#ive been cooking up this one for a couple months and it was almost ready before the download fest fic but then richie made me Think Thought

[josephtrohman]

Joe reaches above his head, pushing onto his toes, to put a clean frying pan on the top shelf, pulling his t-shirt up with the motion. There’s a flash of the dimples near Joe’s spine, at the small of his back—an unnecessarily sexy part of him, in Patrick’s opinion—holding Patrick’s attention. Patrick feels pulled to him from across the kitchen, unconsciously, fingers curling over hip bones, thumbs holding the hem of Joe’s shirt out of the way to get an eye full. He stares with wide, yearning eyes... Or: Patrick catches a glimpse of Joe’s back dimples, and he has to act up about it. Naturally.

top patrick/bottom joe nation i wrote a little bit of married/domestic flavoured smut inspired by joe's back dimples, hope u enjoy <3

[thewritewolf]

Mari Christmas And A Happy New Adrien

Summary:

Lost in the aftermath of Hawkmoth's defeat, Adrien loses complete track of time and before he knows it, the holiday season is upon him. Will a Christmas visit to his girlfriend's house be just what he needs to move on?

Hello and welcome to my piece for the @mlsecretsanta event! My giftee, @lesslinette, asked for among other things, Adrienette, family bonding, fluff and just a bit of hurt/comfort and I aimed to please!

I had to do a good amount of research into French and Chinese Christmas traditions (including interviewing my long-suffering French friend - thanks @emsylcatac!), so hopefully I didn't get anything *too* wrong.

Read on Ao3

Enjoy!

Marinette 💖: You still up?

Adrien: Yeah Still not sleeping great House was always too quiet Never thought it could get more quiet tho lol Whats up?

Marinette 💖: :( Just wondering what u were doing 4 xmas Since You know

Adrien: Since father went to jail and mom died again? Haven’t thought about it Guess ive still got time to figure it out

Marinette 💖: … ..Its the 23rd of Dec Like 2am Not a lot of time left

Adrien: oh Guess uh Stay at home?

Marinette 💖: Adrien Its been like two months Youve been going crazy in there Youll just be stuck in there all by yourself Why don’t you come over?

Adrien: I don’t know… I don’t want to bring anyone down Or ruin anyone’s christmas

Marinette 💖: Adrien ‘Kindest Boy in Paris’ Agreste

Adrien: Oh no she used my middle name

Marinette 💖: You are coming over tomorrow And letting me pamper you And letting my family - your REAL family - love you And that is the end of that ...Is that okay with you?

Adrien: Whatever you say ma’am

Marinette 💖: Good Be here no later than fifteen hundred Let me know if I need to pick you up

Adrien: Will do

Adrien laid back down, his face lit up only by the glow of his phone and the only noise in the room being Plagg’s snoring. Putting his phone to sleep, he turned over, closed his eyes, and honestly smiled for what felt like the first time in a long time.

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

Adrien reached the door to his girlfriend’s house with a gift under one arm, an envelope in his pocket, and a weak smile on his face. The latter wasn’t because of a lack of feeling on his part - the exact opposite, actually.

It had been hard to go to sleep after their conversation that night, a swirl of mixed emotions keeping him from getting the rest that he craved. Last night wasn’t much better and he was left exhausted. He’d even been half tempted to call and say that he couldn’t make it, but somehow that only made him feel worse.

So here he was. He’d shambled his way to the car, driven himself there through blurry eyes and frequent yawns, and turned the doorknob. Maybe they’d understand if he just dropped off the present and headed home.

Well, maybe not home, but just where he lived.

The instant the door opened, a wave of hot air buffeted him. Not only did it warm his freezing face, it brought all sorts of wonderful smells on it. There were the expected scents - baked potatoes, salmon, chicken. But then was something else, something a little harder to place.

After puzzling over it for a moment, he shook his head and stepped into the house. No sooner had he closed the door behind him than he heard some voices calling out from deeper inside.

“Wait, was that the door? The family wasn’t supposed to be over until tomorrow, weren’t they?”

“Tom, that has to be Adrien!”

There was excitement in Sabine’s voice that warmed his heart, but not quite as much as when he’d taken a couple steps into the house and was blindsided by Marinette bursting out of the living room to wrap him in a hug.

“Worried I might not show?” Adrien whispered after they parted from their kiss.

“Not even for a moment, chaton.” She smiled up at him before her eyes wandered down to his arms, a suspicious look on her face when she saw the one present. “Looks like you showed some restraint this year.”

“Of course!” At her continued doubting look, he added. “Come on, I’m perfectly capable of giving reasonable gifts.”

“Last year you tried to give me my favorite restaurant.”

“But I didn’t!”

“Only because I hid your checkbook and credit cards!”

Adrien snorted. “Details.”

Rolling her eyes, Marinette tugged on his coat sleeve. “Follow me, you ridiculous man. You can put your gifts under the tree, we’ll open them tomorrow.”

She led him into the living room, where their Christmas tree had been set up in all its glory. There were red paper chains wrapped all around it and a huge variety of homemade ornaments - including a few that he’d made in years past. Ever since he and Marinette had started dating, he’d been welcomed into their household with open arms. And even before that, they’d been nothing but kind to him.

His eyes poured over the tree, looking for one specific ornament. It didn’t take him long to find it - with its poor quality, it stood out among the beautiful glass orbs and painted baubles. His fingers brushed over the patches of glitter, a nostalgic smile spreading across his face as he took in the patterns of melted wax inside it. His first ornament. They’d barely been dating a few months when he’d made that one.

Had it really been four years already?

Arms wrapped around him from the side and he looked down at Marinette’s chin resting on his shoulder, peering up at him with big blue eyes.

“What’re you thinking about, hot stuff?”

“Old memories, that’s all.”

“Hmm…” She leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek. “You just about ready to make some new ones?”

“With you? Always.”

“You two want to come in and help us finish cooking dinner?” They both jumped when Sabine’s voice reached them.

Blushing, Marinette reluctantly let Adrien go and headed toward the kitchen. “Coming, maman!”

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

A few hours later and the four of them were seated around the dining room table. Some things had been moved around from what Adrien remembered from the usual arrangement, and a long table had been set up. Most of the spaces were empty - with the four of them, only about a third of the table was occupied. But while the chairs were mostly left bare, the table was not.

Even though he had helped make some of it, Adrien was still amazed at how good the food all looked when laid out on the table like this.

Most of it was pretty traditional, at least from what he knew. A lot of the time his experience with Christmas dinners were meals allowed to grow cold until he gave up on his father showing. But the roasted chicken was still steaming when they cut into it, the smoked salmon and toast still holding the heat of the oven on them. Add in the gratin dauphinois and this was just about the ideal Christmas dinner he could imagine.

Naturally, it got even better with Sabine’s contribution - spring rolls.

As Adrien shoveled them onto his plate, he asked Sabine, “Is this the only Chinese dish for today, maman?”

“Just you wait, dear.” She smiled over her plate. “Today was Tom’s turn to make dinner. Tomorrow will be mine and you’ll definitely have your fill then.”

“I can’t wait!” Adrien took some of the chestnut sauce to pour over his chicken. Which reminded him… He glanced nervously toward the oven. “I don’t suppose you made foie gras, did you?”

Marinette made a face and shivered.

Tom quickly shook his head. “Oh no, son. Back when Marinette was… what? Eight, nine? She found out how it was made and made us promise to never have it again.”

“Eleven years later and we haven’t broken that promise yet,” Sabine finished. “There are plenty of other foods in the world.”

“That’s good.” Adrien breathed a sigh of relief. “It always made me uncomfortable when my father ordered it.”

“Ordered, dear?” Sabine gave him a confused look.

“Oh, we never really cooked our own dinners.”

Tom’s jaw dropped. “Not even Christmas dinner?”

“Nope. Sometimes he’d have to order the dinner prepared the day before and then we’d reheat it the day of, since no one wanted to come into work on Christmas day, you know?”

“I see…” Tom shared a look with Sabine, but the meaning was lost on Adrien. “Well, you make sure you have your fill, son! We’ll be making more for tomorrow, so this is all for us.”

“Thanks,” Adrien said with a grateful smile.

The conversation meandered and for the most part Adrien was just content to listen in, drinking in the company after spending so much of his time recently just by himself. Well, mostly by himself. Marinette would visit whenever she could get the time between college classes and internships. Nino and Alya were more elusive, if only because they were outside the city so often these days.

But there was one person who was his constant companion, Adrien thought with a smile as he peeked into the breast pocket of his T-shirt…

...Only to see that it was empty. Maybe he’d gone to visit Tikki and the kwamis of the miracle box? Adrien was drawn out of his thoughts when Sabine directed a question at him.

“Are you ready for the pre-dessert snacks, dear?”

“Oh! Sure, yeah. What do you have?”

“You’ll love it!” Tom excitedly got up and hustled over to the kitchen, Sabine right behind him. He raised his voice to be heard as he went to the room next door. “We know how much you love camembert so…”

Adrien’s eyes widened. They didn’t…

Tom returned with a platter of cheeses in his hands and a frown on his lips.

“Something wrong, papa?” Marinette’s eyes glanced between Tom and the cheese platter.

“No, no… its just… I could have sworn I bought more cheese than this. And I was so sure that I had purchased camembert.” He rubbed his chin. “Ah well, there is more than enough for the three of us anyway.”

While Sabine set down a large bowl of salad in the middle of the table, Adrien glanced at Marinette. At his side, Marinette was biting her lips and pointedly staring into the middle distance, trying her hardest not to laugh. For his part, Adrien was frustrated that he couldn’t go anywhere without Plagg making a noticeable dent in the food supply.

His annoyance with Plagg was so great he almost didn’t enjoy the Yule Log that Tom had made for dessert. Almost, but not quite.

Once they were done with dinner, they cleared the table.

“So, how’d you like the meal?” Marinette asked as she dried off the dishes while Adrien washed them.

“Definitely better hot. And homemade.”

Marinette chuckled. “I’m glad the bar was so high for us. Really makes us feel like we accomplished something here.”

“How about…” Adrien bit down on his lips and narrowed his eyes in thought. “It was the most delicious meal I’ve had in months.”

“Ooo, now we’re getting somewhere.”

“Years even.”

“Good, good, go on.”

“I had never known food could taste so delicious until you graced me with your heavenly meals.”

Marinette’s eyes gleamed with restrained laughter, the hint of a barely contained smile ruining her deadpan. “Glad I could finally weasel how you really feel out of you.”

“Yeah you’re pretty good at that, aren’t you?” Hands still in the sink’s soapy water, he leaned over and planted a kiss on her forehead.

“No fooling around now, we still have to help put up the last decorations before we relax for the night.”

“What sort of decorations?”

“Paper lanterns and paper chains. That sort of thing.” At Adrien’s politely confused look, she added, “It’ll help make mom’s side of the family feel welcome. Plus they look pretty cool.”

“Well what are we waiting for then? Let’s kick this into overdrive!”

Adrien suddenly worked in a flurry, Marinette scream laughing as she got splashed with some of the water thrown up by his breakneck pace. Marinette could barely keep up between her giggling, but she somehow managed.

With the last fork, plate, and glass sparkling clean and put away, Marinette shook her head and dabbed at her slightly damp shirt with a fresh towel.

“You’re a dork, you know that?”

“So my girlfriend tells me.”

Adrien relished the sometimes quiet, sometimes loud evening he spent with the Dupain-Chengs. When he went upstairs and cuddled Marinette in the cozy darkness, Adrien felt only excitement for the next day

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

Morning came swiftly, but Adrien rose to meet the dawn’s first light with a smile on his lips and a spring in his step. Marinette was… a little less eager, but he managed to coax her out of the bed, eventually.

When they finally got down the stairs and made it to the kitchen, Sabine’s eyes widened and she even froze in the middle of folding one of her dumplings.

“Marinette? I’m surprised to see you up so early.”

Bleary eyed, her daughter simply jabbed a finger toward Adrien and grunted. Adrien rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled.

“I knew you’d be a good influence on her, sweetie.”  Sabine patted his cheek with a warm smile. “Now, once you’ve had some breakfast I’d really appreciate some help out here. From you especially, Marinette, since you know exactly how to do it the way I like it.”

“Can’t Tom help?” Adrien made some toast for him and Marinette, doing his best to stay out of Sabine’s way. “Not that I’m not willing to lend a hand, but he’s got to be pretty good at it after all this time, right?”

Sabine laughed and even Marinette cracked a smile. “You’d think so, but no. The man can make almost any dessert known to French mankind, but I’ve yet to see him finish one spring roll or dumpling in all our years of marriage. Just about the only thing I’m trusting him with today is the roasted pork.”

“Not even the cheese plate?” Adrien asked, tongue in cheek. To his surprise, Sabine shook her head gravely.

“We don’t make one for Christmas day. After all, everyone that is going to be here is from my side of the family and we’re all lactose intolerant.”

“Oh.” Adrien glanced at Marinette, who shrugged.

“I got lucky and got papa’s tolerance for it, I guess.”

“Huh… well, can I help?”

A few hours passed, most of which Adrien spent doing vital but unskilled cooking like stirring and kneading. Although they did let him try to fold a few dumplings. It ended up nowhere near as well done as Marinette’s, but she still gave him a kiss on the cheek for the good effort. From what he gathered, Tom had never even managed to get it to stay together.

They had just put the last batch in the oven when they heard a knock at the door, Sabine quickly taking off her apron as she rushed to answer it.

Adrien’s ears perked up when he heard a conversation in Chinese start up, but between him being a little rusty and them speaking so fast, he couldn’t pick out much.

A few moments later, Sabine walked back into the room with an older Chinese couple. Marinette pulled him towards them. Sabine put a hand on Adrien’s shoulder and introduced them.

“Adrien, these are my parents. My mother, Ling,” she said, gesturing towards the grey-haired woman currently hugging Marinette. “And my father, Zheng.”

The older man’s grey eyes sparkled with excitement as he held out a red envelope for Adrien, who just now noticed that Marinette had also been given one. He froze, eyes widening. Was he supposed to have gotten them something too? He hadn’t realized that anyone would be getting him anything, except maybe Marinette. There was a moment where he was about to decline but he took a shot in the dark and accepted.

The moment his hand touched the envelope, Zheng spoke in Mandarin, “Best wishes for the New Year!”

“Thank you very much!” Adrien replied automatically in the same language. While the finer points might escape him, Adrien was fluent in niceties.

Zheng’s eyes widened before he nodded sagely to himself. “Ahh, I see you’ve picked up some Mandarin from my daughter, yes?”

“Oh, no, sir. I’ve been studying since I was fourteen.”

Once again, Zheng’s eyes widened before he chuckled and looked knowingly at Marinette. “This one is definitely a keeper! I approve.”

Marinette’s cheeks were almost as red as the envelope, but she still smiled.

The bright, enticing red of the envelope made him want nothing more than to open it right then and there. But Adrien took a nod from Marinette, who had very pointedly left it sealed even as she refused to set it down. He chose to follow her lead as they all made their way to the living room.

While the Dupain-Cheng parents and the Cheng parents were getting settled there, Marinette volunteered them to go make some tea. Once they were in the kitchen and out of earshot of the new arrivals, Adrien held up his envelope with a raised eyebrow and curious look.

“You can go ahead and look at it now, it’s just not polite to do it right when you get it.” She carefully unsealed the envelope. “It's this Chinese tradition - good luck money for the new year, you know?”

Adrien followed her lead and found one ten, one twenty, and one fifty euro note inside. Glancing over, it seemed Marinette got the same. He was half tempted to just give her his euros since he didn’t have any need for it, but decided that might be tacky. If she would even take them at all. After stashing the envelopes away in a kitchen drawer, they came back with tea for everyone.

Over the next few hours, more and more family members funneled into the house. Adrien, used to seeing maybe four people during the holiday season, thought the room would be close to bursting after the first aunt arrived with husband and two kids in tow. But then came the uncle and his family, then the second aunt with her boyfriend and by the end of it fifteen people were packed into the living room. For some reason apples in boxes became involved? Adrien thought that was a pun but that was more his pun sense than his linguistic skill.

Before anyone could get too settled in, they finally got to opening presents. Despite his fears from the red envelope, no one else seemed to have gotten Adrien anything.

At least, none of the extended family had. The Dupain-Cheng family, however…

“Here you go, dear.” While the rest of the room was chattering among themselves, Sabine placed a package about as big as a shoebox on Adrien’s lap. Before he could react to it, Marinette had shoved a bag stuffed with packing paper.

“Let me go get your-”

Adrien felt a tug on his arm and looked down at Marinette seated beside him. “Open your gifts first and then we’ll open the ones you got us.”

“Okay, okay.” Adrien looked at the box on his lap and tore it open. He tilted his head in confusion as he lifted the fabric that he found there out of the box. His eyes widened when he realized it was an apron with ‘Kiss the Chef’ on it.

“Its for when you come over to cook with us!” Tom beamed down at him proudly. “Now you don’t need to borrow our aprons any more - you’ll have one of your very own!”

Adrien felt his eyes get misty and he bit his lips to keep himself from crying. After a few moments of pulling himself together, he managed to say, “Thank you, guys. I’m really looking forward to wearing it!”

“Speaking of…” Marinette prodded the bag she left with him.

“Right, right.”

Adrien removed the paper and pulled out what turned out to be a sweater, cream colored and decorated with mistletoes and black cats in red scarves. It felt amazingly soft as he slipped it on over his head, embraced in a warm hug that - he lifted the fabric to his nose and took a deep breath - yes, smelled exactly like Marinette. For now at least.

“Do you like it?” Instead of replying, Adrien wrapped his arms around Marinette and pulled her close to him, nuzzling his nose against her neck. Giggling, she smacked his arms lightly. “I’ll take that as a yes, now let go!”

After he pulled his arms back, he stood up and stepped between the Cheng family members and made it to the tree before heading back to the little corner of the living room that they had claimed. He passed the envelope to Tom and the box to Marinette.

“A… gift card for an appliance store?” Tom said, his brow furrowing.

“I wanted to get you an actual new stove because you’re always upset at it,” Adrien explained in a rush, feeling embarrassed that his gift felt so… impersonal compared to theirs. “But when I went to the store I had no idea what actually made a good stove and searching it up on the internet only made it more confusing and… yeah,” he finished lamely.”

He glanced up at them and felt better to see them smiling back.

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Adrien! Thank you, we’ll make good use of this.”

Beside him, Marinette began opening her gift, which Adrien was much more excited for. Not because he had spent any less for it, but because that at least he knew exactly what to get.

He knew he’d done good when she gasped as she pulled out the expensive fabric she’d once stared at longingly from the otherside of a store’s window in Paris. Which, of course, meant that he was also expecting the smack on his arm from her as well.

“Adrien! This is expensive! You definitely shouldn’t have bought this.”

“Actually, you’ll remember that I get to spoil you exactly three times a year - birthdays, Valentine’s, and Christmas.” He gave her the most innocent look he could manage. “So you like it then?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You know I absolutely love it, you cat.”

“Then that’s great!” He continued with the overly chipper and oblivious tone, knowing how much it bugged her. He rubbed his hands together. “So… when’s dinner?”

-----------

After a Christmas dinner packed with Chinese dishes, they slowly returned to the living room.

Adrien sat in a corner of the room, taking in the warm and inviting atmosphere, the excitement and energy of so many people gathered together in such a small space.

Holding Marinette close, Adrien felt like he was part of a real family for the first time in a long time.

[css1992]

Guilty Pleasure

[Porn AU]

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

All the warnings listed on Part I apply.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII / Part IX / Part X /  Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

As it turned out, Tony did make great pancakes. Peter woke up the next day to the smell of them, and shyly headed in the general direction it was coming from, until he reached the kitchen. Tony was standing there, wearing impeccable gray dress pants, a crisp white shirt and a green tie, as he added batter to a frying pan. Peter supposed that was what heaven would look like when he died.

“Oh, hey, kitten, you’re up.” He grinned at him, who smiled in return, nodding. He had put his clothes from the night before back on, and he was glad he did, because Tony was dressed to the nines and it would have been awkward if he had shown up in just his boxers or something. “Sleep well?”

“I did, thanks.” And it was surprisingly true. Peter hadn’t had such a good night’s sleep in a while, he supposed he missed sleeping next to someone. He did share a bed with Beck for two years, so it felt awfully lonely to sleep by himself. “Are you headed to work?” He asked as he sat on a stool by the kitchen island and Tony nodded guiltily, fixing two plates of pancakes.

“I’m so sorry, I tried to make arrangements to get the morning off, but duty calls.” To his credit, he did look genuinely sorry, so Peter thought maybe it wasn’t just an excuse to get rid of him. Maybe.

“It’s okay, I have to be home soon, or my friends will worry.” Which wasn’t exactly true, but not exactly a lie either. They wouldn’t notice he was gone until lunchtime, since they both had work or class in the morning, but when they did notice, they would freak out.

“I thought you lived by yourself?” Tony sounded interested as he sat beside him by the kitchen counter and pushed a plate his way. Peter thanked him, taking a bite of the surprisingly good pancake.

“I do, but we live in the same building, so we’re always checking in on each other.” Tony hummed, nodding, and they were silent for a little while, until the older man spoke up again.

“Can I ask about your relatives?” He felt his eyes on him and knew that, much like the night before, he was testing the waters, making sure Peter was comfortable with that subject.

“Sure. I don’t have any, though. I’m an orphan, I’ve lived in foster homes for most of my life.” Peter didn’t really mind talking about that period – it was basically all he knew. He was too little when his parents died and was only ten when Ben and May passed away, so the foster homes were where he made most of his memories.

“Oh. I’m so sorry to hear that.” Tony winced, maybe thinking he had touched a sensitive subject after all, but Peter smiled and shrugged.

“It’s okay, it was a long time ago. My friends are like family to me now, so I’m good.”

“I’m glad you have them.” Again, he gave him that genuine smile that made Peter believe he was actually glad to hear that. Like he actually cared. “So… Can I see you again? Or was this just a one time thing?” The older man turned his body to face Peter, who froze for a second with the mug held to his lips, mid-sip.

“Oh, uhm…” Peter almost chocked on the coffee, not quite believing his ears. He honestly thought that the older man would slowly disappear from his life. Or maybe not even that slowly. Peter figured he had gotten what he wanted, so why would he stick around? “I mean, sure. If you want.” He said, like an idiot, and Tony raised a brow.

“I really do, but I don’t mean to pressure you, so if you want to say no and just go back to what we had, that’s okay. Or not even that, if you prefer. Just say the word and I’ll get out of your hair.” He sounded honest enough, but Peter quickly shook his head, eyes wide.

“No, it’s okay, I definitely wanna do this again.” He assured him, and Tony seemed satisfied with his answer, expression softening as he nodded.

After breakfast, the older man insisted on driving him home and when they arrived at his building, he felt a little awkward as to how to say goodbye, but Tony made it easier by simply leaning in and kissing him softly on the lips, one hand stroking his knee in a gentle caress.

“I’ll call you later, kitten.” He promised and Peter just sighed quietly, feeling dizzy.

He was a little out of it for the rest of the day, both Ned and MJ asked what was wrong with him in separate occasions, but he just said he was tired from his new routine. They had dinner together and when he went back to his apartment that night, he was just mildly surprised that he actually got a call from Tony. It was an innocent, sweet phone call, too. He did not expect that, to be honest, they had been sexting for two months and they had actual sex the previous night, so he kind of expected Tony to just go for it.

But no.

He asked about his day, about his friends, he told him about his own day, then somehow they ended up talking a little bit about Peter’s childhood, his parents, aunt May and Uncle Ben, it was just a really nice chat, which he appreciated. Not that he didn’t enjoy talking dirty to Tony, but the fact that he called just to have a normal conversation with no second intentions was, well. Nice.

He didn’t really know where they were going with that, probably nowhere, really, Peter was an ex-porn star, Tony was an A-list celebrity, a billionaire and a fucking Avenger, so there was literally zero chance they could evolve to something else. They would probably just go out a few more times, have mind-blowing awesome sex, and then go their separate ways. And Peter was okay with that.

It was fine. Really. It was just fine.

And it was for the best, otherwise how would he explain to Ned and MJ that he was dating Tony Fucking Stark? It would be a nightmare. MJ would kill him and lecture him on how big corporations like Stark Industries were destroying their way of life and Ned would pass out – and possibly die – so, yeah. It was a good thing they had no real future together.  

That didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy it while it lasted, though. Tony was really nice, a true gentleman, a good conversationalist, a great kisser and an amazing lay. So whatever he could get out of those moments they had together, he would. Everything was perfectly fine and under control. And did he mention fine?

The next morning, he woke up early and went for a jog around the block. He had been experimenting with different types of workout routines, but he thought he might stick with jogging and yoga for a while, he was even looking for a yoga studio close to his building so he could start training more seriously. When he got back, he took a long shower, made breakfast and spent a few hours answering people on Just4Fans, then posted a few pictures there, linked it to his twitter account and let people know on Instagram.

Tony texted him mid-morning and Peter blushed like a teenager when he read his message.

“Just saw the new pics, you look stunning as always, baby, but I have to admit I’m spoiled now, pictures are not enough. Can’t wait to see you again. Dinner tomorrow?”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, sir, keep it coming.” He smiled to himself and bit his lower lip, excited by the prospect of seeing Tony again so soon. “Tomorrow sounds great, where are we going? Should I start stressing about the dress code?”

“I was thinking you could come over. Did I mention that I’m a great cook? Pancakes aren’t my only specialty.” Peter felt butterflies in his stomach. It was stupid, of course, but he just found it endearing that Tony wanted to cook for him.

“I’d love to. I’m curious about your cooking, your pancakes did taste fantastic.” Just the thought of that morning and, more importantly, the night before that, made his mind wander, as a quiet sigh left his lips.

“Prepare to be blown away.”

“You’re so humble, I love that about you.” The young man smiled to himself.

“Thank you, kitten, it’s one of my many qualities.” Peter laughed at his antics.

They settled on a time and Tony insisted on picking him up, even though it was obviously inconvenient since they were having dinner at his place, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer, so Peter gave in. They talked a little more, but soon Tony had to go back to work and now that the younger man knew exactly who he was, he imagined it was a lot of work.

He went on with his Saturday – in the afternoon, he took a few pictures and videos with different sets of lingerie he bought with MJ when they went to Victoria’s Secret, and that should be enough to last him at least a few days. At dinnertime, he went down to his friends’ apartment, as usual, and they were both home.

“What’s up, nerd,” MJ greeted from the couch, but didn’t raise her eyes from her phone.

“Hey, Pete, dinner is almost ready,” Ned called from the kitchen island.

“Want me to set the table?” He walked over to where Ned was fishing a plate out of the microwave.

“Sure.”

Peter knew his way around the kitchen, so he got to work, placing the plates and cutlery on the small, square table by the counter.

“Hey, are you up for a Star Trek marathon tomorrow night? I don’t have any classes next Monday morning, we can stay up late.”

“Oh, uhm. I –“ Fuck, he hadn’t really thought of an excuse for why he wouldn’t be having dinner with them. “I can’t, because…” He noticed that MJ had finally raised her eyes from her phone, only to stare at him suspiciously. “I have this thing, uhm, on my Just4Fans… Tomorrow night.”

“Can’t you just schedule the posts?” MJ asked from the couch, because of-fucking-course she knew about that.

“Uhm, yeah, I can, but – uhm. It’s a live stream. I’m live streaming tomorrow for the first time. It’s good for tips and stuff, so. Yeah. I’ve already let everybody know, I can’t cancel.” He gave them an apologetic smile, trying to look convincing, but he was pretty sure he just looked like a nervous wreck.

“Oh. Ok, then.” Ned shrugged and didn’t seem bothered at all, but MJ kept staring at him from the couch, like she could smell his bullshit from a mile away. She didn’t say anything, though, for which he was grateful.

The next morning, he woke up early and decided to skip his usual jog around the block and just did a short yoga session in his living room, warmed by the morning sun that flooded his apartment at that time. He had lunch with his friends and spent the afternoon with them, but left early with the excuse that he had to get ready for his “live stream”.

When the older man texted to say he was waiting outside, Peter was already showered and dressed and skipped downstairs two steps at a time. He didn’t know what he was supposed to wear to a billionaire’s house, but he decided casual was probably fine, so he put on a pair of light blue jeans and a light pink, thin sweater.

Tony was driving a low-profile, black SUV and he got out of the car when Peter stepped outside the building. He had a baseball cap and tinted glasses on, dark blue jeans, a Metallica t-shirt and sneakers, and if Peter didn’t know it was him, he would never have thought that was actually Tony Stark.

“Hey, gorgeous, looking good.” Tony didn’t think twice before reaching out to pull him closer by the hips, stealing a chaste kiss from his lips. Peter blushed and completely forgot he should be worried that Ned or MJ might see them if they came downstairs for something, or even if they looked out the living room window. He wrapped his arms around the older man’s neck and deepened the kiss.

“Thanks, but you should get your eyes checked.” He joked as he let go, taking a small step back.

“Yeah, I think so too, I think constantly staring at such beauty is taking a toll on my eyesight, I’m an old man, after all.” Tony pulled him by the chin and stole yet another kiss. When he pulled away,  Peter shook his head and laughed.

“Oh my God. Seriously, do you practice these lines in the mirror or something?” He had a feeling that if it was anyone else saying half the things Tony said to him daily, he would find it corny and possibly annoying, but somehow the older man made everything sound charming, sweet, sexy, endearing – hell, everything at once. And he always knew what to say to make Peter’s knees go weak, it was unnerving sometimes.

“No, you just inspire me daily, baby.” He gave him a charming smile, as he opened the door and gestured for Peter to get in the car.

The ride to Tony’s place was filled with the sound of the older man humming along to the music playing. Peter didn’t recognize any of the songs, it was a classic rock playlist, but then he heard a familiar beat and thought it was a great opportunity to stick his foot so deep inside his mouth he almost choked.

“I love Led Zeppelin!” He didn’t exactly love Led Zeppelin and he was quite sure he had just heard a cover of that song, not the original version, but he thought he’d sound cool if he said that. When he looked over, though, Tony was laughing his head off. Peter blushed a deep crimson, eyes widening as he realized he must have said something incredibly dumb.

“Oh, you’re not joking.” Finally seeming to realize that the younger man wasn’t laughing along with him, Tony turned down the volume, as they approached Stark Tower’s garage entrance. “That’s Back in Black by AC/DC, kitten. But hey, I love Zeppelin, too, who doesn’t?” He smiled warmly, looking at him sideways, and Peter nodded.

“Oh, right. Yeah. Of course.” Fuck his life. Of course he had to make a complete fool of himself right at the beginning of the night. He wanted to jump out the window from embarrassment, but it would only add to his humiliation, since Tony had already parked and got out of the car.

The older man opened the door for him and Peter avoided eyes contact, as he led him to the elevator. He could still feel his cheeks burning on the ride up, his head was starting to hurt from shame. Was that a thing?

“Hey, don’t be like this.” Tony pulled him into a loose hug, kissing his temple with a soft smile on his lips. “It was an honest mistake. Besides, I wouldn’t be able to identify whatever it is you kids listen to these days.”

It was oddly comforting to hear that. Even though he knew Tony wasn’t trying to be mean to him back in the car, it was hard not to feel attacked in situations like that. Beck always tried to make him feel dumb, inferior and juvenile whenever he got the chance.

So he rested his head on Tony’s shoulder and nodded slowly. He was going to say something like “don’t worry, I’m fine” but it got lost somewhere in the back of his throat when the older man held him a little tighter and stroked his hair.

The whole interaction lasted merely a few seconds, soon the elevator doors opened to the familiar sight of Tony’s living room, looking just as impeccable as it did a couple of nights earlier. The older man gestured for Peter to lead the way and he did, paying closer attention to the details, since he was a little too nervous to do it the last time he was there.

What he realized when he took a look around, was that the penthouse didn’t look lived in at all. It was all glass and metal, shiny floors and sophisticated furniture, black and gray decoration – it looked ready to be featured in one of those shows that listed the most beautiful houses in the world, but it didn’t look like a place he would like to go back to at the end of the day.

“You don’t spend a lot of time here, do you?” Peter asked, as Tony led them in the direction he remembered the kitchen and the dining room were.

“That obvious, huh?” The older man winced and Peter flushed, realizing he might have been a little rude in his observation. “But yeah, when I’m home, I spend most of my time down in the workshop.”

“Ah, the famous workshop. I suppose if I were to visit right now there would be pictures of me hanging on every wall?” He joked, remembering that Tony had once told him that he would hang his pictures in the workshop and never get any work done.

“I mean, not every wall…” He turned to him and winked, leaving the younger man a little unsure if he meant it or if he was just messing around. Sometimes it was hard to tell with the man’s sarcastic sense of humor. “I’ll give you a tour after dinner.” He promised, when they finally reached the dining room.

The table was set in a simple manner, for what Peter was glad, it made him feel more comfortable and at ease. Tony pulled out a chair for him then headed to the kitchen, which was separated from the dining room only by a long, wide counter, where the had breakfast the other day.

The man came back with wine, pouring two glasses for them, then he started placing the dishes on the table. There was mashed potatoes, grilled veggies and roast chicken, and the smell was to die for, Peter’s stomach rumbled and he wasn’t even that hungry.  

“Voilà. This was my favorite meal as a kid, my grandma used to make this for me all the time when I spent summers with her.” He took a seat across from Peter, looking at him expectantly. The younger man found his enthusiasm amusing, so he fixed a plate under Tony’s eager supervision. “Tell me what you think. But be nice, I haven’t cooked this in a while, it might be a little dry.”

Peter took a bite of the chicken first, and it took him a few moments to feel the explosion of flavors on his tongue. The meat was tender and juicy, cooked to perfection, and the seasoning tasted inexplicably like home – it didn’t taste like something he could order at a restaurant, let alone a frozen meal he could buy at the supermarket. He then tried the mashed potatoes along with the grilled veggies and almost cried.

“Tony, this is so good, have you considered dropping everything and starting a restaurant?” he gushed, taking another bite of the chicken only to confirm that, yes, that was probably what paradise tasted like.

“Don’t exaggerate. I already like you plenty, kitten, you don’t need to flatter my cooking skills.” Tony smiled, shaking his head lightly, and if Peter didn’t know any better, he might think he was blushing.

“I’m not, this is seriously the best homemade meal I’ve ever eaten,” he insisted and Tony cocked his head to the side, with a confused smile and a frown

“What the hell have they been feeding you, kid?” He asked and Peter chuckled.

“Well, I spent most of my life in foster care and I was never lucky enough to end up in a family that liked to cook.” The families he stayed with weren’t bad – not compared to some of the horror stories he heard from other foster kids he met in the past – they just weren’t good. They provided him with the bare minimum for survival, so water and enough food to avoid starvation. “And uncle Ben and aunt May, dude… They couldn’t cook for shit.” He laughed, remembering Aunt May’s date loaf, which was probably the worst thing he had ever tasted in his life.

“Well, now I feel obligated to feed you properly,” Tony announced, and Peter quickly shook his head, feeling his face grow red for the hundredth time that night.

“Oh, no, you don’t need to, I wasn’t–”

“I want to, if I’m your only source of good, homemade food, then I’m taking this seriously, kitten.” He pointed a fork at him as he spoke. “And you can help me cook, what do you say? That way I can teach you a thing or two so you won’t starve to death.” Again, the idea that Tony wanted to cook for him was too sweet. He was an incredibly busy guy who probably didn’t even cook for himself, but he was willing to waste that kind of time on Peter. It just–

“Sounds amazing.” He smiled, nodding, and the older man’s face softened when their eyes met.  

“Good.” He took a sip of wine and topped off both of their glasses. “Did you tell your friends you were coming here today?” That seemed like a polite way to ask if they knew about him, and Peter wasn’t sure what kind of answer he was expecting.

“No, they think I’m home.” He watched the man’s face, waiting for his reaction, but there was none, so Peter felt like he should explain himself further. “After my ex – they’re just a little too overprotective, so, you know. I just don’t want them to worry.” Tony raised his eyebrows and Peter’s eyes widened, realizing what that might have sounded like. “Not that I think you’re my – that we’re – I mean, I’m not assuming anything, I just meant –“

“Hey, it’s okay, I know what you mean.” He reached across the table to squeeze one of his shaking hands. “Your friends sound like good people, by the way. You’re lucky to have them.”

“Thanks.” Tony smoothly changed the subject and started talking about his summers with his grandmother and how she taught him everything he knew about cooking. He said that was the reason why his repertoire consisted only of comfort food and Peter thought that was the sweetest thing he had learned about him so far.

Once dinner was done with, Tony kept his promise and gave him a tour. The place looked like a labyrinth made of glass and steel, there were five floors, several rooms with various purposes, but everything seemed sterile and impersonal, like nobody ever stepped foot in any of those places, which somehow made them look lifeless and even a little scary – like a ghost town of sorts. Peter couldn’t help but think that his tiny, mostly empty apartment felt more like a home than all five floors of Tony’s.

Well, all except for one.

“And this is the workshop,” Tony declared with a flourish when the glass doors slid open, revealing a wide, open space filled with worktables, holographic screens, robots, cars, Iron Man suits, and so many other things he had never seen before in his life. “Sorry about the mess.” He didn’t sound sorry, though, he sounded happy and proud, and Peter thought it was the only place in the penthouse that felt weirdly cozy and homey. To his relief – and secret disappointment –, there were no pictures of him in lingerie hanging on the walls.

“This is amazing…” Peter breathed out, realizing that that was Tony’s actual home. There was even a kitchenette in a corner, and next to it there was a small, cozy couch in front of a reasonably sized TV and a fluffy rug. He supposed Tony took naps there, too, because there was also a blanket draped over the back of the couch.

He walked over there, followed closely by the older man, and took a seat, sinking into the soft pillows.  

“I think this is my favorite room.” He blinked up at Tony, who regarded him silently for a few moments, and Peter started to think he had fucked up again. “What?” He whispered, but his answer came in the form of a kiss. He immediately melted into it, all worries flying out the window as he opened his mouth to taste him better.

Tony pushed him gently until he was lying on the couch with his larger body on top of him, and he’d be lying if he said that wasn’t the best feeling in the world.

It was a tight fit, but they made it work, as pieces of clothes were thrown to a pile on the floor; as skin met skin and made the room feel unbearably hot; as hands explored and mouths danced together and teeth left secret claiming marks on eager necks; as he felt, once again, full and sate and whole, and then spent and lax and dazed in the best of ways.

Suddenly, what had been frantic and passionate became slow and soft, what had been loud and messy became quiet and wholesome.  

The room was silent then, as their bodies slowly cooled down. Tony was lying on his back on the couch and Peter was lying on top of him, chests flush together, breathing in and out in sync. He felt a blanket being draped over his shoulders and he all but melted into the body underneath him.

“Can I ask you a question?” He whispered quietly into Tony’s neck, after several minutes, not sure if the older man had fallen asleep, his breathing was slow and constant.

“Baby, you could ask me anything right now, there’s no way I’d say no to you.” He answered right away and Peter giggled, pushing himself up on Tony’s chest to look down at him.

“Why did you want to meet me? For real?” Tony, whose eyes had been closed until that moment, opened them to gaze at him. He was quiet for a while, as one of his hands found the small of Peter’s back under the blanket and started rubbing circles on his skin.

“I liked talking to you.” He answered quietly, eyes locked on his. At first, Peter thought that was all the answer he was getting, and he would have been fine with that, but Tony kept talking. “You made me feel alive again.” His heart raced and his breath hitched in shock. He blinked down at the older man, who raised his free hand to tuck some of Peter’s curls behind his ear. “You see, things were… rough. After Thanos.” He remembered the funny story Tony told him in the restaurant a few nights earlier and was surprised to see such grief in the man’s eyes. “I had these nightmares. Anxiety attacks. Couldn’t sleep most nights.”

Peter reached out and ran a finger across the man’s forehead, trying to smooth down the frown that had formed there. Tony smiled, grabbing that hand to give it a little kiss.

“Pepper wanted me to give up the suit for good, said it was killing me and she wouldn’t stand by and watch it happen. On top of that, my relationship with some of the Avengers was strained, to say the least. I thought retiring from the Avengers would be enough to solve most of my problems, but I was wrong and everything just kind of snowballed from there. So what I mean to say is that by the time I met you, I was… Fucking exhausted.”

“Tony...” He frowned, heart clenching, because he could hear the pain in the man’s voice and how much he meant every word and it was devastating.  

“I looked forward to talking to you every night, you know. Still do. I don’t why you got under my skin like that, but you did. So when I said I needed to meet you, I meant I needed to meet you.” He smiled and Peter’s heart skipped a beat. The whole confession was almost too much to handle, too much to believe. At the same time, he knew what Tony meant because he had also been in a very dark place when they met and, somehow, talking to him brought some light back into his life. “My turn?”

“Sure.” Peter smiled, entwining his fingers on Tony’s chest and resting his chin on top of them, looking at the older man’s face.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to answer, I have a feeling this might be a bit of a touchy subject for you.” He cautioned, and Peter gulped. He knew what was coming and he thought about not answering, but Tony had been honest with him, so he took a deep breath and nodded.

“O-okay.”

“How did you end up doing porn? Not that it’s bad or anything, you just sounded so uncomfortable the other night... Like you’re ashamed of it, or regretful.” Tony asked carefully, one of his hands was still rubbing soothing circles on the skin of his back.

“Hm… Well. It’s complicated. I guess the short answer is: I was young and dumb and my older boyfriend convinced me it was a good idea. Then he left me and took all the money and everything we’ve ever built with him and – and now the only thing I know how to do is porn, so… Yeah.” It was a very short version of what happened, but very accurate as well. Tony frowned, raising an eyebrow.

“What do you mean he took everything?”

“He told me to pack a bag and leave. Whatever I couldn’t fit in my bag stayed behind, as well as the social media accounts, the channel, the money… He locked me out of everything.” Peter’s voice grew weaker as he spoke, because he felt so fucking ashamed. Of everything. Of admitting he let a man like Quentin into his life, that he made so many terrible decisions just so he could stay with him, only to be treated like that in the end. It was fucking humiliating.

Tony sat up in a haste, forcing him to do the same, until they were both facing each other on the couch. The older man’s eyes were wide, he looked so shocked it was almost funny. Almost.

“Peter, that’s – why – wait, and what do you mean he convinced you to do porn? Is it not something that you want to do?” Peter dropped his gaze for a second, not really sure what the true answer to that question was. If he was honest with himself, most times he just avoided thinking too much about what he was doing.  

“Well… I don’t hate it anymore, I guess,” he settled on that, after a few minutes of silence. “Sometimes I even enjoy it now, like… Like when we talk,” he mumbled the last part, raising his eyes again to look into Tony’s warm ones, and the older man looked back at him with – what? Worry? Regret? Guilt?

“So you hated it? Before?” He insisted, and Peter knew he could still choose not to answer if he wanted to, Tony wouldn’t force it out of him, but still – Peter wanted to tell him. He wanted Tony to know.

To know him. All of him. Even the parts that hurt.

“I did.” He whispered, holding back the tears that filled his eyes when the confession left his lips, because that was something that he never wanted to acknowledge. It took all he had to hold Tony’s gaze and not look away in shame. “I just felt… kinda shitty sometimes. Like… I wasn’t even human, just an object to be used and abused and disposed of.” He continued, swallowing a lump in his throat. He couldn’t read Tony’s expression, but his eyes were gentle as always, there was no judgment there. “I didn’t feel like my body belonged to me anymore.” Saying that aloud came almost as a surprise to Peter himself. He always tried so hard not to think about those feelings he almost believed they didn’t really exist, even though they were always there at the back of his mind.

“Pete...” Tony cupped his face in both of his hands, he looked so torn, it almost made Peter regret telling him.

“I’m doing okay now, I promise. I’m in control of my body, my choices, my money. I’m fine now, really,” he vowed and Tony pulled his head closer and pressed their lips together – it wasn’t even a kiss, just a caress.

“I can help you.” He offered with determination, holding his face in his hands, looking straight into his eyes and they were burning with anger, but Peter knew it wasn’t directed to him. “I can help you get everything back, I can make his life a living hell for doing that to you, I can –“

“Please, don’t,” He winced, shaking his head firmly, lifting his hands to hold Tony’s wrists, feeling his pulse and how fast his heart was beating. “Okay? It’s in the past. It’s over now. I don’t want to – relive it, I just want to forget.” His heart raced when the older man closed his eyes and started shaking his head. “Tony?”

“Peter, you can’t ask me to –“

“I am asking you leave it alone.” He insisted, a little desperately, but Tony’s face was locked in a frown and panic started creeping up on him. He couldn’t bear to think about confronting Beck, having to see him again, maybe talk to him again, he just wanted to move on, to forget he ever existed. His eyes burned and he closed them, trying to get his breath under control, but he could feel his hands shaking. “Please, please, don’t make me –“

“Hey, no, no, no.” Tony gathered him in his arms, rubbing his shoulders in a soothing way. “I’m sorry, no, I would never force you to do anything, okay? It’s your choice.” He cupped his face in his hands again, peppering kisses on his cheeks and forehead. Peter started calming down slowly, and even laughed a little when the man’s beard tickled his nose. “You know that I see you, right? And I mean I see you, Peter Parker, not the persona in the videos or the pictures, and you sure seem pretty fucking human to me, kid. You know that, right?” Tony kept holding his head in between his hands, forcing Peter to look back at him, which wasn’t necessary, he couldn’t look away if he tried.

He smiled, nodding slowly, leaning in to kiss his lips. The older man lay back down, pulling him along, until they were back to their original position. He rested his head on Tony’s chest and closed his eyes, sighing in relief.

He felt Tony wrap his arms around his waist, holding him tight, and he thought to himself that if heaven looked like Tony making breakfast in the morning and tasted like his cooking in the evening, it certainly felt like holding him at night.

-x-

Tag list (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the list):  @sadachmesarthim @iamnotparticularlyproud @staticwhispersinthedark @bluestarker

Sorry for the long chapter, guys, it really got away from me 🥴 Only four more chapters to goo ✨✨

[blueskrugs]

Four Times Fate Brought You to Vince Dunn, and One Time You Found Him on Purpose

I wrote this simultaneously with another Vince 4+1 (coming tomorrow, hopefully!) and yelled to @captainpetty​ and Erin​ about them constantly. Sorry guys. 

length: 3k words

An Accident You met Vince Dunn for the first time in an emergency room in St. Louis. Normally you worked the pediatric floor, and not on the night shift, but sometimes you floated to the general emergency room for an extra shift because, well, money is money.

You liked pediatrics because dealing with kids was far easier than adults, in your opinion, even when parents could sometimes be just as difficult as a screaming toddler. But at least screaming toddlers could be calmed down with the promise of a sticker or a lollipop. 

“Hey, can you pick up the new guy that just came in?” one of the other nurses asked as she breezed past you to handle one of her patients. “I think they said something about him being important around here.”

“Being important” meant that, when you pulled the curtain back to face your newest patient, you came face-to-face with a very drunk Vince Dunn and a significantly less drunk Colton Parayko. You simply raised an eyebrow and moved over to the computer to start charting.

“I’m not really sure I want to know what happened here, but I think I have to ask,” you said, trying to ignore the fact that you were pretty sure Vince was whispering to Colton about you.

“Is there any way, like, our training staff-”

“And Petro!”

“God, yeah, and Petro, won’t find out about this? Because I wasn’t supposed to let anything happen to him, and we have a game tomorrow,” Colton finished. 

That really didn’t answer your question, and you weren’t sure how anything that brought the two of them into an ER after midnight was going to be easily hidden for a game the next night. You turned then, properly looked at the boys, took in Vince sitting on the bed with his feet swinging above the ground like a child. His shirt was a little wet with what was probably beer, and, when you looked closer, blood. His left hand was wrapped in a bar rag–that you really hoped had been clean when they got it–that was definitely blood-stained. 

Colton explained to you, as you started an IV in Vince’s right arm and cleaned the gash in his palm that would definitely need stitches, that they had gone out in spite of their captain telling them it was a bad idea. Vince had had one beer too many and had ended up on a table, then fell off the table, catching his fall on someone’s pint of beer. By the way Vince winced when you moved his hand around to clean it, you were pretty sure his wrist sprained, too.

You hovered a bit as one of the ER doctors came in and checked out Vince’s hand and wrist. Vince was quiet, but you could feel him watching you as you fidgeted around the small room. By the time everything was ready for him to be sent home, he was definitely more sober himself, but that also meant he was lucid enough to be embarrassed about how he ended up in the ER. You watched as Colton led him out of the ER and to a waiting Uber, and you wondered just how the hell they were planning on hiding his hand from everyone the next day.

At a Bar The second time you met Vince Dunn was, somewhat ironically, in a bar. You had seen him as soon as you walked in, laughing with some of his teammates in the corner, but you diligently ignored him as you headed to the bar with your friend to get a drink. Why would he remember some random ER nurse from over a month ago, when he had been drunk? You shook your head, determined to ignore the loud hockey boys in the corner and have a good night yourself. 

You had been at the bar almost an hour and had done a pretty good job of ignoring and avoiding the hockey players in the corner. You headed over to the bar for a second drink, when you felt a hand press against your lower back. You tensed, twisting around as much as you could in the crowded bar to see who was behind you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” Vince said, but he didn’t move his hand. He raised his left hand to get the attention of the bartender, and you saw the flash of a still-healing scar on his palm, pink even in the dim light of the bar. “You were that nurse from the ER, yeah? I never thanked you for taking care of my drunk ass that night.” He smiled, then, wide and genuine, hand still warm against the small of your back, and you relaxed a little bit. 

You were surprised that he recognized you. You’d heard stories of the younger players on the Blues wheeling multiple girls at once; you vaguely wondered how they kept track of them, much less a nobody nurse he’d met once. 

You didn’t say that, though, just smiled back at him as the bartender slid two beers in front of you. You reached into your pocket to pay but Vince grabbed your wrist.

“Nah, this one’s on me. Said I had to thank you, didn’t I?” he told you. You tried not to think about how green his eyes were up close. 

You shook yourself again; you didn’t need this. You didn’t need this. Besides, how many more times could you run into Vince Dunn?

In Enemy Territory It was in Pittsburgh, of all places, when you saw Vince Dunn again. One of your brothers had moved out there for work, and you were visiting him for a week, helping out with babysitting his kids, hanging with your sister-in-law. You hadn’t even thought to check the Blues’ schedule; you had no idea they were on a road trip to play the Penguins. 

You were standing in line at a Starbucks, your two-year-old nephew balanced on your hip, your sister-in-law still outside with the other kids.  You heard the door open behind you, and a loud group came in, but now you were focused on ordering before the toddler you were carrying decided he got bored and threw a tantrum. You were struggling to reach your card one handed when someone else reached past you.

“Add it to ours,” the voice belonging to the arm said. You spun, only to see Colton Parayko looking down at you with a smile. You looked over his shoulder to see several of his teammates shoving each other playfully in line. That would explain the loud group you’d heard come in. Colton was introducing himself to the two year old you were carrying, but you were still watching his teammates. Vince caught your eye from where he was trying to put Jordan Kyrou in a headlock and grinned, immediately letting go of Rouzy. You smiled back, a little caught off guard. 

You stepped to the side as you waited.  Before long, you were joined by Vince, both of you trying to ignore the catcalls from his other teammates. 

“And who’s this little guy?” Vince cooed, actually ignoring you aside from a quick smile. You raised an eyebrow a little bit at his baby-voice.

Your nephew tucked his face into your neck, suddenly shy. “Oh, come on now,” you said to him. “This is Jake, he’s my brother’s youngest,” you explained to Vince. Vince continued to talk to your nephew in that same high, gentle voice, until he was giggling and chattering right back. The barista called your name, and Jake picked that moment to decide he was done being patient and started fussing, very close to crying and screaming. You couldn’t balance two drinks and two sandwiches as well as a fidgeting toddler, and you groaned. 

“Here give him to me,” Vince said, reaching out to take him before you could protest. Jake settled immediately, and you glared at him a little. You could hear Vince talking to him more as you scrambled to pick up all of your order. He followed you outside, and you ignored the interested stares of the rest of the guys. 

He continued to hold Jake as you handed off your sister-in-law’s half of the order, stood there to chat with her and the other kids, long after Sammy came out with Vince’s drink. He used the same voice he had used to befriend Jake on the other two kids, but he talked and laughed with you and Sarah in the next breath, even teasing her for the Pens shirt she was wearing. 

You were doing your best not to think about how that voice was making you melt every time he used it. His teammates eventually dragged him away to get back to the hotel before the game, but not before Vince talked you into exchanging phone numbers. 

You tried telling yourself that you were never going to use it. 

In a Grocery Store You were pretty sure the universe was laughing at you at this point. Your mom had invited herself over for dinner, and you had nothing in your apartment to cook. Which meant you rushed to a grocery store on your lunch break, and you ended up at a different one than you usually went to because it was closer to work.

Why couldn’t all grocery stores be laid out the same? You were trying very hard to make it look like you weren’t turning in circles as you tried to find everything you were looking for when your phone buzzed. You pulled it out with a huff, fully expecting it to your mom again, but instead the name on your screen read, “Vince Dunn.” 

You paused. It had been nearly another month since Pittsburgh, and neither one of you had texted the other one. You were (mostly) perfectly content with leaving it that way, but clearly Vince had other ideas. The screen had gone dark, but it lit up again, reminding you it was there. You read the text, the simple words “you look a little lost.” With that you spun around, and, sure enough, Vince was standing a couple feet behind you, leaning against a shelf with a smirk on his face.

“I don’t have time for this,” you said, turning back around and starting to push your cart in a direction that hopefully ended in pasta. 

“Hey, wait,” Vince said, taking a couple annoyingly long steps to catch up to you and put a hand on your cart to stop you. “Lemme help. It’ll be faster. I’ve been watching you walk in circles for like ten minutes.” You blushed as he smirked again, but his eyes were soft. 

You wanted so badly to just push past Vince, forget you had ever met him, and then met him again and again, delete his number from your phone, but you also knew he was right; he would probably get you out of this damned grocery store a lot faster than you could probably manage on your own, and maybe you really wanted to spend a little time with him, too. 

So you sighed, handed Vince the list you had scribbled on the back of a gas receipt, and let him lead you around the grocery store. He let you rant about your mom, and then about work, only pausing to offer opinions on the food he was putting in your cart. After a while, you realized you had actually managed to get everything on your list, but now Vince was wandering aimlessly around the store, sneaking junk food into your cart. You raised an eyebrow as you watched him slip a package of cookie mix behind the box of pasta. He looked up at you as you leaned on the cart handle, sheepish now that he’d been caught.

“What?I like snickerdoodles,” he said in defense.

You shook your head and pulled the package out of the cart. “I can make better snickerdoodles from scratch, dude.” You looked closer at everything in your cart. “And I don’t like jalapeno Cheetos,” you said, throwing the bag at Vince.

“Is that a promise on the snickerdoodles?” Of course he focused on that.

“I don’t know, maybe. Now go put the damn Cheetos back.”

Vince laughed. You willed yourself to focus on getting out of the store and home to cook dinner, not just kissing Vince in the middle of the baking aisle. 

“Don’t knock ‘em until you try ‘em. Thommer’s gotten the whole team addicted at this point,” Vince told you over his shoulder as he went to put the Cheetos back from wherever he found them. You turned around and headed back in what you thought was the direction of checkout. Vince found you again as you stood in line. You had honestly thought the whole Cheetos thing would be the end of this interaction with him, but apparently not. 

“Don’t you have your own grocery shopping to do?” you asked, realizing just how much time Vince had spent with you in the store. “Instead of helping some random girl?” you added, allowing the insecurity you were suddenly feeling slip into your voice. 

Vince started putting your groceries on the conveyor belt. “Nah, Sammy just wanted some snacks, and he can wait.”

You let Vince load the rest of your stuff onto the belt, you didn’t let him pay–though he fought you on that one for several minutes–and you let him walk with you to your car and put all of your groceries in the trunk.

You were halfway home before you thought to wonder if he actually went back and got snacks for Sammy. 

At a Hockey Game When your best friend texted you and asked if you wanted to go to a Blues game with her, you didn’t hesitate to say yes. You had grown up a hockey fan, had found Hannah in high school, and there you two were, years later, still yelling about the Blues over texts and phone calls and in person. Your eagerness had absolutely nothing to do with Vince Dunn. 

You also didn’t hesitate to snap a picture of your ticket and send it to Vince after Hannah handed it to you. You didn’t really think he’d see it so close to puck drop, but you still regretted it as soon as the tiny little “sent” appeared underneath the picture. 

The game was exciting, and the Blues won, which helped distract you from the anxiety you were feeling over Vince. Mostly. Until he scored a goal, and his eyes swept the sea of blue in Enterprise Center, and, for a split second, you let yourself think he was looking for you. 

Until after the game, when you and Hannah were getting up to leave, and an usher appeared next to you, saying your name and telling you to follow her. Getting down below the arena was a blur of people and security, being given neon wristbands and convincing people that, “Yes, I was invited down here by a player, I belong down here,” even if you didn’t really believe that second part was true. 

You both hovered awkwardly in the doorway to the room where all of the WAGs and kids were waiting, and suddenly you regretted wearing your Parayko jersey just a little bit. You were thankful to have your friend next to you, though, and you explained the whole grocery store thing to her while you waited. You were starting to debate leaving, telling everyone that, yeah, actually, letting you down into the tunnels was a mistake, that you have no business being there, when you’re wrapped up in a hug suddenly, and there’s Vince, freshly-showered and back in his suit– and this is new, but it’s nice and you let yourself relax into the hug.

Vince pulled back, and he was smiling at you and introducing himself to Hannah, and Colton was standing behind him with a matching smile. You remembered the 55 sprawled across your back, and you knew Colton saw it, but then he was wrapping his arm around your shoulder and didn’t say anything about it.

You weren’t so lucky with Vince. “I’ve gotta get you a new jersey,” he said. You just rolled your eyes and shrugged. 

“I’ll sign that one for you,” Colton whispered. 

Vince and Colton started arguing over that, and you were starting to think that this is something you could get used to, since this was apparently your new normal, when Alex Pietrangelo comes over to your little group, and you were reminded a little just how not normal this was for you. 

“Is this the nurse Dunner won’t shut up about?” Petro asked Colton, who nodded over your head. “You really freaked him out when you texted him before the game,” Petro was talking again, this time to you. “We thought he was gonna go out into the stands to find you himself.”

You laughed, more at the bright blush that was spreading over Vince’s cheeks. “What happened to ‘Petro can’t find out about this?’” you asked.

“That went out the window pretty fast,” Colton told you.

“And I don’t know how you ever thought you could hide eight stitches in your hand and a sprained wrist from me,” Petro added.

“You should have heard him after we saw you in Pittsburgh. He kept looking for you at the game that night, too.” 

You smiled up at Vince, who was blushing all the way up his ears now, but he just wrapped his arm around your shoulders and buried his face in your hair. Yeah, you could definitely get used to that. You elbowed him in the ribs a little bit, but his arm just tightened around your shoulders. 

He and Colton walked you and Hannah back to your car outside the arena, Colton chirping Vince relentlessly the whole way.

Vince grabbed your hand before you could get in your car. “I’ll text you, yeah?” He looked unsure, which was probably the first time you’d ever seen him nervous around you. “Sammy won’t stop asking me when you’re baking us cookies.”

“I don’t remember saying anything about baking Sammy Blais cookies,” you laughed. “Text me when your next day off is, and we’ll see about those cookies.” And then, because apparently you couldn’t stop doing impulsive things tonight, you pushed up on your toes to kiss Vince on the cheek before climbing into the car.

Your phone vibrated in your cupholder less than five minutes later, and you knew without checking that it was Vince. 

[mearcatsreturns]

15 for Abby/Luka

For reasons ;)

Under a cut because it's long.

July 2003

To: Luka Kovac <“croatdoctor65@aol.com”>

From: Abby Lockhart <“nursefirecracker@yahoo.com”>

Subject: I’m drowning and praying ghosts are real

Dear Luka,

Something about knowing that I’ll never talk to you again is just unbearable. I’ll never laugh at your malapropisms, look into your beautiful eyes, feel your strong hands holding mine, or make love to you again. There won’t be any more jokes about jam and cheese on toast, or you teasing me for my weak but constant supply of coffee. I’ll never hear your amazing, deranged laughter after you prank someone again. No more of your hugs—which are somehow the best hugs in the world. Because you’re gone.

It’s been three days since we got the call telling us you died thousands of miles from home, whether that’s here in Chicago or in Croatia. I didn’t know your dad’s name, Luka. We needed to call him, and I didn’t know. How did I not know? And now I can’t. I mean, L’Alliance told us his name, but the fact that I’ll never learn pieces of your history, of the wonderful man you are, FROM you...how am I supposed to go on and live my life?

For years, I’ve thought medicine was my great thwarted love. I’ve wanted to be a doctor for so long, and I thought I was bitter about having to let go of that dream. Now I wonder. I let obstacles get in the way of pursuing medicine, and it’s made me...well, it’s part of why I was so unhappy. But that makes me think about how I also let obstacles get in the way of us. I was happy with you, you know, until I let fear and my mother and Carter get in the way. God, I wish I could do that over again. We could have had everything, and if I hadn’t gotten in my own way, I’d be happy. I think maybe I could have made you happy, too.

It’s funny. I knew things with Carter weren’t working, and he implied you were part of it. I said it wasn’t, but then five minutes later, I found out you were—are—dead. And I realized you were the reason, or one of the big ones. As soon as Chuny told me, I knew I loved you and had loved you for years. Yeah. Great timing, isn’t it? I keep thinking that maybe I could have kept you from going if I had known or if I had told you. I didn’t want you to go when I thought you were my very attractive friend and ex that I still was fond of. Knowing that I love you—how do I move past that? Knowing that I lost you, first to my stupidity and then to death?

I just...I miss you, and I don’t when I’ll stop, or how to. Susan caught me crying on my last shift, and I didn’t even know what to say. I feel like I’ve been crying or standing still, brittle and stuck in time, since I heard the news. I can’t, Luka. I know I have to keep on moving, and I thought maybe writing you would help. I know you’ll never see this, never have a chance to respond. But the idea that some fragments of your soul linger and can maybe sense...I don’t know. That I’m writing? What I’m feeling? Jesus, this is crazy.

All my love,

Abby

Abby angrily swipes the tears from her eyes. God, what’s the point of writing this? He’ll never see hsi email or her again. Just...without Luka, how can the world be anything but grim and sad and pointless?

She laughs mirthlessly. Maybe it doesn’t matter. No, she knows it doesn’t. Because Abby knows the futility of it, aches with the meaninglessness, she presses send without another thought.

&&&

Three days after that, a miracle occurs. Luka, the Lazarus of this new millennium, comes back from the dead. He’s never been dead, and maybe, Abby thinks, there’s a God above after all. So many people wish for this exact boon, and she—they, the world—gets it. Some higher power believes this planet is a better place with Luka Kovac in it, and Abby is ecstatic.

Until she remembers the email and that they can’t be unsent.

It’s fine. She’ll be fine. Luka is coming back, apparently with a French nurse. Maybe he’ll just delete it without reading it. Maybe it didn’t go through—how does email work for the dead, and how quickly is all that processed?

Abby shakes her head. It doesn’t matter; Luka is alive and returning to them. She can handle a little awkwardness in the face of the sheer joy of knowing the world is a brighter, kinder place. He’s coming back, and that’s what’s important.

&&&

August 2003

It takes Luka almost a week after returning to Chicago to convince Kerry and the other staff to let him go back to his apartment. Even so, they only agree when Gillian assures them she’ll see to his every need.

Abby winces when she hears that, and it makes something flutter in Luka’s chest. Which probably isn’t good for his malaria, but the hope...that is.

It’s another two days of lying in bed before he has the energy to ask Gillian to bring him his laptop. At this point, it’s been months since he’s checked his email, and Luka grimaces at the undoubtedly horrible state of his inbox. He briefly considers never checking again and just getting a new one, but he knows his father struggled to add him to his contacts once already. To expect it of him again would be absurd.

With a sigh, Luka opens his email. It’s just as bad as he feared. He snorts at the myriad messages about Viagra, Nigerian princes, and Russian brides, deleting them without thought. He saves a couple from his dad. He slowly whittles down his inbox, but he freezes when he gets to one email in particular, sent about a month ago.

It’s from Abby, during the time everyone thought he was dead.

Luka considers calling and asking her if someone hacked her email or is sending spam from her account, but the subject line...it looks real. And Abby’s been odd around him lately, seeming both deliriously happy to see him and awkwardly nervous.

His heart pounds, and he clicks to open it. If this is a spammer, they’re probably about to get whatever they want.

&&&

Abby pours herself another coffee, internally swearing as she prepares for the last two hours of her shift. Deciding to go back to school is great; having to coordinate all the details is less thrilling and leaves her tired and cranky.

Frank ducks his head into the lounge, beady eyes narrowing on her. “Hey, Abby. The Croat is on the phone for you. Line 2. Try to get back out there as fast as you can, Weaver’s yelling at the med students about IVs.”

“Okay, Frank,” Abby says, though she flushes and her palms start to sweat. It’s fine. She can always hide the panic and butterflies in her stomach with sarcasm. It has yet to fail her.

Frank gives her one last suspicious look, then nods and heads back to Admit.

Abby takes a deep breath, then picks up the phone. “Hey, Luka?”

“It’s me. Glad I could reach you. How are you?” He sounds...ugh. So good. And eager and happy, and her heart could leap right out of her chest.

“Doing all right. I just have a couple hours left on this shift, and it hasn’t been too awful today. Only one MVA. How about you? You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Recovering. Listen, did you want to come over for dinner?”

“Please tell me you’re not trying to cook.”

“What? I’m a good cook, even if you don’t appreciate wonderful, traditional Croatian dishes,” he says with a chuckle.

“Luka, you just got out of the hospital five days ago. You still need to be resting.”

“Abby, don’t worry so much. I was just kidding. I have some sandwiches from Manny’s, and Anna sent me home with lots of matzo ball soup too.”

Abby bites her lip. Of course she wants to go. But the prospect of spending the evening with Gillian cooing over Luka, knowing that she shares a bed with him, is decidedly less appealing. And there’s the email she sent, which Luka hasn’t acknowledged. He might well have deleted it, or he’s giving her a gracious out.

Her conscience twinges as soon as she thinks about bailing, though. Didn’t she promise herself she wouldn’t take life for granted anymore? She’ll go back to med school, she’ll have dinner with Luka when he asks.

“Abby?”

She starts, realizing she needs to respond. “Yeah, sorry. Yeah, I can do that. I can be there an hour after my shift, if that’s okay.”

“Sounds great. Looking forward to seeing you.”

“Me too.” He has no idea how much, even if she wishes she knew for sure that he’d deleted the email.

&&&

Abby rings Luka’s doorbell three and a half hours later. She’d meant to come straight from work, but after a patient vomited on her, she decided to head home, shower, and splurge on a taxi to Luka’s. The poor man is recovering from being deathly ill and doesn’t need County’s fumes making things worse.

There’s the sound of the deadbolt sliding, and Luka answers the door, grinning happily at her. “Good, you made it! Come on in!”

“I did. Sorry it took me longer than expected.” Abby steps into his apartment, looking around. It’s been such a long time since she’s been here, and she notes the subtle changes in the art and decor.

“No worries. I know how it goes.” He places a hand at the small of her back, guiding her inside.

Abby stiffens for a second at how his touch burns even through the layers of her shirt and light jacket, but she relaxes, enjoying the feel while she waits for Gillian to appear and end the fleeting joy.

Luka is unfazed. “Now, of course we can just eat the sandwiches, but if you want to heat up the matzo ball soup, you can. Since you don’t want me standing,” he says with a wink.

Abby smiles back, shaking her head. “Oh, I see how it is. Make the woman who worked all day do more household work when she gets ho—wait, where’s Gillian? Isn’t she supposed to be taking care of you?”

“She’s not here,” he says simply.

Going to the fridge and taking out the containers of soup, Abby places them in the microwave. Is Gillian out for the evening, or is she gone gone? “Shouldn’t you be with her? Or her here with you, whatever.”

Luka is quiet for a long minute, and Abby wonders if he intends to answer. Finally, he breaks the silence. “I asked her to leave.”

Abby’s pulse speeds up. “What? Why?”

Luka takes a deep breath, clearly ready to respond, and—

The microwave dings, and they both jump. Exchanging a sheepish look, they laugh.

“Look, let’s get some food, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Abby dishes up their soup and sandwiches, preparing trays so they can sit on the couch. Luka turns on the television, and Abby’s heart rate comes back under control. They sit together in companionable silence while they eat and watch Thom and Jai and the rest of the Fab 5 whip some hapless lawyer’s life into order. When they finish their meal, Abby cleans up, taking the trays back to the kitchen.

She heads back to the couch at the opposite end from Luka, not daring to get closer when she really has no idea what’s going on.

Luka clears his throat and mutes the TV. “So, yeah. I asked Gillian to leave.”

“Oh. So, um, did you break up?”

“She was never my girlfriend, really. She has a boyfriend back in Montreal, they just…” Luka shrugs and runs a hand through his hair.

Abby is more lost than ever. “Ah.”

Taking a deep breath, Luka continues, finally looking over at her. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful she helped me get here and took care of me, but we were never serious.”

Something starts to tug at Abby’s heart, squeezing and twisting and kicking to get free. Is it...hope? “Well, I’m glad she got you here safe, but you should have someone staying with you while you recover, Luka. Malaria is dangerous.”

He gives her a look. “I know how dangerous malaria is. I’m getting better. And besides, it wouldn’t have been fair for me to ask her to stay when things are over because I’m in love with someone else.”

Her heart leaps into her throat. “Someone else?” she squeaks.

Luka nods, swallowing. “Yeah. And I have a reason to think she might be in love with me too.” He slides over to her side of the couch, reaching for her hand.

Abby meets his eyes—those beautiful green eyes that are the best color in the world—and squeezes his hand, incapable of words. Does he mean…?

With his other hand, Luka reaches up and cups her cheek, running his thumb along the subtle arch of her cheekbone. “Abby, if you’ve changed your mind since you sent that email, please tell me to shut up.”

That stupid, ridiculous email might be the best thing she’s ever done in her life. She leans into his hand, licking her lips as she shakes her head slightly. “I haven’t changed my mind. I didn’t mean for you to see it and hoped I could learn how to hack computers and delete it but—”

Luka cuts her off. “I would never forgive you if you managed to delete it. You wouldn’t believe how much faster I healed after that.”

Abby leans forward, sliding into Luka’s waiting arms. “Then maybe I’ll write you some more emails.”

“Emails aren’t what I want right now,” Luka says.

Funny, Abby doesn’t either. Then his lips brush hers, and all her worries and fears fade away. She knows she has to tell him about med school and he needs to finish recuperating, but when Luka deepens their kiss and pulls her closer, Abby ceases to think at all.

She has Luka back, and now they have each other again.

[ussjellyfish]

Felix’s birth story

So I never wrote this out after he was born, or last year, and this year, my little gentleman is 2, and it seems like the time to tell it.

So, Felix’s birth story under the cut. (unmedicated vaginal delivery, really almost boring).

Felix’s due date was January 14th, and he was born on January 14th. I went for a walk the night before, and it was cold, really cold (-25C ish), and really beautiful and icy.

After midnight I had contractions, and I don’t think I could have said what a contraction was before I had them, but when I had them, it was obvious. (so that was nice!)

And they didn’t hurt at first, they were kind of consuming and tight and I couldn’t sleep through them. I did try to sleep. I lay there in the dark and listened to Drastic Measures (Star Trek Discovery) on audiobook because I had that on my phone and it didn’t take any effort.

My cats came and slept on me and it was actually kind of nice (but weird, intimidating because at some point it was going to hurt and be more intense and I wasn’t quite ready and when do you actually go to the hospital (I didn’t want to go early and be bored).

My water broke at around 430am, and it was weirdly just like they tell you. A pop kind of and gush, like I’d suddenly peed my pants without feeling like peeing.

I got up, I took off my pajamas, I put towels on my bed and then I couldn’t sleep anymore. I hadn’t bothered to time anything, I hadn’t looked at my phone, and I remember leaning on his crib, dancing around a little because they were pretty tight and wondering if I should use the contraction timer (which I hadn’t even looked at but I did have on my phone).

So I did that for about half an hour and I remember staring at the times thinking “these are too close together, I should wait until they are further apart and then go” They’d said around 5 minutes apart, you could head in.

Mine were three minutes or less apart then, and they lasted almost a minute. They hurt, a little, like my whole belly was tightening up and almost bouncing down? Very weird. Truly a unique experience.

So I woke up my mom after 5 and told her to walk the dog. She was staying with me with her rather annoying dog and my mom’s rather annoying so I wasn’t thrilled. We already had the car seat in the car and I had a bag (which included my star trek robe, always a good choice).

Mom was kind of skeptical, I guess because I wasn’t in that much pain. It did hurt, now, like the worst menstrual cramps I’d ever had and kind of bigger (I suppose my uterus was a lot bigger). It was cold and my mom was complaining about my car (I needed the brakes fixed) and we listened to classical music on the radio because she was grumpy.

It was after 6 when we got to the hospital, and we walked in and I remember in the parking lot was the first contraction I couldn’t walk through. I just stood there because it really hurt and if I was still, it was fine. And then you fill out paperwork and they offered me a wheelchair, which I didn’t want. Then they send me into a room to get checked and I took my clothes off and I was so wet, fluid was leaking and it just keep leaking and I was sweaty and they put a monitor on me and made me sit on the bed

Which sucked. Holding still sucked, sitting sucked and then they did an internal exam which was really uncomfortable and one of the women from my labor class had been sent home because she wasn’t in labor enough, and I was worried, because going home sounded so annoying.

I was at 8 centimeters, so I did not have to go home and the stupid monitor said Felix was fine. (stupid monitor). So we walked to the delivery room, which had purple lights, and I wanted to take a bath SO much and they wouldn’t let me because of the monitor. (my monitor hatred is strong).

My doula came, and she was awesome awesome. I hadn’t met her before and I didn’t get the one I thought I’d have because I was apparently so close they sent the faster one who lived closer. We changed positions a lot and wandered around and I remember basically peeing on the floor because I didn’t have to pee that much and they also weren’t that keen on mme going to the toilet. I don’t know why. They just put towels on the floor and it was fine.

My doctor was a 2nd year resident, and we were his second continuity of care delivery (where he’d been my prenatal too). He’s very sweet and enthusiastic. The teaching doc we got is this very calm Asian woman with small hands and really pretty hair. She came in around 8 because then I could push.

They made me lie down, which was annoying. They were worried about Felix being too big because I had gestational diabetes (mild and a huge point of contention because they just made everything hell).

I had to hold my legs and pushing is just the strangest movement because it’s muscles you usually don’t use. The light was bright over the bed and I did swear a few times, or yell, because it hurt and it was more just...frustrating and exhausting because it hurt and then it would still hurt and I did the right things but he would get closer and then go back.

I remember them wanting me to push with every contraction and there was one where I just took a break. Screw you guys.

I never really felt the bearing down they talk about. I thought I’d hit somewhere when I wanted to push and I didn’t. My hand hurt because the stupid IV was doing something. I had to hold on to my legs and that was annoying.

They decided they needed to do an episiotomy, and I’m still kind of bitter about this because we didn’t try changing positions (my doula did ask I was just not in the position to argue or advocate).

That part is really strange. I didn’t have any fight. I was tired, sure, but I was really agreeable. I’m told this is hormones too.

The umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck and kind of short, so I’d push him down and it would pull him back up. So they numbed me up (getting the needles in for that hurt) and my teaching doc did the cutting and then I pushed once and he just fell out.

He was just there, and damn, not being pregnant anymore feels really great. Kind of empty, but you’re so bendy-flexible- not under any tension anymore. It’s great.

And the placenta was nothing. It just kind of squelched out. It did look cool.

He had chubby arms and a chubby face and he was totally fine. I held him for a bit, he was not interested in eating, so they weighed him and gave him a hat and a heel poke and they stiched up the episiotomy.

That hurt, and my student doc was doing the stitches and he went outside the anesthetic for a few stitches and damn. I remember saying fuck a few times.  I also got to get up to pee and I had one nurse called Katie who had been there and two more had come in at the end and they didn’t want to let me up, but I stood up just fine.

My nurse Katie said I hadn’t had an epidural and I think that was rather rare because they were surprised I could just walk.

And I was tired, like I’d been running or swimming or climbing, something really full body exhausting, but it didn’t hurt really.

We moved to the other room and Felix and I watched CNN and eventually we worked out how to get the boob in his mouth (more of it than I thought had to go in there).

and it was really boring. My mom stayed and my dad came and...it was still boring. Felix was very cute and cuddly and he wanted boob and snuggles and I remember changing his diapers and holding him (those funny sticky black new baby diapers) and he just wanted to be held all the time, and we atched pointless television because they won’t just let you go home.

I got ibuprofen and paracetemol and pancakes. I had pancakes right after he was born because I was so hungry.

And chocolate pudding and they were terrible pancakes but, I was hungry.

They made me pee in a weird upside down hat thing that went on the toilet a few times and then they left me alone.

It was very alone. I remember holding him in the bath in his blanket because I wanted a bath but I didn’t want him to get lonely and cry so I couldn’t grab him.

I was so sleep deprived and they don’t want you hold him in bed and fall asleep so he went down and back and down and back and I did eventually just give up and hold him and sleep.

He was also a perfect size. We went home the next day, which was too long in the hospital, especially after I got released at 1pm and he didn’t get out until 7pm because he was a little yellow. (he bounced back fine, but was a little yellow at first)

Then we went home, and watched Discovery and the Witcher and Korean zombie dramas and I ate so much chocolate peanut butter pretzels. My Doula came to visit, and we talked and I remember thinking kind of in a shellshocked way that I was really annoyed they made me push on my back and I couldn’t do anything about it.

It’s actually not a good position! It goes against the spine and I had my feet in stirrups and I had a nasty bruise on my hand from my IV (that I also didn’t need, they just ran saline the whole time) and my pinkie finger was all tingly (that took weeks to get back to normal).

And all the “you just had a baby” advice is totally crap if you’re single. Let someone else...do the dishes cook for you do...

No, you do ALL the things and baby, and change diapers in the middle of the night and feed them (constantly, it’s so constant).

And take the kiddo to get his blood checked when it’s -35C outside. (poor little guy, he was fine, didn’t even need the light jacket). And get weighed (he was getting plenty of milk and chubbed up fast).

But newborns have no personality. (in my opinion They don’t even really ‘like’ you. You feed them and you make them comfortable and they sleep, and sleep, and snuggle.

Star Trek got me through a lot those first couple months until he was big enough to know I was there (like actually know me)

[babysizedfics]

I need to know about doctor mama lo taking care of a sick baby Virgil if you would like pretty please. I dont wanna ask on the in character blog cuz I feel like it would be weird to ask for details and lo seems kinda busy anyway lol.

hey tumblebee!! yeah yeah lets do this, Im gonna write it so that ppl who dont follow the other blog can understand too

WARNING IF U HAVENT ALREADY BLOCKED THE TAGS ILLNESS TW AND VOMIT TW THEY ARE VERY PREVALENT IN THIS

also this is a VERY long headcanon!!

so last night vee got ill, he had been regressed in the afternoon with patton and he was acting much more fussy than usual - not being entertained by his cartoons, not having the energy to play with his rattle, pretty much constantly whining and pouting and he gets very wriggly when he's fussy

patton assumed it was because vee had been upset earlier that day. at one point vee started gripping his stomach, and patton assumed its because he was hungry and could smell the food roman was cooking

but when dinner came around no matter how hard patton tried he couldnt get vee to eat a morsel - he kept turning his head away from the food and whining. at one point patton and logan both managed to convince him to eat a spoonful but his face crumpled with a wince and it looked almost painful for him to swallow it. it was at this point logan noticed he had a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead

things fell into place quickly after that - logan checked his temperature and it was indeed slightly higher than was healthy, they noticed vee's hands were trembling and he was constantly on the verge of tears :(

while patton cleared away dinner and excused roman who wanted to go and craft in his room, logan took vee to his bedroom and tried to check for more symptoms, since vee was non verbal and unresponsive totheir questions. he tested his tummy by pushing it a little to see if the pain got worse when he released it (this is a test for appendicitis) but there was no reaction thankfully except vee being upset by logan not cuddling him. he checked his throat for any redness or infection, nothing.

vee's crying became more pronounced and eventually he was in constant tears, occassionally pleading 'mama mama' through sniffles and hiccups and whines of pain :(( Patton brought him a baby bottle of cooled tea made with fresh mint leaves since that is supposed to help stomach pains. though he left the room again since logan thought it was best not to crowd virgil. Vee's crying had dissipated but he was strangely silent and seemed almost loopy now. he only drank a little of the tea before he pushed it away with a gag.

logan immediately took him to the bathroom knowing what was coming, and sure enough vee threw up into the toilet, crying between gags. logan dutifully managed to keep vee in his lap the whole time and held his hair and rubbed his back, telling him he was such a good boy the whole time

Thankfully it didnt last long as there wasnt much in vees stomach to be emptied. he was shivering and sweating and flushed and had lost all energy. he wasnt even crying anymore, just whimpering under his breath. with a bit of a struggle logan managed to show him how to rinse his mouth out with mouthwash - though he had to hold vee over the sink and pat his back to make sure he didnt swallow it

during all of this patton wasnt able to help because of his heightened empathy, if he sees someone throwing up the likeihood is he will too and that wiuldnt be very helpful! so instead he drives to the store to pick up some medicine and ice pops - and comes back with half the store including some actual baby medicine smh - ((im actually begging u to read that linked post i think its so funny))

it was originallly meant to be logans night to put roman to bed but understandably patton took on that task instead. after roman was drifting off patton pokes his head into vee's room. he had hoped to find lo and vee asleep but they werent. they were lying in the dark with an in the night garden audio story playing on a portable speaker and with vees salt lamp and star night light lighting up the room in a soft glow.

logan offered a strained little smile and nod to patton as he stroked vee's hair and cuddled him close. vee was completely out of it honestly. his body was wholly lax against his mama, his lips were in a permanent pout and his eyes were puffy and wet. he barely even acknowledged his papa coming in, his teary eyes just settled on him for a moment then dropped back to the bedsheets without a reaction. he kept lifting his thumb up to suck on it but logan kept capturing it and apologising as he brought it away. Vee shouldnt suck on his thumb and logan doesnt want to give him a paci while he's ill. understandably, baby vee was completely miserable.

patton asks if logan thinks vee could handle a popsicle or plain crackers at the moment but logan disagrees. he doesnt expect either of them to get much sleep so he will make sure vee eats something in a few hours. with a gentle kiss on vee's forehead patton goes off to bed, confident that logan will be able to look after vee and will come get him if theres any issues

logan and vee really dont sleep much at all. Vee drifts off for a few minutes at a time then gasps awake from vivid fever dreams. logan keeps ice cubes in a bowl by the bed for vee to suck on if he needs to cool down and wraps a couple in a flannel to press to vee's head when his fever rises in the middle of the night.

around 3am logan jolts awake and realises he had drifted off. and vee isnt anywhere in the room. he panics momentarily, bolting up from the bed and dashing to the closet to see if virgil is in there - which he tends to do when he is overwhelmed - but then he hears sniffling from the bathroom.

he finds vee, no longer regressed, curled up against the side of the bathtub with his bangs clinging to his sweaty head. vee is the palest person logan knows but he looks positively grey at the moment

'can i help in any way?' he asks, aware that he doesnt need to baby talk at the moment but still eager to look after this bundle of miserableness

virgil just groans under his breath and clutches his knees to his chest. 'i.. i didnt know what to do with the..' he gestures vaguely to something on the floor

logan notices virgil, being not regressed anymore, had obviously wrestled off the diaper he had been changed into the night before and not known how to dispose of it

'its ok, ive got it' logan wraps it up in a bag and puts it in the trash can they have in the room for just this purpose

'sorry.. m stupid' virgil croaks

'You're not stupid.' logan says firmly as he washes his hands 'You're ill and probably delirious from the fever. it's alright virgil'

theres quiet for a bit longer, virge's head pressed against the porcelain edge of the bathtub likely in an attempt to cool his fever. logan stays there with him for a while just waiting. then suddenly virgil starts sobbing and buries his face in his hands.

'sweetheart, tell me whats wrong please' logan hurries to kneel beside him, lifting his hands away from his face. that wouldnt help the fever

'i dont feel well' virgil cries pathetically, tears rolling down his face.

logans heart breaks 'no, you dont. i'm sorry little one, i know its not nice'

at the nickname virgils thumb raises to his lips again, which logan hurriedly intercepts. 'i'll make you a deal, okay? you're allowed to use a pacifier, but you have to use the same one everyday until you are better. we will need to sterilise it every night too.'

vee sniffles and nods, then chokes 'm not a baby right now though'

'that doesnt matter. you dont need to be regressed to want one of your pacis, vee'

vee is unresponsive and starts scratching at his pyjama pants. logan gets a feeling he isnt saying something. then he notices virgil's pout is much more infantile than his adult ones. 'are you feeling little, baby?'

with a harsh shake of his head vee starts crying again. he whispers 'dont wanna be a b...' then cuts himself off and whimpers

logan cards his fingers through virgils damp bangs. he knows what virgils mind has jumped to. 'were you going to say you dont want to be a baby?' he lifts virgils chin up to look at him 'or that you dont want to be a burden?'

virgils pale lip wobbles 'same fing'

'no sweetheart, no no no,' logan sits on the tiles beside vee and pulls him into his lap. virgil goes willingly. logan rocks his baby as he says 'youre always always allowed to be a baby and its never ever going to upset your family. even if you're an adorable wonderful brave baby boy alllll of the time' he scribbles his finger on virgils rosy cheek and delights at the tiny smile it earns him. 'but especially when you're feeling yucky. you feel a bit yucky today dont you, little one?'

vee nods with a pout

'but yknow whats not yucky? softies and pacis and diapers and lots and lots of cuddles with mama' he holds virgil tighter to prove his point. vee sighs and drops his head to nuzzle against his mama's neck. logan feels he still has a slight fever. 'i know what might help you feel less yucky. does my sweet baby want a sweet ice pop?'

thankfully vee nods against his shoulder and grips tight onto his pyjama shirt, preparing for when logan lifts him up

he first makes sure to change vee into another diaper and even decides that he should wear one of mama's t-shirts as a light dress so he doesnt get as overheated by his pyjamas. at this point vee actually giggles for the first time pretty much all day as he feels the tshirt swish lazily around his legs. logan makes a mental note to observe whether little vee might want to try wearing dresses if the feeling sparks this much joy (at this point logan is unaware that vee has secretly been trying skirts and dresses in his room for months, and roman found out a few weeks ago, but vee isnt ready to tell the cgs yet)

by the time vee is in his diaper and mamas tshirt dress and has a paci and jiji clutched to his chest he is a lot calmer and happier. he's still very ill and exhausted and teary, but theres a tiny smile on his face instead of a pout. in the kitchen he picks a strawberry ice pop and it goes down well, logan convinces him to have a cracker too though vee is in such a young headspace by then that he is just sucking on it, which logan supposes is fine too

by the (real) morning vee is still regressed and has managed to have a couple hours undisturbed sleep. its not much but its better than nothing. logan didnt fare much better. by then vee misses his papa and asks for him and logan hands the responsibility over to papa patton, trustinf the other caregiver enough to catch up on a quick power nap himself

but yes, the main thing is vee thought being ill was a burden enough that he shouldnt be regressed too, but logan makes him see that its okay. vee is regressed pretty much the whole time he is ill over the next few days because its stressful and painful and its a lot easier to feel comforted when ur a baby

yeah! gosh that was long, theres probably a billion spelling mistakes! feel free to ask follow up Qs if i missed anything u wanted to know abt this event

[cherishedkids]

fight || tokito muichiro x reader

anime: kimetsu no yaiba  warning/s: sad, spoilers from the manga, mentions of injuries and character deaths words: 1,686 pairing/s: tokito muichiro x reader request: “Manga spoilers to the ppl who didnt read the manga!!! au where Tokito Muichiro lives and gets a happy ending with a gender neutral reader?” -anon

A/N: thank you to the anon who requested this!! gosh ive been writing so much muichiro lately 😳 i hope you enjoyed this!

The sun streams in, touching everything in its path. You were no stranger to its harsh nature, as you saw countless demons die by its hand. But as its rays touch your own face, you are reminded of a new day. A fresh path was open to you.

Muichiro lay on his back, bandages wrapped around his body. It had been a few months after the brush of death with Kokushibo. Thankfully, the gods saw fit to let him survive. The most that happened was the loss of his right leg and a coma right after. You knew his body needed time to heal, but you had no idea as to how long.

The first time you saw him in that state, you almost cried. Forget the noble cause of fighting for others, forget eradicating demons; he was ready to give himself up for the corps. Those who witnessed him fight the demon praised him for his bravery and abilities—those who were still alive, at least. Hundreds of thousands of his comrades had fallen before him, cursed to die in their work. You were scared for him, yes, but the passion in his eyes burned, and you knew that he’d do everything in his power to kick into gear the death of demons. It was especially present in the fight with the Upper Moon One. He was fine when he left you that night, but the next day, he came back to you, unconscious and battered.

But he survived. And he conquered death. So many times, he was close to dying. So many times, tears fell from eyes, worried sick. So many times, you prayed for him to be alright.

Everyday, for the past months, you waited for him to awaken. You needed a distraction—something to hold on to while Muichiro was not available. So after the first week, you decided to build your own house. It was difficult at first; finding free lands, contacting workers, and getting an architect to make plans for it, but it would be worth it in the end. You expected a lot going in. Money wasn’t a problem, as Ubuyashiki’s family was eager to help its demon slayers, but the stress of the project was big. You devoted yourself to it, as the fantasy of living a normal life with Muichiro gave you motivation. Even the finest of details—what polish to use, the type of wood, and even the lacquers, you paid attention to.

It was all for Muichiro. You had no idea the pain he felt as he laid there, thinking it might be his last moments. You wanted to alleviate that, if only a little, with a promise of a home after he wakes up. If he even wakes up.

The project was long done, the house sitting pristine atop a hill. It wasn’t grand—just enough for a couple to live in. But even so, Muichiro showed no signs of stirring.

Exhausted, you sat back down on your chair and waited patiently for him to open his eyes. The staff at the Butterfly Estate had looks of pity on you whenever you visited them everyday, but you were used to it. If you had no hope for him, then who else would? His flickering light needed someone to shield it, and if it took years, you were perfectly fine with that.

Again, his face lay in a peaceful state. The airy-ness that it exuded was nowhere to be seen. He was fine this way, he seemed happy. But you needed him awake.

For the umpteenth time, you reached across to hold his hand. If you could take away all the pain he had ever felt in his life, you would. He did not deserve this.

“Muichiro… please, get through this,”

Like all the other times, he didn’t reply. There were no tears to escape your eyes. They had already long dried out. You let out a sigh, but you never let go of his hand.

Maybe it was how the sun rose to the sky, carrying light with it. Maybe it was how the moon sank down below, yielding to the superior being. Maybe it was just the result of faith and months of prayers.

Muichiro’s hand intertwined with yours. The force of this wasn't lost on you. When you looked up, his blue eyes stared back at you, full of life and confusion.

“Muichiro!” You almost hugged him, but you weren’t sure if he was well enough for big commotions. You stood up, shaking from excitement. “Hold on, I’ll call Kanzaki—“

His hand doesn’t let go of you. “Please, stay with me for a while,”

You sit back down, ready to answer any of his questions.

“How long have I been… asleep?” This question, you’ve been anticipating.

“About five months,”

“And the others, what happened?”

You swallow the stone stuck in your throat. “Kokushibo died after you lost consciousness, and, well…”

It was clear from your demeanor, and Muichiro understood and nodded. “So they all died…?”

“Muzan was defeated,” At these words, he turned to you, eyes widened. “Tanjiro and his friends and the water hashira are the only ones left,”

“While I was asleep, huh,” You didn’t know what he meant by that.

“At least you’re here now!” He returned the smile you shot him and pressed your hand to his lips.

“Yes. With you.”

After calling Kanzaki Aoi to have a look at him, she deemed him fully recovered from his wounds. Muichiro expressed sadness when he saw his right leg… or lack thereof, but shrugged it off.

“It was the sacrifice I took to see you again,” He said, and your heart rejoiced at those words.

Tengen Uzui, Kamado Tanjiro and Nezuko, Shinazugawa Sanemi, and Tomioka Giyuu were there to greet him. He was one of the people who risked his lives, so naturally, they rejoiced at his awakening. Tengen Uzui welcomed him into his retired life, and pointed at his missing left hand.

“We’re kind of the same, aren’t we?” He laughs, and Muichiro can only smile at his joke.

Shinazugawa and Tomioka regard him, but only Tomioka brought a gift. It was a sword, as he recounts that his was lost in battle.

“Just for protection,” He reassures Muichiro. He accepts the gifts and thanks him. You secretly hope that he never has to draw that sword in any sort of battle.

Kamado Tanjiro and Nezuko approach him. They were both older than the two of you, and their presence was full of warmth.

“Nezuko, the last I saw you…” Of course, he is dumbfounded. He missed out on a lot while he was asleep, after all.

“I know! It’s nice to talk to you as a human again,”

They don’t see it, but the look of contentment crosses his face.

He is eventually cleared off, and was given a wheelchair to sit in. While crutches were given to him, his other leg had atrophied, so he had to train himself to walk. Almost everyone in the Demon Slayer Corps retired after Muzan was defeated. Although some stayed, to protect the Ubuyashiki family. But that was out of your hands now.

You took him to the house you spent so much time working on. Of course, he was blind-folded, so he would not see the surprise. It was already afternoon, and you were sure that he was hungry, so you had to make this fast.

When you finally take off the blindfold, he stares at the house before him. He is silent, taking in sight.

“You…” He says, after a while. “Built this for us?”

You nod, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead he gestures for you to come closer, and you do, waiting for him to say his thoughts. But instead, he grabs on to your kimono and kisses you. When you both pull away, he has a blush on his cheeks.

“Thank you, for everything,”

The both of you go inside, and his stomach rumbles. He doesn’t even try to hide it, as he whispers that he is hungry.

“Just sit tight, okay?” You rush to make lunch. Thankfully, you hadn’t thrown the head of lettuce that you ate the night before, and it was still relatively fresh. You get a pan and make his favorite food. It was chicken stew, complete with side dishes. After an hour, you pop out of the kitchen and set the table. He tries to help, but you disagree.

“You’ve been fighting for your life all this time, it’s the least that I can do.”

He smiles and sits back. He can’t deny the fact that he wants nothing more but to assist you, but he knows how long you’ve been waiting for this moment.

The lunch you prepared for him puts him at ease. It’s a reminder of the things that could be, and things to come. If anything, it reminds him of hope—of home. Of what was once his, but lost to unfortunate events.

As he sips the broth, tears start pouring down his face. He can’t contain himself, he just feels so sentimental that moment. When you see this, a look of worry crosses your face. Was your cooking that bad? But he waves it off, and wipes his cheeks.

“I’m just so happy that you stayed for me,” He admits, and you wonder just how long he was holding that one in.

“Of course I would!” It would not make much sense if you just left him just because he was unwell! But he looks at you with uncertainty. So you hold his hands in yours again. “I love you very much, Muichiro. No matter how long, or whatever happens to you, I’ll always be there for you,”

Something had changed inside him. It was tiny, and no one really noticed it. But you did.

“I love you too, ___,”

You were just so happy to have him back, and even if the future was uncertain, you had him with you. And that was enough.

The sun may have gone down, but you had your own sun in your home.

[shhhhyoursister]

okay im gonna post this right before i go to bed because i havent posted new stuff in a while and its like AHH but okay so here is the first of the unfinshied/unedited things ive written, and the first of the two lets say..... niche aus i have.....very niche and very exposing of how much of a loser i am!! 

i mentioned this one a few times and before everything got bad in the world i had so many ideas but here yall go here is my beloved davenzi pokemon au i hope all you other losers enjoy

(also please excuse all the brackets i write things out of order but always need to make notes of what happens in between)

Matteo pushed the door open, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and let out a loud yawn as he stretched an arm over his head. He raised the glass of Pinap juice to his mouth and took a sip, smiling around the rim as he looked out at the large meadow behind his house.

The berry trees were growing tall around the perimeter of the fence, patches of grass at various lengths sprouting out of the ground. The large pond off to the side had its own waterfall, a feature his mother was extremely proud of, and he could admit that it added a little something special to the space

It wasn’t much, but they  did what they could with what they had. It was enough for the Pokémon they cared for, at least. 

At that thought, he felt something tugging at his pants, and he glanced down and smiled at the Vulpix at his feet. Its teeth were caught in the fabric but he reached down to pat it on the head anyway, knowing that was just its way of greeting him. It let go and stood next to him, like it was expecting something.

“What do you want?” he asked, poking it lightly in the side with his foot, and laughed when it rolled onto its back and latched onto it with its paw, and tried to secure its hold with the leg that was missing one. Matteo got it off easy and it sprung back up, ready to play.

He rolled his eyes, and walked further out into the meadow, the Vulpix trotting along happily beside him. There were a few Pokémon that he needed to check on before breakfast for himself or the rest of the Pokémon roaming around the property, and he wanted to get it done fast because the Tauros with the bandage over its eye was snorting at him from over in its usual corner. He quickened his pace.

He was looking for the Luvdisc that his mother had found a few days before, alone and hungry in shallow water, and his eyes scanned over the mostly clear water, trying to catch any sign of the pink water-type swimming around. He saw it just as it darted around a Buizel and behind a rock, seeming to be in much better shape than the day before. He was about to turn and head to the small shed in the back where they kept some of the Pokémon in more serious condition, but he looked up when he heard the door slide open, and his mom call his name.

“Matteo, Jonas is here to say bye!” She yelled out, and he turned and started making his way back.

“I didn’t get to look at the Pachirisu yet.” He said, jogging up to her. She was smiling softly at him, her long brown hair pulled back in a bandana. She was holding a bowl in her arms, no doubt the breakfast she had been making for the Pokémon when he had come downstairs that morning

“Don’t worry about that, go see your friend, and wish him luck!” she said, walking out the back door, “He’s going to battle his next gym leader!” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Matteo muttered as he walked past her, setting his glass down as he went. 

He found Jonas by the front door, six Pokéballs attached to his waist, and a large bag on his back. He had his Jigglypuff out of its ball by his side, and it started bouncing when Matteo got closer.

“Hey, Luigi!” Jonas exclaimed, pulling him in for a hug, and Matteo squeezed his arms around his backpack. The hug was bittersweet, and he almost didn’t want to let go. He didn’t have many friends in his little town, and his responsibilities at the Pokémon Sanctuary made it difficult to go too far.

“You feeling ready?” Matteo asked, knowing what Jonas was going to say. He had always been confident, and was getting through the gyms at a rapid pace.

“Of course, bro,” he said, grinning and punching Matteo in the arm, “I feel ready to battle anyone after beating that ghost-type gym leader. That was rough, it took me four fucking tries!”

Matteo nodded as Jonas went off. Matteo had heard the stories many times, not just from Jonas, but similar ones from other trainers in his town; the gym leader that happened to be the closest to them also happened to be one of the toughest. His Pokémon were strong, he was strong, but most importantly his connection to each of them was strong. He was admired, envied, and heavily respected.

Nobody knew anything about him, though.

The gym was off deep in the woods, off of one of the random routes running through their town. It was not only hard to find, but hard to navigate, as once one entered it was quite clear that the house was designed to keep people out. There were traps and dead ends and looping hallways that all just led back to the beginning, and Jonas said it took him hours to even find the staircase that led to the gym leader.

“I should be heading off if I want to get to the city before it’s dark,” Jonas said, and extended his arms for another hug. Matteo squeezed him again, and said his own goodbye before Jonas ruffled his hair and went out the door, the Jigglypuff following close behind. Matteo let out a sigh, and walked back through his house. 

“Matteo, can you come here a second?” he heard his mother call from the kitchen, and he sighed again and poked his head into the room.

“Yeah, mama?” He asked, itching to get back outside. He had been making progress with the skittish Ponyta that hid whenever anyone else came near it, and he had been wanting to see if it would eat out of his hand that morning.

“You seem sad,” she said, and he stopped himself from rolling his eyes and walked further into the kitchen as she continued, “you’re not usually sad when Jonas or your other friends go off to battle.”

“Yeah, well, I’m going to miss him,” he said, knowing that wasn’t all, “last time he left he didn’t come back for a month. And I haven’t seen Abdi or Carlos in longer than that, and I don’t even know where Amira is right now.”

His mother nodded. She had heard him say that before, note that as the reason he was upset anytime the idea of gyms or badges or battling was brought up. She walked over to him and put a hand on his cheek, and smiled gently.

“You know, if you want to take a break from this and train,  you can.”

Matteo closed his eyes. It was something she had offered before, and he knew that there was almost no way he would be willing to take her up on it. The sanctuary was too important to him, no matter how much he might’ve wanted a party of his own. He didn’t need his own Pokémon when there were dozens that needed him right at home.

“I’m not going to stop helping you here, mama,” Matteo responded as usual, “this is more important than winning a few gym badges.”

“You wouldn’t even have to stop if you don’t want to,” she said, patting him on the cheek and moving back over to the stove where she was cooking their breakfast, “if you want to do both, find some Pokémon from the sanctuary. I’m sure some of them would be more than happy to battle with you.”

Matteo laughed sarcastically, and then actually thought about what his mother said, and his mouth drew into a line. He didn’t know if he wanted to put that burden on any of the Pokémon that they were caring for, even though he knew in the back of his head that some would be willing and able. He thought about that little Vulpix that would follow behind him and nip at his heels, and the Butterfree that would always swoop over his head and chirp happily at him, and even the Tauros with the eyepatch liked him as long as he was fed.

“I don’t know,” he settled on, and then turned to the door, “I’m going to check on the rest.”

****

Later that night, Matteo was sitting out on the roof outside of his room, after climbing through the window. It looked out over the entire sanctuary, but it was too dark for him to see much. He could see some small ripples in the water in the pond, but beyond that the only thing he could make out were sounds. He could hear something, probably a Rattata or Sandshrew, scratching and digging around the grass, and the melodic chirps of a Kricketot. He heard the same Noctowl as before cooing quietly in one of the trees, and he closed his eyes as a breeze blew by.

They were the sounds he had grown up with. Matteo was raised out in the sanctuary more than he was inside his own home. His mother and father had opened it soon after getting married, had built it into something highly respected in their community. They had a large staff working with them and they would get multiple calls each day from people finding injured Pokémon out in the wild.

There were photo albums full of him as an infant being stared at by a confused Pikachu, being (very carefully) held by a Kangaskhan, laughing as a Ledyba flew overhead. Once he was old enough he started working alongside his parents, and everyone in town loved the Florenzi’s, the couple that would save wild Pokémon with their wild son by their side. 

When Matteo was around twelve, things went a little sour. His dad started talking more about battling, and gyms, and how cool it would be to go out and see the world beyond their small town. He tried to convince Matteo that they could go off and battle together, father and son, and when Matteo refused, his father had gone quiet. A few days later, he came down for breakfast to his mother crying, his father’s stuff gone, and six of the Pokémon from the sanctuary missing as well.

He took a deep pull from the joint in his mouth, remembering the fierce promise he had made to himself that morning; he would never, ever, leave his mother like his father did. Battling and gym badges weren’t worth it.

But there was something in the back of Matteo’s head that was starting to get louder as he sat there. Something saying that just going to one gym wouldn’t be the same; he could work at the sanctuary during the day, train with (willing) Pokémon at night, and in a few weeks make the short trip to the ghost-type gym. He wasn’t expecting that he’d win, no matter what gym he went to, but the desire for something more was unfortunately undeniable. Matteo hated what his father did, but could understand the urge to run away. 

He stubbed the joint out and took one more look at the sanctuary before going back inside and getting ready for bed. As he climbed under the covers, he realized he made up his mind. His first task for the morning, alongside his usual morning chores, was to see which Pokémon wanted to, and were able to, battle. 

****

[Matteo makes a party and its kind of a mishmash of misfits but it’s the best he can do because he doesn't want to go out and catch wild Pokémon especially when he has some that want to battle with him]

[He spends a few weeks training and it's really tough and they aren’t amazing but they're better than he expected, and he doesn't really get why they love him and listen to him the way they do]

[One day he decided that he's ready and he promises his mom that he's gonna be back that night and he goes off to find the ghost type gym]

[He finds the gym and it looks completely abandoned and he has to climb over a gate to get in but he does it and then he has to walk through this super creepy dark place and he's having a rough time and he's getting more and more scared and worried that he's in the wrong place and that what he's doing is a bad idea and that he should just turn around when-]

And then finally, a staircase.

Matteo saw it at the end of the hall and sighed in relief. He was exhausted, glad that his Pokémon were in their Pokéballs so they weren’t as tired as him. He wiped the sweat off of his brow, and then tied his bandana around his head to keep his hair out of his face as he walked towards the stairs. He placed his foot on the first one and winced at the loud creak that came from it. He walked up the stairs carefully, seeing a door as he got closer to the top.

He finally reached the top of the stairway, and his shoulders dropped when he saw the door. There was a board across it, blocking it off, and Matteo felt anger start to bubble up inside him. He had spent hours trying to find the fucking place, had banked on Jonas mentioning a staircase, and had gotten so hopeful when he saw it. He huffed and, like a child, kicked hard at the door. His jaw dropped when it swung open.

He carefully made his way inside, his eyes scanning around the large room, too dark for him to make anything out. There seemed to be a fog making it even harder to see, and he waved his arm in front of him to see if he could clear it away. He took a few steps, and then a few more, and was about to take another when he heard a quiet, “I’d stop there if I were you.”

Matteo’s head snapped up and he froze, unable to tell where the sudden voice came from. He could feel his breathing pick up, and he could even hear it in the silence that followed the voice, and was about to turn and bolt when he heard, also quiet but with a bit of a laugh under it, “I didn’t mean to scare you, I just didn’t want you to fall in.”

Matteo whipped his head around, trying to figure out what he was about to fall in, when it seemed like the fog seemed to thin. He looked around the room as details became clearer, the blueish-green tiles on the walls and the white, chipped paint, and he looked down at his feet and stumbled back a few steps; he was standing right at the edge of what seemed to be a huge, empty, swimming pool.

Well, almost empty. As the fog cleared, Matteo could make out a figure on the other side, who seemed to be sitting on the edge, their feet dangling into the empty space below. He watched the figure kick off the edge and land with a quiet sound a few feet below in the pool itself, and then they started coming closer.

Matteo felt himself get nervous. Not scared, like he had been initially getting to the building, and wandering around in the dark, and when he had first come into the room and seen the fog. He was nervous, because there was no way that this person wasn’t the gym leader, which meant that he was about to battle a gym leader. 

“Are you going to come down here?” The voice asked again, definitely coming from the approaching gym leader. 

Matteo took a breath before looking around and spotting a ladder that led down into the pool. He made his way over on shaky legs and got himself down as carefully as he could, landing hard on his feet and stumbling a little. He righted himself just as he heard the gym leader stop, and he took another deep breath before looking up.

And he huffed out that breath, because the man standing in front of him had to be a dream, or maybe there was a Pokémon there that had some kind of power that was making him hallucinate, because there was no other explanation for how he was so beautiful. And Matteo knew that he shouldn’t have been focusing on that, but he was only human, and he was very, very gay.

“You’re quiet,” the gym leader said, crossing his arms over his chest and smiling, “you are here to battle, right?”

“Yes, I am,” Matteo said quickly, grabbing a hand around one of the Pokéballs around his waist, “my first one.”

He wanted to slap a hand over his face for saying that. He didn’t think that was good information to tell the person that he was about to battle if he wanted to seem confident, not that that wasn’t already out the window with his obvious panic. He watched the gym leader smile bright, and he wished it didn’t make his stomach jolt the way it did.

“Aw, you chose me to be your first?” he asked, placing a hand over his heart, “I’m honored.”

Matteo smiled. He was funny at least, even if he was going to beat Matteo and his Pokémon within six rounds probably. 

“Mostly just out of convenience, this is the gym closest to me.” he explained, not really knowing how much he was supposed to be talking. He had no idea what he was doing, at all, but the gym leader didn’t seem to be rushing anything along.

“That makes sense, I’m not usually the first gym people come to. I don’t know why that is, though,” he stepped back and threw his arms out, “I try to make it nice, you know?”

Matteo snorted, “Yeah, that fence you have to hop to get in is really welcoming, and the board across the door really makes me feel at home.”

The gym leader laughed, and Matteo let himself laugh with him, losing a bit of the nerves he had coming in.

“Well, I’m glad you like it,” he said, and then grabbed a Pokéball seemingly out of thin air, threw it up and then as he caught it turned to Matteo and asked, “so, are you ready for your first battle? I’ll go easy on you.”

He said it was a slightly patronizing grin, so Matteo grabbed his own Pokéball in his hand, tilted his head with a sweet smile and said, “Don’t worry, you don’t have to.”

David looked happily surprised and nodded, and before Matteo could react he threw the Pokéball into the air, and a Mimikyu landed on the ground in front of him. Matteo looked at it in shock.

“You have a Mimikyu?” he asked, wanting to get closer to look. The Pokémon was looking at him, or at least the disguise part was, gently flopping around on top of the Pokémon it was concealing inside.

“Yeah, it was one of my first,” the gym leader said with a small smile, and then shook himself out of it and grinned cocikly, “which means it’s one of my strongest.”

Matteo nodded, and threw his own Pokéball into the air, Vulpix springing onto the ground in front of him. It looked ready, stanced and nose pointed at the Mimikyu in front of it. The battle started when the gym leader called out his first move.

And Matteo lost. Badly, and quickly, and if he wasn’t so worried about getting home so he could tend to his Pokémon he would've been more embarrassed. He dropped to his knees next to his Sandshrew as it trembled on the ground from the last attack laid on it by the gym leader’s second Pokémon.

“That was pretty good for a first try,” he heard echo through the room, and he looked up and pushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

“It wasn’t good. I wasn’t meant to be a trainer, and these Pokémon weren’t meant to battle. I should just give up.” He sighed, and held the Pokéball out so the Sandshrew could return to it and rest. He got up and dusted himself off, and saw the gym leader standing much closer than he had been.

“It’s not that you weren’t good, you just weren’t ready. You have a connection to these guys. I can see it.” the gym leader said earnestly, reaching his hand out. 

“That doesn’t mean they should be battling,” he sighed, “they’re all from the sanctuary me and my mom have. I shouldn’t have made them do this.”

“You weren’t making them do anything,” the gym leader said quickly, “seriously, you can tell they’re enjoying it because they’re doing it with you. I’ve been a gym leader for a while, you should trust me on this. I know Pokémon.”

“Well, so do I,” Matteo said with an angry huff, making his mind up again, “and I’m done battling.”

He turned, ignoring the disappointed look on the face of the gym leader, and climbed up the ladder before hurrying home.

****

[Matteo really doesnt think hes gonna go back but the pokemon were having fun and he kinda wants to see david again so he starts training again, gets a bit stronger and goes back]

He found it easier the second time, and made his way through it easier the second time too, as if he actually remembered the way through the crazy maze inside. When he got to the top of the stairs and saw the boarded up door again he snorted, and took a deep breath before pushing his way into the room again.

He was greeted by the same thick fog, the same tiles around the walls, the same chipping paint, but he knew to not take too many steps in. He figured the gym leader knew he came in, as the fog started clearing again once he was in the room, and he saw the same figure seated in the same spot on the edge of the pool.

“Oh, the boy from the Pokémon sanctuary!” the gym leader called out as he jumped down onto the pool tiles, “I’ve been expecting you.”

Matteo laughed and said, “I didn’t think I was coming back, how could you have been expecting me?”

“I could see it in your eyes,” the gym leader took a few steps closer, “you want to win. Or you want to prove something. No matter what it is, you have a reason to be here.”

Matteo smiled before making his way down the ladder and into the pool. His feet hit the tiles and he turned around so he could the gym leader, who he was getting very tired of only referring to as ‘the gym leader’.

“What’s your name?” he asked quickly, before he could think better of it, “Like, I know your whole thing is being mysterious but I have a feeling I’m going to be coming back here again.”

“Oh, so we’re already on a first name basis?” the gym leader asked, spinning around and a few steps towards the wall he had been sitting on, and he leaned his back against it, smiling.

“I just figured it’ll save us time later. Easier to do it now than in a month when it’ll be awkward.” He shrugged, offering a half smile. He tried to play it off as a joke, but he wanted to know.

He watched the gym leader smile, and then bite his lip and look down at the floor. He tapped his foot on the ground a few times before kicking off the wall and saying, “Okay, then. I’m David.”

Matteo smiled, nodded, quietly responded, “I’m Matteo,” and took a Pokéball off of his belt. 

[litwitlady]

whoever is filthy, let him be filthy still (4/6)

Read on AO3. - A chapter ahead over there.

Warnings: mentions of murder and childhood abuse

iv. Max

‘And Max. He’s your brother? You were found together?’

Michael nods but frowns. ‘We’re brothers in theory, I guess.’ 

‘In theory? Explain that.’ Dr. Sampson hands him a cup of coffee and settles back into her seat. 

He shrugs. ‘He and Isobel were adopted together. I got thrown into the system. Once I returned to Roswell, we struggled - I struggled.’ He clears his throat and takes a sip of the coffee. ‘He can be a condescending dick. And as de facto leader, he pisses me off - a lot.’

‘Have you ever been close?’ Dr. Sampson has a voice that lures things from you - ugly truths that you never made a conscious decision to admit. To yourself or anyone else. Michael decides it’s her superpower. 

‘Once. Back in high school. Before all the lies.’

She smiles warmly, trying to soothe the answers loose. ‘I know you two aren’t blood related, Michael. And that your relationship is often strained. But do you still think of him as your brother?’

‘Only sometimes.’

***

Michael doesn’t immediately go to Max. He drags his feet for a couple of weeks and is happy to continue doing so, but Isobel has other ideas. She begins orchestrating reasons for family meetings - their doppelganger problem, Liz and Max’s emotional crisis, her desire to cook some new recipe. 

None of her plans work. Michael too stubborn and Max too oblivious. It’s not until Max unexpectedly climbs down into Michael’s bunker that avoidance is no longer possible. And he comes at the worst moment. Michael is already fuming - his newest calculations providing nothing but bad news. No matter how many simulations he runs. It’s frustrating, but not nearly as frustrating as when he’d run into Alex and Forrest that morning. At the Crashdown having breakfast, hands touching across the table. This time they had noticed him and he honestly wishes they hadn't.

‘Not in the mood, Maxwell.’ He doesn’t bother looking up from his worktable.

Max ignores him and slides a stool over, sitting far enough away that Michael can’t reach him. Already playing defense to Michael’s anger. ‘You’re never going to be in the mood for this, so sit down and listen.’

Michael laughs, bitter and sarcastic. ‘Fuck you, Max.’

‘I don’t want to be the leader of this anymore.’ He motions vaguely around the bunker.

That certainly grabs Michael’s attention. ‘Come to handover your letter of resignation?’ He sits down on his own stool and smirks at Max. ‘Because I accept. Long live Queen Isobel.’

‘Not Isobel, Michael. You.’ He’s looking at Michael through those big, brown puppy dog eyes - full of sincerity. Not a single hint of humor anywhere on his face.

Michael laughs anyway. ‘I don’t have time for this, Max. Go brood somewhere else.’ 

Max stays quiet but he doesn’t move. He watches Michael work for a long time. It frustrates Michael because it’s always been one of his favorite strategies. Wait him out until he crumbles - which Michael always does because Max can be a patient motherfucker once he digs his heels in and decides to be an asshole.

The air around them thickens and when Max clears his throat, Michael comes the tiniest bit unhinged.

‘Alright, fuck! Say what you came to say. I’ll listen.’ He only half means it, but Max seems satisfied enough. 

‘Sheriff Valenti confessed something to me a few months back. Something I’ve kept from you and Isobel.’ He stares down at his hands and grimaces. ‘I didn’t know how to tell you or what any of it meant or even who I was anymore. And that was wrong. I’ve been wrong about a lot of things, Michael. Especially with you.’

Michael rolls his eyes at Max’s melodramatics. ‘Spare me the contrition, Max. Just spit it out already. I have work to do.’ 

‘It wasn’t you in the group home who was drawing all over the walls. It was me.’ Their eyes meet over the table and a heated silence falls around them. Michael blinks slowly, not comprehending what he’s just heard. ‘I was the deranged, damaged kid. And I think I’ve known that all along.’ He shakes his head and breaks eye contact, staring back down at his hands.

More silence. Several moments stretching long between them. Finally, Max sighs. ‘Say something.’ Emotion straining his voice. Eyes welling with tears.

Michael continues to glare at Max. Not believing he has the audacity to cry. He tries to stand but it’s like he’s glued in place. And instead of his normal white hot rage, a calm coolness washes over him. Pooling in the bottom of his belly. Michael knows that feeling is hate. Pure, icy hatred. He’s not unfamiliar with the feeling - Jesse Manes, Kyle Valenti, Flint Manes, Noah Bracken. Sometimes the list seems endless.

‘Explain it better, Max. Make it make sense.’ Every word pushed through teeth clenched so tight he’s worried they’ll break.

The tension surges between them, the temperature palpably rising in the windowless bunker. Michael’s not sure he’ll hear anything Max says - not with the ferocious pounding in his head. Blood pumping through his veins like icy sludge.

‘All my nightmares as a kid - the times Isobel literally had to mind-walk me so I’d calm down. My obsession with the symbol - the way I’d doodle it over and over again in every notebook I ever owned. And then the tattoo.’ His voice cracks, high-pitched and frantic. ‘Now, with all that devil talk? Michael, I couldn’t have survived what you survived. I’d have killed more than some random pervert in the desert.’

Michael stalks towards him, fists raised. ‘Is that supposed to make me feel better? I was kicked around - slapped, beaten, burned. And that’s all supposed to be okay because you were safe? From yourself?’ A strangled noise rises from Michael’s throat. ‘I was never loved, Max. Not ever. Not once. All so you could be protected and loved, held tight by the perfect fucking family?’ 

He takes several steps forward, fisting the collar of Max’s jacket. The urge to wrap his hands around his brother’s throat throbbing in his fingers.

Max grips Michael’s wrists softly. ‘And yet, you are the most loving of the three of us. Of anyone I’ve ever met. And no that’s not fair, but it’s the goddamn truth.’ He pounds his fist on the table and Michael flinches, dropping his hands away and stepping back. Watching as Max’s tears finally crawl down his cheeks. ‘You’ve always had the most control - ever since we were kids.’ He throws his hands up in submission. ‘You’re not the murderer, Michael. I am. It always had to be this way.’

A manic sort of laughter overwhelms Michael. He can barely believe what he’s just heard. And by someone meant to love him. He turns his back to Max and moves as far away as he can. The rage inside him festering into something almost sentient. He closes his eyes and counts backwards from twenty - inhaling and exhaling around every number. Like Dr. Sampson had suggested whenever his anger tries to get the best of him. 

Michael can choose to take back control. To let it all go. Even if the other person doesn’t deserve such kindness.

And it works, mostly. Some of his tension drains away and the weight on his chest subsides enough for him to breathe again. He’s still angry - still furious. But it’s a low, simmering heat now - not the numbing white hatred that had consumed him earlier. His head is spinning with this sudden rewrite of his life and there’s only one person he wants to talk to right now. And that person is certainly not Max Evans.

Michael slowly turns around and shakes his head at Max. ‘I need time. Maybe a lot of time.’ He needs Alex. ‘I miss my brother. I’ve missed my brother for a long time now. But the truth is, Max? I don’t recognize you anymore.’

Max nods. ‘I get that. And for whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry.’ He starts to walk away but stops with one foot on the ladder. ‘I won’t tell Isobel yet. To keep her out of your hair for a while. However long it takes for you to process all this.’

‘I’ll tell her when I’m ready, Max. You don’t have to keep making all the decisions and putting in all the work. We can’t be a family until we’re all on equal footing.’ He moves towards Max. Not necessarily because he wants to - because he doesn’t. Not right now, anyway. But he knows that some future version of himself will want this. That Max needs this and Isobel. Maybe even Liz. So, he wraps his arms around Max, quick and tight. One sharp clap on the back. ‘Maybe take a trip to California.’ He pulls back. ‘I hear it’s nice this time of year.’

Michael returns to his calculations and Max leaves, already planning the best route to California in his head.

[voidselfshipp]

Stay.

(Ok to rb)

Octane tapped his foot on the carpet waiting for his taxi to arrive.

The rest legends left half an hour ago and he was stuck in his dads party.

This was defenetly not his style, sure he was all about getting recognized and have fans around him, but not this kind,

He hunched and crossed his arms when finally his taxi arrived,he hopped in almost immediatly and grabbed his phone.

Jerico got a text suddenly as she layed in bed,the LED lights bounced off her skin as she saw a movie, she was laughing when she saw the Text.

Her smile turned into frown.

"Can I crash at your place?"

"Yeah...what happened?"

Octane types out the answer but deletes it "ill tell you when I get there,be there in 10"

He first went to pick up some food,almost getting stopped by a fan but avoiding them by a split second.

He then went to jericos home.

A knock interrupted the tombstone silence in jeris house,jer opened the door,and there he was.

The taxi left behind them as tav only sighed--Hey...--he said.

Octavio hugged her tightly and jerico hugged back.

He enters the house closing the door behind him and locking it.

Both sit on the couch and take out the food from the bags.

Octane took his mask and Goggles off, and sighed-- I was at my dads party--he said, and proceeded to tell her everything that went down.

Jeri listened with a heavy heart, and hugged him tightly when he finished--i I hate being near my parents, I hate going to their parties..

--Youre always welcomed to stay--jer added caressing his cheek.

Tav leans into her hand and nodds kissing the palm of it as his own hand pressed against jericos.

--Can I stay a couple of days?...I just want to be away from the limelight...and live...calmly here

--yeah, its going to be fun having you around,this house May not be as big ad your mansion but--

He stopped her midsentence cupping her cheeks--its perfect...just like you...

Jer chuckles and kisses him, he kisses back resting his back on the couch.

Her arms go around his waist and he melts in her embrace resting his head on her shoulder.

And slowly they doze off.

--buen día amor.

The smell of food invaded the livingroom,jeri slowly sits on the couch with octane, who hands her a Plate of food and freshly brewed tea.

--Thought youd be drinking coffee

He shrugged and Turned on the TV--i want to calm down so coffee is off the list--he winked at her and she giggled putting her head on his shoulder.

As he flipped through the Channels a news Channel popped up talking about the party octanes dad threw,and an interview with his father came shortly after.

Jeris hand is on the remote and she switches to cartoons.

A smile instantly appears on octavios face and he eats his breakfast.

--Thanks for letting me stay--he said with his mout stuffed with food.

She laughed and kissed his cheek--of course id let you stay,you deserve some peace too you know?

He smiled softly--im so glad to have you in my life...I love you

Jer smiled--me too...

The rest of the day sure was something, filled with music and laughter.

Jeri was cleaning the house as tavi cooked lunch.

She wiped the sweat off her forehead as she finished cleaning and went to the kitchen.

Her arms go around tavs waist, he instantly melts and presses his back against her chest.

She presses soft kisses against his neck--amor im making lunch...

--you love em though

He snorts and nodds--Yeah...anyway its ready lets eat!

Both take the food to the bedroom and watch a movie.

Hearing octanes laughter made jerico happy,he had gone through some stuff and he really did deserve this.

Jeri also fought for the peace she has now, and being able to share it with him, the love of her life was everything shed hoped for.

The movie ended and so after Washing the dishes they went to sleep.

Octane moved his legs and kicked off the blankets,jeri wakes up when she feels him moving around the bed.

--Cant sleep?--She asks.

--si,i cant get my body to stay still!

Jeri chuckled at the irony and so did he--Alright lemme try something--She cleared her throat and caressed his hair--Wanna hear a story?--He nodded like a little kid and she giggled-- a long time ago, in a kingdom long forgotten was a prince, charming and fast, he was very nice and everyone loved him.

One day he scaped to see the market and be amongst commoners in disguise, his eyes fell on a young woman buying food,she was beautiful and had a voice soft as any other.

He approached her, and suddenly someone recognized him as the prince.

The prince freaked out thinking that the woman would be extra nice to him to get something from him as everyone had done in the past.

The woman however kept her tone as it was before and invited the prince to drink tea with her.

And so for the following month hed sneak out to be with his one true love.

One day while holding his hand he asked her, deep un thought"Why didnt you treat me like loyalty when we met?" He said"why do you treat me so well knowing who I am"

The woman laughed softly " i Fell in love with the Man here" she said pressing a hand to his chest"and not by what he had"

The prince then understood and she saw him beyond his status as heir to the throne,she saw him by who he was truly, and loved him for it-- octane smiled kissing her.

--something tells me its you reminding me that you love me for who I am and not a bedtime story

--Mayyyybe...

Octavio snuggled closer to her and fell asleep in her arms.

The weeks went on and on, he had been missing from his social media for months.

One morning jerico was watching the news.

"The famous apex legend Octane has been found missing in his social media for months and his fans are panicked" the reporter said.

--hey amor?--jeri asked as Octavio sat besides her--i think you should tell your fans you okay

Stuffing his face with food he looked at her--Why?

She then signaled at the TV,he read the headline and nodded--oh shit,I should tell em, you want to appear with me?pleease?

She nodded kissing his cheek.

After eating breakfast they went to change and get into semi respectable clothes,just so they wouldnt appear on their cheesy pjs with cute animals and food stamped all over it.

--Hey guys Wassup!--octane said at his phones camera--just popped Back in for a bit to tell y'all ive been alright, just went off the radar for a bit!, but oh oh you wouldnt guess where im staying at!--The camera was at a slight angle so jerico couldnt be seen.

He them moved his phone to show jerico against his chest with a smiles--thats right ive been at my partners house!, isnt she the cutest?--jer hid her face on his chest with baby Pink cheeks muttering a soft "hiii!"--anyway Guys dont worry, as soon as I feel better ill be back!, for now peace!--his hand covered the camera and he stopped recording,uploading it to all his social media and then leaving his phone on the nightstand.

They changed back into their pjs and sat on the bed ready to watch more movies and spend Time togheter

She always made him feel loved and special,and life with her was easier.

When their eyes meet the world seems softer,and now they were in their own world of comfort.

Eventually hed had to return to his life as octane, but right now he was Octavio Silva,a Man who loved being with his partner, and was happy with them.

For once he could be himself,and have someone who loved him for it

[mithranqueersmusings]

Before This Dance Is Through IV

Chapter: 4/16

Rating: U

Summary: Ringo's being going through a dry spell for the last year or so and when he regretfully tells his best friend John, he insists on taking them to an all-male strip club for some "fun". Ringo isn't sure whether it's the alcohol, his desperation or a mixture of the two but he thinks he might be falling in love with a stripper.

Tags: AU - Strippers, Modern Setting, Smut, Slow Burn

Pairings: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, John Lennon/Paul McCartney

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

Once Ringo had managed to compose himself, which took far longer than he'd care to admit, he ventured back out into the chaos of the club in search of John. He wasn't difficult to find, standing at the front of the stage cheering - practically screaming - and waving money around to get the dancer's attention. Unsurprisingly, the dancer was Paul. He was currently spinning around the pole with one hand, his ankles entwined to give him support. It was quite a beautiful sight, Ringo thought, watching his gentle movements. The club was considerably more empty by this point and the remainder of the customers had circled around the stage. Ringo slinked past a few drunken layabouts as he made his way over to John, he had to shout in his ear just to get his attention.

"Oh, Ringo!" John grinned, his breath stank of whiskey "How'd it go?"

"A little too well." Ringo chuckled, he coaxed John to sit down.

"Did he almost kill you this time?" John only passed Ringo a few glances, mostly his attention was on Paul.

"I think he did kill me. Then brought me back. Then killed me again." Ringo picked up John's drink and took a sip "Are they supposed to touch you?"

John paused his shouting for a moment "Touch you how?"

"Just... Y'know, touching. Getting me to touch him, him touching my chest." Ringo decided to leave out the crotch contact, he still wasn't sure whether it was intentional or not.

"Oh yeah, that's fine. As long as you're both consenting o'course. And as long as he's not dropping on his knees and sucking you off." John laughed and Ringo almost choked on the drink, the image those words conjured up was a surprising one.

"How much longer are you planning on staying?" Ringo settled back in his seat and turned his attention to Paul.

"Why? You in a hurry to get home and bash one out?" John nudged him without pulling his eyes away from the stage.

"Speak for yourself." Ringo scoffed, he didn't see the point in denying it.

"We can head out after Paulie's done." John nodded to gesture towards the man in question.

"Fine." Ringo stretched his legs out in front of him.

If he hadn't been so exhausted from Spike, Ringo probably would've gotten a little excited watching Paul but he was completely worn out. John had a shine in his eyes that Ringo didn't see very often, and his happiness was definitely contagious. They sat watching Paul for another two songs, during which he exhibited a ridiculous amount of core strength that Ringo could only dream of ever achieving. It was obvious that John was hoping to catch Paul before they headed back home, as much as he was trying to hide it, and Ringo probably would've hung around with him had he not been so exhausted or so sure that John was probably going to be back here within the week. In truth the main reason Ringo wanted to get out of there so quickly was because he didn't want to risk seeing Spike again, or rather Spike seeing him again; Ringo happily could've watched him from a safe distance all night but as soon as Spike was looking right back at him, knowing what Ringo was thinking, that was too much.

The cold night air stung Ringo's face and hands as they stepped back out into the street. Luckily his car wasn't too far away and while he was perhaps a little too tipsy to be driving he made sure he stayed off the main roads and never went over the speed limit - he could drive recklessly when he was sober but he'd never risk that when he was drunk. John was the only one talking on the drive back to his place, mostly rambling about things Ringo couldn't understand so he just nodded along and made affirming noises.

John leaned on Ringo for support as they walked up to his front door, Ringo knew he wasn't so drunk that he couldn't walk but he tended to do this when he was feeling a little lonely. Ringo had gotten more than used to it by now, he'd had to carry John to bed bridal style many times over the years so this was nothing. John fell face first down onto his bed which was still unmade and either fell asleep immediately or wanted Ringo to think he had. It had almost become a routine by this point: Ringo drove them home, carried John up to his room, left a glass of water by his bed and tidied up a few bits and pieces on his way out. Occasionally he'd check in John's fridge to see if he had any food in and if it was empty, which it often was, he'd offer to buy or cook the two of them dinner the next day. Ringo wasn't the subtlest about it sometimes, once or twice he'd even shown up with bags filled with groceries and left after handing them over without much of an explanation. John never acknowledged any of these things Ringo did, at least not verbally, but Ringo knew he appreciated them and he was sure John repaid the favour in some ways he wasn't aware of, or very aware of in the case of tonight.

Exhaustion hit like a strong wave once Ringo finally got back to his own place. He kicked off his shoes carelessly in the hallway and staggered into his bedroom; he didn't dare look at the time before he slid into bed, just chucked his phone into the furthest corner hoping that he'd remembered to set his alarm for the following morning. As soon as his head hit the pillow he expected to fall asleep almost instantly but his brain had other ideas. His body was definitely ready for sleep, his eyes were stinging and his muscles ached a little yet his mind was racing. This didn't happen a lot. Ringo was notoriously known for how well he slept and how loudly he snored but tonight that wasn't the case. He couldn't shake the images of the night from his mind or how warm Spike's skin had felt beneath his fingertips or the inviting smell of him. Ringo let out a groan as he tossed and turned, as though vigorous movement would throw the thoughts out of his head. The last thing he wanted to do was give into the urge but the first thing he wanted to do was sleep, and it was a pretty strong urge. Was there any better way to get to sleep than a quick orgasm? Probably. Ringo just had to tell himself that he was doing this purely for that purpose, as he wanked himself off under the covers with his eyes scrunched tightly and his brain filled with thoughts of Spike.

The following day was fairly uneventful, Ringo was up on time to sit eating breakfast in front of the television for an hour before he had to head out for work. It was his weekly lesson with a kid called Peter, he was nice enough and his parents were more than pleasant if not a little stupid. He'd been working with Peter for almost a year and while he'd made a great deal of progress since their first lesson he wasn't showing a massive amount of promise, but at least he was trying. Sometimes Ringo felt like speaking to his parents privately and breaking the news that their son wasn't going to become a world famous drummer, probably not even a locally famous one, but he needed the money too much. Peter was better than a lot of Ringo's students, most of which had watched Whiplash a few too many times and decided they wanted to be the next John Bonham only to give up in two months because it was 'too hard'.

After their lesson ended Ringo decided to walk around town for a little while, usually he'd be out in search of lunch by now but Peter's parents always prepared him some food which he was never too polite to refuse - after all smoked salmon was considerably more appetising than a tepid sausage roll from Greggs. He decided to pop into his favourite record shop, although it wasn't like there were many others to choose from. Despite the accessibility to music his phone provided, Ringo always had a deep love for vinyl records; they were nostalgic somehow, even if they had no significance to his own childhood. Like most record shops, this one sold a fair bit of vintage clothing too although Ringo was never too interested in that. He didn't really have any particular record in mind as he walked in so ended up browsing through the plethora of options. There was only one other person in the shop, excluding the owner who sat behind the counter and gave Ringo a welcoming smile, but it sounded like there were a couple of people downstairs in the clothing section. As Ringo began to flick through some of the records his phone buzzed in his pocket.

        can you bring me coffee???

It was John, which was a little surprising considering he usually didn't wake up until far later in the afternoon if he'd been drinking heavily the night before.

         hello to you too

        i dont have time for formalities i need COFFEE

         why dont you have any coffee in your house

         i dont have time for questions either

         any coffee in particular my liege?

         ha ha          just get me one from maccies pleaseeee

         fine im just in town atm can you wait like 10 mins

         suppose ill have to

         suddenly im too busy

         shut up just bring me coffee ill love you forever and all that

         i should bloody think so too

Ringo chuckled to himself quietly as he put his phone back into his pocket, he took a final quick look at the stack of records then began making his way outside. Before he could make it to the door he suddenly collided with someone who had been turning up from the staircase, which resulted in a few pieces of clothing flying upwards and landing on the ground. Ringo began apologising immediately, crouching down to pick up the clothes to hand them back over. As he straightened back up to apologise for perhaps the fourth time he froze upon seeing exactly who he'd bumped into.

"Spike." Ringo blurted out, his brain had decided to throw the name out as soon as it crossed his mind.

"Only after 9." He responded instantaneously, it must've been a frequent line he used "Do I... Oh! It's you."

"The very same." Ringo chuckled nervously, he wondered whether he'd actually recognised him or was just being polite - Ringo couldn't decide which one he'd prefer.

It was very strange seeing him like this, so normal that it was abnormal. He was wearing a dark blue turtleneck which framed his sharp jaw and hugged his slim body nicely. Over that lay a yellow beaded necklace and his trousers were a dark suede material; he looked good, somehow more alluring when he was fully clothed. Ringo noticed he was staring, he only hoped that Spike hadn't noticed but it was impossible to tell with the unreadable darkness of his eyes. He cleared his throat, as if he couldn't get any more obvious, then held out the patterned shirt he'd picked up so Spike could take it from him. Their hands brushed slightly at the exchange and Ringo felt the hairs on his arm standing up.

"They're nice, er- Nice clothes." Ringo stammered, yanking his hand back to his side.

"Suppose I should be thanking you for them." Spike replied, there was a faint smile on his lips.

"Oh?" Ringo heard the pitch of his voice rising slightly.

"You helped pay for them." Spike explained, the smile grew.

"Well John paid, really. But he does owe me money so I guess I did pay in a way. Glad to see the money's going somewhere good either way." Ringo rambled, once again his mouth was moving before his brain could stop it.

"Right." Spike said, his tone was very final yet he didn't move to leave.

"I best be getting out of your way so you can actually pay for those." Ringo shuffled sideways towards the door, expecting Spike to step backwards to give him some room but he just stood there looking at him - was it not enough to make him suffer at the club, did he have to punish him now too?

"Are you always this nervous?" Spike grinned.

"No I- You just caught me by surprise is all." Ringo forced himself to take a deep breath.

"Okay." Spike squinted his eyes slightly then turned to head towards the counter.

Ringo was surprised he was able to get back to his car without collapsing, all the tension leaving his body as soon as Spike's eyes were off him made him feel practically boneless. Spike didn't look back at him but Ringo supposed he didn't have to, he would've known he was staring at him. Ringo gripped the steering wheel tightly as he drove, somehow managing to make it to the drive-through without consciously driving there. He ordered a coffee for John and a milkshake for himself, he figured he could do with a pick-me-up after that atrocious encounter. Not once in all the times he'd gone to that shop had he seen Spike there, and it couldn't have been a case of merely not noticing him before because Ringo definitely would've noticed someone looking like that walking around. It felt like God was playing some cruel trick on him, but in reality it was nothing more than a coincidence married with Spike's cruelty which produced that painful exchange. Ringo tried not to think about it as he drove over to John's but his brain had apparently decided to betray him, just as his mouth had done earlier.

John had took a while to answer the door and Ringo began to worry that he'd fallen back asleep - it was times like this that he figured he may as well have a key to his place. When the door swung open, Ringo burst in a little too aggressively and knocked John backwards slightly.

"Jesus, what's crawled up your arse?" John chuckled as he closed the door "Don't tell me the ice cream machine was broken again."

John's presence calmed Ringo significantly but he couldn't shake the tension in his body completely "Guess who I just bumped into." He set the drinks down on John's kitchen table and took a seat.

"Ooh was it that guy from the train station? Or how about-" John took a seat opposite him and gripped the coffee eagerly.

"You're not actually meant to guess." Ringo interrupted, he tried to sound commanding but it was a little difficult when he was holding a strawberry milkshake.

"Then don't say 'guess' you git. The English language is wasted on you." John put his feet up on the table "Who was it then?"

"Spike." Ringo widened his eyes.

"No shit. Really?" John cackled "What happened?"

"I was at that record shop and he was coming up from the basement and I walked straight into him." Ringo explained.

"Nothing straight about it." John mumbled behind his coffee.

"Funny." Ringo glared "It was so fucking embarrassing, I could hardly speak."

"What did he say?" John asked.

"Nothing really. He probably said about three words so I figured he didn't want to talk to me but he just stood there. I didn't want to be rude and just rush out but looking back I probably should've." Ringo sighed.

"Yeah, you probably should've." John snickered.

"Not helping."

"What do you want me to say?"

"I dunno... I'm sure it wasn't that bad or something."

"Well, was it that bad?"

"He asked me if I was always so nervous."

John burst into laughter "Jesus, Ringo. That's pretty bad."

"Guess that's the last time I'll be going to the strip club, or the record shop for that matter."

"Don't be so dramatic. So you were a little awkward in front of him, who cares?"

"I care."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want him thinking I'm some sort of loser."

"Why do you give a shit what he thinks?"

Ringo didn't say anything, he just held his cup tightly and looked at John straight in the eye.

"Look, you've got nothing to get so worked up about. If he thought you were so pathetic he wouldn't have even spoken to you." John lifted his feet off the table and leaned forward in his seat "He's just messing with you, probably thinks it's funny."

"He was smiling." Ringo mumbled.

"Well there you go." John reached his hand forward and poked at Ringo's arm "You're being ridiculous. Chances are you won't bump into him again, you've gone your whole life without doing it before."

"But-" Ringo began.

"No buts! Unless they're butts on the stage covered in leather I don't wanna hear it." John interrupted "Bottom line is you like watching this guy strip right?"

"Well, yeah-" Ringo tried again.

"So what's the problem? It's not like you found out he's your cousin or one of your students, is it?" John smiled warmly.

"Suppose not." Ringo couldn't help smiling too.

"We really need to get you laid, it's making you crazy. I'm supposed to be the crazy one, don't try and take that away from me." John leaned back in his chair again.

"I don't intend to." Ringo chuckled looking down at his feet.

"So... Same time next week?" John raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"You really hate me, don't you?"

"On the contrary! I love you very much, my dear Ringo. That's exactly why I'm gonna take you back there so you can prove you're not some pathetic weirdo."

"How exactly?"

"Just be yourself, you can manage that can't you?"

"Not quite sure I want to."

"Oh hush. Leave the self-deprecation to me if you don't mind." John paused to sip his coffee "This time next week you'll have forgotten all about this, and I'm sure he will too."

"I guess you're right."

But John hadn't been right. Ringo had thought about that small exchange for days. He found himself picking apart every small moment and trying to rationalise it in his mind: had Spike actually recognised him? Why did he just stand there while Ringo tried to squeeze past? Why had been smiling so strangely the whole time? No matter how many answers Ringo tried to give to himself, the whole situation only became more confusing. He felt like a teenager again, stumbling over his words and blushing at the tiniest bit of contact. It was pathetic, shameful really. Maybe if he just took John's advice and actually went and slept with someone all these weird feelings would just be gone. But he didn't want just someone, he wanted him.

[jackbabewang]

Chapter 1 — Intro: All about him

Word count ‧ 7,194

Chapter summary ‧ Just how did you got yourself into this with Jung Yoonoh?

Masterlist

At the age of twenty-four years, already a married woman, while your husband, who was your bitterest enemy since young—Jung Yoonoh. 

“Weren’t you two had always been going at each other like cats and dogs? Why are you married to him?”

Regarding this query, whoever knew you, or him, the question had been asked numerous times and for which your answer was always the same: “Harsh words or deeds can demonstrate one’s love. Couples who fight the most, love each other most. What you saw was our distinctive way of bonding.” 

However, coming face to face with your confidante and most intimate friend, Jennie, you could not help but burst open and spewed up all the pent-up misery you had kept inside. She was in a state of shock still with the news of your marriage, especially with the man, that she was yet to have a proper rest after being newly returned from New Zealand. 

“It’s a long story.” 

“Keep it short then.”

“It was a dark and dismal night, a whip of lightning streaked across the sky and then came the rain…”

Jennie’s face numb and all, “Forget about the scene and cut straight to the point!”

“Here’s where the point begins, be patient, you…”

“Stop. My bad. Keep going!”

That night, your parents had not returned home. Because you were starving so you simply cooked yourself a bowl of ramen. Right when you were about to dig in, the front door was suddenly flung open. It was unlocked. And quickly afterward, witnessed a completely drenched figure barged into your house uninvited. Dripping water on the living room floor and dirty footprints as he stalked towards you with his face darkened similar to that of the Grim Reaper. 

You stared at him, stunned and had not realized that the noodles slipped from your chopsticks and created a messy pile on the table. 

“____, let’s get married.” Yoonoh uttered no unnecessary words and directly confronted you on the subject of marriage. 

You staggered for a moment or two before going to the bathroom and fetched a large soft white bath towel and tossed it over his head. 

“The rain must have seeped into your brain. Talk to me again after you regain your consciousness.”

He did not reach for it, nor ward it off, letting the towel collided with his face and fell to the floor after. “My mom had a sudden heart attack, the doctor said she couldn’t sustain any longer.”

Although speaking of a matter so horrifying and yet no matter how terrifying, there was no expression or emotion on his face at all. But you could see the underlying dejection and fear in his eyes. 

People always say, those who understand you the most, in fact is not your loved ones but your enemy. You and Yoonoh were indeed destined to be natural enemies, therefore you could pronounce that you grasped him mentally. 

So…

You agreed to him, because you knew, the last thing his mother wished for was to see him getting married, and hoping for her only son to be blessed with consummate happiness.

On the day of your wedding, his mother was seated in a wheelchair. She was both pale and thin, but on her white sick face there was no pain or torment instead of a blissful smile. 

The next morning, his mother was then left the earth. Unlike a newly wedded couple, your first night was not spent in the bridal chamber. Rather guarded through the night by her sick-bed, yet still unable to reclaim her lost life. 

Upon the day of his mother’s burial, relatives and friends had long dissipated though Yoonoh stood before her tomb, unmoving for a long time. In the faint drizzle, his lone figure appeared intensely glum and dispirited. 

As you moved to hold the umbrella above him, astoundingly, stream on stream of tears rolled down his face. It was ever since you were little to witness the cold, arrogant and wicked man crumbling in distress for the first time. In this lifetime, perhaps even only once, you did not have the courage to look, not wanting to look, nor bear to see. 

From now on, he no longer had a family in this world. What kind of sorrow could it be?

Albeit unintentionally, the reminiscences had been going on for an indefinitely long period of time. If it was not for Jennie who snapped you out of your trance, you were afraid that the events for the past three months would be recalled vividly to your recollection.

Jennie’s return from New Zealand was unbeknownst to her parents, in case they would show up early in the morning at the airport waiting for her. By the time she gone back home, the Kim’s were genuinely surprised, overly excited, and ended up preparing a feast. You were, undoubtedly, coaxed to stay over and had a sumptuous dinner with them.

With your belly filled, you left the Kim’s and returned home as well. Inside this large house spread over two levels, it was quiet as always and almost deserted. Besides you, there was no other. 

Yoonoh was always busy with work that it was close to inhumane, he returned home late at night when you were asleep, and when you woke up in the morning, he was ready to leave for work. You could only catch a glimpse of him and neither of you exchanged a word. 

After taking a warm bath and tossing and turning restlessly in your bed, you went down to the kitchen and made yourself some supper, deciding to treat Yoonoh as well. 

When you finished eating, you retired to the living room and sat back to watch TV while resignedly cushioning your small body into the soft pillows of the couch. Not realizing the time, you fell asleep just like that. 

Awakened the next morning however, every joint in your body hurt and your nape felt stiff as if bruised or sprained, your legs were numb and you did not dare to move a muscle. Your body felt as though it was not yours anymore.

*Click* 

It was at that very moment, there was the sound of the door being unlocked and opened. You bore the ache and twisted your neck to the direction of the entrance. Yoonoh was finally back.

Seeing as he approached, you immediately looked up at him through tear-filled eyes and sent out SOS. He did not spare you a glance instead his eyes swept over the table of a plateful and an empty dishes, coldy he said, “Why didn’t you clean it up?”

“……” Whatever.

“My legs are numb, lend me a hand and carry me to my bed.”

Hazel eyes slanted ever so slightly beneath ebony dark brows, narrowed and judging. “Can you be more decent? Do you not have a bed to sleep?”

Last of all, he was not willing to provide help anyway. He went to get a document in the study and headed out once again. 

You had to endure the discomfort and led yourself hobbling back to your room. Then you felt your head spinning and began sweating profusely although the weather gave you no reason to. 

The next thing you knew was you woke up in a hospital bed, sitting beside you was Yoonoh flipping through document or magazine of some sort. 

You pushed yourself up into a sitting position and immediately felt the trickle of something wet from your nose. You jolted, thinking that it was blood and when you tilted your head down to expect redness on the white sheets, it only left a damp spot. You felt the dripping once more so you lifted your head in panic. A hand that was not yours, happened to be one step ahead and tossed a box of tissues to your side.

Pulling out sheets of them you wiped off the snot and then turning to him pitifully, pitiably. “How did I even catch a cold?”

His brows scrunched together and warned, “If you ever sleep on the couch again then don’t sleep on the bed anymore. I’ll move the couch into your room.”

“……”

The dramas, the novels; when a woman made supper for her man and fell asleep on the couch while waiting, even catching a cold because of it, in that case would not the man feel touched and guilty, and even showed pity and care for her?

But why was it when it came to you and Yoonoh, resulted in a plot twist? Sigh. It was the reality after all.

“I’m hungry.” You gave up any attempt to explain further and changed the topic instead.

He tossed his phone over, “Order it yourself.”

Then, utterly indifferent, you took his phone, brushing off any fat hopes you had for him. At least you were kind enough to order his portion as well.

Of course, he paid for the food. 

Catching of common cold was not such a big deal other than infusing drips of IV into your vein, but it did consume quite some time therefore when you were discharged from the hospital and returned home with Yoonoh, it was about 10pm at night.

Two plates that was once left on the table were already gone. Yoonoh chucked the package of prescription cold medicine over the couch and went upstairs to run a bath, while you were sitting on the couch watching TV. You were kicked back to your room the moment he came out after he had had a shower. 

Yes, you and him slept in separate rooms. The two of you had never been under the same blanket ever since your wedding day because your marriage meant nothing more than a show. 

You both had clearly understood that this marriage existed in name only. Even though his mother had passed away, you still had to keep up the pretense before others and could not get a divorce just yet. 

That was because your family and relatives did not know about the truth. When Yoonoh said he wanted to marry you, your parents agreed unhesitantly. 

As for the reason that you readily accepted him, besides being voluntary, it was also for the reason that…

Yoonoh had always been the pride of the neighbourhood, came through with flying colours in his studies and had received numerous awards. Looking all handsome and picturesque, he was an exceptionally well-behaved child in every way.

After graduating from university, he started a business and became the CEO of his own company. Whoever’s parents from a decent family background would not want to marry off their daughter to an outstanding son-in-law as him?

After taking two tablets of your medication and putting away your mug in the kitchen, it started raining heavily outside. Immediately you made your way upstairs to shut the windows. But, as you walked down the stairs, you remembered that Yoonoh had no umbrella when he left in the morning so you ran upstairs again, changed your clothes and picked up an umbrella as you headed out.

Once you reached his building, you called but he had not picked up so you waited outside instead. As autumn weather set in it commenced the approach of cool weather, even though it was just drizzle, it was cold. That was probably because you had not fully recovered, you sneezed only at the touch of a little breeze.

At a few minutes past five o’clock, most of the employees had left for the day however there was yet a sign of him.

You called his cell phone. Again, nothing.

Around five-thirty, you were contemplating whether or not you should go inside when he finally showed up. However tagged along next to him was a woman dragging her wheeled suitcase behind her. 

Certainly you knew the woman, and needless to say, she was Yoonoh’s sweetheart—Park Sooyoung.

When did she come back from overseas? Judging her stance, she must have darted to his company as soon as she got off the plane. 

No, perchance, Yoonoh could have picked her up from the airport and brought her to his company straightaway. 

He saw you, and his brows scrunched slightly in what you could not comprehend the perplexed expression in his eyes. You considered for a moment the gaze that would give you an inkling. 

You walked towards him, arm outstretched, “Mr. Jung, here’s the umbrella you’ve ordered, thank you for supporting Gmarket. It’s our pleasure serving you and we certainly look forward to doing that in the future.”

The furrow cleaving his brows deepen, the gloominess in his eyes suggested the forecast of his outburst. 

You kept the customary smile fixed on your face, indisputably shoving the umbrella into his hand. “Please give us a five stars rating if you’re satisfied with our service. Your support is our motivation. I’ve orders to be delivered so I’ll leave you two alone then.”

With that being said, you scampered off. Yet merely a few steps away, your nose tickled and worked up a loud sneeze. 

You were of a weak physique which had to do with your menstrual periods. It was winter when you first had it. You did not know any better and forewent appropriate preventive and protective measures which resulted in having a cold womb, consequently a poor body condition. You were more tended to commitment than anyone else in the aspect of taking medicines or injections. 

You changed your clothes on the return and laid in bed for a few minutes then, Yoonoh was back as well.

You listened for any stray noises downstairs and wondered why did he even come home so early? Shouldn’t he be catching up with his old flame? Suddenly the door pushed open and Yoonoh stepped inside with a glass of water which he sat on the nightstand next to your bed. 

“Take your medicine,” he said in a commanding tone. 

“I did.”

“Really?”

You fumbled with the aluminium strip and explained as you pointed the hollows, “It’s taken three times a day, two pills at the same time. I took once last night before I went to bed, once this morning, and once this afternoon. It’s evening now so I took another. Look, there are eight little holes, just about the four times I took them.” 

He went silent for some time, “Drink the water then.” 

“I’m not taking any pills, why should I?”

His face went a shade darker than it already was, registering annoyance and impatience, “Drink more warm water to recover quickly.”

He couldn’t possibly cared about me, could he? But his face said otherwise. 

You lifted the glass and blew across it before taking a sip. As a token of appreciation.

For a few minutes, there was silence. No one spoke a word. 

The warmth of the glass radiated through your hands as you clutched it. You hesitated to say anything. But then, you asked a question that you should not have asked. “She probably didn’t know about our marriage, did she?”

Whether he may be feigning ignorance or not, he questioned back, “Who?”

“Sooyoung!” As soon as it left your mouth you regretted them. 

Beyond doubt, his facial expression changed to that you could not tell if he was shocked or grew alarmed. 

“You know her?”

You mentally rolled your eyes, how could you not? You and him were both from the same high school and it was not all that rare you saw him sending her back home, ate together in the canteen and also tutored her in the library.

“Oh, she was our high school’s beauty queen, how could I not know her?” You were faking it.

It was as if he had a flash of remembrance of the fact that you were, indeed, from the same high school as him. He nodded and hummed. 

Tch, tch! Sooyoung was not even our high school’s beauty queen, it was Jieun!

It had been a year since Jennie left Korea, afterall she was born and raised as a legit Korean, eventually her lifestyle still bore traces of her origin. At those times she was in New Zealand, she was skinnier than she once was and spent less money on clothes than she once did. Which pretty much gave her the reason to go all crazy shopping and challenging the possibilities in an unlimited credit card. 

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Just take it as a wedding gift.” And she did not miss the chance to pamper you as well. It was not like you could object her intention anyway, but it would be better if she stuffed your pockets with cash than buying you that overpriced piece of denim skirt. Just saying.

At some point in time, you underestimated her energy after all the walking and shopping, she was livelier than you were, who was already flopping on her king-sized bed like a dead fish. She pulled at your arm, practically dragging you up to a standing position and forced you into slipping on the newly bought skirt. Then she began dolling yourselves up for her #mirrorselfie and uploading it to KakaoStory with the caption: Couple look with Wifey! It’s been awhile! ♡

You could not help but giggled lightly. It was like you were back to college years once again, where in the dormitory reenacting roles in historical dramas and addressing each other by Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness and My Lady. So you left a comment: Thanks Hubby for the gift!

No longer after the post was reacted by your old classmates and friends. You scrolled through the chains of comments until you reached the bottom, where you surprisingly saw a comment from the one and only Jung Yoonoh. 

What? That lad even comments on social media now? Is he out of his mind?

That replied though, he was definitely out of his mind. It was only a single word, and the word that women hated the most: Ugly.

You contemplated for a moment, had you wanted to fire back at him. However just when it was about to send through, a surge of brilliance stopped you and reminded that all your basic needs were benefited from the saint, you had to mind your words and not to offend the lad. 

Another day of scrounging dinner at the Kim’s, it was only eight when you returned home. The first thing that greeted you was the sight of Jung Yoonoh sitting on the couch with a towel wrapped around his waist and a laptop perched on his lap. 

“Oh? You’re early today!” You said to him while switching into your pair of fluffy room shoes.

His long, lean fingers walked and leaped across the keyboard and he did not lift his head to look at you. “This is my house, do I have to report it to you when I come back anytime?”

You rolled your eyes but wisely held your tongue. You were about to make your way upstairs to freshen up when he called after you, in which you turn to him as you tried to keep the annoyance off your face, “What?”

“Make dinner.”

“No, I already ate.”

“I haven’t.”

“Go make it yourself then!”

Finally, he lifted his head and the look of impatience painted over his face. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“What does that have to do with me?”

He barked, “That’s what women supposed to do!”

You roared back, “Ask Sooyoung to make it for you then!”

After you spoke the hasty words, you regretted them. 

You both instantly went silent. A fraction of a minute later, Yoonoh closed his laptop with a loud *smack* and turned to go upstairs. 

You stayed rooted to the spot, feeling a strange, distressing internal conflict. In saying so, didn’t you just indirectly tell him that you knew there was something going on between him and Sooyoung?

You took a shower and sat in your room, towel drying your hair while listening for any sound of movement from downstairs. Assumably he would make dinner for himself since you refused to, however, there was no sound at all.

Your hair was half-dried, and in the end you were not able to continue being hard-hearted so you pretended to go downstairs to fetch a glass of water and, in coincidence, walked past the kitchen. But there was no silhouette of Yoonoh.

Your mind immediately relived the time where his mother held onto your hands so dearly and exhorted you to take good care of Yoonoh, words about handing over her only son to you and some sort as he could not take care of himself well. For the sake of his mother, you made him a hearty meal. 

It was nothing fancy, just basic home cooking of the most you could do. Then you went upstairs and knocked on his door. There was no answer. You knocked again. No answer. With your patience wearing thin, you scolded behind wooden door, but even so there was no response. 

Is he seriously being ridiculous right now? How old is he? Five?

You took the spare key to his room, opened the door and switched on the lights, but there was no one inside. So you went to his bathroom. Saw none. Rounded his study, still nobody in sight. 

This jerk, he couldn’t possibly went out when I was in the shower?

A sudden unanticipated disappointment filled you, then it slowly grew into grievance. Without a second thought you dashed downstairs and dumped platefuls of hot food into the bin. 

While washing the dishes, a slippery plate slid from your hands from harsh scrubbing and dropped to the floor where it shattered into pieces. 

You felt worse than before and your intelligence plummeted as your mood did that you picked up the wreckage of the plate with your bare hands and in the process you accidentally cut yourself.

You had no idea if it was because of the excruciating pain or the oppression you had gone through, tears streamed down your face at such an intensity that you thought you were walking in the storm. 

Next day when you woke up, inside the kitchen sink there still remained unwashed dishes, glass shards still littered the floor, there were still blood stains, and Yoonoh still had not come home. 

He probably had a feast last night, right? A man like him that wouldn’t have to trouble himself, how would he be left to starve, right? Moreover, he would’ve spent on Sooyoung as well, a fancy candlelight dinner even! Pft. 

Whether Yoonoh was throwing a tantrum, or had he already became fed up with wherever you were, ever since that night of bickering, he had not been back for three days. And there was not even a call from him. Though he got on your nerves all the time and you disliked every bit of him, you worried about him. It was inevitable.

In the end, you could not hide your concern and went to his company in search of him. Found out that he had went on a business trip and would be back by a week. 

Right when you reached home, you were informed that your parents flew over from Ulsan. When you went to pick them up at the airport, the two oldies kept glancing over behind your back, you knew what they were up to but much to their regret you had to tell them, “Stop looking. Your dearest son-in-law went on a business trip. He couldn’t make it.”

It was only then they held back their bulging eyes which almost popped out of their sockets. 

Wheeling their suitcases and walking a few steps behind your parents, you breathed a silent sigh…

You and Yoonoh had grown up in the same neighbourhood where your doors faced each other, and eventually developed a strong bond between both households. You were always at each other’s houses when little, Yoonoh was an only child and his mother had always wanted a daughter, but his father had passed on at an early age and his mother refused to remarry as well. And because you had always scrounge for free meals at the Jung’s, his mother then claimed you as her own child. 

Even if Yoonoh was discontented with your regular visits, he could not utter a single word of complaint before his mother. However behind that, he called you shameless for doing so. 

But you, avoided all costs of verbal dispute and resumed chomping down the cookie that his mother gave you where he had none, was enough to drown him in suffocating anger. 

It was as if he was putting on a revenge on you that he showed up at your house as well for good food. Though he had a better understanding than you in pleasing the adults. He would wash his dishes and put it back in the cabinet, while the kids in your family would just throw everything aside and skipped away for cartoons. Which explained why your mother adored him more than her own seedlings. 

He needed not to munch on cookies, merely the way your mother compared you all to him was enough to trigger your bunch of siblings. 

Yoonoh had already been a bad-tempered boy when he was born. Besides his mother, practically no one was in his line of sight. He frequently bruised the kids in your neighbourhood and even though those adults told their children to stay away from him yet you were not afraid of him at all. 

Though he did not like you any better, he would never hit you. Because you were not dumb like others to always get to his bottom line. Contrastingly, in a corner, you would throw pebbles to whoever he was fighting with. However every single time those wicked losers would come over his house with their parents seeking for justice, and it was unavoidable for Yoonoh to be punished by his mother. It be kneeling in repent and some spankings.

You had always wanted to tell his mother that it was never his fault, instead it was the others who had thrown awful insults at him. But often when you were about to speak up, his death glare immediately shut you up, as if he would pounce on you once a word left your mouth. 

Over time when one another grown a little, the kids in your regional neighbourhood were humorously defeated not only in terms of stature, but his personality, modesty, gentility, excellence in education, as well as his outstanding looks. Whereby the kids no longer had the guts to provoke him to anger, and would not want to pick a fight on him. He did not bother about those disgustingly dirty kids who played marbles on the ground either way. 

It was truly despondent that you were still unpleasant in his eyes. No matter what, as long as you were involved in even the tiny littlest thing that, unfortunately, he caught on to, he would mock and ridicule you about it. 

And of course, unlike the others in your neighbourhood, you would not change your perception towards him just because of his transformation, regardless his exceptional qualities, he was still the Jung Yoonoh who seeks revenge for the smallest grievance, the Jung Yoonoh who was short-tempered. 

The past was of such flash-like episodes, yet in your childhood was all about Yoonoh’s, his forbearance, his incisive wit, his irreconciliation, his courageousness, his senselessness, and many many more, even of the simplest recollection of the past, it was limitless. 

Apparently your parents were not here with the prime intent to see you, it was your nephew who recently got admitted to the hospital so they were here to pay a visit. And it was only then they remembered that you and Yoonoh were in Seoul as well so they decided to drop by along the way.

Even if they dropped round your house for awhile, it made you wary of the current situation where you and Yoonoh were seemingly in a cold war. Yet your parents chose the wrong timing. 

You tiptoed into the bathroom and made a call to Yoonoh while your parents were not looking, but you were left wondering what was the point of him getting a phone if he never answered. 

Just in case, you sent him a text, and to be honest you had no expectation of a reply. But as soon as it was transmitted, the lad called you back. The tone of his voice did not sound so good as he began. 

“What do you mean pretend?”

“Well… I…”

“I was on a business trip in the first place, don’t make it sound like I’m you.” He was making an oblique reference to your parasitic lifestyle. 

The contents of your message were:

So here, the current situation was that you had a request to make to him, so you passively accepted his humiliation and refrained from biting back. While he was still on the line, hurriedly you stepped out into the living room. 

“Hello? Jung… Yoonoh, you must be tired, aren’t you? Did you eat well and get enough sleep?” In order to have your parents believed that you both were truly and madly in love, you spoke in a voice so soft, so gentle. 

However the jerk he was saw it as a chance to poke fun of you, “You think that I’ll have the appetite with your voice sounding like that?” 

You had really wanted to scold him for it but your mother came to you and reached for the phone. As you handed it over, you did not miss the chance and indicatively cleared your throat and said, “Mom wants to talk to you.”

Then, you heard your mother murmured abstractly. Unsure of what Yoonoh said to her, just that she was glowing brighter than a rainbow trout if you had not noticed.

You dug in the refrigerator and pulled out ingredients for dinner when your mother barged in and snatched away the kitchen knife and shoved the phone back into your hands. “There’s nothing for you to do in here. Get out and have a nice talk with your husband.”

With the phone clutched in your hand as you stomped into the living room, your father was seated comfortably on the couch reading newspaper, while for that someone over the line, you were lost for words. 

To be frank, there was nothing you could talk about with him!

You did not say a word, he did not sound like he was going to, you both were quiet for a little more and lastly you were the one to break the silence. 

“Oh? You’re having a meeting? Alright, I’ll hang up now. Yes, yes. I’ll take care of mom and dad, don’t worry.” Without hesitation you ended the call. 

Ever since you got married to Yoonoh, it had been awhile since you had eaten your mother’s cooking, it was what you missed the most. As soon as you hung up the phone, you skipped into the kitchen to snatch a mouthful or two but once again your mother kicked you out.

There was some time before dinner was ready so you went upstairs to take a shower. However it was never to your expectation that, during the interval of having a complete shower, another being showed up downstairs in the living room. 

With surprise at what you saw, you stood atop the steps for a moment. Rubbing your eyes as to confirm the reality of his presence, you stumbled over and questioned him in disbelief, “How did— back— here?”

In normal times he would definitely be lifting his chin in an arrogant sneer, “This is my house, why do you even care?”

But thankfully he was humane as he spoke before your parents, “Mom and dad came to visit us once in a while, how could I not be back?”

Your father was undeniably moved and said, “Work is important, we’re here for a short while only. Don’t let it interfere with your job.”

A gentle, harmless smile was still on his face as he spoke, that for a second you almost forgotten his true nature. “Don’t worry, dad. I’ve arranged everything before I came back.” 

“That’s good.”

He sure was a great actor. 

Your mother used to be the head chef of a restaurant and therefore it had become a practice to prepare a table of food of a vast variety. 

Yoonoh courteously pulled out a chair for your mother and seated her at the table, then it was as if he was out of his mind, he went round to pull out a chair for you as well, acting like a complete gentleman. 

During dinner, your mother occasionally picked up a morsel of food and filled his bowl but never once for you. Right when you were stuffing rice in your mouth in nothing but insane jealousy and doubting if Yoonoh was her biological son instead, the man with the surname Jung picked up a piece of meat and put it in your bowl, then added, 

“Honey, eat a lot. You’re getting thinner!”

*Intense choking*

You were not expecting that and surely were taken aback by the intimate form of address. The grains were on their way down your throat as you started choking and coughing and sputtered on like a useless engine. With your tear-filled eyes, you went to fetch a glass of water. After a few sips and a bit more coughing you calmed down again. 

All the while you glared at him but he pretended as if nothing ever happened and continued his ministrations of apple-polishing your mother. 

It was kind of late when dinner was over. Your parents had been visiting at your aunt’s for the day before hopping to another stop at your house. You understood that it was beyond tiring for the elders of nearing fifty years of age so you made them stay for the night. 

You did not forget to evaluate any changes of expression on Yoonoh’s face, after all he was the homeowner. It was to your consideration that if he did show a slither of unwillingness, you would take it as an excuse that the guest room was yet to be organized and cleaned up and tagged along your parents to stay at the hotel. 

Though you never thought that he was sensible, there was no sign of disapproval, yet with greater fervour than you when he insisted your parents to stay for the night. Which he even said how the house was desolate and quiet with just the two of you and it was then finally the household was liven up. 

Your parents were easily persuaded in that case, there was a moment’s hesitation before agreeing. However you suddenly regret with the idea of their stay, because your mother broke into a wide grin as she eyed your belly, “You two should work hard while you’re still young. Very soon you’ll have a jolly time.”

Simultaneously you and Yoonoh were drowned into awkwardness and your eyes drifted towards one another for a second. 

That night, it was like your parents were truly heading for the goal of giving life to this dullsville, they strongly disagreed to your ‘aabb’ rooming system and insisted upon ‘abab’. There was no room for discussion even though they were supposedly the guests and then you and Yoonoh were forced into the same room. 

You looked back to the door that was slammed shut behind you in total despair, something within you was stirring. The heck, why does this feel so awkward?

To conceal your agitation, you ignored his presence and glanced around his room, scanning everywhere. Honestly, though you were three months married, on the fingers of one hand you could count the number of times you had entered his room. And those times were no longer than a minute. 

You did not expect his room to be this simple and… bare. Not in a way that the finishings were improperly done, his room was basically decoration-free. 

A desk was set directly before a large floor-to-ceiling windows, a nightstand by the bed, a book sitting on top of it, two wardrobes occupied the other end of the room. Other than that, there was not even a small-sized pot of air purification plant. 

It was monochromatic and painfully neat like a hotel suite. Was it to him that just a place to sleep?

On the east was the ensuite bathroom. Yoonoh was already disrobing himself as soon as he got in. You knew that he wanted to take a shower, which he clearly was not implying anything else, however…

“Can you— Can you go inside to change…” You could feel your face burning crimson. Even though you were cool with anything and brazen all along, it did not mean that you would not be shaken up when a man openly put up a strip show before your very eyes. 

Yoonoh cast a careless glance in your direction, his hands that were unbuttoning his dress shirt paused with the job half done, his face demonstrating the slightest bit of hesitation as if he too, realized that it was inappropriate to take off his clothes in front of a woman. 

Nonetheless, Jung Yoonoh who was haughty and high-minded in the extreme as ever would never yield to you either way. His moving hands that stopped for no more than ten seconds began undoing the buttons once again. 

“This is my room. I can take off my shirt wherever I want.” As soon as he finished pronouncing the last word, the garment slid off completely and showcased his milky skin, physical strength evident in the muscles of his forearms, lines that ran in to his waist and then down over the cut of his hips, thick ridges sculpted his abdomen. 

It was unbelievable he had such great physique. He must have gone to the gym often. 

Your body, your face burned still more when you heard the unmistakable metallic clinking of a belt being unbuckled. Immediately you whipped your head away from him. 

After all the scuffling of Yoonoh removing every article of clothing in existence, he stepped into the bathroom. Only when the door swung shut with a loud swoosh and clicked closed you dared to turn around. Subconsciously taking a peek over the pile of clothes on the floor, it was purely accidental you saw a pair of navy Calvins.

This pervert, how dare he stripped naked and not even be cautious that you might turn around without warning?

When Yoonoh was finished he emerged with a towel wrapped around his hips. Not even once he spared a glance in your direction as he headed to the nightstand while drying his hair with a smaller towel. He picked up the only book and took a seat on the chair by the large windows and began reading in leisure. 

You were still stood in the same spot, still contemplating whereto your feet should set upon. Truthfully you were already feeling drowsy. Yet, in spite of that, you had not had the nerve to climb onto his bed. There was only one bed in his room, other than that you could sleep on, you had no choice in the matter. 

He kept no extra blankets in his room and could not even make up a bed on the floor. You felt unsettled and perturbed inside, you riddled with anxiety over him fixing you up for the night. Well, you were definitely overthinking it. Thought the kind of person Yoonoh was would be aware of your existence? Dream on. Until his hair was dried, he climbed into the bed, giving absolutely no thought at all to where you were going to sleep. 

The weather had been very cold for several days, had on your thin clothes, your skin broke out in goosebumps for being exposed to the chill air. There was no way you were going to stand there forever waiting for a miracle. On what basis you were to bear the freeze while he was sleeping so comfortably on the warm bed? Being therefore thick-skinned from the thought of injustice, you proceeded to climb into the other side of the bed, pulling the blanket over your shoulders until you were cocooned in its warmth. 

You were pretty sure that Yoonoh would pick on you and you had a ready comeback for that. With every second that passed, however, his eyes were fixed on the book as he flipped through the pages before he switched off the bedside lamp, slid under the covers and went to sleep with his back turned to you. 

You were faced with the floor-to-ceiling windows, the curtains were opened and the bright city lights of Seoul looked like fairy lights in a distance. You attempted to distract yourself with the view and trying to actively suppress the feelings of nervousness. The more you suppress, the more they erupted with volcanic force and your heartbeat increased threefold. 

For it was the first time in your entire life, to share a bed with a man. The man was Jung Yoonoh and most importantly… he was completely naked. 

Your face flared for the umpteenth time that night. You squeezed your eyes shut with all effort to keep your mind from wandering far and wide, across topics best ignored. The world fell to a blank, dead silence but it was strange, unusual. As if there was a significant heat radiating from his body had seeped through that you felt yourself heating up even more in response. You wiggled your way upward, getting ready to lift the thick covers—

“Move again, you’re getting off.” Yoonoh growled suddenly and you were too scared to stir around by then.

After a brief internal struggle, sleep finally claimed you without knowing yourself when or how, but it was not the peaceful sleep. You began tossing, turning and shuffling the covers trying to get in a comfortable position. Abruptly, you felt something warm and soft which gave you an illusion of your fluffy white throw pillow. You reached over and hugged it tight, nuzzling into the puff of cloud and blissful contentment permeated every cell of your body. 

However, it seemed like it was getting warmer and warmer, like an electric blanket on a cold December night. Your skin burned and stung. You wanted to lift off the covers, but strangely, you found yourself unable to move. 

At that moment, you were sure you were sleep paralyzed, which you had experienced a couple of times during your life so it was not new, but even so it felt unusual. You had only felt numbness throughout your entire body, you could not open your eyes. Or speak. The weight crushed on you this time radiated the heat of boiling mercury, and there was something unknown that tunneled beneath your shirt. 

[thebutterflyestate]

I'm back [T. K. x Reader]

I'm back

tanjiro kamado x helper! reader

"Hey listen, I know it's impossible to tell you this, but don't get hurt, ok? Too hurt." You clenched your hands tight together, watching Tanjiro's back as he tied his sandals and adjust the box on his back by the Butterfly Estate's entrance.

He flashed you a grin, a grin that made your heart quickly flutter and your cheeks turn red," I'll try not to, (Name)!"

A helpless smile stretched across your lips as you crossed your arms on your chest, tilting your head to the side. He gave you a wave and you waved back, watching as he left through the open door.

And he was gone again.

You dropped your arms to your sides and slouch, releasing a sigh as you deflated. You began to wonder when will be the next time you will see him even though he just left.

A smack on the lower region of your back caused you to stand straight and feel a stinging sensation climb up your spine, you yelped in pain and turned to see Aoi with a small smirk on her lips. The pig tailed girl giggled at the glare you gave her.

"He just left, (Name) -chan, geez. If you really like seeing Tanjiro-kun, you might as well become a demon slayer too. Who knows!" She shrugged.

"You know I'm not exactly a healty baby, Aoi." You pouted and she smiled.

"Yeah, that's why you're stuck with me." She looped her arm aroun yours then dragged you, "Enough about ypur crush, let's do the laundry! I'm sure he'll be back for you--er, I hope not, that means injuries!"

"C-crush?! He's not my crush!!"

"Sure, sure." Aoi rolled her eyes.

You are a mere helper around the Butterfly Estate like Aoi was, you help around with a lot of things like laundry , medication, cooking, and all that domestic stuff. And since you were one of the seniors among the orphans, you did a ton of work even though it is alreasy halved between you and Aoi.

No one has really caught your eye before nor interested you, even though some of the girls would prod you or tease you to find a lover already, but you were hellbent and just loved to serve the people in the Butterfly Estate.

That is, until, Tanjiro Kamado, came.

Actually, you didn't have a good first impression of him. For God's sake, he had been carrying a demon with him and the reason you were an orphan was because of demons so it would make sense why you'd hate the said creature with much passion. You'd always be wary around him and his sister whom he carried around in the box although he was really nice and understanding.

"I understand why you'd hate us, (Surname) - san." He would say with his kind big eyes that would just make you feel guilty. He kind of looked like a puppy.

He and his friends were in the Estate for a few days after the Mt. Natagumo incident and you helped take care of them for their recovery and even the functional recovery training.

"(Name)-san, you always seem sad... is there a reason why?" He would ask you a couple of times which you refused but it came to the point that he annoyed you and you just answered him whilst you were aggressively making riceballs.

"...I'm sad because I gave up from saving my family so quickly as soon as I saw them getting mauled by demons. Manwhile... you... you were able to do something. You didn't give up. I just-I just feel like I'm someone not worth deserving of living."

He gave you a thoughtful look. His eyes telling you kindnes and warmth," But you're here helping people out, aren't you? You're saving more lives than you can imagine now. What heppened in our past, it is always different for everyone. I think I'm just lucky but so are you, I'm lucky that you patched me back up!"

Petty. But you started to see him in a new light. He was adorable and you began feeling things for him and opened up. Even Aoi was shocked to see you approaching the Kamado siblings all on your own outside of medical work.

°°°

after red light district

"Oh, my god, oh, my god." You fanned your face, tears threatening to fall down your face. Just a few weeks ago, Tanjiro and the boys saved you and the girls from Tengen, the Wind Pillar, from bringing two of you to the Red Light District. But in excahnge for that, they returned with life-threatening injuries.

The girls scrambled about, getting things ready while you were standing next to the Insect Pillar, Shinobu, eaiting for orders with Aoi. Aoi was ordered to take care of Zenitsu and she immediately sped off to the treating room with two Kakushis carrying the said boy.

While you're in the midst of your mini-panic and frantic moving, a hand was placed over your head and you looked up to see Tanjiro, weakly smiling at you from the Kakushi who was carrying him.

"I'm back." He said with a soft voice then he just fainted again. Tears streamed down your face, Shinobu calmed tou down.

"I'm entrusting Tanjiro-kun to you," She said as she gestured for the Kakushi carrying Inosuke to her treating room. You bowed and spoke out orders for the Kakushi carrying Tanjiro and he obliged. Another Kakushi followed with the Nezuko box.

Needless to say, you worked on Tanjiro's beat up body for three hours, making sure to delicately clap back his dislocates bones and stitch up the large lacerations and gashes before wrapping him in a lot of bandages. Almost mummifing him.

After you quadruple checked if he was completely patched, you also checked on his sister who was fine and was just in a deep sleep in her box. Shinobu later on came in your treateing room and helped you transfer Tanjiro to a solo recovery room, attaching needles and an IV so his body would still receive the nutrition he needs.

You gave a worried look over the boy after tucking him in, Shinobu glanced over her shoulder and smiled, turning to you, "You must be really fond of him, are you?"

"... I am." You admitted, tgere was no use hiding it from your master.

"He's lucky that his angel patched him up verynicely ans carefully." She giggled and a blush bloomed on to your cheeks.

°°°

two months later

You were sulking your way back to the Estate with groceries on your arms. You have been grumpy and lifeless, as of late. Aoi and the girls had been calling you a virus since your sulkiness seems to affect them as well whenever you're close by. That's probably why Shinobu sent you to fetch groceries instead of Kanao or Aoi, you must have had an effect on your master, too. They all figured that the cause of your distress was Tanjiro. He had been asleep for am

A step through the path and you were escorted back to the Estate by a Kakushi. You thanked them before they left and went through the front gates.

"Oh, those look heavy, I'll help out!"

Your jaw nearly met the ground, your eyes as wide as teacup saucers when you saw Tanjiro standing by the garden, doing warm-ups and stretching. He beamed upin seeing you, he went up to you and grabbed some bags from your hands while you were still dumbfounded.

"I just woke up a few hours ago while you were gone! I'm glad to see you doing well, (Name) - san!" He chirped alriugh he was getting worried as to why you won't speak and the look on your face said that you look like you have seen a ghost.

"I-I-I-wha-" You stammered, finding no words to say as tears of joy began to form on your waterline. You dropped the groceries left in your hands and then pulled him into a gentle hug.

He chuckled and hugged back, rubbing your back to comfort you then you pulled away, pecking his lips quickly with tears in your eyes. He looked atvyou in shock, cheeks turning red.

"I-I'm back??" He stammered.

"You idiot! You had me worried! And you already said that!" You sniffled and hugged him again. He grinned and hugged you tight.

"I'm sorry, (Name) but I'll always come back to you, you know that, right?"

"That better not be a sign that you're coming back bloody beaten." You pulled away glaring.

"N-no, that's not it!"

[hallowed-be-thy-username]

If You’re Good At Something, Never Do It For Free Chapter One: In Need Of Some Assistance

I figured I’d post the first chapter of my WIP on here! TDK Joker x Original Female Character. It is currently at 17 out of ? (Where it stops, nobody knows!) chapters on AO3! 

**Warnings for full fic include: Graphic violence, explicit language, blood and gore, smut smut smut, graphic depiction of corpses, murder, aaaand recreational drug use!**

Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! I might eventually put all of the chapters up on here or check it out on AO3!

Meet Nora Hawthorne. She spent her time like most Gotham residents. Go to work, go home, keep up with the news. That changed one night. Her life becomes even more interesting after Gotham's own Clown Prince of Crime comes crashing in with a life-threatening injury, leaving her questioning her morals as well as her romantic desires

Jesus, it’s been a long day. A woman with brunette hair above her shoulders, wearing a pair of loose teal green scrubs stands from her desk chair to twist her torso until a satisfying *crack* is heard, followed by a deep sigh. The noise of her tired spine popping into alignment is heard only by her as she stands alone in the treatment area of the now empty veterinary hospital. The brick structure sits between an apartment building and a law firm in West Harlow, the Gotham City neighborhood west of downtown, adjacent to The Narrows. This location makes Dr. Nora Hawthorne one busy veterinarian. On a daily basis she tends to anything from impatient businessmen toting in their wives’ teacup Yorkies with a little cough to large Rottweilers with deep neck wounds. To say she’s gained a variety of experience is an understatement.

She doesn’t own the place, though. Two years out of school and 30 years old means she has some hefty bills to pay. Dr. Moore owns the clinic. Taking this job meant long hours and a busy schedule with not much sympathy from David Moore. “Your generation expects everything handed to them, don’t you? I had to work harder than this to get where I am,” as he just loved to remind her of every time she requested time off for a little… what is it called again? Oh right, work-life balance. Sure, Moore. Enjoy your mini mansion in Uptown since it seems you have no problem balancing the weight of your business on a pair of younger shoulders. Even if it means those shoulders are constantly wound up in to deep knots that no amount of morning yoga can seem to unravel. But she can’t quit. Those bills to pay threaten to pile higher and she’s afraid of heights. Plus, job security in Gotham is hard to come by. Especially since the Joker escaped from Arkham two months ago.

That was in May. Everyone in the city has been on edge since then and the Summer heat is not helping. The days go by but not a peep has been heard in regard to the Clown Prince of Crime’s whereabouts. Same for the Batman. The eerie silence has only been making it worse. The traffic congesting the city streets increases in intensity every evening as Gotham’s citizens rush home in an effort to avoid getting caught up in whatever devastating scheme the Joker has been cooking up during his involuntary vacation. But the threat never comes, leaving the city’s inhabitants to nervously watch and wait. Maybe it won’t come. Maybe he left Gotham for good. Left to terrorize a new city. Wishful thinking is what gets us all through the day. But the tension still weighs on everyone’s nerves, making Nora’s day that much harder when she gets an earful from her clients on a regular basis for things that are out of her control. “Sir, you don’t need to speak to me like that. I did not give your cat a urinary tract infection,” is not something she thought she’d ever find herself saying.

It is what it is. All she can do is keep her head on her shoulders and do her job, care for Gotham’s only truly innocent citizens. Animals don’t dwell in the past, they only live in the present. In that regard, they’re smarter than the majority of Gotham’s inhabitants. She made it her job to advocate for their health and well-being, since they can’t do it themselves. Nora was staying late to finish medical records for the sea of patients the clinic took in that day and she wanted it all recorded while it was fresh in her brain. If you don’t write it down, it didn’t happen. She told her assistant, “You go on home, I’ll just be here finishing notes. Get some rest.” The heavy set women expressed her concern for Dr. Hawthorne being here by herself but the job has gotten her used to being out well after dark. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep the door locked,” was the response her assistant, Jen, would always get in return. She didn’t want to argue so she would leave Nora to her work within the off-white walls of the dimly lit hospital in silence.

Nora stretched once more and shifted a glance to the clock on the wall. 9:58pm. Had it been fourteen hours already? Her stomach responded with a growl as if to answer in the affirmative. The hard-working staff finished cleaning the treatment room a couple of hours ago leaving the two metal tables in the center of the room shiny and ready for whatever tomorrow brings. The room wasn’t very large but the open design left ample room for patient care. The treatment tables against the walls opposite from each other extended toward the center of the room, leaving a four foot space between them, and had ceiling-mounted exam lights above them. Along the walls there were shelves of neatly organized equipment and tools. Essentials. White medical tape, boxes of gloves, bandage scissors, IV catheters in a variety of sizes, thermometers, bottles of isopropyl alcohol and hydrogen peroxide, jars with gauze soaked in chlorhexidine scrub, sterile lubricant, needles and syringes, and bandage material being among the most heavily utilized items. Along the back wall is a bank of cages and kennels for patients spending the day in the clinic (any patients in need of continued care were transferred to a nearby twenty four-hour hospital) flanked by drawers full of IV fluids and sterilized tools. The back right corner of the room opened into a short hallway leading to the area that housed a small surgical suite, devoid of any light this time of night, where a cart with monitors and a gas anesthesia circuit sat in wait for its next use. Just beyond this suite is a small door marked “Radiology” indicating the digital X-ray equipment kept inside, keeping radiation exposure to the rest of the place at a minimum. Nora’s desk is in the back left corner of the treatment room, a shelf full of medical reference books sitting above her head.  Also that “World’s Greatest Dog-tor” certificate Jen gave her last Spring. Nora didn’t have the heart to tell her she found it kind of insulting.

With the last medical record completed, details of the day’s procedures noted in succinct but thorough language, it was time for the doctor to make her way back to her nearby apartment for some much needed rest. She left her seldom-worn long white lab coat on the back of her chair where it always was and removed the black stethoscope from around her neck to place it on her desk. Walking toward the red-lit exit sign above the side door leading to the alley, she flicked the switch to turn the remaining lights off. She usually had a small can of pepper spray readied in her hand when she left alone at a late hour. But Nora had been practically beaten into the ground with exhaustion at this point and her thoughts were instead centered around a hot shower and her soft bed.

She opened the door to receive a gust of warm night air to her face, intensifying her sleepy feelings. Letting out a rather large yawn, she turned to put her keys in the door to lock it. As she removed the key from the lock, she felt a strange sensation on the back her neck. Like a crawling of her skin, a feeling of dread. Before she could turn around in search of the source of her body’s sudden danger signal, a purple glove slammed onto the door next to her head. Her eyes snapped to the glove and she froze, unable to breathe, while her heart jumped into her throat.

“Evening, doc,” a nasally, raspy voice said. She slowly turned her head to find herself face to face with the Joker himself, leaning with his gloved hand against the door. His makeup was smudged wildly and he was wearing his signature purple overcoat and suit. All color drained from Nora’s face as her breathing quickened to a practically panting rate, the idea of sleep drowned in a surge of adrenaline. Before she could make a sound his other gloved hand clapped over her mouth, a knife tucked between his thumb and index finger, the blade laying flat across the top of his hand.

“Ahh tah tah, no screamin’, doc. Wouldn’t want to wake the neighbors, would we?” he said, his dark eyes staring straight into hers. Nora struggled to regain her composure, it did her no good to panic. She knew begging and crying would get her nowhere with the Joker. Better to have as clear a head as possible. She took a sharp inhale through her nose. The wave of gasoline and extinguished matches that met her nostrils was overwhelming. It almost made her dizzy. But she slowly let the breath back out through her nose. Their gaze into each other’s eyes, hers wide with fear, his black and hooded, had not been broken since his zeroed in on hers. It was like magnets were keeping her eyes on his, no matter how hard she tried to look away, she couldn’t do it.

“Now. I’m going to move my hand and youuu are not gonna scream. Got it?” his voice getting slightly higher as he spoke. Without thinking Nora nodded slowly, still not breaking their stare, as he slid his hand from over her mouth.

She allowed herself to blink. Then, trying not to let her voice crack, she quietly said, “H-How did you know I’m a doctor?” Stupid stupid stupid. You are an idiot Nora Hawthorne.

Joker let out a breathy giggle and Nora’s gaze then fixated on his mouth. His scars. They were even more striking up close. Nora was no stranger to stitching up wounds and these must have been awful. She didn’t want him to see her eyeing them so she shifted her eyes back up to his.

“Who else would be here this la-te, hm?” Nora couldn’t do anything but open her mouth and shake her head, her eyebrows knitted together with anxiety.

Still bracing himself against the building on his left hand planted on top of the door he said, “Enough with the formalities doc. I am in need for some, uh, assistance, you see.” It was then that the doctor noticed the Joker’s breathing. It was shallow and rather fast. Like he couldn’t catch his breath but was trying to. Oh shit, what does he mean by that. She wasn’t sure how she didn’t notice his labored breathing until now. She supposed being paralyzed with fear would do that to a person. Nora watched as the Joker then lifted the flap of his coat from his right side, revealing a two inch wide piece of glass sticking out from between his ribs. There was blood trailing from it, down his green vest. She gasped. He dropped the fabric and grabbed her by the chin, jerking her head so her eyes met his yet again.

“So, my little doctor, youuu are going to provide said assistance-ah,” he growled. Nora’s eyes grew even wider.

“Wait wait, what? No no I’m a veterinarian, I’m not a human doctor,” she said in a panicked voice. Yeah, nice one, Hawthorne.

“I can read, doc,” the Joker said, gesturing to the painted door that read Gotham City Veterinary Urgent Care. “I know you’ve got what I need in that pretty little head of yours.” He tried to stifle a gasping sound from his throat as he attempted to inhale before speaking again. “I am an animal after all aren’t I, hm?” he said, leaning his head forward and bouncing his eyebrows suggestively. Nora was stunned.

“Why me? Why did you come here for help?”

“Can’t quite go to the emergency room, can I doc? Besides, you take care of little doggies and kitties all day. Just think of meee as a lost little, uh, puppy,” he said, shifting his weight to put his knife-wielding right hand against the door on the other side of her head so Nora was trapped beneath him, their noses inches apart.

Fear bubbled its way up into her head again. She couldn’t think straight. How did Gotham’s most notorious criminal end up here, in front of her, with a life-threatening injury? It didn’t matter how, it only mattered that now it was happening. But, how could she justify helping the Joker? He caused so much death and destruction to this city, her city. She could do her best to fight, she might stand a chance against him in this weakened state. But he was the Joker. He’d probably still be able to slit her throat faster than she could get out from under him. He was the Joker but he also was a person. A person in what she was sure was a significant amount of pain. Another gasping sound made its way out of Joker’s mouth.

“Haven’t got all night, doc.”

Nora’s expression softened. What the fuck am I getting myself into?

“Ok,” she said, lifting her keys and turning to unlock the door.

[elisaphoenix13]

(AT) To Bring Them Home

A more in depth version of Remembering The Departed (but with Harley and Cassie added so other fics fit).

"Hey Mama Bear. If you find this recording, don't post it on social media. It's gonna be a real tear jerker." Tony sighs heavily and leans back against the wall of the ship. " It's not like you're ever going to see these anyway. I watched you fade to nothing in front of me after all. You and Peter. I guess I'm recording these for my own sanity. It helps to pretend you're getting these messages. Totally lame right?"

The engineer clears his parched throat. He was desperate for anything to moisten his mouth at this point.

"Today's day twenty-one? No. Twenty-two. You know if it wasn't for the existential terror of staring into the literal void of space, I'd say I'm feeling a little better today. The infection has run its course thanks to the blue meanie back there." He weakly motions to Nebula somewhere in the vicinity behind him. "Oh you'd love her. Very practical. Only a tiny bit sadistic."

Stephen probably would like the cyborg. He may have been cautious of her at first, but if she treated the kids well, the sorcerer would have immediately warmed up  to Nebula. The poor woman just needed a friend.

"So the fuel cells were cracked during battle and we figured out a way to reverse the ion charge by ourselves and bought 48 hours of flight time. But it's now dead in the water a thousand light years from the nearest 7-11. Oxygen will run out tomorrow morning, and that'll be it." Tony rubs his eyes. "It looks like...well you know what it looks like. Don't feel bad about this. I mean actually if you grovel for a couple weeks and then move on with enormous guilt..." He trails off as he fights off the impending lure of sleep.

"I should probably lie down for a minute. Rest my eyes. If by some miracle I make it back home, the first thing I'm going to do is look for Harley and Diana. God I hope they're still at home. If I go home and they're gone too...I don't know what I'm going to do." He would very likely off himself but he didn't need to say that. Tony was sure that if somehow, Stephen was able to see these messages, he would know. "Please know, when I drift off, it'll be like every night lately. I'm fine...totally fine. I dream about you. God it's always you." Tony says with a broken whisper.

He was hungry, dehydrated, and lost in space with a robotic woman and for once he looked forward to sleep. Dreams of Stephen and their family was his only salvation in this terrible situation he found himself in. He was already hallucinating blue butterflies, and he tried to touch one the first time he saw it, but it had disappeared as soon as his fingers went through the illusion. Tony just ignored them after that. He never asked Nebula if she saw them, because he knew the answer would be a 'no', and she would watch him like a hawk.

With a sigh, he shuts off the recording mechanism in his helmet and pulls on a jacket before laying down. This would quite possibly be the last time his eyes would be open, but at least when he went, it would be to pleasant dreams. Dreams, and the part of him that believed that the blue butterfly settling on the arm he was laying on, was Stephen watching over him.

________________________

Carol had miraculously come across them and took them back to Earth, and once an IV was shoved into him, the remaining Avengers held a meeting. Tony really just wanted to keep to his promise and looks for his other two kids, but he also needed to know who else they had lost. Picture after picture popped up on the multiple screens in the meeting room at the compound, and Tony had to hold himself together when Stephen and Peter's picture came up. He almost lost it when Harley's appeared as well, but then the pictures stopped and the screens vanished.

He never saw Diana and that made him jump to his feet and almost fall over from how weak he was. Pepper had to step forward and steady him as he points a shaky finger as the previous location of the screens.

"D-Diana?" He mentally curses when he stumbles over the single word. "Where...is she...is she alive?"

Steve steps over to his other side to help keep him steady, and offers him a small smile. "She's alive. Out of all of the kids, she and Cassie are still here."

Tony nearly sobs with relief. "Clint and Scott?"

Natasha frowns. "Neither of them are responding to any of our calls. We have to assume they were victims too."

"I want to see my daughter." The engineer whispers, and Pepper gently rubs his back.

"You will, but you need rest."

"I'll rest when I..." Tony blinks away the black spots forming in his vision and the room begins to spin. "When I--"

Then he collapsed. The little bit of effort he had put into talking and standing was too much for his body, and it forced him to rest. He slept for two days without waking, but he woke up on third day and Rhodey all but forced him to eat. In any or he scenario he would have fought, but Diana was alive and all he cared about was seeing her. Tony caved when his best friend promised he could see her as soon as he ate, and he did. He ate as much as he could stomach and Rhodey kept to his promise by having Natasha bring Diana to him. Big blue eyes brightened when his six-month-old daughter saw him and she squealed happily as she reached out for him.

"Dada!"

That one simple word was what broke Tony when he finally got to hold his baby girl. She was all he had left if his family. His husband was gone, his two sons were gone, and half of his friends were gone too. He was broken and tired and wanted to get away from it all. All of the memories.

So as soon as he was able again, Tony took Diana and Cassie with him to a lake house he bought. Cassie's mother and stepfather were out of reach since they had been traveling over seas when the snap happened, so they didn't know if they were even alive. Scott was MIA as well, but Tony promised to take care of her. She was surprisingly happy that the engineer told her to get her things and she did without a fuss.

Tony watched Diana and Cassie grow up over the next five years. As Cassie got older, she helped with Diana and eventually took a liking to cooking and baking that she was starting to throw Tony out of his own kitchen. Like now.

"You're kicking me out of my own kitchen?! You have a lot of nerve Miss Sass." Tony moves away from the island counter and accidently knocks a glass cup off of it and watches it fall and shatter on the ground. "Shit."

Cassie giggles. "That is exactly why. How did you manage to feed us before I took over?"

Tony picks up the broken glass with a towel and dumps it all in the trash bin. "I'll have you know I made dinner plenty of times. I make a mean sauce. Even Peter drank--"

He immediately clams up at the mention of his youngest son. Tony locked those memories away tears ago, but every once in a while, one would slip through. What were once pleasant dreams when he was dying in space, now haunted him in the safety of his home. In his dreams and just looking at Diana. She reminded him of Stephen every day and it was hard to ignore. She even inherited the man's cheeky mouth.

Cassie learned how to read him over the five years they lived at the lake house, and she could tell that talk to him about his family wasn't a good idea right now. "Can you see if there are any raspberries left? They would be good in the salad."

Tony scoffs. "If there are any left."

"With the way your alpaca eats them I wouldn't be surprised if they were gone!"

"My alpaca? You and Dia were the ones that wanted a pet!"

"Yeah! Like a cat! But you had to be extra and come home with a freaking alpaca!" Cassie snarks as she points a knife in his direction and Tony holds his hands up.

"He has a name." The engineer says with a smirk.

"Gerald is a terrible name." Cassie throws a walnut at his head, and narrows her eyes when Tony catches it in his mouth. "Check for berries."

"I've adopted a slave-driver."

Cassie sniggers as he walks out the back door and he pats Gerald's head as he passes by the mammal and into the garden. It was Cassie's idea and he had to admit it was nice having fresh vegetables and berries a few feet away, even if he had to beat their pet alpaca to them. The girls wanted a cat, but it only would have reminded him of Tibbs, and even the poor cat had been a victim of the snap. He just wasn't ready for another one. Tibbs was a pretty awesome cat and Tony kind of missed him sometimes.

"Alright Gerald, I hope you left us some raspberries or we'll both be in the dog house." Two more steps and he found a plant full of the berries. "Small miracles." He glances over at the blanket fort a few feet away and smiles. "Princess Diana! Come help me pick berries!"

"I'm coloring Daddy!" Diana shouts from inside her fort and Tony chuckles quietly. She definitely had Stephen's snark, and she even said it in an exasperated tone.

"I guess you don't get Cassie's chocolate chip cookies for dessert!"

A loud groan follows and Tony grins as Diana comes out of her fort and joins her father. "It was important."

"Oh yeah? Well you'll have to finish after dinner."

Diana doesn't argue any further and the two of them pick enough berries to fill a small container that Tony gives the responsibility of holding to his daughter. A couple of raspberries disappear into her mouth and Tony gives her a fond look as he wipes away some of the juice at the corner of her mouth before it stains. Sass aside, he was lucky that Diana was so well behaved. She even stopped asking about her mother and brothers because she didn't like the forlorn look Tony always wore when they were brought up, but he was also pretty sure that Cassie was telling her instead. Tony always kicked himself over that. Diana should be able to ask him without worrying about him getting upset over it, but instead her pseudo-sister was telling her the stories. Sometimes Pepper, Happy, and the other Avengers whenever they had time to stop by.

"Don't fill up Little Miss. You think we have enough?"

Diana nods. "Uh-huh."

"Alright. Let's get these back in to the Alpha Female if we want to have dinner. I can smell it from here." He kisses her on the cheek before standing back up and lifting Diana into his arms, and he stops next to Gerald when the exit the garden. "Give one to our loyal guard alpaca."

The five year old grabs a raspberry from the container in her hands and gives it to Gerald who eats it out of her hand happily and thanks her with a nuzzle. With that done, Tony walks back toward the house until he hears the unmistakable sound of tires crunching over gravel. He and Diana look at each other before Tony makes his way around the house to the driveway, and his eyes widen when Scott all but falls out of the car in his haste to get out. Steve and Natasha followed after him as the ex-criminal approaches the billionaire and Diana pushes Tony's mouth closed.

"Scott?" Tony wonders with surprise.

"Cassie? Is she here? They said she was here." The man rambles, but before Tony could even reply, the front door opened and Cassie stepped out.

"Daddy?"

Scott's head whips around and the fifteen year old girl immediately runs over to him and hugs him tightly. Everyone else watches the small reunion as Scott hold his daughter close, and he eventually moves away to study his grown daughter.

"You're so big!" Scott looks Cassie over for a few more seconds and then sniffs the air. "Is that food? Oh my god, I'm starving."

Both Cassie and Tony laugh. "You have good timing Thumbelina. You guys can stay for dinner and tell us where the hell you've been."

"Good, because according to Nat and the Cap, I literally haven't eaten for five years."

Tony looks over at the other two adults. "Dinner?"

Natasha smiles. "Only if I get the baby."

"You heard her Little Miss. Go to Auntie Nat." The engineer says as he takes the container of berries and Diana happily goes to Natasha before they head inside.

Scott was quiet for the majority of dinner because he was too busy eating, but when he eventually slowed down so he could at least breath and taste his food, he told them where he had been. The Quantum Realm. What felt like an hour to him had been five years, so when he finally escaped, he was confused when he saw all the missing posters and the monuments with the names of the Snap victims. He explained that he went straight to the tower but when he found he empty, he went to the compound where he found Steve and Natasha. He told them the same thing he was telling Tony and they jumped right back into the car and came straight to the lake house when he asked about Cassie.

Steve clears his throat and Tony watches Natasha suspiciously when she mumbles in Russian and herds Diana away from the table after dinner. An adult conversation was coming up and he wasn't sure whether or not he was glad that the assassin took the initiative to distract his daughter. As soon as the two were out of ear shot, Scott opened his mouth again.

"Tony...we think we can reverse what happened. Bring everyone back."

His breath catches in his throat. "What?"

"Like I told you, it only felt like an hour in the Quantum Realm for me when realistically it's been five years. Time works differently there. Maybe if we can manipulate it--"

"You're talking about a time machine." Tony interrupts.

Steve grimaces. "For lack of a better word, yes."

"I can't take that chance." Scott opens his mouth again but Tony cuts him off and points toward the direction Natasha and Diana disappeared to. "She is all I have left. I can't risk that for a chance. Diana is the only reason I'm even still here!" He admits and the other two men wince and Cassie frowns. "I lost my wife, and my two sons. I can't lose her too."

The three stare at each other in silence until Diana and Natasha return, and Tony's heart clenches when he finds a familiar leather book in his daughter's hands.

Peter's photo album.

"Where..." The mechanic starts and Scott sighs.

"I told you I went to the tower. I grabbed that just in case." He says quietly as Diana sets the album on the table in front of Tony.

"Tony...at least look through it." Steve says quietly. "Even if you still don't want to help, you and Diana both deserve those memories."

Cassie places her hand on the album and pushes it closer to Tony. "I think it's a good idea."

Tony sighs. "Even Miss Sass is ganging up on me."

He reluctantly agrees though and they all eat their dessert of cookies before everyone sans Tony retires to bed. He offered for them to stay since it was a long drive back, and they accepted gratefully. Cassie was nice enough to take Diana to bed since she knew the little girl's schedule and Tony had gone into the makeshift lab to look through the photo album. Not until he had FRIDAY working on potential ways to be able to use the Quantum Realm as a time machine though. He highly doubted they would find anything, but he could at least say he tried. Looking through the album was hard but it was necessary if he was going to have to tell Diana the stories behind each picture. His daughter deserved that much if FRIDAY couldn't--

"Test run successful Boss."

Tony's head snaps up to the hologram and he drops the album so he can cover his mouth in disbelief. He did it. He found a way to time travel. Something he never thought possible if he were honest. A Time Stone was one thing, but a machine? Even he had been skeptical.

"Shit."

That one single word about summed everything up.

He could bring his family back.