#i mean aside from all the 'running away' and 'life on the highway' stuff

[inthetowncalledyesterday]

i watched poker face, and I say this about everything i watch and then write about here, but it was really good!

the premise was fun, and each episode was interesting, and i loved how they show you the scenes then recontextualise it all with how charlie was there too. i came to really enjoy that familiar guitar track that when it plays, you're just like ah, we're about to see charlie again.

and charlie cale! she's played by natasha lyonne who did a great job and is why i started watching poker face in the first place (i really enjoyed russian doll, another great show i recommend).

but charlie cale! fantastic protagonist which made the whole show for me. i loved her kindness, her heart, but also just the way she could invite herself into people's lives, and how she could easily strike up conversation with anyone. that's one thing i really loved about this series, is how people just came together (the truckers in the diner are a big example), and all the unexpected allies she forms. but also that to me, anyways, those interactions didn't feel unnatural at all - like they could happen irl, if there was someone like charlie.

can't wait for season 2 :)

[madhattersez]

Garden Bros Nuclear Circus (Austin, TX)

First of all, I should mention that this circus cut all animal acts out of it, aside from one dog trick troupe doing stuff you'd expect on something like "America's Got Talent." Because of that, we thought we'd check it out.

The Big Top and attached... um... medium tops (?) were large and bright and easy to see from the highway. That's good, because the address the site had when I purchased tickets was about two miles away (there was at least a sign at the original spot that helped).

The whole thing had a... Doctor Who-adjacent storyline. The only clown in the show also served as a bit of a Ringmaster, preceding each act by repeatedly not learning his dumbass lesson and answering the phone every time it rang - It transported him each time (somewhat violently) to a different time and place.

One thing that made this circus way more different than ones I went to as a kid was the amount of really well-costumed dance numbers whenever the time period changed. I suppose this probably fills the holes that were once populated by numerous animal acts in the past.

I honestly dug it - Having a storyline and dancing in between stuff gave it a (very low budget) Cirque de Soleil vibe.

The aforementioned doggos doing doggo things:

Random circusy things:

You know those "People that are all muscular that stack together like statues?" Yeah, this circus had one of those troupes. But they were the best I'd ever seen, on TV or in person. I mean, look at this shit:

One thing about them is that, in between tricks, they did some sexy salsa dancing. And, let me tell you, dear reader - It was the most ridiculously sexy salsa dancing I've ever seen in my life. I think I accidentally laughed out loud the first time they did it because it was so overcharged. There was howling from the stands, even.

I thought this had to be Magic Mike's Nuclear Circus.

Anyway, I'd love to finally talk about this thing:

I don't know what this contraption is called (maybe one of you can educate me without Googling it? Hah), but it has always been my favorite thing to see at a circus ever since I was a little kid.

Literally death-defying. No safety net. No cables. These folks run and grab and jump around inside and outside the circle as the whole thing swings around.

I can't imagine the practice and precision it takes to master an act like this. I'm always blown away. And this kid was probably like 16-18 max. Here's some video proof of me yelping in amazement:

Damn, that's impressive.

[bbrandy2002]

Fearless

Chapter 4: See the Lights, See the Party, the Ball Gowns

Book: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Pairing: Prince/King Liam x MC (Riley Brooks), Drake Walker x OC (Alyssa Devereaux)

Series Premise: Riley Brooks and Alyssa Devereaux became best friends as freshmen at Syracuse University, a borderline-sisterhood that lasts forever after. When Riley meets a handsome prince and is asked to compete for his hand in a mysterious faraway kingdom, she invites Alyssa along for moral support.

What the girls think will be a crazy temporary adventure becomes two sets of happily ever afters … with twice the shenanigans to show for it.

A/N: This series is written in loving collaboration between @bbrandy2002 and @burnsoslow​.

Series Warnings: Smut 🍋🍋, language, canon violence (gun violence, bombing, terrorism), drug use, probably more stuff as we think of it. By reading this series, you agree that you are at least 18 years old and are prepared to deal with adult themes.

The girls spent their first morning in Cordonia with their respective sponsors, getting the first glimpses of courtly life and preparing for the Masquerade Ball taking place that evening. As much as they wanted to get out and experience all that this little Mediterranean country had to offer, there was just so much to do and little time to do it. 

That morning, while Alyssa worked diligently on learning the steps of the Cordonian Waltz and etiquette with Rashad, Maxwell finally got Riley out of bed in time for a late breakfast. This included meeting his brother, Bertrand, who was none too thrilled with the former waitress from New York. Riley discovered rather quickly that the duke was nothing like the free-spirited Maxwell; if ever there was a picture display of a killjoy, she was sure his scowling face would be plastered dead in the center.  

The day kind of went by in a dizzying blur, especially for Riley, who spent most of it either being lectured by Bertrand, or raiding the kitchen for stress snacks with Maxwell. And as far as anyone knew, Liam was still unaware that the quirky, raven-haired beauty he’d met two nights ago and never expected to see again was in his country, in his palace, and was about to come face-to-face with him.

If she didn’t die of anxiety first. 

Neither of the girls saw each other until much later that afternoon when they linked up in Riley’s room before heading to the palace's salon for last-minute hair and nail appointments. 

Later on in the boutique, Riley sucked in a deep breath and held in her stomach while Alyssa stood behind her, fighting to zip the back of the angel-themed costume she chose for the Masquerade Ball. 

Actually, "chose" was a loose description in this case. The ensemble was one of the last two dresses in the palace's boutique, and Maxwell insisted Riley wear it instead of the more provocative red devil attire to make herself more appealing to the King and Queen. The Beaumont sponsee didn’t give two shits at that moment about impressing the monarchs; her major concern was how she would fit that size-four dress over her size-six body. 

“What the hell did you eat, Ri? This zipper is not budging an inch," an out-of-breath Alyssa groaned as she attempted to pull the tight fabric closer together.  

Steadying her feet firmly to the ground, a jostled-around Riley answered quietly, in a still manner, so as not to undo what little progress her friend had already made, "You know I'm a stress eater. I've experienced many emotions since we left yesterday, and food therapy helps. And your judgment is making me hungry again, so thank you for making it worse."

"I'm not judging you; I'm simply stating a fact: Your ass won’t fit in this dress."

Riley straightened up a little higher, hoping to thin her lean frame out more. "Well, it's gonna have to," she scoffed. "I can't be the only suitor at this ball without the proper attire."

Alyssa tugged harder in frustration. "You know, it might help if I could remove the price tag from the zipper."

"Perhaps." Riley sideways glanced at the two inattentive boutique cashiers before turning her head slightly over her shoulder to acknowledge her best friend in a hushed tone. "But then I wouldn't be able to return it in the morning. $700 for a damn dress is highway robbery, and I won't be a victim to this place's jacked-up prices." She glared back at the fashionably dressed women running the register and hollered out, "You should all be ashamed of yourselves!"

"Shhhh!" Alyssa's face burned with embarrassment while she smiled sheepishly at the bewildered ladies. "Are you crazy? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"You mean aside from the usual things that are wrong with me? I'm a nervous wreck, Lyss. Liam still doesn't know that I'm here. I'm about to go wine-and-dine with snobby rich people, while my socially awkward-o-meter is on red alert. And Maxwell's brother didn't like me. How am I supposed to impress Liam, the press, this council, and his parents when my own sponsor hates me?"

"He doesn't hate you," Alyssa replied. "Suck in your stomach a little more ... Rashad told me Duke Beaumont is high-strung and takes all this court business very seriously. If you ask me, give ‘The Brows’ some time. I know he'll love you. And Liam already does!" Alyssa stepped back in delight after tirelessly sliding the last bit of the zipper to the neckline. "Voila! I got it."

Riley stiffly turned toward the full-length mirror -- her insides feeling like they would pop right out of her -- and surveyed the finished product. "Not bad, not bad. A slight muffin top on the sides, and my ass cheeks are packed in tighter than my family around the dessert station at a buffet, but ... I think I can get by with it." Turning to face Alyssa, she lit up with anticipation. "Okay, now it's your turn."

Alyssa plucked the bright red dress off the rack and headed inside one of the many dressing rooms. A moment later, she emerged with a beaming smile on her face and held her arms out to the side to do a show-offish twirl. "So, how do I look?"

"Oh my god, Lyss!" Riley clapped excitedly. "You look so hot in that! That color of red really suits you too. Although, you might want to cover up the girls a little more; I've never seen your boobs look so huge."

"Wha --" Alyssa glanced down at her fully rounded chest, a substantial portion of which was spilling out over the top. She crossed her arms over her breasts in horror. "OH MY GOD! You're right: They're enormous in this thing. I can't go out there like this! They'll be stuffing dollar bills into my cleavage and begging for a lap dance!"

"Well, just ... try to tuck them in," Riley suggested, demonstrating her advice on herself. “You know, the way guys tuck in their junk.”

Alyssa shook her head adamantly, attempting to slide the top of the dress up higher. "I don't think that'll work. It's already extremely tight."

“That’s what he said,” Riley quipped with a snicker, much to the chagrin of her longtime friend, who simply blinked back. “Wow, not even a smile. Come on, Lyss, it’s not that hard.”

Alyssa grinned despite herself, “That’s what she said.”

Riley stepped closer, reaching out to grab a portion of the garment covering Alyssa's bosom, and declared, "Alright, If I can squeeze my fat ass into this dress, you can cram those giant melons into yours. So, get to pushin’, girl.”

-----------

After 10 minutes of stuffing uncooperative breasts into a gown, Alyssa and Riley stepped out of the boutique and made their way to the bottom of the main staircase outside of the ballroom, where Rashad and Maxwell were waiting eagerly for them. 

A grim-faced Rashad approached the pair as they neared. “We were beginning to worry about you two. I hope you didn’t have any trouble.” He reached out and greeted Alyssa with a friendly kiss to the cheek as Riley made her way up to Maxwell, who did the same.

“No troubles,” Alyssa assured him, before staring down at her chest to make sure certain parts were still contained inside her dress. “Just some slight wardrobe issues that I think we’ve taken care of.”

Riley frowned, rubbing a soothing hand over her squeezed-in stomach. “Let’s just say we both feel like canned biscuits.”

“And I’m petrified of canned biscuits!” Alyssa shrieked, then spoke in a lower, punier voice in Rashad’s direction. “They make that popping sound that scares the hell out of me.” He nodded sympathetically at her admission, having no clue what canned biscuits were.

Maxwell let out a chuckle. “Either way, you both look awesome! Like two totally righteous peas in a pod and all that jazz.” He peeked over at Riley, who wasn’t appearing too sure of herself, or of anything for that matter, knowing she’d spent most of the day in a subtle panic. While she steadied her breath, he looped his arm through hers and leaned over. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. You’re going to go in there like the boss you are and knock them all dead. I just know it.”

Riley swallowed thickly, “But Liam --”

“Will be over the moon with excitement to see you again. Do you think I’d go through all the trouble of trying to convince you, and then Alyssa, to come all the way here -- not to mention, facing my brother’s wrath -- if I didn’t believe Liam would want to see you again?” Riley half-shrugged, but Maxwell could tell by the little glimmer of hope he caught in her eyes and the slight curl at the corner of her plush pink lips that she knew it was true. “If he’s not happy about seeing you, I’ll book you on the first flight back to New York, and you can punch me in the gut or something. But I can tell you with certainty: No man goes out with a woman and keeps his friends up most of the night talking about how amazing she was if he doesn’t want to see her again.”

Riley could feel a tinge of pink color her cheeks and looked away for a brief moment, knowing he was right. She was about to see her prince again. Simply knowing how happy Liam was when they parted ways that night made her heart flutter. The blushing suitor peered back at the towering man on her arm and smiled appreciatively. “Thanks, Max.” 

As they both stared straight ahead at the set of double doors where Alyssa was making her grand entrance into the ballroom with Rashad, Riley pointed out, “You realize if you had said all that stuff to me this morning and five bloated pounds ago, I wouldn’t have cried to you all day over pints of ice cream, half a sheet cake, and a bag of Mini Snickers?”

Lord Beaumont grinned without looking at her as the orchestral music inside erupted through the newly opened threshold that awaited their crossing. A gleam of anticipation glistened the cobalt hue of his eyes.”That’s our cue. Time to look alive, Twinkle Toes, it’s showtime.”

__________

It felt like a million pairs of eyes bore through Riley when the announcer spoke her name out to the guest in the ballroom. In reality, few paid much attention to the young woman dressed in pure white, from the feathery halo perched above her fancy swept-up hairdo to the tiny heels that sparkled like glittery specks of fairy dust on her feet.  

As Maxwell ushered her proudly through the spectacular crowd adorned in the finest silks and chiffons, faces concealed behind extravagant masks similar to hers, and opulent table spreads of gold and crimson, Riley searched the four corners of the room for one particular set of the bluest eyes she’d ever encountered -- she had Liam’s memorized by heart. However, the only ones she recognized came from her smiling best friend, standing casually beside the Lord of Domvallier at the bar, keeping her word to watch out for her. With a subtle grin from Alyssa to convey she had her back, the whirlwind of fear and chaotic thoughts that overwhelmed Riley quickly dissipated into thin air. 

Baby steps.

While Maxwell and Riley headed to the center of the ballroom to meet up with Bertrand, across the way, Alyssa ordered a cranberry vodka from the bar. She was wearing red and needed a drink that matched perfectly with the fabric in case of accidental spillage. As the bartender poured her glass, she tore her vigilant gaze from Riley when Rashad’s cell rang. Seconds later, he covered his phone lightly with a palm and lowered it away from his ear to speak with her. 

“This is my client in California. Will you be okay for a little bit while I take this out on the balcony?”

Alyssa nodded. “Of course. Take your time. Is there anything I should be doing while you’re gone?”

“Try mingling with the crowd. Get to know the other suitors. The best way to help Riley tonight is to get a feel for the competition. Figure out who you can potentially get on her side and who is going to cause her trouble.”

“With all due respect, this isn’t Survivor.”

Rashad grinned before excusing himself. “We'll see if you still feel that way by the end of the social season.”

What is it with all the Debbie Downers here? He sounds just like -- Before she could finish that thought, a stroke of irony occurred when she caught the denim-clad Drake, standing out like a sore thumb, making his way up to the bar. She quickly spun around on the barstool and hovered over her freshly poured beverage. 

Tapping the bar's woodgrain top, Drake called for, “The usual,” before plopping down on the stool next to her. His woodsy scent filled the air and wafted in her direction; she wondered if he’d even recognize her.

Pressing the rim of the glass to her lips to take the first nervous sip of her drink, she wondered why she even cared if he did.

Alyssa set the vodka cranberry down on a cocktail napkin at the same time Drake reached for his tumbler of whiskey. A brush of their hands caused them both to retreat away before he bowed his head respectfully to her. 

“I’m sorry, my lady.” Drake was quick to apologize. He never knew which stuck up nobles would have an issue with a commoner’s simple touch.

Alyssa lifted a brow and smirked in response. “So you do have manners?”

He’d recognize that wily voice anywhere. Grumbling, Drake responded. “Aww, hell! Pipsqueak? Is that you?”

“Hello, Sunshine.” She dimpled.

Drake shook his head. “I should have known. Of all the damn people in this room, I still managed to find you.”

“I would call that a very lucky day for you then.” Alyssa lifted her drink and tipped back a gulp. “So what’re you doing here? Don’t you have some royal cows or chickens to herd around or something? Who wears denim and jeans to a fancy ball?” 

She would if she could get away with it.

His tight shoulder muscles bounced slightly with disingenuous laughter as his chestnut eyes took in her sultry devilish costume. “I could ask you the same about your own clothes. Suitors are supposed to dress up for these things. Not come as themselves.”

Offended, Alyssa arched back contemptuously. “Are you calling me a devil?”

“If the horns and pitchfork fit.” Drake retorted. He motioned with his glass across the room. “By the way, you see that blazing redhead who just stole your little friend away from Maxwell?” When Alyssa snapped her gaze protectively in that direction, he continued, “That’s Olivia. You might want to check in on … what’s her name again?”

“Riley ...” Her tone was resentful. He knows damn well what her name is. 

“Whatever. Just trust me on this, if the two of you know what’s good for ya -- and I’m betting you don’t -- you’ll stay as far away from Olivia and the rest of these social-climbing fuckers as possible.” His mood suddenly shifted as he drained his drink, then slammed it on the bar top, motioning with his hand to the bartender for another.

Alyssa was quick to notice the tension in his jaw and the immense throb of protruding veins in his forearm as he nursed his drink. “What climbed up your ass and died? Why are you even here if you hate everyone so much? 

He quickly snapped. “I’m here for Liam!”

“Well, I’m here for Riley!” The two of them glared at each other in a tense showdown that neither was willing to back down from. After a beat, Alyssa’s determination weakened somewhat; confrontations made her jittery. 

And with him in particular.

Letting her shoulders slump, Alyssa let out a soft breath as she relaxed. “I’m trying to give her some space … but do I need to go check on Riley?” The question was asked sincerely. 

Drake turned his head back, his vision crossing the vast expanse of the room and landing on a perturbed Riley in conversation with Olivia. He scowled, recognizing the expression impressed on her face all too well. “We’re outsiders, Alyssa. You. Me. Riley. That’s the only thing they’ll ever see. It’s the only way they’ll ever treat us.” He shifted to face Alyssa again. “Take that for what you will. If she were my friend … I would.”

_______

Riley shook her head emphatically. “There’s no way I’m supposed to kiss the king’s shoe. That’s weird, creepy, and-and- unsanitary!” She nodded toward a masked couple standing before the seated king who bowed, curtsied, and then exited to the left. “They didn’t kiss his shoe. I think you’re full of shit.” 

“Riley, Riley, Riley.” The duchess shook her head with an exasperated tone. “Those people are well-established and highly-regarded members of the court … you’re not. And while I admit it’s a rather unorthodox Cordonian royal custom, it’s part of our tradition that the newest members humble themselves before the king in an act of deep respect and reverence. I’m actually astounded Maxwell never bothered to tell you.” She flipped back a thick curly-q strand of hair that hung over her shoulders. “Do what you want. But don’t say I didn’t try to help you.”

Riley hesitated. “I guess I’ll keep it in mind …?”

“Great!” Olivia wrapped a firm hand around Riley’s wrist and pulled her toward the throne where the king sat. “You’re so lucky that I was here to warn you! Otherwise, you’d have looked utterly ridiculous.”

“Wait! Where are we going? Riley demanded, her feet barely able to keep up with the brisk pace. 

“To present you to King Constantine.”

“But I need to wait for my sponsor!” Riley protested. She struggled to break free, but the redhead’s clawlike grip was surprisingly strong. 

“Every second counts, Riley. These women have all known Liam for years. The early bird gets the Crown.”

“But I --” Panicked, Riley scoured the room for the Beaumonts and found them standing near the hors d'oeuvres table embroiled in what appeared to be a heated discussion.

“What the fuck?” On the opposite side of the ballroom, Alyssa spotted Olivia hauling Riley across the floor. Before Drake had the chance to warn her this wasn’t good, an enraged Alyssa was already sliding down off the barstool, stampeding off in hot pursuit of finding out what this redheaded troll was doing with her best friend. 

And for reasons he couldn’t fully understand, feeling frustrated beyond comprehension, Drake followed right on her heels.

Coming to a screeching halt before the raised dais, Olivia thrust Riley forward, who nearly tripped from the momentum into the bottom step at the sudden stop.

It took every ounce of restraint Riley had not to turn toward the woman who had forcibly dragged her across the room and to stick a pair of size-seven heels straight up her ass. She, however, liked the pretty, sparkly shoes she had on too much to ruin them … and wanted to end the evening outside of a hospital bed. “Asshole,” she muttered almost soundlessly.

“Your Majesty,” Olivia smirked. “I would like to present to you the suitor House Beaumont has chosen. Lady Riley.”

Riley gave her a cursory glare. It was the moment of truth. She plastered on her best smile for the King, who regarded her with a nod. 

Just … just do it. “Your Majesty.” Riley dipped into a low curtsy and held it in place for several seconds before contemplating the validity of Olivia’s outlandish claim and swallowing hard. “Here goes nothing.”

Placing both palms on the plush red carpeting that laid at the feet of the King, she lowered herself slowly until her knees rested on the top step.

“What the hell is she doing?” Alyssa questioned as she desperately weaved around a sea of faces, dodging server trays and tables along the way. “And where the hell is Maxwell?”

“I don’t know ...” Drake answered, practically pushing her even more quickly through the crowd, “ … but you better move faster. There’s no damn telling what Olivia told her to do.”

Riley paused briefly, staring at the simple black shoes that almost resembled a shiny boot. She wanted to be kissing Liam right now, not his father’s old fricking foot. Worst vacation ever.

Lowering her head gradually toward Constantine’s shoes, she scrunched up her face and reluctantly puckered up. 

Out of nowhere, a body with the vigor of a wild stallion in full sprint barrelled into her side, sending Riley hurling across the dais and causing her to land face-down on the marbled floor below.

"What is the meaning of this?" An enraged Constantine bolted up, his ire focused on Alyssa, hunkered down on all fours at his feet, striving to catch her breath.

Maxwell and Bertrand heard the commotion and came rushing to Riley’s side when they realized it was her sprawled out and jerking on the floor.  

"I'm so sorry, Your Majesty," an apologetic Alyssa said as she reached up for the hand Drake was offering. The King's glare at her was nerve-wracking as he waited for an explanation -- until Drake stepped up in front of her, blocking her view of the incensed monarch. "I can explain."

"I hope you can, young lady." Constantine glowered, baffled as to why Drake Walker was still standing between them … and mirroring every movement she made. When she shifted, he shifted. When she moved her arm, he did the same. Was this some type of game?

“Uh … um.” Alyssa's mind raced with excuses. She couldn't very well tell him the truth and make Riley or herself look bad -- she was still a representative of Duchy Domvallier. There was only one thing she could think of to say as she whipped around Drake and pointed at him. "This man pushed me!"

Drake's body stiffened at her accusation. "The hell you talking about?" 

She covered her eyes with a hand, pretending to sob. "I was on my way up here to pay my respects to you, sir, when this man ..." she paused to take in a fake stuttering breath, "... came out of nowhere and pushed me from behind. I tried to stop myself from running into anyone, but I couldn't. Too much momentum." Alyssa lowered her hand and stared at a wide-eyed Drake. "I’m just a small person, mister. Why would you do that? Why? What did I ever do to hurt you?"

"I never --"

"Drake?" The King eyed him sternly. "Is this true? Did you push this young woman?"

Drake’s defensive stance was no match for Alyssa’s pleading eyes, begging him to save her from this. “Please,” she mouthed.

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “I … I’m sorry, Sir. Lady Alyssa’s extremely long dress was dragging the floor and I stepped on it. When I lifted my foot off, she ... I don’t know … flung forward. I tried to grab her before she went flying, but she got away, and that must be why she thought I pushed her.” Drake lowered his gaze to Alyssa. “You really shouldn’t shop in the adult section, miss.”

“Is it possible you were mistaken, Lady ... Alyssa?”

She nodded. “Yes, that is surely possible,” she agreed in a rehearsed-sounding tone. “It’s all coming back to me now.”

“Well, then.” Constantine's contented glance drifted to Drake. “It’s good to know you didn’t push an innocent suitor on purpose, Drake. But just know this … I’ll be watching you.” 

“Looking forward to it, sir. Thank you, sir.” Drake quickly bowed his head as Constantine returned to his seat to greet the next guest. He grabbed Alyssa’s elbow and rushed her off to the side of the dais.

-----------

Maxwell knelt beside a disheveled Riley, helping her rise to her feet and dusting her off. 

“Lady Riley,” a scowling Bertrand glared, “what on earth is the meaning of this? The glory of House Beaumont is on the line tonight, and you’ve already made your first blunder. I told you, Maxwell, this was a mistake.”

Slightly dazed, Riley stumbled while massaging a sore wrist. Inclining her head so she could see him under the halo that drooped over her eyes, she retorted, “I was shoved, Berturd. It’s not like I did this on purpose. And thank you for your concern; I’m fine, by the way.”

“Shoved? By whom?” The three of them turned to see Alyssa and Drake scampering off to a corner. “It was Domvallier’s suitor?” Bertrand asked incredulously. “This is preposterous! It’s beneath Lord Rashad’s character to have his suitor and Drake Walker sabotage ours. I will have to go over there and put an end to this travesty at once.” 

“NO!” Riley and Maxwell barked.

"Bertrand. Why don't you let Riley and I handle them while you play damage control with the King? Unless ..." he smirked. " You want me to smooth things over with His Majesty? I have a lot to say about how Twinkle Toes just SAILED through the air at warp speed --"

"Dear God, no, Maxwell! There will be no need for your … input. But, you two, get results from Drake and that suitor. No funny business," he warned.

The two of them nodded in understanding. As soon as Bertrand turned his back and marched away, they both gave a knowing glance to the other before rushing over to Drake and Alyssa, who had just made it to a far corner of the ballroom, 

Alyssa yanked her elbow away from his vice-like grasp. “I believe we’re out of the clear; you can let go of me now.”

“Listen. I have to tell you something, ‘cause you need to know it ... “ Drake swallowed thickly, his rounded eyes focused squarely on the woman who’d just thrown him under the bus to King Constantine. He spoke as if he had something caught in his throat, “You--your-- uh -- ”

“And who made these damn shoes, anyway?” Alyssa complained as she hiked up the lower part of her dress and stepped out of her heels. Her already short stature lowered several inches. “They clearly hate short women and feet. Seriously, who thought walking around like a newborn calf was sexy?”

“Alyssa,” Drake tried again to speak through a strained voice, “You need to listen --”

“Hey!” Riley interrupted as she and Maxwell stepped up to them. “Why’d you push me off that stage thingy? And OH MY GOD, ALYSSA! YOUR --” Maxwell slapped a hand over Riley’s mouth, knowing exactly what her big mouth was getting ready to loudly announce.

Her frantic muffled words continued to blabber through his tightly clasped hand.

Alyssa gave him a confused look. “Maxwell, what are you doing?”

“Just stopping her before she told everyone within earshot ...” he paused fleetingly, lowering his gaze from the muddled expression on her face to her chest. “Your bosoms … well, they have emerged.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you before,” a flustered Drake said as Alyssa let out a gasp and looked down. “You’ve been ... exposed … since --” He was quickly cut off again by her tiny wail as she fixed herself and dashed out of the ballroom, mortified, her arms crossed over her chest.

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

Riley tapped lightly on the women’s restroom door. “Lyss? You okay in there?”

“No!” Her pouty voice rang back. “I’m the laughingstock of this entire court.”

Maxwell chuckled, hollering back. “You don’t have to worry about that, Lady Alyssa. I’ve already got that title covered in spades.”

“You two need to get back to the ball,” Drake said gruffly, referring to the girls. “Liam will be arriving any minute.”

“You’re right. There are probably five people in there who still haven’t gotten an up close shot of my breasts.” Alyssa swung the door open, bitterly hitching up the front of her dress as she stepped out, and glared up at Drake as she walked by. “And you let me walk around like that!”

“I did not!” He flushed a deep, dark red. “I told you, that’s why I was standing in front of you, so no one would see … ugh, fuck it. Just -- let’s go, okay?” 

A remorseful Riley hugged Alyssa. “I’m so sorry my dumb ass was what caused this to happen to you. Thank you for making sure I didn’t make a fool of myself.”

Alyssa squeezed tighter. “It was way better that it happened to me than you. We can definitely have a good laugh over this by the time I’m, like, 150.” When they let go of one another, she smiled at her friend. “Come on, we have a ball to get back to. And you have a prince to dazzle.”

“Oh, you guys go on ahead. I need a minute to straighten up.”

Drake, Alyssa, and Maxwell headed back inside while Riley spent a few minutes in the bathroom wiping away the dust off her dress and getting her hair back in order as best as she could. Plus, she just needed a moment to herself; it was the first time since she woke up that morning that someone wasn’t hovering over her shoulder or trying to impress someone. There also were some major jitters happening knowing the Prince was arriving at any second.

Stepping out a few minutes later, Riley headed back down the hallway, hopeful she still appeared as presentable as when she arrived earlier. 

Dotted along the walls that trailed back to the ballroom were portraits and artwork of kings and queens. Judging by the large periwigs, justaucorps, and stockings over breeches depicted, obviously they were quite old. One particular painting caught her attention enough to halt her steps before she plastered on a naughty grin.

“Ohhhh, what do we have here?” Riley snickered, leaning in closer to get a better glimpse. “I see London, I see France, I see a very hung King without his pants.” She fanned a hand in front of her face and spoke as if she were Scarlett O’Hara herself. “My, my, my, Fabian, I haven’t seen a lot of those, but I do declare, you put all the Yanks I’ve been with to shame. I’d be remiss to not ask if you were generous enough to pass on certain sizable traits, say to … Oh, I don’t know, the current Crown Prince?”

“Frankly, my dear … I don’t think he gave a damn,” a deep voice quipped over her shoulder.

Riley spun around, her body crashing into the portrait and causing it to rattle against the wall and lean heavily. Her face burned red-hot as soon as she heard his voice, even though every ounce of blood in her body seemed to rush to her wobbly feet. Liam reached out, grasping hold of her arms to brace her as she stared back, slack-jawed and weak-kneed, at his half-masked face, smiling warmly. “L-L-Li --”

“My sincerest apologies if I startled you, my lady. Are you okay?”

Her throat was dry, and surely no one in all history had ever been as embarrassed as she was at that moment, but she managed to answer feebly, “I think … I pissed my pants.” They both looked down at the floor simultaneously, relief washing over them that there were no puddles. Riley closed her eyes and let out a heavy breath. “Oh, thank God.”

Liam chuckled, his twinkling blue eyes glued to her flustered face. “You’re just as beautiful as you were that night in New York, Riley Brooks.”

“Wait … you know that it’s me? Are you surprised? Are you upset? Do you think I’m some creepy stalker now? I swear I’ve never even touched a weapon.”

“Really? What happened to your bag of Chinese throwing stars?” Liam teased lightheartedly. Riley tilted her head in confusion. “You remember, the ones you were going to throw at me in the alley outside of your bar --”

“Oh. Yes. Right,” she laughed awkwardly as the memory came to her. “Yeah, I may have embellished the truth there a bit. Twenty-pound hams seem to be more my weapon of choice.” Riley hung her head. Why the hell did I just tell him that? When Bastien cleared his throat and gave Liam a pointed look, Riley knew their time was short. “I know you have to go, but I just need to know something: How did you know I was here? Maxwell tried to get in touch with you and never heard back. I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me showing up here.”

“I’ve been quite busy since leaving New York with preparations for the social season and the Masquerade kicking off this evening. But it was Drake who came pounding on my door this morning to fill me in. You can imagine my surprise when he told me that you were here, and, I quote, ‘brought her small aggressive friend with her as guard dog.’”

Riley smirked with a shrug. “Can ya blame a girl? I came to win. Besides, I really like you, Liam.”

He smiled. “I really like you too, Riley. But this isn’t New York. As much as I wish we could just pick up where we left off two nights ago, this entire series of events is set up not just to give me time with my potential matches, but also to give my parents, the Council, and the people of Cordonia time to get to know the future queen. From now on, everyone will be watching you and ... Lady Alyssa.” Liam paused to chuckle and shake his head in amusement. “You actually got your friend to pose as a fake suitor and somehow convinced an honorable and highly dignified member of the court to sponsor her?”

“Yeaaaah, I still don’t know how the hell I did that. I should get extra points for my manipulation skills”

Liam laughed. "I believe you mean, negotiation skills."

Riley nodded. "Yeah, those too."

Already well past the time to make his grand entrance, Bastien approached Liam to give the final warning. Liam acknowledged him and turned back to Riley. “I hope I’ll see you again later tonight, if you’ll save a dance for me. But until then …” He pressed her willing body against the wall, tracing the back of his forefinger along her velvety cheek. “ … just know how very, very, happy I am to have you here, Riley.” His lips were fire and ice when he leaned down to meet her equally fevered ones in a lingering kiss. And she melted right into him.

With that, Liam was whisked away by the head guard and made his way into the ballroom. As a panting Riley brushed her fingertips over the tingling in her bottom lip, she felt so many things all at once: relief that he was happy she was there and already knew everything regarding Alyssa, and that same exhilarating bliss that swept her off her feet two days ago when they shared their time together. But he was abundantly clear, this wasn’t New York anymore, and he still had a duty and obligation to Cordonia regardless of his apparent feelings for her. 

Riley let a puff of air and pushed her backside off the wall to return inside. Just as she did this, the crooked frame bearing the likeness of the late King Fabian she admired earlier fell from its hook and crashed to the floor, causing the ancient glass to shatter beside her. With her head shrunken into her shoulders, Riley slowly peeked out one eye and saw the damage. Glancing down one end of the hall to the other to see if anyone saw her, she glanced down at the shards and still fully intact artwork. Normally she would have hightailed it out of there, but she couldn’t help herself from giving her destruction parting words. 

“I guess you’re not … hung anymore.”

Then she bolted the hell out of there.

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

Fearless tags: @dcbbw​​ @ao719​​  @texaskitten30​​ @janezillow​ @mskaneko​  @callmeellabella​ @queenjilian​ @sirbeepsalot​  @forthebrokenheartedthings​ @bebepac​ @kingliam2019​  @amandablink​  @choiceskatie​ @annekebbphotography​ @ofpixelsandscribbles​ @alyssalauren​ @mom2000aggie​  @princessleac1​ @kimmiedoo5​ @graceful-leah​ @thegreentwin​ @gkittylove99​  @pink-diamond13​ @tinkie1973​ @queenrileyrose​ @zaffrenotes​ @no-one-u-know​ @sammie0220​ @shanzay44​ @yourmajesty09​  @bitchloveskcbaseball​ @kat-tia801​ @openheart12​ @drakeandkatherine​ @marshmallowsandfire​ @masterofbluff​ @marshmallowsaremyfavorite​ @msjr0119​ @hopelessromanticmonie​ @sanchita012 @gabesmommie1130​ @charlotteg234​ @jessiembruno​ @debramcg1106​ @neotericthemis​ @iaminlovewithtrr​ @sweetest-marbear​ @darley1101​ @choicesstan650​ @shewillreadyou​ @emkay512​ @txemrn​ @lucy-268​ @axwalker​ @busywoman​

[marvelsbetch]

Peter Parker’s field trip. Part 1

Warnings: Trans!Peter, Spidypool, sex references, superfamily, transphobia, supportive avengers

Tony POV

I was in my lab waiting for Peter, my newly adopted son, to come home from school when Friday told me I had an email from Peters school. Turning to my phone I opened the email and was completely annoyed. The email read

'Dear Parent/Carer of Patricia Parker,

We are delighted to inform you that we have a surprise field trip for the student to none other than Stark Laboratories. The trip with be a residential starting on March 7th with a trip to Stark Tower, staying the night there with Mr Tony Stark-Rodgers and then having a trip to the Avengers Tower where we will have the opportunity to meet the Avengers and ask them questions. This is a once in a life time opportunity and we hope you allow your daughter to attend. Also, we would like to keep the trip as a surprise for the student so we urge you not to tell them the destinations of the trip.

Yours Sincerely,

Mrs Robbins.'

I was livid. My child Peter is a boy. I do not have a daughter I have a son. I couldn't believe the nerve of this teacher so I stormed out of my lab and in to the main living area of the penthouse and saw my handsome husband lay on the couch watching tv. He looked so calm and collected but I feel this might change.

"Honey, I just got this email from Peters school that I think you should have a look at." I told him handing him my phone.

He looked confused at first but then the anger set in and by time my phone was placed back in my hand he had an evil smirk on his face. I had an idea of why he had that smirk but just to be sure I asked him,

"What's the smirk for?" I asked.

"Tell the teacher our son can go on the trip while I make a few phone calls. Nobody purposely misgenders my son and gets away with it." He is trusted before grabbing his cell phone and walking down the corridor to one of the training room. Probably going to blow off a little steam and anger. Might watch in a little while.

After a second I simply responded to the email stating'

I as Peters legal guardian allow my son to attend this field trip. Is there any additional information that we should be aware of?' It seemed like the appropriate response.

In all honesty I had Pepper invite the school to the towers as a reward for how well they did at the decathlon competition. I was not expecting to receive an email like this.

-5 hours later-

Peter arrived home shortly after the email incident and was greeted to everyone being in the room. Everyone being Me, Cap, Bucky, Nat, Banner, Pepper, Sam, T'Challa, Shuri, Rhodey, Wanda, Vision, Thor, Loki, Clint and Strange along with the Guardians on a Skype call on the tv. We told him it was a spur of the moment gathering as well all missed each other, not an entire lie, but in reality we were plotting to a) embarrass Peter as much as possible on the field trip and b) get back at the teacher for what they did.

We decided to order enough pizza for an entire 3rd world country and discuss Peter's school life as we ate.

"So Peter, has anyone been giving you trouble lately in School? You can tell us the truth." Steve, Peter's other father and my husband, asked.

"No everything just fine." He terribly lied.

"Come on kid. I've known you for almost two years now, don't try and lie. If there's anyone giving you any type of shit for whatever reason please know that you can tell us." I explained to him all of a sudden getting very serious. I could see him fighting with himself on weather to tell us something or not but decided not to as he then said he had homework to do and went to his room.

"So, he's either lying or the teacher isn't as bad as we think." Loki observed.

"No, he was lying. I could feel his conflict and pain in remembrance of what people have said to him. I'm not one for violence but someone needs to pay for what he's been dealing with." Wanda told us with tears in her eyes.

Cap and Barton walked over to comfort her and hopefully stop her crying. My blood started boiling, Wanda was a strong person and if what Peter's going through brings her to tears then that's a lot for one person to go through. What else has this teacher or student done? Why won't he tell us? Does he not trust us? That last question broke my heart.

"Baby, you okay?" I hear Steve ask moving towards me and holding both my hands in his.

"No. I'm pissed. I'm pissed at any one who hurt my son. I'm pissed at us for not making sure he knows he can talk to us. And I'm pissed at the world for making his go through all of this." I told him with tears coming to my eyes.

Steve pulled me close to my chest and held me tight. He stroked his hands through my hair as he tried to calm me down. I could tell he was mad to, we all were, but he was trying to hold it in despite everyone being here to essentially punish this teacher was his idea. Embarrassing Peter was mine.

"Right, so what do we do about this? I'm not letting anyone hurt my nephew and get away with it." Nat said sitting up and pulling a knife from who knows where to sharped her nails. That women scares me so much.

"How about we just drop in during the day and make sure one of us is always with him. If he has one of us always there and we make it apparent that we know and support him the I doubt even someone as bigoted as his teacher is going to say something. Then we can embarrass him when we're with him." Sam suggested.

"I like that. Where are we all going to be stationed?" Loki asked.

"Well if I speak to the tour guide I could get Banner to give them a lesson on Gamma radiation as the first. Then, Barton or somebody drops in. After that they will be taken to a different lab with Shuri and T'Challa. By that time it should be lunch where Thor and Loki could drop in and the guardians land near the level 7 outside cafeteria. Then we can have Sam drop some stuff from above like a water balloon or something and Bucky bake his favourite cookies to bring to him. After Lunch they're looking around some other labs where Shuri could also be along with Banner. I think they're also going to be visiting the training rooms so Nat, Cap, Bucky and T'Challa could be fighting and Wanda, Vision and Strange could be training their magic." I suggested feeling better now that we were planning this.

March 6th

-Peter's POV-

I was in Chemistry faintly heading the teacher, Mrs Robbins, drone on and on about ionic bonding and how it differs to covalent bonding. It was something I already knew so I didn't need to listen until Ned started hitting my arm. Turning to look at him he simply nodded to the direction of the teacher. I turned around just to catch two words that made my heart drop.

"-Field trip!" Our teacher cheered with a big smile on her face.

Field trip? To where and why?

"That's right, we have organised a surprise field trip for you all as a reward for how well you've all done on your recent exams. Only the top 20 student of the entire school will have the privilege of going. The destination will be a surprise but I will say to bring an overnight bag and money for food and such. You're parents have already got an email consenting for your attendance and the bus will be leaving at 8am tomorrow so don't be late." She further explained.

The whole surprise field trip thing made me nervous beyond all belief. I may not technically be a Parker anymore but the luck definitely followed me and the idea of having to go on an overnight field trip made me terrified. Also, our parents got an email. This means that either Dad (Tony) or Pops (Steve) knew about this probably weeks ago and didn't tell me, this only fulled my anxiety.

Soon the bell went signalling the end of the day and our temporary liberation from this educational prison. On the way out Mrs Robins pulled me aside. It confused me at first until she put our most recent test infront of me. My name circled in big red circles, I know what's about to happen.

"Patricia, you must stop this. You're name is not Peter, you're not a boy. You were born a girl and therefore are, there is no picking and choosing with what God gave you. You must understand this by now. This little joke has gone too far that you're name has been requested to change on our register. Get it through you're head that you are not a boy and you will go to hell for thinking otherwise. One more incident like this and you'll have detention for the rest of the year. Got it?" She basically shouted at me pointing to my circled name on the test.

"No. My name is Peter and I am a boy, I don't care what God assigned me because he got it wrong. I am a boy and my name is Peter as we have gotten it legally changed." I rebutted getting impatient with her ignorance.

"Don't speak to me like that young man. You have no right to change Gods idea and destiny for you. Just thing, you're a girl meaning you can have kids and spread God's message to others and have many kids. Just what God planned for all women." She told me trying to sound sweet but came off and incredibly patronising.

At this point I was too angry to listen to her bulls**t (Gotta keep it Steve friendly people) so I stormed out the room. She started yelling for me to come back to the classroom but I didn't listen and continued walking till I reached the car Happy was in to take me home.

I got in the car and started telling Happy about my day while playing classic songs on my phone such as Highway to Hell, You gave love a bad name and Living on a Prayer. He pretended like he didn't care but I could tell he was listening and hanging onto every word I was saying. I love that about Happy, he acts like he doesn't care but in reality he does and he does a lot. He once caught Flash saying stuff about me and threatened to hit him with the car, he almost did as well but we were running late to a meeting I had to go to with Dad. Of course that didn't stop Flash as he still likes to torment me daily but he now does it more secretly making it more bearable.

We soon made it home and I found all of my dysfunctional family,minus the guardians who were on a Skype call, sat in the living room watching a movie on the tv. I quickly set my bag down on the kitchen island and settled right next to Tony (Dad) who was cuddling Cap (Pops). Everyone was asking me questions about my day and school life in general. They focused mostly on if people were bullying on me. It worried me a little because as much as I know I can go to them, I don't want to because I know that if I tell them everything that's happened they'll kill people and I don't want that for my family. Half of them only just got pardoned and I don't want the governments to revoke that.

"Sorry guys but I got homework. The pizza was delicious, is it okay if I invite Wade around?" I pleaded with Pops knowing he's more likely to say yes.

"Yes but that door stays open hound man. Do I make myself clear?" Pops asked in a stern voice.

"Crystal." I responded before taking out my phone to call Wade, grabbed my bag and walked to my room.

"Hey Baby Boy, what's up?" Wade asked after picking up his phone.

"Not much, Pops said you could come around." I told him making him slightly squeal.

"Okay Baby Boy, I'll be there in 10 minutes. I love you." Wade informed.

"I love you to Babe." I said before hanging up with a smile on my face.

-10 minutes later-

I was sat at my desk finishing my algebra homework when I heard someone knock on the window. Knowing it was Wade I turned with a smile on my face and let him in.

"Hey Baby Boy, how was your day?" Wade asked making himself comfortable on my bed.

"It was fine, quite boring if I'm honest. We did get told about this residential field trip tomorrow though. Sorry I won't be here for most of the weekend. I'm sure my Dads will love having you around." I joked sitting on his lap and cuddling into his chest.

"It's fine Pete. I'll just have to savour our time together now." He said wiggling his eyebrows and kissing me passionately.

"My Pops said to keep the door open." I told him pulling away with a massive blush spread across my cheeks.

"Does that rule apply to your en-suite?" Wade asked.

"I don't believe so." I answered getting up from his lap and dragging him into my en-suite, which is where we stayed for the rest of the night.

To be continued...

[because-of-a-friend]

Boyfriend!Mingyu Fluff

MASTERLIST

Coups | Jeonghan | Joshua | Jun | Hoshi | Wonwoo | Woozi | DK | Mingyu | Minghao | Seungkwan | Vernon | Dino

Thanks for the request @ajusquishy​ !!! I really hope you like it, thanks again for all the compliments on my writing! Feel free to request more! Reminder to everyone that this is a series I only do by request so if there’s one I haven’t written that you want, just request it! (Sorry this one took longer, I had long shifts at work and forgot I promised to do favors for some people)

You and Mingyu have been best friends almost your whole lives

You both met in elementary school

You were in different classes but the whole school got lunch and recess at the same time

You meet each other on the playground

And Gyu being the big puppy that he is, immediately starts whining to you about how he hasn’t made any friends in his class

And you eventually admit that you haven’t either

And then you quietly ask Mingyu if he wants to be friends

And he immediately hugs you and proclaims that he’ll love you forever

And you two have been friends ever since

You know that character trope everyone loves?

Gentle giant befriends a defensive person who’d kill anyone who so much as looks at the gentle giant the wrong way?

That’s you and Gyu 

He’s all fully trusting of others and bright smiles and sunshine and flowers 

And you’re all 

“That person said what to you??? I’m gonna go beat them up”

Truthfully most of your high school days are Mingyu dragging you away to stop you from fighting anyone who’s mean to him

But really since Mingyu is so trusting of everyone he meets 

You really have been taking care of him since you met him

Warding off people who try to take advantage of him, helping him with the favors he couldn’t say no to, and comforting him when his feelings get hurt

Usually you’re happy to do all of that for him because you care about Gyu so much and honestly you’d do anything for him

But one time your teacher asks Mingyu to help round up volunteers for garbage pickup 

And on the weekend you were planning to go to the beach with other friends

You get stuck on the side of the highway helping Gyu and your teacher pickup trash

You never let him live that one down

But even when you’ve graduated high school and started your 20s 

You’re still happy to help Mingyu with what he needs

It’s a bit different now with you being in university and Mingyu being an idol

But you’re also both so much more grown up and mature and understanding that it’s not just the two of you against the world anymore

You’ve made more friends and Mingyu has the boys

Who are all incredibly happy you’re around btw

Especially Coups who sometimes finds being a leader to twelve really stressful and is incredibly happy that Mingyu has someone to depend on even when he gets busy

But aside from all of that, not a lot changes between you and Gyu

Except

“Honestly, Woozi, I don’t know what I’d do without them, [Y/N]’s the kindest person I’ve ever met and I feel like they made me who I am and I honestly can’t even imagine life without them”

“It sounds like you’re in love with them Gyu”

And Mingyu’s like

*white guy blinking gif*

And he realizes that oh

He definitely is in love with you

And after that he’s just 

Suffering™

Because he is so completely infatuated with you

And you’re just like 

Oblivious™

And he starts convincing himself that you don’t feel the same way

“You don’t know until you tell them, though, Gyu.”

So Mingyu decides he’s gonna tell you

He hypes himself up

Dresses up really nice

Practices a speech in the mirror

Tries to ignore Seungkwan and Hoshi walking in every once in awhile to tease him

And heads over to your place 

And when he walks in

You’re...

Packing???

“Oh hey Gyu, I have big news”

He doesn’t want to assume the worst but he can feel his heart sink down to his feet

“You know that summer internship I applied for? The one abroad? I got it!”

You squeal excitedly and grab Gyu’s arms as you jump up and down

“Can you believe it? The whole summer overseas, interning at my dream job!!!”

“No, I can’t...”

“What are you so dressed up for? Do y’all have something important scheduled today?”

“Oh, uh, yeah”

“Bummer, I was gonna force you to help me pack”

Mingyu is distressed when he gets back home

What if he tells you and you get into a relationship but it starts off long distance and it’s too much and your relationship ends before it can even begin?

What if he doesn’t tell you and you meet someone while you’re there and it’s over for him?

He just lays face down in his bed the rest of the day, groaning and pulling at his hair

When the day comes for you to leave, he drives you to the airport

“Remember the time change when you try to call me, and make sure to keep me updated on how that new song is going, and tell Hoshi I said to be a little nicer when he’s teaching you the choreo and...”

You stop in your rant when you see Mingyu’s forlorn face

“Hey, it’s only three months-”

“Three months and two weeks” he pouts

“Three months and two weeks” you roll your eyes “But it’ll be over before you know it, I’ll be home soon!”

He nods before pulling you into a tight tight tight hug 

And you start to pull away but he just grabs onto you tighter so you just let him hold you for a minute

“I made you some snacks and stuff for the plane ride”

He hands you a bag before sending you off towards your gate

He waves until he can’t see you anymore

To be honest, you don’t really look inside the bag until you’ve already landed and reached the hotel you’re staying in

It’s because you know you’ll miss home and you wanted to have that with you when you were so far away 

So you pull out Mingyu’s snacks and chow down

Then you look through the bag to find the other things he packed

An extra pair of headphones bc you always forget yours

Some face masks

Other odds and ins

And a letter

You put the letter to the side, deciding to only read it when you really miss home

Which happens half way through your internship

You get back to your hotel room absolutely exhausted, thinking about how you’ve only made it halfway through

And you really really want to go home

Your employers told you they’d give you some time off

But you’re not sure you’re gonna take them up on their offer

You turn over in your bed and reach around to find the letter Mingyu had written you

You stare at your name written in his handwriting for a bit before opening it

It’s mostly a pretty standard letter

He tells you how much he’ll miss you

How great he thinks you’ll do at your internship

How nervous he is for their comeback

“I’ll give it my all but it won’t be the same since my heart will be across the sea”

You reread it five times thinking you must be misinterpreting it

But nope there it is

You decide to take the vacation days

Mingyu is nothing short of surprised when you show up to the dorm halfway through the summer

“Well you’re back early” 

“Oh I’m just here on my time off”

“Why’d you come here for your time off?? You were abroad, there were places you could’ve seen and-”

“Mingyu, I’m in love with you”

He stops dead in his tracks

“What?”

“I don’t think I realized it until I read your note but... I love you”

Time stops for Mingyu 

He doesn’t even realize it until

“Usually when people tell you they love you, some sort of response is expected”

“Oh right sorry”

He steps forward towards you and looks over your face

He forces you to look at him by pinching your chin between two fingers and guiding your face towards his

“I love you too”

Then he presses his lips softly against yours and kisses you slowly

As it turns out the long distance isn’t so bad once you go back to your internship 

You call as much as you can and send each other gifts

And once you get back

You two are inseparable

Like still the same duo as always

But with a lot more fluff added on top

Just smothering each other with affection

Constantly

“Mingyu please, [Y/N] has their own place, can’t y’all be gross and mushy there instead of at the dorm???”

“Quiet maknae”

Mingyu is elated to be your boyfriend

Like honestly he’s been waiting for this his whole life

He’s kind of clingy in a cute way

Every time you two see each other at the end of the day he runs to you to hug you and greet you

Since you two were already with each other 24/7 before you started dating

Your relationship is really easy

You know how to navigate arguments with each other well

You know each other’s habits

And favorite things

It was already a perfect situation with a beautiful love added on top

Mingyu isn’t always super open about his feelings

But sometimes at night when it’s super late

He’ll lay next to you and play with your hands as he quietly whispers his deepest feelings to you

You always take him seriously at times like this so he knows he can trust you and that he’s safe with you always

Like Hoshi, he’s a bit of a crier at times like this

He’s just so utterly happy to be with someone who cares for him so much and makes him feel so loved

So he can’t help but tear up when he tells you he loves you

Usually it’s during your late night talks

But sometimes it happens in the middle of the day

You’ll just be talking about something or cleaning the kitchen or doing something to entertain yourself and you’ll look over

And Mingyu will have a pout on his face and tears in his eyes

And you’re like ??????

“Babe what’s the matter???”

“I just love you a lot”

Cue the giant puppy pushing himself into your arms and burying his face in your neck

You two switch on being the little spoon quite often bc you both like being held by the other

There are some nights when you both want to be the little spoon and you’ll try to stand your ground but then he’ll act cute to convince you to let him be it

Cue knocking on the wall next to the bed

“Mingyu, [Y/N], please remember that this is a dorm housing twelve other people that don’t want to hear your disgustingly cute argument over who gets to be the little spoon”

“Oh god, Hoshi hyung, you heard that???”

Hoshi is bitter that y’all kept him up

But not bitter for his new material to blackmail Mingyu with lol

But you’re not the only one taking care of Mingyu

Mingyu does lots to take care of you

He remembers your allergies bc sometimes you forget and almost eat something that might set off a reaction

He’ll slap it out of your hand like you do when a baby picks something up off the floor and tries to put it in their mouth lol

When you’re stressed from classes he’ll stay up all night with you until you finish your homework

Even if he can’t help you with it, he’ll keep you company until it’s done

And he’ll make you lots of yummy food while you’re working on it

When you’re upset he’ll hold you while you cry/silently mull it over/rant about what’s happening

And he’ll massage your back and pet your head

Buys you lots of cheesy couple gifts

“Look [Y/N]! I bought us couple plushies for when I leave on tour”

“He stole that idea from me by the way”

“Shut UP maknae”

But he’s willing to do anything to make you happy

Like how you are for him

You two have a one in a million love story

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Somebody I Used To Know

Summary: Months into the end of the world, the reader helps out a mysterious man she’s never seen before. He asks her to meet up with him where she learns she used to know him better than anyone...

Pairing: Endverse!Dean x reader

Square: Endverse!Dean

Word Count: 2,800ish

Warnings: language, slight danger, angst, eventual fluff

A/N: Written for @spndeanbingo​​

_______

The Croat hit the pavement hard, the guy on the ground looking back at you as he got to his feet. You turned your gun on him, the man staring as you both heard the echoes of running in the distance.

“Either shoot me and get it over with or let’s go,” he said. You lowered your gun and took off running, the man catching up quickly. He went with you down the street before he started to veer off to the left.

“You won’t make it,” you said, going to the other side of the street and opening your jeep door. You spotted the truck in the distance that was probably his. He looked at it and then you and you sighed. You drove over and he hopped on the step up, grabbing onto the top rack. You drove over to the truck and he climbed off, quickly getting in as you both saw a swarm of Croats fill the street.

“Highway 12. Mile marker 108. One hour,” he called out through his window before he took off the other direction. You headed West and drove out of town, finding a quiet parking lot to sit and think in.

Going to meet a stranger by yourself was fifteen kinds of stupid. Even if you were packing. It could have been a trap for your gear or your jeep. Or you. You reached into your glovebox and took out a map, finding the spot the guy had wanted to meet. It wasn’t a very good ambush point, not much cover around on an open stretch of highway.

He was the first person you’d seen in months that didn’t want to actively kill you though which was something. At the very least, if it went bad, you could take his belongings. There was bound to be something useful in there.

One Hour Later

“I didn’t know if you’d come,” said the man as you stepped out of your jeep. You were the only two vehicles around and the swampy fields on either side didn’t make for a good hiding spot. 

“Wasn’t so sure myself,” you said, your hand resting on your thigh holster, his matching you as he straightened up from where he leaned on his truck.

“You had my back,” he said.

“You looked like you were in trouble,” you said.

“I was. Still am,” he said with a shrug. He moved his hand away from his gun and crossed his arms. “Judging by your ride and the gear I saw in there, you’re on your own too.”

“Who says I’m on my own?”

He looked around and smirked, kicking at the ground.

“I’m Dean. Dean Winchester.”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you said, giving him a nod. “What do you want Dean Winchester?”

“A blueberry pie with a dollop of whip cream on top,” he said, chuckling to himself. “Shit, I miss pie.”

“I’m going now,” you said, a hand on your door already before he started to walk over. He was slow when he approached your jeep, holding up his hands. “I saved you. It’s no big deal.”

“Do you...do you want to come with me?” he asked. 

“Where?”

“It’s kinda far,” he said. You undid the clip on the top of your holster, Dean taking a step back. “I’m not going to hurt you. It’d be a bit hypocritical of me considering you saved my life an hour ago.”

“You don’t trust strangers. Didn’t you learn that in apocalypse 101?” you said.

“You are as sarcastic as ever,” he said, a dry laugh escaping him. Your gun was out and by your side now. “There was a time when you would have died for me.”

“You going Croat on me?” you asked, cocking your gun and raising it up. He shook his head but dropped his hands down. “Up if you don’t want a hole in your shoulder.”

“Y/N…” he sighed but he did hold his hands up again.

“Turn around.”

“January 30th you woke up in Phoenix, Arizona in hospital room 45A at Mercy General with a burn on your lower right back, selective memory loss of the previous ten years and a tattoo on your hip of a star in a ring of fire.”

You swallowed and reached around your back, feeling the scar there. He slowly moved his right hand down and grabbed the back of his jacket and shirt, yanking them up to show his back.

“I got one too, sweetheart,” he said, dropping the clothes over his scar.

“Who the fuck are you?” you said as turned back to face you.

“I was your husband. Soulmate too. It’s not a burn scar. Our bond was literally physically there once after something happened and it left a lasting impression. It’s a long story,” he said as you raised your eyebrows. “Yeah. I know I sound nuts. But how else would I know that crap?”

“Prove that-” you said before he tugged his shirt collar aside and revealed a tattoo just like your own. “Who are you?”

“Dean Winchester. You’re Y/N Winchester. It’s been a while since you’ve been called that is all,” he said.

“I’m not married. I work at Starbucks and I tend bar. I-”

“Your father died when you were thirteen. Everyone told you it was a burglary gone wrong but that never sat right with you. When you were eighteen, you confronted your mom about it. She walked out and called you to meet later on that night. She never showed. Three days later, you got a story she was attacked by a rogue grizzly while hiking. Any of this ringing a bell?”

“I never told anyone I thought my dad didn’t die in that house,” you said. 

“You told me about five years ago.”

“What’s something else I’ve never told anyone?”

“You know your mom killed your dad but you don’t remember why.”

“It’s creepy that you know that,” you said, looking him up and down.

“Your amnesia was related to something...specific. It’s more like memories were wiped clean of certain things. You can remember the past few years. They feel bland is all, right?”

“Are you like this too?” you asked.

“No. I’m the one that had your memory wiped,” he said. Your eyes narrowed and he tilted his head back. “I’m not going to answer why and I’m not telling you what’s gone. If shit weren’t bad, I’d never have come back.”

“What do you mean come back?” you asked.

“Well, when the shit hit the fan and the literal end of the world started, I went looking for you.”

“Why?”

“Cause I’m your husband, dumbass,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

“Well if I’m not insane and what you said is true, I think the relationship ended when you wiped my memory, don’t you think?” you said. “I was out screwing a guy two months after I got out of the hospital.”

He dropped his gaze down, taking a deep breath before he forced his head up.

“Shit. You really do love me,” you said.

“Yeah. I do,” he said.

“I was kinda lying about the screwing thing. I wanted to see your reaction,” you said.

“Don’t do that again,” he said but you saw the flash of relief on his face. “I know it sounds crazier than Croat crazy.”

“Yeah. All evidence points to you telling the truth though,” you said.

“Will you come with me? We can go someplace safe. Take your own ride if it makes you feel more comfortable,” he said.

“Fine. But I don’t care if you do love me. You do something shady, I’m gonna shoot you,” you said.

“Funny. You shot me the night we met. Just like old times,” he said. You blinked a few times and he shrugged. “Good on gas?”

“Half a tank,” you said.

“Top off,” he said, walking over to the back of his truck. He opened the trunk and grabbed a gas can. He set it down on the road and walked back to his driver’s side door. “If we head out now we can get there by night.”

“Alright. Lead the way.”

Eight Hours Later

“Where the fuck am I…” you said to yourself as you drove up a dirt road. You saw Dean stop ahead of you and get out of his truck. He opened up a garage door and hopped back in before he pulled inside. He stepped out and waved you to park behind him. You were hesitant to but part of you trusted him somewhere deep down. You took a breath and pulled in. He locked up the garage as you got out and looked around. “What is this place?”

“It’s where I live. You used to live here too,” he said. You turned your head around and spotted a nice muscle car parked in the corner. “Baby’s not much for an all terrain vehicle unfortunately.”

“I like it,” you said.

“You always did,” he said. “I haven’t been here in a while so hopeful it’s not too much of a mess.”

“Lead the way,” you said. 

“You want me to get your bag for you?” he asked. You shook your head and crossed your arms.

“Let’s see how this goes first,” you said. He nodded and went down a short flight of stairs, opening a door. You followed after, finding yourself in a set of hallways.

“Y/N?” said a voice behind you. You spun around with your gun out, aiming straight at a giant of a man, his hands up. “Shit, it’s Sam. Don’t shoot me.”

“She doesn’t know who you are,” said Dean. “Y/N, this is Sam. He’s my little brother.”

“Anybody else live here I should know about?” you said, lowering your gun, not yet returning it to it’s holster.

“Our friends, Cas and Jack, do sometimes but they’re not in. They’re out working on something,” said Dean. “Just us here.”

“Fine,” you said. You put your gun away, Sam dropping his hands to his sides. 

“I’ll uh, show you around,” said Dean. “Sammy, maybe you can get my stuff from my truck for me?”

“Sure. Y/N, good to see you,” said Sam as he headed up into the garage. 

“Y/N,” said Dean when you stared after him. “Let’s check out where you can keep your stuff, okay?”

“After you.”

“How you doing?” you heard Sam ask Dean later on in the night as you roamed the halls. You paused around a corner and heard a sigh from the other side. 

“Surprised you’re not telling me I told you so,” said Dean. “You told me how wiping her memories was one of the lowest things I’ve ever done.”

“It wasn’t your choice to make. But I understand why you did it. I should never have said that,” said Sam.

“You were right. I’m lucky she’s even alive. If I hadn’t done that, she would have been so much safer when the world went to shit.”

“You can’t predict the future, Dean,” said Sam. “You were trying to protect her.”

“It all still went bad,” said Dean. “All I did was make her more vulnerable. I don’t know what to do.”

“You could tell her the truth.”

“She’ll think I’m nuts.”

“She seems to believe the you wiping her memories part. If she can believe that, she can probably handle the rest. Think about it. Croats are real. A year ago people would have thought this was insane. The way I see it, you’ve been out there a long, long time looking for her. If you want her to stay, you have got to tell her everything,” said Sam.

“What if she wants to leave then? It’s safe here,” said Dean.

“You have to respect her right to choose. You took that from her last time. Let her have it now,” said Sam.

“I know,” said Dean quietly. “It’s just...I know I hurt her when I did that. I could live with it though because she didn’t know. She was starting to have a good normal life. Then this happened and I hurt her for nothing. I made it worse. When I tell her, all I’m going to end up doing is hurt her again. She doesn’t deserve that. She never did.”

“Dean. The only problem you ever had when it came to Y/N was you loved her. It’s fine to want to protect her. But sometimes, you have to let people you love get hurt. You can’t protect them from everything. When that happens, they want you there to help them heal. You owe her the truth, De...and to cut yourself a break. You wanted better for her. There’s nothing wrong with that. Let her pick what better is though. It’s her life, not yours.”

“I’ll talk to her in the morning. We had a long day,” said Dean. “Thanks.”

“Night,” said Sam. You quickly headed back towards the room you were staying in. You heard Dean go past in the hall outside and round the corner, a door shutting in the distance. A few minutes later you wandered over to his room and knocked on the wood.

“Yeah?” he said. You pushed it open and saw him sitting on the edge of the bed in a shirt and pair of boxers. “Do you need something, Y/N?”

“I sort of heard you and Sam just now,” you said. He nodded and looked down to his lap. “I don’t know you anymore. I don’t know what we used to talk about or how we used to. I don’t know why you did what you did. But I do know I felt something the second I saw you. I know that you made a mistake and I know you did it to protect me. I know I’ll forgive you for it too.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because you tried to help me. I won’t be mad at you for that,” you said.

“I took away your memories and I don’t think I can get them back,” he said.

“I guess you’re just gonna have to get me to fall in love with you a second time then,” you said. He stared at you and you stepped inside, sitting beside him. “You did it once. It shouldn’t be too hard the second.”

“You don’t even know me and you’re still...you,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“I think it’s my choice, Dean.”

“But why? I thought you didn’t trust me.”

“You love me. You went looking all that way for me to make sure I was safe, in the middle of the end of the world. You don’t do that for people you don’t care about,” you said.

“If you change your mind, it’s okay. I understand,” he said.

“Okay,” you said. You took one of the hands in his lap and held it, Dean turning his head. “Don’t count on it though.”

“Alright,” he said as he ran his thumb over your skin. “It’s late. You should head to bed. I’m sure you haven’t slept on a mattress in a long time.”

“I haven’t,” you said. You leaned back and shut your eyes. “Feels good.”

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” he said. “I know I’m a stranger.”

“I know. I want to if that’s alright,” you said. He hummed and lay back himself. “I like that picture over there. On your dresser.”

He was quiet and you opened your eyelids, glancing over at him as he looked at you.

“We look happy,” you said.

“We were,” he said.

“Maybe someday we can get back to that,” you said. You smiled and he returned it. “Thanks for coming to make sure I was okay.”

“Always, sweetheart. Always.”

_______

[flannels-and-fannypacks]

WTWT: The Sequel | Part 5/5 [Reggie Peters]

pairing: reggie peters x fem!reader

word count: 7.7k

warnings: angst, swearing

a/n: our last part to our sequel!!! from the bottom of mimi and my hearts we would like to thank you all for reading and commenting, reblogging, and sending memes. it honestly means the world to us, truly. we love you all! thank you again! -- drea :)

◤━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◥

Reggie drummed his fingers against his lap as he waited on the porch swing. You told him to wait outside while you got ready, but Reggie wasn’t too fond of the mosquitoes he had for company.

Finally, after about five bug bites later, you joined Reggie, hood up and covering your face.

Reggie turned to face you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You alright, Cookie?” he asked. He tried to pull down your hood, only for you to swat his hand away. “Okay, Cookie you’re scaring me now. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you squeaked.

“That doesn’t seem like nothing, you won’t even show your face-”

You abruptly pulled down your hoodie, showing your face to Reggie. There wasn’t anything wrong, necessarily, but you had a full face of makeup. Reggie couldn’t help but smile. From shoulders up, you looked like a bride. But from the bottom down, you were just his Cookie.

“Nana wanted to practice makeup again,” you whined. “Something about “being the perfect bride,” Flicka what does that even mean?”

Reggie only stared back at you, completely enamored with your smile and sparkling eyes. It was as though he were in a daze, lost in your eyes. He wanted to marry you right there.

“Flicka?” you repeated. “Did you hear me? Do you have something to do with Nana’s oddball behavior lately?”

Reggie’s face turned red. Earl told Tamara his plan last week, and the old woman hadn’t been subtle in the slightest. She had even gone as far as to show you pictures of homes for sale near the area, claiming that the guest rooms “could be a nursery.” It took everything in Reggie to not stuff her face with scones.

“Honestly no idea,” Reggie lord. “Come on, we’ll stop and get some make up wipes on the way,”

“You’re a saint,” you grinned, pressing a kiss to Reggie’s lips and giggled when you saw the cherry red mark it left. “I think Nana might need some better lipstick,”

He looked at you confused and you took your hand and wiped away his bottom lip with your thumb.

“There that’s better. It smudged a bit,”

Reggie was completely googly eyed looking at you. That smile got him every single time.

He took your face in his hands and pressed a smacking kiss to your forehead.

“I love you Cookie, come on, let’s head out,”

Reggie led you to the car he had rented prior, opening the passenger door for you. You sent him a pointed look.

“Just because I look like a fairy tale book vomited over my face doesn’t mean you have to treat me like a princess,” you deadpanned. “I’m more than capable of opening the door by myself.”

Reggie chuckled, leaning against the door. “You’re right,” he agreed. “You should be treated like a queen, because you’re my queen.”

Rolling your eyes, you entered the car. “What’s with all the sappy comments, Flicka?” you asked as he made his way to his side of the car. “Not that I don’t like them, but I’m getting a whole bunch of comments for a person that looks like a living Barbie doll.”

Reggie only pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I’m just in a sappy mood today,” he shrugged his shoulders. “My apologies, your majesty. And besides, you don’t even look that bad. I think Tamara did a good job on your makeup.”

“You’re only saying that to stay on her good side.”

“You know me so well,” he teased. “Now, come on, let’s get going.”

The ride wasn’t too long, and to be perfectly honest you weren’t even sure where he was taking you. You didn’t even know if he knew the area well enough to drive anywhere without getting lost.

“Are you sure you’re going the right way,”

“Positive, you can’t miss it,” Reggie grinned when he hit the highway. He was grateful when you nodded, not asking any further questions.

Wordlessly, you turned on the radio. As you hummed along to the music, it wasn’t until you started singing when Reggie registered the lyrics and recognized the song.

“You got a fast car, I want a ticket to anywhere…”

Reggie turned his head to see you singing softly as you watched cars drive by. Reggie couldn’t help but smile as he drove towards an exit. As the song continued, he found his hand drop down to your knee, squeezing it tightly. He hadn’t heard your singing voice in so long, he forgot what it sounded like. But as soon as you started singing, it all felt familiar to him again. Every word, every dance in your bedroom at night, every memory.

Your voice was beautiful in his opinion. Angelic, even. Reggie recalled sleepovers in your room when you’d sing along to whatever was playing on the radio. Even when Reggie was too shy to sing or dance, you always pulled him out of his shell. Funny how now, things were the opposite.

“You know,” Reggie mused. “I’m still holding you to it.”

You stopped singing, turning your head in confusion. “Hold me to what?”

Reggie smiled knowingly. “Hold you to singing at one of our gigs,” he explained.

“When did I say I’d do that?” you asked curiously. “Was I drunk? If I was drunk it doesn’t count,” you said adamantly.

“Nope you were 100% sober,” Reggie chuckled. “Come on Cookie, you’ve got such a gorgeous voice, and it would be so much fun,”

“Mm, I don’t think so,” you said stubbornly. “If anything, I’m average. You’re the musician in this relationship.”

Reggie glanced over at you once the car rolled to a stop at the stoplight. “I think you’re amazing at everything you do, Cookie.”

Rolling your eyes, you took his hand off your knee and kissed it gently. “I think there’s a little bias in that statement, Flicka. You’re just required to say that because you sleep next to me each night.”

Reggie laughed. “While that may be true,” he admitted truthfully. “And I definitely don’t want to be murdered in my sleep by the girl I love most in my life...” You snorted, shoving Reggie to hide the blush on your cheeks. “I do think you have a whole bunch of talent, no bias.”

“Definitely biased,” you shot back in a sing-songy tone.

“You’re a dork, Cookie,” he laughed, turning down a street.

Rolling your eyes, you looked out the window. “Where are we going, anyway?”

“If I tell you, it would ruin the surprise,” he told you. “We’re almost there anyway, so just wait.”

Reggie kept driving until he hit another exit, driving through the valley all the way until you saw the brightly coloured lights accompanied by jolly music.

“No way!” you grinned. “How did you know this was happening?!”

“Little birdie told me,” he grinned.

“My dad?”

“Yeah your dad,” he nodded.

As soon as Reggie parked on the side of the road, you grabbed his face, peppering kisses all over him. “Have I told you how much I loved you, Flicka?” you asked giddily.

“Yes, but I don’t get tired of hearing it,” he grinned, “Come on let’s go,”

You nodded and opened the car doors, leaving the vehicle and heading excitedly to the fair.

“We should go on all the rides first,” you quickly said, “And then stop by all the food stands,”

“Oh my God Cookie, you’re going to die of a heart attack before we get home,” Reggie told you. “I kind of don’t want to be murdered by your grandparents.”

“Only acceptable way to go, doing what I love,”

“Eating fried food?”

“Yep, and dippin dots,” You nodded, swinging your intertwined hands.

Reggie shook his head, a small smile on his face. “What am I going to do with you,” he murmured.

“Join me in my fried food bliss?” you suggested.

“You know, what maybe I will, can’t kill me if I’m already dead,” he joked and held out his hand for you to take. “Where too first Cookie, you’re the boss,”

“Maybe the ferris wheel, make it like old times?”

Without answering, Reggie quickly pulled you to the line, wrapping his arms around you from behind and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Can we stay like this forever?” you asked.

“I really hope so,” Reggie smiled.

You got lucky and the line moved up quickly and you slid into the seats, placing the safety bar in front of you while the ride whirred up to a start.

“Still afraid of heights, Flicka?” you teased as the ferris wheel began to turn.

Reggie’s face was slightly pale as his hand gripped yours tightly. “Never,” he answered, his voice slightly shaking.

“It’s okay, Flicka,” you laughed. “I’ve got you, knight in shining armor right?”

He nervously laughed, making the mistake of looking down and curled in tighter to you.

Once you reached the top of the ferris wheel, you nudged Reggie’s side. “We’re at the top,” you whispered. “You can open your eyes now.”

Hesitantly, Reggie opened his eyes. From that height, he could see the entire city. “Wow, Penticton is tiny!”

“I know,” you chuckled. “But it’s kind of nice. Easier to know someone in a town than a big city,”

“Here I have a question for you,” he said, turning to look at you and trying to ignore the great height. “If you could live anywhere, in North America,” he said, knowing your answer would be Vienna if he involved the whole world. “Where would it be?”

“I think LA,” you nodded. “Everyone’s there. Well aside from mom and dad, but as much as I love it here and will never get tired of this view, I think LA would be my place to settle,”

Reggie smiled, squeezing your hand affectionately. “I’m glad.” You raised an eyebrow, making Reggie cough awkwardly. “I mean, I’m glad that you think that because I think that, too.”

“What, you don’t want to go back to Wyoming?”

“Not if you’re gonna be in LA, maybe as a retirement plan,” he admitted. “I’ll always want those 30 horses,”

“Maybe we could have a farm one day,” you suggested. “We could name it Flicka’s ranch,”

Reggie chuckled. “Flicka and Cookie’s ranch,” he corrected. “We’re running it together.”

You raised his hand to your lips, kissing it softly. “Of course, Flicka.”

You two stayed in silence, taking in the scenery until your gondola reached the ground. Thanking the ferris wheel operator, you quickly pulled Reggie to the game stands.

“Play a game, sonny,” an older man called over to Reggie. “Want to win a bear for your girlfriend?”

Reggie’s face turned red. “Oh, um we’re not-”

You pressed a kiss to Reggie’s cheek. “I think we’re to a point where we can finally put a label on us,” you winked.

Reggie smiled down at you. “Well, girlfriend, he began teasingly. “Would you like a bear?”

You hummed in thought. “If you get me a horse plushy, I’ll be yours forever,” you replied.

Nodding, Reggie paid for the bean bags, preparing to throw them at the cans. His heart was beating out of his chest. It was no big deal, only his relationship on the line, right?

“Flicka, you look so pale, why are you nervous,” you chuckled, taking his hand in yours and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “You’ll do fine, I love you,”

That was all the assurance Reggie needed to chuck the bean bag, straight into the pile of cans, sending them tumbling down.

He beamed and so did you while the game operator took the horse plushie from the rack and handed it to you.

“For the lovely lady,”

“Thank you,” you grinned. “See Reggie you did-,”

Dangling around the horse’s neck was a necklace, your horseshoe necklace that you had given to Reggie before leaving to Canada. And linked on the silver chain was a small ring, a perfect fit for your finger, you could tell just by looking. It took you a moment, but your eyes finally managed to break their gaze and went to look at Reggie, only to be met with an empty space. You frowned and looked down to see Reggie, kneeling on one knee in front of you.

“Well, um, you willing to keep that promise, Cookie?” he asked.

Your hand flew to your mouth and you took a step back, tears flooding your eyes.

“Shut up,” you whispered. “Flicka, shut up.”

Reggie chuckled at your reaction. “Not exactly the reaction I was expecting,” he joked, making your face turn red. Reggie wiped his hands on his jeans. “Cookie, I-I don’t want to wait for the universe to bring us together, I’m tired of pushing you away. I want to do anything and everything in my power to make you the happiest person alive, because that’s all that matters. I’d give up the entire world for you and wherever you need to be I’m going to be right there with you, I don’t care if it’s Penticton, LA, or some random town in the middle of nowhere Wyoming, as long as I’m with you. Cookie, I-I-I-,” Reggie’s voice cracked and you shook your head, telling him he didn’t need to go on, throwing your arms around his neck and pressing a firm kiss to his lips.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cried once you pulled away. “We’ve had one hell of a life, Flicka. We’ve had too much sadness to last a lifetime. I’m ready Flicka, no more waiting, no more doubt.”

Reggie stood up, pulling you into yet another kiss while spinning you around. He beamed at you, tears streaming down his cheeks as his green eyes sparkled with complete adoration.

“Oh my God we have to tell my parents! Your parents! My grandparents! The guys and Rose!”

“Woah, woah, calm down Cookie,” Reggie laughed. “And I totally agree we should tell the family, but I think you should probably put the ring on, first.”

“Oh my God, yes!” you exclaimed, taking the ring off your necklace and placing it on your ring finger.

“Also, I don’t know about you, but I think after all the lies from the gang, maybe we should have some fun with them too,”

“Flicka I like the way you think,” you grinned mischievously. “See, that’s why I said yes.”

Reggie raised an eyebrow. “Not because you love me?” he asked, feigning hurt.

“Mm, that too, I guess,” you teased. “Okay, now what do you say we just grab a bunch of food and get out of here?”

“And spend the rest of the night with my future wife? Sign me up,” he grinned.

Damn you liked the sound of that.

The ride back home was a blur. You were incredibly giddy, arms full of candy and fried food. You couldn’t stop looking down at your ring, sparkling in the moonlight.

You were engaged. To your childhood best friend, the boy you loved most in your life. For once, everything felt right, and all your worries slowly melted away. All because of Reggie, and you were grateful for that.

When you opened the door to your grandparents home you saw everyone sitting anxiously in the living room, probably already aware of the situation.

“Hey guys,” you greeted awkwardly, trying to slowly ease the topic in.

Tamara stood up abruptly. “Oh, none of that nonsense,” she cut in. “Show me the ring!”

Without letting you take a moment to set your things down, your grandmother grabbed your hand and examined the ring, readjusting her glasses to look closely.

“Nana!” you exclaimed. “Careful!”

“So it’s official?” Eloise asked curiously, standing up from her seat.

“Pretty darn official,” Reggie grinned. “We’re getting married!”

Eloise’s hand flew to her mouth as she tried to hide a few tears of joy. Mateo and Earl both came to give Reggie a pat on the back, now he was one of them and they wished him good luck on that. Being married to a Brandanowitz was no walk in the park.

“I made a special batch of scones just for you guys,” Tamara smiled. “I’ll go grab them, fresh out of the oven,”

“Reggie should you call your parents?” Mateo suggested. “Tell them the good news?”

“Actually yeah,” Reggie nodded. “(N/N) do you want to come? I’m sure they would love to talk to you,”

“Sure, it’s been a while,” you nodded, “Guess Darcy was right after all,”

You gave your mother your things before taking Reggie’s hand and guiding him to downstairs to where the telephone was. Reggie quickly took the phone off the hook, dialing his parents’ number.

“Hello?” a voice finally picked up.

“Hi Mom, Dad,” Reggie greeted with a soft smile. “I, um, wanted to tell you-”

You took the phone from him. “We’re engaged!” you exclaimed into the speaker.

You could hear Diana squeal excitedly. “Oh, honey, I’m so happy for you!” she told you. “Tell me all the details, I want to hear it all.”

Setting yourself down on the sofa, you giddily spilled all the details of your night to Reggie’s mother. The grin on your face made Reggie’s heart do a flip. You were absolutely perfect to Reggie. You’d fit in perfectly in his family, he knew it.

As you continued to talk to Reggie’s parents, your hand found Reggie’s on his lap. Squeezing it tightly, you flashed him a grin.

“I love you,” you mouthed to him before continuing your conversation.

Reggie kissed the corner of your mouth. “I love you, too.”

“Well (Y/N), what did I tell you, it was a when after all,”

“Yeah you were right Darcy,” you chuckled. “And I couldn’t be happier that you were, really. I’m so excited to be a part of your family,”

“And we’re happy to have you in it,” Diana assured you. “You’ve always been like a daughter to us (N/N), and you’ve always been there for Reggie so we couldn’t imagine a better pairing,”

“Thank you,” you said into the phone. “I’m glad to have Reggie in my life. You raised an incredible son, Diana, Dacy.”

Reggie playfully rolled his eyes, leaning his head on your shoulder. “She’s only saying that because she’s on the engagement high,” he joked.

“That’s not even a real term, Flicka,” you shot back. “It’s true. You’re an amazing son and boyfriend. Or should I say fiance?”

“Neither,” he murmured into your neck. “Husband sounds much better, Cookie.”

You flicked his forehead. “We have months of planning first, Flicka. Then I can call you husband all you want, okay?”

Reggie pecked your lips, smiling up at you. “Perfect.”

You heard Diana and Darcy laugh on the other end. “Well, we won’t keep you love birds for too long,” Darcy said. “Have a good night you two.”

“Goodnight,” you chirped back before putting the phone back on the ringer. You let out a deep sigh, falling onto Reggie’s chest as you pushed him down on the couch. “We’re engaged,” you sang into his shirt.

Reggie laughed, placing his hands on your waist. “We are,” he said back.

“You know what that means, right?” Reggie let out a hum in response as you grinned. “I think that means we should get an upgrade on our nicknames.”

Reggie raised an eyebrow. “You don’t like Cookie?”

“Oh no I love it,” you reassured him. “But I think that once we get married, a little change is in order.”

Reggie drummed his fingers against your waist, making you giggle at the ticklish sensation. “Okay then, Cookie, shoot.”

You hummed in thought, biting your lip as you thought. “Well I didn’t think I’d get this far,” you confessed truthfully. “But, I think those cute couple names are nice. Darling, love, Mrs. Peters.”

Reggie sent you a small smile, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Okay, darling,” he kissed you once more. “Love,” and then another kiss. “Mrs. Peters.”

Before you could even process it, you found yourself pushed against the couch as Reggie pressed dozens of kisses all over your face. “Flicka, stop!” you shrieked. “It tickles!”

“Never,” he pressed a kiss to your nose and you squealed.

“Reggie seriously, if you stop I’ll move back to LA with you,”

“W-Wait what?”

That got his attention.

“Well I’d do it even if you didn’t stop. I-I want to go back and if we’re getting married I think there’s no better reason,”

Reggie sat up, you following him. “Really?” he asked. “I thought you wanted to stay here? I-if the reason why you want to go to LA is for me, don’t. I’m willing to stay here and settle down, get a job, buy a cookie factory-”

“A what?” you questioned. You rolled your eyes at Reggie’s flustered expression and decided to continue. “Reggie, I’m not going to force you to stay here and forget everything you love back in California, that’s asking too much of you. Besides,” you cupped the side of his face affectionately. “I want to go home, too. I miss them a lot.”

“We can move into my place, and then look for something a bit bigger, the band’s coming into some money soon,” Reggie explained.

“A house by the beach?” you suggested. “With a nice garden and not that crappy balcony we had in our other apartment?”

Reggie scrunched up his nose. “I happened to like that balcony, Cookie.”

“Fine, a nice house by the beach with a garden and a crappy balcony,” you said sarcastically.

“With many bedrooms,” Reggie added. “For our kids, some day.”

“Four,” you grinned. “So the boys don’t have to argue about who’s going to be the godfather.”

Reggie kissed the top of your head. “And a guest room, for when our parents visit.”

“And a music room?” you asked.

“Of course, Cookie,” he reassured you.

You couldn’t help but smile as you leaned forward, your forehead resting against his. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Reggie weaved your hands together. “Me too, Cookie,” he whispered. “Me too.”

—

“(Y/N) come on please just try it on,” Rose begged.

“I move back and I’m barely here a week and you’re already forcing me into your potential wedding dress,” you rolled your eyes. “Why am I not surprised,”

Rose shoved the dress into your hands, pushing you towards the dressing room. “Go on, the boys will be the judge, right?” she asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” the guys muttered, far more focused on the free alcohol.

“Hey!” Rose snapped her fingers, making the boys jump in surprise. “This is my special day, so if I turn out looking like the cake instead of a bride, I will end all of you.”

Bobby whined as he leaned against Luke’s shoulder. “I didn’t expect this plan to go for so long,” he muttered, making Luke shush him.

“I’m ready!” you called from the dressing room.

Rose squealed excitedly. “Well, come out!” she yelled back. “We’re all dying to see!”

Sighing dramatically, you pushed the door open, walking towards the center of the room.

“Cariña,” Rose gushed. “You look like a princess straight from the fairy tales!” She glanced over at the boys, all of them murmuring in response. “Guys!”

“You look amazing, (N/N),” Alex told you kindly. Ray wordlessly agreed.

“Like a royal bride!” Luke added.

Everyone turned to Bobby, who was drinking the last of the champagne. “Hot,” was all he said as he downed the drink. Alex, Luke, Reggie, and Ray all slapped him upside the head for that.

Rose rolled her eyes. “Why don’t we see what Reggie thinks?” she suggested, looking over at the black haired bassist, who was staring down at the ground.

“Yeah Flicka, what do you think?” you asked, twirling in the floor length gown.

“Eh I don’t think it’s a good idea, it’s bad luck to see the bride in her dress before the wedding,” he shook his head.

“THE WHAT?!” everyone exclaimed.

Luke’s drink flew out of his hand, Ray had to catch Rose when she almost fainted and Bobby and Alex’s jaw’s were practically on the floor.

“Can you repeat that?” Alex asked, eyes widened in shock. “I think I must be hearing things.”

Luke nodded repeatedly. “Yeah, because I could have sworn Reggie said wedding,” he agreed.

“Then I must be having hearing problems, too,” Bobby muttered. “Or maybe it’s the alcohol. What did they put in this?”

“Definitely the green fairy drink,” Alex said, pushing his champagne flute away.

“Okay, first off why would they serve absinthe at a bridal shop?” you frowned, walking back to the dressing room to take off the wedding dress.

“Maybe so they spend a shit ton of money on these dresses,” Reggie nodded and the gang just stared at them.

“You’re seriously NOT gonna comment on that?!” Ray asked. “Ay dios mio, pasa el champán-” He leaned against the wall, fanning himself before reaching for his Rosary.

“Come on you guys give us something!” Luke exclaimed. “Bunny I’m your mom,”

“Okay but first, what’s with this fake wedding?” Reggie commented. “I knew something was off from the beginning but you guys really dragged this out,”

¨Because we were trying to get you all buttered up and drowned in marriage fever!” Rose whined. “But you guys were engaged all along?”

You finally emerged from the dressing room, wedding dress hanging on the door. “Not all along,” you answered, setting yourself down on the couch next to Reggie, swinging your legs over his. “Just in Canada.”

“And you didn’t think to give your friends a call?” Luke asked, pouting. “We’re the ones that have been rooting for you all this time.”

Reggie shot him a look. “To be frank, you guys were the ones that made this stupid plan.”

“We just decided to play along to see how high your patience levels were,” you added, wrapping your arms around Reggie’s neck.

“I told you it was stupid,” Bobby sang in a low voice.

“Shut up Bobby, you came up with the wedding dress bit,” Alex shot back.

“It was a genius plan that came with free champagne!” he exclaimed, gesturing to the flute in his hand.

“Bobby you really need to go to some AA meetings,” Ray sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You all,” he pointed to everyone. “Can suck my-,”

“Okay! So you’re all invited to the wedding!” you interjected before turning to Rose. “Be my maid of honor?”

Rose squealed. “Yes!” she answered giddily. “We can just take all your notes from when we were planning my fake wedding. It’s going to be the wedding of the century, I’m telling you.”

“The wedding of the century on a college student budget,” Reggie mused. “I’d love to see that.”

“If you think we’re doing this on just our budget you’re sorely mistaken,” Luke said and you raised a brow.

“Yeah how are my unemployed parents going to pay for this?” you asked.

“Reggie, your mom is a freaking lawyer,” Luke exclaimed. “I’m sure you could ask for some cash, and (N/N) your grandparents are decently well off and my parents can pitch in cause they’re not gonna get a wedding out of me anytime soon,”

“Guys we don’t want a big thing,” Reggie explained. “Just something by the lake maybe? At night and just close friends and family.”

Rose frowned, crossing her arms on her chest. “You’ll still wear the wedding dress, right?” she asked you. She rolled her eyes at your uncertain face. “Come on, (N/N) this is your moment to shine. I don’t want you to look back and regret not wearing one!”

“Maybe not that dress,” you said, cringing at the layers of tulle. “We’ll figure something out,”

“And you bet I’m helping you,” Rose told you firmly.

“Of course,” you nodded. “Now let’s just hope life doesn’t throw us another shit show,”

—

“Oh my God, I’m totally freaking out! Does anyone have a paper bag? I need a paper bag! Guys!”

“Rose calm down!” you exclaimed. “It’s my freaking wedding day and you’re the one having a melt down,”

“But what if-,”

“Don’t you even dare Rose. Don’t. You. Dare.” you warned and she quieted while you straightened out your sleek white dress.

“Kind of ironic, the person who was pushing you together this entire time being the one breaking down,” Luke chuckled, taking a sip of wine.

“Shut up Patterson, you were crying in the bathroom for like 45 minutes. I'm not the only person having a crisis,” Rose shot back, finally finding a paper bag in the back of her car.

Luke’s face turned red as he moved closer to you, only for you to jerk back. “Mm, no you don’t,” you told him, keeping a distance away. “I know how you get when you’re emotional and tispy. Stay away from the dress, mom. We don’t need any abstract painting on my shoulder.”

Luke sighed dramatically. “You wound me, Lady Bunny.”

“It’s going to be Lady Peters any minute now,” Alex announced, approaching you. He looked down at you, grinning. “You look amazing, (N/N). Reggie’s going to love it.”

You smiled, going on the tippy toes to kiss Alex’s cheek. “Thanks, Alex,” you said. “I’m glad somebody has their head on straight.”

“Yeah you might not wanna go see Bobby then,” he said, sucking air through his teeth.

You winced. “Please tell me he hasn’t found the wine yet.”

“He brought his own.”

Rolling your eyes, you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Dammit,” you groaned. “Just make sure he makes it to the vows, okay?”

Alex saluted to you. “Of course, (N/N).”

“I’m really starting to second guess singing at the reception, that’s got me more nervous than getting married,”

Luke shook his head at you, setting his glass down. “Really?” he asked. “You’re not scared the groom might up and run at the last minute?”

“Ha ha,” you deadpanned. “I know Reggie, he wouldn’t-”

“Guys we can’t find Reggie,” Ray came running in. Rose let out a cry, starting to hyperventilate into the paper bag.

“I swear to fucking God this better be a joke!” you yelled, pushing everyone out of the way. “Reginald Peters, when I find you I’m going to murder you!”

Alex ran, close behind you. “(N/N), I love you and wholeheartedly agree, but I think in order to have a wedding you should have a groom-”

“Get out of here with your technicalities!” you snapped. “Just because you’re accurate doesn’t mean you’re interesting!” Alex let out a squeak in response, but remained silent. You pulled your hair in frustration. “I’m supposed to get married! And my future husband isn’t even here! I think I have the right to freak out!”

“I’m here! I’m here!” you heard a quick call and you looked up seeing Reggie running in your direction, dressed in his suit and tie, waving something in the air.

“Reggie the dress!” Rose screeched from behind you. Instantly, Reggie covered his eyes with the hand that wasn’t holding the box.

“Reginald Darcy Peters!” you yelled, marching up to him and promptly slapping him across the face. “Don’t you dare pull that kind of shit with me,” you warned. “Thin fucking ice Flicka,”

“I’m gonna pretend that didn’t just happen,” Reggie groaned, rubbing where you had slapped him. “I needed to get the ring from the shop. You want to get married without a ring?”

“But Alex has the rings,” you said with a frown. “Don’t you?”

Alex’s eyes widened before patting down his suit pocket, sighing in relief. “Yes, it’s here,” he informed you.

“I know,” Reggie sighed. “But this ring is different. Just trust me, okay?”

You scowled, crossing your arms on your chest. “As long as you don’t run off again. Pull that shit one more time and I’m calling Nana to bring the scones.”

Reggie paled. “Of course, darling,” he reassured you cheekily.

“That’s Mrs. Peters to you,” you flicked him.

“Okay, let’s get this guy out of here,” Alex said, dragging Reggie away.

You laughed breathlessly as Reggie almost tripped over a rock, eyes still closed.

“Of all the boys in this band you had to choose that one?” Rose asked, walking behind you. The paper bag was still in her hands.

You simply shrugged your shoulders. “He’s the one for me,” you laughed softly. “My Flicka.”

“Your stupid Flicka,” Rose shook her head. “Now come on, you. You have an aisle to walk and people to wow.”

You were pushed towards the area in front of the lake, where the ceremony was to be held. At that point, everyone had walked down the aisle. Alex’s little sisters as the flower girls, Bobby, Luke, and Alex, Rose and Ray, and yours and Reggie’s family members. Well, Tamara more so strutted with Earl by her side.

“Ready, sweetheart?” you heard your dad ask you.

You grinned up at your dad, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “As I’ll ever be.”

Tears began to pool in Mateo’s eyes as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You’ve grown so much,” he told you, his voice cracking. “It feels just like yesterday when I first held you in my arms. Now you’re getting married?”

“Time really does fly, huh?” you said back, reaching up to wipe away his tears. “I’m still your little girl, I promise.”

“I know,” he sighed, still smiling. “Just, remember to call from time to time, okay?”

“Of course, Dad,” you laughed. “Every minute of every day if I have to.”

“Lord knows how high your phone bills will be,” Mateo shook his head with a light laugh. “Let’s go?”

Nodding, you took your dad’s arm as you walked down the aisle. You couldn’t help but grin so hard that your cheeks ached. Everyone turned around to see you, gushing quietly. But your eyes were only on Reggie’s.

He stood at the center of the altar, his cheeks already tearstained. No matter how often he wiped his eyes, the tears kept flowing. He couldn’t help it. You were beautiful, angelic even. Your smile and laugh made him feel just as Ray said all those months ago. Like everything was right in the world. It was only just him and his Cookie, his darling, his love. And that was all that mattered. That you were his.

You finally reached up to him, your bouquet held tightly in your hands. “Hi Flicka,” you said in a quiet voice.

“You look even more gorgeous than I had ever imagined,” he whispered to you, completely in awe.

“Cheesy dork,” you shot back. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“I’m your cheesy dork,” he said before turning to your dad. “Sir,” he greeted, cheeks reddened.

Mateo only smiled at the two of you talking. He knew Reggie was the one for you. “What did I say about calling me that?” he asked in a playfully stern voice. “Keep her safe, okay? And love her every day of your life.”

“I promise,” Reggie reassured him.

Mateo patted Reggie’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t want anyone else for my daughter to spend the rest of her life with,” he told him before formally passing you on to Reggie. Turning back around, you quickly mouthed “I love you” to your dad before taking Reggie’s arm.

The two of you turned back to where the officator was, only to see Bobby holding the minister’s book in his hand. “Hey, dorks,” he greeted with a snort.

You raised an eyebrow. “Reggie, I thought you called to get um...an actual minister.”

“I did,” he whispered back. “I just saw him like, a second ago. Where did he go-”

“We’re gathered here today to celebrate these fuckers finally getting it on,” Bobby continued, pretending to read from the book. “It took some time but damn they’re finally together. (N/N)’s Canadian, Reggie’s from Wyoming, everything’s a fucking lie but their love is real, so it works out-”

“Young man, leave the altar immediately!” a voice yelled. Everyone turned to see a much older man shooing Bobby away. The minister took the book, opening it and sighing. “I’m sorry, where were we?”

“Just about to marry the love of my life,” Reggie grinned.

“Yes of course,” the minister nodded and opened his book, starting to officiate the ceremony. Many tears were shed, mostly from Luke, almost all from Luke, and finally it came time where you and Reggie could take the lead.

“I believe the happy couple have prepared individual vows?”

You and Reggie both nodded, holding each other’s hands tightly and only looking into each other’s eyes.

Reggie went first,

“Cookie, we’ve had --to be honest-- a shit hand given to us. But despite all of the things thrown in our path, obstacles that forced us to stay apart, you continued to put your faith in the universe. That optimism, that complete faith in something you can’t see or feel, I admire that. Even as kids, I knew that you were exactly the kind of girl I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I promise that I will protect you with my life, and shower you with a million compliments and kisses every day, just to hear that laugh of yours that you hate so much. I promise to cherish every second of our lives together like my life depends on it, but if I’m being honest, if I didn’t have you in my life, I wouldn’t be living. You’ve brought a whole new world to me, and I swear to you I will never let you go.”

You fought back the urge to just kiss him right there and instead fought back your happy tears while you tried to deliver your vows, only to be interrupted before starting by Alex who nudged a tissue box near you making you and the rest of the group chuckle while you quickly dabbed away your tears and took a deep breath.

“I- I love you so much, Flicka. You are the love of my life, my partner, my best friend, and I could never find anyone as brilliant as you. I promise to love you with everything in me, despite the obstacles life throws at us. I want to wake up every morning with you by my side, laugh with you by my side, even cry with you by my side… I mean let’s be honest that last one happens more often than not,” that earned a chuckle from the boys and Rose especially. “Because let’s face it, everything in this world is always better with you, by my side. I promise you, that I will love you unconditionally throughout our lives, through every adventure, and throughout every hardship. I love you for you.”

“JUST KISS ALREADY!” Luke yelled from the side and everyone burst into laughter while the minister shook his head,

“Why did you even bother with me?” the minister asked and you and Reggie apologized. “It seems as if the most popular opinion would be to get this over with so the rings?”

Alex passed Reggie the new ring from earlier and Rose passed you the one you and Reggie had picked out.

Reggie pulled out the ring and you gasped quietly looking at the stunning ring.

“Oh my God Reggie how did you afford that?” you whispered as he slipped the ring on your finger.

“It’s passed down in the family,” Reggie explained. “My mom and dad wanted me to give it to you,”

You looked over at Darcy and Diana, mouthing thank you and slipping Reggie’s ring on his finger.

“By the power vested in me by the State of California I now pronounce you husband and wife-,”

“You may now kiss the bride!” the boys yelled and the minister threw his hands up in the air and nodded.

“Go ahead, kiss her,”

You and Reggie were both grinning like idiots while he pulled you into his arms, pressing a full kiss to your lips while your guests cheered loudly.

“Now food?” Reggie asked and you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah I guess, Mr. Peters,” you sighed and he grinned.

“Why thank you Mrs. Peters,” he kissed you once more and everyone whooped and hollered again.

Damn, (Y/N) Peters, you liked the sound of that.

—

“No guys I don’t want to,” you whined, trying to run away from the microphones.

“Cookie you promised,” Reggie pouted.

“Yes get your ass up on that makeshift stage right now (Y/N), or I swear to God I’m pulling out the rosary-,”

“Okay! Okay! I’ll do it, just leave the rosary out of this!” you begged and hopped up onto the stage with Reggie’s help.

He handed you a microphone and you bit your lip looking at him as if you were asking if you were really going to do this.

“Embrace your awesomeness Cookie, you’ve got this,” he grinned. “And don’t worry all the guys and even Rose are backing us up,”

“Even Ray?”

“We put him on tambourine,” Reggie nodded and you let out a small laugh.

“Ladies and gents can I have your attention please,” Luke called out and your guests all turned to the front. “The bride and groom would like to share a special song with you, accompanied by Sunset Curve,”

“And company!” Rose added and there were small chuckles heard through the area.

“You ready Cookie?”

“No, but hit it,” you nodded and Reggie looked at his band mates, counting them in and singing,

“I don’t give a damn about the way you touch me when we’re alone. You can hold my hand if no one’s home. Do you like it when I’m away? If I wasn’t here in my body baby would you love me the same?”

You were hesitant at first, only adding in your harmonies quietly while Reggie took the lead as planned. Then the chorus came, and not only were you joined by Reggie, but Bobby, Luke, Alex and Rose.

“Oh baby I am a wreck when I’m without you. I need you here to stay.”

Reggie winked at you, taking your hand in his and squeezing it. You swayed together, quietly singing along until the second verse came. Again your voice went quiet, but Reggie turned your face to his and you locked eyes, giving you the push to raise your volume and get into it,

“Oh, oh, oh, oh and I know that you know listen close and move slow I can't speak fast or else I'll crack. It's the price I pay for going back and I've dreamed to be seen now I've got it, do I want it?”

Rose was looking over at you with the proudest face you’d seen since you had given her the news of the engagement. There wouldn’t be any death by rosary today.

As soon as the song ended, you were met with a deafening applause, but none of that mattered to you. Reggie passed his microphone over to Ray before cupping your face with his hands and kissing you softly.

“I knew you could do it,” he joked, pulling away.

“Shut up,” you laughed quietly. “I didn’t mind singing, now that I think about it. It was fun.”

Reggie raised an eyebrow teasingly. “Does that mean you’ll be joining our band-”

“Don’t even think about it, Peters,” you shot back.

“Of course, Mrs. Peters,” he told you with a smile. “Man, I’ll never get tired of saying that.”

“Good,” you grinned. “Because I’ll never get tired of hearing it.”

—

After the rush of wedding planning, it felt incredibly refreshing to finally relax. No more planning who’s sitting where or writing up a “family friendly” setlist, it was just you and Reggie.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Unlike anything I could have ever imagined.”

You ripped your eyes away from the beautiful buildings to smile at your husband. Reggie stood by your side, staring up at the scenery.

“Does this top Wyoming, Flicka?” you teased.

Reggie rolled his eyes, taking your hand in his and kissed it softly. “Anywhere is Wyoming when I’m with you, Cookie.”

You made a sour face. “Are you calling me Wyoming, Flicka?” you asked.

“I thought it was more romantic in my head,” he shrugged his shoulders. “But what did I say, this place waited for you didn’t it?”

“It really did,” you smiled. “And I hate it when you’re right,” you leaned your head on his shoulder, looking back out at the city again, admiring the opera houses and ancient architecture of a once prosperous empire.

Silence filled the air, aside from the occasional passersby. Reggie sighed, kissing the top of your head.

“You know,” he mused. “I hope to bring our kids here one day. You know, see the place their mother loves more than anything in the world?”

You bit your lip to hold back your grin. “Really?” you said in response.

Reggie hummed. “Well, this place makes you happy, right?” he asked you. “I’d like to show our kids around here. Share a piece of our story with them, too. Our adventures, all of it.”

“No problemo my dude, already done,”

“E-Excuse me?” Reggie coughed, turning his body to fully face you.

You couldn’t hold back your smile any longer. “I found out a couple of weeks ago,” you told him honestly. “I thought it would be best to tell you here.”

Reggie looked down at your stomach, his hands gently grazing your shirt. “T-there’s-” he stammered. “Our baby’s in there? As in, yours and my child?”

“No, Alex is the father,” you deadpanned. “Or wait no is it Bobby? Or Ray? Or maybe-”

Reggie cut you off, pulling you into a deep kiss. As soon as he pulled away, you looked into his eyes. They were filled with tears, and his smile was incredibly wide.

“You’re pregnant,” he whispered. “Oh my God, you're pregnant! I can’t breathe, I-”

You grabbed his shoulders. “Are you okay?” you asked, concern starting to seep in.

Reggie swallowed loudly. “Of course, I’m just-” he took a deep breath. “We’re going to be parents. I’m going to be a dad!”

“Hey you don’t know that,” you teased. “I never told you who the father is.”

“Shut up, Cookie,” he laughed, kissing you once more. “You’re carrying my little chocolate chip,”

Giggling, you shook your head. “You’re ridiculous when it comes to making up names.”

“Then our entire family will have to deal with them,” Reggie insisted. “All four kids, when the time comes.”

“Lord, I pray for them when they have to go to school,” you laughed.

You and Reggie sat down on a park bench. His hand immediately found its place on your stomach. There wasn’t any bump, but Reggie didn’t care. His child was there. His little chocolate chip.

The chocolate chip to his Cookie. He liked that. He liked that a lot.

general taglist: @katrina765 @glowstick-lesbian @well-hes-just-too-cute @slytherhoes @notasofti @sunsetcurving @kmsmedine @dxrling-neptune @mystic-writings @kmsmedine @acunamatata56​

will they won’t they taglist: @lil-lex1 @cookiecakeslive @ifilwtmfc​

dm us to join our taglist!

remember to like, comment, reblog, and send memes! <3

[self-shipyard]

"Fixing a Hole" - A Self-Ship Fanfic

SYNOPSIS: A fic in which Gh.iaccio comes home from work with two of the buttons of his coat torn off and in his hand. He goes to Lumaca for her help and her support.

Word Count: 1284

CW: Lots of Fluff, Mentions of Stress

Note: College just started back up, so this fic sort of reflects how I'm feeling about the whole thing. I'm sure I'll have time to write other stuff and we can do so many other things together but for now, all I really want is him.

“Lumaca,” Ghiaccio’s voice called from the entrance hall. “Are you home? I need you.”

Lumaca looked up from her place at the laptop, away from her schoolwork. She felt a rush of excitement at the sound of her husband’s voice, but also a pang of worry.

“I’m here, Ghiaccio!” she called out from the living room. “What’s wrong?”

He limped into the room, his angry grimace melting into a softer upset appearance upon finding her.

His coat had been taken off and draped over his left arm, revealing the black tank he always wore underneath, and his right hand was balled into a tight fist. She had studied his exposed skin, giving a silent thanks that she found no injury.

As soon as he was in reach of her, he held out his fist and opened it to reveal two of the buttons from his coat in the middle of his palm.

He looked down at his sneakers.

“A couple of the buttons on my coat got ripped off today during my mission,” he grumbled. “I’ve been having to hold it closed manually since I left and it’s been pissing me off… Can you sew them back on for me when you have the chance to? I mean, I understand that school’s been demanding a lot of your attention, so I’m not planning to distract you too much or anything.”

A smile spread across her face, feeling so touched by his sweetness. Of course, he always was so sweet to her, but she couldn’t help but feel so tender for him every single time.

He really was the love of her life.

“Ghiaccio my dear, I’m always ready to set some time aside for you.” She turned to close the laptop before continuing. “Besides, I could use the break, so I can do it right now. We could even cuddle afterward if you want to!”

He thought for a moment before nodding.

“If you want to, I’d love that.”

“We can take our minds off of things for a little bit that way.” She made a gesture towards the closet. “But first, would you get the sewing kit for me, please? It should be on the middle shelf.”

After putting his coat and the buttons on the coffee table in front of her, he ran off and came back a moment later with the kit in his hands. She took it and opened it up, but not before taking his hand into hers and kissing the top of it.

“Thank you!”

He took a seat next to her, caressing the spot she had just kissed him like it was made of glass and in need of protection.

“No, thank you.”

As she put his coat in her lap and threaded a needle with a purple thread, he watched her fingers carefully. They moved quickly and carefully, almost like a spider weaving its web.

“So, other than the buttons getting ripped off,” she asked him sweetly, “How was work today?”

“It was alright.” He leaned back into the couch and looked up at the ceiling. “The guy was pretty damn annoying to deal with, especially after that shit happened, but it definitely wasn’t anything that White Album couldn’t take care of. Fuck, it almost turned into a highway chase, but it didn’t. I got to him just before he could run away. I admit that was pretty goddamn stressful.”

He looked over at her before the last part of his ramble rolled off his tongue. At this point, his eyes had gone softer just from being near her.

“I’m just really happy to be home with you.”

She stopped to give him a tender look.

“I’m really happy you’re home too with me too... I’ve been missing you a lot since college has restarted.”

“Yeah, I’ve been missing you too. So much.” His eyes lit up as an idea came to his head. “Hey, we should go out tonight! If you’re not too busy. I know your schedule has been cluttering up recently, but it’d be nice. Just the two of us, you know?”

Now it was her turn to have her eyes glow with excitement.

“I’d love to, Ghiaccio! It’s been a while, so that would be lovely. We’ll make a date out of it.” She turned back down to the button and tied up the thread before snipping it short. “That’s one button! Now for the other one…”

“God, what would I be doing without you?” he asked as his wife started to take care of the other button. “I mean, I can adapt, but things really wouldn’t feel the same without you around. You treat me with a lot of love and care. It makes me feel rea.”

She stopped for a moment to look at her beloved husband again, this time with a blush on her cheeks.

“I really love the way you treat me too…” She looked down at herself, the blush turning a darker shade of red. “Maybe I’ve even gotten a little spoiled off of your love.”

“You deserve it, though!” He reached over and caressed her cheek. “I would spoil you all the time if you let me. I mean, you already spoil me a whole bunch. In fact, your love gives me hope for a better life where we don’t have to deal with Passione anymore. One day, we could get out of here… Together.”

She put the needle down and looked back up at him, her eyes becoming glossy and tender. She didn’t say it but her expression said that she was ready to stop the world for him.

“Oh, my love…!”

She leaned over, her hand combing through his hair and her lips peppering kisses all over the bridge of his nose and his cheeks. His eyes closed and he blushed deeply, smiling and chuckling. After a long moment of nothing but this, she smiled and whispered softly into his ear.

“Your love does the same for me. I feel like I could do anything with you by my side…”

Hesitant to break the moment, she slowly turned back to her work and, after tying the thread once again, snipped it. He watched her quietly and intently, with patience he had trouble showing anyone else.

Finally, with a proud smile on her face, she held the coat up to him.

“Good as new!”

He took the coat in his hands and looked over at her. His thumb carefully grazed over one of the newly sewn-on buttons, which was firmly in place.

“Thank you, bucaneve.”

She reached over and rubbed her thumb against his rough knuckles.

“Of course, love!”

She put her hands in her lap, quietly waiting for him to put the coat on, but instead, he set it against the armrest of the couch. Feeling her confused gaze upon him, he realized he owed her a quick explanation.

“I would put it on,” he explained, “But I’d rather feel you hugging my body right now instead.”

Sure enough, his hand went to her thigh and he looked into her eyes. She could see that his eyes were now a soft, gentle grey; the ones she would see when he was relaxed. They especially got like this in her presence.

A little grin crept up onto his face.

“I hope you don’t mind.”

She giggled and, with no hesitation, repositioned herself onto his lap facing him. With both of her hands massaging at his scalp now, she moved a curl off of his forehead and planted a tender kiss there.

Truly, there was no place they’d rather be than right there, in each other’s embrace.

“As long as it's with you, I don’t mind at all.”

[thiswasinevitableid]

Winter prompt fill 67 for sternclay? Doesn’t have to be a wedding I just love the 2nd half of this prompt. nsfw would be great

Here you go! It is indeed NSFW

67. you were supposed to have a beautiful winter wedding but you were ditched during the vows and my idiot sibling/best friend just cracked a joke about how maybe I’d finally tell you how I feel about you and you h e a r d

“She’s not coming.” Joseph whispers over his shoulder. 

“Joe, for all we know she got hung up in a dress emergency or something?” Lily, the best woman and Joseph’s sister, squeezes his shoulder.

When the groom turns his blue eyes on Barclay, the groomsman does his best impression of someone who thinks things will be fine.

“It’s only been five minutes.”

“Her entire wedding party is here without her. And they look as confused as we do.”

Barclay spots a member of the event staff slip in a side door and hand a piece of paper to Indrid, their friend who’s acting as an usher. 

“I, ah, have some bad news.” The pale-haired man joins them at the front of the church, “it seems the bride has had a serious change of mind and will not be joining us.”

Joseph grabs the paper, reading it over as the bridal party crowds around him. The upshot of all the commotion, and the arguing that follows the commotion, is that the bride has indeed called off the wedding and is en route to an airport. 

As the family confirms she’s alright, Joseph picks up the microphone.

“Obviously this is a, um, unexpected turn of events. It’s safe to say no one is getting married today, but everything is still in order for the reception and we’re all dressed up so, um, if people want to stay and take advantage of that, you’re welcome to. You’re also welcome to leave if you want.”

Several groups break off towards the reception hall, and Barclay pulls Joseph aside. 

“Joe,  are you sure? I mean, yeah, we’re all here, but I don’t think anyone is gonna hold it against you if you want to send everyone home.”

“It’s important to be flexible.” Joseph replies blithely. Barclay knows his best friend hates when plans change and is unlikely to suddenly lose that piece of his personality at the same moment he lost his fiancee. 

“Besides, I’d hate for that menu you helped us pick out to go to waste.” There it is, the Joseph Stern Professional smile ™, a sign that Barclay’s hunch is right.

“Screw the menu, man, I’m worried about you.” Barclay sets a hand on either of his shoulders. Joseph’s gaze snaps all the way onto him, and he knows he is losing this argument. 

“It’s still my wedding, Barclay. That means I get to run it in whatever way I think best.”

“Right, yeah, sorry.” He steps back, brushes lint from his arm, “you go on ahead. I join you in a sec.”

Joseph nods, turning to stride though the room in his dark suit, while Barclay watches the love of his life walk away.

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

“Uh, hi, I’m Barclay. You must be Joseph?” Barclay stands in the door of the dorm room, his backpack in his arms. 

“Yes. Um, nice to meet you.” The other guy stands, black hair and well-fitting X-Files shirt making him look like Agent Mulder on his day off.

“I didn’t choose a side yet, it seemed fair to wait until we were both here. I’m partial to the left but that’s more habit than anything else.”

“I’m cool with that. I, uh, I don’t have a ton of stuff to unpack so, uh if you need help let me know.”

“Thank you.” Joseph smiles, taking his face from cute to heart-stoppingly handsome, and Barclay decides he hit the roommate jackpot.

Barclay didn’t fall for Joe so much as cliffdive, throwing himself after the feeling he got whenever Joe laughed at a joke or told him a secret or talked for fifteen minutes about the methodology flaws in Ghost Hunters. Yes, Joe was hotter than convection oven and Barclay wanted to fuck him on the floor of every space they ever lived in, but more than that Barclay was so happy with him, and his friend felt the same way. 

The problem was, Barclay had a shy streak and was far from the only person to see Joe as a catch. And so they dated other people, sometimes happily and sometimes not, but never each other. By the time Joe met Iris, Barclay’s unrequited love had been thrumming in him so long it was no more than background noise. So when Joe ran proposal ideas by him, announced the weddings, asked Barclay to stand up with him, Barclay felt genuine happiness for him and the woman he loved. There’s no rule that says one cannot feel joy and knife-in-the-gut sorrow at the same time.

He’s only gotten better with age he thinks as Joe works the room, fielding condolences with ease. Barclay helped him choose the suit, black with blue lines in the stitching, because it flattered  but did not flaunt the well-maintained figure beneath. The last time Barclay saw him in just his underwear was when they lived together after college, and he fumbled his phone when he saw him at the beach last summer. He can picture it so clearly, what that body looks like under those clothes, and it makes him want to scream

“This whole day has been full of surprises.” Indrid sits down next to him, glass of soda in hand. 

“Kinda figured you and Duck would head home.”

“Most of  our friends are here, and the food looks good. Not to mention we’re both worried about-” Indrid nods towards Joseph.

“Yeah, me too. I mean, I admire his holding it together but, like, what if Duck had left you at the altar?”

“I’d have turned into a hideous red-eyed monster and flapped screeching into the night.”

“......”

“That was a joke.” Indrid grins. 

“Right. Man, hard to tell with you sometimes.”

“While this is an upsetting situation, there is a bright side; maybe now you will finally tell Joseph how you feel.”

A crash makes them both turn in their seats; Joseph is wiping his dropped (plastic) cup up with a nearby napkin, well within earshot. 

“Indrid I swear if he heard-”

“Oh, I am certain he did.”

“Dude” Barclay hisses as Joseph steals an unreadable glance at him. 

“For goodness sake, you two are a good pair. A pair you’ve been dreaming about for years. Tell him.” With that the other man stands, leaving Barclay alone with his thoughts. His thoughts are no help, so he joins Indrid, Duck, Aubrey, and Dani for some cake.

As the venue finally empties, he realizes he hasn’t seen Joe in an hour and panics until he finds him standing (swaying, really) in the staging room. 

“You, hic, know, hic, this explains, hic, why she didn’t want to move until hic, after the wedding.”

“Seems like it’s for the best, going home to a place where all her stuff is would fucking suck.” Barclay puts an arm around him only for the shorter man to slump most of his weight into his chest.

“The hotel’s paid for, and I have a week hic of vacation and a packed car.”

“You’re not driving anywhere. I can and will lock you in a closet if you try.”

“Or you could, hic, come with me.”

“On your honeymoon?” Thank god Joe is too drunk to notice his voice creeping up.

“On my it’s this or be miserable t home trip. Please, Barclay? We can hic, swing by your place to get your stuff.”

Barclay says yes. Purely to help a friend in need and not because of how said friend feels pressed up against him.

They’re an hour out of the city when Joseph fumbles with his phone, “Change of plans, were going here instead of the hotel?”

“I thought the whole point was the hotel was paid for?”

“It is, by her family, so fuck it. I’ve always wanted to go here and it’s the kind of place she’d never let us stay.”

They take the next exit and find the highway North rather than East. By the time they reach the massive pink building with an airplane in the field out front, snow is falling and Joe is half-asleep, mumbling “okay” when Barclay says he’ll go get them a room. The clerk welcomes him, shows him a list of available rooms, and he notices a high number of them have heart-shaped bed, “tubs for two,” and the word “fantasy” in the name. 

Just as he’s wondering what the fuck Joe’s gotten them into, he spots the perfect room at the bottom of the list. 

“Got a surprise for you.” He helps Joe from the car and unlocks the door. His friend takes in the silver and green decor, the posters, and the UFO-shaped bed. 

“This is the exact one I was hoping for.”

“I know, you giant nerd.”

“Be nice, big guy, or you’re sleeping on the couch.” Joe stumbles to the bed and starts stripping, at which point Barclay zips back outside to get their bags. By the time he’s back, Joe is under the covers and out cold. The king bed does look comfy…

Barclay sleeps on the couch. 

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

Joe remains dead to the world until almost noon the next day, so Barclay works on his cookbook edits and sends yet another thank-you email to Mama for letting him take his vacation with such little notice. He grabs breakfast, including a sandwich for when Joe wakes up and some aspirin to go with his coffee. 

“I hate myself.”

“Good morning to you too.”

Joe rolls over, dragging the pillow atop his head, “I didn’t mean to get so drunk, it’s just the only way I could get through all those conversations yesterday was to take a drink every time I felt like crumbling.”

Barclay sits on the bed, petting his head, “It’s okay, man, getting me to drive you to a weird sex hotel is not the worst thing you’ve done drunk.”

“I threw up in a mixer one time.”

“And I’ll never forgive you for it.” He laughs when Joe whacks him with a pillow. In the silence that follows, he remembers Indrid’s comment, and wonders if Joe does too. 

“...Is this really a sex hotel? I just thought it was kitsch aimed at couples”

“Go look at the tub.”

Joe groans, stepping out of bed in just his--god help him--silk boxer briefs. They must have been under the suit. 

“Are these...they are, there are handcuffs hanging by the tub. Well, weird as that is, I’m taking a bath.”

The day goes in an oddly non-awkward direction after that. They’ve lived together often enough that getting dressed and clean in close quarters is nothing new. Joe votes for hiding from the world  bit longer, so they settle in on the very squishy bed and watch a silver plated T.V, Joe laughing whenever Barclay yells at cooking shows they way other people yell at football games. 

He still sleeps on the couch that night. 

The next day Joe is up bright and early, suggesting they drive to a nearby tourist trap, using his phone to pick out a breakfast place that serves Barclays favorite local coffee blend. They follow that same process the next two days; find some strange roadside attraction or nearby bookstore, eat, and return back to the motel to lay side by side on the bed and to read or watch T.V.

It’s as they’re wandering around a strange, knock-off Carhenge that Joe sighs, “I sort of saw it coming, you know? Iris leaving. I proposed because I cared about her, but she was the one who brought it up, and every time we were visiting her family or she got off the phone with them, she’d bring it up more forcefully. I think she was under more pressure to settle down than I grasped. If our places were switched, I might have run too. Lord knows I wouldn’t want to marry me.”

Barclay crunches to a stop in the snow “Why the fuck not?” 

“Because I’m exactly the kind of guy you’d want to bring home to your family but not spend your life with. My job has weird hours and travel, my non-work clothes have cryptids on them, I can be too particular, and I’m not that exciting for someone whose job is special agent-”

“No, fuck that, you’re a catch.”

“You’re just used to me, big guy. Your objectivity is in question.”

“Yeah, well, you’re even more used to you, so I’m really the more objective one here.” 

“Maybe you’re right.” Joe stares at his footprints, then elbows the cook, “come on, lets go get lunch.”

Barclay is still full and happy, having warmed up via a soak in the tub (where he thought of four different ways to use the cuffs and then had to calm down his cock enough to get out), when he comes into the main room and finds Joe staring at his phone. 

“Oh shit, did she get in touch?”

“Yes. Iris, um, is on a cruise ship. As a yoga instructor. She says it’s something she’s dreamed of for years, that she’s sorry for hurting me, but that marrying me would have been a step in a life she did not want to lead. So. That’s that.” He puts the phone face down, cards his fingers through his hair, “Lord almighty I wish she’d just said no when I asked.”

“Me too.” Barclay imagines a different past, where Joe asked him instead, where he said yes because it’s what he’s been dreaming of since he was twenty-two. Where Joe is sitting in front of him, not sad-eyed and tired, but happy as can be. 

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

This hangover is somehow worse than the one the morning after his non-wedding. Then again, he drank more in a shorter period, hoping to drown out the memory of the words on the screen. 

Or the words he overheard at the reception.

“Tell him how you really feel”

He’s had his suspicions about Barclay from time to time, most frequently when they were younger and he felt those deep brown eyes on his ass every time he turned around. But Barclay never took a chance; there were times after break-ups when Joe is certain anyone who was interested would have taken advantage of him being vulnerable and available, but instead Barclay cheered him up, the same way Joe did when Barclay’s relationships ended. Stern concluded neither of them wanted more. 

He would have taken more in an instant. His love for Barclay walked the line between romantic and platonic, and he would have crossed it the moment Barclay asked him to.

Now, he’s bathing with his eyes shut because any light is murder on his skull, his best friend waking up on the couch where he’s insisted on staying because clearly Joe’s lost his appeal. Who’d want to sleep with someone who got roaring drunk and needed babysitting?

He pops aspirin, drinks water, and lays down with his sleep mask over his eyes. Barclay moves around the room, talking softly in that gentle baritone that, not for the first time, makes Stern wonder what he sounds like when he cums. 

“You want me to run and grab breakfast?”

“No, I can get it for both of us. Lord knows you’ve done enough for me this week.”

“You gonna go downstairs blindfolded?”

“For you, I’ll risk a headache OW, owow.” His back locks up just as he tries to sit upright.

The bed sags, “Holy shit man, you’ve got a huge knot right here.”

“My back always does that when I’m stressed, it’ll be fine.”

“Nuhuh, lay down and let me see if I can get it out.” Barclay nudges him onto his stomach and he flops willingly, mask still on. 

“You don’t need to Ohhhhhhhhhnnn, I forget about those bakers hands.”

“Gonna knead you like dough, babe.”

Stern blushes at the name; he was always a little jealous when his friend called his boyfriends that. 

When thumbs pass below his shoulder-blades he moans, arches at the second of pain, “That’s it, that’s the epicenter.”

He can’t stop sighing as Barclay runs his hands over him, can’t stop wiggling his hips at every burst of relief. He pushes his ass up without meaning too, and a bitten-back whine reaches him. 

Fuck it. Even if he’s about to make a huge mistake, he wont have to look Barclay in the eyes.

“What did Indrid mean? At the reception.”

“Uh.” Barclay’s hands still, “uh. That I was worried about you.”

“Try again.” He grinds his ass back deliberately. 

“Joe, please, I’m hanging on by a fucking thread here. You’re underneath me shirtless and I am not gonna do this a dumb way.”

“Do what?”

“Tell you that, that I, no nope, I’m gonna do this back home, at the Lodge or something, make you dinner first and be all romantic so that you don’t think I’m talking with my dick when I say I love you.”

Barclay’s whole body tenses. Joe flips onto his back, regrets the sudden movement, and lifts his sleep mask. He takes one of his frozen hands from the air.

“I love you too.”

“Really?” Barclay sounds like a teenager whose crush just said yes to prom.

“Really. And I don’t think it’s just your dick talking. Although if you wanted to bring it into the equation I wouldn’t mind.” He sends a pointed stare at the half-hard shape under worn denim.

Barclay’s breathing is picking up, his posture trapped between movements. 

“Do you, um, do you want to kiss?”

His friend drops down in reply, smashing their lips together and parting his own imploringly until Stern slips his tongue between them. His big hands cup Stern’s face and his hips grind like he thinks his parents will be home any minute. 

“I love you, I love you so fucking much, Joe, ohgod, babe, please, please let me be good to you” the kisses on his face and neck are messy and the sweetest sensation he’s ever felt. 

“Barclay, you’ve always been good to me.”

“I meant this” he drags their dicks together, “kind of good.”

“Ohlord, yes okay, good point. Get your clothes off and bring me the purple bag that’s in my suitcase.”

Barclay grabs the bag, upends it and sends several sex toys, his strap-on underwear, and lots of condoms onto the bed, undresses as Stern sets one of the toys into the harness. 

“I need to put this back on.” He lowers the mask and hears a soft whine.

“I like seeing your eyes.”

“You’ll see them plenty, big guy, I promise. Now, open yourself up, please.”

“Oh hell yes.” A rip of foil, a pop of lube, and then Barclay straddles him, grunting delightfully. 

“Tell me when you get to three, that should be enough for this toy.”

Pre-cum drips just above the waistband of the underwear, and he gets a thrill remembering the few times he’d caught an accidental glimpse of Barclay’s dick. It’s big, that much he knows, and he’s going to have a lot of fun with it once he’s done reducing the man above him to tears. 

“T-three, babe.”

“Get my dick wet and then get to it.”

When he gets the gasp that tells him the toy is in, he smile and reaches to the underside of the base, “Remember that new dick I was excited about?”

“The vibrating one? OHFUCK, fuckyeahbabe” Barclay jerks and moans, his movements erratic even as he sinks all the way down. Stern echoes him, the pressure of the other man’s body makes the vibrations hit all the right spots. 

“Here’s how this is going to work, big guy; I’m going to get off while I fuck you, and if you can hold off on coming until I’m done, I’ll let you fuck me.”

“God yeah, Joe, fuck me, please.” 

He thrusts up and there’s a thud of Barclay’s hands hitting the headboard. The movement is rough on his stomach but he doesn’t care, grabs hold of thick thighs and fucks him, the other man working his hips in an attempt at rhythm.

The mask catches on a pillow, letting him see Barclay from the neck down. Lord, he looks good like this, big (Stern’s always loved how big he is), letting out the most appealing grunts and growls, dark hair covering most of his softly muscled body…

Wait a minute. 

He claps a hand over his mouth, laughing. 

“Whats, aAAhnnn, what’s so funny babe?”

“Remember when you found that Sasquatch dildo and bigfoot romance novel in my stuff?”

“Hard to forget.”

“I just discovered the source of the fantasy.”

“Are, are you saying I look like bigfoot when I fuck?” Barclay is shaking with laughter. 

“Kind of?”

“I’m putting that on a sign in my den.”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Too late AHHhhnnnfuck, fuck, baby, pleasepleaseplease say you’re close.”

“Why? In a hurry to fuck me?”

“After ten fucking years? Yes.”

He focuses on rubbing off on the toy, holding Barclay in place to keep it at the right angle, orgasm building sudden and swift when he works his hips just right and Barclay starts whimpering.

“Shit” he bites out as it ripples through him, aftershocks jerking his hips and making them both groan. 

Barclay climbs off and he wiggles the underwear off and kicks them off the bed. 

“Okay, big guy, now you can fuck meSHIT, lordalmighty you  feel good.”

“Fucking knew it would, knew you were fucking made for me Joe, fuck you’re incredible.” The hand that’s not balancing him on the mattress is shoving Sterns left out and up so he can drive deeper, shaking the walls on each thrust. Stern wonders if there’s a way recreate ten years of pent up desire so that Barclay will fuck him with this same furious affection every night of his life.

He’s limp post-orgasm, happy to let Barclay manhandle him to his hearts content. When the other man sits up, dragging his hips into his lap, he moans louder than he had in years. 

“That’s it babe, lemme hear how good it is, fuck, no one’s ever looked this good taking my dick, c’mon, take it all the way, take me all the way while I cum in you.”

“Ohlord.” his toes curl weakly as bucks into him faster and faster.

“Fucking years, years I’ve wanted cum in whatever hole you’d give me, now I’m gonna and you’re gonna feel it for weeks, fuck, babe, that’s it, ohhhnn Joe, Joe” there’s a final growl as Barclay holds his legs open, the last jolts of his orgasm making his fingers dig into his skin. 

As he’s coming down and pulling out, Stern slips off the mask, blinking at the sight before him. Barclay, flushed and slick with sweat, staring at him like he’s a prize he’d never thought he’d see.

“Barclay?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you be my boyfriend?” He winces at how childish it sounds. A week ago he had a fiancee, for gods sake. 

“Yeah, hell yes, wait, Joe, you just got out of an engagement. You, you sure you don’t want some time alone or to, like, explore other options?”

Stern crawls over to him, beard scratching his palm when he turns his cheek, “Barclay, I’ve always been one step away from falling in love with you, and it turns out this was the step. I trust you, I get along better with you than anyone else, and apparently we work well in bed. If, um, if you don’t want this, if it’s too late, I understand. But if you want to be together, I want that too.”

Barclay blinks. Then he blinks again. And then he’s crying and Stern pulls him into the hug.

“Oh lord, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-”

“Joe, don’t apologize. I’m so fucking happy, I’ve wanted to hear this for so long it’s just” a shaky breath, “just didn’t expect it to hit so hard. I love you, Joseph, and nothing would make me happier than being your boyfriend.”

They stay like that for awhile, talking in confessions and professions of feelings. Then Joe kisses him, and pulls him towards the bathroom to clean up (and maybe use those cuffs) before heading out to lunch.

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

Indrid opens the message on his phone, smiles, and texts four words in reply. 

I told you so

[doctordiscord123]

My Way or the Highway -- Whumptober 2020

Illinois stumbles upon something big but quickly learns to regret it.

Commission Info | Buy me a ko-fi

@whumptober2020

Tags: @demon-dark-666 @devon-rever-860 @smash-ash26 @bender-of-life @verse2wo @vociferous-chaos @itsjustkyss @takethepainawaybae @the-pan-anon @ts-famderartist @rottingmolars @revolutionbastard @toothfairy2298 @sororia04s @sirkawaiipotato @darkest-shade-of-light @bitchbyebibye @posts-random-art @xoskeletonkid @lulu-chaos-incarnation @regalrain02 @parental-tendencies @tried-my-best @mirrored-calamity  If you want to be added to the list, just let me know!

 Warnings: Blood, Kidnapping  Pairings: None  Characters: Illinois  Word Count: 1511 words

Illinois panted, wiping the sweat from his brow as he hacked at the jungle foliage, constantly readjusting his grip on his machete with the heat and humidity making his hands sweaty. He’d been out here for a good few weeks now -- first scouring the foothills of the Andes in Colombia, before turning his attention to the Amazon. Sure, El Dorado most likely didn’t exist, but that didn’t mean Illinois wasn’t going to try. He’d done his research, learning from the mistakes of those before him. 

Besides, even if he didn’t find anything, it was still a Hell of an adventure.

Grinning despite himself, despite the unbearable heat and bugs and sweat, Illinois continued to push his way through the jungle, making sure to watch every step in fear of snakes or other creatures that could kill him easily. There was nothing quite as terrifying as being at the mercy of nature, and it was a fear Illinois knew well, and he’d learned to obey and use that fear to avoid winding up dead where no one will ever find his body. Not before the animals got to it. 

Hacking once more at the vines foliage blocking his path, he winced as his machete seemed to hit something thicker. Probably a tree. He pulled the vines aside to allow him through, and -- well he wasn’t really sure what it was. It -- didn’t look right to be a tree, so heavily covered in plant life that he couldn’t see the trunk. He couldn’t even see where his machete had hit it. Looking up wasn’t any better, since the the roof of branches and leaves all seemed interconnected anyway. Illinois squinted up at the jungle ceiling, before back to the suspicious probably-not-a-tree, and rubbed at his eyes. How long had he been walking now? He could probably afford a bit of a rest before trying to decipher what this was.

With a heavy sigh, Illinois dropped his machete and his backpack, and sat down on the forest floor, leaning against the maybe-not-a-tree.

And immediately, the area flooded with golden light.

Illinois’ eyes snapped open, and he tried to scramble to his feet, but he was so used to accounting for the weight of his backpack he just fell back down. And then he was frozen in awe, watching as rows of men, soldiers, packed into the jungle, seemingly from nowhere. He assumed they were soldiers, anyway, going by the face paint, shields, and spears. In fact, they looked -- like they were straight out of murals of Aztec warfare. Ancient soldiers, stuck in time.

Illinois swallowed nervously as he realized he might’ve stumbled upon what he was looking for.

...He didn’t account for it still being populated.

One of the men in front -- Illinois could tell he was important from the way his outfit was gaudier, bigger, and the way he carried himself -- slammed his spear into the ground, glaring down at Illinois. He said something in a language Illinois didn’t understand, raising an eyebrow. When Illinois didn’t reply, he repeated himself, definitely angrier, slamming the butt of his spear into the ground, glaring pointedly at Illinois.

Illinois swallowed again, moving slowly back to his feet. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t --”

The second he tried to move, the man in charge slammed his spear again, shouting something in that other language, and two other soldiers rushed forward. Illinois didn’t have time to even think about running before they were grabbing him roughly under his arms and hoisting him to his feet, dragging him along. Illinois cried out in protest, trying to dig his heels into the jungle floor, but the soldiers were strong, and it did little to slow them down. Still, Illinois’ struggled, trying to wrest himself free of the soldiers’ grasps. “Wait! Wait wait wait, hold on, I --”

Illinois cut his own words off with a sharp jolt of fear rushing down his spine as the tip of a very sharp spear suddenly found itself at his throat. The next soldier in the strict, military line glared him down, and Illinois obediently stopped moving, relaxing as much as he could force his body to, eyes locked on the shaft of that spear. Only the steady, trained beat of their march kept him from injury, but if they stopped short -- Illinois could only imagine what it would feel like to have that spear in his throat.

Illinois was dragged through what he now realized were gates, and into the commotion of the lost city. In nearly any other scenario, Illinois would take his time fawning over how well it was hidden, the city built around the forest itself, using the great canopy as cover. He would’ve admired the beautiful gold the building were accented with, the sun glinting of of the streets themselves and the buildings’ valuable designs. Now, he was only concerned with the public display he was becoming, people exiting their homes to watch him be paraded through the streets, Illinois’ pulse pounding in his ears in time with their footsteps, and that spear so fucking close to his throat.

The soldiers stopped dead, and Illinois could help his desperate cry and impulsive jerk to get free -- but the spear stayed at his throat, only nicking his skin a little. His heart was racing, he was hyperventilating, and he cried out again as he was spun around and shoved forcefully to his knees. Disoriented, he tried to lift his head, but then what definitely felt like a foot was being braced against the back of his neck, forcing him to bend completely, his forehead pressed to the golden street beneath him.

He heard the voice from earlier, the soldier in charge, and the foot moved away from his neck. Illinois didn’t move regardless, swallowing hard. But -- then there was a different voice, one that sounded like a woman, but Illinois didn’t have time to try and process it further before there was the sound of things being thrown down beside him, and he flinched, gasping a little. A quick glance out of the corner of his revealed it was his stuff being thrown down -- his backpack, hat and machete. The woman spoke again, and she sounded -- surprised? Confused? -- followed by the angry tone of who Illinois was going to dub a general.

There footsteps, slowly approaching.

Illinois lifted his head in a panic, opening his mouth to explain himself -- or at least try to --

Only for the foot to press back against his neck, and his head was slammed back into the ground with a force Illinois wasn’t expecting. His forehead cracked against the ground loudly, his nose smashing against the stone, and Illinois cried out sharply. Distantly he could feel his wrists being yanked behind him, rough rope being wound around them, but he was a bit more preoccupied with the increased pounding in his skull and the blood he could feel pooling beneath his face.

The footsteps halted, and Illinois felt something hooking beneath his chin, forcing his head back up. 

Blood and tears were smeared across his face, terror bright in his eyes. The woman only raised an eyebrow as she lorded above him, her foot the thing forcing his attention. Her black hair was cut short, to chin level, her dress golden, simple, but regal all the same. Golden bracelets decorated her arms, heavy hoops dangling from ears, necklaces draped around her, but perhaps the most elaborate and eye-catching thing she wore was her headdress: made of a leopard’s pelts, various bird feathers, with uncut jade decorating the brim.

If Illinois thought the general held power, this woman radiated it.

She hummed softly, eyebrow arching further, and she tilted her head to speak to one of the men standing on either side of her -- guards, Illinois assumed -- though she never broke eye contact. She said something in some sort of amused tone, and, judging by the way the guards and soldiers snickered, it was probably something at Illinois’ expense. He couldn’t find it in himself to care if he was being made fun of, not when she smirked, and lifted her foot a little more, forcing Illinois to tilt his head back further.

She said something else to her guards, her smirk growing a little.

And suddenly everything was moving again as Illinois was dragged away.

He tried to fight again, tried to wrestle free of the grip on his bound wrists, but that only earned him lost footing and being dragged across the stone ground, struggling to get his footing back as his knees scraped across the road. He was dragged off to what looked like a temple, elaborate and grand -- no doubt where that woman lived. He was dragged inside, dragged through what felt like endless hallways until --

He was tossed into an elaborate bedroom, forced to his knees once more, and his wrist bound to the wooden post of the bed.

The solider left.

The door was closed.

...And Illinois was left alone to wonder what the Hell his fate was going to be.

[atlafan]

Can you do an imagine where harry wants a family extremely bad and hes to scared to tell you so instead he drops hints (lookin at baby clothes, prob even talkin bout a room being for a baby, always wanting to babysit your nephew just some ideas😂) like crazy crying to get you to realize what hes wanting?? Thank you love ❤

a/n: UM OKAY SURE

Baby Fever

Things typically moved quickly between you and Harry. You had said I love you to each other about a month in to your relationship, and moved in together about five months after that. Now two years in, you both had wanted to get a bigger place. Not that the place you shared wasn’t large, but you had moved into his home, and it was time you bought one together. 

House hunting was a lot of fun with Harry. You weren’t about price because he could afford pretty much whatever the two of you wanted. You weren’t with him for his money or anything, but being 24 and in grad school, you didn’t exactly have the funds on your own to buy a house. 

You tried to stick to the Malibu area of California. That was where the two of you spent the majority of your time. He would still keep his London home, and the apartment in New York, but the Malibu home would be yours together. Your realtor was very nice too. She would let the two of you explore the homes by yourselves at first, and not be up your butts like a lot of other realtors. 

“Oh, Harry, this place is huge! What would we even do with six bedrooms? I mean there are already rooms set aside for an office, so we wouldn’t need to double up. And it’s not like we would have that many friends or family visiting at once.” You say, weaving in and out of each bedroom.

“Well...think of it as a place to grow into.” He said, not looking at you, walking with his hands in his pockets. “We might need the extra space eventually.”

“That could be years from now though, these would just sit here collecting dust.” You sigh. “I don’t know. I don’t love the layout downstairs either. It’s a little closed off in the kitchen area don’t you think?”

“That’s because there’s a formal dining area. I think it would be nice to have that.”

“But it’s just the two of us. And when we have friends for dinner, it’s more fun to gather in the kitchen.” 

Harry was trying not to get annoyed. He wanted to have a dining room so one day you could have family dinners. He saw the extra bedrooms as kids rooms, but you just weren’t picking up on his hints. Well, you sort of were, but you were being dismissive, and not understanding his urgency. Sure, you had only been together for two years, but he knew he wanted to have kids with you. He told himself as soon as you bought a home, he would go out and find the most beautiful ring he could, and pop the question. 

“Just keep this place in mind, hm? I happen to really like it.”

“Alright, I won’t say no just yet...give me some time to think more on it. The commute is actually pretty good from my work and to your studio, so that’s a plus.”

“See, silver linings.”

//

The next week you two went to the mall to buy some packing supplies and bins. You knew you’d be moving eventually, never a bad time to get a jump on packing up the things you didn’t use every day. Harry typically didn’t go shopping with you just because of fans and such, but today he had another attempt up his sleeve.

He wanted to talk to you about having kids, he really did, but he was scared. It was your body, how could he bring up the toughest thing you’ll ever have to put it through? 

You were walking through a Macy’s to get to the other part of the mall when he stopped short. You were near the children’s shoes.

“Love?” You ask. He turns around holding two tiny baby shoes.

“Look at how cute these are! Imagine little feet in these things?” He says with a big smile, he looks like he could cry. 

“Baby shoes are such a waste of money. You know how fast a baby’s foot grows?” You laugh. Harry’s face falls. “It’s true! Just look at my nephew. He’s a big baby, he couldn’t even wear any of his newborn stuff because he was too big. That’s why I’m glad I got them bibs and rags, stuff he can’t really grow out of.” Harry puts the shoes back, and looks at them with a pout. 

“They’re still cute.”

“Most tiny things are cute.” You give him a half smile. You take his hand and walk into the mall. “I think the packing supply store is just down on the left.”

“Speaking of your nephew, when’s the next time we get to babysit. I love seein’ that little bugger.” 

“I don’t know. I can text my brother to see if we can go over for a visit this weekend?”

“Yeah!” Harry perked up completely. 

//

That weekend you go to your brother’s house. You take your nephew in your arms immediately, snuggling him to you. 

“Wow, he’s starting to hug now!” You laugh. 

“Yeah, watch your hair, he’s got a grip on him.” Your sister in law says. 

Harry gazed at you adoringly as you rocked the baby gently. You were so good with him. You were good with babies and kids in general. He knew you’d make a great mum. 

“Harry, want a turn holding him?”

“Please.” You hand the baby over, and you think Harry is going to cry he’s so happy. Anytime Harry held a baby, it looked like he had been doing it for years, like he was a mother of ten or something. “He’s so good.”

“Yeah, he’s the best baby.” You kiss his small forehead.Harry looked at you. “What?” He goes to speak, but stops himself.

“Nothin’.” 

//

A couple of weeks go by. Harry continues to drop small hints about wanting a baby, but you continue to be oblivious. You were looking at homes on realtor when an alarm went off on your phone. You sighed and got up to go to the bathroom. Harry had grown to hate that alarm. It was your birth control pill reminder. You were just starting a fresh pack, so your hormones were on edge, and you felt sick. 

“Ugh, I’m about ready to be done with this shit, it’s not worth it.” You say sitting back down. 

“What do you mean?”

“I know you hate condoms babe, but we might have to consider that being our form of birth control. I’ve been taking these pills for years, and this first week after my period never gets easier. Plus, they make me snap at you from the hormones, and I always feel bad.”

“So...you want to stop taking the pill?”

“Maybe. I’ll have to talk to my doctor. Maybe I can get that shot or something and see how that feels once this pack is done.”

“Or, like you said, we could just use the condoms.” 

“That won’t last. I can hear it now, C’mon babe, just let me feel ya, I promise t’pull out.” You mimic his accent. “God, and then with our luck we’d end up in trouble.”

“In trouble?”

“Hello? Pregnant.” You scoff.

“And that’s not somethin’ you want?” You look at him with wide eyes. 

“Um...not right now. I mean, I’d like to finish school before any of that.”

“But at some point.”

“At some point, maybe. I haven’t really thought about it.” You shrug, turning your attention back to the computer. “Oh! Look at this one, and it’s only down the road from here. Want me to call P-”

“What do you mean you haven’t thought about it?!” Harry had officially lost it. “I think about it all the bloody time!” You set your laptop down slowly and look at him. He’s absolutely fume. 

“What exactly are we talking about here?”

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N, are you that oblivious? I’ve been droppin’ hints like crazy for like an entire month.”

“Hints?”

“A home to grow into, the baby clothes, seeing your nephew all the time? Duh.”

“Harry, I know you aren’t seriously suggesting that we have a baby right now.”

“It wouldn’t be right now, it would be nine months from now.” He says very seriously. You stand up slowly, and start to pace around a bit.

“And you’ve been feeling this way for over a month?”

“Yes.”

“We’ve barely talked about marriage, and you want to have a baby?” Harry’s eyes start to well up with tears. 

“I want a life with you. I want you to have my children. I haven’t found a way to bring any of this up. You’d be such a great mum, and I’d like to think I’d be a good dad. We both love kids.” He stands up to get closer to you, but you back away. “Don’t be scared.”

“I’m terrified! I can barely take care of myself, how am I supposed to take care of another human? And you! You would leave to go on tour or something, and I would be left alone. I can’t do that, the thought of that freaks me out. Having little to know help with a child.”

“I’d be around to help. Do you really think I would jet off to leave you with an infant? Besides, once you’re done with school you’d have time to come with me more.”

“Right, because my career is meaningless compared to yours.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” You grab your keys and slip your shoes on. 

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going for a drive, I need to get some air. This is all too much.”

“We’re literally about to buy a house together, where did you think all of this was going?”

“I don’t know! I figured we would take this one step at a time. I mean, you haven’t even proposed or anything. There’s zero security.”

“Buying a house together isn’t security?”

“I’m not buying it! You are! Because I’m not rich and famous, Harry! I’m just helping with the decision.” You take a deep breath. “I need to get outta here, I’ll be back later.” 

Before he could grab you, you were out the door and in your car, driving fast on the highway. You needed to think everything over. Harry would be a great dad. he looked so broken when you left. He really did want to have a baby with you. Would it be so bad? You only had one more semester of school, you could start trying once you finished this last pack of birth control. And that house you looked at would be perfect for raising kids in. It had a beautiful backyard, plenty of room for them to run around. You took a deep breath and turned around. 

You came back to Harry preparing dinner in the kitchen, eyes red from crying. 

“Hey.” You say quietly.

“Hi.” He says not looking at you. You sigh. 

“I think we should call Pam about that house we saw a couple weeks ago.” Harry’s eyes snap up to look at you.

“I thought it was too big.”

“Well, it was stupid of me to not be thinking ahead. It would be a perfect home to raise a family in.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes, I want a life with you too. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be doing this house thing with you. I’m sorry, I just got a little freaked out. I felt like my life flashed before my eyes. I’d need to finish up this last pack of birth control, and then go see my doctor...”

“We don’t have to start tryin’ right away.”

“I just need to get through this semester at school. Once I walk across that stage, and I have my diploma, we can start trying. But I can get off the pill next month to give us a better chance later.” 

He wraps his arms around you, and holds you tight to his chest. You put your hands on his narrow hips. You kiss each other tenderly. He starts laughing, breaking your kiss. 

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothin’, just, you realize this means you’ll have to start calling me daddy.” You break away from him and make a gagging noise.

“In your dreams.”

“C’mon, it’ll be great. C’mere, come give daddy a kiss.”

“Harry, I’m so serious stop it.” You start to run away from him, but he chases you around the kitchen playfully. 

“Don’t speak to daddy like that, s’not very nice.” You squeal when he catches you. You both laugh. “Okay, okay, I’m just kiddin’, I know ya don’t like that.”

//

You stayed true to your word. Once you walked across the stage at your graduation, you and Harry began trying for baby. You were all settled into your new place, and you loved it. You also loved Harry basically attacking you just about every day after you got home from work. You had never felt more wanted or sexy. You two already had a pretty active sex life, but there was something especially hot about him wanted to put a baby in you. 

Your first couple of goes at it, the tests came back negative. But you assured it was only because you had been on birth control for so long, your hormones were still adjusting. It just made Harry work harder at it. He would sweep you off on romantic weekends away. He’d get you while you were showering. Most mornings you were late to work because he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. 

You both cried tears of joy when the test eventually came back positive. You had your doctor confirm it as well. The first trimester absolutely sucked. You threw up all the time, but Harry was there to take care of you. You were starting to feel bloated and gross, but he never failed to tell you how beautiful you were. In fact, you were having more sex than you were having before, if that was even possible. 

Harry thought your growing stomach and all that came with it was sexy. He was amazed at the way your body transformed. You didn’t mind all the sex either. Your hormones were going crazy between food cravings and cravings for him. 

“I promise, you do not look fat. You’re not fat, you’re pregnant.”

“I look like a sausage casing.” You whine. “Maybe I should just stay home.” You were supposed to go with him to some award show. 

“You look stunning, as always. Please come with me. I promise, I’ll rub your feet when we get back.”

“Alright.” 

He was always doing nice things like that for you. He’d rub your feet, and lower back. He felt awful that you were in any sort of pain because of him. He would read to the baby inside your tummy, and talk to it. He would play music for it. He was already a doting father, and the baby hadn’t even come yet. He made things easier for you. You both had fun painting and decorating the nursery together, thankful you bought the house with the six bedrooms. 

You gave birth to a beautiful, healthy baby girl. Harry cried for what seemed like an hour after she was born, he was so happy. As the baby was resting, you two were chatting. Your body had been though a lot, but you were still under a lot of the pain meds. 

“I have a little something for you, by the way.” Harry reached into his pocket and took out a little box. “You said you didn’t want to be pregnant anymore when I did this, and technically you’re not pregnant anymore.” Tears welled up in your eyes. “I love you so much, Y/N, will you please marry me?” He opened the box and showed you the most beautiful, and elegant ring you had ever seen. 

“Oh, Harry, of course I will!” He slips the ring on your finger, and kisses you over and over. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” 

[ellewritesathing]

So Close - S.S. XL

Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.

Masterlist   Prev. | Part 40

Word-count: 6.6k+

A/N: before we get into this absurdly long part, i just want to say that i really love you guys and i appreciate all of you who have binged the series lately 💕

Phase one of getting the gang back together was Scott and Stiles going to find Kira in the desert. A bonus would be if you could rekindle your bond with Liam and/or get Malia to talk to you all again, but you were still pissed about him trying to kill your brother and she was still off on her super-secret mission, so you weren’t sure if that was happening any time soon. 

You didn’t mention any of your anxieties to Stiles as you leaned on the side of the Jeep while he tore out what looked like essential parts of the engine. It was all good though, he said, because he was putting other stuff in there to make up for the parts he took out.  

“You sure this baby’s gonna make it to Mexico?” you asked in an effort to distract Stiles when he froze for a second, looking at the wrench in his hand. 

It took him a moment but then Stiles straightened up and faked some offense. He set the wrench aside. “Are you questioning my skills as a mechanic?” 

“I’m just saying maybe your skills lie elsewhere.” You put your hands up in surrender and pushed off the Jeep to walk closer to him. 

Stiles continued to fake his offense but still met you halfway, arms crossed over his chest. “Oh yeah, and where you do think that might be?”

“I don’t know,” you hummed, resting your forearms on the tops of his shoulders and running your fingers through the hair at the base of his head. “Maybe you could take up crocheting with all that leftover yarn you’ve got.” 

Stiles let out a laugh and you couldn’t help but smile at him. The smile faltered when the thought popped into your head of this being the last time you'd hear that laugh. He was leaving for the desert in less than an hour and you’d have to trust Scott to protect him from whatever was out there. 

You hated these thoughts but they always entered your mind at times like these. 

“Hey, you okay?” Stiles asked, reaching up to hold onto your arms and ducking slightly to catch your eye. “You didn’t laugh at my joke.” 

“I didn’t hear,” you said quietly. He seemed so concerned that it made you smile. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking-” 

“About me going into the big wide world without you?” Stiles asked with a small smile. His smile made you feel a little ridiculous for leaving. “You know you can come with, though, right? Liam can wait.” 

You shook your head and started taking a step back. “No, I can handle Liam and-” Stiles stepped with you and you smiled. You took a breath before continuing, “And you and Scott need to talk through what happened without me.”

“You’re sure?” Stiles asked. “I’d even let you drive … once we’re on an empty stretch of highway. But don’t think you get to control the music, alright? I love you but-” 

You cut him off with a kiss. Stiles was surprised but it only took a second for his hands to slide up from your arms and to the sides of your face. 

“If that’s your way of saying no to our road trip, I’m getting very mixed signals,” Stiles said quietly after he pulled away. His forehead rested against yours.

“Go on your road trip. I’ll be right here when you get back,” you said. You pulled back slightly to look him in his eyes. “Okay?” 

“Okay.” Stiles pressed a quick kiss to your cheek and untangled himself from you. “You wanna help me with this? I have no idea what I’m doing.” 

You laughed. “Yeah, well, that much is clear, babe.”

“Hey, I’m good at-” Stiles broke off when Scott walked out the front door. He didn’t look impressed, and it kind of ruined your moment. “So, what did Liam want?”

Scott shrugged lightly, taking the lamp from its perch to shine it under the hood. “To help.”

“You gonna let him?” Stiles asked, turning his attention back to the Jeep. You watched him hunch over and start tightening bolts. 

“Eventually, I guess,” Scott said. 

“Okay, but shouldn’t he be a little higher on your priority list right now?” Stiles asked. “You can’t just hand him off to your sister every time he gets difficult and hope for the best.” 

“I don’t just hand him off,” Scott said defensively. 

“Yeah, you do,” you said, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “It was the same when you bit him and the two of you kidnapped him.” 

“It wasn’t like that-” 

“As I was saying,” Stiles said dramatically. “As the only other actual werewolf, your only actual beta, maybe you should pay more attention to Liam.” 

You bit your tongue to keep from saying how much Isaac would hate what Stiles was saying, but you smiled at the thought of the two of them bickering over it. Then another thought occurred to you: weren't you Scott's other 'actual' beta?

“You didn’t see the way that he came at me,” Scott argued, pulling you out of your musings. “You didn’t see the look in his eyes.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been with both of you on a full moon, so I’ve seen that look,” Stiles said. Scott sighed and you looked away. “If you want to get the band back together, Scott, then you don’t leave out the drummer.”

With that nugget of wisdom, Stiles tapped on the engine a few times and went around to the driver’s seat to start the car. Surprisingly, the engine started revving after a second. The old gal had some life in her yet. 

You and Scott started cheering and Stiles came back around to celebrate. The three of you froze with your arms around one another, laughter dying down quickly when you realized that meant they had to leave now. You thought you had more time. 

“You two dummies take care of one another, okay?” you said. “I want both of you back.” 

“You sure?” Stiles asked. “I could ditch him and come back with a puppy.” 

“Hey!” 

You broke apart after that but the goodbyes were heartfelt nonetheless. Despite Scott’s promises to text you every hour with updates, you still felt uneasy about them driving out into the night together. They still had issues to sort out and you - clearly - had issues of your own. 

All you felt like doing after saying goodbye to them was crawling into bed, but Liam was still there when you got back inside. He stood awkwardly when he saw you, apologizing for trying to kill Scott and asking how you were doing all at the same time. 

You didn’t know what to say to him. Until now, you hadn’t realized how angry you were with him for hurting Scott. Although you knew you were still upset, you’d almost convinced yourself that it was entirely the fault of the supermoon. 

“Hey,” Liam said awkwardly. He waited a moment for you to say something, and when you didn’t, he started doing all the speaking for you. “Look, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to- well, I guess I did but I didn’t … I feel really guilty. And I’m so sorry for hurting you and Scott and-” 

“Look, Liam-” You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. “I’m here for you, alright? And I’m working really hard on not being mad with you but I just … I can’t do this tonight. I’m sorry.” 

Though Liam didn’t say anything, his heartbeat and face said that you’d messed this up. “Okay,” he said quietly, heading towards the door. “I’ll get out of your hair.” 

You caught Liam’s arm as he tried to walk around you. “Wait, what’s wrong?” Liam dropped his eyes to your hand on his arm. You were trying to be honest but it felt like you were just making it worse. 

“You called me Liam.” 

You frowned. “That’s your name.” 

“Yeah but …” Liam smiled sadly and shrugged. “You used to call me biscuit.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” 

Liam closed the front door on his way out before you could come up with anything better to say, leaving you alone with your guilt and anxieties.

---

Searching for Liam the next day was made much more annoying by the fact that you barely got any sleep the night before. You’d gotten so used to sleeping next to Stiles that waking up to an empty bed was more disturbing than the nightmares that woke you up in the first place. The only things that eased your mind were the hourly updates from Scott and the brief phone call from Stiles before you left for school in the morning.

He wanted to know if you’d gotten any sleep and you wanted to know if he’d eaten anything. After both of you promised to do so later, Stiles asked if you had a plan for talking to Liam. Maybe if you’d been able to talk to him for more than five minutes then he could have helped you come up with a plan, and then tracking Liam down might have been easier. 

When you eventually did find him, Liam was so preoccupied with Hayden coming back from the dead that he barely even acknowledged you. Mason, on the other hand, was so happy to see someone making an effort to patch things up with Liam that he filled you in on everything. Liam feeling abandoned by Scott, Theo’s manipulation, Liam’s IED making the supermoon nearly impossible for him to get through, everything.

But then they left for biology before you could say anything about it and you couldn’t see them until the end of the day. They had lacrosse practice straight after, though, so you sat in the bleachers until it was over. 

You were starting to think Liam would never come over to speak to you, but soon enough he was settling next you with his lacrosse bag wedged between the two of you. 

“Mason said you wanted to talk,” he said after five minutes of you trying to figure out a way to start the conversation. 

“Yeah, I do,” you said with a small sigh, shifting to face him. “I found my brother drowning his own blood, his chest ripped out, and I … I wanted to kill him. Finish the job. And I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive you for putting me in that position.” You waited but Liam didn’t respond. “I want to, though. I want to be your friend again.” 

“You have a weird way of showing it,” Liam mumbled. He was so still, so different from the freaked out kid that Scott and Stiles kidnapped. “I know that I messed up. All I want to do is fix this but I don’t know how.” 

“Believe it or not, you’re doing pretty well.” You laughed at how surprised he looked. “Scott needs time, but Stiles is still rooting for you. I’m still rooting for you.”

“Thanks,” Liam said quietly. 

You smiled at him and rested your hand, palm up, on the lacrosse bag. It was there if he wanted a hand to hold. “If you want to speed it along, you could help me with Malia and keep me from killing Theo.”

“Deal. If you help me stay out of it,” Liam said, slipping his hand into yours. “It’s harder than it looks.” 

“Trust me, I know.” 

Liam smiled but he didn’t say anything. He looked down at his empty hand, seeming impossibly sad as he did. Suddenly, you wished that your new werewolf powers included mind reading, but considering Mason’s debriefing earlier maybe you didn’t need to. 

“Coming back from the dead is scary, Liam,” you said. “It changes things more than you could ever know. At least I had you guys when I woke up, all Hayden had was Theo.” 

“She had me.” 

“I know that, biscuit, but it’s not that simple,” you said. “Just give it time. Be there for her. She’ll come around.” 

“You really think so?” Liam asked, taking his eyes off his hands to look in your eyes. You forgot how startling his eyes were. 

“Yeah, I do.”

---

Even though the new chimera was running wild and Theo’s pack was still out there, you still had homework to turn in. Seeing as things were mostly smoothed over with Liam, the two of you and Mason set yourselves up in the library and got to work. Either they had way less work than you did or they didn’t care as much because they left after two hours. When they were gone, you moved on from pre-calc to Literature essays and plugged in your headphones to drown out the other noises. 

After searching for a copy of The Scarlet Letter and coming up empty, you pulled yourself away from your tornado of papers and books and turned to the stacks to find a copy. You were finishing that damn essay even if it killed you. 

You weren’t sure how much time passed while you searched through the shelves, but soon the sun had gone down and you were one of the only people left in the library. You thought you had everyone’s location pinned down, but then someone grabbed your arm. 

In a quick move, you twisted your arm and engaged the knife that Derek had given you. You pinned down their arm and aimed the knife at their neck. And then you realized it was Stiles. 

“Woah, hey, it’s just me,” he rushed out, making no attempts to fight back. “Remember me? Your boyfriend?” 

Though you loosened your grip, you didn’t let go. You were still confused. “When did you get back? Your last text said that the Jeep broke down.” 

“Yeah, well, I wanted to surprise you … but I guess that was kind of a bad idea,” Stiles said, frowning slightly but still sounding amused. You laughed and leaned in to kiss him. When you pulled away, he asked, “Hey, is there any reason you still have a knife to my throat?”

You laughed again and pulled away, disengaging the knife and hitting your face lightly. “Sorry, I’m a little on edge,” you said quietly. Stiles was smiling at you when you looked back up at him, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. “I missed you, you know?” 

Stiles let out a quiet laugh and pulled you into a hug. “You know I was only gone like two days, right?” 

You poked your head out of his arms to look at him. “So you didn’t miss me?” 

“No, I missed you so much it was practically nauseating, but I was just checking,” Stiles said with a smile. 

You laughed and buried your head in the crook of his neck again. He was so familiar and warm; any anxieties that were a minute ago were dissolved in a few seconds. Stiles kissed the top of your head and pulled away after a while. 

“You wanna get out of here? I haven’t eaten in like four hours,” Stiles said as you led him back to your table. 

You hated when he didn’t eat. “Grab something from the vending machine and I’ll meet you there once I’m packed up?” you asked. 

“Nah, I can wait five more minutes,” Stiles said with a lazy smile. It was sweet that he didn’t want to leave you but you hurried to stuff your belongings into your bag. Stiles scooped up some of your books when you were done. “Ready?” 

“Always.” You smiled and looped your free hand in his. 

The two of you stopped for some takeout on the way home and you fed Stiles some fries as he drove, laughing when he stopped at the red lights and chugged down his milkshake. Stiles scarfed down whatever was left once you were parked in the driveway, and you saw Liam and Mason walking out of the house while he did. 

“What are they doing here?” Stiles said after slurping up what was left of his milkshake. 

“I have no idea,” you said quietly, rolling down your window. You called them over and, after some awkward hellos, you said, “I thought you guys had family dinner. What’s up?” 

“We found out what Theo’s been doing,” Liam said, not even bothering to cover up his earlier lie. “He’s looking for a blind alpha. Scott called him Deucalion, do you know him?” 

Stiles snorted behind you, causing Liam and Mason to frown at him. “Sorry, uh-” Stiles cleared his throat and straightened up. “Yeah, we know him. He kind of hates us.” 

“Is there anyone who doesn’t hate you?” Liam asked. 

“Dude,” Mason whispered harshly. 

You did your best to hide your smile. They reminded you so much of Scott and Stiles when they were younger. “Thanks, guys,” you said when they started whisper-arguing. “We’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” 

“Yeah, okay,” Liam said, nudging Mason slightly before they started walking off. 

You watched them get in Liam’s car before laughing. You hit your head against the headrest and looked over at Stiles. “So Deucalion’s back,” you said. “I know he’s like the alpha to end all alphas or something, but you think I could take him?” 

“Easy there, killer,” Stiles said as he reached over and moved some hair out of your face. “This might actually work out for us. He owes Scott, remember?” 

The idea of working with Deucalion made you want to throw up. He was responsible for the death of two of your friends. Instead of admitting that using Deucalion was a pretty good idea, you said, “I still think I could kick his little werewolf ass.” 

Stiles laughed. “Oh yeah, definitely. Give him the old one-two combo.” He threw some fake jabs at you to make his point. 

You laughed and took his fists in your hands and showed him how to throw a punch without snapping a wrist. Soon enough, the two of you were on your front lawn while you showed him a few moves and he tried to land a hit on you. 

He was actually pretty good for someone with no practice, and you weren’t too great an opponent because, man, was he distracting when he was so focused. Brow furrowed, barely hiding his slightly open mouth from behind his hands in guard, and his shirt had ridden up ever so slightly. That was the definition of fighting dirty. 

In the midst of your distraction, you tripped on one of the old sprinklers as you dodged one Stiles’ pretend punches, dragging him down with you when he tried to keep you upright. You let out a huff as he crushed some of your ribs. 

“I win!” he said cheerily. Stiles lifted a hand and started to boop your nose as he said, “Which means the big bad shadow wolf lost.” 

“Did I?” 

Stiles faltered slightly and you used that moment to slide your one leg around and use your free hands to roll him off you. Then you pinned him down, feeling rather smug after your earlier defeat. 

“Yeah, pretty sure I’m still winning,” Stiles said. 

“No, I’m on top of you and you don’t know how to flip me.” 

“Yeah, still winning.” 

You rolled your eyes and let go of his wrists. “Shut up!” Stiles was still laughing at you when you got to your feet and held a hand out to help him up. He took your hand and gave you one of his trademarked grins while he was at it.

---

As weird as your life was, it felt pretty normal when you sat with Scott, Kira, and Stiles in the diner and they caught you up on what happened in the desert. The Skinwalkers hadn’t wanted to let Kira go, but their vengeance was a problem for another day. Though Scott hadn’t had the chance to tell you about him and Stiles patching things up, it would have been evident in how they interacted with each other even if Stiles hadn’t told you. Over the next order of fries, you told them about how you fixed things with Liam while they were gone. Slowly but surely, things were starting to settle. 

Then Stiles’ phone started ringing and he excused himself to take it. It broke your heart to see him so anxious on the phone, but it was the first week of Noah being back on the job and you couldn’t blame him for worrying about his dad. 

“Hey, how did it go?” you asked quietly, reaching for Stiles’ hand when he came back. He wasn’t sliding back into his seat next to you. 

“He’s okay,” Stiles said to you, nodding slightly. Then he turned to the group and added, “They found bodies.” 

“Bodies? Plural?” Scott asked. 

“Twenty-three of them.”

It was no surprise that the four of you rushed to pay the check and pile into the Jeep to meet Noah at the hospital. The only thing that was different from your usual rushing around was that Scott got into the back with Kira. Ever since they got back, he hardly ever let go of her hand. You didn’t mind much because it meant you got to hold hands with Stiles as he drove, but it did gross you out when you occasionally caught them making out in the backseat. 

Stiles fiddled with your hand a lot more than usual as the four of you waited for the elevator to drop you off on your floor. He only really calmed down when the doors opened and he saw Noah walking away from Parrish. 

“Who found them?” Stiles asked, tearing his eyes off his dad to look at the body they were wheeling past him.

“Argent.” Noah sighed as he turned to face you. “And he said the Doctors were down there. He also said you guys might know what this thing is.”

“We’ve got a theory,” Scott said, sounding very uncertain. 

“It’s a slightly terrifying theory,” Stiles added. 

“Well, the ME said that the victims were killed somewhere else and then dumped in those tunnels,” Noah said. 

“So the Dread Doctors are hiding the bodies,” you said softly. 

“Why would they do that after what they did to the other chimeras?” Kira asked. 

“Maybe they’re covering for it,” Stiles said, sending a chill down your spine. “Protecting it like a parent would.”

“Protecting what?” Noah asked. 

“A werewolf,” Scott said. 

“It’s called the Beast,” Kira said.

Noah stared at them, and you couldn’t blame him. You were still trying to figure out something comforting to say to him when Stiles said, “Yeah, we know. Horrifying.” 

“We better figure out what we’re going to call Parrish because it looks like his dream is coming true.” Noah sighed and looked over his shoulder at Parrish and another chill shot through you. “I’ll keep an eye on him tonight. You kids need to get some sleep for school tomorrow.” 

He left and your little group started heading back to the elevator. 

“How are we supposed to sleep after that?” Kira asked, holding her arms around herself. 

“A bottle of NyQuil?” Stiles asked, pushing the buttons to take you back to the ground floor. You hit his arm lightly as the elevator doors closed. “What? I was kidding … mostly.”

---

Even though it became a near-constant experience, it was still weird to go to school and act like everything was normal when there was something gigantic and terrifying trying to kill you. As if worrying about the English assignment you hadn’t completed wasn’t bizarre enough, an announcement came on that stopped you in your tracks. 

“By order of the Sheriff, a county-wide curfew goes into effect tonight at sundown. All after-school activities are canceled until further notice. Students should go directly home at the end of the school day.” 

Someone walked into when you stopped in the middle of the hallway and you had to blink a few times to make sure you were seeing things properly. It was one of Noah’s deputies with a very intimidating shotgun in their hands. 

You mumbled an apology and rushed to find Scott and Stiles; English class be damned. 

When you found them, they were harassing one of the deputies. You heard plenty thanks to your super-hearing, but you were only present for the last part of their conversation. Scott had asked for the unofficial reason why they were carrying the shotguns and Strauss did not seem to want to talk about it. 

“I shouldn’t even be talking to you guys. Don’t you have class?” he asked. He watched you as you slid your hand into Stiles’ open palm. “What are you doing here?” 

Before he’d known about you and Stiles, he’d asked you out. He handled the rejection well but he was always weird around you now. “I go to school here, Deputy,” you said with the sweetest smile you could muster up. “It’s a little scary with all the guns around though.” 

“Right,” Strauss said uncertainly. “And what about your class?” 

“I’ve got a study period,” you lied. “I can leave if you guys want some privacy?” 

“No, Strauss knows we aren’t gonna tell anyone,” Stiles said, tightening his grip on your hand. He turned his attention back to Strauss and nodded. “So what’s your theory?” 

Strauss tightened his jaw and looked around before taking a step closer. “Do you guys believe in the supernatural?”

You bit your tongue to keep from laughing. Stiles and Scott both looked confused; Scott because he didn’t know how to answer and Stiles because he was probably trying really hard not to say something sarcastic. They looked at one another and you cleared your throat. 

“You mean like The Vampire Diaries?” you asked, in your best attempt at a dumb teenage girl voice. “I love that show.” 

“No, I-” Strauss paused, seemingly contemplating if explaining his theory to you was worth all the trouble. “Don’t you guys have study hall right now?” 

“Yeah, and we’re super late,” Stiles said, steering you around him and towards the library. “Thanks for the, uh, chat,” he said over his shoulder as he reached back to grab Scott. 

You guys didn’t say anything until you were in the safety of the library, and even then you had textbooks stacked up to block your faces as you leaned in to whisper-argue with one another in the back corner. You thought it was kind of hilarious, Scott insisted that it was not hilarious, and Stiles was bringing up his chloroform and lake idea again. 

The three of you fell silent when Liam cleared his throat on the other side of the table. You all peered around the textbooks in a totally unsuspicious manner. 

Liam stood awkwardly, his one hand on the chair and the other holding onto the strap of his backpack. “Can I talk to you?” 

“Is it important?” Scott asked. You kicked him under the table. “Ow! I mean, uh, yeah. Sure, Liam.” 

Liam frowned slightly and your heart broke as he took his hand off the chair. “No, uh, I can do it by myself. Don’t worry about it.” 

As he left, you spun back around to glare at Scott. Stiles started talking before you could bite Scott’s head off. 

“So, you’re gonna follow him, right?” Stiles asked. 

“Definitely. You guys wanna come with?”

“I’m gonna visit Lydia after school but you guys go ahead,” Stiles said with a small nod. 

“And I’m gonna see if I can get Malia to talk to me,” you said, pushing your chair back so you could stand up. “Besides, you need to fix things with Liam by yourself.”

“Yeah, but what do I say to him?” Scott whispered urgently, grabbing your arm. 

“The truth,” you said. You smiled and pried his hand off your arm. “Scott, you’re his alpha. And his friend. Just listen to him and speak from your heart.” 

“Ugh, that was way too sappy.” Stiles groaned and got to his feet. “Don’t do that, alright?” 

You rolled your eyes. “It’s up to you, Scotty. You’ll figure something out.”

---

Malia, as it turns out, inherited more than her were-coyote traits from the Hales; she also inherited the very irritating habit of not answering her phone. So, like the very good friend you were and totally not like a stalker, you broke into her locker to get her scent from her jacket. When you found her, she was leaving the animal with Braeden and Theo. 

Before they’d even registered your presence, you’d pinned Theo to the hood of one of the cars by his neck. He still looked annoyingly smug as his blood started trickling down your fingers when your claws started coming out. 

“One wrong move and I’ll rip your throat out,” you warned. 

“Got it,” Theo said with a smile. “Not moving, shadow-wolf.” 

You faltered for a second. That’s what Stiles called you the other night. He must have picked it up from Theo, but when? 

“What are you doing here?” Malia asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“What are you doing with him?” you asked. “Or did you forget that he got Liam to kill Scott?” 

Malia’s jaw tightened. “He’s helping me get Deaton back.” 

“Like hell he is,” you said. “He’s using you.” 

“I know,” Malia snapped. She took a breath and looked over at Braeden. “Do you want to come with us? We’re kind of in a hurry.” 

“No, but I don’t want you alone with him.” Very reluctantly, you took your hand off Theo’s neck but not before applying some pressure. You took a step back and looked over at Braeden. “I thought you were with Derek.” 

“Derek’s a little busy trying to get Cora through high school,” Braeden said. “Are you coming or not?” 

“I’m coming,” you said, casting one last look at Theo before you guys took off for your mystery location. 

Malia explained, briefly, where you were going and what you were going to do as she drove. She’d gotten a lot better at driving, but her knuckles were white as she clutched the steering wheel and her sentences were short. You weren’t sure if that was because she still hated driving or because she was worried about what you’d think. 

You couldn’t exactly give her a pep talk while Theo and Braeden were in the backseat, but you tried to calm her down anyway. Something you said must have stuck because you hadn’t been kicked out of the car. 

When you got to Fort Jewett, all the lights were out and there weren’t any guards. It looked abandoned, but Braeden said that wouldn’t necessarily make it any easier for you. She and Malia started arguing because Malia wanted to go in and Braeden didn’t want to take that risk.

“She took Scott’s boss for a reason,” Braeden said. “We don’t know what it is. We don’t know if she’s back in Beacon Hills because she’s missed you all this time and can’t wait for a mother-daughter reunion or if she’s planning to put a bullet in your head. We don’t know anything.” 

“We know one thing,” Malia said, taking her eyes off Fort Jewett to look at Braeden. “We know where she is. And I’m going in.” 

You reached for Malia’s hand before she could walk away. “You’re not going alone.”

Malia looked uncertain for a moment. Then she nodded and the two of you started walking again.

The place was just as creepy on the inside as it was on the outside, and having Theo so close to you didn’t make you feel any better. You were still thinking about all the ways this could go wrong when Malia stopped walking. 

“There’s something wrong,” she whispered. 

“Is it a scent?” Braeden asked. 

“I don’t know,” Malia said. She looked around again and then kept walking before you could stop her, only stopping again when you found Deaton tied up to a chair with his mouth covered. 

And then the fighting started. 

Braeden turned on Theo and he threw her to the ground after a few seconds. He hit Braeden in the head with the butt of her gun and then aimed it at Malia. He shot her in the stomach before you reached him. 

Theo managed to shoot you as well before you bent the barrel of the gun. Still, you were injured and that made it easy for him to knock you down. 

“It was me, wasn’t it?” Theo asked, walking closer to Malia. “You picked up a chemosignal. Probably regret. Y/N didn’t pick it up because she knew I was going to cross you from the start. Doesn’t mean she was any good at stopping me though.” He looked like he was going to say something else but then decided against it, opting to slide the gun over to the Desert Wolf. 

She wasn’t as scary as everyone made her seem, but then again both you and Malia had been shot in the stomach and Braeden was incapacitated. Maybe The Desert Wolf was scary. She threw a jar over to Theo and, after a moment, the talons started glowing. How did she even get those?

“You should’ve listened to Braeden,” Theo said. He tucked the talons in his pocket and started walking away. 

“Mal,” you said softly. You weren’t as hurt as she was, so you could either stay here or go after Theo. 

“You can go after him.” The Desert Wolf looked over at you and smiled malevolently. “I won’t stop you. I’d like a moment alone with my daughter anyway.”

“Go,” Malia said, drawing your attention back to her. She looked like she was about to choke on her blood. “I can handle this.” 

Reluctantly, you got back to your feet and hobbled after Theo. It wouldn’t take long, you told yourself, and then you’d be back for Malia.

It took longer than you’d like to find Theo, but he didn’t get very far and he was waiting for you. He was expecting a confrontation, but he didn’t stop you when you punched him. He even looked kind of impressed. 

“So how many times are you going to threaten to kill me before you actually do it?” Theo asked as you recovered from stretching the wound. You glared at him. “I know you want to. See, Stiles killed Donovan because he didn’t have a choice but you … you want to kill me because you can.” 

“I want to kill you because you killed my brother,” you said as you struggled to get upright again. You aimed another very sloppy punch at him that he made no effort to dodge. 

“Before that.” Theo grabbed your hand when you threw another punch and pulled you into him. “You wanted to kill me long before then.” 

“Let go of me or-” 

“Or you’ll what? Rip my throat out?” Theo asked with a smile. He leaned back and exposed his neck to you. “You can try. I let Stiles and Malia take a few shots at me too.” 

Something clicked when he mentioned Stiles, and you used that extra anger (or whatever it was) to break free and sink your claws into Theo’s stomach. He aimed a hit to your head that you ducked and then you threw him to the ground a la Derek Hale. You were ready for him to try and hit you again but not for him to pull you down to the ground with him. 

“Shhh.” He held his arms so tightly around you that your struggles were more or less useless. “Can’t you hear it? The Beast is here.” 

You froze. If you listened, you could hear it coming. 

Then you pushed yourself off of Theo, wincing as you got to your feet. You started running back to Fort Jewett.

Theo grabbed you and pulled you back. “Where the hell do you think you’re going? We should run away from the Beast.” 

You jerked your arm away from him. “I need to go back for Malia.” 

“I wouldn’t tell,” Theo said. “If you left her. You could join us.” 

“Why would I want to join you?” you asked. 

“Because you’re more like us than you are like them,” Theo said. “And you know that.” 

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you just looked away and started running back to save Malia. She, Deaton, and Braeden were all running towards you when you got back. At least you and she were both healing, even if she was doing it a hell of a lot faster than you were. 

The four of you piled into the car and started driving as far away as you could as quickly as you could do it. 

--- 

Despite his recent capture, Deaton was more than happy to patch up both you and Malia when you got back to the animal clinic. He also gave you a blood bag because you weren’t healing as quickly as the others would. It was awkward; Malia was concerned and Braeden was stealing looks at you. The four of you waited for Scott, and you were glad you did when he and Deaton reunited. It was sweet, and Liam just about tackled you when he saw you sitting on the exam table. 

Liam sat next to you on the drive home, still worried about the healing bullet wound. Though his concern was nothing compared to Stiles’. 

It was actually kind of funny to see him worrying so much when usually you were the one worrying about him. First, he held your face in his hands because ‘oh my god, you got shot?’ and then he started lifting your shirt to see if you were okay and you had to (gently) smack his hand away before he exposed your stomach and portions of your bra to all your friends. 

“I’m okay,” you promised, holding onto his hands. “Really. Deaton patched me right up.”

“You’re sure?” Stiles asked, looking up from your hands to meet your eyes. “Oh, man. I’m overreacting like a ridiculous amount right now, aren’t I? Like Scott’s been literally torn apart almost ten times now and he’s always fine. And I’m over here freaking out.”

“A little bit.” You smiled at him, lifting a hand and pushing some hair out of his face. “But it’s cute.” 

“Oh, I’m glad my pain is so amusing to you,” Stiles said. He relaxed at your touch. “It’s not like-” 

“Uh, guys,” Scott said awkwardly. “Can we take this inside?” 

“Yeah, sure,” you said. You squeezed Stiles’ hands and led him inside. 

Stiles made you a sandwich while you waited for Kira to get there, though you were pretty sure he needed to eat more than you did. You split with him while he asked about everything he could that wasn’t related to the bullet wound. When he started asking about your Algebra II class, you turned to look at him. 

“Stiles, I’m okay. I know this is scary, but I promise that I’m okay,” you said. 

“Yeah, I know that,” Stiles said with a sigh. “I just … Malia told me you weren’t healing properly. And I still- I don’t know. I’m not used to you not being human, I guess.” 

“Oh,” you said softly, looking down at your hands and pulling away slightly. “Yeah, I understand.” 

“No, that’s not what I-” 

Stiles was cut off by Scott calling out that Kira was here so you guys could get started. You moved from your spot before Stiles could reach out or say anything else. You’d smooth it over later and talk about what Theo said, but right now you needed to focus without your emotions getting in the way. 

You all huddled up around the island in the kitchen. It had blueprints and photos scattered around and then Liam placed the final piece of the puzzle on top: the Eichen Security Logs. 

Scott took a breath and nodded. “And now we get Lydia.” 

Tagged: @ietss​  @used-avocado​

[doctor243]

The End of the World

So this is an new IronWidow story that I am still putting together. I was just gonna do it as a one-shot but BOOM suddenly I had 5000+ words so why stop now, I thought lol. Let me know what you think^^

Summary: “This is how the world ends. Not with a bang, but with a......” or How I feel Endgame should have been written.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Natasha Romanoff

Chapter 1: Irony

Irony was a terrible thing.

The world was in a terrible state. Everyone had lost somebody, the economy had tanked, and the world was basically in a state of confusion and disarray. Questions that no one could answer were flooding the world, like “Why is there no more electricity in my city?”

Because the people needed to maintain the power plants were snapped away.

“Why is the highway jammed with cars?”

Because the drivers got snapped away.

“Why are half the buildings in New York razed to the ground?”

Because there are three airports in the vicinity of Manhattan and half of the pilots flying planes in the air space got snapped away.

“Why is my mother gone?”

Because…

Tony looked out the window of the common area, eyes soaking in the dishevelled state of the city. He nursed his glass of whiskey as he watched the dark clouds roll their way into his line of sight.

Because we failed.

He closed his eyes tightly with a sigh and a lone tear slid down his cheek. A stabbing pain shot through his heart as he remembered Pepper’s smile – tender, teasing and truthful. Then he nearly collapsed when he remembered being told how she had died when a car had smashed into her when the driver had been snapped away. She left only their two year-old Morgan as her legacy, who was now sleeping soundly in bed.

Because I failed.

“Why is the whiskey gone?”

Tony turned around, hastily wiping the tear from his cheek, finding Natasha glaring at the empty bottles by the liquor cabinet as if they had committed a personal offense against her. He smiled tiredly.

“It was gone before I got here,” he replied, deliberately taking a sip from his glass.

She cocked an eyebrow at him in amusement, smirking as though she was about to come back with a witty comment. But she didn’t. She just looked at him and he could see that underneath her casualness and humour, the same pain and exhaustion that haunted him haunted her too. She felt the same disappointment and resignation that he did, and she had come to the living room for the same reason as him. He stepped towards the liquor cabinet, placing his glass down on a table.

“You know what?” He asked, suddenly. “It’s not even a good time for whiskey. It’s raining – it’s perfect for hot chocolate.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him questioningly. He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed that fiery look. Her willingness to challenge anyone and anything they said; her refusal to be intimidated by super-intellect and super-strength. In the two years that Cap had whisked away the Rogues and been on the run, Tony had been angry. He had been absolutely livid. But he still knew that their absence left a hole in the fabric of the Avengers, a missing part of its soul.  

“Hot chocolate?” Natasha repeated.

“Yes,” he answered decidedly. “Hot chocolate,” he pulled out a bottle of Irish Cream, “and a pot of gold.”

Natasha smiled in agreement. “I’ll start on the hot chocolate,” she turned to the kitchen.

“No,” Tony said, looking out of the window, where the rain pelted down like bullets from Thanos’ ships and the thunder shouted angrily after the flashes of lightning. “I’ll get the hot chocolate. You build the blanket fort.”

This time both eyebrows were raised at him. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was rather proud of himself, and he made a mental note to elicit that response from her as often as possible. “A blanket fort?” She asked incredulously. “Tony how many drinks did you have before I got here?”

“I’ve never built a blanket fort before,” he pointedly ignored her, pushing her in the direction of the couches. “Then again, I never did have a childhood or friends growing up.” It wasn’t a statement aimed at garnering sympathy, just a fact.

“And you think I did?” She asked again, almost offended.

“You’ve definitely built more makeshift covers in the wild than I have,” he replied methodically, putting the kettle on and pulling out the cocoa. “Spare blankets in the drawers.”

Nat sighed in resignation as she pulled out the twenty blankets that Tony referred to and got to work. She didn’t think it’d take this much effort just to get a fucking drink.

In the end, she was definitely very proud of herself. She’d utilised the couch cushions and the chairs to produce what seemed more like a blanket tent.

“Now that is a masterpiece,” Tony approached with two mugs of steaming Irish Hot Chocolate, clearly impressed. “Let’s do this.”

Once they were inside and comfortably situated, Natasha took a sip and groaned in pleasure. “Holy shit, Stark,” she hastily took another mouthful. “This has got to be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“Well, there’s more where that came from,” Tony sipped with a smile. “I’m just impressed you found a lantern to bring in here.”

“You were taking so long I had the time to go to Cap’s storeroom,” she rolled her eyes.

Tony snorted. “Remember when he would go down there and do weekly checks on his field pack? As if we were going to send him into the woods at any moment?”

Natasha laughed fondly. “The stuff in there was from World War II!” She took another sip. “Still acting like he was in boot camp.”

They sat there in their fortress of blankets and memories, taking turns to refill their drinks of comfort, and reminiscing about days gone by. At one point they added vodka-laced whipped cream which, surprisingly, Tony made from scratch.

Time was an obscure construct for them, and at a certain point, when all the bottles (how many were there again?) of Bailey’s and all the cocoa had been expanded, Tony closed his eyes and sighed. They were both past the point of inebriation, but hadn’t that been the point?

“Irony is a bitch,” he whispered.

“What’d you mean?” Nat asked. They were both on their backs, staring at the ceiling of sheets and the lantern turned off.

“How long has it been?” he asked quietly.

“Since what?” Natasha mumbled.

“Since you guys killed Thanos?” he answered.

Natasha was silent for a little bit, sobering slightly. “6 months,” she replied finally.

Tony wished to God that he had been there, but he had just returned from Titan with Nebula. He had been too dehydrated, malnourished, and emotionally incapacitated from hearing the news about Pepper’s premature departure.

“Everybody lost somebody,” he finally explained. “It wasn’t just 50 percent of the world. Other people died too in the aftermath.”

“I know,” Natasha turned to look at him.

“Everything’s gone to shit,” he gritted out. “And yet…” he reached to his Arc Reactor and squeezed it, as though it were some kind of comfort. “And yet the irony is, he was right,” he wheezed out.

Natasha sat up. Even in her state, she knew she had to hear this, whether to agree or disagree.

“I lost Peter, Pepper and Happy,” he choked out. “But the world is slowly healing, world governments are putting selfish agendas aside and actually working together, and pollution has gone down exponentially. World peace and world hunger pretty much solved.” His body shook at every word he forced out.

“Tony…” Natasha placed a hand on his shoulder, and as she stared into his tear-filled eyes, she knew he didn’t believe himself.  

“Was the price worth it?” Tony was sobbing at this point. “Was he actually right?”

Natasha sighed and slipped her arms around his head and pulled him into an embrace, which he immediately returned, crying unabashedly. She knew that he knew the answer; he just needed to hear it from someone else.

“Of course not,” she whispered soothingly. “Nothing is worth losing lives for.” Tony sobbed even harder at this. “Not one,” she continued. “And certainly not half of all lives.” He never loosened his grip, and eventually Natasha started humming a song he’d never heard before. “We don’t trade lives, Tony,” she said at one point. They stayed that way for a while, him breathing in her scent while she played with his hair and hummed. He always knew that she’d been the heart of the team, helping to centre the strongest heads and to be the voice of unity. She’d turned the team into a family, and he lost that when she left with Steve.

“Let’s leave New York,” he said suddenly.

Natasha pulled away to look at him in the eyes. “What?” There was that eyebrow of question again.

“Let’s leave this building and go somewhere else,” he looked at her with determination from his red, wet eyes. “I have some property in Georgia, by the lake. And we can build a cabin. You can have your own room, and Morgan can be away from all the carnage in this city.”

“Tony, we have responsibilities to carry out,” she argued.

“Which we will be able to carry out with a change of environment,” he replied. This seemed like a better and better idea with each passing minute. “Cap will stay in New York and we’ll be able to contact our foreign friends when I build the hologram communicators into the cabin. C’mon Nat, I need to take Morgan to a place she doesn’t have to witness pain and suffering on a daily basis, and I can’t watch her alone. I can barely take care of myself.”

She thought about it silently, but the breaking in his voice took the strength out of her denial. The truth was that she needed a change as well, and the constant reminders of failures in her everyday life did not help. She needed time to heal. They needed to heal.

“Okay,” she whispered, returning to hugging him. He pulled her closer in response, clearly satisfied with her answer. Where do you turn when there’s nowhere left to go? What do you do when you’ve lost everything? “Okay,” she repeated.

Let me know what you think guys^^

Next Chapter: Here

Masterlist: Here

Tags: @littlemsstark3000​ @katebishopofearth​ @black-ironwidow​ @ironwidow​ @ironwidoww​ @natashastarkotp​ @ironwidow10​ @natashastark3000​ @latinatasharomanoff​ @616tonesnat​ @natashastarkov​ @generationmemes​ @queeenpersephone​

[kayr0ss]

The Masterplan (Diakko)

[LWA, Diakko, kind of an AU?, funny, absolutely disastrous, nothing goes according to plan, but their friends are so supportive!!!!! ...car chase??]

Summary: Akko is planning a confession. On the other side of the playing field - Hannah and Barbara are dead-set on their best-friend getting the girl of her dreams.So of course nothing goes to plan. Not even close. It's a complete, fast-paced, adorable disaster. [Modern AU]

--

Akko was on a mission.

She was riding shotgun in Lotte’s car, speeding through the highways of Glastonbury city with the urgency of a government spy. It was finally go-time.

She was finally confessing to Diana Cavendish.

They’ve gone over The Plan three-times over by now—Sucy, Lotte, and herself—and the warm glow of a perfect Friday afternoon felt like an omen for good-and-romantic things to come. The time was nigh—it was now or never.

Now, Akko was no fool. She knew that Lotte and Sucy were only in it so she’d shut up about The Masterplan once and for all, but she appreciated their help nonetheless. And maybe she’d take back what she just said because Lotte seemed genuinely invested in planting the seeds of love and romance.

“Flowers. Lights. Confession.” Akko muttered to herself for the hundredth time, earning an eyeroll from Lotte (who was in charge of lights) behind the wheel.

“It will be fine, Akko.”

“It’s me!” She groaned, throwing a hand up to gesture emphasis. “Anything that can possibly go wrong goes wrong with me!”

“I second this.”

“Thanks for the support, Sucy.” Akko groaned sarcastically. “I ate way too much, way too fast in my nervousness earlier and now I’m bloated and likely ruined my appetite for our dinner!”

“Dinner?” Lotte spared her a sidelong glance, zipping through the highway and causing her passengers to lurch in their seats. “That wasn’t part of The Masterplan. You completely overlooked any sort of food-prep.”

“Kuso!” Akko groaned. “I’ll just wing it! Let’s just get those flowers.”

“Take a left here,” Sucy tapped on Lotte’s shoulders. She was a botanist and therefore assigned to help with the flowers. She made plans to arrange a bouquet with her contact at the local shop, and had reluctantly sworn an oath to forego anything poisonous—with sucked—but it was for Akko, and it was just for one night.

Time was of the essence.

Lotte drummed her fingertips against the steering wheel in anticipation when they came to halt along a stoplight. The Masterplan’s execution was set for eight o’clock, and it was already four-thirty in the afternoon.

Three and half hours.

Set-up their small backyard patio with lights.

Get ready with the best flowers.

And let Akko handle the confession.

Simple. Effective.

Ultimately, disastrous.

 ---

“She said it’d be just the two of you?” Barbara leaned forward, watching with a mixture of excitement and apprehension as Diana paced around her office at the hospital.

“Yes.” The blonde woman had sunk into a trance-like state of thought. Thinking. Thinking at a hundred miles per hour. This was the opportunity she had been waiting for.

“I—I’m going to confess.”

“Finally!” Hannah practically slammed her fist down the table.

“It must be done perfectly.” Diana said with conviction. “I must get her flowers, and I should at least offer to cover our meal. Do you think she likes Japanese?”

“Likes? She is Japanese! Though she might be sick of it.” Barbara shrugged.

“Or—” Hannah perked up. “—missing it terribly after having stayed in London for so long.”

Curses. They were only at ‘food’ and it was already beginning to get complicated.

“Should I just ask her?”

“No way!” Barbara gasped. “You’re gonna blow Kagari away with a surprise without spoiling anything.”

“She is rather fond of surprises.” Diana stopped her pacing to run her hand through perfect, blonde hair.

“So what’s the plan, Dia?” Hannah urged, already sharing a grin with Barbara.

“Flowers. Food. Confession.”

Simple.

Hannah was already calling the flower store.

 ---

“What do you mean someone reserved them already?!”

Sucy glowered at the shopkeeper, and Lotte and Akko had to physically back away as though she had grown fangs.

“I’m sorry!” The clerk raised his hands defensively. “Like, just five minutes ago!”

“After everything we’ve been through, Hendrick?! I even called that I was coming by!”

“You always buy the weird stuff you know? And besides, I’ve got other roses aside from Ecuadorian ones, I think—”

“Not settling for anything other than the best.” Sucy was determined. “Names. I need names. Who bought them?”

“I can’t tell you—”

“You can and will.”

“Look, I—”

“You two!” Sucy had spun around, locking her eyes with Lotte. “Get back and get the garden ready. I’ll deal with this mystery buyer and follow in a minute.”

“’Deal with’?” Lotte gawked. “How are you even going to—”

Sucy Manbavaran would never be outdone when it came to plants. This was personal now.

“Go!”

 ---

“I’ll pick them up and meet you in a few!” Hannah grinned excitedly. “Barbs, you know what to do!”

“She does?” Diana blinked, allowing herself to get dragged by the wrist towards Barbara’s car in the hospital parking lot.

“You’re not going on a date wearing your scrubs.”

“I had no such plans to.”

“Casual won’t do either!” Barbara nagged, fishing for her keys. “You’ve gotta look drop-dead gorgeous.”

“I—I don’t think it’s necessary to.”

“Shush, hon. I just want you to relax and think Akko thoughts, or whatever.”

“Akko thoughts aren’t exactly… relaxing as of the moment.”

“Fair point.”

“Where to?”

Barbara took a quick glance towards her watch and pursed her lips in thought. “Shopping. Then food.”

“Shopping—?”

“Shut up and get in the car!”

 ---

“She’s crazy!” Akko shrieked. “She had that crazy look in her eyes, like she’s about to poison someone!”

“Well we’re going to have to trust her because it’s five-fifteen and the patio is far from ready!”

Lotte was back behind the wheel, zooming through traffic towards her trinket shop. It was a lot less time than she was comfortable with. Lacing the gazebo with firefly lights and battery-operated teacup candles likely took longer than her mental estimate.

“How are you feeling?” She glanced towards Akko. “You’re looking pale.”

“I—I’m fine.” The brunette said in a contorted voice. Lotte brushed it off as nervousness (which was a rare enough emotion for Akko).

“You sure?”

“Yup!” Akko nodded in determination, steeling her resolve. “Kami-sama, why can’t we just be dating already?”

“Just a few more hours until you are, Akko.”

“If she likes me back!”

“Which she will.”

“But have you seen her Lotte?” Akko began to ramble.

“Many times, yes.”

“How is she even real—what am I doing?! Oh no, oh no, oh no am I seriously going to confess—”

“Breathe!”

Lotte gave her best friend the surest smile she could muster.

“She will.”

 ---

It was now five forty-seven.

“You.”

Sucy narrowed her eyes, staring straight into hazel. She had camped out in the flower shop, figuring that whoever placed such an urgent order would show up any minute to pick them up. True enough, a familiar woman in a white-coat with auburn hair came bursting through, shouting for her order of Ecuadorian roses.

“Sucy.” Hannah sneered, crossing her arms. “What��s the meaning of this?”

“Those flowers you ordered are mine. I got here first.”

“No way!” Hannah challenged. “I put in the call. He said they were available.”

“How can that take precedence over a client already in-store and paying on the spot?” Sucy turned her calm but heavy glare towards Hendrick, who was sweating bullets while looking between the two women.

“I already paid!” Hannah pulled out her phone triumphantly, showing the screenshot of an online payment transfer. Sucy cursed herself for not having the foresight to have done so earlier.

“I—I don’t make the rules ma’am.” Hendrick conceded, carefully presenting the lovely bouquet of twenty-four roses to the woman who happened to be Sucy’s friend—if only through the sheer force of Akko’s gravitational-friendship-pull. The poor shopkeeper looked pale, trapped between the two very different yet equally threatening auras.

“I’m leaving. Buy something else!” Hannah had turned around dramatically, stepping out through the door with her hair bouncing through the motions.

“You never told me you had online orders.” Sucy told Hendrick evenly.

“I—It was launched recently.”

“Screw that,” she said with gritted teeth. On whim, she decided to follow Hannah, walking into the street and whistling as loudly as she can towards the nearest cab.

A middle-aged man with a bushy moustache looked up from behind the window. “Where to, missy?”

“No questions!” Sucy jumped into the front seat. “Follow that car—and don’t fucking call me missy!”

---

“You’re being—what?” Barbara shrieked as quietly as she could. Just as Diana entered the dressing room a minute ago, her phone began ringing with Hannah’s photo popping up. “Chased? By Sucy? For the flowers?”

[“Yes! She’s a madwoman! Probably going to blow something up with another potion or—"]

“Don’t call me while you’re driving!” Barbara hissed, looking back towards the dressing room which was slowly opening.

Diana stepped out, looking lovely in a sheer white top and cream slacks. She asked how she looked and Barbara had quickly tossed another top for her to try, desperately trying to keep up with Hannah’s rambling on the other line.

“You look great—love the pants—try this blue one! Come on, come on! In you go, nothing to stress about!”

“Stress about?” Diana blinked, frowning. “Is that Hans on the phone?”

“Yeah, it’s all going swell!” Barbara’s voice pitched a little too high. “In you go!”

“O—Okay.”

She had practically slammed the door into Diana’s face, and with a deep breath she diverted her attention back to Hannah.

“Don’t overspeed, and why are you two having a car chase?! It’s just flowers!”

 ---

“Just flowers?!” Hannah repeated, aghast. “Not when it’s for one of the most important days of our best friend’s life, they aren’t!”

She took a sharp turn at the nearest street, going nowhere in particular if only to shake Sucy off. It was an unfortunately wide road and she was opposite the rush hour lane, leaving it relatively traffic free. She had no intention of breaking speed limits and was forced to stay at seventy. Soon enough, the cab pulled up at her right.

Sucy rolled down the window, looking as worked up as Hannah had ever seen her in their time knowing each other. The driver seemed like he was having the time of his life. “I’ll pay for its price plus ten pounds on top!”

“You think I’m cheap?!” She shouted back, doing her best to keep her driving steady.

“Twenty!”

“You can’t buy me, Sucy! Not for this occasion—not ever!” She grit her teeth and banked towards the left, putting a truck in between them.

Barbara was still in the call.

[“By the nines, Hannah!”]

---

“Whoa!” Akko blinked, head whipping to the side while she followed a familiar-looking SUV speed down the road, seemingly chased by a cab. “Shit’s crazy today!”

“Come on, Akko!” Lotte led her out of the trinket shop’s front and back to her parked car. It took them around forty-five minutes just trying to find the perfect set of lights and the clock was ticking. Akko’s nerves were beginning to fray, and the woman was jumpy, reckless (more so than usual) and generally hyper—

“Akko, be careful!”

—active.

By the nine.

There was a loud thud—and the resonance of something very hard bumping into metal.

That was it.

The Masterplan would have to wait.

Akko ran into a lamppost and passed out with a bleeding nose.

 ---

“I haven’t heard from Akko.”

It was now seven in the evening and Diana was beginning to fret. She and her friends had returned to her flat to get her ready, but she thought the brunette would at least message her. Should she send another text? She did just half-an-hour ago, informing the brunette she was heading home to get ready. Is a call too forward?

Goodness. She shook her head—why would it be too forward? They were by no means strangers. Far from it! She blushed, this whole thing was getting to her and she hated it. Deciding she could very much call Atsuko Kagari whenever she pleased, she slipped out her phone and dialed.

“She has a heart emoji after her name?” Hannah snickered.

Diana ignored it, flushing red. Her phone rang. And rang. But Akko never picked up.

She exhaled in frustration, wondering if Akko had gotten herself mixed up in another form of disaster. It wasn’t a far-fetched assumption. Or did she ditch her? No, she wasn’t like that. Was she?

Her eyes fell towards the navy-blue top she had picked from the store, and then towards the most beautiful bundle of roses she had ever seen.

It looked perfect. Except—

“Did you really get into a car chase for this?”

“Yup!” Hannah raised a fist in victory. “And I won too. Sucy just up and backed off.”

“That’s suspicious.” Barbara narrowed her eyes. “But I still insist you are absolutely insane for pulling that!”

“What matters—” Hannah crossed her arms. “—is I got the job done.”

Diana sighed, growing anxious and excited at the same time. She glanced back towards her phone. “Let’s just hope I get to give them.”

 ---

“A lamppost.” Sucy stared at Lotte evenly. “Unbelievable. I got into a fucking car chase only for this moron to walk into a lamppost.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?”

“It’s Akko. She’ll be fine. Hasn’t she broken like, every bone in her body at this point?”

Well. She wasn’t wrong. They were in the Glastobury hospital and Lotte hoped Diana would be on-duty, but upon asking the nurse’s station she clocked out early for today.

“What did Diana say?” Lotte asked Sucy.

“Huh?”

“You didn’t text her?”

“I thought you did.”

“Sucy!”

“You’re the one with her number.”

“But I—”

“Are you her flat-mates?” A young-looking doctor peered through the door of Akko’s recovery room. She broke her nose—but there was no need for a rhinoplasty and therefore she didn’t need admission. Broken nose aside, Akko was in surprisingly good health, bearing an almost-Olympic endurance which in hindsight explained her ability to recover from seemingly anything.

“Yes!” Lotte nodded diligently.

“Well you can take her home now. This one is crazy—she’s already sitting up after an hour of recovery. But I do need to warn you she’s—uh—”

“She’s?” Sucy prodded, hiding her concern under the guise of impatience.

“High as a kite?”

---

Akko was having a good time.

A good time.

She laughed, her head feeling woozy, her hands moving as though they were floating in water and—it was just so funny! By the nines this was the shit!

Her nose kinda felt funny though. Weird.

“Akko?”

Huh? Is—it’s a friend! Akko grinned. Her best friend! “Oh Lotte.”

“That’s just trippy.” Another voice said.

One eye only? Oh it must be Sucy!

“Your hair—” Akko smiled whimsically. “It’s freaking whack, Sucy.”

“Why does she still sound like herself?” Sucy turned to Lotte.

“I told you to be careful!” Lotte wailed, moving to her side to help her up.

“This is place is so bright.” Akko narrowed her groggy eyes, her head lolling about while she inspected her surroundings. Then she gasped. “Where’s Diana! This is Diana’s work!”

“She isn’t here.” Lotte placated. “And sit down—you’ll hurt yourself again!”

In the snap of a finger, Akko was done laughing and suddenly began to pout.

“I miss Diana.”

“I’m sure she’ll be here any second—”

“She said she’d go hooooome first.” Akko pointed towards her phone, sitting on the bedside of the outpatient recovery room.

Lotte sighed. “Come on, you need to go home too.”

“Can you do me a favor?” Akko asked innocently before leaning in and whispering to the two as though to share a secret. Then she broke into another grin—a charming, lopsided grin that screamed ‘painkillers!’

Lotte looked towards Sucy. The latter just shrugged. “Why the hell not? Saves her the time to go here and she’d know what to do with Akko.”

---

It was now seven-forty-six.

Barbara sped down the highway to the hospital, feeling every bit sorry for Diana who was cradling her head in her palms in the passenger’s seat. Although it was a little funny, and apparently Hannah thought so too, based on the snickering in the back.

“That’s just like her, though!” Hannah finally grinned.

Hannah was right. And honestly, Diana knew she’d be fine. But of course this would happen—and only to Akko. The world wasn’t so kind as to allow the night she finally decided to confess to be easy, right?

Dr. Strenger had dutifully informed her that a patient he recognized as Diana’s friend was admitted for a nasal fracture. All she needed to hear was ‘brown hair’, ‘red eyes’, and ‘lamppost’ and it was enough. Thankfully, it seemed Akko’s recovery was marvelous (unsurprising) and that Lotte and Sucy had accompanied her.

They pulled up into the parking lot and Hannah groaned. “Back to our workplace, yikes. You better do good by that bouquet, Diana! I almost died for that!”

She huffed, stepping into the familiar entry way dressed way too nicely for the hospital and holding a gigantic bouquet of flowers.

The receptionist blinked. A few of the nurses had turned their heads at the sight of her. “Dr. Cavendish?”

“Spare me the comments.” She lamented. “What room us is—ah.” Why was she blushing? In front of her colleagues! “Atsuko Kagari.”

“Oh, miss Akko!”

Right. Between accidents and visiting Diana, the staff knew her by now.

“She came in a pretty bad shape, but she didn’t need to be admitted. Dr. Strenger sent her home.”

“She isn’t here?”

“Actually,” the receptionist tilted her head. “On their way out she was screaming rather loudly that she was going to straight to your place?”

Her—what?

---

“I don’t think this is Diana’s house.”

Sucy elbowed Lotte, the pair of them standing behind a still-delirious Akko who rang the doorbell to a three-story tall apartment. It looked every bit as posh as its red-brick façade suggested. It was imposing. Classical. Nestled in a street of similarly luxurious dwellings that had cars Lotte had only seen in magazines—parked in garages or even right at the streets.

“But this is where Akko directed us to.” Lotte shrugged.

The door finally opened, and they tried so very hard not to face-palm.

 ---

“Atsuko.”

Akko grinned, feeling woozy, and reaching forward to shake the hand reluctantly offered to her. As she’s told herself earlier in the day, she was no fool. She knew she was tripping—her guess was either anesthesia or painkillers—or wait, were those the same things? Or like… not? Huh. She should ask Diana alter and—oh-right-she-was-still-shaking-Aunt-Daryl’s-hand!

“Hello!”

“A—Are you quite alright?” The elder Cavendish tentatively asked, eyeing her nose.

“Oh yah.” Akko waived a hand, giggling. “Lamppost.”

“Of course.”

Akko swore that was a little smile! It was a lot of work, but they at very least didn’t hate each other anymore. Unlike at first. Charming—that was Akko’s middle name! Actually it wasn’t, but—

“It may as well be.” Daryl commented.

Holy shit, did she say that out loud?

“You did.”

“Anyway—” Akko squeaked “—I came to visit Dia?”

Daryl blinked, then looked over to the two friends Akko had brought with her.

“I think you should come inside.”

Akko nodded, the action of it made her still-groggy head spin and eventually she lost her balance, falling forward—

—and getting caught by the wrong Cavendish’s arms. So wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. Not this one!

“I’mma take you up on that offer.” Akko mumbled, apologizing profusely while she righted herself.

 ---

A soft 'ping' alerted Diana to a text message.

Daryl Cavendish (1)

“What on earth does she want at this hour?” Diana mumbled to herself, sulking once again in Barbara’s passenger seat. “As if I don’t have enough to worry with Akko—oh by the nines!”

The sheer volume of her voice was enough to make both Hannah and Barbara snap in attention.

8:26 Daryl Cavendish: Diana. Someone very interesting has come to visit, although I’m afraid she forgot your updated address.

“Christ.” Barbara groaned. “That’s at the opposite end of where we’re going. I love you but I’m getting real tired of driving you around.”

8:27 Daryl Cavendish: I look forward to hearing your side of this story. 8:27 Daryl Cavendish: 😉

Diana’s ears turned bright red. Hannah looked over her shoulder to read and outright laughed.

“Just drive, Barbs. Have mercy on Diana’s poor soul.”

---

“She said that?” Daryl’s eyebrows inched upwards every so lightly.

“She totally did! Diana’s a lot cheesier than people think.” Akko smiled smugly.

She had checked her nose via a mirror in the living room, and all she could do was laugh. Cause she didn’t feel like she had a nose. Or an… anything. It was so weird to move her hands around and like, not feel them moving.

Daryl paused for a moment to check at her phone. “Hm. Diana will be here shortly.”

“Yeesh.” Akko grinned, rubbing at the back of her head sheepishly. “I can’t believe I forgot she moved out last year.”

“You helped her move.” Daryl said pointedly.

“I know!” Akko shrugged. “I forgot that too. Head’s all woozy. Having a good a time though!”

“I… am glad to hear that?” The elder Cavendish turned towards Lotte and Sucy. “Are you two alright?”

The two women held up their hands, shaking their heads with jumbled responses of “Yep!” and “We’re fine!” and “Just go ahead and talk!” and “Take your time!”

---

“Well this takes me back.” Barbara peaked up at Daryl’s excessive apartment through the driver’s side window. “Alright”, she elbowed Diana. “Go get your woman!”

Diana looked absolutely spent. But also, a bit relieved. She’ll finally see her—the circumstances didn’t matter. Somehow all this craziness felt just like Akko and after hours of chasing her around she was… just excited to see her again.

She felt a swell of affection in her chest. The same feeling that pushed her to think about confessing in the first place.

“Will—Will you two come with me?”

Hannah clapped her shoulder. “You think after this entire afternoon we’d ditch on you now?”

Barbara grinned at her, encouragingly. “Come on, lover girl.”

“Please don’t ever call me that again.”

---

“Diana!”

Akko practically wept, running across Daryl’s living room (“Akko, no!”) and into the (proper) Cavendish’s arms.

“I missed you todaaay!” The brunette whined.

The reaction was a bit excessive, even for Akko, and at Diana’s confused reaction Sucy had helpfully supplied that she was—“Still high as kite. Painkillers, or whatever.”

Akko pulled back, lip trembling. “You’re so pretty.”

“Th—Thank you. Goodness, your nose!”

“Lamppost.”

“I heard,” Diana said softly, hand coming up to cup Akko’s cheek. She had been so worried. She inspected the wound with such tenderness that she could hear Barbara swooning in the back.

“Ahem.”

Right.

“Aunt Daryl. Thank you for taking care of her.”

“No worries.” Daryl replied with a lilt in her voice, smirking. “I’ve grown rather fond of this one.”

The miracles of Akko’s charm, Diana supposed.

The next thing she noticed was Sucy glowering towards Hannah—and the flowers. Her eyes widened, suddenly remembering their car-chase, and that the entire point of the evening was supposed to be—

“Easy now.” Diana said carefully, intent on alleviating whatever tension remained. “At least we know Akko’s alright.”

 ---

Oh she’s pretty.

What the hell! She’s already in her arms but she’s so so pretty and Akko could just breathe in the smell of her hair and oh Diana is right here!

Never-mind Daryl, and Sucy, and Lotte, and Barbara, and Hannah—Hannah?

Akko blinked, looking towards the auburn-haired woman. Then she grinned. Flowers! The sight of the bouquet triggered what felt like a distant memory through the hazy fog of her mind:

Flowers. Lights. Confession.

Diana.

She gasped.

Akko then suddenly grabbed the bundle straight out of Hannah’s hands—faster than anyone thought she could move.

“Hey!”

But she didn’t care, she pulled on Diana’s arm, urging her to look back towards her—and oh the lights were so pretty in this house—it felt perfect, it really did, the only word that echoed in Akko’s addled mind was:

Confess!

“Diana.”

She said softly, as if in a moment of clarity. She shoved the flowers towards the blonde.

“I love you!”

---

I love you.

Diana’s jaw had dropped.

She said I love you.

All she could see was the blinding grin that Akko was shooting her way and really—really Akko? Right now? In this situation?

But she couldn’t believe that she was smiling back. Because she realized she didn’t care. Akko had just told her she loves her.

This entire day was a disaster.

But she loves her.

She loves her!

Diana wants to say she loves her back. Goodness, when did her mouth stop working? She settled for pulling her closer—keeping her steady, Akko was still a little out of it—but she couldn’t help it. Diana pulled Akko in, cupping her cheek and—and—

Diana kissed her.

It wasn’t easy—she had to do so gently to avoid disturbing the gauze and plaster on top of Akko’s broken nose.

But Akko’s eyes had fluttered to a close so prettily, and she actually kissed her back. They pulled apart—Diana was suddenly aware of the people and their surroundings—and Akko looked up to her. Smiling. Surprised. And then—

Between the blood-loss, being heavily drugged, and Diana kissing her?

Akko’s eyes rolled back into her head and she fainted.

-

fin

-

A/N: Every time I write something I realized I like to focus on singular, detailed moments that are slow and soft. Then I read this hilarious twitter thread about a guy who interviewed George Clooney despite rupturing his gall bladder who got high as kite on his pain killers, and then I throught "That's some big fucking Akko energy", and likewise decided, "what if I just wrote whatever the hell I wanted and get tripping" and here we are

Hope you enjoy this - this is something a bit different for me and I just sat down for like four hours straight and spweded this out, am i ok, LOL

[softbiker]

Born to Run - Chapter 6

Warnings: some language, breaking and entering, panic attacks, also sloppy editing and bad writing

Word count: 2.7k

A/N: Oof this chapter. I’m not sure how I feel. But anyway! Here we go. As always, let me know what you think! Thanks for supporting this series!

“You are coming up for the shower next month, aren’t you? I don’t think Sarah sent you an invitation but she told me to ask you.”

Y/N tilted the receiver of her phone away from her mouth and sighed.

“I’ll try to make it, Mom. It’s just a really long drive for a weekend.”

“Well, sure. I understand, honey.” Her mother wouldn’t say she was disappointed, but Y/N could practically feel it through the phone. “Just...let me know okay?”

“Sure, I will.”

“Everything at the clinic still going okay? Have you met any friends?”

She thought about that for a second - slow days at the clinic, the new group of not-technically-criminals that had somehow adopted her.

“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine.”

**********

Having never been a medic for a biker gang, she was a little unsure what to expect. How often would they need her? What would the hours be like? Were they trying to induct her into the gang? For several days after she accepted the Avengers offer, Y/N bit her nails and paced and worried over it, agonizing over her decision. She waited for them to show up on a daily basis with life-threatening injuries and half-baked explanations. She took to hovering near the reception desk at the clinic, watching for them to come through the door.

But, to her surprise, everything stayed quiet.

Bucky was helped from her couch and back to his own by Steve and Sam, and she checked on him for a week or so, monitoring how his wound healed. But beyond that, the Avengers made themselves scarce. They had made such a fuss about needing her, recruiting her, that she anticipated they would practically want her moving into the clubhouse. The fact that they were mostly leaving her alone felt...suspicious. She waited for the calm to break, for a storm to hit.

By the time Natasha Romanoff walked into her clinic, Y/N was starting to wonder if this mysterious club needed her at all.

You couldn’t help but notice when a woman like Natasha entered a room - all full lips and hourglass figure and studded leather jacket. She breathed confidence into that tiny waiting room with every step of her motorcycle boots, pushing her sunglasses up to hold back that sweep of fiery hair. Much to her frustration, Y/N noted she felt slightly intimidated as the redhead strutted her way up to the reception desk.

Natasha’s eyes slid past Charlotte, whose mouth was hanging open, and directly to Y/N, standing slightly further back as she put away a set of files. Her smile was picture perfect.

“Good afternoon, doctor.” She tilted her head to the side and raised a brow. “Any plans for the night?”

And that was the story of how Y/N found herself on the back of a motorcycle for the first time.

Heart in her throat, hands around Natasha’s waist, they sped down the highway taking turns at a speed that made her close her eyes. They had stopped off at her house first, letting her take her car home and change. Natasha tossed a spare helmet her way and they were off.

“The clubhouse” they called it, and she had no idea what to expect, what it would look like. Her brain could conjure up plenty of ideas, and none of them were particularly pleasant. In her head, she saw a ramshackle dive bar overflowing with men who could only be described as sketchy, complete with too much booze and loud rock music.

But you signed up for this, she reminded herself. Couldn’t turn down the money.

“Almost there!” Natasha’s muffled voice shouted over the wind. The road ahead of them took a long, banking curve around a newly-cut cornfield, and then she saw it.

The motorcycles parked around the building were a dead giveaway. For the most part, it wasn’t as seedy-looking as she expected - the clubhouse looked like a dated community center with its painted brick and metal roof. A sign by the door proclaimed it as the “Avengers M.C.”, and a few neon beer signs hung nearby. Scattered near the door were a handful of smokers, all in leather jackets, who looked up as Natasha pulled into the parking lot. She parked the bike close to the entrance and leaned up, prompting Y/N to pull her arms away.

“Don’t be nervous in there, okay?” Natasha said, smoothing her hair after she removed her helmet. “They’re a pretty chill bunch, and they know not to bother you.”

“They do?” Y/N handed her helmet to Natasha and swung her leg off the bike.

“Sure. Steve and Bucky gave ‘em this whole speech - basically, if they mess with you they’ll get their asses kicked.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. Why should they care? It put her back up a little bit, that these strange men felt they needed to protect her for some reason. She’d been taking care of herself long enough, she’d be just fine.

When Y/N walked into the club behind Natasha, though, she changed her mind. Eyes were on her from every corner of the place, turning from pool games and poker and TV to watch her as they crossed the room to find a bar at the back. The back of her neck prickled at the feeling of every gaze on her, and she subconsciously took a step closer to Natasha.

They leaned up against the bar, club members moving aside to make a space for them, and Natasha gave a winning smile and wave to the man wiping down glasses on the other side.

“Hey, Nat - whiskey?” he asked, already grabbing a bottle from the shelf.

“Make it two, Clint.” Nat turned slightly to Y/N. “You do like whiskey, right?”

“Sure.”

The bartender, Clint, looked more like a dad than a biker in her opinion, but Y/N said nothing as he poured their drinks and slid them across the bar, giving her a kind smile.

“So, you’re the new medic, right?”

“That’s me.”

“Heard you saved Barnes’ ass a couple weeks ago.”

“She sure did.”

She jumped at the sound of a voice over her shoulder, having not noticed a presence that close. Bucky smiled when she turned and met his eyes, tucking a strand of his hair back where it had fallen from its low bun. He looked more handsome than the last time she’d seen him - not that she was looking - but not having a life-threatening stab wound will do that to a guy. He had a hoodie on under his same old leather jacket, making him somehow softer around the edges. As he shuffled onto a stool, he made a quick gesture to Clint, who grabbed another glass and the whiskey.

“Hi,” he said softly, eyes flicking between hers. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah, well. You’ve managed to go nearly two weeks without getting stabbed.”

He grinned as Clint slid him his own whiskey across the bar.

“I have to get stabbed for you to visit your neighbor?”

“Afraid so.”

“Pretty high price, doll.”

She blinked at the pet name, wondering if she had heard him correctly. Who even says stuff like that anymore?

“Did you - did you just call me ‘doll’?”

An embarrassed smile curled Bucky’s mouth as he shifted in his seat.

“Sorry, it sort of slipped out,” he laughed. “Is that okay?”

She tried not to look too terribly pleased when she said “yes”.

Behind them, Nat and Clint shared a smile across the bar.

**********

Standing outside the little house, he saw that a light had been left on in the living room. Her car was parked in the driveway, but he knew that no one was home. His lieutenant had seen her leaving on the back of Romanoff’s bike. Probably on her way to that clubhouse.

It was just like he thought. Took all of 5 minutes for her to get involved with Rogers and his crew. Shame, he thought, popping his bubblegum. She seemed like a smart girl. Pretty, too.

But, oh well. She made her choice.

**********

“What do you mean you’ve never seen Star Wars? How can a person not see Star Wars? It’s a classic!!”

She could barely respond to him, nearly doubled over in laughter.

“I don’t know, okay! My mom hates sci-fi so that stuff was practically banned from my house.”

“Wow. Wow.” Bucky shook his head. “We’ve gotta fix this. I can’t let you go through life not knowing Star Wars, I feel like this is my responsibility now.”

They fell into conversation so easily, she wondered why he had barely spoken to her before. In minutes he had her in stitches and smiles, always asking her about herself and listening with that intent look in his eyes. Bucky had made her laugh more in the last couple of hours than she had in...months, maybe longer. It was just so easy to talk to him. Like they’d known each other for years.

“Fine then, Barnes - my sci-fi education is in your hands.”

The clubhouse had slowly emptied over the course of the evening, until only a handful of them were left. Bucky and Y/N had moved from the bar to a couple of couches where Steve and Sam dropped down next to them. Clint was in an armchair with Nat perched in his lap, and a girl named Wanda sat in the floor, leaning against Steve’s legs. They had been discussing movies, a hobby of Clint’s, when Y/N had revealed her lack of Star Wars knowledge. As it turned out, Bucky was quite the nerd, wrapped up in tattoos and leather. The others watched them banter with secret smiles, eyes bouncing between the two.

Clint yawned loudly, head falling back in the chair.

“What time is it?” he whined. “I had to get up early this morning.”

“About 11:30,” Sam said, checking his phone. Y/N’s eyebrows went up.

She had spent the entire night with these people, some of whom she had never met before. And all of them seemed so...normal? Granted, a different standard of normal, but still. They passed around beers and shared inside jokes, and made her feel welcome. Made her feel...at home. Glancing between the members of the little circle, she could see how close they were, like a family. And they wanted her here, wanted to bring her in.

She wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

“Alright, I think I need to be heading home,” she sighed, standing from the couch and stretching.

“Aw, you’re leaving us?” Wanda pouted from her place on the floor.

“Yeah, you could just stay over at the clubhouse,” Nat suggested.

“Well,” Y/N shifted, uncomfortable. “I...just really like sleeping in my own bed, you know? And I didn’t bring any extra clothes or anything, so.”

There were a few more protests from the group, but she shot them all down as gently as she could - she couldn’t help it. She just wasn’t ready for a biker sleepover. The only person who didn’t try to convince her was Bucky, who hopped up from the couch and started pulling his jacket on.

“You leaving too, Buck?” Steve raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, yeah, I -” his cheeks flushed a little. “I thought I’d drive you home.”

Oh.

“Nat did bring you on her bike right? So you don’t have your car?” He continued.

Y/N had forgotten that, but yes. She did need a ride. And he was the most convenient, considering he lived across the street. She watched as he adjusted the sleeves of his hoodie underneath the jacket, pulled the hood out from under the collar. The way he was looking at her, that hopeful little light in his eyes…

“Sure, I guess I do need a ride,” she shrugged, trying to ignore the way his face lit up.

“Then let’s roll, doc.”

Being on the back of Bucky’s bike felt...different from Nat’s. His was more of a classic body style, a cruiser, with much more room for a second passenger. But more than that, the way she fit perfectly with her legs and arms wrapped around him, it felt - well. It was just different. She wouldn’t let herself choose a word other than that.

The drive back home was quiet along those stretches of country highway, and she found herself relaxing further, laying her head against Bucky’s back. He reached up and squeezed one of her hands twice, before putting his own back on the handlebar. It should have felt strange - too much, but it didn’t.

When he pulled up to her driveway, she almost didn’t want to get off the bike. The engine and the night air and Bucky had lulled her into a sort of trance. She felt like she was sleepwalking as she slowly shifted back and loosed her hold on him. He held out a hand and helped her get off, his eyes tracking her face.

“Did you -” he stopped to clear his throat. “Did you have a good time tonight? Hanging out with us, I mean?”

“I did, actually. They’re not what I expected,” she spoke softly, not wanting to move. “You’re not what I expected.”

“Is that so?” His smile was lazy, sweet. He ducked his head a little, an effort to hide the slight flush in his cheeks.

“Mhm.” She was lingering, waiting in her own driveway for something she wouldn’t name.

“Well, good night Bucky.” With enormous self-control, she backed away, fishing for her house keys.

“‘Night, doll.” He never looked away from her as she crept away, up the porch, and to her door.

The second she was inside, she knew something was wrong.

She couldn’t put her finger on it, not there in the doorway, but her gut was surging with anxiety. Something - that smell, what was that smell? Not her own, not her house - something here didn’t belong. She shuffled forward in the dark, creeping along the wall until her hand found the lightswitch and-

“Oh my god.”

Her house, her lovely little house was destroyed. Furniture overturned, photos and paintings on the floor, vases broken. There were marks on the walls as though someone had left streaks of paint. Broken glass littered the carpet, turning the room into a minefield. And, oh god, oh god - black spray paint across the far wall-

LEAVE WHILE YOU CAN BITCH

A skull and crossbones underneath.

She wasn’t proud of the way she started to cry.

Bucky could tell something was wrong when Y/N left the door hanging open - a young woman going into her home at midnight doesn’t leave doors open, not one as smart as her. He waited a minute, then two, in her driveway - he told himself it was just a precaution, just in case…

Then he tiptoed up the porch, calling her name; he pushed on her open door, one hand reached for where his gun was tucked into the waistband of his jeans.

She was in the floor, the epicenter, the eye of this hurricane of her furniture and her home and her life. Curled in on herself, Y/N sat with her arms around her knees, breath coming in stutters and tears running down her face. Bucky dropped to his knees in front of her, hand leaving his gun and reaching for her instead.

“Hey, hey you’re okay,” he soothed, hands rubbing up and down her arms. “You’re alright.”

“Oh my god, oh my god,” she kept whispering to herself, lips trembling. It was so hot and her chest was so tight, and she couldn’t - couldn’t breathe.

Bucky scrambled around on the floor, crawling behind her and wrapping her tight in his arms, locking his legs around her own. He crossed her arms over her chest and pressed her in, in, in - folded her up so he could surround her. With her head tucked under his chin, he rocked her back and forth on the floor.

“Everything’s okay, I’ve got you,” he repeated again and again. He closed his eyes. “I’ve got you, you’re safe.”

You’re safe you’re safe you’re safe.

[beloved-judged]

On the topic of possession

Upfront proviso: I’m not epileptic, I don’t have any seizure disorders, I’m not diabetic, etc. I also don’t have any diagnosed psychiatric disorders that would explain this.

Can we talk for a moment how scary being possessed is?

I understand that it’s necessary for me--I have the capacity, I’ve done it before, and I am willing to give up the relationship between consciousness and body as a service to my community.

But if I’m being honest, it makes the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up. A deep, atavistic terror that my conscious mind seems to be unable to talk the monkey and lizard in the back of my brain into accepting without it being a major point of crisis.

My feelings on that topic were forced slightly over a week ago, following a pattern between the spirit and I. I have a picture of how things are to go, or I out and out tell the spirit that I would very much like not to have something happen, and pretty promptly afterward, that thing happens.

Say to the spirit that I’m okay with being followed around by, say, spiders, but to please keep the spiders out of my pajamas/robe and bed, dream the next night about a giant spider leaping out of my robe and pajamas to cling to me as I lay on my bed.

It feels, if it makes any sense, less deliberately provocative than illustrative of a relationship, and the fact that I am not currently setting the terms. I’m always free to walk away, but that’s not likely to happen given... well.... the vows I’ve made, the person I am, and the fact that there’s really not much of interest to me elsewhere in my life.

For whatever else can be said of the spirit, the life in me flows from them and they purchased me from me out right.

I suppose I pictured possession now that I have had certain rituals done to me as occurring under much more controlled circumstances--say, during ritual or otherwise under the supervision of my papa, while in his house.

It was foolish of me to think that. My experiences with possession before this point have not been controlled nor in the context of a church. They’ve been a two minute warning in the back of my brain (”lay down right now or fall down”), followed by my body getting up and taking care of some sort of business: frequently a conversation that the person being talked to absolutely refuses to tell me about later (or make eye contact), but the way they talk to and treat me frequently changes for the positive. Whatever happens tends to generate fear and respectful politeness.

Or in the case of slightly over a week ago, my consciousness being abruptly pushed aside with very little warning while driving, resulting in a massive multi-car crash that totaled an SUV around me (and I do mean totaled; the repair estimate was about twice what the SUV was worth and involved replacing practically everything under the hood and the hood itself), took out another vehicle, and landed me in the ER for about 11 hours.

I feel like I should say, at this point, that the aftermath of the crash involved no injuries aside from bruising. They looked for and didn’t find any biological cause, extensively scanning my brain and body, expecting to find massive bleeding or something really fucky in my blood chemistry, and instead found nothing to explain what happened. And meanwhile, I was apparently ‘conscious’ and doing stuff--I’m not a fan of doctors, but my affect in the medical records is listed as helpful, appropriate, and friendly, which it would damn well not have been if it was me.

This is also the healthiest my bank account has ever been, and all the things I need to do before I move closer to my temple have mysteriously been scheduled before I’m due to leave (several of them involve institutions that are usually very slow to schedule.)

The insurance company could not be more prompt or helpful, two words I’ve never been able to use to describe an insurance company in my life.

And every single safety device on the SUV failed, despite the crash occurring at slightly under highway speeds. I should have been a smear, especially since I ended up in oncoming traffic, crossing a median and several lanes during the course of the crash.

I didn’t even cut my lip, though I did bite my tongue, and the bruising is relatively minor.

This is all definitely something I had to appreciate in retrospect. Maybe ‘had’ is too strong, but my initial emotional reaction has been panic and anger, and I have previous experience with possession.

It’s one thing to lie down, get up someone or something else, and have conversations with people. Weird, uncomfortable, and hard to explain--par for the course in my life, which has essentially been wall-to-wall shit that reminds me how different I am from the people around me (and reminds them, which sometimes results in some unpleasant and occasionally dangerous social situations.)

It’s something else entirely to absolutely destroy an SUV around me and to stay ‘gone’ for almost half a day. Before this, the longest I’ve been gone was an hour or two, coming back to myself sober despite drinking heavily the whole time. Whomever it is borrowing my skin drinks like a fish--amounts that, frankly, I’d be very dead if I tried to emulate.

I’m really struggling with how to feel about this. On the one hand, I have a lot to be grateful for. It looks like I’ll be able to replace my vehicle with a much newer, nicer model, and I won’t have to worry too much about money during the move.

I am very grateful, but it took me a week to arrive at grateful.

On the other hand... my plans are definitely shot to shit. I had just bought that SUV (and it was hellaciously expensive to fix up so that it would run) specifically so that I could pack my stuff in it and move, and I cannot emphasize enough how creepy it is that I was driving at the time.

I could have really injured the other driver. I could have died (not that I would have known, because as far as my consciousness goes, there’s nothing between driving home from work and the ER a long time later.)

And honestly... the idea that I am not in control of myself all the time continues to creep me out. The authoritative way that I was just not myself is scary.

I am a little disappointed with myself, and my dreams reflect the disappointment I suspect the spirit feels about my response--literally dreams about shitting myself and trying to hide (but being unable to do so) while I clean myself up.

I feel like it would be reasonable for most anyone having the same experience to be freaking the fuck out, but I also know that what is reasonable for everyone else is not what is appropriate for me, if for no other reason than because I am able to be mounted and have done so before I knew about vodou. I had no idea what possession was the first time it happened, and thought I was going crazy, which lead me to a lot of time in therapy, during which they never discovered a reason for this to occur.

My discomfort does not constitute a good reason not to be possessed. Nor does it constitute an argument against possession. And I wish I had the kind of faith necessary not to have initially responded with terror and rage.

I wish I was able to face this with calm and trust.

Instead, I’ve been grappling with memories I put aside a long time ago and baffled rage.

And tears. Lots and lots of tears, which is also very unlike me.