#my anxiety when up whenever i had to read a name in the wheel of time

[sophie-summer]

Things that scares me: No knowing if I'm pronouncing a character's name the right way.

[technically-human]

Do you write longer fics?! Just the tidbit of Charles in the Hell Train has my brain wheels turning. I can extrapolate and guess how some of their story would go, but you have such thought put into them. I would hate for you to be like "aw man they totally got this part of the au wrong!" if someone else tried their hand at it, and I would love to read more (and more art). You seem to do both really well

I write... Occasionally. I'm a bit insecure about it, especially in English. I would really love it if someone wrote about the reverse verse, even if their interpretation was different from mine! It would be a lot of fun to read that. I doubt I could make it entertaining enough, though.

I did write The Lamps Are Going Out which is an AU with Edwin as an evil spirit!

And I'm currently working on a couple of fics. Hopefully I'll actually finish them at some point. Here's a fragment of a fic I titled Possibly, maybe

The thing was, Charles had rejected people before.

Back when he was thirteen and alive, the neighborhood kids started taunting him about one of the girls. Amanda, who lived a few streets away from him, had apparently told someone that she fancied Charles, and the rumors spread until Charles himself heard about it. He had never given Amanda much thought, they often crossed paths while going to church, and that was Charles in his best behavior and therefore the most boring –and bored– version of himself. They had probably talked a total of ten times, half of them being a simple greeting. Charles didn't like her back, and resolved to ignore the rumors.

That worked for all of two weeks before Amanda decided to do something about it. She probably had been, Charles knew even back then, waiting for him to be the one to do something, as was the proper way. He wouldn't, though, and whether it was because she knew it or simply that she wasn't willing to wait, she ended up asking him out.

It had been uncomfortable, Charles could hear the giggles from two other girls who had accompanied Amanda and were waiting just a few steps behind her. He wanted to say no, really, because so far he had only considered girls in an abstract, distant sort of way, and again, Amanda wouldn't have been his first choice. But something like anxiety pooled in his stomach, wiping his sweaty palms against his trousers had helped none, and in the end Charles had blurted out an answer that he only fully registered as positive when Amanda squealed happily, her friends running to hug her and jump in place.

Always impulsive, Charles figured that it shouldn't matter. Dating didn't seem all that hard and, after all, he only ever saw her on Sundays. Of course, Amanda's plans were very different. Suddenly, she was everywhere Charles was at, and she always wanted to hold hands or talk or walk together. She would get her bicycle and follow him when he wanted to practice tricks on his skateboard –he was shit at it, and she certainly didn't seem impressed, demanding he paid attention to her after half an hour most of the time, even though she owned a walkman and could probably keep herself entertained– or expect him to walk her home despite the fact that he had to then turn around and walk back a couple streets to get to his place, which they had passed a few minutes prior.

The other neighborhood kids, who had initially mocked him for having a girl be into him, continued to laugh and whistle and shout stuff whenever Amanda took his hand or leaned against his shoulder or called him a cheesy pet name.

They only dated for three weeks, and she was Charles' first kiss.

One morning, as Charles was trying to recover from a cricket game the night before –they had won, and his team was closer to another useless trophy that he could use to decorate his room. His body was sore, but it was a kind of pain he usually welcomed– his dad barged into the room, demanding he do something useful instead of wasting all day in bed. Charles got up and followed his father to the garage, where it was decided that “something useful” meant helping him repair the car.

It was fun. His dad wasn't the most patient person, and he would very quickly resort to yelling if something wasn't understood on the first try, but Charles paid as much attention as he could, asked very little questions and only got scolded a couple of times throughout the day. By the end of it, the car was working properly and, although his body was aching even more than before, it was still a far more pleasant pain than the one his father tended to leave him with.

As was the case every time Charles successfully interacted with his father, he craved to make the day last. Sitting on the porch, his father drinking an ale, Charles taking a few disgusting sips whenever Paul offered the can to him, he searched his brain for a topic of conversation –one that wouldn't ruin the day, that wouldn't end with his body hurting in a different, perhaps more familiar, way– and ended up talking about Amanda. In all honesty, he couldn't quite recall what words he had actually used. Nothing unkind, he liked to think. He had not fancied Amanda, but she was a pleasant enough girl, if somewhat galling. Whatever came out of his mouth, it didn't make his dad angry, but instead caused him to laugh loudly and push Charles in a way that was meant to be friendly, but caused him to involuntarily tense every muscle in his body.

“Look at our Charlie,” his dad had said, smile huge, proud, and Charles had stared, stunned. “Breaking hearts already!”

Charles had smiled back, elated, proud of himself, feeling big and important and good, and like he was finally getting the hang of it, like soon enough his dad would run out of reasons to be angry at him, and everything would be smooth sailing from then on.

Breaking the heart in question was decidedly less fun than being praised for it. Amanda cried when Charles told her he didn't fancy her anymore. He hadn't felt proud of himself or big or good at all, and she stopped saying hello even when they crossed paths at church, where Charles was in his best, most apologetic behavior. His father never did ask how the breakup went, almost like he forgot that whole conversation. Charles was very careful to reject people properly, kindly, after that.

Edwin was a different story. There had been no neighborhood kids to warn Charles of his feelings, but in over thirty years of friendship, there were some moments in which he wondered. Sometimes, Edwin would look at him for a little too long, or smile a little too sweetly, or treat him a little too kindly, and Charles would wonder. He would then push the feeling aside, save his suspicion for more important things, and tell himself that, even if it was true –and that “if” was really carrying that whole sentence– it wouldn't be anyone's problem until someone went and opened their mouth about it. Charles promised himself he wouldn't be that someone. There was no joy that could come from breaking anyone's heart, let alone Edwin's.

Still, he couldn't bring himself to resent his friend when he decided to confirm what Charles only occasionally dared to suspect, and whatever bit of attention he ever afforded his dad, whatever bit of love he held for the most important person in the world, whatever bit of care he put into not breaking any more hearts, he poured into his answer, and willed it to be enough to stop himself from even cracking this precious thing that was offered to him, and that he only ever strived to protect.

Even with something like anxiety in his stomach, and with sweaty palms that he didn't even try to dry on his trousers, Charles reeled in that part of him that always wanted to make people happy, and rejected the person he loved the most in the world, unwilling to be impulsive about this.

[tellnxlies]

Tag followers you want to get to know better!

Name: Mae

Star Sign: Sagittarius

Height: 5''3"

Middle name: Nichole

Put your itunes/spotify/youtube on shuffle. What are the first 6 songs that popped up?

I pretty much put all of my music on a playlist for my recent flight, so let's shuffle it and see what we get:

Don't Even - We Are the Tigers musical

I'd Hate To Be You When People Find Out What This Song Is About - Mayday Parade

The Pitiful Children - Be More Chill musical

Oh Well, Oh Well - Mayday Parade

Seven Seas of Rhye - Queen

Piano Man - Billy Joel

Ever had a poem or song written about you: I don't think so, but I have done it for others before

When was the last time you played air guitar: Never in my life

Who is your celebrity crush?: Well damn I can't say that I have one, I don't really. Know celebrities off the top of my head at all. My partner calls me uncultured for a reason lol.

What’s a sound you hate? A sound you love?: Styrofoam makes me want to plug my ears just thinking about it. I don't know what it is about it that bothers me so much, but I will have an actual meltdown over how unpleasant it is to be around.

A sound I love would have to be a tie between piano music (I do play it!) and water of any sort (whether a fountain, the ocean, a river, etc.).

Do you believe in ghosts?: Yep

How about aliens: Undetermined on that one

Do you drive?: I do - and I do not like it. I get so much anxiety behind the wheel. Whenever we go anywhere together, my partner drives. And since they get anxiety being a passenger, it works out well.

If so have you ever crashed:  No, but I've been a passenger in one

What was the last book you read?: I'm currently on The Lightning Thief (Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Book 1), but at any given point in time I have The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, The Silmarillion, etc. on hand. HUGE Tolkien fan.

Do you like the smell of gasoline: I do (sue me)

What was the last movie you saw?: It and It Chapter 2

What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?: Mhm I have a fair few health issues, so it's a bit hard to rate. I had to go to the ER the other day because I had some blood drawn after a doctor's appointment and it wouldn't stop bleeding for 1.5-2 hours (my blood does not clot well). I had a bad shoulder dislocation once when I was a teenager as well (my joints dislocate very easily, I'm honestly still not sure how that one happened).

Do you have any obsessions right now?: I have a few things at the moment. I picked up Lord of the Rings Online again after years of not playing, I am finally getting Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom today (I was on a trip when it came out), I've been checking out the Welcome Home ARG...

Tagged by (stolen from): @pluviacuratio

Tagging: @turnecoat @reiketsui @spidermuses @faetedforglory and whoever else wants to!! Please feel free to steal it from me.

[buckyownsmylife]

daddy issues - chapter xv

The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.

When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

A/N for this chapter: this is 3.2k of unedited drama and I am so fucking proud of it. I wrote this entire thing today, and it’s easily one of the pieces I’m most proud of. So I haven’t been able to fit a proper conversation between the reader and Harlan - I couldn’t make the scene justified if his presence was there, since he does seem to be the one thing that keeps the family on the line - but that means I had some ideas of how I can make up for it in the future! Extra chapter? Perhaps. We are approaching the end though. I only have two more chapter planned for this fic and an epilogue. We’ll see how that goes!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Hey!” I got into the car excited to see him again, but I tried to reason with myself that it was all because of his visit to his grandfather’s publishing company, of course. I wanted to know how that went and I was curious as to what Harlan’s plans were, that was mostly it.

The fact that I had genuinely missed the man by my side after spending just four hours away from him had very little to do with it, or so I tried to tell myself. I didn’t know how to deal with depending so much on someone yet.

But I was trying to.

Ransom’s silence alerted me that something was different. I stopped trying to fix myself to look to the side and find him staring out the window, face expressionless and eyes void of any sentiment.

“Ransom, what’s wrong?” Reaching over, I squeezed his thigh to get his attention, and he jerked as if he was genuinely surprise by my presence in the small vehicle. “You look stressed,” I clarified, eyebrows furrowed in worry as I reached over to push away a strand of hair that had fallen out of place.

He just stared at me for a while and still I couldn’t read what he was thinking. Was he mad at me? Had I done something wrong? After what felt like eternity, he sighed, gripping the steering wheel as he looked on his lap and admitted, “I’m gonna have to go to this family dinner on Friday.”

Immediately, I breathed deeply in relief, suddenly realizing just how worried I actually was that his mood had something to do with me. But then I was reminded of the little that Ransom had told me about this family - even that little felt like too much.

I could only imagine the anxiety he was feeling, and my heart ached to soothe him as best as I could. “Do you want me to go with you?” I asked, running my digits over his nape calmly, keeping my voice as soft as possible to help him relax.

Still, his head snapped up so he could meet my eyes, his wide as two saucers as he struggled to process what I’d said. “… You’d do that?” He sounded so surprised, so genuinely shocked by my offer, that I couldn’t stop myself from giggling, taking both of his hands on mine and squeezing them gently.

“Of course I would, honey.” Ransom’s eyes were so soft as they stared into mine, even as my heart doubled its size in its effort to reach out for his, I found myself justifying, “You went with me to see my parents!”

The way his smile dropped at my explanation had me feeling cold and empty, desperate to see him look at me the same way he was doing only seconds ago.

“Besides,” I forced myself to admit it, trying not to sound as breathless as I felt while I opened my heart to him. “I-I don’t want you to go through that alone. I wanna be there for you, like you were for me.”

Immediately, I felt rewarded on my effort to open up by the smile he gave me. “Thank you, baby.” He squeezed my hand this time, and when he leaned over and connected our lips on a quick peck, my heart skipped a beat.

I was in love with this man.

Ransom’s P.O.V.

I sighed as we stood in front of my grandfather’s front door, trying to adjust my sweater that suddenly felt uncomfortable. Beside me, she seemed to be doing the exact same thing, fingers pulling on the end of the dress she was wearing, making me smile.

The dress highlighted her bump - it was now undeniable that she was pregnant and even if I’d never been particularly attracted to women in this stage of life, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her now.

It was like she shined from within. Her beauty amazed me, and so when she noticed me staring and stopped fiddling with her clothes, straightening herself up to ask, “Do I look okay?” I had to stop myself from laughing.

“Yes.” More than okay. “But are you sure you won’t be cold?” We’d gone through this argument before leaving the house, so I was prepared to see her rolling her eyes as she reached out to take my hand in hers.

“Unless your family has the habit of dining outdoors regardless of the weather, I think we’ll be alright.” I chuckled, rubbing my thumb on the back of her hand, but it sounded nervous even to my own ears. It didn’t surprise me that she noticed it. “Are you ready?” She questioned, voice in that soothing tone she used whenever she noticed my stress.

“Not at all,” I admitted, but in all honesty, the prospect of joining my family for dinner didn’t seem as bad as it usually did. Not with her by my side.

“I’m here for you.” Hearing her say those words meant more to me than I was able to properly express at that moment so I just stared at her, taking in the fact that this incredible person actually cared about me.

“Just… don’t leave me alone, okay?” Her immediate nod had me smiling. It prompted me to once again lean over and connect our lips, only this time, when I tried to pull away, she kept me close with her hand on the back of my neck.

Who knows where this kiss might have led us if the door hadn’t open right at that moment, revealing my lousy uncle who stared from me to her with wide eyes?

“… She’s pregnant? With your baby?” A groan was all I could muster as a response, tugging her into the house with me. “When were you going to tell your family?”

“For fuck’s sake,” I cursed, looking around the living room for the bar. “Where’s the goddamn alcohol?” There was no way I’d be able to survive this night without it, as much as I wanted to be supportive of Y/N.

“I think that’s a bottle of scotch,” I heard her whispering next to me, pointing towards a corner of the room, and I sighed in relief at her understanding.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

An hour into the evening and I had already understood why Ransom was the way that he was - and why he liked his grandfather so much, despite how he felt about the rest of the family.

Harlan was gentle where all of his children were… prickly. In fact, he was the only one who addressed me at all, but I found myself feeling grateful for it, since when the dinner actually started, I wanted the rest of the family to forget about me completely.

“I am so sorry,” Harlan apologized, rubbing his hands nervously as he stared at the rest of the family who was walking towards the dining room. “I sleep early, everyone knows that, but this is the only time they could all gather and since they didn’t know you were coming…”

I waved away his apologies, offering him a hug as I wished him good night. “Just as long as you’ve had your dinner, Harlan. Thanks for welcoming me into your home.”

He accepted my embrace easily, taking advantage of the proximity to whisper in my ear, “Just hang on to him, dear. I promise it’ll be worth it.” I smiled when we parted, nodding in confirmation to his words.

“It already is,” I assured him, but he only sighed.

“Make sure to remember that during dinner…” Now I understood why. It started with a simple question, one of the maids offered me some meat, and when I hesitated to answer…

“God, are you daft, girl? Have you never eaten lamb?” My eyes widened in surprise, but before Ransom could have the chance to throw himself at his mother, I just squeezed his thigh.

“I was going to ask her if there was any oregano in the sauce. It’s been making me feel sick.” I didn’t need to add why - the reminder of my situation, of what led me to be there with them in this dining room was very clear in me.

And still, that didn’t stop them.

“That’s a pretty necklace…” Ransom’s father commented before we could even grab a bite. I chuckled to myself, immediately catching onto what he wasn’t saying.

“Thanks, I got it at a little boutique back home. It was a gift for myself after I got my first paycheck.” I could feel Ransom’s gaze on me, the waves of pride rolling from him in waves. It made me smile, but it was just the calm before the storm.

“Ransom, have you contacted a lawyer?”  This question came from his uncle’s wife, Donna - I think that’s what she was called. Not that she tried to introduce herself to me or anything, but Harlan made sure I knew everyone’s name as soon as I stepped inside the house.

“Why?” Ransom’s tone was vicious and his squinted eyes alerted everyone that he was prepared for a strike, but the fact that he still hadn’t anticipated what was coming almost made me laugh.

Even Donna herself hesitated, unbelieving that he was going to make her say it. “There’s no way you’re that stupid.” And just like that, the doors to hell were opened up.

Ransom’s P.O.V.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but then again, was I really surprised?

“You should make sure to draw a prenup,” Donna insisted, while the rest of the family pretended not to hear, undoubtedly coming up with their own ways to insult Y/N. “Something that will assure only your kid has access to your money.”

I could hear Y/N quietly laughing to herself next to me, but while she was able to find the irony in the situation amusing, all I felt was blinding rage.

“God, do you even hear the shit you say? I never asked for your input, this, right here, is precisely why I didn’t tell any of you all about my baby.” I saw Y/N flinch from the corner of my eyes before I heard my mother’s fork drop against the precious porcelain dish she was pretending to eat from. I knew this was the sorest topic of discussion for her. I knew this was why she had been pretending Y/N wasn’t even there, hadn’t even been invited to dinner with me.

“Fair enough,” she spoke, lying back against her chair as she finally raised her eyes to meet mine. “I don’t know if we even should learn anything about this child, considering it most likely isn’t even yours.”

It was like someone had thrown a bucket of ice over me. Y/N was oddly quiet now, seemingly as frozen as me - and when I realized that, my anger returned with twice its power.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” I warned, just as my mother retorted, “Don’t you talk like that to me.” I didn’t even have the chance to talk back when she stroke again. “You fuck so many ransom desperate chicks, I’m surprised this is the first you knocked up.”

This was as insulting to her as it was to me, and it also struck a chord in me because of how I feared this was just reinforcing Y/N’s views of me. “Don’t say shit like that,” I threatened, to no avail. “Don’t talk about her like that.”

“Ransom…” Her sweet voice tried to intervene, but I was too far gone to hold myself back now. I couldn’t stand the thought that I was hurting her because I was the reason she was here in the first place.

“You know nothing about her, and yet you feel comfortable judging her,” I continued, ignoring her completely. “She’s a lawyer, actually. You would know it if you had even bothered to talk to her. If there was ever the need for a prenup, I’d have her draw it.”

Maybe they thought I’d stop at that - I thought so myself, until I realized there was still so much I wanted to get out, and I was going to do that now.

“And you know what? I trust her more than I trust you, and I came out of you. So maybe you should consider that before you attack the one person I try to introduce to my family.” I hated everything about this. I hated how they still managed to get to me, how the fact that my own mother, who I didn’t even respect, still managed to make me feel inadequate about the one thing in my life that made me excited.

I knew I’d always lose with them. They just had this way of inciting the beast in me - they brought out the worst in me, and I felt helpless to fight it.

“Okay, so she’s not some random skank,” my uncle oh-so-helplessly interrupted, immediately making me want to punch him in his stupid face. “But this just means she’s the one playing you.”

“Oh, shut up!” I threw my hands up, pushing my chair away from the table, fully intended to storm out of the room until Meg was the one who stopped me dead in my tracks.

“Did you even get a paternity test, Ransom?” She seemed almost uncomfortable to voice it, eyes darting from me to Y/N, but I could read her apologetic smile perfectly.

She just didn’t want someone else to get Harlan’s attention and interest because that would potentially mean less money to each and everyone of the people in this room, as he’d add one more person to his aid list.

My father took advantage of what Meg said, waving in her direction. “Don’t you know how important this family is? How quickly she could rise in any job because of a connection to us?”

My mother scoffed, finally ready to interfere again. “Knowing she’s actually smart leaves me even more surprised that you’ve relented and decided to become someone’s little plaything until this baby pops out. I’m assuming a few months with a screaming kid and you’re just gonna abandon her anyway. Which is fine by me, I won’t have to pretend to be a grandmother for long.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

All I could think was how grateful I was that I had accompanied him to this dinner tonight. As I watched his chest heaving with fury, I could not imagine how he would have felt having to deal with all of this on his own.

“Ransom,” I tried to catch his attention, pulling him back to his seat. “Ransom, it’s okay,” I tried to appease him, but he was too fucking gone to care.

“No, it’s not okay, he pushed my hand away, getting up from his chair to lean over the table, both hands on top of it as he stared at his mother.  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He yelled, making me flinch, although Linda hardly seemed bothered by it.

Then, much to my surprise, Ransom straightened up, running a hand through his hair as an emotionless chuckle escaped him. “No, you know what? You’re right. You’re not gonna be a grandmother. I’m gonna be a father, Harlan’s gonna be a great-grandfather, but that’s it. I’m not gonna keep taking your shit anymore, Linda, you know why? Even if this child wasn’t mine, I’d still want her and this kid.”

My heartbeat pumped out of control as he continued, “She’s not just someone who’s carrying my child. I care about her. And if you can’t respect her, than I guess I was right in keeping this pregnancy from you.”

I held my breath as Ransom apparently caught his, my head swirling with the different emotions running through me - my infatuation for this man, who had so fiercely defended me from his entire family, the adrenaline from witnessing such a vicious argument.

I truly believed this would be the end of it. I didn’t know where they could go from here - that was, of course, until Linda decided to attack him.

“Oh, and you think you’re going to be so great with it?” My blood boiled when her words turned against her own son so easily. Attack me and my dignity? That was okay, these people didn’t know me.

But seeing her attack Ransom was just too much for me.

“Do you think she’ll want to keep you around once she realizes she’ll be raising two children with you to weigh her down?” Ransom visibly faltered, like she had slapped him, and that’s when I had enough. “You’ll never be able to give her the emotional support that she needs and you know that.”

I rose to my feet at that, holding onto my lower back as I softly slapped Ransom’s back in an attempt to calm him down. “I got this, babe.” He was so surprised - and still so hurt by his mother’s statements - that he didn’t even try to stop me. In fact, I think he didn’t even realize what was going on until I turned to Linda and started talking.

“Do you really think that poorly of your son that you can’t believe he has anything to offer in a relationship?” Now she was the one who looked up at me with an expression that looked like I had physically hurt her.

“Is it that unbelievable to you, that someone would be able to like him for him?” She didn’t seem to be able to find anything to answer to me, and when I turned to Richard, I was also met with silence.

Ransom’s P.O.V.

“Well, I do,” she announced, like it was the single most obvious thing, the simplest fact to deduce in the world, while I stood back watching her with my mouth hanging open. “I like him enough to be willing to open up to him even if one day he might leave me because to me, he is worth any possibility of future pain.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I’d never had anyone defend me like this, not even Harlan - not even my parents, when I was a kid and the bigger children decided to bully me.

No, back then all I got was a talk about how “real men don’t cry” and if my father ever caught me cowering from someone else again he’d give me a real reason to be afraid.

“And I do say possibility,” she continued, not having raised her voice for even a second and still to effortlessly able to catch the attention of everyone in the room, assure herself the ground to speak her mind without the fear of interruptions. “Because Ransom’s actions have never given me any reason to think that outcome is even remotely probable.”

“So maybe you think about your own opinions of your son’s character and see if they don’t reflect your own more than they reflect his actions.” She turned around after that, tiny hand encircling my wrist as she began to yank me in the direction of the front door.

“Let’s go.”

[dazai-fics]

Stargazing – Dazai Osamu

Pairing: Dazai x Reader (high school au)

Word Count: 2.6k*

Warnings: slight cursing, smut/nsfw- oral, fingering

Summary: Having Osamu Dazai as your boyfriend has never been boring.

A/n: This has been stuck in my head for a while and I finally was able to sit down and write it out so I hope you guys enjoy and don’t judge me too much because this is my first time writing out smut !

Inspired by: Stargazing*- The NBHD

You could feel the cool of the evening seep into your bones as you groggily sat up in your plush bed. Once, then twice, did you blink to remove any bit of remaining sleep as you looked over to the source of your annoyance.

Your phone lit up with a string of messages from only one contact; a contact that as of late had made your heart pound in a way that was indescribable in every sense of the word. Sighing, you picked up the phone and began to read over the messages your extremely clingy boyfriend woke you up with.

‘Samu ♡:

1:04 AM

hey baby i can’t sleep u up?

1:04

Belladonna ? :(

1:05

I’m coming over, have a surprise for us :)

He’s what?

You were now fully awake at this point and groaned at the spontaneity and impulsiveness of your brunette lover. Knowing you had no choice but to go along with his antics, you got out of your bed and quickly ran to your closet hoping the faster you went, the quicker the chills would go away as they flared your arms and legs up with goosebumps.

You were already wearing sweatpants, so you decided to just throw on a black hoodie that was suspiciously too big on your figure.

You inhaled deeply as the smell of vanilla and mint overcame your senses causing a serene smile to overcome your features. Yes, this was indeed the sweatshirt of the Osamu Dazai; a man that in the last couple of months has invaded your every waking thought and had claim over any flush in your cheeks, dimple in your smile, and crinkle in your eyes as they closed shut-tight over the unbearable laughter released at one of his cheesy jokes.

Of course that didn’t mean everything was all raised heart beats and shared smiles with the boy as dating Dazai also meant caring for him and all his dark thoughts and emotions. As well as vise versa since your life by no means was easy and perfect. However, no matter how bad things got; or who left or entered your life, you could always count on Dazai, and him you, to be there whenever life caught you both in it’s gloomy and seemingly inescapable hold.

Another smile escaped your lips and you once again inhaled the calming scent; now thinking back to how you met the lanky, mysterious, goofball.

You had moved to your new town back in your freshman year of high school which of course meant having to make new friends and basically start a whole new life in a time that was so important and vital.

You remember your first day at ADA highschool so vividly; the sweat that built in your palms, and the barely visible motion of your toes curling into your shoes from anxiety. You had thought making friends would be impossible no matter how many times your parents assured you that your “charming” personality would help you make friends so very easily.

It was the end of the day and you were sure that your still very much lack of friends would mean that would be the truth for the rest of your four years in this high school you were very much forced to attend. You felt a tear quickly escape your eye as the anxiety started to take physical form; quickly you ran to a quiet corner and began to wipe furiously and harshly at your eyes as you reprimanded your sensitivity.

“What am I five? Why am I crying so hard?”

You jumped suddenly as you heard quiet giggles next to your ear.

You felt embarrassment flood your body as you wiped even harder to stop the tears. He was a bit blurry, but you could faintly make out the long, curly, brunette hair; dark chocolate eyes, and white bandages that wrapped around his long, lanky, figure. He also wore casual clothes which consisted of jeans, a hoodie, and sneakers.

Your first thought, of course besides the initial embarrassment and anger, was why he was wrapped in those seemingly endless rolls of bandages.

“Who is this weird banaged guy?” You scoffed to yourself as your sniffles came to an end.

“Done crying?” He asked teasingly, that stupid smug smile still on his face.

“I don’t remember asking for your help or comfort,” you said defensively, the venom not really reaching your still red and glossy face.

The boy laughed again good-naturedly; not intentionally trying to rile you up but he couldn’t help but think your anxiety was misplaced.

“Well then, why don’t you come walk home with my friend Atsushi and I, could be fun~,” he offered, his hand held out to you in an act of trying to make you feel comforted.

Your eyes widened as you hesitantly accepted his offer; the boy rushing you along as soon as your hands made contact, going into a rant over another boy named Kunikida mothering the absolute shit out of him.

Four years had gone by and you were both in your senior year;  nothing really changing between you except the now official titles of ‘boyfriend’ and ‘partner’ which you had longed for since as long as you could remember.

Since that fateful day, you had become a part of the best group of friends you could ask for consisting of Atsushi, Kunikida, Yosano, Kenji, Ranpo, kyouka, and of course Dazai.

However, you knew you wanted something more with Dazai since freshman year and although you two were… close, he never seemed interested in more. He seemingly always had a new girl on his arm bragging about the various amounts of… sexual interactions he would have with them and each time it broke your heart a little more.

Despite all that, he would hold you whenever you were down, wiped your tears whenever they fell, and held you close when you couldn’t sleep; pressing gentle kisses when he thought you were knocked out by exhaustion finally hitting you.

Dazai had intimacy issues and fears you knew were holding him back from officially committing to you which is why you never pressed anything and kept your feelings locked up nice and tight… until a couple of months ago when it all came to a head.

Harsh words; honest words were shared by you both in an argument you thought would rip the person you had come to love and rely on most from you forever. Luckily it did the exact opposite as Dazai decided he was done with denying himself from your pure and warm love that made his dark world just a bit brighter everyday.

And now you two were inseparable; lips never too far from each other, limbs entangled whenever chance allowed. Your other friends were definitely sick of it but you both didn’t care as you denied each other from this comfort for too long to let any time go to waste.

You were snapped out of your reverie by gentle tapping at your window. You quickly turned your head to see the man of your thoughts sitting patiently on the ledge, a goofy smile etched into his pretty, pink lips.

You scoffed playfully as you made your way across the room to open the window for him. Immediately, he placed his lips on yours in a passionate kiss as his hands came up to cup your face lovingly.

“Mmm missed you so much,” he mumbled against your lips causing you to giggle.

“We saw each other, like, six hours ago!” You exclaimed slapping him playfully, causing him to release a laugh himself.

“Exactly! Now c’mon I’m taking you somewhere,” Dazai commanded you gently, grabbing your hand as he guided you out the window.

“‘Samu it’s one in the morning, where are we going?” You groaned in annoyance wanting your boyfriend to join you in bed and cuddle you back to sleep.

“Nuh uh uh~ It’s a surprise!” He exclaimed playfully booping you on the nose as you both made your way to his black range rover.

“Alright, whatever, can I at least get a hint?”

“Hmm, okay, okay, fine,” Dazai relented as he began to type away on his phone playing a song from his spotify that came out on his connected bluetooth, touch screen.

Take it from the top, if I start I just can’t stop…

You giggled silently as you shook your head, your boyfriend rolling down both of your windows and turning up the music for what he likes to call ‘the full midnight drive experience.’

“So are we going stargazing?!” You yelled over the wind and music.

“Yep!” He yelled back cheerily taking one hand off of the wheel to rub at your thigh comfortingly.

“Pull it out of park put in drive, I can feel your heart beating with mine, underneath the stars, lookin' for a sign glowin' in the dark 'til the sun shines, made it pretty far on the first try, might've set the bar a little too high, started with a spark, now we're on fire-”

You both yelled together which winded up with you both laughing uncontrollably. Dazai continued to sing along with the neighborhood as you took this as a chance to examine how gorgeous this man truly was.

His silky, curly brunette hair went everywhere as the wind entangled with it, his dark chocolate eyes shined with the headlights from the cars going on the opposite side of the freeway, his bandaged hands gripped at the wheel allowing you to see every vein and bone from his knuckles, and his face was flushed pink from the yelling and wind.

You laughed freely as you once again joined in with his singing; utter and complete joy filling you both which was rare.

Eventually, you both reached a secluded park with a hill; perfect for sitting and stargazing. Once you both got out, Dazai layed out a towel for you both to cuddle on without getting soaked from the freshly sprayed grass.

You both giggled loudly like the teenagers in love you were as you made yourself comfortable on your boyfriend’s chest; his lanky arms coming to wrap themselves around you, one occasionally letting go to point out the constellations or meteors blinking past in the inky sky.

You had to hold in your snickers whenever he would wrongly name a constellation but nonetheless; you would place a soft kiss on his cheek and thank him for teaching them to you.

Soon, the soft kisses on the cheek would turn to passionate kisses on the lips as Dazai changed his position to where he was on top of you. He began to leave a trail of kisses down your jaw to your neck; the juxtaposition of his warm kisses to the cold air surrounding you both caused small whimpers of pleasure to leave your lips.

“‘Samu…” you called breathily causing your boyfriend to look up from the dark hickeys he was ever-so-carefully placing on your collarbone.

“What is it, my belladonna?” He asked teasingly, returning to his methodically placed kisses.

“More…” you whined as arousal began to pool in your gut.

“As you wish.”

Dazai kissed lower down your belly to the elastic band of your panties. After leaving a couple small kisses on your hip bone, he looked up into your eyes for confirmation it was okay to go further. You nodded urgently and placed your hand in his soft locks as if to urge him on.  He let out a chuckle at your eagerness but complied nonetheless; you were his princess and whatever you asked of him he would do, even at the cost of his own wellbeing.

After pulling down your sweatpants and panties, he immediately attached his tongue to your clit; moving it in small circles he knew would make you fall apart. Your whines and whimpers fuled him on as your fingers harshly pulled on his locks.

“‘Samu… want your fingers” You ordered in between moans.

“Where baby, tell me,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on your clit.

“inside…please!”

“As you wish.”

Dazai slowly placed his ring and middle fingers into your tight cunt, “Fuck belladonna, so wet for me,” he all but moaned as he gently moved his fingers around trying to find the spot that would have you fall apart all over him.

“‘Samu there! Please!” You gasped as he found your G-spot; not letting up until your back arched and you cummed all over his fingers.

“Good girl; my good, pretty girl that’s it,” he whispered gently as he coaxed you down from your high.

He licked away all the wetness from his fingers as he came back up to meet your lips in a passionate kiss filled with lust and love.

“‘Samu, want more..” you begged softly against his lips.

“Mmm what could you possibly mean~” your boyfriend teased causing you to groan.

“Oh like you don’t want the same thing I can see your hard-on from here,” you teased back looking down to see he was indeed impossibly hard in well fitted grey sweatpants.

“Ha-ha touché, belladonna.”

You both shared a loving laugh as you once again met in a kiss, your hand cupping the back of his head to bring him even closer. Dazai separated for a second to take off his pants and underwear letting his painfully hard cock hit against his abdomen, Dazai letting out a hiss from the cold hair hitting it.

“Need you baby, please,” you whined as your boyfriend soothed you with a kiss to the neck as he began to line his dick up with your wet pussy.

“Almost in, tell me if it ‘urts,” he mumbled as he began to fill you up.

You gasped, never truly used to his size but feeling complete nevertheless.

“Okay?” He asked gently and you nodded kissing his cheek giving him the silent permission to keep going.

“Feels so good ‘Samu!” You moaned as he picked up speed.

“Fuck you’re so tight baby, always so good and tight for me,” your boyfriend praised as he kept up a gentle pace trying to bring you both to your respective highs.

“Gonna cum ‘Samu,'' you whimpered as you felt the coil in your abdomen beginning to snap.

“Go on belladonna, cum for me,” he praised as you did just that; the fast tightening of your warm cunt milking Dazai’s cock as he began to cum with you.

Dazai collapsed on top of you, burying his head in your warm neck and you wrapped your smaller arms around his waist.

“Love you so much ‘Samu,'' you whispered as you felt soft kisses being placed on the dark hickeys your boyfriend left prior.

“Love you more, belladonna; thank you for always being by my side,” he whispered back.

After indulging in each other’s warmth and comfort for a while longer, Dazai cleaned you both up with the towel and dressed you both as he then gently picked you up and placed you in the back seat to lay down as you had fallen asleep.

He took a warm blanket he always kept for you in the trunk and tucked and buckled you in as he took his place in the driver’s seat and drove you both back to your house.

Once you both arrived he took you in arms and walked you both up to the front door where he used the key you gave him to let you in.  As quietly as possible, he then took you both upstairs to your room where he tucked you in again and then got comfortable in the bed next to you; gathering you in his arms and then pressing a kiss to your head.

“Good night, my love sleep well.”

[kining-the-evil]

Coming out

Ransom Drysdale x daughter!reader lesbian!reader

Summary: Jacob finds out your gay, and decides to spill it to the whole family at dinner.

Warning ⚠️: Please be aware that this contains forced coming out, and the use of the F slur. I monetize it, and blurb the word so it’s not technically there but it’s obvious what the word was. IF THIS TRIGGERS YOU PLEASE DONT READ!!!

———————————————————————

"How about we go to an early diner, then the 5 o'clock showing?" Lily offered. I was laying on my bed while on the phone.

"That should work, you know I'm always free."

"Will your dad know where you are?" She asked making me role my eyes.

"I'll tell him I'm meeting some friends." My dad was hardly ever home with me anyways.

"You know at some point you will have to tell him right?" She asked making me sigh. I could not for the life of me figure out how he would react if I came out to him. He was an asshole, and certain parts of the family definitely would not support, but at the same time we hardly ever stuck around for the political argument.

"I will, but I've told you about my family. I just want to wait until I have a backup plan. We graduate in a year anyways. Then I'll take you far far away and treat you like a queen." I explained, thinking about what our life could be after high school.

"You already treat me like one." She chuckled. "And you know I will support you with whenever you decide to."

"I'm gonna go let my dad know I'm leaving then I'll be over to pick you up. Sound good?" She hummed in agreement and we both said goodbye before hanging up. I pulled some shoes on, and made sure I looked presentable before heading downstairs. I could hear my dad moving around in the kitchen as I pulled in a light sweater.

"Dad, I'm hanging out with some friends tonight." I called out walking towards the door.

"No your not!" He called back making me freeze. I turned around to see him standing in the doorway, leaning against it.

"Why?"

"Family dinner tonight." He explained making me role my eyes.

"Do I really have to go? The only people I talk to are you and great grandpa, and I see you both all the time."

"Don't be dramatic. I'm sure you talk to the rest of them." He said rolling his eyes.

"Oh really? Grandma and grandpa barely tolerate me, Donna, Walt, and Jacob hate me, Joni does that weird mix of trying to be a mother figure and guilt tripping me, and Meg hates me for the simple fact of being your daughter. The only other person who's sort of ok is Marta, but she doesn't work tonight." I counted each person on my fingers as I spoke making him chuckle and shake his head.

"You know there will be a fight and we will leave early, and nothing is happening tomorrow. Just go out with your friends after diner." He explained, waving his hand as though say that's the end of it.

I sighed but pulled my phone out send a text to Lily letting her know what happened. She agreed to meet me latter tonight, saying that there is a latter showing of the movie we want to see.

———————

"The favorite great grandchild is here!" I called out as we walked into the house. I could hear a few groans from the other room, and as I pulled my jacket off some walked over to greet us.

"Nice to see you Ransom." My great grandfather said greeting my dad. "And hello dear!" He said walking over to me, giving me a side hug. "We gonna play a game of Go later?"

"Only if you want to be beat old man."

"Oh! We will see about that!" He said chuckling as we made our way towards the main room. I could hear people arguing, so my dad must be in there already.

No one paid me any attention as I sat down next to my dad. Meg was practically screaming at my dad while he just sat there smirking.

"Meg, please sit down, Ransom, do you really need to start this already?" My grandmother finally said, trying to calm everyone.

"I didn't do anything! Just sat down." My dad claimed throwing his arms up. I chuckled at all the commotion, knowing damn well that my dad had said something to piss Meg off.

"What are you laughing at f&$#*" I felt everyone in the room freeze when they heard that. I turned my head slowly to the side to see Jacob looking up at me.

"W-what?" I whispered, still in shock of what happened.

"You heard exactly what is said. I asked what you were laughing at f&$#*" He stated.

"Jacob what the hell?!" Meg asked, all her anger from a moment pointed at him now.

"What?! It's true, I saw her kissing some girl at the park the other day."

"Come on." My dad mumbled grabbing me by the arm and pulling me to my feet.

"Ransom just wait a moment, give Jacob a chance to explain himself. I'm sure-"

"Walt, if I 'give him a mom to explain himself' I will end up punching a child." He snapped turning to look at Walt.

"I mean, give him the benefit of the doubt. She shouldn't hide stuff like that, and F&$-"

"If you say, that GOD DAMN WORD ABOUT MY DAUGHTER AGAIN YOU WILL REGRET IT!" He yelled stepping closer to Walt. "And wether she's gay or not, it's non of your fucking business. She's 17, almost an adult, and can make her own decisions. Also, if she likes girls, I get it. I like pussy to. Now we are gonna leave, and if I find out you, your wife, or your son try to contact her, you will be sorry." He took a step away from Walt so he could look at the rest of them. "If any of you contact her before she's ready, you will be sorry."

Once he was done he stormed off towards the door and I followed behind. He only stoped to let me put my jacket on, and as I did my great grandfather squeezed my shoulder a bit. "Have a good night dear." He whispered before going back to the rest of the family.

The car ride home was silent, and I had chosen to sit in the back so I wouldn't have to look my dad in the face. His hands were tightly gripping the steering wheel, and he was driving significantly over the speed limit. Once him he didn't say a word to me or wait for me before heading inside. I stayed in the car for a moment, laying my head on the seat in front of me. Why, out of everyone did it have to be Jacob who saw me with Lily?

After almost 10 minutes I made my way into the house. Sad was sitting on the couch, and I tried to sneak past him but he heard me anyways. "Y/n, come here please." He said the moment my foot touched one of the stairs.

Silently I made my way over to the couch, and sat down. Nether of us spoke for a few moments.

"Was Jacob telling the truth?" He asked finally looking over at me. I felt like I was going to die right then and there, I didn't want to tell him, but I couldn't lie at this point ether.

"Ya, he was." I whispered.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Yep,"

"That's who you've been hanging out with?"

"Ya."

"How long have you known?"

"I don't know." I sighed, getting a bit irritated. “Some time in middle school maybe.” He was silent for a few minutes, witch just caused my anxiety to worsen.

“You know I cried when I first held you.” I looked over at him surprised, I had never seen him cry. “I was 16 and Terrified, your mother planed to move away within days after you were born. I was so scared I wouldn’t be a good dad, that I would fuck you up. But t he moment I held you in my arms I knew i loved more then every member of our fucked up family combined.” He pauses for a second, reaching up to wipe away the tear that had somehow escaped.

“I’m sorry that Jacob did that. I plan to try and talk with Walt and Donna, he had no right to act like that.”

“Don’t, you know it will only lead to more drama.” I said. “So your not mad I didn’t tell you?”

“Of course not, that was your choice on when that was supposed to come out.” He explained, wrapping an arm around me. “Now, was that friend you were going to hang out with the girl?”

I smiled a bit, glad to know he really didn’t seem to care. “Ya, we were gonna see a movie.”

“Your welcome to go now, I’m sure being with her is a bit more relaxing then being with me.” He smiled a bit before standing up. My dad was almost never soft like that, and decided to do my best to remember that smile.

“Thank you so much.” I said, a real smile on my face.

“You’ll have to bring her around some time. Don’t think she won’t still get the talk like with any boys you would have brought home. What’s her name anyways?”

“Lily.” I said pulling my phone out to send her a quick message.

“Wait your friend lily? The one that you stay over at her house all the time?”

“I’ve got to go dad, I’ll let you know when I’m home.” I said running out the door. I could here him telling for me but I just chuckled as I drove away. I guess I won’t be having anymore ‘sleep overs’ with Lily.

[mercurysstars]

All That Glitters Is Not Gold (part 7)

Summary: Y/n gets hired to be the avengers chief physician and also happens to be an ex assassin.

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Needles, swear words, reader getting angry.

A/N: Okay y’all so maybe the reader has slight anger issues.

𝘍𝘪𝘹 𝘮𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨.

_

Y/n suddenly became aware of the very persistent beeping noise in her ear. No matter what she tried she couldn't get it to stop and it was starting to annoy the hell out of her. She cracked her eyes open, the light-flooded her blinding her for a few seconds but her eyes quickly adjusted.

The first thing she noticed was the white plain walls of the Med-Bay. The memories flickered through her head like a flashing light. Y/n looked down to her bandage arm she peeled it back a bit, by looking at her wound she guessed she might have been out a little over a day and a half.

She grabbed the cords attached to her body and yanked them out causing the heart monitor to start flatlining. Wanda shot right up out of a dead sleep at the sound, looking over to make sure her friend was okay. Y/n didn't even know she was there until she spoke up "Oh good you're alive."

Y/n grimaced "Very much so. How long have I been out?"

"A little over a day," Wanda said confirming what she thought. "After FRIDAY alerted us, Barnes got there first to see you all bruised and bloody."

Y/n could tell Wanda was trying to keep the conversation light which she appreciated. She rolled her eyes and chuckled "You should see the other guy."

"Oh trust me I did." Wanda grinned. "I should probably go get bruce though so I'll be right back."

Wanda left her room. Bruce came in and checked her vitals and drew some blood just to make sure there wasn't anything toxic left in her blood. He said that they couldn't use the cradle because it could harm her further so there would be a scar. But Y/n didn't mind much a little bit of meditation and it would be long gone.

Wanda gave Y/n her phone but had to go because Vision needed some help. Y/n was checking some emails and she heard a little sniffle. She looked up to see a red-eyed Peter peaking into her room. She set down her phone and motioned him over. "Hey, Peter what's wrong?"

Peter seemed a little unsure of himself hesitating to speak. He once again sniffles wiping his face with his shirt. In a little voice, he mumbled, "I was scared you were going to die."

Y/n's heart broke into a million little pieces. She didn't know what to say to him. She wanted to comfort him but she didn't know-how. Y/n did the only thing she knew how. Made a joke out of it. "Oh, Pete you know some half-ass assassin can't get the best of me."

Peter chuckled also while hiccuping. He looked down then back at her. He rushed toward Y/n wrapping his arms around her. Y/n slowly wrapped her arm around him the stayed like that for a few seconds. She rubbed his back and patted it. "Can't breathe. Super strength." She choked out.

Peter pulled back standing next to her bed and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly "I forgot sorry."

"Don't worry about it. And hey get some sleep I'm the one in the Med-bay and you look worst than me."

Peter promised he would. He gave her a get-well card that he bought with his aunt May. He turned to leave. Bucky was standing in the doorway. Peter told him he could go in and left.

Bucky walked into the room. Y/n's face lit up when she noticed him standing there. "Well look who it is. My savior."

Bucky gave a small chuckle. He looked her over. He can't get the image of her lying limp in his arms out of his head. He doesn't think he's ever been that scared or panicked in his life. It became blurry to him after she passed out. He vaguely remembers carrying her the few feet to the med bay and Bruce ordering someone to get him out. Funny how someone can change your life within a few months of knowing them.

"How are you doing." He breathed out turning serious. He sat in the chair next to her bed setting her clothes on the tabled next to them. He couldn't explain it he felt like it was her fault she was in here. Even if he hasn't done it personally.

"Good, I'm good. How's Alpine? I know she has separation anxiety."

"Well, last night she somehow got into my room again. And right now I think she's with Wanda. I'm pretty sure she sneaks her extra treats."

Y/n and Bucky continued to talk. She genuinely enjoyed his company. There was a feeling that she didn't want to name that started to open up whenever he came around. They decided to watch a movie. Y/n was sitting crisscross applesauce and Bucky had his feet kicked up onto her bed while laying back in the chair.

"You actually liked this movie," Bucky exclaimed. Y/n got to pick the movie and she picked newsies. She thought it was the right thing to choose considering it's about young boys in New York. Though it was a little before his time it was basic Bucky and Steve.

"Yes, it was my favorite movie of my teen years. Believe it or not, I thought their New Yorker accents were really hot."

Bucky laughed. He couldn't believe what he was hearing "No way. They are so bad. They aren't even accurate."

"Hey don't judge. I can't help what my teenage hormones find attractive." She jokingly kicked his feet and he put his arms up defensively.

"I'm not, I'm not. It's just that I don't see you like that type of girl. Back in my day, they use to associate accents with thugs or gangs."

"It's the 21st-century hun. Times are different." She put her non-injured hand on her hip.

Bucky raised his eyebrows and smirked "So I'm seeing."

The buzzing of Y/n phone interrupted their conversation. The caller ID read Anthony Y/n put up a finger to signal to give her a moment. She clicked the accept button and a nervous sounding Tony picked up "Hey Y/n how are you? I heard what happened."

Y/n? He never uses her real. That only means one thing. He did something that could potentially piss her off. She was out for one day and this is what happens. "What did you do Tony."

"Okay look so don't be mad when I tell you. Meet me in the debriefing room in 10." He hung up before she got the chance to object.

Y/n slide to the edge of the bed. She swung her feet over. She attempted to stand up but when she put pressure on her foot she nearly collapsed. Y/n didn't remember hitting her foot or anything but it must have been when she dove over her desk. Bucky put his hands on her waist to steady her. "Woah you okay there doll?"

"Yeah. Can you like?" She made a turning motion with her hand. Bucky immediately stood up and turned around.

Y/n took off her hospital gown. Buck caught a glance of 2 long scars crossing her stomach and what looked like to be a burn on her hip through the reflection of the window. He quickly turned away out of respect. Y/n slide on her pants and cleared her throat. "I'm done."

Bucky turns around and sees her supporting most of her weight on her right foot. "Do you want me to get you crutches or a wheelchair?"

"Why would I do that when I have a perfectly good super soldier right here?"

She hobbled over to Bucky and wrapped her good arm around his waist. He rolled his eyes at her being difficult but put his arm around her. He wouldn't admit it but he secretly liked it and thought it was sweet.

They got down to the debriefing room. Tony was pacing around the front muttering something to himself. Y/n and Bucky took up the last two seats. Y/n's foot was throbbing so she put it on the table to elevate it. They waited a couple of minutes for him to start. Natasha finally decided to speak up getting annoyed "You want to tell us what this was about before you burn a hole in the carpet."

Tony stopped to look at them and started to pace again "Okay so I didn't tell you guys everything. That meeting I had was with the UN. They are trying to get General Ross to be ahead of the Avengers instead of Nick Fury."

He paused to let them take it in. Some were confused, and a couple were mad. "Wait are they just trying to do this since we didn't sign the Sakovia accords?" Steve said what most were thinking.

"See that's what I said but they were talking about some bullshit about us being unorganized and dangerous. And the only way they'd stop it is if someone took a truth serum and I said Y/n would."

Oh, this is why he told her not to get mad. She had to take a deep breath so she wouldn't pull off her shoe and beat him with it. Is he stupid? He's a genius but he can't think before he speaks. "So how does it work?" Clint asked.

"Well, they will hook you up to a lie detector machine and inject you with the truth serum. The way it works is that every time you lie the serum will start to burn and your heart rate will start to accelerate."

"So what all do I have to lie about." Y/n finally questioned. She was chewing her lip in contemplation. She's pulled off worst than this and has had more on the line than this.

"What I know for sure is that I said you've been with us for 2 years, you can't tell them how you got that cut and anything that can potentially get us into trouble. Also, you can't take any strong pain meds."

"So basically she has to have one hell of a poker face," Bucky concluded.

Y/n sighs and rubs her head."How long do I have."

"12 hours until wheels up." Tony better buy me so many boxes of pizza she thinks.

_

Bucky watched as Y/n sat on the floor crisscross applesauce. Her back is the door and the only light in the room is the light from the hallway in the quinjet. Y/n could hear the soft buzz of Bucky's metal arm with her eyes still close she says "You know you can come in Sarge."

That startles Bucky. He walked into the room and sat on the floor taking up space next to her. He looked at her "I came to tell you we are almost there. Are you nervous?"

Y/n thought for a few seconds. Most people in her position would probably be pissing their pants at this moment. Having to go in front of the United Nations and lie straight to their faces. So she answered truthfully "No, no I'm not."

Bucky was surprised. She was genuine in her answer. If it was him he would be having a near stroke. "Really? Anyway so why do meditate it doesn't actually help with anything."

"Actually it does. It helps with my heart rate and it helps me heal faster."

"Oh?" He looked at her expectingly obviously not believing her.

She kicked out her leg and lifted the pant leg to her suit. The bruise was gone and she rotated her foot and wiggle her toes to prove she wasn't in any pain.

Y/n grabbed his shoulder as a crutch to help her get up and grabbed her heels. Bucky looked up at her. "You know I can't seem to figure you out."

Y/n paused and pursed her lips in thought "Somethings are better off left as mysteries." She patted his shoulder and walked out.

_

Wanda, Natasha, and Y/n broke off from the rest of the Avengers, having to go to the medical room so she could get a mini medical exam.

The girls walk through security. Natasha dropped all of her weapons in a bin so she could pick them up later. They put a device around Wanda's neck so she couldn't use her powers. Y/n could see how uncomfortable it made her. She walked over to Wanda and whispered "I feel bad you have to wear that. You didn't have to come."

Wanda looked at her and have a small sad smile "What you're about to do is worst than this. It's the least I can do for you helping us."

Y/n nodded to her. Security officers escorted them to the medical room. They had Y/n sit on a bed. They made her pee in a cup, took her blood, and checked her medical history. Natasha was giving her advice. While she knew most things it was still nice having someone coach her through and remind her of it.

When they finished Wanda went to join the rest of the Avengers. Natasha walked her to the door she adjusted Y/n's suit "You've got this. We'll be supporting you in the crowd."

"Thank you Nat for everything really." She hugged her and Natasha gave Y/n's arm a reassuring squeeze.

Y/n took a deep breath. She stepped into the room. The room was a half-circle shape with large windows behind it. In the back were journalists and reporters. And in the front were the UN personnel were located. Y/n walked past the Avengers and took her seat in the middle of the room.

Y/n could feel everyone's eyes on her. She got blinded momentarily from the flashes of the cameras. She looked over to the Avengers. Tony, Bruce, Clint, and Steve at the end. Bucky in the middle. And Sam, Natasha, Wanda, and Vision on the other end. Wanda gave her 2 thumbs up and Y/n smiled back at her.

Staff came over and started to unpack and hook her up to the lie detector machine. They took off the jacket to her suit and connected wires to three fingers on her right hand. They put a blood pressure cuff on her left tricep and inflated it. Ross stood up and cleared his throat being the room's attention on him.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I'm General Ross and I will be doing the questioning on the behalf of the UN."

He turned his gaze to Y/n. "We're going to test the lie detector first."  Y/n nodded to him and he began.

"Is your legal name Y/n Y/l/n?"

"Yes." Y/n states.

"True." The man in the chair next to her says.

He looked down at the paper he had in his hand looking for his next question. "Very well. Were you born Y/B/D 1995?"

"Yes."

"True."

"Are you nervous?"

Natasha's words come back to Y/n. Lie once. Lie about something small. So they don't get suspicious. Y/n let her heart rate pick up a bit and purposely avoided eye contact. "No."

"Lie."

"It's okay to be nervous. God knows I would." Ross joked a few people chuckled and Y/n had to physically hold back an eye roll. He thinks he got her but in reality, he's right where she wanted.

He nodded to the staff and they walked over to her and began to prep her. They cleaned a small area of her arm with an alcohol pad. "This might hurt a bit." One muttered.

They stuck the needle into her arm and injected the serum. At first, it felt cool but then it hit her all at once it felt like someone poured a pan of grease on her. Y/n's skin was on fire, she bit her cheek so hard it nearly drew blood.

Bucky watched as Y/n closed her eyes and took a deep breath. If it was anything like the Super Soldier serum he knew it burn. She opened her eyes and if he didn't witness it he wouldn't even know it happened seconds ago.

General Ross walked back to the front and began to speak "We are ready to proceed. Did it hurt? I've never tried it."

"Yes." Like a bitch.

"What role do you play for the Avengers? Tony mentioned you've been there for 2 years."

"I'm their Chief Physician." The second part of his sentence was a statement so she missed lying by an inch.

"True."

He asked questions like that for a while or worded them differently. The questions were getting repetitive and Y/n was getting bored and impatient. She hasn't had to lie yet not that she wanted to. Especially not when she has the truth serum from hell injected in her veins.

"Have the Avengers ever put you in any unnecessary danger?" Ross questioned.

"Never." She replied trying not to bounce her leg.

"True."

"Tell me Miss Y/l/n how did you get that cut? It looks pretty deep." He paused seemingly watching for her reaction.

"My cat. She has some pretty mean claws." Y/n stated without missing a beat. She felt the burn of the serum. It wasn't as bad as the injection but damn did it fucking hurt. Despite that Y/n kept a straight face starting to get annoyed with him. She could hear the flutter of the cameras.

"True."

"Would you consider Miss Maximoff unstable in any way, shape, or form?"

Y/n has to stop her eyes from going wide. What the hell kind of question was that besides rude. It's like he wants her to lash out at him. "No."

The man watches the monitor for a few seconds "True." He finally says.

"Would you consider Mr. Barnes dangerous?"

The audacity of this man. You want to see someone dangerous? Let's see how dangerous I am when I choke you out with this cord that's wrapped around my finger- "No"

"True."

"Are you aware of his past?"

"Very much so. And that where it should stay the past. I don't know what you're trying to get at general."

"True."

"Were you aware that we are starting a search for Lilith and anyone with information on her that doesn't come forward will be sent to the raft? And were you aware that if we find her we are ordered to kill on sight?"

Y/n gets a bitter taste in her mouth. This cannot be happening. She can't freak out right now. She clenched her jaw "No I was not aware of either."

"True."

"Very well that's all." Ross returned to his seat among the UN.

The staff came over and unhooked her from the machine. Y/n felt like she could finally breathe. She stood up and walked out without glancing back. The Avengers did the same meanwhile getting swarmed with paparazzi.

Part 8

My mini taglist

@theashlynbarnes @writingonabrokenwall

[buubuu-sedai]

Introduction to my Love for Wheel of Time + Re-read Blog Announcement

Greetings various beings! I am here today to awkwardly ramble my way through an introduction and my intentions of starting a re-read blog of my beloved Wheel of Time. (TLDR I guess)

First things first!

A bit about myself ->->->

In reality I'm a 36 year old non-binary asexual person who is pretty neurodivergent (albeit undiagnosed). I have a deep nostalgic love for the 90's which pairs well with my cynical and existential nature. I am a liberal user of cuss words which has only been exacerbated by working in a kitchen (I'm a baker/line cook).

In virtual reality, buubuu sedai is all of those things plus gets to be a cat-person as well which is pretty rad, not gonna lie. Also they're Aes Sedai because I say so. Purple Ajah because ever since I discovered I was Ace the color purple has slowly overtaken my life lmao. Buubuu is a name for a character i created in high school after watching a lot of Dragon Ball Z. Majin Buu -> booboo -> buubuu. I don' t know it tickles my brain.

How I was First Introduced to Wheel of Time

My mother and her two sisters all love to read and their book interests varied from romance to fantasy to suspense and everything in between. They traded books between themselves pretty regularly and when I was maybe 10 or 11 (or maybe younger I dunno my memories are fuzzy) I got to be a part of that book trading group. I was already an avid reader as a child (I once got left on the playground after recess in elementary school because I was sitting on a swing reading Charlotte's Web) I loved borrowing books from the school library and would read whatever I could get my hands on. I did have an early preference for fantasy cuz I though wizards and elves were really cool (still do).

Around 13-14 one of my aunts had been reading WoT and they brought us the first 7ish books? Maybe 8. I was hooked pretty hard right from the beginning. As a kid I was extremely impressionable and I latched on to the characters straight away. I felt really attached to the story and world as it was an escape from my social awkwardness and my tumultuous home life. What a great escape it was holy cow.

Any time a new book came out my aunt would read it and then let us borrow it. I'd always request the other books so I could reread them, too! When I finally got myself a job (around 19 because I was riddled with anxiety) I started collecting all the books for myself so I could read whenever I wanted to.

After that I would just constantly do re-reads nearly every year. I had spoiled myself pretty young on the level of detail I expected from a book so while I did read other book series, I couldn't find that same world building anywhere but WoT.

Blog Intentions

I'm gonna start a re-read and do chapter summaries a few times a week. I'll do a spoiler free summary at the top and a spoiler heavy at the bottom with all my nostalgic impressions and rambling.

I wouldn't say I have an encyclopedic knowledge of the series, but I know a lot. I used to spend as much time as I could reading theories online as a teenager. I didn't have a ton of theories myself other than I really thought an actual dragon would show up at some point. (I thought the Spine of the World would turn out to be a sleeping dragon that woke up lmao)

Wheel of TIme pretty much lives rent free in my brain and I really haven't known anyone in real life who also has read it and loved it as much as me. So here I am on the interwebs to scream that love into the void and maybe have something scream back (ok maybe don't scream at me but maybe high five?)

Aaaaaanyway

I hope you'll join me and I can't wait to start!

[recurring-polynya]

For the Renji birthday prompt: A fic where Renji discovers that he can't go tits out anymore now that he's married (maybe with some jealous Rukia thrown in perhaps)?

I maintain that the new tits-in regime is self-imposed; I present to you my thesis. (I did not attempt to take on The Vest; I assume it came later, and I eagerly await more Vest Lore from Kubo himself)

Warning that I sincerely hope deters absolutely no one: This fic is about boobs. It contains many, many synonyms for boobs. Some of them are rude. 

Read on ao3 or ff.net

---

“I’m telling you, you’re jumping to conclusions. Sometimes he puts them away when he fights. He told me this.”

“I haven’t seen them in weeks.”

“It’s been winter.”

“That has never stopped him before. And it’s April now. Open season. And yet…?”

“I think we should just ask him.”

“You can’t just ask a guy, ‘hey, where did your tits go?’”

“I could, but I refuse. Abarai’s aesthetic is his own business.”

“Since when?”

“Okay, he’s here, someone’s gotta do it.”

“Not it!”

“Also not it!”

“Matsumoto, you have to do it. You’re the one who talked him into letting them hang out in the first place.”

“I agree with Yumichika. Renji knows what he’s doing, and if he has decided that the puppies are off-limits, that’s on him.”

“Hey, guys!” Abarai Renji’s cheerful voice rang out over the din of the bar. “Sorry I’m late!”

“Just means you have to catch up quick!” Rangiku declared, pouring him some sake.

“No missus tonight?” Shuuhei asked.

Renji’s entire face went pink and he got the same moony look in his eyes he always got whenever someone mentioned his wife or his marital state generally. “She sends her regards and says I’m supposed to drink extra for her. She goes over to the Manor on Wednesday evenings now to hang out with her brother.”

“Have you actually managed to call him by his given name yet?” Iba asked. “Now that you’re related?”

“His given name is ‘Captain’ and I call him that all the time,” Renji replied snottily.

“So. Renji,” Izuru said, leaning forward on his elbow. “Are you doing something different? With your look? I feel like there’s something different about you.”

Renji’s face lit up. “You noticed!” He swung his head around, his long braid swinging over his shoulder. “I’ve started braiding it!”

“Oh, no, it’s permanent?” Yumichika moaned.

“That’s not new,” Iba scoffed. “You slept with it like that the whole time we were roommates. I just figured that you didn’t have time to fix your hair in the morning anymore because you were too busy taking care--oof!”

“It looks very nice, Renji!” Momo said sweetly, extracting her elbow from Iba’s rib cage.

“It’s different,” Renji glowered at Iba. “I braid it loosely at night to prevent breakage and lock in moisture. This is an action braid.” He wheeled on Yumichika. “And I’m only French braiding it for now, because it’s shorter in front than in the back, you know, because of the accident. Once I’ve grown it out to all one length again, I’ll just do a regular braid.”

“You could just cut it to the length of the shortest part and go back to the pineapple hair,” Ikkaku suggested. “I always liked the pineapple hair.”

Renji turned pink again. “Ah, well. Rukia likes it long.”

“Yeah, I don’t think the braid is… what I was thinking of,” Izuru soldiered on.

Renji sucked his teeth thoughtfully. “I got a new tattoo? A pair, actually.”

“Oh! Did you?”

“On your chest?” Shuuhei asked hopefully. A healing tattoo would be a good excuse to cover up.

“Nah, on my thighs.”

Izuru sighed. “Since when do I look at your thighs, Abarai?”

“I have good thighs, Izuru.”

“He probably just looks different because he’s so happy now,” Rangiku suggested. “By which I mean getting your back blown out every night.”

“That could be it!” Renji agreed cheerfully. “Oh, I was wearing a scarf for a while there, when we had that cold snap! Is it the scarf? Or maybe the lack of scarf? It’s a nice scarf, Captain gave it to me for a wedding present. He says a man of quality should own a scarf.”

“I give up,” Izuru sighed.

“Hey, jocks, what’s going on?” a new voice interrupted.

“Akon!” half the table chorused and Renji scooted over so Akon could slide in next to him.

“Glad you could make it!”

“Yeah, sorry, I had an experiment I wanted to get finished up.”

“We were just talking about how there’s something different about Renji,” Shuuhei pressed.

Akon surveyed Renji for a moment. “Well, he’s got his tits tucked in for once. Aren’t you hot? You told me once you did that for ventilation.”

“That was very much a lie,” Renji clarified. “And I’m a married man now, my cans are closed for business. Speaking of which, Rangiku, fill ‘er up again, please, I’ve gotta keep up my wife’s reputation.”

---

Momo couldn’t believe this was happening to her. Out of their entire friend group, she was pretty sure she was the least interested in Renji’s… bosoms. There was a time… long, long ago when she had thought he was pretty hot stuff. She still counted him among her closest friends and favorite people, but had long ago come to the conclusion that big and beefy just wasn’t her type.

“Why, Lieutenant Hinamori! What brings you to my office?” Acting Captain Kuchiki Rukia leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers. She must have been practicing, because the last time Momo had seen her do that, she had nearly fallen backwards out of the chair.

Momo sighed. “I have to tell you, this isn’t business.” Not exactly. It sort of was, in the sense that Shuuhei and Matsumoto (who apparently did care very much about Renji’s chest situation, so long as she wasn’t the one who had to confront him about it) had come over and dramatically draped themselves all over the Squad 5 couch and complained about the dreary state of affairs to Captain Hirako until he ordered Momo to go do some investigating.

“Good, because I have been filling out Nanao’s new skills-inventory-for-seated-officer forms all morning and I’m about to lose it,” Rukia said with an overly cheerful grin.

“We could go out to the yard and fight?” Momo offered hopefully. Maybe she could tell Captain Hirako that she got distracted and forgot to ask about Renji.

Rukia’s face fell a little. “Er, I’d love to, but I really shouldn’t today. Sentarou just made me this pot of tea, though. Do you want some? It’s lemon ginger, it’s really good.”

“Sure,” Momo agreed.

“So what’s up?” Rukia asked again, once Momo was perched in the guest chair, a fragrant cup of tea cradled in her hands.

Well, might as well just rip the bandage off. “I need you to know that I was put up to this by… you know. The idiots. The cowards we go drinking with.”

“Understood,” Rukia agreed.

“There is… some concern… about your husband.”

Rukia’s eyebrows shot up. “My sweet pumpkin pants?”

“I’m leaving,” Momo announced.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Rukia waved her hands, laughing. “I’ll be serious. What has that lunkhead done now?”

“This is so dumb,” Momo muttered. She cleared her throat. “He’s stopped going around with his bazongas hanging out all the time, and everyone’s losing their minds over it.”

Rukia stared at her. “Excuse me, his what?”

Momo made a vague gesture at her own chest. “You know. His… boobies.”

“That’s what I thought you meant,” Rukia nodded, her brow creased in thought. “Bazongas. I like that.”

“Not that I care!” Momo excused. “I mean, I agree, he should be allowed to dress how he likes, but you two seem to have a very equitable relationship and I said that I was sure he wasn’t doing anything that he hadn’t agreed to--”

“Hold on,” Rukia interrupted. “You think I had something to do with this?”

“You didn’t?” Momo asked. “He said he was keeping them tucked in because he was married now. We assumed it was at your request.”

“I didn’t even know!” Rukia replied. “I mean, I came home yesterday, and he was just--” she made a hand gesture like she was pulling her kosode open, “--completely out--”

“I don’t need to hear this,” Momo begged.

“Well, I tell you I had nothing to do with it,” Rukia assured her. “No one is more supportive of Renji acting slutty in public than me. Everyone knows I have that locked down, and honestly, it just makes me seem more powerful.”

Momo squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m going to punch Shuuhei so hard.”

Rukia rubbed her index finger over her chin. “It’s possible this came down from Brother…”

Momo whimpered, although, honestly, having a conversation with the other Captain Kuchiki about Abarai’s pectorals couldn’t possibly be more awkward than this.

“...or it might be… something else.” Rukia frowned. “I’ll talk to him, okay?”

“You will?” Momo asked hopefully.

“Yeah, I’ll take care of it. I can’t promise to bring the jugs back, but I’ll make sure it’s just Renji being a doofus and not Renji hiding his anxieties under aesthetic choices or Renji being oppressed by his brother-in-law.”

“Thank you, Rukia,” Momo said. Rukia could be bossy at times, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. “Sometimes, Renji has to be bullied into taking care of himself.”

“You’re telling me!” Rukia exclaimed. “Thank you for caring about him,” she added warmly.

“For the record, I care about him,” Momo replied. “Everyone else just misses the view.”

“Noted,” Rukia replied.

---

Renji had his nose stuffed in his cookbook, which lately, wasn’t a good sign. Renji only owned one cookbook, an encyclopedic tome that he only cracked open when he was trying something new or otherwise wasn’t sure what he was doing.

“I hope you aren’t making that kale curry again,” Rukia noted dryly.

Renji jumped three feet in the air. “Aaah, shoot! Rukia! I didn’t hear you come in! I’m so sorry!”

Rukia hopped up on her kitchen stool and leaned across the counter to give him a kiss. “We’ve been married for four months now. You don’t have to greet me at the door every single day, you know.”

“Sixteen weeks, three days,” Renji replied. “And I can still be sorry about it.”

“Just tell me we’re having something normal for dinner, and I’ll forgive you,” Rukia replied.

Renji jerked a thumb toward the stove behind him. “I made oden,” he explained. “It’s simmering, probably’ll be another ten minutes.”

“Ohhhhhh, I love your oden!” Rukia stretched her arms across the counter and did grabby hands at his hands until he laced his fingers through hers. “Did you make enough for me to take some for lunch tomorrow?”

“Depends on how much you eat tonight,” he replied. “Your appetite’s been really hit or miss lately.”

“Yeah, well...” Rukia agreed. “So what’s with the cookbook, then?”

“Oh,” Renji said vaguely. “I’m thinking about learning to bake cookies?”

“I’m in favor of that,” Rukia agreed, although her mind immediately went back to the conversation she’d had with Momo that afternoon.

“I’m not sure this book is helping,” Renji admitted. “If I was any good at baking, it would be one thing, but it’s too different. I’ve always been better at learning stuff from other people. Do you think it would be weird if I asked Iba’s mom to teach me? She used to make these little sesame biscuits for Iba. I would always steal them from him. They were so good and he didn’t properly appreciate them anyway.”

“It would absolutely be weird, and I think you should do it anyway,” Rukia proclaimed. She paused. “But maybe you could wait a few more weeks until we tell everyone we’re pregnant so all your friends will stop asking me what’s wrong with you.”

Renji’s eyes widened. “Did your brother say something last night? Because he told me he liked the braid!”

Rukia snorted. “No. He’s worse than you are anyway, he’s been reading books. Please make him stop, if you can. Actually, I’ve been getting complaints about,” she circled a finger in the vicinity of Renji’s chest.

Renji glanced down, and realized that his kosode was still neatly folded up to his collarbone. “Oops, sorry! I told you I didn’t hear you come home.” He immediately began untucking it.

Rukia leaned her chin on her palm, watching his progress. “I realize that making emotionally constipated people face their feelings is usually your department, but it seems you’ve got something heavy rattling around in there. Wanna talk about it?”

Renji’s eyes slid to one side. “Talk about what?”

Rukia cocked an eyebrow and waited.

Renji heaved a sigh. “Do you remember that time, back in Inuzuri, the first time I used my reiatsu in public? When I blocked a lead pipe with my arm?”

Rukia almost choked. “What do you mean, do I remember it? Of course I remember it.”

“Well, not so much that, but do you remember afterward, when you said I was too big and mean to be a sneakthief anymore? That it was better to confront the world and show it what we were made of?”

“I do remember that. I did not call you mean.”

“You probably didn’t. It’s probably just something I thought about myself.” He looked pensive for a moment. “In any case, it was something I really took to heart, especially after we split up. At first, I just wanted to make myself as big and loud and scary as possible. I liked the way people shied away from me. Later on, after I started hanging out with Yumichika, I realized that walking around sexy could be intimidating in a different sort of way, and I liked that, too.”

Rukia had a comment for that, but she decided to just listen, instead.

Renji smoothed the page of his book with his fingers. “I don’t want to look scary anymore.”

“You don’t look scary,” Rukia reassured him. “You haven’t looked scary in a long time.”

“I want to do better than that, though,” Renji frowned. “Has your brother ever talked to you about his dad?”

Rukia blinked, surprised, mostly that Byakuya had talked about Soujun with Renji. “A few times.”

“I, uh, asked him what his dad was like. Since I never had one myself. I expected him to either blow me off or start bellyaching, like he does about his granddad, but he didn’t. He said his pop was very gentle and kind. He said he was a good dad.”

“Byakuya loved his father a lot.”

“Yeah, that was pretty clear.”

“I hope he finished by saying what a good father you will make, but it’s my brother, so I’m sure he didn’t.”

“He said something about how he was sure I would proceed in my own way.”

Rukia sighed again. “Renji, you’ll be a great dad. It’s super obvious. I’ve only told half a dozen people that I’m pregnant and all of them who aren’t Byakuya have immediately reacted with ‘Renji is going to be such a good dad.’ You don’t need to change anything about yourself.”

Renji sucked his teeth for a moment. “Well, all my good dad instincts are telling me our kid is gonna wanna fight the world bad enough as it is, that the last thing they need is a dad who wants to fight the world, too. I’ve fought the world long enough. I’m probably never gonna be gentle, but I can try my best to be kind, and I can dress like a normal person in public for a change and… maybe I can make a cookie? It’s worth a try, I think.”

Rukia flashed him a sad, but fond smile. “You’re such a dork. A sweet, thoughtful dork, though, and I will support your experiment, even though you know I love your bazongas more than anyone.”

“‘Bazongas’? Oh no, did those assholes make Momo come and talk to you?”

Rukia shrugged and tried to look innocent.

“Anyway, you’re my wife, I will take them out for you whenever you want.”

“Yay!”

Renji furrowed his brow into its “determined” configuration. “Do not get me wrong. I am actually upping my chest day routine. I am going to keep them immaculate, and when my shirt gets ripped off in a fight, people are going to lose their minds over how lush my boys are.”

“I love you so much,” Rukia replied.

[svnflowervol666]

Ma Petite Chérie: Sweet Creature (Harry Styles x fem!Reader)

Read more from this little universe, Ma Petite Chérie, in my masterlist!

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Harry goes out of town and leaves Tallulah with Y/N for the week. 

Author’s Note: Hiiiii. I decided to turn Ma Petite Chérie into it’s own little “thing,” so here’s another look at Harry, Tallulah and Y/N’s life! I’ve found it much easier to write in little blips rather than following a direct plot, so expect random little moments featuring the three of them. Also, this is not proofread and I am going through a period of having full blown insomnia, so I’m praying there aren’t too many mistakes. I hope you all enjoy and send any ideas, asks, or questions you have for them my way and I’ll be happy to respond! Take care and TPWK.

“I left her car seat in the garage. If she starts gettin’ fussy during the day, just put her in her room and turn on the noise machine and let her color - that usually does it. I refilled her medicine the other day, didn’t I-”

“Har-,” she shushed him, “We’ll be fine. I know the drill. Allergy meds and gummy vitamins in the morning, french vocabulary every other day, no tv before bed, and no sugar after six.”

He took a deep breath in and placed his palms on top of Y/N’s that are gripping his shoulders to ground him. He was a mess, but how could he not when one of the only people he trusted with his daughter, his mother, was away on holiday and couldn’t stay with her when he had to go on a week-long business trip? It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Y/N, he absolutely did. He just hated feeling like she thought he was using her as a free babysitter rather than the loving girlfriend she actually was. That couldn’t be further from the truth, but his anxieties always had a way of getting the best of him.

“Sorry. Always get nervous leavin’ her. Feel like something bad’s gonna happen every time and I won’t be there t’ help her.”

“It’s just a few days, bubs. She seems to like me, or at least pretends to. I’ll keep her entertained. Take her to the park and go get our nails done or something. It’ll be like one, big sleepover.”

“If yeh take her t’ the park, make sure yeh put sunscreen o-”

“Harry,” she’s stern and it shut Harry up immediately.

“Right,” he paused and took another intense, labored breath in an attempt to stop himself from canceling his plans and just staying home with Y/N and Tallulah for the week.

“She does like yeh. Asks about yeh all the time when you’re gone. Loves yeh a lot, actually. We both do.”

That word used to scare him, love. He realized long ago that he had only ever truly been in love with his daughter, so making himself vulnerable to sharing those same emotions with another person was genuinely terrifying. But each and every time, Y/N does something to remind him that it is well-worth the internal struggle he’s endured. 

The proud smile that adorned Y/N’s face at his words is another one of those moments. It’s full of light and reassurance that his baby will be perfectly safe and healthy while he tended to business an entire continent away.

“I love you both as well. Might have a slight preference towards Lulah, but it’s nothing to worry yourself over.”

“Swear yeh only datin’ me because of her,” Harry muttered under his breath.

“You’re absolutely right,” she scoffed, “I only come over five nights out of the week to watch The Little Mermaid with her and I just tolerate you.”

Harry laughed, a genuine cackle that reared his cavernous dimples and turned the apples of his cheeks a pale shade of pink.

“I’d do the same,” he said with a shrug.

“Harry, you’re stalling. You’re gonna miss your flight if you don’t get on the road soon. I don’t think you want me to kick you out of the door.”

He feigned ponderance and tapped his index finger on his chin.

“I do love it when yeh mean t’ me.”

“Harry, go.”

“Alright, alright. I’m leaving. Just...check in with me every once in a while. Let me know how she’s doin’, yeah? I’ll call every night t’ talk t’ her.”

“Was already expecting you to.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” she repeated.

He cleared his throat, heart weighing heavy in his chest. He knew he was supposed to leave for the airport ten minutes ago, but he couldn’t find himself to wheel his luggage out to the trunk of his car.

“Goodbye, Harry,” Y/N whispers in hushed tones.

She reached up on her tiptoes to plant a chaste kiss on his bright pink lips, which he then took upon himself to deepen by loosely wrapping his fingers around her throat and applying just enough pressure to make her contemplate giving into his obvious hesitance about leaving.

“Tell Lulah I love her when she wakes up, okay? Feel like shit leavin’ her in the middle of the night.”

“I’ll tell her first thing.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too, Harry,” she smiles, “See you in a week.”

//

Their first few days went by smoothly, a little too smoothly, Y/N thinks. She’d let her pick one activity to do each day and it seemed like to Harry and Y/N, she was having the time of her life. 

Monday was the park, an obvious choice for a toddler. Tallulah wore herself out so much that she’d gone to bed that night with no trouble whatsoever.

Tuesday was a pampering day. Y/N had tried to get them into her preferred nail salon for pedicures, but there were no empty slots so she’d made up Harry’s master bathroom to look like a spa. She painted Tallulah’s nails blue (because Tallulah said blue was her dad’s favorite color), ran her a bubble bath with more bubbles than Harry ever allowed, and even let her put on some of her expensive face mask cream (Harry nearly shit himself out of pure adoration when he received a selfie of the two of them with pink goop smeared all over their faces and cucumbers over their eyes).

Tallulah’s request for Wednesday was a trip to the carnival that was in town, in which Y/N spent nearly fifteen dollars trying to win a stuffed bear for her but was unsuccessful. They went home with a real, live goldfish instead that Tallulah named Carrot because she claimed he looked like her favorite vegetable - she told Tallulah not to mention it to Harry and that she’d break the news to him later. She even let Tallulah have sugar after six o’clock (what Harry knew wouldn’t hurt him and besides, she told Y/N that she’d never had cotton candy before and Y/N totally wanted bragging rights for introducing her to basically a two-year-old’s fever dream of eating pink clouds).

She hadn’t asked about Harry once.

It wasn’t until Wednesday night after the carnival and her bath and daily FaceTime call with him that she began to get antsy with Y/N, claiming that she wanted her dad to tuck her in and read her a bedtime story. No matter how many times Y/N told her that Harry couldn’t do that but that he would be home in a few days, Tallulah didn’t understand why her dad wasn’t there to give her cuddles and rub her back until she fell asleep like he often did. Eventually, her exhaustion caught up to her and she gave in to the need for sleep, but Y/N had a feeling that that wouldn’t be the end of her tantrum.

It was nearly eleven o’clock, and Y/N was in the living room enjoying a glass of red wine from Harry’s vast collection of alcohol that he kept in his office (for some reason he had an irrational fear that Tallulah would somehow get into it, so he kept it locked away in a room where she wasn’t allowed in). The fermented concoction had almost lulled her to into a light slumber right there on the couch in the middle of a documentary about how agriculture influenced climate change when she heard the piercing cries of a toddler coming from down the hall.

Y/N rushed towards Tallulah’s room, all effects of the wine immediately dissipating as her mind went to the worst possible scenario. She’d fallen off her bed and hurt herself, she was having an allergic reaction, there was a strange man in her room trying to kidnap her. But there was seemingly nothing wrong with Tallulah when Y/N flung her bedroom door open so quickly she almost broke the knob.

“What’s wrong, Lulah?” she asked as she approached her on the bed that sat low to the ground.

Tallulah was red in the face, covered in a thin layer of sweat, and tears continuously flowed from her bright, green eyes that looked exactly like Harry’s and even shifted a teal blue in the sunlight.

Y/N’s heart sunk when she heard it. Over and over again. Nothing else. Only crying out one word.

“Daddy.”

She didn’t want to overwhelm her, so Y/N laid down next to Tallulah and pulled her close. As she brushed her curls away from where they were matted to her sweaty forehead, Y/N cooed her reptitiously in an attempt to calm her down. After about three minutes of incesant crying and copious amounts of fat, shiny tears, Y/N needed a better idea.

“I know you miss him, bubs. I miss him too. But he’ll be home soon, okay? I know something that might make you feel better. Do you want to come in daddy’s room with me?”

It was quiet and muffled over her blubbery cries, but Y/N heard a tiny, “yes,” escape through her lips and then she was scooping Tallulah up into her arms and carrying her off to the master bedroom.

She placed her in the middle of Harry’s bed and quickly began digging through Harry’s dresser for what she was looking for. When she found it, she ran back to Tallulah’s curled up body on the mattress.

“Okay, whenever I miss your dad, I put on one of his shirts because it smells like him. It always makes me feel like he’s close to me. Do you want try that?” 

The toddler had calmed down dramatically since she’d left her own bed, most likely due to exhaustion from crying so much in such a short period of time. She gave Y/N a gentle nod and let her take off her matching set of pajamas and replace them with the shirt of Harry’s that dropped almost all of the way to her feet. It was a white t-shirt with the words “Dream Boat” screened onto the fabric, which was perhaps a bit controversial for his two-year-old daughter to be wearing, but it was the smallest shirt of his that she could find. Otherwise, it’d be falling off of her shoulders and she wouldn’t be able to move.

“Can you smell it?” Y/N bunches the fabric in her hands and raises it to Tallulah’s nose.

“Smells like daddy, doesn’t it?”

Tallulah inhaled the best she could through her stuffy nose.

“‘mells good,” she whimpered, reaching her short arms to wrap around Y/N’s neck.

“Do you want to lie in daddy’s bed with me for a little bit? You can sleep in here, if you want,” Y/N spoke softly into Tallulah’s hair while she held her.

Y/N felt a nod against her chest and that was all it took for her to climb towards the pillow with Tallulah in her arms. She laid Tallulah on Harry’s side of the bed, hoping that the extra scent he left in the sheets would further will her back to sleep.

And it worked.

After reaffirming what felt like a million times that Harry would cuddle her for an entire day straight when he got home because he missed her just as much as she missed him, her eyes slowly shut and peace took over. Y/N thought the coast was clear and a crisis had been averted, and she also remembered that she hadn’t taken her makeup off yet. So she wriggled Tallulah off of her chest and slipped stealthily out of the bed like a burglar attempting to not get caught and tiptoed away into the bathroom to wash her face.

Right when she was patting her face dry with one of the plush towels on the rack in Harry’s bathroom, she realized that the coast was indeed, not clear, and Tallulah began wailing once again.

“It’s okay, Lulah. I’m right here,” Y/N consoled the small girl that looked even smaller in Harry’s king-sized bed.

But she wasn’t interested in Y/N at all. Her sobbing was louder than the last and it was Harry’s name that fell from her weepy lips like it was the only thing keeping her alive. This time, Y/N knew there was nothing that could soothe her besides Harry himself.

“Here, baby,” Y/N wriggled the toddler out of her arms and reached over to the nightstand to grab her cell phone, “Let’s see if daddy’s awake and maybe you can talk to him again, okay?”

“Okay,” Tallulah huffed, but it sounded more like “o-tay.”

Under any other circumstances, Y/N would be awing at the way she said certain words, but now, she just wanted Tallulah to go back to sleep. She was just as exhausted as Tallulah and was starting to become overwhelmed by the nature of everything that was happening.

Harry picked up her FaceTime on the second ring, eyes wide and concerning even though Y/N could tell that her call had woken him up.

“What’s goin’ on? ‘S she alright?”

Her cries that he heard through his speaker broke his heart, and he wanted nothing more than to jump on the next flight home to hold his sweet little girl until all of the tears had dried from her face.

“She’s been crying for the last hour, Har. She wants you. Maybe talk to her a little and see if she calms down?”

She heard Harry curse under his breath and rub the sleep out of his eyes. There was a sense of relief that washed over him when he realized that everything was alright and his daughter wasn’t in any immediate danger, but he didn’t quite feel better by any means. Y/N tilted the phone down towards Tallulah who had taken to rubbing the corner of Harry’s pillowcase between her thumb and forefinger.

“Lulah, baby. Talk t’ me. What’s the matter?”

“Daddy?” her face lifted from where it was buried in her stuffed elephant that she’d had since she was a baby and looked up to see her father’s face lit up on Y/N’s phone screen.

“Hi, lovie. Why’re yeh cryin’?”

“Want you come home,” she pouted, her bottom lip jutting out in a way that made her look far too adorable for how sad she really was.

“I know yeh do, petal. I’ll be home soon. I promise. Then, we can have a big cuddle. Does that sound good?”

“You come home tomorrow?” she asked, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

Harry internally cringed when he saw her wipe it on his sheets, but he was obviously not going to scold her for it at the moment.

“Not tomorrow, but soon. I’m not goin’ anywhere for a long time after this so it’ll be just me and you for a bit.”

Tallulah grew upset by this, and understandably so. Her dad always gave her cuddles when she was sad. Why was he telling her that he couldn’t?

He sensed her tears springing back to life, to which he quickly diverted her attention away from.

“Tell me more about what yeh did with Y/N today at the carnival, bug.”

After sucking up a few slobbery breaths, Tallulah was able to speak to Harry again.

“We got a fishy.”

Damnit.

Harry’s ears perked up.

“A fishy? At the carnival? How did yeh do that?”

“Y/N gotted it.”

“She did?”

Y/N knew Harry was not only talking to Tallulah but also to her. A tone that suggested Y/N had some explaining to do, but he wasn’t going to bring that up now.

“Yeah, she winned a game.”

“Does the fishy have a name?”

“Carrot.”

This made Harry snort, as he was not expected that one.

“And did Y/N get Carrot a nice bowl and some food?”

“Mhmm,” Tallulah nodded, “He’s in the kitchen.”

“Well, that sounds lovely. I can’t wait to meet Carrot. Gonna give him cuddles when I get home, too.”

“He said he loves you.”

“That’s very sweet of him. Tell Carrot I love him, too.”

There was a long pause in which Harry, Tallulah, and Y/N all yawned, clearly overtaken by the urge to fall into a deep sleep.

“It’s really late, Lulah. Yeh think yeh can go back t’ bed for me?”

Tallulah brazenly shook her head from side to side, no. 

Harry sighed heavily, his frustration and sadness becoming all too much for him to bear. He was nervous to do what he was about to offer, but he knew it was the last resort in anyone in this scenario getting any sleep whatsoever.

“What if I sing yeh your song? Will that make yeh feel better?”

He watched as her eyes light up with a glint of joy and he knew that that was possibly the cure to everyone’s problems. 

“Peas?”

“Of course, baby. Thank yeh for usin’ yeh manners.”

Y/N laid the phone down so she could reposition Tallulah in her lap as Harry’s melodic voice began to pour from the speakers.

It was her favorite song in the entire world. No matter what was wrong or how upset she was, the second he sang the first few notes and the sound registered in her ears, Tallulah was always able to bring herself back down to earth. 

The first time he sang it to her, she was only ten weeks old, just two weeks after she was brought into his life. He first thought it was a one-off chance that the song had lulled her to sleep, but he quickly found out he was wrong and that she took a genuine liking to it. He’s always assumed it brought on a sense of familiarity and comfort to her whenever she felt like her tiny, two-year-old life was crashing down on her. 

Y/N had never actually seen him sing to her. She’d heard it a time or two through the door of her bedroom when she stayed over, but she’d never asked Harry about it. She had always let their song be just that - their song.

Hopefully, and he genuinely means hopefully, the trick works just as well as it usually does despite him not being there physically. He’s got to be up at five and he refuses to hang up the phone until his baby isn’t sad anymore.

It took a bit longer than usual, but by the second round of the chorus, her eyelids were heavy and the grip she had on Y/N’s lotus pendant had weakened. Hell, the song almost put Y/N to sleep as well. Had she not been worried sick over waking Harry up in the middle of the night and his daughter spilling the beans about the fucking fish, she would have been out well before Tallulah. She loved his singing voice, but she only ever got to hear it when he bopping along to a song on the radio or when he was really, really drunk. 

As the last few notes of the song trailed to silence, both Y/N and Harry took a peek at Tallulah through the phone screen, eager to see if she was fully asleep or just in a state of tranquility. Sure enough, she was out cold.

“I think she’s asleep,” Y/N whispered.

“Thank god,” Harry muttered, “Bloody awful, that was. She’d been cryin’ like that the whole time?”

“Pretty much. Sorry for calling so late, I didn’t know what else to do.”

“‘S alright. Honestly, I was waiting for it. When she stays with mum, I usually get a call or two just like this. By the way, was she wearin’ my ‘Dream Boat’ shirt?”

Y/N starts to chuckle but remembers there is a fragile (both physically and emotionally) child on her chest and she can’t move too much in fear of waking her back up.

“Yeah, she is. I told her I wear your shirts and sleep on your side of the bed when I miss you because they smell like you and thought it would calm her down. It kinda did, but she woke up when I left to go to the bathroom.”

“Christ,” Harry wipes his face with his large, ringed hands.

“What?”

“That’s the cutest shit I’ve ever heard in my life. I love you. A lot.”

“I love you a lot, too,” Y/N grinned.

After a brief moment, Harry talks again.

“So, what’s this about a fish named Carrot?”

Y/N grits her teeth together and sucks in a deep breath.

“Have you seen her face? I know you have. What was I supposed to tell her? No? Got that fucker on the first try after spending seventeen dollars trying to win her a stuffed animal.”

A laugh from deep within Harry’s belly reached the surface and he stifled it with his fist.

“You’ve got a point, princess.”

“I can get rid of him, if you want. I figured she’d get bored and forget about him in a few days, so it wasn’t a big deal.”

“No,” Harry insists, “Keep him. Teach her how t’ take care of him. Give her a responsibility. Maybe she’ll stop harrassin’ me about gettin’ a damn cat.”

“Already done,” Y/N smiles proudly at the camera.

“She knows we feed him in the mornings and she told me she’d help clean his bowl once a week. Even taught her how to say ‘fish’ in french.”

“Have I already told yeh that I love yeh? ‘Cause I do.”

“You did. But I don’t mind hearing it again.”

Harry took a moment to just look at her. Her eyes were bloodshot and he knew she probably felt like she’d just been to hell and back, but there, with his baby girl on her chest, she had never looked more beautiful. He was physically incapable of stopping the words that left his mouth.

“Move in with me.”

“Hmm?” she lifted her head from where it was resting halfway on her pillow and halfway on Harry’s as if to see if he really just said what she thought he said.

“Only if yeh want to. I know it’s a bigger deal because of Lulah, so I get it if yeh still want yeh space. Just...really want yeh around all of the time. And I know she does, too.”

Y/N smiled from ear to ear and placed her free hand that wasn’t holding the phone on top of Tallulah’s curls. She’d been wondering when this conversation would happen, given that she sleeps over at Harry’s more than she does her own apartment and she’d slowly taken over half of the drawers in his bathroom and three shelves in his closet; she just hadn’t expected it to come at midnight, directly after his daughter had the biggest meltdown she’d ever witnessed.

“If I say yes, will you sing to me like that every night?”

Harry blushed beet red as he breathed heavily through his nose.

“If that’s what it takes. Then, yes.”

“Think Lulah’s strong enough to help me carry some boxes?”

[creativeashproductions]

What If...? III // Alive!Luke Patterson

Summary: The aftermath of both the car accident and the proposal is something Luke struggles with dividing you two for the first time. With an ultimatum in place Luke finds himself standing in front of his childhood home but can he open the door he had locked and shut?

Warning: Swearing, talk of injuries, self-guilt, angst, Unsaid Emily (I’m a terrible person), and fluff (I SWEAR THERE IS FLUFF IN THIS)

Words: 4.0k

Requested: By @beautifulblogsblog . There will be two more parts at least.

A/N: Grammarly estimates that this will take a little over 15 minutes to read. I also almost made you not get an answer to a make or break question somewhere in here but I wanted to make up for the cliffhanger in part one.

*Bobby’s last name in this is Willis, it will come clear why soon.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist (other parts for What If can be found in the masterlist)

(This goddamn shirt is also a warning holy christ)

Hollywood 1996

Life after the car accident was strange, to say the least. You lived with the guilt that your father couldn’t pick up a guitar. He had severely broken his arm in the crash in the instinctive moment to protect you. Your mother hovered, and Luke was there, but something changed since his hospital proposal.

There was a weird tension between you and him that concerned Alex because Luke wouldn’t talk about it. He would change the subject whenever Alex inquired about that empty ring box he found. Luke hadn’t told the guys he planned to propose and being rejected wasn’t something he wanted to share. However, one night he finally did.

“You could propose at the Eiffel Tower!” Reggie suggested having seen a commercial with the tower in the background. His excitement was visible to the band members in the living room.

 “Too cheesy.” Luke grumbled, rolling his eyes slouching down on the couch, “I’m not proposing.”

“I understand it’s a big step b-“

“I’m not proposing because I already did.” Luke snapped running hand through his messy hair with a glower. Alex was quiet, taking in the news and watching Luke’s body language.

“Oh congrat-“

“Read the damn room.” Luke snapped, slamming his pen on the coffee table as he stalked up the stairs to his bedroom. The resounding slam of his door marking his anger more prominent. Alex flinched at the sound.

“Was it something-“

“Seriously man?” Alex groaned, shaking his head at the bassist standing up from the armchair leaving the bassist the lone sitter, “You are so lucky you can play bass.”

Alex left Reggie downstairs to enter Luke’s room where he was throwing darts at the board harshly. Luke didn’t need to turn around to know Alex was in his personal place with one goal in mind, to cheer his bandmate up.

“What happened?” Alex asked, sitting in the second-hand office chair with a hole in the seat. His blue eyes watching the jerky movements from the obviously frustrated guitarist.

“She said no.” Luke whispered, rubbing a hand over his weary hazel eyes, more of a blue with the sadness he felt, “I proposed, and she said no.”

“I’m sorry. Did Y/N say why?” Alex hesitated to ask the question fearing Luke would fully snap as he had down a few times in the past. The one time was when he found Alex crying as an asshole overheard Alex admit to his crush on Jonathan Taylor Thomas after seeing him on Home Improvement. Courtesy of Luke, that asshole never breathed a word about it.

“An ultimatum. She won’t say yes until I fix things with my parents.” Luke sighed collapsing onto his bed, staring at the blue ceiling. Going back home after hurting his mom was something hard to do.

The night he left had been filled with a lot of words he regretted saying, he can’t even remember the last time he told his mom he loved her. The last time dinner hadn’t been tense and filled with anger. There was a pang of deep guilt for running out on his family, his mother and seeing the missing person posters further hammered the guilt in.

“She has a point.” Alex admitted, “We made it. We proved to our parents that this band was worth it. Take it from me. I would give anything for my parents to be the way they were before I told them I’m gay.”

Luke was quiet.

“You have a chance to fix things and Luke, that’s something you’ll regret. Remember the night of The Orpheum? We were gonna get street dogs? If we had, we would have died man.”

“I guess we got lucky?” Luke half-smiled remembering when they had been walking near the Orpheum a few days after performing.

The guy that sold the street dogs was arrested, and an ambulance was taking a couple to the hospital. The couple died, and it made the guys think how close they could have come to dying all the times they ate out of the Oldsmobile.

“We did. She loves you, Luke, but if you love her. You’ll reach out to your parents. I know they would love it.” Alex spoke, squeezing his best friends’ shoulder before he let himself out of the bedroom.

Alex joined Reggie in the living room watching a VHS they had rented from Blockbuster this morning. A smile appearing on Alex’s face as the muted familiar sound of a guitar came from upstairs. The sad melody Luke had taught his band playing.

“So, what year do you think we should release a country album? I can play the banjo.” Reggie asked, looking over at Alex with a thoughtful expression, “I’ve been writing this wicked song. I’m thinking of calling it ‘Home is Where My Horse Is’? How long would it take you to learn how to fiddle?”

“Reggie. I love you man, but I am not gonna be barefoot in overalls fiddling.” Alex spoke, shaking his head at his bandmate who pouted softly.

Alex and Reggie fell asleep on the couch that night while Luke worked tirelessly through the night on Unsaid Emily. It was by far the most personal song he had ever written, but it was the only way he could release the feelings he had. By the time morning came, his eyes had turned bloodshot and swollen.

Luke’s hands trembled at the sight of the childhood home he hadn’t been inside in months, not since that cold December night he left. The car was parked in the very same spot with the front bumper still dinged from when Luke was practising for his license.

Luke had developed a streak to avoid the bitter taste of disappointment from his parents. He would sneak out to gigs or little known locations with Alex; either for the band and his secret relationship. Luke never breathed a word of the relationship for the safety of Alex and avoid anything that would spike his boyfriend’s anxiety. The guilt died down when he and Alex mutually decided to be friends instead, but the band topic was different. At fourteen it was becoming apparent to Luke’s parents that this band wasn’t a hobby to him anymore, the first time his parents regretted buying the guitar.

“C’mon!” Bobby hissed from the safety of the curb. Luke was behind the wheel of his family’s station wagon in the dead of night. Reggie stationed in front of the car and Alex behind it, “This is stupid guys!”

Luke shakily took a breath in putting the car in drive to align with Reggie before he placed the vehicle in reverse. Learning to parallel park seemed to be going well as Luke did okay pulling into the parking spot. He got ahead of himself; however, when he moved to drive forward to center between Reggie and Alex. He may have hit the gas too hard.

“Ah!” Reggie screamed as the car bumped in him in the leg. The boy went down shuddering while his three friends hurried to his side.

“Are you okay?” Luke asked not minding the sting of the asphalt on his covered knees seeing as he just hit his best friend.

“I’m good.” Reggie raised one thumb in the air. Each boy leaned back in relief confirming the bassist was as good as Reginald could be.

 “Why the hell didn’t you move out of the way?” Luke demanded helping the boy up from the ground with a deep frown.

 “I was a traffic cone. Cones can’t move unless they get moved.” Reggie proudly announced with his typical oblivious attitude. Reggie wasn’t stupid, he was definitely the comedic relief in the band and prided himself on it.

“I-what. Okay..” Alex whispered to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Sometimes I don’t know Reg.”

Reggie shrugged it off while a familiar girl jogged down the road with a furrowed brow, a girl that had lived in Luke’s neighbourhood for a while. She was moving to a bigger house soon, but she was an acquaintance that had never acknowledged the group.

“Are you okay?” The girl, you, questioned the bassist scanning him over as Luke stared dreamily at her. His ever-changing eye colour turning a soft mossy green at the girl that had held his heart for years; only temporarily vacating it for Alex.

“Oh, totally. This doesn’t hurt as much as the amp.” Reggie supplied waving it off whereas you were more worried the guy hit his head. Your gaze scanned the boys of Riot Curve. A deep developing on the pale cheeks of the Patterson boy.

“Aren’t you guys in my grade?” You questioned pursing your lips together, “You’d be like thirteen. Why are you driving? Aren’t you a little short to see over the steering wheel?”

A bark of laughter fell from Bobby Willis’ mouth, earning him a glance from you, closing his mouth as Luke’s look of disgust.

“I’m not short!” Luke shouted, “I’ll have you know I grew!”

You snickered at his offended expression, “Dude, I’m joking. You’ll get a growth spurt soon. Besides, I think you have bigger issues than your vertical challenge.”

A question fell from Luke’s lips before he followed your view. The bumper of his parent’s car had a small dent that his father would most definitely discover at some point.

“Oh, I am dead meat.” Luke sprouted just before the guys started brainstorming explanations that didn’t include four fourteen-year-old boys out after curfew driving.

“Hey, I have a little experience with bands and whatnot. Just a suggestion, maybe consider changing your band name from Riot Curve to something else.” You suggested starting to jog back to your house, “See you in class!”

Luke once again stared dreamily after your form forgetting what he should be worried about.

“Our name is already-“

“Sunset Curve.” Luke shouted, earning weird looks from his bandmates at the rather uncharacteristic change of mind, “We are renaming the band.”

“Why?” Bobby scoffed, “We agreed on Riot Curve!”

“Uh, no. You two did. Reggie and I weren’t there.” Alex raised one his eyebrows facing Bobby, “I was sick with the flu, and Reggie was at his aunt’s second wedding.”

“Why the name?” Reggie asked his pining lead singer flicking his gaze between Luke and the empty place where you had been.

“Because that was the first time, she talked to me. A sunset behind her brightening the pretty curve of her smile.” Luke sighed scrambling when the front step light at his house turned on. Each boy running for the safety from the Patterson windows.

“I like the name! I didn’t like the violence in the other name!” Alex shouted, rushing towards his bicycle to head back home. 

That was also the last time Luke saw you until 1993 at that concert as you moved to the medium-sized mansion by then.

Luke grinned at the memory of how he actually spoke to the girl of his dreams before everything went full to shit. Reggie’s parents started fighting, Bobby grew more into girls than music, Alex told his parents he was gay. Luke finally sat down with his parents telling him that he wouldn’t go to college and didn’t want to finish high school. He did finish high school to appease his parents even after running away.

“Luke?” The breathless question brought the guitarist back to the present time and to the blue eyes of his father. The shock on the man’s face preceding the tears building up, “Son.”

“Hon?” Luke’s knees collapsed as he heard the soft voice that had read him stories and sung lullabies when he was a child. Emily gasped as she saw the one person she had wished to find for so long, “Luke.”

“Mom.” Luke choked, raising his hands to press them to his face, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t-“

“Sh. Baby.” Emily wasted no time in scooping her son into her arms, so thankful nothing terrible had happened to him. She didn’t care where or what he had been doing as long as he in her arms again.

A hand clapped his shoulder to squeeze, announcing his father silently thanking whatever God there was for bringing his son home. That they didn’t have to worry blue and red lights would precede news no parent wanted to hear.

“Can I come in?” Luke asked tentatively. A soft hand brushing his hair away from his eyes for his parents to finally see the unique eye colour their son had inherited.

Emily ushered her son into the kitchen that hadn’t changed in the time Luke had been gone, the only difference being the Christmas decorations put away. They would reappear the last week of November; Emily wouldn’t have to struggle to put the ornaments on the tree without her son.

“I don’t know how to say what I want. Could I…could I sing please?” Luke murmured to his parents. It was a question he wasn’t sure he wanted to be answered. He hadn’t brought his guitar just in case it was the wrong move. His parents regretted buying him that guitar.

“Of course.” Mitch spoke, climbing to his height, “Just one moment.”

Luke watched his father leave the kitchen only to shortly return, holding a beautiful acoustic guitar. He had never seen it in his life either. He was confused when Mitch set the guitar into Luke’s lap.

“You’re like your mom. When she worries the only thing that can help calm her is knitting. I figured the guitar is your way of knitting.” Mitch calmly told his son choosing to not bright attention to tears in either of the Patterson men’s eyes.

Luke settled on the couch in the living room while Mitch and Emily took to their respective long known spots. Ones that faced the windows perfect for knitting and reading with natural light. Emily reached over to hold her husband’s hand while Luke started strumming.

First things first

We start the scene in reverse.

 All of the lines rehearsed.

 Disappeared from my mind

When things got loud

 One of us running out

 I should have turned around.

 But I had too much pride.

No time for goodbyes

 Didn’t get to apologize

 Pieces of a clock that lies broken

Not a dry eye in the Patterson home as Luke gave the best performance of his life. Performance didn’t build a bridge between him and his parents, why make a new bridge when the first one only needs repairs.

“Please record that.” Emily choked wiping her face of tears, “I want that on your first album, I loved it. I’m going to buy the first CD it’s on.”

Luke Patterson smiled a piece instead of healing at her words and the acceptance he had craved. Now he just had to propose again.

The cosy soft knit blanket Emily gave you at Christmas the first time you met Luke’s parents when it became clear that the relationship was serious. It was one that you cuddled into for a sense of comfort, eyes focused on the demo the song was waiting. Fingers itching to put in the CD player and listen to the finished product.

“Hey. Sweetheart you gotta stop blaming yourself.” Lance spoke coming to sit beside you on the piano bench. The bench you had learnt how to play directly across from the couch that you spent hours with him on learning the guitar.

“How can I? I asked for a ride, and you might never play again.” You scoffed, bringing your knees to your chest. Lance’s heart broke, hearing the guilt leaking from your words and the slump on your shoulders.

“I picked you up because I love you. You’re my daughter, my baby and I’m gonna tell you something that hope knocks some sense in that head.” Your Dad sternly spoke, taking your hand to place on his cast, “This? This doesn’t matter. If I hadn’t done this, you would be dead, and I wouldn’t be able to hold a guitar because you wouldn’t get to hear me play. I’d rather not be able to play and have my daughter alive.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks as your hero wiped your tears tugging you in his arms, “Besides I’m a Y/L/N, we don’t let other people tell us how to live.”

Lance leaned over to insert the CD into the machine before pressing play bringing a soft melody in the room. You snuggled into his side as his rich voice broke through into the most beautiful song you had ever heard. Unbeknownst to you, Luke stood in the doorway with his bandmates listening to the gorgeous record.

“I love it.” You whispered glancing over your shoulder, feeling the gaze of someone, and while you expected your mother, the sight was welcome. Not a dry eye in the room as the last chord rang with the joyful voice of a little girl; your voice from a family video.

“That’s beautiful.” Luke breathed grinning when you swiftly made your way into his open arms, “I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you like I should have been. I was hurt, and I didn’t want you to see that.”

“Was that the song that was playing- OW!” Reggie exclaimed rubbing the back of his head that Bobby had thumped. The bassist grimacing at the pain clueing that it wasn’t the greatest question he had said.

“Bittersweet was the song playing. This is the finished product.” Lance confirmed standing to his full height, “How about I let you see some unreleased songs?”

Lance ushered everyone but you and Luke from the room for privacy only winking before closing the door. Luke breathed out, leading you back to the couch with his hands squeezing your own.

“You were right,” Luke announced brushing the pad of his thumb under your eye to swipe an eyelash. His hazel eyes showing more of the green with the adoration gleaming from them, “It hurt being rejected but you were right about it. I hurt my parents by running out one them, especially my mom. I don’t want to hurt her more by excluding her from the biggest moment of my life.”

Your own hand raised to cup his cheek heart bursting when Luke turned his head to press a chaste kiss to the palm.

“You couldn’t guess how much it ached telling you no. I wanted to so badly, but your mom was always so good to me. I didn’t want her to miss out on anything.”

“She won’t miss out.” Luke replied, tugging you to your feet, “I went home, and we talked it through.”

Your feet cemented to the floor, “You went to see them?”

“I did. I was no sure Mom and Dad hated me for running away, for choosing music over them.”

“You didn’t choose music over them, Lu. You made a decision that they didn’t like, but you did what you were raised to do. They taught you to stand up for yourself, never second guess or quit.” You passionately told him, “They love you with their whole heart, they just didn’t understand how important music is to you at the time.”

“God, I love you so much. I would do anything for you.” Luke tugged you into his arms, bringing your attention to his different outfit choice.

He was wearing his best black jeans with no holes but still the chains, but his wallet wasn’t on display. His lucky blue rabbit’s foot was clipped to his necklace laying over the long sleeve purple corduroy shirt. The shirt he wore a lot when he wanted to be wanted to a little more dressed up.

“You’re wearing that shirt.” You stated glancing up to the boy, “And your lucky rabbit’s foot is not on your chains.”

Luke smirked, leading you through the house to the backyard where Luke had asked Nancy to be. Your mother sat at the piano with your father beside her, Nancy and Lance Y/L/N hadn’t sat at a piano together since you were tiny. Tears built up as Luke gently brought you into his arms entirely in time with the notes that Nancy began.

Heart beats fast

Colors and promises

How to be brave

 “Are you trying to make me cry?” You choked as he used the dance lessons he took with his mom twirling you around. As if you couldn’t cry more your gaze found Reggie strumming the acoustic guitar. Alex waiting at his drums with a grin at Luke and you.

I have died every day, waiting for you.

Darling, don’t be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years.

I’ll love you for a thousand more.

Everything faded as you two gazed into each other’s eyes, in his you swore you saw every moment with Luke play. The sweaty palms shy to hold each other to the first kiss, the second kiss, sharing the most vulnerable time at sixteen, his serenading at seventeen after signing with a label and everything between those precious moments.

Time stands still

Beauty in all she is

I will be brave

I will not let anything, take away.

What’s standing in front of me

Every breath, every hour has come to this.

Bobby made his presence known harmonizing with you mom so low you barely heard, but it was Luke singing that enthralled you. Everything about this moment you would remember for the rest of your life.

The music faded as Luke took a step back to kneel down in front of you with the ring he had yearned to give you. The ring his mother had held on to for the girl Luke would fall in love with. She had given it a few days previous so thoroughly happy she got the opportunity to pass it down.

“Luke.” You breathed cupping your hands, one still in a brace, over your shocked face. His expression softened into the most loving one you had ever receiving in the years you had been together.

“My life has been leading me to this very moment. I believe that I was guided into music because of this absolutely perfect moment. Surrounded by the people who cheered us on and gave wisdom. The people that gave us a look at what true love is supposed to be.” Luke began keeping his entire focus on the love his life, “I knew about you before you knew me. I was ten when I saw you during recess sitting up against the tree with your walkman. I fell for you at that moment, but it wasn’t until I hit Reggie with the car that I got to talk to you.”

You giggled as you remembered running to a group of guys after seeing one get hit. If only you knew who they were at that time.

“Our first real conversation was at a concert, and I fell in love at that moment, and I am so thankful you gave me a chance. There isn’t anyone else, sorry, Alex!” Luke teased over his shoulder, earning a chuckle in response, “There isn’t anyone I want to spend my life with. You are my muse, the person I share every lyric with, my love and my soulmate.”

“Luke.” You choked reaching up to cup his cheeks so close not a single sheet of paper would move between you.

“Will you marry me? In front of our parents and our friends?” Luke shakily questioned begging for his rabbit’s foot to work with it being close to his heart.

“Yes.” You answered, reaching up to pull his face down to yours. The most passionate kiss of your life he wrapped his arms around you waist lifting you in his arms; he twirled around with you.

This was his most significant moment ever. The Orpheum could never live up to this.

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[maplecornia]

chapter 18

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 3.43K

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst | bts x female!reader | ot7

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: why does tae look so precious in the banner ;-; i cri

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2024 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language

tags: @kookaine | @fangirl125reader | @kookiebbyxx | @taradevonne | @rae-bear |@mangminnie | @pixiekooo

Looking over to your hands so close to the other, Taehyung smiles before wrapping his fingers tighter around yours, intertwining them in an unbreakable bond.

The action sends your heart flying and you snap your gaze to him. He notices your sudden change in demeanor and tries to cover it up by turning to the window.

"What?" he murmurs, his ears tinted pink. "You looked cold."

You can feel your face heating up and you refuse to let him see. You aren't some little fangirl fawning over her idol, not right now. At this moment, you are the lucky person who gets to be so close to someone she admires.

Right now, you want to be the random stranger who bumped into him.

Right now, you want him to see you for you, and you to see him for him.

“I’m sorry, but we’re nearing our destination, do you want to come in to get it or should I just go instead, sir?” Minhyuk asks, breaking the silence and Taehyung shakes his head slightly.

“What have I said about calling me, sir? It’s like having my father call me, mister or even worse, hyung. Please just call me Taehyung, Minhyuk.” He corrects him, and Minhyuk gives him a slightly condescending look in the rearview mirror.

“If you would just pull up in front, I’m sure they’ll give it to you so we should be fine,” Taehyung responds, and Minhyuk nods as he directs the car into much more steady traffic, nearing a market area. You don't recognize it, and as you stare out the window you don't think you’re anywhere near the apartment complex where you're staying. Biting your bottom lip a bit in anxiety, you look at Taehyung again.

He’s staring at the window, like you were, smiling faintly at the familiar sights and people roaming the streets beside you. Each one is busy, each one has their priorities, their life. Neither is the same, everyone is different from the rest. Much like the snowflakes which fall every winter. He enjoys the uniqueness of every single person, how they act, what they do. He finds it fascinating how some people can be so alike and yet so different.

Perhaps that's why he enjoys photographs so much. He’s able to capture those moments within a small photo. That, to him, is one of the most beautiful things in the world.

At your soft tap on his shoulder, he breaks his gaze away from the beauty of life before him and turns to you. He raises his eyebrows a bit in surprise, his mouth doing the slight downturn that it has always done whenever he is confused or curious.

“What is it?” he asks, tilting his head a bit as you look at him, pulling your hand off his shoulder. A bit nervous that Minhyuk would be offended at your question, you glance at him to make sure that he’s not paying attention. Once you’re sure, you beckon Taehyung to lean down a bit so that you can whisper in his ear. He does, but only a mere fraction of an inch.

You roll your eyes, beckoning with more ferocity, and he goes another inch to try and hear you. Letting out an exasperated sigh, you drop your hand and give him a look. He chuckles a bit before smiling and whispering sorry. Then he leans down….another fragment of an inch!

Tired of his shenanigans, you reach out and pull on the neck of his shirt fiercely, pressing your lips tightly together. He gags a bit but laughs once he’s in your safe space. At your look, however, he cuts himself off and coughs to chase his chuckles away.

“Okay, okay, okay I’m sorry. Now, what did you want to say?” he apologizes as though fearing for his life, and you have to hide your smirk before asking the question.

“Is Minhyuk going the right way?” you ask, softly. So softly that you’re not even sure if he heard you. He’s not sure of it either, and crinkles his brow a bit in amusement, not sure if he heard you right.

“I’m sorry, I didn't quite catch that last bit.” Your face falls at his comment and pouting a bit, you poke his cheek. He mouths an Ow and you roll your eyes before tugging on his ear a tiny bit. He dutifully leans his ear towards you, ignoring the slight shiver that runs down his spine as your breath tickles his eardrums, your lips mere inches away from it. You take a breath before continuing and repeating your question.

“Does Minhyuk know where to go? That is, is he going the right way?” as soon as you whisper the question, you pull back. He wears a pondering expression for a moment before registering your question and understanding what you were trying to ask. As he does, his eyes light up in a little aha moment and his mouth opens slightly. It quickly grows into a soft chuckle as he shakes his head and nods, grinning broadly.

“Yes, he does. I texted him on the bus to bring me some food, so he’s just going to pick up what I ordered. I mainly got it for Jimin, but now that I’m late….” He responds and you nod, realization sparking in your chest as you stare a bit embarrassed at the car seat in front of you.

“Now that I think about it, though, I’m going to need your address.” He says absentmindedly and you turn to him. At your look, he glances at you out of the corner of his eye and smirks a bit, amused. “I mean, I promised you I’d take you home, right? How can I do that if I don’t know where you live?”

You open your mouth, wanting to say that it’s not where you live, it’s not your home, it’s just a place where you're staying right now.

But then you remember.

It is your home now. It has to be your home now. This is where you live, this is where your life will be. This is where you have to stay from now on. You don’t know when you’re going to go back home. You don’t know if you can even call that place home anymore. All you know is that this, right here, right now. This is home. You live here, in Seoul. You aren't visiting, you aren't a tourist. You have a job, you have an apartment, you have your responsibilities.

Then again, If that’s all true…

Then why is it so hard to forget what you thought you could leave behind?

The car shakes a bit as Minhyuk pulls to a stop, having reached his first destination. As he pulls up in front of the restaurant, despite what Taehyung advised, he unbuckles and declares that he’ll be right back.

If he expects anyone to hear, he is out of luck.

At one glance between you staring off into space, your hands absentmindedly playing with your string, and Taehyung waiting expectantly for an answer; Minhyuk slowly pulls himself out of the car, closing the door securely behind him.

“I know when I'm being a third wheel…” He grumbles under his breath as he darts through the rain to receive the food order Taehyung gave.

Beside you, Taehyung, growing impatient, waves his hand in front of your blank expression, and you blink awake from your reverie.

“I’m sorry, what did you need again?” you ask him, your wandering mind forgetting just what it was you were talking about to get on the topic of your homesickness. He opens his mouth to answer you after he gives you a strange look, but you jolt sitting up straight in your seat as you remember on your own.

“Oh! You needed my address right?” Tae nods slowly, smiling a bit perplexedly as you turn to your bag and pull your phone out. You need to get working on learning your address now that you are the only one living there; you're lucky that in your rush this morning you didn't forget your key to the apartment, but what can you say? You haven't been in this city for more than 24 hours, it's ridiculous to imagine that you have it memorized by now.

Making a small note in the back of your mind to accomplish that tiny task, you pull up the address you saved in your Google Maps, and turn to Taehyung, holding out your phone to him. He drops his hand from his face and takes it out of your hand. Shaking the strange incomplete feeling that erupts in his chest as he reads your address, he starts a bit.

“I know this place.” He murmurs and you turn to him, an intrigued look on your face. You peer over his shoulder as best as you can, trying to make sure you didn't pull up the wrong address. Once you see the name of it, however, you know that there’s no mistake.

“You do?” you venture, tapping his arm a bit to see the screen better. At the tap, he pulls back and watches as you peer at the screen, your face one of peculiarity. “When did you visit Jaejin?”

At the words, Taehyung snaps his fingers and pulls the phone closer to him, you pulling back out of surprise. He zooms in a bit on the apartment and smiles proudly before looking at you fiercely. You flinch, a bit confused, but he doesn't seem to care. His broad smile is all that can be seen and the brightness in his eyes nearly blinds you from their light.

“That’s right! This is Jaejin’s apartment isn't it?” you nod mutely, looking at him as though he had a screw loose, but he doesn't notice. He turns back to the screen and sighs with nostalgia.

“I remember now, he hosted one of RM’s birthday parties there! Besides the one that we celebrate together with ARMY, Jaejin wanted to do something special for him. He talked with BTS and got together every one of Namjoon hyung’s friends to attend it. It was a huge surprise, and he even managed to get some GOT7 members to attend. TXT was there as well. Jackson liked it, I remember.” His eyes getting that distant look eyes to tend to get when you talk about good times from the past, he smiles faintly as he turns to you.

At that moment, it’s as though he’s sharing that memory with you. You can hear the music, you can feel the joy and laughter, it’s almost as though you were there yourself. A soft feeling of love, friendship, trust, and loyalty fills your heart, and you feel the lump in your throat turn.

Those are feelings that you left behind, feelings you miss even now.

“It seems so long ago now.” His voice is soft, and in the back of his throat, there is a guttural sound as though he is struggling to keep down a rise of emotion.

After a moment, Taehyung clears his throat and raises his head, turning to you and returning your small smile. Just as he does, Minhyuk opens the door, setting two brown paper bags filled with food and beverages on the seat next to him.

Taehyung lets out a loud but clear sigh shaking himself a bit as though that will erase the loneliest sorrows.

“Ahh….if I’m being honest, I’m still trying to get used to the fact that you are his replacement now.” He remarks before tapping Minhyuk on the shoulder. Startled, you blink in shock, staring at him as he shows Minhyuk the address, and Minhyuk proceeds to save it.

How did he know you were going to be Namjoon’s assistant? How did he even know you were working at BigHit? You certainly didn't tell him, and you know you didn't run into him when you were at the building. You would have remembered that, just as you remembered the bumpy encounters with Jungkook and Namjoon.

So how? How did he know that?

It takes a moment but once he has everything situated in the front of the car, and secure, Minhyuk pulls out of the restaurant area and back into traffic. Taehyung leans back in his chair and hands you your phone. Catching sight of your face, he raises an eyebrow.

“Are you okay--” he begins, but as soon as you hear his voice, you turn on him, startling him to silence.

“How did you know I was replacing Jaejin?” At your question, Taehyung’s smile fades as though he had said something wrong. Something he hadn't meant to say. He licks his lips nervously, turning away and clearing his throat.

“Jimin told me.” It’s a simple answer, but a careful one and you wonder just what exactly he’s trying to hide. You don't think the answer is a lie, but it seems to you that he’s tiptoeing around something, trying to be extra careful with his next words.

He doesn't want you to know, not just yet.

“How did Jimin know?” you ask him dubiously.

How do BTS know who you are even before you've had a chance to meet them yourself? You knew that Jaejin had a pretty important job in BigHit and was involved, but he never told you it would be like this.

“He got it from Namjoon.” He explains. When he notices your opening your mouth to ask another question, he cuts you off by pressing his finger against your lips to shut you up.

“Hyung was going crazy all morning because you didn't show up on time, it's like he was afraid you fell off the face of the earth or something.” At the mention, you grow a bit sad and resigned. You feel terrible for doing that to Namjoon. Taehyung reaches forward, at the sight of your sadness, wrapping his hand around yours as a sign of comfort.

“Don't worry, though. I'm sure Joonie is alright now, he was just being a bit paranoid.” He reassures you, smiling softly in your direction and you sigh before nodding, not quite believing him but doing the best you can. Once Tae is sure you won’t fade into yourself again, he continues, reaching into his back pocket to fish for his phone.

“Anyway, Namjoon was getting worried. He sent out a picture of you so that we would be on the lookout for you in case we saw you come in or whatever. That way he would know when you arrived and could see you as soon as possible.” Taehyung continues, pulling up his messages and scrolling through until he finds Jimin’s name.

“This was the picture he gave us, and that’s how I know.” He turns the phone around to you. After a moment's hesitation, you peer closely at the screen.

It takes you a moment to register just what exactly the picture is, but once you do, your eyes widen and you give a slight start of surprise. Your cheeks already rising with the feverish heat of embarrassment, you reach for the phone to steal it from Taehyung. He pulls it away from you just in time and holds it out of your arms reach. You let out a muffled aggravated growl as you reach for it, practically almost climbing over Tae until your seatbelt locks up and you are forced back.

“Taehyung!” you cry out fumbling over his body as he continues to dart the phone out of arm's reach.

Curse your tiny arms.

“Give it to me! Let me delete that!!” he laughs at your protest, and if you weren't so mad, perhaps that laugh would have made you laugh too.

Jaejin will die when you see him next.

“No! I like the chipmunk version of you better.” Taehyung snorts, staring at the photo with adoration.

“See? The little chippie thinks she can fit that huge bite in her mouth.” He remarks as you give him the death stare. He turns back to you, the widest smile on his face, but the glittering playful malice clear in his eyes.

“She couldn't do it.” He says, pouting in mock pity. Narrowing your eyes, you lunge forward once more and he laughs, dodging your attack for the second time.

“For your information, that was in the midst of me fitting it! I was able to do it in the end!” you grunt as you stretch as far as you can to reach the phone that he holds high above his head.

It’s not fair! How come his arms get to be so long?

“Now….let…..me….delete it!” you growl through gritted teeth.

Taehyung shakes his head as he scoots farther away from underneath your grasp, and lets you fall on the bench face first. You stay there for a moment, your chin resting on the leather padding. Smirking, he flicks your forehead, and that's when you get up, lunging for the phone.

After a few more moments of this, it somehow ends up with you stretched across the bench, on your back, your head on his lap. He dangles the device above your face, incessantly teasing you as though you were a child. Once, he even touches it to the point of your nose and when you swipe for it, he pulls it away.

“It’s not fair.” You murmur, pouting as you cross your hands over your chest. He looks down at you, fondly, dropping his hand and the phone with it on the bench next to him.

Biting his bottom lip, he opens his mouth to say something, but Minhyuk interrupts by stopping the car abruptly. Taehyung glances up, and you bolt out of his lap at the motion, looking around to try and identify where you are.

As you peer out of the tinted windows and Minhyuk turns around in his seat to look at the pair of you, you realize.

You're home.

Tae peers out the window to see if it's still raining, as you begin to pull apart the makeshift compress on your ankle. Without Taehyung's help, you're going to need your shoe.

Tae requests Minhyuk to hand him your coat just as you lay the last wrapping on the bench next to you and pull on your wedge. It doesn't hurt when it’s around your ankle. To make sure, you test your strength, leaning on your foot with as much weight as your able. The pressure you put on it is still painful, but bearable enough to walk to your apartment room. Zipping up your wedge, you turn to Taehyung and find him looking at you with concern.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, and you shake your head.

“No, you did a great job.” You reply, and he smiles to himself before situating your coat, opening it so you would be able to easily put it around your shoulders. Taking a deep unsteady breath and licking your lips a bit, you let out a small sigh.

“Thank you.” You say in hushed tones, and he pauses from what he’s doing to look at you in surprise. You hesitate before continuing, receiving the coat from his open arms and sliding it on around your shoulders. “I never thanked you for helping me before. So thank you, I don't know what I would have done if you weren't there to help me out.”

At his silence, you secure your coat around your body and pull your satchel off of the floor, hauling it on your shoulder before you leave. You wait a moment for him to say something if he will. When he doesn't, staring at you in a frozen shock, you chuckle to yourself before opening the door and letting in the once muffled noise of the storm.

“Goodbye, Kim Taehyung.” You say to him, smiling kindly over your shoulder, something to which he responds with a hard swallow as though preparing himself to speak, but you don't see that. You have already turned and have stepped your good foot out of the door before he stops you, calling you back.

“Wait!” he calls, and you turn around, leaving one foot outside, and angling yourself using your other foot as an axis. Slowly, he reaches out and takes your hand within his own, pulling it up to his lips and pressing a soft kiss along your knuckles. You suck in a sharp breath as he does, your heart aching.

“You’re welcome.” He whispers as he lowers your hand and pulls away. “I won't forget today.”

And neither will I.

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: we coming to the end of the rainy day pretty soon

chapter 19 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

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[some-kindofgnome]

august slipped away

i. ii.

Otherwise known as the Thanksgiving fic.

characters: mirio x f!reader

wc: 2.6k

warnings: smut (18+ please!), quirkless AU, angst, Thanksgiving long-distance woes, mirio’s very ugly little subaru

notes: Happy Birthday @drapetomaniac​! I’m so glad I was able to get this finished on time. I’m so grateful to have met you on this lil site, so consider this my birthday gift to you! 💖  This serves as a part ii to my Kinktober fic “with autumn closing in.” It got ANGSTY. I hope you love it.

on the prompt: “It’s November – the month of crimson sunsets, parting birds, deep, sad hymns of the sea, passionate wind-songs in the pines.” This beautiful line was written by Lucy Maud Montgomery, a wonderful Canadian writer, in her novel Anne of the Island, published in 1915.

MASTERLIST

Mini Prompt Event!

It’s November – the month of crimson sunsets, parting birds, deep, sad hymns of the sea, passionate wind-songs in the pines.

Despite the traffic, the drive into your hometown’s been remarkably quiet. You’ve hitched a ride with a friend, and with Starbucks in your cupholders and weeks worth of laundry piled into her trunk, you ride back in near-silence.

She knows what’s on your mind as she pulls off the exit, the all-too-familiar sign that marks your hometown sending a rush of anxiety straight to your gut.

You’re not looking forward to this weekend as much as you should be. You miss your family- your parents, your dog, your bedroom- but there’s another gaping question mark that fills the rest of the weekend, too harrowing to ignore.

Mirio.

After a very tearful goodbye at the end of the summer, things were good between you. You texted all the time and called him whenever you could. You even wrote letters back and forth in the first month of the semester. Mirio’s were never decked out in stickers or lavish penmanship like yours were, but they teared you up all the same.

But college is difficult. And you’re both starting this year, so it’s been a lot for both of you to adjust to. You and Mirio always kind of sailed through high school without too much extra studying, so the amount of work it takes to do well in college has been a massive wake-up call.

It’s putting a strain on your relationship with him. Slowly, at first.

You were too busy with papers and assignments to call during the week, but he was too busy with practices and games and training to call on the weekends. The letters dwindled in frequency and then ceased altogether. Now you’ll go days without hearing from each other at all.

There’s never been a doubt in your mind that long-distance was going to be difficult. But you’re pretty sure it’s not supposed to feel like this.

Your friend drops you off in the driveway and squeezes your tight shoulder. She promises you that it’s going to work out, one way or the other. Then she pulls away to continue to her own city and you climb up the front steps with two garbage bags of laundry in your hands.

You’re attacked by your ecstatic dog at the door, and your mother doesn’t follow far behind. The house is already fragrant with the spiced aroma of baking pumpkin pies, and your mother cries as she hugs you tightly. So do you.

A few minutes later, with your first load of laundry spinning away, you flop onto the couch. To your delight, there’s a text from Mirio. You’re kind of hoping to see him tonight, but you’re not sure what time he was planning on getting into town. Still, a text from him seems promising.

Home yet? It reads.

You’re trying not to let it show that you’re brimming with happiness.

Just got in, you text breezily, curling your knees to your chest with a little smile tugging at your lips. It feels so good to talk to him again here, knowing you’ve got nothing but time to spend with him this weekend.

You text back and forth a little bit, soft little messages about how good it feels to be home and how glad you are that he got home safe. The last message you type out feels indulgent but so good, and you send it with every expectation of an immediate response.

Wanna come over?

Read 7:12 pm

Dull silence persists from your phone. One hour goes by. Two hours. The temptation to send him another message is overwhelming. You’ve been well past the point of avoiding double texts for as long as you can remember.

But this feels… different. Like you shouldn’t bother him. Like, somehow, that’ll only make the silence worse.

So you don’t. Fair enough.

The next day, you’re up to your elbows helping your family get ready for dinner. Your mom has an unfortunate habit of pulling out the stops, but the meal turns out fantastic. Dealing with your extended family is as draining as always, but you’re texting Mirio every so often under the table and he seems happy enough to respond.

You think about bringing up his sudden disappearance last night, but figure he’d been preoccupied with his family. Tonight, his texts are in good spirits.

It’s not until you’re curled up in bed with a belly full of turkey that you try again.

Wanna do something tomorrow? I have brunch in the morning, but I could meet you after.

Read 10:36 pm

Nothing.

Fool me once, you don’t want to let yourself think. But Mirio’s pretty good at putting his phone down when it’s time for bed, so you tell yourself he’s just gone to sleep. He’s gone to sleep and in the morning you’re going to wake up to a sweet little text from him with fresh plans from the afternoon.

Unfortunately, the trend continues. You catch and hold his attention for a few messages a time every day, but every time you mention meeting up in person, you get radio silence. It’s gotten to the point where you know it’s on purpose, and yet every time you fail to confront him, your embarrassment deepens.

Mirio doesn’t play games with you. It feels wrong, to have him jerking your heart around like this. But you give him the benefit of the doubt all weekend.

Finally, it’s Sunday. Your washed, folded laundry is packed neatly in the hallway. You’re finishing up dinner and your family knows, at this point, to keep quiet about Mirio.

You’ve given up on seeing him entirely.

As your family cleans up, you try one more time. You know you shouldn’t. You have every expectation of being treated the same way you have all weekend- why should this time work out any differently?

But you do it anyway.

Hey… I know you might be busy with family stuff, but we’re both going back tomorrow so tonight’s kinda the last chance I can see you…

To your surprise, just a few minutes later, you get a reply,

Want me to pick you up?

Within half an hour, his familiar little Subaru is waiting for you in the dark. Your heart clenches tightly, watching him parked in the driveway. You haven’t seen him in months.

You’d expected a happier reunion.

Still, there’s a sort of lightness that tugs at your heart as you pick your way down the front steps. You tug open the passenger’s side door- the inside of the car is toasty from the rattling little heater that’s always smelled just a little bit burnt.

Mirio has a sad sort of tired smile on his lips, but you can see the relief in his gaze. You’ve almost forgotten what he looks like in real-time like this.

“Hi,” you gasp, almost shyly. You tug the door shut and he shifts the car into gear. You can’t help the little clench of anticipation you get when he puts a hand on the back of your seat to glance over his shoulder.

When he looks back at you, he looks a little brighter.

“Wanna get some coffee?”

He takes you through the Starbucks drive-thru and buys you both iced coffees. The ice rattles cold and sweet inside the cups as he drives you out of town, taking you up the winding road to the point. Neither of you says a thing. You haven’t planned a thing, but you don’t need to.

As you draw closer to the familiar little lookout, your stomach tightens.

Something feels very wrong about the way he’s treating you. By the time he pulls off the road and rolls along the battered gravel path, you’re almost in tears.

You should’ve seen this coming the first time he left you on read. Mirio’s never left you on read before.

“Well,” you mumble, your heart pounding in your throat. You know you’re going to regret this, but it’s killing you to sit in silence. You reach into the centre console and grab your coffee, shaking it weakly in front of him.

“At least you bought me a coffee before breaking up with me.”

Mirio reacts visibly in the dark next to you.

“What?” He looks over, dark eyes shining with betrayal. His blonde brow is firm and set, but there’s genuine surprise in his expression.

“Break up with you?” His voice is trembling. “W-why would I-“

Now you feel even stupider. The tears come, hot and fast and unrelenting. Your next words come in a pinched sob.

“Why wouldn’t you?” You’ve cried like this in front of him before, but this is the first time it’s ever seemed embarrassing.

“I tried to see you all weekend, all I wanted was to see you.” You’re sniffling wildly, and you knee open the glove box because you know he always keeps tissues there. “I missed you so much and-and you wouldn’t even talk to me.”

He whimpers your name, quiet as a prayer. He’s tearing up, too, gripping the steering wheel tightly with his face screwed up in pain.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks. “I was… I thought…”

He’s pausing like you’re going to interrupt him, but you don’t. He bows his head, continuing.

“I was afraid to see you,” he confesses, “because I thought you wanted to break up with me.”

The relief you expect doesn’t come. Instead, a deeper, sicker pain wraps itself around your heart.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you don’t talk to me anymore,” he ejects. “Not in the same way. I… I know you’re busy, and I know I’m busy, but… things just felt different. Ever since Homecoming, I-I just…”

Homecoming was the one weekend that Mirio had been to visit you since the summer. That was a reunion that felt as good as it was supposed to. You’ll never forget bounding out of your residence hall to find him there, leaning against the edge of his little car like it was a souped-up Harley Davidsen. You’ll never forget the way he laughed when you launched yourself into his arms.

But that was where the bliss had stopped.

Homecoming was a bad weekend for him to visit. You should have seen that coming. You were busy with your brand new friendships, hopping from party to party. And though you were both all smiles when he was climbing into his car again on Sunday night, you’d known he left feeling a little neglected.

“Mirio,” you sob, reaching for him. You pull his eyes to yours with a hand under his jaw- a little unshaven, scratchy- and his cheeks are wet with fresh tears of his own. “I missed you like hell. I love you. I mean that every single time I say it. And I-“

You hate this kind of thing with him. Neither of you takes conflict very well. And though there have always been fights, this is the largest reckoning you’ve ever had.

“I had so many plans for us this weekend,” you admit, and the hurt takes over. Because no matter how you resolve this, that’s time that you can never get back. “And now I have to go back tomorrow and so do you and this is all we’re gonna have.”

“I know,” he sniffles right back. His voice is weak. Trembling. You haven’t seen him like this since his dog died, right after you graduated high school. “God, I-I… I’m so sorry.”

He’s reaching for you now, winding his arms awkwardly over the centre console to pull you close. You have to lean way over but you do, burying your face into the chest of his jacket.

You both sob openly, for nobody but yourselves.

“I don’t want it to be like this,” you plead. “I don’t want to be fighting for things to feel right. I can’t take four more years of this, Mirio, I can’t.”

He’s stroking a palm down the back of your head now, burying his nose into your hair.

“It won’t be,” he promises. “I’m gonna try harder. I’m gonna- I promise.”

“It’s both of us,” you reply. Your voice drops as you start to, slowly, regain control. “It’s me too. I need to try harder, too. I don’t want it to end like this.”

You nose your way to the surface, peering up at him. You both look ridiculous, faces pinched and teary. But none of that matters when you’re leaning up and he’s leaning down and he’s kissing you, all soft and loving in that way that used to make you melt.

It still does.

You let it grow heated, let yourself grab him by the cheeks and pour all of the desperate longing you’ve been doing into this kiss. It becomes very clear to you that you’re not going to be getting out of this car a single woman. And relief spreads warm and gooey through your gut.

“I wanna,” you whisper, pulling back with your eyelashes fluttering. Mirio cups your cheeks and warmly swipes the last of your drying tears away. He leans in and nuzzles the chilled tip of your nose with his.

“You sure?”

You bite your lower lip and shoot him a quiet, sly little nod.

This time, when you climb into the backseat together, no blankets or pillows are waiting for you. But you don’t care. You let him splay you across the narrow back seat, hitching one knee up over the backrest and stretching the other one out alongside him.

It’s a good deal colder this time around. And you can’t wait to get to each other. Your clothes are barely shoved out of the way by the time he’s nudging his stiff tip against your folds. You’re pushing the long hem of his sweatshirt out of the way for him, and he looks down at you with such determined adoration that you wonder why you ever doubted his love in the first place.

He eases into you slow and gentle, just like the first time. Very unlike the second time, harried and rushed under the covers of your rickety dorm bed.

You drag his lips to yours while he bottoms out inside you, wrapping that free leg around his hips and keeping him buried tight.

He fucks you just like that, in deep, tiny little strokes that nudge the tenderest parts of your belly and send pleasure trickling right down your spine each time. He kisses every part of your skin that he can reach, whispering his devotion to you over and over and over again until his voice breaks. Until all he can do is grunt and sigh and shake above you as he pours his climax into you, bringing you to a quiet little peak beneath him.

You stay tangled for a long time, despite the cramps quickly developing in your forcibly angled limbs. He lays between your thighs, listening to your heartbeat as your lazy fingers drift through the sweat-damped strands of his golden hair.

“Hey,” he murmurs warmly, lifting his chin to find your eyes. “I wanna drive you back to school tomorrow, okay?”

“What?” You frown. “Mirio, that’s two hours in the opposite direction for you. Don’t-“

“Please,” he insists, and something in his tone makes you stop. He slides his hands up your sides. “I want to. I didn’t… I should’ve seen you more this weekend. Let me. Please?”

You give a breathy little laugh, laying your head back against the edge of the seat. Your heart throbs with that all-too-familiar warmth.

“My mom’ll be pissed,” you tease, and you feel him grin against your chest.

You’re going to be okay.

[fakescenarios-tohelpyousleep]

Control| Stefan Butler {Bandersnatch}

summary| stefan feels like he’s being controlled, you have to help him take that control back.

Entering through the front door of the house Stefan shares with his father, you have deja vu to the last however many months since Stefan's meeting with Tuckersoft. The house was quiet and still, Stefan's father already had left for work leaving the two of you alone.

     The only noises coming from his bed room was the clacking of Stefan's fingers on his keyboard and the scratching of his pencil on the notebook paper, as well as the soft turning back of forth of the pages of Bandersnatch which you read while laying, stomach first, on Stefan's bed. You didn't mind sitting in silence with Stefan day after day, it was better then not seeing him at all which is what would happen if you didn't join him in his room everyday. Everyday is always the same. You come to Stefan's late in the morning, mainly so you avoid his father, you bring him breakfast/lunch depending on the day, Stefan spends every waking hour programming and reading and re-reading the book. You don't mind, in fact, you like being there. And if we're being honest, you were scared to leave him alone. You're the only one who can get him to do anything outside of his game. Only you can get him to eat, only you can get him to calm down when the game crashes, only you can get him to take breaks and lye in bed with you and breath.

   For as long as you've known Stefan, he's always been an anxious and fidgety person. Weather that meant biting his nails or pulling on his earlobe, you always thought it was something he did subconsciously to ease anxiety, however as weeks continued to pass you began to notice him not doing these ticks anymore and found him folding his hands under his arms, as if to keep him from doing them.

   Right now was no different. The two of you sat in his father's car, parked on the curb just outside of your home. You had persuaded Stefan into driving you home as a means of getting him out of his desk chair. Asking for a ride was the easiest way to get Stefan away from the game, as if he didn't you'd be force to take public transportation. You were pulled from your thoughts and your humming of which ever Thompson Twins song was currently playing on the radio when you hear the shifting of Stefan in the drivers seat besides you. Your head was quick to snap to his director and spotted your boyfriend hunched over the  steering wheel, tensely with his hands once again tucked tightly under his arms. You watch him for a few seconds, unsure of what to even do. Soon Stefan's body relaxes and his hands fall back onto the steering wheel in front of him. "Stefan, what the hell is going on?" Stefan slightly turns his head in your general direction but like normal he keeps his eyes down, besides the few split seconds he glances up at you. "Nothing, I'm fine." He's quick to reply, not wanting to worry you. However, it was a little too late for that. "No you're not, Stefan! You're completely stressing out over this Bandersnatch game, you're not even letting yourself calm your anxiety." Stefan's eyes finally raise to meet yours in a state of confusion. "What are you even talking about?" "You're nail biting and you pulling your earlobes, you always use to do it subconsciously when your anxiety was going off but now it seems like your fighting yourself to not let you calm yourself down." Your voice was filled with concern, and he hear it, however he was having an internal battle over something. He wasn't subconsciously doing those things, they weren't his choice, he wasn't controlling it. Dropping his arms from the steering wheel and into his lap, Stefan turned his whole body towards you. "I am fighting it, Y/N. I'm not the one in fucking control anymore!" His voice raised, however you didn't react. Him raising his voice has been a normal occurrence recently. "What do you mean?" Stefan stayed silent. "You feel like someone is controlling you?" "I don't feel like it, someone is Y/N!" Stefan's hands quickly slam down, gripping ahold of the center console, his quick movement make you flinch slightly. "What are you being told to do now?" With a dry mouth, your voice cracks as you ask. "To hurt you, but I don't want to, I won't." Stefan grits threw his teeth, his body finally relaxing. "How is it controlling you, Stefan?" The phrasing of your sentence reminds him of Dr. Haynes and his father, but it's your tone of voice that keeps him from thinking you're the same. "Everything, from the type of cereal I eat in the morning to the music I listen to, to the way I react. They control everything." You quickly lean forward and turn off the radio, stopping the Thompson Twins from playing. "Well-" You pause for a few seconds before continuing. "What do you need me to do when it happens?" Stefan looks at you once again, in shock. He was expecting you to call him crazy and run as far away from him as possible, he should know better but he couldn't help but let the thought run threw him mind. "I- I don't know." His head now hung in disappointment. Stefan knew you just wanted to help him, hell he wished he could tell you how but he didn't know. His body quickly relaxed more when you leaned your body over the center console of the car wrapped your arms tightly around your boyfriend's shoulders. "Listen, whenever you feel like you're being controlled to do something bad, just call out for me, okay? I'll figure something out." Stefan nodded into your shoulder, agreeing to your terms.

    Clicking of the keyboard, pages turning back and forth in the book, Stefan's pencil on the paper. The same thing, just a different date. You're so lost in your own head and the book in front of you that you don't realize that all noises stopped, and you don't hear the sound of Stefan's fingers banging down on the wooden desk. It's not until your name rushes from his mouth that you finally look up from the book. The sight was terrifying to you. Stefan body was again tense and shaking, his fingers were the same way in an attempt to dig themselves into the wooden desk. "Y/N, it's fucking happening." You're besides him in seconds, one arm wrapped around his shoulders also as a way of letting him know you were with him. "What are they making you do, Stefan?" You pull him closer to your body as you're eyes stayed locked on his hands. Stefan doesn't verbally answer, however you can put two and two together when his hand begins moving towards his mouth, only for his other hand to take a hold of that one and slam it back down onto the desk. You lean forward, placing your hand ontop of both of his. "Stefan, listen to my voice, okay? I'm here, you are in control. I'm not gonna let anything bad happen to you." You can feel him fighting again your hands. In one swift motion you are in front of him sat up ontop of his desk, worried how he would react if you sat in his lap instead. Both of your hands moved to lace with Stefan's as you hold them tightly in your lap. You continue to talk to him, you stray away from using anything besides your normal voice in an attempt to not make Stefan feel like he's in therapy.  After a few more minutes, you finally feel Stefan's body still and relax, you drop his hands only for him to lean forward and wrap his arms around your torso, laying his head in your lap. He stayed like that, saying nothing as you move your hand into his head of curls as a means of calming him. No more than 5 minutes later Stefan is dead asleep in your lap.

    "Hello, Y/N" Stefan's father jumped as he turned from locking the door of the one room you nor Stefan have never been in, only to find you standing there. "Hi." You mumble back, before pressing on towards your boyfriend's bedroom. "Oh, Y/N?" his father called out from behind you, making you turn and face him. "Make sure Stefan gets a meal today, alright?" If he wasn't looking directly at you, you would have rolled your eyes at him. "Always do, Mr. Butler." You turn, roll your eyes and push your way into Stefan's bedroom. You stop as soon as you pass through his doorway. You watched as he fought to put the cup of tea back down onto his desk. You quickly drop your bag at the door way and run up behind Stefan wrapping your arms tightly around him from behind, forcing his arm down. "I'm not going to destroy my computer." Stefan stated, through his gritted teeth. You had told him to verbally say he wasn't going to do something, as a means of training his brain into controlling it himself. "You're not going to destroy the computer." Stefan's head came back to rest on your shoulder, or so you thought to rest before he began yelling out. "Who's doing this to me?" You let out a sign, you hated seeing Stefan this way, you hated that you just couldn't make it all stop. "Who's doing this to me?!" You wrap your arms tighter around your boyfriend, as of the moment, letting him know you were there was the only thing you could do. Both of your heads quickly snapped back to the computer screen when the screen suddenly went black and began making noises. White letters then began to show up one by one of the screen. "I am controlling you through Netflix." You and Stefan turn to one another in confusion before looking back at his screen and saying in unison, "What the fuck is Netflix?"

[buckleysjareau]

double vision wrapped in last night’s party clothes

"I have always been honest with you." When Eddie's voice cracks, Buck's composure almost cracks with it. "Why can't you just be honest with me?"

or

When Buck is let in on a long kept family secret, he doesn't know what to do. He almost ruins things with the one person that keeps him from feeling like he's floating away with no way to land, but it ultimately turns out okay with help of a little communication.

for @cirrius-akiyo

Read on AO3

TW; descriptions of anxiety, emetophobia to be safe, car accidents and death of a very minor original character

From the moment he woke up with a pounding headache and an arm wrapped around his waist, Buck knows he fucked up. It’s not an unfamiliar feeling, waking up hungover in someone else’s bed, not being able to remember a thing. The feeling of knowing he fucked up, it was nothing new. 

But that wasn’t him anymore. He doesn’t drink until he can’t remember anything except the sensual touch of whoever’s finger tips, not anymore. He doesn’t do one night stands anymore. That was all Buck 1.0. That wasn’t who Buck was anymore, so before even opening his eyes to see what kind of room he’s in and who he’s with, he feels enough shame to make him nauseous. 

Dread consumes him when his eyes flicker open to the all too familiar plaid blankets and the toned, tattooed arm around him. 

Eddie Diaz. Eddie fucking Diaz. Edmundo Diaz. His best friend. His partner. His entirely platonic other half. Oh, fuck. He truly did fuck up. Eddie didn’t do one night stands, ever, so maybe this was an entirely platonic and clothed cuddle. He doesn’t have to freak out just yet. 

Then his eyes fall on his boxers on the floor and—

What the fuck happened? 

He swallows down his need to vomit and winces slightly as he tries to lift Eddie’s arm off of him without waking him up. He can’t believe he’s sneaking out of his best friend’s house, a house that he’s never really felt like a guest in. The thought sends a shock of pain through his heart, realizing how truly bad he fucked up. 

As he quickly and quietly dresses, his phone buzzes on the floor loud enough to make Eddie stir. He cringes and grabs his phone as quick as possible, letting out a breath of relief when Eddie doesn’t wake. 

The second he catches sight of the multiple missed calls and texts notifications on his phone, he freezes as everything comes back to him. 

“Nothing I ever did was good enough… now I know why.”

Bile rises to his throat as everything rushes back to him and he books it out of Eddie’s house, barely making it to his car before he empties his stomach of all the alcohol and absolutely none of the shame. 

He’s in his car and on the road by the time he realizes it’s hard to catch his breath and tears are blurring the road ahead of him. 

Name five things you can see, he hears Eddie’s voice in his head. Eddie is one of the sources of his anxiety right now, but he’d helped the last time so Buck goes through it in his head as he pulls over.

Five things you can see. The red truck he’s parked behind. A woman walking her dog. House with pink shutters. Halloween decorations. The pool in someone’s backyard. 

Four things you can feel. His steering wheel vibrating under his hands.  The air from his vents. Sweat soaking his back. His head against the headrest.

Three things you can hear…

By the time he’s through with listing things, he can breathe normally and his vision is cleared enough to drive the rest of his way home. He’s not very religious, but he prays that no one is waiting for him when he enters his apartment.

His heart clenches when his phone buzzes with a text from Eddie and shuts his phone off before he can see what he had to say. 

“Buck? What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at Chimney’s with your parents?” 

Before Eddie can ask anymore questions, Buck shakes his head. “Do you have any alcohol?”

“You came here for a beer?” Eddie asked incredulously, eyebrows raised. 

“I was thinking something stronger.”

-

His head pounds as he makes his way into the station, a half hour before his shift, and he immediately wants to leave.  He knows Eddie is going to walk in any minute now, and Chimney, too. He doesn’t know if he can look at either of them right now. 

“You knew?” Buck spits out at Chimney, the betrayal he’s feeling so strong he steps back as if he was physically struck. 

“Buck—” 

“No… don’t…” 

“Have a good morning, Buck?” Bobby asks as Buck enters the loft. What does he know?

“Why?” He asks defensively, causing his captain to sit up a little straighter with his eyebrow raised. 

“You okay?” 

“There’s something I need to show you…”

“What is this? Who is this?”

“Evan…”

“Yeah, of course.” He tries to smile but he knows it’s a grimace. He’s usually okay at faking smiles and acting like everything is fine when it’s not, but now absolutely nothing is okay, he realizes. Everything that he found comfort in when things were falling apart has been tainted by this secret now.

Chimney had known something about Buck that he hadn’t known about himself and continued to look him in the eyes like he wasn’t keeping something huge. He feels nauseous all over again at the thought of seeing him today, and he’s not even mad, he’s just hurt. 

Eddie should be walking in right about now and Buck’s heart is in his throat when he hears footsteps coming up the stairs and he’s just not ready for the Eddie confrontation so he’s the tiniest bit relieved when it’s Chimney instead. 

“Oh, thank God you’re alive,” is not what he expects to come out of Chimney’s mouth but Buck’s heart clenches in a way that hurts.

“I told him because I was trying to protect you,” 

“That doesn’t make it any better!” 

Eddie just reaches the top step when Bobby starts the beginning of shift announcements and Buck thanks his lucky stars that there wasn’t time for a confrontation between announcements and chore assignments. 

He looks up for one second to meet Eddie’s eye before averting eye contact in less than a second. 

“Buckley, you’re with me on getting lunch started!” 

He’s relieved he’s not with Eddie or Chimney, but he has a feeling he knows why Bobby is assigning him to lunch duties, and that was so he could pry whatever out of him. He’d done it a few times, and normally Buck didn’t mind but this wasn’t something he wanted to even admit, let alone tell his Captain about it.

“Don’t you dare walk out that door!” His dad’s voice boomed around the apartment, reminding him of all of the times talks about his grades and his future turned into screaming matches. 

“Buck!” His head snaps up at the sound of Bobby’s voice.

“Yeah?”

Bobby gestures with his eyes at his hand that was currently covered in the tomato he didn’t realize he was squishing in his hands. 

“Oh.” 

Bobby clears his throat from behind Buck as he rinses off his hands. “Alright, what’s going with you? Where’s your head at? Is it the bomb threat call that’s got you so bothered?”

Buck shakes his head. “It’s nothing, Bobby.”

“It’s not nothing, Buck. Is it your parents?” Bobby knows he’s onto something when Buck tenses. “You don’t have to talk to me about it but you do have to let me know if you’re not in the headspace to—”

The alarm blares and Buck jumps into action before Bobby can even finish his sentence. He’s fine to go out on calls, he has to be, he cannot sit there at the station with the storm that’s raging in his head. He needs to do the one thing he can’t fuck up.

Bobby gives him a look as he gears up but he just gives him a thumbs up and hops into the truck.

Eddie is across from him, trying to meet his eye yet again but Buck continues to stare out the window. He knows he’s being a coward, he does, but his stomach drops whenever he thinks of meeting Eddie’s eyes, dreads seeing the ‘it was a mistake' eyes. He dreads seeing the inevitable. 

“What do you want, Buck?” Eddie pants above him, eyes dark and searching.

“Make me forget.” He sounds desperate and he is, he’s desperate to forget and he’s desperate for Eddie. 

“Make you forget what?” 

“Just make me forget, please, Eddie. Please.”

“Will you look at me?” Eddie’s voice filters in through the headset. 

Buck takes a deep breath in and releases it before he looks to Eddie. Brown eyes meet his blue and Buck immediately sees the frustration in the way his eyebrows scrunch, but he can also see the fear and he did this.

“Are we okay?” 

The grimace returns. “Of course, Eds, why wouldn’t we be?”

“You left before–”

“Buck… please don’t leave. We can talk about this.”

“You didn’t talk about it for twenty-nine years, why do we have to talk about it now?”

“Buck, let’s go!” Hen shouts as she shuts the door and Buck really needs to get in the right head space because if Bobby benches him now, after quite literally everything in his life is falling apart, he might not be able to recover from this.

His heart is beating erratically as he uses the K-12 to get the door off of the T-boned car, Eddie by his side with the Jaws. The girl in the driver’s seat, probably not even eighteen yet,  is hysterical and Eddie tries to calm her down but the door won’t budge with just the Jaws. 

Her screams get louder the second the door is pulled off and when a name tears through her gut wrenching sobs, Buck notices Hen about three feet away giving CPR to a middle aged woman. 

“Julia!” 

“Ma’am, I need you to stay still for me while I get this on you,” Eddie’s controlled tone echoes through Buck’s ears.

“Please don’t let her die, please, this is my fault!” 

Buck swallows the lump in his throat before he focuses his full attention on the girl. “Miss, listen to me,” he tries so she won’t turn her head to him. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Samantha.” She chokes out but it seems like she’s calming down enough for Eddie to put the C-Collar on while Chimney keeps her head stabilized. “Please, you have to save her, she–”

She starts shaking her head again, as best as she can between Chimney’s hands and Buck is so worried she’s going to cause more possible damage to her spine so he blurts out the first thing he can think of to keep her calm. “Tell me about Julia.”

“What? You have to save her.”

Buck sighs. “We’ve got the best paramedic in the LAFD working on her right now, okay? Can you tell me about her?”

Samantha sniffles. “I- I don’t know anything about her. She’s my b-birth-” she chokes on a sob. 

“She’s my birth mother.”

“Maddie… who is this?”

“It’s you… with your birth mother.”

Of fucking course. 

His heart stutters a beat before his eyes glance up at Chimney in the back and meets his eye before focusing his attention back on Samantha who’s still talking. 

“...and I was just giving her a ride home. I thought that was the nice thing to do and now she’s dead. She gave me life and I killed her!”

“Hey, no, you didn’t kill her. This isn’t your fault.” Buck promises vehemently, because he can. The accident wasn’t her fault, it was the drunk driver who had T-boned them and tried to flee the scene. 

“I… I found the records when I was cleaning out the garage during quarantine. My parents don’t even know I was meeting with her and I should have listened to them because she’s-she’s-”

“It’s okay, Samantha. We’re getting you out of here now.” Buck keeps his tone calm and controlled even though his emotions are tearing him apart from the inside out. 

They get her on the ambulance when Bobby calls it on Julia. Hen falls back to sit on her haunches and defeatedly sighs, wiping the sweat away from her head.

-

Buck feels numb. 

The ride back to the station is one big blur and before he knows it, he’s out of his gear and walking to the locker room when he’s stopped.

By Chimney.

“Buck, can we please talk?” 

Buck clenches his fists and takes in a deep breath before shaking his head. “No.”

“Buck, c’mon–”

“I can’t right now, man. I said no.” He starts off weak, his voice catching, but ends strong. Putting his foot down. 

He lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding when he hears Chimney walking away. He grabs his work out clothes from his locker and slams the locker door shut, too many emotions coursing through him that needed to be let out somehow. 

The punches to the bag start slow, controlled, but soon, the hurt takes over. The anger takes over. 

A particularly hard swing echoes through the station, following the growl that rips loose from his throat. Buck pays no attention to the footsteps sounding from the staircase behind him.

He gives a quick glance at Eddie as he plants himself against the wall to the side of Buck but leaves it at that and continues to swing. 

“You wanna tell me what the hell is going on with you, Buck?” Eddie’s voice is tinged with concern, frustration, and desperation and Buck doesn’t know what to do with that. He doesn’t know what to say, how to get the words out. Like Dr. Copeland pointed out, he hides his true feelings from people and he thinks nothing’s ever been more true. 

“Nothing’s going on, Eddie.” 

Eddie huffs. “Right. You promised me we’d talk last night and then when I woke up, you were gone.”

“Eds, please, hurry up. Make me-”

“Forget, yeah, I got you, Buck. Just… promise me we’ll talk after?”

“I had plans with Chimney.” He huffs out the lie.

“Really? That’s funny, because Chimney says he hasn’t seen you since last night.” Eddie’s voice raises just a little but it’s enough to make Buck freeze. He blinks, takes off the gloves, and turns to leave. How hypocritical he is, talking about how everyone always leaves, when here he is, literally running away from every little problem.

He makes it to the locker room before he realizes Eddie followed him.

“If you think it was a mistake then please just tell me instead of lying to me and shutting me out.” 

The hurt in Eddie’s voice is so strong Buck completely freezes. When he goes to take in a deep breath, it gets caught in his throat and he can’t bring himself to move or try again. 

“I have always been honest with you.” When Eddie’s voice cracks, Buck’s composure almost cracks with it. “Why can’t you just be honest with me?”

The tears Buck tried to keep in started to fall and he should really breathe, he’s getting dizzy, he should breathe but he’s scared of the sound that’s going to come when he tries. 

“Buck.”

The sob erupts from the back of his throat before he can stop it and the force of it has him gasping for a breath he can’t quite catch. 

“Shit, Buck?” He hears before Eddie’s in front of him. “Hey, man, it’s okay. It’s okay. Just, talk to me, Buck.”

Another breath gets caught in his throat and the only thing Buck can think to do is bring his shaking hand up to his chest as if he could rub away the agony. 

Eddie goes to catch him before he even realizes he’s keeling over, his hand still trying to clutch at his chest, and Buck can only imagine how scary this must seem to Eddie. He tries to calm himself down for the sake of Eddie but breaths just keep getting stuck. 

“Is this another panic attack or is something else going on, Buck? Do I need to call Hen and Chimney down here? 9-1-1?” He can tell Eddie’s trying not to panic for the sake of not freaking Buck out even more.

“Don’t g-g-get Chimney,” He stutters out, he can barely get the words out of his mouth. “I- I don’t need med-medic-medical attention.”

Once Eddie believes that Buck is just overwhelmed, he jumps right into the only grounding exercise that ever seems to work for Buck and once he can feel something other than the mind-numbing pain that came along with the secret, he turns to apologize.

“You don’t have to apologize for that, you already know this.” Eddie reassures.

Buck shakes his head. “No… I’m sorry for leaving. I just, Eddie, I- I love you, and I felt like I’d just messed up the only place I’d felt at home in. Everything came rushing back and- and I couldn’t face it when I was being forced to face everything else. I’m sorry.”

Eddie smiled as Buck admitted he loved him, cheeks tinged pink, but listened intently to the rest.

“Hey, you didn’t mess up anything. I love you, too, Buck. So much. You’re always going to have a place in our home, last night didn’t change that. I actually kind of thought it solidified that, but I guess I didn’t do too great of a job showing you just how much you belong there.”

The knowledge that Eddie loves him back both thrills and scares him. 

“Eddie. I-I, you have to know, I’m not ready for anything ri-right now. I love you, shit, I love you so much. I’m just a mess right now and I don’t even know who I am, not anymore, not ever and I feel like I’m just floating with no way to land and I can’t… put that on you. I can’t- I mean, before I came to you last night…”

“Hey, it’s okay, we can talk through everything later. I’ve still got your back, ready or not.” He sees Eddie hesitate and the nausea comes back. Please don’t take it back. “Can you tell me why you came to me in the first place?”

It’s tense, quiet for a minute, as Buck decides to tell his best friend, his person, the secret that came into his life like a bomb to blow up everything he thought he knew about himself and his life.

“They told me I was adopted.” 

It’s so quiet in there, he could practically hear the crickets chirp. Though, he’s pretty sure that might be his heart.

“I, wow, Buck.” He clears his throat. “I don’t even know what to say. What can I do? To help, I mean.”

Buck, ever the one to deflect, smirks sadly at Eddie’s wording. “There he is.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve been too good with your words, I was starting to think alien possession made its way into our 2020.” He snorts. 

Eddie feigns offense. “Man, you know when it comes to you, I’ve almost always been good with words. You, on the other hand?” 

“Hey now,” Buck tries to fight back the first real smile since his parents had gotten into town, but gives up fighting it. “To answer your question, you’ve already done the only thing that can help me now.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“You stayed.”

[songtoyou]

Epiphany - Part Four

Paring: Luke Crain x Female Reader

Chapter Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 3,080

Warnings: Talks of drug use and recovery. Swearing and self-doubt.

Description: Life has never been easy for Luke Crain. After the death of Nell, Luke realizes that he needs to make some changes. He decided to stay in Massachusetts and attend rehab. He was determined to remain on his path of sobriety. When you get assigned to be Luke’s sponsor, it opens a new door of possibilities that neither you nor Luke expected.  

A/N: I am sorry that it has taken me so long to write and upload this chapter. I have not been feeling so good since I posted that last chapter. Lots of anxiety keeping me from doing things such as write. Anyway, here is the new chapter. I wanted to write about Aunt Janet. I felt that the show didn’t really tell us much about her except that she took care of the kids after the events of Hill House in 1992. 

Note: Italics represent the past or past conversations.

Feedback is wonderful. It is nice knowing if people are actually liking this fic.

I do not permit my work to be posted on any other site without my permission.

Tag list: @morningstar09

~Aunt Janet’s House – 2002 ~

“Luke! Hurry up, or you’re going to be late for school!” Aunt Janet yelled up the stairs.

“Luke! Come on!” exclaimed Nellie. “I’ll go check on him.”

“Thanks, sweetie,” said Janet. Her youngest nephew often worried her, especially since it was the tenth anniversary of Olivia’s death this past summer. Janet started to notice that Luke became more recluse and stayed up in his room. The only person Luke would interact with was Nell, which was not surprising to Janet. The twins only managed to become closer as they got older.

What really began to cause Janet to worry was catching Luke steal money from her purse. She asked him what he was doing and why he was stealing. However, Luke could come up with a pretty decent lie about needing money to buy flowers for Olivia’s grave.

In truth, it was to buy beer. Luke had taken a liking to the barley and hops beverage. It helped him feel numb and not worry about anything. Unfortunately, Luke had one too many beers last night and was paying for it. Nellie found him headfirst in the toilet regurgitating the contents of his late-night beer binge.

“Eww, gross. What is wrong with you?” asked Nellie. She pinched her nose as the stench of Luke’s puke was overwhelming.

“What does it look like! I’m sick! Tell Aunt Janet that I can’t go to school.”

“Luke, come on. You have missed too many days already. They’re going to hold you back another year if you miss any more school,” Nellie argued while searching through Luke’s drawers and closet for clothes.

Luke managed to get up from the bathroom floor when he felt it was safe. He rinsed out his mouth to relieve it from the after taste of throw-up.

“Come on! Get cleaned up and put these on,” ordered Nell and shoved Luke’s clothes in his arms.

Luke groaned and plopped down on his bed. “Nellie…I can’t go to school today. I’m too sick.”

“Well, your sickness is also making me sick, but I managed to get up and ready for school today. Now move it! I’ll keep bugging you if you don’t move. I’m not going to let you fall to the waste side. Do you hear me, Luke?”

“Fine! I’m getting dressed!” Luke yelled to get Nellie off of his back.

No matter what occurred between them, neither twin could ever hate the other. They were each other’s best friends and closest confidante. They had to be. Especially now that they were the last two left in Aunt Janet’s care. As soon as their eldest siblings turned eighteen, they hightailed it out of Janet’s house for college.

Luke slowly trudges down the stairs with his backpack slumped on his shoulders.

“Hey, there he is,” greeted Aunt Janet. “Would you like some breakfast, sweetie?”

“No! No breakfast,” Luke replied with his head on the table.

However, Nellie pushed a plate of dry toast in front of him and told him to at least nibble some bites. “Here’s some orange juice. Take slow sips. The last thing we need is you spewing junks in the toilet again,” whispered Nellie while Aunt Janet was in the kitchen. She would not out that her brother was hungover. That last thing Nell wanted was to cause any more trouble for Luke.

She knew why Luke did not want to go to school, and it had to do with, what else, their family. Some of the kids at school saw Luke as an easy target to bully and terrorize. The topic of their “messed-up” family was their go-to whenever they wanted to antagonize Luke. Nell often found herself a target for bullies but could stand up for herself a lot better than Luke.

With the anniversary of Olivia’s death, the bullies made it their mission to torment Luke about growing up without a mother or father. They would push him against the lockers, knocking his glasses off his face, and trip him in the hallways. It was too much to handle, and Luke was tired.

Leaning back in his chair, Luke re-read the words on the computer screen. His instructor loved the essay he turned in and advised him to expand upon it. Luke pushed aside his reservations about exploring his past traumas through writing. It was a better outlet for Luke to help cope and tackle past stressful life experiences.  Not only did Luke have support from his instructor and you, but his counselor at Banyan Treatment Center, Rob, also supported the idea of using expressive writing as a way to heal.

Luke could not deny that writing helped clear his head. Something he learned while being in rehab back in Los Angeles. It allowed him to face things from his past that he had pushed aside. However, Luke had some reservations about how much he should…open himself up when it comes to sorting out his past events. There were still things that Luke was not quite ready to face.  

Oh my God!" exclaimed Luke. "It has been a month and a half since we have seen that movie. It would be best if you got over the ending. It happened. There is nothing you can do about it."

"I can't, Luke. It was total bullshit!" you yelled back furiously.

Luke calmly said your name to get your attention. "Listen to me; we don't even know if Steve Rogers actually stayed back in time to be with Peggy. He may have…"

"Then where did he go? Huh? He just up and left his friends who he just got back. Steve and Peggy never even dated! They kissed, that is it. Yes, there was an attraction that each had for one another, but that was all it ever way…an attraction. They are a 'what could have been' type of couple—the movie completely throughout all of Steve's character development…right out the window. Whatever, I'm over it," you stated, throwing your hands up in defeat.

You and Luke were driving to his Aunt Janet's house for a visit. He mentioned to you about wanting to visit his aunt for some time but had not gotten around to it. You were surprised that he asked you to come along.

Luke mentioned that Shirley and Theo were too busy to come with him and did not want to go alone. You agreed on the condition that he drive since Aunt Janet lived an hour and a half away from Wilmington. Lately, your anxiety has been going up and down, so you were not comfortable being at the hands of the wheel, especially on the freeway. You did not understand why you had such anxiety these past few days. You chalked it up to being nervous about your final project at school. The assignment was to create a self-portrait. It should be simple enough, but of course, the art instructor wanted students to "think outside of the box" and not have it be a regular standard portrait of themselves.

Each draft you came up with was of you in some state of turmoil, whether it be you depicted on a gurney getting resuscitated from your heroin overdose or lying in a pool of your own vomit. You could not understand why this particular project was giving you such a hard time. You were three-years sober. You had a steady job and gone back to school. Your relationship with your parents was better than ever. So, why the thought of a self-portrait brought upon negative thoughts about oneself?

You mentioned your troubles to Luke, and he was very sympathetic. While he was now 206 days sober, there were times where he felt…like the achievement did not mean much.

"What do you mean by that?" you asked him while on the way to Aunt Janet's house.

"It's just…this isn't my first rodeo when it comes to recovery," Luke began to say. "There is always this little voice in the back of my head that…"

"That it is only temporary. I have that little voice too. I'm not too fond of that little voice. Three years sober, and there are times where I still feel like a total failure. I shouldn't, but…I can't help it," you revealed to Luke honestly.

"Thankfully, there is another little voice in the back of my head that gives tells me that I'm doing a good job now and then. It's just that positive little voice has been a tad quiet lately," you added.

Luke could pick up on the little defeatist tone in your voice, and he did not like it. You immediately felt his worry about you. "Hey," you said to get his attention and placed a hand on his arm. "Don't worry about me, okay. I'm fine. I have my fears like every recovering addict. It is nice to talk to someone about it, particularly someone who understands, you know. That helps."

Silence soon filled the car, but it was not awkward. You never had awkward or uncomfortable silences with Luke. For some reason, Luke was one of the few comforting presences in your life. Regardless of all of the hardships he has gone through in his life, he offered a sense of hopefulness. With his 6'3 stature, Luke really came off more like a gentle giant. It was like he did not view himself as this grown tall man, but probably still felt like that little kid hiding under the bed from the "Tall Man" at Hill House.

"Luke," you said to get his attention. "Are you happy?"

"No," he replied immediately, then clarified when he saw the look you gave him. "I mean, am I happy that I am over 200 days clean, then yes I am, very much so. But…I don't know, there is a small part of me that is scared to be happy…to be content in fear of something going wrong."

When Luke pulled the car into Aunt Janet's driveway, the older woman immediately came out of the house to greet her youngest nephew.

"There he is, my little boy," she said and wrapped her arms around Luke, which he reciprocated.

"Hi Aunt Janet, how are you?"

"I'm fine, darling. How have you been?" Aunt Janet asked, pulling away to get a good look at Luke. He looked much better than he did at Nell's funeral.

"Good. I'm doing good. Everyone is doing…fine," Luke replied, then turned towards you. He introduced you as his friend and not his sponsor to his Aunt, which kind of surprised you.

"So nice to meet you," said Aunt Janet taking your hand. She motioned for you both to follow her into the house. "I hope you both are hungry. I made an array of sandwiches and salads for lunch. Luke, I also made your favorite…chocolate pecan pie bars."

"Thank the Lord because he was hoping you would make them on the car ride here. It was all he talked about?" you teased.

"Once you have one, then you will know what I am talking about," Luke responded with a smile.

Aunt Janet lead you both into the kitchen.

"Can I use the bathroom to freshen up?" you asked her.

"Oh yes, dear. It is down that hallway, the first door to the right," told Aunt Janet as she showed you where to go. "Luke, you should probably wash your hands first," she added.

"Yes, Aunt Janet," he said and went to the sink to wash his hands.

When you were no longer in earshot, Aunt Janet stood beside her nephew and said, "Your friend seems really sweet."

Luke could not hold back his smile, "Yeah, she is genuinely nice. She's fun to hang out with. We have a lot of the same interests. Shirley and Theo have met her as well," he mentioned and shared that both of his sisters really liked you.

Aunt Janet turned her head to see if you came if you were around the corner. When you were not, she leaned over to Luke and said, "Very pretty too. She'd make a lovely…"

"Aunt Janet, she is just a friend. I can't date her anyway. She's…they say you shouldn't date anyone while still in recovery."

"I'm so proud of you," Aunt Janet said as she placed the food on the kitchen table. "You are becoming the man I always knew you could be."

Luke would be lying to himself if he denied that there was some form of attraction that he had for you, both physically and emotionally. He knew that the feelings that he was slowly developing towards you could be considered wrong. You were his sponsor…a dedicated one at that too. It would not be right for him to act on any attraction he may have for you—no doubt, that you would not reciprocate them, which would be disappointing to Luke.

"Better to just suffer in silence," Luke thought to himself.

"Don't you want a girlfriend? A family of your own someday?" asked Aunt Janet.

"Yeah…maybe. Someday. I'm just learning to take care of myself without drugs in my system. There is no way I can be a dedicated father or husband to anyone… at least not right now. I am still a work in progress," Luke admitted to his aunt. "I do like…" But Luke stopped when he heard your footsteps approaching.

"Oh, my goodness. The pictures on the wall… I'm assuming the little kid with glasses is you, Luke."

The three of you sat around the kitchen table with your plates stacked with delicious food.

"Luke was the absolute cutest kid. He had a little lisp as well," Aunt Janet shared. "I have more pictures of the kids if you would like to see them?"

"Yes," you replied ecstatically.

"No," Luke disputed, "We are in the middle of eating."

"We can multitask. Let's see those pictures," you asserted gleefully while Aunt Janet got up from the table.

With a belly full of food, the three you were now sitting outside on the patio, drinking tea, and eating Aunt Janet's yummy chocolate pecan pie bars. You already looked through three photo albums that showed Luke and his siblings' younger years.

"I wanted to take as many pictures as I could of the kids. They hated it, but I told 'em they would appreciate it when they got older," expressed Aunt Janet. "Here's a picture of Nell on her wedding day. That's her husband, Arthur. Sadly, he passed away a couple of months after they got married. But…they are together now."

You looked at the photo of the young couple. Nell looked very much like her older sisters and her mother. You could tell that there was a kindness about Nell just by looking at the picture. She was the type of person to go above and beyond for her family and even strangers. Luke would say that Nell was just that type of person to care about everyone, no matter who they were or where they came from.

Luke did share with you that one of his biggest regrets was not going to Nell's wedding. He said that he tried, but Shirley told him to leave. Luke said that it was for the best and that he was in no right state of mind to support his twin the way she deserved on her wedding day.

Thankfully for Luke, Nell understood and held no hard feelings. She never did when it came to her other half.

Aunt Janet began to sniffle, and when you looked up from the photo, you saw the older woman dab her eyes with a napkin. Out of instinct, Luke grabbed his Aunt's tiny hand and squeezed it with his as a way to show support. Just as he was Aunt Janet's little boy, Nell was her little girl. She was the one to raise them, take care of them, and guide them into adulthood.

None of the Crain children were perfect; they were far beyond that notion. However, there is no denying that if they did not have Aunt Janet take care of them and love them, they could have been worse off. Luke had the overwhelming feeling of guilt encompassing him at the moment as Aunt Janet tried to hold back her tears.

You instantly looked up at Luke. You could feel his sense of guilt towards the way he treated his aunt while growing up. He looked over at you. It was a silent conversation you both were having between one another. You mouthed, "Do you want me to go?" so he could have this moment alone.

With a shake of his head, 'No,' Luke spoke up to get his aunt's attention. "Aunt Janet…I'm sorry. I'm sorry for…for all the Hell I put you through while living here. You did so much for Nell and me, and the others that I…shit all over it. I stole and lied to you like it was my job. You deserved better. I just want you to know that…me getting hooked on drugs…well…that was…no matter what had happened…it was my choice to go down that path of destruction. I love you, Aunt Janet, and I am so appreciative of the sacrifices you made for my siblings and me. I wish that I weren't such a fuck up…"

"Oh sweetheart, no, you are not a…fuck up," Aunt Janet interjected and continued, "Not at all. I love you so much that…I would do anything for you, you know that, right? Your childhood is in the past. It happened. It is a part of you. The fact that you are continuing to remain clean after all that has occurred…well, that is something you should be most proud of. It shows that you are dedicated to your sobriety and turning your life around. No one said this process was easy, but you stayed the course and continued to make good decisions. As I told you earlier, you are becoming the man I always knew you could be."

"Now, I'm going to cry," Luke giggled as he dabbed his eyes with a napkin. "I didn't mean to turn this into a sob fest, but I wanted you to know that I'm sorry for what I put you through and that I love you very much, Aunt Janet."

Aunt Janet emerged from her seat to wrap her arms around her nephew and kiss the top of his head. It was a sweet moment to witness.