#i think maybe i just need angst. peppering in a little angst makes it easier. maybe. idk

[snuggles-and-struggles]

Loveuary, Day 9 - Celebration

Spicyhoney, established relationship, hospital drama (resolves fine), hurt/comfort sort of? Angst shot fluff chaser

Word count: 1090

Four months he'd been stuck in the hospital. Four months he'd been forced to resign himself to the whims of every nurse and doctor. They couldn't figure it out. As it just so happened to be, he and his brother were complete medical anomalies. While he'd gotten used to all the work arounds he'd found to keep Red healthy, it had never been an issue he himself bore the brunt of.

Until he got sick, of course. The better half of a year ago, he noticed a change. Small, at first, and he blamed it on overworking. But as the days went by, and even Stretch started to ask if he'd been feeling alright, he eventually had to tell his husband the truth – no.

Doctor appointments turned into overnight stays and emergency room visits, until it came to a head and they admitted him more permanently. At its worst, he couldn't really remember much, but judging by the sleepless stains nearly everyone who visited him wore, it must've been bad.

On the better days, guilt gnawed at him. Despite his own more...'unstable' health, Stretch spent as much time there as the hospital allowed him, for nearly all four months. It took the efforts of both Blue and Chara, and sometimes Levi hoisting him over her shoulder, to get him to go home and take care of *himself for a little while. But it would've been a lie to claim Stretch's presence hadn't been his greatest comfort.

A month in, coming out of the first bad days, a hospital staff member whose qualifications he did not know requested Stretch leave the room and then asked him about a will.

In the second month, he hadn't been privy to the details, but they'd somehow managed to get Alphys and Sylv permission to work alongside the medical doctors. Their own expertise in 'soul irregularities' was likely what lead to the breakthrough that, if he could ever accept it'd been that serious, saved his life.

The third month, the trial and error period had been the hardest. At least, that he could recall. Days blurred together and more than anything he remembered Stretch holding his hand as he finally broke down in tears. He couldn't even comfort him, only watch.

No matter how badly his bones felt, splintered and hot, his soul, swollen and weak, not even being able to wrap his fingers around his husband's and tell him everything would be alright had hurt in a way he hoped he'd never live to feel again.

Which was why, grudgingly, into the fourth month he obeyed the staff to the best of his ability, even when he had enough strength back that he wouldn't have had to. Stretch still looked wracked more often than not, and he couldn't, he wouldn't do anything else to burden him more than he already had.

Not even when he could finally go home and their overly cautious behavior became his husband's. That, at least, Edge didn't mind entertaining so much.

He'd been loose a few days by then, dozing on the couch in the family room when Stretch's soft, melodic voice stirred him.

"hey, edge?"

Rolling his head to the side, Edge hummed his acknowledgment as Stretch appeared in his vision, coming to sit on the table beside him.

"i was thinking and, would you be okay with a few people coming over for dinner tonight?"

Yawning, Edge blinked and got a better look at his love. Something in his voice sounded hesitant, and his posture reflected an uncertainty that had him really thinking about the question.

Ah, so he hadn't escaped a dreaded 'welcome home' gathering after all.

He'd been deeply relieved that first day, when their only guests had been Toriel and Red, who'd driven them home. But he should've suspected when they received no other visitors since besides Blue that they were up to something.

"How many is a few?"

Stretch shifted, smile wavering as he averted his eyes. "well, our brothers and toriel, and rus said he wanted to bring the kids, if they weren't busy," he started toying with one sleeve, the list growing for at least a full minute before he finished.

"Love," Edge had to clear his throat to continue, "that's almost everyone we know."

"no, it's not- it's, i mean, it's just family, and you know how they are, they..." his voice tapered off, and Edge watched in confusion as Stretch's expression fully crumbled, looking miserable.

"i don't know what to tell them, starlight. you didn't want visitors before either, so everyone wants to see you. they were really worried."

The earnest concern in Stretch's eyes made him look away. Except it wasn't pride or any such foolish thing, he really didn't have the energy. And if they'd visited in the hospital it certainly wouldn't have made anyone feel better to see him like that. He fought with himself for a moment and then sighed – at least as much as he could.

"Only a few. Our brothers, Toriel, Astilbe if you'd like, but no one else. They can..." he had to pause, breathing slowly until it leveled out and the lightheadedness passed. "They can visit on their own time."

Stretch's eyes followed his movements but to his credit he stayed still, allowing Edge to catch his breath on his own.

"not even the kids?"

That brought him pause. They'd likely already made time in their busy schedules, it'd probably be inconvenient to them to cancel tonight.

"Alright. The kids, too."

"and if levi comes anyway i'm not taking any responsibility-"

"Stretch."

Hands up in surrender, he chuckled, "just wanted to put that out there," his normal humor still seemed dimmed, but he looked more himself again. "i'm gunna go make some tea. think about where you want take out from because toriel's the only one i trust and i already told her not to worry about it."

As he stood, he placed a gentle hand on Edge's skull, smoothing the bone for a moment and then rewarding him with a kiss when he hummed an agreement.

Sinking back into the pillows once Stretch had left, Edge let his eyes drift shut. He could pretend for at least another hour the others wouldn't just come anyway, whatever Stretch told them. Until then he'd relish the peace and quiet and the odd feeling stirred in his soul.

While he couldn't really understand the point in celebrating not dying when you survived any other day, too, the sentiment was touching all the same.

[pochipop]

hello!! i hope you’re doing great today :))

i’ve never requested before so i hope im doing this right

could i request something v angsty with diluc?

thank u!! <3

＃ GENSHIN IMPACT !! ♡ — SUNSETS WITH(OUT) YOU (DILUC X READER).

#. synopsis! — sometimes, moving on feels impossible. guilt sits in diluc's gut like heavy stones. he'd do anything for one last chance .

#. characters! —diluc .

#. warnings! — heavy angst .

#. word count! — 1.8k .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @yyolkchi (reblog/spam) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

The pain comes in waves.

Sometimes, it laps at Diluc's shores like a comforting kiss, —the kind you used to pepper thoughtfully down the line of his jaw after a day’s work. The kind he'd all but melt under, reducing himself to putty in your hands. Other times, it crashes and roars like the howling wolves of the forests, pulling him in and under, washing him out to sea until he's lost, confused, and losing his will to move forward.

Tonight, he's hurting.

He stumbles in through the door after a night at the tavern serving drinks to cheerful drunks and rowdy lightweights. Kaeya wasn’t there. He hasn’t been since he heard the news, though Diluc isn’t sure why. Or maybe he does know, somewhere deep inside, and yet feigning ignorance is easier than facing things head on. All Diluc really knows for certain is that Kaeya wasn’t there. . . But he’s starting to wish he’d show up again. He’s starting to wish he’d come waltzing in through the door, no need for pity or anything of the sort. Just that cocky smirk and arrogant aura, making snide comments on little things just because he can. Yeah. . . Diluc could use that normalcy.

His heart is heavy with the thought of you. It's been a while, but the wound is fresh. It bleeds and bleeds and bleeds until Diluc lets it consume him, lets it strip him down to a mess on the floor. It bleeds until he falls apart, knowing that come morning he'll have to piece himself back together with reckless abandon and hope for the best. It'll never last long, but he has to admit that sometimes it's nice to pretend that he's learned how to live with the loss. It might even be easier to pretend that it doesn't always poke at his heart, reminding him of the hole you left behind that he doesn't know how to fix or fill.

Tonight, he's drowning again.

Diluc looks around at his bedroom and exhales, shakily so, listening for the sound of his mask of security shattering away into nothingness at his feet. He can't bring himself to throw away the dead flowers on the nightstand, —the ones he got for you in celebration of nothing in particular. Once a beautiful bouquet of cecilias, the petals are long past the point of being shriveled. They've blackened and fallen away from their rotting stems, curling into pathetic shells of what they once were. If Diluc were to pick them up, they'd crumble into dust in the palm of his hands. The vase is void of water now after quite a bit of neglect, but he'll make up for that in the morning. He'll water those long-dead stems and gently sweep the corpses of those lifeless petals into a little pile. 

Not that it'll make him feel any better.

In fact, it might as well be making things worse. But he'll do it in spite of that, because you once held those now-dead flowers close to your chest with a beaming smile on your face. You were happy in that moment, and he can’t bear the thought of getting rid of them when you were the one who carefully filled that little vase with water, the one who placed it on the nightstand next to your bed. His bed. The bed you once shared with him each night, wrapped up in each other, thinking maybe if he loved you hard enough it would shield you from the world itself.

Some days, he wakes up and has to fight the urge to slam that vase to the ground, watching as it shatters against the floor. And then Diluc is sure that he’d cry, fall to his knees atop all the shards with no regard for the pain it’ll cause him once he’s wrung himself dry again.

He’s good at making himself miserable.

That’s why he hasn’t washed the sheets in months, —because he’s tricked himself into believing that your side of the bed still smells like you, even after all this time. Acknowledging that it’s faded is far more hurtful than the alternative of clutching onto the pillow you always used, closing his eyes, and pretending that you’re still there with him, snuggling into his chest and mumbling something about how he made you feel safe.

His heart throbs.

All you ever wanted was for him to keep you safe, and yet here he is having completely failed you. And the worst part of all is that he knows you’d be the first person to tell him that he did the best he could, —that he tried, and that it was enough, even though he knows it wasn’t. Diluc knows you wouldn’t blame him. . . So he’s blaming himself enough for the both of you and then some.

Not because it’s what you’d want, but because it’s what he thinks he deserves.

He sits by the window now in that same spot you used to watch the sun set, slinking its way out of the sky as your eyes reflected the dimming rays. Diluc can hear you now as he gazes from the same window you once did, —gushing over the beautiful blend of colors awash in the sky. . . You’d always invite him to share the moment with you. Now, he regrets having said no so many times. If he could go back in time and do it all again, he’d never turn down a single offer. He’d hold you close, wrap you up in his arms, kiss the sweet spot just below your ear to hear you hum ever so lightly in bliss.

He really wishes he could do it all again.

The thought of it often keeps him awake at night.

Diluc feels that same wave of dread wash over him that he’s felt at every sunset since that fateful day. He might have grown to hate them by now if it weren’t for your love of them, —if it weren’t for the lingering shreds of your presence that he swears he feels when he gazes off toward the horizon as the sun lowers itself out of the sky to make room for the moon’s humble glow.

Maybe it’s just another way he’s deluding himself, watering down the agony that reaches for his heart every chance it gets, but it’s better than the emptiness that awaits him as an alternative. It’s better than the nothingness that Diluc knows would swallow him whole if he were to accept things as they are. Bleak. Completely desolate. . . Colder than even the windiest strips of mountainside atop Dragonspine’s all but infinite summit. 

At least here he can trick himself into believing that your fingertips are trailing along the back of his hand the way they always did, like little nimble spider legs just dancing along his flesh. Though Diluc has long been a man who prefers his space, you were one of the few people he would thoughtlessly allow close, —closer than anyone else could ever dream of being. So close that it might have been suffocating.

For the millionth time, Diluc is forced to come to the sobering realization that this room no longer feels like his own. This manor, the one his father took such care of when he was alive and well, has been reduced to nothingness. It feels utterly forsaken.

There’s nothing left here, and yet this room of things, dead flowers, little trinkets, and all the memories he can’t seem to part with, is all he has left of you. If he doesn’t come here, where else is there to go? He doesn’t feel you this strongly anywhere else, —not along Mondstadt’s cobble streets, not in the tavern where you’d swing by every now and again to entice him upstairs and onto the balcony, stealing kisses just to leave him breathless under the stars. He doesn’t feel you next to Starfell Lake where you used to feed the ducks and call them by names, —one’s you’d given them. Diluc still isn’t sure how you managed to tell them apart, or even if you ever truly did at all.

He doesn’t feel you like this at the top of Starsnatch Cliff where he took you on a first date, one that was sloppily planned and poorly executed on his part, but you said nothing of it and held his hand below an inky black sky anyway.

Try as he might, he only feels you so stirringly here in the room you tended to when Diluc himself chose not to. When work would pile up for him, you’d take care of all the smaller things just to give him a soft place to land at the end of each day.

Needless to say, the room has divulged into calamity without you.

Diluc wishes he could pull himself together, keep up with the tasks you always took care of with ease. He wishes he could fill your place, but it’s painfully obvious that he doesn’t have the will nor the strength to do so. He’s drained himself of every last drop. There’s nothing left to find inside him. He’s running on empty, and try as he might, there’s seemingly nothing he can do to fix it.

And above all else, Diluc just wishes that everything were different.

He wishes that his dad was still here to talk him down, to give him advice, to point him in the right direction. He wishes Kaeya were here, even if he’s still angry with him. He’d give the world to have a shoulder to cry on, —to have his brother here for the first time in forever. It’s selfish, he knows, considering Diluc drove the wedge between them himself and has since adamantly denied every last one of Kaeya’s attempts to mend things. . . But right now, selfishness is one of the few things Diluc can manage to conjure up.

And selfishly, he’d let the entirety of Teyvat burn to a crisp around him if it meant he could have your lips pressed against his again, even if only for a moment.

Diluc reaches out to open the window. The sunset is gone and the stars don’t glimmer as brightly as they once did. He feels nothing but bitterness well up inside as he listens to the song of the wind and trees. He’s sure you’d want to dance to the tender melody of the breeze stirring the branches up above. Maybe, he ponders, if I send a message off with the wind, it just might reach the right place. . .

With a heavy, aching heart, Diluc traces the window sill, fingertips easily sliding over the smooth material. A sob creeps up the back of his throat as he closes his eyes, feeling that same breeze caress his skin under the moonlight. It’s nowhere near as comforting as he wishes it was, but it’s all that remains. It’s all he’s got left.

Though the words nearly die on his tongue, Diluc forces himself to speak; sending that message off with the wind in hopes that you might hear it wherever you are now.

“I love you.”

[primofate]

Breaking Up (Part 3-Final) Albedo x gn!reader

Scenario: Breaking up and getting back together again

Characters: gn! reader x Albedo

Warnings: This is the FLUFF part. Not proofread. 

Categories: angst in Part 1, comfort in Part 2, Fluff in Part 3

Read: (Part 1)  (Part 2)

You hummed a light tune as you walked around fields, gathering herbs from trees and shrubs. The sun was about to set, and it painted a slightly orange hue on the sky. 

“Y/N,” You stand and turn, sunsettia gathered around your arms and other herbs in your backpack. Albedo is walking towards you with a soft smile, and you return it with a bigger one. “Albedo,” you pipe up and jog to meet him halfway. He thinks you’re a little bit like a puppy sometimes, it’s just not possible to resist the eyes that look up at him expectantly. 

All his fears came crashing down on him once more and he half-panicked. 

He wraps one arm around your waist and leans in for a quick kiss on the nose as a greeting, before pulling away and helping you with the sunsettias. “You lost track of time again,” he states and you just laugh sheepishly. “Ah...yeah, I get too into ingredient gathering sometimes...”

Albedo had gotten home and found a note on the table stating where you were. Just like he had requested. Weeks following the two of you getting back together there’d been an incident where he came home and found that you weren’t there yet again. 

Had he done something wrong? 

Did he say something bad? 

Where were you? 

Did you leave again? 

Only to have you strolling into the house the next moment, smile on your face, saying that you went out to do some shopping. He swept you into a hug that confused you. He was beyond terrified that it might have happened again.

He’d go as far as to say that it was borderline PTSD. 

“Can you kindly do me a favor and leave a note if you’ve gone out? It would really... make me feel better,”

And you understood. Perhaps you would’ve felt the same way. If you came home late at night and found that he wasn’t home yet. You’d tend to think that something happened to him, and so you complied to his request. 

He’d become a little better at managing his time. He figured Sucrose could handle more responsibilities and figured that he could also work a little bit at home. Readings and research did count as work, the only downside was that he had to borrow books from the library and bring it all the way back home, but he didn’t care much about that. You kept the house so warm and cozy that it was the perfect place to concentrate and be productive. 

“Come,” Albedo beckoned you from the chair of his makeshift office at home. You tilt your head, as you were about to leave the tea on his table and leave him to work again but he’d grabbed your hand and tugged you towards him.

“Can I help you?” You asked with a slight grin to your question. He pulls you over to his lap, arms around your waist and has your back flush against his front. His head hovering above your shoulder as he continues his reading as if everything was normal, and as if you weren’t sitting on his lap. “Am I just going to stay here?” You giggle and tilt your head back to look up at him.

A small smile cracks on his face as he shushes you, “Shh, absolute concentration is needed during research, Y/N,” but he lets go of the papers he was holding and leans back into his chair, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “You’re required to stay until my energy levels are back to normal,” 

“And what’s your energy levels now?” You play along with his little game, him starting to pepper kisses on your cheek. “I’m at zero, you’ve only just come in after all,” 

Sometimes you wonder if he really gets any work done, but it looks as if he does, and is even more determined to keep researching certain things. Of course, there were still days where he was incredibly busy. But he’d made up for those days by being considerate and aware of the time he spent at work. 

“I apologize... It got busy again this week...” he nearly sighs as he wraps his arms around your waist, the same nose kiss as a greeting. You’re a little more understanding of his predicament, but mostly because he communicated more. Where before he would come home and not say anything, now he would apologize and tell you about what was going wrong in his schedule. 

And the next day he was free, you’d wake up without worrying about breakfast because he had prepared it--granted he wasn’t the best cook in the world but he knew some recipes--and he knew just how you wanted your coffee or your tea. 

Turns out those little things did add up and made everything much easier.

“What’s for dinner today?” He asks as the two of you walk home. You put on a thinking face, “Maybe some cream stew?” the small talk the two of you engage in is peaceful and natural. “Would that be okay?” You glance at him, expecting an answer, but didn’t get any. You blink and turn your head to look at him, he’s lost in thought it looks like. “Albedo?” and he blinks back to turn and look at you. “Yes?” 

“I was asking if cream stew was okay,” there’s a slight crease of worry on your eyebrows, but his smile takes it away. “Yes, that’d be nice,” he simply says and for some odd reason, he doesn’t talk about his day today. It’d almost felt like a routine now, how he would tell you what he and Sucrose had been working on, or maybe if Klee barged in again today, or maybe even Kaeya. 

He was a little too quiet, and you kept stealing glances at him.

Even as the two of you arrive home and close the door behind you, immediately going towards the kitchen, it was a little tense and you weren’t quite sure why. He had this...frown on his face, but he didn’t look angry. “...Is there something on your mind?” you ask as you start prepping the ingredients.

He visibly stiffens up and just stands there. At this point you know that something is wrong. “Did something happen? Did I say something wrong?” You question as you’re about to wipe your hands on a kitchen towel. He suddenly shakes his head, “No, not at all. I--” 

and he starts his story as you put on an apron.

“Kaeya came by today...He says that...” his eyes dart away from you. “That I should consider...getting a ring,” You stop tying the apron around your middle and focus your attention on him. Eyes going a fraction wider. “But I... That is to say... If you would like a ring then I will gladly get you one, Y/N,” you’re not sure where this is going but your heart is starting to patter louder in your chest. “But I just don’t think it would change a thing. A ring is not enough to really tell you how much I...” he pauses and his eyes finally find yours. “How much I adore you. A band around my finger or your finger...can never represent the gratitude,” he emphasizes his next words “the comfort, the love that I have for you,”

It’s starting to feel like there’s an elephant in your throat, and you start to blink a little faster because you don’t want to cry. You just thought it’d be a little silly.

“I just... I hope you’re aware, ring or no ring... My intentions are the same. I don’t plan on spending the rest of my lifetime with anyone else,” you secretly bite your lip, “...It’ll only be you,” and he scratches the back of his neck, tearing his eyes away from you once again, mumbling--and it’s so rare to see him in such a vulnerable state-- “Kaeya mentioned that if I don’t get you a ring... that you might leave... I’m aware he’s not the most trustworthy but... I just... wanted to make sure,”

And despite the few small happy tears that finally cascade down your cheeks you laugh a little, picturing the mischievous glint in Kaeya’s eyes as he tells this to Albedo. 

Albedo smiles a little and brushes the few tears that managed to slip out, but you reply to him. “You know how Kaeya is, Bedo,” which translates to ‘don’t listen to him,’. Albedo knows. But when it came to you he wasn’t going to take chances. You contentedly wrap your arms around his middle and he hugs you back around your shoulders as he whispers into your hair. “But you know... Perhaps I should get you a ring, when the time comes,”

“Hm?” You merely murmur, asking about his sudden change in opinion.

“Just to let others know you’re taken,” 

Another rumble of laughter lifts from your chest. This time, he joins you.

Taglist: @rim0na @sweeti-pie @yamsthegod @reaped-winnower @hai-q-haikyuu @tkshoki @fanfictionenthusiast @skatercashew @leefletter @kimbapsana @hentaje @marginmaster87 @tempehlust @rinnesy @hallohun @softlybeloved @ssalamanderr @ben6ett @rytszk @guilixi @mondstadts-favourite-traveler @mkazuyuh @ayra2452008 @simpingover @soft-like-sunshine @lnrchii @scheophi @larkspyrr @outlet-0

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[jikookiekosmos]

Use My Best Colors For Your Portrait || jjk

➥Pairing: best friend!jungkook/reader, boyfriend!jungkook/reader, artist!jungkook

➥Summary: After surprising Jungkook with his own studio room for his paintings, he couldn’t be any more over the moon. All’s well and good until he’s struggling to find inspiration...which you happily provide him with. He’s ecstatic to find his muse in you, and painting your portrait brings him so much joy. Things take a turn however, when he suddenly realizes what else he wants to paint.

➥Genre: established relationship, tiny bit of angst if you squint, fluff, smut

➥Rating: 18+

➥Words: ~7.9k (small drabbles don’t exist for me apparently, oops)

➥Content warnings: most of this at the beginning is just cute fluff domestic times (finally not much angst!), blonde jungkook, jk ties his hair up at some point (my weakness), jk puts paints on the reader, making out, slight hair pulling, cursing, shower sex times, jungkook has a big dick, oral (m. receiving), very slight mouth fucking, dirty talk, fingering (very brief), unprotected sex (safe sex is great sex), biting, cumming inside, cute times in the shower, jungkook is actually the sweetest, reader and jk are so in love with each other it hurts, also jk saying ‘only for you’ is a thing i started and can’t stop now oops

A/N: hello! This is part of my Only for You (OFY) Drabble series, but it can be read as a stand-alone! Their relationship will make a lot more sense though if you’ve read OFY beforehand. This fic takes place roughly around six months after the events of OFY (so in between that and the dream drabble I also posted).

Once again, thank you to @dntaewithluv​ for her endless support and always giving me feedback, I forever appreciate you and your friendship is more than I could ever ask for 💜

I’ve written a few other drabbles and will list them below, along with a general timeline:

When I Dream of You - ~1 year after OFY

Stay With Me - a few months after the dream drabble

Also, I hope that if you read this, you enjoy it~

➥OFY Spotify Playlist (songs I listened to for inspo)

➥Series Masterlist

➥All Works Masterlist

taglist: @inlovewiththemoonn​

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

You would do absolutely anything in the world for Jeon Jungkook.

Seeing him happy had to be at the top of your list of favorite things in the world, as it had been for many years as his best friend, and now in the several months since the two of you started dating. Some things just never changed, you guessed.

Which is why you took it upon yourself to change one of the spare rooms in the house you two were renting into a space where he could thrive as the artist he was. Initially, the two of you thought it would be nice to use that space as a work area for you, since your job required you to sometimes do work from home. And for a little while, that’s exactly what you did.

But ever since you found out Jungkook liked to paint – scratch that, he loved to paint, and had been doing so for longer than you thought – the gears started turning in your head.

The current space he was using to create his art was definitely less than ideal. The house had a decent sized garage area, so there was enough room for him to store his supplies and be able to paint without it being too much of an issue. The downside, though, was it was cramped and even though Jungkook said he didn’t mind it, you still couldn’t help the frown from masking your features whenever you saw him huddled up so close to his easel.

For the last few weeks, and with lots of help from internet searches, you’d been slowly converting your space into something like a studio. You didn’t have to worry about Jungkook finding out, either, since he very rarely went into that room seeing as he had no reason to. He respected your privacy the same as you respected his, so this made everything infinitely easier for you in the long run.

The day had finally arrived where you would show the new space to Jungkook. Everything was set up as perfect as you could manage it – at least you hoped so – and you were dying of excitement to show him as soon as possible.

You were also, however, incredibly nervous at the same time. What if he didn’t like it? Even worse, what if he hated it?

Of course, you knew deep down that there was no way Jungkook could hate anything you ever did, unless it was something horrible, but you worried about everything because that’s just how you were. So, when the two of you were sitting at the dinner table one night, you tried hard to swallow the lump in your throat as you listened to Jungkook talk about his newest work.

“I really think you’re gonna like how this one turns out, angel.” Jungkook was offering you a sweet smile as he went to grab another bite of food from his plate. You managed to smile back, despite the hammering of your heart against your chest. He was basically handing you the perfect opening for you to segue the conversation!

“I know I’ll love it, Koo.” You watched as his small smile turned into a full grin, his nose scrunching up in that adorable way that had you falling in love with him all over again every time you saw it.

“Speaking of your paintings,” you started off, clearing your throat while he swallowed down his food. He looked at you with his undivided attention and it made your heart skip a beat.

Ok let’s be real, every damn thing this man did made your heart skip a beat.

“Yeah? What about them?” He twirled more of the noodles around his fork while he waited on your answer.

You gulped. “Wouldn’t you like it if you had more space?”

Jungkook chuckled and placed his fork down, shaking his head as he placed on hand on top of yours that was still resting by your plate. You’d barely touched your food and he noticed.

“Baby,” he started, “as much as I would love to have a bigger space, what I have now is just fine. I know you think it’s stifling my creativity in there, but I’m still creating things and am comfortable.” He squeezed you hand gently before returning to his food.

“I get that you think the garage is fine but what if I told you that- that you could have a bigger workspace.” You finally picked up your fork and were poking around at your own food now, avoiding his gaze. You could feel his stare boring into you regardless, though.

“I mean – yeah, hypothetically I could have more space, but it’s not in the cards for us right now and that’s ok, too. Maybe one day.”

The way he always was optimistic about your future together made you feel warm all over. Jungkook liked to look on the bright side of every situation, and it’s been enough to help you keep your own wits about yourself numerous times now.

But this time you wanted to show him that the future could be closer than he realized.

“Koo, can you come with me real quick? I have something I want to show you.”

You didn’t miss the confused look that flashed across his face for a second before his calm demeanor took over again.

“Of course.” He hopped up from the table, that smile you adored now plastered on his face. “Lead the way.”

“Ok but I also need you to close your eyes.” You reached out to take his hand and were rewarded with an eyebrow raise.

He hummed thoughtfully but did as you asked, closing his eyes and grasping your hand tighter so you could lead him wherever you planned to.

You walked through the house pulling him behind you, feeling your heartbeat quicken with every step to where its pace was almost concerning. Whether or not it was mostly from excitement or nervousness, you weren’t sure.

You finally reached your destination and let go of his hand so you could open the door.

“Keep your eyes closed, ok,” you asked. Jungkook simply nodded and you saw a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He had no idea what you were about to show him, but knowing you and how much he loved pretty much anything you did, he was sure it’d probably make him happy.

And he couldn’t have been more correct in his assumption.

At the quiet sound of you telling him he could open his eyes he did so, slowly at first, blinking to adjust to the light the now flooded over the both of you. It took him several seconds to register exactly what he was seeing, and when he did he couldn’t speak. All he could do was stare around the room, mouth agape.

Decorating the walls were the paintings he had given you, beautiful works of various sizes and themes. Alongside the far wall was a tall shelf that housed all his supplies (how had you managed to get them past him without him noticing?), and even some new things like paints he’d been eyeing for a while and other tools he hadn’t had a chance to get himself yet.

But in the middle of the room stood his easel and chair, set up in the similar fashion as it had been in the garage. His apron was draped across the back of the chair, and there was even tarp laid out underneath the workspace. You research had paid off because everything was set up in such a way that it created the perfect atmosphere for Jungkook’s creativity to shine through in ways it hadn’t been able to before.

You weren’t aware of this yet, however, because you were still watching Jungkook’s reaction. He still hadn’t said anything, and as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, you started to wonder if this was the right call-

Strong arms were pulling you up from the ground and spinning you around before you could process it, making you squeal with delight as Jungkook twirled you before bringing you back down to pepper kisses all over you face.

“Angel, I can’t believe this, you did all this for me?” He was still holding onto your hips tightly, beaming as he looked down at you. Your nod and giggle was all the confirmation he needed before he pulled you into another kiss, this one slightly more heated than the ones before.

“Do you like it,” you questioned when the both of you pulled away to breathe. Jungkook laughed before taking your face in his hands and brushing his nose along yours.

“Do I like it? Baby, I love it. It’s perfect! Thank you so much.” Another kiss. “I love it and I love you, I love you so fucking much.”

His happiness made your heart soar and you definitely knew that you’d do something like this an infinite amount of times if it meant he’d keep that smile on his face.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

A few weeks passed by and Jungkook had been using his new studio nearly everyday at this point. His creations had been increasing in numbers and he was starting to receive commissions from others thanks to his small online shop he’d set up with your help. He still worked at the bar as his primary job, but he was also grateful to have a hobby on the side that could potentially yield something lucrative.

Of course, Jungkook’s increase in his time spent on his art still didn’t take away from his time with you. If anything, it gave the both of you another way to spend time together, since now there was enough space for you to sit in and observe him paint when you couldn’t before. You often sat quietly and either did some of your own work or engaged in your own hobbies while he painted, and it was always peaceful.

There came a day, though, that you never thought you’d experience: Jungkook had run out of inspiration. He’d hit his first real artist’s block and it was taking a bigger toll on him than he would’ve liked.

You rubbed his shoulders as he sat in front of his easel one night, groaning in frustration about his current work. “It’s not turning out at all like I want it to. I’ve been struggling with finding new inspiration and it clearly shows in whatever this is.” He vaguely gestured to the canvas, prompting you to place a kiss on his cheek as you ran your hand through his pretty blonde hair. You knew that always helped to calm him down and this case was no exception.

Jungkook sighed heavily, turning to place a kiss on your palm that was still lingering around his face. “Sorry, I don’t mean to get worked up. It just sucks, you know? I’d been on this really good streak of creating things and now I just…can’t. It’s weird and I don’t like it.” He pouted slightly and the sight made you giggle.

“I know, baby, but you’ll figure something out. You always do.” You placed a kiss on top of his head before you walked around to sit on his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck and one of his hands cradled your waist to steady you.

He was humming thoughtfully as he looked you up and down, your hands now playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“What are you thinking about?”

He smiled slyly. “You.”

You rolled you eyes before returning the smile. “Ok, what about me? I’m curious.”

His hand was rubbing up and down your side. “Nothing in particular, just usually looking at you can help me with inspiration.”

His confession made you gasp. “Really?”

He nodded and smiled wider. “Really. You inspire me a lot.” He placed a chaste kiss on your lips before sighing again. “This time though it’s not really working like I’d hoped.”

You watched his eyes close and his brows furrow before an idea popped into your head. “Hey,” you reached down to tilt his chin up so he’d look at you, “It might be a long shot, but: have you ever considered painting portraits?”

He pursed his lips as he thought about it. The simple act made you want to kiss him but now wasn’t the time.

“Honestly…no. I’ve never thought about it before because I usually prefer to paint scenery.”

You searched his eyes as you asked your next question. “Well, if you want to try, maybe you could paint me? Even if it doesn’t go anywhere, maybe it can help spark a new idea or something?”

You watched as his eyes slowly lit up at your suggestion, his face morphing into a smile that you mirrored.

“That’s a great idea! It’s something new and it also includes you, so I already love it.” You chuckled in his lap as he hugged you closer, placing a small kiss on your neck. “Thank you.”

You ran your hands through his hair again before leaning back. “Anything for you. Do you want to start now?”

He thought about it for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, we can do that. Is there, uh – was there something specific you wanted to wear for it?”

You wiggled your eyebrows suggestively. “Are you suggesting you want to paint a nude portrait?”

Even though Jungkook knew your body better than you did at this point, your words still managed to make him blush as he groaned. “No, I wasn’t thinking that- not that I’d mind of course just you know, whatever makes you comfortable-”

You laughed at his flustered nature before hopping off his lap. “You’re so cute. I’ll go find something to change into, it shouldn’t take long.”

“R-right,” he stuttered, still clearly somewhat affected by what you had said. You shook your head with amusement as you went to your bedroom to find something to wear. You settled for a purple dress that you knew Jungkook loved, and considering a lot of his paintings involved shades of purple and blue, you figured it would be perfect.

You knew you made the right choice when you stepped back into the room and saw Jungkook’s face when his eyes fell on you. He looked like he’d never seen someone so beautiful (he looked at you like that a lot and it always did something to you) and your lips curled upwards into a smile before you could realize it.

You stopped in the doorway and twirled, giving him a full view of the dress. “Is this ok?”

You already knew the answer, but it was always nice to hear him say it.

He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, it’s perfect. You can, uh, you can take a seat whenever you’re ready.”

While you were changing, Jungkook had pulled one of the loveseats from the living room into the space so you’d have somewhere to sit or lay while he painted you. The loveseat was a dark blue color and it contrasted beautifully against the color of your dress. You decided to lay on it in a comfortable pose, and you couldn’t help the small giggle you let out at Jungkook’s reaction to your choice.

You had laid an arm behind your head, turning your face so you were looking at him while the rest of your body was sprawled out on the loveseat. One of your legs dangled over the side, making the skirt of your dress hike up somewhat. You were very comfortable, and Jungkook was very happy with your pose.

“Make it pretty, ok,” you joked with him. He smirked at your comment.

“You know I will. I’ll use my best colors, just for you.”

“Wow, I feel special,” you quipped back. You were rewarded with the sound of his beautiful laughter as it echoed off the walls.

“You’re the most special,” he admitted honestly. You gave him a brilliant smile and he felt his heart stutter.

With the way you were looking at him, Jungkook thought that if he didn’t start painting, he may never start. So, he forced himself to tear his eyes away from you so he could find the paints he needed to get started. He tied up his hair, a few of the blonde strands escaped and framed his face but he didn’t seem to mind it too much as he got to work.

Thankfully, since you’d chosen a good position, the process was easier than you thought it would be. You just had to lie there and watch him work, which you happily did. You enjoyed watching his face scrunch up in concentration before relaxing again as he brushed stroke after stroke onto the canvas.

You were so beyond proud of him that it made your heart swell inside your chest.

Jungkook had been painting for a little over half an hour before he announced it was time to take a break. He could paint for hours on end without stopping, but that was when he didn’t have a live subject he was working with. He walked over to you with a bottle of water so you could sip from it without having to disturb your position too much.

You sat up slightly so you could drink, and while you did so, one of your dress straps started falling down your arm. Jungkook immediately went to move it back into place, but as he did, he couldn’t help but stare at the dark contrast of the purple satin against your skin. He thought it was so pretty, and his mind started wandering to how the paint itself might look-

He shook his head to rid himself of the thought. He may have been covered in paint himself, but that didn’t mean he needed to go putting paint on you.

When you were re-situated on the loveseat once more, Jungkook strolled back over to this easel. Unfortunately, since that thought of you covered in paint first took up residence inside his head, he now found it hard to focus on anything else. While he stared at you to try and resume your portrait, he just kept picturing you with painted streaks covering your skin instead.

You must have noticed he was distracted because soon you were calling over to him. “Kook? Is something wrong?”

He gulped and shook his head. “No, nothing’s wrong! You’re doing great, baby.”

“Do you need me some other way?”

Such a simple statement and yet it was stirring something inside of him. Asking him if he needed you a certain way ignited that desire to once again paint you and he found himself unable to hold back from asking anymore.

“Yeah, I uh, I wanted to try something.” You were confused when he got up and started walking toward you, only carrying his paint supplies. At first you thought maybe he just wanted to get closer, but he didn’t bring the easel with him.

“What are you wanting to try,” your voice was laced with curiosity. He gave you a shy smile.

“I was just thinking about how pretty it would be,” he looked down at the floor then back up at your face before he continued, “if I used you as a canvas instead.”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat at the request. Jungkook was asking to paint you, not paint you on a portrait, but to paint you. The suggestion intrigued you a lot more than you thought it would, which is ultimately what led to you nodding your agreement. “I think I’d like to try that, too.”

Jungkook’s face broke into such a dazzling smile that excited you to no end. You watched as he pulled his chair close to you, as well as some tarp to place around the area. When he was situated where he wanted to be, he dipped his brush into some of the purple paint on his palette and gently lifted your arm. The feeling of the paint as it brushed along your arm was foreign but not unwelcome. There was something about it that was almost calming.

You were now also recalling all the times you’d told Jungkook how pretty he looked even covered in paint. The pretty colors contrasting with his beautiful, golden skin tone never failed to take your breath away no matter how many times you saw it. You wondered briefly if this is what he was experiencing now as he took his time painting your skin.

He was focusing on your with such intensity and taking great care to only get the paint where he wanted it, so as to not stain certain parts of you or your dress. The sight of his caution made that familiar warmth bloom in your chest again.

He took his time painting beautiful designs along your arm before moving down to paint on your thighs and legs. He was alternating between purple and blue hues now, and the swirling patterns reminded you a lot of his tattoos that you adored. You had spent many nights lying next to him in bed, tracing the lines of his tattoos until you were too sleepy to keep it up. Seeing the patterns against your own skin briefly made you think about if you would ever want to get a tattoo. Before you put too much thought into it, your attention was pulled back to Jungkook who was sitting up now and admiring his work.

The time had passed by much quicker than you anticipated, and it was starting to get dark outside as the light was no longer filtering in through the windows of the room.

He seemed satisfied as he nodded and smiled. “Wait here, I’ll be right back. Stay just like this,” he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before leaving the room. When he returned, he had his coveted polaroid camera in his hands. Jungkook was also big into photography, and every one of his hobbies suited him perfectly in some way.

“Is it ok if I take a photo of you, baby?”

You grinned and nodded, being careful not to move too much from your current position. He snapped the photo and the polaroid was printing immediately after. When he pulled it from the camera, he laid it down on the table next to his easel so it could develop properly.

Jungkook wiped his hands off on his apron before taking it off and drawing his attention back to you. He could stare at you like this all day, but he knew it would probably be best to get you both cleaned up and paint-free.

He offered a hand for you so he could help pull you off the loveseat. When you were up fully, he wrapped his arms around you, careful to not get any of his exposed, paint-covered skin on your dress.

“You look so beautiful like this,” he murmured softly, brushing some of your hair out of your face as his eyes scanned up and down your body to admire his creation. “And as much as I love seeing it, we should probably get this paint off soon. When it dries too much, it can be a bitch to scrub off, and I don’t want that for you.”

You chuckled at that and simply nodded your head. You’d been lying there for nearly 2 hours at this point, so you were pretty tired and ready to just relax for the night.

The two of you hopped into the shower shortly after, helping each other rid your bodies of the remnants of paint covering you both. You always loved taking showers with Jungkook, because whether or not it was a short, regular shower, or one shared after a night of intimacy, these moments were some that you cherished the most and wouldn’t change for the world.

You got lost in the feeling of Jungkook scrubbing shampoo into your hair, letting out soft noises as your eyes slipped closed.

Your noises always threatened to drive Jungkook crazy, and this time was no exception. He couldn’t deny the stirring of his cock as he listened to the little moans slipping from your mouth at such a simple action.

Of course, since he was so close to you, there was no way you didn’t feel him. His cock was hardening against your thigh, and the fact that you were turning him on by not doing much turned you on.

You could feel the wetness start to slip past your folds, but you decided to not make any moves yet, wondering how far you could take this before either of you snapped. You knew that teasing him was one of the quickest ways to get Jungkook riled up.

“Feels so good, Koo,” you shamelessly moaned out as he kept massaging the shampoo into your hair. You heard him let out a small grunt at your deliberate words, feeling him twitch against your thigh as he got harder.

You leaned your head back to give him a better view of your neck, since you knew he loved to mark you up there. His hands were starting to tangle in your hair, but he took care to not pull too hard as he brought his attention back to the task(s) at hand.

He was currently focusing on two things: 1) getting the rest of the shampoo out of your hair, and 2) not fucking you up against the shower wall. Doing the first thing was currently keeping him from acting on the second, but you certainly weren’t helping with that.

Your head lolled around on your neck, your eyes still closed as your sounds got louder. He knew you were messing with him now, so as retaliation he pulled on your hair a little tighter, making you gasp.

“You’re doing this on purpose, angel,” you could hear the dark tone of his voice over the waterfall in the shower clearly, and it just made you more aroused. You chanced opening your eyes to look at him, and the sight you were met with made you moan louder, this time without trying.

Jungkook was staring at you, mouth slightly parted as he let out pants of his own, his blonde, soaked tresses falling in his face and covering his eyes. His tongue darted out to lick his lips as he tugged on your hair again, making you reach out to place your hands on his chest.

“You’re teasing me to get me worked up, hm?” All you could do was nod, his husky voice and the feeling of his hand wrapped in your hair making you wetter by the second. There was no use in playing coy any longer. You wanted him, and he wanted you.

The question now was: who would make the first move?

You realized that you wanted to be the one to make the first move, so you did.

“So, what if I am,” you asked sweetly, wrapping your hand around his length and pumping him slowly. His eyes closed and he leaned his forehead against your shoulder, fingers now digging into your waist.

“You know what happens when you do that,” Jungkook warned. You absolutely knew what happened, and you definitely wanted it to happen.

“Hmm, I don’t know, maybe you should enlighten me.” You teased him as you gently nibbled on his earlobe, increasing your pace as you continued to stroke him. You heard him let out a soft moan against your shoulder as he placed a kiss there.

With no more hesitation, you turned him slightly and sank down to your knees in front of him, delighted by how his cock jerked in your hold when you steadied it with your hand.

Jungkook stared at you wide-eyed as you started moving your hand around his shaft before placing a gentle kiss on his tip, the prettiest groan falling from his lips. “Fuck, Y/N, are you sure you want to do this?”

You peeked up at him as you fluttered your eyelashes, knowing that seeing you like this always aroused him beyond belief. You continued moving your hand in slow, languid strokes, and he was almost fully hard now.

He let his head hit the wall behind him, soft curses and praises for you tumbling from his mouth. 

Seeing him like this had to be near the top of the list of your favorite sights to ever witness. And right then is when you figured it’d be the perfect time to surprise him. Without a warning you opened your mouth and took all of him in that you could reach.

Jungkook’s reaction was immediate.

“Hey wait what are y- oh my God, fuck.” His loud moan echoed off the walls of the room, causing a fresh wave of arousal to pool between your thighs. You sucked harder as you hollowed out your cheeks, ignoring the way your throat constricted around him.

“Y/N, shit, you feel so good, your mouth- fuck, angel, I don’t want to hurt you,” Jungkook was panting hard above you, eyes shut and brows furrowed, jaw slack as he unabashedly continued to moan at your actions. He was reaching behind him to try and hold something, but the smooth wall had nothing to offer him. His fingers were slipping against the tile, so he gave up and instead settled for clenching and unclenching his fists.

You pulled off him with a pop, a string of saliva left in your wake. You smiled up at him as you kept stroking him, not wanting his pleasure to disappear in the slightest.

“You won’t hurt me, Koo,” you reassured him, earning another groan from the man falling apart under your touch. He twitched in your hold, and you stuck your tongue out again to run it along the underside of his length. 

Jungkook chanced looking down at you, only to look up at the ceiling a moment later while he muttered a strained “holy shit.” 

“C’mon baby, don’t you want to look at me,” you taunted him as your tongue played with the head of his cock, swirling around him. The low groans coming from above you let you know that he enjoyed that a lot.

“Fuck, angel, I-” Jungkook’s sentence died as a moan ripped itself from his throat when you surged back down to take all of him in again. This time you continued moving, feeling the tears in the corners of your eyes but not stopping.

It wasn’t like you’d never sucked him off like this before, seeing as it was one of your favorite activities, after all. But it was a rare occasion where Jungkook would let you take all of him in one go for fear of hurting you. So, you took these chances whenever they presented themselves, and the reward was always, always worth it.

Tears along with the water droplets from the shower were coating your face but you didn’t care. All of your focus was on Jungkook and how he was trying so hard to restrain himself above you. You watched his fists clench and unclench and you could feel himself struggle to keep his hips from moving forward so he didn’t fuck your mouth.

Yeah, you weren’t having that. You wanted him to let go, wanted him to know that it was ok, that you wanted this. You reached out to grab one of his hands and placed it in your hair, relishing in the way his fingers immediately tangled themselves into the wet strands. You pulled your mouth off of him again, but not before letting your tongue drag slowly across every inch of him.

You looked up at him again as you pumped him leisurely, waiting until he brought his gaze down to stare at you, only for him to quickly close his eyes again.

“God, I can’t look at you, like I want to, fuck do I want to, but you look so fucking good like this, I’m not gonna last-”

You always found his stammering to be cute and you didn’t want to torture him too much longer. Deciding that you’d teased him enough, you took all of him into your mouth again, intertwining your fingers with his unoccupied hand and giving it a squeeze. The intimacy of this particular action was always enough to get both of you going, and it had Jungkook’s hips stuttering as you sucked hard.

“Fuck, baby, always take me so good like this. Always so good for me, I love you, fuck,” he was groaning as his head hit the wall behind him again, his hold in your hair tightening the same moment you felt him buck his hips like you’d been wanting all this time.

Unfortunately, for you, whenever Jungkook would fuck your mouth, no matter how much you wanted to sit there and take it without issue, his size always proved to be too big for you to handle and it had you coughing around his length in no time. Which, of course, always made Jungkook stop what he was doing before either of you had the chance to enjoy it much.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so sorry, are you ok?” Jungkook pulled you up while you kept coughing, brushing the wet strands of hair out of your face and looking at you with worry. You nodded and tried to reassure him, wanting to get back on your knees for him, but he held you in place.

“You don’t want me to continue,” you asked, your voice a little more hoarse than usual thanks to what your throat had just endured.

Jungkook shook his head. “No, angel, it’s not that. If you do keep going, I’ll cum in no time.” He brushed some of the water away from under your eyes, not knowing if it was tears or from the shower. He bent down to place a rough kiss on your lips, such a contrast from how his hands caressed your face.

“I want to be inside of you when that happens,” he murmured against you, gently biting down on your bottom lip and pulling a whine from you, in turn causing more wetness to gush between your legs. “If you’ll let me, of course.”

You almost laughed. “Koo, you know I’ll let you do anything at this point.”

He chuckled. “That’s a dangerous admission, baby. You sure about that?”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. “Of course I’m sure. I’d let you do anything you want because I trust you. Because I love you,” it was your turn to kiss him this time, and it was filled with so much passion it nearly made him dizzy. Jungkook could never get tired of the feeling of your lips against his, of hearing you say that you loved him, of feeling your skin pressed against each other during times like these.

Jungkook was hooked on you and he never wanted to go back to a time where he wasn’t.

You pulled him out of his thoughts as you tugged on some of his hair, earning a delicious sounding grunt from him. You whispered your next snarky comment right by his ear.

“You gonna fuck me now, baby?”

Your bluntness had his cock quickly stirring back to life after it had softened some during your coughing incident. He growled low and dark as he started placing love bites on your collarbone.

“Sure you don’t want me to return the favor first, angel?” He was marking up your skin while he asked this, so you almost didn’t realize what he was asking specifically but then it dawned on you.

“As much I love seeing you with your head between my legs,” you responded, tugging on his hair again, “I’d rather have you fuck me up against this wall.”

He moaned against your collarbone, the action vibrating your skin. He pulled off of you and brought your lips to his in a filthy kiss. “Your wish is my command.”

Jungkook lifted you up then by placing his hands under your ass and you got the message, wrapping your legs around him as he held you up. He turned so your back was against the wall, the only things now holding you up being his strong arms and the smooth tile behind you.

He first plunged two fingers inside you without a warning, making you let out a silent scream. He smirked at the way you clenched around his fingers, scissoring them before pulling them out again. You whined at the loss and he shushed you with a gentle kiss on your nose.

“Had to make sure you’re ready, baby.” He had one arm wrapped around your waist, trapped in between your back and the shower wall. With his now free hand, he lined himself up with your entrance, moaning when the tip of his cock was sucked in by your velvety walls.

“Fuck, you already feel so good and I’m barely in yet,” he clenched his jaw as he sank further into you inch by inch. When he finally bottomed out and was filling you up in the best way possible, you clenched around him to tease him further, making him curse.

“Watch it, angel,” he growled. “You’re gonna make it very hard for me to not blow it if you keep doing that, and I want you there with me when I do.”

“Then I guess you’d better start moving,” you teased, wrapping your arms more tightly around his neck. You knew what was coming next; Jungkook would put you exactly in your place, just like you wanted. And for that you needed to hold on tight for dear life because that man could rock you like nothing ever had before.

Jungkook grabbed your hips firmly in his hold as he fucked up into you, making sure you were held against the wall and weren’t in danger of falling down as he did so. Despite this, each thrust had you sliding more up the wall until he would bring you back down again. When he found a pace that was he was sure he could resume without either of you getting hurt, he finally let go.

To say you saw stars would be an understatement. Jungkook was fucking you with so much vigor that you weren’t just seeing stars, you were sure you were seeing entire galaxies. Your sounds kept dying out on your tongue because the feeling was so overwhelming and it had your trembling around him in no time.

“Can’t make any sounds when I’m fucking you this good, angel?” Jungkook was taunting you now and quite frankly, he was right, he was fucking you so good that you were finding it hard to say anything. And the mixture of his dirty words with the sweet pet name you adored had you clenching even tighter around him, causing him to groan loudly and grip your waist tighter.

You eventually found your voice again when Jungkook hit a certain spot inside of you, pulling an embarrassingly loud whine from your throat. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, tears almost brimming in your eyes once again at how good he felt.

“Fuck, Jungkook, feels so good, oh my God-” your praises made him twitch inside you as he moved his hands now from your waist to hold you up by cupping your ass, squeezing tightly in time with his thrusts. He was bouncing you up and down on his cock now with his strength alone, and the thought of it made your orgasm start to approach at an alarmingly fast rate.

“I love feeling you so close like this, I love you, so fucking much, shit-” Jungkook cut himself off as threw his head back to get his hair out of his face, careful not to let his balance falter or his grip slip on you. He had to do it though because his hair was keeping him from seeing your face now that you were leaning your head back against the wall, and he couldn’t have that.

“I love you, Jungkook, I’m close, fuck,” you were breathing hard as you couldn’t control your moans any longer, eyes squeezed shut and tears falling from just how much pleasure you were receiving and also how much you loved this man. Jungkook was the man you’d loved for so many years before you were finally able to call him yours. He always took care of you in every aspect of life, and you reciprocated it as best you could. And it was because of this kind of love you two had for each other that made these intimate times all the more meaningful. You were sitting here, back up against a shower wall in the arms of the man you loved while he rearranged your guts, and it was such an emotional experience alongside being a pleasurable one that the tears actually made sense.

Jungkook bit down on your shoulder and pulled you out of your reverie, making you cry out as he muffled his own sounds against your skin. You could tell by his thrusts that he was getting close now, his grunts happening more frequently and louder, echoing off the tiled shower walls. The water had already started to get cold but neither of you cared. Nothing outside of the two of you existed in this moment, and that was exactly how you liked it.

“Touch yourself for me, baby, I’m close, want you to be there with me,” Jungkook breathed out, his grip on your ass harsher now and you were sure there’d be marks tomorrow. You loved it when he marked you up, and even though he always felt slightly bad about it, you knew Jungkook loved seeing the marks, too.

You obeyed his command and reached down to rub your clit, nearly shrieking at the new wave of pleasure that washed over you. The sensations on your clit, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside of you, the way he was holding you, and all the things he was saying to you was enough to finally push you over the edge.

“Jungkook, I’m cumming, fuck-” you barely had time to utter out your warning before you were cumming hard around his length, your body spasming as he held you through it.

He sped up then, chasing his own high now, the feeling of your walls clenching around him making his eyes roll back. “Fuck, I can feel you, always so perfect for me, I’m close-”

His eyes were closed now so he didn’t see you reach for him. You pulled him closer so you could kiss him, hoping to help him along this way, swallowing down every beautiful sound he was making. “C’mon Koo, cum for me, wanna feel you fill me up.”

“Fuuuuck,” he moaned out, loud and long as that was the last thing he needed to get him there. His hips stuttered a few more times before you felt him twitch and fill you up, just like you wanted. Because gravity was working against you due to your current position, you could feel some of it dripping out of you despite Jungkook still being inside of you. The feeling made you scrunch up your nose, and the action made Jungkook laugh and mumble out ‘cute’ as he placed a kiss on the tip of your nose.

He pulled out of you carefully before moving you away from the wall so he could set you down on your feet. Your legs were a little wobbly, so he let you brace yourself against him as he helped you clean up.

The water was nearing a very uncomfortable cold temperature, but the both of you would rather endure that than leave the shower without cleaning off completely. After the workout you both had, there was nothing more you wanted than to curl up with each other in the bed.

After helping each other get clean again, and stealing quite a few kisses while doing so, Jungkook helped you out of the shower since you still didn’t trust your legs and dried you off before taking care of himself. Your heart swelled at the sight of him as it always did when he would take care of you like this.

You just hoped that you were taking care of him in all the ways he needed as well. You were certainly trying your best and would continue to do so for the rest of your life.

Once you were both snuggled into bed, him with an arm under you and you with your face nuzzling against his chest, you broke the silence first.

“If that’s what happens when I let you put paint on me, we should do that more often.”

Jungkook, who was tracing invisible patterns on your back in between your shoulder blades, laughed so hard you shook along with him. When he finally calmed down, he was able to answer you. “I totally agree. Although, I don’t think that happened because I painted you. It happened because you-” he booped you on the nose “-teased me, knowing full well what happens when you do.”

You shrugged as best you could with his arms around you. “You love it, though.”

Jungkook chuckled. “Indeed I do.” He placed a kiss on the top of your head and resumed his earlier soothing tracing of patterns on your skin. You rested your cheek against his chest and could hear his heartbeat, slow and steady. The combined actions of his hands and the steady thrum of his heartbeat was enough to have slumber calling your name in a matter of minutes.

Jungkook had something more to say, however.

“Hey,” he called gently, making you look up at him with groggy eyes. He smiled at the sight. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For helping me. For being my muse. I’ve got more ideas now about what else to create, and I don’t think I could’ve gotten there without your help.”

You smiled at him before you placed your head down again and shut your eyes once more, breathing deeply. “You would’ve eventually. That’s just how you are. Maybe I sped up the process, but you would’ve done fine.”

“Perhaps,” he sighed and looked at the ceiling. His glance travelled down to look at your nearly sleeping form, laying on him calm and unbothered. Moments like these topped his list of favorite things, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world.

“Goodnight, angel,” he murmured softly, not sure if you were asleep or not yet. You muttered something unintelligible back, but he knew you were telling him goodnight all the same, and it brought a smile to his face.

Jungkook wanted to tackle life with you, the good, the bad, all of it; he wanted to do it with you by his side. He wanted to make sure every day of your life from here on out was filled with happiness and love and everything you deserved in the world, just as you wanted to do the same for him. He knew you’d do anything for him, and he’d do anything for you.

Only for you.

[brattyfics]

— until we meet again, preciosa

PAIRING || bishop losa x black!ofc, miguel galindo x black!ofc (mentioned)

SUMMARY || She’s not his, and she won’t ever be, so he leaves her with words whispered like a promise. “Until we meet again, preciosa.”

TAGS || angst, unresolved feelings, not a hea, mentions of toxic relationships, sex (referenced).

WORD COUNT || 1.6k

Shadowy clouds hang overhead, blocking out the warming glow of the Sun. Raindrops pelt the roof above, drumming a beat of their own before pooling down to the concrete paved streets below. Isis watches stray droplets gather on the tall windows for several moments before stepping out onto the covered balcony. It felt colder than usual inside the three-story, Spanish-style shophouse, but outside it’s the opposite-- balmy, earthy. The air is heavy with humidity, so she has to take deep breaths, but she doesn’t enjoy it any less. Invigoration comes with the rain, brings hope for new beginnings, renews faith for the hopeless.

Down below, people dart between vendors to continue their shopping as the rain lightens. Colorful rays spring from puddles up towards the sky. A pair of young siblings splash each other while their mother sells delicious smelling tamales wrapped in banana leaves. Another young woman peddles gold necklaces, praying candles, and other little knick-knacks to the tourists of Sonora. Everybody has to make a living, including Isis.

She spends her days stroking the strings of a guitar or the keys of her piano, helping patrons of the music shop in between. The ground floor of the shophouse boasts string instruments and an extensive collection of vinyl records. After hours, she makes money hosting private piano lessons. She performs at the Discoteca down the street on weekends, fueling her passion for music almost 24/7 except when Preciosa is closed for ‘maintenance’.

Overstock merchandise and whatever else the Mayans’ Motorcycle Clubs needs to store clutters the second floor. Don’t ask, don’t tell is her motto, so whenever they come to the shop, she simply flips the sign to closed. There’s no point in fighting it. Besides, El Presidente always makes it a bearable, if not pleasant, experience. Bishop had called ahead to warn her that he was bringing Hank, Angel, and the new prospect, Angel’s baby brother, along. She could hear them bumping around, a noisy reminder that her shop only thrived because of the illegal deals happening in the back.

“Why don’t you put all that time and energy into something that’ll get you somewhere?” Being a musician wasn’t an acceptable career in her mother’s eyes, so the woman took every chance she could to crush her daughter’s dreams. “Nobody wants to hear all that noise!” Staring out into the street, she can’t help but wonder where she would’ve ended up if her mother had been supportive. Maybe she could have been a star rising to the top of Billboard charts or someone who worked behind the scenes, writing songs, singing demos. She had the skill set. Yes, her path would have been much different.

Isis had stood front and center, crooning out an old school blues song at a hole-in-the-wall spot when Miguel Galindo first laid eyes on her. It was a chance meeting, one that felt like fate at the time because dive bars weren’t his scene. The owner was a business associate who decided to try his hand at being a restaurateur; Miguel had been kind enough to come out and support. When he caught sight of her shapely frame in a slinky, satin number, he insisted on being introduced.

Miguel stood out in a crowd, wearing a tailored button-down, dark dress pants, and an expensive pair of Italian leather shoes. His salt and pepper beard groomed to perfection, hair gelled so that no strand was out of place. The moment she’d looked into his eyes, she was caught in his web. His masculine scent drew her in like honey to a bee. His charisma held her attention. Miguel sweet-talked her all night, insisting Isis sit next to him, eat h’orderves, and drink overpriced champagne. She obliged. Who could say no to that face? He used their close proximity to reel her in like a fish on a hook, leaning down to whisper in her ear. You’re beautiful. He told her. You have such a smooth, seductive tone. You should be performing for bigger crowds. Have you ever thought about branching out? He told her everything her mother never had, so she was a lamb to the slaughter.

For months, Miguel had treated her like his very own LifeSize doll to play with. He took her on shopping sprees, kept her draped in silk and lace. Isis didn’t think of herself as materialistic, but she couldn’t deny being showered in gifts felt splendid. He was always so tender, handling her delicately as his newest prized possession. As time went on, she became more like an ornament. Something for him to marvel at when he felt like it and then hide away the rest of the time. But nothing was worse than him leaving her to harden after he was finished molding her like clay. She asked for more—time, commitment, only for him to do the opposite.

Thus, Preciosa was born. A way for him to placate her and later make it easier for the M.C. to make him money.

“Just a few more minutes, and we’ll be out your way.” Isis jumped at the sound, turning away from the street to see Bishop. She hadn’t heard him come outside; didn’t expect him to venture up into her personal space.

Isis’ smile rarely reached her eyes, Bishop noticed. He stepped forward, holding a velvet box that felt heavier than it was. Her fingertips tickled him as he passed it over. Diamonds surrounded in white gold gleamed as the clouds cleared away for the Sun. Even Bishop could admit the set was gorgeous, but she didn’t look impressed. He hated being Galindo’s delivery boy, watching the way her face fell when the gifts she received became increasingly impersonal with each week. Not long ago, he’d also been tasked with passing along handwritten love notes or antique music sheets that she caressed like she would a lover’s skin.

“Thank you.”

She couldn’t hide her disappointment from him. Not for lack of trying-- Miguel always reminded her, appearances were everything. Smile. Don’t make me look bad. But Bishop watched her closely, knew her tells. Despite every nerve in his brain urging him to walk away, he steps forward to stand next to her. His calloused hands rest on the balcony’s edge next to her delicate pair, brown in varying tones of sepia and mahogany contrasting against the white paint.

Bishop feels the heat of her eyes on his frame, but he doesn’t let himself respond. Sharing this moment, a quick breath of fresh air will have to be enough. But she’s all around him, smelling of florals and sweet spices. He can’t think. He fumbles with his pockets in search of a cigarette. “You mind?” She shakes her head but is otherwise silent. Still watching him as he smokes; the way he takes long, steady pulls, cradling the stick between his full lips and then between his strong, veined fingers. She would bet her last dollar that he was an expert at other things involving his fingers and mouth.

When his hand drops again, she links her pinky with his, hesitant but exploratory.

Bishop looks at her, really looks at her like he sees her. It’s nice to be seen, especially when you’re the princess locked up far, far away from everyone you’ve ever known. She’s a black girl from Texas living in Sonora for goodness’ sake. This is no life, and she knows it. Several moments pass where neither can look away, both weighing their desires with the potential consequences.

With a deep breath in, she musters up the courage to ask Bishop what she’s been wanting to for months.

“Stay?”

Her heart feels like it might just explode while she waits for a response.

Bishop drops his head to his chest, cursing under his breath. “Fuck.” If Miguel ever found out… But he already knew what his answer would be. He’d been waiting for the invitation. The heated looks they exchanged, the way her fingers lingered on his when he passed her something. That damned pout she wore when Miguel forgot to send a flower arrangement-- she had no idea Bishop had been the one buying the flowers for some time now. No matter what mood she was in, fresh flowers always brightened her day. He loved watching that lonely look transform into something more lively, curious as she marveled over his choice for the week. He went for variety, slowly learning what she loved and what she just liked; her favorite color, favorite scent.

The subtle tension between them, he wasn’t even certain she noticed. The cash and the bling could’ve blinded her to all other men. But it didn’t.

When the Sun had gone down several hours later, and the guys were gone, Bishop redressed. Belt buckling with a clink, leather sliding over his shoulders easily. He let himself take one last look at her wrapped up in a poofy comforter set. The mustard-yellow velvet complimented her skin in the best way, bringing out a gold undertone. Her eyes seem to have brightened as well. He couldn’t resist leaning over to stroke her sweaty skin. Dark coils stuck to her beautiful face, frizzy in some parts from when she rode him, sweat escaping from her pores, flat in the others from when he laid her on her back and hooked her legs over her shoulders.

He wants to stay, to prop himself up against the intricately carved wood headboard and hold her in his lap while they whisper sweet nothing to each other, but he can’t.

She’s not his, and she won’t ever be, so he leaves her with words whispered like a promise. “Until we meet again, preciosa.”

NOTES || This fic and the collage above was inspired by @isisafrofairy’s gorgeous moodboard! Also, the wonderful “Until we meet again, preciosa” line is hers as well. This is my thank you for the moodboard you made for me. I really leaned on the pictures you used for inspiration and I think I managed to capture/include each element. It was so hard not to ruin the surprise, but I was able to shut tf up for once 😂 I’m really proud of how this turned out, and hopefully you enjoy it just as much! Also, I realize the moodboard had nothing to do with Miguel but he lives in my head rent-free apparently 🥴

GENERAL TAGLIST || @woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sheeshgivemeabreak @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @glimmerglittergirl @apantherinmypastlife @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @thewarriorprincessxo @sadeyesgf @pearlkitten33 @imanerdychubbyqueen @literaturefeen @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @everyhowlmarksthedead @yourwonkywriter @trulysuccubus @sparklemichele @luckyharley1903 @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @amorestevens​

MAYANS M.C. TAGLIST || @cant-decide-at-this-moment

[laurie-stark]

Get up and get out

Summary: Sort of part two to Unwanted. A year after fighting in Germany, y/n has to deal with the insufferable Peter Parker being around the house all the time. 

Pairings: Peter Parker x stark!reader, tony stark x daughter!reader, Natasha Romanoff x daughter!reader. 

Warnings: swearing, angst? i guess? mentions of blood. mentions of panic nightmares 

A/N: Again, I want to make it very clear so there isn’t any confusion: Y/n is Tony’s biological child, however, being raised also by Natasha, Steve and Pepper, she calls them Muma, Pops and Mom. Hopefully that makes sense LOL oh and also i’ve never written like...kiss scenes before so just go with it okay?

He was here again. Third time this week that he has come barging into my home and taken over my training center. Okay, to be fair, it was not my training center but still. Peter Parker will never stop being a pain in my ass. Ever since that stupid trip to Germany, he has been coming over and training for hours, or working with Dad. Three times just this week I’ve had to endure listening to Peter talk with his stupid little voice and walk around my house like he owns the place. Who does he think he is? And every time I have to sit through another dinner of Dad blabbing on and on about what a miraculous boy he is.

               “Really y/n, I think you two would be great friends,” I rolled my eyes as I picked at my dinner. The rest of the family ate in silence around the table. The last thing I wanted to do is spend more time with stupid Spider-boy. On the afternoons when he was here, I tried my best to stay out of his way. I would stay on my floor and he stays on his. Simple. I don’t need a new friend.

“…And he’s coming by again tomorrow, so I was thinking of showing him A.P.R.I.L. if you wanted to join us-” Dad continued.

What the hell? I thought. “No!” I snapped. “No way. A.P.R.I.L. is mine, I don’t want him messing with her.” Dad frowned at me. The rest of the table looked up in my direction. My shoulders tensed up as I faced my father. A.P.R.I.L. is my baby and I was ready to go toe to toe with him if I needed too.

“What do you mean no? I thought you’d be excited to share that with him,” he started.

“Well I’m not, so back off,” I sneered. The shift in his expression made me want to bite my own tongue. “Please.”

“I seriously do not understand what your problem is. You’ve been complaining for years how there’s only adults but the second a kid your age comes by you’re all “oooh no don’t talk to me Peter!””

I scoffed. “Sorry, I guess I just don’t want to bother you and your new best friend.”

“There it is. Why are you so jealous of him? He’s not that cool. He hasn’t made a fully functioning A.I at the age of 15. He just spits sticky stuff out of his fingers. Honestly y/n, you’re making zero sense right now.”

“Whatever, I’m over this,” I said, pushing my chair back from the table. I grabbed my untouched dinner plate and headed towards the kitchen. “I’m not hungry. And don’t show him A.P.R.I.L., I mean it!” I dumped my plate in the sink and marched right down the hall towards the elevators. My dad was right. I wasn’t making any sense. Ever since I made A.P.R.I.L I’ve used every excuse I could find to shove her down people’s throats. Anyone who would listen to me, I would tell them. Tell them all about how I programmed her to have realistic personality. How she’s running through the walls of this place, through my room, even inside the bracelet I never take off. All I knew is that I didn’t want Peter Parker anywhere near her.

I shut the door to my hard, and flopped onto my bed. A.P.R.I.L. reminded me that slamming the doors usually results in a punishment. I acknowledged her with a half-hearted grunt. I started programming A.P.R.I.L. when I was thirteen. Or rather, reprogrammed. A.P.R.I.L. was made from an older prototype version of F.R.I.D.A.Y. The base stuff was already there, I just moved some things here, recoded there until she was perfect. I don’t know why I got so defensive about Peter meeting her. Or why I had to pick another fight with my dad.

It was easier these days. To fight him, I mean. I suppose I never got over the whole “Peter is better, I choose him over you, blah, blah” thing as much as I thought I did. So, I would pick fights. Fighting over Peter was the simplest way to go, considering he was the reason I was so angry in the first place. Sometimes we would fight over him, other times we would fight over silly things. Like how I keep forgetting not to put my coffee grounds in the garbage disposal. Most of the time it was all just bickering that would blow over in thirty minutes, give or take. Sometimes it was explosive, like today.  I took in a shaky breath and sprawled out across my sheets. Sometimes this family is a fucking nightmare.

Dad didn’t come by this time. It threw me off for a second because he always comes by. Even if it’s six hours later and neither of us should be awake, he still comes by with a box of milk duds that we share in silence before one of us apologizes first. That’s how we work. When it finally sunk in that he was not planning on coming, I put A.P.R.I.L. on the job. I figured perhaps he left the compound, maybe took Mom for a nighttime stroll.

“Your father is on floor B, Miss Stark,” A.P.R.I.L. informed me.

“Jesus A.P.R.I.L., how many times have I said to cut the formalities,” I muttered.

“My apologies, y/n.”

Floor B. What the hell is he doing on floor B at…12:00 in the morning? Floor B is strictly for members of household and other Avengers. There are a billion different training rooms down there. Weight rooms, boxing, a huge pool, stuff like that. Not to taint his image, but I can safely say the last time my father willingly worked out for fun was probably before I was even born. Why was he down there? Unless…

“A.P.R.I.L. who else is on floor B right now?” I asked. “Throw it on the hologram, would you dear?

The sounds of the hologram starting filled the room. A.P.R.I.L. pulled up the security map of floor B, like I’d asked. There was my dad, floor B in the boxing room of all places. Pops and Sam looked to be going at it in another one of the combat training rooms. My confusion only rose when another nametag popped up on the screen. My brows furrowed.

Peter Parker

What was he doing here? Why was he boxing? Why was he not in his own home at midnight on a Thursday? My mind was spinning with questions. A knock at my door startled me.

“Come in…”

Natasha popped her head through the doorway. “Hey there…whatcha doing kid?”

I swiftly swiped away the hologram screen and sat up straight. “Nothing. What’s up?”

“Well, we’re getting a little worried about you,” she said. We being everyone else at the table who had to witness my brawl with Dad. She sat down beside me. “You haven’t fought back like that in a long time and I’ve noticed you’re fighting with him a lot recently. You want to tell me what that’s all about?”

I wanted too. God, I wanted too. I hadn’t told anyone what my father said to me that day after the airport, not even my mom. But it didn’t matter. I’d get over it sooner or later, so there was no point troubling anyone else with my problems…right? My eyes started to well up but I blinked away the tears. “No. Everything’s fine,” I put on a smile.

Natasha tucked me in under her arm. “Okay then. Maybe tomorrow.” That was Muma for you. She never pushed me to talk but knew I would come around at some point. In the meantime, she just held me. I cried into her embrace. She let me cry into her shoulder for a long while, until I was empty. After a time, I let go and she got up, giving me a kiss on the head before wishing me a good night.

I rubbed my hands over my face, brushing off any remaining tears. “A.P.R.I.L. bring the hologram back up please.”

“Are you sure y/n?”

…

“Yeah.”

Peter was still in the boxing room but my father was not. Upon further digging, I found the nametag reading Tony Stark on my floor. He’d gone to bed. I pondered to myself as to whether or not I should venture downstairs. What is the worst thing that could happen? Peter is secretly a Hydra spy and kills me? No, I shook my head. Don’t be ridiculous. Another minute passed and I’d made up my mind.

“A.P.R.I.L. engage “I am definitely here”,” I commanded.

“”I am definitely here” protocol engaged. Volume minimized to 5% and your tracking tag will be pinned to this room,” A.P.R.I.L. responded. “Good luck on your mission small agent.”

“Oh shut up,” I chided. I closed the door to my room as softly as I could. It was nearly one in the morning, most of the hall would be asleep. Or at least they should be. The hallway was silent, except for the soft noise of my socks padding along the floor. I cursed myself for looking so ridiculous. If anyone caught me, I could easily say that I was just getting a midnight snack. Not sneaking down to spy on Spider-bitch. Boy. Whatever. Sneaking added to the excitement.

I made it downstairs all in one piece. Steve and Sam nearly passed me in one of the halls, but I had ducked into a briefing room. I could totally be a spy. Maybe I’m a Hydra spy. I thought. And they sent me here as a baby to take down the Avengers from the inside. What was I going on about? This was why I should really be in bed, I was clearly delirious. Once again, distracting myself in my thoughts led to me getting startled. I hadn’t even realized I was outside the boxing room. I would have walked right in if not for the handy wall that I smacked into.

Peter was in the ring, practicing his punches. He’d lowered down one of the punching bags from the ceiling and it was close to ripping at the seams. He was really going ham on it. The questions piled on. So, he came over to my house at midnight to…train? Something he had all afternoon today to do? God, he was weird. I suppose I didn’t quite know what I was going to get myself into when I finally walked in to confront him.

“What are you doing?” I asked, arms folded tightly across my chest.

Peter started and looked down at me. Sweat was dripping down his face. He looked exhausted. “Training,” he said bluntly. He returned to treating the punching bag like it had run over his dog.

“At one in the morning? And after you spent like six hours today doing just that?” I was not letting him off that easy. Peter ignored me and continued punching. “Your form is shit.” I mocked.

That made him stop. “Funny coming from the girl who never leaves her room. When have you ever trained? Like ever?”

“I still beat your ass.”

“Yeah like, a year ago when I was barely an avenger.”

I rolled my eyes. “You still aren’t.”

“What do you want?” Peter spat.

I shrugged. “Dunno.” I stared him down with a smug look on my face.

“You are always such a bitch, you know that?”

I faked a pout. “Aw…bite me.”

Peter was chewing the inside of his cheek in anger. “If you’re going to stay here and pester me, you might as well get a few punches in.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Consider it a rematch.”

I studied his physique for a moment. He’d grown a lot since Germany. He’d also trained a lot since then as well. I had done little of either. I knew that entering that ring would probably end up with me losing my dignity and maybe even a tooth. But I was not going to let him stand there with his stupid, sweaty face and get away with it. This is not a good idea, I thought as I took off my socks. I moved the ropes and stepped into the ring, standing a foot in front of the boy.

“I’ll still win.”

“No powers either.”

“Deal.” Not like I’ve touched my powers since…since the incident.

Peter took his stance and I did my best to mirror him. I realized in that moment that I had no idea what I was doing. I didn’t know the first thing about boxing. Or sparring. I didn’t know how to fight without my powers. Oh, sweet Jesus.

We kept our distance at first, fists up. He threw a few punches and missed. I followed in suit. I finally got the first hit, a nice throw to his chest. He took it like a champ and didn’t flinch. Or rather, I couldn’t hit for shit and it didn’t hurt. He threw a punch to my left, only to miss on purpose and punched me square across my jaw. Ow. I chuckled lowly. The taste of blood filled my mouth from the fresh cut on my lip. I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth. All I could see was white rage.

Forget form, forget rules, forget everything. I lunged at him with everything I had. Lunged at him for all the bullshit he had brought into my life. For all the bitter things I had to hear my father say that weren’t even Peter’s fault. He was clearly not expecting my attack because we both fell to the ground. We fought tirelessly on the mat. He was physically stronger than me, so by default he was winning. He wrestled me until I was pinned under him. One hand was pinning my hand above my head, the other arm pinning down my body. In any other circumstances I would be amused to find myself in such a scandal. I looked in his eyes briefly and I could already tell he thought that he was winning. If there’s one thing I learned from Nat, it’s to always step on their moment. I hooked my leg around his knee and used all my force to flip us over. I had him pinned down now, my hair falling around my face. We were both breathing heavily.

“Told you,” I taunted. I was mentally preparing him to punch back but he didn’t. He snapped his arms out from under me and shoved me off him, hard. I fell back against the mat. He rose to his feet, brushing his hands off on his pants. “What the hell?” I exclaimed. I jumped to my feet while his back was turned to me and gave him a taste of his own medicine. He stumbled a few steps after I pushed him. Slowly, he stretched back up to reach his full height.

“You’re right,” he turned to face me and extended a hand. “Shake on the truce?” I took his hand, accepting his surrender. Only, he was not really surrendering. The moment my hand touched his, he yanked me towards him. I tripped over my feet and fell into him. My chest crashed onto his. The world was a blur as he grabbed me with force and spun us around, so he could push me up against the ropes of the ring.

“Stop, Peter get off me you bitch!” I fought back. I flailed my whole body around, trying to break loose. One hand reached up to grab the back of my head, pulling my hair and forcing my head back. I froze. His face was dangerously close to my exposed neck. His shift let my opposite arm break free. I took a breathe and reeled it back, ready to smack him in the across the face. He caught my wrist in time without taking his eyes off mine.

He lowered his head to whisper in my ear, “I win.” His breathe trickled down my neck. He had won, but he wasn’t moving. One hand was still in my hair, the other was pinning me against the ropes. His chest breathed heavily against my own. His grip on my head loosened slightly and I was able to look him straight on. He had that same smug look pasted across his face. His eyes moved from mine, trailing down my face, my neck, my body, before they settled on my lips. I momentarily lost the ability to breathe.

He kissed me hard. I tensed up slightly before giving into him completely. It tasted like blood and sweat and I felt like I was losing my mind. He pulled me closer, if that was even possible and claimed my mouth with his until my knees gave out. A newfound wave of warm washed through me. The hand in my hair gave a slight tug and my lips parted while that same hand moved to cup my jaw. For all I knew, the entire compound was wide awake and watching but I did not care. I brought my fingers to his hair, tugging at the ends. I smiled cunningly when he groaned into my mouth. He kissed me greedily and fully. Like he hated me. And I hated him.

We broke apart, limbs numb and chests heaving. The moment had passed, and our actions sunk in. What. The. Fuck. He lifted the ropes for me, and I climbed out of the ring. My head was still spinning from that kiss and my lip stung. Consequences I suppose, for kissing someone with a busted lip. I silently pulled my socks back on and Peter handed me a towel. Neither of us said another word. I left the room and didn’t look back. I could hear him behind me, but I was in no rush to have to look him in the eye ever again. What just happened?

 I woke the next morning to A.P.R.I.L. alerting me that “Father Dearest” was outside my door. He came in and sat on the edge of the bed. We both stayed quiet for a while.

I spoke first. “Where were you last night? You didn’t come by after…” I let my words trail off.

“I was going to, I swear. But then something came up with Peter and I had to go take care of that,” Dad answered.

I frowned. “Typical. Peter over your own flesh and blood, right?”

Dad inhaled sharply like he was going to bite back, but changed his mind. “That’s not true and you know it. Peter is…he’s going through something and I knew how to help him. Not everything is about you, you narcissist,” He said, joking at the end.

I had to push down my own smile. “Yeah well where do you think I got it from?” I sat up and leaned into my father. He brushed a hand down my back. “So, what’s wrong with Peter then?”

“I really shouldn’t tell you, it’s personal.” I looked up at him with my doe eyes. He rolled his eyes and sighed, nodding a silent defeat. I felt like I was nine again and he was gossiping with me about the latest secretary. Like every fight had been forgotten in this moment. “He’s been having some nightmares ever since DC. You remember the ones we used to get after Loki?” I nodded. “Now you, you always amazed me at how you handled those. But for me and Peter, we needed a different outlet. So, I let him come over in the middle of the night. I didn’t think anyone would notice.” I hummed in response, not sure what to make of that information. I mean, I kind of felt bad for the guy. He was still a bitch, but those dreams suck. No one should have to deal with them. “He really isn’t as bad as you think, you know.”

“Yeah,” I hummed. “I think you’re right.”

tag list:

@runawayolives @ creation-magician @ eridanuswave @ markhyucksmells @ beep-beep-losersclub

[hangovercurse]

Stay With You

You get the call after Rook’s accident and go to the hospital to take care of him.

Requests: “ Could you maybe write another Rook story about where you get the call after his accident that he’s in the hospital and just always staying there with him and when his dad shows up he sees you leaning on the bed sleeping holding Rooks hand or something and he knows you’ll take care of him? I just really love Rook “ “ I was wondering if you know what happened to rook and if you could write something cute like taking care of him after being worried at first about him. I had a mental breakdown when we got the news I'm hoping he gets well soon “

JP “Rook” Cappelletty X Reader

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of the accident (violence, broken bones, etc.), angst

A/N: I have been following every update from Rook and his Dad bc I have been so worried. It looks like he’s finally able to go home tonight but I’m still going out of my mind. I tried my best to do what happened justice (without being too depressing) and ended up needing a part 2. I had to reread what happened like 30 times so y’all better enjoy this just for my heartbreak alone. 

Word Count: 3409

part ii

You were always scared when you got a phone call from an unknown number when Rook was out for the night. You’d gotten calls from the police station and hospital more than once, so you’d learn to expect trouble when your phone rang.

But this was not what you were expecting.

“Excuse me, is this Y/N Y/L/N, the emergency contact for JP Cappelletty?” A female’s voice rang out through the line. You rolled your eyes.

“This is her, what did he do this time?” You smiled, figuring he’d gotten hurt doing something stupid and just needed stiches.

She cleared her throat, “Mr. Cappelletty has been involved in a serious accident. He’s currently at Southern California Hospital awaiting treatment.”

You felt like your entire body stopped working. Your throat closed up and you started shaking. A normal phone call wouldn’t use the words “serious accident,” they would just say he’d been admitted for “minor treatment.”

“Can I come see him?” You barely got the words out, mind spinning in a million directions. The lady on the end of the phone gave you an affirmation and you thanked her, hanging up quickly and packing a small bag for you and Rook. You threw some of his clothes in, some hygiene supplies for you both, and anything else you could think he’d want. You texted your boss a quick explanation and asked for the next few days off before grabbing your keys, wallet, mask, and Rook’s insurance cards, and heading out the door.

You drove to the hospital, calling Colson on your way, on speaker, of course. “Whaddup?”

“Rook is in the hospital.” You rushed out, still in a bit of a panicked mode.

You could hear his breathing pause before he continued, “it’s probably nothing, you know Rook. He probably just punched a guy or something stupid.”

You had tried to convince yourself of that, but something felt wrong about it. “I know, but the hospital said he was in a serious accident.” You emphasized the word “serious.” “Maybe I’m overreacting but I have this really bad feeling right now.”

Colson’s voice held more worry after your statement, too. “Okay. Just get there and figure out what’s going on and then call me. What hospital is he at?”

“Southern California.”

“That’s like 10 minutes away from me. If it is serious, just call me back and I can be there.” His voice was much calmer than yours, which you were thankful for.”

“Okay.”

“And Y/N,” He paused, “try to stay calm. If it is bad, he’s gonna need you to take care of him.”

You took in a deep breath, trying to slow your heartrate. “Yeah, yeah okay. Thanks.”

“Let me know what’s going on.”

“I will. Thank you, Kells.” You hung up the phone, pulling into the hospital parking garage and turning your car off. You sat in the dark for a few moments, gathering your thoughts, before heading towards the hospital. When you reached the front desk, you gave them Rook’s name and waited as they read your temperature from the touchless thermometer. You had to stop yourself from groaning as she started reading the Covid questionnaire, answering no to every question.

The lady gave you directions to his room, telling you they’ll take your ID once you get up to the fourth floor. Your hands were shaking as you rode the elevator up, and you tried to calm yourself down before you saw your boyfriend. Colson was right, you worrying wouldn’t do anything but make him nervous.

You gave your ID to the security guard on the fourth floor, impatiently waiting for him to print out your visitor’s sticker. Once you had put it on, you walked down the hallway, counting the room numbers to find his. Once you reached the door, you took a deep breath, unsure what you would find beyond it.

You opened it slowly, a sigh of relief when you saw him sitting on the bed, an ice pack pressed against his face. “Babe!” His face lit up when he saw you. He tried to lean forward on his own, but his grimace told you that it hurt him too much.

You smiled, setting the bag in your hands on the floor and adjusting the bed so he didn’t have to lean. “What happened?” You whispered, taking in his state, and pulling down your mask. He had a small bruise under his left eye and there were wires and tubes running up his left arm. His right arm was wrapped in layers of hospital bandage.

He frowned at you, left hand reaching for your hand and motioned you to sit down beside him, so you did, gently.  You wanted to hold his hand, but you were worried it would hurt him more, so you settled to rubbing his thigh gently. “I was walking around in the hills, and then these two guys came out of fucking nowhere. They jumped me and my friend and took a bunch of our shit. I punched one of them but the other one ran to his car and said he had a gun.” Your eyes went wide. “He didn’t have a gun, but he did have a car. And he literally came full speed at me and his partner.”

You tried to stay calm, but his recount of the night made you want to wrap him in bubble wrap and keep him in your house forever. “That sounds so scary, love.” You whispered, your free hand reaching out and stroking his right cheek. He leaned his head into your touch, a small smile on his face. “Did anyone see anything? Or does anyone know who they were?”

He shook his head lightly, “the guy in the car got away, but the other dude got hit too. Pretty sure he’s in this hospital. The cops came in and asked about it earlier, but I’d never seen those guys before.”

You nodded, leaning in, and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I’m very glad you’re okay.” You moved the ice pack from his face, observing the purple mark on his face. You may not know how to take care of broken bones, but you’d been with Rook through more than a few bruises and busted lips. You peppered kisses over the skin lightly, making him smile, which was the best thing you could do at the moment.

“The doctors are supposed to come back in soon. They did some X-Rays earlier to figure out exactly what’s broken, but my hand is definitely fucked up, and my legs.” He raised his right arm, showing you the cuts that ran along it. You frowned. “They said I’ll probably need surgery, which sucks.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” Your voice was soft. You reached your hand to move his braids out of his face, something you’d gotten in the habit of doing quite often.

He shrugged, “I’m fine with it, you’re the one who has to take care of me afterwards.” You smiled and shook your head teasingly.

“I do that anyways, loser.” You chuckled, before a thought popped into your head. “Should I call your dad? I told Colson but I didn’t think to call your dad.”

He shook his head lightly, “Once they told me they’d called you I texted him. He said he’d be here in an hour or so.” You nodded, moving to sit in the chair beside the hospital bed so you could be at eye level with your boyfriend instead of leaning down uncomfortably. “What did Kells say?”

You chuckled, “he said you’d probably just gotten in a fight or did something stupid.” Rook pouted dramatically. “I told him we’d let him know what was going on later and he could come to the hospital if you were up for it.”

He smiled at you as you leaned your head onto the bed, near his abdomen, and looked up at him. He reached to rest his hand on top of yours, even though you could tell it hurt him to do so. You sat in silence for a few moments until you heard a small knock on the door. “Come in.” Rook called, and you sat up, putting on your mask and turning to see who was coming in.

A woman in her early 40s walked in, followed by two younger men. “Hello again, Mr. Cappelletty. I’ve got the results from your scans.” She spoke as the other two placed X-Ray films onto a small lightboard in the room. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize you had company.” She said as she noticed you.

“Oh, it’s okay Dr. Tambi, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.” He smiled, looking towards you. You smiled kindly at the doctor. “She can stay, right?” He asked, his hand curling around yours lightly, you could feel the motion straining him and you flipped your hand around, holding his in yours lightly. You hoped it would hurt him less.

Dr. Tambi gave a nod and flashed you a smile, “of course.” She turned back to the films, pointing at the first one. “This is your left hand. If you look at this part right here, you can see where your second metacarpal fractured at the bottom near the carpal.” She raised her right hand, pointing to the bottom of her pointer finger near the knuckle. “So, we’re going to need to do a minor surgery to fix that up a little bit.” Rook nodded and you ran your hand up and down his arm gently. “Your right hand got off a bit easier,” she pointed to the next X-Ray. “No surgery, we’re gonna put it in a cast for a little while just in case but it might be off before you even leave the hospital.” You could feel him relax under your touch at that.

“But then your legs,” she pointed to the next images, “are a bit more complicated. I would imagine they took a brunt of the hit, correct?” She asked. He nodded again and you bit your lip, trying not to cringe at the image of your boyfriend being hit by a car. “The lower portion of your right tibia shattered into 3 pieces.” She pointed to the bone fragments in the X-ray, and this time a shiver physically went through your body. “So, we’ll need to do surgery to fix that up, too. And your left ankle has a hairline fracture that won’t need surgery, but you will have to stay off of it for a while.”

You looked at Rook, taking in the clench of his jaw. He was trying to look tough, but you could see through him, you always could. You knew he wouldn’t ask, so you did. “How long will they take to heal?”

He turned towards you, a soft smile on his face. You two worked so well because you balanced him out. Whenever he would almost get into a fight at a bar, you would be the rational one to pull him away. When you got too stressed out or uptight, he knew just how to get you to relax. When he was too nervous to think straight, you were there to ask all the right questions. You took care of each other, and you could read him like an open book.

“The left hand won’t need to stay in a cast for very long if the surgery goes well, but the left leg might be in a boot for 6 to 8 weeks, and the right leg will probably be a little bit longer, closer to 8 to 12 weeks.” Rook took in a deep breath, and the hand on his arm squeezed lightly, subtly telling him that you were there for him, and he would be okay. “Once we get the surgeries out of the way we can talk more about the treatment plan going forward, so try not to worry about it too much.” She smiled.

One of the men stepped forward, “I’m Dr. Stenson, I’ll be the anesthesiologist working with you.” Rook nodded towards the man, who continued to go over what Rook could and couldn’t do before the surgery. “How often do you drink or smoke?” He asked, and you let out a small chuckle.

Rook shoved you lightly, a small smile on his face. “Often.” He said, and you tried not to laugh.

“And what do you smoke?” He asked.

You mumbled under your breath, “what doesn’t he smoke is the better question.” Rook heard you, sending you a glare and you giggled quietly.

“Weed and cigarettes.” He said, trying to hide laughter as he watched you out of the corner of his eye. The man nodded and soon after the doctors left, leaving you and Rook alone again. “You’re so mean to me sometimes.” He pouted.

You laughed, “If it wasn’t so easy to make fun of you, I wouldn’t be so mean.”

“I got hit by a car, you have to be nice to me.” He whined and you rolled your eyes jokingly. “That’s a law.” He stated.

“Oh, is it?” You smiled, leaning forward, and pressing a kiss to his lips. “I guess I can be a little nice to you. For now.”

Rook’s expression turned serious, his eyes gazing into yours. “I’m kind of freaking out right now.” He whispered, his forehead resting against yours. “I’m not gonna be able to play for at least 8 weeks. What if I forget how to? Or what if they get into surgery and find out that it’s worse than they thought and I can never play again?”

You sighed, knowing these thoughts had been festering in him since the accident. You brought your hand up to his face, your thumb rubbing circles into his cheek. “Babe listen to me. You are the best drummer I know; you’ve been drumming for what, your entire life? You’re not gonna forget how to drum from 8 weeks off. And even if they get in there and find out its worse than they thought, which they won’t, we’ll figure it out. Everything is gonna be okay. They’ve seen worse fractures than these, trust me, they know what they’re doing.”

He nodded, letting out air through his nose. “But what if I could never drum again? I dropped out of high school. I’ve literally never done anything else except drum. I wouldn’t have money, I wouldn’t have friends because they would be touring all the time, I would lose everything.”

“You’d have me.” You whispered, “You would have me, and your dad, and all the people who really matter, even if they go on tour.”

“You would stay with me even if I was broke?” He sounded so small, so scared, and yet so amazed that you would even hint at the idea.

You frowned, confusion on your face. “I would stay with you if we were living on the streets and eating out of trash cans. But we wouldn’t be, because I also have a job and you’re going to be able to drum in no time.”

You simultaneously loved and hated this side of Rook. He never showed anyone how insecure he could be, and he was so insecure sometimes. You hated seeing him so sad. But you loved it, because you were one of the only people who did see it, because he trusted you enough to let you.

You guys had been friends for years and started dating 3 years ago after he kissed you, completely sober, in the studio while he thought the other guys were taking a break (they were really spying on you two the whole time). In those three years you’d come to know just about everything about each other. You trusted him with every piece of you, and he trusted you. You’d moved in together 2 years ago, and now everyone seemed to be waiting for a ring.

You didn’t mind waiting, you didn’t need to get married to know that Rook loved you or to know that you were going to spend the rest of your life with him. It was clear in the way you looked at each other that there would never be anyone else for either of you.

“I love you.” He mumbled, bringing a smile to your lips.

“I love you too.” You pressed another slow kiss to his soft lips. He closed his eyes as you did so, relaxing into it. You realized how tired he must be. “Why don’t you take a nap, J?” You whispered, and he mumbled a sound of protest, but you could already see him struggling against his sleepiness. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.” You ran your free hand over his forehead, his braids having fallen into his face again, before adjusting his bed so he was laying down more.

It only took you 15 minutes before you fell asleep, your head resting against his stomach and hand still in his.

A little while later, Johnny rushed in the room, worry on his face until he saw the two of you. He smiled, taking a quick picture that he would definitely be showing on your wedding day. You got a good one, son. He thought to himself, feeling a sense of his pride that JP had finally found someone as good as you who would put up with his shit.

He took the seat on the wall opposite of the hospital bed. You came to consciousness 20 minutes later, finding the older man and smiling. “Hi Mr. Cappelletty.” You whispered, not wanting to wake Rook up.

“Hey, darlin’. How’s he doing?”

You looked up at your boyfriend, a soft smile on your face as you took in his peaceful features. “He’s doing good, a little freaked out, I think, but he’s good.” The man nodded, and you continued. “They’re doing surgery on his hand tomorrow and then on his leg a few days from now.”

“Damn. Did he tell you what happened? All I got was a very vague text.”

You nodded, the smile falling. “I guess these guys jumped him while he was out and one of them got in a car and hit him.” Your breathing got heavy thinking about it and you could see Johnny’s eyes widen.

He took in a deep breath, processing what you told him. “Jesus, I just thought he’d got his ass kicked at some bar.”

“So did Colson.” You let out a short laugh, your heart not in it. Your hand moved up to run over his arm again. “He’s scared he’s not gonna be able to drum again.” You whispered, tears coming to your eyes as you took in Rook’s sleeping state. For the first time since you’d gotten the call you allowed your emotions to hit you fully, thoughts of how much worse it could’ve been and how scared he must’ve felt floating through your mind.

Johnny could hear the slight crack in your voice, and he walked over to where you were sitting, pulling you into his stomach. “He’ll be okay.” He whispered, “I raised a strong kid.”

You nodded, trying to hide your sniffles. “I know, I just- I can’t stop thinking about how much worse it could’ve been. If he-.” You bit your lip, not wanting to voice the thought out loud. “I can’t lose him.” Your voice was weak, and you weren’t even sure that the words came out.

Johnny pulled you closer, “I know, sweetheart. But you have to remember that he’s okay, it wasn’t worse.” You nodded. “You’re allowed to want him to stay inside for the next few months out of fear, that’s natural. You just gotta remember how lucky we are.”

You wiped your eyes gently, smiling up at the father of your soulmate. “Thank you.” You whispered.

He nodded, “He needs to remember how lucky he is to have you. There’re not many people who would stick around with him for 3 years. Not people like you.”

You smiled softly, looking at Rook with fondness in your eyes, “I’m lucky to have him, too.”

Johnny patted your shoulder, going back to where he was sitting. You grabbed a spare pillow from the table next to you and propped it on the bed , slightly on Rook’s lap. You laid your head on it, making sure Rook’s hand was in a comfortable position in your own, and drifted off to sleep.

[rantingwriter]

Accidentally in Love (Hawks x Civilian Reader) Finale

Trigger warning: strong language, long hospital stay, slight angst

A couple of months passed since that magical night out with Hawks. You noticed his visits after that became more and more infrequent. You weren’t too worried at first, he is a pro-hero he is naturally busy. Now...you just weren’t sure what to think. “Yo, [y/n], how long are you trying to make your scarf?” Hime catches your attention and you quickly realize you made a 7 foot long plaid scarf. 

“Oh, shit...uh…” you start to work in reverse to shorten the scarf back up to a more reasonable length. Today was knitting day, but you managed to convince Yumi (the recreation therapist) to let you use your quirk instead of the knitting needles. “Sorry, I was lost in thought.”

“No worries, but what’s got you spacing out like this?” Ayame asks, only making a potholder with her limited (but slowly improving) range of motion. 

“It’s-” you quickly check your surroundings before quietly continuing. “Hawks, he hasn’t been by in weeks…” 

“He is a top ten pro hero, from my understanding that means they are notoriously busy.” Ayame tries to reassure you, but you have been telling yourself that too much to believe it. “Do you have his number? Maybe you can call him.” 

“I do have his office number, but wouldn’t that be weird? What would I even say?” 

“Maybe, how’s it going? Just checking in? Hadn’t heard and wanted to see if you are alright?” Hime ticks off options on her fingers, she is doing some embroidery which is a bit easier to complete one handed. “Even just a text would probably help put your mind at ease.” 

You nod and finish your scarf up, folding it up onto the table for Yumi to come see. “Maybe after the group,” you continue to converse with the girls and Yumi praises your work when she gets to you. After the group wraps up, you go down to the hospital payphone, your cell is dead and you don’t have enough patience to wait for it to charge right now. You call the number Hawks gave to you. “Come on…” You hold your breath as it rings, your heart sinking when you get an answering machine. At the tone you do your damnedest to stop your voice from quivering with emotion. “Hey! It’s [y/n], I haven’t seen you around and I figured I would check in on you. I know you are probably busy, but...well...I guess I miss you.” You feel a lump form in your throat. “Just give me a call back or, uh, or a text, my number is…” you recite your cell phone number and tell him to have a good day before hanging up. You lean your forehead against the slightly warmed phone as it hangs from the receiver. Your heart is aching, “damn it, why am I so upset about this?” When your landlord kicked you out 4 weeks ago, you felt fine. You had a plan and your friends helped you out. You haven’t been making much progress since that first step, you weren’t upset, frustrated? A tad, but not the same level you got to in your first month here. Hawks ghosting you...just hit differently. You wheel your way back to your room, hoping he was waiting there, but alas it was empty. You set your scarf on the little table and get back in the familiar bed. You go against your better judgment and turn on the news, the silence in the room is just too much right now. 

“In other news, pro-hero Hawks has been reported missing after taking on the mission to hunt down the dangerous villain: Live Wire.” The news anchor continues to speak, but you can’t hear it. You drop the remote to the floor with a loud clatter. 

Fumi suddenly bursts into your room, “[Y/n]!” Your head slowly turns to meet her gaze, her voice barely registering. “Shit, I was afraid you would see that…” She quickly turns the TV off. “Word traveled fast, Mayu is a wreck and I heard you tried to call him.” 

You swallow dryly, “he can’t be missing, he just can’t be. Maybe he is laying low? Or the media is trying to throw them off the trail?” You were trying to think of any possible alternative, but Fumiko somberly shakes her head no. “He can’t be gone!” 

“[Y/n], I need you to calm down, take a deep breath for me.” She tries to reach out, but you swat her away. 

“There is no way! I refuse to believe it! I-I can’t believe it!!” Your voice is steadily rising in pitch, your breathing is growing too erratic for your own good. Your friend quickly calls for help and your room fills with nurses and a doctor. They have to administer a mild sedative to bring you down from your near hysteria levels of panic. It ends up knocking you out for a couple of hours, your friend returning to work with a note left on your table with the promise to return that night. When you come to, you feel numb, someone you have grown to hold quite dear is missing and you are powerless to do anything. A nurse comes in to check your vitals when your phone buzzes with a message from an unknown number. You wait for the nurse to finish up before checking to see if it was an automated message or scammer preying on the weak again. Shock overcomes you as you read the messages. 

Unknown: “Hey, it’s Hawks.” 

Unknown: “Don’t respond, I’m not keeping this phone or this number.” 

Unknown: “I hope you didn’t see that news report, but if you have, I’m okay.” 

Unknown: “This mission is going to be a long one so I won’t be able to stop by. I’m sorry if I caused you any concern, but I was told not to tell anyone about this mission.”

Unknown: “I’m going to trust you to keep this between us ;)” 

Unknown: “I promise to make up for my absence…”

Unknown: “When I return, I want to take you out on a date.” 

Unknown: “And yes I mean a date date, not some half assed play date or anything that’ll leave you wondering where things are going.” 

Tears pepper your phone screen, you felt so much relief and joy at just a few messages. Even if this was a sick, elaborate joke meant to make you think it was him, you held onto hope it was the genuine article. 

Unknown: “Just know that I haven’t forgotten about you. I miss you...and I know it is incredibly selfish of me to ask…”

Unknown: “Please, wait for me.” 

You nod as if he can see you, “I’ll wait, please just be safe.” You sob, your fingers clutching the scarf you made for him. 

Unknown: “I have to go now. I want you to focus on your recovery, don’t worry about me. I’ll see you as soon as I can.”

The last one was sent a few minutes ago, you bury your face in your knees and let it all out. Fumiko comes by like she promised and you have feign ignorance about his whereabouts. You do your best to follow his last request and focus on your recovery. He was working hard, so you would too. 

Two more months go by, no news of his whereabouts and no more secret messages either. Mayu hasn’t been herself since the announced disappearance, but she was powering through for her patients sake. You on the other hand have made great progress, you are finally walking. Actually walking! Granted you still need support to maintain balance, but you are able to move your legs again. You still utilize your wheelchair to get around the hospital, but you are doing your best not to rely on it too much now that you are regaining mobility. 

After a couple of weeks of steady improvement, they are talking about a possible discharge date. You aren’t sure how to feel, you are ready to be back out and about and get back to your life. Yet at the same time there is still so much to take care of that you can’t help but feel overwhelmed. Rika tries to help by apartment hunting in your stead, now that a release date is on the calendar, but you still need to ensure the job offer is still in place with Best Jeanist. 

Before you know it, you are walking without support and you are preparing to leave the hospital that has become your home for nearly a year. Hime and Ayame are so excited for you, both are still stuck for a little while longer, but you promised them to visit as often as possible. You thank all of your therapists, the ones who have been there the whole journey and the ones who only made occasional appearances. Your bags are packed, your prosthetic is in tip top shape, and your transport is all ready to go. Tomorrow, you are going home. You feel more melancholy than joy about the occasion. Part of you hoped Hawks would be back by now to see you off or at least hear some type of news on his whereabouts. You turn on the news right before bed, a new ritual just to see if there have been sightings or anything at this point. Expecting the same old news, you leave it on as background noise and busy yourself with something else.

Breaking news! Flashes across the screen and the news anchor fervently announces, “Hawks has finally returned after being off the grid for nearly 6 months. The villain known as Live Wire now confined to the maximum security prison of Tartarus!” You feel your heart swell, he is finally back! A loud ding of your phone alerts you to a new message. 

New number: “Come to the roof.” 

You quickly get in your wheelchair and wheel your way to the roof. You throw the door open and you feel your heart skip a beat. It’s him! It’s really him! He turns to face you as soon as he hears the metal door. His face is beaming, “Hey there kid.” The sound of his voice washes over you like a refreshing breeze on a hot day. “You look great, how are things going with treatment?” 

You smile brightly, rising up from your wheelchair, you make it look like you have simply mastered standing. When you start running towards him, his face quickly morphs to one of shock. You leap at him, throwing your arms around his neck as he effortlessly catches you. You can hear the smile in his voice as he shouts out, “Holy shit!” He tightens his hold around you. “Holy shit!!” He lets go of you and pushes you back to look at you, his hands still firmly on your shoulders. “You are walking! You-you are running!!” He is a sputtering, excited mess. 

“I actually leave tomorrow, I finally did it!” You cheer with him, lightly jumping as his wings puff up and expand outwards. 

“I’m so proud of you! I wish I could’ve been here to see you,” his wings start to droop, but you quickly gather him back up and just embrace him for a minute. 

“You are here now,” he returns the sentiment, burying his face into your shoulder. You both stay like that for a long time, relishing in the closeness and warmth. You finally break the silence, whispering in his ear. “So, still planning to take me out on a date?” 

His breath tickles your skin as he chuckles, “of course,” he leans back his arms still firmly around you. “I wanted to talk to you before this mission, but...shit happens.” He starts to caress your cheek, halting his efforts to tug the glove off with his teeth. His warm hand has a much more welcoming feeling than the rough texture of the glove. “I really like you, more than I’ve ever liked anyone. I know we had a rocky start and things haven’t been the easiest since we met, but…” He hesitates, unsure how to continue when you throw the scarf you made him around the back of his neck and yank him close enough to press your lips to his. He jerks back initially, it takes him a few seconds to register what just happened. When the lightbulb in his brain lights up, he grabs the side of your face and crashes his lips into yours. You can’t help but laugh at his actions, wrapping your arms around his neck to solidify the connection. You are first to break it to catch your breath. 

“I like you too, you goof.” You affectionately rub your nose against his and he rests his forehead against yours. 

“I’m glad, I was more scared of this conversation than I was facing that villain.” You both laugh as you step back to properly wrap the scarf around him. “What’s this?” 

“Something I made for you...think of it as a gift to cover the holidays I missed.” He smiles as he feels the material between his fingers. 

“Thank you,” he takes your hands in his and lightly swings from side to side. When this all started, you couldn’t see a future, you felt lost, alone, and just empty. Now, you’ve made new friends, you felt like you’ve regained control of your life, and now you have a boyfriend; bonus points! The fear of leaving the hospital felt so small now, you were ready to get back to living.

[nessinborderland]

The Devil Wears Dior (02)

Pairing: Niragi x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, The Devil Wears Prada inspired, Alternative Universe

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: Getting a job was supposed to make your life easier. But being the personal assistance of Niragi Suguru, the heir of a multimillion yen company, ends up making your life harder… in more ways than one.

Warnings: Developing Relationship, Boss/Employee Relationship, Enemies to Lovers, Niragi is not a murderer sociopath but is still a dick, Character Development, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mental Health Issues

Notes: Welcome!I'm on a roll guys, updating two fics in two days! lol Anyway, please be warned that this chapter references parental death and mental and physical damage due to an accident. Hope you enjoy! :)

AO3 Link        Masterlist

You sit at a park bench, not far away from KEI Enterprises. It’s a sunny day, despite the season, and the chill Autumn breeze feels nice against your skin. The park is mostly empty, with just a few joggers and people walking their dogs. You take the opportunity to close your eyes and focus on the sound of the birds and the wind; you need to relax after that interview. Your new signed contract sits on your lap, and you run your eyes over it by the tenth consecutive time. It’s almost lunchtime, but you don’t think you can stomach a meal. Your celebratory ice cream is enough for now.

You sigh, taking another spoonful of the way too expensive dessert; you guess you can afford it, now that you are employed. You still can’t quite believe it. You weren’t confident you would get the job, but you were willing to try your best. Whatever it took. And you had, miraculously, not only got a job but a high-paying one. You could cry from happiness. Sure, you wouldn’t be writing articles, but you couldn’t say no when the Niragi man showed you how much you would get paid. And to be a personal assistant, of all things. 

His personal assistant.

That fact had put you off a little, but the paycheck had convinced you. It also sounds like an easy enough job; organize his schedule, plan his meetings, accompany him to events, etc. You can do that. You’ll work your ass off as his assistant and then maybe ask for a writing position later on. You just have to prove to them that you can do this.

Your phone rings, startling you.

“So, how did it go?” a familiar voice asks as soon as you answer the phone.

“Usagi, good morning to you too,” you say. “It went great actually, I got- well, not the job, but a job.”

“That’s great!” your friend says in between panting noises. “But... what do you mean ‘not the job’?”

“Are you mountain climbing right now?” you ask with a raised brow.

“I might…” Usagi answers in a dismissive tone, “anyway, tell me more about that job.”

“That’s so dangerous but sure, let’s talk about me,” you roll your eyes. “I’m not talking to you until you have your feet on the ground.”

There’s a grunt and then some rustling noise. “Fine, I’m sitting down now,” your friend says. “Speak.”

You tell her everything that transpired that morning. By the end, Usagi is silent and you know your friend has something on her mind she’s unsure of sharing.

“Hmm, a penny for your thoughts?” you ask after another moment of silence.

“Don’t get me wrong, Y/N, I’m really happy you got a job, but–” she hesitates for a moment, “don’t you think it’s weird that that man chose you based on nothing?”

Of course you did. ‘Why?’ had crossed your mind several times. You shrug and say, “I guess, but it’s still good money,” you sigh. “You know I can’t allow myself to be picky. I was seriously thinking of going back to that cafe job if this one failed. You know that’s not what I want, especially after all the time I spent getting my degree.”

“I know, I know,” Usagi says. “Just be careful.” She pauses for a moment. “Do you still have that switchblade I gave you?”

“Oh my god, I am not carrying a knife around!” you exclaim with a laugh. “Or pepper spray,” you add before she can say more. “I’m not going to jail.”

“Fine, fine,” Usagi says with a huff, “just make sure you’re safe.”

“You know I will, rabbit.”

“So...” you’re glad she’s changing the subject. More talk about your new boss will only make you anxious. “Are you still up for our thing tomorrow?” She sounds unsure.

“Of course I am!” you say with a smile. “It’s your dad’s birthday and we’ve been doing this for years, how could I miss it?”

“Just wondering,” she hesitates, “thank you for being here for me, Y/N.”

“We’re here for each other,” you say. “You can come by the house if you want,” you offer. “I don’t like you being alone at this time of the year.”

“Nah, thank you... I’ll be fine.” You can hear the lie, but say nothing, “Well, it’s starting to rain. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” You exchange goodbyes and hang up.

Dark clouds approach, covering the previously blue sky.

You finish your ice cream and call a Uber home. You reflect on your decision as the vehicle takes you further away from Nishi-Shinjuku; things would actually get easier now. Life would be better. You don’t even have to care about riding the crowded subway anymore. The bills, your home, your family; you can now take care of everything. You can’t help but be proud of yourself.

You finally get to your destination. 

The place you call home is a small apartment on the ground floor of a two-story building. It’s old and it could use some renovations, but the rent is cheap and the neighbors are nice. The area is not the safest, but you like living there. You walk up the stairs to the front door, waving to the young boy playing ball in the tiny front garden.

You are immediately greeted by a meow as you open the door. A calico cat sits at the entrance, immediately getting closer to rub itself on your ankles.

“Hey, Mika baby,” you pet her between the ears and the cat purrs. “Did you take care of Papa while I was away?” you ask the animal as you take off your shoes. You let out a sound of relief as your feet touch the ground; damn heels. You’re only wearing flats from now on.

A sound from the kitchen snaps your attention. You walk the few steps that lead to the small room, immediately at your right. You open the door to find your upstairs neighbor, Himari, cooking what you identify as chicken curry. It’s mouthwatering, and your stomach growls at the smell of the delicious food.

“Himari?” you call her attention. She jumps slightly before turning to face you, hand on her large baby bump.

“Y/N, you’re back!” she greets you with a tired smile before turning back to the small stove, still talking to you, “Hope you don’t mind me using your kitchen, but Yukio found your Dad outside and I thought it would be better if we kept him company.”

Your eyes go wide. “Oh my god, Himari, thank you so much.” You lean against the threshold with a sigh. “The meds aren’t working as they should lately. He gets confused sometimes. Hope he wasn’t too much trouble?”

“Your father is the sweetest man, it was no trouble,” she says with a smile. “He’s in the living room watching cartoons with Hina. Go to him, I’ll be calling you all for lunch in half an hour or so.”

You thank her again and make your way to the small living room. There you find your dad, sitting in his wheelchair, as usual, cat on his lap. A little girl sits at his feet, eyes fixed on the cartoons playing on the old TV. 

“Hey Papa,” you greet him with a kiss on his cheek, “hey Hina.” The little girl says hi back, eyes still fixed on the cartoons, but your father says nothing. “Is everything okay, Papa?”

“Who are these people in our house, Naomi?” he asks in a whispered tone. Your heart breaks every time he says things like this. Recently, it’s like it happens every other day. One moment he’s sharp as a knife, the other he can’t even recognize his own daughter. Sometimes he doesn’t know who you are, but other times he thinks you’re your mother. The last one hurts the most. 

“They’re our upstairs neighbors,” you force a smile. “Don’t worry, they’re very nice people. Himari is even making us lunch.”

Your father nods with a smile. “Oh, that’s nice of her.” Then he says, “Where’s Y/N? Is she still in her room? She should come out more often, play with other kids.”

“She’s still in school,” you say with a pat on his shoulder, “she can play with them when she comes back.” You ask how his morning was, to which he gives an exciting answer about trying to walk outside with crutches. You lightly chastise him for it, then ask, “Did your leg give you any phantom pain today?”

He shakes his head, tapping his left leg, “Nah, it’s been fine. You would expect that not having your leg would stop it from hurting though,” he says with a chuckle. “But I will live.”

You smile. “Would you like to see the Travel Book while we wait for lunch?” The Travel Book is what you call your dad’s photo album; it’s full of articles and pictures from when he was a traveling journalist. It usually helps him remember things; remember you. After the accident that took his leg and gave him irreversible brain damage, the Travel Book is what brings him closer to his former self.

You retrieve the thick book from a nearby shelf, and he immediately opens it on his lap, disturbing the cat. 

You sit on the small couch next to his chair and listen. Your Dad goes page after page, telling stories related to the pictures or the articles. You know every story by heart by now, but you still love to listen to them like it’s the first time. He goes on and on about his travel experiences until he suddenly pauses, eyes locked on you.

“Y/N, when is your mother coming back?”

You try your best to smile while controlling your tears. “I don’t know, Papa,” you say, “but soon, I’m sure.”

He nods once, and there’s silence. Your father oscillates between moments of clarity, but one thing never changes; he never seems to remember what happened to your mother. A minute goes by before he focuses his attention on the little girl at his feet, now fully knowing who she is.

You sit there, hearing him gush with Hina about a particular episode of Doraemon. You did the right thing; you need that job. Now you will be able to afford your dad better treatment and a better apartment. Maybe even a nurse. Leaving him alone makes you nervous, especially lately, so you better start considering it. Himari won’t be always available to help, especially now with a third baby on the way. 

The woman in question comes to announce that the meal is ready. You set the small table in the corner and eat together. It feels nice to have a meal with someone resembling family; you have known Himari and her kids for only a little over a year, but they sure feel like family to you. You’re halfway through the meal when you decide it’s time to give the good news.

“So, I have something to tell you…” you make a dramatic pause. “I got a job!”

“Aha, I told you you could do it!” exclaims your dad with a tap on the table. “I knew my daughter could find a journalism job anywhere.”

“That’s great, Y/N,” says Himari with a smile, “Yukio, stop bugging your sister- Where are you going to be working?”

You give an awkward laugh. “Well actually, this job has nothing to do with journalism,” you say as you take another spoonful of curry. You take your time chewing, before announcing, “I’m actually going to be working as a personal assistant for Niragi Suguru of KEI Enterprises. He’s this–”

Himari gasps. “The Niragi Suguru?!” she asks, eyes wide.

“You know him?” you ask with a raised brow.

“Well yeah, everybody does!” she stands up and wobbles out of the room, returning with a magazine. “So, you know I love my gossip magazines... please don’t judge.” She opens the magazine on a specific page. “He’s the most eligible bachelor in Japan right now. There are articles about him almost every week.”

NIRAGI SUGURU AND FRENCH MODEL GABRIELLE ARGENT TOGETHER?

You read the obnoxious headline, swiftly passing your eyes over the photo and article below. The picture shows the Niragi man at what you guess is a club, a blond woman sitting on his lap while the two seemingly make out. The article goes more in-depth on how the couple met at the Paris Fashion Show, close sources confirming that the two have been together on several occasions.

“Of course the articles don’t actually mean anything,” Himari shrugs, “only last week he was supposedly dating a Hollywood actress.” Great, you think to yourself; you’ll be working for an assumed womanizer. You just hope your job doesn’t include handling NDA’s or getting him a motel room at three in the morning. 

“Y/N… are you sure this is the job for you?” asks your dad in a concerned tone. “You can always find something else.”

You shake your head, “Believe me, Papa, I won’t be able to find a job this good so soon.” His expression doesn’t change when you specify how much you’re going to get paid. “This job is exactly what we need.”

He sighs. “Just know that you can always quit if you need.” He smiles, “I’m proud of you, sweetheart.”

The rest of the day goes by in a flash. It’s only Friday, and you’re supposed to start your new job on Monday, seven A.M sharp. Now that you don’t have to worry about finding a job anymore, you can take these few days to relax. Plenty of time to think about how you’re going to organize your life.

You’re now in your small bedroom, an old laptop on your lap as you do the research you were supposed to have done the day before. You want to get your hands on every piece of information you can find on the Niragi family and their business. You go down a rabbit hole of Wikipedia articles, magazine interviews, youtube videos; everything you can find on them.

Niragi Keiko started as a model in the late seventies. She’s a beautiful woman even now, but the pictures of her as a young adult remind you of a goddess. She later married rich and founded KEI Magazine with the money she got after her husband, Niragi Haro, died not long after their son’s birth. After that, she came to found all the departments that today formed KEI Enterprises. She’s indeed one of the richest women in Asia.

What you find about her son doesn’t stray far away from what Himari told you. The man is a gold mine for the gossip magazines; secret affairs, pregnancy scandals (apparently fake), fights at clubs, rumors of illegal activities (also apparently not true). There are articles upon articles on him.   

What have you got yourself into?

What’s done is done, you think to yourself. It can’t be that bad anyway.

Yes it can, says a tiny voice in the back of your mind. 

You remember the moment you left the office, contract in hand, and Mira had asked you why you were called. You had told her about the job and her eyes widened before she visibly cringed. There was a noticeable look of pity in her eyes when she gave you her congratulations, a tight smile on her lips. You had brushed that aside; she just wasn’t pleased you got a job when she didn’t think you were suited for the position. That’s what you told yourself then.

Now you’re not so sure.

You decide to go to bed; you have a mountain to climb the next day, after all. No way you will be late for your best friend’s father's birthday. Not when she needs you so much this time of the year. 

You get yourself ready for bed and check on your dad one last time, making a mental list of things for tomorrow. Then you get in bed, cat rolled up against your back, and sleep.

You are suddenly awake by your phone ringing. You groggily rub your eyes and check the screen; an unknown number. It’s three A.M, and you can’t possibly imagine who is calling you at such a late hour. You click the red button and turn around; it was probably a call made by mistake.

The phone rings again.

You make a frustrated sound and pick up the phone, putting it against your ear.

“Yes?” you say with a yawn.

“Finally!” exclaims a male voice you don’t recognize. It does sound familiar though, “Why the fuck haven’t you answer my calls uhh? You have to answer my calls….”

“Excuse me?” you ask in a confused tone. You turn on your bedside lamp and try to focus on the person talking. “Who is this?”

“What do you mean who is this… who am I?” his speech sounds slurred, and the background noise gets louder. “Shut up you fucking drunk!” says the man, and the noise stops. “I’m your boss, who- who was I supposed to be? I’m your boss...”

Your eyes widen, "Mr. Niragi?" you ask, almost not believing it. "It's- it's three A.M and–"

“I didn’t call you to ask about the time,” he cuts you off. Someone laughs in the background. There is some shuffling and a grunt of pain before he proceeds, “I need you to-... to call my lawyer. Call my lawyer and he will know what to do, yes. You- you need to come get me at the Kabuki district police station, alright?”

“Right now?!”

“Yes right now!” he sounds annoyed and clearly drunk. “Aren’t you supposed to be my personal assistant?” he chuckles, “Then assist me.” The call ends before you can say anything else.

You stay frozen in place, replaying his words in your head. You’re still half asleep, but you’re pretty sure he just ordered you to go bail him out of jail. You weigh your choices. It’s not like you have a choice though; you either do what he told you or you bet you can forget about showing up on Monday.

You’re out of the house five minutes later, waiting for your Uber to show up. You then realize something; you have no idea who Niragi Suguru’s lawyer is. Or which police station he’s in; there are several in Kabuki district.

Your ride finally arrives and you take that time to research for his attorney. There are so many tied to his company and his name that you can’t find them, so you decide you’ll ask him when you get there. The situation for the police station isn’t much different; there are so many police posts in the entertainment and red-light district of Shinjuku, you don’t even know where to start looking.

It takes more than half an hour of you driving around different police stations to find him. You’re tired, cold and so anxious that you almost feel sick. But you finally find him. He catches your eye as soon as you enter the building. Niragi sits in the corner of the police station, eyes closed as he leans back against a wall. The door closes behind you with a click and his eyes open to lock on you. A smirk grows on his face.

“Here she is, ladies and gentlemen,” he says while struggling to stand up. “Late, but I knew I could make her come.”

You wonder for the third time that day if he talks like that on purpose. 

Nah, it’s probably just a coincidence.

Next Chapter

[footballffbarbiex]

ok but what if i dropped the first chapter of a Marco Rose fic tonight....? Below is a teaser in case you do.

it’s probably boring af an noone will want it but yeah

_

Summary: During his first week in Dortmund, Marco expected to be settling into his new surroundings, getting to know the staff and players and building himself a life within the city. Dating had not on the cards for him but what should have been one trip to the hardware store, Marco finds himself wondering if the home he's creating is the only thing needing a little TLC. Manager: Marco Rose. Words: 1734 No warnings as of yet for this chapter but series chapters will include age gap relationship (she is of age and in her 20s minimum though is not specified), smutty smut, maybe some angst, maybe some smangst, hopefully a happy ending because it's me.

This was the most voted for series wanted on Patreon, so please let me know what you think. Every series has to start somewhere and softly so forgive me if this is a lil slow burn, but I hope you enjoy their first meeting.

-

Humming along to the music from the ceiling speakers, your fingers trail along the racks and rails as you once again pretend to scan each one for anything out of place.

“Look busy if there are no customers,” is always easier said than done, especially when the store has been more empty than busy today. There’d been a small flow of customers over the past 2 hours but no more than 10 and already the store has been re-faced, everything pulled back to the front and looking as welcoming as a hardware store can.

Your manager sits in the cash office, writing up the new signs and working on whatever it is that keeps them from gracing you with their presence throughout the shift but you’d rather him sit in there than be out here encouraging you to try and look more busy by thrusting a mop bucket into your hand and telling you to smile. Your other co-workers are off hiding in their respective departments, kitchens, bathrooms and up by paint and you’ve been forced to remain by the counter.

So when the small chiming sounds as the motion detector on the door kicks into action as the doors part, your attention is automatically drawn to the new arrival. Tall and dressed in dark jeans and a light grey sweater, he falters as he stands just in the entrance looking, if you’re being honest, lost. He stuffs his hands into his pocket and steps forward as he glances around, dark eyes looking up at the aisle signs until you see him mentally just give up and begin to walk up the first aisle.

With him being the only customer within the store, it was easy to spot his salt and pepper hair from the others here as he makes his way along, though still looks equally stumped as to where to start. By the time he’s made his way back to the start, you’re pretending to be doing something at the till and as though you haven’t been lurking, watching him like Joe in YOU.

[coco96]

LDAF - TS Parental/Familial

TONY STARK - PARENTAL

On The Off Chance (Tony Stark X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Mention of spitting in a drink and some threats of violence, and mention of violence Request: Tony stark parental figure with “i know you’re joking but on the off chance you aren’t, no”

Arranged Plans Cancelled (Peter Parker X Fem!Stark!Reader) Warnings: Bad friends Request: Stark!Reader is often hurt by others, like people will arrange plans + blow her off/friends will make plans in front of her + not invite her. people will get her to do their homework for them bc they know she can’t say no. Peter Parker thinks its really unfair but she handles it really well + doesn’t make a fuss. one day Steve/Tony/someone accidentally upsets her (maybe they cancel plans she’s been really looking forward to or something) and Peter just loses it. she’s really shocked that he noticed and he’s standing up for her. She goes to Midtown too …

Homework Struggles (Tony Stark X Fem!Teen!Reader) Request: What about a reader x father figure tony where the reader is really struggling in school and feels like she’s failing him but instead of being upset he just helps them out and discovers they have adhd and gets them the help they need?

Accidentally Coming Out (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Accidentally coming out, fear of homophobia Request: … reader accidentally makes a comment about being gay and panics bc she’s not out to him yet? And she tries to run away but someone catches her and brings her home?

Taking the Lead (Tony Stark X Son!Reader) Warnings: Spoilers to Infinity War and Endgame, death Requests: … the one who survives in infinity turns to dust and the one did is alive. the reader didn’t urn to dust and he missed his father, even throught they don’t have nice relationship. he learns that he has a sister and he helped to take care of them as he is like a father figure to Morgan. when endgame happened, the reader do the snap. it like the reader do the snap instead of tony

More Like Pepper (Tony Stark X Teenage!Reader) Request: Could I request a fic where the reader is Tony’s kid but lowkey has no time for the teams shit and is savage?

Hiding Hickies (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Hickies/bruises Request: Would you be open to writing a tony x daughter reader where the daughter goes out with a boy for the first time and has to hide hickies? And tony finds out and she’s expecting him to freak out but he just accepts it and is really chill about it?

Metallic Limbs (Peter Parker X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Mention of injury and loss of limbs, mention of surgery Request: … Reader is a quadruple amputee after the Chitauri attack in Manhattan. Tony, As the one who found her in the rubble, feels inclined to watch over her and help her in any way he can. So he has her fitted with state of the art cybernetic limbs. Years later, reader is coming to the avengers HQ to get a tune up and she meets the friendly neighbourhood sideman without the mask. Tony is unsure if he’s okay with them being so chummy together.

Never There (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Absent father, swearing, threatening Request: ... reader has been under Tony’s financial care since she was a child but he never saw her as his child and saw no need to spend time with her until after the Ultron situation. But with all the years or ignorance, is the damage already done?

Science Fair (Tony Stark X Son!Reader) Warnings: Mention of neglectful parent Request: Son male reader x tony stark where tony wants to be better of a parent than Howard to male reader

Bitten (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Blood, near death Request: One more please if available. Tony stark and daughter were she gets bitten by a vampire and tony and team are extremly worried and strange is the only one that can save her? Fluff and angst. Pepper is her mom.

Left Behind (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Mention of death of a parent, a wittle bit of swearing Request: … Tony wants to adopt a kid and he choiced the reader. But the reader is actually Tony’s child by blood m, but he doesn’t know that. and she knows that she is relateted and hates Tony for ‘leaving’ her. …

Looking for Advice (Tony Stark X Son!Reader) Request: Could you maybe do a tony stark x son male reader where the male reader ask for advise to ask a girl out

Dentist Appointment (Tony X Daughter!Reader) Request: Could you write one where the reader needs to have oral surgery to remove some problem teeth but she’s petrified to make the call. But she’s in tears all nigh from the pain? Her dad Tony stark, makes the call behind her back cause he hates seeing her in pain. When they arrive at the hospital she nearly freaks out saying he betrayed her so he hugs her and says it will be ok; but when he did that he also got her in the neck with a sedative to knock her out to make it easier on everyone? Lol

Session (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) TRIGGER WARNING: SELF HARM AND DEPRESSION Request: … reader is Tony’s daughter and has a history with self harming so he sends her to therapy for depression. Tony went to intro session with y/n and she says that she doesnt cut anymore and still maintains the lie and then Tony begins to notice all of the signs that point to her self harming and realises she never actually stopped? If thats okay? If not, i understand?

Dip (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Depression, self-doubt Request: Tony stark x daughter reader where her grades slip bad because of depression and she panics but Tony’s there for her and makes sure she knows it’s okay to fail?

Helping (Avengers X Teen!Reader) Warnings: Bulimia, throwing up, bullying, self conscious reader. Request: I was wondering if you would write one where the reader is Tony’s daughter (although all of them are protective of her) and she has bulimia and she gets caught purging by one of the team members.

Feeling Loved Again (Father!Tony X Teen!Reader) Warnings: Swearing Request:I had an idea. Where the reader is Tony Starks daughter (15-16 yr old) but she lives with her mom. She’s kind of tomboyish and dyes her hair funky colors so her mom gets sick of it and drops her off at the tower unexpectedly and tells tony she’s his problem now. So he gladly signs the custody papers. He totally adores her and celebrates her first night with him with take out and movies with the whole team.

Parker! (Peter Parker X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Bit of bullying, angry over protective dad. Request: Tony Stark’s daughter is popular and in a band and at a concert, Peter is getting picked on for being alone so Reader goes and kisses him and hugs him, surprising everyone with their secret relationship, much to Tony’s disapproval.

Five Days (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) SERIOUS WARNING: EATING DISORDER Other Warnings: Bullying/ teasing Request: Hey love! I was wondering if you could write something along the lines of where the reader has been in recovery from an eating disorder and then has a hard relapse? Maybe with a platonic or father Tony Stark?

It’ll Work Out (Stony X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Spoilers of Civil War, emotions Request: Hey can you do one where reader is stonys daughter and it’s just about how the family is torn apart lots of angst ends in fluff

New Environment (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Mentions of bad background and illegal activities. Request: Do you think you can do a roleplay where tonys daughter doesn’t come from the same background as him and maybe is coming from the ‘ghetto where she lived with her mom and she’s trying to act tough and stuff buts she’s actually really scared? …

Helping (Avengers X Teen!Reader) Warnings: Bulimia, throwing up, bullying, self conscious reader. Request: I was wondering if you would write one where the reader is Tony’s daughter (although all of them are protective of her) and she has bulimia and she gets caught purging by one of the team members.

Sit Down (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Injury Request: … reader sprains her ankle and still tries to do loads of things and won’t let it heal because she’s stubborn af and tony gets all protective? …

Fight Me (Peter Parker X Fem!Reader, Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Threatening (not serious) Request: Hey can I get a Tony x daughter reader where she’s always says fight me like someone says “I Was sitting there” and she says fight me ect. Anyway lots of fluff a little Peter x reader too- Og I forgot Tony x daughter reader fight me she like pure™ thanks😘

To Make You Happy (Tony X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Hints of depression Request: … She’s been depressed and going through a rough time. So to cheer her up her dad gets her a kitten even though he isn’t fond of animals. He knew she always wanted one. And she does start to cheer up and they share a dad daughter fluffy moment.

My Daughter (Tony X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Mention of death of a parent Request: … Tony has a teenage daughter he didn’t know about but the mom dies, so he takes custody and introduces her around and just overall becomes a dad of a teenager? (You don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable)

Supporting Dad (Tony Stark X Reader) Request: Could you do reader being Tony’s kid and they’re as smart as him and decide to go into music instead of inventing? Like with Tony being the super proud band parent at every concert or somth about him being supportive

Caring Father (Tony X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Self Conscious reader, protective father, verbal abuse, body shaming Request: … reader who is on the phone with their mom and Tony (their bf, or dad, you choose!), being the overprotective dad/bf he is, has been noticing that the reader has been skipping meals. Like, the reader would only eat around lunchtime, and sometimes dinner, but thats it. He overhears her mom chastising her about how the reader needs to lose weight, ect. Can it be really fluffy?

Delirious (Tony X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Sickness Request: Tony stark x daughter request? Where she’s sick with a really high fever and completely delirious and keeps saying crazy shit. As concerned as tony is he can’t help not to laugh at some of her antics so he takes video. When she’s better he shows her the video and they both share a laugh over it.

Bookworms (Loki X Fem!Reader) Request: Hey could I request one where the reader is Tony’s daughter and she does a bunch of reading with Loki, but finds out he hasn’t read Harry Potter, freaks, and makes him read all of them?

Your Daughter (Tony X Daughter!Reader)     |     Part 2 Warnings: Minor Spoilers of Civil War Request: ... reader is Tony’s teenage daughter and he doesn’t know about her and during the airport scene in Civil war this teenage girl arrives in an iron man suit and stops the fight and Tony’s like who are you and then she’s replies with “your daughter” ...

Telling Him (Peter Parker X Male!Reader) Warnings: Mentions of coming out and past murder Request: ... reader is Tony’s son (probably an adoption situation?) and is closeted gay… maybe after Peter is already a part of the avengers, and not during Civil War? ...

I’m Here Now (Tony X Daughter!Reader)     |     Part 2 Warnings: Mention of car crash, death, injury Request: ... Her and her mom got into a bad accident. The mom dies and reader needs a blood transfusion so when the drs test her they match her to Stark. He gets the call and rushes over. Realizing he’s a dad to a teenage girl now he has the team ready a room and he welcomes her into his heart and makes her feel extra special since she lost her mom.

Who Is It? (Tony X Daughter!Reader)     |     Part 2 Request: ... Tonys daughter is sitting in the living room being like ‘hey I hacked into your system 'cause I’m your super smart daughter and have no where else to go’ and Tony starts to get really protectiv over her. And then finds out that she is falling in love with Peter, but Tony is basically the last one to find out? ...

Missing My Voice (Tony X Fem!Reader, Peter x Fem!Reader)     |     Part 2 Warnings: Blood, surgery, needles, injury Request: ... reader loves to sing and play the guitar and a ton of other instruments but goes mute during a mission (due to an injury), and how it impacts Peter and Tony? And can Tony like, go to a ton of doctors and stuff to try and find a solution? ...

Sit Down (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Injury Request: ... reader sprains her ankle and still tries to do loads of things and won’t let it heal because she’s stubborn af and tony gets all protective? ...

Being Tony Stark’s Adopted Daughter Would Include…

Be Careful (Tony X Daughter!Reader, Peter X Fem!Reader)     |     Part 2 Warnings: Blood, getting shot Request: ... reader is Tony’s teenage daughter who’s dating Peter and she’s just the type of person everyone loves but she’s also a really good hacker and fighter so she does missions sometimes and she ends up getting shot? ...

Caring Father (Tony X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Self Conscious reader, protective father, verbal abuse, body shaming Request: ... reader who is on the phone with their mom and Tony ... has been noticing that the reader has been skipping meals. Like, the reader would only eat around lunchtime, and sometimes dinner, but thats it. He overhears her mom chastising her about how the reader needs to lose weight, ect. ...

Approving (Peter Parker X Reader, Tony X Daughter!Reader) Request: ... Tony says to his daughter that he doesn’t like the idea of them dating but behind her back he’s talking to the Avengers about how happy he is that his daughter found a good guy. ...

Warning Signs (Tony and Peter X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Mentions of Domestic abuse Request: ... reader goes to peter Parkers school and she also started interning at the avengers tower as a lab assistant? She gets along with the team and considers them family. She ends up not showing up at school or the tower for a few days so Peter goes to her house to check on her and finds out she’s being abused by her parents. ...

Parental Advice (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader)     |     Part 2 Warnings: Teasing Request: ... Tony goes on with his life as an Avenger and all and it’s getting harder on him ... Meanwhile, you’re struggling with your social life ... you become pretty lonely and your favorite place is the tower with the avengers ... Finally, one morning, you and Tony are both up early(like, 4 am) and you talk to each other about your troubles. ...

Being Pepper’s Adopted Daughter and Tony Adopting You Would Include…

---

TONY STARK - FAMILIAL

A Little Dense (Tony Stark X Sister!Reader, Clint Barton X Fem!Reader) Warnings: A bit of swearing Request: Clint and tony’s sister. You are trying to tell him that Clints gonna be a dad and tony is gonna be a uncle? The rest of the team finds out at the end. Some cute and fluff.

Meeting Her Husband (Loki X Stark!Reader) Warnings: Pregnancy Request: Tony and sister reader: he and the team discover you are in a secret relationship with Loki and you both are happily married and you are a few months pregnant with loki’s baby and he is not happy about it.

A Little Talk (Tony Stark X Brother!Reader)     |     Part 2 Warnings: Swearing, alcoholism Request: one with Tony as your big brother and you’re both going through a hard time or something?

Unfinished Business (Tony X Brother!Reader) Warnings: Death, death of parents, presumed death, a lot of emotions coming your way Request: … Reader is Tony Starks brother who, at a young age, runaway and now is coming back at Tony? But like Reader has some sort of a supernatural power like seeing ppl? …

I Still Love You (Bucky Barnes X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Spoilers of Civil War Request: With the stark reader and Bucky one, can you do where he blames himself for the death of readers and Tony’s parents, but she still loves him, even though Tony doesn’t allow it. Eventually Tony and reader have a heart to heart and gives her his blessing. Bucky puts aside his guilt?

Passing The Test. (Pietro X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Death threats, unplanned pregnancy, minor violence. Request: … reader being Tony´s sister. She dates Pietro for a long time and gets pregnant, and the avengers find out (exept tony) and their reaction, and at the end Tony realize because of her tummy and wants to kill pietro but at the end he is proud …

Better Choice (Tony Stark X Cousin!Reader, Peter Parker X Reader) Warnings: One swears and mentions of bed relationships and breakups Request: The reader is Tonys younger cousin (teenager) and she starts falling for Peter and tony just pets it happen because he’s better than any boyfriend the reader has had before

Where’s Nat? (Avengers X Teen!Reader) Warnings: Blood. Looooots of blood. Request: teen reader has period and goes to avengers for help but Nat isn’t home – Tony is her uncle!

Overprotective much? (Avengers X Fem!Reader) Warnings: One swear word, threatening, flirting, drinking and attempted murder by an overprotective brother. Request: ... reader is Tony´s sister and she is really beautiful (thats why Tony won´t introduce her) and the avengers are surprised and start bothering Tony and he gots really jealous and protective ...

[sooibian]

Twist of Fate

image credits: @/exoxoxoid (twitter)

Pairing: Criminal Psychologist Kyungsoo x Crime Reporter OC (Miss Jung) ft. Minseok, Jongin

Description: Much against your wishes, you are back in your hometown to write about the murders of two young women - your only ticket out is the criminal psychologist who has been assisting Superintendent Kim Minseok with offender profiling.

Inspired by: Sharp Objects, The Fall and this moodboard by @is-that-baekhyuns-shirt​ 

Tags/Warnings: Serial killer AU - angst, grief, loss, murders, descriptions of anxiety, reactive and attentive immobility, asphyxiation, indicative of humiliation, explicit and graphic situations. Please do not read onward if any of this triggers or upsets you!!!!

Word count: +3.7k

A/N: ...i need to stop watching crime dramas. 

@leewalberg​ @his-mochi-cheeks​ @changshapatrol​ 

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

When you left Cheongsong, you’d left for good. Or so you’d thought.

Ten years later what brought you back was not your family, for you had none left, but the murders of two young women that had left the quaint little town, surrounded by hills artistically contoured by apple orchards, shaken and distraught.

Everyone knew each other in Cheongsong which should have made Superintendent Kim Minseok’s job easier, but he was caught in an ugly snare of emotions which seemed to have clouded his critical thinking faculties. These were people he knew closely, people he’d grown up with. For him, pointing fingers at any of them meant carving permanent cracks in relationships that were stronger than most familial ties.

“Off the record, then”, you shoved your scratchpad back into your purse, turned off the recorder with a click and looked at Minseok square in the eyes, only to find the amiable, portly, catlike footballer you went to school with hidden in their farthest, darkest depths - reduced to a mere whimsy. The memories of the man who sat before you, now seemed abysmally distorted by the colossal burden of the unknown.

“It never is.” He chuckled darkly, took a measured sip of his bourbon and rolled it around his tongue before swallowing. “Never thought I’d see you here again.”

“That makes two of us. Write about killings in your hometown...it makes an impact because it’s personal, my boss says. We’re to...exploit the fact that nobody substantial is covering this.” You recited, eyes trained on the sliver of grime on the coaster.

Minseok clicked his tongue in disapproval and enquired, “Where have you been staying?” 

“A guest house by the Country Club.”

“So, not the Mansion”, he remarked callously.

Wounds that had barely healed came undone at the mention of your family home. Your throat tightened and you felt as if you had been shanked with a broken bottle in the stomach. The ill fated house reeked of misfortune, grief and loss. Its inhabitants had fallen one by one like lined up dominoes. This curse had forced you out to start a new life in Seoul.

“It’s still quite well kept, you know.” Minseok stated matter-of-factly.

Taking a deep swig of your bourbon, you explained earnestly as the burn of the liquid blazed down your throat, “Minseok, I want nothing more than to get out of here. So, please, give me something. A nugget.” 

“I don’t want to be quoted on this. Or misquoted. This is all new to me as well. Two bodies in three months? Can you imagine?” Overcome with emotion, he ran a hand through his hair and squeezed his eyes shut.

You put a comforting hand on his and offered in a voice laced with empathy, “Listen, from where I stand, all you need is a new line of inquiry and linking these two murders would give you one. I’ve seen the pictures.” 

You swiped through images of two dark haired women on your phone - Park Soojin and Seo Jinri. Both of them were in their late twenties. They lay in their own beds as if soundly asleep, modesty protected only by sheer white blankets, crimson tinted lips parted ever so slightly, freshly painted nails shining in dim lighting. And roses. There were a couple of red roses placed by their side as if in condolence. The blood curdling strangulation marks around their necks made them look like dreadfully divine paintings. 

“They could be sisters”, you observed with moist eyes, voice hushed to a whisper.

Contemplating on the images with pursed lips, Minseok responded with a tight nod and waved a 50,000 bill in the waitress’ general direction.

“Where’d you find these?” He asked in a threateningly calm voice, averting his eyes from your apparently disagreeable gaze.

“You know that’s confidential”, you replied, half-shrugging, nonchalant.

“I’ll drop you home”, he muttered, and shoved his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. 

With a defeated sigh you grabbed your purse and phone and proceeded to follow Minseok out of the only bar in Cheongsong, “No, it’s fine. I could use a walk.”

Suddenly, he turned around, searched your eyes for a fleeting second before admitting begrudgingly, “Kim Jongin. He’s the prime suspect in the first case. The murder of Park Soojin.”  

Your legs froze. “What?! Why?”

You knew Kim Jongin, like you knew everyone else in this town. His family owned one of the biggest apple orchards in Cheongsong but Kim Jongin never manifested that in his behaviour. He was known to be friendly, kind, sensitive. Almost too sensitive some would say.

“That’s it. That’s your nugget. Here.” He handed you a business card bearing the name ‘Dr. Doh Kyungsoo’. “He’s been informally assisting with offender profiling. He’ll talk to you. Seems like he’ll talk to anyone, really. Now get in the car, it’s freezing out here.” 

.

.

.

“Dr. Doh, thank you for taking the time to meet with me.”

Dr. Doh Kyungsoo’s home office was a detached unit with a separate entrance, distanced from his main residence. It was exactly the way you’d imagined a psychologist’s office to be - light coloured walls, comfortable chairs, soft pillows, insipid artwork. Neat and clean, fostering a sense of comfort for visitors. 

The Doh family had moved into Cheongsong shortly after you’d left for Seoul. Coming from old money in search of some peace and quiet, they invested in agricultural distribution, Cheongyang Pepper farms and assumed one of the more significant estates to live in while their only son, Doh Kyungsoo, was sent abroad to pursue higher education.   

“Please, call me Kyungsoo.” He took your hand in his, gave it a good, firm shake and gestured you to take the chair opposite his.

“I think ‘Dr. Doh’ should be fine”, you stated plainly and he acknowledged with a curt nod.

“What brings you here?” Asked Kyungsoo, holding your gaze, hands folded in his lap as he leaned back into his chair with a soft sigh. 

Grimacing, you waved your recorder at him, “They say you’re my ticket out of this godforsaken place.”

Minseok had helped you set up the meeting so you thought it proper to waive cumbersome introductions and niceties and Kyungsoo seemed very much in sync with your line of thought. 

He smiled, “I’m merely a bystander, Miss Jung, with slightly more informed opinions, maybe.”

“Informed opinions are what I’m here for, Dr. Doh.” You smiled back, “Superintendent Kim Minseok doesn’t seem to like you very much.”

“He’s a man shackled by bureaucracy and I’m a constant reminder of his team’s staggering incompetence, If I were him, I wouldn’t like me very much either.”

“Do you think there’s a link between the two murders?” 

He nods. “I’m fairly certain there is.” 

“But the police won’t look into it? Why is that?”

“Nobody likes a serial, Miss Jung. Besides, there’s no way the team could cope with the increased workload of linked inquiries. There are over a hundred statements, documents, officers’ reports waiting to be read and actioned. And the case of Park Soojin is a peculiar one.”

“Kim Jongin’s girlfriend? How so?”

“She was the ex-wife of a member of the parliament. This case does absolutely no favours to his image so he needs it solved immediately.” 

The word solved was treated to air quotes.

“So, they’ve ruled him out as a suspect?”

“His alibi checks out. They suspect Kim Jongin.”

“Why? Just because Kim Jongin fled immediately after her body was found? How did the police react to that?”

“Because Jongin fled, his brother was asked to provide DNA which turned out to be a familial match to the DNA gathered at the crime scene. But that does not necessarily mean it’s the killer’s DNA. Miss Park was in a relationship with him. There’s no surprise his semen was found in her esophagus.”

“Do you rule him out as a suspect then?”

“I prefer to reserve my comment.”

“Why do you think he fled?”

“Grief drives us to do irrational things, Miss Jung. Maybe he just needed a breather from everything that was going on here. Can’t say for sure.”

“You’re certain the perpetrator is male?”

“Yes, I am. The perpetrator is male and an athletic one at that. Probably in his late twenties or early thirties. While the strangulation marks may be different, the pathologists reports suggest petechial haemorrhage in both cases which means he strangled and released and then strangled again, over and over. He’s either a sadist, or his hand lacks strength. You try it, grab my wrist.”

He extended his arm towards you and you politely declined. So he wrapped his right hand over his left wrist and held firmly for a few moments. 

“Forty seconds. It’s amazing how quickly the hand tires!” He exclaimed as if awestruck. It was the maximum emotion the inscrutable Dr. Doh had displayed during the course of this interview.

“Victims of strangulation are known to make a mess of themselves. They defecate and / or urinate..”

“That is correct. The bodies were both found posed and clean. Which means he spent hours after, washing them and cleaning the sheets, even. There could be a religious angle to this. Washing away their sins...maybe his own, considering he probably gets into the bath with them.”

He pushed a cup of long gone cold tea towards you, but you shook your head. As a crime reporter, you thought you’d seen it all but the possibility of this being the work of a serial killer was a first for you. Also the fact that it was happening in the place you grew up in was starting to gnaw at you a little more aggressively than you’d liked. 

“I’m not going to lie, Dr. Doh, this gives me pause for concern. Do you think there is a sexual angle to these killings? As far as I know, the victims have shown no signs of any such abuse.”

Kyungsoo sipped on his tea and worried at his lower lip briefly before responding. “I believe he’s the kind to take pictures, momentos from the scene. They sustain him between killings.”

“And the roses? There were..”

“Three next to Park Soojin’s corpse and two next to Seo Jinri’s.”

“Does it indicate -”

“- a countdown? Perhaps.” He studied your face intently and offered you tea again. This time you complied and then proceeded with the interview.

“There was no sign of forced entry in either cases. The police think the perpetrator was known to the victims.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. You see, Miss Jung, the problem is that these cases were treated as self solvers from the get go and that’s where it all went wrong.”

His smile at the end of that sentence was one of finality, somehow indicative that you’d overstayed your welcome. To be able to milk him for all he was worth, you were going to let him loose for the time being.

Clicking your recorder off, you tilted your head to the side, smiled politely, “Well, thank you for your time, Dr. Doh.”

“It’s been a pleasure.” 

While he was walking you to the front door, you couldn’t help but ask, “Dr. Doh, if I may, were the victims known to each other? Were they friends? Acquaintances?”

“That’s for the police to investigate. They were both in their late twenties, highly qualified -  one was a solicitor the other a botanist, both tan with double eyelids, a little over 5 feet”, He took a step closer to you, instinctively you took an uncomfortable step back but found yourself trapped between him and the front door. His burgundy turtleneck smelt like warm, sweet gingerbread mixed with the contrastive redolence of something woody. He put his hand on the clip that held your hair in a bun, an elusive smile dancing on his lips as he allowed your hair to freely ripple down to your waist. “...and they both had dark, waist length hair”, he whispered into your ear, sending a frisson of fear down your spine.

You looked at him like a deer caught in the headlights as he slowly retracted. Eyes locked with yours and face contorted in a fierce frown, he concluded grimly, “You fit his profile.”

.

.

.

Unable to sleep well that night, you went for an early morning run the next day and took a detour to Minseok’s residence. After discussing your findings with him, he offered you a close protection officer who’d moonlight to provide you security just until they’d made an arrest. Which meant you’d have one uniformed officer standing guard outside your guest house all day. You knew that they wouldn’t have done this for you if your family name wasn’t Jung.

“Kim Jongin’s back in town.” Relief seemed to have smoothened the lines on Minseok’s forehead and there was a boost of confidence in his voice when he broke the news to you.

“Are you planning to take him in?” you asked, sipping on coffee in Minseok’s kitchen while he made you some eggs.

He looked victorious and his brows shot up to his hairline as he explained animatedly, “We have enough evidence to put him on trial. I’ll get the warrant in two days.” 

“Hand to your heart, do you think he did it?”

“Yah, I’d never be able to make an arrest like that. If you promise not to quote me, I will say that -” 

He peered at you questioningly and you eased him with a reassuring nod, “Go on.”

“This looks like the work of an outsider.”

.

.

.

Later that evening, you found Jongin seated alone at a table in the bar. Beaten, as if overcome with exhaustion he was crouched over a glass of scotch, a silent tear sliding down his cheek. You sat next to him and ordered him another drink.

“I killed her.” He stated simply, eyes trained on the empty glass in front of him. To see a man whose taste buds didn’t even agree with coffee back in the day downing hard liquor effortlessly, broke your heart.

“What?” you enquired, sparing no effort to lay the edge off of your voice.

“That evening, we’d had a huge argument. She- she’d been wanting to move out of here for the longest time and I never agreed. It was as if she knew!” Burying his face in his hands, he broke into full blown sobs. It was a while before he composed himself and spoke again, “Here, you have your story. Following a trivial spat, a small town chaebol kills his girlfriend.”

Shaking your head furiously in disagreement, you held him tightly by his shoulders, “This is your chance, Jongin. Speak your truth. Tell them that you didn’t do it. They’ll need to hear it from you!”

Jongin looked you in the eyes, his own brimming with tears, “I was twelve when my puppy died and I couldn’t seem to get over it. My mother gave me this book which said the only way men can get over grief is by showing indifference, I tried that with Soojin.”

Brows furrowed, you asked, “And?”

“It worked for an hour.” He chuckled darkly, “I loved her and I always will. At this point I just don’t care. I should’ve listened to her. Maybe I even deserve this. I see the way people look at me, I- I feel written off, ostracized. A goddamn parliamentarian wants me in. My truth won’t survive their might.” 

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you started to talk him out of potential suicide, “Jongin -” 

But he raised his forefinger to silence you. Trembling, he asked, “I just find myself wondering, can you die from a broken heart?”

.

.

.

Kim Jongin had turned himself in.

Acquiescent to the slow wheels of justice, moderately satisfied with the first draft of your article, and concerned about your safety, your boss agreed to call you back to the Seoul office, at least until there were further developments in the case.

During the course of your stay in Cheongsong, you drove past the little street leading up to the Mansion several times but not once did you glance in its direction. Before your flight the next morning, you decided to pay the house a little visit to say a final goodbye. The first snow had laid a fleecy white blanket on the ceramic roof that gleamed from the light of the astral light of the night sky. You were flooded with memories of chasing butterflies in spring, climbing the only mango tree in town which still stood proud in your backyard, the stories of monsters and ghosts your parents would read to you in the blanket forts you’d build together… blissfully unaware that in a not so far future this was all your life would entail - monsters and ghosts.

The great oakwood front door turned on its hinges and a familiar aroma of caramel apple hotteok invited you in. They say every house has a peculiar smell and yours smelt of caramel apple hotteok, even after all this time. Your lips curled upward at the strangeness of your sentiments. The demons you tried so hard to escape all your life seemed like bad dreams and what was left of this place within you was just the good. The pure, unadulterated joy that was once your childhood. 

You proceeded to the kitchen to fetch yourself a cup of hot water, and that’s when you heard a knock on the front door. You ignored it at first thinking it was just the wind but the knock came again. Louder, this time. You left the kitchen to answer the door.

“Dr. Doh!” you exclaimed, utterly surprised to see him here at this hour.

“Miss Jung”, he smiled sheepishly, “I went by the guest house but the guard said you were at the Mansion. I just wanted to say goodbye, I’m leaving for Gyeonggi in the a.m.”

“Oh, yes, of course. Uh - I’m sorry, please, come in.” 

He followed you to the kitchen and said apologetically, “I hope I’m not imposing.”

“No, not at all! Never quite realised just how massive this house actually is - It was starting to eat me up. Gyeonggi, you say?”

“Oh, it’s a cursed life as an independent consultant, Miss Jung. I’m mostly living out of a suitcase..”

“I wish I could say differently. So your presence here was requested by Minseok’s team?” You asked as he took a seat at the kitchen table.

“No, I arrived just about a month before the first murder. My parents passed in a car crash three years ago. So I decided to sell the estate and the pepper farms.” He explained, taking a seat at the kitchen table.

“Would you like some tea? I brought some tea bags with me. I don’t know which tea it is, though.” You offered, mindlessly pouring hot water into two cups. 

“Sure” , he nodded.

“So did you?”

“What?”

“Manage to sell everything? And I’m sorry - uh about your parents.” 

You didn’t feel sorry. What you felt was an inexplicable weight in your chest rendering you breathless. Your heart started pounding erratically and your mind clouded over with a sense of impending doom as you went about the mundane task of making tea. 

“You seem a little out of it, Miss Jung. Is something bothering you?” He got off his chair and guided you to yours as your legs threatened to give away.

You sipped on some warm tea to steady yourself and said to Kyungsoo, “Oh, no it’s … It’s just this house. Maybe you were right, Dr. Doh. This isn’t a good time. I’m sorry but I might have to ask you to leave.”

Kyungsoo didn’t react. At all. He stood still, eyes fixed on your trembling frame.

“Park Soojin wasn’t his first kill”, he whispered.

“What?” you asked feebly, still trying to get a hold of yourself.

Kyungsoo sauntered over to the kitchen counter and brought you a glass of water. “Pay attention, Miss Jung. Park Soojin wasn’t his first kill. He was sloppy with the first one and it was only by a stroke of luck that he managed to get away. So he planned better with Soojin. Got even better with Jinri.”

Startled, you looked him in the eyes and he gave you a smile that raised goosebumps on your skin. 

Unperturbed Kyungsoo continued, pacing leisurely in the kitchen, a spine-chilling hint of exhilaration in his voice. “His criminal sophistication indicates that he understands criminology and knows police work. Unfortunately, Miss Jung,”, his voice dropped and you suddenly felt shackled to your seat. Squirming, but unable to make any big movement like reaching out for something that was heavy or sharp or both, “The tragedy is that he’s always believed he’s inferior to these women. But -” 

Kyungsoo levelled his face with yours and grinned with a glimmer of victory in his eyes, “for every tragedy, there is a happy ending.”

It took all you could muster to hold it together and dash for your purse to retrieve your cell phone. But you didn’t find it in there. 

“Is this what you’re looking for?” asked Kyungsoo, teasing as he pulled your phone from the inside pocket of his overcoat and handed it to you. 

You tried to turn it on to no avail. Voice as steady as could be, you said to him, “Please, please just leave!”

He took two easy steps towards you and you found yourself encased between his body and the wall. “Well then you shouldn’t have let me in! Tell me something, how could the close protection officer have given me your whereabouts if you dismissed him immediately after Jongin’s arrest? Haven’t you learnt since you were a little girl - always keep your guard up. Think before you speak. Did you think you were invincible?”

He took your hand in his and guided you back to the kitchen table. Eyes brimming tears, body trembling, and mind overcome with dread you followed him as if he were the pied piper. The familiar scent of gingerbread wafted up your nostrils making you nauseous.

As soon as you took a seat at the table, he put on his gloves, and lay a bottle of red nail polish and a red rose before you.

“Just think about how you can be with them again, Miss Jung. And don’t worry...I’ll be gentle.”

***

A/N: YES! you’re absolutely right! i just wanted to write turtleneck murderer Soo -_-

[hela-avenger]

To the Stars Who Listen- 9a

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 2177

Summary: When Loki desires to never fall in love, he casts a spell to prevent such a thing from happening. Except, well, in the matters of love and magic, you never know the result it may have in the end. Loki x Reader

A/N: Ok so I started to write this and then had to go back to edit it and then I added more and then it was all just angst and it was just getting so long and I couldn’t fix it. ANYWHO, the Halloween special will now be two parts. I’m really hoping it won’t be three but we shall have to wait and see. 

HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE! Please be safe out there! 

Tags are open! (Send me an ask/message/response.)

TTSWL Masterlist

Loki refrained from groaning as he stepped into the jet that would take them back to the Tower. Sam and Bucky were fighting over the pilot seat while Wanda was chattering loudly about the costume she had managed to find for herself and Vision. Loki catches your eye and he can tell you wish to speak to him. He doesn’t allow you the chance as he storms out of the seating area in preference of the solitude found in the back. 

The quinjet finally sets out of the compound and Loki manages to survive the short ride without being pulled into whatever conversation you wish to have with him. You most likely wanted to know the truth behind what you had revealed previously. An answer he would refuse to give you. 

Loki is almost cornered by you in the arrival at the tower but by sheer luck, you are called away by the AI allowing Loki to peacefully make his way down to his residential floor. The peace he had in mind at the return of his familiar abode is disrupted at the sight of Thor waiting for him there. 

Loki’s annoyance grows at the sight of his brother regaled in his Asgardian armor swinging Mjolnir with ease. 

“Welcome back, brother.” 

Loki just grunts in response as he tries to maneuver around the big oaf. 

“I went ahead and prepared your armor for the party tonight,” Thor continues with a smile. “It should be a merry night full of drinking and dancing. We should thoroughly enjoy it.” 

“I’m not going to that party.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because I refuse to partake in Midgardian celebrations.” 

“I would think you would enjoy this one, Loki. It’s all about mischief and magic.” 

Loki rubs his eyes tiredly. 

“I am quite tired, brother. I am in no mood for festivities.”

“You never are,” Thor states, forcing Loki to stop right outside his bedroom door. “You always hide out here and avoid having any fun. You’ve been here for months, Loki, and you have failed to participate in any way or form to enjoy humanity.”

“I hate this place,” Loki responds. “Why would I try to find some silver lining?” 

“If that is the case then perhaps I should report to father that you have made no progress and have you sent back home.”

That definitely deepens the foul mood Loki was already in.  

“If I go to this party will you refrain from reporting to father?” 

Thor thinks for a few seconds before relenting.

“Yes, I would.” 

“Great, good,” Loki mutters as he slips into the darkness of his room. “I’m not wearing my armor though.” 

“Then what will you wear?” 

Loki doesn’t respond promptly slamming the door closed to Thor’s face. 

The lab was as pristine and proper as the day before you had come in and destroyed it. The wall had been repaired and the equipment that had been easily thrown before was now bolted to the ground. You let out a sigh as you try to forget that dark moment of your life when you had turned against your friends for no reason. 

You still couldn’t remember what happened but it still shook you to the very core. The truth was something everyone valued and yet you had overlooked the darkness it could truly hold. Lying didn’t seem so bad now and you miss having the simple ability. 

Shaking yourself from that thought, you scanned the rest of the room looking for the man of the hour. 

The moment the jet landed at the tower you were promptly told by FRIDAY that Tony requested your presence in the lab. 

You tried to make a quick stop towards the Asgardian floor but the AI had overlooked your floor request in preference of following its creator’s demand. 

The lab remained silent after you came in. FRIDAY had announced your presence but Tony was nowhere to be seen. You felt yourself being watched but could find no one. You were starting to grow paranoid which didn’t help when a loud bang resonated nearby.

Your head snaps towards the source of the crash and you relax when you realize it’s just Dum-E hitting against the nearby desk.

“Oh Dum-E, I thought I was…”

“BOO!” 

You jump at the sudden shout behind you. Out of pure instinct, you throw your hands in front of you causing your gauntlets to shoot out two straight lines of energy. The beams scorch two black spots on the recently repaired wall.

“Well that’s new.” 

You turn around and glare at Tony. 

“What the hell, Tony!” you shout at him. “I could have killed you.” 

Tony chuckles in response and is quick to apologize. 

“Sorry, kid,” he answers. “Didn’t realize you were Iron Man 2.0.” 

You roll your eyes at him and laugh sarcastically at him. 

“Ha, ha, ha, very funny,” you joke. “These things are the only reason I have some semblance of control.” 

“Let me see them.” 

You raise your hands and show him the golden gauntlets. 

“Interesting design,” he mutters as he grabs a hold of them, turning them around back and forth. “I’m assuming the stones are important by their placement. I wonder what they’re made of. Carbon-based, maybe? Rare space jewel? I would have to run some tests…”

“Yeah, not possible,” you comment. “I can’t take these off. Things could go very wrong.” 

Tony scowls as he lets your hands go. 

“Can’t risk it for a few minutes?” Tony asks. “I’m sure I could improve them for a nicer aesthetic and easier mobility.” 

“Tony…”

“Come on,” he nudges. “You don’t see me wearing my blasters because they’re comfortable. It’ll only be a few minutes. Five tops.” 

You hesitate and Tony pesters on.  

“Let me do this for you. It’s the least I can do if you have to wear those atrocities for the rest of your life.” 

You chew on the inside of your cheek before relenting. 

“Just be careful with the stones and be quick, please,” you plead at him. “I don’t wish to have a repeat of my last mishaps.” 

Tony snorts as he helps you slide the gauntlets off your hands. 

“Heard about that,” he snickers. “A little birdie told me and by birdie, I obviously mean Sam.” 

You laugh and shake your head at him watching as he steps towards his desk and pulls out an array of files into the screen. He flips through them quickly before stopping at one. 

Pepper Gift Ideas. 

“Um, Tony?” 

He ignores you as he opens the file up and scatters out the multiple designs he’s sketched out. You’re shocked at the multiple documents in the file but don’t have the chance to inspect them closely as Tony finds the one he was looking for. 

“Here it is,” he states as he picks the design and throws it onto the screen next to his equipment. “What do you think, kid?” 

“Oh, wow,” you whisper as you look at the design on display. “That’s beautiful.” 

“Was tinkering for a while about making Pepper her own jewelry,” Tony responds beside you. “But she never wears what I get her.” 

“I’m sure she would wear this,” you tell him. “Are you sure you want to use this design on me?” 

Tony is quick to nod. 

“You’ve been dealt a shitty hand with this power,” Tony answers honestly. “I just want to make things better for you in any way I can.” 

“Thanks, Tony,” you tell him, heartfelt at his generosity. “Really, thank you.” 

Tony clears his throat from the rising emotion and looks away. He picks up your gauntlet and begins to disassemble them. 

“Now go away,” he mutters. “Let me work in peace.” 

“You told me it would only be five minutes.” 

“Well I lied. I’m surprised you didn’t notice.” 

You roll your eyes at him and Tony simply smirks. 

“I’ll have them done soon, I promise, so why don’t you go ahead and find your partner in crime, Natasha. She’s got your costume in her room.” 

You hesitate but you’ve already done your daily exercises to tire your powers out. Nothing could go wrong. Or at least that’s what you hoped for. 

You wince at the sharp tug of your hair. You glare at Natasha through the mirror but she simply smirks in response. You had no choice when it came to getting ready for this impromptu Halloween party. Natasha dragged you into her room the moment you showed up at her door. 

You didn’t mind her help for the party. In fact, you were glad to have it as the redhead went above and beyond to have everything ready for you. From the costume to the hair and makeup, Natasha had arranged it all. All you had to do was sit there and allow her to make her vision into a reality. 

Though you would use this time to catch up with your close friend, your mind was far away at the moment. 

Ever since your last lesson, Loki had avoided you like the plague. Any attempt of trying to apologize to him was somehow thwarted by Loki himself or some outside force. It didn’t help that Tony’s impromptu invitation and the jet that followed severed any chance of forcing him to see you. 

You felt guilty.

You had crossed a line by revealing something he wasn’t ready to when all he had done was help you. You needed to apologize and you needed to do it soon. 

“Ok, spill it.” 

You look up at Natasha’s pointed stare and sigh. 

“I can’t hide anything, can I?” you mutter tiredly. Nat tugs on your hair again and you hiss at the action. “I’m fine, Nat. Just trying to settle my mind.”

“Of what?” 

You take a deep breath debating whether it was a good idea to tell her of your past week with Loki. 

Nat despised him with every fiber of her being, but you… you didn’t. 

“Loki’s been a great teacher considering I’m a ticking time bomb...”  

“But?” Nat interrupts. 

“But,” you repeat with a huff. “I keep ruining everything with this stupid power.”

“You?” Nat asks, confused. “You ruined everything? Not him?”

“Nat…” 

“I’m sorry,” she sarcastically laughs. “That doesn’t make sense. You’ve done nothing wrong.” 

“You don’t understand,” you sigh. “If you just let me explain…”

“Then explain.” 

You take a deep breath and turn away from the mirror to look at Natasha directly. 

“I have invaded everyone’s privacy. I’ve learned things I have no right knowing and revealed things without permission. You already know how guilty I felt because of it,” you explain. “Yet, Loki wasn’t one of them. He’s immune to my power as I am to his but I recently crossed a line and uncovered something I wasn’t supposed to.”

“What was it?” 

“You know I can’t tell you.” 

 Natasha huffs in response but shrugs her curiosity off. 

“So?” she asks. “What’s wrong then?” 

“I feel really bad about it, Nat, and he’s avoiding me and I just want to apologize to him because I invaded his privacy but he won’t even let me get close to him to do it.”

“He doesn’t need an apology,” Nat scoffs. “He’s a grown man. He can lick up his wounds and move on.” 

You’re starting to regret confiding in her about your situation but Loki has yet to teach you how to evade telling the truth without necessarily resorting to lying.

“I apologized to you and everyone after my first outburst,” you remind her. “You didn’t need me to but I’m sure it helped.”

Natasha lets out a breath but she knew you had a point. 

“Loki doesn’t deserve your kindness.” 

She’s being honest with her opinion but you don’t feel the same way. 

“I think differently,” you answer. “I think it’s been a long time since Loki’s been treated with some kindness.” 

Natasha's eyes narrow down at you. 

“Do you…” she hesitates. “What exactly is your relationship with him?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Are you acquaintances? Friends? Or is it more?” 

You’re surprised at the question. 

“I guess we’re friends?” you answer unsurely. “Mentor and student seems weird so yeah… friends.” 

Natasha seems unconvinced but she doesn’t speak up on it. Instead, she motions you to face forward again so she could finish up with your hair.

“So do you think I’ll have time to slip out to apologize or am I going to have to wait until the party?” 

Nat can’t avoid the snort from escaping her promptly earning her a confused look from you. 

“Loki doesn’t go to the parties,” she tells you. “Not since I could remember.” 

“Then why did he come with us in the jet?” 

“Maybe because he has to monitor you and we have to monitor him?” 

Nat’s right but you can only hope that Loki might prove her wrong. 

“If he’s there… apologize to him,” Nat tells you hoping to ease the scowl that was settling on your face. “Just don’t expect him to forgive you. He’s not apologetic, far less forgiving.”

TTSWL Tag: @catsladen @is-it-madness @manyfandoms-marvel @mejusttryintogetby @illogicalfangirl @ariel-snow-tmnt @islinglivesinshire @musicconversedance @missmadwoman @smaranshakthi @adaydreamingdragon @poetic-fiasco @like-a-wildfire @jasminecalia @ha-tep @charbokbok @setsuna-meiou31 @ms-blvck @country-cowgirl-101 @bepo-is-sorry @hufflautia @waitforthehurricanrose @fictionalhoomanofnowhere @sanniegirl1214 @telenari @anonymouscastiel12 @ddaeing​

Loki Tag: @unicorniorosacomefrutillas @thesilentbluesparrow @oddly-drawn-muse @josiehosiedaninja @hp-hogwartsexpress @sadwaywardkid @wolf-lover74 @sizzlingbarbarianglitter @sigyn-nightshade @aoirohi @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @just-a-donut-who-reads @day-dreaming-fox @heykathchuu​

All Works Tag: @jmb959 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @hellocookiecutter @steve-rogers-personal-hell @buckybarnesyard @not-zari-tak @strangersstranger @thefridgeismybestie @ariel-snow-tmnt @badhollandfluff @what-a-flammable-heart

[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 :)

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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.

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[imnotasuperhero]

I would lie and say you’re not in my mind.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Stark!Reader

Type: Angst.

Summary: Reader finds herself alone, with no explanation as to where Wanda went. And life without her was a true nightmare she could only scape with not-so-nice coping mechanisms.

Wordcount: 2644

Warnings: Drug abuse, one suicidal thought and depression.

A/N: This is my submission for @jbbarnesnnoble writing challenge! I’m so sorry for the delay. Life and work got in the middle, leaving me drained to get some actual writing done. You can search this and other works with the tag #JBBNNMHAMChallenge which deals with different types of mental healt, as to raise awarenes about it.

A/N 2: Since it’s inspired in real events, I decided to twist this and give it a happy ending. People need to know there is hope. No matter how hard life becomes, you’ve got this and you shouldn’t suffer alone. Fight your fear and seek for help. I promise, life is worth living.

A huge than you to @marvelfansince08love for enduring her patience with my rants and mini meltdown about this monster. I could never thank you enough for puting up with my dumb ass, boo. I owe you a lot! <3

If you guys want more, I might have a plot for some kind of spin-off for this story. Just let me know. Also, criticism is welcomed.

"Miss Stark," one of the executives called your attention. "Your nose is bleeding."

Automatically, your fingers found your nose and yup, it was happening. Fucking hell.

Excusing yourself, you left the conference room with rapid steps to the closest bathroom, dismissing whoever you crossed on your way. You weren't new to this, after all.

Once you got the bleeding under control, you inspected yourself in the mirror. The reflection staring back at you was nothing like your old self. The circles under the eyes needed much more concealing and your smiles were forced. But at least you picked a black blouse today, which it'll do until you got a chance to go back home and change.

"Are you sure you don't want to go home?" Julia asked sheepishly.

"No. I'm capable of handling the rest of the day," you mumbled as you finished the last touches to your make-up.

"Mr. Stark could find-"

"Mr. Stark will find out shit," you cut your assistant. "This is just a sneeze that caused a vein to pop. Understood?" You could see how the woman in front of you shivered slightly and you almost laugh at it. You've become so pity.

"Y-yes, Miss. Is there anything else I can do?"

"No." You inspected yourself in the mirror once again before walking out. "Go over the rest of my day and make sure you send the informs to Stewart."

Fortunately, the day progressed smoothly with very few bumps. And none of them were about you, so you took it as a victory.

Kicking your high heels after closing the door behind you, you started to strip while walking towards the bathroom. The weekend was finally here, which meant you could wind out and enjoy your own company. After the latest events on Beto's, you made sure to lay low for a while. You didn't need another clingy bitch hanging from you all the time. You were just a gal wanting to have some release. Nothing more, nothing less.

In the middle of your calming bath, the sharp razor you kept for emergencies caught your eyes. 'God, it'd be so easy.' You thought to yourself. Just a little line in the right place would do it. The consuming pain would disappear and you'd be free. Hell, maybe you'd find her again in the afterlife.

Before you could continue the line of thoughts, your phone rang with your dad's personalized ringtone. Something you made sure of for when you were doing not-so-nice activities.

"Hey, dad." You absentmindedly sank deeper in the tub. The bubbly water covering up to under your jaw.

"Hi, Peanut." Tony's voice soothed your damaged soul the littlest bit. "It's been a while. How are you?"

"I'm fine," you answered nonchalantly. Lying has become second nature by now. "Living the life. How are you guys?"

"That's what I called you about. Pepper and I want you to come to spend the weekend here. We barely see you outside work so we thought it'd be nice to take advantage of the long weekend. Pleeeeaaase? With a cherry on top?" He finished in a child's voice and you felt your heart squeeze itself.

Truth was, you were tired of lying all the time. You were tired of faking and saying you were okay when you weren't.

"Okay," you sighed. 

"Yay!" Yup, he was a child. "We'll get your room ready. We'll have your favorite."

You didn't know the exact moment you started crying, your dad going a mile a minute talking about his latest invention and how he'd love for you to help him figure out the last touches.

Hanging up, you finally let out the awaiting sobs. Memories of an easier -and happier- time plaguing your mind, making it harder and harder to breathe. Life without her sucked balls.

After drying yourself and throwing on a fresh pair of pajamas, you quickly fixed your bag for the weekend, knowing fully well you'll wake up with just the right spare time before you had to leave for your dad's.

The next morning, you woke up before your alarm went off, which would be fine if it weren't for Wanda appearing in your dreams. Promises of a better life and reaching milestones together, fanning the painful fire in your heart.

Walking to your stash, you retrieved the white powder, forming three consecutive lines on your nightstand. A small straw between your fingers ready to be used. You wouldn't be able to consume when you were at your dad's, so you better took your chance before it was too late. Odin knew you needed the boost.

Stopping at a random café a few blocks from your home, you quickly got yourself a black coffee and a muffin before hitting the pedal once again, changing the playlist to something more upbeat. 

Soon enough, your mind drifted to the impromptu road trips you'd do with Wanda. Sometimes even a week-long trip. Just the two of you apart from the chaos of your lives. 

Out on the road, it was only laughs, music, and fast food with the occasional make-out sessions. God, if you could, you'd live in the past forever. 

Stepping out of your car, you couldn't help the smile that broke your face. Working in the same place as your dad didn't mean you've got to see him every day. And being honest, you were happy he offered you scape from her curse.

"Hi, dad." You answered once you reached him, returning his hug. And boy, didn't you felt safe in those strong arms. They never failed to soothe you.

After what seemed like hours of walking around your dad's property, you and Pepper came back to the house ready for a refreshing iced tea. But any trace of a nice calming bath dissipated away when you say your dad standing in the middle of the living room, his face stoic.

"What's this?" The quietness of his voice freezing your blood.

"I'm waiting, Y/N." 

You cringed at your dad's voice. The disappointment showing in his eyes made you regret not checking before you grabbed a random bag for this trip.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me this is not what I think it is," he begged, showing you and Pepper the almost empty baggy between his fingers. And you ignored him. He already knew the truth, after all. "Say it," he growled.

"So the bleeding nose-"

"Screw you," you muttered, cutting Pepper mid-sentence.

"Hey! That's no way to talk to her,"

"You know what?" You walked to your dad, looking up to his eyes. "Yes, I'm an addict. Good job, Sherlock. Now you can get rid of me as you did with my mom. After all, you never wanted me in the first place, so why should it matter." You snapped with burning tears in your eyes. "There's no need to keep faking it anymore." You walked away, leaving them mouth agape, trying to process your words.

Plopping down on your bed, you couldn't help the feeling of failure igniting inside you. The tears in your eyes burning your eyes as they appeared, flowing down your cheeks as the sadness and emptiness became just too much to handle.

You didn't remember when was the last time you were genuinely happy. And it sucked that it depended on someone. It sucked and you despised it more than anything. But then again, Wanda was everything you'd need to live in this world. Always positive, with a smile so bright that could light up the darkest room. Her eyes? God, you loved losing yourself in those green orbs of hers in the afterglow. And now you had to live without all these little things that made you happy. All the little moments of joy were gone, tuning you into this sack of bones and flesh, with no expectations for life.

It wasn't till much later that night that you left your room, after ignoring your dad's callings.

Padding your way to the bar, you served yourself a whiskey. The burning on your troat a welcomed feeling. Your mind going back to her, as it was the normalcy since she dusted away, leaving you with thousands of questions and a hole in your heart that you knew well you could never fill again. How could you, when you knew she was it? how could you even try to patch it up, when you knew there was no one else like her?

One whiskey turned into 5 and you didn't know when you started to cry, considering you thought there were no tears left after all these years. But the strong hand on your shoulder made you snap from your pity party, hurriedly drying your tears. Crying was for the weak, and boy were you weak.

"I'm sorry," you drowned the last of your drink before looking up, mustering the best stoic face you could.

"You don't need to fake around me, Peanut. We're family," your dad poured you another drink as he got one himself. 

"Look, what happened with your mother has nothing to do with you." He continued once he sat beside you. "And I would never leave you alone, Y/N. No matter how many headaches you give me." He joked but composed himself when you didn't react to it. "I- Pepper is pregnant. And we really want you in the baby's life. But.. Look, if there was a way to bring her back, I would. In a heartbeat. But Y/N, you have to understand, she wouldn't like this version of you. If not for yourself, do it for us,"

You wanted to speak, you wanted to answer him. But the lump in your throat was too big to swallow and the knife in your heart twisted when you saw your dad's eyes tearing up. And fuck did it hurt. To see him cry -for the first time- pained you like hell. And knowing you were the cause of those tears made you feel like you were the worst person alive. 

"I-," you paused to gather your bearings, but your dad beat you to it.

"I know, Peanut," his arms surrounded you in that way that only him could.

"I promise you," he continued once you broke away. "One day, it will get easier. Those feelings will never fully go away, but it will get easier." He dried your tear-stained cheeks softly. "You are not alone. And she'll always be with you,"

 And despite the grief eating you from the inside, you knew you had to live. For them. For her.

The next few months had been a true rollercoaster. You didn't know the abstinence would affect you so badly. And while others would have it much worse, you couldn't help the change of moods and the few tears you caused to those around you. Not to mention, the significant drop in your moods. But you also knew better. You've kept your word, and you hadn't touched it again. 

Under Natasha's supervision, you got rid of every secret stash you had at both, your apartment and your office, and you deleted the number of your dealer. And even if sometimes it seemed like hell would manifest itself as Nat was your watcher, you couldn't be more glad because, admittedly, the woman had balls and she did knew how to bribe you, to the point that you'd even quit drinking even if it was more of a social addiction, in your case. That, mixed with Natasha's friendship and support -as well as those around you- and the birth of Morgan, your little sister had you believing once more, even if you knew you'd never get to be the same person you once were. 

The little bundle of joy had come to this world with a few rays of sunshine for you, finally opening your eyes and making you realize that there was hope. Even if you never saw her again, life was worth living and you'd live it for her at your best capacity. 

So when Pepper asked you to babysit Morgan for a few days, considering she couldn't bring a 2 months old baby with her, you accepted in a heartbeat.

But as you were awoken by a fussing Morgan, after an eventful night in which you barely slept, you realized this might've not been your brightest idea.

Inhaling deeply, you got up and walked to her room, picking her up from her crib and rocking her as you made your way to the kitchen. Babies were a fucking clock. Which only served to add to your decision of never having kids. 

If you were on the verge of tears most of the time, wishing deeply for her parents to come back so you could have time for yourself, you knew you'd be mental if you had to live through this for the rest of your life.

Your ears catching the front door opening made you stop mid singing, turning around as you walked to the hushed words as you feed a calmed down Morgan just to stop dead in your tracks when you saw her. The only reason you stood still, was the baby in your arms. 

Your eyes scanned the room, looking for a sign that this was just a dream. That the image of your girlfriend was just a projection of your mind, like so many other times before during these 5 years since she disappeared from your arms. But the silence surrounding you all and 8 pairs of eyes inspecting you made you realize that this wasn't a dream.

The cries of Morgan took you all from your reverie and soon, Pepper was by your side, taking the baby from your arms before kissing the top of your head, something she always did whenever you felt unsettled.

"Peanut-"

"Is she real?" You questioned as you scrutinized a fidgety Wanda, who stood by the door, ready to run away if needed.

Natasha could sense your turmoil growing with every single second that passed and soon enough you felt a strong pair of arms supporting you, ready to catch you if you fell.

"She's here, Maliska. We brought her back," she spoke quietly, making sure you understood her words.

The wild thoughts on your mind got you walking towards her. The need to touch her and prove yourself that she was back, got your fingers itching. You could feel the blood running in your ears and you shaking steps as you got closer to who you thought was gone forever, leaving you empty and moving through life like a zombie.

The choke that broke through you when your hand cupped her cheek got you smiling as tears rolled down with every erratic thump of your heart.

"You're here," you whispered, afraid of breaking the spell you've found yourself into. 

But you couldn't stay in that thought for long because an intimately familiar pair of arms surrounded you as Wanda threw yourself at you, hiding her face on the crook of your neck.

Feeling her hot breath against your skin was all you needed to finally give in and hold her with all you had, knowing that she was here; with you.

You didn't know how long you both stood there, holding each other and basking in the calmness that surrounded you. All your previous tormenting thoughts dissipated in that exact moment. Wanda was back and you found the hole in your heart start to fill itself.

"Hi, Printsessa," Wanda murmured against your neck, kissing her way up to your jaw, peppering your face with kisses before she finally kissed your lips. And boy, did your knees trembled.

After 5 long years, the lips you've got used to kissing whenever you pleased were once against yours, igniting all the love and hope and good things you got to feel once upon a time.

You can find the continuation, here (:

Taglist: @summergeezburr @wannabe-fic-reader @natasha-danvers @jumbojamba47 @rooskaya-yelena @sananabdliw @aaron-despair @username23345 @nate-the-dreamer @higherfurther-romanova

[voiceless-terror]

prompt request: JMart angst/hurt/comfort "you're not broken" + "i love you, no matter what your brain tells you"

Hey there friend! As requested, here is your prompt. I made it into a sort of season one/two au where Jon and Martin have already been dating. Hope you like! It can be a stand alone piece, but it is also the second in a series, the first of which is here: The Art of Conversation

“I was thinking…”

“As you do.”

Jon fixed Martin with a scowl. “Perhaps we could- that is, if you want-wouldyouliketospendthenightatmine?” 

“You’ll have to try again, love. Didn’t quite catch that.”

Jon sighed in the face of Martin’s open fondness as they strolled down the street, making their way back from lunch. Martin brought a happiness to his life that he never thought possible- a companionship built on mutual respect and love. He enjoyed every night he spent in Martin’s cozy flat, curled up on the couch drinking tea and talking about everything and nothing at all. That’s not to say they didn’t have their troubles- Martin was rather inexperienced with intimate relationships, and Jon didn’t have the greatest track record when it came to communication. But Martin held his hand the night he stuttered out his asexuality, patient and loving and kind. Jon wasn’t ashamed of who he was, never had been- but he knew that for others it was considered a deal breaker. He’d heard stories. But Martin nodded, thanked him for trusting him with his boundaries, and let him curl back into his side, as if it changed nothing.

If he could handle that, than why, for fuck’s sake, was he so worried about having Martin over?

His flat wasn’t that bad. In actuality, it was quite a bit bigger than Martin’s. He wasn’t dirty, he usually kept up with chores, kept it relatively tidy.

But there was something so intimate about it- there was a reason he never hosted any events. Martin saw glimpses of it when he picked him up for things, but he’d never actually been inside. It was just so...barren. Void of anything Jon-like. Sure, it housed his possessions, his favorite books, his grandmother’s salvageable furniture. But it was a peek into his mind that he didn’t like others seeing. What if the way he lived was wrong? What if he didn’t have the right things? Like the little things that Martin had- a proper strainer for loose-leaf tea, little jars of spices for cooking, a towel-rack instead of a plastic hook on the wall. A nice bed frame and headboard, a worn but cozy duvet. In comparison, Jon lived like a freshly-graduated college student. He should have his shit together by now, right?

But every time he thought of making it a bit more homey and lived-in, his mind blanked. Where were the lists of all the things you need to make a home yours? What would look best on the walls? And what if he bought all of those things and it just looked awkward, like puzzle pieces forced in the wrong place? So he kept his mismatched furniture and odd little piles of books. It’s easier to stick with what you know.

But it was about time he had Martin over- the man had accepted him in every possible way, this couldn’t be the thing that would make or break their relationship. That didn’t make it any easier, though.

“Would you like,” he started again, taking a deeper breath. “To spend the night at mine on Saturday?” That would give him enough time to prepare, it was only Wednesday. “I could- I dunno, fix dinner, we could watch that movie you wanted to see? Or whatever, really. I don’t mind.”

Martin beamed a bright, shining smile that always made Jon’s heart flutter when it was aimed his way. “I’d love that, Jon! I’ll bring over some wine, we’ll make a night of it.” His arm wound around Jon’s waist, bringing him closer. “Fix you an omelette in the morning.”

“With the green peppers?”

“Of course. Oh! We could go for a morning stroll; you’ve got that lovely park by your house, yeah?”

“Mhm.” It was nice seeing Martin so excited. His anxiety eased, though he still felt the need to qualify. “It’s- well, it’s not the nicest place, but I keep it clean and-”

“Jon,” Martin’s elbow nudged his side, and he bent down to give him a quick peck on the cheek. “Any place is nice if it’s got you in it.”

“Sap,” Jon rolled his eyes even as his face flushed red. 

He could probably do this. Right?

______

Wrong. Wrong wrong wrong.

Jon was twitchy and nervous the rest of the week, his mind spiraling as he considered every situation, even the most ridiculous. Martin’s not going to care if your flat is ugly. Martin’s going to take one look inside and suggest going back to his. Martin will like your cooking. It’s perfectly serviceable. Martin’s going to spit it out and-

“You alright there, boss?”

Jon jumped at the sound of Tim’s voice, almost dropping the mug he’d been preparing to wash. “Christ, Tim! Announce yourself next time, please.”

“That was me announcing myself,” he hopped up on the counter, giving him an easy smile. “What’s going on? You’ve been in your head all week.”

“I have not.”

“You asked me about the Ling statement twice today. It’s Friday. I finished researching it on Monday.”

Well then.

Jon sighed, putting the mug in the sink and turning to face Tim’s friendly concern. “It’s- hm. I’m having Martin at mine tomorrow, and- well, I’m a bit nervous.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.” Jon dodged the condescending pat to the back. “Seriously, that’s adorable. What’s there to be nervous about? You’ve been dating for three months, and pining for much more besides that.”

Jon’s hands gripped the counter with a renewed force. “I just want everything to be okay. I want him to think I’m a fully-functional human being, not someone who panics over having his boyfriend over. We’re always at his place, he’s always cooking for me. He deserves- he deserves everything.”

Tim hopped off the counter, face suddenly serious. “Jon, you’re quite literally Martin’s everything. It’s sickening with you two, honestly. You’ll be fine.” He threw an arm around his shoulder and Jon allowed it, just this once. “Now, what’re you cooking?”

“Well, there’s this pasta dish he loves at the Italian place on Third,” Jon began, his hands fidgeting nervously. “But it’s a bit...difficult to cook. I found a few recipes and I think I can recreate it, it’s just going to take some time and I’ve never worked with some of the ingredients and I might not have the right dishes for it and I don’t want to just substitute things-”

Tim cut off his rant. “That all sounds really lovely, but why don’t you just stick with something you know? That penne you brought to Sasha’s potluck last year- now that was good. And Martin liked it, right?”

“Well, yes,” Jon bristled. “But you think I can’t do it? It’s just a recipe, I should be able to follow basic instructions, I’m not stupid-”

“I didn’t say that, Jon,” Tim grabbed his shoulders and steered him into a seat. “I just think if you’re already this nervous about having him over, maybe you should minimize the stress, yeah? Lighten the load.”

“I can’t,” Jon argued. “I already bought all of the ingredients- I can’t just let them go to waste. I can do this.”

“Well, that’s the spirit!” Tim put a hand on his shoulder as Jon slumped over, leaning into the table. “Look, it’ll go over fine. Stop worrying. Martin will love whatever you make because you made it, alright? And if you need help, just give me a call. I’m not so bad in the kitchen myself, y’know.”

“Tim, you once set the toaster oven on fire because you left a cheese toastie in there for two hours.”

“Fuck’s sake, you set an oven on fire one time and no one lets you forget it-” 

_______

The day arrives without much fanfare, besides a text from both Sasha and Tim declaring that “he had this!” and to “relax, it’ll go great!” Tim wasn’t very good at keeping secrets.

And of course, a text from Martin.

Looking forward to tonight :) Love you!

He straightens up his apartment and then un-straightens it when it looks too clean. He moves furniture to make it more centered, he studies the recipe a couple more times so when four o’clock hits he’ll be ready to start cooking. It’ll be on the table by six, right when Martin’s supposed to arrive. And everything will be fine. Everything will be fine.

But his books look wrong today. Messy, ugly, no sort of order. There are little piles and big piles. Even the ones on the bookshelf look bad somehow. He’s got authors and genres all mixed up. It looks stupid, laughable. Jon’s got to fix this.

He starts unloading them one by one, first in alphabetical order then later by genre, because that makes more sense, right? He switches them back to alphabetical after much consideration- that’s the easier one, of course. But then he gets online, sees all of these nice color-coded displays and wouldn’t that look nice on his bookshelf? He grabs the older, leather-bound books he keeps in his bedroom and brings them out to the sitting area. Now these should be displayed, these look nice. But then there’s no room left over and he’s surrounded by paperbacks he couldn’t find room for and Christ the place is a mess-

And then the doorbell rings.

Fuck. Fuck!

Of course Martin would get here early. Martin always shows up at least fifteen minutes early, but two hours is kind of pushing it. Maybe he wanted to surprise Jon with something, Martin’s very kind like that. Jon opens the door, hands shaking.

Martin’s standing there, looking flustered and harried. “Sorry I’m late!” he begins, giving Jon a kiss on the cheek and a quick hug. Late? “The trains were running slow again and I practically sprinted down the street- hope I didn’t mess up your plans, love!”

Jon looks down at his phone, dumbfounded. It’s six thirty. 

It’s six thirty and there’s no dinner on the table. It’s six thirty and his living room’s a mess, books everywhere. It’s six thirty and Martin’s going to be so, so disappointed.

“Jon? Is everything alright?” He can barely make out Martin’s voice as his head swims; his arms wrap around his torso and dig into his body and all he can mumble is apologies.

“Sorry- I’m- fuck, I’m so stupid, I’m-”

“Hey, hey,” Martin’s voice immediately goes into that low, soothing tone that he uses whenever Jon’s upset. Whenever Jon makes everything about him when it should be about Martin for once. “None of that, now. Let’s go sit down, yeah?’ Martin immediately sets down his bag and his- oh God, he’s brought flowers and now Jon’s crying and everything’s wrong.

Martin’s steering him over to the couch with infinite care sits beside him, putting a hand on his knee and the other on his cheek, wiping his tears. It’s a gesture Jon loves but doesn’t deserve today. “It’s alright love, don’t cry. I’m here.”

“You’re- you’re here and I didn’t - I didn’t fix anything and nothing’s right, I’m so sorry-” Jon is well aware his words are barely intelligible, but that hardly matters now. Not five seconds in and he’s already ruined the night with his stupid, broken brain that just can’t fucking focus.

“You’re not broken, Jon,” He must have said the words aloud because now Martin’s got his face in his hands and is trying to make eye contact with him. “Don’t say that about yourself. You know it’s not true.”

“But it is,” Martin has to see that. What grown man can’t keep a schedule? What kind of adult loses three hours to a failed attempt at organizing books? Martin’s going to realize how messed up he is and he’s going to leave and Jon’s going to be alone again. “You- you deserve so much more than someone who can’t e-even make you dinner, can’t do one simple thing-”

“Jon, don’t- don’t say things like that. I know what I deserve, alright?” Martin pulls Jon to his chest and the pressure is good, stabilizing. “I love you, no matter what that brain of yours tells you. Okay?” He can only nod as the words bring on a fresh round of tears and he buries his face in Martin’s jumper.

It feels like hours before he calms down under Martin’s soothing hands and warm voice. He reluctantly pulls away to look the man in the eye. He deserves an apology that isn’t a breakdown. “I’m- I’m really sorry, though,” he sniffs, trying to keep his emotions in check. “It’s just- you’re always cooking for me and doing nice things and I wanted to pay you back.”

Martin’s brow furrows and Jon’s afraid he’s said the wrong words. “It’s not about paying me back, Jon. I cook for you because I want to, not because I have to. I like- well, it’s nice to finally have someone who appreciates it.”

Jon’s aware of Martin’s tempestuous relationship with his mother- he’s never brought Jon along on his visits, though he says that’s more to spare Jon than it is any judgment on their relationship. “She’s absolutely horrid sometimes, Jon. You don’t deserve that,” he said.

“Well, neither do you, Martin.” Jon never liked seeing Martin cry, though he insisted these were happy tears.

“You’ve got a lot of ingredients over there,” Martin murmurs, casting an appreciative eye over at the counter. “What were you planning on making?”

He pulls up the recipe on his phone, reluctantly handing it over to Martin. “I don’t think it would’ve turned out well, but I know how much you loved it when we-”

“When we went there on our first date,” Martin finishes. His eyes are watering- is he crying? “I’m sorry, it’s just- that’s so thoughtful, I think that might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

“Martin,” Jon says incredulously as he winds his arms around the man’s neck. “I didn’t even make it.”

“It’s the thought that counts, Jon!” His voice is nasally and tight. 

“Don’t- don’t cry Martin-”

“I can’t help it!”

“You’re going to make me cry again-” Martin chuckles at this and leans back on the couch, taking Jon with him in a mess of tears and laughter.  “What a pair we make.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, love. Maybe we can make it together, yeah? Bond n’ all that.”

“That sounds nice,” Jon’s response is muffled by Martin’s jumper. “Would require getting up, though.”

“We’ve got some time. This couch is heavenly- you’ve been holding out on me, Sims.”

Later that night, after a few mishaps but an all-around good dinner, he’s back on the couch and back in Martin’s arms. He runs his fingers through Jon’s hair, a touch that quiets his brain for the first time all week. 

As it turns out, the only thing his flat was missing was someone to share it with.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27354958

Next in Series:

My Dearest

The Weight of Love