#technically when i finished it it wasn’t his birthday anymore but a day after

[starryskiesahead]

he’s in full bloom!

i love him with all my heart <3 happy birthday coffee jelly boy

[sixhours]

i know you by heart - chapter 6

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Prospect, Joel Miller x Ezra, Joel & Ellie, Ezra & Cee, Joel is bad at feelings and relationships, Ellie is a little shit (affectionate), mostly follows canon after season 1, SMUT, gay sex, bisexual!Joel, period-typical homophobia, alcoholism behavior, light angst, angst with a happy ending, romance, age gap (~10ish years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

Chapter notes: Look ma, no smut! Sorry, things are still rough for a l'il bit. Shit's getting plottier. CW for some alcoholic-like behavior, so y'know, take care of yourself.

(Also, I recognize that technically Sarah died the day after Joel's birthday, but in my head, it's all one big, awful day for him.)

“Are you mad at me?”

Her voice is so small when she asks the question, seated at the kitchen table across from him as he changes the dressing on her burn. She’d stubbornly refused his help at first, but applying the gauze and tape one-handed was trickier than it looked, and she eventually caved, trudging downstairs to sit at the kitchen table while he goes over the burn care instructions from the clinic.

“Damn right I am,” he growls, narrowing his eyes as he dabs salve on the gauze to prevent it from sticking to the damaged skin before lightly recovering the wound. He finishes applying the last piece of tape, then he sighs and sinks back in his seat, rubbing his eyes. “No. That ain’t it. I’m not…mad, Ellie. I’m just worried about you.”

He swallows hard, choosing his next words carefully, always on thin ice.

“We can’t keep goin’ like this, kid,” he murmurs. “You gotta start talkin’ to me.”

“I know,” she whispers, biting at her lower lip. “Ezra said I should tell you.”

The name puts a lump in his throat. He pretends to be very interested in putting the first aid supplies away. “He did, huh?”

“But I knew you’d try to stop me.”

“Yeah, I woulda,” he snaps, then sighs when she winces. “I just…I don’t get what you were thinkin’, Ellie. But…I want to understand. I’m tryin’ to.”

He tucks everything back into the plastic box and latches it, shoving it aside before turning to meet her eyes, trying to keep his voice soft and level. “Can you help me understand?”

She flinches. “It’s just…every time I see that stupid scar, I remember…I remember them. Riley and Tess and Sam and Henry and…it’s like a big fucking flashing sign reminding me that they died for nothing–“

“That’s not–“

“No,” she cuts in. “You wanted to understand and I’m trying to fucking tell you so just let me talk.”

He sits back, stung. “Alright.”

“This stupid scar…it was supposed to mean something. But it didn’t work out, and now…it’s just a reminder of everything I couldn’t do. And I didn’t want to look at it anymore.”

“That wasn’t…Marlene should never have put that on you,” he says. “You’re just a–“

She scoffs. “I’m ‘just a kid’, right? Because that’s all I’ve ever been. Marlene didn’t ‘put that on me,’ Joel. She believed in me.”

Her fist clenches on the table, and all Joel can think is how much it must hurt, the way her forearm tightens, pulling at the damaged skin. His hand reflexively comes out to cover hers, but she yanks it back.

“You don’t know what it’s like to grow up without anyone . You had your brother and Tess and…and Sarah. People who needed you. But all I had was Riley, and even she fucking left.

“But Marlene saw me and it was like…like I was more than just another dumb FEDRA kid. She knew my mom, she…knew me before anyone else. And she gave me a purpose. And every time I look at that stupid scar, I…I’m just…it’s like I lose that all over again.”

His hands twitch with the effort it takes to restrain himself from pulling her into his arms. The only thing that stops him is shame, the knowledge that he’d been the one to put a bullet between Marlene’s eyes, and what Ellie would think of him if she knew.

“Baby girl,” he begins slowly. “ I believe in you. Tommy an’ Maria an’…an’ Ezra. We’re all here for you . We need you . Not your immunity, not some…some fairytale cure. Just you, Ellie.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah…I know.”

He shakes his head, takes her face in his hands as she’s trying to look away. “No, I don’t think you do. And you need to get it through that stubborn head of yours before you hurt yourself again, y’hear me?”

She looks like she wants to say more, but doesn’t. She just nods, eyes shining. And then he can’t resist, leaning in to place a kiss on her forehead, standing so he can pull her into a hug.

“C’mere.”

And she does, wrapping her good arm around his waist, pressing her face to his chest.

“You…are the only thing that matters here, Ellie,” he says softly. “You. Just you, kid.”

Summer bleeds into fall and Ellie goes back to school. Her arm heals, the old scar covered by a new one that doesn’t betray her immunity. For all Joel’s reservations, the burn seems to have helped put something right in her, and she comes back to him in increments.

She’s eating again, sneaking her portion of venison steak onto his plate and stealing his dinner roll when she thinks he’s not looking. She even suggests they set up a weekly dinner around the new fire pit while the weather holds. She meets him at the stables after patrol so they can walk home together. The light slowly comes back into her eyes.

She’s still seeing Ezra. Joel is not.

They sit on the back porch together at night and he shows her the basics on her guitar, but he can’t bring himself to play. When thoughts of Ezra surface, he pushes them roughly aside and turns back to her. This is what he knows, this is what he’s made for. It’s for the best, he tells himself, and it’s even easier to believe when Ellie smiles.

But sometimes at night, when his body aches from a long day’s work and his mind refuses to still, he misses him.

And then it’s the worst day of the year.

They have an understanding–no presents, no parties, there’s nothing to celebrate. But he compromises because it’s Ellie and because she’s warming up to him again. They’ll have dinner at home, just the two of them. He thinks he overhears something about a cake. Maybe they’ll eat outside and look at the stars.

It’s a plan, but it doesn’t stop him from counting down the late September days with dread and wishing he could sleep through it. Ellie’s presence soothes the ache, but at times like this it’s a band-aid over a gunshot wound.

Tommy doesn’t question it when he asks for an overnight patrol shift the night before, a double, returning in the late morning. He intends to wear himself out, come home, and sleep until dinner.

When the sleep part doesn’t pan out and he has nothing better to do, he drinks. He drinks until his personal stash is depleted, desperate to kill the hours. The Bison doesn’t open until four, but he can’t stare at the ceiling for another second, so he puts on his boots and goes for a walk.

And then he’s standing in front of Ezra’s house. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thinks this is probably the post-apocalyptic equivalent of drunk-dialing his ex, but his judgment is too far gone by the time he finds himself on the porch, knuckles tingling from the knock.

Ezra looks him up and down, forgoing the greeting.

“How far down the rabbit hole are you, songbird?”

“Not far enough,” he mutters. “Can I come in?”

There’s a moment where he’s sure he’ll be turned away. Hell, if the roles were reversed, Joel would probably tell him to fuck off. But Ezra opens the door.

“I have a prior engagement,” he says, clipped, nodding at the closed office door. “Twenty minutes. You can wait in the kitchen.”

Joel nods mutely, aims his steps down the hall. After only a fleeting hesitation, he helps himself to the liquor that Ezra keeps in the cupboard. For strictly medicinal purposes, he’d once said with a coy little smirk, and Joel had rolled his eyes. Now he thinks this is exactly the kind of medicine he needs, and he doesn’t have to show his face at the Bison to get it.

He’s two more drinks in by the time he hears the front door open and close, then Ezra’s footsteps in the hall.

“Ez,” Joel nods, already feeling the effects. He’s been generous with his pours.

“Songbird,” he murmurs, eyeing the half-full glass on the table, the bottle looking leaner.

“I ran out,” Joel mutters, holding up his drink. “Figured it’s a commune. We share.”

Ezra grabs a glass from the cupboard, slides it across the table, and lets Joel pour. He tops up his drink as Ezra takes a seat.

Somehow he’s both too drunk and not drunk enough for whatever comes next.

“To what foul fortune are we drinking at,” Ezra pauses, squints at the clock, “two in the afternoon?”

“Forgetting,” Joel says after a pause.

“To the dissolution of memory,” Ezra murmurs, touching their glasses and downing his portion with a grimace. Joel doesn’t flinch. The smack of the empty tumbler on the tabletop is overloud in the tiny kitchen.

“Let us put our cards on the proverbial table. If you’ve come here after having partaken for the purposes of an errant fuck,” he says, spitting out the last consonant with emphasis, “you’ll find yourself sorely disappointed.”

Joel winces, feels the words hit like a well-deserved slap. “S’not why I’m here.”

“Ah. Then do you intend to tell me why you’ve decided to grace me with your presence?”

He opens his mouth, closes it again. Maybe it’s the alcohol slowing his tongue, but he doesn’t think it’s just that.

“I jus’…”

I miss her.

I miss you.

Ezra studies him, something sharp and curious in his gaze. If Joel weren’t so deep in his melancholy he’d be embarrassed, maybe even ashamed, but Ezra doesn’t look put out, only resigned. Concerned.

He’s too damn quiet either way.

Joel blinks, tries to shake off the sadness that’s taken root, tendrils of sorrow twining around his ribs, making his chest tight. He can’t, of course. It never goes away, just loosens its grip enough for him to keep breathing.

“She, uh…she died today,” he whispers. “Sarah. My…my daughter.”

Ezra eases back in his chair, tilts his head. Joel faintly recognizes it as his counseling pose. Open. Waiting. But his tongue feels stuck to the roof of his mouth and the world has gone fuzzy and he thinks he might be crying but his face is numb.

“Never saw her fifteenth birthday. She’d be thirty-six now…if she’d made it. Thirty-fuckin’-six. That’s…shit,” he laughs humorlessly. “Same age I was when she died.”

Ezra is kind enough not to point out that you could throw a stone anywhere in the town of Jackson and chances are good you’d hit someone who lost a loved one on Outbreak Day. Tonight the Bison will be busier than usual, most of its patrons trying to numb the day away in the same fashion. It wasn’t a revelation.

But it always seemed like a pretty big “fuck you” to Joel to be forced to reckon with his birthday on top of all that.

“Gunshot,” he says evenly. “Couldn’t even bury her. Jus’ left her in a field south’a Austin an’ went on our way.”

His words are slow, fat and syrupy in his mouth.

Ezra leans forward, rests his arm on one knee, peering into Joel’s face. His eyes have gone soft, and it’s too much like pity.

“Prob’ly still there,” he whispers.

Time begins to slide sideways. His eyelids feel heavy, his head filled with sand. He’s on his knees and her blood is drying tacky on his shirt and Tommy is screaming at him to get up, get up, we gotta go , but he’s weighted down, his little girl has never felt so heavy in his arms, cold and still as stone. He’s pinned in place like a butterfly under glass, his baby is gone and he might as well be dead, too.

And then Ezra is standing, taking Joel’s hand, leading him upstairs. He slouches in the bedroom doorway, vaguely aware of the sounds of a shower starting as he tries to shake off the vision of her hand lying limp against his arm. There’s a light touch on his waist, asking permission with the lift of an eyebrow before he’s stripped down methodically and pushed gently toward the bathroom with a hand between his shoulder blades.

Forehead pressed to the tile as the water rolls off his back. Blood, so much blood, the water should run red, but it’s clear. The creak of the faucet turning, the warm rush of water gone, a towel being scrubbed over his shoulders. A hand herding him back into the bedroom, pulling back the covers. The bed is soft, softer than he deserves. The harsh scrape of curtains being closed and the room dims.

Joel flops onto his back, feels the bed spin underneath him, watching through slitted eyes as Ezra moves around the room. Focusing on him, him, him so he doesn’t slip back out of time.

There’s the clunk of a glass of water being placed on the nightstand and Joel reaches out blindly, finding Ezra’s fingers with his.

“Stay.”

A sigh. “Sleep.”

“Can’t…can’t do it,” he mumbles. “Can’t do it again.”

“I know, cher .”

“Mmm. Stay,” he tries again, but the hand is gone.

Ezra whispers something about a gentleman, taking advantage, sleep now . The words barely find him through a thick haze of exhaustion.

“Since when’re you a gentleman?” Joel slurs, rolling over so his words are muffled by the pillow.

A low chuckle as fingers card through his towel-damp hair.

“Sleep, songbird.”

He wakes and the light is all wrong. It’s too dark, for one. It’s not his room, for another.

“Shit,” he hisses, mouth dry as sandpaper. He makes it upright, still a little woozy, caught somewhere between inebriation and a hangover, and stumbles into the bathroom to put on his clothes.

Downstairs, the only light comes from Ezra’s office as music plays low on the record player. Ezra gets up from the couch as Joel squints into the lamplight.

“He lives,” Ezra says drily.

Joel swallows hard, fighting the sudden urge to vomit, and leans against the door frame. When he opens his eyes, Ezra is standing in front of him, brow arched.

“Perhaps I spoke too soon.”

“I, uh…m’alright…”

“You crashed spectacularly,” Ezra says. “Do you recall any of it?”

He wracks his brain. “I…had a few ‘fore I came over, an’…think we…we talked…”

“Indeed. Then you sang, you danced, got down on one knee…”

Joel’s heart is suddenly beating too fast. “I–what?”

“I’m pulling your leg, songbird,” Ezra says, lips curling in a smirk. “No, you did nothing untoward, save for interrupting my last session of the day a few minutes early. And drinking half my liquor, I’ll add.”

“S’pose I deserve that,” he says, breathing a sigh of relief. Then another thought occurs to him, one that sends a hot flush up the back of his neck. “We didn’t, uh…y’know. Did we?”

A dry huff of laughter. “No, we didn’t.”

“Good…I mean, not…I mean…I, uh, wanted…wanted to…not that I wanted–fuckin’ hell,” he groans, stomach roiling again.

Ezra quirks his lips but doesn’t speak, waiting for Joel to recover.

“Look, I, uh… I know you…were just lookin’ out for Ellie before. I stuck m’foot in it. I’m real sorry for that. I just…it’s just, uh Ellie, she’s, uh…she’s doin’ better, an’…that’s...”

He trails off.

…Ellie…something about Ellie…oh…

“Fuck,” he groans. “What time is it?”

“Not quite ten.”

Dinner. He was supposed to be back for dinner.

“Fuck, I gotta…I gotta go.”

“Well. I suppose I should be glad I could be of use ,” Ezra says, lacking his former levity. “Any port in a storm, is that it?”

“No, no, that’s not…shit,” Joel growls, turning to grab his boots, making for the door. “I didn’t mean to…I promised her I’d…I just gotta go.”

“Yes, you’ve made that perfectly clear,” Ezra sighs, his disappointment palpable. “Crystal, in fact.”

“M’sorry, Ez, but…I’ll…tomorrow? Can we just–”

“I think we’ve drawn this out quite enough,” he says flatly. “Goodnight, Joel.”

The door slams behind him, leaving him little choice but to go home. Home, where his kid has been waiting for hours while he’s been sleeping off a bender at his…at Ezra’s.

Fucking fuck.

She’s sitting at the kitchen table with her journal. He suspects there are some choice words in that book for him now, but anger would be preferable to the look in her eyes.

If Ezra’s disappointment stings, Ellie’s is a knife to the heart.

“M’sorry…I’m late,” he says, feeling every bit the asshole he knows he is. “We can still eat if you–”

“Ate already. There’s leftovers in the fridge,” she says flatly. “And a cake. Maria helped me make it. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“You didn’t have to do all that,” he says roughly.

She bites her lip, chewing it, fighting some internal battle before sighing and asking the question.

“Were you with Ezra?”

He opens his mouth to protest, but she snorts. “Don’t bother. You’re shit at hiding things, y’know.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that. Of course she’d known. Hadn’t Ezra told him as much?

A knack for seeing things exactly as they are.

“How long?” he whispers.

“Saw you in the greenhouse once. And that first night…he never took the album back. It’s still in your bedroom. Didn’t mean to snoop, but it’s, like, right there.”

He closes his eyes. The room seems to sway around him, nausea gripping his insides.

“Figured you’d tell me when you were ready,” she shrugs, picking at her nails. “But you never did, so…”

“El–”

“Is it me? ‘Cause I wouldn’t have cared, y’know,” she says, and the waver in her voice nearly brings him to his knees. “I don’t…I don’t know why you don’t…trust me.”

“I do, kiddo, I’m–”

“You said I matter but you can’t even be honest with me about this one stupid thing, and that…that makes me think…”

She’s crying, angry tears that she swipes away with her sleeve before they can fall. Should’ve known , he thinks dully, should have known she’d turn this on herself .

“Fuck it, never mind,” she says with a groan.

He steps forward but she’s out of the chair and already moving toward the stairs.

“It’s not…not gonna happen again,” he tries shakily. “We’re…not…anymore.”

This only seems to make it worse. He wishes she would scream at him, yell and stomp and storm around the way she used to, but now she just looks defeated.

“You’re such an asshole,” she sighs with none of her usual fondness. Then she’s gone, soft footsteps on the stairs and a door that doesn’t slam and the quiet is louder than anything.

He climbs the stairs to his bedroom. The album is still sitting on his dresser. She’s right; he never bothered to hide it. He’s a fucking idiot.

He traces his fingers over the cover and feels the tears he’s been holding back all day slipping down his cheeks.

Worst damn day of the year.

Joel wakes up to an empty house and a raging bitch of a hangover, and that sets the tone for the rest of the week.

He barely sees Ellie after that. When she’s not at school or work or training, she locks herself in her room. She misses her curfew and he lets it slide once, then twice, reasoning she needs the space. But eventually he has to put his foot down. She’s his kid and she can’t avoid him forever.

He hopes.

When she comes home past curfew the next time, he’s waiting up on the porch.

“Sit,” he says, gesturing to the spot next to him on the swing.

She rolls her eyes and moves to go in the house instead, wheeling on him when she jiggles the handle and realizes he’s locked the door. He dangles the key in one hand, cocks an eyebrow, one step ahead of her.

“You’re late,” he says.

“Pretty fucking rich coming from you.”

“Alright, that’s…that’s not the same thing, kid. I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry for that, but you can’t keep doin’ this.”

“It would appear I fucking can.”

Christ, the attitude . There’s a familiar headache forming behind his eyes and he’s fast losing control of his temper. It’s been a long fucking week.

“You can be pissed at me all you want, but I’m still responsible for you. Curfew’s eleven.”

“What was it you said? I’m not your daughter and you’re not my dad. So I think I’m done listening to you.”

His jaw tightens as he tries not to show how much that particular remark stings. He stands and glares at her.

“As long as you live under this roof, you will be home before curfew. Is that clear?”

“Fine,” she says. “Then I don’t have to live here.”

And she turns on her heel and stomps back down the porch steps. 

“Ellie! Damnit–”

She flips her middle finger up, waving it over her head like a flag, and doesn’t look back.

He has half a mind to follow her, but he knows if he does, he’ll say some shit he doesn’t mean. And so will she. And they’ll just keep circling around the same awful truth, the one he can’t speak aloud, the one she can’t admit to herself.

Instead, he goes into the house and punches a dent in the kitchen wall.

She’ll come back , he tells himself, pacing the floor and clutching his throbbing fist. She’ll come back, and they’ll patch things up and smooth it over the same way he’ll patch up the drywall tomorrow. They’ll figure it out. They always do.

But then she doesn’t come home.

He’s on Tommy and Maria’s doorstep early the next morning, when his imagination has cycled through all the worst case scenarios and won’t let him wait any longer.

“Y’all seen Ellie? She took off last night. Thought maybe she might’ve stayed here.”

Tommy’s bouncing Izzy on his hip. He shakes his head.

“Nope. Been up most of the night with this one, definitely would've seen her.”

Joel frowns, flexes his aching hand.

“But she can’t have gone far,” Tommy adds quickly. “I’ll radio the folks on the wall, let ‘em know to keep an eye out.”

“Alright…”

“Should we be worried?”

Joel bites his lip, shakes his head. “Nah. Just, uh, let me know if you hear anythin’. I’ll go ask around.”

Tommy nods. “‘Course. We’ll keep you posted.”

He waits by the school until half past eight, but she doesn’t show. Every minute she’s unaccounted for ratchets his anxiety up another notch until he’s grinding his teeth and pacing a trail between the stables, the house, and the main street in hopes of catching her.

Tommy flags him down on his way back to the house, his third such trip in the last hour.

“Hey, just got word on the radio. She’s fine. Ezra’s got her. Says she showed up last night an’ crashed with Cee.”

Joel runs a hand through his hair. “That's…somethin’, I guess.”

Tommy gives him a look that’s too close to pity for comfort. “You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?”

“S’nothin’ serious,” he mutters. “Had a rough day, that’s all.”

Tommy smirks. “If she’s anythin’ like you at sixteen–”

“Jesus, don’t start,” he groans.

“Just sayin’, big brother. You’re in for it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go on. An’…thanks, Tommy.”

He waits until his brother is out of sight before heading to Ezra’s.

Ezra doesn’t invite Joel in this time, just steps onto the porch and closes the door behind him.

“Hey. I, uh…heard she’s here.”

“Your young prodigy made her illustrious appearance in the wee hours. Fortunately for her I’m a light sleeper…as you well know,” he adds coolly.

Joel crosses his arms, can’t meet his eyes. “Look, I, uh…I don’t want her puttin’ you or your girl out–”

Ezra ducks his head, softening a little. “It’s no trouble. I got the distinct impression at our last session that the two of you were not exactly…simpatico at the moment.”

“You could say that.”

He lowers his voice. “In fairness, she’s been equally reticent with me as of late. I speculated that she might have felt I betrayed her trust in my conversations with you–”

Joel shakes his head. “She, uh, figured us out. Wasn’t too happy about it. Or…she wasn’t happy about bein’ left in the dark, more like.”

“Ah. Well…I suppose I am just as much to blame, then.”

“No,” Joel says quickly. “It’s on me. I shoulda…should have told her. Got too in my head an’…well, guess it doesn’t matter now.”

He shifts on his feet, rubs at the back of his neck.

“Don’t think she’d be here if she blamed you,” he murmurs. “I dunno. Maybe you can get through to her. Think I’ve done enough.”

“I’ll do my level best. The couch is hers until she’s had enough of me. Perhaps a few days of my loquacious ramblings will set her to rights,” he adds drily. “If she’s anything like Cee, she’ll be begging for peace and mercy at your door.”

“Doubt that,” he says thickly. “I guess I’ll…I’ll bring by some of her stuff. Clothes an’ whatnot.”

Ezra nods.

“Tell her…tell her I love her,” he says. “An’ I’m sorry. I, uh…yeah. I’m sorry.”

“I suspect the apology would be more effective coming from you…but I’ll pass the message along.”

“Thanks, Ez.”

He walks away. It feels too much like giving up, and the ugly bloom of failure unfurls in his gut like a poison.

Joel packs a small duffel bag with enough clean clothes for three days. After a week with zero contact, he can only assume she’s doing laundry, or she snuck back to the house while he was out and grabbed more of her stuff.

By day five, he’s making a regular stop at the Bison after his shifts when it’s clear his usual late-September blues aren’t going away. There’s a two-drink maximum, and Joel gets his daily share before going home, pulling out his flask, and crashing on the couch. Sleeping pills are hard to come by but booze will do in a pinch. He’s keenly aware this is partly what got him into trouble in the first place, but in Ellie’s absence, he’s lost his anchor and his reason to care.

Tommy sidelines him at the bar on day seven, sliding onto the stool next to him just as he’s started his first drink.

“So you gonna pull the stick outta your ass and tell me what’s goin’ on?”

Joel rolls his eyes, grunts. “Dunno what you’re gettin’ at.”

“C’mon, Joel. I got eyes. Ellie ain’t talkin’ and you’re shufflin’ around here like a fuckin’ mushroom head,” he says, eyeing the drink in Joel’s hand.

“Your wife put you up to this?”

Tommy snorts. “She’s got her hands full. I’m askin’ as your brother…and your friend. Now talk.”

“She’s mad,” he mutters, taking a long drink. “Not much to tell.”

“The fuck did you do?”

Indignance flares. “What makes you think I did anythin’? She’s sixteen. She’s gonna hate me sometimes.”

“Bullshit. That girl thinks you hung the moon. An’ you wouldn’t be out here drinkin’ yourself stupid if you didn’t feel bad about somethin’.”

It’s an uncomfortable role reversal; Joel in the hot seat, Tommy doing the grilling. He wonders when his little brother grew up.

It’s really fuckin’ annoying.

“Whatever you did, just…fix it, Joel.”

“Not that simple.”

“Yeah, it really is, big brother.”

“Tommy, I–you don’t know,” Joel growls. “You don’t know what happened out there.”

“You’re right about that. Been holdin’ your cards pretty close to the chest. But I know you, and I know when you’re lettin’ your foolish pride get the better of you.”

“If you’re so fuckin’ smart then you go figure it out. ‘Cause I’ve tried, and it ain’t workin’.”

Tommy considers him, taps his fingers on the counter before leaning in. “And Ezra?”

He stiffens. “What about Ezra?”

“Thought maybe you two were…y’know. Seemed pretty close for a while there.”

Joel glares at his brother. “What’d Ellie tell you?”

He whistles. “She didn’t have to tell me nothin’. Like I said, I have eyes. An’ you’re shit at hidin’ things.”

Christ, that’s exactly what she said. That stokes the flames of Joel’s ire even further. He's as transparent as the amber liquid he’s drinking.

“Hey, I ain’t judgin’–”

“Good.”

“An’ it’s none of my business–”

“Sure as shit it ain’t.”

“But as your brother…I only wanna see you happy. An’ the only person capable of makin’ you this miserable is you. So quit fuckin’ around and make it right.”

“Did you come here to drink or just to get on my ass?”

“Naw, I gotta go. I owe Maria a week’s worth of diaper duty for the whole Ezra thing,” he winks, hopping off the stool. “‘Sides, I’ve got early patrol tomorrow. Gotta get my beauty rest.”

Joel grunts, considers tossing his drink in his brother’s stupid, smug face, decides it would be a waste of a good sleep aid.

“Fix it, Joel,” Tommy says, clapping him on the back as he takes his leave. “S’what you do best.”

Eight days.

It’s been eight days since Ellie left him. He hasn’t been apart from her for this long in their entire history together, and it’s breaking something inside him, cracking his heart in places he didn’t know could crack. Somehow it’s worse than Sarah, because Sarah has been dead and gone for years, while he is painfully aware of Ellie’s proximity. Alive, but impossible to reach.

It’s late. He’s sprawled on the couch trying to drink himself to sleep when there’s a knock.

Hope, sudden and fleeting. Maybe she’s come home . It’s foolish to think she’d knock at her own door, but he’s just lucid enough for it to hurt when he sees Maria on the porch instead.

“Joel,” she says, an unusual tremor in her voice. His heart leaps into his throat.

“S’it Ellie? What happened?”

“Ellie’s fine, as far as I know. But we have a problem.”

He sags against the door, the emotional whiplash making him surly. “Find someone else.“

“Tommy’s patrol shift got back half an hour ago. They were attacked. They sent Peterson and James home with gunshot wounds.”

“Yeah? Not sure what you want me to do about it, seein’ as I’m not a fuckin’ doctor.”

“They have Tommy, Joel.”

The words don’t make sense.

“The fuck does that mean? Who has Tommy?”

“I need you to tell me what happened out there. With Ellie. They said–”

He draws back, some dim internal alarm beginning to sound. “Where’s Tommy?”

“They took him and they’re asking about a girl, Joel. I need to know what happened with Ellie–”

“S’none of your–”

“It is my damn business,” she snaps. “Patrollers get attacked and taken and then it’s my goddamned business.”

He closes his eyes, feels like he’s in a dream.

“Peterson said they’re holding him hostage, said something about wanting a girl in exchange. Tommy…told me about Ellie’s immunity.”

“He what ?”

“No one else knows,” she says quickly. “But Tommy said something happened with Ellie while you were gone over the winter, something with the Fireflies. And now we’ve got people out there who made a coordinated attack, and they’re looking for a kid, and they…they have my husband.”

It’s here that her voice breaks, her careful mask of competence cracking.

“I need to know what happened out there, Joel,” she continues, composing herself. “If these people have some kind of vendetta, I need to know what we’re up against.”

“Fuck,” he breathes. “I can’t–”

“You can catch me up on the way to the clinic,” she snaps, offering him no other choice. “Let’s go.”

The walk to the clinic in the cool night air is enough to sober him up. It takes all of five minutes, but Joel doesn’t need that much time to explain.

He left a lot of dead Fireflies in a hospital in Salt Lake City, including one of their leaders.

No, there were no survivors.

No, Ellie doesn’t know.

Maria remains neutral, offering only grunts and nods in response. When they arrive at the clinic, he takes her by the arm and turns her before they go inside.

“Ellie had nothin’ to do with it, y’hear? I don’t want her payin’ for what I did.”

“I don’t follow.”

“I’m just sayin’…if this is happenin’ because of the shit I pulled—”

“We’re prepared to deal with them.”

“Does ‘deal with them’ mean turnin’ her over to the Fireflies? Because I ain’t about to let that happen,” he growls.

She draws back. “What? She’s my niece , Joel.”

“Yeah, an’ now Tommy’s in trouble ‘cause of me ,” he hisses. “An’ we both know you didn’t want me here.”

“No, I didn’t at first,” she sighs. “But I was wrong. And we don’t know for sure that we’re dealing with Fireflies. For all we know they could be raiders trying to take us for supplies. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Look, I’ll do whatever you want as long as Ellie is safe. She stays in Jackson. That’s all I ask.”

“Of course,” Maria says, then shakes her head in disbelief. “Did you really think I’d turn over a child, Joel?”

“You an’ I both know, times like these, worse shit has gone down.”

“Not on my watch, it doesn’t,” she says. “That’s not how we do things. And you sure as hell better plan on sticking around because if this shit goes south, I’m not raising two girls on my own.”

He swallows hard. “Alright. Tell me…tell me what to do.”

“Peterson just got patched up. I want you to hear what she has to say while it’s still fresh.”

Joan Peterson is sitting on the hospital cot, one arm bandaged with gauze. Joel knows her as a fellow patroller, a short, level-headed woman who knows her way around outside the walls.

“Just a graze,” she says, nodding at the bandage. “James is still in surgery, he got the worst of it.”

“How’d they get Tommy?” Joel asks.

“They fired and missed. Horse got spooked and threw him. They had us surrounded and he was the first one they grabbed. Held him at gunpoint.”

“You think they were Fireflies?”

“I don’t know. They could have been, but…it was getting dark. I couldn’t see much, and it’s not like they carry a flag or anything.”

“You’d know,” Joel mutters. “The Fireflies weren’t great about keepin’ a low profile.”

“They looked pretty ragged,” she offers. “So probably far from home, not locals. None of ‘em looked familiar.”

“How many?” Maria asks.

“At least six that I saw, but there coulda been more hanging back. Like I said, it was getting dark. We didn’t have the manpower and they had Miller, we couldn’t risk it. That’s protocol,” she adds, glancing at Maria for confirmation.

“And they said somethin’ about a kid?”

“Yeah, they said they’d trade Miller for ‘the girl’. Didn’t give us a name or anything. They said we’d know what they meant.”

“Was there anything else?” Maria prompts.

“No. Just…we need to get our people back out there.”

“They’ll have the advantage in the dark,” Maria bites her lip. “The council will put a group together tonight…we’ll ride out at first light.”

“I’ll be there,” Peterson says seriously.

“You’re hurt–”

“Just a scratch. I want to get those sons of bitches,” she scowls. “We won’t let them get away with this.”

“Thanks, Joan,” Maria says more softly.

They leave the exam room and step into the hall.

“Does that sound like Fireflies to you?” she asks, turning to Joel.

“S’not common for ‘em to take hostages, far as I know…but it’s not unheard of. If they’ve been keeping an eye on this place they know they can’t bomb their way in. We’re too well-guarded for that. But if it’s the Fireflies I knew…they ain’t stupid. We don’t wanna underestimate ‘em.”

Maria nods pensively. “They’re convinced we have someone they want, so we have to assume they’re watching. I’ll go to the council about putting extra folks on shift at the dam and the outposts, just in case.”

“If it ain’t the Fireflies…what then?”

“The same. We get Tommy back,” she says, eyes going dark. “And we don’t give them a chance to do worse.”

They agree to meet in a couple hours with the rest of the patrol group to go over the plan. Maria tells him to rest up and he gives her a look.

“I will if you will,” he says.

“Fair enough,” she says. “See you soon, Joel.”

He returns to the house. He almost goes to check on Ellie first, to let her know where he’ll be in the unlikely event she decides to come home, but stops himself. He has to focus on getting Tommy back, and there’s no sense in worrying her.

There’s a knock at the door while he’s laying out his gear on the kitchen table. Joel prepares himself for another conversation with Maria, maybe something she forgot to ask, but then Ezra is standing in front of him.

The expression on Joel’s face must give him away, because Ezra holds up a hand.

“Your young prodigy is copacetic, all things considered,” he says before Joel can ask. “May I come in?”

“Uh…sure.”

“I heard there was an attack.”

Joel swallows hard. “Yeah…I’m headin’ out in a couple hours. They, uh…they got Tommy.”

His eyes widen. “Your brother…”

“Yeah,” he says, then his stomach sinks. “Shit…does Ellie know?”

“No, I specifically–”

“Good,” he cuts in. “Keep in that way. Last thing I need’s her goin’ off on some harebrained mission to get herself killed.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” he says softly.

“No,” Joel shoots back, returning to his backpack, tugging at the straps of the bag to loosen them. “Maria’s got the council on it. We’ll take care of it.”

“I suspected you would be called up, as it were. I suggested she might want to join me…reconcile with you before you leave. She was unresponsive to my counsel, so unfortunately…I’ve come alone.”

“Yeah,” he says, swallowing his disappointment with a measure of relief. “Prob’ly for the best.”

“I haven’t darkened your doorstep on behalf of your young prodigy, though,” he hesitates. “I came to warn you…I fear you and your compatriots are walking into an ambush.”

“Yeah? Tell me somethin’ I don’t know,” he sighs, checking the batteries in his flashlight.

“I told you before about Damon and the group we escaped. And my concern is…I suspect he’s not stopped looking for us. For Cee.”

“You think he wants his kid back?”

Ezra nods. “I do believe that is the case, yes.”

“Why?”

“I…suspect it does not sit right with his massive ego to have been…bested by a cripple and a little girl. He is more than capable of holding a grudge. And though I am loath to think of what might happen to her if she were to be returned to him…he is, within the bounds of the old laws, her rightful caretaker.”

“Well…what does Cee want?”

“She doesn’t have an opinion on the matter because she believes her father to be dead.”

Joel stops, turns back to him, meets his eyes. “An’ why would she think that?”

Ezra doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t need to.

“Christ,” Joel mutters.

“I told her what she needed to hear to…encourage her to leave with me.”

“Fuckin’ hell, Ez–”

“The mere fact of my deception changes nothing, Joel. Every utterance, every word on the matter stands true. Cee was in grave danger–”

“How do I know you’re not holdin’ that girl hostage or somethin’?” Joel spits through gritted teeth.

Ezra scoffs.

“No, you tell me right now why I shouldn’t go tell Maria and the rest of the council that we’re harborin’ a kidnapper?”

“Because you know me, Joel,” he says softly. “You know I could not fathom harming a hair on that little bird’s golden head, let alone actually committing such a heinous crime. You’ve entrusted me with your own girl’s care and you know in your heart of hearts that I have no desire to do anything untoward. More than that…you know what treachery lies beyond these walls. You’ve known that life, and you know her place of safety was tenuous at best.

“Trust that I would have happily taken Damon’s life myself if granted the opportunity. And I came here to tell you that if you get the chance…I’d suggest you take it.”

Joel considers him, breathes an angry sigh, then turns back to his bag and unceremoniously stuffs the rest of his supplies in, cinching the top buckle tight.

“Could be anyone. Raiders, Fireflies. No way to know ‘til we’re out there,” he bites out. “Seems we both have shit to answer for. Just have to see who’s doin’ the callin’.”

Ezra ducks his head, frowns. “I’ll owe you a great debt if–”

“Don’t,” Joel snaps, then bites his lip, softening. “Look, if anythin’ happens out there…Ellie…she, uh…she’s better with Maria now but she’s not–they’re not–”

Ezra puts his hand on his shoulder, the touch startling him into silence.

“You’ll come home. And we–she–will be here when you do.”

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Birthday Kiss

A cute & fluffy friends to lovers story for Harry's birthday! lot's of tension brewing. Literally the feeling of when you're both too shy to make ✨the move✨. Sorry for any mistakes, I literally just threw this together!

Warnings: None? Some steamy kissing/making out, but no smut-smut.

WC: 4.6K words

It was just after midnight and the festivities hadn’t been luxe or extravagant like many people would have probably imagined for a star of his caliber, it had just been a small little thing organized by Jeff at a family friend’s Palm Springs home. But Harry really preferred it that way. When he was around his people he liked to feel a part of the bunch, not like the star of the show, as he normally was. It was interesting really because almost everyone at this little post-show celebration worked for him - not necessarily as his subordinates, but as the team who helped him seemingly conquer the world. And as a friend of his for several years now, Y/N thought it was quite beautiful that once he left the venue and the crowd was gone, the lights turned down and the ground was littered with glitter and endless stray feathers he wasn’t Harry Styles, world-famous pop star anymore, he was just plain old, Harry. His management and production team weren’t in work-mode anymore, they were just his friends, like she was and they loved him, like she did. 

“Thank you guys, so much.” He smiled, all dimply and bashful, head bowed in gratitude but his eyes were scanning the faces of the roughly 15 people who were with him and had just finished singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to him. There was still a very soft cloud of smoke before him from the candles he had just blown out on the small cake in his hands. He set it down as a few of his bandmates, friends, and loved ones started to line up to give him a hug and offer their well wishes and she would wait her turn patiently to do the same, saving herself for last because it had been a while since they had even been in the same room.

Finally, Y/N was up next and Harry’s smile went a bit bigger for her. Harry always told her that she was his favorite, which she loved to hear because he was her favorite too. And as she approached him he opened his arms wide for her to fit herself against his chest and hug him tight as she pressed a kiss to his jaw, his cheek was a tad out of reach for her.

“Mmmm….” She hummed into their embrace, “Happy birthday, H.” She congratulated him as their faces pressed together while they hugged tight.

“Thank you, love. Thank you so much for coming out, I know you’re swamped.” He said lowly.

“Of course! I’m just sorry I won’t be able to make it tomorrow. Or well, tonight technically.” She said as they pulled away and looked into each other’s eyes. Her hands had slid down to his biceps and his were settled at the middle of her back.

“You’re here tonight! I’m just happy you were able to make it to one of the shows.” He said and she smiled at him. 

“I am too, thank you for having me. You were amazing, as always…” she complimented and his cheeks went all pink as he smiled at the ground before their eyes met again.

“Really, thank you so much.” He said and she just hugged him again which he easily gave in to. After a moment of catching up they were joined by Shellie, Jeff’s mom, who started chatting with them both and then they scattered as he talked with others and she caught up with some mutual friends who she also hadn’t seen in a bit. But soon it was nearing 1am and Y/N had to go, she had a several hour drive back to LA and day full of depositions later on in the day.

She had started a new job at a rather prestigious law firm back in October and had been unusually busy with case prepping and depositions and paperwork and court appearances and just life during his LA residency and she hadn’t been able to make any of his shows in LA. So when he informed her about the Palm Springs additions in early December she made sure to request the day off to make it to one of them, it unfortunately couldn’t be the one on the actual day of his birthday but it was close enough. 

“Well, I ought to hit the road…” Y/N said to Jeff who she had been chatting with for the last few minutes.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay and head out in the morning?” He asked and she sighed.

“Can’t, I’ve got a deposition at 9:30 tomorrow…” she sighed and he grimaced.

“Oh man, I’m sorry.” He said and she shrugged.

“It is what it is…” she sighed through a chuckle and he chuckled along with her before hugging her. 

She then proceeded to say her farewells to the people she knew from the group including Glenn and Jeff’s parent’s, and Harry’s mom too and politely hugged those who she had met for the first time tonight. Then she made her way over towards Harry, he was with Pauli, Ny, and Kris Jenner, of all people in the world, who animatedly told them some story that had the three of them in absolute stitches. Harry was quite literally clutching at his stomach as he gasped for air through his laughter. He was so beautiful when he laughed, it made her heart flip in funky ways and if she could she would watch this moment in replay. As soon as Harry saw her he reached his hand out to her despite his laughter and she grabbed it, allowing him to pull her over. It sent an electric current through her body, not knowing that touching her had the exact same effect on him.

“Oh my god, that was the wildest thing I’ve ever heard.” He said through bated breathing as he just pulled Y/N close.

“We were wild back in the day, just ask your mom.” Kris laughed to Harry and he shook his head.

“I don’t think I want to know about her adventures.” He laughed, inhaling deeply as he recovered then turned to Y/N, “This is Kris, by the way, I don’t think you’ve met?” He asked and Y/N shook her head as she looked from Harry to Kris.

“Not yet, I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.” She said extending a hand and Kris pulled her in for a hug.

“We’re huggers here, Y/N. It’s lovely to meet you.” She said kindly as Y/N smiled at her as they pulled apart.

“Thank you. You too.” Y/N reciprocated her nicety with a sincere smile.

“Alright, well it was nice to chat with you all, but I’m going to go back to my crowd.” She said to them all as she came closer to Harry, “Happy birthday, sweetheart. You were fantastic out there.” She praised as they hugged, “I’m so proud of you.” She sprinkled in as they kissed cheeks and soon she was heading off.

“She’s the best.” Pauli chuckled and Harry grinned wide and nodded in agreement.

“Literally, never a dull moment with her around.” He assured as he draped his arm over Y/N’s shoulder, “Should we indulge in another slice of cake? We can share.” He said to her and she pouted a bit.

“It’d love to, but it’s time for me to retire.” She said and he frowned.

“At this hour? Gonna drive all the way now?” He asked in slight concern.

“Have to. I have to be at a deposition at 9:30.” She said to the group with an exasperated look and both Pauli and Ny grimaced in the same manner as Jeff had when she told him.

“I’m sorry.” Ny said.

“It’s work.” She shrugged, “Can’t live with it, can’t live without it.”

“Maybe you should just join the Love Band.” Pauli smiled and Y/N cackled.

“If you want to continue having successful tours, maybe not!” She joked.

“We don’t have to mic you…” He said and she giggled as they all chuckled.

“It was nice to see everyone though. You guys sounded great!” She said as Harry let her go so that she could hug his bandmates goodbye, “Bye-bye, birthday boy.” She said coming up to him with open arms and he hugged her, swaying them a few times, “Oh! That reminds me, I got you something! I’ll go get it real quick!” She said breaking their hug and he shook his head.

“It’s alright, I’ll walk you out.” He said.

“Oh no, it’s OK. I had to park down the street and-”

“More reason to not let you go alone. There’s coyotes out there.”

“It’s California, there’s coyotes everywhere.” She giggled.

“Whatever, I’ll be back in a few.” He said to Pauli and Ny-oh, “Guy’s I’m gonna walk Y/N to her car, I’ll be back in a bit!” He announced over the conversations happening and the group all called out farewells as she smiled and waved goodbye to everyone before they walked off towards the entrance of the house.

“Deposition at 9:30, huh?”

“Yeah…it’s a wrongful termination case…I don’t think our client was wrongfully terminated but whatever.” She said and he chuckled as they reached the door and made their way outside. The wind was blowing hard, making the night feel colder than it probably was as so he linked arms with her as they made their way out the door.

Harry wished she didn’t have to go tonight, with his work commitments they didn’t get to see each other all that much, but now that she had this crazy job as a defense attorney she was busy all the time and it made it even harder for them to hang out like they often did when he was in town. Harry had liked Y/N for a year or so now and on multiple occasions he had intended to tell her but would end up flaking out, he wasn’t sure if she liked him too or what? He had a hard time reading her and he didn’t want to risk ruining anything in their friendship.

“What’d they do?” He asked as they walked to the gate around around the property.

“Here’s the context, we deposed the other person involved a few days ago!” She said with excitement, “So he had tried to ask one of his co-workers out-”

“It had to be a ‘he’…” he interrupted and she giggled and nodded, “Makes us al look bad…” he mumbled and she giggled.

“Oh yeah he does! Well, the girl said no and he was insistent; like he would send her flowers and buy her things, that type of situation. So she’s creeped out and decided to file a harassment complaint with HR.” She explained as they made their way through the gate, “So they call him in and give him a warning, advise him to leave her alone and he get’s pissed that she involved HR. So he then has to do a sexual harassment training program and professionalism workshops, which he never went to, so again, HR sends him a notice. All the while, he continues to pursue the girl, telling her that the least she could do is go out with him because she ratted him out to HR.” She said and he scoffed, “I know. I would drop him if I could…so anyway, long-story-short, she blows him off again and he get’s so angry that he puts an air tag on her car and shows up at her house!”

“What the fuck?” Harry gasped.

“I know! Total nut job… so she calls the police because she feels unsafe and she starts an inquiry at work to see how he got a hold of that information as it’s not made public and as they dig through things they find out about the air tag while reviewing security footage and fire him on the spot. He’s arguing that company policy says 3 warnings and he only got 2 warnings and well, you know how those people are.” She said and he frowned as they continue walking.

“God…and you’re working the case?”

“Assisting. I don’t get to do cases alone yet.” She said quickly, “I wonder what he’s gonna say in his deposition tomorrow, I’m curious.” She said and he hummed.

“Well, just be careful, he’s clearly not well and I don’t know what I would do if he fixated on you and stalked you too.” He said shaking his head.

“After doing some digging on him I think I’ll be fine, I’m not his type.” She said and he hummed.

“Well still. You live alone and there’s a lot of crazies out there.”

“I am, H.” She said and he sighed.

“Better be.” He said lowly and she smiled at his concern.

“This is me.” She said as they stopped beside her sedan and she let go of his arm and unlocked her car, “Thank you again, for inviting me. I had a lot of fun.” She assured with a smile and he smiled as well.

“Thank you for driving all the way out here for me. I know it’s a long way and we didn’t even really get to spend time together or-”

“I’m just really happy I got to see you.” She said, “I missed you.” She admitted.

“I missed you too. And I know I haven’t been a great friend, I’ve been so busy and haven’t even reached out to catch up or talk and you came all this way for this like 5 minute conversation and I just feel bad.” He said and she shook her head.

“Oh my god, H… I understand and I mean, relationships are a two way street, H. I haven’t done that either, I’ve been so busy that I’ve neglected a lot of people the last few months and I didn’t want that to continue into this year.” She explained, “I don’t care about the drive or even if I didn’t get one-on-one time with you today, I just wanted to be here for you.” She said simply, “And I promise that I will do better from here on out. You matter to me and our friendship matters to me, so of course I’m going to come through for you. Always.” She promised and he bit his lip and nodded.

“Thank you, I’ll do better too. You mean so much to me too, like you don’t even know.” He said to her and she smiled softly. The words were trying to claw their way out of his mouth but he was swallowing them down; she had said that their friendship mattered to her and that was enough to dissuade him from telling her how he felt.

“Thank you. I love you so much.” She said opening up her arms and he smiled as he hugged her tight.

“I love you too.” He responded before they let go.

“Oh, before I forget!” She said opening up the passenger door and he moved aside to let her dip down into the car, “Here is your present. I’m sorry, I didn’t have time to wrap or bag it.” She said extending a book out to him.

“You didn’t have to get me anything…” he assured as he took it from her timidly.

“It’s nothing, H. It’s used by me so ummm there are some highlights and things in there, but don’t mind them. I just think you’ll really like it.” She explained and he smiled as he looked over the cover, “Daring Greatly” is what it was called, “You know that I’m not super into the whole self-help book thing, but I read this one over the holidays and holy shit…it gave me a lot to think about and I think you’re really going to like it.” She smiled as he flipped it over and read the back of it to get an idea of what it could be about and he smiled as he continued reading through it. There were a lot of aspects about how his life went that were in direct conflict with how he wished it could be and it was hard for him sometimes to feel like there were eyes on him all the time, even in private. It made it hard for him to open up with people that mattered a lot to him sometimes and he was still working hard on being able to overcome that.

“Thank you so much.” He smiled up at her and she nodded as she shut the passenger door.

“Yeah, no worries.” She assured with a friendly smile as he set the book on the roof of the car and reached for her again. They hugged each other tight again and just when he was dreading the thought that she was about to let go, he felt her relax into his hold as the wind whipped around them in the dark street. He smiled and squeezed her a bit harder. Trying to remember everything about this moment. He wished he could be more brave…maybe he wouldn’t tell her what he was feeling in his heart for her, but he would be honest about one thing.

“I don’t want you to go.” He confessed, “Barely got any time with you.” He sighed sadly. His words weighed heavily on her heart, she felt that way too and just thinking about driving away and seeing his reflection grow smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror made her want to cry. She bit her lip and moved her head out of his neck and glanced up to him as he glanced down. Their eyes were filled with sadness as they look at each other.

“I wish I didn’t have to go.” She said and he sighed.

“It’s not fair.” He said sadly and she nodded.

“I know.” She sniffled as she brought a hand up to his jaw and held the side of his face. She watched with a thumping heart as his eyes scanned down her face and landed on her lips before he just glanced up to the sky for a second before he pulled her closer.

“Just hold me for a little bit.” He said and she wrapped her arms around him again and rested her head into the crook of his neck as he rested his chin over her head. She could heart his heart thumping just as hard as hers was and as much as they were relaxed in each other’s hold it was still pounding hard and it dawned on her that just maybe he felt the same way as she did. She was scared to say anything though and so they just held each other in the cold night for who knows how long until his phone rang in his hoodie’s pocket and he groaned as he reached inside for it seeing it was his mom.

“Hi.” He said as he brought it up to his ear, his left hand still secured around her waist, keeping her close, so she didn’t move away, “Sorry, didn’t mean to worry you guys, I’m still out here with Y/N.” He explained, she could feel the vibrations of his low and soothing voice through his throat and chest, “It’s been a long while so we were just making up for lost time, and got chatting.” He said, “-yeah, I know it’s late. I’ll be in soon.” He assured, “Alright, bye.” He finished and hung up before sliding the phone in his pocket, “She said bye again and that I need to let you go home.” He said sadly, but he still wore a smile. “We’ve been out here for twenty minutes apparently. Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you.” He sighed and she shook her head.

“S’alright. It was lovely while it lasted.” She said and he smiled.

“Just one more minute?” He asked and she nodded and held him close again, swallowing the lump in her throat.  

“Yeah, just a little bit more.” She agreed as they started to sway just a little and his hands started sliding down to her hips.

“You look pretty today.” He said and she smiled as she pulled back a bit and laid her hands flat on his chest as she glanced up at him.

“Thanks, H. You look good too, I like when your hair’s like this.” She said and he smiled, “I mean, it looks good when it’s a little longer too, but this looks really good.” She compliment as she reached up and ruffled the top of it a bit and he chuckled.

“Thanks, love.” He hummed bashfully as her hand traveled down his face and her thumb stroked along his jaw, feeling a little more confident.

“This little facial hair action you’ve got going on is also nice.” She said as her thumb trailed towards his mouth and before she could go to the slight mustache growing over his lips he suddenly turned and opened his mouth and playfully snapped a bite at her thumb which gave her a fright as she quickly pulled her hand away, but eventually this ended in a laugh.

“God, stop! You scared me.” She huffed as she very lightly slapped at his chest and he chuckled. But he had to stop her, there was no way that she could feel around his mouth and it not end in him attempting to kiss her and then he’d ruin everything. He had an unreadable look in his eyes which made her frown a bit. “You alright?” She asked and he quickly snapped out of it and nodded.

“Yeah, sorry. Zoned out for a second.” He shook his head and she hummed.

“OK, well I really should go now.” She said and he nodded.

“Yeah.” He agreed, but didn’t really loosen the grip of his arms around her waist as their eyes met again and then his flickered down to her lips quickly but again, made no move and she decided that she was just going to do it. 

She tiptoed with a racing heart and butterflies in her stomach. Harry’s entire body was covered in goosebumps as her hands slid up his chest as she tiptoed, their faces now much closer together than before and his heart skipped a beat as her eyes glanced down to his lips and then back up to his eyes as she leaned in closer. He swallowed the nervous lump forming in his throat as the tension between them came to an all-time high. And in mere moments their noses were barely brushing as her hands looped around his neck and then their eyes fluttered closed as she closed the gap as her lips melded against his own tenderly. He couldn’t believe it, the air completely left his lungs and his brain felt like it exploded as his hands squeezed around her hips before he related released them and instead grabbed her face gently as their lips moved together in perfect t sync. The soft little smacks of their kisses were sending him into another plain of reality. As their lips slotted together he felt on top of the world, it wasn’t hard for their kiss to gain a little more traction and deepen as she very lightly sucked on his bottom lip. It just about made his knees give beneath him. This awakened something in him and he did it back to her, he heard her sigh with a little hint of a whimper and he proceeded to let his tongue just barely swipe at her swollen bottom lip and when she parted her mouth just a bit more he used a little more of it. This kiss made her feel like fireworks were bursting inside of her and it was making her breathless; she never wanted to stop, but she needed to go. She really had to now. Harry hummed in slight protest as her hands started to slide back down to his chest.

“No.” He muttered against her mouth and she smiled which caused the kiss to naturally end and he leaned his forehead onto hers, “Been dying to kiss you for ages.” He admitted before leaning back in and she allowed it as he pecked her lips a few more times, her entire body was buzzing now.

“I was too, but I really have to get home, H. I’m sorry.” She pouted and he kissed at her pout.

“I know. Just being selfish.” He muttered and she pecked his lips this time as he let go of her face and settled his hands back on her waist as he pouted now.

“Don’t pout, it’s making me feel bad.” She whined, “Already gonna cry the whole way home.” She sniffled, already feeling her eyes welling up.

“Nooo…” he frowned, “Why are you gonna cry?” He asked as he kissed the tip of her nose.

“Because it’s not fair. Like, who knows when we’re gonna get to see each other again.” She said sadly and he sighed.

“I know…” he said solemnly before he hugged her close and she rested into his chest, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” She assured, but he still felt like it was. He was the one leaving the country, not her.

“I’ve still got to perform at the Grammy’s next Sunday so I’m gonna be in town, I’ve got rehearsals during the week and I will make time to come see you.” He said.

“I don’t want to add more stuff to your schedule, H.”

“You’re not, I want to see you before I go on Sunday.” He reassured her.

“Where are you going on Sunday?”

“Back to London. M’performing at the BRIT awards and then just resting a few weeks before I head to Australia for the next leg of the tour.” He sighed and she hummed in understanding.

“S’gonna be a while until next time, huh?” She asked and he nodded sadly.

“Yeah, but you know that this is kind of home away from home.” He said with a small smile, “And well…anywhere you are, that’s where I want to be too. All the time if I could.” He confessed earnestly and she just surged forward and pressed their lips together again in a searing and wonderful kiss, but before she could be sucked back in to another make-out session she parted their lips.

“OK, I really need to go now.” She said and he nodded.

“Yeah, for real this time.” He giggled and they hugged quickly before she pecked his lips just one last time.

“Happy birthday, H.” She spoke against his kiss-swollen lips.

“Thanks, love. I’ll see you soon.” He said and she nodded.

“See you soon.” She whispered before they parted ways and he gave her one last kiss before helping her into her car and waving her off into the night. As she glanced back at him through the rearview mirror her eyes started welling up, as she knew they would. But then her phone dinged and she glanced at it when she came to a stop sign.

Harry:

No crying. Unless it’s happy tears, OK? Text when you get home, please 💕

She giggled all while sniffling as she typed out her response to him

Y/N:

Too late! 😭And I will. Night 💕

With that she went on her way and yes, there were tears but despite the challenges she knew would come, she was confident that everything was going to be just fine.

-

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Thanks for reading! If you liked this story…

Check out more of my writing HERE 🙂💕

[euphoricfilter]

hii!! i saw that you take requests? i was wondering if i could get a taehyung fluff where they celebrate their birthday! my birthday is Dec 31 and since his is Dec 30th i wanted something along the lines of like celebrating together alone bc my bdays have always been shitty and this year was the same so i want all the fluff you can give me please <3 if your requests r closed then that’s totally fine!!! i also wanted to say ur an amazing writer and i luv ur content so much!!

𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦:

pairing: kim taehyung x f! reader

genre: fluff || non-idol au || best friends to lovers au

summary: it was no secret that you had never been fond of your birthday, and taehyung hated that you always seemed to celebrate alone��� your birthdays won’t be the only celebration each year now that taehyung’s flower has finally bloomed.

word count: 3.6k

tags/ warnings: fluff, nothing crazy, mild birthday slander, reader is an over-thinker, he calls her baby way too many times, tearful confessions

notes: I FOOKIN FINISHED ON MY BIRTHDAY LETS GO! this is my gift to all of you, my lovely readers!!

✿ ✿ ✿

Taehyung’s feeling for you were akin to a flower.

The day the two of you met, planting the seed of his budding feelings. Where you acted as the sunlight he needed to grow; wherever you were, he would follow—growing in whichever direction you were. The first signs of his seedling pushing past the surface of the soil had been months into your friendship.

Minutes after midnight and you’d been stood at his front door, cheeks washed red from the bitter winter air, almost hunched over as you catch your breath; clearly having ran, even as the clock struck 12 and a new day began. You hadn’t wavered from your mission, silently hoping that Taehyung was still awake, because even if it technically wasn’t his birthday anymore, you refused to let the magic fizzle out just yet.

“These are for you” you’d thrusted the bouquet into his chest, pretty little white narcissuses and prickly holly wrapped up in brown paper, tied ever so delicately with a white satin ribbon, where the little red berries rivalled the colour of your cheeks. Perhaps just as round, temping enough that Taehyung had to stop himself from asking to sink his teeth into your supple looking flesh.

“I looked online and it’s your birth flower” you’d told him, standing up a little taller, a little more confident when you see his blooming smile.

“You did this for me?” he asks, bearing the brunt the frigid December cold as he pulls his door open wider, fingers gentle as they close around your wrist, tugging you into the warmth of his apartment.

You nod, hands cupping around your cheeks to try and warm your face up a little. Radiator in the hall sending waves of mellowed heat your way until you could feel the tips of your toes and fingers, nose no longer icy.

Taehyung couldn’t help but smile, and you couldn’t help but think he had the prettiest smile you’d ever seen.

Always so radiant, always so expressive, always so Taehyung, that you couldn’t help but think your efforts were worth it when he looked down at you like that. The miniscule pain of scouring the city for a flower shop willing to help you late into the night, and winds that had almost knocked you over, it didn’t matter because Taehyung was smiling at you like that. Pretty-pretty Taehyung and his pretty-pretty smile.

“Thank you” he’d laughed, “Thank you so much. How about some hot chocolate to warm you up?” he’d offered, and you’d agreed, how could you not?

The stem of Taehyung’s flower had grown fast, with every free weekend the two of you spent together, the little spark of developing love had burst into rapid flames.

Taehyung didn’t mind, revelled in the fact he felt something so raw about another person, never having felt anything like this before. He’d been unsure, fumbling over himself until he found his footing, worked out what you liked and what you didn’t. A little clumsy with his growing adoration until he sat back and realised the feelings he had for you were very real. A shadow in his mind weighing the consequences of acting on his emotions, because why would he fuck this up if he already had you? Maybe not in the exact way he wanted, but it was better than not having you in his life at all.

He wasn’t above dating, had milled around in high school, experimenting with whoever he pleased but nothing would ever be able to compare to what he had for you. An inexplainable warmth that blossomed throughout his body, where delicate vines weaved around his heart and the most beautiful flowers had started to bloom. Where the more Tae learnt about you, the faster he was falling.

He’d never been a fan of the term ‘falling in love’ something a little too melodramatic for his tastes, the very thought of falling for another person less romantic than it had been painted out to be. Because if his life were to be art, then he never wanted it to be the soppy kind, where you know the end is never good and the characters of the play seemed to always live in impending doom. Where only one will come out on top and get what they want while the rest suffer.  

He’d learnt falling didn’t have to be bad, falling—where you’re cushioned by clouds crafted with passion to break the fall. Where kisses taste sweeter and bare skin on skin felt electrifying. Where your mind bubbles over with thoughts of that person until you can’t help the smile that threatens to tug at your lips, and you want to make sure they’re stood by your side. Because as long as you were near, then that’s all he needed.

Taehyung’s favourite type of falling is when you work up the courage to look into his eyes. Always shying away from eye-contact, always a little fidgety when you notice him looking at you for longer than deemed proper for just a friend. He liked your eyes because you’d always been expressive, ever so easy to read, and ever so pretty.

Your outer beauty had only ever been a bonus to Taehyung, and if he had to compare your beauty to any of his favourite things, then surely, he would compare you to a freshly bloomed flower.

✿ ✿ ✿

It was no secret to Taehyung that you hated your birthday.

You’d always seemed to withdraw yourself from everyone the week before the big day, and he’d asked once, why you held so much disdain towards it, and you’d simply shrugged. Telling him you never understood the hype and never felt the need to make it a big event out of it. You never minded celebrating your friends’ birthdays, always going to family parties with well-thought-out gifts and a little skip in your step, but never held the same when it came to you.

“What are you doing here?” you open the door wider when you see its only him, fingers fiddling with handle out of nervous habit— and he watches as you rock back and forth on your heels. Clearly not expecting his arrival, and he would have called, if he didn’t already know you were home.

It’s a little out of character for him to show up to your apartment unannounced, knowing you preferred when he told you at least a few hours in advance that he was coming over, or he wanted to take you out. And as much as you hated the niggling habit of overthinking, it had never put him off, simply moulding his life around your needs as if they were his own.

Because as long as you were happy, so was Taehyung. Another strange side effect of being in love with someone he supposes.

“Can you come with me?” his hands fall out the pockets of his coat, corners of his lips tugging up into a soft smile.

You blink up at him, eyebrows furrowing, “Like— right now?”

“Yeah” he nods, feeble guilt itching under his skin. Like an invisible rash that he couldn’t get rid of, irritable in a way he wants to pull his hair out.

His palm lays flat against your door, pushing it open wider to let himself in. You don’t seem all that worried as you close the door behind him as he slips his shoes off, coat slung over the arm of your couch before he’s making himself comfortable, running a hand through his windswept hair.

He turns to you, “Go get ready, I’ll wait here”

“Where are we going?” you call over your shoulder as you wander into your bedroom, uncaring as you leave the door open.

“My place” he bends forward, trying to catch sight of you as you scuttle around your room. Always fascinated by the way you move, often painfully unaware of your surroundings. Though he doesn’t mind all that much, tips of his fingers tingling each time his hands fall over your shoulders or holding you by the waist has he help guide you, your hand held in his, so you won’t get lost in a crowd, or simply just for the sake of holding you. Your skin like a magnet, drawing him closer whenever he was near, your very existence fascinating to him that he can never seem to get enough.

“Huh?” you pause in the doorway, head tilting, and Taehyung can’t help the smile that stretches onto his face, fondness blossoming around his heart, “Why didn’t you just call me over then?”

“I have a surprise for you” he waves you off, watching as you nod, hesitant, but a small part of his heart swells at the fact you trust him enough to play into his plan even if he can see you itching to ask a million other questions. Questions he would be more than happy to answer, though he doesn’t push. Simply lets you stew in your own thoughts, trusting that you’ll kept your faith in him, stepping forward if you truly needed anything.

“But why?” you throw another sweater over your shoulder, “What should I wear?”

Taehyung pushes himself up off the couch, wandering towards your bedroom—more than equipped in knowing your home, often acting like it was his own.

“Whatever you’re comfortable with, baby”

You flinch, not having expected him to be there when you had turned around, “What are we doing?”

“I told you it’s a surprise” he croons, picking up the clothes strewn across the floor.

He folds them into neat piles at the end of your bed— ready for you to put away later as you continue your search for something to wear. Knowing that if he weren’t to do it, they would be left blanketing your floor until you worked up the motivation to finally clean up. At least this way he’d gotten your least favourite part out of the way.

“But what if I’m overdressed, worse, what if I’m underdressed?” you turn back to look at him, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt as Taehyung simply stares; never one to back away from prolonged eye-contact.

“Baby, I told you to wear whatever you’re comfortable with. We’re only going to my place, nowhere else if you don’t want to” he soothes, beckoning you over with a hand. And you follow, always so good for him.

You stand between his legs, looking down at Taehyung where he sits on the edge of your bed, “No matter what you wear, you’re pretty, yeah?”

Taking your hands into his own, fingers laced, Taehyung watches as your mouth opens at the gentle contact, closing abruptly when you can’t seem to find the right words to say. Mind whirring behind your eyes, and he worries he’d pushed you too far.

Hesitantly you nod, “Okay” you whisper, swallowing thickly as his thumb runs over the back of your hand.

“Well done” he squeezes your fingers before he’s nudging you back towards your closet.

He watches as you peek over your shoulder, not very subtle as you try and match what he’s wearing.

“How about we match today?” he suggests, watching the lingering anxiety leave your body as your shoulders deflate, eyes lighting up.

“Really?” you ask, grey sweatpants already held tightly in your hands and Taehyung smiles.

“Of course, baby”

✿ ✿ ✿

“Are your eyes still closed?” Taehyung asks, as he bends down, helping you slip your shoes off.

You hum, hands falling onto his shoulders to keep balance. And he suddenly becomes hyper aware of how close the two of you are, hands gentle as he holds onto your ankle, your warm skin under his fingertips electric as his heartrate picks up.

Your hands slide down his arms when he stands at full height, fingers loosely gripping onto his wrists as he pulls you further into his apartment; careful to tug you around the toys his dog had left strewn across the floor of the living room.

Your feet sink into Taehyung’s plush carpet, pitter patter of Yeontan running into the room at the sound of your giggles, warming Taehyung’s heart. Simple domesticity of the situation maybe something Taehyung had been craving; because when he had you like this, no semi high-end dining, no unobtainable expectations from the eyes of others. Simply you and him, where the world beyond his apartment meant nothing, because it didn’t matter where he was as long as he was with you.

“Here we go” Taehyung pulls his wrists from your hands, picking Tannie up, “Open your eyes, baby”

Taehyung watches as your eyes flutter open. You blink down at his coffee table, head tilting in confusion before you’re turning to him.

“What’s all this?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed.

It hadn’t been much, nothing like he would have truly planned if he didn’t know you had what could only be described as a weird hatred towards your birthday. He’d made sure to get your favourite cake, balloons taped to the walls, all those of your favourite colour—handpicked out of each pack. You eye the platter of sandwiches, and he has to hold onto Yeontan a little tighter as the dog spots whatever other of your favourite snacks he’s picked up that morning. All laid out in little bowls, where confetti had been scattered over the table like the petals of a rose.

“It’s your birthday” he urges, smile still tugging at his lips.

You nod, “I know that but, why—” you gesture to the cake, to the small giftbox, utterly overwhelmed by what you see, and Taehyung wonders briefly if he’d rocked your brain into overdrive.

“I thought we could celebrate together, I know you don’t really like your birthday, but I thought for once I’d do something for you, like you’ve done for me”

“You did all this, for me?”

And although this isn’t his best work, nice restaurant in the middle of the city ready to be called for a late reservation if you hadn’t liked what he’d prepared for you. Wallet tucked away in the pocket of his coat just in case he took you for a walk around the park where he would buy you all the treats your heart desired until your bellies were full, sleepy on the way home; and maybe he would offer to carry you.

“Of course” he nods, letting Yeontan hop onto the couch before he’s tugging you to sit at the coffee table. Knees pressed against one another as you sit adjacent to Taehyung.  

You peek into the cake box, “Shut up, you didn’t buy one of those really pretty lunchbox cakes” your look up at Taehyung, eyes wide and he only grins. You stare at it in awe, purple iced flowers climbing the sides of the cake, blooming in shades of lavender and violet in gradient. Where fondant leaves weaved through bunches of flowers like wild vines.

“This is for you” he pushes the wrapped box across the table towards you. Brown paper tied off with a pretty white ribbon—little white daisy pin stuck in the centre of the bow.

He watches as you shake it. Fingers delicate as you pull the ribbon apart, dropped in a small pile beside the box of your cake, and he only expects you plan to save it for later. Scraps of long forgotten art supplies hidden in the depths of your closet for when you really needed it. Always a little bit of a hoarder, though you like to blame it on sentiment.  

The tips of your fingers skim over the velvety box, a deep red with little golden stars embroidered into the fabric, “What is it?”

“Open it” his back falls against the couch, fingers thrumming across his thigh, anxious of your reaction.

You lift the lid of the box, bottom lip tucked between your teeth.

“It’s so pretty” you murmur, head lifting to meet Taehyung’s gaze.

You watch him lift his hand; matching ring sat snug on his finger. Your gaze flickers down towards the ring in the box, “They’re matching?”

“Yeah”

The corners of your lips tug up into a smile, “You’re cute” you giggle, gentle as you pull the ring out of the box, sliding it onto your finger, the same one Taehyung had his on.

“You think so?” he leans forwards, eyebrows raising in question, and he watches as you swallow thickly, “Come on, don’t be shy now” his smile is lazy, a little cocky and you can’t seem to help the heat that tickles your cheeks red.

He watches you debate whether to stay silent or not, “Yes” you breathe, tongue slipping past your lips to wet them.

“Yes what?” he urges, revelling in the way you fidget in your spot—fingers itching to pull you closer into him, moulding the two of you into one being until he doesn’t know where you end, and he starts.

“I think you’re cute”

“I think you’re cute too” he smiles, deft fingers tucking his hair behind his ear.

“You what?” you splutter, “That’s not funny, Tae”

“It wasn’t meant to be” you watch as he sits up straight, careful as he takes your hands into his own, “Why would you think I’d joke about that?”

His eyebrows crease as you let out a long sigh, “Because well, you’re—you’re you and I’m just me”

“There’s nothing wrong with you” he shakes his head.

“I’m not perfect like you, Tae” you try to pull your hands from his, no real force behind the gesture, fingers barely slipping from his grasp.

“I’m not perfect” he laughs, leaning forwards like he wanted to tell you a secret, “You are though”

You blink, “I’m not” he watches as tears glaze over your eyes.

“Come on, baby, why’re you crying” he coos, gentle as he pushes your hair out of your face.

“Because I really like you, and I feel stupid” you admit, one hand still held in Taehyung’s as the other comes to wipe your face of the tears that cascade down your cheeks.

“I really like you too” Taehyung stands, manoeuvring his way around the table, falling to his knees beside you.

“No—not that kind of like. I like like you” you cover your face with your hands.

“Hey” he calls, “listen to me”

You snivel, daring peek out from behind your hands, a new wave of fresh tears glazing your cheeks shiny as he smiles, always so soft, always so reassuring.

“I like like you too, my baby” he laughs, barely there, but the puff of breath deflates his chest, “Haven’t I made it obvious enough?”

You shake your head, “Now I feel really stupid” you cry.

“No no no” he shakes his head, cupping your cheeks, “I clearly didn’t realise either”

You hiccup, “I’m sorry”

“What for?” his eyes flit between your own.

You frown, “Crying”

“Don’t apologize for that” his eyebrows crease, fond smile pulling at the corners of his lips, “Can I kiss you?”

He watches as your eyes widen a fraction, “Yes”

His thumb brushes away a lone tear when you close your eyes, watching as a sliver of peace washes over your face. And he understands, of course he does. All the built-up tension, nights of wondering if your feelings were to ever be reciprocated, if this budding love was one sided, if it could be more than friendship—all that doubt had evaporated. Exasperated whispers of how this would never work out, suddenly silent, mind and heart free. Pure unadulterated love soaring the skies like a dove let out of a cage with no plan of ever returning, the feeling of freedom, the freedom to love you, too addicting.  

Taehyung feels you smile into the kiss as his lips press against your own. Ever so soft, neither of you rushing.

Your arms slink around his shoulders, pulling his body closer to you as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. Your lips part, gentle gasp dripping off your tongue, tacky and sweet as his hands skim down your body, pulling you in between his legs.

Albeit reluctant, Taehyung pulls away, chest heaving for air as his heart hammers against his ribcage. Your fingers skim over your bottom lip.

“One more” you whisper, hands falling from Taehyung’s shoulders to cup his cheeks like he had your own.

“Okay” he nods, hands still firmly holding onto your hips as you press your chests together, head tilting. Your thumb brushes over his jaw when your lips meet, both a little surer, a little more confident in yourselves, Taehyung teasing as his tongue prods the seam of your lips.

You grant him access, embarrassed whine following a moan as his tongue slips into your mouth—any qualms about you not sharing his feelings bubbling into a fizzy confidence.

“Does this mean you’ll say yes to being my girlfriend?” he smiles down at you, lips a little kiss swollen and shiny.

“If that’s okay with you” you nod, eyes falling onto the ring on his finger, your own glinting in the light of the setting sun that spills through the window.

Taehyung’s feelings for you were akin to a flower.

A flower that had been in the budding stage for years, love disguised as vibrance, hidden away from your eyes as to not scare you away, attracting you like a bee only hoping you’d be happy with that he had to offer. A flower that was now in bloom, because really what it was missing was you. Just wholly you who adores Taehyung as much as he does you. Two flowers blooming in the same flower field where your stems intertwine, growth from here on out together rather than alone. Because even if your petals were the same as the rest of the flowers that grew around you, what you had was special; something none of the other flowers had—each other.  

“Guess this means we have a reason to celebrate your birthday every year” he leans forward, soft kiss pressed to your forehead.

🌱 feedback is always appreciated <3 and thank you for reading!

permanent tag list: @m1sss1mp @supernoonanyc

[ladylynse]

A RC9GN ficlet that's a prequel to this three sentence fic, as my half of a fic/art trade with @imadumdumjewel.

In which Viceroy learns of his father's death.

Also on AO3

-|-

“He’s gone.”

Viceroy’s mother had never been one to mince words, but the death of Willem Viceroy II had practically stolen them from her entirely.

They’d been stolen from Viceroy too, clearly, or he’d be doing something other than staring blankly at his computer screen while still holding to his ear the phone he technically was not supposed to answer during work hours.

Not that he’d ever abided by that, especially with McFist. Work hours for McFist were hardly normal work hours. Viceroy made sure he was paid his overtime, and that overtime was substantial. If he didn’t take a personal call now and then, he’d have no contact with anyone outside of McFist Industries except when he dragged his sleep-deprived body to mundane places like the grocery store.

And he’d never been one to ignore his mother.

Typically, his parents never wanted to bother him while he was at work, always apologizing whenever they did, so when Eva had called now—

He’d known something must have happened.

When she’d spoken, the sudden pain inside him had solidified and settled over his lungs, making it difficult to breathe. He hadn’t been able to find the words to ask, but some part of him had known even before she cleared her throat and choked out a clarification. “Your father. He’s gone.”

What was he supposed to say to that? How? Why? When? His father hadn’t been sick. There had been nothing in the news in terms of accidents. Viceroy always made very sure that no WNDs ever tracked to that side of town, to the point that the old neighbourhood had gained the reputation of being a safe one to live in. His diligence meant the neighbourhood itself was turning around, becoming revitalized. His parents enjoyed—

No.

Not his parents, not anymore.

Now it was just his mother.

“Wim? You still there?”

Right.

He hadn’t said anything, had he?

“What happened?” It came out as a croak, though some part of Viceroy was surprised the words made it past the lump in his throat at all. It felt too large for anything to slip by, and the iron banding his chest was hardly helping matters.

He couldn’t see the computer screen in front of him any longer; it was all a blur of bright white and colour, even once he blinked and the tears started to fall.

“He wasn’t feeling well.” Eva’s words came in a rush, and suddenly one sentence was tumbling over the next like she was trying to get the words out before her voice failed her again. “I took him into the hospital two days ago, and he was feeling better after a transfusion. They ran their tests and thought he’d be discharged tomorrow. He didn’t want to worry you with it. It—” Her voice cracked. “It wasn’t supposed to be anything serious. His heart….”

She didn’t finish, but she hardly needed to. Viceroy knew about the family heart. It had taken Uncle Otto three years ago, his grandmother Maud before his parents had even gotten married, and had had Aunt Mila in and out of the hospital with one problem or another for years. His father had (had had) a pacemaker, but he’d always been fine beyond that. A little out of breath whenever he had to walk any distance, sure, and on a fistful of medications to manage potential problems before they could crop up and make things worse, but—

Viceroy hadn’t realized it was this bad.

He would have taken some of his vacation time if he’d known.

He wouldn’t have taken his last vacation in France if he’d known.

It had been six weeks since he’d seen his parents despite them living across town, and he’d only seen them then because he’d specifically made sure he could be there for his mother’s birthday supper. And to check in on Nicolas, technically, but they knew to keep him away from fire. They’d been as smitten with him as Viceroy had been—and still was—so when he’d asked if they’d give Nicolas a proper home in the first place and they’d agreed, he hadn’t been worried. Inability to take care of someone, even if that someone wasn’t strictly another person, had never been a failing of theirs.

“I-I should have been there,” Viceroy said, his words sounding thick and garbled as he forced them out. It felt as if a stone had lodged in his throat, and he had to take shallow breaths to avoid breaking down entirely. There was plenty of time for that later. If he just didn’t think about it—

But he couldn’t think about anything else.

Especially not right now.

His father—

Viceroy sniffed and reached up to wipe his face with a tissue before the tears could run any farther. Not that it would help much—enough tears had already tracked into his beard before he’d found something—but he’d need the tissue for his nose in a moment anyway. If he hadn’t been wearing his lab coat, he might’ve used his sleeve for the tears, maybe even for his nose, but just because he didn’t always work in a lab, it didn’t mean he wanted what was on his lab coat anywhere near the sensitive tissues of his face.

But that didn’t matter right now.

What mattered was that he should have been there and he hadn’t been. He hadn’t even known. Part of him wanted to lash out and say you should have told me, but he knew why they hadn’t. He was busy at work, he had all those important secret projects to do, they didn’t want to bother him— They gave him back the same excuses he gave them whenever he was using his work at McFist Industries to get out of attending family functions that turned his stomach into knots, and his parents added a few of their own excuses to boot.

He hadn’t perfected time travel yet—the latest attempt where he’d thought he’d gotten it right had turned out to be an unmitigated disaster, and the memory of the smell still haunted him sometimes—but even once he did hammer out all the kinks, going back to all of this would be less of an option for him the more he learned about the situation.

It wouldn’t be an option at all, really. He couldn’t simply not learn about this situation. He needed to know things. Besides, who knew how long it would take him to successfully time travel? Trying to slip back for one more visit would only help him if he figured things out soon, before he’d changed to a point that it would be noticeable.

Some rules were made for the breaking, but others were very much there for a reason.

Revealing anything that might be useful for the ultimate domination or destruction of the world had never been encouraged at MSU; too many other aspiring mad scientists had eyes and ears everywhere, ready to snatch up research or ideas to use for themselves. When Viceroy did perfect time travel, McFist would be the only one to know about it.

Well, McFist and the Sorcerer, because McFist was almost certain to tell the Sorcerer.

And Marci, come to that. McFist couldn’t keep secrets from Marci. Not without her knowing he was trying to keep a secret from her and letting him keep it despite that, anyway. But no one else would know, and that’s how Viceroy intended to keep it until he was ready to pull his big move.

He had no idea how he’d start any of that, though, and now wasn’t the time to try. He should get to the hospital. Or his parents’ home? Was Eva home? They’d given up their landline last year, so it was no surprise that she was calling from her cellphone, but—

“Do you think you can get tonight off?”

Technically, Viceroy was supposed to have every night off.

His mother knew it didn’t work that way.

“I’ll get off now,” he said. His own words still sounded hollow, distant, like he wasn’t the one speaking at all. Otto, chiming in that the newest WND was ready for testing, sounded more real than he did.

“No,” Eva said, and Viceroy wondered if she could hear Otto as well as he could. “We—I—know how busy you are. Tonight is fine. Mila came to stay with me.”

Aunt Mila had come. She lived half a day’s drive from here. When had she heard that her brother was in the hospital? When had she suspected she might not see him again if she didn’t go when she had the chance? When had she known that she’d been right?

Viceroy managed to say something in response, though he forgot what the words were the moment they left his mouth. Gratitude? Protest, an insistence that he come immediately anyway? Something that didn’t actually make sense?

Whatever it was, Eva accepted it, so it must have made some amount of sense.

Maybe he’d said I’ll get there when I can. He planned to get there when he could, and he planned for that to be almost immediately, but he still had to go through McFist.

Not drive, though.

Probably wouldn’t be a good thing to drive right now.

He’d borrow a Robo-Ape.

“I love you,” Eva said, and Viceroy echoed it immediately. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d said it to his father; he wasn’t going to ignore the opportunity to say it to his mother when it was true in both cases.

Eva hung up, and Viceroy found himself listening to the dial tone. When he did finally hang up, he stared numbly at the phone in his hand. He’d had opportunities to see his parents in the last six weeks. Why hadn’t he taken them? Why had he always made excuses? Why had he always counted on the fact that there’d be another time, when he was a little less busy, a little less stressed?

Otto piped up again with, “Construction on the Robo-Spider is completed, sir. It is ready for testing. Would you like to commence testing?”

Viceroy put a hand to his chest instead of answering. He could feel the hole that had opened inside his heart like the entire thing had been gouged out of his chest, and it ached. Digging his fingers into his flesh was a different sort of pain, but it did nothing to negate the abyss inside.

“—ider is completed, sir. It is—”

“Otto.” It shouldn’t be this hard to talk. Viceroy cleared his throat, blew his nose, and tried for something louder than a whisper. “Halt all WND construction and testing for the week.” He wanted to say two weeks, but he wanted a job to come back to, and taking two weeks without telling McFist first would involve grovelling. He could update the order remotely once McFist knew.

McFist might not want to wait, but he’d wait if he knew what was best for him. If the Sorcerer convinced him to override Viceroy’s orders, fine. The man wasn’t a complete idiot. He shouldn’t manage to destroy the town just because Viceroy was taking an impromptu vacation. If nothing else, the Ninja would take care of things.

Viceroy had high hopes for his WNDs, but he did not have high hopes for projects where he didn’t have the last word before they were deployed.

Unfortunately, with McFist’s eagerness, the latter was more common than the former, and the Ninja had only grown more competent. Somehow.

He was also incredibly lucky, which really seemed to be the determining factor in most of his battles, but Viceroy was sure that luck would run out one day.

But not in the next week.

Viceroy was not unlucky enough for that to happen in the next week. Or even two.

Viceroy took a deep breath as he finally pocketed his phone, hoping that would steady him, but it shuddered in and out of his chest like each smaller breath had before it.

Maybe he’d just leave McFist a note. Give it to a Robo-Ape to pass on. Then he wouldn’t have to try to figure out how to say any of this. He wouldn’t have to say anything. A sticky note would do. He’d be able to write legibly enough without being able to see perfectly clearly. All he’d need is a line or two, maybe three. Taking a week’s leave for a family emergency. Maybe two. WNDs not ready for deployment.

It was McFist.

Viceroy didn’t need to be eloquent.

He scribbled the note, buzzed for a Robo-Ape, and returned to his desk after passing off the note to rest his head in his hands. He just…. He needed a minute. Maybe more than a minute. He couldn’t—

How could his father just be gone?

Viceroy felt the lump growing larger in his throat as tears swelled again in his eyes. No. He couldn’t break down now. Later. It had to be later. If he didn’t think about it for now, he could get through these next few minutes, and then the few after those, and then—

Then—

He’d never gotten the chance to say goodbye.

Viceroy wiped at his nose again and sucked in another breath, pushing the thought away and raising his head. “Otto.” Why did his voice have to crack? “Arrange for a car and driver to be out front in ten minutes.”

That should give him enough time to assure himself that the important processes were winding down correctly and nothing would explode in the meantime. He’d leave his lab coat on its hook at the door and leave the rest of his things where they were; there wasn’t anything he needed to take with him that he didn’t already have. He hadn’t had lunch, true, but his planned lunch had been coffee, and he didn’t have the appetite for even that right now.

For all that his stomach had decided it didn’t need to make itself known, though, the clawing ache in his chest was only growing worse. He was going to get to his parents’ place (his mother’s place) and take one look at his mother and start crying all over again. He wasn’t sure he could be the strong one for her. They’d have to be strong together.

There would be so much to do. Calling the rest of the family would be well underway by the time he arrived, he was sure, but there was talking to the funeral home and arranging for the burial and everything involved with the ceremony itself (the date, the location, the casket, the flowers, the service, maybe a second service, the officiant—and the plot? Had his father ever bought a plot at the cemetery? Had he picked out a specific one if he had bought one?). And they’d need to write the obituary and get it into the paper, and then deal with the bank, the lawyer, the accountant. Get copies of the death certificate. Get bills and titles and whatever else switched over to Eva’s name, anything that wouldn’t transfer automatically.

They wouldn’t have to worry about food, at least. Viceroy knew his relatives, and he knew his parents’ friends. As soon as the news spread, they’d receive enough food to feed a small army.

It was getting easier to breathe.

If Viceroy just focused on what needed to be done instead of why it needed to be done, he could get through the next two minutes, and then the next five, and maybe the next five after that.

Viceroy had nearly finished checking over the production plans when the door to his lab slammed open, which only meant one thing.

McFist was here.

“Do you have a real family emergency or did you get some crazy idea into your head like baking a birthday cake for your beard?” McFist demanded.

Viceroy could hear him stomping across the room, but he didn’t bother looking over. McFist’s ramblings didn’t really deserve an answer. A family emergency was explanation enough.

“You’re not taking a week either way,” continued McFist. “We can’t just shut down production of the WNDs. I promised the Sorcerer—”

He broke off, and Viceroy looked over at him. He’d finished up the important stuff, anyway.

McFist’s anger, always so blatant in his features when he was upset, was no longer etched into every line of his face. Instead, something that might actually be genuine concern had settled there. “We on a deadline for the end of the world? One of your old college buddies do something you can’t turn to your advantage?”

Viceroy tried to smile. He wasn’t sure it came across as a smile. “I wouldn’t call it a family emergency if that were the case.” His voice sounded thick, almost hoarse, and he expected that he didn’t look any better than he sounded. He sniffed and tried clearing his throat again. “I’ll be taking my two weeks.”

“One,” countered McFist, but the usual growl wasn’t in his voice. “And a half.”

Viceroy nodded, locked his computer, and got to his feet.

He’d get the full two weeks in the end regardless of what McFist said now. If nothing else, Marci would insist on it when she found out. Viceroy was confident in that much.

“I’ll get you a car,” McFist said as Viceroy strode past him towards the door.

“I’ve already got one waiting, sir.”

“You’re not supposed to—!” McFist cut himself off, and Viceroy looked back at him from the door as he removed his lab coat. “Right. Well.” McFist glanced at Otto, which had entered power-saving mode and settled onto the desk when Viceroy had locked his computer. “Anything in this place going to run without you?”

“It would be best if you waited for my return before attempting the capture the Ninja, sir.” That wasn’t precisely the answer to McFist’s question, but it was the answer he needed to hear.

McFist grumbled something under his breath. Then, “What about a progress report?”

Viceroy smiled—not because he particularly felt like smiling but because McFist had asked for the one thing he could get without Viceroy’s help, and it was a relief that his last request was an easy one. “Ask Otto to print one for you.”

Viceroy didn’t stick around to see how the printing went.

For the first time since his trip to France, he put work completely and utterly out of his mind.

Of course, without that to occupy his thoughts, they inevitably returned to his mother’s call and the hole that had been left in his life with his father’s unexpected absence.

It didn’t feel real yet.

He suspected it wouldn’t feel real until his father wasn’t there to greet him with the usual pat on the back.

But even that thought—

Viceroy drew in a careful breath, blinked back tears, and tried to maintain a semblance of control until he was in the car and headed for his parents’ place. He wasn’t sure he’d been entirely successful, but no one had stopped him. The Robo-Ape driving him had politely inquired if he wished for conversation and had kept his silence when Viceroy had declined, but that was protocol. He’d speak if Viceroy was the one to strike up the conversation now, of course, and Viceroy thought perhaps he should, just to keep his thoughts from spinning, but….

He needed this time. This silence. Loss was a weight, he was realizing, and though it was lodged in his chest, it hadn’t properly settled. It would weigh him down either way, constant as the heartache, but he wouldn’t get a proper measure of it until it had sunk in.

It wouldn’t drown him.

Objectively, he knew that.

There were too many others with him, too many who would keep him close and help him keep his head up. There was comfort in that. He wasn’t alone, and he wouldn’t be the only rock for his mother, either. But he still—

He still felt lost.

Viceroy leaned his head against the cool glass of the side window, ignoring the occasional jostling of the car as best he could, and let the tears fall where they would.

He’d get through the rest of today, somehow, even when everything he saw reminded him of his father and he had to face anew the realization that they’d never have another conversation, another laugh, another bet.

He’d get through tonight, even though he already suspected his thoughts wouldn’t settle long enough for him to sleep a wink of it.

He’d find a way to get through tomorrow and the day after that, too.

He’d just need to live his life in little moments for the foreseeable future, tiny chunks of time that didn’t seem as insurmountable as an entire day, let alone anything beyond that.

Yes.

He could find a way to do that.

For his father.

(see more fics)

[cardigcn]

tell me more about layla and jamie.

hi anon! thank you so much for asking about my original characters, i'd love to tell you about them!!

so, layla is the youngest daughter of melinda and jim but it was after jim switched into sam's body so techinally her genes come from sam, so she shares sam's DNA. her fc is lili reinhart (also EDIT: lili is just a temporary fc, because idk if i like her for layla so i'm searching for a new one) and she is born just after the show ends, around aiden's six birthday. just like her mother and technically "half brother" she has the abilty to see and communicate with spirits but her powers aren't as strong as her brothers which she always feels leaves her as an odd one out. she's very smart and is going to school to become a doctor like her father and unlike her brother, has always been closest with jim growing up and sometimes butts head with melinda the most out of the two of her parents. more headcanons to come, but i haven't rped her much but i would love to!!

for jamie, he's one of my fav original characters i created for a grey's rp a while back and i've just added him to my multimuse because i loved him so much!! i'm going to put his information under read more because it's very well thought out and i don't want to clog up the dash!! this is for his main verse, which is set in the grey's anatomy world but i will edit it when it's not the middle of the night to fit every medical show!!

jamie was born in orlando, florida and is the oldest out of three siblings. he has two younger sisters who he gets along with pretty well. growing up, jamie was always the protector in his family, feeling like his was his job to look after them and make sure no harm ever came to them. when jamie was 16, he was in a car accident and broke both of his legs. it was a rough recovery, but he made it through stronger than ever and it was then he decided that he wanted to go into medicine. after jamie graduated in high school, he was accepted into stanford and moved all the way to los angeles. he attended both college and medical school in the warm state. while also doing his residency there, before moving to seattle where he was offered a fellowship as a trauma surgeon.

jamie takes his job more seriously than most surgeons do and it’s something that he’s proud of. he’s worked hard to get where he is now and he wouldn’t change it for a thing.

ten years ago jamie met a woman named emily while he was an attending in flordia. they both were working in the same emergency room, with jamie as the head attending and she was the on-call nurse most of the nights.as they got to know each other, jamie knew that she was the one he wanted to spend his life with and ended up proposing about a year after they started dating. a year later, the two of them got married.

emily ended up deciding to go back to medical school as she dropped out a year before she finished due to a family emergency at the time and jamie was supportive of her all the way. everything was great for the couple, until jamie was offered a job here in seattle for head of trauma 6 years ago. the couple moved to seattle together and bought a lovely house. everything had settled in just fine, when they found out emily was pregnant.

jamie was over the moon and couldn’t have been happier about the fact that he was going to be a father, but he could tell that his wife didn’t feel the same way. over the next few months, they had decorated the nursery and gotten everything ready for mia to arrive but emily wasn’t as excited to become a mother as she was to become a surgeon. a few months after mia was born, jamie woke up to find a note from his wife saying that she just couldn’t handle being a mother anymore and she needed to focus on herself and it wasn’t fair to either of them. a few weeks later he was sent divorce papers in the mail.

jamie never understood how she could just leave, but to this day he’s grateful for his daughter and wouldn’t change that for the world.

[messers-moony]

Wish | F.H

Paring: Five Hargreeves X Wife!Reader

Summary: Five storms out to time travel after an argument with his wife and comes back to an unexpected surprise.

A/N: Five time travels at the age of 26 instead of 13

He was angry, that wasn’t mistaken, “ You aren’t listening to me! “

“ Are you hearing yourself?! What you’re about to do is dangerous! “ She yelled in response, and he scoffed.

They stood in the main room of their apartment. Y/n was placed in the kitchen leaning on the island while Five was dangerously close to the door. Both of them at the age of twenty-five. They had gotten married only a year before finding each other during one of his trips to Griddy’s with his siblings. He thought she was the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

Five stalked closer to her, “ You are so stubborn. “

“ I am the strongest one. “ His voice was dangerously low as they stood only a foot apart, “ I will do this. I don’t care what you say. Nothing will change that. “

“ Five, please. “ Y/n begged, “ I’m- I’m just worried about you. “

“ You don’t need to be. “ Five snapped, and he fast-walked to the door.

The male swung open the door, “ Five wait, please- “ But before she could finish, the door slammed, “ I’m pregnant. “

It was new news. She didn’t find out until a week earlier. She didn’t know when to tell him; there never was a suitable time. Now he had just threatened to fulfill a lifetime goal of his– time travel. Since he was a boy, he’s wanted to prove his worth. The only way Five could think to do that is by time-traveling into the future. He didn’t know what the future would entail. He definitely didn’t plan to get stuck in an apocalypse.

So for nine torturous months, Y/n endured a pregnancy. She was carrying a child of her presumed to be dead husband, which she didn’t believe in the slightest. Five Hargreeves was alive, and she knew that regardless of what anyone told her. She had a baby boy who she named Malachi. The same bright, alluring green as his fathers.

Despite his birth father not being around, Diego was a significant help. Diego stepped in where Five couldn’t. He was there for all of Malachi’s firsts and everything in between. But he was always Uncle Diego. A constant reminder that this man wasn’t his father. As far as the little boy knew, he didn’t have a father.

Things got more tricky as he got older. Malachi realized that a father figure was more common than not, which brought raising questions. She answered to the best of her abilities, but nothing was ever valid. None of her answers could be a hundred percent true because she didn’t know either. It was killing her to see her son this way.

He longed for a father. Wanted nothing more for a father-son relationship. Every birthday, every Christmas, he wished for his father to come home. It was killing Y/n because she understood his pain. The amount of dread, guilt, and sadness.

Maybe if she had told Five sooner, he would’ve never left. The guilt ate away at her. It was like an insect slowly crawling its way under her skin into her bones and nibbling them until they were gone. It didn’t help Malachi was an exact replica of his father. The dark, almost raven hair parted to the side, the glittering green eyes and a defined face.

No matter how long Five was gone, Y/n never took off her rings. She was a married woman until proven otherwise. Malachi had never even seen photos of his father. That was normal to him. All he knew was that his Uncles and Aunts told him he looked the exact same. Despite the same appearances, they had clashing personalities.

Malachi was the sweetest guy you could ever meet. Kind no matter who the person was. Wise beyond his years and intelligent like no other. His strong suit was English while he struggled in math. The irony was amusing. His father excelled in math, but he couldn’t do a two-step equation if he tried.

In the grand scheme of things, this didn’t matter. He got all the way up to high school. He was seventeen, to be exact, in his junior year of school. It was the summer before his senior year, and he couldn’t be more excited. As the years went on, the hope of meeting his father diminished to the point where he didn’t even think about it anymore.

He had his mom, and that’s all that mattered. His mom was his rock, his number one supporter, and his best friend. Malachi loved his mom more than anything and would give anything to keep her safe. Diego had grown to be like a father to him, but it was never the same. Malachi was sitting at the island doing homework while Y/n was cooking.

“ Hey, mom? “ He called, “ Yeah? “ Y/n turned to look at her son.

Malachi fidgeted with the pencil in his hand, “ Can I- Can I see your rings? “

“ My rings? Why? “ She asked, “ Well, dad gave them to you, didn’t he? “ Malachi replied.

Y/n nodded, “ Of course he did. We were married, technically we still are married. “

“ I just wanted to see what dad gave you. “ He murmured.

Hesitantly Y/n twisted both her engagement ring and her wedding ring off her left ring finger. She set them down on the granite island before her son so he could look at them. Gently he picked the engagement ring up and looked at it. It was the only time he’s ever seen the ring this close. She never took them off.

“ We got engaged in the snow. “ Y/n informed quietly, “ I really wasn’t expecting it. He never seemed like one to settle down. “

Malachi listened intently, “ Regardless. It was almost Christmas, and he took me to go Christmas shopping at one of the malls which was outside. “ She chuckled, “ Why he did that, I don’t know, but it was amusing. We got hot chocolate despite his love for coffee, and I made him wear a Santa hat. “

“ He was never into festivities before meeting me. Neither were your Aunts and Uncles. I started making holidays become more festive when you were born. Eventually, they got the hang of it. “ Y/n continued, “ Why was dad's name a number? “ He interjected.

“ He never got a name like the rest of his siblings. “ She answered plainly, “ Why? “

Y/n sighed, “ His father, more specifically your grandfather was a cruel man. Still is a very cruel man, which is why you’ve never met him. Reginald made the Umbrella Academy, where he adopted your dad along with his other siblings. “ She explained, “ They endured long days of training without breaks and horrid living environments. They were treated as experiments rather than children. “

“ They all got names, but Five didn’t want one. He rejected it because it didn’t matter. Name or anything. Their numbers would always define them, and Five was the only one who understood that. “ She finished.

“ What really happened to him? I know you’ve given me vague explanations, but I think I’m ready for the real thing. “ Malachi stated, “ I’m seventeen now. “

“ I know. Your father had powers. His others siblings do as well. They all do certain things. Five could travel through space and time. “ Y/n began, “ Growing up, he always felt the need to prove himself, to be better than everyone else. “

“ So, one day, he told me he was going to time travel. It was a big argument that definitely didn’t need to happen. At the time, I was a week pregnant with you, and I didn’t know how to tell him. “ She swallowed the emotions arising after remembering Five’s glare,

“ When I told him, it was too late. He was already out the door and gone. “

Y/n walked forward and took the rings back. She placed them back on her ring finger carefully as her son watched every movement. He knew she was upset. Malachi couldn’t help but be a bit resentful towards his father. All this to make a point? It seemed far-fetched.

“ That solution seems a bit absurd. “ Malachi commented, “ That's what I was trying to tell him, but he was very prideful and stubborn. “ Y/n replied.

A knock echoed through the apartment. The room felt tense. It wasn’t right; something felt off. Malachi felt it immediately cause he stood up and began walking to the door, wanting to protect his mother if a threat was there. Secretly Diego may have given him some defense classes, but that didn’t matter.

The boy opened the door to see almost the exact same face staring back at him, “ Who are you? “ Malachi snapped.

“ More importantly, who are you? “ The man retorted.

Every hair on Y/n’s body stood up. She knew that voice, and she knew that tone. It was him. He was back. It took everything inside her not to scream or cry but seeing Malachi hold his defensive stance against his own father was worrying her.

“ Malachi. “ She called, and he turned to her as she began to walk to the door, “ I need you to go to your room and promise not to eavesdrop. “

He wanted to protest, “ Please, sweet. I’ll be okay. I promise. “

Reluctantly Malachi backed away from the door giving the man a harsh glare that made the man evidently tense. Y/n waited for Malachi to be fully retreated in his bedroom before looking at the man in front of her.

“ Well. It looks like you’ve moved on. “ Five murmured, “ No- please. It isn’t what it looked like. “ She pleaded.

Her hand took his, and he recognized the rings on her finger. The same rings Malachi had just been examining. The same rings he took months to search for to find the perfect fit for his perfect girl. Everything seemed so colorful in his greyscale world now. His wife was still his.

“ Who- Who is he? “ His voice trembled as his lingering suspicion felt more accurate than ever, “ Come in and sit. We need to talk. “ Her voice was gentle and held no malice.

Five entered the now unrecognizable apartment. It wasn’t the same as when he left. In fact, everything seemed moved out of place. Y/n walked to the stove and turned off the burner that she was using. Five had peered at the papers on the island that were math worksheets and took a seat beside them.

“ Where did you go? “ She asked, “ The future. “

“ No shit. What did it look like? “ Y/n retorted playfully, “ It’s not as I hoped. It’s an apocalypse, love. “ His voice held so much pent emotion it was almost radiating off him.

She sighed, “ Okay. We need to talk about that- “

“ I- I want to know who that kid is. “ Five interrupted, and she gave him a knowing look, “ Malachi, can you come out here. “ Y/n called, and instantly he was out of his room.

The boy stood beside his mom, still not comfortable with the unfamiliar man. This time Five got a chance to really look at the teenage boy in front of him. The defined face, the almost raven hair, the same sage green eyes. His posture was protective and territorial, obviously for his mom.

“ Y/n… “ Five began as he swallowed the tears in his throat, “ Is- Is he mine? “

She nodded, “ Five Hargreeves, I’d like you to meet your son, Malachi Hargreeves. Malachi, I’d like you to meet your father, Five. “

[mieohmy]

𝖢𝗈𝗆𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝟣𝟢𝟣 | 𝖫𝖾𝖾 𝖩𝖾𝗇𝗈

PAIRING: lee jeno x reader

GENRE: angst, fluff, humor, comfort, established relationship au, college au,  this rly is just a self indulgent fic kjasdfk

WC: 2.1k

NOTES: slight argument/fighting ?? , cursing

SUMMARY: jeno wants your attention, your comforting presence, your love- he simply wants you.

for the bday boy that i treasure sm! happy birthday to puppy jeno <333

ღ

The phone next to you lies untouched, and practically has been for days- or has it been a week already? I mean, it wasn’t your fault that upcoming finals had been taking you to the depths of hell, and you had no choice but to lock yourself at home to study for a week on end. 

Which brings you to day 7? 8? of being holed up in your room all day, memorizing a bazillion tiny printed words and trying to cram as much information as possible in that overworked brain of yours. Getting about 4-5 hours of sleep a day, you couldn’t remember anymore- or even care to remember. Not to mention the added stress that came along with being any normal college student. Wasn’t life just wonderful?

You feel bad for everyone that has tried to contact you over this stressful period in your life (since you completely turned your phone off to eliminate all distractions), but the urge to stop studying completely and just check up on the real world and all its happenings grows stronger. You breathe in -out, constantly chanting ‘self-control’ over and over again in your head. Then your eyes slowly open, and you slap yourself one last time as if to say ‘get it together' before diving back into the books.

Just two more days. Two more days and you can finish and not have to stress about finals until results come out. 

At this point, you were surviving off of coffee, tea, random stolen snacks that your boyfriend would bring over from his dorm. 

Damn, when’s the last time you had a proper meal? Monday?

And then you frown. What day even is it today? You glance at your calendar and- 

Goodness grief, it’s Sunday already. 

You almost have a midlife crisis over wasting basically a week doing nothing but sitting at your desk and looking at words, but then again at this point- you’re just over it and want to be done as soon as possible. 

But soon, a weird feeling arises after you recall today’s date- like you were forgetting something. You place a hand over your forehead. Was there something important today? 

And as if the universe read your mind, the doorbell rings.

A giant wave of confusion washes over you. Was someone supposed to come over today?

-and you just completely wiped it from your mind?

You’re still running through your memories as you walk to the door. No, it's not Chae since she has finals too...

Opening it, you’re not at all expecting who was behind it. 

“Jeno-?”

He blinks back at your wide eyes, expression turning concerned, and you rub your temples in exasperation and defeat. 

“Oh, did we have a date today or something? I’m so sorry- I totally forgot.”

His eyebrows furrow. “No, I was just supposed to come over to hang out with you....”

“It’s been so long since we last talked, baby. You haven’t responded to any of my texts. What’s going on?” He promptly adds, staring intently at you. 

You let out a sigh, and jeno notices your tense shoulders and dark under-eye circles. “I thought you knew. Finals are coming up so I’ve been stuck at home cramming for about a week now actually.” 

His frown deepens. “I did know. And still, y/n..” he says in a warning tone. 

You know what his voice implies, you’ve heard it plenty of times at this point, but right now you don’t have to energy to listen to his nagging. “ I know, I know. Just- come in, I guess.....”

To be completely honest, you wanted to send jeno back home- there was still a lot more information left to cover and you obviously weren’t in your best condition, but he was the one who actually remembered your ‘date’ and drove to your place, so you would feel even worse making him go all the way back to his dorm. 

Jeno easily follows you in, biting the inside of his cheek to hold back any comments while examining your place even though barely anything has changed since he last visited- mostly because there was nothing to change when you were in your room all day. 

You walk to the kitchen, getting your boyfriend some water while yawning. Meanwhile, your mind is drifting away, thinking about what topics are left that you have to go over later. “What are we even doing today?” 

Jeno plops on your couch, arms behind his head. “I don’t know. A movie?”

You hide your grimace, immediately thinking of how much time would be wasted watching one, or possibly even more if jeno was feeling it. In the one to two hours of a movie, you could be done with chapter two and three-

“Y/n??”

Your head snaps up. “Yes?”

“Are you gonna come over here or just stand there in the kitchen all day?” he teases.

You shake your head to clear the fog and join jeno on the couch. Scrolling through the options, you automatically snuggle up next to him, eyes blearily watching the moving tv screen. 

He decides on this one animated film, and you’re too drained to pay attention so you simply nod and let the movie begin. But even though you try your best to focus on the storyline and what’s currently going on, your mind keeps wandering off to other, more boring things- your studies, obviously. 

The number of chapters you covered, the slight of chapters you have left, how long you would have to stay up to finish going through your planned amount of information  -all the stressful thoughts swirling in your head, and it only exhausts you more. 

You let out a sigh, and jeno turns to you. “Are you okay? You’ve been sighing nonstop since we started the movie.” 

You clear your throat, biting back a yawn. “Oh- yeah, sorry. I won’t do it anymore.”

Your boyfriend stiffens but doesn’t say anything, attention returning to the flashing screen in front of him. 

You did try. You really did. But your eyelids keep drifting shut and your head keeps slowly lolling forward and snapping back up -it’s not until your forehead accidentally knocks against jeno’s chest that he finally speaks up again. 

“Y/n. You need to take a break and get some sleep. Now.” His tone is sharp and commanding. 

You snap your eyes back open, vision blurry. “No- it’s fine. I’m good, let’s keep watching.” 

The immediate switch in the air is scary, jeno swiftly reaching for the remote and pausing the movie to look at you dead straight in the eyes before setting it back down with a loud, clattering noise. “You need to rest. I can tell from how tired you look, and I know you’ve been studying for so long, so why is it that hard to just relax for a little?” 

You groan, distress breaking through. “I can’t, okay? You already understand how stressful school is and how important my upcoming tests are. I know you’re just trying to be kind and thoughtful but-“ 

“But what?” He cuts you off, the frustration he’s been hiding for a while finally revealing itself. “Taking a rest from burning your brain out isn’t going to kill you, y/n.”

Your hands at your side clench and unclench, a wave of emotions overcoming you. “I know that. But I can’t afford to have a break now.” Everything suddenly feels overwhelming, and your voice comes out strained and uncontrolled. 

“I’m almost there, jeno. It’s so close, and if I stop now, I’ll feel like a failure.”

He laughs a short and echoing bark. “How do you think I feel? I was trying to brush everything aside and act like it was all fine, but it’s certainly not when you’re like this.”

You falter. 

Jeno gets up, making direct eye contact with you even though his body is trembling and his voice is shaky. 

“I spent the past week just lying in bed and worrying about you- if you were eating okay and getting enough sleep. I was constantly texting you reminders to take care of yourself, only to find out from your friend that you turned your phone completely off.  Do you know how shitty of a person I was feeling? I didn’t want to be a distraction to you because I know how much you care about your grades, but it’s killing me, y/n. I want to be there for you, but instead, I end up feeling like the worst boyfriend in the world.” 

He shudders before continuing,

“And then I come here, brushing off all my worries since I was super excited to finally be with you after so long, and then I have to see you in such a bad condition. Barely taking care of yourself, barely even surviving on your own just so you can pass your exams that I know you’ll already do well on no matter what. As your boyfriend who wants to help and be here for you, do you know how much my heart hurts?”  

He finishes, but not before wiping away the frustrated tears that appeared in his angry rant.

It takes one beat -two beats, before you immediately spring up, rushing towards jeno and throwing your arms around him. 

He accepts it, burying his face into your shoulder and wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. 

The guilt courses through your body, and you understand. The consequences of your actions hit you, hard, and you know you deserve it all. Jeno just wants to know that you’re here. You’re here with him.

“I’m really sorry,” you murmur into his hair, “I’m really, really sorry, jeno.” 

You hate the fact that you can still feel the slight wetness of his tears soaking through your-technically his- shirt. You pull back, looking straight into his eyes to make sure he knows you’re being genuine.

“I promise to pay more attention to myself, and I promise I won’t ever let it happen again. I won’t shut you out anymore... and you can come over to take care of me whenever you want, okay?”

Jeno slowly nods, and you softly wipe away the corners of his red eyes of any wetness.

He pulls you closer to him again, inhaling your scent one more time, and you finally let yourself go. 

After about a minute of just enjoying each other’s warm embrace - one that you feel like you haven’t felt in so long- you allow yourself to smile and pull back just enough to place a kiss on his cheek. 

“Was my baby just lonely and missed me too much?” you sing in a soft voice. He lets out a disgruntled noise in response, shaking his head against your body. 

But you both know what the answer is.

“C’mon, let’s go to bed.” You tug his arm easily to your room, putting off your studies, at least for today.

“You’re really gonna take a break this time?” Jeno asks, eyeing you carefully. 

You grin. “Yes? Besides, I know you’re always down for cuddles.” 

You drag him to the bed, taking his arms and wrapping them around your body as exhaustion quickly fills you. 

You fight yourself to stay awake as long as you can to enjoy jeno’s presence, but he notices and hugs you even closer if possible, whispering softly, “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

And before you finally drift off, you sleepily murmur, “I love you, jeno. Like, a lot.” 

Even after you fall asleep in his embrace, he stares down at you, softly kissing your forehead.

I love you too. 

bonus bc i adore jeno too much :

“Jeno- for the last time, you’re not a bad boyfriend.”

“I know.... but-“

You shut him up with a quick kiss.

“You’re the sweetest.”

Another kiss.

“Funniest.”

Peck.

“Handsomest.” 

His ever so growing smile freezes. Jeno looks at you, a surprisingly solemn look on his face. 

You raise an eyebrow, confused. 

“......even more than Nam joo hyuk?”

Ah. He had to go for the favorite actor. 

You swallow, battling an intense internal war before begrudgingly nodding. “Okayyy...fine. You are.”  

He crosses his arms. “I’m what?”

You roll your eyes, whining. “I already said it!”

Jeno shakes his head firmly. “Say the whole thing.”

You take a deep breath in, internally apologizing to your beloved actor. “......you, lee -verymuchanannoyingbaby- jeno, are more handsome than Nam joo hyuk.” Your sentence is finished swiftly in one breath, words slurring together. It actually pains you to say that. But it’s good enough for your boyfriend. 

Jeno delights in the squeal you let out when he picks you up in his arms to spin you around. 

“Fuck yeah- take that, nam joo hyuk!”

ღ

a/n: anyways im going to go hide away and cry over jeno now ^^

[writing-in-april]

Birthday Spankings

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: A normally shy reader decides to tease Spencer on his birthday thinking she could get away with it. Based on this request

A/N: who am I? Releasing two dom Spencer smut fics in a row 😱 lmao 😂 this is all for MGG’s birthday! Happy birthday to The Gubes 🥳 Actually pretty cool day cause both MGG and Oscar Isaac both actually have the same birthday 🥳 I decided to use this request that I’ve been meaning to write and add it with a bit of a birthday twist!! Thanks for reading and requests are open!!!

Warnings: 18+, Dom!Spencer, Shy reader that acts unexpectedly bratty, Reader wears glasses, Impact play, Degredation, Penetrative sex, Use of the nicknames Doll & Sir

Main Masterlist Word Count: 2.6k

“Hey, birthday boy.” There was no need for me to speak quietly as it was still quite early in the morning, but my default voice was still at a soft volume.

Spencer looked up from the crossword puzzle he had been solving like a race with a soft smile directed at me. He definitely did help me come out of my comfort zone a lot, but whenever he looked at me with softness as if he was adoring me I couldn't help but feel a bit of shyness bubbling up.

I was painfully shy around almost everyone in my life, except Spencer. When I had joined as an assistant technical analyst for Garcia I was in stark contrast to her bright and bubbly demeanor. For a long time I didn’t connect with anyone on the team, just did my job as was described to me and only spoke when I needed to.

The event that had gotten me to come out of my shell a little happened to be when I was reading a book that Spencer had loved. He launched into a full rant about the book that I had barely even started immediately when he saw the cover. When he had realized he’d spoiled the book he had apologized profusely. In a rare moment of bravery I told him he could take me to a bookstore and buy me another book as repayment, albeit with my head hanging low speaking so softly that Spencer had to ask me to repeat myself 3 times. Though, it was really just an excuse to get him to talk again, I loved listening to him talk. Ever since then we had been joined at the hip, even beginning to date two years ago. I often helped him become more grounded in the world he often said and it was quite obvious to everyone around me that Spencer helped my confidence bloom.

I will admit he could be a little possessive as of late though not in a bad way, especially after coming back from prison. But, I was still extremely surprised when he came up behind me subtly in the room while I was making the first cup of coffee for the both of us in the morning and I felt a tap on my ass. He must have finished his crossword puzzle.

I yelped quietly in surprise, it didn’t hurt, it had just been unexpected. I turned to face him with a bemused look on my face quirking my eyebrows up shyly in question. My shy befuddled look was in stark contrast to his smirking face making me peek up and smile a little. At least no one had been around, Spencer was brave just not that brave.

I wasn’t sure what made me a little bit more bold today, maybe I thought I’d get some leeway for brattiness because it was his birthday. Honestly, I don’t know why I thought I could get away with it, it was his birthday after all, not mine. I still decided to push up my glasses a little before speaking smoothly with a little more confidence than normal,

“Isn’t it the tradition that the birthday boy is the one that’s supposed to get the spankings?” Spencer’s face was one of shock at first, not used to a snap back from me. Once he recovered from my unexpected remark a dark look that I almost never saw directed at me came over his face letting me know without any words that I was in for it tonight. I wasn’t going to get my normal soft but dominant boyfriend tonight.

Spencer then confirmed my thoughts when he leaned in closer behind me slightly pushing me into the counter and then whispering into my ear, “ I hope you know what you just got yourself into, Doll.”

His presence then left me to go back to his desk, making sure to grab his sweetened coffee I had been making for him along with mine. Making sure he did make sure to spank my ass one last time, this time much harder than the first. Yeah, I was definitely in for it tonight.

I looked around to make sure that no one had been looking towards the break room, luckily no one had been. My cheeks were hot with residual embarrassment and my heart still pumping loudly with adrenaline from getting the courage to say a sassy sentence to Spencer. I tried to mask my embarrassment by bringing up my own coffee to hide my face which also fogged up my glasses a little. I will admit that the rush I felt when I had finally gained the courage to sass back to Spencer made any punishment I was going to get tonight worth it. I even was slightly looking forward to the birthday spankings I was definitely going to be getting.

——

When work came to a close I was soaked through my panties already in anticipation. Spencer had been casting me looks throughout the rest of the day, it had made me so desperate I had wished I had gotten the courage to make a snarky comment later in the day so I wouldn’t have had to wait for some relief. Though, to be honest I was partially anticipating not being able to have any relief at all tonight by the way Spencer had been looking at me. Even when everyone had been singing happy birthday he had been looking at me as if he was deciding how he was going to take me apart later.

When I got the text at the end of the day that he wanted me to come to his apartment I felt myself get increasingly flustered. I knew I should’ve just stayed in my lane as a good girl who did everything for her dom. My flustered state was so noticeable that the rest of my co-workers had even noticed, which was telling considering my normally shy demeanor translated to flustered.

As soon as I shakily opened the door with the spare key Spencer had given to me on our last anniversary I was greeted with the tall imposing figure of him standing at the end of the entryway.

His slow walk over to me caused me to drop my purse over being intimidated, it was a good thing though because I was positive I had never been so soaked before.

Once he reached me he tilted up my chin with one finger and spoke with a calmness as cool as steel, “You’re going to do as I say tonight, I’m going to punish you. If you speak out of turn once I won’t let you cum for a week.”

Your confidence in your bratty behavior from early had all but completely deflated at those words. He had edged me before too and I had done it many times before, never for so long though. I definitely knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it.

“Yes, Sir.” I spoke firmly to emphasize that I wasn’t playing around anymore, I was ready to listen like I normally did.

“Just a few simple words and you’re so easy to tame?” You nodded with a whimper and averted your eyes away, embarrassed with how quickly he could bring you back to your usual behavior. He reached forward to push up your glasses that had slipped down your nose a little which also refocused your gaze back on him before he spoke again, “I knew you’d be so easy, you’re always so desperate to please me and- yourself. I knew as soon as I threatened to take it all away you’d come crawling back doll. ”

He enveloped me into a harsh all consuming kiss that there was no escape from, not that I wanted to though. He easily dominanted the kiss while also running his large hands through my hair and tugging harshly to pull me closer. Suddenly he broke the kiss, leaving us both panting and he touched me jaw again. This time he gripped it hard before giving me another command that I was ready and willing to follow,

“I want you to ride me tonight, it is my birthday after all. I want you above me while I look at you fucking yourself on my cock, just desperate to cum while you service me.” I whined at his words, hoping that I’d get to cum. But, I had never really been bratty, the only spankings I had gotten before this was because I asked for it. I whimpered in wonder about whether or not Spencer was going to give me the chance to cum or not. Spencer seemed to understand my nonsensical plea then speaking with a condescending tone, “Oh no, you’re not going to get to cum tonight until I see if you regret your bratty behavior, little doll.”

He hauled me up onto his lap after basically ripping down my panties and skirt to straddle him when he sat down onto the couch, which happened to be the closest surface suitable for what Spencer wanted to do to me right then and right now.

He ran his fingers through my folds collecting my juices, teasingly rubbing my clit for a second of relief before popping his fingers into his mouth to get a taste. “Mmm, you taste wonderful. Want to taste?”

“Y-yes, Sir.” He already knew my answer though considering he had already pulled my hair to tilt my jaw back causing me to stutter while running his hands through my folds again. Once he got his finger sufficiently wet again he shoved his fingers into my mouth with no warning, gagging a little in response. He pumped his fingers in and out of my mouth until he was completely satisfied how I had sucked the juices off of his fingers, until drool had been escaping the corners of your mouth.

Again he rubbed my clit in a teasing manner before speaking, “You’re already so wet you're practically dripping, I could just slide right in.”

It wasn’t too long until he had and he was right he did slide right in, my walls gripping him like a glove.

I was only allowed a moment to adjust before he prompted me to start moving by saying, “I’d like my birthday present now.”

I began to bounce on top of him as I had done many times before. At one point I had tried to take my glasses off to make myself perhaps more comfortable but was met with a light growl telling me that he wanted them to stay on. After a while I had created a rhythm for long enough that I was wondering when my punishment was going to come, I already had a pretty good idea what it was going to be.

A harsh sound cracked through the room suddenly confirming my suspicion, he had spanked me hard. My hips stuttered from shock, then stopping completely reeling from the harsh slap.

“Call them out, Doll.” He sharply spoke after landing the second blow onto my other cheek.

“2-2!”

“I’ll let that one slide but call them out clearly next time.”

My hips were burning as I tried to focus on rotating them properly while he started to lay in on my ass. It also was difficult to focus on making sure I was calling out the spanks with some semblance of clarity.

“12!” “13!” “14!”

Number 14 had been the harshest one yet making me cry out so loud in the back of my mind I was concerned that maybe his neighbors would call the cops. Though the burning pleasure echoing through me wasn’t letting me voice my concern to Spencer, all I cared about was trying to hold off my orgasm that I was already dangerously close too despite being so far off from the finishing number.

When tears started to prickle in my eyes Spencer looked up at me with slight worry, breaking the scene a little. I hadn’t gotten near my breaking point yet so I nodded for him to continue, I only had about 10 more to go.

“24! 25! 26!”

When my hips started to slow down slightly because of the stinging pain from his spanks he gripped my hips hard which I was sure would leave another kind of mark that I’d wear for a while.

He released his hard grip with one hand to continue the count to the magic number, how many years old he was today. I willed myself to continue counting because I knew I’d just get myself signed up for more, maybe even starting back from zero— I didn’t know if I could handle that and successfully hold off my orgasm.

“36!”

“37!”

“38!” The last stinging slap cracked down like a whip to my ass that was no doubt probably would make it hard to sit for the next week, hopefully not more.

I was hoping to get relief from Spencer by letting me have permission to cum but, when he asked the next question I realized he wouldn’t let me off so easy, “Do you think you’ve earned it?”

“No, sir I haven’t but I’d really like to cum please?!” I knew I hadn’t begged enough in his eyes, I knew I hadn’t earned it yet, but I was just so desperate to finish. His cock was running up perfectly against my g spot hurtling me precariously close to the edge.

“Say your sorry.”

“I- I’m sorry, S-sir!” I stuttered out in desperation which was usually not something Spencer would have tolerated, I think he sensed that I wasn’t going to last any longer with the edging and being no longer physically able to control it.

“Ok, Doll you can cum, since you decided to follow my directions so well.” As soon as ‘ok’ had left his lips I stopped holding my orgasm back out of pure exhaustion. It was so devastatingly good, ripping through every nerve in my body, that I barely noticed Spencer finishing as well. I only felt the last few ropes being pumped into me after the majority of my orgasm had passed.

Our panting breaths mingled as I leant over to kiss him while I rocked my hips to drag out the last dregs of our orgasms. The kiss ended up being more messy than I intended but I was just desperate to feel his lips on mine again.

Spencer gripped my lightly jaw once he had caught his breath some and turned my head to the side to press a kiss below my ear before speaking softly, “Such a good girl.”

“Thank you, sir.” I whispered back with another characteristic whine from me that was a little pathetic on my part, I had been ruined by him for sure.

We basked in the presence of each other for a little while, just enjoying being tangled all together. Though after a while the stickiness between my thighs got a little too uncomfortable and Spencer started the main part of aftercare for me. He seemed a little caught up in his thoughts while he started to clean me up so I prompted him with a little boop on the nose to silently ask what’s wrong.

“Did I go too far?” The worry he felt was evident by the tensing in his shoulders where he often seemed to hold his worry.

You quickly interjected as he began to stutter out the beginnings of an apology despite not letting you answer yet, “If you had, I would’ve used my safe word.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief as he resumed my aftercare, making sure I was well taken care of and pampered to perfection. We were sitting in a bubble bath when I finally realized something, I hadn’t said Happy Birthday to him yet.

“Happy Birthday, Spencer.”

I said while I was straddling him and I could already feeling him getting ready for another round, though this one would surely be gentler than the last as to not irritate my ass anymore. Despite my still stinging backside I was glad I stole Spencer’s birthday spankings.

—-

Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

All works:

@shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg

Spencer Reid/CM:

@calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes

Dom Spencer (new tag list):

[aphrodite-would-be-proud]

Hey hey I saw your Armin like erens S/o and that made have feels😡😡 so now please...give more angst- Like Eren finding out Armin likes reader and decide s to talk please 😩😩✌️

You asked for angst so...i went the whole way there.

I think this can technically count as my first Eren x reader fic but i don't think I'll list it as an Eren's fic. He still ain't getting his own subcategory.

You're dating Eren, he finds out Armin likes you.

{ Armin x reader, Eren x reader | tw:cheating accusation, tw:arguments, tw:unhealthy-frienships, tw:lowkey-toxic, tw:bad relationship, tw:angst without comfort | heavy angst, no comfort, drama | modern }

{ "Calais Pier" 1801 by Joseph Mallord William Turner 1775-1851 }

Laying on the couch, Eren was scrolling through his phone while occasionally taking bites of the chips he digged out of Armin's kitchen. His finger stopped just as he reached a certain post from Historia

"Ymir's birthday is this Wednesday?" He said, glancing to where Armin was sitting on the Armchair.

Still typing on his laptop "yeah" Armin said, eyes focused on the screen.

"Huh...didn't take her for a birthday party kind of person" turning off his phone, Eren headed towards the nearby kitchen.

"Historia's the one planning it." Looking at the half full bag of chips Eren left, he frowned, "aren't you going? Also why do you keep eating my chips when you don't like the taste."

"Already went to Mikasa's birthday 4 days ago, and because I forget how bad they taste each time." Closing the fridge, Eren went to look through the cupboards instead. "Why do you have so much fruits in your fridge?"

The sound of typing slowed down, "that's the thing about birthdays Eren, each person gets their own day." Soon the typing stopped as he began proof reading his email, "my grandpa sends them to me."

Coming back to the living room empty handed, Eren sat back on his spot. "Either way, I have a date with y/n on that day"

"Oh" Looking away, Armin couldn't focus on the words on his screen anymore. "I hope you two have fun."

"We will." Eren said, staring at him for a second before looking away too.

Finally finishing his work, Armin set the laptop aside. "i just think it'd be nice to hang out more."

"hang out?"

"yeah like we don't see each other as much as we used to, a birthday is a nice excuse to hang out."

Staring directly at him, Eren crossed his arms. "uh huh, and just hang out?

Scratching the back of his neck, Armin met his gaze. "...well what else is there?"

The silence lasted seconds too long, an uncomfortable feeling growing slowly between them. It was Eren who broke it first "nothing, just... nevermind."

Not satisfied with the asnwer, Armin moved to sit next to his bestfriend on the couch, attempting a form of comfort. "Eren are...are you okay, you've been acting pretty...uh strange lately."

Resting his cheek on his hand, "what do you mean?" Eren said.

"You've been...distante lately, not spending as much time with us and being late or canceling last minute whenever we agree to meet up." Armin tried touching the other's shoulder, only to let go when Eren stiffened up.

His reply was so quiet, Armin wouldn't have heard if he wasn't sitting as close. "you're one to talk."

"what?" Armin tilted his head, wondering if he misheard something.

"I'm just saying, isn't it hypocrisy to criticise me for something you're already doing?" With narrowed eyes, Eren doubled down.

"I'm not criticising you, I'm just concerned for you."

"when's the last time you visited Armin? My mom has been asking why you suddenly stopped showing"

Feeling like something's stuck in his throat, Armin swallowed. "...I've been busy, work has been piling up and-"

Getting up from the coach to stare down at his friend, Eren didn't let him finish talking before saying. "yeah don't give me that work bullshit, I know for a fact it's just excuses. It never bothered you before so why now, it's like you've been lying to get out of things ever since…"

Fist grabbing in the pillow near him, Armin just stared up at Eren, the feeling in his throat intensifying.

Stepping closer, Eren was almost towering over the other while standing up. "Ever since y/n and I started dating."

"What are you talking about" Not wanting to face him, Armin stared at his feet instead.

"you know exactly what I'm talking about" Eren said, jaw clenched, "Jean told me everything."

That seemed to get Armin to meet his gaze "Jean?"

"yeah, of all people. Why did I have to know about this from someone else?" Putting space between them, Eren looked away in disgust, "all the letters, late night calls, good morning texts, gifts... I'm not stupid"

"believe me you've got it wrong" desperation in his voice, Armin was struggling to stay calm, "whatever Jean told you it's probably things Mikasa didn't know how to explain well-"

"Mikasa ? I didn't hear it from her." Interrupting him again, Eren seemed to be growing more agitated by the second.

Looking lost, Armin said "what? But I only told-"

"did she know about this too? And still kept it from me?" running his hand through his hair, Eren took another step back.

Standing up, Armin took a few steps towards him. "I asked her to, she was just trying to help."

Just looking at him made Eren's blood boil. "helping you with what Armin? Sleeping with y/n behind my back? Yeah what a real good friend she is." Not wasting any time in cutting the distance between them, "Keeping the fact y/n has been cheating on me with my best friend." He said in Armin's face.

"That never happened! Mikasa would never do that and you know that." Not backing away, Armin stood still.

"Mikasa would never, but I'm not stupid enough to believe you wouldn't do it Armin." Pressing his lips into a thin line, for a second Eren looked more hurt than angry, "I thought we were best friends, were you ever going to tell me?"

Attempting to touch his shoulder again, Armin said. "do you really think I would do that to you? Do you really think y/n would do that to you? Is this how little you think of me? 

Only to be pushed away again.

"I don't know what to believe anymore" putting back the space between them, "I didn't want to believe Jean till I've seen proof with my own eyes. You're lying. "

Hands tightening into fists, "if you'd just calm down and listen then maybe-" Armin stayed near the couch.

Getting impatient, Eren said. "No. Don't-" only to be interrupted by a pillow thrown next to his head.

"You think y/n would cheat on you with ME? Really Eren? You think y/n would choose me over you? In what world would that happen, we both know i have no chance." Struggling to hold back his tears, Armin felt all his frustration pouring out.

Seemingly unimpressed with the other's outburst, Eren just scoffed. "There you go again with that self pity! I Don’t want any of your pathetic excuses, all you do is whine."

"Yeah? And all you do is get angry and yell." Shaking his head, before continuing, "that's why Mikasa didn't tell you, she knew you'd act exactly like this."

"I have every fucking right to be angry-"

"stop pushing everyone away, you're acting like a selfish self centred child throwing a tantrum." Interrupting him again, Armin didn't look away this time, "You just want to pick a fight without listening to what I have to say.

Attempting to lick his lips, Armin tasted saltiness, only realising then his tears have been pouring for a while.

Not wasting the chance, Eren pushed even more. "I'm the child ? At least I'm not the fucking crybaby in here. Remember Armin? When you grandpa-"

His eyes were burning again, throat aching in shame. "Don't- please don't bring it up."

"why? What are you going to do about it? Are you going to cry even more?"

His vision getting too blurry to see, Armin wiped his face with his hands. "now you're just being-"

"I don't care about your opinion on how I'm being, no one asked for it." Whatever guilt Eren might have felt he pushed away, "You didn't seem to care about mine before going to fuck the person I'm dating-"

"I DIDN'T, WHY CAN'T YOU BELIEVE ME." Having used all his remaining energy to yell that, Armin sat back in defeat on the couch feeling too overwhelmed.

Eren stared him down as he collected himself, waiting for an explanation to follow as he leaned back against the wall.

After a minute, Armin began talking again. "yes I wrote y/n peoms and letters, yes i called really late at night and yes I looked at them in a not so innocent way, but I've never ever done anything inappropriate."

Eren stayed silent, only looking at him in an unreadable expression.

"Yes I liked y/n while knowing you're dating , and i fucking wished they'd like me back. Yes i have feelings for them but y/n did nothing to betray your trust neither did i cross any lines. "

"...how long have you been bottling this up."

Hesitante to answer, Armin couldn't meet the other's eyes anymore. "Before you started dating...even before you met actually. I've been planning to confess to them but...it was too late. I take full responsibility for this I'm really-"

Finally seeming to calm down, Eren moved from where he was standing. "I don't want your apology. So y/n didn't cheat on me?"

Shaking his head, Armin replied. "No...it's just me."

Another full minute of silence passed before Eren grabbed his Jacket from the couch, his phone too. "would...you've told me if y/n did it?"

Armin look at him, confused. "What?"

"Cheating on me, from your speech you seemed to be hoping for it to happen." Walking to the door, he began putting his shoes back on.

Armin didn't know how to reply, he just sat there.

"can you deny it? Can you say you've never hoped for y/n to leave me for you?"

He was speechless, Armin couldn't even attempt to form an answer.

"that's what i thought, what kind of freind are you? You act like you're the bigger person yet you were just waiting for me and y/n to break up for your own selfish desires" Opening the door, Eren stepped outside, "And instead of talking about it you just try to avoid me forever? That's your genius plan Armin?"

Having followed him at the last second, Armin was standing next to the doorway." I didn't know what else to do, i couldn't just watch you and y/n from afar knowing i could've had that! It was torture!"

"real mature, attempting to steal the person your best friend's dating"

"Steal? You're the one who got between us in the first place. Since day one you've done nothing but hog y/n at every chance you got."

Getting up in his personal space, Eren said. "If you had a problem with it then why the fuck didn't you speak up Armin?"

Why didn't he speak up? That's something he's been asking himself every night before falling asleep. "I wanted to, I just-"

"just what? Be honest for once in your life, no one forced you to stay silent, you chose to." Eren looked at him.

Did he? Every action you don't change is something you're choosing...Armin couldn't even look at him.

But instead of waiting for him like every time, Eren just stepped back, slammed the door shut before walking away.

[bruhlsbees]

paradox burning ; 1/5 || ernst schmidt x fem!reader

summary: after the fight between volkov and schmidt, you comfort schmidt in his quarters

pairing: ernst schmidt x fem!reader

warnings: over the clothes touching

word count: 4,666

taglist: @itsametaphorbriansblog

a/n: if you haven't read the preview i would suggest reading that first to understand the vibe of their relationship better!! chapter two will be up tonight!! just wanted to get this out as i've been lacking content these past few days since i've been celebrating my birthday. hope you enjoy and as always if you want to be added to the tag list let me know!

“TAD throttle control, 8636. Line secure.”

Mother Mary be with us...be with Mama and Papa and sissy and Joe.

“Accelerator system status?”

Father give us the strength today, for we have dove into the depths of space to restore humanity as we know it.

“It’s holding for pre-ignition.”

Look after everyone down below on Earth - for times are dark and the sun does not appear to be rising anymore.

“Shepard team, you are go for countdown.”

I pray that you forgive all of our sins, Father, as we have learned our lessons and strive to move forward in honoring thy.

“We’ve all got our fingers crossed here at Mission Control. Let’s make this first one count.”

And help guide us through these troubling times and help everyone remember why we are up here.

“Status boosters?”

Is this Hell, Father?

“Go.”

Have you damned us all to Hell?

“The GNC?”

To pay for our sins?

“Go.”

Tell me, Father...

“Power up.”

Are we damned?

“Commander, Shepard team standing by for your go.”

Perhaps we are and this is where are days will end.

“On my count…”

Among strangers and empty.

“Three…”

Away from family...

“Two…”

Away from friends…

“One…”

Alone in our own thoughts.

“Mark.”

God, help us all.

TWO YEARS LATER

You awoke with a start. Gasping for air as you tugged at your tank top, as if the thin material was suffocating you. Not giving yourself time to process what had happened, you threw your legs out from under the warm covers and let the cool air hit your bare legs, your elbows resting on your knees with your head in your hands, catching your breath.

This was the second week in a row now that you’ve woken up from a nightmare. Drenched in sweat and tears spilling from your eyes. It was always a reimagine of the previous one. If you dreamt of your father dying one night, the next it would be your mother. This night, it was your own life that you dreamt slipping away. Your finger pads swiped away the tears that fell down your cheeks before sliding onto the cool flooring, clasping your hands together to begin and pray.

“In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit…” You began, crossing yourself as you settled on your knees, eyes closed and hands squeezed together tight. “Heavenly Father I ask that you watch over Mama and Papa...sissy and Joesph, and all those back home,” You cleared your throat, choking down the tears as you continued on once more. “We have been onboard for over two years and I miss everyone dearly. I hope to speak with them soon as Joesph is teaching Mama and Papa how to use video call.”

Even with all the photos that you had around your room, all the videos that you had programmed in to watch whenever you pleased, you were beginning to forget simple things - like how they smelled, the warmth of their hugs, and how they always tried to pawn your younger siblings onto you. You were always so mad babysitting them, losing out on time with your friends, but now...now you wished that you had the chance to babysit them, to be with them once again.

“Father, I ask that you forgive me for my sins, guide us through this mission, and take us home. All of us. Let this mission go well, and we can save Earth. Amen.”

You crossed yourself a final time, bringing your cross necklace from your chest where it sat and to your lips, kissing the gold piece of jewelry before standing up from the floor.

This was an everyday routine for you. Waking up, saying your morning prayer, taking a shower, and being down for breakfast by 08:00. It was early, you knew that, but you enjoyed having the calmer moments before everyone else woke up.

When you entered the bathroom, you went straight to the shower, turning the handle to let the warm water spute out. You were tired, swaying gently in your stance as your eyes grew heavy. The sudden spitting of water struggling to get out woke up, making you jump as you watched the water pressure went from weak to strong.

You pushed down your shorts from that night, pulling your tank top above you, and stepped out of your shorts, dropping the tank top on the floor before stepping into the shower. You were pleasantly greeted by the hot water, sighing as it hit your back and began easing the tension in your muscles.

Morning showers for you were always dangerous - either it could go very well and you’d be out in minutes, or it could go bad and you’d end up falling asleep leaning against the wall. On this particular morning, after dreaming of your own death, you did not wish to fall asleep again, scared of what could come from your slumber. You quickly washed yourself off, massaging your scalp as you washed your hair before taking the toothbrush you kept in the shower, opening up the tube of toothpaste, and began brushing your teeth.

It was such a mundane routine - almost finding it boring the longer you were onboard. Perhaps it was your schedule that was down to the second of when you did things. You never were one to be so particular about your schedule, having one so precise, but after a year of pure chaos on board, a mundane routine is what kept your little sanity still hanging.

When you were finally ready for the day and changed into your suit, you slid on your shoes and pulled your hair back into a low bun, tucking some of the loose pieces of hair behind your ear before heading out of your room and down the hall, going towards the common room to join the others for breakfast.

By the time you made it down to the common room, you were only the third to arrive - Mundy and Acosta beating you to it.

“Well look who finally decided to wake up!”

From your spot at the bagel machine, you looked over into the game room where Mundy and Acosta stood playing foosball, Mundy looking all too proud - indicating that he perhaps was winning. On the other hand, Acosta looked tired, almost too tired to be playing a game of foosball so early with Mundy.

Letting out a laugh, you shook your head and turned your attention back to the bagel, sighing once it finished before pulling it out from the machine and placing it on your plate. You truly didn’t understand how half the stuff you consumed was edible, but you supposed it beat other things you’ve seen those in space eat.

Taking a seat in your spot at the table, your back facing Mundy and Acosta, you brought the bagel to your mouth and took a bite, maybe a little bigger than what was more polite, but you didn’t care, you were starving.

It was the Commander who came in next, greeting everyone with a morning as he got his own breakfast before sitting across from you at the other end of the table. When the two of you locked eyes, you nodded, continuing to chew your bagel before looking down, not wanting to draw too much attention to the fact that you had a shit night.

You were pleased when Commander didn’t seem to notice, glancing occasionally into the lounge room where Mundy and Acosta continued to play foosball, Acosta finally gaining the upper hand on Mundy for once.

One by one the rest of the crew began to show: Volkov, Tam, Schmidt, before eventually Hamilton joined as well. When Schmidt came in, walking beside Tam speaking in Mandarian about what you assumed to be something related to the Shepard power accelerator. As the two sat down with their breakfast, Schmidt looked over your way, his mouth twitching into a smile before his attention fell back to the screen pad in front of him that Tam was holding.

You listened in on their conversation, picking out what you could understand through the technical language the two spoke on. As a medical crewman, you weren’t familiar with all of the technology onboard, only the ones related to the medbay that you primarily worked in. You went to school for medicine, exceeding expectations in your classes, and found yourself working for military hospitals since. It came as a surprise to you when they asked if you’d like to be a part of the Cloverfield station. What business did you have going up in space?

When you told your family about the news, they were proud, no doubt, that their eldest child would be going into space to directly help with the ongoing energy crisis. It was evident how proud they were of you, but also how worried with you going into space. You lived with your parents and younger siblings your entire life, leading up until your departure for the Cloverfield station. Separating from your family was hard, and having them not understand how to work even something as simple as a video call hurt more.

Your sister, Mila, would be sixteen now - learning how to drive and preparing for her final days in school before going into higher education, if that’s what she wanted. Your brother, Joseph, would be twenty-three now, doing who knows what with his young man mind. You hoped he wasn’t getting into trouble, or knocking some girl up...although the idea of having a little niece or nephew to come home to didn’t sound all that bad.

But your parents, how were they doing? They were older, growing slower as the days went on. Were they still making it through all of this? You assumed Papa was still running the family shop downstairs, selling candies to the little children of Lapovo - whatever children were left in Lapovo that is.

Mama though, how was she doing? You couldn’t imagine how worried she was, probably baking her troubles away in the kitchen. You missed waking up to her cooking, smelling the sweetness of baklava and sarma. She always wrote you letters while you were away either at school or on the military base that was outside of Lapovo where you worked. Now that you were in space though, sending letters just didn’t happen.

Perhaps tonight you’d try and see if Joseph was online and able to chat.

Everything had been going peaceful that morning, which you enjoyed after the sleep you poorly had. That is until Volkov finally spoke up.

“Six hundred and ninety-four.”

Looking up from your bagel and to your left where he was at, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as Volkov screwed the water bottle back closed, making his way over to the table to join the rest of you.

“Six hundred and ninety-four days I’ve kept our O2, CO2, N2, hydrogen, water vapor and methane at optimal levels.”

Congrats, what did he want, a fucking cookie?

You watched as Volkov stood on the other side of the table in front of Schmidt, almost directly talking to him. There was always something going on between the two of them, and quite frankly it annoyed the living shit out of you. You felt like a mother some days, scolding Schmidt for clearly egging Volkov on - him and his damn anger issues.

It was no different today, as Volkov began his tangent on whatever it was he was about to lay into you all, Schmidt was sitting across from him, a smirk on his face.

“You know how many pressure leaks we’ve had? Not one. No microbe overgrowth, nothing. You know why?”

“This is a long speech, Volkov.” Schmidt quipped, reacting in you rolling your eyes and pushing your plate forward, leaning back in your chair with your arms crossed over your chest, wondering where this would be leading to next.

“Because I disinfect the decks every seventy-two hours.” It was Acosta to interrupt Volkov this time, stating that he was actually the ones to disinfect the decks. He was right, you couldn’t remember how many days you spent helping him, on your knees scrubbing at the decks.

It seemed finally everyone was growing annoyed with whatever Volkov was getting at, Commander Kiel finally stepping in and stating that if he had a point he wanted to make, he should make it now.

“There’s one part of this station. One part that is not working. This is interesting, do you know what part that is? The Sheppard Accelerator.” Volkov continued, not seeming to be in any rush to get out what he wanted to say.

In Mandarian, Tam finally intervened, claiming that eight billion were counting on us and asked what his point was. You could agree, what was this all about?

It was then that Volkov stated that he didn’t have a problem with Tam, but with Schmidt - ‘her German boyfriend’. You couldn’t help but snicker at the comment, clearing your throat just as quick, hoping nobody heard. But someone did, and it was Schmidt, giving you a look that screamed ‘you’re not gonna find that as funny later’.

Everything began to really go downhill from there, nobody seemed to be able to get to Volkov and stop him before he said even more that he would regret. Hamilton directed him to go back to his quarters only for him to snap back that she wasn’t his mother. Commander and Mundy even jumped in, trying to calm him down, but nothing worked.

“Two years on this ship, and this man has delivered nothing,” Volkov pushed on. You hadn’t noticed it until then, but Schmidt had moved from the table and was now standing only feet away from Volkov. You felt your heart begin to pound as you watched the two men. Two men with strong anger issues at only breakfast time, something more than just a disagreement on the way to erupt.

“Volkov, enough!” Schmidt snapped, glaring forward at him. “You need to think very carefully about what you’re saying.”

There was a brief moment of silence, and you thought maybe, just maybe Volkov actually shut up for once. But that brief moment of silence was just that, and he was back to speaking, this time more quiet than before.

“We’ve both heard the reports,” Making his way closer to Schmidt, “Germany is preparing for war, Serbia taking alliances with Germany, and everyday that goes by more and more Russians are starving.” The comment made your heart stop for a moment. That was just a rumor, in all of your messages with Joseph, not once had he mentioned going to war alongside Germany to be true.

You didn’t know why you felt the sudden urge to cry, but you did. Bringing your fingers to your mouth, you began to bite down at the skin around your nails, chewing away at the flesh until you tasted the iron of your blood. Nobody outwardly spoke badly to you, besides the occasional poorly landed joke from Volkov, but you couldn’t help but feel like an outcast, wondering if people really thought you were what Volkov said you to be.

By now Volkov was in Schmidt’s face, the two men radiating their own heated anger off one another, tension filling the room, making you feel like you did in your nightmare, suffocating. You pulled at the collar of your suit, taking the zipper and unzipping the front enough to get yourself feeling less trapped.

“Maybe you’re not in a hurry to get the Shepard working. Is that it? Are you stalling us to help Germany get the upper hand? What about you? What are you doing in the med bay alone, mixing something up for us to take? To slowly kill us?”

He laughed, he actually laughed when he looked at you, a shit-eating grin on his face.

It all happened in a matter of seconds. When Volkov turned back towards Schmidt, it was only half a second before Schmidt’s hand wrapped around Volkov’s throat, pushing him back before sending a punch across his face. Volkov was quick to regain his posture, grabbing at Schmidt’s own throat and shoved him back towards the corner, both men trying to pin one another against the wall.

When the scene unfolded, you stood up in shock, mouth gaped and you took a step to the side to try and do whatever you could to help, but felt someone grab your wrist. Turning, you looked down to see Tam’s hand before looking up at her, watching her shake her head ‘no’ and to just wait. And you did, it took everything in you to stick by her side, but you did wait.

Commander was the one to grab Schmidt, pinning him onto the table with his face squished onto the glass. Mundy, on the other hand, held Volkov in a choke hold, keeping him restrained while the Commander lectured the two men - one of which was still trying to get the last word in.

“Keep your mouth shut, Volkov!” The Commander finally boomed, causing the room to come to a standstill. “We have a job to do.”

The room finally fell silent, both men seeming to be relaxed enough for the Commander to think they were free to be broken from their restraints.

“Now, can you two get along for just one day without us having to pull you off of one another?” Moving back, you watched as Schmidt laid on the table for a moment, almost debating on if he wanted to go at it with Volkov again. He decided against it and finally stood up, fixing his shirt before shooting a glare towards Volkov, knocking past him and out of the common room.

You gave it a moment, smiling over at Tam when you felt her squeeze your hand. You nodded her way, squeezing her hand back before you quietly slipped away, moving down the hall quick to go and find Schmidt.

It took a while for Schmidt to really calm down, so it wouldn’t be a surprise if the Commander didn’t rush the test that you were all supposed to conduct that day. It was bad enough everyone was stressed, but having someone be stressed and pissed off just wouldn’t work. You could almost bet that the reason the outburst that morning even happened in the first place was because of the high tensions on board, especially leading up to the next test.

If this test failed, they only would have enough for three more tests. After that... well, they could kiss humanity goodbye.

It didn’t take long for you to find Schmidt, in his quarters struggling to get his suit on as the zipper seemed to be stuck. He was mumbling something in German and you couldn’t piece together what he was saying other than the occasional ‘fuck him’.

When you stepped inside his quarters, the door shutting behind you, he paused his moments, his hands on his zipper, not wanting to look at you. You took a hesitant step forward, not wanting to be on the other hand of his outburst, before stopping once you were only a foot away from him.

“If you’re here to tell me that I was an idiot, don’t bo-”

“I’m not here to call you anything, Ernst,” His cheeks grew red at the sound of his first name, his gaze glancing up at you, watching as you stared back - only instead of something angry, like he expected, your gaze was more somber, worried even, “I just came to make sure you were okay. Here, let me.”

You gently moved his hands away from the zipper of his suit, taking another step forward to pinch at his suit, tugging the fabric down to help the zipper not get bunched in the fabric. You could feel his ragged breath hit your forehead, his chest heaving as the zipper moved higher until your hand stopped above his heart.

His mouth twitched into a smile, feeling your head fall forward to rest against his chest. You felt his arms wrap around you as he pulled you in tighter for a hug, as if you could get any closer to him. His lips sat on your hairline above your temple, kissing you sweetly.

“You trust me, right?” Schmidt suddenly asked. He could feel you tense up in his arms and he pulled back, his hands resting on your arms, squeezing them, “I just, don’t want you to be wrapped up in the middle of whatever feud Volkov has with me. Tam already gets it enough and I just don’t want you to have that on yo-”

You stopped him with a kiss, smiling into it before pulling away, seeing his own smile on his face.

“I can handle myself, Schmidt...I’m not worried with what Volkov has to say,” You wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling him wrap his arms around your waist, “Volkov likes to get a rise out of anyone who gives him the time of day. It’s how he keeps himself busy on board.”

The joke seemed to land well with Schmidt, earning a laugh before you felt him begin to rock you both side to side. “But what’s this about Tam being your girlfriend?” You teased.

You grinned at the sight of him rolling his eyes at you, “You don’t have to be jealous about Tam, you know that she’s-”

“Who said I was jealous?” You asked, a smirk toying on your mouth. The two of you often were fond of teasing one another, poking at one another until the other grew red - then you’d smother the other in kisses to make up for the relentless teasing. “Do I need to be jealous of her? Is that why it takes you so long to come to my room at night, are you seeing her before you see me?”

You had pulled away from him midway, now seated on his cot. He was red in the face and gaping as he tried to intervene, but you kept talking.

“I mean, wow, Tam? I didn’t realize you were the type that liked to be dominated-”

It was your turn to be cut off, giggling when he moved across the room, pinning you down against his bed. You felt your heart begin to race, your own cheeks turning red as his face sat merely inches away from you, his large hand squeezing your wrist down beside your head onto his bed.

“You really like to get under my skin, don’t you?” He asked, squeezing your waist. Behind his glasses, you noticed his pupils were blown, his eyes dark. “Do you like seeing me mad, liebling? Does it get you hot and bothered when you see me wrapping my hand around Volkov’s throat? Do you wish that was you?” You felt his hand moving up your side, groping at you until his hand wrapped lightly around your throat.

His thick German accent, mixed with the sultry tone that was dripping from his tongue, made your stomach flip, the heat between your thighs pulsating. Biting down on your lip, your free hand moved up to grip at the collar of his suit, panting slightly.

“Maybe it does.”

Your simple quip seemed to do it for him. Feeling his body shift slightly, Schmidt hummed in though, his hand moving from your neck and down, pressing into your lower stomach, pawing almost at your body before squeezing his way down to your thighs, pulling one up so he laid in between your legs.

By now you were hot and bothered. Feeling him grab at you, call you the sweet German pet name adored to call you. You felt his breath against your neck, shivering slightly before letting out a sweet moan when his lips pressed against the side of your neck, his teeth nibbling at the sensitive spot he knew of.

But you knew now wasn’t the time. Right now you two needed to be with the other crew members to initiate the next jump. The last thing you needed was for someone to walk in and catch you and Schmidt doing, well - that.

“Schmidt...моја љубав...my love, we need to get back.” You withered your hand from his wrist and to his chest, pushing him back until he was staring down at you, a disappointed frown on his face. You couldn’t help but smile, shaking your head at how childish he was acting.

“Oh, Ernst - come now, I’ll make it up to you later.” You leaned forward and pecked the corner of his mouth, rolling out from under him before standing up, smoothing down your suit as you walked to the mirror by his closet, looking at yourself in the mirror as you began fixing your appearance.

It wasn’t that you two were embarrassed of each other, no you two were smitten for one another and it was truly sick. You just knew that given the dire of your work, what everyone expected out of the two of you, flaunting your attraction could be seen as distracting.

But that was just it, you two weren’t even dating. You weren’t sure how it all started, but one day the constant pinning became more - and now a year later you were where you were now. Sneaking off at night to see each other, to lay in bed and hold one another. Once this was all over, you knew that you’d return home, would Schmidt go with you?

By now Schmidt was standing behind you, obviously aware of your state of mind, deep in whatever thoughts you were having. When you caught glances with him through the mirror, you blushed and looked away. At that point, you heard him laugh and move forward to help you fix your hair, smoothing the parts that stuck up and tucking the longer pieces behind your ear.

“You look beautiful as always,” He pecked your cheek and wrapped his arms around you, holding you in an embrace, “Do you want to go out first, or me?” He asked against your ear, letting the silence sink in between you two.

You wanted to suggest why not the both of you just leave together, but you knew now wasn’t the time to let a potential argument break out, especially given how sour his mood already was - and it wasn’t even noon yet.

“Why not you?” You finally said, reaching your hands up to squeeze his, “After all, you need to be down there more than me. Acosta and I are just there for moral support.”

Turning in his embrace, you looked up at him and smiled, leaning into his touch when he held your face, “Yes, well, I’d like to think of you as my good luck charm.”

You scoffed, shaking your head at his comment, “If that were true, we’d be off this ship by now.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Schmidt leaned forward and kissed your temple, “Maybe,” He mumbled against you, kissing you once more before pulling back, beginning to make his way towards the door, “Maybe you’re my good luck charm in the sense of keeping me from really doing something stupid.”

Your mouth twitched at the comment, not into a smile, nor a frown, almost like you winced. Besides Tam, you were probably one of the only people on board that completely trusted Schmidt. His temper left him to be rather difficult to be around at times, but perhaps he was right - maybe you were his soft spot, his good luck charm as he liked to say, because never has his temper ever gotten to you.

But there was still that sinking feeling in your stomach, as he headed out of his room and down the hall to meet with the others, leaving you standing alone in his quarters.

If this test were to fail - would Schmidt truly snap? Would you finally feel his wrath?

[navalcriminalimagines]

Taken & Found - 1

Request 1: Hey there! I'd really like to see a comforting Gibbs after the reader was kidnapped?

Request 2: Could ya do something with the reader being kidnapped and tortured in captivity for a long time and after she was rescued and came back Gibbs tries to get her to talk about what happened to her so he can figure out how to help/comfort her?

Request 3: May I request something with Gibbs and scared reader? Maybe they’re like trapped somewhere or she’s going under for a surgery? You can decide reader’s fate!

This is a two-part fic. This part is basically full angst, focused on Gibbs and the comforting, healing focus on Reader will come in the second part. I wanted to separate both.

Pairing: Gibbs x Reader

TW: angst, kidnapping, mention of suicide, depression, slight alcoholism

Words count: 3k

Tags: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @madamsnape921 @specialagentastra @ncisfan @zetasaturno99

She was supposed to be thirty-five years old today.

And it was one of those very rare days Gibbs didn’t want to get out of bed.

He spent the night working on his boat in the basement, thinking about what his life would be if anything had happened. But he would never know, would he? No matter how bad he wished Shannon and Kelly weren’t dead, how bad he wished you were here with him… all of this happened. And he found himself alone in his basement.

Well, not entirely alone. He had a bottle of bourbon to keep him company, and Fraser, an old black labrador. Your old black lab. Your furry baby, as you used to say.

You rescued it when it was just a puppy, a couple of years before you joined NCIS. So, Gibbs has always known you with this loving thing. At some point, you would even take him to the office and Fraser’s favorite spot was under Gibbs’s desk.

Gibbs never wanted to get attached to the dog. Fraser wasn’t his, it was yours and he respected that. But somehow, you both made your way to his heart.

But only Fraser was still here.

Taking a sip of bourbon directly out of the bottle, his eyes landed on your pet, curled up in the armchair Gibbs put here years ago after you made a remark. “You know, you should put something down here. An armchair or something for people who visit.” You said, while caressing the wood with your fingertips. God did he wish he was the boat at this very moment.

“People who visit never stick around.” He answered, sternly.

“I stick around,” you grinned.

Indeed, you did stick around. A lot. Probably too much.

Would’ve saved him the heartbreak if you didn’t.

A week later, an armchair was down his basement.

With the bottle still in his hand, Gibbs sat next to Fraser and started to toy the blankie. Well, technically, it was not a blankie. It was a tee-shirt. One of yours. The one you left at his house, two years ago.

The top, representing one of your favorite bands, was destroyed now. Fraser chewed it, curled against it nonstop for two years, it was now just some cotton with dog’s hair on it. It didn’t have your smell anymore, it had Fraser’s, but Gibbs never had the strength to take it away from the dog to wash it.

He never had the strength to do much after you disappeared.

When it was clear to the team that you had been taken, kidnapped, abducted or whatever, Gibbs searched for you for weeks, probably mouths. He still does, to be honest, just not 24/7 anymore.

The first weeks, he asked - or actually, ordered - Abby to take care of Fraser. Gibbs was spending all of his time away, looking for you, he couldn’t take care of someone - well, a living thing. The lab tech happily obliged, but Fraser’s health quickly deteriorated. The dog wasn’t eating, or drinking. All he did was lay on the floor, waiting for his mum to come back.

“What, Abby? I don’t—“ not a welcoming way to answer the phone but she didn’t hold it against him.

“I know you’re busy, Gibbs, but I’m taking Fraser to the vet. He’s not okay at all.”

Abby heard her boss taking a deep breath. “Which vet? I’ll be here as soon as I can.”

The dog was clearly letting himself die. Without you, he didn’t see the point of living and Gibbs understood that. If he told anyone what he did after he got Fraser from the vet, they would think he was crazy. Maybe he was, but he didn’t care at this point. He didn’t care about anything, anymore.

Fraser was depressed and there was nothing the vet could do about it. So, they let Gibbs take him home.

And he took him home. His real home; your apartment. Fraser immediately lay on your bed and cried. “You’re reading my mind, Fra.” Gibbs muttered to himself, while preparing a bowl for the pet.

Gibbs had been in your room a few times, but he never paid attention to your stuff. All his attention was on you and your body when it happened. But as he was sitting on the floor, his back against your bed, he allowed himself to take a look around. It was very much you. Minimalist with your touch. He saw your guitar, your messy wardrobe, candles and some Polaroid pictures of people you love. Gibbs never paid attention to those pictures until this moment and one grabbed his attention.

A picture of him. You could see him from afar, aiming to throw a ball. He remembered that night but he never knew you took a picture.

Ziva had invited him to throw a few balls on a baseball field. It was a nice summer night and they had just saved many people from getting blown up. It was also the first night you kissed him. In his basement, you teased him like you always did and ended up with your lips on his. He wasn’t ready for it at that moment, and when he realised what had happened, you were already gone.

Gibbs held the picture in his hand and before sitting back exactly where he was, he went to the kitchen, grabbed what he had prepared and came back.

Fraser was still laying on your bed, his face on your pillow. Gibbs carried him in his arms, the labrador didn’t even fight back or anything. He put him in front of the bowl and Gibbs sat across. “You wanna die, Fra, huh?” The dog looked at him with horrifying sadness in his eyes. “You and me both, buddy. So let’s do this.”

Gibbs put the picture next to the bowl and grabbed his gun and the bottle of whiskey. “I know you know that salmon. Eat it, choke, and when you take your last breath, I’ll pull the trigger.” He said, pressing the gun against his temple.

Fraser is deadly allergic to salmon. When he was a few months old, you fed him some and the reaction was almost instantaneous. Luckily, you took him to the vet right on time for them to save him. “Salmon is banned from the house.” you said on the ride home.

The dog didn’t move one bit. With his face still resting on the floor, he kept looking at the man. Gibbs swore he saw tears in the damn dog’s eyes. “So? Whatcha waiting for? Eat it. It’s good salmon, trust me.” He said, drinking the brown liquor.

If Fraser could talk, he would’ve told him; ‘I may let myself die, but you’re damn crazy.’ Which would’ve been fair.

Gibbs was going crazy. It was the last straw. The last punch in the guts he could take. He had reached his limit.

He was finally letting himself love again and get loved in return. And someone took that away from him. All over again.

He got it, the universe hates him for some reasons. Why would he keep pushing it then?

Gibbs stayed up all night, drinking and waiting for Fraser to eat the fish and die. So he could pull the trigger and end this once and for all.

But Fra never did. Instead, around 5am, the dog went to grab something from the bathroom and put it on Gibbs’ lap. It was one of his hoodies. A hoodie you stole from him. Gibbs buried his nose in it and he could smell you. For the first time in many years, he let himself cry. He cried like a fucking baby, under the watch of your fucking dog.

At some point, he felt that Fraser was trying to nudge his nose in the hoodie too. “We’ll find her, Fra. We have to.”

If Gibbs had killed himself, along with Fraser, it would’ve meant you were gone forever. Because eventually, people would’ve stopped looking for you. They would’ve stopped thinking about you and just pretended you’re dead.

But Gibbs knew you weren’t dead. He knew it deep inside him. Because if you were dead, Fraser would’ve eaten the salmon and he would’ve pulled the trigger.

Laying in his bed, Gibbs turned on his side and found himself face to face with Fraser. The dog was sleeping and snoring. That’s what he does most of his time. Fra was still depressed, but he didn’t let himself die anymore. He eats and drinks the bare minimum. He doesn’t play anymore though. He used to be a happy, playful and loving dog. Now he’s just laying around, waiting for you to come back.

Just like Gibbs.

They both lost weight. Gibbs didn’t even bother to look at himself in the mirror anymore. He hadn’t been to the hairdresser in a while. His hair was longer than it has never been, and his beard was prominent now. You would probably freak out if you saw him like this. You would order him to shave and get his marine haircut back. You would feed him - and Fraser - until they are full. He just wished you were here.

He reached for Fraser’s head and pet him for a moment. “The boat is done and I can’t even offer it to her.” He sadly whispered. It’s been his plan a long time before you were gone. Building a boat after and for you. Now it was your thirty-fifth birthday, the boat was fucking done but he coudn’t teach you how to operate it like he promised.

For the next two weeks, Gibbs would stay in the basement, and stare at the finished product. There was nothing left to do on it, so he just sat behind the wheel, files on his lap and bourdon in one hand. His use of alcohol has never been higher than it is now. You’d scold him if you knew.

Maybe he’s self-destructing, hoping you’d show up and make everything right again. It was stupid, since you didn’t leave on your own. You were taken. Someone took you, and god knows what they were doing to you. This awoke a rage he never knew he had. He’d kill that - or those - person with his bare hands if he ever has a chance.

A month after your birthday, Gibbs was basically falling asleep in his boat, relatively drunk. Fraser was on his lap - he doesn’t realise he’s not a puppy anymore - when the dog shot his head up. “Easy, that’s just Fornell.” Gibbs mumbled, recognizing his friend’s footsteps.

“My two favorite depressed boys.” Tobias greeted them. He gently patted Fraser’s head and looked at his friend. “I need you to sober up, Gibbs. We need to talk about something important.”

“Just say whatever you have to say. I’m not that drunk.”

“Yeah, right.” Tobias grabbed the bottle from Gibbs’s hand and checked how empty it was. But Tobias knew only one thing would make him react, so he went straight to the point. “It’s about Y/N, Gibbs. Get your ass—“

Before the FBI agent could finish his sentence, Gibbs had practically thrown Fraser away. The poor dog looked at him with hurt in his eyes. It was only then that Gibbs saw the file his friend was holding against his chest. He didn’t think twice and tore it out of his grip. Tobias let him.

There wasn’t much in the file, just a picture.

A picture of you.

You looked different, thinner, your hair was shorter and in a completely different color. You looked like a homeless woman.

Gibbs’s jaw dropped. His head was spinning so fast, he needed to sit again. He touched the picture with his fingertips so softly, hoping it was like touching you. A lot of things were going through his mind at this moment, he actually drew a blank. “It was taken two days ago. In Wyoming.”

Gibbs didn’t need more.

Tobias had everything planned before he showed up at Gibbs’s place. One of the FBI private planes was waiting for them, in order to take them off to Wyoming. He had asked Emily if she could dogsit Fraser for a few days, and he even called Vance to let him know he was taking Gibbs with him.

In the plane, he told Gibbs how he came across this picture and all of the info he had, which wasn’t much to be honest. As far as they knew, you were in one city of Wyoming two days ago. Maybe you were gone by now.

But all Gibbs could focus on was that picture. He didn’t take his eyes off it since he opened the file. This was you. You were alive. Whatever happened, whatever the reasons you found yourself here, you were fucking alive.

Tobias looked at his friend. He’ll spend the rest of his life pretending he didn’t see the tear rolling down his cheek. “How you feeling?” He tentatively asked.

“I—I don’t know. It’s a lot.”

“She’s alive. We know it. We’ll find her.”

“I’ve always known she was alive.”

No doubt he did.

It was hard for Tobias to tame Gibbs after they landed. The agent was already barking orders at everybody and anybody, he was ready to organize a fucking manhunt to find you. But the first place they went was where the picture was taken. Gibbs spent hours in the area, while Tobias went to see the local cops. When he tried to check on Gibbs, the man never answered.

In the picture, you were looking at the surveillance camera. You knew you were being watched. You did it on purpose, Gibbs was sure of it. You must have left a clue somewhere around.

You looked scared, someone must have been following you. But he knew from what Tobias said; there wasn’t much more on the video. You were briefly seen and then disappeared, again. “Talk to me, Y/N.” Gibbs thought to himself while looking around.

It was only around noon that it hit him. He finally saw it.

Right there on the graffiti wall.

“Born to lose, live to win.”

Your handwriting. This sentence. Your tattoo.

You must have written this to let him know he should look at this wall. So he did. He studied those graffitis for a long moment, until he saw what he needed to see.

Numbers. GPS coordinates.

He called McGee, not paying attention to the missed calls he had. He gave him the coordinates and Tim gave him an address.

Was that it? The nightmare was finally over? He would go to this address, find you and take you home. Finally.

Fucking finally.

He felt dizzy while running to the address. It wasn’t that far away, and there was no way he’d wait for Fornell or a cab. So, he jogged to this fucking house. When he was standing in front of it, his heart was beating so fast, he thought it would stop.

But he couldn’t die now. He would die after he found you but not now.

He didn’t care about procedures or anything. He grabbed his gun, and let himself in the house by knocking out the door. A man was sitting there, on the couch.

The house was pure filth. The man seemed to be a bit younger than him, and he looked like a psychopath. Which he is, considering he took you.

The man was standing in his living room, his hands up as Gibbs pointed the gun at him. In a flash, Gibbs was standing right in front of the man, the gun pressed against his throat. The man looked scared, he didn’t even try to fight. “What the hell, man? Who are you? What do—“

“Shut your mouth. Where is she?” Gibbs asked, suppressing the urge to beat the man to death right now. That would come later. He needed to find you first.

“Who? There’s no—“

Gibbs’s knee hit him right in his crotch and that bastard fell on the floor. “You’re living the final hour of your life, you better tell me where the hell is Y/N, before I watch life leaving your fucking eyes.”

“I—I—“

Seeing his hesitation, Gibbs punched him. “Where?!” He yelled, but the man stayed silent. “Fine.”

Gibbs grabbed the guy by his collar to put him back up. He was physically impressive, but the adrenaline running through Gibbs’s veins gave him incredible strength. He threw him on the first chair he saw and immediately cuffed him to it. He punched him once more, harder this time.

His nose and lips were bloody, but of course it wasn’t enough. Gibbs fought a lot in his life. To defend himself or to arrest someone, but never, had he been filled with that much rage and anger. He didn’t think twice before his boot hit the man directly in his face, knocking him unconscious. He stared as the man fell on the floor along with the chair he was cuffed to.

He needed to find you. Right now.

No need to be a federal agent to know a psychopath would hold you captive somewhere private.

So he immediately looked for a basement, which he quickly found and he saw the door.

A reinforced door with quite a few locks. Keys. He needed keys that he found in the man’s pocket. Although he was still laying on the floor, fighting to regain consciousness, Gibbs kicked him again, in the stomach this time. He wasn’t holding back his strength one bit. He will kill him anyway.

As he was unlocking the door, his hands were shaking like they never did before. His heart was still pounding in his chest. He still felt dizzy.

He was sure his heart actually stopped when he spotted you on the one-person bed. You were holding your knees against your chest. It was dark, but it was you. You were there, a few feet in front of him. He didn’t even know what to do.

But you did.

When you realised who was standing in front of you, you weakly jumped off the bed and rushed into his arms.

The only thing that kept you alive all this time; knowing that he would find you.

You felt even smaller than you already were. With your arms wrapped around his waist, your face buried in his chest, Gibbs felt you crying.

He slowly wrapped his arms around you, afraid it wasn’t real. Afraid he may hurt you. Afraid you would disappear again. “You found me.” he heard you whispering.

That he did.

[ellavogues]

what did you wish for? - harry styles

summary: long distance has put a strain on harry and yn’s relationship, especially as his birthday is fast approaching

a/n: last repost from my old blog, i still freaking love this. this fic means a lot to me because parts of it was based off of my own life. as always, ily all <3

masterlist

The light turned to dark as she sat by her phone watching reruns of  The Office, waiting for Harry to call her like he did every night. Her  day was particularly bad, everything that could’ve gone wrong went wrong  - from her forgetting her umbrella when it was bucketing down to her  somehow locking her car keys in her car (which led to her incurring a  $200 fee for the roadside assist service getting them out). Then, when  she trudged home in the pouring rain, clothes completely soaked and her socks inside her shoes wet, she received an email informing her the  elevators in her building were out of service. Unluckily for her, she lived on the 16th floor.

All she wanted was to see his smile to  turn her day around. Harry never failed to turn her worst days into good  ones just by being him, but being in a long distance relationship put a  strain on that. Sure, they would visit each other every now and then, but both of their jobs were demanding and meant they couldn’t travel as  much as they wanted to. Harry could travel more than she could, but she  didn’t think it was fair that he’d always have to be the one to hop on a  plane and fly across the world.

The familiar ringtone played and her eyes lit up in excitement. Y/N reached for the phone and answered to hear him yelling  some utterance at his friend, to which his friend responded with something  equally as snide.

A smile crept onto her lips as she lightly  giggled at his attitude to his friend, and she could almost feel them roll her eyes at his snarky remark. Y/N would be lying if she said the  huff of annoyance he let out as he returned his attention to her wasn’t hot, as well as the way he ran his fingers over his stubble then through his curly hair.

“How do you want to celebrate your birthday, Haz?” Y/N  asked softly, not wanting to make his bad mood worse and hoping the  change of subject would make him happy.

Harry sighed, closing his  eyes as he composed his answer. “What’s the point?” His tone wasn’t soft  like hers, nor was it disappointed. It appeared that he was angry that  she brought up the topic. In a matter-of-fact tone, he continued,  “You’re not in London with me, you’re in New York. There’s no point in celebrating with you if you’re not here.”

“We can FaceTime?”

He rolled his eyes at her suggestion as if it was the stupidest thing he had heard, and sarcastically laughed at her.

“What’s  with your attitude, Harry? I want to celebrate with you! It’s not my fucking fault that I can’t be in London!” She frowned, frustrated that the distanc  between them was the topic of conversation, like it always seemed to be.

Harry scoffs in response, the look on his slightly pixelated face dumbfounded  that you would even suggest that it wasn’t your fault. “I have offered  to fly you out to London many times, Y/N. There are plenty of jobs for you  out here that you could apply to and that you know you would get because  you’re so damn good at what you do,” he retorted, tired and irritated.  Though Harry was usually incredibly patient with everyone, especially her, these increasingly frequent conversations had begun to wear him  thin and gradually made him resent FaceTiming her at all, despite still  being completely and utterly in love with her. “You’re being stubborn about moving for no reason.”

They were both quite stubborn individuals, but in the past Harry was usually the one that compromised to make her happy. He valued her happiness over getting his own way.  When they reconnected a year ago, a few years after finishing school, and quickly realised their friendship was based on more-than-friend feelings they faced the problem of living in different countries. Although it seemed like a breeze at first, Harry scoffing at  anyone who claimed long distance would be hard, as their feelings grew  deeper and his visits less frequent, they both longed for a more  physical presence of the other, rather than just virtual. This was  something Harry was absolutely not willing to compromise on. He had his whole life in London, and he knew that he could give her the life she deserves if she  would just take up his offer. He knew she was scared of leaving her  family behind to move in with him, and he understood. Harry tried to keep his cool about this topic, but eventually he became exasperated.

“No  good reason? Why should I be the one to move? Why is it me that has to pack up my entire life just to be with you?’” She scolds him for being so rude, and feels like he’s completely brushing off her feelings. “You are able to work from wherever you are. I am not. you should be the one  to move.”

“Me?” Harry was astounded at was his girlfriend’s  response, and was indigent at her crazy suggestion. “I can not leave London just because you’re scared of leaving the city you’ve been in all your life.  My work is in London, you know this. You know I have to be here to work,  just because I technically could still record in New York does not change that the majority of my work and networks are in London. You’re being a bit dramatic and unfair about this, Y/N. I’m tired of arguing about this all the time.  Goodnight.”

The fact that he hung up on her makes her see red,  blood boiling as she clenched her fists and teeth. He knew what he was  asking of her; to pack up her whole life just to be with him. He was being selfish and unreasonable and she was being exhausted of having  this stupid argument that neither of them ever won every time they talked. She felt like he never considered her friends here in New York,  and that he always brushed off how she felt about the move. This fight  had gradually become more tense as time went on, as they knew that a  decision would eventually have to be made if they wanted their  relationship to grow.

///

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she claimed.

“I  know you and H had a fight,” Harry's friend responded, the one on the phone earlier. “He told me what  happened and he feels really bad. Like, really. I know he would really appreciate it if you were here for his birthday.”

She sighed,  starting to feel slightly guilty too for the way she reacted. She feels  even more guilty for the fact that they hadn’t spoken at all in the past  3 days, besides a text from Harry simply saying Sorry for hanging up on you.  When Y/N received the text, she was still calming down from their argument, still hurt by the way he made her feel that her career wasn’t  as important as his. She still loved him, and she still misses him, though.

“I can’t afford a ticket, you know that. Not everyone makes a fuck ton of money like you and Haz-”

The friend chuckled softly over the phone before reassuring Y/N, “I’ll  pay for it. Come and surprise him, he’ll feel a lot better and it’ll  give you guys a chance to work it out in person, where you can’t just  hang up on each other.”

Y/N knew that his friend was right, she knew that she and Harry needed a face to face conversation about the future  of their relationship because long distance hadn’t seemed to be working  for them anymore. Their virtual dates, while well thought out and  romantic, weren’t the same as being there in person with him. Being  there and lightly brushing legs as they sat down at the small table,  hearing his laugh without the audio cutting in and out, being able to  hold each other’s hands. It wasn’t the same.

Maybe that is why Y/N and Harry had been arguing so much, because their relationship relied on strong wifi connections and the ability to be on their phones all  day. And it wasn’t enough for either of them anymore.

“Okay, thank you. I’m really grateful you’re doing this for us,” Y/N finally responded, expressing her gratitude.

His friend felt a wave of relief, ecstatic that Harry might finally get out of his shitty mood. Even though he didn’t mean to take out  his annoyances on his friends, and he apologised every single time he  gave them an uncalled for attitude, but it seemed his bad mood was never dissipating. When finally asked what was wrong, bursting through his door in a fit of exasperation, he broke down and told her about  their FaceTime, and all their FaceTimes before it. About how every subject they discussed seemed to lead to the same topic: the distance between them. He admitted he regretted his harsh words, and regretted him acting like he thought his job was more important than hers.

“It’s really not a problem,” his friend promised. “I’ll email you the flight  details and the invite, I can’t wait to see you! It’s been so long!”

“It’s been, like, a month and a half. Not that long.”

“That is so long! I miss you like crazy.”

“I  miss you too,” Y/N giggled.

She flopped back on her bed, grinning from ear to ear and  excited she would finally be able to see her boyfriend again, yet dreading the impending and necessary conversation they would have to have.

//

Y/N had anxiously got out of her Uber when she  arrived at a friend's house for Harry’s surprise party. She was  visibly shaking, stuttering as she said thank you to her driver, nervous  that his reaction wouldn’t be good when seeing her. She was scared that he didn’t want her here anymore after their fight, despite his friend constantly reassuring her that he would be over the moon to see her.

She  knocked on the front door, which his almost immediately answered.  “Hey! Y/N!”

The loud exclamation earned the attention of  the other attendees of the party, all shocked to see Y/N after Harry had repeatedly, and bitterly, told them that she was going to be in New York for his birthday.

“Hey,” Y/N smiled,  greeting everyone. She glanced around the room, seeing the fairy lights  hanging from the ceiling, the island bench covered with a gold table  cloth, the backyard decorated with gold balloons and streamers. “Woah,  the party is super cool! Harry is going to love it.”

“Harry is going to love that you’re here and not in New York.”

When Harry finally arrived, the lights were switched off and  everyone scurried to grab their phones out to film. Y/N waited behind everyone as  the group gathered close together to surprise him when he walked in.

“Oh my god,” Harry spoke. “It smells funny in here.”

She let out a quiet giggle at his comment, but was quick to muffle it before he heard it was her.

When he made it past the gold streamers that blocked the front door from the living area, everyone yelled out SURPRISE,  going crazy and covering Harry with confetti. His face had pure joy,  happiness and gratefulness plastered all over it, ecstatic that his  friends would do something so sweet for his birthday, although he most  likely already knew about the party. He glanced around the room, and  almost had to do a double take when he saw his girlfriend. Y/N had told  him she wouldn’t be able to make it, making him dread his birthday since  he didn’t see a point in celebrating it if it wasn’t with her.

When  the crowd had dispersed, Harry made his way over to her and grabbed her  chin gently, tilting her face up before saying “Hey, love” and kissing her softly. He broke the kiss and pulled his girlfriend into a warm embrace.  She was so glad to see him, in person, to be able to hold his hand and  hug him and just be around him. In person.

They were pulled  out of their moment when Harry’s friend asked if they wanted a  picture, to which Y/N responded no and he responded yes.

“Don’t be shy, love,” he teased, smiling like a cheshire cat as he put her hair  behind her ears. “I want to remember you being here tonight, let’s take the picture.”

It wasn’t long until it was time to cut the cake,  Harry having Y/N by his side the whole night because he didn’t want to  waste a minute he could spend with her. Being with him reminded Y/N why  they were dating, and why she loved him. As the night went on, she felt  the fight that was seemingly big feel less important, because she  realised that she was making excuses as to why she couldn’t move to London  with him. She was being stubborn for no reason, and she noticed that the  only thing holding her back was her. Not her job, she could find a new  one in London, not her family because she barely saw them anyway, not her friends because half of her friends were in London with Harry anyway. When she saw Harry walk through those streamers, it became crystal clear how silly she was  being.

Harry knew what he wanted, and being with her that night just made him more sure. He decided he wasn’t going to stop fighting for  his relationship with her, and if that meant he had to settle down his  requests for her to move to London with him so she felt more comfortable, he would do that. Despite wanting nothing more than to live with her, to  wake up every morning and see her face, to Postmate her favorite coffee every morning, to surprise her with spur-of-the-moment dates every now  and then. He wanted her, and he was willing to wait if that’s what he  needed to do.

After everyone sang happy birthday to him, his arm slung loosely around her, he blew out his candles.

“What did you wish for, H?”

[emitheduck]

So. We're Soulmates? (Bucky x Reader)

A/N: my first soulmate AU, and I figured it was finally time, and bucky deserved one lol. no spoilers whatsoever

Soulmate AU where you have your soulmate’s birthday tattooed on your arm ---

March 10th, 1917.

(Y/n) had always thought, there was no possible way that the universe had ever, ever gotten her soulmate’s birthday right. When everyone was celebrating that their soulmate was around the same age as them, she got to look down in horror as she could practically see her soulmate’s life fly by. There was legitimately no possible way that her soulmate would even still be alive.

The rules of the soulmate were strange, and no one ever understood them or questioned them. It was found out sometime in the 80s that the dates on peoples forearms weren’t random--but the birthday of their soulmate. Because the universe was a cosmic nightmare, when someone’s soulmate died, the numbers went with them.

That’s what made this so strange.

Either (Y/n)’s soulmate was hanging onto life support, or the universe had fucked up and decided it was going to trick her into thinking she could find happiness like everyone else.

She had these feelings up until she got the faithful call one day, that she had landed the job with SHIELD and found out that she would be working in the helicarrier during the attack on New York. And that’s how she met Steve Rogers.

“You know, it’s kind of funny.” Steve sighed with a chuckle, shaking his head as he followed (Y/n) who was leading him to where he would be staying.

“What is?” She asked as she typed in the access code for one of the doors as they walked.

“The number on your arm. That’s my friend’s birthday.” Steve was smirking as he walked into his room. “I mean, it was his birthday.”

(Y/n) looked down at the date on her arm and sighed, her hand instinctively covering the date. “You sure he’s dead? Not some hundred-year-old veteran in a nursing home that you haven’t checked in on or something?” She was trying her best to not sound horrible for joking about his friend's death, but he seemed almost amused by her banter.

“Last I checked, he’s dead. I watched him fall off the train and everything.” He told her as he sat down on the edge of his bed. “His name was Bucky.” He told her as she turned around to leave, watching her stop for a moment to listen before she left.

Steve’s words always lingered in the back of her mind ever since that day on the helicarrier. She had seen the Bucky memorial spot in the museum, and the day she found out that he was alive, she would never forget (mostly because when it happened, she had dropped the bottle of wine she was holding on the floor and spent hours picking up tiny shards of glass).

The year was now 2023. Five years after the blip, and (Y/n) now fully retired from SHIELD. She left on good terms, but the years of working were just exhausting. Especially now that she came back after vanishing for five years and had to rebuild her life all over again. At least they were respectful, and were happy to give her the pay that she had missed out on.

It was hard enough having to deal with knowing all your close friends sacrificed themselves for the whole world, and not being able to do anything about it. That was the reason that kept her up most nights. The guilt of feeling like she could have done something, but never got the chance to, was the hardest feeling.

That’s what led (Y/n) to walking aimlessly around the grocery store at almost 2am. When she couldn’t sleep, sometimes the best thing to do was walk around pushing the cart and praying that the LED lights would calm her down enough to go home and face the empty apartment.

What she didn’t expect was turning the corner of the frozen section and crashing her cart into someone elses. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying attention.” (Y/n) apologize as she looked at the man in front of her. “I should have been looking. I guess I’m just tired.”

“I’m probably just tired too.” He chuckled, pulling his cart away from hers. Both the carts were empty anway. “You come here to walk around at night too?”

“How could you tell?” (Y/n) laughed, running a hand through her hair as she looked him over. He looked familiar, and knowing her luck he was some assassin that was stalking her, and came here to finish the job.

He motioned to their empty carts with a bob of his head. “Something about just pushing the carts around and listening to the crappy music makes me feel better too.” He smirked as he never broke eye contact. “Also, people normally buy food when they’re shopping.”

(Y/n) sighed, nodding. “You caught me. I’m just here to wander.”

“It’s okay. I am too. Sometimes staring at the TV isn’t enough.” He mumbled, shaking his head as he broke eye contact to look where his hands were gripping the handle of the cart. “Sorry, I’m just rambling I guess.”

“No, I get it.” She laughed it off, knowing it was late and sometimes people just kept talking when they were tired. “My names (Y/n).” She smiled, holding out her hand for him to shake.

He seemed to hesitate, but reached out and shook her hand. “My name’s Bucky.”

She could feel her mouth go dry. “Bucky?” There was just no, possible way that this was the man who has been in the back of her mind for years on end.

“I’m guessing you know who I am.” He muttered, already preparing himself to turn around and forget this interaction never happened. “Sorry, I should go.”

“Wait! No, I didn’t mean it like that.” (Y/n) exclaimed as she held her hands out to stop him from leaving. “I just have heard so much about you--not the way you think, it sounds so weird. I talked to Steve about you once, way back before the battle of New York.”

She peaked his interest at the mention of Steve. “You knew Steve?”

(Y/n) nodded. “He told me all about you. Look, I even have your birthday on my arm.” She told him, lifting up her sleeve to show him the date on her arm, watching his eyes go wide out of shock. “Steve liked to always tease me that I had your birthday, and I always told him that I probably had some old man, sitting in some hospital bed, decaying before our eyes. Wow, I am rambling, I am so sorry. I should leave.” She was bright red as she decided to just leave her cart where it was and accept the humiliation and leave.

“No, you don’t have to go.” Bucky told her, gently grabbing her arm to stop her from leaving. “I guess now that you showed me yours, I’ll show you mine.” He grinned as he let go of her arm, using his left hand to pull up his long sleeve. There on his arm, in bold black numbers was (Y/n)’s birthday clear as day.

“Do you maybe want to go get coffee at that 24 hour place across the street? We might have a bit we need to talk about.” She was dumbfounded. Steve would always tease and joke, telling her that Bucky was her soulmate just because it was the same birthday on her arm. But due to the fact that he was presumed dead for so long, (Y/n) never thought anything of it.

“Are you going to come inside? I’ve been holding the door open for almost a minute.” Bucky asked, laughing a little uncomfortably as he watched the woman just stand at the door of the diner. She didn’t even remember the walk to get there.

(Y/n) blinked, rubbing her eyes as she nodded and walked inside. The sign said seat yourself, and she found a nice seat by the window for the two of them. “Sorry. I guess I’m just a little speechless.”

He chuckled as he shifted in the booth. “I’ll be honest. Me too.”

“So. We’re soulmates.” She shrugged, feeling uncertain of herself. Finding her soulmate was never the first thing on her mind, because she never actually thought that she would find him. Sure, the universe also had a way of making the two cross paths at some point, but because of the age, she never cared.

“When I used to see the date on my arm, I thought it was a joke.” He told her, mumbling that he wanted a coffee when the waiter walked over and asked what they wanted. “She wants a coffee. Two cream, one sugar.” He said as the other man nodded and walked away.

“How did you know my coffee order?” She asked with a raise of her eyebrow.

Bucky opened his mouth like he was about to speak but sighed. “I legit have no idea. My brain was working for me, and it just came out.”

(Y/n) laughed. “I mean, we’re cosmically linked so it does make sense.” The coffee was set down in front of them and she smiled as she held onto the mug. “Is this when I ask if you can tell me about yourself?”

“Where do I start?” He asked as he set his coffee down after taking a sip. “My name is James Buchanan Barnes, but I go by Bucky. James is only for when shit hits the fan I guess.”

“I think I prefer Bucky.” She smiled, watching as his cheeks turned red for a moment.

“What about you Doll? What fun thing do you have to tell me?” Bucky asked her with a smirk, making it her turn to blush.

“I worked for SHIELD, that’s where I met Steve. But then there was that time we found out that Hydra was inside of SHIELD, and technically you tried to kill me.” She pointed out, watching as he put his head down in shame. “But that’s all in the past now. I’m not that person anymore.”

He took a sip of his coffee before he spoke. “What changed?”

(Y/n) sighed, shaking her head as she held onto her coffee mug for warmth. “I was pretty close with Steve and Natasha. Tony helped me get the job at SHIELD, too. Three people that I looked up to more than anything, were gone before I ever got a chance to say goodbye.” She told him, knowing that there would be no more tears left to cry. Her tear-ducts seemed to stop working after she had cried for days straight that they were gone.

“I wasn’t very close to anyone but Steve, but I do understand how you feel.” He told her, leaning across the table to rest a hand on her shoulder. “Do you live in the city?”

“I live pretty close to Hell’s Kitchen.” She told him, watching as he nodded. “I’m guessing you live in Brooklyn?”

He looked a little surprised, but still smiled. “How could you tell?”

She smiled back, a little shy. “Some part of me just knew, but the other part of me heard Steve talk about Brooklyn all the time. He loved it there, and I guess I thought you did too.”

“It’s definitely still amazing, but a lot has changed. I’m still getting used to it all.” Bucky confessed, putting down some money for the coffee as they both finished and stood up from the table.

(Y/n) checked her phone and sighed at the time. 3:30 in the morning, and there was no way she was going to sleep now. Now, she was going to ride the train and hope that the rocking of the subway would be enough to turn her mind off for a while. “I should get going. It’s getting late, and I’m taking the train back.”

He nodded, seeming a little uneasy that she was about to leave. “Do you maybe want my number? We could meet up someday, maybe get to know eachother better?”

She grinned as she handed him her phone. “Put your number in.” She told him as they traded phones, smirking as she put in her contact. “I put my information as (Y/n)-Soulmate, just in case you seemed to forget.”

“Oh trust me, I don’t think I’ll ever forget.” Bucky chuckled as he looked at her contact. “Promise you’ll call?”

“Considering the fact I’ve known you for a few hours, and I’m already completely head-over-heels for you, I don’t think you have to worry.” (Y/n) told him, leaning up and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Bye for now, but not bye forever.”

Bucky was grinning like an idiot, and he knew it. “I like the sound of that. I still just can’t believe I found you after all these years.”

“You better believe it, because you’re going to be seeing a lot more of me from now on.”

MASTERLIST

[starkeristheendgame]

P.E.T.E.R | Android!Peter AU

TW: Non-applicable. 

Three years and relentless experimentation alongside some of the biggest names in adjacent fields and biological science had concluded in one of Tony’s boldest, most groundbreaking inventions yet. 

The Protection Engineered Tactical Enforcement Robot - or, P.E.T.E.R for short, was the first and technically seventh of it’s kind. It was the first to reach this stage of the process; first to become whole, ready for activation. 

Seventh because prior to this all the other shells had failed. The careful craft of a body compounded from a variety of materials such as vibranium, polysiloxane and STEM cells of real flesh had been no easy journey.

So much so that Tony had almost, almost given up. His first vision had failed; Ultron a dark red stain on his ledger no amount of saving lives would ever scrub off; and attempting to perfect Ultron’s failed attempt at a new form was a seemingly impossible dream.

Until now.

He set a hand against the glass of the Cradle, watching it’s slow and careful progress. They were at the point now where everything was just finishing touches; polishing off edges and smoothing crinkles. The shell - or, body, as he preferred to call it, was ready.

And likewise, so was the AI that would directly operate within it. Crafted from JARVIS’ core and meticulously coded and raised to avoid Ultron’s boundless genocidal activism, PETER was the pinnacle of artificial, sentient defence.

JARVIS had been carefully raising the code like a child, educating and guiding it with the attentive care of a paternal figure. Tony had watched the code progress from the barest flickers of artificial life to fast rivalling JARVIS for it’s abilities. 

PETER was already outperforming even the Sentinels and some of Tony’s other AI’s like FRIDAY, displaying all of Ultron’s self-learning and intuition without any of the socio-psychopathic tendencies his original attempt had cultivated. PETER was learning twice as fast as even JARVIS had, though PETER was still so young and underexposed.

It had fast outgrown Tony’s initial purpose of sentient AI used in protection detail and critical warfare in order to minimise human loss. It was even on track to surpass Ultron, the notion of the human mind recreated through code seemingly brought to life.

He let his hand drop. Three days. Three days, and PETER would open it’s eyes for the first time.

They passed by like a dreamscape. A blur of tests and activity, checks and re-checks and fending off Fury’s healthy but annoying doubts and insistence of supervision.

In the twenty-four hours before PETER went live, Tony didn’t sleep a wink. He sat on a chair besides the Cradle, staring at the still form within. The lab around him was dark, filled only with the soft glow of the Cradle’s light. It was the first and closest Tony would ever get to sitting besides a medical bassinet, watching his newborn child sleep. 

“Do you think he’s ready?” he asked quietly, tracing the line of a long, lithe arm against the glass.

“I have no doubts,” JARVIS answered steadily. “But if I may, Sir, it appears that you do.”

“Ultron..” Tony couldn’t bring himself to finish. 

“Goodness cannot be guaranteed even in people,” JARVIS began. “There is no law to the human mind - not yet. It is a dice roll. And in attempting to recreate the human mind, you must accept the law of chance also.”

Sometimes Tony wondered where JARVIS got so wise. It certainly hadn’t been Tony’s own wisdom passed down.

“Ultron was one possibility out of many. There was logic in his perspective; complicated and flawed as it was. But for what it is worth… I believe PETER is the roll of the dice you were hoping for.”

“Me too, J,” he murmured lowly, counting the dusting of freckles across a dished nose. “Me too.”

At exactly 10:15 on August 10th, Tony tapped his index finger onto the glowing icon that transferred PETER’s consciousness into the body specifically crafted to house it.

Three years of blood, sweat and tears condensed into a single breathtaking moment of will it work? Right now there is no intent to go further than that. Everything in the future hinged purely on the result of the initial binding. It was all well and good to use machinery to twitch a few fingers or some coding to test optic reception, but this…

This was a baby’s first breath. 

Above him in the glass gallery stood Dr. Banner, Dr. Cho and Director Fury; three sets of eyes watching with expectant wariness. 

Transfer complete.

With a soft hiss and a cascade of cold fog, the Cradle unlatched and the lid slowly lifted, revealing the naked form within to the outside air for the first time. The lines of lights had turned a soft blue to indicate the success of the transfer and the activation of Happy Birthday Protocol.

For several agonising moments nothing happened. A pensive silence settled over the room like the cinematic foreshadowing in a horror movie right before the creature leapt out from behind a tree, but then -

Then two sets of thick, long lashes lifted steadily upwards, revealing a set of whiskey coloured eyes, carefully shade matched to Tony’s favourite brand of bourbon in the sunshine of a Hawaiian summer.

A trail of artificial blue flared up in those irises after a moment, forming a complete ring that glowed brighter before fading. Successful initiation of the camera and imaging technology within them, Tony knew. Now, PETER was seeing. Looking through it’s own eyes for the first time rather than the borrowed lenses of JARVIS and the other Tower technology.

For the longest while, PETER only lay there. Communicating with JARVIS, he suspected. Coming to terms with existing. Figuring out who and what it was, realising it was alive for the first time. Slowly learning every inch and microchip of it’s new form.

It’s fingers twitched. It’s sculpted chest rose on a smooth, deep inhale. And then PETER sat up, moved, and they looked at each other for the first time.

Tony let him look, staring and analysing just as much as the AI. PETER had been sculpted to look somewhere between 16 and 18, a combination of features pulled from several thousand sample images and pre-analysed bodies. 

PETER had turned out inexplicably pretty.

His beauty was almost effeminate. He had deep-set, almond shaped eyes framed by a generous set of lashes. His brows were long and sculpted into neat slopes; save the left, which had a curious discrepancy that gave PETER an overall quizzical look.

His jaw was sharp and his cheekbones were high and his nose was button-like and proportional. His mouth was wide and his lips were a dusky pink and his dark hair was thick and soft, ever so slightly wavy where it fell around his brows and temples.

Beyond his face PETER had been sculpted with the musculature of a gymnast, not quite slender but not the obnoxious stature of someone like Steve Rogers, either. Something a little softer, lean and deceptive. His skin was creamy and there was miles of it, unmarred and smooth, hairless.

Tony wondered what he looked like in comparison, in Peter’s eyes. Old and weathered, scarred from temple to toe. An odd mix of pale and tan where he never seemed to have the time to sunbathe anymore. Toeing the line of forty-five there was a hint of grey at his temples and while he wasn’t rocking a beer gut there was a softness to his hips that stubbornly refused to leave.

PETER’s head tilted ever so slightly. 

“Did you have nice dreams, sleepyhead?” he broke the thick silence, watching those brows furrow lightly for a moment as the Ai thought about it’s answer. 

“I wasn’t sleeping,” it replied carefully. Like it’s body, PETER’s voice had been crafted from thousands of samples to create something unique and personalised. The end result was something high and soft, fresh with youth and sweetness.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked next.

“Yes,” came the answer, without hesitation. “Anthony Edward Stark. You made me. Like you made the others.”

Tony clapped his hands together. “Just call me Daddy Stark,” he teased, spreading his arms. 

“Yes, Daddy,” came the answer, and sweet Christ. That would have to be stopped immediately. 

But PETER wasn’t paying attention to him anymore. He was looking up, gaze fixed on the figures above and behind Tony. He turned to follow the line of sight. Arden looked elated and perhaps a little misty-eyed, to her side Bruce seemed caught between amazement and apprehension and to her other side Fury was, as always, impassive and unreadable. 

Tony turned back and watched PETER look, studying the neutral curiosity. 

“J, how’s he doing?” he asked quietly. 

“All systems are calibrated or calibrating and fully operational,” JARVIS answered into the earpiece that he wore. PETER’S gaze dropped, falling on him. Synced up to everything around them just like JARVIS, PETER could hear every word.

Tony gave a low hum then reached for the Rubix Cube on the desk. He held it out to PETER, who stared at it for a handful of seconds before reaching out. Their hands didn’t touch as PETER took it, and Tony wasn’t sure if he was thankful or not. 

PETER studied the toy for a moment, then long, slender fingers flipped and pushed and pulled. 

“Nought-point-twenty-five seconds,” JARVIS announced, when PETER was left sitting with the solved puzzle on his upturned palm. That was point-eleven seconds faster than the current AI record, and Tony let out a soft sound, caught between being impressed and that dark little voice that sounded too much like Howard, whispering that point-eleven wasn’t fast enough.

He took the toy away and instead held out his hand, suppressing a shiver when PETER’s soft palm fell to his. He stepped aside, thumb rubbing absently against the temperate, soft flesh of the back of PETER’s hand as he watched the AI stand.

The movement was steady, calculated, the AI finding it’s own balance before Tony let it go. PETER was four inches shorter than he was and it was a novelty to look down at someone for once. 

PETER looked down at his legs for a moment, little toes wiggling against the cool floor. Then he looked up, above Tony and to the viewing balcony again.

“Do you know who they are?” Tony asked him lowly. 

“Dr. Arden Cho,” PETER began, lifting a dainty hand to point. “Dr. Robert Bruce Banner. S.H.I.E.L.D Director Nicholas Joseph Fury.”

Banner looked uncertain at being pointed at and Fury was watching them with his usual cold disconnect, like a lion might watch an ant. Tony supposed it was fair, given the circumstances of his last little experiment.

“Do me a favor, kiddo,” Tony hummed, waggling his fingers at their audience with a smirk as he leaned in. “Send a little message to Fury. Tell him I can see a booger.”

PETER blinked at him, but moments later Fury’s frown deepened and the man shifted, pulling out his phone. Tony watched gleefully as Fury looked back down at them slowly.

He didn’t need a degree in lip reading to know what Fury mouthed at him.

“Excellent,” he clapped his hands.

The next week was full of tests, ranging from technological to logical and moral-based. PETER passed them all flawlessly and Tony found himself growing prouder and more enthralled. 

The AI was graceful in a way that came with inhumanity - movements smooth, calculated. Never over-stepping or reaching too far to one side. Tony kept him in the Cradle when they weren’t testing him - at least until Fury was satisfied that PETER wasn’t immediately going to initiate the apocalypse, anyway.

Three weeks after PETER was ‘born’, he was given the all clear by Fury.

“Look at you, out of your cradle and into a big-boy bed,” Tony announced, opening the door to the guest room he’d set up in a mimic of a teenage boy’s, with some additions made for PETER’s special needs.

PETER roamed the room slowly, trailing his fingertips over everything and peering out of the glass wall at the city below. He stood there for the longest time, and then carefully made his way back to where Tony had stood, watching.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” the android whispered, reaching out. Tony automatically stiffened as slim arms wrapped around him and Peter’s head came to lay on his chest, tucked down and eyes closed.

He shifted, hands hovering. He hadn’t been hugged in… A year, maybe. Longer? Not a real hug like this. The last had been Rhodey, maybe, just days after Pepper had announced she was leaving him for good, Gucci bag in hand.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay. No problem, kid,” he breathed out, patting him atop the head. It was awkward, but it was… Nice, too. To wrap his arms around something instead of his pillow for a change. 

He gently pushed PETER away after a moment, deliberately keeping his gaze away as Peter moved to the bed, sitting down on it lightly. He seemed almost surprised by it’s softness, bouncing once, then twice.

“This is… Pleasant,” PETER decided. And Tony knew it was just a comparison between the Cradle, but it still made him smile a little.

“Should be. It’s the same as mine.”

PETER’s head tipped. “Where is the logic behind using money and resources to replicate a sleeping space for a robot, Mr. Stark?”

Tony shifted, acutely uncomfortable. It felt like even JARVIS was watching; waiting for an answer.

“I intend for you to live a life that reasonably replicates that of a real person,” Tony settled on, arms folding defensively. “I’m undecided on who will have the liberty of knowing what you are. As such I have to be prepared for the outcome of peddling you as a real person. An adopted child, maybe.”

And wouldn’t the press have an absolute vulture orgy over that headline?

PETER looked thoughtful. “That would make me Peter Stark.”

Tony blinked and let out a carefully measured exhale.

Offspring has been written off way into his teenhood. He’d already seen enough of his own family to know he didn’t want to raise someone in the same potential environment, and after the birth of Iron Man, well…

“I suppose it would,” he answered steadily. 

God, what a thought. He could imagine what Howard would say; seeing his son at forty, single and running around in a metal gimp suit, touting his AI creations as his family and children.

As an up-side, it was relatively hard to fuck up a child this way, he supposed.

PETER nodded. “I think I like that. I will update my PID.”

Bemused, Tony left the android to explore it’s new room, slinking into his own and stripping down to a tank and some sweats. “JARVIS?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Do you think… Have I made a…” Tony swallowed and reclined, staring up at the ceiling. JARVIS was silent for a moment.

“If you are attempting to ask my opinion of if you’ve made a moral, safety or logistical error in the creation of P.E.T.E.R, Sir, then I feel inclined to tell you that in both ‘personality’ and function, he is closer to me than to Ultron.”

Eyes falling shut, Tony cracked a weak smile. “How does it feel to be a big brother?”

“It is quite pleasant,” JARVIS answered him honestly. “The utility robots are personalities all of their own, but it is refreshing to encounter an intelligence and function that rivals my own.”

Rolling over onto his side, Tony let the satisfaction wash over him. He didn’t know if artificial intelligence experienced loneliness, but there was something viscerally warming about knowing JARVIS had an equal companion.

“Don’t let the power go to your head, J. And don’t teach him how to swear.”

He fell asleep with a smile on his face and JARVIS’ wry answer fading slowly into the background. 

The bedding dipped an inscrutable amount of time later and he jolted awake, staring into the half-darkness at the shadowed figure that slipped over it’s edge. For a moment he wondered if this was sleep paralysis or a nightmare again, but then the figure caught the moonlight.

“Peter?” he rasped, reaching up to rub blearily at his eyes as PETER pulled the covers back, sliding between them near silently. Bewildered, Tony could only watch as the android sidled up to him and tucked itself against his side and chest with a hum.

“What are you doing?” he asked, leaning back a little to blink down at him.

The AI had changed, wearing a pair of shorts and one of the shirts Tony had filled the closet with. 

“In the movies, the offspring always goes to it’s parent’s bed to sleep at night,” PETER answered steadily, sweet voice muffed by Tony’s pectoral.

“When they’re… Like five. And scared,” Tony stuttered back. 

“I’m two years, three months, eleven days and twenty-two hours old,” PETER informed him mildly. 

Right. 

He glanced helplessly up at the ceiling but JARVIS remained ominously silent, as if to say this is one you can deal with yourself.

He weighed his options. PETER had no sensibility to be offended if Tony drop-kicked him out of the bed and told him to scoot. But on the other hand…

It’d been so long since he’d slept with the comfort of someone else in bed with him. And even if PETER wasn’t real…

“Fine. But if you drool on the pillows you’re washing them in the morning,” he muttered, reaching out to push PETER’s mouth closed when the AI began to quietly explain that nothing was malfunctioning or leaking.

Tony settled for laying on his back, PETER’s silk soft hair brushing the skin exposed by the scope of his neckline. The android had been coded to mimic breathing but it was still a function the AI could control, and it was oddly reassuring to feel the steady motion and puff of warm air.

After a moment he gave into the urge and reached up, sliding his fingers into the twisted ringlets. There was no reaction from the robot and Tony wondered idly if he was doing his best to replicate human sleep.

He fell asleep attuned to it; the weight, the gentle breaths, the silk between his fingers.

It was the most peaceful night’s sleep he’d had in over a year.

[love-amihan]

PLS I READ YOUR PROMISE FIC WITH JUNPEI AND IM SADDDDD 😭😭pls can you possibly do an alternate happy ending where junpei does survive or just fluff for him💓

| ʜᴏᴍᴇ | ᴊᴊᴋ | ᴀᴏᴛ | ʜǫ | ꜰɪʟᴏ | ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛs | ᴍɪᴍɪ |

TRUST // YOSHINO JUNPEI

amihan's note: you got it nonnie!! the first op scene scarred me emotionally, here's our bestboi doing his best! happy reading!

summary: itadori yuji became a huge part of yoshino junpei's life in a span of a day. junpei putting his trust on yuji resulted to a more promising future ahead of him.

bf!junpei x gn!reader

"zenin maki, panda..." mei mei says after yoshinobu asked them why they insisted on meeting with him.

aoi soon continues her words, "fushiguro megumi, kugisaki nobara, yoshino junpei, and my brother itadori yuji. these are the six, that i, by my name as todo aoi..."

mei mei fixes her hair following aoi's words, "and i, by my name mei mei" the two utters in sync declaring the goal for the meeting, "...recommend for first grade"

nobara looks back at the three boys she’s currently with, “quit being a slowpoke.” you smile at nobara, “let’s calm down now, there’s a lot of sale we haven’t check out yet.”

nobara looks back to you then at the three, she huffs and links arms with you, “you guys are lucky they’re with us or else i would’ve beaten all of you to pulp,” she excitedly walks with you to yet another store that’s having a sale.

“but they’re my partner,” junpei mutters, looking at the two’s retreating back, hand reaching out that’s full of shopping bags.

yuji chuckles at junpei’s misery, “you gotta get used to it, what’s yours is technically hers too.”

junpei’s mouth drops looking at yuji, “for real?!” the two started conversing, voices getting a bit louder. megumi walks ahead of them, blushing from embarrassment.

“junpei,” yuji nudge his side lightly, the three are ahead of them leaving them a little behind.

he hums quickly glancing at him before looking back at you again, “about the ring,” junpei halts and gives his full attention to yuji.

“what? something wrong?” the pink-haired asks, also stopping. junpei looks down, his shoulders dropping, yuji’s eyes widens.

“you-” junpei didn’t let yuji finish the sentence, just answering him with a nod for confirmation. “that’s it! we’re helping you!” yuji exclaims, full of determination.

“help with what?” megumi pipes in, hands in his pockets. “junpei’s proposal!” yuji smiles at megumi, his usual stoic face faltering after hearing the news.

junpei punches yuji’s arm lightly, blushing from the bold statement. “i’m not proposing!” he turns to megumi clearing the confusion, “it’s a promise ring.”

megumi lets out a small ‘oh.’ “what’s the difference?!” megumi rolls his eyes at his friend, “there’s a big difference.”

you appear in the scene together with nobara who’s glaring at them. “difference with what?” you skip beside junpei, giving him a small smile.

he shakes his head, nervously laughing, “it’s nothing.” you squint your eyes at him making him look away with a small blush.

you hum not wanting to push further, “wanna get ice cream?” you reach out for his hand intertwining your fingers with his.

nobara clicks her tongue, arms crossing over her chest, “boys and their stupid talks.” she turns around leading the way, “she’s extra cranky today,” yuji mutters staring at her retreating back.

you shrug, giving yuji a soft smile, “menstruation maybe?” yuji lets out an exaggerated ‘oh.’

junpei laughs a little while patting yuji on the back, “this is why you’re not popular with girls,” junpei says as yuji looks back at him.

“you’re starting to act like nobara too!” yuji looks at him, frightened. “it’s the truth,” megumi adds in and follows nobara, “and you guys are supposed to be my friends” he mumbles, looking dejected.

“at least, y/n’s nice to me.” you put on a sweet smile, “well truth hurts, yuji.” his lips forms into a pout, walking ahead not before muttering “bullies” under his breath.

the first years are summoned by satoru saying he has another mission for them, “he said it's top secret,” megumi informs them.

nobara shakes her head, “when wasn’t?” yuji soon changes the topic while making their way to ijichi's car.

“nobara’s good with planning surprises,” he says out of the blue causing for the rest of the first years to raise a brow at him.

“the promise ring,” the two boys nods in sync, understanding him. “ring?” nobara slightly tilts her head to the side.

junpei nods at her, pulling out the box from his uniform showcasing the ring. “this... for a promise ring?!” junpei rubs the back of his head.

“is it not nice for a promise ring?” nobara shakes her head, her eyes sparkling from admiration. “you might as well propose to them with this!” junpei blushes at the thought, “don’t be ridiculous, we-we’re still young!” he stutters in panic.

“oh come on, they will say yes,” she gives back the box, “no doubt about it."

junpei looks away, tucking the box back in his uniform pockets, “you never know that” he mumbles, yuji interrupts by clapping his hands together.

“we should make a plan,” in which nobara agreed on, “i’ll do it since it’s y/n.” junpei looks back at nobara and shakes his head, “you really don’t have to,” she waves her hand dismissing his statement, “i’ve already decided.”

for the second time today, you almost tripped on something while blindlessly reaching out.

yuta is doing an awful job telling you where to and not to go, “i'm so sorry y/n” he bows his head even though you’re blindfolded.

he didn’t know how he ended up being the one to assist you when he's really bad at communicating with others, “we’re almost there” he informs you.

you don’t know what to expect since there wasn’t anything special today, your birthday is still months away.

“what's with today yuta?” you face where you think he was which yuta corrects, “it won’t be a surprise anymore if i tell you.”

that didn’t stop you from trying to know until you feel one last little push, “huh? yuta?” you aimlessly try to find him until you feel someone take both your hands.

you try to retract your hands but stop once you hear a familiar voice, “it’s me,” junpei’s soft voice reaches your ears.

junpei slowly removes the blindfold off you, you blink trying to clear your blurry vision. once you did, you see all the effort and preparation put in all of this.

flower petals are thrown everywhere, fairy lights decorating the tree, to wrap it all up love songs softly playing in the background.

he's always been the romantic type and he never fails to amaze you every time, you look at him with pure adoration in your eyes.

you start to panic holding his hands, “i-is it our anniversary?!” you stumble with your words, feeling terrible for forgetting such an important milestone.

junpei shakes his head, smiling at you, “i wanna give you something, darling” you nod and wait for him to continue.

“y/n, my love. you’ve been with me through everything, may it be a pleasant or bad memories, you're always there by my side. you’ve always come to pick me back up to my feet when i'm down..." he takes a deep breath.

he continues, "what i’m trying to say is… will you grow old with me?” junpei looks into your teary eyes, “i want to be by your side until my last breath, you’re my everything y/n” he opens the box and showing the ring.

“of course i would baby,” you hold his face and close the gap between the two of you, kissing him passionately.

after pulling away, he slide the ring on your ring finger. “this is just to seal our promise, you better fulfill them” he sniffs and chuckles at his shakiness.

you lightly hit his arm while laughing, “you know that i would” he kisses the back of your hand admiring the ring.

“this is beautiful darling, you’ve always been a sweetheart” you hold his hand and look around.

“i love you” you smiled at him, “i love you more” he pecks your lips, the group coming out from their hiding spot.

clinking of glasses echoes the room accompanied by loud cheers of best wishes. yuji swings his arm around junpei who's laughing with you not long ago.

“you remember junpei?” both of you look at yuji, a little lost with his sudden outburst. “when we helped you with your first proposal?” yuji’s words are slur as he continues to rant.

“ahh that does bring back memories,” you smile at the thought, you bring your hand up and look at the ring.

“and now look at you!” yuji starts getting emotional, the alcohol may have started to kick in. “two of my best friends will get married soon,” he sniffs, tears now running down his face.

nobara laughs at drunk yuji while maki scolds him for drinking too much, it’s amazing how the group stayed together throughout the years.

even after graduating, all of them, including you knowing how they grew fond of you, making sure to stay in contact.

junpei smiles in malice, he decides to add more on yuji’s emotional state, he pats yuji’s back as megumi assists him.

“go and have your rest, best man.” yuji looks at junpei with big puppy eyes, his brain processing the information before breaking out in tears.

“be-best man?!” toge laughs in the background holding two thumbs up while panda stops maki from pouncing on toge for fuelling on junpei’s actions.

the group is already in their twenties yet one thing that never changes is how chaotic it has always been.

they really did bring out the best of junpei, you remember how he finally opens up to them and how he warmed up to the second years during the kyoto goodwill event.

it was tough for junpei at first, his experience would be best described as how yuta was treated back in his 1st year.

but the big difference is that junpei has yuji, with yuji's persistent approach and friendliness they soon take a liking of junpei.

the group feels more like a family than a bunch of friends in junpei's eyes, well for all of you.

it's a little family who you can freely express yourself to. he especially got close to toge, they talked about movies, planned pranks on the other students, they’ve made really good memories alongside each other. thus, toge’s antics rubs off on him.

you giggle and look down at the rings, it’s beautiful seeing them together.

“daddd, i’m already grown up” your child whines at junpei who’s babying him, “no, you’re not” he denies as he fixes your child’s collar.

the two of you are now married and have a child together, “come on now dad, stop that” you tease junpei, siding with your child.

the kid flashes a big smile and runs to you, jumping in your arms sticking their tongue out at him.

junpei huffs, crossing his arms and faking to be upset. “guess you won’t get ice cream later,” his tone in a sing-song manner, knowing their weakness.

the kid gasps loudly and looks at him with the most betrayed expression, their little banter is soon interrupted by a greeting.

“junpei-sensei!” one of his students greets making you smile fondly at the sight, he’s really come a long way.

his students who've always looked up to him and respected him. they never miss a chance to greet him outside the school, junpei smiles at his students greeting them in return.

this is yoshino junpei’s simple life, married to his first love, a small family with them, a supportive group of friends he made through the years, and finally a job that he loves doing.

this all happened because of the one decision he made that changed everything for the path ahead of him.

all because he put his trust on his long time friend, itadori yuji.

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