twice…

Over time The Party was no longer just a band of middle schoolers.  It had opened up to their babysitter, being you, a senior girl who had not many other friends.  Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, which the boys always claimed was strictly because of family relations.  Not because Dustin was still harbouring a crush for Mike’s older sister.  The town Sheriff, Jim Hopper, who’d proved himself not to be an asshole, and turned out an alright guy.  Joyce Byers, whom you loved like a mother and whom treated you like her own daughter.  You’d frequently been titled ‘the daughter she wished to have had’ which always raised a snarky response from her sons.  Maxine (just Max.  Never Maxine) Hargrove, a high spirited and not your typical girl that you grew fond of easily.  Especially since she was nothing like her big brother.

And then there was Steve Harrington.  Who… really just was at the wrong place at the wrong time and ended up getting roped into the mess that Hawkins Lab had created.  King Steve, as you’d known him before you’d officially met last year by fluke accident, was always the popular boy that had a pretty girl hanging off his arm.  You weren’t sure why that changed so quickly, why he didn’t put himself out there as much as he used to, didn’t party hard anymore, wasn’t bragging about the new girl he was with that week like he was known for.  Maybe that day, when he walked into the Wheeler’s house right as you Nancy and Jonathan were awaiting the Demogorgon’s arrival, maybe he changed then.

Or maybe it was after he’d been sucked into… whatever this all was… and he changed to keep the secret.  Or maybe it was after Nancy had broken up with him, around the same time he started growing closer to Dustin.

But right now as you watched him directing the kids, you were more aware that he wasn’t King Steve anymore, that you had been before.  Sure, you’d realized somewhere along the way he was different.  But it wasn’t until now that you noticed it completely as it was.

“No listen you little shits, no one, is going anywhere” Steve ordered, holding a wash rag in his hand and pointing it between each of the boys, and girl, that stood in front of him.

“Friggin’ pointless just staying here” Dustin grumbled, walking out of the room whilst still muttering.  Mike groaned loudly, dramatically, and left to the living room with Max and Lucas.  You knew that he was still plotting you get out there tonight.  Consequences and dangers be damned.

You looked to Steve with a sigh, a lazy smile on your lips as you walked past him to go after Dustin.  He watched you go, letting out a breath as well as he put his hands on his hips and standing alone in the hall with his thoughts.

He’d give his life to protect these kids.

“Dusty?” You called gently as you walked into the kitchen, seeing Dustin sitting on the floor against the dishwasher.  Your brows furrowed as you sat across from him by the cabinets.  “You alright kiddo?”

“Would I be sitting in here brooding if I was?” He quipped, though you knew he meant well.

“Sweetheart you’re too adorable to be a brooder” You laughed softly, pulling your knees up slightly.  “A pouter maybe, but not a brooder”

“Thanks y/n” He responded dryly.  You rolled your eyes in response to his sarcasm.

“Come on kid, open up a little.  It’s me” Your words were soft, which did prompt Dustin to consider explaining to you his thoughts.  “Please? If we make it out of this alive I’ll take you to the arcade.  I’ve got a big jar full of quarters I’ve saved up-”

“Okay okay I’ll take the bribe” Dustin caved with a laugh that made your mood lighten.  “Look it’s gonna sound lame and cheesy but… everyone else is helping.  Jonathan and Nance and Mrs Byers and Hopper and Elle, but what am I doing?”

“You’re staying safe” Your answer came out instantly, but it didn’t seem to be the one the boy was looking for.

“No I’m not, I’m sitting on the sidelines, watching everyone else go be heroes and getting hurt.  I’m not doing a damn thing!”

“Hey” You hummed softly, and scooted over closer to put your head on his shoulder.  “You’re a hero Dustin.  Don’t tell yourself any differently.  All of you are, Mike too, and Lucas, and Max, and-”

“Steve?” Dustin offered, and you nodded, looking at him confusedly by the strange tone of voice he used.

“Of course, why’re you looking at me like that?”

“No reason” Dustin shrugged nonchalantly, brushing off the uncomfortable air between you both.

“Alright well, you should believe me” You continued.  “Even if you don’t think so, you’re all my heroes, got it Henderson?” The boy smiled and nodded, prompting you to push the cap of his hat down playfully before he could get up and leave the room.

“Mike’s probably still planning his attack” He told you, but you shrugged and waved a hand.

“Let him plot and brood” You said, and Dustin’s mouth fell open.

“How come Mike can brood but I can’t?” You rolled your eyes, still waving your hand for him to get out of here.

“Just go plot with him, I know you’re itching to” You said, and he grinned wide at you, glad you were letting him go plan their escape and attack.

“Thanks y/n!” He called, already racing out of the room.  “You’re the best!” You laughed, shaking your head as you stood back up and dusted off the pants of your overalls.  Steve came in a few moments later, watching you almost suspiciously.

“What?” You questioned, and he shrugged, shaking his head.

“Nothing.  Just wondering why you’re permitting them to conspire against us” He said.

“They’re not conspiring, they’re just discussing.  No harm in that”

“Um, every harm in that.  As in all of us, being harmed, because of that” He said, but you didn’t really seem to care what he thought about it.

“They’re fine, we’re all fine, don’t freak out so much mom” You said, walking out towards the kids and seeing them all circled up and discussing their big plan.

“I’m not a mom” Steve argued, and you chuckled, turning to see him, his dish rag on his shoulder, hands on hips.  It only made you laugh more.

“Mhm, alright.  Well then what would you call yourself?” You replied sarcastically, nodding towards his own stance, and making Steve second guess himself.

“This- you-! Alright whatever just stay away from the windows and go be safe somewhere” He muttered, walking into the living room where the kids were.  You rolled your eyes again, but couldn’t help the smile on your lips.

Perhaps, you thought, King Steve was the king of something else now.

You watched as he was waving his rag at the kids again, yelling at them for plotting behind his back, and reminding them that no one was going anywhere.  But even as Dustin pouted, Steve was rubbing his hand over the thirteen year old’s head.  Almost soothingly, like he felt bad for ending their little meeting.

“What a mom” You mumbled, and headed back into the kitchen for something to eat.

You used to resent Steve, back when he was the king of school and didn’t care about anything more than he cared about his popularity and his hair.  Back when he didn’t give a shit about pretty much anything.  And looking at him now and seeing him watch over these kids, you could physically feel your heart swelling.  If that isn’t character development, you weren’t sure what was.

You weren’t sure why it made you feel so bubbly either.

“Listen runts, we’re staying here, we’re staying safe, and we’re not dying!” Steve said, for what felt like the fifth time.  But Mike kept arguing back at him.

“Everyone else is out there!”

“Everyone else knows how to fight all that shit!” Steve retorted.  “We are staying, here” He repeated slowly, waving his rag between each word.  “You got that?”

“You’re just saying that cause y/n’s here.  If she wasn’t here, we’d all be getting in your car and going!” Lucas spoke up.  Your brows furrowed at that.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, ignoring your search for food and now strutting into the room where everyone else was.  “Am I dragging you down?” You asked, almost sarcastic, but wondering what he’d actually meant by his announcement.  Were you dragging them down?

“No, Steve would just protect your ass over our asses” Max shrugged, and the others nodded.

“What the hell? Everyone here is protecting their own asses, I’m not getting killed for a bunch of kids!” Steve said, making flustered and jerky movements.  You brushed off their newly sprung argument over where Steve’s bat is swinging and who it’s swinging for.

Apparently, The Party was certain that he’d die for you, rather die for them.  But you didn’t care much about what they thought.  They’d always thought that you and Steve were meant to be some power couple, but you supposed it was just cause you were the same age and the kids only ever saw you two together.  There was no real evidence (as far as they showed) towards the ‘chemistry’ you and Steve supposedly had.

You wandered to the window, curiously looking out it with your arms wrapped around yourself.

“Will you just shut up?” Mike’s yelling made you jump a little, and you turned to see your friends all still arguing with each other.  You smiled slightly, meeting Steve’s eyes as he gave you a bored look.  You just laughed a little bit back at him.  Steve’s expression softened into a small smile.  Your face flushed with heat, and you nervously turned away from him to look back out the window again.

A light blinded you almost instantly, making you squint your eyes and put a hand over them to try and clear your vision.

“What the hell?” You muttered, leaning closer to the glass to see what was going on.  Headlights, there was a car here.  Someone was here.  “Steve?” You called, not turning away from the window.  He came over right away, looking outside to see a familiar Camaro parked in the driveway.

“Shit” He grumbled, walking towards the front door.

“What- where are you going? Who is it?” You asked, following quickly after him, but Steve quickly turned to make you stay back.

“Just stay in here-”

“Sinclair!” A voice hollered from outside, and you jumped, eyes widening as you recognized it.  “I know you’re in there!”

“Billy?” You whispered to Steve, who nodded.  You stepped backwards, eyes never leaving Steve’s.  “What’s he doing here?” Your voice was quiet.

Billy Hargrove, was the most vile, horrible person you’d ever met.  And his wicked ways of bending people to his will, shook you intensely to your core.  It was no secret to the others that Billy not only terrified you, but would seductively torture you every day.  Sure, you’d been picked on before, but this was different.  Every day he’d come to you, hoping to get something out of you, just to mess with you.

“Come on babe, a little kiss, just a little one, we can discuss the rest later”

“You don’t want to get a ride home with me and have some fun?”

“When’re you finally gonna give this up and just put out?”

You shuddered slightly, practically feeling his hot breath against your skin just thinking about the things he’s said to you.  Stopping you in the hallways, finding you at your locker, approaching you while you waited at Steve’s car for a ride home.

“I know you’re in there you little pig! Come out here or I’ll have to go in!” His voice was dangerous, threatening.  And you felt a legitimate fear for your life, and the kids’.

“It’s fine, you’re fine, I promise” Steve said quietly, out of earshot of the others.  “All of you stay here, stay away from the windows” He ordered, giving you one last look before you turned and went to The Party.  They needed you right now, all huddled around Lucas and Max to make sure if Billy were to look inside, he wouldn’t see them.

“Come on guys” You said softly, ushering them as far away from the window as you could.  Steve, on the other hand, opened the door and stepped outside.

Instead of hiding in a room, completely out of sight of the maniac, you all ducked under the windowsill to see what was happening.

“Am I dreaming or is that really you Harrington?” You felt your entire body quivering upon hearing Billy’s voice.  Dustin, who was crouched next to you, turned and gave you a worried look, but your eyes were dead set on the outside.

“Yeah it’s me, don’t cream your pants” Steve responded, walking out towards him as he pulled off his leather jacket.

“What’re you doing here amigo?” Billy asked, the cigarette hanging off his lips moving as he spoke.

“I could ask you the same thing” Steve responded, void of emotion.  “Amigo”

“Lookin’ for my step sister.  Little birdie told me she was here”

“Huh, that’s weird I don’t know her” Steve lied easily, and convincingly.  You prayed to God that Billy believed him.

“Small? Redhead?” Billy replied disbelievingly.  “Bit of a bitch?”

“Ashole” Max muttered to herself inside.

“Doesn’t ring a bell, sorry buddy” Steve replied, still not sounding like he cared even an inkling.  Billy nodded, taking out his cigarette.

“You know… I don’t how this, this whole situation Harrington is um.., it’s giving me the heebie jeebies” Billy said, looking at Steve a little more threateningly.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“My thirteen year old sister goes missing all day, and then I find her with you” Billy pointed accusatory hands towards Steve, giving him a disgusted look.  “In a strangers house” He continued.  “And you lie to me about it” Steve chuckled bitterly, shaking his head and looking away for a moment.

“Yeah, maybe you were dropped too much as a child or what” Steve said snarkily.  But Billy just grinned his twisted grin and licked his tongue over the front of his teeth.  “I don’t know what you don’t understand about what I just said”

You felt a chill go down your spine as Steve’s protectiveness took over his tone.  Dustin beside you mumbling a quiet, “Holy shit”

“She’s not here” Steve said carefully.  Billy nodded, looking pointedly towards the window where you and The Party were all huddled and looking out of.

“Then who’s that?” He asked, pointing his cigarette towards his sister.

“Down!” You hissed, and the five of you dropped to the floor so fast you all groaned from the impact of the floor.

“Shit!” Dustin cursed.  “Did he see us?”

“Oh shit” Steve grumbled.  “Okay listen-” Billy pushed him to the ground before he could explain anything.  The boy kicked him, before storming up into the house.

“Well well well” Billy smirked, seeing you and The Party standing there together, you in front of all of them.  “y/n l/n, what a lovely little surprise” You grimaced, but he didn’t seem to care.  “And Lucas Sinclair, not so much a surprise at all” You moved over more in front of Lucas, who’s hands grabbed onto your arm out of fear.  “I thought I told you to stay away from him Max”

“Billy, go away” Max retorted, but her voice wavered.

“You disobeyed me” Billy leaned over his step sister tauntingly.  “And you know what happens when you disobey me” He added in a hushed, volatile voice.

“Billy-”

“I break things” He uttered, before pushing you aside, crashing your body into the wall.  Before slamming Lucas up against the cupboards.

“Billy stop!” Max and the others began to yell, Dustin rushing over to help you up, but you were already standing up on your own.

“Get off of me!” Lucas cried.

“Since Maxine won’t listen to me, maybe you will” Billy muttered.  “You stay away from her.  Stay-! Away from her” He yelled awkwardly.  “Do you hear me?”

“I said get off me!” Lucas screamed again, followed by a knee between Billy’s legs.  You gasped, feeling a moment of pride as Billy stumbled back and released him.

“You are so dead Sinclair!” Billy hollered.  “You’re dead-”

“No” Steve grabbed Billy by the shoulder, spinning him around roughly.  “You are” And with that he swung his fist and planted it hard enough against Billy’s jaw to make him topple over.

“Steve!” You yelped out of surprise.  He looked at you for a moment, nodding in reassurance as he shook out his hand.  It’d been a while since he’d hit anybody.  Billy stood back up, laughing menacingly.  “You’re a fucking psycho!” You screeched before you could stop yourself.

“Looks like you got some fire in you after all huh!?” He yelled at Steve.  “I’ve been waiting to meet this King Steve everybody’s been telling me so much about” He stepped closer to Steve, glaring at him.

“Get out” Steve muttered, pushing Billy’s chest lightly to move him away from him.  Billy stepped back and stood there for a moment.  And after a few seconds passed you were certain that he was going to stay back.

Until he swung swiftly at Steve, but missed as Steve ducked just in time.  You gasped, clapping your hands over your mouth in terror.  Steve stood back up and swung his fist again, hitting Billy and making him stumble again.

“Yes! Get him Steve!” Dustin cheered, and the others began to as well.  You couldn’t find yourself to say anything, just wince every time a punch was made.  Steve hit him two more times, and Billy ran into the kitchen sink.  Leaning back and wincing in pain.

“Kill him! Kill him!” Mike was yelling.  But Billy grabbed a plate of the counter, smashing it over Steve’s head, and making him fall to the ground.

“Steve!” You screamed now, taking long strides to get over to him, only to be pushed away by Billy.  Who hit Steve as soon as he stood up again.  He grabbed Steve by the shoulders, staring him down.

“No one.  Tells me what to do” He muttered angrily, and threw his head forward hard into Steve’s knocking him down again.

“Fucking hell” You mumbled, tears beginning to prick your eyes in fear that Billy was actually going to kill Steve.  The mullet wearing psycho leapt onto Steve, pinning him down and swinging punch after punch against his face.

“Stop it!” Mike yelled at the top of his lungs, but it did nothing to end Billy’s attack.

“Steve!” Dustin hollered.

You stood frozen, every scene in front of you soundless, and moving slowly.  You could only feel your heart in your chest, sending you into an anxiety attack, you were sure.  But it barely mattered to you in that moment.  You turned away, and your eyes landed on something.

The syringe used on Will earlier.

Sleep… put him to sleep… your thoughts were broken as you reached for it, looking at it in your hands for a few seconds, before stepping forward and slamming the needle into Billy’s neck without a hesitation.  Mike and Dustin gasped, standing back.  Everyone’s eyes stuck on the syringe hanging out of BIlly’s neck now.  A disgust filling them up at the sight.

“Shit y/n” Dustin mumbled, his hand covering his mouth to stop vomit from flowing.

Billy stood up, wobbling slightly as he turned to look at you.  He pulled the needle out of his neck, vision beginning to fail.  “The hell is this?” He asked, trying to step towards you threateningly, but he was wobbling so much you didn’t even move.  No longer afraid of him.

“You’re fucking done Hargrove” You muttered, and before thinking twice to second guess yourself, punching him across the jaw, and sending him back on his ass.  Billy groaned, staying down where he’d fallen against the couch.

“Shit what did you do” He mumbled, growing dizzy from the mix of drug and pain.

A few moments later he completely passed out.

“Fuck” You hissed in pain, putting your bruising knuckles against your mouth.  You didn’t think punching someone would hurt so damn much.

“y/n holy shit”

“Are you okay?”

“That was badass!”

The Party was fussing and cheering for you, but you didn’t respond, kneeling down by Steve next and counting up all the cuts and bruises he was beginning to sport.  He was unconscious, that was for sure.  But he’d be in for a world of hurt when he woke up.

“Come on, help me get him back to Jon’s bed” You called to the kids.

It was difficult moving him, but after ten minutes you’d managed to get him into Jonathan’s room to lie on the bed there.  You were sat next to him, a cold wet rag in your hand, and the open first aid kit on the ground.  It took you awhile to clean off all the blood and apply bandages where you thought they were necessary.  There was a frozen bag of peas you’d put over one of his eyes to stop the swelling, but so far it still looked pretty bad.

The Party had sat with you for what felt like a long time before you told them to go back to the living room and wait for the others to return home.  Dustin put up a small fight about it, but eventually gave in and listened to your order.  And now it was just you kneeling on the ground by Steve, watching over him carefully.  Making sure he was breathing okay, and that nothing would begin to bleed again.

“Well King Steve, you got quite the ass kicking” You mumbled, just to yourself.  Your fingers placed a few stray hairs on his forehead back into place.  “But your crown is still there” You smiled to yourself, fingertips gently brushing his hair.

“y/n?” Your eyes looked back at him as he mumbled, almost incoherently.  “What happened?” The poor boy’s eyes weren’t even open.

“You put up a really good fight” You told him softly.  He winced, the pain probably beginning to settle in.

“Did I win?” He groaned, eyes clenching shut momentarily.  You bit down on your lip and shook your head, even though he couldn’t see you.

“You put up a really good fight” You repeated yourself, playing with his hair again.  Steve sighed, knowing the answer.

“Is he gone?” He asked, eyes finally beginning to flutter open.

“Yeah… yeah he won’t be back any time soon, I’m sure” You answered.  Steve looked up at you, smiling down gently at him.  He smiled back instantly, and moved his arm to push your hair back, but even at it’s slight movement you winced in pain.  “You’re in pretty bad shape” You told him quietly.  “But you’ll heal up alright”

“Are you okay?” He asked, and you nodded.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine” You shrugged slightly.  “We’re all really worried about you.  Dustin thought you were dead” Steve chuckled painfully, shaking his head a little bit.

“Are they alright? Max and Lucas?”

“Yeah, we’re all good Steve” You hummed with a slight nod.  You leaned forward, a little closer to him to check on the eye swelled under the bag of peas.  You frowned, seeing the black and blue bruise that only seemed to be spreading.

“I’m alright, don’t fuss so much” Steve said, putting his hand over the bag and pushing it back against his face.  Your eyes met his for a moment.

“You’re pretty bruised up Harrington” You sighed, taking the wet rag in your hand and dabbing it gently on his bruised cheek.  “There’s not an inch of your face spared”

“It’ll be fine, I’ll heal up”

“Years from now, maybe” You replied sarcastically, and he smiled at you while you carefully pressed the cold cloth to his face.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He murmured, and you looked at him for the briefest of seconds before going back to work.  Now is not the time to talk about feelings, you thought to yourself.

“Yeah? Go play hero some more and you’ll never see anything again” You told him, and he shrugged slightly, not having a response to that.

“I just wanted to remind you.  In case you haven’t been told in a while” He said.  You bit on the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling too much.  You looked down at him, your eyes softening slightly.

You leaned over closer to him, pausing for a moment before pressing your lips lightly against his.  It was a chaste kiss, only lasting a few seconds as you didn’t want to hurt him anymore than he already was.  When you pulled back, you smiled nervously at him, and he only smiled back at you.

“You’re lucky you didn’t die Harrington” You said, and got right back to work on pressing the rag to his wounds.

“That I am” He replied cheekily.

You giggled softly, smiling down at him and wondering just when he’d changed so much.

You knew he’d give his life for these kids too, just like you would.

love me some babysitter steve

xoxo ~ jordie

[moonbeamsung]

You’re Just a Boy in a Blueberry Field

No fruit is sweeter than a summer love.

member: haechan

au: blueberry farmer!haechan x gn!reader

word count: 5.0k

genre: fluff, very light angst

warnings: mentions of food

author’s note: It’s here! I actually wrote most of this last summer, but only recently did I find the time to edit and get it ready to be posted. I added some parts and changed a few things, and now I like it quite a lot, so I hope you do as well! Thank you @astroboy-lele​ for beta-reading :) As always I would love to hear any feedback on this, and I hope that you enjoy the fic!

taglist: @astroboy-lele @kyuwoyo @rvse-hvvck @nakamotocore @kisshim @leejunini @chicksung @mrkcore @radiorenjun @moon-jun @jisungiest @stayctday @byutafy @jujubean23 @treasurehobi​ @bluejaem​ @lyshoonn​ @vera-liscious​ @allegxdly​ @cupfullofjeno​ @thats-a-jen-no-no​ @yo-ddream​

network tags: @kpopscape @neo-constellations @culture-cafe @dreamlab-nct @k-dinernet 

Thank you lovely Ana @rvse-hvvck for this additional header!

Donghyuck knows everything there is to know about those blueberries.

Without even pausing for the briefest of moments to think, to instinctively recall the information instilled in him throughout his childhood spent on the farm, he can answer any question that’s thrown at him. He can point out just the right color of berry to pick so that they’ll be ripe when you eat them later. Likewise, he can also tell you which ones are best to eat now, as you pick them, pretending not to notice when you pop one or two into your mouth and grinning when your eyes light up from the sweetness.

A day comes where he, filled with mischief as usual, places a not-so-ripe blueberry into your hand, and you, being so wrapped up in the peacefulness of the morning that surrounds you, fail to notice its red color and don’t think twice about lifting it to your lips, biting into it with your teeth. When the tart taste meets your tongue, your face contorts into an expression that elicits a raucous fit of laughter from him. You’re the first one in the fields that day. When the sun had risen on the horizon, the fleeting touch of color in the sky that dawn left behind still lingering above, he had been there, sitting on the front porch as always to greet customers.

Donghyuck knows every bug that loves to rest on the branches of the blueberry bushes. After spending so much time next to you as you scan them for the pops of vivid blues and purples that are hidden behind jade green leaves, he begins to learn that you are not fond of any bug, no matter how harmless. It’s cute, he thinks, how you inspect every berry that you drop into your basket, fearing that some small creature is lurking on it. If you do find something, he hears a small noise of both surprise and disgust before you fling the perfectly good berry away from you. It also hurts a little, knowing that it’s one less for you to take home.

When more people arrive at the farm after you, he’s forced to leave your side and get them started on their own search for the delicious fruit that’s nestled among the branches of nearly every bush. And if they ask where the best ones are, he specifically points them in the direction of the fields where you aren’t. It isn’t a lie, really, because they’ve had a good harvest everywhere this year.

...Okay, so maybe it’s a little selfish on his part, but who can blame him for wanting you to have some of the most plentiful bushes all to yourself?

Wednesdays are his favorite because it’s always the least crowded of all the mornings they’re open for business, and he can spend more time following you as you make your way down the rows, admiring the focus on your face and the way that you sometimes pause mid-reach, closing your eyes and standing still as the sun peeks through the clouds and casts its warm glow down onto the farm. A gentle sigh tumbles from your lips, darkened by the violet nectar that remains from the countless blueberries that have crossed their usually pink-tinted threshold. You resume your search after a few seconds, catching his eye and returning a smile he didn’t even know was there.

He makes the berries taste a little sweeter when he’s next to you. The purple juice that stains your fingers is a little darker. The sun feels brighter and warmer than ever, its heat shining down onto your skin.

One particular morning, after you finish picking all the blueberries you can carry, you decide to accompany Donghyuck on the porch, sitting beside each other in matching rocking chairs that first belonged to his great-grandparents, the farm’s founders. The familiar sounds of birds chirping and the low mumbling amongst customers meet your ears. You both gaze fondly at the horizon while immersed in casual chatter, all the while tending to several families as they come and go.

Whenever a car turns off of the two-lane, paved road and onto the noisy gravel path leading into a small grassy area that functions as a parking lot, Donghyuck excuses himself from the lively conversation both of you always find yourselves sharing. He stands, brushing his hands off on his faded denim overalls that are only slightly too large for his frame. His hand lifts up the baseball cap he always wears while the other runs through his hair, and your gaze falls on the back of his neck where it rests in longer strands. You always wonder why he keeps it like that since he complains about how hot it makes him feel. The humid summer air is stifling enough as it is, after all. The thought vanishes only moments after it arrives, though, and he flashes a brilliant grin at you over his shoulder as he descends the wooden stairs leading down to the patio.

Today, a happy looking family gets out of a shiny silver minivan. The mother and father with two kids, a boy and a girl, make their way toward the covered patio and Donghyuck bounds down the steps like always, grabbing 4 stacked pails in his calloused hands. You lean forward a little in the creaky old rocking chair, your weight in your toes, ears just barely picking up his conversation with them. He greets the parents warmly, shaking their hands and then he kneels down to be eye-level with the small children. The little boy seems shy as he clasps his fingers in front of him, thumbs twiddling back and forth, while his sister is clearly the opposite. She skips over to the much taller boy, saying hello.

“Do you two like blueberries?” He asks them, one arm resting on his knee and the other extending a pail out in front of him. The young girl nods enthusiastically before she takes the container from his hand and turns around, passing it to her brother as he nods, making eye contact with Donghyuck for the first time. A small smile grows on his face when he’s met with the wider one of the unfamiliar but still welcoming stranger. His sister speaks up again, “Every Friday we get to help Mom make her famous blueberry pie!”

“Is that right?”

“Yep! In the morning we always go to the supermarket and get fresh blueberries,” she explains. Her mother leans down, softly telling her that this week they’re here to pick blueberries instead, fresh from the farm they were grown on.

“Really? So that means we’re not buying them at the store anymore?”

“Well, honey, today we can pick enough blueberries to last us for a whole month’s worth of blueberry pies.”

“And besides,” Donghyuck starts, still kneeling on the ground next to her, his boot leaving an imprint in the dirt underneath it, “it’ll taste even better since you picked them yourselves, don’t you think?” The boy punctuates his question with a wink.

The young boy steps up for the first time, grin stretching even wider as he finds the courage to happily agree with the wise words. Exclaiming eagerly and in a way that only a child can, he takes his sister by the hand that’s not holding his small bucket before scurrying off, their parents close behind after grabbing pails for each other as well as a third that their daughter had forgotten in the midst of the excitement.

As Donghyuck joins you on the porch once again, you can’t help but smile as you remember how he interacts with each and every customer that passes through the weathered fence surrounding the property. When he talks to kids in particular, his eyes seem to light up, and you see just how much of a kid he still is deep down. His playfulness never fails to make an appearance whenever you spend time with him.

You’re thankful for the moo of a cow in the distance that interrupts his question of why you’re smiling like an idiot and hopefully drowns out the steady sound of your pounding heart.

The next week he tells you that the rest of his family is out of town, and he’s been left with the responsibility of running the farm all on his own. He usually does most of the work himself these days anyway since he’s getting older and more mature, although some of his jokes say otherwise. You miss the way his mom would poke her head out of the upstairs window of the main house, calling out a greeting to you both from across the property, overjoyed at the sight of her son spending time with the particular customer he’s mentioned so many times before. Whether he would share an amusing anecdote of yours with his siblings at the dinner table or point out something that reminded him of you, it was far too easy for her to figure out how he feels about you.

In an effort to spend more time with him, keep him company and just help out in general, you offer to stay at the house with him for a little while. Or at least until his family gets back from their trip, and to your delight, he agrees. You arrive in the late evening, on a day when the fields are closed, just in time to catch the setting sun as it disappears behind the trees and power lines that seem to stretch for miles in the distance. Tugging an overnight bag of belongings with you, you knock twice on the wood of his front door.

It opens swiftly and Donghyuck welcomes you inside, wearing an apron that he must have outgrown 10 years ago, at least. You snicker at the snug choice of attire and he shoves your shoulder, though not with enough force to make you stumble. He whines a little in that saccharine-sweet voice of his that makes your heart clench, but you don’t give in. Not this time.

When the farm is closed for the day, the family has a chance to pick from some of the bushes that are planted in a more secluded area, all to ensure that they also have a big enough supply of the fruit to last them for the season. So Donghyuck had woken up at the crack of dawn, although you aren’t sure why. He had made his way downstairs and out into the dewy air of the morning, gathering just enough blueberries to bake a cobbler that night when you came over, since he’d learned it was your favorite treat after hours of conversation about anything and everything. The recipe comes straight from his great-grandfather, he informs you, and it’s written on a yellowing piece of paper in handwriting that you couldn’t read even if you tried. He, however, can somehow decode the seemingly nonsensical swirls and lines on the page. You suppose it’s part of the magic of the family recipe that gets passed down with it.

Donning an apron yourself, you join him at the sink as you begin washing the berries, gently grabbing a handful at a time as you let the tap water clean them. When you both reach into the large container at the same time, your hands brush and you almost scoff at the swell of your heart that you feel inside your chest.

As you’re working together to make the batter that you will soon pour into his mother’s finest glass baking pan, Donghyuck briskly swipes his fingertip on the side of the bowl where the mixer had splattered the combined ingredients, extending it in your direction. You raise an eyebrow at the boy and said fingertip before turning your head away.

“If you really think that I would lick that off your finger, then you’re terribly mistaken.”

Coyly, the mischief-maker in question retorts back as you glance at his impishly delighted expression. “Are you sure?” 

“Positive,” you state rather firmly, but matching the mirth in his eyes with a glimmer of amusement in your own. “I’ll settle for the spatula, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.” Donghyuck rolls his eyes, your answer completely expected. At least he tried. 

You won’t deny that you enjoy sampling a bit of the batter of a dessert as much as anyone. But not that much.

Left with no choice, he takes himself up on his own offer and sticks his finger into his mouth with an audible ‘pop,’ exaggerating the action just to get a rise out of you, feeling the upward curl of his lips when you react ever so slightly with a silent chuckle.

You’re adding the last bit of flour to the mixture when you accidentally get some of the powdery substance on your hand in the process. Turning the automatic mixer off, you momentarily forget about your stained skin and you make the mistake of wiping your face with the back of your wrist, smearing the white stuff on your cheek. Donghyuck notices, of course, and an innocent attempt to help clean up the mess only ends with the two of you blushing like crazy.

“Let me help you,” he speaks up.

“Don’t be ridiculous, the pan’s not that heavy, and even if it was, I’m strong enough anyway—”

You’re about to pick up the glassware but his sudden strides over to you from across the large kitchen cause everything you were saying, doing, and thinking to come to a complete stop. You’ve never really had a problem with personal space before, but right now he’s leaning down and his face is so close that you’re afraid to even breathe for fear that the action might just throw you off balance and towards him. For fear that you might not push his chest away with your hands if that happens.

He’s bending his knees to match your eye level and his hand lifts from its place at his side, hovering in midair not far from where the flour still lingers on your skin. His eyes had been so focused on the stain but the shrinking proximity between you and him pulls his gaze from your cheek to your eyes, blown wide and confused because you still have no idea that there’s something on your face.

The undoubtedly palpable tension in the room almost reaches down his throat and pulls the words from his vocal chords in an effort to dispel the heavy air circulating around the both of you.

“There’s… uh… you have flour…”

Donghyuck still hasn’t broken the less than comfortable eye contact, but he’s unable to look away for reasons unknown to him. After an agonizing amount of seconds your brain switches on again, albeit slowly, and you’re able to properly process the position you’re currently in. Your own hand starts to lift and though the movement is slight, it’s enough to draw his eyes down to it and he finds the strength to complete his goal at last.

His thumb swipes across your cheek and without even thinking he pops it into his mouth once again, forgetting about the unpleasant taste of flour. The way that the boy’s face scrunches up when the bitter powder meets his tongue doesn’t eliminate the awkwardness completely, but it’s a start. You hastily make an effort to avert your gaze as you frantically wonder if he caught your face that’s surely as warm as a blazing fireplace, all because he did the unthinkable with that stupid finger of his.

You won’t let yourself dwell on how his hand is just the right size to cradle the side of your head, or how much nicer his lips look up close, or how they must taste like the blueberries that he snuck into his mouth as you made the cobbler, or how you wished he had used his lips on your cheek instead of his thumb.

How you wish he had closed the almost nonexistent distance between your flushed faces.

These thoughts do nothing to ease the steadily growing heat that’s currently taking over your skin. Your eyes land on the glass pan and you take the opportunity to grab it, acting as a sort of distraction for your mind and also as something to snap you both out of your embarrassed hazes.

You get the finished dessert into the oven with no trouble after that, and now you have a little over half an hour of time to kill before it’s ready, so Donghyuck leads you into the nicely furnished family room and plops down onto the plush couch. When you don’t immediately follow he glances up at you, sensing that you’re still hesitant after the awkward moment. He smiles softly and almost apologetically, as if he’s sending a silent signal that you’ll both move past it soon enough, an invitation to put the incident behind the two of you. And you accept it.

You take a deep breath before you sit down next to him, sinking into the cushions underneath and behind you. The material dips slightly under the weight of both your bodies and gravity itself seems to be in control as it pushes you together, shoulders bumping and the sides of your legs being pressed up against each other. Thankfully, the television roars to life with the laughter of a live audience on one of your favorite shows, and you exhale a puff of air you didn’t even know you were holding in. With every scene that lights up the large display, you curl up further and further into his side, his arm migrating across the back of the sofa and winding around your shoulder only a few centimeters at a time.

This feels like home. Donghyuck feels like home.

The buzzer of the oven interrupts when you’re halfway through another episode, prompting you to jump to your feet just as abruptly as the alarm-like noise had started blaring. Consequently his arm flops down by his side as he mentally curses the loud intrusion into what had become a comfortable atmosphere, an atmosphere that was finally surrounding you again after what felt like an eternity but had really only been an hour.

In no time, you’re returning from the kitchen, the warm blueberry contents of the cobbler oozing out onto the flowery pair of plates you had grabbed from the cupboard. Handing one to him and setting the other aside for yourself, you quickly go back around the corner to grab two tall cups of cold milk. Your second time joining him on the couch comes more easily, almost all of the earlier tension having dispersed into the room, wafting out the windows along with the delicious scent of the fruit baked into the sweet, flaky crust. In fact, you’re fairly sure that it’s strong enough for even his neighbors down the road to smell. Which reminds you: you need to package some up to deliver to them tomorrow, per Donghyuck’s suggestion.

You’re most definitely sure that he smells the aroma, of course, because it’s hard to ignore the eagerness with which he takes a large bite of the dessert. “We make better bakers that I thought we would,” the boy comments, taking a sip of milk. The white mustache that it creates above his top lip when he lifts the glass to his mouth is enough to make you giggle, and you’re unaware that this predictable reaction was his objective all along. He grins, rather satisfied.

With your stomach now full, a head-plaguing drowsiness begins to set in. It slowly fills your senses enough for you to drift off, fork nearly falling out of your hand and onto the floor before he catches it, along with your weight when you slump down against his shoulder. Donghyuck is barely able to reach one of the end tables, and he sets the dishes and silverware down next to the now empty cups. Your body unconsciously clings to his like a koala to a branch, with both hands clutching one of his arms and a leg hooked over his thighs.

He takes one look at you and wishes he could pause time, to stay here forever. It’s not every day that he meets someone who can easily match the amount of snark he possesses. Simultaneously, you also balance out the friendship you share with your compassion and sense of wonder about the world, always evident in your morning routine when you come to the fields. Donghyuck has noticed that you bring out those same qualities in him, perhaps more than anyone else ever has. And just like you’re holding him right now, he vows to hold on to you.

As much as he doesn’t want to get up and for the evening to progress, he knows he should, that it has to. So he manages to detach from the hold of your limbs, gently pushing himself up and off of the couch so he doesn’t disturb you.

Glancing at the large antique clock above the doorway that leads out into the hall, Donghyuck realizes it’s much later than he thought. He decides to turn in for the night, but on a regular day he usually finds himself still awake well past midnight, despite the need to wake up early the next morning and run the farm from the crack of dawn.

Since you’re tired and he doesn’t want to risk you waking up alone in an unfamiliar bed and place, he comes to the conclusion that he’ll join you. Only leaving your side for a moment, he puts the cobbler into the refrigerator and turns off the kitchen lights behind him as he goes. Softly padding halfway up the stairwell, Donghyuck makes sure there’s enough light for him to see where he’s going before making his way back into the living room one last time. He tucks one arm underneath both of your bent knees as tenderly as he can, and places the other behind the middle of your back, hand gently curling against your waist. He carries you with probably the most delicacy he’s shown in his entire life.

Going upstairs is generally an easy task, but doing so while carrying another person is a different story. He would never forgive himself if he were to hurt you in any way. If even your foot happened to bump the wall next to you, a burst of frustration at himself and his own carelessness would surface regardless of the impact’s intensity

Your position in his arms gives him yet another opportunity to gaze upon your peaceful expression, and he begins to think more deeply about what you are to him. Looking forward to your visits makes his work so much more enjoyable and worth it. You’re someone who truly appreciates what he and his family do for a living and you faithfully support them with your business as a customer whenever you can, which is a rare thing to find in most people that come. Most are just bored and in need of something to occupy themselves or their kids. Sometimes they don’t even pick that many berries. But you always make sure to bring your own basket, which holds just as many as if not more than the ones the farm provides, and fill it to the brim. In his eyes, you’re special.

Amidst the mostly-asleep state that you’re in, your eyes just barely open far enough to see a blurry picture of Donghyuck’s face as he carries you through the house and up into the bedroom he had suggested you share. He sets you down onto the soft mattress before pulling the covers up to your stomach, retreating into the attached bathroom to quickly change into a thin t-shirt and his favorite pair of plaid pajama pants.

The memory of that conversation floods back to you. Initially, you refused the offer, saying that he would rest better if he had more space to move around. But being the clingy person he is, he had pouted desperately as you struggled to stand your ground in the discussion. “Fine,” you had huffed, only half-frustrated with those doe eyes he always uses to get his way, and your lips had great difficulty holding back a smile.

The hum of electricity that can be heard emanating from the next room snaps you out of these thoughts, and is enough to wake you up a bit more. Your gaze scans the surroundings for a minute or two before he opens the door again, his eyes now looking as heavy as your own.

Donghyuck joins you under the blanket and shifts to lay on his side, facing you. It’s funny that you’re both able to adjust to a situation so intimate and new almost instantly. Still on your back, your head turns and you’re conscious enough to raise an eyebrow at the boy. There’s that pout again.

“Please?” He mumbles, his bottom lip jutting out in an action he’s perfected. You know exactly what he’s after: cuddles.

You don’t even try to hide the playful roll of your eyes as you scoot a little closer, but it’s not close enough for him. He gets impatient, meeting you halfway, and this time it’s him that flings a leg over yours. An endearing, small noise of contentment from him fills your ears as you take notice of his arms, now interlocked behind your neck and around your shoulders. You melt into the snug position, a hand landing on his forearm that’s laying across your chest. Turning ever so slightly to the side, your other hand winds around his middle and eventually rests just above his hip, pulling him into you even more. Donghyuck nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, a few strands of your hair tickling his skin as he sighs in complete and utter bliss.

Determined to savor the moment until the irresistible inevitability of slumber starts to overtake you once more, you fight to stay awake with all of your might. But in what you thought was only the blink of an eye, the glittering stars visible through the bay window’s sheer drapes morph into the pale golden rays of first light. There’s a soft murmur of your name along with an unintentional, almost imperceptible peck to the place where his lips meet your skin, and you’re wide awake. Not to mention a little shocked.

He’s utterly unfazed, though, slowly waking up now that the sun has gotten brighter, its beams filtering into the room and hitting his already glowing face that becomes a gorgeous honey-colored hue.

Donghyuck reluctantly withdraws his arms from your form after one last embrace, effortlessly rising from the wrinkled bed sheets and offering his hand to you when you start to do the same. A sleepy smile makes a home on his features and he reminds you of your task to deliver a portion of the dessert you made to his next-door neighbors.

That’s exactly what you do, first making yourselves presentable in the bathroom by smoothing down wild bed hair and freshening up your faces with cool water. Being around to see each other’s natural morning states is a major act of trust, and he doesn’t miss an opportunity to poke fun at you for it.

“How long does it normally take for you to do your hair every day before you come here?” His tone is dripping with feigned innocence, but the sly grin on his lips says otherwise.

“Shut up, Hyuck.”

Tupperware container in hand, your shoes step in rhythm with his as you amble along the grassy shoulder of the street together. Somehow you end up hand-in-hand by the time you reach his neighbors’ front patio.

“Donghyuck!” The elderly woman at the door greets him with a twinkling voice, her husband coming into view soon after. “Look who it is, honey,” she motions fondly to the boy who they both once knew to be much shorter and younger, but now is all grown up before their eyes. “You’re getting so tall. It seems like only yesterday you were scurrying through the blueberry fields and waving to us through the gaps in the fence.”

“Yes ma’am, it does,” he responds politely. The couple has been living there for as far back as he can remember, and quite honestly they feel as if they’ve become part of his family, too.

Her warm brown eyes light up. “Is this the customer your mother was telling me about last week? She mentioned how close you’ve become, and now I’m finally seeing it for myself. You make a lovely pair.”

“Oh—” Donghyuck startles. Not much can get him flustered, but he hadn’t exactly been anticipating for his mom to recount all the things he’s said about you to the sweetest and most innocent of elderly couples. Of course they would assume that there’s something going on.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that, with you. He wouldn’t mind at all, really. He’ll just need to have a word about a little thing called privacy with his mother later.

You see the glint of panic in his eyes and speak up. It’s not often he makes such an easy target for teasing. “Thank you,” you state graciously, the smugness in the statement only noticeable to him. “We’re very happy together.” He feels you lean into him, fingers unwrapping from his and gripping the other side of his waist. You know exactly what you’re doing, and so does he.

Almost forgetting to hand over the slices of cobbler you’d cut earlier, Donghyuck nudges you to do so, and the four of you exchange thanks and farewells before you’re on your way back to the farm.

“Happy together, huh?”

“Shut up, Hyuck.” You mumble something else afterwards that he doesn’t quite catch.

“What’s that? Didn’t hear you,” he sings, stopping in his tracks. You do the same. “Shut up and what?”

“...And kiss me.”

After many days and many nights spent wondering, you can confirm that his lips do, indeed, taste as sweet as the blueberries in those fields.

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Spooky Stories to Hold Them Close

Shinobu Kochou x They/Them Reader Modern AU

A/N:  I’ve got camping on the brain so I wrote a camp AU. There is a manga character mentioned in here but I morph them a bit to fit what I’m going for so I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Please enjoy!  Shinobu: If there are any spirits out here tonight tell me, does this sound like Shakira? lolay lolay lo- 

Word Count: 4,821

It was summer again, and (Y/n) groaned as they removed their camp issued baseball cap to swipe at the sweat that had accumulated over their brow. Not even the cheap material could save them from the intense heat of the day. God, they would kill to be back at the counselor’s cabin to enjoy just a smidge of AC but no, instead they were out with the unruly boys of Cabin K, making sure that they carried out their punishment of hard labor after causing a food fight in the mess hall.

“Come on boys, those canoes better be sparkling if you’re going to be taking your sweet time like this.” (Y/n) called, fanning themself with their hat.

“There’s a spider in this one!” Zenitsu cried. “This is so gross, there’s no way anyone’s ever cleaned these before!”

“Don’t worry Zenitsu, I’ll get it.” Tanjirou smiled earnestly.

(Y/n) felt bad for that kid. He was such an enabler though. The others looked up to him and respected him a lot. Who knows how much better it be if he knocked their heads more often. But because of his soft and nurturing demeanor, Tanjirou was always getting caught up in his cabin mates’ shenanigans. Speaking of which...

“Inosuke! If so much as a toe goes in that water you’ll be at the craft table with the junior kids making macaroni art until the only color you know yellow!” (Y/n) warned.

A strangled wail mixed with a roar left the boy’s mouth, the sound didn’t even sound like it could come from a human being. It was like that boy was a feral boar. Given how he’s kept coming back year after year, he may as well be just that.

“It’s hot! I’ll wash the boat in the lake!” He yelled, pulling the canoe closer to the sandy beach.

“Inosuke I’m serious! Macaroni art! That, and I’ll call your mother!” (Y/n) yelled back.

“Damn you and your sick threats!”

“My, still at it are we?”

(Y/n) sighed, turning with a tight smile towards Shinobu as their fellow counselor came up beside them. They tried not to let their eyes wander too long over the expanse of soft looking skin Shinobu’s shorts left exposed.

“Yeah, and as you can see, Tomioka ditched me to go help Sabito with something.” (Y/n) huffed, returning a watchful eye over Inosuke as he dragged the canoe back up to the others.

“Oh, you poor thing.” Shinobu tutted, stepping closer to rub (Y/n)’s back as a sign of sympathy. The proximity brought the scent of sunscreen and damp earth to (Y/n)’s nose. It was an intoxicating scent that (Y/n) had grown to associate with Shinobu always.

“Yeah, are you getting ready for swim lessons right now? Tradesies?” They asked hopefully, mustering up the best puppy dog eyes they could make. They only succeeded in making Shinobu laugh though, which honestly, wasn’t a bad constellation prize.

“Mm, no, sorry. You’re not the only one wanting to get relief from this heatwave.” Shinobu pinched the front of her shirt pulling at it to circulate some airflow. A motion (Y/n) definitely did not follow with their eyes.

“I did grab you and the boys some water though.” Shinobu said, digging into the drawstring bag that was slung over her shoulder and presenting (Y/n) with four bottles of cold water. “And to think I purposfully didn’t get one for Tomioka and he isn’t even here to stare off into the middle distance. Such a waste.”

“You’re such a bully sometimes, you know that?” (Y/n) chuckled, placing all bottles at their feet except for one, “remind me to stay on your good side.”

“You’d really be on my good side if you came to the counselor fire after the kids turn in. The theme is Fright Night, sponsored by yours truly,” Shinobu winked playfully.

Immediately (Y/n) felt a tad ill. “Fright Night?”

“Yes!” Shinobu nodded, a small, yet very excited grin on her face, “it’ll be held at Hangman’s Clearing, of course, a full night of frightening tales and games by the fire... and delicious treats! Provided Mitsuri doesn’t eat them all on the way. You’ll come, right?”

(Y/n) wasn’t particularly fond of the supernatural or chilling tales of murder or other dark themes. In fact, it would be fair to say they loathed them. They hated being scared and this themed get together should have had (Y/n) running in the opposite direction. ‘Should have’ being the key in this situation.

Shinobu looked so hopeful, waiting expectantly for (Y/n)’s reply. It would be impossible to say no to that face. A face that (Y/n) looked forward to seeing every summer and was always desperately looking for an excuse to see as often as possible. It couldn’t be that bad, right? (Y/n) could handle a few spooks in exchange for hanging out with Shinobu all night. Yeah, they could do this.

“It’s not a trick question, (Y/n). A simple yes or no would suffice.” Shinobu teased. “Though if it helps sway your decision at all, it would make me really happy if you would come.”

And with that, (Y/n)’s fate was sealed.

“Okay, sure, yeah, I’ll come.” (Y/n) bashfully agreed, their heartbeat picking up in pace at Shinobu’s delighted giggle.

“Great! I’ll see you at the clearing at ten. Don’t be late or,” she suddenly latched on to (Y/n)’s arm, startling them, “the ghosts will get you!”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” (Y/n) laughed weakly. Their skin tingling from where Shinobu had grabbed them.

“I better get to the beach, the kids are getting antsy.” Shinobu said before proceeding to pull her shirt over her head. She was wearing her swimsuit of course, but still. (Y/n) nearly had an aneurysm because of the casual reveal. “See you later, (Y/n).”

“Sssseee you. Bye. Thanks for the water.” (Y/n) then made themselves busy by taking several sips of said water.

“Anytime,” Shinobu’s eyes traveled past (Y/n)’s body before returning to them with a sympathetic smile, “looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

“Huh?” (Y/n) squinted before their eyes blew wide and they jerked their head back in the direction of the canoes. “Tanjirou, why is there a canoe in that tree! I swear I can’t leave you guys alone for two minutes!” (Y/n) stalked over to the boys and Shinobu watched their back, laughing as (Y/n) ran up to Inosuke and tackled him to the ground before he could scale the tree with another canoe.

***

Night fell much too quickly after a full day of scheduled activities and once all the campers had retired to their cabins for curfew, (Y/n) knew their time to mentally prepare for the counselor fire had run out. At least they hadn’t had to walk to the clearing themself, as they had bumped into Mitsuri and Iguro at the edge of the forest entrance.

Iguro seemed miffed that his alone time with the bubbly counselor had been interrupted but Mitsuri was all too happy to catch up with (Y/n) about their day as they walked to Hangman’s Clearing.

Soon the light of a fire could be seen between the trees and they met up with the other counselors who had decided to join in. Sitting around the fire, (Y/n) saw Kyoujurou and Tengen talking to each other while poking at the fire. (Y/n) frowned, wondering where Shinobu was.

“Boo!”

It took everything in (Y/n)’s power to swallow the scream that threatened to spill from their mouth as arms wrapped around them from behind. Instead it turned into a pitiful and embarrassing squeak. (Y/n) wasn’t sure which would have been better.

“Oh dear, (Y/n). Did I startle you? I’m sorry.” Shinobu released (Y/n) from her hold and patted their shoulder.

“It’s okay!” (Y/n) promised, not wanting Shinobu to feel bad. “Besides, that’s kind of the point of tonight, isn’t it?”

“Right! I’m glad you could come (Y/n). I didn’t know if you liked scary things.” Shinobu said as they followed Mitsuri and Iguro to the fire.

“Yeah...” (Y/n) replied, lying against their better judgment. They just wanted Shinobu to think they were cool, impress her somehow maybe. “Horror is.. great.”

“Is this it?” Tengen asked, leaning his back against a sturdy log.

“Yes. Gyomei is staying behind to keep an ear out for the kids, as are Sabito and Tomioka. Sanemi said the whole thing wasn’t worth his time.” Shinobu explained as she took her own seat at the fire, motioning for (Y/n) to sit next to her.

“Did you even really invite Tomioka?” Tengen snorted.

“Of course I did, but as you all know, Tomioka is a wet blanket so he declined and Sabito decided to stay with him.” Shinobu clapped her hands against her thighs, “Now, enough about them. Let’s get the festivities started, shall we? Mitsuri, you brought the goods?”

“I sure did!” Mitsuri cheered, taking the nearly overflowing backpack she had been toting off of her shoulders. It landed in the dirt with a heavy thud. “I’ve got s’more fixings, jiffy pop, chips, sodas, water, hotdogs...”

“Wow Mitsuri, you really went all out. How did you carry it all?” (Y/n) marveled.

Mitsuri flexed one of her biceps, smacking the muscle with her hand. “Strength, pure will power and an intense love of all things delicious!” She said, her lips curled into an adorable smile.

The counselor fire started out great. For the first hour they all talked and ate, enjoying the warmth of the fire and the twinkle of the stars, laughing with each other as they recalled the memories that they had made over the years.

But like anything else, the conversation dried to a slow trickle and most of the food had been polished off. The once hearty blaze of the fire was now a low flame with glowing embers. Shinobu took it as her cue to begin the main event.

(Y/n) blinked at the sudden brightness that flashed beside them. They squinted against the light and saw that Shinobu was brandishing a flashlight, highlighting her face for a moment before moving the light to cast shadows over the sinister smile growing across her face.

“Anyone have a scary story they’d like to share or are you all content to dive into the main event?” Shinobu asked, placing her free hand confidently over her chest.

“Oo! I got one, Shinobu! Pick me!” Mitsuri called, calling out in her seat beside Iguro.

“Alright, catch!” Shinobu tossed the flashlight to Mitsuri who caught it with an excited squee.

“Okay, so, um.. oh! Once, there was this girl who woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t go back to sleep. She decided that she wanted a midnight snack and remembered that there was still a piece of her favorite raspberry cheesecake left. A perfect creamy treat! She could practically taste it already.”

Mitsuri wiggled on the log, leaning forward in her excitement. Light from the fire illuminated the green tips of her hair making them appear to glow.

“So she got out of her warm and comfy bed and crept into the dark, cold hallway, thump thump thump, and down the squeaky stairs, squeak squawk squeak, until she finally made it to the kitchen.

Mitsuri reached out towards the fire with her free hand and made a motion like grabbing a door, slowly pulling it back.

“She opened the refrigerator door and then—“ Mitsuri slapped her hand down upon her thigh with startling force, “to her absolute horror, she remembered that she had eaten the last piece of cheesecake at lunch the previous day! There was no more cheesecake to be had, and she had to settle for confetti cake ice cream when what she was really craving was the cheesecake!”

Mitsuri shook her head sorrowfully, and Iguro rubbed a soothing hand over her back while she collected herself.

“The end.” Mitsuri finished, clicking the flashlight off.

“Haha! Good one Mitsuri. The emotion behind your tale made it feel so real!” Kyoujirou loudly proclaimed. Shinobu giggled from her seat beside (Y/n) who also couldn’t help but laugh as well.

“It was real!” Mitsuri said seriously. “It happened to me just a couple weeks ago!” she shuddered.

“I don’t know, that was hardly scary Kanroji.” Tengen shrugged.

“I’d like to see you do better!” Mitsuri pouted.

“I could, but I’d rather let Kochou get on with her activities. Her knee is bouncing. Impatient, Kochou?”

“Ha ha! That it is!” Kyoujirou laughed.

“I can wait,” Shinobu countered, her leg ceased its bouncing due to being caught. “Does anyone else want to share a story?”

A chorus of head shakes met Shinobu’s question and she shrugged, a sly smiling curling at her lips.

“Very well then, Mitsuri, the flashlight please.”

“You got it!” Mitsuri cheered, tossing the light back to Shinobu.

Shinobu clicked the light back on, her eyes roamed over her audience one by one.

“Have you all heard of the serial killer Douma the Cannibal?” Shinobu asked.

“Of course,” Iguro spoke up. “He killed at least seventy women throughout the 1910s until well into the 1920s. However, their still connecting cold case murders to him even now. Some experts believe he could have killed well over two hundred. A really despicable monster to say the least.”

“Very true.” Shinobu nodded solemnly, “His parents ran a cult, believing he was some kind of messiah or deity. They let him do whatever he wished. It started with the killings of small animals but quickly escalated once that had lost its appeal. We don’t know much of motivations, but it’s believed he killed simply because he enjoyed it. Famously developing a taste for his victims after he ran out of places to store them.”

(Y/n) shivered, clutching themself in a hug as they waited for Shinobu to continue. This was worse than any old ghost story, the girl beside them was talking about an actual person! Well, at least he was dead right? Right?

“He was apprehended right here in this very clearing actually.” Shinobu said, looking around at the dark forest that surrounded them “The mob hung him, strung him up in one of these trees, hence the name Hangman’s Clearing.”

(Y/n) swallowed thickly. Why here, he couldn’t be dead someplace else? And they made a fucking summer camp here, what the actual fuck? Suddenly the woods seemed much more sinister.

“He deserved it of course,” Shinobu continued with a sigh, “but just think of what we could have learned if they chained him up instead. There are still many bodies unaccounted for. But perhaps,” Shinobu turned to (Y/n), making them jump a little as her hand slid behind them to pick up a box.

“But perhaps tonight, in the field where he gasped for his last breaths, we can learn something from beyond.”

Oh hell to the fucking no. She was holding a goddamn ouija board and matching planchette.

(Y/n) felt the hairs on the back of their neck rise to attention. There was no way, how could they get themself out of this? Calling upon the spirit of a serial killer was not what they had signed up for. Everyone else however, seemed to lean in and stare with excitement at the prospect, even Mitsuri quickly hopped out of her seat to sit on Shinobu’s other side.

“Oo, oo! Shinobu what a good idea!” she cheered.

A good idea? Mitsuri, honey, what is wrong with you, respectfully. (Y/n) held their face in their hand. That girl had been their only chance of escape, but she seemed just as invested as everyone else!

“Thank you, let’s get this set up then, shall we?” Shinobu grinned.

Tengen and Kyoujirou pushed the logs around into a makeshift table and everyone kneeled around it. Shinobu placed the board and planchette neatly in the middle, beckoning everyone to place a finger on the planchette.

(Y/n) jolted to attention as Shinobu placed her hand over theirs, giving them a questioning glance.

“(Y/n), are you still with us?” She teased.

“Yeah, sorry.” They gulped, watching in dismay as Shinobu smiled at them and pulled their hand up to the board, curling all fingers but one and playfully pushing it against the planchette before placing her own over the wood. There was no getting out of this.

Shinobu then went on about how the board worked and what not, (Y/n) didn’t really listen, too busy trying to find their happy place and pretend they weren’t there.

“Are there any spirits with us tonight?” Shinobu asked, pulling (Y/n) out of their head at the most inopportune moment.

At first there was no movement, for which (Y/n) was thankful, but ever so slowly the planchette did move.

“K-Kyou, you aren’t pushing it are you?” (Y/n) couldn’t help but ask.

“Not at all my friend!” Kyoujirou heartily replied as the planchette continued moving in (Y/n)’s direction.

The fact that it was moving in their direction wasn’t the issue, but rather the fact that (Y/n)’s corner of the board had ‘yes’ written on it.

“Ah, a yes! This is so exciting!” Mitsuri wiggled.

“Nice, how flamboyant!” Tengen added, pumping his free fist.

“What is your name spirit?” Shinobu continued.

(Y/n) let out a shaky breath as the planchette moved away from them. Watching with dread as it skimmed across the board.

‘D’

‘O’

‘U’

‘M’

‘A’

Fuck.

“Where are the victims you buried in these woods, you worthless, demonic bastard?” Shinobu tensed beside (Y/n), concentrating heavily on the board, her tone was commanding as she demanded an answer.

(Y/n) would have found it extremely attractive if they weren’t already scared out of their mind. The taunting of a serial killer ghost was the last thing they wanted to be a part of. Especially if they were talking demons, (Y/n) was too young to die like this. Well, they’d never be at an age where death by demon possession would seem favorable, but that was not the point!

The planchette moved across several letters and (Y/n) lost track of what was being spelled out. Which was just as well, ignorance is bliss after all, right? They waited for the others to figure it out with bated breath.

“Follow the sounds of the woods and we’ll find the signs, hm?” Iguro muttered. “Sounds like a trap.”

“What does it matter? Not like ghosts exist anyway. This is all a part of the ambiance, right Shinobu?” Tengen laughed, laying back on his forearms.

“I wasn’t pushing the planchette if that’s what you are suggesting, Uzui.” Shinobu answered seriously. “But if anyone else wants to confess to it, by all means don’t waste our time.”

“I didn’t!” Mitsuri denied while Iguro shook his head.

“I didn’t either.” (Y/n) also spoke up, an undetectable tremor pulled at their vocal chords.

“Nor have I!” Kyoujirou boomed.

“Then there is only one way to know for sure that this is all legitimate,” Shinobu said, brandishing the small lantern she had lit to illuminate the board, “we break off and search the surrounding woods.”

“Break off? Like, search in the dark alone?” (Y/n) couldn’t help but ask for clarification. Couldn’t they all just head back to the cabins together and watch a movie on Tengen’s smuggled DVD player and forget this whole mess?

“No, not alone,” Shinobu smiled, looping her free arm through (Y/n)’s, “that would be too dangerous. Pairs would be better.”

“I’m going with Kanroji.” Iguro immediately declared. Mitsuri wiggled and clapped, happy to go with him.

“Guess that leaves you and me,” Tengen grinned, fist bumping Kyoujirou, “let’s kick some ghost ass!”

“Yes!” Kyoujirou enthusiastically replied.

“Great, then it’s decided!” Shinobu nodded, squeezing (Y/n)’s arm closer to her as she stood up, pulling them up with her. “Meet back here in half an hour?”

A range of approvals sounded and once they synced up their watches (since phones weren’t allowed at camp), the three separate pairs went off in different directions into the dark woods.

(Y/n) used to love these woods, coming back summer after summer, it was one of the things they looked forward to every year. It only took about twenty minutes for them to learn to hate it as Shinobu led them through the bramble and roots by lantern light.

“You’re being awfully quiet, something on your mind?” Shinobu asked after an owl hooted in the distance, startling (Y/n) a bit.

“No, I’m just,” (Y/n) made a vague gesture with their hands, “concentrating, I guess.” They finished lamely.

Shinobu hummed in amusement, “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. It is all rather exciting isn’t it? I hope we find something.”

“Mhmm.” (Y/n) forced a smile as Shinobu looked over her shoulder at them. It quickly fell from their face once Shinobu turned to face front again, guiding (Y/n) further down the darkened path.

(Y/n) had never been more tense in their life. They didn’t know if they were thankful for Shinobu’s commentary as they kept walking or if they wanted her to be quiet so they could hear any approaching threat. Whatever the case, they kept their mouth shut. Only answering Shinobu with one word responses, affirming or negative noises or just the shake or nod of their head when Shinobu would look back at them. If Shinobu thought it odd, she didn’t comment on her fellow counselor’s behavior.

After awhile, (Y/n) attempted to pretend they were somewhere else again. Still with Shinobu, but somewhere nice like an amusement park or a beach at sunset... maybe sunrise instead. (Y/n) was jostled from their musings when Shinobu stopped suddenly, causing (Y/n) to bump into her.

“Did you hear that?” She whispered, spiking (Y/n) blood pressure through the roof.

“No.” They squeaked.

“Listen.” Shinobu hushed, pulling (Y/n) down to their knees, they both crouched to the ground, listening so hard their ears were buzzing.

A snapping of a branch in the distance, the rustle of leaves.

“What,” (Y/n) swallowed, “what was that?” They whispered.

“Shhh,” Shinobu exhaled, covering (Y/n)’s lips with her fingers as she continued to listen.

It was quiet again, and as Shinobu gave up on listening and removed her fingers from over (Y/n)’s mouth—

“KYYYYAAAAAHHHH!”

A loud scream could be heard far off in the trees, then everything went quiet again for all of three seconds before (Y/n) absolutely lost it.

“Oh my god!” They gasped, clutching Shinobu’s arm tightly to their chest, their eyes wide and unfocused. “Oh my god, that sounded like Mitsuri! Oh god, oh fuck! Shit!”

“(Y/n)?” Shinobu looked at them, a bewildered expression molding her face as she observed their sudden outburst. She quickly moved to comfort them though, setting the lantern down to hug them, rubbing their back as it shuddered with ragged breaths. “Hey, it’s alright. You’re okay.”

“For now!” (Y/n) frantically retorted. “It’s only a matter of time before whatever got Mitsuri and Iguro come for us!”

“(Y/n), wait—“ Shinobu tried to calm them, but they just kept spiraling.

“Why did I agree to this? I should have left the second you took out that ouija board, but no! I stayed just so I could spend more time with you and now we’re gonna be murdered by a demon serial killer ghost before I could finally work up the courage to ask you out!”

“(Y/n)!” Shinobu tried again, speaking a bit sharper this time, forcing (Y/n) to look at her and hoping to calm them with her attentions. “Hey, we’re going to be alright. You’re alright. Listen to me, okay? I set this all up.”

“Huh?” (Y/n) weakly croaked.

“I messed with the ouija board. We weren’t really communicating with anything. I planned for us to split off into groups. We heard Mitsuri scream because—“

“Who’s ready to die!?” A loud maniacal laugh sounded behind them and a chainsaw roared to life.

(Y/n) screamed, otherwise paralyzed in Shinobu’s embrace. Their head tucked under Shinobu’s with their cheek pressed snugly against her chest as they waited for the chainsaw blade to tear through their skin.

“Sanemi, turn that off right now! Stop, damn you!” Shinobu yelled over the noise.

“Okay, okay!” the false murderer, Sanemi, turned off the whirring blade with a tisk. “I was only following your own instructions, Kochou. Why are you looking at me like I was really gonna... oh damn, are they okay?” Sanemi winced, gesturing at (Y/n) quivering in Shinobu’s arms like a leaf.

“Do they look okay to you?” Shinobu huffed, more angry at herself than Sanemi. She continued rubbing at (Y/n)’s back, trying to coax them out of their tight ball while Sanemi stood by awkwardly at the side, rubbing his neck and looking into the woods.

“I’ll uh, gather everybody up and take ‘em back to camp.” Sanemi eventually spoke up. “You have things all under control here?”

“Yes, please go. Thank you Sanemi.” Shinobu shooed him off, not even looking away from (Y/n) as she did so. As Sanemi lumbered back into the forest Shinobu continued to help (Y/n) calm down.

“It’ll be okay, you’ll be alright. I’m so sorry. It’s all over now. It’s just you and me and I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you.” Shinobu promised. “Can you look at me (Y/n), please?”

Ever so slowly, (Y/n) pulled back. They were still visibly shaken and meek which pulled heavily on Shinobu’s heart.

“I’m sorry.” (Y/n) shuddered, closing in on themself as they looked away from Shinobu, “I ruined your event.”

“Hey, you didn’t ruin anything.” Shinobu spoke in a no-nonsense tone. “I should have noticed you weren’t having a good time.”

“I was having a good time at first. I just really wanted to spend time with you, I thought I could handle it.”

“You can spend time with me whenever you want; all you need to do is ask.” Shinobu smiled softly. “And if anything makes you uncomfortable I want you to tell me right away, okay?”

“Okay,” (Y/n) sniffed.

“I think we’ve spent enough time in the woods tonight.” Shinobu stood, holding her hand out for (Y/n) to take.

“Yeah,” (Y/n) chuckled weakly, accepting the hand and rising to their feet. Shinobu kept her hold on them as she picked up the lantern and guided (Y/n) back to the cabins.

Once they reached the clearing, the other counselors involved in the night’s festivities surrounded them, making sure everything was alright. Mitsuri gave (Y/n) a long, comforting hug while Kyoujirou squeezed their shoulder warmly. Tengen and Iguro shared a few kind sentiments and Sanemi grumbled out a sincere apology for scaring them so badly.

As everyone was turning in to their bunks for the night, Shinobu stopped in front of (Y/n)’s bunk as they were pulling back the covers, waving Tengen’s contraband DVD player in her hand.

“Hey, so, I figured you might have a hard time sleeping tonight. Would you want to watch a movie with me?” She asked.

“Yeah, I think that would help a lot. As long as it’s not horror anyway.” (Y/n) added.

“No, I’ve learned my lesson,” Shinobu shook her head making herself at home in (Y/n)’s bunk as she untangled the ear buds, “a romantic comedy is just about as far from horror as one can get I think.”

(Y/n) tried to give Shinobu her own space, but the small bunk didn’t leave much room for that and Shinobu didn’t seem interested in preserving her personal space anyway. Instead pulling (Y/n) to rest against her side after she set everything up.

“Are you comfortable?” She asked, finger poised over the play button.

“Yeah,” (Y/n) nodded against her shoulder, “thanks.”

“Of course.” Shinobu nodded, pressing play.

As the movie played they quietly made fun of it together and commented on the events as they transpired. Once earning Tengen’s wrath for laughing a little too loud while the rest were trying to sleep.

“You know,” (Y/n) whispered during one of the lulls in the story, “if you wanted to watch a horror movie with me some other time I think I could do it if you stayed by my side like this.” They bashfully admitted.

“Well, there is one coming out that I’d like to see this fall...” Shinobu informed with a teasing smile and (Y/n) scoffed lightly.

“I don’t like how quickly you came up with a plan, but I’ll look forward to it.” They said.

“Hey, it’s still a ways off. I hope to have several tamer dates between now and then.” Shinobu casually dropped.

“You do?” (Y/n)’s face grew warm, “With me?” They added just in case, making Shinobu giggle and nod her head.

“Yes, with you. So think of what you want to do for our next free day.”

(Y/n) grinned and snuggled further into Shinobu’s side.

Eventually they fell asleep while Shinobu’s fingers lightly scratched the back of their neck. She turned off the movie and carefully set the DVD player on the floor below. Then she curled up against (Y/n) and fell asleep as well.

[seabass17]

All that’s left | Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! Reader

A/n: So, this is... a different reader in comparison from the one in the first part but I kinda like it? Anyway, Im considering making a third part and im thinking it'll contain some smut. I used google translator so please don't judge me. Tell me what you think. Happy reading.

All that's left pt. 1

Warnings: angst, mentions of scars, swearing, implied smut?

Word count: 3.263

Summary: After moving from her life in New York, away from the Avengers and him, she finds happiness and a life that she actually enjoys, but that seems to last little when she spots the familiar jet on the roof of the building she lives in. Is she ready to face them? To face him?

*Three months later*

The warm air surrounding my body made me take a deep breath and unconsciously smile. I was happy, I was free, I was whole. I was with my neighbor drinking coffee in our usual spot, which was a cafe near the main street of the place that I decided was going to become my new home.

“Продолж��й рассказывать мне о своем боссе, который сводит тебя с ума” (Keep on telling me about your boss who drives you crazy) Andrei said making me laugh and shake my head.

“Не о чем говорить, он просто засранец, который дает мне слишком много работы и заставляет меня плакать” (Nothing to talk about, he's just an asshole who gives me too much work and makes me want to cry) I laughed. I had met Andrei a week after I moved in and there was an immediate connection. No, it wasn’t in a romantic one, god no, we were just really good friends that had a lot in common.

“Now now, that was not what i saw the other day when i went to pick you up from work” He said with a playful smirk plastered on his light brown face. I gasped, a fake indignant expression on my face while my hand went to my chest. He laughed loudly. “Don’t play that card, I saw you!” he added

“I don’t know what you are talking about” I said, trying to fight the smile that tried to come out but failing miserably, we both laughed.

He and I had become quite close in the little time that we had known each other. He was an American with a Russian name. He explained that his mother was from the states while his father was a russian spy, they fell in love against all odds and eventually, Andrei was brought to this world. When he was fifteen his father died and he and his mom went to America, where he finished high school and surprisingly, entered the military. He did two tours before he decided that he had enough and returned to Russia. Hence why he could speak both Russian and English fluently. As for me, I told him that I was in some sort of organization that worked for the government, and that’s why I knew russian. He believed me, thank God,  I didn’t want to talk about how I was part of the Avengers and why I left. Obviously I will tell him when the time is right and I know that he can be fully trusted.

“Oh, come on Ames, are you going to tell me that you don’t like him one bit? Not in the slightest?” he asked, smiling and I shook my head. He stayed silent for a second and stared at me, like he was considering whether he should ask me something or keep quiet. “Is it because of him?” he finally asked, watching me closely to see my reaction. I felt my stomach twist at the mention of him. Of course it was because of him, because of them, I couldn’t afford getting hurt and betrayed one more time. Andrei didn’t know his name, or theirs for that matter, so I smiled weakly and nodded.

“Yeah, I know it sounds stupid but… I just can’t afford getting hurt, not again, not anymore” I said looking at my hands.

“I understand, believe me I do” he said, his hand reaching out to hold mine. I looked up to find his brown eyes looking for mine, I saw nothing but genuine love -the friendly kind- in them. I smiled and squeezed his hand. He was going to say something but his phone rang; a notification. He withdrew his hand to look at his phone and the moment he did, people around us started getting up and running in the same direction. I looked at him confused to find him frowning at his phone.

“What is it?” i asked.

“The Avengers are here…” He said and my heart skipped a beat and my body went rigid. Andrei noticed. “What 's wrong?”. Well, there’s no use keeping him from the truth anymore.

“So, remember when I told you that I worked for an organization for the government? Okay don’t freak out and hate me but, here it goes” I took a deep breath. “That organization was called The Red Room were they trained me from a very young age to be a perfect cold-blooded killer, years later i escaped and was on the run until i got a new identification, name, address, new everything and then joined the avengers to amend the wrongs I made in the past. To my luck, it didn’t go great because it ended up breaking me the same way The Red Room did, so I left to find a fresh start and came here where I met you. Please don’t hate me” I concluded in one breath. Andrei was silent with a straight face, which was hard to read, and eventually after a few seconds that felt like an eternity and shrugged his shoulders. WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN.

“Believe it or not, I've heard worse” he simply said

“Worse than finding out that your best friend is a train killer and former avenger?” i asked incredulously and he tilted his head and smirked

“US Agent mother and Russian spy father” He said. I laughed and he followed right after. “So, I'm guessing we are running away?” he asked. Say what now?

“We?” I asked, almost in shock to which he simply nodded, “You don’t think im just gonna let you go like that, please, is not that easy to get rid of me” he snorted. “And I'm supposing Amelia is not your real name either, given the fact that you ran off,” he added. Damn, he is good.

“Y/n, y/n y/l/n” I said and he slowly smiled

“Well y/n, nice to meet you, my name is Andrei Petrova” he said, extending his hand, i repeated his action with the same smile. “I’ve got to say, I like the name y/n more than Amelia '' he added and laughed. We were brought back to the matter at hand when the screaming of the people were getting louder. I snapped my head up and saw the familiar jet on the roof of the building where I was living.

“Here’s what we are going to do, I’m going to my apartment and buy us some time while you go get a car and,” i handed him my card “you are going to get all the money from my bank account. I will meet you in front of the cafe that’s two blocks away from my place”

“Are you going to be okay?” He asked with clear worry in his eyes. I smiled and nodded

“Yes, I promised. Now go” I said before he got up and ran. I sighed and went to my apartment. Was I really going to do this? After months, was I ready to face them, already knowing the truth? Well, guess I'm going to find out.

Once in the building I decided to programmed the lights to go out in 50 minutes and then I went to the elevator, wanting to appear as normal as possible even though I felt like my heart was going to explode from how fast it was beating inside my rib cage. When the elevator stopped at my floor I walked until I was standing in front of my door. I didn’t need to wait and confirm, I knew they knew I was here, now there’s only one thing left to do. But before I did anything, the door creaked open.

*10 hours earlier*

Bucky paced from one side to the other, finding himself incapable of staying put. Natasha sat silently on her chair, Tony was in the front with his head in between his hands, Steve was resting on the side of the wall looking at the floor, Bruce was just standing there holding his chin analyzing everyone in the room. Sam sat on the couch looking through his phone, Vision was sitting next to Wanda on the other couch, while Clint and Thor were sitting on the other chairs. Peter had some school stuff to deal with like the teenager that he was. They’ve been looking for her for the past three months, and about a week ago, a picture was found of someone that looked exactly like her, all except her hair that was a bit shorter and the color was different, but other than that, it was practically her.

Not wanting to get their hopes -or rather enthusiasm- up, they decided to look deeper and found out that the picture was taken a month ago in the city of Magadan located in Russia. They found out that before three months, the name Amelia Agapov, didn’t exist. The more they looked into it, the more they were convinced that it was her.

“The mission report from Agent Carter arrived, should i put it on the screen?” the voice of the AI filled the room. The team had been waiting for that report for days, the nerves of the question that lingered in the air ‘was it her?’ being present for that time only grew stronger as Stark asked FRIDAY to project the report on the screen.

Pictures were shown, most of them were about this woman buying in the market, having coffee with a guy, but there was one, where her face was looking straight into the lens of the camera, and it was that picture that left the people in the room absolutely rigid. It was her.

“We found her…” Tony said in a whisper. Everybody kept their gaze on the picture on the big screen. After months looking for her, they finally had found her. To everyone, it was like someone just discovered something new, a kind of relief and anxiety all at the same time.

“Suit up, we’re going to get her” Steve said to the group, but see, it was the choice of words from Cap that Bucky found unsettling.

“Get her? Like she is some kind of criminal?” he said, looking at his best friend dead in the eye. Steve opened his mouth to say something but Tony beat him to it.

“She was trained by The Red Room to be an assassin, we can expect nothing more from her '' He said, trying to calm Bucky down, but instead it only caused him to get angrier, and not only him.

“So was I” Natasha said, her voice low that could scare anyone to the bone if they weren’t so used to her.

"It's different" Tony said

“How is it different?” Wanda said this time, “It wasn’t when you practically recluded me after I helped Ultron and tried to kill you all” she added.

Tony sighed and looked down, realizing that he might be overreacting.

“Let’s just get suit up and get on with it” Steve said, cutting the rather awkward silence that filled the room.

The avengers were suit up and on the quinjet in less that forty-five minutes, and they were in Madagan in nine hours, it took them an hour to find her building, and once they found it, Clint landed the jet on the roof and they all got out and looked for her apartment. Funny enough, it was the same number as the one she used to live in New York; 108. They waited for what seemed an eternity until they heard footsteps just outside the door. Suddenly, the air felt thick with anticipation, but Bucky couldn’t wait any longer so he crossed the living room in two steps and opened the door. She was standing there. Silence took over the entire apartment until she broke it.

“Well, are you going to move so that I can get inside my goddamn apartment Barnes?” she said expectantly. Bucky realized that he had been staring at her since he opened the door. Her hair was different, more wavy and a shade or two lighter. He moved to the side and she was able to see the rest of the team. This was going to be one hell of an evening.

Breathe. In… and out…

It was hard. Fuck. Okay i can do this.

“Well isn’t this nice. All the team back together again!” I said with sarcasm dripping from every letter.

“What the hell did we ever do to you?” Steve said firmly.

“Damn, getting straight into it. That’s okay” i shrugged as I went to my room but the sound of the blasters of Tony's suit stopped me.

“Stop, don’t take another step” He said, lifting his hands and I smiled.

“Really? Well unfortunately i have to change, so i’ll leave the door open if it makes you comfortable” i said as i continued to walk to my room, and like I said, i left the door open.

“Y-you don’t have to do that, you can…” Wanda said but trailed off. I had taken my shirt off; my scars were shown.

“So, Steve” I broke the silence as I put on a black shirt, “the thing that you did wasn’t as bad as tin man over there, but you still let Hydra take me the day we took out the helicaries” i added. His face got pale and started shaking his head.

“What? No, you made it out safe, you-” He started saying but i interrupted him

“You sure? Who do you think stopped Rumlow when he tried to interfere with the exchange of the chip when you were in the helicarrier with Bucky?” He started thinking for a moment until he realized what I said fell into place. “Yeah, I took one hell of a beating, and if that wasn’t enough, I fell to the water. I fell thirty floors down, and I alone got myself out, because I didn't have anyone to cover me or have my back” i concluded.

“Your scars…” Tony said this time and i turned to him

“Yeah, thanks to you Mr. Stark” i said and he looked at me. “Doctor said that 74% of my body is covered with scars, along with one or two burns”

“You were that girl in The Red Room” Natasha said, causing me to turn my head to look at her and I smiled cynically, “You are Eliza” she finished.

“Давно не виделись с Натальей” (Long time no see Natalia) i said and she looked at me in pure surprise in her faced. That’s something coming from the famous Black Widow.

“What about the rest of us y/n?”  Sam said this time, redirecting my attention from Natasha to the rest of the group. Thor was standing there holding his hammer, Bruce was next to the fridge, Clint was by the sink, Wanda was with Vision beside the kitchen table and Bucky was by the door. They were all looking at me. I took a look at the clock, I have to leave in less than thirty minutes.

“Long story short, Clint, Bruce, Sam, Wanda and Vision are the ones that didn’t do anything, so just chill out, you are still on my good side” I smiled and waved my hand.

“Hold on, but what did I do?” Thor asked and I looked at him.

“God it really is unfair how such a little thing can cause such a big problem. The first time you came down to earth, met Jane, bla bla bla… when her stuff was under custody of shield, and you took that notebook; they blamed me. I know it may seem weird because, how? Thing is, I was undercover at that time inside Shield, so when the notebook disappeared, guess who was the one that got beaten for it. I couldn’t move from the pain.”

Thor was standing completely still.

“Lady y/n…”

“How is it possible? I was there  and never saw you” Clint interrupted Thor.

“It was before the avengers, i was on the run and a girl's gotta eat. Don’t worry, I never gave them anything. Got the money and then killed them, they were nobodies” I shrugged off.

“So, that’s all you needed to know, so if you please leave my…” I said but then he interrupted me.

“No” I would be lying if I said it didn’t send shivers down my spine at his tone, and I hate even more that he noticed it. “You’re missing one doll” Well fuck me

I turned to see him and he was walking painfully slow towards me and I was praying for my legs to not give out.

“Barnes” I simply said, thanking God and all the saints that it didn’t come out as a whimper. I took a look at the clock once more. I have to leave. Now. “Such a shame, wish you had fought for us, I would have gone through hell and back for you, Buck” his eyes were looking straight to my own and I felt like he was staring at my bare soul. In a way, he was. I smiled and I saw behind my back that the team was looking at us, we’ve never been this close, not in public anyway. I standed on my tiptoes and reached for his right ear, he instinctively reached down so it was a bit easier for me.

“If you want to know, you’ll have to find me first дорогой” (Sweetheart) I whisper. Next thing, the light went out just like I programmed it to and I slid beside Bucky to reach out to the door and to the hall. I could hear the team screaming ‘what the hell just happened’. I ran to the emergency stairs, and once out I could still feel him behind me, getting close. I went into an alley, having to detour, knowing that he eventually was going to catch up to me and I couldn't have him follow where I was really going. A few seconds later, I felt him caging me to the wall on the alley, both of us breathing heavily. His flesh hand went to my throat and his metal one rested on the wall.

“Given a different occasion, I would have loved this, don’t get me wrong, I still love how you…”

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked huskily and I smiled.

“I told you, you’ll have to wait until you find me again. Alone.” i said

“Come on Barnes, do you really think that the charade of being your personal fuck toy would last forever?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It wasn’t like that, i…” he said but trailed off. The pain in my chest starting and clenching my heart.

“There it is…” i said lowly, the hurt in my voice evident, “listen, i’d love to keep talking about how you used me, but like i said,” i got close to his face, my nose touching his, “find me to found out” after that,  I raised my knee kicking him right in between his legs.

He let out a pained groan and fell to the floor, causing his grip in my neck to give out. I took advantage and ran. Two blocks away, I saw Andrei. When he saw me running to him, he immediately got in the car and turned the engine on, then I got in.

“Drive, fast” it was the first thing i said

“Where?” he asked while we took off. I smiled and looked at him

“You’ll see”

-

-

-

Taglist

@silentkiller2374 @vikingqueenlove @girlfriday007 @supraveng

[americancowgirl19]

Acceptance

Summary: You find the love of your life in the middle of a highway.

Warnings: violence, soulmate, fluff, angst?, implied smut

Reader: Female Reader

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 3,680

A/n: This was requested by @fyeahtaylorp​ : Could you please do a Bucky Barnes x plus size female reader imagine where you see black and white until you meet your soulmate and they meet during the winter solider when he’s not really him and he’s protective of her and she works along side Steve and she has weather manipulation powers and they meet again and he’s still protective and there is smut please. - I am so freaking sorry that it took me forever to get this written and published and I didn’t get to the smut, so sorry. I also changed it just a little bit so I hope you still like it! 

Masterlist

“Hey, are you Sam Wilson?” You question, standing on the man's front doorstep. He frowns his eyebrows, crosses his arms, and sizes you up. You know you don’t look like much, but your mother always said that looks were deceiving. “Can I come in?”

“And who are you?” He asks, standing tall in the doorway.

“She’s backup,” Natasha states, coming into view. You instantly send a smile her way. “We can trust her,” She reassures him. Sam presses his lips together but nods and moves to let you in.

“You look good... All things considered,” You compliment her. She looked like her naturally beautiful self with only a couple of scratches and bruises on her skin.

“It’s been a rough few days,” Natasha tells you. “We could use your help,” You smirk and cock your head to the side.

“That’s what I’m here for. Where’s Cap?” Once the question leaves your lips, the golden boy comes into the room. “Heard you were in a tight spot,” You state when he looks at you with arched eyebrows. His eyes move from you to Natasha, who gives an innocent shrug.

“We could use her help,” Natasha states. “We can trust her,” She vouches. Steve looks hesitant but nods before giving you a polite smile.

“Rough few days, huh?” You mutter, looking at Natasha, sensing that her words were a bit of an understatement. “What exactly are we up against?”

Natasha and Steve both begin to fill you and Sam in on what’s been going on. You weren’t surprised Shield had been compromised. You didn’t trust anybody outside your small group. You preferred being on your own in a secluded area.

However, Natasha is one of the select few that has your complete trust. Therefore, when she called, saying she needed help, you came without hesitation.

“So, the question is: who in Shield could launch a domestic missile strike?” Natasha questions.

“Pierce,” Steve realizes.

“Who happens to be sitting on top of the most secure building in the world,” Natasha sighs.

“But he’s not working alone. Zola’s algorithm was on the Lemurian Star,”

“So was Jasper Sitwell,”

“So, the real question is: how do the two most wanted people in Washington kidnap a Shield officer in broad daylight?”

“The answer is: you don’t,” Sam states, dropping a military file on the table. Natasha pulls it toward her.

“What’s this?”

“Call it a resume,”

“Is this Bakhmala? The Khalid Khandil mission, that was you,” Natasha states. “You didn’t say he was a para-rescue,” She mumbles, looking at Steve.

“Is this Riley?” He asks, and Sam nods.

“I heard they couldn’t bring in the choppers because of the RPGs. What did you use, a stealth chute?”

“No. These,” Sam corrects Natasha. Steve flips through the file.

“I thought you said you were a pilot,”

“I never said pilot,” Sam smirks with a hint of smugness. It’s enough to get you grinning. You decide that you like him.

“I can’t ask you to do this, Sam. You got out for a good reason,”

“Dude, Captain America needs my help. There’s no better reason to get back in,”

“So, where can we get one of those?” You wonder, peaking at the pictures. “I don’t think Walmart has those in stock,”

“The last one is at Fort Meade,” Sam answers, an amused grin on his lips. “Behind three guarded gates and a twelve-inch steel wall,”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Steve assures him.

“I’m assuming you have a plan?” You ask, Steve. “Or is this a wing-it kind of mission?” Natasha grins a bit before they start laying out the plan.

Your part of the plan was to keep them from dying, basically. Nobody knew that you were involved. You were to stay in the background and only intervene if needed. Knowing Natasha, you would need to step in sooner rather than later.

You watched them from a distance. You smirked when you saw Sam flying around with his wings. They were a cool contraption; you weren’t going to lie.

Borrowing someone’s car, you followed them from a distance. You watched for anyone suspicious. Everything seemed normal until someone caught your eye.

This, someone, was dressed in black, but he stood out from everything around you. Like everyone else who had yet to meet the one they’re destined to be with, the world is dull and colorless. Only after meeting and accepting your soulmate could you see the world the way it’s supposed to be seen, full of color.

So, while his attire is completely black, his pale skin and silver arm stand out. You knew this was the man, The Winter Soldier, that Natasha and Steve had warned you about. You knew you should have warned them, but you were frozen by the revelation.

When he leaped from the car he was on and onto the one with your friends, you snapped out of your daze. Cursing, you sped up to try and get to them, but by the time you were able to weave around traffic and catch up, their car had crashed.

“Some backup you are, Y/n,” You mutter to yourself. You slam on the breaks and put the car in park before climbing out. You race down the highway and toward the men shooting at Natasha and Sam.

You stop a few paces away from the shooters and begin to conjure fog to cover their escape. Before long, Natasha can get away, and the attention is on you instead of Sam.

Able to see through your fog clearly, your search for your soulmate. When you find him, you send a powerful gust of wind in his direction. The force sends him flying back and through a car. You wince, but at least he’s not within the fog’s grasp any longer.

You move around as bullets come flying your way. You had given up your position, but it had been necessary. Once you find a safer place to stand, you begin to manipulate the fog once more. Your breath is now visible as the air around you drops rapidly in temperature.

To add to the cold, you begin to make the air thinner in their area. You see them shivering, and some drop to the ground due to the lack of oxygen.

In the corner of your eye, you notice one of the men had escaped the fog’s perimeter. He aims his gun at you but forces the fog to become thicker as you slip into its protective cover. Within the fog, you notice that more than one man has escaped.

You huff in annoyance, but at least you have eliminated a couple of the problem people. You see a few people standing at the edge of the highway shooting down where you assume Natasha, Steve, and Sam are.

Before you deal with them, you turn to the one that continues to hunt you just outside of the fog. Giving him an annoyed glare, one he doesn’t see, you point your hand at him. Like Palpatine, you release streams of lightning from your fingertips.

The man screams in pain and drops to the floor. You continue your ministrations until his screams stop. By then, however, the fog has dissipated, allowing the others to see you. Their guns turn to you, but before you can defend yourself, a stream of bullets lodge into their heads.

Your eyes snap to the source and notice the Soldier standing there. You both stare at each other before he stalks to the edge of the bridge and jobs down to the lower level. You race to the edge to watch him stomp off a crushed car and continue onward as nothing happened.

“Oh, no, you’re not getting away that easily,” You mutter. Lifting your hands, you manipulate the air around yourself. It lifts you off the ground and gently sets you down beside the car the Soldier had crushed when he landed.

You run in the direction the Soldier had gone. You see him locked in a fight with Steve. It looks like Cap finally met his match.

A groan catches your attention. Your breath catches in your throat. You jog over to Natasha and inspect her bullet wound.

“This is gonna hurt,” You warn her. She looks at you before closing her eyes. When she nods, you place your hands on either side of her wounded shoulder. You conjure enough heat to cauterize the wound.

“I hate it when you do that,” She mumbles. You smile at her.

“Well, stop getting shot, and I won’t have to do it,” You wink at her. “You’ll be alright,” You assure her before standing up. You turn back toward the Soldier and Steve. For the first time, you see him without his mask.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” He asks Steve before aiming a pistol at Steve. Your breath hitches again when Sam comes in and kicks the Soldier away from Steve. When he regains his footing, you notice Natasha aiming a grenade launcher at him.

“No!” You shout, shoving Natasha, forcing her to miss her target. When you look back, you notice the Soldier is gone. Before you can react, a collar is locked around your neck, preventing your mutation from working.

“It was him... He looked right at me like he didn’t even know me,” Steve mutters.

“How’s that even possible? It was like 70 years ago,” Sam states as Natasha stares at you intently. You avoid her gaze and continue to stare at Steve, wanting to know as much about him as possible.

“Zola. Bucky’s whole unit was captured n ‘43, Zola experimented on him. Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall. They must have found him and...”

“None of that's your fault, Steve,” Natasha assures him.

“Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky,” Steve whispers.

Great, my soulmate is a ninety-something supersoldier that’s in Hydra. You think sarcastically. Although, if he doesn’t even know who he is, how can he willingly work for Hydra? He protected me from his own men. Hydra soldiers don’t do that. There’s hope for him.

“Oh, you’re on our side?” You ask when one of the masked persons beats the sit out of the other two. “Oh, hey Maria,” You greet when she takes her helmet off.

“Ah, that thing was squeezing my brain... Who’s this guy?”

After making the grand escape, you’re all lead towards a hideout. There you find Nick Fury, who’s apparently not dead. After an argument on how to go about things, you prepare to take on Shield/Hydra once again.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or am I going to have to start guessing?” Natasha questions. You glance up at her before looking back down at your feet.

“You’re smart, Nat... I’m sure you’ve already figured it out,” You whispers. Natasha doesn’t say anything for a minute. She then comes toward you and sits down.

“Can you stop him?” Nat asks. You meet her look.

“If I can... You won’t be seeing me for a while,” You tell her. She sends you a small smile.

“Do what you have to do... Just be careful,” She advises. You smile, bumping your shoulder with hers.

“You’re the one who should be careful... Once I find him, I’m going to get him to leave with me. You’ll be in the fight the whole time,” You remind her.

“I’ll be fine,’ Natasha whispers. “Just get him and go,” You smile and slowly nod.

With those words said, the two of you leave the room. You approach Shield with Steve and Sam. The two of them go their separate ways while you start your search for the Solider... For Bucky.

During your search, you take down as many Hydra agents as possible. You wanted to help the cause, but finding Bucky was more important.

It wasn’t long before you were officially labeled a major threat. This meant that their focus shifted toward you. Things were slowly getting out of hand, but you continue to literally take the air from their lungs and the warmth from their bodies until they died. You offered a foggy cover for the Shield agents that were your allies while shooting your enemies down with bolts of lightning.

When you began to get surrounded, someone came to your aid. He had found you before you found him. He didn’t waste ammo—a single bullet to the head of those around you.

You two shared another look. Instead of looking into sunglasses, this time, you were looking in his eyes. Everything around him would continue to be black and white until he accepted you. You wondered if he could see in color. Despite not knowing him and him working for Hydra, you accepted him. You wanted him. You hoped that he would trust you.

You got lost in the beautiful color of his eyes that you forgot what was happening around you. When he moved to leave you and continue with his mission, you shouted his name. He froze, and you moved a few steps closer.

“Look at me... please,” You whisper to him. He remains motionless. “Your name is Bucky. You were friends with Steve Rogers,” His head turns slightly to you. “I don’t know what’s happened to you, nor do I know what you’ve been through, but I can tell you that things don’t have to be like this. You don’t have to be their weapon, their machine,” You risk a few steps closer to him. “I’m your soulmate. I will never hurt you. I only want you to be happy... To keep you safe,”

He stays still for a moment. He’s so still it’s as if he’s a statue. Then, he moves forward as if the words you just said didn’t matter to him. They probably didn’t. You weren’t going to give up that easily.

“Bucky,” You say again, latching your hand around his wrist. He whips around and wraps your throat in his metallic hand. You tense but don’t move. He’s not cutting off your air; it’s a warning. Your free hand lifts and covers his metal wrist. I won’t hurt you... and I won’t ever let them hurt you again,” You promise him. “Who cares about what’s going on here? It’s not our fight,” You tell him. “Come with me,”

“They’ll find us,” He whispers. You smile brightly.

“They’ve been looking for me for over a decade and haven’t come close,” You tell him. “They couldn’t find me then, and they certainly won’t find us now,” You assure him. “Please, come with me,”

Miraculously, he listens. The two of your leave the battle fairly easily. Anybody who gets in your way ends up dead. You switch your methods between sucking the air from his lungs to overheating or sudden frostbite. Bucky, while amazed by your abilities, settles for a simple bullet to the head. You two work with each other fluently.

You both stay away from populated areas. It’s harder within the city, but once you borrow another car and head into the countryside, it gets easier. You tell Bucky to stay in the car while you quickly buy him some comfortable clothes. Then, you drive him to your home. With your abilities, it’s impossible for anybody else to find, let alone get into, your home.

There’s an intense fog almost a mile thick around your property. Within the fog are intense temperatures. Some temperatures are too high or too low for a human to survive. Outside the fog, everything is normal and up to mother nature.

“Welcome to my home,” You say before climbing out of the car. He hesitantly follows you. “Nobody can come in without my consent,” You tell him. You walk to the house before slowing and turning back to him. “If you really want to leave, let me know... You may be a super soldier, but I’d be surprised if you could survive out there,” Bucky looks at the woods. “Come on; you must be hungry,”

You and Bucky live in silence for a long time. He doesn’t want to talk, and you don’t make him. You try to fill the silence with your ramblings, but it doesn’t always work to make him relax. He has nightmares at night, during the day as well. You want to help, but it’s a complicated situation.

It doesn’t help that he continues to be the only thing in color. He hasn’t accepted you yet. It hurts, but you don’t give up on him.

It takes a month for him to start conversations. It takes him even longer to hold those conversations for more than a few seconds. At this point, he’s knows everything about you while he’s still a mystery. To be fair, he’s still a mystery to himself.

You introduce him to the internet. There he can research himself and Steve. He learns a lot, and you find him behind the screen more often than not.

Around the end of the second month, Bucky seems to be relaxing even more. He still has his nightmares, he still is trying to find himself, but at the same time, it’s like he knows he’s safe. He knows nothing can’t get to him while he’s here. Yet he still won’t let you in.

In an attempt to get him to accept you, you try to do more for him. The meals you cook get more complicated, and you try to be more romantic and supportive. He entertains you but still keeps his distance.

It isn’t until the fourth month you begin to lose hope. You’ve done everything you can to get him to accept you. You’ve given him space, you’ve set him free, you’ve protected him and supported him. You have given him clothes and home, yet still, you get nothing.

You sit on the front porch. You’re thinking through everything. You know, four months, in retrospect, isn’t that long. It’ll take years for Bucky to recover. You had just hoped that he would want you. He’s taken your help, but you wanted him to want you.

When he comes back from his midafternoon run, he pauses right before the porch. He can tell something is bothering you but hasn’t a clue what to do.

“Do you know what soulmates are?” You wonder. Bucky stares at you for a moment before slowly nodding his head. You get a bit frustrated. “Do you trust me?” He hesitates again but ultimately nods. “Do you not want me then?” You whisper. It’s subtle, but Bucky tenses. You read his posture wrong. “Alright,” You whisper, standing up.

“Wait,” He says, jumping up onto the porch. His hand grabs your wrist. You stop, look at his hand, and then up into his eyes. “You’re beautiful. You’re strong. You’re everything I could ever want,”

“Then why haven’t you accepted me?” You whisper. He sighs slowly. As if giving into a desire, he caresses your cheek with his hand.

“For decades, all I’ve known is fighting. I went from one to another. Before that, I never thought I’d see in color. Then you come out of nowhere and turn my world upside-down. As perfect as you are, that doesn’t change who I am. I’m haunted every day, and I know Hydra is hunting me. Just being here will endanger you, but I can’t find it in myself to leave. I don’t want to get to the point of no return. I don’t want you to get attached to me because one day I’ll have to leave, and I don’t know if I’ll come back,”

“That just won’t do for me,” You shake your head. “You see, Buck, I’m in this for life whether you accept me or not. If you leave, I’m just going to follow. Whether you go to Steve or Hydra or even Hell, I will follow you,” You tell him. “You distancing yourself is hurting us more than the potential of you leaving. I’m not going to let you go, Buck... You’ll realize that eventually.”

Things continued the same for a while as Bucky digested your words. Eventually, however, there was a change. It was a slow change, but it was progress nonetheless.

Bucky began to open up to you more. There were subtle touches and lingering gazes. He sat closer and spent more time with you. As the weeks passed, everything began to amplify. The subtle touches turned into handholding that eventually turned into cuddle sessions. The words exchanged turned into flirtatious whispers.

The day you could see everything in color was the day you pulled him into a kiss. You both were the happiest you’ve ever been. The kiss made you both feel as if you had been touch-starved. Neither of you could get enough of each other.

The kiss had started in the kitchen. You were making breakfast when everything turned from black and white to various vibrant colors. You whipped around to him. He had this lopsided grin on his face as he stared at you.

You marched up to him and kissed him without a second thought. He had been leaning on the wall the separated the kitchen from the living room, but he switched positions so that you were pressed between that wall and him.

“I love you,” Bucky whispers. You begin to smile even wider, your heart hammering in your chest. “You’re-”

“I love you too,” You whisper back to him before kissing him once more. Bucky smiles into the kiss and leans into you even more.

You breathe in deeply when he picks you up. He doesn’t hesitate to take you back to your room. The room he’s spent the last few nights cuddling you in. He lays you down on the bed with a tenderness that has your heart fluttering.

“I love you,” He whispers again. He would tell you that all night. He didn’t want to stop kissing you, stop touching, nor stop telling you how much you meant to him. You changed his world, and you became his world.

[mayans-sauce]

Golden Girl (1/2)

Found on Google

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: cursing, mention of death(?), mention of smut (barely), alcohol use, angsty, sad and insecure lil boy, kind of cheesy in the end but oh well it’s cute I think.

Request from anon I have a request for Angel! The reader is very successful in her personal life, and could be considered a "golden girl". She and Angel start dating, but when she asks to meet his family and friends, Angel pushes it off because he doesn't want to introduce her to EZ. He's afraid they'll have so much in common that she'll realize she picked the wrong Reyes brother. One day the reader takes matters into her own hands and goes to the scrap yard to meet them, and Angel comes back to find them all talking to her, and EZ is sitting next to her. The reader sees Angel and smiles at him, but he walks back out feeling insecure and over thinking. She goes after him, asks him what's wrong and he confesses his insecurities, she comforts and reassures him, and they live happily ever after! THE END!

A/N: I’m so sorry this request comes so late! I recently got inspired to write this. I was supposed to keep this short but I just kept on writing and adding on and it turned into a longer thing. It’s weird idk but I hope you enjoy<3

Part. 2

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“Angel! Come on, we’ll be late, let's go,” you walked into your shared bedroom to go and get him. You were supposed to be at your father’s party 10 minutes ago. This was the first time you would bring Angel along, and he was nervous as fuck. This wasn’t some regular party like the ones he was used to; it was a business party. A lot of your dad’s investors would be present, discussing business and looking at the new invention his company, Techno Trends, had developed, a green source of energy that was powerful enough to light up a whole city for a year. It was a big deal, and Angel had doubts that he would fit in with all the big shot guys.

He was smoothing over his black suit, his hands trembling as he tried to adjust every piece to look presentable. “Babe,” you wrapped your arms around his torso, giving him some comfort, “please don’t be nervous. It is going to be fine. My dad loves you, and he’s so excited for you to come to one of the parties finally.” He wrapped his hands around yours, his shoulders relaxing at your comforting words and touch, “It’s not your dad I’m worried about.”

He had repeatedly declined your offer to go with you when you asked him. The fear of feeling small and stupid amongst these guys turned him off on the idea of going, but he had agreed in the end. Sooner or later, he would have to go. You turned him around, so he was looking at you.

“I will be with you the entire time. I promise I won’t leave your side. You know I’m not the biggest fan of these parties myself.” Your dad was a very important man, and it was vital for him to have you by his side. You were, in a way, the senior CEO, and your input and decisions were important to him. As much as you were considered the “Golden Girl,” you were still mischievous and full of life, and outside of business, you didn’t bother to mingle with the rich and powerful. You had your own life that you lived, but for business sake, you needed to be presentable and put on your pretty smile.

He let out a deep breath and nodded his head, giving you his smile that made you smile even more prominent. “Let’s go, Reyes.”

You held his hand the entire time as you walked up the steps to the company building. After going through the security check, you searched the crowd for your dad but didn’t find him anywhere. He was the highlight of the party; how could he not be anywhere. That’s when you felt a tap on your shoulder; as you turned around, you were met with him. “Dad,” you hugged him. “Hi, sweetheart.” Angel reached out his hand for him to shake, “Sir.” “Angel, please, I’ve told you before, call me Y/F/N, now bring it in.” Angel smiled, feeling as accepted as the first time he met your father. They hugged each other, and Angel felt more relaxed. Angel felt even more comfortable with your dad around; they did kind of have the same life.

Your dad wasn’t always the CEO of one of the biggest tech companies in the world. He was more like Angel in his younger years, an outlaw, someone who did whatever they wanted and didn’t care about the consequences. He was part of a club, doing the same illegal things Angel and his crew were doing. But after the death of your mother when you were a baby, which was caused by his involvement in the club, he knew he needed to leave. He didn’t want his only daughter to grow up without a father, so he left. Leaving his old life behind and starting a new one. It wasn’t easy, being an ex-outlaw, but your dad was smart, brilliant, and his mind was the one of a genius. So after years of struggle and sacrifice, he had finally found success in the company he founded from the ground up.

Your dad loved Angel, and he never judged him. He knew the life and how much of a struggle it could be. But he thought he was a good man and he was happy you had found him.

The night had gone as expected. You had to have boring conversations with the investors, putting on your enhanced smile and charm to get them to give you their money. Angel tried his best to keep up, smiling and nodding in agreement at all the boring things these rich men said, with their expensive suits and snobby smiles.

He and you were relieved when the food and alcohol came, digging in the small dishes that were served. “This tastes like shit,” he whispered in your ear, carefully chewing the food not to be impolite, but all he wanted was to spit it out. “I know, it always does. Let go grab burgers when the party’s over, deal?” “Deal.”

Toward the end of the night, as people were mingling with everyone, you and Angel found yourself a seat in the corner, away from the big talks, and just relieved in a moment with only the two of you. His arms were around your shoulder as you people watched. “Angel, I’ve wanted to ask you something.” “Hmm?” was all he uttered, not averting his eyes from the crowd. “So now that you’ve seen all of this, more of my personal life, when can I properly meet EZ and the rest of the gang? I feel like you don’t want me to meet them. Is something going on?”

He felt a lump forming in his throat. For a long time, he’s been afraid that you would find out that he didn’t want you to meet EZ. Afraid that EZ fit more for this lifestyle of yours and that you would realize that you picked the wrong brother to be with. This environment was more for EZ. He was smart and could contribute heavily to the company. “I-I,” he cleared his throat, “EZ has just been busy lately, you know, prospecting and shit.”

You just left the topic at that, knowing that he wouldn’t budge. Something was going on. There was a reason that he didn’t want you to meet EZ, and he was insecure to tell you why. So you would take matters into your own hands and go over to the clubhouse to properly introduce yourself tomorrow.

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

Since Angel didn’t want to introduce you to his family, you would do so yourself. When Angel was out and about doing some stuff on his own, you took the liberty to go over to the scrapyard to meet everyone.

Once you arrived, you felt a little nervous. Yes, all the guys knew who you were, but they had never really met you properly; you’ve only just seen them in passing and such, exchanging a few words here and there.

You pulled yourself together and opened the door to the clubhouse. Everyone turned to look who it was. They were expecting Angel to walk in, but instead, they found his girlfriend standing there, not sure what to do. “Y/N!” They all said in unison. That made you let out a deep breath. Good, they were excited that you were here.

They walked over to you, and each of them hugged you, expressing how happy they were that they could finally meet you. They offered you a beer and a seat at one of the tables. The talking didn’t stop from the minute you arrived. They asked you questions about yourself, your job, your family, and some gossip about Angel that they may not know.

As time went on, people started to arrive at the clubhouse for a party they were holding. As most of the guys scattered around the room, some in search of alcohol, girls, or just a game of pool, you found yourself having a conversation with EZ about the upcoming tech from Techno Trends.

The guy was smart and knew what he was talking about. It kind of made you mad at Angel for not introducing you sooner to his brother. EZ had some pretty good ideas that would be of big help to the company.

EZ had just told you a funny joke as Angel entered the room. His eyes locked on you and him having a good time. At first, he was confused; how in the hell did you get here? Was that really you, or did he see things? No, it was you. He couldn’t mistake you for anyone else.

You were laughing hard, placing your hand on EZ’s shoulder for support since the alcohol had made you a little wobbly. Angel could feel himself building up with rage. This was precisely what he didn’t want to happen, and it was now unfolding in front of his eyes. As you had calmed down from the laughing fit, you found his gaze, and you smiled big, waving at him to come over, but your face turned sad when you saw him, anger on his face but still a little trace of wetness in his eyes. He stormed out of the doors, and you were fast on your heels to catch up to him.

“Angel!” He sat down on one of the picnic tables a little further away from the building. “Angel,” you walked over, standing in front of him. He didn’t meet your gaze; his eyes focused on a bottle cap on the ground.

“What is going on, Angel? What was that inside?” You crossed your arms, waiting for an answer. “The shit I didn’t want to happen!” His voice was poisonous as he spoke. “You and EZ. The perfect match, the perfect couple. The golden girl and golden boy together as they were meant to fucking be! King and Queen of the fucking company.” “What the fuck are you talking about?” “You will leave me. You will realize that EZ is better for you and your life instead of the fuck up and worthless piece of shit that is me, and… fuck, you will leave because why would you be with someone like me…”

You let him have his little rant; he needed to let it out one way or another, and taking this to the ring wasn’t an option. As much as it hurts you to hear all these things, you let him vent, and after this, you would love, comfort, and cherish him for the rest of your life together, as he deserves.

“... I’m dumb, worthless..” he continued to say untrue things about himself, and you knew you needed to stop him. You felt tears in your eyes the more he went on saying hurtful things about him. “Angel… ANGEL!” You grabbed his face with both of your hands to get him to look at you and shut him up in the process.

“Stop.. just stop... I love you, only you! How can you not see that?” “I-I just..” “No, Angel! Nothing just.” “Please listen to me when I say these things and know they are coming straight from my heart, baby.”

“I love that when I wake up in the morning, and your beautiful and breathtaking face is the first thing I see in the morning. It starts my day with a kick, and I know that the rest of the day will be good.”

“I love when I come home from work, and I walk into the kitchen, and there you are, almost burning the house down trying to be a gentleman and cook me dinner,” that made you both chuckle, and that alone made your heart jump a thousand times, “and we just end up ordering takeout but I still appreciate you for trying.”

“I love when I’m having a bad day, and you are there to cheer me up. Telling me jokes, being your goofy self, or buying me chocolate that we eat way too much of an almost vomit.”

“The sex. God the sex. Best I’ve ever had, I love it. You really know how to work those hips, babe, and make me weak in my core.” He had his grin on his face, and you knew that he would bring this up multiple times and give it to you good and hard just how you liked it.

“I love when we go to sleep, and you keep me safe and warm from the scary outside world, telling me weird and questionable stories about you and Coco. Just you and me in our own little comfort and safety bubble.”

“EZ means nothing to me besides being a friend and a brother I never had. Yes, he’s bright and smart and could elevate the game at the company if he wanted to, but Angel, I love you, just you.”

“If I were to tell you all that I love about you, we would spend a year on this bench. I love you, Angel Ignacio Reyes, only you, until the day I fucking die.”

At this point, you were both crying happy tears. You had told Angel everything, the truth, and nothing but the truth, and you could feel it in his aura that he understood this.

“Querida I,” you spoke before he had the chance to go further, “Angel, we have all the time in the world to express each other’s feelings more, but for now, please just hug me, you big idiot.”

He stood up and wrapped his arms around you, lifting you up to wrap your legs around him. You held each other for a good while, unspoken words expressed between you both as you cling to one another. He was grateful, you could feel it, and he loved you more than anything in the universe.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, Angel.”

[non-un-topo]

College, Car Seats, and Creamy Pasta (ficlet)

(This title, idk.) So I’ve been having feelings lately about the old guard with babies in modern aus, so here’s an experimental, kind of self-indulgent ficlet filled with extreme amounts of softness and bébé feels <3

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There’s an infamous story all the way back from college that Joe loves to share which involves Andy drunkenly rolling her ankle on a beach and Joe having to carry her home--though, she could have walked, but Joe demanded to carry her--and fashioning an ice pack out of the only things he could find in his and Nicky’s tiny, decrepit apartment: A condom, and some ice from a small McDonald’s sprite (their freezer was broken when they moved in).

He lives to tell that story every chance he gets. Especially now, as he reaches into Andy and Quỳnh’s (much bigger and much colder) freezer nearly fifteen years later to retrieve a not-homemade ice pack and wrap it in a clean dishtowel for Andy’s poor crotch.

She’s lounging on the couch, even though she’s proven that she can walk, but Joe doesn’t mind, as she reaches back for the ice pack and shoots him a sly smile that says, Yeah, I know exactly which story you’re thinking about. He bats his eyelashes innocently back.

It’s a balmy Friday evening and Quỳnh’s still at work, though likely on her way home, so Joe has taken the liberty of cooking dinner. Andy begged to order a pizza, but Joe was not having it. And he thought himself to be the lax one of the bunch. If Nicky were in the kitchen at the time, it would have been anarchy.

“Thanks, Joe,” Andy says, as she settles into a more comfortable position on the couch with her ice pack, sighing. He adjusts the pillows at her back, which causes her to snort and slap his hand away.

“I’m not dying.”

Joe sniffs. “Yeah, coulda fooled me. How much did that baby weigh again?”

Andy laughs out a quiet, fuck off. “Nine pounds, eight ounces,” she says, quick as a whip.

“God…”

The baby, the reason for Joe and Nicky’s visit to Andy and Quỳnh’s apartment, is fairly chunky, sure, but he looks awfully tiny and pink, especially when he’s wearing his little hat. The hat with little lamb ears that Nicky painstakingly knit for him months ago, when he was barely more than a bump, that rarely leaves his soft little head. Nicky hadn’t even known how to knit at the time.

The baby’s name is Lykon, after a childhood friend of Andy and Quỳnh. Lykon was born at 4:26 AM on Monday. It’s Friday evening. Joe and Nicky have not left the apartment since Andy and Quỳnh brought him home.

And neither Andy nor Quỳnh have physically kicked them out, so Joe is staying right here.

Nicky had disappeared a few minutes ago to go change the baby while Andy napped, but he reappears then, slinking into the living room with Lykon held against his shoulder--he’s so little in Nicky’s hands, they almost swallow him--and Joe smiles at his husband in greeting before doing a double-take.

“Babe,” Joe says, and Andy cranes her neck to try and see Nicky over the back of the couch. “What are you doing?”

Nicky continues his journey across the living room floor--lunges, he’s doing lunges. Deep ones that make Joe’s eyebrows jump up in appreciation.

Nicky releases a finger from his gentle grip on the baby’s head and presses it to his lips. “Shush.”

“You trying to get your ass workout in while carrying my son? Really?” Andy asks.

Nicky’s response is whispered so softly, Joe can hardly hear him. “This is the only way I can get him to sleep.”

“Put him in the car seat,” Andy says, like it’s the most simple solution in the world.

“He likes it,” Nicky argues, still whispering.

Andy only shrugs. “Okay, but if he spits up on you…”

And right on cue, Joe hears a tiny gurgle, and there’s baby puke sliding down Nicky’s back.

Andy doesn’t say, told you so, but she doesn’t need to. Her smug grin is enough. With a poorly hidden pout, Nicky reluctantly hands the baby, who is now crying quiet little wobbly squeals, to Andy.

“You know,” Andy says, “you guys don’t have to stay. You have other commitments, I know.”

It’s the first time since Lykon’s birth that she’s said something like that, and Joe is only moderately surprised to feel a sudden onslaught of tears in his eyes.

“Or not,” she says, quickly. “We really appreciate your help, boys, it’s just… We don’t want to keep you.”

“Andy, shut up.”

She laughs, loud and open-mouthed. “Okay, Joe, okay. I love you guys.”

“We love you too,” Nicky says. Then he leans over the couch to peer into Lykon’s squishy little face. “And we especially love you.”

His voice changes when he talks to the baby. While Joe can’t control the way his voice raises several octaves and the way he coos gibberish, Nicky’s voice softens and hushes to something so comfortable, barely audible. It’s the way he would talk to a fussy toddler, Joe thinks, given the opportunity. He would level his eyes with them and speak to them like a person equal to him, providing the safest and most non-judgemental space for them.

Joe thinks. He hasn’t had many opportunities to see his husband speak with toddlers.

“I would be worried about you guys kidnapping him,” Andy says, “but I think it only counts as kidnapping if you leave the apartment.”

Joe snorts, and then he hears the water boiling over on the stove, so he dashes.

When Joe met Andy and Quỳnh, he had been a wide-eyed twenty-year-old, freshly out of the closet and already hopelessly in love. Well, that hasn’t changed, which always delights him to realize, after all these years. It was the love of his young life--Nicky, of course--who introduced him. Andy and Nicky were family friends, more like siblings, really, and of course Andy and Quỳnh had been together since the dawn of time. It took Joe no time at all to find a family in the four of them, inseparable as they all were.

Andy and Quỳnh had actually surprised him when they started talking about kids. That unexpected and world-changing conversation had been the beginning of a long and at times heartbreaking four years, before they finally got their donor, then suffered through a little over a year of IVF. They had almost given up, Joe remembers, between the frustration and the arguments and doctors telling Andy her eggs were too old. But, there he was, at the end of the journey, coming into the world flipping off everyone who said they couldn’t do it: Baby Lykon, the little warrior.

Joe remembers all of it vividly. The phonecall when they told him and Nicky they were pregnant, the panic to help them find a bigger apartment, the indulgent shopping trips, though Andy tried to keep a cap on those, and the weight and warmth of the baby in Joe’s arms the very first time he held him, barely thirty minutes after he’d been born.

Joe had sobbed, of course (something Andy and Quỳnh had anticipated so strongly they bet money on how long he cried for), and he looked into the baby’s big brown eyes and promised him the world.

They had talked about kids. Of course, they had. He and Nicky. But life was busy, and in the last five years between Joe finishing his dissertation and Nicky’s mother getting sick, the subject of kids just hadn’t come up. Besides, Joe thinks now, he’s only thirty-three.

Quỳnh comes home as he’s dishing up dinner for everyone--a creamy, cheesy pasta, because it’s the best comfort food--and her eyes brim with tears when she gets to hold Lykon again. She hasn’t been able to get a lot of time off work, even after becoming a new parent, which Joe thinks is frankly outrageous, but the work she does as a crisis counsellor is of course monumentally important.

They huddle around the couch to eat dinner, but Nicky pulls up one of the rickety chairs from the kitchen table and sits next to the baby, who is snoozing in his car seat on top of the coffee table. Joe doesn’t know how he does it, but Nicky manages to eat his dinner, drink enough water, and hold a conversation while keeping Lykon’s car seat rocking gently so he doesn’t wake up and scream.

Joe watches him as he chews his pasta mindfully and leans close to peer into the car seat. Beautiful. He’s always so beautiful, especially now. The way he looks at Lykon--their nephew, Joe realizes, elated--makes Joe’s head spin off his shoulders. He feels like he’s twenty.

“Crazy how tiny he is,” says Quỳnh, her voice soft and reverent. She already sounds so much like a parent. Joe’s eyes are still on his husband, so he sees how brightly Nicky smiles at that.

Andy makes an indignant noise. “Shut the fuck up.”

Quỳnh laughs, though she tries with obvious effort to keep quiet. She pulls Andy closer, her arm draped over her shoulder, and presses three kisses to her cheek. Then Quỳnh catches Joe’s eye and winks.

Andy shovels another forkful of pasta into her mouth and moans as she chews. With a full mouth, she says, “Joe, this is perfect. Please, boys, never leave.”

Joe shrugs bashfully, pretending to be shy. “It’s Nicky’s recipe.”

“What did you use,” Quỳnh asks.

Joe hums. He juts his chin to the kitchenette. “Your parmesan, mostly, and that fancy milk.”

“What fancy milk,” Andy asks, absolutely stuffing her face.

“Y’know.” Joe waves a hand. Chews, swallows. “The milk in the fancy bag, from the fridge.”

Andy and Quỳnh both stop eating, their eyes bugging out. Quỳnh slaps a hand over her mouth, poorly hiding a laugh and clearly choking a little, and Andy looks… Oh, Andy looks furious. Her face is red.

“J-” She forcefully lowers her voice, shooting a fearful glance at the baby. “Joe,” she whispers through her teeth. “Did you use my fucking breast milk?”

“Dio.” Nicky sticks his fork back into his dish.

“Oh,” Joe says, like an idiot. “Um.”

Andy’s cheeks puff out and somehow her face turns an even darker shade of red.

“I pumped…” she whispers, low and lethal, slow. “...For so… long…”

“There’s more in the fridge, babe,” Quỳnh says, and Joe fears for her life for a hot second. Then she brings her hand out to hover over Andy’s chest. “And it’s not like the tap is running dry, or whatever.”

“So I’m a milk bag.”

“A badass, sexy milk bag who--oh, who is murdering me with her eyes right now.” Quỳnh turns on Joe, then, scooping another forkful of breast-milk-pasta into her mouth and jabbing the fork in his direction. “You’re gonna be up all night paying my wife back for this, genius. See how skilfully you can wipe meconium from his bum.”

Joe only nods in shame. Fair enough.

Lykon signals that he’s awake, then, with a series of soft little snorty grunts that devolve very quickly into shrieking, wobbly sobs. Nicky launches into action with a speed that rivals the pitcrews at NASCAR. He lifts him from the car seat with such gentleness and oh, Joe’s heart breaks to see the baby’s little lips trembling as he cries, the way his little feet kick out against Nicky’s chest as he holds him over his forearms. Nicky is about to pass him to his moms when Quỳnh smiles softly up at him and says, “Looks like you’ve got him.”

He throws her a glance as if to ask, are you sure, and Quỳnh and Andy both nod. Joe’s sure they’re grateful to have the small amount of rest time and, looking at them now, curled together on the couch in their soft clothes, exchanging light kisses, he knows he and Nicky haven’t come close to overstaying their welcome.

“Look at you, Nico,” coos Andy as Nicky carefully holds the baby against his shoulder to peek at his diaper through the waistband his tiny pants. “You’re making us look bad.”

Nicky only chuckles lightly and shakes his head. The diaper must be clean, because he leaves it be and brings a hand up to cup the back of the baby’s wispy-haired head more steadily, and begins to hum, almost a whisper, and Joe’s heart flutters.

“Do you think he’s hungry?” Nicky asks Andy when the baby continues to fuss.

Turns out he is hungry, because he quiets almost immediately when Andy brings him to her chest. It’s not silent in the apartment--Joe can hear some sirens through the window on the streets far below, can hear the air conditioner groan to life, can hear Quỳnh and Nicky’s forks clink against their plates as they continue to eat the questionable breast-milk-pasta (good lord). And, Joe can hear the soft little grunts and snorts that the baby makes as he feeds.

Joe watches his oldest friends--they’re parents now, he can hardly believe it--as they huddle close on the couch and watch their son. Quỳnh wraps her arms under Andy’s so they’re both holding him, and his little chubby fist twitches and flings out every once in a while against Andy’s rolled-up shirt. His feet look impossibly small. Joe remembers the sounds he made when he and Nicky went shopping for all manner of baby supplies to help shave some stuff off Andy and Quỳnh’s list. He’d nearly sobbed when Nicky came up to the cart holding a pair of incredibly tiny socks (and then he had teared up and nearly passed out when Nicky popped the socks over his thumbs. A lot of people stared).

Joe would be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t been thinking of revisiting that store with Nicky every day since.

Now, he looks at his husband to find him already watching him, his heart in his eyes. Nicky slowly moves his gaze to their friends, to the baby, and Joe follows it. When their eyes meet again, Nicky’s are a little damp with tears, but he’s smiling, and there’s something inquisitive and hopeful in his eyes. Joe matches him and slowly, they both nod.

Yes.

[whoacanada]

Zimbits - Bartender!Jack + NHL!Bitty AU

Prompt: Retired NHL player Jack Zimmermann takes ownership of a sports bar in Pittsburgh and accidentally falls for the Penguins’ (closeted) new left winger.

A/N - just the start, I’d like to get around to more of this; the basic idea was an It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia AU, but I couldn’t manage to make everyone that terrible so Jack owns and operates a gay sports bar and starts crushing on one of his patrons.

“Can’t believe you’ve owned this place since ’89.” Jack coughs, waving the dust away from his face. “Did you ever come back after we moved home?”

It’d be disingenuous to say Jack had been expecting anything other than cigars and whiskey when his father had invited him on a trip down to Pittsburgh to see Mario and glad-hand some Penguins sponsors. In fact, he’d kind of been looking forward to sulking and getting shit-faced, not limping around a condemned building dodging roaches and rats.

“It was an investment opportunity. That was the trend back then, famous athletes buying up restaurants and clubs — I had big plans for this building. Then your mother got pregnant and I realized I didn’t really give two shits about running a nightclub.”

“Realized you were pretty lazy, huh?”

As Bob laughs, Jack picks at the peeling, lacquered bartop, trying not to imagine how many decades of grime he’s just collecting under his nail, the situation made even more disgusting in such close proximity to the glittering gold championship ring his father had insisted he wear to their lunch meeting with the Penguins front-office suits. Jack flicks the gunk away as Bob levels him with a weighty look, hands braced in the air as if outlining a play and not offering a tour of a cobweb-filled dive.

“Here’s my thought,” Bob says. “The bar. It’s yours.”

Jack leans against the counter, taking some weight off his braced leg, and asks, “What’s mine?”

“This place,” Bob gestures around the room. “The whole building. It’s just sitting here, empty, the bar, the liquor license, there’s apartments and office space upstairs, we’d just need to do some renovations and —“

Jack can’t help himself. He barks a laugh and says, “I’m not moving to Pittsburgh.”

“How many times have you and I talked about opening a sports bar? I’d wanted to get this place fixed up so it’d be ready when you retired, but since the final — you could make it a gay bar, even, if you wanted!” Bob says quickly, offering another awkward olive branch. “A gay sports bar. I wouldn’t care.”

“A gay sports bar. In Pittsburgh,” Jack echoes, reaching for a chirp to defend himself, but he closes him mouth as he realizes a sports bar run by a Zimmermann might not be a terrible investment idea. “The building needs a ton of work,” Jack settles. “I just saw a rat.”

“That was a mouse,” Bob dismisses, not bothering to look at the rat still clearly in view. “Nothing that can’t be fixed. Got a dollar?”

Jack pats his pockets, finds a spare looney and hands it over. Bob doesn’t hesitate, pulling an envelope out of his back pocket to exchange for the coin.

“Congratulations. You are now the proud owner of,” Bob looks around helplessly. “I actually don’t know what they call this place now. A Bar?”

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out.” Jack swallows against the tightness in his throat, holding the deed carefully in his hands. “Thanks, Dad.”

Bob brings Jack in for a loose hug and they both ignore the soft squeaking coming from the backroom.

Five Years Later

There’s a man examining the announcement board in the vestibule, and Jack knows that posture: the forward hip cant, thick thighs, a small but definite bubble butt — guy’s a hockey player, and he has been for some time.

“Hey. Hi.”

Blondie spins around at Jack’s address. Not quite startled, but something close enough that Jack feels a twinge of guilt. “You interested in playing in our beer league? You look like you might know your way around a rink.”

The man quickly looks at his chest, as if expecting to find something displayed, but relaxes immediately. Jack fights a grin, he was once old hat at wandering into public spaces decked out in identifiable team merch.

“Bitty.” The man squares up to offer his hand; his accent is warm and distinctly southern, not at all what Jack was expecting. “You can call me Bitty.”

“Oh, with a nickname like that, you have to play, now, no excuses,” Jack gives Bitty’s arm a firm shake, surprised at how complementary his grip is; not just an overcompensating bro who’s walked into the wrong club.

“If only I had the time,” Bitty placates wryly. “Is this place new?”

“Been here a few years, but not long. How about you? Are you ‘new’? In town, I mean.”

“Moved for work,” Bitty’s smile is timid, eyes darting around the room looking for other patrons, up at the memorabilia and the various pennants. “First year. Slowly learning the area.”

Jack doesn’t miss the way Bitty’s eyes linger on the Pride flag draped from the second floor railing, but Bitty doesn’t mention it, and Jack isn’t in the business of prying.

“Let me be the first to welcome you to The Bar.”

“I saw that outside, do you not have a name?”

“We weren’t creative. The owner didn’t realize he was filling in the wrong line on the business license so we are literally called ‘The Bar’.”

“That’s actually pretty solid,” Bitty laughs, the sound lifting Jack’s mood easily. “I’ll have to make sure I come back and patron your establishment at a reasonable hour.”

“What you aren’t interested at getting sloshed before noon?”

Bitty laughs, and Jack is enough of an adult to recognize he’s got a tiny bit of a crush.

______

True to form, Bitty slowly becomes a feature of Jack’s early afternoons. The first few weeks, he does little more than quietly purchase a single domestic beer before tucking himself away in a corner booth, hunched over his phone, ball cap pulled low for discretion. Jack gives him space, and aside from a few curious regulars, Bitty is little more than another closeted young man seeking quiet sanctuary.

That is, until, hockey kicks up and Mario hooks Jack up with season tickets beside the bench. It’d taken time for Jack to get comfortable with being in an arena again, especially without the ability to step onto the ice himself, but he’s acclimated and learned to appreciate his new lot in life. He can be happy for his success and mourn the end of his career with equal measure.

(Doesn’t hurt he still gets asked for autographs on the regular.)

Bittle, the new forward traded out of Columbus, spins to whip the puck between Lundqvist’s thighs and the score is 3-2 with a minute left in the third. Jack stands to cheer with the crowd as Bittle’s pulled into a celly with his line mates, and the new angle gives Jack a good look at the man’s sunny face, complete with a familiar, bright smile and missing canine. Jack’s heart leaps into his throat when he realizes Bittle is ‘Bitty’, and Jack can’t help but cheer louder.

________

After the game, Jack does his homework. Pulls up stats pages and articles on Eric Bittle. Looking to link the quiet hottie from his bar with the energetic man he saw tonight on the ice. If Jack wasn’t in love before, he absolutely is after watching highlights from Bittle’s time in Columbus.

The next time Jack finds Bitty slipping into the bar, probably between practice and a good nap, Jack makes his move; filling a pint glass, wedging an orange slice on the rim, and adjusting his shirt before striding to the corner booth as easily as one can with a titanium femur.

“On the house,” Jack says, setting down the glass gently. “Choice goal, Tuesday. Great bounce.”

Bitty’s grateful smile falters, turning into something guarded.

“What goal?” Bitty asks, voice steady, and Jack’s immediately alerted to his misstep. Jack casts a careful eye around the room and doesn’t find anyone watching, kicking himself for not thinking this through. He’s used to playing this game with guys who aren’t quite comfortable, who might be visiting with the wrong people, but he hasn’t had to do the closeted-pro-athlete dance in a while.

“You know, I must have been mistaken.”

“Happens all the time. Very sweet of you, though.” Bitty apologizes and pushes away the beer, but Jack waves him off. It’s the least Jack can do for calling the guy out.

“I should have known,” Jack tries to recover. “You’ve still got all your chiclets. But, between you and me, Bittle’s a spitfire, eh? Crazy soft hands. I’d like to meet him someday.”

Jack whistles low, rapping his knuckles on the table before turning back to the bar, moving slowly enough he catches the way Bitty’s cheeks flare pink at the compliment.

About thirty minutes later, Jack, half focused on counting down the till, nearly misses Bitty’s exit. He looks up to offer a parting wave, and Bitty returns the gesture, flashing a shy, incomplete smile; one canine missing on the left side.

________

“Anything new to report? Sales look good, think you might be able to take some time off and visit your poor parents?”

Jack slides open a window to let some air into his bedroom, not for the first time wishing he’d taken the chance to tear out a wall and convert a corner of the top floor into a balcony. There’s still time — his father never seems to wary of giving Jack renovation loans — but Jack loves his condo and hates the idea of relocating again, even temporarily.

“New distillery opened, cut a deal on some local gin. We’re working on drink specials, if you have any ideas for names I’m open,” Jack eases onto the windowsill and looks down at the line of people waiting to get into the bar. “And I met someone. Think he might be a hockey player.”

“No shit? Beer-league?”

“NHL.” Jack corrects, an edge of caution in his tone he knows his father won’t misinterpret. “Started coming around a few months ago, gave me a fake name. Went to a game last week, scored right in front of me.”

“Well, you going to tell me who or am I going to have to guess?”

“He’s keeping to himself,” Jack holds the curtain steady to catch sight of a particularly flashy person in a glittering teal gown, texting Holster to snag a photo for the bar’s Instagram. “Don’t go hunting.”

“Well, if he needs any help you let me know.”

“What could you do?”

“I don’t know. Talk to . . . someone. I guess.”

“I’ll keep that under advisement.” Jack placates, smiling at the saucy photo Ransom texts back immediately of Holster lifting their favorite Drag Race runner-up above his head like something out of Dirty Dancing.

“So.”

“Mmm?”

“Does this mean you’ve got a little boyfriend, again?”

Jack leans out over the railing and tries to see if the universe has blessed him with a sighting of his favorite new Left Winger. Sadly, it’s Saturday evening and the Penguins are in Dallas, so no Eric tonight. 

“Working on it.” Jack offers, rapping his knuckles lightly against the window sill and trying not to think about the way Bittle��s face lights up when he sees that Jack is working. “Think I might really have a shot at something.”

“Well, you know what Wayne always says.”

“I do,” Jack breathes, pressing his forehead against the cool glass, taking in his one-of-a-kind view of the city. “I’ll let you know how it goes. Once he gets back.”

“ — You know, I’ve got the game on right now. I bet you $1000 I can tell who you’ve got the hots for. You have a specific type — ”

“Papa.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“Thank you.”

“But it’s the kid we just got from the Blue Jackets, isn’t it. Bittle? You always like the fast ones — ”

“Goodnight, Papa.”