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cloneshipping7567 · 1 year

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Romantic Confessions Part 6

Part 6/30

5. "Are you really so oblivious?"

Pairing: Fox x Cody (as requested by anon)

Rating/WC: T/ 4006

Warnings: this one is a bit different to the other fics I’ve made so far, this one is more like a few drabbles put together. I hope you like it!

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Cody doesn’t look up as Fox sits next to him, he simply scoots over so his friend has more room.

Cody understands where the rumors that Fox is cold and distant comes from, but it always amuses him how very wrong they are.

Sure, he isn’t throwing his arms over other troopers, isn’t the first to laugh or joke. But he’s never cold, never pushes people away.

Fox is quiet. He observes, takes in everything around him. He’d always rather listen to his brothers joke and talk than join in himself.

That isn’t because he doesn’t like his brothers, though. That’s just how he shows his affection.

Everyone in the commander class understands; Fox has always been like this. That’s even how Fox and Wolffe got their names in the first place; Fox is the type to curl up and sneakily observe, while Wolffe is always howling with laughter and barking out another story.

Cody knows this. He knows Fox. He knows Fox better than anyone else, if he does say so himself.

So Cody doesn’t look up when Fox sits next to him, nursing what is, more than likely, his third or fourth cup of caf of the morning. He doesn’t greet him or try to get him into a conversation. It isn’t necessary, Fox doesn’t need all of that to feel welcome.

Cody sighs and submits the report, checking the time on his datapad. 0800, Coruscant time. He still has half an hour before he really needs to get started with his day.

“Aren’t you on leave?” Fox asks softly, after taking a slow gulp of caf.

Cody smirks and turns to face Fox, letting his datapad rest in his lap. “The 212th is on leave, yes,” he says.

Fox gives him an unimpressed look, and anyone who isn’t Cody would probably take it as a sign Fox was disinterested or even upset. But Cody knows; Fox is amused by Cody’s work ethic. “Did you at least get to sleep more than usual?”

Cody doesn’t need to answer; he just smiles wider, his scar pulling at the eye.

Fox sighs, handing Cody his precious cup of caf.

Cody gasps, eyes going wide as he takes the mug. “Oh, Fox, I had no idea you felt this way about me,” he teases, scarfing down a few swallows before the addict can change his mind and grab it back.

Fox makes a noise halfway between a hiss and a scoff, but his lips twitch in an aborted smile. “Love of my life,” he snarks back.

Cody’s heart swells, but he looks down at the cup before he gives too much away. “I-“

A sleepy Rex drags himself into the room, grunting a quiet hello as he makes a beeline for the caf machine.

Fox pulls away-when had he gotten so close?- and scoots down the couch. He doesn’t say hello.

“Rough night?” Cody asks in his own greeting, drinking the last of the caf and setting the empty mug down.

“The twins won’t leave me alone,” Rex grumbles, punching the on button a little more forcibly than necessary. “We painted our armor sir, look sir, we can refresh your paint for your sir, we can can help with the flimsiwork, come watch us spar sir-when is it your weekend?”

Cody snickers, and Fox is even looking at Rex, indicating he finds the story just as funny. “Oh no, you got full custody, remember? I get visitation rights.”

Rex grunts again, shifting his weight impatiently as the coffee starts to brew. “Deadbeat dad,” he mumbles under his breath.

Cody chuckles, throwing an arm over the back of the couch and therefore over Fox’s shoulders. Fox indicates he enjoys the closeness by not moving. “Echo and Fives are not that bad. I think they’re great.”

“Yeah, because you only work with them on missions,” Rex snarks. He hits the side of the machine in annoyance. “They’re great on missions. Best couple of shinies I’ve ever- why the hell wasn’t the pot already started?” Rex turns his prideful smile back into a scowl when he notices Cody smirking at him.

Fox’s lips twitch, Cody notices. He might actually smile. “They’re still babies, they’ll grow out of it,” Cody soothes. He sneakily pushes Fox’s coffee mug further out of sight.

Rex shoots him a glare, and Cody’s smile only widens. “I’m never going to sleep again,” he grumbles dramatically.

“I heard it’s best to sleep when the baby sleeps,” Cody suggests, and laughs as a sugar packet hits him in the forehead.

“They never karking sleep,” Rex complains, finally able to pour himself a mug. “They’re too amped up to prove themselves.”

Cody’s smirk fades into a soft smile. “They want you to be proud of them,” Cody says softly. He sneakily shifts his arm so it’s fully over Fox’s shoulder and not the couch. “Take it as a compliment.”

Rex makes a disgusted sound, but his lips are finally twisted up into a smile. “I’m sending them to boarding school, first chance I get.”

Cody’s eyes widen. “ARC training? Really? You think they can handle that?”

Fox has wiggled his way out from under Cody’s arm, stealing his mug back and pouring himself a cup. Cody fights back a sad sigh.

Rex doesn’t respond, a proud grin tugging at his lips as he leaves.

Fox turns to Cody, mug in hand and hips leaning against the counter. “When did you and Rex get divorced?” He asks drily; but Cody hears the humor behind it.

Cody rolls his eyes. “Rishi. We adopted the twins, had a massive argument about how to raise them, and the rest was history.” He stands up himself, stretching his arms above his head and groaning as his aching muscles protest.

Fox stares at him over the lip of the mug for a moment, before clearing his throat to answer. “And by massive argument, you mean-“

“He called dibs,” Cody says, rolling his neck and grinning. “He’s always had more patience for shinies, you know that.”

Fox hums, hiding his face in his caf.

When they were cadets, Cody and Fox were the best fighters. Out of all the CC’s, no one could best either one of them in combat.

Wolffe got close a few times, but the only CC able to beat Cody or Fox, was Fox and Cody.

But they aren’t cadets anymore, and clankers don’t follow sparring rules.

To be fair to Cody, he’s kicked countless droids into broken messes. It’s almost his signature move. (It impresses the hell out of the shinies, okay? So he likes to show off, so what?).

He just wasn’t expecting the droid to move when it did, and he didn’t expect the extended arm to slam into his ribs that hard.

“Honestly, sir,” Stitches grumbles, tightening the bandage around Cody’s ribs far more than is strictly necessary. “How many times do I have to tell you not to kick the kriffing droids?”

Cody winces, shooting his medic a pained grin. “Technically, I didn’t actually kick the droid. It got me first.”

Stitches pats the bandages closed with just a tad too much force, making Cody wince again. “Idiot,” he hisses under his breath, before taking a step back. “Take it easy for the next week, use ice if the pain gets unbearable. Nothing more to do for broken ribs.”

Cody nods once, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. “No pain stims?”

Stitches gives Cody an unimpressed look. “Do you promise not to kick any more droids?”

Cody sighs in defeat, and then winces as his ribs hurt. “Probably better to save them for my shinies anyway,” Cody grumbles as he makes his way out of the medbay.

“Sir,” he’s greeted as soon as he’s stepped out the doors. Cody fights back another sigh; duty never stops. “Glad to see you’re okay.”

Cody nods once; he hates being out of armor. He’s just in his lower blacks, having had to remove the top for Stitches to look at. His hands twitch for his bucket, which is with the rest of his kit in his room. “Of course, Waxer. It would take more than a rogue punch to take me out.”

Waxer grins, his own bucket under one arm. He holds out a datapad. “Not according to the casualty reports, sir. Some idiot marked you down before verifying if you were actually dead.”

Cody groans in annoyance, grabbing the datapad and looking it over. “Dammit,” he mumbles, one hand running through his hair. “Who has seen this?”

“It’s already been sent to the top, sir, Coruscant has seen it by now.” Waxer shoots a guilty look at Cody; he probably feels responsible, but the casualty report wouldn’t have fallen to a lieutenant. It would have probably fallen on Rex’s shoulders to double check, or some other captain working the mission.

Cody groans, punching the bridge of his nose. “That’s great,” he grumbles. “Do you have any clue how hard it is to come back from the dead?”

Waxer chokes on a laugh, clearing his throat as he tries to remain professional. “I imagine it would be quite difficult, sir.”

Cody rolls his eyes, rubbing a hand over his face. “You know what? I’ll be dead for a few hours. Maybe I’ll finally get a break.”

Waxer smirks, taking the datapad from Cody. “I’ll inform the general of your untimely demise,” Waxer says, saluting once.

“Great idea Lieutenant, I knew I promoted you for a reason.”

“While you’re dead,” Waxer says, still looking straight ahead. “Might I delegate some of your responsibilities for you? Maybe the general can handle botched reports, for example…”

Cody’s eyes light up, and he pats a hand on Waxer’s shoulder. “Brilliant idea Waxer. Feel free to inform General Kenobi of any flimsiwork I might not get to while I’m still dead. Maybe he’ll shed a tear over his lost commander.”

Waxer snorts once, before stopping in front of Cody’s quarters. “Of course, sir,” he says, giving a quick salute.

Cody opens his door and locks it behind him, sighing heavily. He makes his way to his desk, grabbing his comm before gently lowering himself on his bunk. The pain is intense, sure, but he’s had worse.

A few messages from the general asking about his location, with a follow up of ‘let me know when you’re out of the medbay.’ Well, considering Cody is dead for the next few hours, he chooses to ignore that.

A couple from Rex. One indicating that he’s back on his own ship. Then, ‘lol congrats on being dead enjoy your nap.’

He sends Rex an ‘I will’ and checks the rest of his comms. Mostly a bunch of updates and requests for his advice or presence. All of which will be ignored until after he’s been revived.

He’s about to put his comm down when a new message pings through. He debates ignoring it anyway, but sighs and checks.

It’s from Fox. Shit. He might have read the report. Cody opens it quickly. ‘You better not actually be dead ’ is all it reads.

Cody smiles fondly. It may have read as cold if anyone else had sent the message; but he knows Fox, and he knows how scared he must be to have sent the comm in the first place.

Cody wastes no time, starting a holocall immediately.

Fox picks up just as quick, his eyes frantically searching Cody’s face. He visibly lets out a sigh of relief, before morphing his face back into an impassive one. “You look like shit.”

Cody snorts, and then winces as his ribs protest. “Oh, darling, you have such a way with words,” he retorts.

Fox grunts, taking in Cody’s face. “What happened? You’re reported as killed in action.”

Cody hums softly. “Nah, just got backhanded by a droid in the ribs. See?” He reaches his arm out, allowing the comm to take in more of Cody’s body, including his bandaged chest. “Stitches said I broke half of ‘em on my left side. A new record.”

“You never have been good at accepting second place,” Fox snarks, and his breathing is starting to slow again. “Puncture any lungs?”

“No,” Cody says, chuckling despite himself. “Room for improvement, I suppose.”

“Don’t,” Fox says, looking away after his sudden outburst. He clears his throat, looking back to Cody. “Don’t ever do that again. Don’t get hurt bad enough to show up on the KIA reports.”

Cody quirks a brow. “You really thought I was dead,” Cody says more than asks.

Fox narrows his eyes, shifting in his seat. “The reports aren’t usually wrong.”

Cody hums in agreement, staring at Fox’s face. Knowing the other clone was this worried, was upset, even, makes Cody’s stomach flutter. He knows Fox cares about him—they all care about each other to some degree or another. But this just feels different for some reason.

“I won’t do it again,” he promises softly. Any other day he might have teased a bit longer; but he just wants to let Fox know he’s taking the vulnerability seriously right now.

Fox nods once, taking a deep, steadying breath. He doesn’t end the call, but he doesn’t say anything else either.

Cody smirks, melting back into his normal joking mood with Fox. “I will be dead for the next few hours at least, though. Waxer is bullying Kenobi into undoing the report, and I’m not sure he even knows how.”

Fox laughs at that, almost breathless. “Do the Jedi ever file their own flimsiwork? Or do they pawn it all off on the clones?”

Cody grins, shifting to be a bit more comfortable on his bed. “Kenobi usually does his own, but Rex almost always does Skywalker’s. Honestly, I think he just doesn’t trust Skywalker to do them right.”

Fox hums, leaning back in his desk chair. “I would believe that, Rex’s general is crazy. Did you know he willingly spends time with the Supreme Chancellor?”

Cody lifts a brow. “You don’t like him?”

“He gives me the creeps!” Fox complains, a sly grin in place. “Maybe it’s just because he’s a politician. All the senators suck.”

Cody laughs softly, hissing in a pained breath. “I’ve met a couple. I like Amidala.”

Fox hums, pretending to think about it. “Actually, yeah, I like her. I saved her once from a Hutt, she was very capable. Could have mistaken her for a Jedi, the way she fought.”

Cody grins, eyes dropping in exhaustion. “I believe that,” he mumbles.

There’s silence on the other end, as Fox just stares at him. Cody’s eyes fight valiantly to stay open, but the battle is lost before long.

He’s almost asleep when he hears Fox whisper, “Sleep well, Cody.” He might have even imagined it.

Cody smiles fondly as he watches his troopers march off the ship in proper formation for exactly long enough to get off the ramp before booking it as fast as they can into the city.

Coruscant is a giant city - a planet-wide city - full of fun to be had and trouble to get into.

The 212th almost never gets to come here, what with shore leave being so rare and Coruscant usually being so far away from where their last battle was.

But Obi Wan was needed in the council, and it just so happened to line up with the scheduled week’s worth of shore leave the 212th earned. So here they are, more than ready to spend a week’s worth of off-duty time in the city.

As it just so happens, Cody also enjoys spending time on this planet whenever they can. And yes, that may have something to do with a certain member of the Coruscant guard.

“That’s all of them,” his general declares, voice just as amused as Cody feels. “How many do you think we’ll have to bail out of the brig?”

Cody smirks under his bucket. “I’ll bet you a week’s worth of flimsiwork it’s at least 20.”

Kenobi scoffs. “Jedi do not gamble,” he says.

“Two weeks that Wooley is one of them.” Wooley is usually a calm, mild-tempered clone, but Cody knows Ghost Company likes to party on leave. He hopes Kenobi doesn’t know this.

“You’re on,” Kenobi says, walking off the ship without another word.

Cody shakes his head with a laugh, pulling up his comm. He pings Fox first, letting him know he’s planet side and free for a week. When he gets the coordinates to Fox’s apartment in the upper levels in response, he opens a comm to his entire battalion.

You have a week here to get arrested, don’t pull anything tonight or me and the general are leaving you there until the morning. Have fun, men.

With that done, he stretches himself out and starts the walk to Fox’s apartment. He could catch a speeder, but it’s been ages since he’s been allowed to walk at his own pace instead of march. And he’s been cooped up in that ship for the past two days as they made their way through hyperspace.

Cody loves Coruscant. Growing up on a planet where almost everyone looked exactly the same was tiresome, boring. It almost feels like no two people on Coruscant look the same, even the ones of the same species. They all look so unique.

Cody sighs as he checks his coordinates. He’s been walking for two hours, and he isn’t even halfway there. He grumbles to himself, pulling out his comm. Never mind, he just wants to be there, preferably before Fox gets off shift and worries.

Cody thanks the driver and gets out, making his way to the correct number. He punches in the codes for the door, and makes himself at home.

He sighs sadly at the state of the apartment. It’s dingy, and absolutely tiny, and the air tastes stale in here.

He puts his bucket on the tiny coffee table, and starts piling his armor on the floor in the corner. Down to just his blacks, Cody sits on the very uncomfortable couch and stretches out. He checks the time and sighs. He still has about an hour until Fox is supposed to get off shift.

Want me to get us some food? Your kitchen is depressingly under stocked. He sends comm quickly, looking around the apartment once more.

Aw, babe, were you gonna cook for me? How romantic. That’s not an answer, the asshole.

Cody rolls his eyes, but can’t help the smile from gracing his lips. His stomach warms at the thought of Fox calling him that seriously. He shoves that down, focusing on the pressing issue: what the hell they’re going to eat.

You don’t even have any ration bars, Fox. How are you still alive?

About ten cups of caf a day, and pure spite.

Cody rolls his eyes with a soft chuckle, standing from the couch. You’re worse than Rex, he sends.

I’ll pick something up.

Cody sighs when no other comms come through, and leaves it on the kitchen counter. He makes his way to the fresher, peeling his upper blacks off and leaving them on top of the closed toilet.

It’s been so long since he had time to just take care of himself more than just a quick rinse. He wants to take advantage.

Cody finds Fox’s clippers and gives himself a much overdue haircut. He cleans the hair away and rinses the sink out, before giving himself a proper shave as well. It feels nice going slow, taking his time.

Finally smooth, he shucks his lower blacks as well, and sets a clean towel out for himself. He sets the shower to an almost too hot temperature, and sighs at the water pressure. It’s not any better than on the ship, sadly.

Whatever, a hot shower is a hot shower. And there are no water rations on Coruscant; he can take his time.

And take his time Cody does. He lets the water wash over his sore muscles. He groans as he lets the hot water work him over. It feels so much nicer, just knowing that he doesn’t have to rush, and doesn't have any responsibilities for the next few days.

Eventually he sighs and washes himself, even allowing himself to enjoy the sensation of properly washing his hair.

He groans in self pity as he turns the water off, knowing Fox will probably be getting off shift soon. He gets out of the shower and dries his hair first, walking out of the fresher with the intention of stealing Fox’s blacks.

He's still rubbing the towel through his hair when he hears it.

“Oh, hello there,” Fox purrs, voice half amused and half…something Cody can’t tell.

Cody curses, using the towel to cover himself with warmed cheeks. “Force, Fox, I didn’t know you’d be back so soon!”

Fox is smirking, eyes roving over Cody’s body with dark eyes. He was halfway through getting his armor off, and he continues slowly. “I convinced Thorn to come in half an hour early so I could go,” he says.

Cody groans in humiliation, wrapping the towel fully around his hips. “I’m sorry,” he says, unable to look at Fox anymore.

Fox hums, taking the last of his armor off and stalking closer to Cody. “No need to apologize,” he murmurs, and it just sounds so sensual, so-

No, not while Cody only has a towel in between his groin and Fox. His cheeks warm even more, and he ducks his head. “Fox, I-“

Fox puts a finger under Cody’s chin, lifting gently. Cody is helpless but to allow himself to be moved. He meets Fox’s gaze, his own embarrassed eyes meeting dark, almost hungry ones.

Fox hums once, taking in Cody’s expression. “Why are you embarrassed?” Fox whispers. Cody can feel the other’s breath on his lips, and Cody is really having a hard time remembering how to breathe. “We grew up with communal showers.”

Cody swallows thickly, eyes shifting from Fox’s eyes to his lips and back again. “Because…” he feels his breath shudder as Fox’s thumb rubs against Cody’s jaw. “It’s different. You’re different.”

Fox practically purrs, stepping that much closer. “Why is it different?” He asks. “Why am I different?”

Cody’s eyes flutter, and he fights to keep his breathing under control. “Because you��you never really…I-“ Cody huffs in annoyance. He’s the fucking Marshal Commander of the entire 7th Corps of the GAR. He doesn’t stumble over his words.

And yet.

“You never really seemed as interested,” Cody finally gets out, leaving the as I was implied. It’s not really the answer to Fox’s direct question.

Cody feels more than hears Fox’s breathy laughter. “Are you really so oblivious?” He murmurs, pinching Cody’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I’ve been in love with you since we were tubies, darling.”

Cody doesn’t swoon. If anyone asked him, he most definitely did not swoon. The Marshal Commander does not swoon.

But hearing it said out loud did, maybe, make his knees feel just a tad weaker. Only a little.

“You-you-why didn’t you say anything?” Cody asks, voice surprisingly husky. “I was flirting with you for so long!”

Fox lets out a long suffering sigh. “And here I thought you understood me,” he teases. “Why did you think I sought you out, and let you be in my space all the time?”

Cody hums in acknowledgment, eyes flitting back to Fox’s lips. “Yeah, okay,” he concedes, flashes of memories where Fox was being perhaps a bit too friendly with Cody flitting through his mind. Dammit.

Fox rolls his eyes, smirk set in place. “Idiot.” He doesn’t let Cody reply, before he connects their lips softly.

Cody may have been an idiot so far, but he isn’t anymore. He keeps one hand holding his towel up while the other wraps around Fox’s shoulder, cupping the back of his neck to keep him where he is. He has a lot of missed kissing opportunities to make up for.

#Cody x Fox #Fox x Cody #Cody/fox #fox/cody #my writing #cloneshipping

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cryonme · 3 years

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𝐈 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐁𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐕

PART FIVE- “Just Because They’re Not Here Doesn’t Mean They Stopped Being Wonderful.”

part one here

part two here

part three here

part four here

short series- jj maybank x kook!reader

word count- 4.3k

tw- guns, knives, mentions of weed, stabbing, swearing, mentions of death, fluff 😊, angst 👿, mentions of murder, fighting, drinking, mentions of stitches and hospitals. lmk if I missed anything

a/n- don’t u all love how I said this was gonna be a “short” series and now we’re at 19.2k words total and five parts? and not even done yet? lol. anyway, this chapter is a fucking rollercoaster of emotions and shit gets really real really fast so hold onto your hats, grab some popcorn, and happy reading!

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“Wait, what the fuck?”

Your friends all stared at you with wide eyes, mouths agape. JJ’s grip tightened on your thigh, you winced a little but he didn’t let up, which you were glad he didn’t.

“Wait, your mom is dead?” John B asked, earning a smack on the back of the head from Sarah.

“You had a sister?!” Pope explained, confusion plastered on his face. “I thought that was just a ru- OW!” A smack from Kiara.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Yeah.”

“You think you know a person then all of the sudden she has a dead mom and sister who were killed by her step brother that you didn’t know about.” John B said, a hint of humor in his voice.

“This isn’t funny, John B.” Sarah scolded.

“It’s fine, Sarah.” You assured your friend. “Look, I know I’m a shit friend for not telling you guys things about my life. Tyler, the abortion, my mom and sister. And I’ll work on getting better at it but all of that isn’t important right now, okay?” You looked between John B and Pope, waiting expectedly before they both nodded and backed off.

“What makes you say that, (Y/n)?” Kie asked you, fully turning her attention to you.

“Well when- um, when Tyler showed up at my house that day,” You swallowed your fear, sitting up straight and taking a deep breath. “When Tyler showed up at my house that day, he said ‘I did everything I could to get my mom to marry your dad. My mom doesn’t know, but what she doesn’t know won’t kill her, and now you’re ruining everything with your fat fucking mouth.’”

The room was silent. Nobody really knew what to make out of all of this, all this time you had come off so unbothered, like your life was picture perfect and there was never a dark cloud in your sky. Everything that had happened the past couple of weeks came out of nowhere for the group of friends, especially JJ, John B and Pope, who didn’t even know you had a step brother. But when the three thought back on it, they never really asked.

After about a minute of everyone sitting in shock, Sarah spoke up, “Well, we need to tell your dad and Christine, right?’

You shook your head, “Not until I have enough proof. The entire island’s eyes are on me right now and if I’m wrong I make a fool of myself. I know this is gonna sound really stupid but, I need to find Tyler.”

“No.” JJ protested, his voice sharp.

“You’re right, (Y/n). That does sound stupid.” Pope agreed.

“Super stupid.” John B chimed in.

“I love you, but I have never heard more stupid words leave your mouth.” Kiara said.

“Guys, maybe hear her out.” Sarah said.

Kie whipped her head to the side, looking at the blonde girl in bewilderment. “Seriously? I’m not listening to you when all you seem to do is put (Y/n) in more danger.”

“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t know what the fuck to do!” “You tell someone, dumbass!”

“Jesus, you two! Shut the fuck up!” You interjected, standing up and stomping your foot, ignoring the shooting pain going up your leg.

“I came here because I need help, not to sit here and be judged and have you two fight with each other. Kie, lay off. I begged Sarah not to say anything until I was ready, and promised not to go home until I said something, okay? And you two.” You gestured to John B and Pope, “Telling me I’m stupid for something that I haven’t even explained yet is a little premature. Can we all fucking focus?” You had your time to cry and allow yourself to be broken, but now it was time to get shit done.

Kie shrunk in her seat, muttering a half assed “Sorry” under her breath and crossing her arms. John B and Pope nodded, both boys looking down at their shoes. You sat back down and JJ’s hand returned to its rightful spot on your thigh.

“Now, just, listen to me for a second. We,” You put the emphasis on that word so everyone would be a little bit more open to the idea, “Need to find Tyler so we can somehow record a confession from him. I’ll rile him up, and once I get the confession we get the fuck out. Got it?”

“How the fuck are you gonna find him? Even the Sheriff's department can’t find him.” Sarah said.

“Right,” You responded, “First thing to consider, the police are incompetent, especially here. They probably looked at my house and his job before giving up.”

JJ chuckled, shaking his head as he listened to you talk in awe.

“Second thing to consider, I have his number. I can ask him to meet up and talk it out.”

“The more you talk, the more I really don’t like this plan.” JJ muttered, raking his fingers through his hair.

“The more you talk, the more I wanna kick your teeth in.” You smiled sweetly, “This is the only way.” You tried pulling a joke, but JJ’s face remained concerned, so your face fell and you leaned into him. “I’ll be okay, JJ. I’ve been dealing with Tyler for years, okay?”

JJ nodded, taking a deep breath before pulling away from you.

“So what can we do?”

“Wherever I meet up with Tyler, I need you all to be on standby. Someone on lookout, someone hiding near me just in case things go south, and someone waiting in the vam.”

Everyone agreed in unison, nodding their heads. “Anything we can to get this asshole put away.” John B said, giving you an encouraging smile.

After going over a few details, and finally sending the text to Tyler that you wanted to meet up, the pogues dispersed around the chateau. Pope was talking Sarah’s ear off about the latest book he had just finished while she politely listened and even threw in a couple of her own thoughts, John B and Kie playfully jabbed long sticks at each other, and JJ stood on the porch, watching you swing by yourself on the hammock, lost in thought. He was trying to decide if he should approach you, or give you space. Just then you turned your head and made eye contact with the blond boy, a soft smile on your face, your signature red lipstick back where it belongs.

Fuck space.

He bounded down the stairs and made his way over to you on the hammock, plopping down next to you. Neither of you said anything for a couple minutes, there wasn’t much to say.

“I was 14.” You said, breaking the silence, causing JJ’s head to turn towards you. He stayed silent as you continued.

“Hit and run.” You laughed bitterly. “My little sister was 12. We were finally getting to the point where we didn’t fight everyday, we were becoming friends. She had just started asking me for advice about boys and was always asking to have sleepovers.” You smiled, remembering your little sister fondly. “It still hurts. It’ll always hurt, I think. But, I’ve learned I can’t change what happened, and I try to be thankful for the time I had with her. I would say she probably wouldn’t want me to be sad, but that’s not true, she loved attention.” JJ laughed with you this time.

“What’s her name?” JJ asked.

“Layla.” You responded, her name feeling weird on your tongue. You hadn’t said her name in years. “And my mom, gosh there was no one like my mom.” JJ wasn’t asking, but you were telling.

“She just always understood, you know? She’d let me stay home if my mind was taking over, she continued to buy the ice cream I told her was my favorite when I was 7, I didn’t have the heart to tell her I didn’t like it anymore.” You frowned, staring at your hands. “Christine is great, I love her with everything in me. But sometimes I wish she was in my life under different circumstances.”

JJ nodded in understanding, taking his hand in yours and pressing a lingering kiss to it. “They sound wonderful.”

“They are- were.”

JJ shook his head, “Just because they’re not here doesn’t mean they stopped being wonderful.”

You yanked JJ’s hand so his arm wrapped around your shoulder and you leaned into him, earning a sweet kiss on the top of your head.

“You’re sweet, princess.” You teased, using the nickname that you would use when the two of you fought.

“Tell anyone and you’re dead meat, baby.”

You laughed, resting your head on his chest. “What changed your mind about me?” You asked, biting your bottom lip.

JJ thought for a moment, mulling over his words to avoid saying the wrong thing.

“I never changed my mind.”

Your heart dropped as you began to pull away, feeling embarrassed.

“Uh uh uh, let me finish.” JJ pulled you back against him and you huffed. “I never changed my mind because I’ve felt this way about you all along. I’ve never had such strong feelings for a person before, so when you came along I mistook all of the signs as hatred. My mom left and my dad…” JJ trailed off for a moment, trying to put together his words in the least concerning way possible, “My dad takes his anger out on me. And I just never really learned how to receive love, or how to understand it.”

Your heart sank at JJ’s words. All those times he’d show up to the Chateau with bruises and scrapes, telling everyone to fuck off instead of boasting about how he “totally kicked that kooks ass”, it was his dad.

“JJ-”

“Mmm, let’s not do that now, yeah? Just know I’ve adored you this whole time, I was just too stupid to see it.”

“When did you change your mind about me?” JJ asked.

You pondered for a moment, thinking back on when you first started thinking of JJ differently.

“That night at the Boneyard, when Tyler showed up. I was dancing with Pope and all I could think was, ‘I need JJ’, and then there you were. I didn’t want you to ever leave my side again. When you took me back to the Chateau and sat me down on the couch, I was confused because I felt so safe and loved, more than I ever have. It was so out of the blue. Hours before we had just been screaming at each other and then I never wanted you to let me go.”

“You’re making this really hard, Red.” JJ huffed, running a hand over his face.

“What?” You asked craning your neck to look up at him.

“Not kissing you.��

You sat up from your position on his chest, turning your body so you were facing each other, your legs hanging off one side of the hammock and his off the other.

“Then kiss me.”

“(Y/n)...”

“What, scared?”

JJ didn’t say anything, he just looked at you. You had that striking red grin, and your eyes held that glint of mischief and joy.

“You were just inconsolable like, an hour ago.”

“But I’m not now.”

“I-”

“Please, JJ.” You pouted, your eyes big and your frown deep as you slowly reached for him.

And he couldn’t say no to that face.

He slowly brought his hand up to cradle the side of your neck, his thumb resting on your cheek as his face slowly leaned into yours, his hand softly pulling you closer by the neck. You brought one hand up to the back of his neck, burying your fingers in his hair as his other hand found its place on your waist. You stared at each other for a moment, noses barely touching. Your heart was beating so fast you felt like it was about to crawl out of your throat, the anticipation was driving you crazy but you were also cherishing every second of it, just being so close to him, knowing what’s about to happen.

His lips just barely brushed over yours and your entire body erupted in butterflies, goosebumps dancing all up and down your arms and legs.

“You fucker.” You teased and JJ giggled before fully planting his lips on yours. You felt like you had been on fire and had been dumped into an ice bath. The relief that covered your entire body and soul was something you had never felt before. You had kissed plenty of people in your lifetime, and nothing had ever compared to the feeling you had kissing JJ.

You pulled away for a moment to catch your breath, but JJ whined and pulled you back into him, bringing you to sit on his lap as he continued to kiss you. You both giggled and broke apart when you nearly toppled out of the hammock, JJ’s hands immediately steadying you. He looked up at you while stroking your cheekbone with his thumb before planting soft kisses to your arm, trailing his lips up to your shoulder, neck, cheek and finally one last sweet kiss on your lips.

“Well it’s about goddamn time!” John B yelled as the rest of the pogues whooped and hollered, jumping up and down. Both of you flipped off your friends and JJ kissed you once more, your middle fingers still in the air.

“You’re fucking incredible.” JJ muttered once you broke yet another kiss.

“I know.” You smirked.

Once JJ helped you off the hammock, with a lot of wincing and you telling him his kissing made your bruised lip hurt, you made your way back over to your friends, an unmistakable feeling of joy filling everyone’s hearts.

John B handed you and JJ a beer, which you had to decline because of your concussion, much to your dismay, but you gladly took the joint that Kie offered you, blowing out the smoke into JJ’s mouth before taking the hit for yourself. The sun started to set on the Chateau, so Pope and John B set up a fire and Kie brought out her ukulele, her and Sarah singing in harmony to Over the Rainbow by Israel Kamakawiwo’ole. Your heart swelled in your chest listening to JJ quietly singing along with his arm slung around your shoulders, his face was tinted the slightest shade of pink from being in the sun all day, making his eyes look impossibly more blue. You knew tomorrow brought troubles and anxiety, but you pushed them to the back of your mind, enjoying this beautiful moment with your friends. You rested your head on JJ’s shoulder, your hand coming up to hold his that was around your shoulder, placing a gentle kiss on his hand. JJ blushed and squeezed you just a little bit tighter.

“(Y/n), you staying the night?”

You smiled and nodded, your eyes a bit droopy from the weed. You had texted Christine already, telling her you were staying the night and assuring her that everyone was staying the night and you were safe.

“Yes!” Sarah exclaimed, getting up from her spot next to John B. “More beer?” Everyone apart from you nodded as Sarah made her way inside the house to grab more cold beer.

“Aw, well if it isn’t the goonies.”

That voice.

Tyler approached the Chateau, Topper, Kelce and Rafe hot on his heels.

Everyone stood up immediately, JJ pushed you behind him without a second thought.

“Heard my baby sister wanted to meet up tonight, thought I’d come to her, spare her the trouble.” Tyler said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You were appreciative of JJ’s protectiveness over you, but this was your fight. “I know what you did, Tyler.” You said, trying your hardest to hide the shakiness in your voice as you pushed JJ out of your way, taking a couple steps forward.

“There she is!” Tyler exclaimed, gesturing his arms to you. “You don’t know shit, dumbass.”

“You killed my mom and sister.”

“Me?” Tyler raised a hand to his chest in shock and turned to his friends, who all shook their heads like you were crazy. “I would never do such a thing.” “You said-”

“Did you hit your head too hard the other day? Sounds to me like you’re making things up.”

He was trying to make you feel crazy, and you weren’t putting up with it.

“What was your plan, huh?” You asked, standing your ground. “Hit my mom and my little sister with your car, devastating my family so my dad could go running into your unknowing mother’s arms. Were you gonna kill all of us next so you could get the money? How exactly did you plan on doing that?”

Tyler’s chest was heaving up and down, sharp breaths coming in and out of his nose.

“Layla was 12 years old, you psychopath.”

“I never meant to kill your fucking sister!”

And there it was. Eerie silence fell over the Chateau like a heavy blanket.

“You motherfucker.” You shrieked, stomping forward and sending your hand flying across his cheek. Before you could even blink, Tyler had his hand around your throat and the barrel of a gun pressed to your jaw. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. You could see the pogues, Kiara with a hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes, hugging Sarah close to her, John B and Pope holding JJ back, his eyes wild with anger and fear. You could see Topper and Kelce with wide eyes, obviously unaware of the gun in your step brother's possession. You could see Rafe with a knowing grin on his face. Bastard.

You were terrified, panic surging through your body as you tried to stay still so you wouldn’t anger him with any sudden movements.

“Any of you even think about moving and I kill her!” He screamed.

“Tyler, put the gun down man, what the fuck?” Topper said, his voice calm, trying to talk him down.

“Fuck you!”

And suddenly Tyler was on the ground, the gun flying into the darkness. JJ wasted no time running to your step brother, grabbing him by his shirt collar and beating his face with his fists. You and Rafe made eye contact before both of you made a break for the gun, scrambling through the darkness. Rafe tackled you down and tried to reach for it, but you kneed him in the crotch, hoping to buy you a couple seconds. The Cameron boy groaned and held his area, toppling over and whining in a fetal position.

“Pussy boy.” You rolled your eyes and crawled toward the gun, smiling once it was in your grip before Rafe pulled you back by your ankle. You flipped over onto your back and pointed the gun at him.

“You don’t have the guts.”

“Self defense, bitch. Now get off of me.”

Rafe backed up with his hands in the air and you made your way back to the group, gun in hand, still pointed at Rafe. Tyler and JJ were going at it, both throwing punches and kicks, the rest of the group fighting off Topper and Kelce.

“Back off my friends or I'll shoot!” You yelled, and everyone stopped and turned to you with your gun pointed at Rafe. The three kooks backed off with their hands up in surrender.

“You won’t shoot me, Little Red.” Tyler said, walking closer to you.

“I will if you try anything.” You responded, taking the gun off of Rafe and shoving him forward so he was still in your eyesight, now pointing it at Tyler.

“You stay away from her!” JJ yelled, charging towards Tyler but quickly being held back by Rafe and Topper.

Tyler got so close to you that the gun was touching his t-shirt.

Why was he testing you? He had to have something up his sleeve.

The motherfucker literally had something up his sleeve.

Tyler tore a switchblade out of his jacket sleeve and jabbed it into your collarbone, and in the same second you fired the gun.

Your brain felt fuzzy, you couldn’t even feel the knife in your collarbone, the only way you knew it was there was because you could see it sticking out of the corner of your eye.

You heard screams, multiple screams.

Footsteps running away.

Was someone crying?

Were you crying?

Everyone ran to you, JJ leading the group, so he got to you first. He immediately put his hands on your face, frantically searching your eyes before you dropped to your knees, JJ following suit.

“Baby, look at me.” He said firmly. Someone gently took the gun from your hands, why were you still holding it? You brought your hand up to touch the knife, crying out in pain from the smallest touch.

“No, don’t touch it, okay? Leave it alone, paramedics are on their way okay?”

You still didn’t look at him, your eyes were wide as you stared at everyone around you, their faces full of concern.

“She’s in shock.” Pope stated. He was crouched in front of you, next to JJ. “Try to bring her back to reality.”

“How the fuck do I do that?” JJ snapped.

“Chill, JJ! Talk to her, touch her, anything!”

JJ’s left hand continued to cradle your face and you leaned into his touch as his right hand threaded through your hair. “You’re okay, okay? Can you talk to me?” His voice broke, tears beginning to fill his blue eyes.

Your eyes wandered away from the group and landed on Tyler’s body, lifeless. You let out a gasp as if all of the wind had been knocked out of your body.

“I killed him.” You rasped.

JJ quickly moved in front of the body, blocking your view of him. Your breathing was shallow as you brought your hands up to your neck, trying to claw at the skin to make way for you to breathe. Pope’s hands gently grabbed yours, moving them away from your neck and holding them in your lap. JJ gave him a thankful nod and he situated himself in front of you.

“Christine-” Your body flooded with guilt and sadness for your stepmom, that was her son. He may have done unspeakable things to you and her family but that was her son. And you killed him.

“Hey, hey, hey. Shhh,” JJ was quick to stop the terrible thought. “You had to, okay? She’ll understand. Just focus on me, baby.”

You nodded and squeezed Pope’s hands, focusing your eyes on JJ’s.

“You’re doing so good, pretty girl. Just a couple more minutes, okay?”

You nodded again. The pain in your collarbone was beginning to worsen as your shock wore off and you whimpered.

Great, you thought, another fucking injury to make my life even better.

Really your whole body hurt, your concussion and bruises worsening and stitches ripping open from Rafe tackling you to the ground.

“It hurts.” You whine, a single tear escaping from your eye, JJ wiped it before it could run down your face. “I know.” He whispered. “I know, my love, I’m so sorry.” He rested his forehead on yours, trying his best to give you as much comfort as he could without pulling you against him and driving the blade further in.

“Fuck, you guys. We didn’t get a recording.” Kie said, slapping her palm against her forehead. You removed one hand from Pope’s and worked through your pain and brought your phone out of your back pocket, tossing it on the ground, not having enough strength to hand it to her.

John B picked it up and smiled, your phone had been recording the entire time, starting just a minute after Tyler made himself known at the Chateau.

“(Y/n), you magnificent kook.” John B said, giving your arm a squeeze. You had moved your forehead to rest on JJ’s shoulder, your body posed awkwardly to avoid the knife being touched, one hand still in Pope’s.

Everyone was relieved, but the dead body in their presence and the knife in your body made it hard to be completely relieved. Once the paramedics and police arrived, JJ had to release you from his hold, watching the paramedics put you on the gurney and load you in the back of the ambulance, by yourself, for the second time.

Kiara and Pope were talking to the police, showing them the proof on your phone and the gun and walking them through everything that happened while JJ watched the ambulance drive away, as soon as it was out of sight he broke down, John B quick to pull his friend into his arms, Sarah gently leaned her head on his back, her hand coming up to stroke his back

“She doesn’t deserve any of this.” JJ cried, holding onto his best friend. He knew you were gonna be okay, the paramedics said the knife would be easy to remove and they could stitch up the wound easily, but he was worried about you. You would never be the same.

“She doesn’t.” John B agreed.

“I just want her to be okay.”

“I know, bubba, me too.” John B replied, his own tears brimming in his eyes, “She will be.”

JJ could feel Sarah shaking against him, her tears wetting his shirt and he unravelved in arm from John B to bring her into the hug. “Get in here, kook princess.” JJ teased through his tears. Pope and Kiara soon joined the group hug, comforting their friends through touch.

“What did Shoupe say?” JJ asked once they all pulled away, wiping at his tears.

“They said (Y/n)’s okay, a very obvious case of self defense, but they’re still going to ask her a couple questions once she��s of sound mind.” Pope answered and Kiara nodded.

“Thank God.” Sarah breathed out and JJ’s shoulders relaxed in relief, one less thing to worry about.

“Well why are we all just standing here?” John B asked after a couple moments of silence. “Let’s go see our girl.”

“I am still meeeeee you are still youuuuu” I couldn’t get that damn song out of my head while I was writing this

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hozierandco · 3 years

Text

Sam Fender x Reader / call me lover

Friends to lovers. Lots of fluff.

Plot: Y/N and Sam have been friends for as long as they can remember but growing up has led them to grow apart. There are many things they have to tell one another.

The thing with kids is that they grow up. Too quickly, with too much silence surrounding them.

Sam was a boy, Y/N was a girl but to one another, they were just friends. They had known each other for as long as they could recall and had not doubted one second that they were just friends. Of course, there were the subtle questions from their parents, the hesitation when Sam would spend the night at Y/N's but their parents too knew it was just friendship.

Although they agreed that with all the secrets and trust they shared, they would be the best of couples, they thought it to be too pure to be broken.

Their friends too believed that it would inevitably happen, that they would end up together. Of all people, Dru was the most persistent on the matter. He had known Y/N for a longer time than Sam since Y/N's mother was the doula and a close friend to Drew's. Therefore, the two of them considered each other as siblings.

He liked to tease Sam to make him confess a crush he would have on Y/N. To no avail.

And then, there had been Y/N's first boyfriend when she was 15. At a time in his life when he was still playing Fifa in his room when he was not toying with his piano, he had to endure his best friend clung to her boyfriend's arm.

For the first time, he felt repulsed by the sight of Y/N but mostly by that of the Alex Turner wannabe her heart had fallen for. He began writing about love and deception though he had no reason to have known either.

Of course, the idyll was cut short with Alex Turner #2 coming back from summer camp without his virginity anymore, exploit he felt the need to share with the whole school.

Sam and Drew had come to Y/N's rescue the day at school and together, they had eaten pizza and waited for Y/N's tears to disappear. It was the world against them from now on, and nothing could change that.

Sam had worked his ass off to make Y/N proud and had done all he could for his A-levels. In spite of all the intensity and long hours of going over Horatio Nelson and the Boer War with Y/N, he gave up and started working in a pub. He was to be a musician, no matter what.

His fingers got crooked because of his guitar, his voice sore but at last, he was given a festival to play at. Drew would be there too of course.

As for Y/N, she had started working in an architect's office while studying at the local Uni.

Things got so fast. The kids grew and were soon overwhelmed with new responsibilities. Y/N had a new life for herself and Sam was about to tour before releasing his debut album. When he found out that a label had signed him up, the three friends along with Dean and Joe had screamed their lungs out.

It had come out of the blue that Joe fancied Y/N and it had also come out of the blue that Sam didn't like this turn of event.

The tour meant that they would not see each other for at least half a year as Sam's studio was in London. They had never been away from one another for so long so the day Sam left North Shields, it felt like the soil was crumbling under her feet.

Y/N informed herself of Sam's whereabouts through Dru as Sam didn't reply to her texts. Dru was regularly implying to his friend that he should call her every now and then, but he was always "too busy". Just like that, silent formed around them.

"Sam, call her", Dru begged one more time.

Sam sighed. He did not dare calling her, he felt as though he had let time rule his emotions. The more distance he put between them, the harder it was to think of something to say. Sure, he was busy but he always had been busy.

"You know what day it is today, don't you?"

Sam stared with round eyes at Dru.

"It's her bloody birthday, Sam. Just call her, okay?"

Dru had taken Sam's phone from his coat that was lying on the floor and forced Sam to take it.

Sam went to the room, right next to where he was and dialled Y/N's number, ending up on the voicemail "Hi! I hope that the voicemail just indicates that you're getting hammered somewhere and I also wish you a happy birthday. I'm sorry I didn't call earlier, I wish I could make it up to you. I miss you and I love you"

It was not until the message got sent that he realised what he had just said. Sam knew that opening up always led him to say too much and he couldn't take the risk to lose Y/N.

"What's wrong?" Dru asked when he saw Sam visibly agitated.

"I screwed up"

"You just had one call to make, how can you screw up a call?"

"I said something I shouldn't have. I told her that I loved her"

"As in I love you?"

"Yeah, I mean it's not something we say to each other"

"And do you? Love her?"

"Yes, Dru. I think I do. I think I always loved her"

"Well then, you haven't screwed up. You've just made things easier"

Days went by without a word from Y/N and Sam to pass time was playing with his phone a couple of times a day, not knowing what or if he should write to her. But then it got worrying, he feard that something had happened to her.

"D'you have news of Y/N?", he confronted Dru one night.

"She didn't say that she loves you back, huh?"

"She hasn't said anything at all, in fact. Is she alright?"

"That's odd. Yeah, she's fine, I just got a text from her, not even ten minutes ago. I can ask her to reach out for you if you want"

Dru is a magician as not only five minutes later, Sam's phone buzzed.

Y/N: Dru said you called on my birthday. My phone was off, you should have left a message... Sam: I did! You didn't listen to it? Y/N: I didn't get anything... Sam: Can I call you now? Y/N: No, not tonight. I'll call you tomorrow morning, good? Sam: Yes :)

Sam was not a morning person but he woke up as early as he could. He waited and finally she called. On FaceTime. She looked radiant, unlike him who severely lacked of sleep.

"Hey!"

Bring the tone down, Fender, Sam thought. You're gonna freak her out.

"Hi, sorry I couldn't call you yesterday. It's good to see you"

Just like that, one moving still of Sam was enough to have her mood lit up.

"So, can't make a voicemail work, huh?" Y/N joked around.

"I promise you, it worked. I don't know what happened but it's good I get to tell you like that"

"Tell me what?"

"Well, first that I'm sorry I've been an idiot lately. It's just that I've missed you so much and I wanted to see you and I couldn't stop thinking of you all the time"

An unfamiliar noise of a plate falling.

"Garlic's going on an adventure?" Sam referred to Y/N's cat that was known to be the clumsiest cat on Earth and that Sam had helped naming six years prior.

The distraction was much needed as Sam was blushing and it started showing on camera.

"Let me just go somewhere quieter"

As Y/N left her living room for her bedroom, Sam saw the silhouette of a man trying to assemble the splinters the plate had left behind.

"Sorry for that. What were you saying?"

"Nothing. I'm just sorry I didn't call you earlier and I hoped that you had a great birthday..."

"You sure there was nothing else"

"Yeah, yeah I'm sure"

The two of them chatted for another 5 minutes when the conversatio became awkward.

Y/N was certain when she hung up that Sam was about to reveal his feelings. And she would have let him. In fact, she would have revealed hers as well.

But Dan had to be in the way. Or was it Ian? Stan? Y/N had always done this. When she was thinking of Sam too much, she was collecting men to share the night with.

She never got attached to anybody but liked to wake up by a man's side.

A few weeks later, Dru called Y/N with good news.

"We've got some rest from the tour. We'll be at Shields for a month or so. I cannot wait to see you again, little sister!"

Y/N had set her mind to meet them at the train station from where she would get in the tour bus with them. Since Sam's aborted declaration, Y/N had not gotten any news from him and was not taking any.

When the van arrived and its doors opened, Dru ran to Y/N and hugged her "Ah, come here, you!"

There was a new face amongst the original team.

"Hi, I'm Lisa" the stranger introduced herself. By gazing that her hand was in Sam's, Y/N took a wild guess that the two of them were a thing.

"Nice to finally meet you. You're the 5th Beatle or so it seems. The boys could not shut up about you"

Y/N grinned at Dru and fainted a smile towards Sam. Unfortunately, she couldn't say as much for Lisa and blamed Dru to have kept it a secret.

Lisa was gorgeous, it was undeniable. Her posh accent had made the journey with her and contrasted with hers and the boys'. As long as Sam is happy, I'm happy, Y/N tried to convince herself as she got in the van.

"So, pub?" Dru asked. It was not even 5 pm but the idea seemed to everyone's taste.

"I'll join you later if that's alright. Joe, can you drop me off? I've got a few things to do before I join"

"You alright?" Dru whispered at her as he was seated next to her in the back of the van.

"Yeah, I'm fine" but as she answered, she stared a little too long at Lisa and her brown curls, her tanned skin and her perfect Julia Roberts smile.

"It's Lisa, huh? I don't like her either. Too posh for Sammy"

"I've never said I didn't like her"

"Then what?" Dru hesitated and then exclaimed "Oh!"

As he had nearly shouted, all of the boys and Lisa turned around to laugh at his looks of bewilderment.

Dru shushed himself down as his friends took the piss at him "Finally got the epiphany that you're ugly, Michael?" Dean mocked him.

As Dru brushed the joke and everything went back to normal, he went on with his whispering "You fancy Sam?"

Y/N simply nodded which got Dru leaning back in his seat, stirred by the confession.

"There, you go, princess" Joe stated as he had parked right in front of Y/N's flat.

They all greeted Y/N goodbye and agreed that they would see each other at 7. Sam did not dare looking at her in the eye. He knew he should have said something about Lisa but he had not come around it, why would he since she had her own life now?

As she opened the door, Y/N started tearing up a little, stunned by all the events. She seized her phone and sent a text.

By 6.15, the intercom rang. Y/N had changed into a wrap dress made of sequins and black heels.

"Hey!", she exclaimed to the man who was waiting by the door. This one was Chris, a chap she had seen some days prior. He reminded her of Alfred Enoch somehow with his chiseled jaw and round cheeks. Y/N didn't feel like being alone tonight and Chris was good company.

"Y/N, here!" Joe informed as he was in charge of getting a new round of drinks "By the table over there. Oh hi" he said to the stranger "I'm Joe"

Chris was by far the best-dressed man there as, clearly not familiar to pubs, he was wearing an open white shirt over brown chinos.

Dru and Tom made some space for Y/N and Chris to sit once Y/N had introduced everyone to her date.

The conversation was very much alive by 8 except for the fact that Lisa and Chris felt left out as it was all about childhood memories and family-related topics.

Sam was all eyes for Y/N. It was as though nothing awkward had ever happened between them and as though they were kids all over again.

In an effort to include Chris in the night's ambiance, Y/N asked him to dance with her. She hoped by that that she could get a reaction from Sam as dancing was THEIR thing.

At her birthday parties, they were always the two ones inventing silly dance moves on cheap Eurodance. As teens, they would always wiggle at gigs while the rest of the audience would look at them tenderly.

"I should get going. I've got a meeting in the morning" Chris let Y/N know as a song by Marvin Gaye ended. It was only 10 pm but Y/N didn't hold him back.

"C'mon, Sam. Invite her to dance, you're dreaming of it" Lisa rushed him. "She's your best friend after all"

What if he didn't want to be her best friend anymore?

Sam got up and joined Y/N. Tonight, he would tell her the truth. Not tomorrow, tonight.

"May I accompany you?"

"Yes, you may. Lisa's not into dancing?"

"I don't know but I'm into dancing with you"

"He's in love with her, isn't he?" Lisa asked Dru who had just ordered more drinks.

"Yeah, I think he is.. I'm sorry"

"Don't be, it's no big deal. Sam and I were just fooling around anyway. She's sweet, just what he needs"

"They just have to admit it now"

"So, Chris.. You two are together for long?" Sam asked.

"No, I mean technically we're not together. We've met twice with tonight"

"He seems nice"

"Yeah, I suppose. You and Lisa?"

"About the same: couple of weeks, nothing too serious"

"What did you mean to tell me last time?"

"Last time?"

"Yeah, you were saying that you missed me and all"

"Well, yeah. Touring without you sucked. I've missed you every fucking day. I want to be with you all the time. It's always been like that me and you"

"I missed you too, Sam"

The song had changed.

"What I'm about to say could ruin what we have but I just have to say it: I've always loved you, Y/N. It took me a whole ass tour to realise that. It's what I told you on the voicemail"

"I love you too, you idiot!"

Dru admired Lisa's ability to remain amicable even when she understood that Sam and Y/N had just confessed their feelings. He had judged her badly and saw what Sam had seen in her: a genuine goodness.

Sam was eager to kiss Y/N but had to make sure that Lisa was alright. He wanted more than anything else in the world Y/N and him to be together but he couldn't do it like that.

He turned around to Lisa only to see her kissing Dru. Sam shook his head and turned back on Y/N who was laughing at this sudden act of PDA.

Sam laughed along and then joined his lips to Y/N's.

#sam fender #imagines #fluff #friends to lovers

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wolfsneedles · 3 years

Text

im sorry but otis and maeve exacerbate the goodness and badness both in each other and this makes them special and more connected with their glimpses, gestures and inability to stay away for longer. unless ur telling me there are other superior ships too but the ending of s3 ep7 was so so special. Otis and Maeve's ending lines in the rain scene is pretty PRETTY indicative of who at least should be with whom, when its always been them in each others mind. Now idk what would writers do or make of it in s4 and cliffhanger like ending, but all love interests added were poorly added and gave us false hope for both characs to be with someone else like isaac/ruby thing, however the entire thing as eric says too, "happened bcs of otis and maeve coming together with special diff traits and bonds to form the best clinic that offers pretty feasible and amateur like opinions which in turn polished otis' skills of helping people more and also for maeve who was already pretty smart and bright ahead of her times, in her speech and tastes" and this was entire reason and beginning of the best season which led to clinical education, awareness for teenagers while otis and maeve also navigate through each others lives and troubles and love and ways of communicating since both have a different way of communicating and both adhere to each other and also give each other space more, (or maybe bcs i do prefer that ship more than others, im just so hyped at every scene and moment). However the best moment for me wasn't the bus scene kiss moment in france but when otis and maeve were both kicked out of sexed class for open and different opinions against or anti to whatever prude and harsh concepts Hope was instilling in people, a lot of ppl and characters owned up to their sexuality and rebelled but Otis and Maeve rejecting the idea and challenging and arguing but then also being kicked out of class is very special moment and a parallel between them that so many perhaps don't notice, It also tells how differently in choices, they are so connected in thoughts, Maeve never shrugged off otis and he doesn't bother her only and until they both knew they couldn't really stay away and he made an effort even after f_cking up to stay in his life, and apologized and competed rather foolishly with isaac but all this bottled down again to ruby and isaac just used for story development and then removed from scenes but in a way i think, it is best for them since otis and maeve are both confused about each other & overall relationships, i think they both would take things v slowly and they are that kind of patient couple if they are a couple.....which i cant see hope of. It all actually just started from them too, which led to graffitis and sexual topics to be embraced and accepted more, bcs idk if someone also noticed how otis has so much of jean in him, and even if he is embarrassed by his mother sometimes, the genes just reflect in him. He is good at articulating and smooth and i think maeve picks it up quickly, they don't even guess when they are together, and they both have innate desire to help ppl esp maeve under that hard rock shell of an exterior, she is the most selfless and forgiving person, maybe too much, and lets go of a lot of stuff, always looks forward to future and is quite pragmatic even but in sense of otis, they both are always inexplicably drawn and held together to each other by some bitter false or sweet ripe memory of their previous days and its so funny or adorable to see them actually cling foolishly to their past encounter messages, moments, talks, and dreams/jokes of having a clinic. We see eric as bestfriend of Otis rooting for them too, and so does Aimee (which is weak evidence or parallel since writers are putting hints like this always but it is always jeopardized somehow in the end too so im not hoping or keeping too high hopes on anything).

The rain moment in s3ep7 is the most heart-warming because maeve now doesn't push otis back and neither does she falls back on isaac somehow, and she welcomes his opinion again, only this time they actually confess in pretty open words & expressions which is more meaningful and rigorous and sparkling than the RainmomentInFrance which i think was, meaningless or maybe just a way to bring them close together.

You cannot tell me this is excellent dialogue exchange and yet so simple with breath your name by Sixpence playing in the BG,

Otis: "It was never about the clinic, it was to be close to you – and even if we aren't romantically together, id like to see you everyday, Nothing feels right when you aren't here"

This is more about companionship and soulmate-ism too than just a sexual relationship or deep crush situation. Even if they aren't together romantically, and still wanting to be close to her is big big thing & detail for at least something good and warm for them in future, because he hasn't confessed this to anyone or ruby even which was initially a casual relationship even. This explains pretty well that even if they aren't together or intended to be together, - the staying close + together or near each other is enough to make day.

Maeve: "It wasn't about the money for me, it was also to be close to you too

Maeve doesn't say much but a) smiles when he says we can be team and due to nearness to her he wanted to work on further and b).she exclaims and rebuts his claim that she was in it for money only when she has never been lucky in family/financial dept and wanted to be close to her too, but also how this was method for her to earn money too so like double benefit because maeve does need money and we cannot reduce her to romantic person only but the hardworking intelligent and practical persona she carries and embodies! and wants to rise academically and also does it selflessly, doesn't obstruct or infringe on someone's rights like most people do. But she also does admit at the same time it wasnt just for the money. With the background music score this moment might be the best cliché end or romantic confession even if in future it doesn't mean much because words...are winds and fade away, but i cannot deny the canon visible goodness these both characters bring out in one another, its like they do compliment and fit each other which i always find quite evident from s1 until s2 made their friendship too sour but its about what they bring in each other and only think abt themselves in each others presence. When they are with someone else they think about other things clouding their mind yet sometimes when they talk to each other, its like they both do comfort each other or it wouldn't have pained the writers to show how visibly hateful they are if they were. Perhaps the abortion moment in s1 was also very warm and changed my mind so much abt them, its like how otis is always there in worse situations for maeve along with aimee too ofc, and sometimes its childish to see him try so hard and desperate to be there but she eventually lets him in.

#sex ed meta #sex education netflix #sex education spoilers #sex ed s3 #sex ed season 3 #sex ed 3 #sex education #sex ed netflix #sex ed #maeve wiley #otis milburn #this isnt pro ship discussion either but how they bring the best in each other regardless of shortcomings and #dick like attitude of otis initially which almost every charac had #but the chemistry in this one isn't in s3 only it was always there and it just got dim and buried #i feel most excited when i see them #and thankful to writers for not giving us enough screentime for them huh so...#maeve x otis #otis x maeve #sex education s3

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quirklessidiot · 4 years

Text

Title: coward :: epilogue Pairing: Y/N x Miya Atsumu Genre: angst, romance, and very slow burn [ex to lovers au] Warnings: Cursing, alcohol, mentions of unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy, heavy mentions of abortion, and brief mentions of trauma

notes:

we’ve finally reached it guys! the end :”> this story has been one of the things i’m very much proud of. From this chapter onwards, it’s all just fluff and well Atsumu and Y/N content. thank you for sticking around despite the slow burns and see you on the side stories and the drabbles. ill be accepting eight drabbles for this story and it’ll be open after all the side stories are complete, uwu.

previous masterlist [ ss;; one, two, three, four ]

“...I wonder how you put them to bed.”

“They usually sleep immediately after I give them a glass of milk.” You blinked, looking up from your paperwork, “Did they give you a hard time again?”

“They chunked a pillow at me and that started a pillow fight.”

Soft laughter filled the room and Atsumu felt his heart soften at the sound of that, such a beautiful laugh you had.

It’s been a year since that confrontation but it feels so surreal whenever he wakes up to see you lying next to him, snuggled on his chest or the kids suddenly barging into the room to catapult themselves to bed with you two.

Him, you, children.

A family.

“Are you not going to sleep yet?”

“No,” You breathed, shifting through paper works,“I have to finish this if I want to watch your game next week.”

“Can I lay on your lap then?”

“We have a very big bed.” You deadpanned, you were still stoic and blank as ever but comparing to before, you were more open to him with your emotions and thoughts. Albeit, he didn’t know much about why you ran away - Daiki says to give you some time - or what happened with your family, he doesn’t mind because he promised he’d wait and be patient with you.

Atsumu even suggests that if you can’t talk to him about it, he’d willingly look for good psychiatrists around the area to help with your trauma. The sessions seem to be going well so far, albeit it was slow, you were finally taking the proper steps to heal.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Atsumu grinned childishly and situated himself on your lap. Unknowingly, you’d start playing with his hair. He suddenly feels like he’s about to doze off by the domestic gesture and the familiar sound of your breathing but he is immediately awoken by the small voice of yours.

“Do you want to know why I never introduced you to my family?” you suddenly asked, his eyes slowly turned towards you yet you continue to play with his hair nonchalantly as if you weren’t talking about a heavy topic, “Our situation was a lot like my parents. I was born when my okaasan was in the middle of studying medicine and my otosan was a law student.”

Atsumu remains quiet as he listens to your story.

“They were both from very rich families with promising futures, they dated, they were happy until I happened…” You paused, continuing to play with his hair, “Okaasan wasn’t able to finish her course and she got depressed because of that, her family had turned her back on her. So she begged otosan to marry her even if he didn’t want to so that she could finish her degree and return to her family.”

You continue your story; telling him everything about how your father fell out of love with your mother, how scared you were of your mother growing up, how she quit being a doctor because she was an alcoholic and almost sued for drinking on the job, and how you came to the realization that you weren’t supposed to be born when you were only eight years old, “...that night we met at the frat party was the day of my otosan’s wedding to his mistress, they had called out how the previous wedding and me was a mistake as a joke but it still kind of stinged.” You confessed, “I didn’t know what I’d do if I hadn’t met you that night.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was soft, comforting even and it made you smile because despite his rather loud attitude, he understood you very well and was very patient with you.

He’s empathetic and it makes you wonder why you even ran away in the first place, maybe Daiki was right that night seven years ago, maybe you should’ve told him and stayed with him.

“Whenever I was with you back then, you didn’t make me feel that way so I didn’t want to spoil it or destroy that feeling. I didn’t want you to see me in that light.” You divulged, recalling the memories you had with him, “I felt like I was supposed to be there with you. You were a reminder that it was alright to be alive. That I wasn’t a mistake.”

Comfortable silence fills the air as he takes it all in.

Atsumu takes a hold of your hand that’s playing with his hair and gives it a comforting peck, “Was that also why you couldn’t tell me back then that you were pregnant?”

“You were being scouted for the jackals that time and I was scared we’d end up like my parents because I disrupted your dreams.” You ran your hands through his hair again, playing with the blonde strands, “I didn’t want the kids yet at the same time I couldn’t abort them because they were yours.It was very confusing.”

“Would you...Would you have pushed through with it? With the abortion?”

“Probably.” you blinked, recalling that moment you were at the clinic,you recalled the feeling of nervousness as you waited for them to call your name, “With the past I had, I doubt I would’ve made a good mother. Would you have hated me if I had done it?”

“No. I don’t think I would.I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love those brats, I love this family but at the end of the day, it would’ve been your choice.” He replies softly, drawing small circles on your hands, “It would’ve been better if you went up to me and told me though, at least I would’ve been there.”

“Well, in the end, I didn’t push through. I couldn’t do it. They were yours as much as they were mine and I couldn’t let that go after breaking off with you.” you paused, “I also told myself that they’d never feel that way, that they’d never feel as if they were born out of a mistake.”

“And you did a damn good job at it.” He complimented, “You placed your own okaasan to shame.”

“You placed my otosan to shame too…” You smiled softly, suddenly a question popped in your head, you might as well ask it now since the timing seemed to be better than ever, “Would you like to get married?”

Atsumu’s eyes immediately widen at what you said and he sits up, “What the hell, Y/N? I should be the one asking that!” He loudly exclaims and you cover his mouth to muffle his voice.

“The kids are asleep.” You choke back a laughter, shushing him, “And I think it should be me the one who should ask for your hand, after all the shit I put you through-”

The blonde setter takes your hands off his mouth and cuts you off, “First of all, that was my choice. Second of all, how many times do I have to tell you that we were both at fault there? We’re doing a damn good job now. Mind you,” he immediately scrambles out of the bed right after before you could say anything else and looks through his sock dresser, he takes out a small box and your eyes widen, is that what you thought it was?

“I was supposed to give it to you when I officially got in the jackals back then.” Atsumu sheepishly confessed, “I couldn’t throw it away after you left, it was the little hope I guess that you’d come back. I mean, I’ll get you a new one now since i got-”

“I didn’t think you were the sappy type.” You glazed, cutting him off, completely enamored by the gesture, “You’re very cheesy.”

“Only to you.”

You scrunch your nose, faking a disgusted look but Atsumu knows better than that and just crawls back in your arms and gives you a chaste kiss on the lips that you reciprocate almost immediately. It’s slow, languid, and passionate. Something people wouldn’t expect from someone like him.

“Don’t bother buying a new one, I think I like this one better.” You smiled, pulling away as you hold out your hand in which he happily puts on the simple band. He looks into your eyes again, the eyes he loved looking at since he was nineteen. The eyes that were filled with so much emotion that it always contrasted your face that was void of emotions. The same eyes that he dreamed his kids (and they did) to have when he asked you that one night if you wanted to have a family.

“I’m in love with you.” you break the silence.

You never said those words out loud before to him but hearing it now, after all that you’ve both been through. It’s worth it.

He’d do it all again just to be in this moment.

“I’m very much in love with you too.” He grins, leaning back in for another kiss.

Finally…

Finally he was able to catch up with you.

taglist [officially closed, if you guys want to be removed for the side stories, feel free to tell me hehe ilyasm and thank you once again, coward wouldn’t be possible without all you people + other readers]

@fortheloveofiwaizumi ; @svtbitch ; @kiyoomile ; @lovedanii ; @juno-multifandom ; @gyubit17 ; @saeranoppa ; @nixxona ; @kyomihann @shorttstackk ; @intoomuchfandoms ; @yammmers ; @mx-minxx @itsmattsunshinehere ; @missingmystogan ; @volleybloop ; @imcravingyou ; @yams-wants-that-booty ; @liathachcapricious ; @pinknugget @seikamuzu ; @marigoldthoughts ; @sillykittt ; @baejinoffcl ; @alluring-akaashi ; @bnhasstuff ; @intheawks ; @bokuakadaily ; @agaassi ; @yams046 ; @dope-squish ; @chrisrue15 ; @vermillionwaves ; @demursv1ogs ; @just-snog-already ; @angmarwitch ; @angmarwitch ; @simpingonothers ; @woo-youngs ; @cowward ; @chaelysian ; @sempiternal-amour ; @jungshookmeup ; @jovialnoise ; @karlitabi-rrito ; @iwaizluv ; @sugarandsoft ; @tspice283 ; @ohshirabu ; @syzygymai ; @volleybloop ; @oikaw-ugh ; @pockytokyo ; @differentballooncollection ; @keniloveshaikyuu ; @turquoiselace ; @playboygeniusphilanthropist ; @keijislut ;

@misosamu @Etherynaw @ryaaaax @allysasteaparty @mikaashi @brownie0food @ph10xy @Chocolaterumble [hi, i can’t seem to tag u guys, i think you need to open your tags uwu]

#coward series #haikyuu imagines #haikyu!! fanfics #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu imagine #miya atsumu scenarios #miya atsumu fanfiction #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu imagines #miya atsumu fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyu angst #miya atsumu angst #atsumu x you #atsumu angst

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stuckonstarker · 4 years

Text

only a kiss

Months of brewing feelings bubble up to the surface as Peter and Tony share a kiss on movie night.

Tony didn’t think much of it when he invited Peter over for a movie night. It was a simple break from their respective responsibilities as Spider-Man and Iron Man. He figured they both deserved it; an hour or so of mindless entertainment with each other’s company.

Maybe he should’ve been more privy to it, though. The way the air shifts when they’re together. He might’ve been able to avoid the inevitable for a little longer, then.

Peter has grown into Tony’s equal. No longer is he the nerve-wracked kid being mentored by Tony. No, now he’s an adult with a certain ease to him that wasn’t there merely a year prior.

They both acknowledge this development in a silent agreement.

Tony notices that Peter’s once soft features have sharpened. His jawline is much more defined, his eyes less reserved and more emboldened, and his lips often upturned in a subtle smile that brims with confident mischief.

He has an elegant way about him now as he walks with his head held high and he says things with steadfast conviction.

As Peter changed with the seasons so too did Tony’s opinion of him. From a young boy, shy and anxious, to a man, self-assured and sensible.

The shift in Tony’s opinions was inconsequential at first. Nothing more than a mere whisper, the tiniest spark of something wholly imperceivable at the time.

But, as the whisper got louder and the flame grew, Tony came to realize the pleasant warmth in his chest was something else entirely. Something much darker, much more depraved, than the mentorly affection he had previously mistaken it for.

It seemed harmless enough, though, to briefly indulge in the sensual pleasure Peter provides. Only a quick kiss to the forehead or a hug that goes on a second too long.

Tony continued to fan the flames, unaware of how truly bad his passionate need for Peter was getting. But there was something in Tony, almost primal, that demanded he get closer with Peter. To carve an irreplaceable slot for himself in Peter’s life.

Peter seemed to have no objections to that; for no matter how much Tony wanted to take, Peter was willing to give.

Tony seemed to have found a balance. As he restricted himself just enough to avoid hurting his protege while also having enough connection to satisfy that cruel whisper within him.

It was working quite well for a while.

And then Peter began reciprocating Tony’s subtle affections.

Thus began months of them sharing lingering stares full of longing; quiet giggles and inside jokes they never bothered to include others in; compliments that edge just on the border of inappropriate. Nothing ever explicit, but the implications clear enough.

It was always a fine line, Tony realizes, they were always a step away from disaster. So, he should’ve expected this - he really should’ve - but denial is such an intoxicating drug.

The mood around them both is often infected with their want for one another; poorly concealed and hard to resist. Even with something as simple as a movie night, there’s an unmistakable longing in the air.

So, it truly didn’t take much.

They laughed together. Tony held Peter close; so close you’d think they were trying to merge into one. Peter shifted so he was in Tony’s lap - to which Tony had no complaints - and the laughter continued.

The air of ease allowed them to forget the act. As they laid in one another’s arms the rest of the world began to melt away, allowing for their inhibitions to leave them.

So now, after months of impatient buildup, Peter’s straddling Tony and their faces are mere inches apart. Tony’s hands rest on Peter’s hips as he relishes in the sweetness of their bond. He doesn’t allow his hands to drift, however - a futile, last ditch attempt to convince himself that their relationship is just platonic.

The darkness of the room makes it easy for Tony’s resolve to crack, though, as he feels himself being drawn to Peter. A magnetic force that overtakes both of them. There’s a sensual warmth that floods their minds, washing out any rational thought.

Peter’s nose touches Tony’s.

A brief panicked thought of ‘This isn’t right!’ flashes through Tony’s mind before it’s aborted just as suddenly.

Any logical thought Tony might have is dashed by the alluring nature of Peter’s plush, pink lips that whisper his name so delicately:

“Tony.”

He finds himself swallowing around his nervousness. He quite honestly can’t remember the last time someone made him feel such a way, he must’ve been a teenager; much like Peter is currently, his brain supplies quite unhelpfully.

He asks, “Yes?”

“Will you do me a favor?” Peter asks.

Tony nods.

Peter whispers, “Kiss me. Just once.”

Tony feels his grip on Peter tighten ever so slightly. This desperate yearning inside him screaming to do as Peter says, but still, he has a smidge of morality left. While Peter is technically legal, Tony can’t imagine a world where this relationship would ever be right.

Peter notices this hesitation with a small smile, “It’s only a kiss, Tony, just one. That’s all I ask from you right now.”

They’re so close, Tony realizes suddenly, but he doesn’t make a move to change it. He doesn’t want to. And he’s still a selfish, selfish man, so he allows himself this contact.

His heart lurches, stutters to what feels like a stop, before picking up pace and battering against his ribcage.

All at once, Tony is forced to admit that he wants and he wants badly. And that Peter wants just as badly as well. That there is not a feeling on Earth that could ever compare to being within Peter’s comforting embrace.

“I can’t kiss you,” Tony says, “I… don’t deserve it.”

Peter says, “Oh, but you do.”

The room is dark, illuminated only by the TV playing a long-forgotten movie. It’s silent, save for their breathing. They’re shrouded in an aura of years of pining and want and need. And, maybe at this moment, Peter can convince Tony to take what he wants so desperately.

Tony moves a hand cautiously to Peter’s beautiful curls and it feels like silk to the touch. Peter smiles at the contact, making a noise of contentment.

And then, in a move that’s just as slow as it is swift, Tony guides Peter’s lips toward his and, before those pesky thoughts of right and wrong can object, they are locked in a kiss.

It’s soft and sweet, much like Peter himself. It feels like they’re lips are dancing, they move together in perfect sync and harmony. It’s bliss, Tony must admit, to finally claim the reward he’s been refusing himself for so long. To finally indulge in Peter’s sinfully sweet taste.

The pace is slow as they both take their time basking in the electrifying pleasure that comes with such love. Everything about their movements is gentle, testing the waters and pushing their preconceived boundaries.

Tony’s hands move to Peter’s thighs and Peter holds the sides of Tony’s face as their lips glide together. And, much braver now, Tony tenderly nips Peter’s bottom lip as if asking permission for more. Permission which Peter grants as his lips part like a delicate flower blooming.

Tony’s light-headed from want as his tongue swipes along Peter’s; the action so overwhelmingly intimate that it sends shockwaves through him. Peter moans desperately into the kiss and Tony hums back, acknowledging his sweetheart's want.

They’re clinging to each other, becoming one and whole together. It’s perfect, it’s everything they’ve ever wanted and more. But, like all good things, it must come to an end.

They pull from each other slowly. It’s like time itself has come to a stop as they look into each other's eyes, foreheads touching.

They, shrouded in darkness and overflowing with warmth and want, stare longingly into one another’s eyes for what seems like an eternity. Everything melts away and the only thing that matters now is them and only them.

They’re both panting and overheating.

Peter, out of breath, scoffs a laugh and - before he can stop himself - whispers: “I love you.”

The words are raw with real want and emotion. His body so filled to the brim with joy it needed to be expressed somehow. And what way better than such a pure confession?

The silence that fills the room is deafening, as if even the universe itself is watching with bated breath waiting to see what will happen next.

Everything moves in slow motion as they both come to their separate realizations.

Peter; who’s just realized how much those words weigh, how much he truly means them as well, how his heart - for so long - has ached to be close to Tony, and how he would do anything if it meant he got to spend the rest of his life held in Tony's tight embrace.

He feels like he could fly.

Tony; who realizes how far gone he truly is, how selfish he is, how even when he tries he can’t help but mess everything up, how this was all a mistake from the very start, and how he should’ve never recruited Peter - should’ve never taken such a bright flame in just to snuff it out.

He feels like he could die.

“I think you should go,” his voice strangled as the words are ripped from his throat by force.

In an instant, Peter pulls back - his eyes wide in disbelief.

He hesitates for a moment before asking, “what?” because he surely must’ve heard wrong, because surely Tony didn’t say what Peter fears he said.

Tony sighs, the words even harder to say the second time, but he resolves himself, “You should go, Pete.”

Peter scoffs, for real this time, and says, “You’re kidding me, right?”

He’s straddling Tony’s legs, still dizzy from the kiss and, yet, Tony has the gall to say:

“I’m not, Peter, you need to leave.”

“Why?” Peter asks, keeping his voice steady and hardening his stare. He refuses to be sent away so simply without even an explanation.

Tony huffs in frustration; telling Peter to leave was already so difficult enough and now, like usual, he has to deal with the boy’s stubborn attitude.

Tony's not quite sure what to say to express his dilemma. There are millions of thoughts racing through his head - millions of things he wants to say.

Instead, he settles on, “Because I said so.”

He then goes to remove Peter from his lap; a rapid series of bad decisions he will soon realize as Peter - who’s finally reached his breaking point - uses the tiniest fraction of his super strength to keep Tony’s legs and arms pinned.

“No,” Peter says, jaw clenched, “I’m not leaving until you tell me why.”

A tiny flame of lust flickers within Tony at this predicament, but he stomps it out with his indignation.

Tony says, “Because this isn’t what we are.”

Peter laughs humorlessly, “Well, then, what are we?”

“Coworkers,” Tony says plainly.

Peter says, “Oh, yeah, I forgot coworkers have makeout sessions all the time.”

“It was just a kiss,” Tony says, “it didn’t mean anything.”

He didn’t mean it; regrets it the second the words leave his lips. But he’s said it, released those words into the air and they hang there for a moment. And a much thicker, tenser silence fills the room. They stare at each other as time seems to stretch out endlessly. And, then, something in the air snaps.

Peter releases his hold Tony and he breathes deeply.

“...Is that really how you feel?” He asks quietly.

Tony can feel every ounce of his body screaming ‘No!’ but he can’t keep Peter trapped here. It’s wrong, immoral, and selfish.

He’s caught between his aching for Peter’s soft, loving touch and his need to keep Peter protected. Protected from himself, it seems.

It’s not fair how he has to be the one to send Peter away, Tony thinks, but then again when has anything in his life ever been fair?

So, resigning himself to a desolate fate, he sighs, “Yes, Peter.”

It’s silent, again, for a moment as Peter turns away from Tony’s gaze. Clear as day, the expression of hurt seeps into his beautiful honey eyes. His lips quiver ever so slightly and he nods with the same forlorn acceptance of someone who’s in mourning. And Tony wants nothing more than to wrap Peter up in a comforting hold - to tell him that everything will be alright - but he’s perceptive enough to know that would only hurt Peter more.

“If that's what you want,” Peter says, voice shaking.

All of Peter’s certainty evaporates. He can feel himself crumbling, helpless to do anything about it. He’s not quite sure what to do next except for leave like Tony had said.

So, he removes himself from Tony’s lap robotically; his body moving on its own as if he’s been possessed.

The edges of his vision blur and darken as the world around him begins to fall apart.

He spares one last glance at Tony - who, on the outside, looks quite unbothered by this whole situation while Peter’s quite obviously unraveling at the seams - before getting in the elevator and shakily pressing the button for the main lobby.

The elevator doors close and the sorrowful darkness attacks Peter. He can feel himself drowning in an endless ocean of grief; being pulled around by the tides and completely helpless to do anything about it.

Every part of him is aching, the pain almost choking him, and it fills him until he’s overflowing in the form of tears spilling from his eyes.

He holds himself and sits in a corner of the lift as tears stream down his face.

Anguish builds in Peter’s throat and comes out a broken sob, “Why?”

There’s no answer for him. There never is. Not with his parents’ death nor his uncle’s and he doesn’t see why life would spare him this one either. All this grief always placed on him and - for a moment, brief and fleeting but wonderful nonetheless - he thought he had finally found happiness within the darkness.

He’s so caught in his heartache and can’t bring himself to think about anything besides Tony despite that only hurting him more.

It’s almost comical when the elevator chimes a friendly tune to alert Peter he’s at the main lobby.

When Peter steps off he can feel everyone’s eyes crawling all over him, but he doesn’t care what they think of him.

He speedwalks through the lobby, just wanting to get home as soon as possible. He keeps his eyes firmly focused on the floor. His heart is heavy and weighed down by rejection, but - even if his dignity is long gone at this point - he still tries to calm his crying to no avail. The tears continue to fall with little regard of how he feels about it, which makes him cry harder.

He stumbles his way to his apartment and stops in front of the apartment door. He can hear his breath, shaky from his endless sobbing and from the walk back. He half-heartedly tries to calm himself to no avail.

The first thing his blurry, teary-eyed vision sees when he opens the door is Aunt May sitting on the sofa. She looks at him for only a second before rushing to him and bombarding him with questions.

It’s all in good faith, Peter’s sure, but it just makes him sink even further into his sorrow.

He’s too vacant to truly process any of her questions at the moment, so he just accepts her warm embrace and sobs helplessly into her arms. She pets his hair and coos to him, but it doesn’t help. He’s honestly not sure anything will.

Through the fog of his grief he hears Aunt May say, “This is the second time you’ve come home crying because of that man, Peter, I will go down there myself if I have to.”

“No,” he says, voice wrecked from crying, “no, it’s fine, Aunt May, I’ll handle it.”

Her voice is sharp as she asks, “What needs to be handled?”

Peter hesitates.

The situation is complicated and he struggles to find the right words to properly explain it. Even if he could, May’s done so much for him already and the thought of bothering her with relationship troubles seems useless at best - burdening at worst. And - whether either of them like it or not - Peter’s an adult now which means he has to start handling certain things on his own.

“I just messed something up,” Peter lies, already feeling guilt joining the cocktail of emotions that is his eternal suffering, “it was pretty important, but I’ll fix it later… it’s just been a pretty tough day.”

He sniffles, his tears finally drying out. He rubs the wetness off his face and looks up at her with a smile dampened by sadness.

He forces a reassuring tone as he says, “It’ll be fine.”

May looks at him for a moment, her eyes stern and studying behind her glasses, before sighing, “Okay, but tell me if you need anything.”

Peter nods, “Of course, Aunt May.”

He winces at the sound of his voice which is still cracked and uneven from his crying. But, for the time being at least, May seems convinced that Peter isn’t falling apart which - in his opinion - is a job well done.

Peter slumps off to his room and then flops into his desk chair. He forces himself to breathe deeply to calm his nerves. He’s somewhat able to get his bearings despite still being knee deep in the waters of misery.

His mind’s brimming with questions; all of which are, unsurprisingly, unanswered.

The kiss wasn’t just a kiss. It felt like so much more… or that’s how Peter felt, anyway, and he was almost positive that Tony felt the same way.

For a long while, Peter’s noticed the way Tony’s eyes linger on him; the way Tony watches him with an unreadable stare. And the things that Tony says to him - while always subtle - present very clear implications.

And, sure it took some convincing, but Tony kissed him back and seemed to enjoy it just as much.

Peter struggles for a moment as he considers maybe…

Maybe he has been reading too much into things? Even though that provokes a nigh unbearable ache in his heart it’s really the only thing that makes sense.

Those longing stares, just figments of Peter’s hopeful imagination, those subtle comments just jokes, even the kiss - so meaningful to Peter - just another kiss to Tony.

While it all meant the world to him it was just another day for Tony, he realizes.

He stares at his desk, that’s all he really can bring himself to do. There’s an emptiness in Peter’s heart suddenly and he feels dizzy from it.

Everything’s just falling and falling and - like always - he can’t do anything to stop it. He feels tremors wrack through his body as the overwhelming tides of grief make their unwelcome return.

A sob forces its way through his throat.

It’s like being buried alive, he thinks, alone and helpless; resigned to your grim fate.

He allows himself to cry this time, though, feeling just a little safer in the confines of his room.

He trods over to his bed and plants himself between the covers as his crying continues. He turns and comes face-to-face with an Iron Man Build-a-Bear.

He nearly screams.

He throws the stupid bear out of sight, not really caring where it lands, and pulls the covers close.

He tries so desperately to force himself into a fitful sleep but he can’t. Tony’s laugh, his jokes, his compliments all play on repeat inside of his head. And, try as might, the only image his brain can conjure is Tony’s stern eyes and sweet smile.

Back at Stark Tower, Tony is going through a similar dilemma.

He wants so badly - almost needs - but it’s his job to do right by Peter. And he knows, even if it kills them both, Peter will be better because of this.

Tony tries to keep his resolve, but it continues slipping. He loves Peter so much and now that they’ve been separated Tony feels like he’s dying.

Peter’s an angel. His curls are soft, silky and brown; his eyes are vibrant - shining like pools of liquid gold; his lips pulled into an almost perpetual smile and flushed carnation.

Tony knows he’s let heaven slip through his fingers, but hell is a comfort few understand like he does.

He continues fighting with himself as the voice in his head, once an inconsequential whisper, screams at him to return to Peter’s side. The moral part of him reminds him why he’s done this and why, despite all the pain it’s caused, it’ll be good for him and Peter in the end.

Tony feels a familiar, frightening itch under his skin to grab a bottle of whiskey.

He considers, for a moment, that maybe this is hell. That he might’ve died and this is his torture for his lustful attachment to his ward.

He’s quite uncertain how to move forward now.

He wants nothing more than to embrace Peter, kiss him, love him to the ends of the world and back. It eats away at him and rolls through his body. He starves for Peter’s affection; it makes him feel like an insatiable monster.

But, despite it all, Tony forces himself to ignore it. Ignore the way his heart chases after Peter, ignore the forlorn expression Peter wore when he was sent away. Ignore it all, push it down and suppress it until it disappears.

He gets up from the couch. No use wallowing in sadness, he supposes, as he begins stalking off to the lab.

The elevator door chimes, though, stopping him in his tracks. A bright forest fire of hope ignites in his chest. His secret, guilty desire that Peter will come back and demand more. It shocks him how quick and turns and-

It’s Pepper. The lights flicker on as she steps through the elevator (thanks, FRIDAY).

Tony can feel the disappointment tug at his features and he can’t be bothered trying to hide it.

“A couple people saw Peter walking through the lobby crying his eyes out,” Pepper says.

Pepper has an ice cold stare while her lips are held in a stern, straight line. She stands there; her heels firmly planted on the floor with her arms crossed.

Tony’s heart clenches at the thought of sweet Peter walking through the lobby, tears streaming down his pretty face as he heads home hopelessly.

“Oh,” Tony says. He looks at the spot next to Pepper instead of subjecting himself to her judgemental stare.

Pepper says, “Oh? So, you know something about this?”

Her voice is accusatory right out of the gate. Which is fair, she - although while never saying anything outright - has always seemed to understand there was more to Peter and Tony’s relationship than the surface.

“It’s complicated, Pep,” Tony says.

Pepper says, “Well, uncomplicate it then, Tony.”

“We kissed, he told me he loved me, and that’s not okay so I told him to leave,” Tony says, voice getting meeker as he reaches the end of his sentence, truly realizing how much of an ass he sounds like.

“Why the hell would you do that?” She asks.

She walks toward him, her steps so filled with vitriol that Tony’s genuinely worried she’s going to hit him.

Tony says, “Peter’s a good person. He deserves someone who can give him what he needs and that someone is not me, Pep!”

“Do you love him?” Pepper asks.

Tony pauses.

She sighs, “Do you love him or not, Tony?”

“Of course! Of course I love him! Who wouldn’t?” Tony says, “He’s amazing, brillant, beautiful - I would literally die for him, Pepper, but - no matter how much I love him - us getting together would only hurt him.”

Pepper’s unimpressed expression doesn’t inspire confidence in Tony.

She exhales deeply before saying, “It’s not your job to protect him anymore. He’s an adult now, he’s got his own ambitions and his own life and he can make his own decisions. You don’t get to decide that you’re not good enough for him.”

“That’s… no, Pep, no I… just - he’s so-” Tony rambles on, making random gestures with his hands.

She snaps, “Tony!”

Tony’s mouth shuts and he looks at her.

“Listen to me, very carefully, okay?” She says.

Tony nods.

“Okay,” Pepper continues, “what you are going to do, because you love Peter so much, is you are going to find him and apologize for sending him away and you are going to tell him how you feel.”

Tony shakes his head, “I can’t-”

“You can,” She cuts him off, “and you will, otherwise, Tony, you will lose him and you will spend the rest of your life wallowing in regret of what could’ve been.”

She gives him a brief, supportive smile before the clicking of her heels signal her departure.

Tony sighs and rubs at his face.

Maybe, he thinks, being selfish one more time won’t hurt.

Peter’s hiding under his covers. He’s blocking out the world in a futile attempt to make the pain disappear.

He feels the soothing melody of sleep sing to him. And just as he starts to fall asleep, he hears something tapping at his window.

He jolts up from his bed and looks to the window.

Tony Stark is standing on his fire escape like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

Peter blinks hard. He briefly wonders if he’s lost his mind; that maybe this is a delusion from his desperate mind.

Tony taps on the window and says, muffled by the glass, “We need to talk.”

Peter shuffles over to the window and opens it.

“What the hell are you doing?” Peter asks; a surge of incandescent rage sparking within him only for it to be snuffed out just as quick.

Peter steps back as Tony clambers through the window - basically falling through it.

Peter watches with a tight expression on his face.

He asks, voice much softer this time, “What are you doing, Tony?”

“I-” Tony says, standing then continuing, “I am… uh… well, I’m not sure what I’m doing, to be honest with you. But I’ve been tormented these past few months by my own soul. Peter, whenever I close my eyes you’re what I see and whenever I imagine heaven it’s you with me.”

Peter breathes deeply, “And what does this mean exactly?”

“It means that,” Tony pauses, forcing down his apprehension, “I love you. I love you with all my might and, for so long, I’ve restricted myself to just dreaming, but I can’t anymore. I can’t watch idly and let you slip through my fingers, Peter, and I must admit that I’ve been a selfish ass these past few months. However, if you can find it within yourself to forgive me, I’ll love you unabashedly and I’ll love you purely.”

A sudden rush of joy floods Peter so quickly he feels light-headed from it.

“Do you mean that?” He asks, his voice so soft he wonders if the words even left his lips in the first place.

Tony nods and grabs Peter’s hands in his own. He presses his forehead against Peter’s and they stare into each other’s eyes for a moment.

“I say this with all my conviction, darling,” Tony whispers, voice raw, “you are the only one for me.”

Peter feels a stuttered breath pass his lips. A fiery feeling, that of pure want, burns throughout his body, infecting his mind, soul, and body until there’s hardly anything left.

He smiles, “I forgive you… I don’t think I could ever bring myself not to.”

“So, we’re together then?” Tony asks as he brims with apprehension.

Peter says with a watery smile, “We always have been.”

The world seems to pause for a moment as they look in longing at each other. It’s a sudden uncertainty, they’ve been gifted the most coveted treasure of all. Love. They are both nervous in each other’s arms as they hesitate; in fear that one wrong move will send it all crashing down.

Tony’s eyes trace Peter’s face. His eyes dark, gentle as they admire Peter with such delicate precision Peter swears he can almost feel it.

Tony studies Peter; his eyes of chocolate, his strawberry lips, and porcelain skin with a flush so perfect it looks painted on.

Tony rests his hand on Peter’s jaw and swipes his thumb across the young man’s bottom lip. Peter’s tongue reacts immediately darting out to lick the calloused fingertip.

The action, simple as it is, sparks a bright fire within Tony’s body. An even deeper want filled with sensuality and sex. He can feel the last of his restraint unraveling until nothing remains, but - unlike before - he does not scramble to stop it. In fact, he encourages the last of his hesitations to slip through his fingers.

“I want you,” Tony admits ashamedly.

For he feels such remorse for lusting after someone as near divine as Peter.

Peter only smiles; his lips upturned in a knowing smile and eyes glittering with golden mischief. With his voice soft and soothing, like the summer wind sweet in its brevity, he says:

“Then take me.”

#starker #starker fic #mild angst #max writes

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beau-draws-and-cries · 3 years

Text

Drunk confessions won’t fix what’s broken - Angst raeda fanfic

Summary: Eda and Raine had too much apple blood

Rating: Mature

TWs/CWs: alcohol, sex mention, abortion mention

Tags: angst, raeda, pre-breakup, drunk confession

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33577168

Raine and Eda had drunk too much.

They were tipsy, trying to walk back to Raine’s house, giggling and telling inappropriate jokes and flirting, trying to not be loud as they walked around the streets.

When they got home, Eda immediately got out her heels and the dress so she could finally lay down, while Raine put on a more comfortable outfit (they still weren't confident enough to just sleep with nothing on) and they laid down as well, looking at the ceiling.

"I had so much fun, Raindrop." Eda muttered, hugging them, and kissing them softly on their neck and mandible.

"Yeah, that was nice. I can't believe I actually played in front of that many people!" They rejoiced, taking pride in feeling just half of the usual stage fright.

"You played well."

Both stood silent for some time, Eda tracing a finger on Raine's chest and arms, with closed eyes and breath starting to calm down from the adrenaline rush of being young, drunk and in love.

"Hey, Eda."Raine called after some minutes.

"Yes?"

"I was thinking---- I was thinking about having kids. You never told me anything about it."

"Why the subject?" She said, slightly uncomfortable.

"I don't know--- I just figured out that---- that we never talked about it and if you want kids, it would be good to talk about it before any accidents happen."

"I don't even know if I am capable of getting pregnant." She turned to the other side, suddenly distant. "And even if I could, how would I--- how would someone like me be able to take care of a kid?"

Eda was being a bit honest. That honesty got Raine by surprise because usually Eda would try to dodge any too personal question about the future she wanted for them and distract Raine with another thing. Raine hated to admit that it was making him lose the spark they had towards her. Eda's careless and independent attitude that always seemed so endearing now was turning into a hassle because she would never reach out for help, never be honest, never tell them the truth, and that meant them being distant emotionally, and that was something that Raine really wanted to fix before they would marry Eda (at least they thought they could fix it) or at least to have less of a bad relationship.

No that they didn't love her. They loved her maybe a bit too much, but all of those small details were quickly becoming a bigger problem than they previously thought.

"What do you mean?" Eda didn't answer, instead, she tried to kiss them, bringing them closer, only to get pushed. There was the Eda that avoided questions at all costs, with kisses, with jokes, with fights, with sex, with anything she could pull off at the moment "Eda, I am serious. What do you mean? Please tell me, I am your partner. I would like you to be honest with me about what's bothering you."

Eda looked at them, but was unable to look at their eyes, their sweet green and worried eyes. Raine, always sweet and attentive to what she needed. Maybe they deserved to know the truth, but would they still love her if they knew the truth? Would they ever trust her again if they knew about her hurting her father while on Owl Beast form?

Those doubts were eating her slowly.

"Do you have more Apple Blood?" She asked. If she was going to tell them about that, she might as well numb herself with alcohol.

"It's in the fridge."

Eda stood up and walked to it, getting the bottle and sitting on the bed. She couldn't look at them, and downed half a bottle before starting to speak.

"When I was cursed I-- my dad was heading to the mandible and he fired a firework thing." She stopped, looking at the glass. She downed a bit more "I got triggered by the lights, and I turned to the owl beast and…. And then I hurted him. I hurted him badly in his eye."

"Eda, I never knew that… why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"To what, to you to try to stay away from me?" She scoffed "So leaving me would be easier?" She downed the rest of the bottle, looking at the floor.

"Eda, I am not leaving you! Why every time I ask you to be sincere it always ends up with you telling me I am leaving you?." Raine muttered, trying to get her hand. She pulled it away when she noticed, sitting on the corner of the bed.

"I need to get home." She whispered, getting her clothes on the ground, and ended up losing her balance and getting on all fours.

"Eda, wait!" Raine followed her, trying to help Eda into getting up. She didn't deny the touch this time "Please stay, you're not well enough to walk back home. You just downed an entire bottle of Apple Blood."

"I AM FINE I just need to make the world stop spinning." She snarled, now trying to get away from them, but too dizzy to actually do anything.

"Eda, please stay. You are going to get yourself hurt if you go back home walking." They said, almost crying now. That made Eda's heart break and she sighed.

"Okay, okay. I will stay." She then let Raine put her on the bed and get a cup of water for her. Eda was not looking at their face, still aloof and trying to not say anything else that might put her into another problem with Raine. She accepted the water, forcing it down just to be nice to Raine, who had started to silently cry, huge tears forming and streaming down while they got into the bed. They felt so useless, unable to help their girlfriend, and they knew that any effort to make her open up would lead only to more pain. Silently, they reached the only logical conclusion at the state of mind they were, that was to break up. They promised that before doing that, giving her another chance was better, so they wouldn't feel so bad when they broke the news to her.

It felt so wrong.

Eda, the person they dated since high school, that they lived amazing things with, now….

Now all they could think was about how it would be easier for them to break up.

"Rainstorm?" Eda touched their face, wiping away the tears. They continued to form, Raine was unable to stop crying "What's wrong?" She said softly. She knew that was her fault.

Raine gently took her hand off their face, forcing a smile.

"It's late now, Eda. It's time for you to get some sleep."

"Raine, I-- I am sorry." She muttered, now the guilt was hitting her like a truck.

"It's okay Eda, you don't want to discuss anything related to your curse, or to our relationship, or about anything that goes into your head, I understand." The forced smile vanished and they started to sob, hiding their face, still with glasses on. Eda gently took off their glasses, and offered a hug "Eda, I am really trying! I want to know you, know about your curse so I can avoid triggering it, know about what bothers and what doesn't, and know about what you want in life! But everytime I try to get near you, you push me away, with jokes, or fights, or or kisses or sex, I don't understand!" They were unable to stop sobbing, kneeling beside her side on the bed. "I want you to be the person that marries me and raises kids with me, our kids, I don't--- am I just not good enough?" They muttered.

"I just told you how the dumbest thing triggered me into hurting my dad and you're still thinking about kids with me?" She scoffed, but scoffed her, not them, but it came out wrong, making Raine start to sob harder.

"If you don't want to be with me, just say it! And leave me alone!" Raine ended up yelling, without thinking.

Eda seemed to finally understand what was going through their head, it made her heart drop on her chest and get nauseous.

"Listen, Rainstorm….." she muttered "I don't want kids. I mean. I always wanted kids, since I was like, ten, my dream was to have a big family, you know?" It felt fake to open up, but it made Raine stop sobbing (but not stop crying) so she continued "And then, I got cursed. And every dream I had vanished with it. No more family. No more being accepted. No more people who care about me. After I hurt my dad I decided that…. It was better to be away from people, you know?" The alcohol was doing its part in making her less likely to lie "And you're so sweet. I would hate to hurt you or… Or our little owlets." She muttered the last part "Last pregnancy scare I had I took every potion I could to interrupt it. I felt like shit about that but… But it's safer, you know?" She muttered, feeling tears streaming her cheeks too.

Raine grabbed her hand, squeezing it softly.

"We can't make this work if you aren't honest with me, Eda. I didn't even know about this pregnancy scare."

"I thought that if I didn't tell you, it would be easier to get rid of it." Eda muttered, pulling her knees to her chest and looking away.

Raine was looking at her hand, making circular motions with their thumb, looking at the gold painted nails.

"I think we need to sleep." They muttered, voice shaking from the confessions they just heard. They felt so bad. Everything was hurting.

They got into the bed near Eda, but not cuddling with her. They were to hurt for that. Eda tried to get closer.

"We could do something nice before we sleep." She said, smiling weakly, trying to lighten the mood at least a little bit.

"You're drunk, Eda. It would be better for both of us to go to sleep." They said, turning to the other side so they wouldn't have to look at her face while saying that. Eda's smile disappeared and she sighed, hugging them from behind.

"Yeah, you're right. Good night, Rainstorm."

Raine didn't answer, pretending to be asleep already. The tears reappeared, apparently worse than before, but they would not tell Eda about that. If she was to hide things, they might as well hide them, after all.

#raeda #raine whispers #eda clawthorne #the owl house

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patchofsunlight · 4 years

Note

if ur requests are still open then can i request bakugou having a crush on aizawa's adpoted daughter? idk i just think it'd be funny seeing his reaction to finding out who the readers dad is lol thank you !

YES THIS IS VERY CUTE YES

warnings: unedited, cursing, and I think that’s about it!!! also this is the last request for the 800 followers thing FINALLY thank you everyone that requested ily

despite the fact your dad was one of the teachers, you took the entrance exam to UA like everyone else

he told you you could just try and get in with recommendation but you didn’t want that either

you wanted to get in by yourself, and Aizawa respected that

and did you get in with flying colors

you and Bakugou met at the entrance exam. He couldn’t help but admire how you fought and worked, and, well, maybe you weren’t as much of an extra as everyone else

the fact you had classes with your father was so funny to you

you just went to school, listened to whatever he had decided to teach, came back home, and clowned him for looking like a homeless man the entire lecture

no one but the other teachers and Principal Nezu knew you were Aizawa’s adopted child

it was decided it would be better if that was kept under the wraps. In that way, no one would talk about you only getting in because of your dad or stuff like that

and potential villains wouldn’t target you

it was mostly chill, you had your friends and lived your life

your dad was way more severe on you than on your other students, that’s for sure

he wanted you to be strong and he’d make you strong.

so many extra sparring and training sessions i SWEAR

and Bakugou noticed how much harder than everyone else you worked, maybe even harder than him

and he wouldn’t have it

so he started to train even more, and what was his surprise when he kept encountering you and Aizawa training at crazy hours of the morning

you explained it by saying you asked for extra training because you wanted to be stronger

Bakugou respected that

Aizawa, however, saw this as an opportunity of having more free time, so congrats! Now you have sparring sessions with Bakugou literally every fucking day

to be honest you already had a crush on him before that

he was just. kinda hot

and his voice sounded nice? you didn’t know what you saw in him exactly but there was something!!!!

and your sparring matches just intensified that

he started bringing little tupperwares with breakfast for the two of you

and water bottles

because you always forgot both

and “I’m not fighting you if you have a disadvantage, dumbass. If you’re too weak to try and actually beat me, then it’s not a fair fight, and I don’t want it.”

of course it wasn’t because he actually cares

haha no!!! never!!!

haha

he definitely has a crush on you too and he definitely cares

you start to get closer and you have a bunch of stupid inside jokes and he usually would think those are dumb and useless but he actually loves having stuff only you two understand

you don’t talk a lot out of training but you always say “good morning” to him and sometimes he walks with you back to the dorms

and sometimes he invites you to eat whatever he cooked for dinner by saying “he cooked too much”

no he didn’t

he just didn’t have the guts to ask you to eat with him and admit he actually loves being around you

you start getting up even earlier than you usually do so that you can spend more time with Bakugou before and after training and he adores it

you’re very hesitant to tell him about Aizawa being your adoptive father because what if he thinks you don’t deserve to study at UA? What if he doesn’t wanna be your friend anymore? You’re sure that you have feelings for him by now and you don’t want to lose him

but the fact he doesn’t know such a crucial fact about you is starting to make you feel antsy and guilty

you don’t wanna keep secrets from him, for some reason. You want him to know everything there is to know about you and like you anyway

so you tell him one day before leaving your daily sparring session to take a shower and get ready for class

“Hey, do you think you can come over to my room after class? I wanted to tell you something.”

“Sure. I want to tell you something too.”

Great! Now you’re both nervous

he spends the whole day overthinking

What if you don’t wanna be his friend anymore? What if you don’t like him anymore? What if you catched up on his crush and don’t want anything to do with him? What if you think he’s too rude and mean and got tired of being around him?

he goes to your room after class like you asked and you’re pacing around

“I’m here, dumbass. What do you want?”

now he wants to hit himself in the face. Fuck, why did he say that? He didn’t have to treat you like that he’s such an idiot you obviously don’t want anything to do with him and—

“I just… Wanted to tell you something. Something about me that I want you to know. It’s— it’s okay if you see me differently after I say it and it’s okay if you don’t wanna be my friend anymore but—”

“Don’t be stupid, Y/N. That won’t happen.”

are you going to confess to him???????????????????????????

do you like him back??????????????

oh my GOD you DO

he’s so certain you’re about to tell him you’re in love with him

“I have something to tell you too.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe… Maybe we can say it at the same time, then? To save us from the embarrassment?”

he chuckles and you blush at the sound

“Sure.”

“Okay then… On three, alright? One, two, three—”

“I have feelings for you.”

“Aizawa’s my dad. Wait, what?!”

shit

fuck

oh no

oh hell no

shit!!!! shit!!!! abort mission!!!! ABORT MISSION!!!!!

and at the same time what the FUCK

“Aizawa is your DAD?”

“You have FEELINGS for ME?”

“No, I don’t! What do you mean Aizawa is your dad?”

“He adopted me when I was younger and he’s my dad. That’s why he’s tougher with me and that’s why I started doing the extra training outside school hours with him. Now can we go back to the part where you have feelings for me?”

“I don’t have feelings for you. Did the school board know that when you applied?”

“Yes, but I insisted on taking the entrance exam like everyone else, so it didn’t matter,” you hesitated, momentarily forgetting the fact he just confessed while you tried to tell him about your family life, “you are the first one I’m telling this to. I didn’t want anyone to think I only got in because of him, or that I don’t deserve to be here.”

“Tch,” he rolled his eyes, “of course you deserve to be here, stupid. You work harder than everyone else, sometimes even harder than me. That’s why I have feelings for you.”

“OH! SO YOU DO HAVE FEELINGS FOR ME!”

“NO I DO NOT”

“YES YOU DO”

“NO! DIE!”

“don’t worry, Katsuki. I have feelings for you too.”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! Wait, what?”

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #bnha #nina's 800 event

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justsomefluff · 4 years

Note

OMG I LOVED that reaction you did, and the scenario like thing was really good!! I loved it, thank you!! Can I request another reaction (mini-scenario)? Like ATEEZ confessing to their crush while they (ATEEZ) are drunk? (San said Yeo does aegyo/is cute when drunk I'd like to see this ^^)

This is so cute, I would pay good money to see them tipsy no lie lmao. also this is fluff and crack at the same time so...I hope you like it lmao

Hongjoong:

(^ he’d do this during a drunk confession you cant change my mind ^)

Okay so when he’s drunk I feel like he sees himself as being really composed and cool

but in reality... not so much

and, even if he hadn’t been planning on confessing to you

oh boy, his body starts shaking a lil and you’re low-key like... 911?

like his body is telling him to ABORT MISSION but once his drunk brain has made the decision there's no going back

So, in his mind, this is what he’s saying out loud okay

“Y/n, I just wanted to let you know that I have some serious feelings for you. I know you may not feel the same way, but I just needed to tell you.”

Super awesome, everyone wishes to be that composed right?

Well here’s what he really said:

“Listen here, you cute mother-, no I shouldn’t swear at you, my bad. I’m totally in love with you right? Watchu think bout dat?”

and then he’s quiet, and smiling bc he’s proud of himself and you’re just like um????

like that’s not how you imagined this would go

But you also know that he’s gonna be super embarrassed about this in the morning so you just say

“Let’s talk tomorrow, Joongie?”

and he smiles at the nickname and nods and kinda puts his head down

You honestly cant wait to tell him you feel the same when he’s sober

and make fun of him for getting wasted

Seonghwa:

so Seonghwa, unlike Joong, is actually pretty composed

like at first, he’s wildin’ and everything

but then he just calms down super fast

like so fast you get whiplash

and he just smiles at you and you’re like “...freak”

then he frowns and he’s like “I like to look at pretty things that make me smile”

“You make me smile too, Hwa” :)

then he just grabs you into a hug and starts swaying you guys side to side

like some awkward and forced middle school slow-dance

“What are you doing?”

and he shushes you to preserve the moment but you're like “I want answers”

then he finally leans his head down and his lips are brushing the shell of your ear so softly you barely notice

“I think I love you”

he strikes me as the kind of person who wants to confess but also isn’t ever 100% sure he wants to confirm that he loves you so he throws that “I think” in there to cushion the blow if you reject him

but, luckily for him, you do feel the same

you just turn your head ever so slightly to the side and peck his temple

he smiles and rests his head on your shoulder and squeezes your hips before wrapping his arms around you completely

“I kinda need to hear you say it”

“I think I love you too, Hwa”

Yunho:

okay this big ole baby right

I feel like he’s the kind of drunk who is crazy for a little bit but gets tired really fast

so after like an hour of insanity, his eyes are drooping and you’ve settled on a couch (or seat, wherever your location might be)

and he smooshes his cheek into your thigh and you’re totally aware that he’s gonna fall asleep on you

but you’re cool with that, I mean who wouldn’t be

and after a couple minutes of silence, you think he’s knocked out completely

he suddenly turns his head to look up at you

and you look down at him to ask if he’s okay, or if he needs anything

he just starts laughing and then this IDIOT

pokes your double chin (bc I mean why does he have to look at you from that angle) and goes “How is it that I like you so much, even your double chin is cute?”

part of you is like “omg he likes me” and the other part of you is like “...im gonna slap him. don't talk about my double chin”

so, given your inner turmoil, you're silent for a minute and he starts to pout

“you don’t like my double chin?” and he makes a double chin and grabs your hand to make you poke it

“say you like my double chin too, please”

“Yunho, I like you too... double chin and all” (you had decided that you are not going to slap him after all)

and thats kind of the end of the night bc after that crackhead confession he actually falls asleep

but you are lucky enough that he remembers it all the next morning and it becomes kind of a thing in your relationship to make double chins at each other then say “I love you”

Yeosang:

drunk Yeosang and aegyo here we go

whiny baby voice and big eyes and pouting all the way

like he’s not so much into doing the cutesy actions like finger hearts and stuff

but refers to himself as “Sangie” and talks about himself in third person too

CLINGY

not necessarily cuddly, but always has to be holding your hand or else he’ll cry

calls you pet names like Jagi and my love and stuff

and at first you’re like aw he’s a cute drunk and tease him a little bit

but then he pouts even harder and murmurs “I'm serious”

you’re like O.O

“you mean it? you really like me, Sangie?”

nods his head furiously like you seriously think he’s gonna get a concussion for about .5 seconds

like okay I get it, you mean it, please stop doing that your head is not a maraca

“I like you too”

cue the biggest, goofiest, toothiest grin you’ve ever seen

makes big ole fishy lips at you, and points at them to ask for a kiss

so you just give him a quick peck, bc you don't really want either of you to be drunk for your first real kiss

but that satisfies him for the time being :)

San:

Sannie best boy, I cannot stress that enough

the sweetest lil drunk okay

tries to take care of you even though he’s the drunk one

thirsty? he’s gonna get up and get you a glass of whatever you want even if he spills half of it trying to give it to you

hungry? he’ll get you some if you agree to share

so halfway through a tub of ice cream he decides to lay some truth on you okay

“I like my ice cream like I like you”

and you, of course, having seen that meme, respond with “ugly?” and you cackle at your own joke

but he’s so offended

“apologize to yourself and this ice cream”

“wtf? why?”

“because ice cream is the second most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen after you. apologize”

literally holds the tub of ice cream up to your face, and will literally carve a sad face into the ice cream to make you apologize quicker

and when you apologize he eats the sad face and draws a smile

sentimental cheeseball is all he is in that moment okay

“you really think I’m pretty?”

he looks at you like “...duh”

“I think you’re pretty too, Sannie” and he smiles so big :’)

and both of you know that this would be the start of a really happy relationship aww

Mingi:

I bet Mingi is the cutest drunk okay like if you thought he was a giant puppy before get ready you aint seen nothin yet

and you don't even get a warning before he confesses bc he says it so out of the blue

like his whole plan was to drink some liquid courage iykyk and then he was gonna confess

but he ended up getting a lil more tipsy than originally intended

and he just blurts it out and he’s stuttering and lisping and just struggling to get all the right words out

but you just think it’s super endearing

“Minnie, are you drunk?”

he starts blowing raspberries in the air and starts shaking his head “you think I’m drunk?”

literally hiccuping after every word lmao

like yes, Mingi, I think you're drunk

still blowing incredulous raspberries all over the place

and you blow one on his cheek and he starts giggling like the baby he is

“why you do that”

“bc I like you too, Minnie! also you were starting to spit and I needed you to stop that”

he giggles and nods at you, just happy that you feel the same way

nuzzles his head into your shoulder and plays with your fingers for the rest of the time youre together

Wooyoung:

okay he’s a crackhead already so I don't even think alcohol would be something he’s even offered most of the time lmao

but when he is all hell breaks loose

no subtlety about his confession at all

like he literally screams it at you

he had been paying extra attention to you all night, which you didn't even notice bc you liked him too and never imagined he felt the same

so you’re like he so friendly and clingy when he’s drunk

but five minutes later he’s like “DID YOU KNOW IM IN LOVE WITH YOU”

and you’re so taken aback because

1.) he just screamed in your face

2.) he just screamed that in your face

and then he’s quiet and just staring at you, waiting for a response

you’re so dumbfounded that all you say is “you too”

but thats enough for him

“GOOD THATS AWESOME”

and thats basically the end of the conversation bc he gets easily distracted

you have to remind him the next day that that conversation had even happened actually

and he’s like “oh yeahhhhh”

then you’re able to actually talk about what you both feel and be almost normal for about ten minutes lmao

Jongho:

since he’s on the quieter side compared to the rest of the group, I think this shows even more when he’s been drinking

but it’s almost concerning how quiet he is

like if you had never seen him drunk before you’d probably be really worried

and that’s exactly what happened

you went to check on him to see why he wasn't joining in the fun and he looks at you, a little teary from the alcohol

or maybe he’s just deep in his feels who knows

we’ve all been there amiright

and he’s like “just like you a lot you know that?’

you’re like “I was most certainly unaware of that, sir”

and he apologizes??? like why???

“I like you too, doofus, why are you sorry”

then he smiles and means it for the first time that whole night

he feels like he could crack all of the apples in the world he’s so happy

side-note: he probably could break all them apples fr

so basically you just made him the happiest apple murderer in the world

he’ll break all the apples for you baby

135 notes · View notes

hecohansen31 · 4 years

Text

Not The Right Time

The Story Of How Everything Went On:

Ivar+Reader (Modern! AU).

(Masterlist) (Previous Chapter)

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

This chapter is mostly a filler, because I wasn’t emotionally and physically ready to write what comes next, hence I felt like I still had to give out some infos, mostly about Ivar’s family and Reader’s feelings.

I really hope that you’ll enjoy it, although it isn’t a proper fullfilling chapter!

As always: FEEDBACK IS VERY VERY USEFUL!

Us writers don’t write for you certainly, but we do pubblish stuff for you, hence a simple comment or a reblog with something written might CHANGE a person’s day.

You are never annoying and us writers treasure your comments (they might out heart beat and our fingers write faster).

SUMMARY: New revelations and new act of faiths might get you more confused about your newborn feelings for the father of your child.

WORDS: 9, 4 K

WARNINGS: Pregnancy, Unexpected Pregnancy, Pregnancy at a Young Age, Mention of Abortion (and Being Harsh About it), Heartbreak and General Angst, Abandonement Issues and Being A Single Mom, Mention of Infertility, Talk about Custody Battles and Custody, Fighting and Angst, Use of The Word Cripple.

Ivar had never had much luck with women.

But he had been blessed with a beautiful mother.

Aslaug was someone who would cherish her sons to the end of the world, blessed with four of them.

But they had not been four normal boys, but four constantly fighting men who wouldn’t hesitate a moment to give her an heart attack.

And although many more times it was Hvitserk, the bearer of bad news, this time it had to be him.

And what he might have to tell was worse than Hvitserk that time he had decided to open a bakery with his father’s money.

So, he thought it would have been better to tell her that he had a child, when she was sat down.

“Mom” he called out to her, as she moved around the kitchen checking that dishes were in their proper places and made sure sure that not a single crumb of bread was left in her kitchen.

She had always been a bit of a clean freak, but it had grown worse once they had all moved out of the house, mostly because of the fact that sadly she hadn’t much to do, having been an housewife all her life, although lately she had started to care for her garden.

And her roses looked the absolute prettiest.

He had thought that Eric would have loved playing there.

He might have suggested maybe getting it fixed with a swing or a soccer field for his son and his nephews, he was sure that Ubbe would have backed him up on that, although he was sure that he would have certainly gawked at the mention that Ivar had a child.

A child that wasn’t Freydis’.

A child that was with you, his best friend and high school sweetheart.

Yeah, he was sure that Aslaug would have had a heart attack, upon hearing it.

She had already had one when he had announced his engagement to Freydis.

She had come to him, meanwhile all the others congratulated Freydis and although she hadn’t explicitly told him that she didn’t approve it, she had tried to question him about it.

‘Are you sure, sweetheart?’

‘Because you are both so young’.

‘… and you haven’t been with each other for such a long time’.

‘Mom, you ran away with dad just a few days after you had met him’ he had interrupted her, not fully understanding why his own mother among all the people wouldn’t support his happiness.

‘Yes, that I did’ her face had scrunched up in a grimace ‘… and I have regretted it for the entire time. I just… I just wouldn’t want you the same mistake I did’.

And now he had to tell her that he had a five-year-old child, with another woman.

Well, she certainly would have been surprised.

Once she was sure there weren’t anything outside of its rightful place, she sat down onto the table, inviting him to do the same, as she interlaced her fingers with his, excited to know what her youngest was up to.

They had always been quite attached to the other, and he couldn’t picture his small family without her.

Hence, he had to confess her two things.

“… you remember that I and Freydis have been trying to have a child, right?” he started, thinking that this would be far less a surprise than him admitting that he had put a baby in you.

Aslaug already looked like she knew exactly where this was going.

She had always been far smarter than she let on.

She was the one reason why Ragnar hadn’t died in his thirties.

And why all her sons had reached maturity.

This honestly gave her amazing powers.

And he trusted her judgement.

“Freydis is pregnant, the last lab sample worked”.

Although Aslaugh didn’t look amazingly happy, she still smiled softly, as she brought him in a soft hug, kissing his forehead and congratulating him, glad to have more grandchildren, which had quickly become the joy of her life.

She had already loved Ubbe-but-truly-they-were-Bjorn’s child, and she had been trying to convince her still-single sons to settle down and give her more grandchildren.

(‘I might have already’ had mumbled Hvitserk, with a small smirk, before Aslaug had slapped him on the head and gave him a lesson on condoms).

(Ivar might have needed it, too).

So, even if she didn’t like Freydis, she would have loved her grandchild.

“Is Freydis alright?” she asked, moving with a full-on questioning “… has she already gone to some visits? Do you know the gender?”.

“Mom, she’s barely a few months along!” he tried to calm her down, although he was happy that his mother was so so excited about it.

“Sorry sweetie, but you know when I was pregnant with Ubbe that it’d be a boy” she commented softly “… hasn’t she felt anything? Has she?”.

“… and that isn’t the only news I have for you”.

And now came the hard part.

And Aslaug immediately noticed his uneasiness, and her hands moved away from his, as they gently caressed his face to make him stare at her in the eyes, trying to search them to understand what was going on in his mind.

She had always been extremely good at understanding him before even him himself.

But he honestly was sure that she would have never guessed the other news.

She had seen your relationship with you coming, and she had encouraged him to follow his crush.

Still she had tried to keep herself away from meddling with it, pushing herself in a rather cold attitude with you that had made you many times question yourself.

‘Are you sure that your mother doesn’t hate me’ you had questioned him once, when you had come to his house to hang out.

‘No, she just doesn’t like people’ he had replied, as he had tried to get you to sit on his lap, to calm you down.

‘… now I know where you got that’ you had mumbled, as you had finally allowed him to wrap his arms softly around your waist ‘… but still… I really hope that she doesn’t think badly of me’.

‘You shouldn’t worry of anybody’s opinion…’ he had muttered, as he had lightly shifted your hair to the side to kiss your neck ‘… except mine’.

‘But… I’m worried, about her opinion… I don’t want you to…’.

‘Sweetheart calm down!’ he had mumbled, kissing softly your lips ‘… nobody will make me change my mind’.

Yeah, that hadn’t been exactly true.

And he hated himself for it.

You were right in hating him.

Although lately you had been rather cordial towards each other and he would have dared saying that you were almost friends.

In the end he appreciated that you were nice with him for Eric’s sake.

“… mom I hope… this is something that is new also to me, but… I have a child” Aslaug looked at him confused, almost as if she expected him to either joke or clarify himself “… you remember (Y/N), right?”.

“Such a sweetheart” her smile pushed their tips in a light smirk “… but what does she have to do with all of this?”.

“I have a child with her” all the color was suddenly drained by Aslaug’s face “… we had sex on prom night, and I got her pregnant… and she didn’t tell me about the child till a few weeks ago”.

“Ivar Axel Lothbrock!” she exclaimed loudly, as she jumped up from the chair, which fell off because of the suddenness “… I didn’t think that this would be happening with you!”.

“Mom, calm down” Ivar tried to keep her quiet, not wanting his brothers to know about it, till he had talked it out firstly with his mother “… don’t strain yourself”.

“I thought it might happen with Hvitserk, I mean that boy… is a pest, but… you?!”.

“I know that I disappointed you” this seemed to calm her down, as she turned to face Ivar, who had ducked his down, incased between his shoulder blades, as if it weighted onto them.

“I am… just… surprised” she mumbled “… for how long have you hidden this from me?”.

“Not long, a month max, but… to my defense, I also discovered it recently” Ivar explained, as he felt his mom calming down a bit, as if she realized this situation wouldn’t go away.

So, she’d better accepting it quickly.

“You know that I and (Y/N) didn’t leave each other on the best terms…” because as much as you might have been heartbroken by him, he had been ten times grumpier than usually at your refusal of being contacted by him, after the ‘break-up’.

Now that he had calmed down, he thought that you had just done the best thing you could have done to protect yourself.

You were still doing it, whenever you’d retract from him, once the conversation between you two got too personal.

“… she hid the pregnancy because she was sure that I didn’t want to be a father, and… she has then moved away”.

“Yeah yeah, I remember, I was honestly surprised that they’d be moving, but I guess she just needed a bit of time and to get away” mused Aslaug, almost as if she knew herself “… does the baby…?”:

“Yeah, he was born with osteogenesis” he explained, his mother’s face softening, as she lightly retreated from him, almost hurt by it, and he thought honestly the worst of everything.

“… poor boy” she mumbled “… and poor (Y/N), things like this aren’t easy, even more when you are a single mother”.

And Ivar understood that she spoke from experience.

And that was what was making her so emotional.

It was like going through it again.

“She is very strong and she has taken care of him amazingly” he explained softly, trying to calm his mother, as Aslaug moved again closer, her eyes slightly shiny “… he is five… we are trying to set up this thing to be able to give him both a father and a mother”.

“Do you have a picture?” Aslaug’s voice was choked, and Ivar hurried to get his phone out “… I really would like to see my grandchild”.

He didn’t want to break her heart correcting her that he wasn’t sure you’d be approving of her calling Eric ‘her grandchild’ when you already had difficulties in accepting that Eric called him ‘dad’ now.

But for the moment, he had already had a rather traumatic discourse with his mother.

So, he got his phone out and showed him a few pictures of Eric he had taken from the last time they had hanged out together, at a park, where Eric had tried out a few goalkeeper’s moves with his dad, under your watchful gaze, although you had given the two boys a bit of alone time, going to grab a few things in the nearby stores.

In the photo Eric was standing on the bench, adjusting his braces, as he waved at Ivar.

And they also had one that you had taken of them together, after Eric pleaded you so that he could show ‘how cool his dad was’ to all his friends, something that had made you grimace a bit, but he had teared up a bit.

And so, did Aslaug as she saw it.

“… Gosh, he looks so adorable!” she commented, as she brought an hand to her mouth in surprise, a bit smile still appearing on it “… he seems a lot like you, when you were younger”.

“I do agree, but not the entire personality… you won’t believe it, but… he is all smiles and sweet words” he mumbled as Aslaug laughed lightly, looking at her son, before a bright light shone on her face.

And Ivar got worried.

“You should invite her for Thanksgiving” it wasn’t a proposal, it was an order “… she was always such a nice girl, well-mannered and sweet… I was surprised when she distanced herself…”.

“… mom, calm down” he told her “… we might have child together, but that doesn’t mean that we are together and that she’ll want to meet you”.

Honestly, his mother had been more excited about (Y/N) than Freydis.

And it was worrying that he too honestly had been also excited at the thought of you and Eric spending Thanksgiving with his family.

Like a true family.

Aslaug looked like a child who had been denied candies.

“Sweetie…” she softened her tone “… I understand the situation, but I’d like to meet my grandchild, obviously with her consent”.

He thought that asking you, wouldn’t have been certainly a bad idea.

Although he was already seeing your denial.

But worst of all: what would have Freydis thought about it?

Although she hadn’t made a huge deal anymore about Eric and you, preferring to just sweep the entire thing under the carpet, and focusing on her own pregnancy, she certainly wouldn’t have been too happy of this.

Even more when she had also been able to sense that Aslaug didn’t like her in the slightest.

But unlike you, she hadn’t bothered trying to impress Aslaug in the slightest.

She certainly respected her, but that was the end of it for her.

She had had Ivar in the end.

“… I’ll ask her, still don’t get your hopes too high” he tried to shut her expectations down, but Aslaug honestly looked like she had been given her Christmas’ gift before time.

“Ahhh, I already can’t believe that my youngest gave me a grandchild first” she commented, already too lost in her thoughts with a beautiful smile on her face “… can’t believe that he is also a sweetheart, don’t you have more photos with him?”.

And he let her watch a few more, before he caught somebody on the entrance of the kitchen, realizing that it was Sigurd, who sent him a rather dark look, as if saying ‘I want to talk with you’.

He left his mother, with the promise of telling her more about Eric, as he moved to join his brother for what he thought would be another sparring of wits, but Sigurd looked much more determined than usual.

“You got her pregnant?” he asked, and before Ivar knew it, his brother had quickly backed him up into a wall “… as if it wasn’t enough already breaking her heart”.

“You have no business in this, brother” he tried to advise him, molding his tone to be the coldest “… believe me”.

“No, I fucking have a lot of business in this…” he spoke, overcoming his voice, definitely bothered by all of this “… she used to be my best friend, and she fucking left the city, because you ruined her life!”.

“I didn’t ruin her life” he replied harshly, trying to push Sigurd away from him.

“Oh yeah… have you any idea how heartbroken she must have been for the fucking heartless joke you played on her, years ago? And think all of this multiplied because she got a baby from you, and baby that she took care on her own”.

Sigurd wasn’t wrong.

But if there was one thing that Ivar couldn’t stand in the slightest, was being put in front of his mistakes.

And being blamed so outwardly for it didn’t help you in the slightest.

“… it isn’t my fault that she didn’t tell me” he tried to reply, but it wasn’t of much help.

“I don’t blame her for that” Sigurd sneered at him “… I wouldn’t also to have a fucking screw up like you around my child”.

Ivar lurched for him, but he wasn’t able to do much, instead stumbling onto and almost falling in his face, barely able to see his brother running away from him.

But his words echoed in his head.

Because in the end…

… he wasn’t wrong.

---

You tried to adapt yourself to the thought of having to spend an entire day without Eric.

Which was something that you hadn’t had since you had become a mother.

And honestly, it scared you to death.

You had never been too far away from your child, at least not for an entire day, because no matter how tired you were, you’d stop at Eric’s room to kiss him and check on him.

And now you’d have to give him over for an entire day to Ivar.

You honestly didn’t want to do such thing, in the slightest.

He had suggested it, after it had been quite some time that he and Eric met and spent time, together.

Enough to convince you that he’d stay in Eric’s life.

And yours.

But yet, your irrational fears as a mother didn’t ease your mind and you felt horridly hollow at the sole thought of having to say goodbye to Eric, who was getting his backpack ready for the following day.

He had been so excited to spend the whole day and night with his dad that he had been counting down the days, constantly talking about what they’d do and how much ice cream he’d eat.

And you had had to send Ivar various texts on not letting Eric guilt-trip him into letting him eat what he wanted.

‘He’s very very cute, but you don’t have to give in to him’ and then you had followed up with ‘… you can do it, I have survived five years of this and so can you’.

You were also a bit worried for Freydis, mostly because as much as Ivar trusted her, she was a stranger to you.

A stranger whose life you were ‘sabotaging’.

So. you were honestly worried about her being the typical ‘evil stepmother’ although Ivar had reassured you that she didn’t mind Eric.

But you knew how women worked.

They said they ‘didn’t mind it’ and then they were storms.

And you didn’t want your son to be caught in the eye of the cyclone.

You had called her the previous day to check in with her, although you had been scared shitless of approaching her, not wanting to seem either demanding or a homewrecker.

She had sounded extremely calm on the phone, but she hadn’t seemed to mind it all too much truly, although she had been sharply gentle with you, impatient to close the conversation but she hadn’t certainly closed the phone in your face, which meant that she wanted to keep a conversation between you, two.

For which you were grateful.

But you were giving her your most treasured possession, your son.

And you hoped she would treat him the best.

And part of you was jealous of how fast your son had latched on Ivar.

Although you shouldn’t have been surprised.

He was his father, after all.

Even though you weren’t sure that being this close to Ivar was helpful or a good thing, in general.

Old emotions had been awakened since Ivar had come back in your life.

You knew that you shouldn’t have felt so so ashamed of the flames of your previous relationship still burning in your chest, but it was so strong that you weren’t able to shake it off, even more when Ivar was such a good father for Eric.

You were trying to shift your emotion behind that reason, but you knew that your old attraction was burning up again and you didn’t want for it brew more inside of your mind.

Although there weren’t many solutions.

Except pushing yourself in work and trying to breath new air.

Which was why you were also low key thankful of having been allowed a bit of free air from Eric, grateful that you’d be able to spend the afternoon with Sigurd, who had been asking you for a few days for a private meeting between you two.

‘It’s been too long since we last see each other, and now that we are in the same city, it’d be a shame for us to waste more space apart’.

And then Angelika had been already ordering a private booth in a small club, to pass the night as true single moms.

And although you didn’t want any quick hook-up, meeting new people might do you good.

At least to break the spell that Ivar had set on you.

Again.

You tried to ease the anxiety in your chest, as you finished folding Eric’s clothes, going to check out on him as you found him trying to push a few of his favorite toys in the already too big backpack.

“Are you sure that you’ll need all these toys?” you asked softly, with a small smirk, brightened by seeing that Eric hadn’t changed yet.

Change scared mothers, because it was a sign of growing up and your sunshine-beauty of a child, would soon be a grumpy teenager and even sooner, he’d be a man leaving your house.

And as much as you understood that it was normal and healthy, you’d miss your sweet boy.

“Yeah! Of course! I want to show dad all the cool stuff I have!” he muttered as if it was the most natural thing ever with Ivar’s determination shining in his eyes.

“Ahhh I don’t think that you’d need still to bring to dad your Avengers’ tower” you mumbled softly, fishing out the huge toy that didn’t allow his backpack to close, making him pout at you “… or maybe we could stuff it in another backpack?”.

“Yeah, I think that is the best option” he replied softly, with a thoughtful expression that made you push a few strands away from his face, as you raised lightly his chin to look at him in the eyes.

“You know that I love you more than everything in the universe?” you asked softly, crooking an eyebrow at him, who immediately moved to hug tightly your middle, as he smashed his face roughly on your stomach.

But you needed that contact.

And you were already on the verge of your tears.

“… you are my mom, of course I love you!” he mumbled, his voice lightly muffled by your clothes.

You wanted to tell him that you weren’t sure that he’d think that when he was some angsty teenager, but for now you beamed in your child’s sweetness, hoping that it’d stick with you for quite a bit.

At least it did brighten your day.

You moved to separate the toys that you would have to put in the new backpack, as you tried to remind him what he had to do when he arrived home.

‘Don’t forget to give Freydis the gift’ you reminded him, as you made sure that he had taken it, finding the small picture frame you had gotten her, as a peace offer ‘… and if you don’t feel comfortable, all you have to do is ask your dad to call me, ok?’.

‘Okie dokie, mom’ he muttered with a fake-annoyed tone, which made you smirk lightly at him, as you rushed to him to tickle him.

‘Did you just roll your eyes to me, young boy’ you teased him, as he tried to escape your grip, but you were stronger and eventually he just gave up, begging for forgiveness as you erupted in laughter.

‘… mom…’ he called out to you, as you both laid out on the bed ‘… I’ll miss you’.

You had to breathe deeply to stop yourself from crying, but eventually as you spoke up, your voice was still choked.

‘… I’ll miss you too, lovely’.

And then you rushed to finish getting ready, rushing to your car, as you helped Eric in the braces, making sure to have his pain medicine, a small note attached to it, although you had no doubt that Ivar was familiar with at least half of it.

You knew that he wouldn’t put Eric in harm’s way.

But still… mommy’s instincts were tough to fight.

As you arrived at Ivar’s apartment, you weren’t able to stop yourself from starting to panic internally, something that Eric probably felt, gripping your hand tighter to comfort you, something for which you were grateful.

You moved to the proper apartment, taking in the beautiful design of the house, much more expensive that the shithole you lived in, and much bigger, something that made you question as always if you had been stupid in denying Eric the life that Ivar could have offered him.

You were brought back by this as the door of the apartment opened to reveal a pretty blonde woman, dressed in a rather elegant assemble that complimented her lean body, matching her natural color.

You were honestly feeling a potato in your comfortable jeans and the hoodie of your high school.

“You must be (Y/N)” you nodded, almost as if it had been an order, although the blonde woman had been extremely gentle, a soft smile on her lips as she looked at Eric, who had moved behind you, trying to hide himself, a bit shy “… and you must be Eric, Ivar has told me a lot about you! Please enter”.

“Ahh thank you!” you mumbled softly, indeed coming inside, as you led Eric with you, trying to coo him out of his shyness bubble “… and please excuse Eric… he is a sweetheart, but a shy one”.

“Totally got that from his father” replied gently Freydis, no sign of the woman that had considered Eric’s baggage in sight, but you still didn’t feel comfortable talking with her alone.

“Is Ivar… out?” you didn’t want to sound annoying or demanding, but you wouldn’t have left Eric with her, because although she seemed the gentlest sweetheart, you didn’t know her fully.

Not as you did with Ivar.

“He is in his study, got a call at the very last minute” she explained, with a light huff “… always at his phone… that man”.

“He isn’t one for much fun” you joined in, remembering that about him also in high school “… all business and no pleasure… if I remember, right?”.

“That’s my fiancé” Freydis giggled and although she hadn’t meant anything harsher in her tone, her words were definitely sharp and cutting.

Telling you that Ivar was her fiancé although he might be Eric’s dad.

“… don’t worry, it won’t take too much” she then added, looking also at Eric, who had finally exited his shell and was looking at her with questioning eyes, wanting to definitely meet his dad and play games “… in the meanwhile, please do sit! And can I get you a drink?”.

“Ahem… no, I am actually meeting with a friend, for a coffee, but thank you”.

Polite and curtsy small talk, meaning nothing, because you couldn’t help but feel that, although Freydis wasn’t being actively mean with you, you were walking on a mined camp.

But Eric took in the offer of sitting, mostly because he wasn’t used to standing up too long after he had been sat in the car, plumping down on a chair with such noise that you couldn’t help but send him a reprimanding look, worried of what Freydis might think of that, but she was on the kitchen counter, pouring a bit of water for herself.

There weren’t much traces of her pregnancy, but a slight roundness on her, with her looking like the portrait of the ‘perfect and radiant pregnant woman’, whereas your pregnancy had been quite tough on you.

And as much as you were a bit jealous of her, you couldn’t help but be glad that she was having a nice pregnancy, because you knew how much of a mental and physical toll it could be.

Although it was absolutely worth in the end.

“… congratulations, by the way! I hope you won’t mind me saying it, but Ivar told me the great news” she wasn’t able to hide the surprise in his eyes, and you softened a bit more your tone “… the first three months are the rougher, believe me”.

And then you got used to feeling like a beached whale.

“… I really hope, I haven’t been sleeping a morning without…” and then she shot a slight look at Eric.

“I can’t truly believe it! You look stunning!” you tried to reassure her, avoiding thinking about the strangeness of this entire thing “… believe me when I was pregnant with this little monster, he wouldn’t let me do much more than to stand on the sofa”.

She laughed softly, and you couldn’t help but see why Ivar had fallen in love with her: she was a nice soft breeze of air, and he honestly deserved it, after everything that had gone through his life.

“… mom!” complained Eric, sending you an embarrassed look, as you and Freydis laughed softly.

And then he remembered about the gift, quickly getting it out of his backpack as he moved to reach Freydis halfway, who crouched down to the boy’s height and thanked him when she received the wrapped gift.

She unwrapped it quickly, as you held your breath, hoping she’d like it and wouldn’t treat your boy as her own Cinderella once you were out of the door.

She was extremely surprised by it, and seemed to quite like it, kissing Eric’s cheek to thank him, as he blushed redder, something that immediately reminded you of Ivar.

Who, almost as if he had been summoned, entered the room, in that moment.

Eric’s eyes immediately brightened as he rushed to him, making Ivar smirk as he brought him up in a swirling hug, which made you and Freydis screech in horror, both worried for your boys.

But then Ivar settled him down, smacking a sound kiss on his face as Eric washed it off, acting as ‘a true man’.

You’d have to have a talk with Eric about toxic masculinity.

“… hey champ!” Ivar mused, before he saluted you softly, shooting a small look at Freydis to check in with her, and she smiled stretching the smile on her face, as she tried to busy herself to move away, leaving you a bit of privacy “… sorry for being late, I had an urgent phone call”.

“Don’t worry” you shut him off slightly, because today you’d be trying to extinguish the small flames he had left in your heart “… I have left a change in his backpack, but if you need anything, my mom is at home and if you have any questions, you have my phone number…”.

“Gotcha, (Y/N)” he mumbled with a wicked look in his eyes.

“I am not being overbearing” you replied tightly, as he simply sent you a sarcastic look “… try having a child and then we’ll see, and I really hope it won’t turn in a girl or you won’t ever let her date”.

“Of course, I won’t… I know how horrible boys can be” and you couldn’t help but realize that he was talking about himself “… but in the meanwhile, get some fun, mother hen”.

“Please don’t lose my child” you teased him and he simply sent you an annoyed look, before it softened up once Eric asked him whether he could have ice cream, and Ivar agreed, ignoring blatantly your suggestion “… I’ll think about you as I sleep peacefully, meanwhile you are cursed with a little sugar-high demon”.

“Your mom just has the best humor, doesn’t she?” retorted Ivar as he and Eric shared a conspiratorial look, and you could just pout softly at them both.

“Ok, now I’ll go, and I’ll leave you to your male bonding” you gently mocked them “… have a nice time and you got my number”.

“Don’t worry, just have a relaxing day” he mumbled softly with a small look “… and if you have a quiet moment, tomorrow when you come and pick him up we could grab a coffee, I have a thing to ask you”.

Which spurred on your anxiety, but you nodded, giving one last kiss at Eric, who wiped it away trying to appear all tough again, but his eyes didn’t leave you till the door closed behind you.

The sound was so shocking that it hit you.

You wouldn’t have your son for an entire day, and it was already crushing your soul.

In the end you ran away, trying to think that you’d see him tomorrow.

And that right now you had a friend to meet.

And you hoped that’d make you feel better.

---

And how wrong were you.

Sigurd had arrived lightly late and from the start you had been able to catch the fact that he was nervous, but you had thought he was simply scared of meeting a friend he hadn’t seen in quite a bit of time.

And then you realized that he was actually irritated.

And after the usual ‘hey how are you’ ‘long time no see’, he had gotten down to business.

“Why didn’t you tell me that Ivar and you had a child?”.

And you were taken aback, wondering how he had discovered it.

Ivar hadn’t told you anything, about having told his family about Eric.

You had both agreed upon not telling his brothers, although he had told you that he had wanted to communicate it to his mother, alongside Freydis’ pregnancy.

‘If she gets an heartattack don’t blame it on me’ you had muttered it when he had explained you his decision, and he had simply smirked back.

“… Sigurd… we weren’t on talking terms” you explained softly, because it was the truth.

Not only, since you had discovered of the pregnancy, you had distanced yourself from the Lothbrock family, but you were sure that if you had told anything to Sigurd he wouldn’t have been able to keep his mouth shut.

And you hadn’t wanted Ivar to know about your pregnancy, back then.

Sigurd had been one of your best friends back then, but he hadn’t also reached out to you when you had started distancing yourself after Ivar had broken your heart, so it wasn’t completely your fault and you told him to intimating him to lower his voice.

“… I came here to have a nice coffee with a friend who I haven’t seen in a lot of time” you explained, your voice grounding him back to reality “… not to be insulted for choices that he had no business in”.

That seemed to get to him, and he apologized with a dark look of sadness on his face.

Although he and Ivar were at each other’s throat 24/7, they were so so damnably similar that you understood completely why they constantly fought against each other.

They had both this pendant to assume the worst about others.

“… I am sorry, I just…” he looked at his hands to shift his gaze away from you “… I am shocked, I didn’t expect… that to happen… I mean… it’s Ivar… he has…”.

“Believe me, Sigurd, it worked, at least once” you commented, knowing where he was going at “… I have a lot of proof of it, if you are asking for confirmation”.

“No no, I know that, don’t worry” mumbled glowing red Sigurd “… it is just that… I mean… I just can’t believe that he got lucky enough to have a son with you and that… and that you chose not to let him know”.

“Sigurd, he told me that he didn’t love me, anymore” you explained to him “… that child was mine, and not his”.

“Then why are you allowing him to see Eric?” he inquired, with a raised brow.

“… because he is his father, as much as Ivar broke my heart” you explained and although at first you had found it difficult to say it, now it was as natural as breathing “… I don’t think that I need Ivar to raise Eric, but… I can’t hide him for ever, and Eric deserves to know”.

Sigurd nodded, as he seemed to think about it, before he finally let out a breath.

“I just… I just hoped he hadn’t chosen to break your heart” he mumbled, and you couldn’t help but agree “… like it’d have been nice to have you in our family and not that gold digger”.

“Sigurd!” you reprimanded him, immediately, with a rather harsh look at him.

“Oh c’mon! They have been together for a few months and she was like ‘let’s get married’ and then ‘let’s have a child’ “ mumbled annoyedly Sigurd.

“… or maybe she simply loves him” you commented, as Sigurd sent you a disbelieving look.

“… or she loves his money” he corrected you.

“Are you saying this because it is the truth? Or because you are jealous of Ivar?” you joked softly, kicking him under the table “… because if he is happy, you shouldn’t be this grumpy”.

“Are you seriously happy that he is moving on and making a family with somebody else?”.

The question stole your hair from your lungs, but you tried not to show it to him.

“… yes, of course, Sigurd!” you mumbled, trying to hype up your energy “… we were high school sweethearts, but an entire life has passed since then, I do understand that he has moved on. And I have, too”.

Except you hadn’t.

But you had to.

“I still think that he is a fucking idiot for leaving you” grumped out Sigurd, as he lowered his eyes, but some semblance of peace was regained, as you finally managed to shift the discourse away from Ivar’s stupidity.

Sigurd wanted to see Eric and you were more than happy to show him through photos, as he informed you that his mother did indeed know of Eric and was excited about the news and you couldn’t help but find it difficult to picture Mrs. Lothbrock excited.

She had always had this haughty air about her that made you feel at extreme unease with her, even more when you had started sneaking around with Ivar and each time she caught you in the house, she’d look at you with this stare ‘I know how badly you corrupted my son’.

You hadn’t thought that she’d have been ecstatic of knowing that you and Ivar had been irresponsible enough to have a child, but according to Sigurd, she wanted to meet her ‘grandchildren’.

Which brought literal chills to move down your spine.

You appreciated that she wanted to be involved, but at the same time… it was just too much.

And you had been glad when Sigurd had shifted the theme of the conversation onto himself, and you were all too happy to be distracted by his horrifying music career, as you teased him for it.

But this coffee left a bad taste in your mouth.

Because suddenly Eric wasn’t anymore your secret.

And as much as you were glad for more people around you…

… it also meant they might leave you.

And you’d be heartbroken again.

But it’d be worse now, because they’d also leave Eric heartbroken.

---

In the end Ivar found out that you were right: Eric was a monster after having eaten ice cream as an afternoon snack and after dinner, but Ivar honestly knew that he couldn’t deny his child much.

At least to make up for the lost time.

They had played all afternoon, after he had threatened Heahmund to tell him to avoid bothering him with anything work-related for the rest of the day, since he wanted to play with his son.

And played they did, going even outside in the small apartment’s private garden to try out some soccer moves, as Freydis got everything ready, pointedly avoiding to look at them, together.

What she didn’t say, except with her eyes was ‘… I don’t have a problem with your bastard, but I don’t want to be part of this… at least for now’.

But he had been rather thankful for your gentleness with Freydis and for the respect he had felt between you two.

He hadn’t honestly expected for it to go this well, so he wasn’t certainly going to complain.

Although he was tired, wanting to straight up go to bed, after he had managed to make Eric fall asleep, he still did his best to adjust the mess of toys in the sitting room, before he joined Freydis in their bed.

She was finishing up getting ready, dosing her body with her usual lotions, a soft smile filling the room in a rather pleasing matter, immediately relaxing him as he moved to the bed, keeping his keen eyes on her.

She was slender, maybe a bit more than you could ever be, and graceful enough that nothing in her seemed out of place, and she was damnably beautiful.

But strangely, she had no effect on him.

Although he had noticed her for her beauty when she had accidentally smashed a cup of coffee on him, as she was rushing to her first day of work, he couldn’t get further than that.

She was beautiful, sweet and gentle.

But at the same time there was almost a block between him and her.

And he hoped that the marriage and the baby might help him developing this relationship further, because right now he felt stuck.

And he knew that Freydis was feeling it too.

Even more since you and Eric had appeared again.

He could see it in the way she felt threatened by your appearance.

He sometimes wished that his stupid prick would just work, so that he could give Freydis a part of him properly.

But sadly, he couldn’t.

And Freydis’ badly hidden sadness didn’t help, as she set beside him in bed, comfortably.

“Did you have fun?” she asked softly, as she turned to him, meanwhile he plugged in his phone and set up the alarm for the following day, pretty late since it was Saturday.

“Yes, I did” he mumbled, as he unbuckled his braces, having helped Eric through his, before he got him to swallow his medicine “… it was tiring but satisfying”.

“It’ll be definitely useful for the future” commented gingerly Freydis, as she moved to grab one of his hands, and pushed it onto her barely rounded stomach, as she smiled up to him “… you seemed a pretty amazing dad with Eric”.

“Ahh I am just trying my best” he commented, as he moved to face her, finally slipping under the covers, as he switched off the main lights, keeping on only the lamp on the bedside table “… he is a sweet boy”.

“That he is” she replied, although he could see that Freydis’ face was a bit shadowed “… (Y/N) did an amazing thing… and all on her own!”.

He didn’t know why but Freydis’ words hit him profoundly, stroking a rage on his chest, because he couldn’t help but feel like they had a double-meaning.

As if they weren’t exactly truthful.

But he tried to ignore it.

Freydis had honestly every right to be angry at him for what had happened with you, and he’d tolerate it, because he had done wrong in not telling her and in keeping things from her.

But he wouldn’t regret you or Eric.

He certainly wouldn’t have, when speaking with Freydis seemed so insidious.

He remembered the soft exchange of words before you had left Eric to him, the easiness with which he was starting to speak with you again, as you smiled softly, taking care of your child as if it was the most brilliant thing ever.

Not that you didn’t have awkward moments.

But talking with you had always been as easy as breathing with him.

And he had thought that he would have felt the same with Freydis this, but slowly… he just…

He again hoped that the child and the wedding would change everything, because he was so damnably in love with Freydis: she was the woman of his dreams and the woman he had always wanted.

But at the same time, he couldn’t deny that some parts of him still loved you.

And that wasn’t something that was ever going to change now that you were with him.

And this might be quite troublesome.

He brought Freydis closer to him, softly shushing her and wishing her ‘goodnight’, as he switched off the lamp on the bedside table and tried to rest his mind.

But sadly, there wasn’t any rest for the wicked.

---

The following morning you came to pick up Eric.

You didn’t look exactly ‘awake’, but from the look on your face and the huge sunglasses you were wearing, Ivar assumed that you had probably partied a bit last night.

And some part of him, which he quickly shoved down, couldn’t help but be… jealous and possessive of you, although he laid no claim to you.

You were a free woman, who was more than allowed to do what you wanted.

And he had a fiancé.

And a child on the way.

And yet he asked himself whether you had been hanging out with a simple friend or you had brought somebody home.

He justified as simple worry for Eric and his wellbeing.

He didn’t want him to grow among unknown men crashing on your couch.

As Freydis saw you, she immediately offered you coffee again, being shut down by a soft ‘no’, as Eric immediately appeared in the kitchen in his superhero pajama, shooting himself in your arms, as you giggled a bit startled.

“Hey, little captain America, I was gone just for a day” but with the way your lips crooked up he knew that you were happy that he had missed you “… but I am glad to see you too”.

And then you shot up a quick look at Freydis and Ivar, who were sat down on the kitchen table readying everything for breakfast.

“… I hope he wasn’t too much to handle” you apologized softly as he gently asked to be picked up, which you did as if it was the most normal thing.

“He was a complete sweetheart” answered Freydis for both, because Ivar was completely taken aback by the motherly charm you were exuding, interrupted by Freydis’ loving hands settling on his “… wasn’t he?”.

“He was” added Ivar, as he insisted for you to join them for breakfast, since Eric had woken up late, alongside his parents, so it’d take him a bit for getting ready “… and you really look like you could use a cup of coffee”.

“… maybe” you agreed, eventually letting go of your monkey who set himself on the table, meanwhile Freydis collected another chair for you, as she asked to Eric what he preferred to eat for breakfast.

“… and you aren’t allowed to say ice cream” reprimanded him softly Ivar, immediately getting a pout from his child, showing him that a bit of ‘his most annoying’ genes had been passed down to the boy, alongside his pretty eyes “… but we have the corn flakes you like, don’t we Freydis?”.

The woman immediately nodded, as she passed you the chair, for which you thanked her, asking if you could help her with something, as she asked if you could help her with coffee, already getting a few mugs out.

The breakfast was calm, although an awkward silence filled the air, meanwhile you spoke softly with Eric, checking if he had taken his medicine and if his legs had hurt the previous night, as he excitedly told you about how he had taught Ivar new soccer moves.

“Oh it is good that you are making him do some exercise” you mumbled jokingly, as you turned to Ivar “… or he wouldn’t get enough nonr, he used to avoid PE as if it was the plague”.

“That was low” replied Ivar darkly, but his eyes sparkled with amusement, as he felt Freydis scrunching up her eyebrows, unaware of this, as Eric just asked if he could also ‘skip PE’.

“… and it backfired” you commented as you proceeded to explain to Eric the importance of PE, as Freydis kept on throwing daggers at Ivar, with her eyes, which he ignored, till you eventually had to leave, offering to help Eric pack up.

“Is there anything else that you haven’t told me?” asked Freydis, as she linked one of her arms with his.

“I don’t think, sweetheart” he tried to escape this awkward conversation “… we used to be best friends, so it is pretty normal that she knows those things about me”.

“Well yeah, that’s what best friends are there for, isn’t it?” she asked what looked like a trap question and he simply nodded, immediately taking the chance to accompany you to the car.

Where another harsh conversation was to be held.

You set up Eric on the back of the car, helping him to get out of his braces and his seat, as Ivar held the door for you, eventually managing to face you as you checked a bit more on how Eric had felt and if he had created any trouble.

“.. and I have to ask you another favor”,

“Is this about coming to Thanksgiving to your mother?” you surprised him, and he had to take a few minutes before he replied to you.

“… ahem… how do you…?”.

“Sigurd…” you explained, as he immediately was annoyed “… I met him for a coffee, yesterday…”.

“You met with Sigurd?” he asked you, extremely confused.

And he had to admit it, slightly annoyed.

“He was my friend, before we were even friends!” you retorted, catching his tone, almost as if you were justifying yourself “… and my answer is that I’ll think about it”.

“My mom is just… excited about having a grandchild” he mumbled, almost as if he was the one who had to justify himself.

“She just has to wait for another seven months and she’ll get one” you commented, with a tiny knowing smirk that he had always found the sexiest “… and she doesn’t even like me, even more now that she knows about Eric, probably…”.

“She never hated you!” replied exasperated Ivar “… and she is excited to see Eric, but… I understand if you don’t feel like that”.

“I’ll think about it” you simply repeated again, before saluting him, as you got in the car, making Eric wave at him, till you were lost in the horizon.

And he couldn’t help but hate the thought of you leaving.

---

Eric sang for the entire on the road back home, much to your hangover head.

But you were glad to have him back in your arms.

Although a night without him had been quite more pleasurable than you had thought…

… till the following morning you had woken up with a full-blown hangover, some random guy’s number in your phone with the note ‘call me’, although you were sure that you’d never do it.

In fact, not even a few harmless chats with the guys in the club that Angelika had brought you in had broken you away from your attraction towards Ivar.

Hence you had grown quite heavy with the alcohol.

But at least the hangover had avoided making you think about him.

Maybe you should have seriously thanked Angelika.

Although you doubted she’d be up right now, since not only her son was at her father’s house on the weekends, but she had gone back home with a pretty young thing last night, after she had accompanied you back home.

Your mother had caught you in your stumbling steps and had simply helped you to settle in bed, mumbling something about ‘having enough children, these days’ but she had left water by your beside table.

Which you had needed, because you had woken up with a sore throat, suddenly remembering about the first time you had drunk something remotely alcoholic.

It had happened at the Lothbrocks’ house.

They had always bene a terrible influence on you.

Ragnar had come back from one of his ‘trips’ and he had brought over a bottle of some awful Nordic liquor, which you had downed alongside the brothers as you played a rather version of ‘never have I ever’.

And luckily for you, half of the questions where sexual, so you had drunk.

A lot.

To the point that Ivar had insisted on you staying over, before you were even together.

Not that he had much choice, you had fallen asleep on his bed a few minutes after he had bought you to his room.

It had been the first of many nights spent together.

And the missing figure of his body against you, hurt you.

A month ago, you wouldn’t have cared.

But having Ivar so close to you and Eric…

… it almost made you think about what you could have been.

And what he would be with Freydis’ child.

You were truly happy for her.

She was sweet and gorgeous, what more could Ivar want?

A single mom who was a complete and utter mess wasn’t seriously something anybody might have been interested in.

Eric called out your name and you immediately shook yourself from your thought, realizing that you had actually arrived home.

“Oh Gosh” you were glad that your own hands had been much more functional than your awful brain “… we are here, already”.

“Mommy, are you hurt?” asked worried Eric, seeing you grimacing a bit because of the tiredness in your limbs.

Honestly, it wasn’t supposed to be that heavy on you.

You weren’t that old after all… you hoped.

“No, no sweetie” ‘my heart just decided to break itself on useless memories’ “… what about you? Do your legs bother you?”.

“No no” he chanted, with a happy smile on his face “… I am just a bit tired”.

“Are you saying that because you are truly tired or because you don’t want to do your homework?”.

“Daddy didn’t make me do any homework yesterday!” he tried to protest, just to be frozen by your harsh gaze.

Even hangover you knew how to handle the temper he had inherited from Ivar.

“… and that is why you shall do some today” you commented, as you moved to exit the car and collect him, helping him with his braces and in getting up, as he brought his backpack with him “… not too many, if you promise not to protest too much”.

“I swear that I won’t talk as Loki, when they stitched his mouth close” he promised, zipping his mouth, as you sent him a worried look.

“A rather gruesome story…” she mumbled softly “… I’ll have a talk with your father about it”.

“He said you wouldn’t have approved” he commented, with that smartass smirk his father had as well.

“… but he still told you” you grumped more on yourself than on anything else.

You and Eric arrived at home, your mother welcoming you back, as she hugged her beloved grandchild, something that reminded you of the conversation that you had last had with Ivar about Aslaug.

Your mother loved Eric with all her heart, it was her grandchild.

And had the situation been reversed, had you been the one who had just discovered of your child… you would have wanted your mother to know him.

In the end Ivar would always do as he preferred.

And get people to bow for him.

Part of you wanted to almost refuse his offer to let Aslaug meet your son, because of that.

But… it wouldn’t have been fair… to the poor woman.

As much as you didn’t find particular interest in Aslaug and in her liking you, your younger self had always tried to appease to her, both because she meant so much to Ivar, but also because you admired her.

She was a single mom too, with four children, one of which born with a rare genetic disease, handling an absent father and constant fights among her children.

And she always looked damnably classy, with her stylish clothes and her ironic gaze.

You had always been scared of her.

And you were still, a bit.

But you had grown.

You were yourself a single mother, maybe less stylish than her.

You were doing it for her, not for Ivar.

And that was what you kept on saying to yourself, as you asked to a wondering Eric.

“Would you like to know your other grandma, little one?”.

---

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#Ivar #Ivar The Boneless #Ivar Reader #Ivar The Boneless Reader #Ivar x Reader #Ivar The Boneless x Reader #Ivar Imagine #Ivar The Boneless Imagine #Ivar Fic #Ivar The Boneless Fic #Ivar Fluff #Fluff #Ivar Angst #Angst #Modern! Ivar #Vikings #History Vikings #Vikings Imagine

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imagining-supernatural · 4 years

Text

The Confession

Part 27 of Seventy Percent

Series Summary: When you left on your trip to Vegas, you’d planned on letting loose for one last weekend before heading back to reality and getting your affairs in order so your best friend wouldn’t be left cleaning up your mess when your cancer finally ended your life. What you hadn’t counted on was waking up married to a celebrity who has a knight-in-shining-armor complex, connections with an oncologist, and amazing insurance…

Chapter Summary: You and Sebastian spend more time in the hospital talking

Word Count: 2,621

Warnings: Brief mentions of abortion & suicide, not an accurate timeline of medical recovery

God, you hated sleeping in hospitals. Mostly because sleep was impossible. It seemed like as soon as you finally fell asleep, a nurse was waking you to take your vitals.

“Sorry to wake you, just gotta check on some things,” a nurse you’d never seen before woke you quietly.

Seb shifted behind you, arms tightening until he was awake enough to process what was going on. He grunted something that could have resembled words, had he been more awake. As it was, he sounded like a caveman as he slipped from the bed to the chair. Once the nurse completed her quick exam, he wasted no time in returning to his place beside you, this time under the covers.

“It’s useless to try and convince you to go home and get some actual sleep in an actual bed, right?”

“Right,” he replied, curling his body around yours even more. As much as you hated to admit it, it made you feel better. Not good, because you doubted you could ever feel good about what you’d done, but having him hold you so tight seemed to calm your nerves that had begun to fray during your fight on Saturday.

Once Seb set his mind to something, you knew he didn’t give up. After all, that was what had gotten you into this predicament in the first place. Had he not set his mind to flying you out to New York to meet Doctor Helen Sharpe, you’d probably be back in Utah, living out the last few weeks of your life.

But here you were: cancer free.

And now he’d set his mind to riding out whatever your relationship with him would turn into. He found out he truth about your past and he was still here, holding you.

Maybe it was that reminder, but you found that you were able to fully relax into his arms, even going so far as to twine your fingers with his. He squeezed your hand once before he went lax at your back, falling back asleep.

“It’s like Skip-Bo on steroids,” you explained to Brenda the next day.

She sat on the other side of the table that Sebastian had acquired from somewhere in the hospital. “I haven’t played Skip-Bo in ages.”

“You’ll catch on quick. So, in my version of Nerts, everyone gets their own Rook deck. Each deck has a mark on the back to distinguish it from the others. There are no turns; everybody just goes for it.” You finished explaining the rules, then started playing. When you’d taught Seb a few months ago, it had just been the two of you and he was surprised at how much crazier it was by just adding one person.

By the time Brenda had to get back to her rounds, you’d played six hands and she was beating both you and Seb.

Shuffling your deck, you rolled your eyes. “I hate it when you teach someone a new game and they’re better at it than you are in less than an hour.”

“You literally just had brain surgery. I’m pretty sure you weren’t on your A-Game.”

“Okay, but I have a friend who refuses to play Nerts with me because he hates losing every single time, so this just feels wrong, brain surgery or not. It’s not fair at all.”

“Life ain’t fair, sweetheart.”

“Don’t I know it,” you mumbled while wrapping a rubber band around your Rook deck.

He glanced at the shut door and took a deep breath. The light-hearted atmosphere in the room dissipated. “Hey Y/N, I’ve been wondering… Your dad died in a house fire. You were at Jasmin’s house all night. How did you… How could you have…”

“How’d I do it? Kill him?” He nodded at your blunt words and you sat back, thinking of the shortest way to say it. “I got home from school and he told me that mom had been arrested for public intoxication or something and that he was going to use this time without her to, uh beat her bad genes out of me.” As if those were the genes that needed to be beaten out. “And, I don’t know. I guess I just snapped. Eliza had been gone for years, so she wouldn’t be hurt. Mom was locked up and couldn’t show up and get hurt either… So, later that night he passed out on the couch and…”

You took a deep breath and looked away from him, focusing on the door to the bathroom. You’d never said these words aloud before. Jasmin and your sister never asked how you did it. They never asked why you did it. They just took you at your word and let it be.

“I spilled the rest of his whiskey on his shirt and the couch then lit a cigarette and put it between his fingers. Grabbed my backpack and walked the few blocks to Jasmin’s house. Our neighbor reported the fire half an hour later.”

“So you didn’t kill him. Not really.”

“Indirectly,” you challenged, looking straight at him again.

“Indirectly, huh?” He sat forward in his chair, elbows on knees, and trained his eyes right on yours. “Is that how you killed the person after your dad? You said you killed someone before him and after. You consider the abortion to be the first person you killed right? So…”

You grabbed Brenda’s deck of Rook cards and started shuffling them, holding Seb’s gaze. “You seem to know more than I do, so why don’t you tell me?”

“I think you blame yourself for your mother’s death.” You flinched, finally breaking eye contact. Unfortunately, Sebastian kept talking. “And judging by that reaction, I hit the nail right on the head.”

“She loved my dad,” you whispered. “I don’t understand it, not with what he did to us, but she did. Then I killed him and… I guess she didn’t have anything left to live for.”

The hum of medical machinery and faint chatter from the hall filled the air until Sebastian processed your words. Softly, so softly, he reached across the table with an open hand and waited until you gave in and reluctantly placed your hand in his. His blue eyes seared into yours. “I wasn’t there, so I don’t know what happened. I never knew your mom, but… what if you’re looking at it the wrong way?”

“I killed my dad, and a few months later my mom killed herself. That’s not coincidence, Seb.”

“I’m not saying it is.” His agreement surprised you. “I’m just saying, maybe her motivation wasn’t love for your father.”

“Then what is it?”

“Maybe she stayed alive so long because of you. Because she wanted to protect you from him as much as she could. And as soon as he was gone… she didn’t have that responsibility. She knew you could take care of yourself and she just… couldn’t go on. And she didn’t have to go on.”

That… couldn’t be it. She wasn’t a strong person. She couldn’t have protected you from him any more than you could have stopped him.

But you hadn’t considered that side of the argument before. Either way, his death had caused hers. But, if Seb was right… Then you’d given her the peace of mind she needed to finally let go. She was a shell of a person by the end and while you wish she hadn’t died, you couldn’t blame her for it. Picking yourself up after years and years of an abusive marriage had to be so fucking difficult, and she just wasn’t strong enough.

“Think about it, okay?” Sebastian said a minute later. While you were still reeling from this new view on your past, he gently ushered you towards the recliner in the corner of the room and pulled you onto his lap. With his arms around you and Brooklyn 99 playing on his phone, it wasn’t long before your post-surgery exhaustion took over and you fell asleep.

You weren’t sure how long you were sleeping, but when you woke up, the room was darker as the sun was falling behind the skyline. Seb’s chest was rumbling under your ear as he spoke quietly into his phone

“Nah, mom, the hospital food isn’t so bad. I’m sure when Y/N wakes up, she’ll be on me to go take a shower and I’ll grab some real food on my way back.” His mom replied on the other end of the call, but you couldn’t make out any words. All that you could feel was his hand rubbing up and down your arm and his chest rising with each breath he took. “She’s doing well. Better than I expected after brain surgery… No, I’m not sugar-coating it. She’s fine, medically speaking. I swear. It’s just that some personal shit came up and it’s eating her up… Of course, I am, mom. Why do you think I haven’t gone home to shower? Yeah, love you too. I’ll let you know when we can fly out and you can finally meet her.”

He hung up and tossed his phone over onto the bed before shifted just enough to somehow curl around you even more. He pressed his lips to your hairline. “Mornin’, sweetheart.”

“Is it morning?” you rasped, throat dry. It didn’t surprise you that he knew you were awake. After all, you’d been sleeping in the same bed as him for weeks now. You knew each other’s habits well enough by now to be able to read body language.

“Evening, actually. But time doesn’t really exist in hospitals.”

“Mmm,” you agreed. This time it was you who shifted, pulling back just enough to tilt your head up to his. “How’s your mom doing?”

“Great. Excited to meet you once you’re cleared to fly.”

“Mmm,” you hummed neutrally, eyes drifting away from his face to focus on the far wall.

“And she’s gonna love you, you know that, right? Even if you told her everything, she’d love you all the same.” His finger under your chin urged your eyes back to his. “Just like I love you all the same.”

Love? Your eyes darted between both of his, looking for any sign that he was joking. Any sign that he was trying to maybe lighten the mood, but you couldn’t find any. He wasn’t acting… he wasn’t bluffing…

“Oh my god.”

The softest half-smile you’d ever seen crept onto his face seconds before he leaned down and nudged your nose with his. “You seem surprised.”

“I’m…”

Memories flashed in front of you of you and Sebastian.

Seb buying you Oreos and ice cream. His bright eyes when you agreed to stay the night with him that first time. Him defending you to the paparazzi outside the hospital. That hesitance in his eyes when he asked you to wear the ring. Flirting via Skype.

And, god, that first kiss in the elevator. It was like he was drowning and you were the bubble of air he needed to live.

“I’m…” you tried again, but once again, words failed you.

“I love you, Y/N,” he stated, practically guaranteeing that you would never again be able to form a complete sentence ever again. “I know you, I know about your past, and unless you’re hiding a secret bigger than what you’ve already told me, nothing is going to change that. Even then, probably. How I feel about you isn’t going to go away.”

“Seb, I… What?”

He chuckled, bumping your nose again. “I love you. And now I’m going to kiss you. Unless, of course, you have any objections to that.”

Objections? What sort of objections could you possibly have with his eyes looking so sincerely into yours and his arms warm around you? “I… I probably should have objections.”

“But you don’t?”

“I, uh, can’t think of anything right now.”

His grin grew and a mumbled good later, his lips were on yours.

The kiss was gentle, at first. His lips were barely brushing yours, and if it wasn’t for his thumb stroking your cheek and your heart beating hard enough to crack a rib, you wouldn’t even have classified this as a kiss.

Then he pressed closer, stealing every breath you exhaled until there wasn’t anything but him. Every kiss with Sebastian seemed to rewrite your world, but this kiss completely undid everything. All that mattered was the minty aftertaste of the gum he’d been chewing earlier, the rough callouses of his hands scratching against your cheek, and his familiar musky aftershave scent enveloping you.

Slowly, he began pulling away, leaving a trail of kisses across your cheek as he chuckled. “I think I like kissing you when you’re hooked up to a heart monitor.”

His words made you realize that the monitor was beeping much faster than it had been just moments before and you ducked your head into his neck, huffing soft laughter.

“I like that sound too,” he murmured. “Been a while since you’ve laughed.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, risking a quick kiss to his neck. He brought his hand up to curl around your head, mindful of the bandage from surgery. His simple action anchored you to him; anchored you to this moment. This moment where the outside world didn’t exist. Where it was just you and him. “You know this isn’t over, right? I’m fucked up and a kiss isn’t going to make it all better.”

“I know. But I hope you know that I’m going to be right by your side through all of it. I don’t know why I married you in Vegas, but I know why I want to stay married to you.” At his declaration, you eased your head away from his neck and looked at him. With the sincerest expression you’d ever seen, he tucked your hair behind your ear and looked right into your eyes. “I’m all in, sweetheart. I’m willing to do whatever I need to, to get you good again. I have a therapist I go to sometimes who is great. Or we could find someone else, if you don’t want to mix that. Whatever you want.”

“I went to therapy in college,” you said weakly, about to argue that it hadn’t helped.

Sebastian apparently knew where you were going and broke in. “But you didn’t talk about everything, did you?” You shook your head and he gave you a reassuring smile. “Baby, you’ve gotta talk about it. All of it.”

A deep sigh escaped your lips and you laid your head back down on his shoulder. “I know.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead just before his chin came to rest on top of your head. “We’ll figure it out later, okay?”

“Okay,” you gave in, finally acknowledging that you’d stick around in his life. That you weren’t about to run away, and that you accepted that he wasn’t about to call the cops on you or divorce you right away.

A few minutes of comfortable silence tiptoed past. Finally, you stretched and climbed off of Seb’s lap. Your muscles protested, but you pushed through. As much as you’d love to stay curled up with Sebastian all day, your bladder had different plans.

The rest of the day was spent in familiar companionship. No more deep, dark discussions took place, and you managed to keep your self-hatred and depression at bay enough to enjoy the Lord of the Rings marathon Sebastian convinced you to start with him.

You knew this moment was the eye of the hurricane. The last few days had been hell, and the next few days or weeks would likely be just as bad or even worse.

But this moment? All was calm.

He said it! He said he loves her!! She agreed to stick around! Cancer free, love acknowledged, future plans... what more can you want??

Just the Epilogue left, y’all!!

EPILOGUE: THE END

#sebastianxreader #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #marvel fanfiction #sebastian stan x reader fluff #sebastian stan x reader angst

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shozaii · 4 years

Note

my first request!! Monoma falling in love with another student (any class is fine) and being in denial about it until she becomes more popular?? Like they're friends but other boys are starting to confess to her more frequently so he gets jealous? 🤭

(a/n): ahhh that sounds lovely!!🥰 i’m so glad i’ll be writing your request and thank you for sending it in!

requests are still open!💜

masterlist

•••

hidden love.

monoma x reader (headcanons)

warnings: none!

i guess you could say he was head over heels when it came to you. may or may not daydream about you during class.

his friends know really well that he adores you to the brim. if they were collecting money for how long he stares at you.... they would be rich. just saying. you know that one pose that cartoon character does when they’re in love? the ‘both hands on my chin because i’m swooning over you’ pose. that one. now you have monoma neito.

here’s the only problem. he denies it. anytime someone brings it up he just straight up laughs his head off. to which it confuses you even more, because you don’t understand what’s that one joke that brings him into this laughing fit. “me?! are you serious? i’m pretty sure a lot of people have crushes on me, it would never be vice versa, you fools!”

it was vice versa. they could tell

during lunch, he eyes you from a distance. you’d be a few chairs away, chatting away with your friends and you can already sense the usual pair of eyes staring right at you. it makes you blush,,

“oi, monoma. what ya’ starin at?!”

“the number of times i defeated you.” continues laughing (nervously)

he was a handsome weird boyo you’ve known for a long time. sure, you have talked to him a few times, and you notice the slightly changed tone that he had in his voice. when he was with you

i think your friends would give you second - no - third looks when you had admitted of your feelings for him. but you couldn’t deny; there was something about him that made you feel so different.

maybe it was that one time where he talked to you when no one did. or maybe when he complimented the uniqueness of your quirk. genuinely complimenting, don’t worry.

for instance, it was the quirk apprehension test and yours was easy to control. at that situation,you only needed a small amount;which probably didn’t really stand out.

he would notice it,though. it made him curious about you from that moment. so, how should he receive your attention without letting anyone know...?

he made fun of his friends and boasted about his wonderful athletic abilities, etc. (secretly checking whether he succeeded) but with a swift karate chop from kendo, he finally calmed down. at least his mission was a success🤭

and when nobody was watching, he walks over to you and says “i have to admit, your quirk could surpass me.”

you feel so happy because no one has said that to you. so when the boy himself said so, it encouraged you to go further🥰

it’s nice how he could be himself when he was with you. you understand him. he admires that you’re really nice to the other classes. so let’s just say you’re having a conversation with them. he smiles.

he could be with you, saying the stuff he wants to say. but seeing you? he’ll pass.

i would like to think that he finds other people interesting, too. even though he technically boasts a lot.

especially when he has this big fat crush on you

i headcanon monoma to have an interest in looks, aside from quirks. which is why he can’t seem to not look at you. even notices when you style your hair differently. very, very observant. and yes, he telepathically compliments you.

but only when his classmates are around.

simple to say, when he’s alone with you, he is a completely different person. with his friends, he brushes it off. i guess even he couldn’t believe he has fallen for someone. his good friend. he has always expected the opposite, as i mentioned earlier.

time skip to the sports festival where quirks would be showcased. you felt really nervous. but you were ready to give your all. it was pretty hidden from the start anyway.😌

you were the biggest hit among your class! you received so many praises under just a day and boy, were you overwhelmed. it was such a huge change for you. but it was enjoyable.

weeks later, you started getting confessions. letters, chocolates, teddy bears. everyone coming for you like it was the end of the world. was your showcasing really that... effective? did it surprise so many people of their feet? what was going on?

monoma hated it. he did not like seeing the fact that so many people were tailing after you. he has spent his whole life in ua, falling for you even before you had this huge change in your life. he talked you first. he won the race. that’s not fair. >:(

nope, ain’t gonna happen. he has to go with the flow.

his new mission was to taunt the competitors. here’s the scenario that caused him to abort it.

“hey, monoma! a guy just confessed to y/n. oooo what are you gonna do?” etc.

“what?! nahhh, no way! they’re probably just jealous because i, monoma neito, am in love with them. and that is why y/n keeps rejecting every single one of them,” he smiles so proudly.

also not noticing that you were right behind him, in shock.

“really?”

crap. his words have finally failed him.

“and who may you be?” he slapped his forehead in his thoughts.

“um, i’m y/n? nice to meet you...? anyway, i hope you will accept my mutual feelings for you. maybe whatever you said was true,” you smiled.

yes, you will finally see him blush. his friends actually cheer for him.

“t-this is definitely what i was planning for!” he concluded.

“mhm, sure.”

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

a/n: here you go anon! i hope you liked it!

#bnha #bnha x reader #monoma x reader #monoma neito #neito monoma #bnha headcanons #my hero academia #mha #neito x reader #bnha monoma #bnha imagines #bnha fanfiction #mha x reader #bnha fluff #mha fluff #headcanons #fluff

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justanother-unluckysoul · 4 years

Text

Working My Way Back To You 4/?

Killian gets captured. When Emma finally rescues him, he’s traumatized and nearly broken from the torture he endured. Angst and h/c galore as Emma helps him through it.

I tried to go easy on the whumpy side of it since it’s supposed to be for Comfortember, but it’s me so I probably failed lol

A slightly shorter chapter today, for the prompts “confession,” and “crying.”

This chapter did NOT want to be written and I'm still not 100% happy with how it turned out lol

But some of my favourite parts are coming up soon, and I am excited to share those with you. So just bear with me for this one!

Read this chapter on AO3

Working My Way Back To You

Chapter 4: Confession + Crying

Once he’s caught his breath and had some more water, Killian insists on using the bathroom and doesn’t seem to have thought it through very well, judging by how long it takes him to figure out he needs Emma’s assistance to do so. But in typical Killian fashion he quickly switches from awkward to inappropriately suggestive, and his dirty innuendoes have Emma blushing. How he can still get to her like that, she doesn’t know. But it’s good to see a bit of his normal swagger returning, although it’s still subdued. She even cleans his teeth for him and cracks jokes about how much more enjoyable he is with his mouth otherwise occupied. She knows full well that she’s set up the perfect opening for another innuendo but the fact that his mouth is otherwise occupied means he can do nothing more than wiggle his eyebrows and grin around the toothbrush. She laughs, and he laughs, and he almost misses the sink when he quickly spits out the minty foam, because he’s laughing too hard. Emma’s heart feels light and full.

“I must apologize for earlier, love,” Killian says once he’s sitting on the bed again.

He suddenly won’t meet her eyes and Emma misses the jovial Killian immediately. He raises his hand slightly in an aborted motion, and then he frowns at it in obvious annoyance. She wonders what he was wanting to do – maybe his nervous habit of scratching behind his ear. And Emma feels intensely sad for him, not being able to do even the simplest things for himself until his one hand heals.

“I woke from another dream to see a stranger leaning over me,” Killian explains, “I let fear get the better of me and I do believe my reaction frightened you, and those poor nurses, quite badly.” He cringes a little at the memory. “Not to mention my vile language.”

Emma almost laughs, still feeling slightly giddy from their previous antics, but she manages to contain it to a smile instead.

“I’m sure they’ve heard far worse than ‘bloody,’” she says.

Killian huffs out a soft breath as he smiles too, and his eyes meet hers for a second before looking down at his hand again.

“I’m afraid I was a bit more vulgar than that before you returned.”

Oh, that makes more sense. She’s heard some of Killian’s more explicit language before, when he’s gotten really worked up about something and let slip some rather creative curses under his breath. He always apologizes if he realizes Emma’s overheard him, not that she particularly minds it. There’s something almost hot about Killian’s muttered profanity. She quickly shakes herself from that train of thought – now isn’t really the time.

“Well, I’m sure they won’t hold it against you,” she says, “After what you’ve been through, I think you’re entitled to a bit of vulgarity every now and then.”

The smile drops from his face as Killian seems to think on that for a moment before he nods slowly.

“All the same, if you see them again, could you pass on my apologies?”

“Of course.”

David and Snow visit as promised, bringing some items from home as requested, along with a paper bag containing a home-cooked meal for Emma and a perfect cup of coffee. Killian rouses himself from his exhausted doze to give them a weak attempt of his usual smile.

“Feeling better?”

“Aye.” At Snow’s side eye he amends – “Getting there. You know, some real food wouldn’t hurt.”

A nurse had brought Killian his breakfast (which, according to Killian, couldn’t really be labelled as breakfast) shortly after the bathroom excursion and Killian had made no attempt to hide the fact that’s he wasn’t a fan of the hospital diet. It didn’t help his mood to have Emma spoon feeding him either.

“Sorry, mate, Emma said you’re on a bland diet for now,” David says, and Killian pouts adorably.

“’Bland’ is an understatement,” he mutters.

“I’ll talk to the doctor later and see about getting you something a bit more appetizing, alright?” Emma says with a smile.

With what little he’d eaten during his imprisonment, Killian’s stomach likely wouldn’t be able to handle much more than the hospital’s provided food. It didn’t stop him from complaining about it though. Emma feels guilty eating her comparatively delicious meal in front of Killian, but he assures her it’s fine. Snow and David don’t stay long, obviously noticing that Killian’s still tired, and moments after they leave, he’s asleep again.

***

Around midday, the doctor stops by to check on Killian. Killian endures the pokes and prods with barely a wince and plenty of banter, until the doctor gets to his hand. As soon as he starts to unwrap the bandage Emma can feel the change come over Killian, the stoic bravado giving way to that same fear as the day he’d been rescued. Sitting at his left side, Emma tries to meet Killian’s eyes but he’s staring intensely straight ahead, muscle rippling across his jawline as he breathes short and sharp through his nose.

“This won’t hurt, Captain,” the doctor assures him, “I’m just going to look, okay?”

“Okay,” Killian repeats tightly.

Emma curls her hand firmly around his left forearm. She’s not sure what to say, not sure if anything she says will even help. Her thumb rubs a gentle pattern over his skin. She doesn’t want to look at Killian’s broken hand any more than he seems to. But it’s not as bad as she’d feared. The swelling had decreased from the last time she saw it (thank God that his captors had removed his rings at some point, so they hadn’t caused more damage as Killian’s fingers swelled up), the stitches small and neat, tape binding his fingers together to hold them in place with a splint. Only his thumb had avoided injury. Killian swallows, his head pressing hard against the pillow. Emma tries again to make eye contact and fails.

“Everything looks good so far,” the doctor says, “I don’t think you need the bandage anymore.”

Killian’s breath catches. His body turns towards Emma slightly, his arm tugging against the doctor’s hold. The doctor releases his hand, and Killian tucks it protectively near his chest.

“The most important thing right now is rest,” the doctor advises.

“When can I get out of here?” Killian asks.

His casual tone belies the tension that’s radiating from his body.

“I’d like you to stay for at least a week, just to make sure the antibiotics do their job properly, and to give your body a little more nourishment. You’re healing well but you’ve been through a lot. It’s going to take some time to get your strength back.”

“Surely you don’t think you can keep me in this bed for a week.” Killian’s voice carries a hard edge of steel now.

Dangerous, and desperate. Emma thinks of a wounded animal caught in a trap. She shifts her hand to Killian’s shoulder and squeezes gently.

“No, of course not,” the doctor says, “You’re free to go for a walk whenever you feel up to it. There’s a nice garden outside, and some fresh air and sunshine will do you good.”

He glances at Emma.

“Just don’t let him push himself too hard.”

Killian’s almost vibrating.

“I can make my own decisions,” he says, his voice too loud in the small room, “And I don’t need to bloody stay here either, I’m not-”

Emma hears his teeth click as he bites down on whatever he was going to say.

“No, you’re not,” the doctor says, as if he knows what Killian was going to say (Emma can make a pretty good guess as well – an invalid. Crippled. Broken.), “but you have been through a traumatic event and you’ve got a pretty nasty injury here. You need time to heal and if you try to do too much, too soon it’s just going to end up making things worse for you in the long run. Do you understand that?”

Killian doesn’t answer, just keeps clenching his jaw and glaring at the doorway. Emma smiles at the doctor in what she hopes is a reassuring way. She gets the feeling it’s more like a grimace though.

“He’ll be okay,” she says, “I’ll look after him.”

The doctor doesn’t look convinced, but he nods anyway and turns to leave.

“My hand,” Killian says suddenly and his voice cracks on the second word, his demeanour no longer angry, “Will I ever… get full use of it again?”

“Oh, yes, I believe so. Sorry, I thought you knew. You’ll need physical therapy but yes, it should heal almost as good as before.”

“Almost as good?”

“Captain, I’m sure don’t need to remind you that there was a lot of damage done. Modern medicine is a marvellous thing but… we can only do so much.”

Emma can feel Killian starting to tremble. Thankfully, the doctor decides to give them some privacy now, because it seems the pirate is reaching the end of what he can endure.

“Alright, I’ll check in on you guys later, okay?”

The moment the door closes behind the doctor Killian makes a sound, a soft noise of suffering Emma can’t put a name to.

“Killian?” Emma says worriedly, “Are you okay?”

Killian barks out a mirthless laugh and raises his hand like he wants to scrub his gathering tears away, but of course he can’t, and he looks so hurt by that realization.

“No, I’m not bloody okay,” he says angrily, “They destroyed my damn hand. My only hand, Swan. They’ve crippled me.” He lets out a shaky breath. “Gods, they broke me.”

And there it is. Emma’s been almost expecting him to break down at some point, but now that it’s happening it shocks her all the same. She reaches for him and he folds into her arms, crying silently, tears quickly soaking into her shirt. There’s only so much a person can take and God, poor Killian’s been through it all. Emma feels her own tears burning hot as they slip from her closed eyes.

“They didn’t break you, Killian,” she says, emotion choking her, “Your hand is going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”

He has his arms around her, a little awkwardly because he’s trying not to bump his hand on anything, his face pressed into her shoulder. Her hand cradles the back of his head, holding him close.

“I’m sorry, Emma,” he says, his voice cracking, “I’m so sorry, I tried…”

“No, it’s okay. Don’t apologize. Just let it out, Killian, I’ve got you.”

Killian mumbles something else but Emma can’t make it out. She just keeps murmuring assurances through her own tears and holding Killian until he’s able to calm down again. He’s clearly exhausted from his outburst and the subsequent breakdown, because within a few minutes of lying down again he’s drifted into a deep, surprisingly peaceful sleep.

To be continued...

#comfortember 2020 #cs ff #hurt/comfort #killian whump #captain swan #killian jones #emma swan #my fanfics

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