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chocominnie · 3 years

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One Last Time 02 — Pjm. (M)

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst

⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…

⇢ Song : xxxxx

⇢ Previous : 00 01

⇢ Word Count :

⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?

Your eyes shoot open, chest heaving heavily as you let out a blood curdling scream. Not this again. The same dream over and over again each night. It leaves you sleepless. The time on the clock on your nightstand reads 3:04 am. Just only four hours ago is when you fell asleep. But a full night’s sleep hasn’t happened for a year so why would it matter anyways.

Once you catch your breath you unplug your phone from the charger and read some of the notifications. From your window, the night-time critters sing their songs along with the persistant owl that’s somewhere around the apartment complex. You’d only noticed him, the owl, just a few months ago when your cat started meowing with his hoots.

A missed call from your uncle.

Immediately you unlock your phone and dial the number. Bringing your index finger to your mouth you gently nip on it waiting for it to answer, The rings are agonizing to you. If something has happened you only wish and pray it wasn’t as bad as you think. He’s the only parental figure left in your life.

‘‘ Princess! Hello I was just calling to speak to you earlier. But I realized you are five hours ahead of me and you had probably went to sleep.’‘

His soothing voice calms your emotions making you let out a tiny breath of air. Thank god.

‘’Hey Charlie.” You sigh. Looking towards your left, you spot Clara purring quietly next to you. You can’t help but to smile while bringing a hand over to rub her head with your thumb. She’s so small under the shining moonlight from your window.

Her white coat shines brightly amongst her, making you remember the first night you had brought her home. All she did was sleep, and it worried you because you had no prior expierence caring for anything, let alone a small animal. Clara only drank kitten milk and slept back then. Occasionally being awake enough to nip at your fingers whenever you pet or touched her.

Now she’s a bit bigger and walks around the apartment like she owns the place. Quite the little attitude she has, but its too damn cute for you to scold her whenever she does something wrong.

“ Yes I did fall asleep from after a gathering at someone’s house.’’ You continue on, bringing your knees to your chest after opening the curtain of your window fully.

The moons brightness illuminates the entire room, but not so bright for you to complain though. ‘’ Oh- was it Jimin’s? Tell him I said hell-’’

You bite your lip hard at his name. He doesn’t know and you wont even dare to let him know. Knowing him, your uncle would have a fit and oppose to come back to Seoul to ‘set the record straight.’ to Jimin. That’s the last thing you want to do, cause trouble.

‘‘ It was his brother’s house warming party.” You say, lowering your tone in your voice. You look at the nightstand for a couple of seconds just before opening the top drawer of the wooden, polished piece. Your hands shakily pull out a picture of you two together.

It was taken at Marne-la-Vallée, France right infront of Cinderella’s castle. That was the day that you and Jimin had to went to Disneyland in Paris, France. You cant help but to think, with the picture in hand, that it was one of the best nights ever. It was also the same night your virginity was taken.

‘‘ Oh.. I know that tone. Are you two arguing at the moment.”

You shrug, “ I mean you could say that.’’

No you cant.

‘‘ Alright alright I won’t talk more of him. Let’s change the subject.” He chuckles deeply into the phone.

‘‘ How’s Europe? Anything new happening on base?”

‘‘ Same old Same old. It’s been what? 2 years since I’ve left Seoul? The food is different over here. They don’t have kimchi pancakes sadly.”

You can only imagine the frowny face he makes at you whenever he doesn’t approve or like something. It always turns out to be funny.

You giggle into the phone shaking your head slightly, “ Of course. You are in Europe Charlie. Where are you getting food from anyway if you are on base?’’

‘‘ I can go off base to a certain mileage when I am off duty. I just have to report back in time. But you do know that you can always come live on base with me...’ He trails off.

Oh boy. Here he goes. He’s always talking about moving you on base with him. Hell, he’s been talking about it since before he had to go to be based in Europe. By then you were twenty years old and old enough to live by yourself. Growing up in Daegu, Korea since you were six, you felt as if Korea was home to you and you definately weren’t ready to leave yet.

Especially, after losing your parents here. Around eight years old, your aunt and mother were on the way to pick up your father from the airport. With your mom and dad also being military and based in Korea with your dad’s bestfriend, your uncle Charlie, your father had been called to take military leave to go and be based in Korea for the National Guard.

On the way back from the airport, a drunk driver had struck the car knocking them off the road and colliding head first into the railing of the bridge. All bodies were reported dead upon collision, including your aunt. Charlie didn’t take the news well at all, and so did you. Only eight years old and still a bit new to a foreign country. It was devistating for you and Charlie. Charlie did what was right and stepped up to be your legal guardian while taking some time off from the military. Till this day, he treats you like his sacred little daughter and you can’t ask for anyone better than him.

“You are old enough to live on your own and housing is avail-”

You jump at his voice on the line again, being too spaced out from the tragic memory. Before he can go on any longer you cut him off. ‘‘ Im fine with the apartment you left me. Im paying the bills on time and taking good care of it.”

‘‘ Alright fine. But that option is always available you hear me? I will always be ready for you to come with me.’’

‘‘ Okay Charlie” You groan.

‘‘ Alright.. sweetie it’s getting late on this side and it’s already 3 am on your side. Get some sleep okay? Don’t you have a model shoot thingy or something? You have those a lot.’‘

‘‘ Yes i actually do in a couple of hours. It’s been a while since I’ve did a shoot. Please eat and sleep well. Don’t injure yourself.’‘

‘‘ I promise. You promise to do the same right?’‘ He says, rustling movements are in the background.

‘‘ Yes I promise. Good night sleep tight..’‘ You smile as you wait for him to finish the rest.

He chuckles one last time on the other end, ‘‘I’ll always love you, goodnight‘’

Beep Beep Beep

You in a racy light pink lingerie with white duvets and sheets is the concept of your comeback. It’s supposed to symbolize the “Night After’’. Camera’s click and directors yell and praise you in your subtle yet damaging moves and facial expressions. You want.. no need for this comeback to be successful. Not only did your manager schedule this, but she is making sure that they release this same very day.

Nobody in this company’s industry has ever did this before. But you, you are sort of the special one. The special foreigner as they say. It’s not like you don’t like it but you don’t like that they label you as that. Stylists, employee’s hell even anybody who works there treat you as a princess. It’s not bad, but it’s just weird.

‘‘ One last one. Give me a sexy yet innocent look mama.’‘ Elliot, the director says, smiling wide at you.

You slip a finger into your mouth and do a little pout with your lips.

Elliot busts out into a roar of happiness with his hands clapping furiously. ‘‘That’s it mama yes! That’s just what we needed!’‘

Adjusting his microphone earpiece, he turns around to greet and thank everyone, ‘‘ Alright everybody this concludes our shooting! You all worked so hard today. Make it home safe, eat well.’‘

Finally. You sigh out in relief and close your eyes. It’s been a long day. Almost 6 hours of shooting. Three Videos, and five swap outfits for each session of shooting for the ‘’ Night After’’. As everyone heads out and starts cleaning up you bow your head slightly and thank them.

A stylist brings you a satin robe to cover yourself in. You thank her and put it on just before getting up from the bed and walking towards wardrobe. Once you are done putting on your clothes, your manager leads you straight out the exit. Outside awaits the car that drives you everywhere. Literally everywhere.

‘‘ Tomorrow somebody has put in a special request for you to appear as the main lead girl in their music video. It’s short notice and I told them I would have to bump some things around and notify you. But they are paying us and you good money to be in it.’‘

Money? Sounds like a plan.

‘‘ It’s fine. Who am I shooting for?’‘ You say, fluffing your hair just a little while inspecting yourself in the rear view mirror.

Your makeup is still intact with no ruins and the contacts they had given you suited you very well. A hazel with a slight bit of teal. Suddenly the car moves off into the busy streets of Seoul. You can’t help but to notice every couple that walks along the sidewalks. They seem so happy, glad to be around each other.

On the floor of the car lies your little mini backpack filled with all of your items and belongings. Picking it up, you begin to dig through it looking for some hand lotion to soothe your semi-dry hands. Once you find it you gently start to squeeze the tube.

‘‘ Kim Namjoon.’‘

You freeze. Namjoon? The same Namjoon from the group? Joonie? It’s been well… a year since you’ve seen him in person. Hell since you’ve seen all of Bangtan Sonyeondan together. Except for lastnight when Hoseok and.. that guy showed up.

You sigh already knowing the answer from the question you are about to ask.

‘‘ From…?’‘ You ask then put the lotion back in your bag. Slowly you rub your hands together to moisturize.

Your manager quickly flips through the daily planner, ‘‘ Bangtan Sonyeodan but this is for one of his mixtape songs.’‘

Thank goodness.

‘‘ That’s fine. What time will the car be arriving tomorrow?’‘

‘‘ 8 am on the dot. You need to be there by 8:30. I’ll be tending to one of my other models tomorrow so you will be alone. I can send som-’‘

‘‘ No no it’s truly okay. I know how to manage things myself. Besides, I learn from you.’‘ You reassure her with one of your winning smiles, laying your head on her shoulder.

‘‘ Aigoo what am I going to do with you?’‘

The day ends very well. The movies you’ve been watching have kept you occupied. But not occupied enough for you to keep crying at all the sad parts in the chick flicks. Breakups, someone had died, someone had even just spilled something onto the floor and that was enough to send you into tears.Only because when the main lead boy rushed to help clean it up, it reminded you of Jimin last-night helping Isabel.

‘’What is going on with myself.’’ You blow your nose into a tissue for what seemed like the thousandth time today. Clara lets out one of her meows beside you then goes back to grooming herself.

You place her onto your lap and begin to run your fingers through her fur over and over again. Such a soothing effect to you as you stare into space sulking in your thoughts.

Why is it that you weren’t enough for him? Why is it that every single little thing reminds you of him? You gave him your all and he gave you his but what happened? Where did you go wrong? Cooked, cleaned, satisfied his needs. You guys had even started to plan out what you wanted out of a family. When you wanted a baby and what you would name it. It was fun. The whole relationship was fun. Right until that scandal.

Ding.. Ding.. Ding.. DI-

You unlock your phone immediately to stop that annoying dinging noise. Not surprisingly it’s a text from Jeon Jungkook.

Kookie : Im coming over I’ll be there in exactly 3 minutes.

Kookie: Don’t think about leaving either.

Kookie: Im bringing someone with me.

Kookie: We need to have a serious talk babycheeks.

You roll your eyes at the nickname he’s given you. No matter how many times you tell him you want him to change it, he declines. There’s no point in asking anymore.

Why would he want to talk anyways and who is the person he’s bringing. Eh.. it might just be Ryan they seem to do everything together as a team.

As soon as you step foot out of your bed the sound the door clicking makes your head shoot up. How in the living hell does he know the password to your house? Rage takes over you. That’s something that you hate. When people invade your personal space. In this case, personal home.

‘‘ Jeon fucking Jungkook!’‘ You scream, abruptly stomping your feet all the way to and out your bedroom door. Suddenly you stop at the sight of the two faces staring back at you.

Jungkook’s expression holds a concerned yet upset face while the other just stands there calm and cool. But you on the other hand are way besides that level.

Your eyes must be filled with rage and the expression on your face is no good. How dare he disrespect you like that? Bringing him into your home, knowing the bad blood between you two. Oh, they both have something coming towards them. You begin to walk to them again making each step make the floor shake.

‘‘ Get out. Both of you. One you invade my personal private home..’‘

You grab both boys by their collars, making sure to grip the one on the right’s harder than usual. ‘‘ Two, you fucking invite him over here.’‘ You drag each of them towards the exit. Which is going good until Jungkook rips your hands away from his shirt and takes you over his shoulder.

You’ve had enough of him and his invasive ways. Pounding on his back with your fists, you make sure to scream into his ear. “ Put me the fuck down Jeon Jungko-”

You hiss at the stinging sensation on your ass. Did he just? Jimin stands there awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. You make sure to make eye contact with him and roll your eyes. Something that always had and will piss him off.

‘‘ Hush. I told you all of us needed to have a deep talk about you.’‘

Jungkook plops your frail body onto one side of the couch in which he sits next to you. He motions for Jimin to come sit across from the both of you but you aren’t having it.

‘‘ Don’t you do it.” You glare at him. Jungkook sighs harshly only to pluck your forehead two times. You whine and rub it with your index and middle finger.

Jungkook shakes his head in disapproval, ‘‘ When are you ever going to learn? Jimin sit down now.”

‘‘ Truthfully.. I feel as though I shouldn’t be here so-”

“ Good. Get out you are unwanted.” You snap back causing him to give you one of his long stares with no facial expression at all.

Jungkook glares at you just before getting up to throw his hands in the air full of disappointment. “ Enough! “

Yelling. Something else you don’t like to hear being done at yourself. You finally sit still and quite avoiding any eye contact with the both of them.

He sits back down and clears his throat. Jungkook gives Jimin a look before continuing on.

‘‘ I gathered us here to talk about you..”

‘‘ Why. Im fine. How many times do I have to say it. Im fine im fine im fine im fucking fine!’‘ You exclaim, getting more mad by the second. When will people accept this?

‘‘ Baby.. ’‘

Your eyes shoot up to him and his soft voice. You didn’t want to but you did because his voice to you is like candy that melts into your mouth.

‘‘ Don’t call me that. You have a girlfriend at-least be loyal to her rather than what you did to me.’‘

‘‘ Fuck is anybody going to just sit here and listen? Can we at-least get to the source of the problem? Huh?’‘ Jungkook leans back into the couch clearly pissed by your attitude.

Jimin’s the first to speak and holds a firm eye contact with you, almost daring you to break away from it.

‘‘ Fine. Im just going to cut straight to it then. Why are you so jealous? You aren’t okay at all. I seen the way you looked at us yesterday. You wanted to break down so bad but you didn’t. It looks like you’ve been dropping weight day by day why aren’t you eating well?’’

You’re taken a-back by his jealous comment. Although you are you just cannot admit it. You are jealous. You do want him back. You cant bear to see him with another girl but you. But the fact that Jimin is concerned makes you really hope. Just hope that there is something left of you still in his heart.

‘‘ Jealous? Jealous tuh.” You scoff, leaning into Jungkook’s arms where you rest his head on your chest. You only do this just to see Jimin’s reaction and by the look on his face he doesn’t enjoy that move one bit.

‘‘ Yes jealous. I mean why else would you put almond extra-

‘‘ Woah. No need to go there. We established that it was a so called accident lastnight.” Jungkook does finger quotes into the air and looks down at you.

You lift your head up and furrow your eyebrows in annoyance, “ So called? So you really believe that I did it on purpose. Wow Jungkook. Escort yourself out.’’

He sighs, wrapping his arms around you securly in hopes of you settling down a little, “ Honestly it’s not like that. I wasn’t there to see you bake them nor was I watching her eat it. Im just saying that you knew Jimin was coming and obviously his girlfriend was going to come too. It’s a little sketchy is all.”

There’s no fixing what he said. Him adding onto his explanation just made things sound worse than what he’s trying to say. You don’t have time to be ganged up on, nor like it at all. It’s best if they both just leave, to not turn nothing into something.

‘‘ Get out. Now. Before I call and tell Ryan what you said and then she’ll definitely deal with you.’‘ You say, removing yourself from off of him and onto the other side of the couch with your legs crossed.

Mad isn’t even the word to describe yourself right now. You’re just a mixture of all emotions.

Jungkook now looks of sorriness written all over his face. You bite your lip and shake your head while pointing towards the door. He sighs heavily and takes one last look at you while removing himself from the couch. You watch him slip on his coat and shoes.

Jimin gets up from his spot on the couch, ‘‘ I’ll be leav-”

‘‘ Sit down we aren’t done talking.”

He looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed, sitting back down slowly.

Jungkook keeps his head down as he wraps his blue scarf around his neck. Poor baby, but he shouldn’t of said it. “Please better yourself and talk it out with each-other. Im leaving.”

‘‘ Make it home safely.. Kookie.” You sigh once the door closes behind him. Now you’re here. Face to face with Park Jimin.

The same Jimin who cheated on you. The same Jimin you haven’t seen in a while. You take a few moments to take in his appearance. He seems to have re-gained his muscles that are peaking through his black, longsleeve shirt. His thighs are still thick, just like his luscious lips. Of course he changed his hair color to black. But who knows, he might change it again.

‘‘ You’ve been doing well?’‘ You say, voice low but enough for him to hear. You drop your eyes to your lap instead of keeping intact with his.

‘‘ Yes. But you have not. Im disappointed in you. Why are you doing this to yourself? Don’t do this because of me.”

‘‘ Jimin you don’t know the feeling. You don’t know how it feels to be left wondering why you weren’t good enough for someone. Why they had cheated on you. You don’t understand at all and wont ever.’‘ Your voice cracks on the last sentence and you an feel the lump in your throat become sore.

He bites his lip unsure of what to say next. Those words had hit him good inside. ‘‘ Im sorry. I truly am. But you know the reason why we had to end it. I fucked up bad and the media was making the scandal bigger and messier day by day. It was better to just call it off.’‘

One by one your tears start to drop. You nose begins it’s running trip but you sniffle it back up.

‘‘ You could of denied it. You know you could of made a statement and denied it. But you felt something for her didn’t you? Didn’t you?’‘ You semi-yell, sobs already starting to take it’s way over.

He bites his lip once again and ruffles his fingers through his hair, “ Baby..’’

You wipe your tears with your hands making your face even more puffy from the crying. “ I am jealous. I am I admit it Jimin. But do you know i have been suffering for one year and two months? I can’t sleep at night because im so used to your touch at night. I look at every couple in Seoul and think to myself, Dang they seem so happy. What’s their secret?’’

Jimin sits up, making eye contact with you with tears welling up into his eyes. It hurt’s you more than yourself to see him crying. It always has.

‘‘ Please don’t do that. Don’t do this to yourself. Please get help from someone to try and move on. Please. I don’t like to see or hear you make yourself suffer.’ He begs, getting up from his seat and coming towards you.

Jimin sits next to you, hesitantly opening his arms up to you. Would it be wrong to embrace him? He’s being too sincere, but thats what you want right? You decide to just do it, and lean into him only for him to pull you in closer into his chest.You just lay there crying and sobbing while he runs his fingers through your hair. You shouldn’t be doing this. He has a girlfriend. But it feels so right.

‘‘ What does she have that I don’t? Why couldn’t you love me the same way you love her “ You cry into his chest, soaking his shirt with your tears.

You’d been waiting for this moment to just let it out. Let everything out.

‘’ Please don’t make this harder than what it is right now. Just try and forget me and move on. Please.” Hypocritcal. How does he expect you to get over him when he’s the one whos holding you so tight right now. Soon enough his sniffles join yours in harmony.

You raise your head up and look him deep into the eyes while you wipe away his tears, “ Don’t cry Jimin. I’m the one supposed to be crying over you. Don’t cry.’’

He takes your hand away from his face and wraps his fist ontop of yours, “Please promise me you will move on okay?’’

You shake your head no, “ I can’t make that promise.”

He doesn’t say anything. He gently cradles you in his arms and lifts you up. You don’t think to where he is going. You just close your eyes and grab onto his shirt firmly not wanting to let go.

Soon enough you feel the cold sheets over your bed. He covers you in the duvet and leans down to your forehead. A kiss. Your fist is still locked onto his shirt in which he tries to pry it away but you don’t want to let him go. He sighs and raises his arms up as he takes off the shirt revealing an extra plain white wife beater under it. Taking your other hand, he wraps your hand into another fist onto the shirt to where both of your hands are holding onto it.

‘‘ Please better yourself for me baby. Sleep and eat well. “

Is all he says before turning off the lights and walking out your bedroom door. You can hear him putting on and zipping up his heavy coat but you just don’t make a sound.

The apartment door clicks and beeps letting you know he’s already gone.

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word-scribbless · 3 years

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Oh baby part 1

Gibbs x female reader

Summary: Gibbs decides that he is all in with Y/N, even if that means doing something he never thought he would again, raising a baby.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

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Y/N wiped her eyes for the hundrth time that minute. She peered at the sweet little girl sleeping in the brand new crib she had bought just hours ago. Y/N’s whole life had changed with one phone call and now she had to decide how much she wanted to let it change gibbs’.

Y/N and Gibbs had been dating for almost a year. Things were going well. She gave him all her heart, and still space when he needed and he gave her more love than she knew was possible. He may not have said it but he showed it. Everything was perfect, but now everything was different.

Y/N’s brother had gone off the grid a year and a half ago. Before that Y/N had taken care of him, paid for rehab, tried to get him straightened out. He alwaus ran away when he didn’t want to deal with her help anymore but she never gave up.

That morning she got a call. Her brother and his girlfriend, that she didn’t know about ,had been killed in a drunk driving accident. Their baby girl, that she didn’t know about, was in the back seat. She was an aunt and had no idea. Her brother was a dad, and now he was dead. One of them got behind the wheel DRUNK! And could have killed their daughter. What mattered now was that that little girl was in Y/N’s care.

As much as she loved Jethro Gibbs, she couldn’t pull him into this. He already had, and lost daughter, would raising Amelia(her niece) be too painful? Did he want that with her? God she had no clue what to do. She just needed time. What came first for her now was Amelia. If Gibbs down the road wanted to be in both their lives, she’d never say no, but she didn’t want to put him in that place.

So here she was, at Jethro’s front door. She decided she also needed to do what was best for Gibbs and felt she figured that was to call it off. She dropped Amelia off at her best friend’s house, and after a long explanation of why she was now a mom and why she had to watch her for a bit, she made it to Gibb’s. She took a deep breath and knocked on his door.

“Hey” he greeted, kissing her softly. She almost broke into tears right there.

“Hi” she whispered

“Come in”

“I- I can’t” she stammered, catching his attention.

“What’s wrong” he asked, cupping her face

“I think we need to take a break”

He stopped in his tracks and looked at her the way he does when he doesn’t want people to know how he feels.

“I’m sorry” she whispered. Placing her hand on his chest.

“If that’s what you want” he sighed. Stepping back and putting his usual walls up. It killed her to do this, but she needed to.

“It’s not what I want Jethro, it’s what’s best for now. Please trust me and know I care about you okay?”

He wanted to fight for her but didn’t know how so he just nodded.

She began to cry. Before he could even react to her tears she was turning away and rushing back to her car.

It had been three days since she left him and Gibbs couldn’t handle knowing they were over. He drove to her house one night around 11:00 after several sleepless hours and days.

“Gibbs what-“ y/N began when she answered the door.

“Why?” He grunted out, stepping into her apartment.

“What?”

“Why do you need space?” He asked gently and reached for her hand.

“J I-“

“Usually I’d just let you go, if you didn’t want this I’d just accept it. I can’t with you though Y/N. I need to know why, need to know if I can fix it.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong J.” She said, eyes tearing up. He stepped closer to her and cupped her cheeks with his hands.

“Why?” He asked again before he suddenly heard the firmiliar sound of a young baby’s cries.

“That’s why.” Y/N said, pulling away “Hang on” she told him before disappearing into her spare room.

A moment later she walked out with an adorable baby girl who couldn’t be much more than 2 or 3 months old. “ Jethro Gibbs, meet Amelia Y/F/N Y/L/N, my niece. Well my daughter now.”

“Hey beautiful” Gibbs cooed, pushing down his questions to scoop the little girl from y/N’s arms. Amelia cooed softly and nuzzled into his chest. Y/N’s heart melted at the sight and she began to cry again. God she wished she hadn’t ended things, wished things were different and she could do this with him.

“Ryan?” Gibbs asked, referring to her brother. They had met once before, and Gibbs had helped her through dealing with him leaving.

She nodded and answered his unasked questions “Killed, either him or her mom was driving, both drunk. I didn’t ask many questions that didn’t have to do with Amelia.”

“Y/N.” He sighed, adjusting Amelia so he could hug Y/N with a free arm.

“J I didn’t want to break things off but I’m not abandoning her and I-“ she began to admit when Gibbs stopped her with a soft kiss to the head.

“You don’t have to choose y/n.” He assured her

“What?” She thought she was hearing things. So much had happened in the past week, she couldn’t let herself get her hopes up.

“It’s not me or her.” He said rocking the sweet girl back and forth making silly faces at her when she started to fuss. “You can have us both.”

“You’re so good with her.” Y/N said, watching the little girl slowly drift back to sleep in the arms of the man she loved.

“She’s sweet” he said “already reminds me of you.”

“Well she’s got my name” y/n laughed.

“And your eyes” he smiled

Y/N smiled back and lead Gibbs to the couch, sitting down on the chair across from him.

“I didn’t want you to think you were stuck with us.” Y/N admitted.

“Ya want me here?” Gibbs said taking her hand and gently pulling her to join him on the sofa.

“Yes” she said nodding she brushed her finger against Amelia’s face and then looked up at Gibbs, doing the same thing to his cheek, “No one I’d rather do this with. I didn’t want you to feel obligated though.”

“I love ya Y/N” Gibbs whispered, wrapping his arm around her.

Her breath caught she couldn’t speak for a moment, so he took the opportunity to kiss her gently.

“I love you too”

“So don’t give me space, let me do this with you.” He said. Pulling her so her head was on his shoulder, both looking at Amelia.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, please.” He said and placed a kiss in her hair.

“Didn’t want you to- I didn’t know if you’d be up to do this again.” She said, moving her head to look at him, while staying laid on his shoulder.

“ I’d do any thing for you” he smiled “and her” he said looking down at the baby.

“She’s pretty great huh?” She smiled.

“Yeah, just met her and already wrapped around her finger.” He laughed and looked at Y/N “she gets that from you.”

“Just wait until I really have time to teach her.” Y/N laughed

“ what do you say, want a partner in this?” Gibbs asked seriously.

“You offering to do late night diaper changes?”

Mhm he nods and kisses her, laughing when amelia wakes up a bit and gurgles at them.

“How should we do this? I mean I moved to teaching online courses next semester” she began, explaining how she’d moved her job as a college professor around “ so her and I can stay here on week nights an-“

“Move in with me.” Gibbs stopped her to ask.

“Jethro you don’t-“

“I want you to, wanted you to anyway, now I do even more.” He admitted “I’m all In.” He said smiling at the little girl who was awake again and looking at them both curiously.

“What do you think Amie, should we live with Poppa?” Y/N cooed and heard Gibbs breath hitch a bit at the name.

Amelia made happy baby noises and y/n giggled, looking up and Gibbs.

“I think that’s a yes.” She said kissing him.

“Poppa?” He asked with a nervous smirk.

“She doesn’t have to call you that, you can be Gibbs if you want I just thought it sounded nice.” Y/N offered and Gibbs loved how much she trusted and loved him. He was afraid she wouldn’t believe he wanted to do this, but suddenly they were a team and he couldn’t have been happierZ

“I love it, just wasn’t sure your plan.” He admitted, gently bobbing his knee to get Amelia to rest again.

“She’ll always know who her biological Mom and Dad were, I’ll never deny her that, but she’ll also know that her momma and Poppa love her more than anything.”she said while gesturing to him and herself.

“She’s a lucky girl” Gibbs smiled and y/n smiled but tears came to her eyes. He knew she loved Amelia, but she also just lost her brother.

“You doing okay, with everything?”

“I’m a lot of things, not sure if okay is one of them.” She said and Gibbs nodded his understanding.

“I’m happy about amelia, angry Ryan didn’t tell me, Devistated that he is gone, furious he made a dumb ass decision that got him and his girlfriend, WHO I NEVER MET, killed and almost killed Amelia! But I’m happy you and her are here. And I feel guilty for being happy, but also I’m so angry.” She said with tears in her eyes as she ran her thumb over her little girl’s tiny hand.

Gibbs kissed her head. “Nothing to be guilty about, you are going to raise and love his little girl, more than most people would do. We’ll get through it together.” He said against her head. She nodded and snuggled into his side more.

“Let’s put this peanut back to bed.” He suggested, starting to get up.

“Wait” y/N stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Hmm?”

“How bad would it be if we didn’t put her back in her crib yet? I just want to be with both of you.” She asked quietly.

Gibbs smiled and settled back in. “Put a pillow under this arm and I’m a better place to sleep than a crib.” He teased and moved so Y/N could wedge a pillow gently under his arm. She curled into him again, pulled a blanket over her legs and gently held amelias hand again.

“I love you J.” She whispered and turned her head to kiss his chest.

“I love you”, he replies, kissing her head “and you” he whispered, leaning in and kissing amelias head too.

———-/

Next chapter

@gibbsandpridegirl @averyhotchner @andreasworlsboring101

#ncis fic #female!reader #ncis imagine #ncis x reader #leroy jethro gibbs imagine #gibbs x reader #gibbs imagine #leroy jethro gibbs x reader

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bright-molina · 3 years

Text

Cross My Heart: A History

Intermission: In which you can’t help but recall your history with Bobby and everything you went through. Always side by side.

aka “We interrupt this program”

word count: 2144

warnings: brief and kinda vague implications of parents dying/leaving

a/n: So here’s today’s episode of Cross My Heart. Really this a look into the relationship with Bobby and why it means as much as it does. It’s a little different but I thought it would be nice insight. Enjoy!

*flashbacks are in italics

The silence in the car was deafening.

It never was.

Especially not with Bobby, Carrie, and Kayla. Especially after a show. This was different though.

It was a small car but Bobby had made sure to put as much distance between the two of you as possible. Your thoughts drifted as you stared out the window, driving the very familiar routes with ease.

“Again?”

“Again.”

It was dark and your head was buried in your knees but you knew who it was immediately. You could feel the opposite end of the couch sink a little and peeked up for just a moment.

The last few months in that big, old home had been difficult but nearly every night without fail Bobby found you sitting in the living room in the spot closest to the window. He knew of the nightmares you had well enough.

“I can’t -” Your voice shook and he shifted to look at you. “I can’t remember what he sounded like.”

The two of you had been kids at the time. Six year old kids who had gone through way too much. More than anyone should have to.

The silence was loud and tense and finally Bobby sighed and admitted something to you. “I-I don’t remember what mine sounded like either.”

Months had passed and the two of you had developed your own little routine. Bobby hated talking about his reasons for being there but you needed to talk about yours. He let you talk as much or as little as you wanted to and listened every single time without fail.

This time, though, he moved closer and the shaky exhale he let out was much like your own. “That’s okay though. You have me. And I promise I will talk so much that you’ll forget what everybody else sounds like.”

It had worked. You laughed through the tears streaming down your cheeks and for the first time in months you actually felt okay.

“Hey,” Kayla’s voice broke you out of your thoughts as you pulled into her driveway. She’d noticed you going through the motions and had tried her hardest to avoid saying anything until now. “It’ll be okay, I promise.”

“Will it?” Your voice was quiet, barely audible to her over the music playing through the radio. One glance in the rearview mirror revealed Carrie and Bobby having their own hushed conversation.

“Of course it will,” Kayla sounded positive and you were tempted to believe her. “You’ve gotten through harder things.”

She gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before getting out of the car, making you promise to text her later. You only nodded, her words ringing loud in your head.

“I heard you.”

“Heard me what?”

Even at just over seven years old you knew what was happening well enough. It was only a matter of time. For both of you.

“You sounded good.”

Bobby knew what you meant then. You watched the grin on his face fall and you quickly shook your head, sitting up a little taller in your usual place by the window.

“I’m serious,” You moved over a bit, a silent invitation for him to join you. “I didn’t know you could sing. And - and the guy said you could have one of those guitars he always brings with him.”

“I didn’t know either,” Bobby sat down in the spot beside you and stared at the empty space in front of him. “He said it's red. Said it’s waiting at -” You watched the smile grow on his face again. “At home.”

The two of you talked until the sun went down. Like you always did. It wasn’t until you were walking to the kitchen side by side that it really hit you. Bobby was leaving.

“I’ll come see you,” He promised after asking you what was wrong. Of course he noticed. He always did.

“No,” You shook your head and gave a sigh then. “My da -” The word caught in your throat but you powered through. “My dad's sister, my aunt, came to see me the other day when you were gone. She said nobody ever told her but she’s moving here now and next week I’m moving in with her.”

Bobby frowned, dropping the fork on his plate and leaning forward against the table. “You didn’t tell me.”

“I didn’t know how,” You shrugged easily. Too easily.

“You can always tell me anything.”

And though the chatter all around you was loud, all you could hear was him and the single thought swimming in your head.

You copied his movements and leaned forward just as he had. “Can I tell you a secret then?”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

“I’m gonna miss you,” For a second you debated stopping there. But then his serious look turned into a gentle smile and you sighed before admitting, “You’re my best friend and I’m gonna miss you.”

Bobby nodded and finally picked up his fork, continuing with his dinner as you did the same. Just moments later when you were distracted enough he returned the gesture. “I’m gonna miss you too.”

“Move over.”

You jumped at the sound of Carrie’s voice in your ear and turned to look at where she was leaning forward on the center console. “What?”

“Move over, I’m driving.” She repeated, staring at you until you opened the drivers side door. While you walked around the front of the car, Carrie climbed across the center console until she was settled in the seat.

The moment you closed the passenger door she started driving. For a little while she said nothing, simply glancing back and forth between you and Bobby, both of you staring out opposite windows.

“I’m positive it’s gonna be okay, you know,” Carrie looked at you as she stopped at a red light, putting the music up to hide the conversation you were having.

“Kayla said the same thing,” You shook your head, cracking a smile for just a second before it faded. “How do you know?”

“Because you’re Y/N and Bobby,” Carrie said it so easily that you couldn’t help but look at her and believe her. “Things have always worked out in your favor.”

You stood on the sidewalk in front of a house that was apparently brand new. At least it was to you. Your Aunt Sofie talked loudly on a phone held to her ear as she lifted your few bags out of the trunk of her car.

She spoke big, angry words you didn’t understand the meaning of and constantly adjusted the tight ponytail her hair was in. But when she looked at you it was with a kind smile. One that made you believe you’d be okay there.

“Don’t worry about that,” She told you when you asked her about the phone call. “Just some work stuff. Now come on, let’s go get you settled.”

She had offered you her hand but before you could take another step somebody called your name. You looked at her and she looked at you and it took a moment to realize your name hadn’t come from either of you.

Your eyes narrowed in the direction of the voice and you really couldn’t believe your eyes.

“What are you doing here?” You and Bobby shouted at the same time, you confused and him excited. There were three people with him: the man from the other day, a woman frowning at her phone as she typed away angrily, and a girl around your age.

They all stopped on the sidewalk while he ran and practically tackled you onto the floor.

“I live that way,” He waved behind him down the street and you were sure the shock on your face was obvious.

You pointed at the house behind you just as he had, “I live here.”

The two of you laughed together and barely paid any attention as your Aunt Sofie walked over and introduced herself to Bobby’s family.

“Oh!” He left you for only a few seconds before coming back, dragging the girl along with him. “This is Carrie.”

“I can introduce myself,” She huffed at Bobby, who only smiled and rolled his eyes, before turning to you with a grin. “I’m Carrie.”

“Y/N.” You returned the smile and you were positive then. Everything had worked out okay. It was perfect and despite everything else, it would all be okay.

It would always be as long as Bobby was there beside you.

Bobby couldn’t get out of the car fast enough.

Carrie had only just shut it off before he was all but sprinting inside without so much as a look back. Your phone vibrated in your pocket again but you paid it no mind. You knew exactly who it was and you had no intention of answering him now. There were other problems to think of at the moment.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You sighed, letting your head fall back against the seat as your thoughts finally went quiet.

“No tomorrow. You’re crazy if you think I’m leaving you alone right now,” Before you could ask her what she meant she got out of the car and ran for your side, opening your door and dragging you out.

“Care no, I can’t be here right now,” You insisted, not budging from where you stood.

“Of course you can,” Carrie held your hands in hers, forcing you to look at her. There was a serious look on her face as she stared at you. “This is home. We’re home and I’m not letting you leave.”

“I’m not letting you leave.”

“You can’t make me stay.”

“Maybe,” Your admission made Bobby turn around to look at you. The anger on his face was obvious but it didn’t stop you from moving towards him. It never did.

Carrie watched the interaction closely as you left her side, wondering briefly if you would be able to get through to him where she couldn’t.

“But I’m not gonna let you be alone right now, either of you. So if you leave, we leave.”

“Why do you care?” He didn’t mean the words but he couldn’t stop them. “You don’t have to care. Nobody does. No one ever has to care.”

Knowing why he felt that way didn’t make it easier to hear.

Their mom - Lori - had left when they least expected it. And their dad, as hard as he tried, was still unable to leave tour to come back to them. There they were, two thirteen year old's suddenly on their own one morning. It was enough to make them feel as terrible as they had years ago.

“This is your home, Bobby,” You motioned all around your own living room, the space the three of you had been staying in for the past few days.

Pictures of you, him, Carrie, and Kayla were scattered around in mismatched picture frames. A jar filled with spare guitar picks sat on the counter. Recordings of old home performances were collected on dvd’s under the tv.

But you weren’t talking about any of those things.

“We are your home,” You caught him when he practically collapsed into you upon hearing your words and how serious you were. His body shook and soft cries escaped him for the first time since the week before. “We’re your home and I’m not letting you leave.”

“I should’ve never answered those stupid messages,” Your head dropped and you shut your eyes tightly, trying your hardest to keep your composure. It wasn’t working. “It was a mistake.”

“It wasn’t,” Carrie thought of the moment they’d interrupted back at the venue. Of how intimate it seemed. Of how completely and utterly happy you looked. That was a look she’d never seen before. “Mistakes were made but messaging him wasn’t one of them.”

Carrie could tell you didn’t believe her and she didn’t blame you. It was hard right now and she could understand the doubt you felt. She knew those feelings well enough.

“Come on,” She locked her arm with yours and pulled you close as she led you inside the house. “You guys will be okay. It might take a while but you’ll get there.”

You weren’t sure who she was referring to but you didn’t ask.

The walk you made to her room was silent and familiar and comfortable. It wasn’t until you passed Bobby’s room that your thoughts started running wild again and the twisting nerves returned.

“Hey,” Carrie noticed you tense right away and she was quick to shut the door behind her. Your phone started vibrating again and this time she took it. You watched as she frowned at the screen, silenced the ringer, and stuffed it under a pillow. “I’m right here for you. Okay?”

“Yeah,” You nodded and took a deep breath, giving her the best smile you could manage at the moment. “Okay.”

Tags:

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Cross My Heart: @who-even-is-galileo @the-romanian-is-bae @p0gue420 @jemimah-b99 @echocharm17618 @grace2000 @quillsandtypos @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @mystic-writings @ifilwtmfc @marinettepotterandplagg @canadailluminate @skys-writings @phantompogues @biqherosix @wanniiieeee

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#a little different but important i think #luke patterson #julie and the phantoms #luke patterson x reader #julie and the phantoms fanfiction #jatp fanfic #julie and the phantoms fanfic #julie and the phantoms x reader #julie and the phantoms imagine #jatp fanfiction #jatp x reader #jatp imagine #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson fanfiction #luke patterson fanfic

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secretsofthedarkestkind-arch · 3 years

Text

Elena starter for @storieswrittcn (this may or may not have gotten away from me, Remember you said you like novella. I also took part of the ramble part one but altered it also)

We are outsiders Living inside a broken world We are outsiders And I know sometimes it can hurt But it gets better yeah we'll make it through We'll stay golden when we're black and blue We are outsiders But we're not hiding anymore This is who we really are

It had been fifteen years since she’d seen either of her brothers face to face. Fifteen years since Lee had spoken to the eldest. Fifteen years since she had thought of Mystic Falls, thought of all the ghosts that lurked within the town's shadows. Lee Salvatore had made it a habit to push anything regarding her brothers, that town, or their past to the deepest recesses of her mind. She had built life after life without them, embracing the warped gift of eternity. She hadn’t truly looked back after she’d transitioned. Finally able to become who she really was without the suffocating opinions of the church, her community, or her family.

It wasn’t an easy journey. Slow in it’s progression. Lee’s aunt had always told her she was a soul gifted before it’s proper time; her sexuality, the way she was born, her passion and skill when it came to art, her desire to see the world. None of it fit in the 1800’s. But as times changed pieces of Lee started to belong. Each change brought new opportunities, allowing Lee to start to put herself together.

She was still an outsider, still judged--but what else would you expect living in a broken world? What didn’t fit into the neat little boxes of people’s minds, what didn’t fit the societal norm, was still given so much hate. The only difference was now there were those who fought for equality, unafraid to use their voices to promote change. Those people gave Lee hope, gave her strength. Finding those people throughout the last 145 years had shaped her.

Lee Salvatore was still an outsider, but she was also so much more. She was an artist, one with more alias’ than she could count on both hands. She was a college graduate, several degrees tucked away in a safe. She was a traveler, passports filled with stamps and a mind filled with memories she had never imagined to have. But most of all, Lee was finally able to look in the mirror and accept the person she saw; the youngest Salvatore was who she truly was. She held no more self hate. No more whispers of ghosts past haunted her. She was an outsider, but she wasn’t hiding who she really was anymore.

While Lee had taken the road of self discovery, her brothers’ hadn’t. They’d been living in a siblings quarrel, at least Damon was. Stefan suffered at every turn at their brothers hand whenever they fell into each other's orbit or Damon specifically sought him out. Lee was drugged into it whenever Damon crossed too many lines, risking their exposure to the world.

Stefan had called her no more than seven hours ago asking for her help. There was a trail of bodies leading straight to town, ‘animal attacks’ that couldn’t be explained were catching the eye of news outlets. She hadn’t even known Stefan was back in Mystic Falls. When Lee asked him why he couldn’t just leave, he explained there was something holding him in Mystic Falls that didn’t allow him to--something that could finally give him a sense of belonging--and refused to believe the attacks were Damon. All he wanted was for Lee to be there with him, help keep the spotlight off their kind. The vampire might loathe her brothers, wanting nothing more for them to be miserable, but she wasn’t going to allow Damon to out them.

Which is why Lee was driving down the main strip on her motorcycle. The town was busy; teens scattered across the storefronts trying to enjoy their last hours of summer vacation. She came to a stop at one of the only stoplights in town, rolling her shoulders dreading whatever was to come when she reached the boarding house. The youngest Salvatore felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand, a shiver going down her spine, every nerve ending coming to life in a way she hadn’t experienced in years. Lee let her head turn to the right, following the pull of whatever was happening.

‘What…” The lithe form of a brunette teen who was walking beside another girl was at the center of her focus. “Turn around.” Lee knew the brunette couldn’t hear her words. Her plea was answered as she turned, eyes almost searching. Those eyes, that’s what did it. “Who are you?” A horn from behind her snapped Lee out of her trance, for a nanosecond the two locked eyes. The vampire’s eyes hidden behind her aviators. The next Lee was pulling off, possibly faster than she should have been. Now she had the true answer of why Stefan refused to leave.

----

Lee placed a few notebooks, her sketchbook, and a few pens into her satchel--the one she’d had since she was a teen; a gift from her aunt she’d never been able to part with. She glanced up at the ceiling hearing Stefan’s footsteps on the roof. A sigh left her lips, why had she agreed to this? She was roughly 160 years old and able to enroll herself in a Small Town America High School. It was ridiculous; a complete stalker move. There had to be other ways for Stefan to get to know this girl, if that’s even what he was truly hoping to do. For how Stef had explained the situation, Lee could tell he was only doing this because of Katherine.

Subconsciously her thumb started to play with the band of her daylight ring. She was thankful for the chance of life Katherine Pierce had given her but there was so much Lee wished was different. Shaking her head to break out of her thoughts she moved toward her closet to get dressed. Lee scanned through her options, To be me or be who society thinks I should be? It was a debate she hadn’t had in a long time. To make this work she couldn’t disturb the waters between her and her brothers too much. A short laugh left her lips, that was a joke. The three couldn’t be in the same room without starting something. As it was right now, it was just two of them. With that thought in mind Lee grabbed an outfit that would be her.

Guys white wash skinny jeans that weren’t too tight to show her tuck, a grey and white hooded baseball tee that had a pocket on the left chest, her grey vans, and her black leather jacket she’s had since the 90’s. She finished the look with a black watch. One more look in the mirror and she was pocketing her phone with one hand and slipped her satchel over her shoulder with the other.

She knew Stefan would already be off. His stalker-like tendencies being on overdrive since the ‘animal attack’ last night after Lee had arrived. She ignored Zack who was in his office and headed to the garage, she wasn’t going to run to the school. There wasn’t anything wrong with arriving in style.

-------

Stefan met her in the parking lot. Lee took her helmet off and ran her fingers through her hair, glancing at her brother, her own sunglasses covering her eyes. “Why do you always insist on dressing like that?” He asked, judgement clear in his voice.

“This is me Stefan. You know that. Let it go. You asked for my help so take me as I am or I get on this bike and leave.” She told him. Lee wasn’t going to put up with his judgement. The world had given her enough of that. Plus her brother had already had his fair share of giving her judgement when they were younger. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” Lee stated, “This is definitely traveling into creeper status.” Stefan didn’t answer, just turned to walk through the crowd of students covering the lawn reconnecting after a summer away. She moved into step beside him, she knew they stood out; leather jackets, both well built and confident in their strides, the aurora of not giving a fuck rolling off them both.

They finally found their way to the admissions office, standing shoulder to shoulder. Stefan handed over the file that was supposed to hold all they needed but Lee knew was missing more than a few things. She wondered which of the two would compel the woman. Stefan could but where all he drank was Bambi and Co blood who knew how long it would last. Lee sighs, she’s ready to make the move when something behind them stops her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, her nerves firing up again, and she felt that pull to turn around. She also could feel a warm buzz in the air, a witch.

“Hold up. Who’s this?” The first female says, the witch.

The secretary’s voice brings her back to what’s in front of her, saying exactly what she knew was coming. “Your records are incomplete. You’re both missing immunization records and we do insist on transcripts.” Lee glances at Stefan out of the corner of her eye. The last transcripts she had were college one's back in the 1980’s. She hadn’t done high school since the late 70’s and that was only to get into Yale. Their art programs the top in the country.

Thoughts of the past make her miss her chance, Stefan is taking his sunglasses off, “Please look again,” Lee adjusts her satchel hoping Stefan can do this right. “I’m sure everything you need for both of us is there.” Lee chews the inside of her lower lip, her free hand moving to remove her sunglasses just in case.

The secretary looks back down, “Well you’re right.” Lee tucks her sunglasses into the collar of her shirt as the woman looks back up at her brother. “So it is.” Stefan-1, Humanity-0.

“Thank you,” Stefan, ever the polite one, says. As they turn to go, Lee glances over at her brother’s schedule. Seems they have all but one class together--Lee has art and Stefan a creative writing course. That works.

“You’re welcome,’ The secretary says, her eyes landing on the two teens in the hall. “Ahh! Miss Bennett, Miss Gilbert I’m glad you’re here. Do you think you could show our two newest students around?” She stands up from behind her desk to walk around to the siblings. “This is Lee and Stefan Salvatore. I think they both have a few classes with you both.” Lee takes in who she now know as a Bennett witch, why the magic felt warm. She gives the teen a charming smile before the pull is to much, her head being forced to turn to the brunette beside her. The vampire takes her in, all she can see is someone new. Lee doesn’t see Katherine when she looks at her. “Hi,” The charming smile turning into a much softer one. “I’m Lee.” She offers her hand to the girl.

#v: outsiders & living in a broken world #r:elena #rs: her humanity #s: someone to light your path #tw:mentions of violence #tw: violent thoughts #tw: vampire

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aestheticallyholland · 3 years

Text

NEVER NOT | THE DATE . . .

❃ PAIRING tom holland x fem!reader

❃ DISCLAIMER i do not own the artists (and the reader) that are going to portray the characters, but i do own some of the their names. the plot of the story is inspired to the book and movie 'to all the boys i've loved before' but with changes. the gifs and photos used in this series are edited by me but i get credits to the originals. also, this series is first posted in wattpad by me. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST IT SOMEWHERE ELSE !

❃ WORD COUNT 3.2k words

WANNA BE ON THE TAGLIST? feel free to comment on this post if you wanna be added to this series' taglist to get notified for updates !

NEVER NOT MASTERPOST | LEI'S LIBRARY

"Sometimes, the more you get to know a person, the more attractive they become." — anonymous

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

IT HAS BEEN THREE WEEKS since Tom and Y/N made a deal to pretend as a couple. Who would have thought that they would actually last a week?

As usual, Y/N did her morning routine during school days. Waking up, taking a bath, eating and going out of the house.

She ate the last piece of bread and cleaned up the table before going out of the house.

"Dad! I'm going now!" Y/N exclaimed to her dad who was still upstairs.

"Take care, darling!" He replied back that made Y/N smile before closing the door behind her. She adjusted her bag and walked going to school.

She sang some of the lyrics of never not by Lauv as she was walking until someone suddenly interrupted her and made her startle.

"Morning, love!" A familiar voice suddenly said and that made her almost fall.

"Holland! You twat." Y/N scolded him and that just made him laugh at her.

"Didn't know you had an angelic voice." He said and grinned at her. That made her cheeks blush and felt embarrassed when he heard her sing. No one has ever heard her sing except for her family and Erika.

"H-how did you-" Then she gasped. "You really are a stalker." She teased him remembering that she called him that before.

"Hey! I just want to walk with my girlfriend." He said. All of a sudden, Y/N's heart suddenly pounded so hard the moment he said that. It's as if they were really together as a couple.

No. No. No. No, Y/N. Stop it!

"Whatever, Holland." She asked and flipped her hair and continued walking. Tom just chuckled at her act and jogged towards her to catch up.

"Wait up, babe." He said and that made Y/N roll her eyes.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Going lunch with the one and only Tom Holland was far different from when it was only Y/N and Erika. Y/N was with her boyfriend's group of friends and that made her feel out of place.

As they were laughing and talking, Y/N just sat there awkwardly, not saying anything until she felt an arm around her shoulders that startled her. Tom was already noticing that Y/N was out of place so he did what he had to do.

"Are you okay, babe?" He asked with a concerning face and that made her smile at him.

"Yes, Tom. I just feel out of place." She whispered it so that his friends wouldn't hear.

"I'll make it up to you later." He said. "How about a date after school?" He asked her.

"Well, dating wasn't in the contract so-"

"Stop thinking about the contract for a while." He said. "Consider this as a two-week anniversary. My treat."

Y/N felt a slight blush coming from her cheeks but she shrugged it off and roll her eyes on him, playfully. "Alright, Holland." She smiled at him and he made an expression of joy.

"Hey, Y/N!" She heard Harrison called her and she looked at him with a 'what?' expression.

"Would you slap Tom for 100 dollars?" He joked and that made the other laugh at him except for Tom who just glared at his best mate.

"Shut it, Osterfield." Y/N heard Tom said.

"Who said that I wouldn't?" Y/N joked back and that made his friends laugh more. Tom looked at her like how he glared at Harrison and that made her smile at him wide.

"I'm kidding babe." She said and kissed him on his cheek which caused his friends to tease both of them.

"Shut it, you dweeb."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"Hey, Aria. I won't be having dinner with you guys today, if you don't mind. I'm going out with Tom to have dinner together." Y/N said through her phone on her ear.

"My sister is all grown up." She started and Y/N could hear her squeal from the phone. "Of course, I'll let dad know."

"Thank you, Sis."

"And remember, stay protected!" That was what her sister said. When Y/N got what it meant, she was about to scold Aria but instead, the call had already ended.

"Why are people acting so weird today?" She asked herself as she kept her phone to her pocket until she heard her best friend's voice calling her from the hallway.

"Y/N!" She looked at where the voice was coming and saw Erika running towards her with a paper on her hand.

"Erika!" Y/N called back and Erika reached her and she panted at first from running.

"Why the hell were you running?" Y/N asked as Erika was trying to catch her breath.

"Maybe I should go back to track and field again. Damn, my back hurts when I run." Erika said and stretched her back. "But anyway!"

"I got an A+ for the first time of my life, Y/N!" She squealed and showed the paper that she was holding to Y/N's face. "See!"

Y/N got startled when Erika suddenly shove the paper to her face. "Oh my god, how did you do that?" Y/N asked while scanning through the paper.

"It's called, luck!" Erika exclaimed which caused people to look at her but of course, she doesn't care. "Anyways! Do you want to go somewhere after this?" She asked as she kept her test paper on her bag.

"Tom already asked me out for dinner," Y/N said and that made Erika put her hand on her chest.

"Are you ditching me for him?" Erika asked in a dramatic way and Y/N could just chuckle. "I'm kidding! Go have fun and stay protected."

Y/N glared at her. "I'm not going to do it with him!" She said and that made Erika laugh.

Erika saw someone behind Y/N and smirked. "There's your prince charming. I better go. Enjoy your date, lovebirds!"

Y/N turned around only to meet chocolate eyes looking at her. She smiled at him and walked towards him. He smiled back at her as he stopped walking and just looked at her.

How did she get this pretty? He asked himself.

What the hell, Tom? Another voice asked and he shrugged if off.

"Ready to go?" He asked her.

"Where are we going through?" She asked and they walked together going outside.

"To the restaurant you told me that you and your dad would go." He told her and his eyes widen.

"The last time I went there was a month ago." She said.

"And that's about to change." He said and placed an arm around her as they head towards his car.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It was past six in the evening when they've arrived in the restaurant. Y/N was too excited that when Tom parked his car, she suddenly went out first. She was so ready to eat whatever they're going to order.

This place was full of memories for her.

"Relax, Y/N." She heard Tom say and closed the door to his car to go to her

"I missed this place." She said. "Let's go!" She grabbed his hand and went inside the restaurant.

As they went inside, she could feel the good old vibes that she felt since she first went here with her parents. She looked around and saw a familiar face on the counter.

"Aunt Mary!" She greeted and the lady looked up from the counter. She squinted her eyes to see who it really was.

"Y/N?" She called back and Y/N nodded and walked towards her aunt. She wrapped her arms around her aunt and have a loving hug.

"How are you, my dear?" Aunt Mary asked.

"I'm alright. School is just driving me crazy." Y/N answered and she felt Tom going beside her.

"And who is this young man?" Her aunt asked.

"This is Tom Holland. My—"

"Her boyfriend, Ma'am." He interrupted Y/N with a smile and shook hands with her Aunt.

"My little girl is grown up, oh my." She answered. "Since when, dear?"

"Just two weeks ago, Auntie," Y/N answered.

"Well, I won't disturb you on your date tonight." Aunt Mary teased and turned to Y/N. "The usual, dear?" She asked and took out a pen and pad paper.

"Yes, please," Y/N said.

"How about you, Tom?" She turned to Tom to ask for his order.

"I would like some burger and just soda, please." He said.

"Alright. The usual table is waiting for you Y/N. And the jukebox is there too." Aunt Mary said and Y/N got excited once more.

"Thank you, Auntie," Y/N said and held Tom free hand and head towards the usual table that they use whenever they go in the restaurant.

Y/N sat down and Tom sat down in front of her. He noticed a small jukebox that was on their table.

"Are there jukeboxes in every table here?" He asked and observed the jukebox.

"Not all actually." She said. "When I was a kid, we would go here most of the time and it just happened that Aunt Mary works here."

"Is she like a relative or something?"

"She's my mom's best friend actually since their high school years." She answered. "So she's like my second mother."

"That explains why you're close." He said and looked at Y/N as she tugged her hair to her ear.

"She was the one who took care if me and Aria when my mom passed away. My dad became depressed for a few years because of that and couldn't concentrate on taking care of us."

Y/N could remember her dad becoming depressed when their mother died. He started to drink every night and she would usually catch him crying in his room with a bottle of wine on the floor.

"Your dad really loves your mom." Tom interrupted Y/N's thoughts.

"He does, really." She said and sighed while looking around the restaurant, how people and families are eating happily together. "There are so many memories in this restaurant."

"Like?" He asked.

"This is where my dad met my mom when she was still working here for a part-time job with Aunt Mary." She started. "My mom was a hard to get girl even though she started developing feelings for my dad." She chuckled at the thought.

"Your dad's a fighter then," Tom said and chuckled.

"Indeed, he was." She said and smiled. "They went on dates here until Aria and I was born."

"I wish I met your mom honestly," Tom said.

Y/N just looked at Tom and smiled. She likes that he was just listening to her and he liked that about guys.

She placed her head on her hands and just looked at him. "You're a good listener, eh?" She asked and Tom just chuckled.

"Indeed I am."

Y/N was about to ask something when she got interrupted by Aunt Mary's voice going towards them.

"Your orders are here!" She said with trays on her hands and she placed then down their table.

"Enjoy your date, darlings." Aunt Mary said before going away from them.

"Thank you, Auntie," Y/N said and Tom just smiled at her aunt.

They started to eat their respective food and Y/N was enjoying herself until she remembered what she wanted to ask Tom a while ago.

"How many girls have you been with before Camille?" She asked as she at her fries and looking at him.

He paused for a while to look back to the past. "Two actually, but the first one was like not an official relationship. We just both liked each other until it faded." He answered. "And the second girl was the first girl that I had an official relationship with until things got out of hand that I'd rather not talk about." He ate one of his fries before he continued talking. "Then there was Camille whom I've been with for almost two years."

"I didn't know both of you lasted that long," Y/N said. She only heard about the both of them when they were upcoming seniors and she couldn't believe that Camille finally got the one she had a crush on when they were still in middle school.

And the fact that she hated me because I got to have my first kiss with Tom was just unbelievable. Y/N thought to herself.

"I thought she was worth it until she broke it off," Tom said and looked down. Y/N looked at him with awe and placed her hand on top of his. Tom looked at her and he saw her smile at him.

"I'm starting to get over it though." He said and Y/N just giggled. "That's a good thing, right?" She asked.

"Yep. I like hanging out with you better." He said while taking a bite of his burger.

And that made her heart skip a beat. She felt her cheeks heated. "R-really?"

"Of course." He said with his strong British accent.

She shrugged off the feeling that she felt and tried to change the subject.

"The best part of this restaurant is the jukebox," Y/N said and looked at the jukebox that was on their table. "Do you have a coin with you?" She asked him.

He looked for a coin on his pocket until he felt a tiny circle and got it out. "Here." He handed her the coin.

Y/N got the coin from him and inserted it on the jukebox. She pressed the button where the music will start to play and it was perfect timing that the song that was playing Bring It On Home To Me by Sam Cooke.

"Oh my god. This is my parents' song!" She said in a happy way and looked at Tom. "They used to dance this together when they come here." She said and had an idea. She stood up from her seat and Tom looked at her with confusion.

"What are you doing?" He asked and chuckled.

"Dance with me." She said and grinned.

"Really, Y/N?" He asked her and she nodded.

"Come on!" She insisted and grabbed both of his hands to pull him up from his seat. When he stood up, he placed his arms around her waist and Y/N placed her arms around his neck.

"This is nice." That was what Tom could only say when they were swaying around while holding each other. Y/N smiled at him and felt his shyness to dance. "The people won't mind, Tom. Don't be shy." She whispered in her ear.

"Who said that I was?" He asked and Y/N laughed.

"I can read your face, Holland." She said and they continued to dance until the song came to an end. She placed her head on his chest and could hear his heartbeats.

It was beating fast. She thought but she didn't mind it.

After the song ended, Tom guided her back to her seat like a gentleman. He sat back in front of her and was ready to go.

"I'll just pay the bills to your Aunt. I'll be right back." He said.

"I'll wait for you outside," Y/N said and got her stuff and went out of the restaurant first.

When she was outside, she looked at Tom was on the counter and was smiling while talking to her aunt like a real boyfriend he was.

It felt like it was a real date rather than a pretend one. From the dancing, to the opening up with each other and everything else. It was natural for them already.

What is this feeling? She asked herself.

She looked back at Tom who was already waving goodbye to her aunt and went out of the restaurant.

"What did my aunt say to you?" Y/N asked him and just chuckled.

"She asked how old I am." He answered and opened the door to his car for Y/N.

"Such a gentleman." She said and went inside the car.

"So where are we going now?" Y/N asked as Tom was driving.

"My house. I want you to meet my family." The moment he said that Y/N felt her hands shaking.

"W-what?" She asked.

"Yup, just for a while then I'll take you home. All of them are free tonight and tomorrow, they'll be busy again." He said.

Y/N just nodded but could still feel nervous. She had never had a boyfriend and now she's going to meet her pretend boyfriend's parents.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"Good evening, mum," Tom said to the lady in front of him and she looked at him with a smile.

"Hello, Thomas." She said and noticed Y/N beside him. "Who is this lovely young lady?" She asked.

"Y/N Y/L/N. His girlfriend, Ma'am." Y/N said with a smile.

"Please, call me Nikki. I feel old when you call me Ma'am, honestly." She said.

"Mom, we were just here to drop by. I have to drop her off to her house." Tom said.

"Alright. Please drop by here soon, dear." Nikki said while she looked at Y/N. "It would be nice to have lunch or dinner with you sometime."

"I will definitely drop by soon, Nikki. Tom told me you're a great cook." Y/N said with a smile.

Nikki smiled back and wrapped her arms around Y/N to hug. "You're a great lady, Y/N."

"Thank you, Nikki," Y/N replied and pulled away from the hug to go beside Tom.

"We'll be going now, Mum," Tom said.

"Don't go home too late, darling," Nikki told her son.

"I won't!" He replied and led Y/N back to his car. She waved and smiled one last time to his family before going into the car.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tom parked his car right in front of Y/N's house and turned off the engine. Y/N removed her seatbelt and opened the door to go out and Tom did the same. They walked together towards the front door and stopped when they've reached there.

Y/N turned to face him and gave him a smile. "Thank you for the date, Thomas."

"You're really going to start calling me by that from now on?" He asked and that made Y/N giggle.

"I'm your girlfriend, so yes." She said and giggled more which made Tom smiled at her. He found her so beautiful when she laughs.

"But seriously though." She tugged a hair behind her ear. "Thank you for taking me to that restaurant and for letting me meet your family." She said.

"You deserve it, love," Tom said and Y/N felt a blush when he called her that endearment.

"I'll get going now, Tom." She said and unlocked the front door with her keys and opened it. Before closing, she turned around to look at him once again. "Good night." She smiled.

"See you in school, love." He said and smiled back.

Before she went in, she suddenly went near Tom and pressed her lips to his right cheek. She gave a smile before going inside her house and closed the front door.

Tom was left dumbfounded by the kiss and touched his right cheek like an idiot. He smiled to himself and chuckled because of her cute action. He finally walked towards his car while Y/N watched him through the window and saw him drive away.

She closed the curtain and walked up towards her room with a smile on her face.

❃ TAGLIST @allthisfortommy @kait4073 @lovebittenbyevans @l0ve-0f-my-life @spiitfiires

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland series

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lugialagia · 3 years

Text

New Year Eve

Summary : Peter is bothering Wade to come to Tony’s party for new year eve. Wade finally accepts. Will Tony accept the relationship between his adopted-like son and the mercenary? Ship/Pairing : Spideypool (Peter x Deadpool)

Words : 2;084

TW! : Light swearing (l mean, it’s Wade)

PURE FLUFF

"Come on Wade, please!" Peter whined. "Petey, we already talked about it." Wade sighed. "You know that kind of party isn't something for me." It had been already two weeks that Peter was trying to persuade Wade to come to Tony's new year eve party. This once, Tony had pushed aside his extravagance and put on something simple; 'family diner' with the Avengers. Despite the small comity, Wade didn't want to come. Now, Peter was really starting to beg him since it was in two days.

"Please Wade. It's been two years that I want to introduce you and I think it's the right moment. I told everyone that I'd come with someone." Peter tried again. "It's not a good idea. Everyone knows who I am and I don't think I'm welcomed in the Superman team." Wade replied with a snort. "Superman? Anyway...alright." Peter gave up. "You let me ridicule myself in front of everyone and we'll be away from each others on the new year eve." Peter sighed.

Then, the youngest walked away with a pout. He wasn't really angry, he still had two days to convince his lover, but with one more refusal, his heart was shattering a bit more. The Avengers were like a family for Peter, so they needed to know about them, he didn't want to hide anymore. And everything went well with aunt May, so why Wade was he afraid? If May accepted him, everyone would too. "Oh no baby, don't pout. You know I can't resist this." Wade whined.

"That's exactly why I'm doing this." Peter thought but stayed silent. Wade stopped in front of him and lifter his lover's head up. Peter's expression didn't move an inch. Finally, Peter's sad eyes made the mercenary give up. "Alright! You got me!" Wade said like it was a game. "I'll come to your irreprochable superheroes party." he huffed. "Thanks Wade!" Peter grinned, jumping into his lover's arms.

* * *

The party was about to start in an hour. Wade was standing in front of the mirror, adjusting his bowtie with anger. "Seriously, look at that outfit, l look fucking dumb, Peter." Wade groaned. "And that fucking bow tie that doesn't want to-" "Stop it. You're perfect in this." Peter cut him and helped him with the bow tie, kissing his cheek when he was done. "Come on, we should go or we'll be late. It's already been twenty minutes since you're trying to place your bow." Peter mocked with a chuckle.

Wade mumbled and groaned all the way downstairs. Once behind the steering weel, he was calmer even if he could feel stress starting to build up inside him. He was afraid to be rejected by the others. Not that he would mind, he really didn't care, but that would hurt his little Spidey and that, he didn't want. The whole drive was animated by insults coming from Wade's mouth such as 'move on asshole!' or 'it was fucking red piece of shit!'. Well, it was Wade.

When they finally arrived in front of Tony's house, Peter stepped out of the car and Wade did the same with a long sigh, wishing that everything would go well. He would try to be good and nice. Try. Maybe. As they entered the nice mansion, Friday's voice greeted them. "Mr.Parker, Mr.Wilson, welcome into Mr.Stark's penthouse. Mr.Stark and his guests are waiting for you in the lounge." the AI informed. "Thanks Friday." Peter replied.

The young male took the mercenary's hand to reassured him, but also to reassured himself. He was terrified at the thought of his family rejecting his boyfriend. Even more Tony since he was his mentor. And also Natasha. She looked cold and impassible, but she was melting for Peter. She had taken him under her protection almost as soon as she saw him. Peter led Wade to the lounge where everyone was already there, sipping on their drink or on the couches. As soon as they set foot in the room, Wanda was the one to greeted them.

"Peter! It's been a little while." she smiled and hugged him. "Yeah sorry, I was a bit occupied lately." Peter replied rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I see." Wanda said back with a glance at Wade. She then held her hand out toward the mercenary. "Wanda Maximoff." Wade shook her hand back. "Wade Wilson." he introduced himself with a tiny smile. "Want a drink?" Wanda asked. "Not for me." Peter replied. "Yeah a scotch would be good." said the older man and Peter elbowed him. "Please." Wade corrected himself.

With these words, Wanda went to serve Wade his drink while the couple walked toward Tony, Steve and Thor. As soon as he saw Peter, a large grin spread on Thor's lips. The God liked Peter a lot because he was reminding him of Loki at his age. Tony turned around and his expression was...unreadable. It was a mix between surprise, fury, deception and a protective vibe. Peter introduced Wade to the three of them, whom shook their hands. Once done, Tony wrapped an arm around Peter's shoulders and took him away. "Seriously kiddo? He's your boyfriend?" Tony asked like he didn't believe it. "Yes, why? Something is wrong with that?" Peter asked back curiously. "Yes something is very wrong! He's a mercenary, he's not made for you. You're too...too pure for him. And he's older." Tony stated.

"Tony, I can assure you that Wade isn't the same with me." Peter reassured him. "Peter, listen-" "No, Tony. I know you want to protect me, but can you make a step toward him? Please, try to know him. You'll see that he's treating me right." For once, Tony dumbfounded. It was rare for Peter to talk to him like this. So, to not be a 'grumpy old dad' he sighed, murmuring a small 'alright'. They then walked back toward the men right in time with Wanda giving Wade his drink.

"So...you're a mercenary, huh?" Tony asked coldly. Peter sent him a glare, disappointed by it. Wade, of course, wasn't even phased by the cold tone. He took a sip of his drink before replying to the billionaire. "Yup, that's it. While you save the world from mad men from space, I'm cleaning up the city for good old bad guys." he replied calmly. "So you're saying that you're a superhero there?" Tony asked with a scoff. "I never said that." Wade replied with a dark smirk.

Feeling problems coming, Steve decided to interrupt. "Anyway! I'm glad to meet you, Wade. It's been a while that Peter is talking about you. It's nice to see that you finally came." Well, problems avoided! The little group parted away after a few minutes to talk to others. Peter and Wade were just here, waiting. "I think that your Iron Daddy doesn't really appreciate me." Wade scoffed a bit. "Wade...you're not one that I should go out with, I think it's normal that he's worried." Peter replied softly.

"Am I not frequentable? Oh darling, you're breaking my poor little heart." Wade declared, faking a heart break. "You now what I'm talking about and-" Peter was suddenly interrupted. "Well well, look at that. Isn't it the little spider boy?" said a smooth voice behind them. The couple turned around to see the God of Mischief. "Oh hey Mr.Loki!" Peter greeted with a large smile. "That's Wade." he said as he introduced his boyfriend.

Wade held a hand out toward the God. Peter told him that Loki was now teaming up with the Avengers, somehow saying that he had been controlled during the invasion. But the merenary wasn't very convinced by it. Though, he told Peter that he would make some effort tonight. Loki stared at Wade's hand with disdain. He wouldn't touch the mortal. "Is that the mortal you like?" Loki asked to Peter, ignoring Wade completely. Before the young man could even open his mouth, Wade stepped forward. "Yeah I'm his boyfriend, and as you should know, Mister I'm a fucking God, I'm not mortal and I'd kick your ass for talking to me like that."

Loki arched a brow at the reply since he didn't expect this kind of reaction. The God could see the distress in the boy's eyes. He was probably expecting for it to finish in blade and blood and didn't know what to do. Loki would never admit it out loud, but he liked the kid. Because Peter was always impressed by his magic trick, would it be simple or very elaborated, even when he was showing his combat skills and illusion. And he also was the only one to have greeted him nicely when he arrived. So, he would make an effort and not smash that poor non-mortal's head to the wall. "Well, who said I cannot kill you like a pitiful fly?" he asked with a smirk.

In the end, everything went well because of Loki's efforts. Peter noticed it and he would definitely thank him later. Wade and Loki must admit that they were both happy to have met and talked. Their minds were much alike, they liked each others jokes, torture and killing methods and Peter listened to them without paying much attention, creating a small bubble of happiness around him went he saw his lover becoming friend with the lonely God.

Once they were all around the table, tensions between Tony and Wade were already gone. At first, aprehension was still here and the billionaire was always glancing at the couple, more to check out on Peter. But as time passed by, he was noticing the little attentions that Wade had toward him. The mercenary was filling his glass when he needed to, he was glancing at him tenderly, caressed his arm or held his hand as they waited for the next meal. Peter was right. Wade wasn't that bad. It was then that Tony started to talk with him without any animosity behind.

* * *

When the countdown was about to start, everyone was outside on the balcony, waiting for the firework that would pop when it would reach zero. They were all screaming the numbers from ten. Then, dozen of lights were lightening up the dark sky. Wade gripped Peter's waist and instantly kissed him passionately. "Happy new year, kitten." he whispered. "Happy new year, darling." Peter replied with a large smile.

As soon as the firework was over, the Avengers wished each others a happy new year before going back inside to dance. It was party time and for once, no one was in a bad mood. Even Loki who didn't really want to dance, ended up dancing a bit with the others. Then, came the slow dance. Peter let go Wanda and Wade let go Natasha to find each others again. Wade placed his hands on the boy's waist and Peter wrapped his arms around the older's neck. They moved on the slow rhythm, their bodies tangled like two puzzle pieces.

The couple was in their own little bubble, like they were alone in the world. However, the Avengers were all watching them. "They're cute together." Natasha whispered to Tony. "Mhmm. I wasn't very fond of it at first and I understand why Peter didn't introduce me to him for a while, I would have forbid him to see the guy." he agreed. "But now I can see that they're made to be one." Tony continued as he watched them dance.

Peter's head was stuck on Wade's chest and their slow steps were soothing him. He was slowly drifting off to sleep. Of course, Wade quickly noticed his body starting to go limp in his arms. "Petey pie? We're gonna go home, alright? You're falling asleep on me." he said with a chuckle. Peter barely nodded his head, mumbling a small 'alright'. The mercenary lifted his lover up in his arms before walking toward the door.

"Thanks for the night." Wade said to the others. "Come to ours when you want, l'm sure Peter will be happy." Then, Tony called for him before he could walk out. "Wade. Take care of him." he said seriously. "This kid is like my own. If anything happens to him, I'll say you're responsible of it and I swear I'll find a way to kill you." Tony threatened. Wade laughed, even if he knew that the genius was serious, but he couldn't help but laugh when someone threatened him. "Promise, Stark."

#spideypool #peter x wade #spideypool fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #fanfiction #marvel #fluff #love #new year eve #peter parker #wade wilson #deadpool

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hale-13 · 3 years

Text

Slipping Through the Cracks

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 5 - Broken

Just when his life was finally leveling out Parker luck struck again. Peter has had four opportunities with parents and has lost all of them. The way he sees it, this is the least of what he deserves.

Post-Homecoming - Tony didn’t meet with Peter immediately to offer him a place on the Avengers.

Words: 3856, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen-Teen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Happy Hogan, Ned Leeds

TW: Depression, Dissociation, a single line of Suicidal Ideation, Referenced Child Abuse

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

Peter was silent as he exited Midtown with Ned keeping a quiet pace with him. Seven months ago they would be just as excited as their classmates for the weekend, for the plans that they surely would have made to build Legos or marathon movies or even to just study together. Ned would have been ecstatic to set up in Peter’s bedroom as his ‘guy in the chair’ while Peter did a quick patrol or two. If they were at Peter’s instead of Ned’s, May would attempt some new dish that would, inevitably, be awful and they would order pizza from their favorite place for dinner.

Now Peter never saw any of his limited friend group outside of school. He didn’t build Legos or watch movies or eat take-out pizza and he certainly wasn’t Spider-Man anymore – he had given that up after the Homecoming disaster when he had destroyed Mr. Stark’s plane.

It had been just over six months since he had found May dead in their kitchen and Peter didn’t really do anything at all anymore.

The ER doctors told Peter that she had an undiagnosed aneurysm that had finally burst – there was no way for anyone to know. She went quickly. She felt no pain. There was nothing that Peter could have done even if he was there when it happened.

The reassurances meant nothing really – Peter was numb. May was his last living family member, he had no one else and nowhere to turn. He can vaguely remember telling the social worker that was with him when they told him the news about May that he was alone now. He can remember being taken forcibly from the hospital before he was ready to go, wanting to kick and scream and drag his heels but too shocked to do so. And then everything was a blur.

Somewhere in his mind he knew that he had been allowed to pack up everything important from their apartment to go into storage until he was eighteen besides the bag of essentials he had for himself. He knew that everything else was donated or sold to pay off their remaining debt and the medical bills he had incurred by calling for help when he found May on the kitchen floor. He knew that the social worker told him that, even after selling everything, they couldn’t afford a funeral. He has a business card in his wallet with the number of the crematorium that was holding May’s ashes until he was old enough to retrieve them and, hopefully, give her a proper burial in their family plot next to Ben.

He spent the two weeks after in a group home, mute and dissociating with seven other boys in similar situations. He didn’t go to school, but he remembers the constant stream of unanswered texts and calls from Ned and MJ before his phone plan was discontinued then his phone became a dead relic in his bag. There were a lot of discussions about school that Peter didn’t take part in but, thanks to his full scholarship, he was able to continue at Midtown at least until the end of the year.

And then he was placed with his foster parents.

The Fishers seemed to be pleasant people when Peter first met them; they didn’t force him to speak, they had extensive fostering experience with teenagers and were willing to pay for his subway pass so he could get to and from his school even though there was a decent public school in walking distance. It didn’t take long, however, for their true colors to show.

Now, though, Peter knew the rules. He was always home by his curfew of four on school days and he never went out on the weekends. His grades were perfect. He kept his undecorated room spotless. He cooked supper every evening and breakfast and dinner on the weekends. He kept the house presentable. He stayed out of the Fishers way. Mostly he drifted. His days slid together to the point he had difficultly remembering entire weeks passing him by but it was fine.

He was fine.

“I’ll see you Monday,” Ned muttered as he split off to get in his mom’s car, not acknowledging the pathetic little wave Peter offered in return. A coiling feeling settled in his gut and Perter felt guilt rise up to swirl in his throat. Ned was his best friend and he was treating him like shit. With Peter basically unresponsive, bullies had taken to picking on Ned instead… well except for Flash. Flash had been the only one to back off and stand up for both of them – it helped but didn’t fix everything.

“Better if he leaves you now,” a little voice in his head whispered. “It’s better to be alone.” And maybe at one point he would have fought against that mindset but now he couldn’t help but agree. Peter destroyed everything he touched and everyone around him was doomed for misery. Better for Ned to get out while he could.

Lethargically, Peter began across the empty football field toward the subway entrance – his trip home was always a little tight and he couldn’t afford to miss this train.

“Peter!” A harried voice shouted as his shoulder was grabbed and he was roughly turned around to face a red-faced and irritated Happy Hogan. Peter’s mind blanked for a moment in total shock at seeing the man again after so long. “Didn’t you hear me calling for you?”

“Sorry Mr. Hogan,” Peter mumbled, not making eye contact. He felt the phantom sting from the slap he had gotten for that when he first moved into foster care burning his bare cheek.

“The Boss has been calling you, he wants to chat. You screening our calls now?” Happy asked, accusatory as his eyes raked down Peter’s form. Peter felt a shiver crawl up his spine and kept his sight locked on Happy’s chin, trying to remain as relaxed as possible. It was important to not draw any unwanted attention to himself.

“No sir,” he answered, voice a little rough and quiet with disuse. “I don’t have a phone anymore.” Happy huffed and narrowed his eyes at Peter before steering him to the expensive Audi parked in front of the school.

“No matter, he wants to talk to you in person anyway. Hop in and I’ll take you to the Tower.” Peter gulped and fought the urge to dig his heels in – it wouldn’t be polite.

“I have a curfew of four,” he protested weakly as Happy pulled open the door for him and motioned for him to climb in. Peter hesitated but relented when Happy gave him a little shrug.

“I’m sure May will understand and Tony can always give her a call to clear anything up.” And with that Peter was gone. No one had said her name since she died and the thought… the very implication that he could still be living with his aunt, happy and carefree, was insane. His mind floated away and he felt like he was watching himself as a specter. He saw his body relax but his eyes were distant, cloudy. Happy, for the first time that Peter could remember, didn’t raise the partition between the front and rear seats and, instead, watched Peter in the rear view mirror.

The drive to the Tower took over thirty minutes with traffic and Peter would be panicking about how late he was going to be if he had any capacity to feel at all. Instead, he let his mind wander as the skyscrapers of Manhattan blurred into a grey mosaic outside the window, fat raindrops sporadically hitting the window as a drizzle started. “We’re here,” Happy told him as he parked the car in the underground garage that was reserved for Mr. Stark and other high level staff of the Tower. Peter popped his door open and followed the man to the private elevator that he assumed would take them to Mr. Stark’s office.

“Hello Happy. Hello Peter,” the disembodied voice of Mr. Stark’s AI, FRIDAY, said as the doors closed and the elevator began to move. “Boss is awaiting your arrival in his workshop.”

“Thanks FRIDAY,” Happy said, texting intently on his phone. Peter just remained silent as the elevator began to slow before stopping completely, the doors trundling open soundlessly. Happy nudged Peter out but remained inside the car as the doors closed, leaving Peter alone in the sleek room.

Tony was seated in front of a large hologram of his armor, code scrolling past on his monitor as he made adjustments. “Mr. Parker,” he said as Peter edged closer to him, not looking up from his work. “You’re a hard man to get in contact with.”

Though Tony sounded more forthright than angry, Peter still had to fight the cringe in his shoulders as he came to a stop about ten feet away from the work bench – out of reach and with enough time to prepare if the man were to make any sudden moves. “Sorry,” he murmured, keeping his eyes low and doing his best to keep his shoulders from curling in – the last thing he needed to do was show any weakness.

“No need for apologies,” Tony said, light, as he fiddled with a holo mechanism in the right repulser. “Just a statement of fact. According to the news Spider-Man has also been just as difficult to find.”

Peter just hummed in response, choosing not to comment on his previous alter-ego. He didn’t much feel like a hero these days.

“A man of few words,” Tony commented, shutting down the programs in front of him and turning to face Peter fully. “Are you the same kid who was talking my ear off in Germany a year ago?”

“Yes sir,” Peter said, keeping his eyes focused on Tony’s chin. He could feel his mind slipping as his heart rate sped up and he struggled to keep present – it was getting harder and harder to stay in the moment the more he allowed himself to get lost in his head. He occasionally dreamed that one day it might be permanent; one of the few good dreams he had.

“Sir?” Tony parroted, his eyebrows raising and a flash of guilt washing over his features quickly before disappearing. “Look kid, I think I owe you an apology. Actually, I know I owe you an apology. I didn’t communicate with you about the whole alien weapons take-down thing. I underestimated you and treated you like a side-kick and ignored you and then I left you alone and without any protection and you saved my bacon anyway.”

“I deserved it,” Peter said matter-of-factly. “I was in over my head and I disobeyed. The punishment fit the crime.”

“No it didn’t,” Tony told him bluntly but firmly, looking surprised but resolute. “Maybe we both share some fault in the situation but I’m the adult and the one with experience and I didn’t do anything to teach you or help you and for that I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Peter assured him, allowing himself to tap his index finger against his thigh once to let out his stress. Mr. Fisher didn’t like his constant fidgeting and Peter knew that it was pretty annoying so he had done his best to learn how to stand as still as possible to not incur any extra punishments – the index finger tap he was able to normally get away with.

Mr. Stark’s eyes were narrowed as he surveyed Peter. “I wanted to offer you a real spot as my intern. You could spend a few days a week in the shop working on tech and I made you a new and improved suit for the other part of your ‘internship’. I promise that you’ll always have the support you need to be New York’s Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man. You’re the future of the Avengers, kid, its pretty clear to me now. Your spot on the team is there whenever you want to take it.”

For the briefest of moments, Peter was overwhelmed with excitement and incredulity. Ever since Tony had announced he was Iron Man to the world, Peter had wanted nothing more than to be a superhero as well, to be an Avenger. If Tony had offered him a spot on the team after Germany, Peter would have taken it in an instant. Now…

“Thank you Mr. Stark,” Peter said, voice still a little broken and hoarse from how little he spoke these days. “But I can’t.”

“Oh you don’t have to join now,” the man assured, misunderstanding. “You’ll need some training first but Rhodey and Vision are always down to join us at the compound for some group work. You have a lot of potential.”

“Thanks but that’s not what I meant,” Peter clarified. “I have to decline all of it but I appreciate the offer.”

“Oh,” Tony looked a little crestfallen, a dark expression of acceptance on his defined features. “I understand. Broken trust and all that. Sure.”

“It’s not that,” Peter reassured quickly. “I don’t hold anything against you – I was the one who messed up. It’s just I have a four o’clock curfew every day so I can’t do the internship.”

“That’s easily remedied!” Mr. Stark said, his eyes lifting with a smile and looking relieved. “I’ll just give Aunt Hottie a call and work things out and we’ll have you in the lab and out swinging through the streets in no time!”

Peter’s ears fuzzed out again, a sharp high-pitched note cutting off Tony’s excited words as a feeling of immense emotion flooded through Peter before he could tamp it down. His breathing felt a little ragged in his chest and he squeezed his eyes shut for just a moment to gather himself. “My aunt is dead,” Peter gritted out, interrupting Tony and rendering him speechless. “She died six months ago. My foster… the people fostering me are a little more strict.”

“Oh,” Tony said, face blank and an awkward silence filling the space. Peter gripped his worn down backpack straps and backed toward the elevator.

“Thanks for the offer,” Peter said earnestly. “It really is an honor I just…” he trailed off. “Thanks. For everything.”

And with that, he entered the elevator and pushed the button for the lobby, the doors shutting on Tony’s pitying expression before the man could say anything much to Peter’s relief. The metro card the Fishers had gotten him only had a set amount of money on it every month so Peter would be hoofing it back to their house from the Tower. His cracked watch face told him that it was already close to four-thirty and his stomach bubbled with anxiety. At this rate he wouldn’t be back in time to have dinner on the table at five-thirty.

Resigned to his punishments, Peter left the building through the shining lobby and pointed himself toward Queens, moving as fast as he could.

——————-

“You’re late,” Mr. Fishers’s tone was short and monotonous from where he was seated on the couch. The house was otherwise quiet which meant Mrs. Fisher was out that evening.

“I’m sorry sir,” Peter whispered looking at the floor and making no excuses. He had learned the hard way that trying to justify his poor behavior only made things worse for him in the long run.

“Go to your room,” Mr. Fisher told him making Peter cringe. “I’ll join you in a moment.”

Later, when Peter was lying on the bed with silent tears still leaking from his eyes and his back and ribs stinging in pain, he thought about Mr. Stark’s offer with selfish desire. In another universe, in another life, he would have been elated but now he only felt desolation - life always did like to dangle things in front of him he couldn’t have.

Setting his alarm for five-thirty so he wouldn’t oversleep, Peter let his consciousness slip away into the ether, mind going blissfully empty and blank.

——————-

Monday came both faster and slower than Peter wanted. His body still ached from his well-deserved punishment and he was exhausted from the extra chores and minimal food he had been offered as a result of his actions. School passed in a lonely blur for him as he drifted from class to class, hiding away in the deserted music room during lunch to avoid Ned and MJ. They didn’t ask as many questions anymore but Peter didn’t want to put himself in a situation where he would have to lie to his friends again.

When the final bell of the day rang, Peter chose to not stop by his locker where he may be ambushed and, instead, left the school, headed directly for the subway. He had nearly made it when a body physically blocked him from the stairs.

“Howdy Pete,” Mr. Stark said, peering over his glasses to look at Peter and Peter did his best to school his expression into indifference. He couldn’t be late again. He couldn’t take another punishment, he was just so tired all he wanted to do was sleep. Maybe forever. “Where are you headed?”

“Back to my fosters,” Peter told him, trying to skirt around. “I have a four o’clock curfew.”

“I remember you saying something about that,” Mr. Stark agreed with a nod. “Tell you what – let me give you a ride home. You’ll get home well before your curfew and I can talk to your foster parents about the internship. Who can say no to Tony Stark right?”

“NO!” Peter said loudly before smacking a palm over his mouth. He could feel the blood draining from his face as his body tensed, preparing for the correction he knew was coming. Mr. Stark’s brow was furrowed now and his eyes behind his blue glasses had a twinkle of understanding in them.

“Peter,” he began, reaching a hand out with the intention of lying his hand on Peter’s shoulder but he never got that far. Seeing the hand coming towards him and already being on high alert after his exclamation, Peter violently flinched away, only barely able to catch himself from falling over due to his enhanced reflexes, and squeezed his eyes shut tight. “Oh Peter,” Tony said, a desolate understanding in his voice.

Peter cracked his eyes open to see Mr. Stark with both hands raised in the universal ‘backing off’ signal, a soft look on his face. “Sorry sir,” Peter croaked out. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. It’s fine.”

“Do you have something you need to tell me kiddo?” Tony’s voice was soft and gentle and Peter felt his eyes well up with tears he hastily blinked away as he shook his head quickly. “It’s okay buddy. You can tell me.”

“I’m fine. I’m okay. It’s fine.” Tony looked even more crestfallen at Peter’s answer and tapped the side of his glasses to activate FRIDAY.

“Can you I’ve me a scan FRI?” He asked and Peter flinched again knowing there was no way to hide the broken and healing bones and skin that he had been doing his best to conceal. Tony’s face was tight as he stared at Peter and Peter felt all of the blood left in his face drain away.

“I deserved it,” Peter told him desperately. “I disobeyed, it was my fault.” Mr. Stark just looked even more beaten at his words and Peter felt his breathing picking up.

“It’s not,” Tony said, voice still unbelievably soft but firm. “It’s not your fault and you didn’t deserve it. You’re a great kid Pete.” Peter shook his head no and couldn’t stop a couple tears from leaking out before furiously wiping them away. “I promise that it wasn’t your fault Underoos. Will you let me help you?”

“You can’t,” Peter said, feeling hollow. “Everyone… everyone close to me dies. I’m cursed and I can’t do that to you too Mr. Stark.”

“Can I hug you?” Tony asked suddenly, arms twitching with need. After a seconds hesitation, Peter nodded and was hastily folded into the man’s arms; one arm tight around his shoulders and the other snaking up into his hair to pull through the too long strands carefully. Peter felt more tears leak out and, suddenly, he couldn’t hold it in any longer, throwing his own arms around Tony to return the hug and letting out a gut-wrenching sob into the man’s shoulder. Tony just shushed him and let him take as much comfort as he could. “You’re not cursed and none of this is your fault. I get the feeling no one has told you that yet and you need to hear it.”

Peter sobbed loudly again, curling in tighter. He had always thrived on positive affirmation and had grown up in a family where hugs and shoulder pats and forehead kisses were the norm. To go so long without… he had forgotten how nice it was to just be held and cared for. “Thank you,” Peter said, his voice clogged with emotion. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Tony said firmly. “Anyone decent would do the same thing and it’s the least of what you deserve.”

Peter squeezed him one more time and took a deep breath before pulling away. “Thank you,” he reiterated, fighting to make eye contact so he could show just how sincere he was. “But I need to get back before four and I already missed my train. I can’t be late.” Tony, who still had one hand resting on Peter’s shoulder, gripped him tightly to prevent him from escaping up the stairs to the train.

“You aren’t going back,” he said firmly, ducking his head and forcing Peter to make eye contact. “You’re coming with me back to the Tower where I’m going to call CPS and my lawyers. You’re never going back there again.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Peter insisted. “It’s really not that bad if I’m home on time and do my chores and stay in my room. And its only two more years until I’m eighteen and then I can get a job and an apartment.”

“Pete,” Tony said, eyes shining as he wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulders and started leading him away from the subway and toward the Audi that was parked in the pickup lane; Peter could see the outline of Happy’s silhouette in the driver’s seat. “You deserve better. You deserve somewhere safe and you deserve to have someone care about you. I know you don’t believe it now and that’s okay – I’m just going to keep telling you until you do.”

Peter sniffed back another onslaught of tears and allowed himself to be pulled away. “Thank you Mr. Stark,” he said, voice clogged with emotion.

“It’s Tony kiddo,” the man told him with another squeeze that warmed Peter to the core. “And you don’t need to thank me for this okay?”

“Okay,” Peter agreed, fully aware and present and wanting to be for the first time in a long time. Things were never going to be the same, but maybe, just maybe, they would get better.

#summer of whump 2021 #Prompt: Broken #spider man #irondad #summerofwhump #summerofwhump5

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peaches-writes · 4 years

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how to appease your asian aunties ch. 1 - christmas

description: in the immortal words of wine aunts and aunts you’re not even related to but forced to call your aunt at gatherings, ‘do you have a boyfriend?’ member: jisung / han genre: fluff, fake dating au, implied rich kids au, eventual childhood / best friends to lovers au, college au, implied fem reader (but i still used they/them pronouns) word count: 7.5k chapter warning: food, drinking, explicit language, one comment about weight note: insp by a twt meme + this is my first attempt at making a story with parents having a bigger role in them omg

ch. 2 // ch. 3 // series masterlist

Though you’re a semester away from graduating college, with your own circles of friends, clubmates, and close classmates, you still can’t understand why your mom and her sorority batchmates feel the need to have reunion parties every single year. Maybe it’s the product of growing connectivity in this modern age or just simply your wide age gap preventing you from having the same nostalgic feelings attending these dinners; nevertheless, ever since your mom started bringing you to these parties to socialize with her friends’ children when you were four, you've always personally found it a bit troublesome.

They see each other at mall sales, weekend brunches, weddings, birthdays, and anniversaries all the time—a lot of them even work closely with each other. For as long as you can remember, you can’t help but endlessly wonder in this time of year: will they ever get tired of each other?

As you adjust your coat over your semi-formal attire for this year’s dinner party, you sigh in front of the full-length mirror by your house’s front doors and mentally conclude that they probably never will. This is your 19th reunion dinner now and even from meters away in the kitchen, you can hear your mom fuss to your dad and the helpers either worriedly about the desserts that everyone in the house (and your nearest restaurant branch) was forced to bake two nights ago; or excitedly about seeing her college best friend, Mrs. Hwang, even if they literally just dragged their respective families to the monthly brunch last weekend—like she always does minutes before you leave. She always sounds like a crazed woman but you know deep inside that she’s excited to see her friends again and reminisce about the same old college memories you’ve even memorized by heart now.

It’s cute and all, maybe you’ll even end up the same in a decade or so but you swear at present on the dinner menu tonight that the more you spend your first day of Christmas break attending these dinners, the more you’ll slowly lose your mind over this unofficial holiday tradition: from your mom’s dramatic ramblings at the start of the night to the prospect of spending the rest of the evening laughing off your unofficial aunts and godmothers’ unnecessary backhanded comments and trying not to get caught in the trouble the younger children make.

It really just isn’t exactly your type of scene. It’s like family Christmas parties but with more passive-aggressive internalized drama since you’re not related to any of the guests by blood.

“Y/N, dear, come along now, we’re running late!” Your mom scolds you as she approaches your direction to the double doors, carrying cupcake caddies and cake boxes with your dad and your six house helpers. She’s wearing the dress you helped pick out last month, you observe, which is another tradition of hers. Rich people and not wanting to be seen wearing the same clothes twice, you guess. “Oh dear, I need to fix my hair in the car!”

You take one last look at yourself in the mirror before sprinting to the doors and helping your dad open them. You also take a couple of boxes from one of the helpers as you all pile outside, letting everyone pass through before closing the doors behind you.

The nine of you then head to your dad’s Ford you parked outside the house gates earlier this afternoon, loading the everything in the back of the car without much difficulty before parting ways with the helpers for tonight with the same house instructions from your mom to not wait up for the three of you.

“Bye!” Your mom waves at your helpers through the rolled down windows on the front passenger seat as your dad begins to drive away from the house.

Once your house begins growing smaller in the distance behind you, only then does your mom attend to her hair while your dad closes all the windows and locks the doors.

You, on the other hand, lean back in your own seat, taking out your phone to pass the ten minutes travel time to one of your godmothers, Mrs. Kim’s house in the adjacent subdivision.

“Y/M/N! Y/F/N! Welcome!” Mrs. Kim greets you at her house gates with her own mini army of house helpers, kindly helping you and your parents unload your party contributions and transfer them inside her recently renovated kitchen. “Oh, Y/N! Look at you, you look so beautiful tonight!”

You smile politely through the wave of compliments and ‘oh you gained a bit of weight’ comments that follow as you try your best to not to trip over the slippery marble steps leading to the house. Contrary to what your mom has been worrying about earlier at home, you eventually discover that you’re fairly early to the party for the 19th year in a row with only half of the families already in attendance to greet you when you entered the house.

“Y/N, all the teenagers are upstairs on the second floor, by the way.” Mrs. Kim informs you once your cupcakes have been neatly organized in the caddies at the very end of the buffet table, making you cringe internally at her preferred term for you and the other older kids in the house. “Dinner is at 7:30.”

“Thank you, auntie.” You smile one last time at her before excusing yourself to go upstairs, sighing internally in relief that her son, Seungmin, has smartly gathered everyone upstairs for the third year in a row to avoid the aunts and uncles for as much as possible.

You’re not completely fond of the parties, sure, but you can’t deny that there are little parts that have unconsciously grown on you—like your unlikely band of childhood friends and your shared hatred for this particular party.

Climbing up the slippery staircase as fast as you can with a death grip on the railings, you reach the second floor in no time to be greeted by six out of the eight people you’ve sort of grown up with in these parties occupying the common area: Felix and Hyunjin having a Wii dance battle in front of the television, Seungmin and Minho having a violent game of UNO on the coffee table, and Ryujin and Yeji scrolling through their phones on the sofa before abandoning them to approach you at noticing your presence by the staircase.

“Y/N!” Ryujin calls you in as she reaches you first for a brief hug and a short exchange of compliments on each other’s outfits, as if you didn’t just meet at one of your shared class’ Christmas parties yesterday. Though all of you attend the same university, you see Ryujin the most since you’re in the same college, just in different departments. “So nice to see you again!”

“Yeah, yeah, hello to you too again.” You chuckle, more genuinely now in the company of party guests you’re actually comfortable with, before waving hello at Yeji who trails behind.

Yeji then naturally hugs you next, pulling you a few steps away from the staircase so the two of you don’t topple over when she leans her weight on you. “Y/N, took you long enough!” She says next to your ear. “Hyunjin and I were starting to make bets if the aunties suddenly trapped you downstairs like Chan and Miyoung.”

You hug her back with equal force, a little more than you did with Ryujin, pulling away after to playfully slap her arm for the teasing comment. “I’d sell my arm first before I let that happen.” You retort as the two of you laugh. “I just helped set up desserts—mom made us do an extra two boxes of brownies and cookies this year so you better get a lot later!”

“Of course, but only if you eat a lot of the spaghetti my mom made!” She reminds, kindly fixing your hair for you. “I missed you! You look so pretty tonight!”

Behind the two girls, the boys also greet you in scattered casual ‘hi’s and ‘hello’s before going back to their own activities. You greet them back as they acknowledge you (and even reciprocate Felix’s long-distance high five mid-dance), crossing off everyone’s names in your mental attendance list as your gaze wanders around the room.

Since Chan is busy being a grown-up and showing off his fiance downstairs, you conclude that only one person is missing among your eight friends.

“Ya, Han Jisung!” As if on cue, the missing eighth person in your list emerges from the staircase behind you as Minho calls his name. “Welcome back!”

Jisung greets everyone back in their second wave of scattered greetings as he walks to Minho and Seungmin’s direction, purposely acknowledging you last by suddenly turning around and walking backwards to send a wave and wink your way. He almost trips over the long ruffles of the big accent carpet as he does this, making you, Yeji, and Ryujin laugh as the only witnesses.

“Oh my God.” You place a hand to your forehead in secondhand embarrassment, stifling your laughs as your best friend regains his balance and looks behind him in case anyone else saw (which, unfortunately for you, they didn’t). You can’t believe that despite missing last year’s party because of his study abroad program’s strict schedule, he still manages to do his ritual clumsy carpet accident somehow. “This dumbass, I swear.”

In front of you, Jisung only laughs it off as well. “You didn’t see that!” He adjusts his coat with one hand and scratches the nape of his neck with the other in between laughs, walking forward to you properly after with his arms extended for a hug. “Stop laughing and come here, ugly. I missed you.”

You feign a scowl but hug him back anyway, Yeji and Ryujin slyly stepping away with knowing smiles that only you can see with Jisung’s eyes turned away. You stick your tongue out at the two girls as they abandon you and walk back to the sofa before slapping Jisung’s back harshly for the familiar insult. “Speak for yourself, you ugly. I missed you too.” You reply to his latter comment with an amused chuckle of your own. “How are you?”

“Better now that I’m seeing you in person again.” He pulls away after with his signature flirty smirk, visibly eyeing you up and down now while his hands are still on your upper arms. Though he knows such gesture irks you, especially when it comes to the aunts and uncles downstairs, Jisung is the only one among your friends confident enough to tease you this way. Knowing each other a bit longer than everyone else has its perks, he’s come to realize over the years. “Look at you, all dressed up tonight. For me?”

“Of course I’m all dressed up tonight, it’s Chan’s engagement announcement later.” You retort, swatting his hand away to adjust your now wrinkled clothes. “You’ve known me for twenty years, already; I think it’s time to stop assuming I’ll ever dress up for you now.”

He only shakes his head, his teasing and lighthearted mood unwavering in front of you. “Nah, I really think you dressed up for me tonight.” He insists jokingly, a hand lingering over the fabric of your coat. “If I get welcome back parties like this from you in the end, should I just do more one-year study abroad programs?”

“And leave me to fend off the aunties every other year? I don’t think so.” You’re quick to turn down, walking pass him to rejoin your group now. Jisung naturally follows along like a lost puppy, suddenly changing his mind on joining Minho and Seungmin to follow you around now that you’ve started conversation. “You owe me for leaving me to take all the ‘I can set you up on a blind date with my godchild’ and ‘are you dating anyone’ comments last year.”

The two of you sit next to Ryujin and Yeji who, without even looking up from their phones, quickly scoot away to the other end of the big sofa which makes you send pleading looks their way while Jisung laughs and gains enough confidence to sling an arm on the sofa behind your shoulders.

Another annoying thing from this yearly reunion party is how it’s an unspoken rule in your group to leave you and Jisung alone whenever you’re engaging in your usual banter. You and Jisung are the enemies type of best friend, for God’s sake. You don’t understand how everyone (yes, even Seungmin) thinks the two of you are being cute.

“I keep telling you, you wouldn’t get all those comments if you just tell them you’re dating someone, dummy.” Jisung returns to your conversation once you’re settled, purposely placing a suggestive emphasis on the pet name. “That’s just the most natural thing to do in front of the aunties.”

“And who would I show them if they ask who?”

“Try me.” Jisung answers smugly, earning him an eye roll from you.

“As if.” You deadpan, leaning to his arm anyway as you take out your phone and connect to the wifi. “Given your new fuckboy look to the aunties, I’m pretty sure they’ll see past that kind of bullshit, especially Yeji and Hyunjin’s mom and Minho’s mom. They’d be more convinced if I tell them I’m dating Seungmin instead and he’s already in a relationship.”

You don’t even have to look to your side to see Jisung pouting as he whines in complaint, his free hand going up to your side to shake your arm. “That hurts.” He dramatically points to his chest when you show the slightest hint of turning his way. “And having Bumble on your phone isn’t being a fuckboy, I don’t even use it to get dates.”

“That’s not what the aunties think.” You point out, knowing just how much your aunts and uncles easily misunderstand concepts from your generation like social and dating apps. “I’m telling you, I prefer you swaying the conversation for me over you pretending to be my boyfriend.”

Jisung is quiet for a moment and you’re convinced that he’s decided on ending the conversation at this point until he suddenly twists his body towards you and challenges, "Do you wanna bet? Test out that theory?” He smirks again. “It’d really spice up this party, besides Chan’s announcement, of course.”

Only then do you look up at him since you sat down, deadpanning, “No.”

“Come on, it’d be really interesting!” He taps you on your shoulders with a laugh, a combination of habits he always does whenever he’s trying to involve you in his usual trouble-making antics. “My mom will finally get off my back for always nagging me as a ‘fuckboy’ and our mom’s sorority friends will finally get off yours for not dating.”

“You’re crazy.” You comment, crossing your arms in front of him. “I think I’ll just re-download Bumble too and bring someone to the party next year.”

“You’re really taking too much jabs at my heart right now,” He sighs with a contrasting smirk. “and we’re not even past dinner yet.”

“Because you deserve it,” You chuckle back at him, pretending to punch him on his stomach which he reacts to dramatically. “I’ve always known you’re a dumbass but that’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard from you.”

Stubborn, he shakes his head in disagreement as you speak. “Nah, nah, we’ll see about that.”

And as if on cue, Mrs. Kim emerges from the staircase and announces that dinner is ready, luring everyone out of the second floor before you can even ask Jisung what he means with his words.

“Ya, Han Jisung!” You call for him when he sprints to Seungmin’s side when the latter begins leading everyone downstairs.

You try catching up to him but the staircase becomes too narrow for you to squeeze past everyone, forcing you to walk with Minho and Ryujin at the back of the group. With this, Jisung then takes this as an opportunity to look up at you from the turn on the staircase and send you another wink, a more confident one this time since he doesn’t trip after.

Your ‘age group,’ as the aunts differentiate you from the younger children, hogs the extensive buffet and steals the best table in the backyard, near the karaoke machine so you can stop the uncles from singing too much of ‘My Way’ once they get drunk later on and as far away from the children’s table as possible so you don’t have to be obligated to take care of them later on. Chan, the eldest among you now, joins your table with his fiance, Miyoung, after they’ve officially declared their engagement before the buffet opened, happily handing out their save the date cards for their May wedding.

“Just remember, Miyoung, that you can literally get all your wedding needs from us, okay?” Yeji comments amidst all the talk about the wedding, gesturing to everyone as you eat and drink champagne. “Like Y/N and Seungmin for catering, Ryujin for the attires, Felix for your honeymoon trip, me and Hyunjin for the flowers and documentation, and Jisung can dress up as a clown for your reception.”

“Ya!” Jisung protests to your left, cheeks full of steak and spaghetti that makes the whole table erupt in laughter. “Chan’s and Minho’s studios can arrange the music and the decor; my mom will probably argue with Miyoung’s mom for the locations and hotels.”

“I can just tell my dad to hire you as a clown, though.” Minho shrugs nonchalantly, further fueling your laughter. To your right, you can even see Miyoung giggling through her glass of champagne, having given up on stifling her laughs. “It’d make good entertainment.”

Jisung then leans over to you to turn to Miyoung on your other side with a pout and a pleading look to her and Chan. “You two are just letting them drag me like this?” He whines dramatically before turning to you. “Y/N, back me up here.”

“No!” You press a finger up to his forehead and playfully push him back on his seat. “It’s a great idea, what are you talking about?” You tease as you do so, much to more whines from him. “There’s like five months before the wedding, think about it.”

Next to you, Miyoung forces herself to stop laughing, teasingly asking Chan, “Babe, what do you think? Should we just demote Jisung from groomsman to clown?”

“I’d very much prefer being a groomsman, please.” Jisung asks over Chan, leaning over the table. “I can’t compete with Changbin for best man but as long as I’m not dressing up as a clown I’m good!”

“Hey, how come Jisung’s a groomsman?” Seungmin complains from across you, frowning cutely at the couple. “Miyoung, I’m your cousin! I introduced you and Chan in university!”

“You’re a groomsman too, Minnie, don’t worry.” Miyoung reassures with a warm smile before elbowing her fiance. “As long as you can get your parents to cater with Y/N’s family.”

The offer makes Seungmin’s ear perk up in interest. “Okay, call!”

“Can we all be in the wedding party at this point? I’m seriously pushing it now, I want to dress up really cute!” Yeji, who sits on Chan’s other side, pleads.

“Me too! I second that!” Felix backs her up immediately, the two now leaning over the table expectantly in Chan’s direction. “Though I’m not so keen on designing things.”

“Ah, but we have to make more room for actual relatives.” The groom-to-be in question laughs sheepishly. “Though, knowing our parents, I’ll try to squeeze everyone in somewhere in the program. Just let us iron out everyone’s contributions first.”

“Yeji, I’ll take note of your suggestion, though.” Miyoung points at the younger girl with an appreciative grin. “I’ll message the groupchat once Chan and I meet up again with the planner.”

Meanwhile, Chan’s last comment gives you and Minho an idea and the two of you suggest in chorus, “Get Seungmin to sing!”

“Jinx!” You and Minho exchange winks and long distance-high fives from Jisung’s two sides after while Chan and Miyoung ask Seungmin about said idea, making Jisung pout at you.

The general table conversation then naturally flows to other matters, mostly about the famous names you might be expecting at the wedding, but Jisung doesn’t participate much anymore, turning to you instead and asking, “Ya, are you cheating on me with Minho now? You sacrifice me as entertainment then back Minho up but not me!” He rambles in between mouthfuls of food, making you and even Minho chuckle in amusement despite the latter being in another conversation with Ryujin and Seungmin. “I just left for one year and you’re already doing this to me!”

“What are you on about again, dumbass?” You roll your eyes with a scoff, stealing a piece of steak from his plate for the third time this dinner. “Finish your food, everyone’s done and you’re so slow!”

Jisung then belatedly swats your chopsticks away, “I’m almost done, dumbass, stop mooching off my plate!”

"Then hurry up, you still have to accompany me to the dessert table.” You point out, referring to your least favorite part of this reunion parties: getting attacked by invasive questions on your return trip to the buffet table. “Remember, you owe me. I’m not going in there alone again.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He replies on his last two bites of food, eating one then handing the other one to you. “Have the other one, then.”

He pokes your lips with the last piece of steak and you instinctively lean your head away, catching the food with your own chopsticks instead. “Thanks.” You bring the food to your mouth before carefully patting the oil he ended up smearing on your lips with your table napkin.

Across the table and out of your earshot, Yeji elbows Hyunjin and points to the two of you. “They’re at it again.”

Without you or Jisung looking, Hyunjin looks at the two of you in feign disgust. “I know, every damn year.”

On Hyunjin’s other side, Seungmin nods frustratingly in agreement which makes Yeji laugh. “We shouldn’t have taken last year for granted, 'no?” He sighs. “Last year was so peaceful without them together.”

“Agreed.” The Hwang cousins agree in chorus before listening to the table’s general conversation again.

Meanwhile, Jisung finally finishes his food and excuses the two of you from the table to get dessert. Miyoung waves at you politely and Felix playfully orders that you two get him cupcakes but the rest only acknowledge you with simple nods as they’re completely engrossed in betting on whose dad will be singing My Way on the karaoke machine first (everyone’s in the middle of betting on Mr. Bang). With that, you and your best friend then take your leave, going back inside the house and making a beeline to the kitchen.

Unfortunately for you, you catch your mom, Mrs. Han, and Mrs. Hwang gossiping by the punch bowls once you reach the kitchen’s open doorway—literally the worst combination of sorority aunts to be bombarded with invasive questions.

“Shit.” You mutter under your breath loud enough for only Jisung to hear, the two of you still out of the three women’s sights. Looking up at Jisung with pleading eyes, you ask, “Should we just go back later?”

Quickly seeing this as an opportunity to get back at you, Jisung only smiles evilly and links his hands with yours, dragging a hesitant you inside the kitchen and towards the direction of the dessert table. “No, let’s get dessert now, baby.” He dismisses your silent pleas teasingly, making sure his voice is loud enough to get your worst nightmare of trio’s attentions. “Felix also asked us to get cupcakes too, remember?”

And like vultures, the three women immediately turn to you and Jisung as you head in their line of vision, three different shades of questioning looks on their faces. You especially catch your mom’s face, a mixture of surprise, amusement, and genuine curiosity for some reason, which sets all the gears in your head into panic mode while Jisung only gains more confidence from this.

You swear at that moment on Jisung’s sort of untied shoelaces that you just want Mrs. Kim’s new kitchen floor tiles to swallow you up right there and then.

“Hey, mom!” Jisung greets his own mom with a wave, coming off as sweet to her but mocking to you. He then bows politely to your mom and Mrs. Hwang and you’re forced to follow along for the sake of courtesy. “Mrs. Y/L/N, Mrs. Hwang.”

The three women look at each other curiously, as if in a silent debate on what they’ve just heard, while Jisung pretends to be unfazed, passing you a dessert plate and examining tonight’s dessert options.

“Jisung, I swear to God,” You hiss at him as you take a slice of chocolate cake for him. “I’m going to kill you after this party.”

He leans close to your ear while gathering cupcakes on a separate dessert plate, whispering, “I think it’s too late for that, though.” before your mom, Mrs. Han, and Mrs. Hwang suddenly appear in front of the two of you on the other side of the buffet table with sickeningly sweet smiles, and a million questions.

You especially fear Jisung’s mom. Mrs. Han and your mom often go to the mall together, especially when there’s an ongoing sale, and you’ve been forced to carry all their shopping bags over the years because Jisung and his older brother usually bail on you. Though she’s very sweet, you’ve always known her to be very picky on some things and it just makes you think that she’s picky on who Jisung dates too.

“Mom,” You call for your mom with wide eyes. “Do you need anything?”

But she waves her hand dismissively with a reassuring smile at your question. “Oh, nothing, Y/N dear,” She answers, eyes darting almost threateningly between you and Jisung. It makes your hand shaky as you now complete your tower of dessert plates. “your aunties and I were just talking and we didn’t mean to but we saw you and Jisung so we just got curious and thought we’d ask how the two of you are.”

“Oh, just ask them already!” Mrs. Hwang exclaims excitedly, slapping your mom’s arm like a school girl. “If you won’t, I will.”

But Mrs. Han is already leaning over the table with a knowing smile, straightforwardly asking, “Are you two kids dating?” which immediately makes your mom and Mrs. Hwang erupt into fits of giggles. “Come on, the aunties want to know!”

“Oh, um—” You stammer out before Jisung beats you to it.

For the second time tonight, you feel Jisung’s arm on your shoulder as he speaks over you confidently, “Y-Yeah, we’ve been for a while now!” He then places his dessert plate back on the table and boyishly rubs the nape of his neck which only elicits swooning reactions from the three women, a complete contrast from your expectations a while back. “Just some time before my program ended so it’s been a bit long-distance for the most part.”

“Oh? But how?” Mrs. Hwang asks curiously. “I didn’t hear of you going to Malaysia this year, Y/N, and Jisung, your mom told me you didn’t have time to go home!”

“You could’ve just told me, Sungie! Then, I would’ve had you sent home earlier if you wanted to see Y/N!” Mrs. Han adds as well, clasping her hands in satisfaction. “I knew this was coming! You two have always been so cute together!”

Your mom agrees, “Luckily, I refused Mrs. Park’s offer to set Y/N up with another one of her nephews a while back. Had I known you two were dating, I wouldn’t have talked to her tonight at all!”

You open your mouth to try and speak but Jisung beats you to it again. “We’ve been in touch: message, calls, and video calls, you know.” He half-shrugs casually, as if he’s been rehearsing the line for a while now. “It’s our first time meeting since we started seeing each other so telling you guys just kind of flew past us.”

You groan internally but you also can’t help but sigh in relief at the prospect that you avoided getting set up by Mrs. Park again because of Jisung. Though this doesn’t completely erase your annoyance over him for putting you in this situation, you still owe him a ‘thank you’ after somehow.

So, you conclude that you should just follow along. It’s fake dating your best friend over another pointless blind date at this point now, after all. “You’re okay with this, right?” You decide to ask in a follow-up, pretending to not know that they’ll agree anyway. Next to you, Jisung’s eyes visibly widen and, seeing it from the corner of your eyes, you quickly elbow him in response before giving your most innocent look to your mom. “I mean, Jisung won’t be studying abroad now and we’re graduating, anyway, so it’s cool, right?”

Judging by their softened reactions, you feel like you could challenge Hyunjin to acting now.

“Of course we’re okay with it!” Your mom answers first, Mrs. Han nodding along happily. “I’m glad that it’s someone I know at least and I’m sure your dad wouldn’t mind.”

You hear Jisung gulp nervously at the last comment. If you’re afraid of his mom, he’s afraid of your dad because of the one time he helped you practice for your driver’s license and the two of you almost ended up crashing the Ford on your subdivision’s club house. You allow yourself to relax and laugh at this, making him tighten his grip on your shoulder.

“Me too, sis.” Mrs. Han agrees, gesturing over to her son. “My Jisung here’s been going on dates with strangers online before this so I’m glad he’s finally stopped and settled for your kid! Modern love, huh?”

“Oh my God, mom!” Jisung whines, his free hand coming up to his face in embarrassment. “I’ve told you before, I use them to meet friends! Not in front of Mrs. Y/L/N and Y/N please!”

“Ay, it’s the same thing!” His mom insists to him before turning to Mrs. Hwang and your mom. “Social apps, dating apps, they’re all the same. Why do you even use them if you’re just going to fall in love with the person right in front of you? I taught you better than that, Sungie.”

“Mom!” Jisung hisses, cheeks tinted pink. “This is so embarrassing!”

You snicker next to him, catching his attention. “Your mom’s right, you know. Tsk, dating people from miles away and you just end up confessing to me on FaceTime.”

He scowls at you in a way that scolds you for suddenly turning this situation in your favor. You only smile triumphantly at him which the three aunties take as a really sweet moment.

“Aw, look at them! So cute!” Mrs. Hwang gushes before turning to her two best friends. “Should we just leave them alone now? We’re intruding!”

“Right! It’s especially embarrassing since we’re both here, Mrs. Han.” Your mom agrees, leading the three out now. She then turns to you and Jisung, “I guess we’ll be off now, then? Don’t want to intrude to you two lovebirds anymore!”

You smile up to your mom, making sure Jisung does too. “It’s fine, mom, we’re going back to our table now too, anyway.”

But Mrs. Han waves her hand dismissively at you. “No, no, we’ll run along now first! See you later, okay?”

You and Jisung bid your moms and Mrs. Hwang goodbye, overhearing your mom bragging that she’ll share this new information to Mrs. Park while Mrs. Han and Mrs. Hwang agree before the three completely exited the kitchen.

Once they’re out of earshot, you sigh in relief and elbow Jisung harshly who responds by dramatically taking a step back and massaging his side. “Ow!” He winces, careful not to hit the dessert table. “What was that for?”

“I told you to drop the fake dating thing a while back.” You protest, threatening to hit him with your plate of chocolate slices. “Now I have to have you at home more often. I’ve already had enough of you at campus, here, and when your mom visits at home.”

“Ya, but you played along!”

“That’s because I was put on the spot! And they did mention another blind date from Mrs. Park’s army of nephews.” You explain. “It was between you and another blind date.”

“At least I got you out of another potential blind date, right?” He points out defensively, proceeding to put your hand with the chocolate slices down on the table with caution. “And more effectively now than before, too! So why’d you hit me?”

“Yeah, I know but still, that doesn’t cancel out how you got me out of that.” You frown in disappointment, taking both of your dessert plates now. When he holds his hand up defensively, as if expecting you to throw them to his face, you only roll your eyes and walk past him to the direction of the second kitchen exit. “Now, I have to fake date you for real either until Mrs. Park lays off the blind dates or until I actually date someone.”

Jisung immediately follows you suit, genuinely rubbing the nape of his neck in a bashful way now. “We don’t have to, maybe they’ll forget about it.” But when you give him a pointed look, as if suggesting that what he just said seems unlikely, he ends up suggesting, “Okay, fine, should we break up after Chan’s wedding, then?”

He then glances over at you to see you contemplating and calming yourself down so he instinctively insists on carrying the dessert plates for you, walking a little bit ahead as well and opening the screen door leading back to the backyard.

When you’ve made yourself calm down and think more rationally, you firstly point out, “That’s too far away and wouldn’t that be too scandalous? It’s a big event so it could become gossip.”

Passing the entire length of the backyard now, you receive a few congratulations and questions confirming your relationship from some of your mom’s sorority friends and their husbands, forcing Jisung to hold his thought until you’re not being swarmed again.

“But if we do it before, it’d be too suspicious since we’d only be dating for less than 6 months.” He counters once the adults have left you alone, glancing ahead and seeing your entire table looking at you with quirked up eyebrows and comically intimidating looks. “Remember when my older brother did that as a joke to the aunties and got caught because they only did it for 3 weeks? They smell fear and deceit, Y/N.”

You sigh in defeat, “Let’s just figure it out later.” With that, you reach your table, setting your plates down and asking, “What did we miss?”

Judging by the way they eye you, your mom has probably told Mrs. Kim who’s gone table to table.

“It’s fake, isn’t it?” Ryujin speaks up once you’ve settled back in your seat, making the table break character and laugh. “It can’t be a coincidence since you two were just talking about that a while ago inside!”

“Please be fake.” Seungmin adds, gesturing to you and Jisung. “It’d be more annoying for all of us next year if it’s true.”

You and Jisung, having the same thought and trust for your friends, nod simultaneously at Ryujin’s question, eventually joining in on the laughter.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you’d actually try that!” Ryujin cackles, a clear giveaway that she and Yeji were eavesdropping on you and Jisung a while back to a degree.

“To be clear, though, it’s his fault!” You add in between laughs for clarification, pointing to Jisung with your dessert spoon. “He started it!”

“And they were about to get set up on a blind date by Mrs. Park again.” Jisung gestures to you back, completing the thought. “I was being a good Samaritan.”

“Ooh, and what did they say?” Felix asks curiously, one elbow propped up on the table as he listens intently.

Jisung groans in exasperation as he eats his chocolate cake. “We bumped into my mom, Y/N’s mom, and Mrs. Hwang so you can imagine how they reacted.”

“I can imagine, especially our mom.” Hyunjin sighs with his hands carding through his hair in secondhand embarrassment.

“At least now we know where you inherited certain qualities from.” Chan teases, making the younger boy exclaim ‘ya!’ at him.

“This is good, though isn’t it?” Yeji asks curiously over her iced tea. “I mean, Mrs. Park’s wouldn’t set you up on blind dates now.”

“Yeah, but that leaves me as Ms. Park’s only target!” Ryujin moans in frustration. “You know Mrs. Park doesn’t get convinced with dating people online!”

You shake your head at Ryujin’s complaint. “Yeji can fake date you, though.” You point out, much to the girl’s annoyance. “Or ask out that girl from our lab.”

“So, does this mean we’re getting a dramatic break-up at Chan and Miyoung’s wedding?” Hyunjin interjects, having moved from playing with his now long hair to his glass of champagne. “Because if so, then you better tell us now so we won’t get too drunk at the reception until it happens!”

“I honestly want to see that happen too.” Seungmin agrees, the two high-fiving at the thought.

“That’d be interesting, breaking up at weddings.” Minho chuckles along now too. “People usually propose or hook-up so this is new.”

“Hey, no stealing my spotlight on my wedding!” Miyoung complains playfully to you and Jisung this time. “We’re all supposed to have a good time there!”

Chan nods in agreement. “If you break up at our wedding, you’re getting kicked out.”

So you shake your head reassuringly in between eating cupcakes. “We aren’t planning to.”

“You’re going to date for real?” Felix asks teasingly, earning him a glare form you.

“Gross, no.” You and Jisung turn down the thought in chorus.

“Jinx.” Jisung adds, stealing a spoonful of cake from your plate.

“So when are you breaking up?” Chan asks, leading the whole round table to look back to you.

“Whenever, I guess.” You shrug casually, belatedly swatting Jisung’s hand from your plate this time. “Until Mrs. Park gets off my back and Jisung actually stops fucking around on Bumble.”

“I don’t fuck around on Bumble!” Jisung complains over a mouthful of chocolate cake.

“Well, that’s going to take a long time.” Chan dismisses. “At least let us all know so we can schedule faking a whole drama in this group.”

“Anyway, it’ll die down soon, surely.” Jisung assures with a half-shrug. “Also, our parents only meet up constantly during this reunion party. If anything, we just have to fake date in front of our moms since they meet up more often.”

“And Mrs. Hwang.” You point to Hyunjin and Yeji. “Since we all go to brunch once a month.”

At the mention of the monthly brunch, Yeji’s eyes widen. “Does that mean Jisung has to be at our monthly brunch?!”

“Oh, ew!” Hyunjin adds in disgust. “I’ve had enough seeing you at campus already!”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?!” Jisung exclaims back in complain. “I doubt I’d get invited to that, we’re supposed to be dating not getting married!”

Jisung turns to you expectantly, sighing in relief when you say, “That seems unlikely, it’s my mom and Mrs. Hwang’s thing, anyway. It’s not the Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner brunch.”

“It better be!” Hyunjin says with crossed arms. “Hopefully our moms don’t get that kind of idea.”

You quietly agree. Having Jisung on your monthly brunch with the Hwangs would just cause so much trouble and cement him in your mom’s good graces—but as your boyfriend, this time.

That’s probably not good.

The party officially ends some time around 3 AM, when most of the parents with elementary school children have gone home hours earlier and, besides the Kims, it’s just your family, the Hwangs, the Hans, Chan, and Miyoung left at the front gates, bidding each other goodnight.

“Thank you for having us again, Mrs. Kim.” You bid Seungmin’s family last since they’re the hosts, bowing politely to Seungmin’s parents before giving Seungmin a high-five.

“See you after break.” Seungmin greets you after your high-five. “Have fun in Japan.”

“And you enjoy your trip to New York.” You reply with an enthusiastic smile. “I do hope your mom reconsiders staying longer so you can spend the New Year there.”

He nods with a sigh, “Yeah, I know. Still, I’ll try my best to convince her.”

Your mom then approaches the two of you, bidding Seungmin and his parents goodnight before taking you away by the arm then turning you towards the direction of Jisung and his family. “Goodnight, Seungmin, Mr. and Mrs. Kim!” She smiles warmly to them before turning to you. “Y/N, aren’t you going to say goodnight to Jisung?”

“I already did.”

“Ah, but go to him anyway! Your dad still has to start the car.”

You groan internally. After a whole night of drinking, singing, and gossiping with her friends, you’d think that she would’ve forgotten about earlier.

Yet you oblige anyway, excusing yourself from your parents and approaching Jisung whose parents are busy having last-minute small talk with Chan and Miyoung, probably endorsing their chain of hotels as early as now for the wedding.

“Hey, ugly.” You greet him casually as you approach, both your parents out of earshot so the old nickname naturally comes out. At this, Jisung immediately turns from scrolling through his phone to looking up at you with wide eyes. “My mom didn’t see us say goodnight a while ago so I’m here.”

“Oh,” He muses, eyes flitting to your mom behind you once. When he sees her glancing expectantly, he turns to you and suggests, “Should we hug?”

“Yeah, I guess.” You sigh, going straight into his extended arms. “‘Night.”

“’Night, baby.” Jisung hums gently, too sleepy now to throw more witty comebacks besides the cheesy pet name that originally got you in trouble tonight. “See you after the break.”

“No, see you on our moms’ next shopping spree.” You correct firmly, pulling away from his warmth before you could accidentally fall asleep on him. “Since we’re ‘dating’ now, you’re morally obligated to attend shopping bag duty now, too.”

This makes Jisung sigh in defeat, “Fine, fair enough. See you on our moms’ next shopping spree, then.” He pauses for a moment then asks, “The day after New Year, right?”

“Yeah.” You confirm with a nod when you catch him pouting, “You started this so don’t pout now.”

“I know, I’m regretting it now.” He rolls his eyes with a scoff, only making you chuckle. “I suppose it’s different when we hang out as friends and when our moms think we’re dating.”

You continue laughing anyway until a thought crosses your mind and softens your gaze up at Jisung. “Anyway, thanks for saving me from another date—I almost forgot. The means is still annoying but I have to appreciate it somehow, right?”

This time, it’s him chuckling, “Now you appreciate my efforts. See, I told you, something good comes up with this.”

“Whatever.” You dismiss before you hear your mom calling for you as your dad pulls up in front of the Kim’s gates. “Okay, that’s me. Bye, ugly!”

“Hm, bye!” With a final wave, Jisung then sees you off before joining his parents who he didn’t even realize have already gone to their car.

Seating himself at the backseat of his mom’s car a moment later, Jisung accidentally glances over to his mom from the rear view mirror only to see her wiggling her eyebrows at him.

“So,” Mrs. Han says. “you and Y/N.”

“Yeah?” Jisung response with a questioning tone. “Me and Y/N, what about it?”

Mrs. Han only shrugs from the driver’s seat as she now drives away from the Kim’s house. “Nothing, you’re just both really cute.” She comments casually with a proud smile. “I like it. Though it is too bad we can’t invite them to dinner since they’re going to Japan for Christmas this year.”

“How about next year?” Jisung’s dad suggests. “We can go on one of our hotels abroad.”

“Ah, but—” Jisung stammers, only to be interrupted by his dad again.

“Or, honey, when you and Mrs. Y/L/N go to the mall again.” Mr. Han quickly quips in to Mrs. Han before turning to their son in the back seat. “I expect you’d stop bailing on your mom when she goes to the mall now since Y/N’s always at these shopping trips.”

At this, Jisung shakes his head, “I won’t. I’m ‘morally obligated’ now, apparently.”

“That’s good.” Mr. Han says, turning back to the road ahead and relaxing into the front passenger seat. “You better.”

Jisung sleepily props his elbow up by the window and sighs, letting his parents enjoy this new prospect of him seriously dating someone now. “Yup.” He ends the conversation, closing his eyes and getting a few minutes of sleep before arriving back home.

Suddenly, this is probably not a good idea—lying to his already hyped parents.

ch. 2 // ch. 3 // series masterlist

tag: @t-toodumbtocare @sandaigdigan-reads @pwarkhans @ruellelix @malai-barfi @mahalau @milkywayfelix @qweens-stuff

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luverofralts · 3 years

Text

Post Arkhelios

Abe is dying having to live with his deteriorating family. It seems like forever since he's been happy...it feels like forever since he’s seen Roman. With his parents’ marriage falling apart, he’s been thinking a lot lately about his own love life. Arkhelios is a small place and there weren’t a lot of gay or bi teens to date. There was Jorah, but he was way too young for Abe, and for whatever reason, Abe had always felt the Durant kids were like distant family to him. It would be creepy to try think romantically about them. It also didn’t help matters that if things kept going like they were, Jorah might soon be his step-brother.

Now that the Durants are unfortunately a fixture in his life, Ulyssa some times texts him about life at boarding school in exchange for dirt on her parents. She especially thought he’d be interested in knowing that Roman was having a huge falling out with his family, which was keeping him from coming home to stay with them. Abe couldn't blame him for that, Ulyssa was doing the same thing, and god knows Abe would have left by now if he had somewhere to go. College is still in the distant horizon, and Salem hasn't been impressed with the results of Roman and Ulyssa's recruitment drive, so appealing to Salem likely won't get him out of Arkhelios either. Still, it couldn't hurt if he were to go to the Bellamys and ask if they had a way to reach Roman. Salem had stopped paying for Roman's phone, and the school itself was so old that payphones were too much of a modern inconvenience for the school to bother installing.

Roman's room was still perfectly unchanged since the last time Abe had been there. There were a lot of good memories in this room. Memories of stolen kisses, of pulling off Roman's shirt only to accidentally put it back on inside out later, of his heart racing when Salem called them down to dinner while they were still tangled up in Roman's sheets....why had things gotten so bad between them? Was Abe just idealizing the past, or had he really given up something special when he let Roman leave?

Visiting Roman's empty room had only made things worse for Abe. Now he would have to go home to his miserable family alone. Or so he thought until he ran into Wanda downstairs. Wanda had always been kind to him, and Roman actually seemed to like her as an aunt. In fact, there was a secret Roman had told Abe about her that Abe was desperately hoping was true. Witches and magic were real occurrences in places outside of Arkhelios; Roman was even learning a bit of it at school where witches were abundant and placed in positions of power.

“W-Wanda,” he stammered, “I don't want to be rude or anything, and I'm not going to out you to anyone...I was just wondering if you could maybe do me a favour?”

It barely took anytime at all for the hall to light up with an unnatural glow, leaving only a silhouette of a human shape. Once his eyes had adjusted, Abe could make out the undeniable features of Roman's shocked face.

“Abe? Wanda?” he asked incredulously. “You teleported me here?”

Wanda laughed.

“From what I hear, you certainly couldn’t pull that off yourself.” Her tone was playful, but Roman’s expression fell.

“No, I guess not. Just another thing I’m failing.”

Abe didn’t let him say another word. Roman was in his arms again. Something good had finally happened to him. Wanda left the two alone with a smile, and a promise to help Roman get himself back to his dorm when he needed to.

“I’m so sorry,” Roman sobbed against Abe’s shoulder. “I’ve been such an ass.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Abe cried. “I shouldn’t have let you go in the first place. Everything here is just terrible without you.”

“Everything at school is terrible. I’m barely passing, my parents have forgotten me, I was so cocky when I left that even Ulyssa won’t talk to me now. I thought I was going to be important, but it turned out that I was really nothing at all.”

Abe smiled.

“You’re something to me.”

Morty was suddenly interrupted from his cat nap by two very noisy teens. Omar’s bed had been abandoned when he moved out, and that room happened to have a lock installed on the door. Morty wasn’t sure what those two were doing, so he watched impassively for a moment before readjusting himself against a pillow and drifted back to sleep.

Abe and Roman held each other in Omar’s old bed until Morty’s constant staring unnerved them into moving to Roman’s catless room. The single bed was smaller, but it’s not like they hadn’t used it several times before. Eventually though, the two had to face reality and talk things out.

“I want to come home,” Roman declared. “Ulyssa is really happy over there, and maybe she has a shot of bringing people to Arkhelios, but even Grandpa has given up on me. I’m not good at any of my classes, and I kind of burned a lot of bridges when I first arrived.”

“It can’t be that bad, you burned a lot of bridges here too, and you were doing just fine.”

Roman laughed.

“Grandpa tried to marry me off to a straight prince when I wasn’t useful anymore. I can’t even be dumped off on someone properly.”

“You would make an awful consort,” Abe said. “But maybe you don’t belong with a prince. Maybe you could belong with me? Seriously this time, no cheating or running off to marry straight princes.”

Roman looked surprised by the offer.

“Just so you know, I’ve slept with Ulyssa and made out with Jorah. If we’re going to do this, I guess you should know that. ” Roman shook his head. “I move to a different country and still only hook up with people from Arkhelios.”

Abe nodded. He’d assumed that much.

“Just so you know, sometimes I hear voices in my walls, and I think my house is haunted.”

“Ookay.” Roman was intially baffled by the admission, but he’d seen a lot since leaving Arkhelios, and the world in general was turning out to be very different than he’d thought it was. “I guess no hooking up at your house then.”

“You know my Mom would kill you if she ever caught us,” Abe laughed. “The only thing my parents can agree on these days is that they really don’t like you.”

Malika pretended to be surprised when she walked into the living room and caught her grandson snuggling with that Chun boy. Very little happened in her house that she was not aware of. It was one of the benefits of being a tarot card reader. She would keep this to herself though; Salem was already too hard on their grandson. He was far too stubborn to realize that pushing Roman too hard would just push him into the arms of Abe and the Helios family. Subtlety was what was needed here.

“Roman! You’re home! What a surprise! I hope everything is okay at school.”

The boys all but jumped away from each other at the sound of her voice, and she sighed. Who did they think they were fooling exactly?

“No, everything’s fine,” Roman stammered. “I was just practicing my homework for magic class by teleporting here and Abe was just walking by, so I invited him in to catch up.”

Abe was beet red, and Malika saw the beginnings of a small hickey on Roman’s neck when he turned his head to look guiltily at Abe.

He must have inherited Omar’s stupidity. Even Kamalani could lie more convincingly than this.

“How wonderful that you’re progressing so well in your studies. Abe, would you like to stay for dinner then?”

Abe bolted up and looked towards the door.

“No, thank you,” he replied quickly. “I think my mom is working late, so I should help my dad make dinner.”

“Of course. “

So the Chuns don’t know about this little romance either. Interesting.

“Thanks for the visit, Roman. I hope to see you again soon!”

Abe walked as quickly as he could towards the front door. When she heard the door close, Malika hugged Roman and then beckoned him to take a seat next to her on the couch.

“Have I ever told you that I once almost dated Abraham Helios?” she asked.

Roman looked appalled.

“Abraham? Gross, what could you possibly see in him?”

Malika pulled Roman closer to her in a motherly embrace.

“He was very attractive as a young man,” she replied. “He had so many ideas and such great potential. When I was your age, I thought for sure that we would get married and shape Arkhelios together. But then he betrayed me like young people sometimes do, and gave himself to nearly any girl he met. When I met your grandfather, I was a little older and wiser, and I knew that we could build a life together instead of following teenage hormones.”

Roman froze in place.

“Abe and I are just friends, “ he lied. Why was everyone in his life so against him dating Abe? He was a Helios through his mother, but that should hardly matter. Still, better not to make his grandparents even more disappointed in him at the moment. Maybe if he and Abe could make it until they were in college, they could finally tell their families to leave them out of their grudges.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Malika said warmly. “The people we love as teenagers so rarely stay in our lives as adults. Friendship is what usually endures over the years. When you’re an adult, I’m certain that this will make sense to you.” She winked and pulled Roman into an even tighter hug. “Now go get Wanda to send you back before your grandfather comes home.”

#ts2 #sims 2 #arkhelios #post arkhelios #Roman Bellamy #Abe chun #sims 2 pictures #ts2 pictures

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imagine-that-one-thing · 3 years

Note

Hey bub!! I love your writing. I don’t know if your taking any requests or anything but if you are, it would be really cute if you did a little something about Harry and his 2 year old little girl going to a cookout for 4th of July. They could go over and spend time with Anne and Gemma have a little pool party and bbq. His little girl throw a couple tantrums and put her in timeout and threaten her with “if you don’t behave y’ going inside” and also have Harry buy them matching clothes and bathing suits. I know it’s late since the 4th was a couple days ago but I just thought it would be really cute. And also I don’t know if the UK celebrates the 4th at all (sorry if they don’t, I’m not from there and I’m not really smart with other counties lol)

Hello, there!

The UK doesn't celebrate the 4th of July. It's just an American thing unless they wish to celebrate just for the fun of it. I have been in the US for a few 4th of July's, and it's pretty fun, but other countries don't celebrate it. I tried this piece of writing, but I have a headache, and I am tired, but I wanted to answer this as soon as I saw it.

With the chaos with everything going on, Harry had no intentions of travelling back to Europe any time soon. On the contrary, he liked the idea of not lugging his two-year-old through airports and on a long haul back to England. But, with his wife back and forth from New York to LA and both of them constantly flying, he decided that travelling for one of the busiest holidays was not the smartest of ideas.

Harry watches her in the rearview mirror, her little hands tugging at her little converse that she refuses to want to keep on. Of all the things for her to fight him on, she wanted to choose the shoes this morning. She doesn't care to fight him on the little red bow in her hair or the fact he promised his wife that he would make sure to wear the matching shirts she had sent. He isn't sure what it is about her tradition of wearing matching shirts and American apparel, but he won't question it. His wife may be stuck working, but her every wish is his command. "Why you playin' with your shoes?" Harry questions, his daughters instantly looking up at him, her lips falling into a pout, shaking her head at him. "Gotta keep 'em on until we get to your Aunt Gemma's, just a few more minutes," Harry encourages, watching as she narrows her eyes but quickly lets go of her shoes with a heavy huff. If anything, his daughter got from his wife. It was most definitely her sass and attitude. His daughter did not get her obedience from him. Harry chuckles to himself, shaking his head and continuing to drive.

Reaching his sister's house, he pulls into the driveway and turns to look into the back seat, "Now, darling, promise to be good?"

His daughter nods her head with a sweet little smile, "Yes, Daddy," she agrees, "But no shoes?" She questions, gesturing towards her shoes, causing Harry to sigh heavily. He knows she is going to bug him about the damn shoes until he gives in.

Harry hops out of the car and opens the back door, leaning in and unclipping his daughter from her seat, "Come on, lovely," Harry grins, taking her out from her car seat and placing her down, her little shoes hitting the hot concrete, the LA sun already scorching as it shines in the early morning. Harry turns back around, reaching in to grab the bag of all the essentials, spare clothes, spare bottles, anything he could think of that he may need. As much as his sister loves her niece, Harry knows that she has not had the time to buy toddler items for her niece in her prompt move to the US. "Hey, hey, no running off-" Harry begins, noticing his daughter hurrying off. He goes to scold her but stops when she sees her running into his mother's arms. "Goin' to give me a fuckin' heart attack one day," Harry mutters to himself, taking a breath to calm down. He is always on edge when her little legs take off.

"Oh, my darling, hello!" He hears his mother's gracious voice sound as she holds her grandaughter tightly, "Almost got yourself in trouble as always," Harry's mother chuckles, stepping closer to Harry.

"You got that right," Harry responds, offering his mother a small smile, "Hi, Mum," he greets, kissing her cheek before placing a small hat on his daughter, "Glad you made it in safely. How was your flight?" Harry asks.

"Quite lovely, not as crowded as I expected. Your sister has been here for a week and is going to burn her house down. She has the BBQ going..." Anne trails off.

Harry laughs, "Is that why I can smell charcoal?" ... "No need to worry. Your favourite son is here to save the day." Harry closes his car door, "Y/N sends her love. But, unfortunately, she couldn't get a flight out in time," Harry sighs, his lips turning into a frown for a brief moment.

"I know, she called me earlier. I told her I would fly out to visit her next week."

"Wow, okay, I see how it is," Harry chuckles, "Don't plan to visit me but will fly to my wife, got it," Harry gently nudges his mum, purposely teasing her.

***

Harry spent the morning in the pool, throwing his daughter around in the crystal clear pool water, her giggle filling the space around them. He had wanted to swim with her before the pool became too crowded for her. He knows she'd get anxious and overwhelmed, so it was only fair to give her a swim before the chaos.

With a dry towel wrapped around her body and her little fourth of July bathing suit, her hair falls around her face, her lips pouting as she subtly stomps her little feet, "But Daddy," she whines, not pleased with the fact she has to get out to reapply sunscreen.

She has been on her best behaviour until now, and Harry has to be the bad guy for a good reason.

"If ye' don't behave yourself, you're going to go inside and sit in time out," Harry softly informs his stubborn daughter, "Now, we can put your sunscreen on and wait for a little and go back in the pool, or we can go sit inside."

"Aunt Gemma no have a time out chair," his daughter responds.

"I will find one, darling," Harry responds, trying not to laugh at her comment, "So, pool or time out?"

"Pool," she mumbles, dropping her arms in defence and giving into Harry's demand for a quick sunscreen break.

"Good decision. Do want a juice?" Harry offers as he picks her up and carries her away from the edge of the pool. "Aunt Gemma has your favourite," Harry grins, doing his best to keep his daughter hydrated without having to fight her on it.

"Orange?"

"Of course," Harry responds, stepping inside the house, "If you ask nicely, she might give you some," Harry continues, placing her little feet down, adjusting her towel before gesturing for her to head to his sister.

***

Harry stands in the backyard with a beer in his hand, a few mutual friends' of him and his sister talking with him as he grills on the BBQ, ultimately taking it over like a typical Dad. He knew if he left it to his sister, everyone would be eating burned food and God knows what else. "Mate, we need to start our tequila label. We would have a good brew."

Harry chuckles, "Oi, I told you that the last time I had too much to drink, and you told me I was bonkers."

Niall shrugs, taking a sip of his beer, "Well, I was not in the right state of mind."

"Whatever," Harry shakes his head, "Did you watch the game?"

"Of course, I did. Did you?"

"No, my cable provider here doesn't play it," Harry huffs, "Had to listen on my phone and missed it all."

Before Niall can reply, they both hear the little whines that are all too familiar. He turns his head and finds the little girl with brown curls looking around, looking lost as she tries to find whoever she is looking for. "Over here, sweetheart," Harry calls, already beginning to walk towards her. He reaches her and picks her up, holding her on his hip, "What's the matter?" he questions as she wipes away a few tears. He can tell she is overwhelmed with her eyes darting around everywhere, her heart beating fast.

"I want Mummy," she sniffles, "Aunt Gemma left, and I no know where she went," she spits out through sniffles, burying herself into Harry's neck.

Harry sighs and caresses his hand to her back, "I know, we will see Mummy soon. I am sure Aunt Gemma is around somewhere," he assures her, "Come on, let's go inside for a minute," Harry whispers, passing the BBQ duty off to Niall, gesturing his head to the house, and Niall nods.

Harry takes his daughter inside, the cool air whispering around them as he passes a few friends and walks down the hallway, finding his sisters room and sitting on the edge of the bed. He massages his daughter's back, holding her close and adjusting her legs to be more comfortable. "Sleepy, hmm?" Harry softly challenges, starting to rock her slightly. She mumbles something inaudible, and he smiles to himself, "Sweet dreams, my darling," he whispers, beginning to softly hum, rocking her to sleep like he always does, no matter where or when.

The bedroom door slowly creaks open, and Harry flicks his eyes towards the door. "Sorry," he whispers as his sister walks in. "Didn't mean to take your room but figured it would be the quietest," Harry informs his sister, guilt settling in as he realises he didn't bother to tell her he would be in her private space.

"Shh," she shakes her head, "I don't care, brought her blanket," she holds up the small yellow blanket that his daughter loves, carefully placing it over her petite body.

Harry continues to rock his little girl, looking down at her as she peacefully sleeps. In his arms, he holds his pride and joy. No matter how many times she tests his patience and takes her shoes off, the little girl is everything to him. He'd drop everything for her in the blink of an eye, no matter what time of day it is. Outside, the other adults are having the time of their life, drinking beer, eating some good American food, and celebrating the occasion. Harry wouldn't want to be anywhere else but holding his little angel and watching her sleep, making sure she feels safe and secure.

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shotsbyshae · 4 years

Text

The Wolf

Warnings: Language

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader

Words: 3.4k

Summary: A blast from Ransom’s past blows into town, but there’s more to you than meets the eye.

Song: The Wolf by The Spencer Lee Band

Tag list is open

*Spoiler free: no movie connections whatsoever.

I watch you burn this place to ashes Move that ass and raise a glass To how you love to misbehave, baby

Many Years Ago

Being sent to live with an estranged great aunt is every young girl’s dream – not.

You never knew your mother, but your father – that loss is still fresh.

Not that you’ll go around talking about it.

It didn’t take long for you to be labeled the freak at school. You’ve gotten really good at acting like it doesn’t bother you – it does. Maybe for starters, you shouldn’t have raised your hand in class when the teacher asked if anyone thought ghosts were real.

You hear a twig snap behind you and quickly turn to find no one there. It’s a long walk to your aunt’s house on the main road, but it hadn’t taken you long to find this short cut through the woods. As long as the sun is still out, you should be fine – right? After a few more steps, you can sense the presence of someone – or thing – behind you.

It happens so fast, he doesn’t have time to think as you swing around with your backpack, using it like a weapon to hit him square in the chest. You grab his arm, sweeping his legs out from under him with your foot and he’s on his back in the dirt and leaves staring up at you wide-eyed.

“Not the face!” the blue-eyed twelve-year-old kid with dirty blonde hair exclaims, his free hand covering his face haphazardly. “Shit.”

You recognize the boy from your class, and you release his arm slowly, “Why are you following me?”

He takes a deep breath before he responds, “In class today, you said you think ghosts are real.” You fold your arms across your chest, waiting for the onslaught of cruel jokes, but the boy’s brow furrows slightly. “I think so too – not that I’d admit it to the entire class – obviously.” He smirks as you roll your eyes.

“That’s why you followed me?” you glare at him in annoyance.

“No,” he says, propping up on his elbows, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I know of the perfect house. Whaddya say – ghost hunt?”

You contemplate saying no, but if something happened to this kid while he ventured into some ramshackle old house, you’d feel partially responsible. It won’t be until later when you find out the perfect house is actually his grandfather’s old mansion. Surprise – it’s not haunted. Just creaky old floorboards.

“Fine,” you remark, offering your hand to him as you give him your name while pulling him to his feet.

He grins brightly, “I’m Ransom.”

Now

“Who’s that?” Ransom questions the man standing next to him, as he watches you casually lean across the pool table, lining up your shot.

“You don’t remember her,” Howie comments, glancing from you to Drysdale who cocks a curious eyebrow. “Middle school.” He adds, trying to jog Ransom’s memory.

The realization flashes across his face, “No – shit – really?” He does remember you – the two of you were friends.

Best friends actually.

Then you left.

Howie nods, “Showed up in town today.” Ransom finishes the bourbon in his glass before he places it on the bar. “What are you doing?” The look on Howie’s face is comical as Drysdale runs his fingers through his hair.

“I’m going to say hi,” he comments.

“She’s been giving Greyson ‘fuck me’ eyes all night,” Howie remarks as Ransom turns to walk toward you. “Good luck.”

Ransom knows he doesn’t need luck.

He’s Ransom fucking Drysdale and he knows you better than Greyson Moore.

Or at least he thinks he does.

He approaches the table slowly, taking in the sight of you. Time had been more than generous to you and it wasn’t a surprise that Moore was hovering over you. A new face like yours – fresh meat – always brings the wolves out.

Ransom stops just shy of the table, waiting for you to make your next shot. Once you sink the next ball, he comments, “It’s been a long time Trix.”

You cut your eyes over at the man as you stand up straight, “Ransom.”

“Trix?” Greyson says the name in confusion. “I thought you said your name was –”

“Oh,” Ransom interrupts, casting a devilish grin in Moore’s direction. “It’s just an old nickname my grandfather gave her.” He glances back to you as you line up another shot. “We go way back – don’t we?”

You miss the shot.

Sighing as you lean against the pool table you look at the man in annoyance, “What do you want Ransom?”

He looks at you innocently, “To catch up with an old friend.”

You laugh dryly, “We stopped being friends a long time ago – or did you forget?” You wait a moment to see if he remembers the night, but it’s obvious he doesn’t, and you shake your head. “Of course you don’t.”

Ransom watches you curiously, “What did I forget?”

“Nothing – look,” you glare at him. “I’m trying to enjoy my evening here with my new friend.” You point toward Greyson who doesn’t hide the smug smile on his face. “So, if you’ll excuse us.”

Ransom clenches his jaw, irritated by how quickly you shut him down. Aside from who he is, the two of you had spent two summers as children running around his granddad’s estate. Before cell phones and computers took everyone’s attention, when the two of you relied on your own imaginations or books as sources of entertainment.

“Yea – fine,” he responds coldly before he turns away from the pool table.

He downs his second glass of bourbon after another hour passes by, having watched you with Greyson the whole time, ignoring anyone who approached him. He was too busy doing a deep dive into his memories, trying to figure out what you were implying that he’d forgotten about.

Greyson’s hand is at your waist, as if it’s supposed to be there, and he’s whispering something into your ear as you take a sip from the beer bottle in your hand. You smile at whatever he’s saying before your eyes flick up to meet Ransom’s gaze.

He’s done.

Why the hell he’s let himself sit here this long is beyond him. He doesn’t know you – not anymore. Greyson can fucking have you for all he cares. He places his glass on the bar and grabs his coat from the stool before heading for the backdoor.

Once outside he digs in his pocket for his keys, as he unlocks the driver’s door, he hears an unfamiliar voice behind him.

“Hey, aren’t you Hugh Drysdale?”

“I’m not in the mood pal,” he begins as, he turns to face a man roughly his size holding a pistol level with his forehead. “Whoa.”

“Hugh Drysdale,” the man reiterates, a far-off look in his eye.

“Look – you want the car,” Ransom begins to offer him the keys. “It’s yours. You want cash – I have cash.”

The sound of metal clangs loudly from behind the man and Ransom jerks, watching as the man crumples to the ground. His eyes fly back up to see you standing there with what appears to be a piece of metal pipe. You don’t look fazed by the situation, neither scared or nervous, as you drop the pipe casually.

“What the fuck?” Ransom exclaims.

“We need to go,” you say calmly before moving to the passenger side of his car.

“No – psycho,” he shakes his head. “You just whacked a guy with a lead pipe, what the hell is going on?”

You lean across the roof the small silver car, eyes narrowing slightly, “I just saved your life – get in the fucking car.”

Ransom hesitantly slides into the driver’s seat next to you, noticing as you pull a phone from your pocket. He turns the key, bringing the car to life before throwing it into drive and pulling out onto the dark roadway.

“Okay,” he comments, once he’s on the highway. “Care to explain why an hour ago you were giving me the cold shoulder, yet here you are.”

You hold your phone up, showing him the screen. The blue-eyed man does a double take in confusion at the sight of his face on the screen, along with following:

$50,000 Reward.

“What the hell is that?” he asks incredulously.

“Came across this morning,” you respond, dropping the device back in your lap. “Someone wants you dead.” Turning toward him slightly in the seat, you watch his reaction in the glow of the dashboard. “So, who did you piss off?”

He contemplates for a moment, brows furrowing as he adjusts his grip on the steering wheel, “I mean, that list is long, but no one that would try and kill me over it.”

“Well,” you begin to respond, but stop as you reach for the phone that vibrates against your leg. You look at the screen. “Someone is and they just upped the bounty.” You turn the phone showing the increased number of $75,000.

“Fuck,” Ransom says under his breath. “When I get home –”

“You can’t go home,” you interrupt. “That’s the first place they’ll be looking. We need to get you out of town until we can find out who’s behind this.” Punching in an address on your phone you start the navigation on it before handing it over to Ransom. “Here, I have a place we can crash for the night. It’s off the grid so to speak.” He takes the device as he nods his understanding.

“Why are you helping me?” he questions quietly after a moment.

“Being an asshole shouldn’t be a death sentence,” you respond sincerely. “But sooner or later Ransom, your demons catch up to you.”

Past

“Don’t you dare,” your tone is stern as you point your finger at the boy with the water pistol. Your hair is loosely pulled back into a ponytail and you’re in denim shorts with a red tank top – appropriate for a Fourth of July cook out.

“Nothing’s going to save you now,” there’s a malicious grin on Ransom’s young face.

“Trixie dear, will you fetch the lemonade,” Harlan comments causing you to instantly stick your tongue out at your friend before bolting inside the large house.

“Why does he call her that?” Richard remarks in annoyance to his wife. “That’s not her name.”

“That book series maybe,” Linda responds. “The girl detective.”

“What does it matter?” Harlan interrupts them shooting an icy glare in Richard’s direction.

“I’m just saying,” his son-in-law begins, obviously one too many gin and tonics in to stop at this point. “You treat that girl better than you do some of your own grandkids.” Richard glares at Harlan in contempt. “And don’t think they haven’t noticed.”

The older man doesn’t falter as he responds, “Maybe they should consider she is the better child. A friend of mine once told me family doesn’t end with blood, she’s as much a granddaughter to me as Ransom is my grandson.” Harlan’s eyes narrow slightly at Richard. “And if that bothers you – or anyone else – you’re free to go.”

Now

You open the door to the small cabin as you say, “Well, someone wants you dead, so what did you do?”

“I have no idea,” Ransom responds following you inside as you flip a light switch, illuminating the small interior of the living area.

“Do you owe someone money?” you close the door behind him, locking the deadbolt as he shakes his head, moving instinctively towards the refrigerator across the room. “Did you sleep with someone’s wife?”

He turns to look at you, contemplating that question a moment before he shrugs his shoulders innocently, “Maybe.”

“My God,” you roll your eyes. “You really are the worst – aren’t you?”

“Oh,” he places his hands on his hips. “And you’re a saint?”

“At least no one’s trying to kill me,” you remark coldly.

Ransom watches you for a moment, the silence in the room deafening.

“What happened?” he finally asks. “What am I missing? We were friends.”

You close your eyes, inhaling slowly before glancing over to him, “Winter formal – the night you ditched me because you decided you were too good to be friends with me anymore.”

His mind races quickly through the events of that night, knowing he’d never thought that, much less said it, “Who told you that?”

“Carla Santoni.”

A laugh escapes him as he remembers the gossip queen, “And you believed her? I never ditched you, I was stuck in Mr. Elkins office for punching Ron Willis in the face.”

“What – why?” you narrow your eyes at him, the new information surprising you.

Ransom’s gaze shifts to the floor, “He was being dick.”

“Ron was always a dick,” you remark, tilting your head as you fold your arms across your chest. “Try again.”

He takes a deep breath as his gaze flicks back up to you, “He was being a dick about you – okay? He called you freak. So – I hit him.” The surprise on your face is evident, but you try to conceal it as he shakes his head slightly. “God Trix, you – you were my best friend. My only friend – you thought –” His voice trails off and you can see a tinge of sadness in his features. “I’m sorry.”

You clench your jaw as you catch a glimpse of that thirteen-year-old boy you used to know in those deep blue eyes. Glancing away from him, you remember how hard the two years you’d spent here had been. Surprisingly enough Ransom was the only thing that made this place tolerable – him and Harlan.

Now, One Week Earlier

You inhale deeply before you climb from your car, taking in the familiarity of the estate as the front door opens. The older man greets you with a warm smile as you make your way up the steps. He’s the grandfather you never had and part of you had envied Ransom when you were children for being so lucky.

“Oh – my Trixie,” he says as you smile at him before accepting his embrace. “I have missed you.” Harlan steps back, taking a better look at you. “How have you been?”

“I’m good,” you sigh with a warm smile. The two of you have managed to stay in touch throughout the years, mostly on Harlan’s behalf, for which you’re grateful. “So, tell me – what’s going on?” Watching the old man carefully as you question him gently. “Why did you send for me?”

“It’s Ransom,” his demeanor falls slightly, taking your hand in his. “I’m worried about him – I think he’s messing with the wrong kind of people. He needs someone to talk to him.”

You laugh slightly, “And you think he’ll listen to me?”

Harlan’s features soften again as his hand moves to touch your cheek gently, “My dear – he’s only ever listened to you.”

Now

Ransom watches as you warm up the canned Chef Boyardee on the stove. It was one of the few things in the pantry that wasn’t expired.

“Does Granddad know you’re in town?” he finally asks, and you glance over your shoulder at him, giving him the look, he remembers it all too well, making him feel like a kid again. “Nevermind – of course he does.” Ransom sits on a stool at the small kitchen island, tapping his finger idly on the white tile countertop. “Next question.” You continue to stir the ravioli, keeping it from sticking to the bottom of the pan as he says. “Are you some kind of assassin now?”

You turn to him slowly, a puzzled look on your face, “What?”

“The messages about me on your phone,” he responds. “How else would you get them?”

“Right,” you nod, before you turn to turn the knob on the stove off. “I have a friend, he’s in that line of work.”

“He,” Ransom says it with a tone.

“He knew I was in the area,” you continue, scooping some of the ravioli into one of the blue bowls you found in the cabinet. “Ketch sent it to me, checking to see if I might know you.” You walk across placing the bowl with a spoon on the counter in front of Ransom. “And I did.”

“So – your boyfriend’s an assassin,” he remarks before taking a bite of the ravioli.

“No,” you turn and walk back to the stove.

“No – he’s not – or you don’t have a boyfriend,” Ransom mutters with his mouthful.

Rubbing your hand across the back of your neck in frustration, you turn back around to face him, “Is that information even relevant?”

Ransom visibly contemplates the question for a moment, eyes darting to his left before focusing back on you, eyebrows high on his forehead, “Given my reputation – nope.”

Past

“I can’t go to boarding school,” your aunt had broken the news last week and you look across the desk at Harlan. “What am I going do? It’s obvious she found out what really happened to Dad.”

Harlan is the only person you’ve told the truth to about your father – afraid to even tell Ransom. Not that it matters, he’s moved on to more popular friends anyway.

“I’ve spoken with her,” he responds. “I have a friend – he specializes in this sort of thing. He has two boys that stay with him often and he’s agreed for you to come out. Said he even met your father once.”

Harlan watches your eyes brighten up almost immediately at the words and there’s hope in your voice, “Really?” He nods as you climb from the chair you’re in, and rush around the edge of the large desk, throwing your arms around his neck. “Thank you – thank you.”

You feel bad for leaving without saying anything to Ransom.

Being a kid is tough.

Suffering your first heartbreak is tougher.

Now

“This is better than I remember,” Ransom comments, indicating the ravioli with his spoon. You’re standing beside where he’s sitting at the kitchen island, but you don’t respond to his comment only smile slightly. “Well, aside from who’s trying to kill me, how have you been?”

You glance over at him finally, “It’s been good – you?”

“I’ve been alright,” he responds with a nod of his head. “It makes sense now. Why you left without saying good-bye.”

“I was just a kid Ransom,” you say quietly. “I was hurt.”

A dry laugh escapes him, “That moment – that misunderstanding.” His eyes stare up at you, and you can tell there’s so much he’s hiding – from you – from everyone. “It fucking broke us Trix. We weren’t kids anymore after that.”

You have to look away from the intensity of the stare, but you nod your agreement. Ransom shoves his spoon back into the bowl of ravioli as he says, “Well, you live and learn I guess.”

You feel as if you’ll get whiplash from the extent of how quickly his mood seems to change and you’re thankful when your phone buzzes. You pull it from the back pocket of your jeans, and you look at the screen. You have to stare at it for a moment, trying to calm yourself down. Ransom may get whiplash if you don’t.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you exclaim turning your glare towards the man beside you.

“What?” he questions in confusion.

“Where’s the ring?” you ask, and Ransom raises his eyebrows waiting for you elaborate. “It would be silver looking – gaudy.”

Realization strikes him, “Oh – it’s at my house. Why?”

“Where did you get it?” you ask, irritation written all over your face.

“Poker game,” Ransom responds, unsure why you’re so angry with him all of the sudden. “I won it in a poker game. It’s hideous, but it’s all the guy had left.”

“What did he look like?”

“Shady, blonde hair,” he begins as you slide your phone across to him, a photo on the screen.

“So – not this guy?” you question him, and Ransom looks at the picture on your phone.

“No, not him. Who’s he?”

“That’s the guy who the ring belongs to,” you respond. “It’s called the Haxon ring. He thinks you stole it.”

“Well, let’s go get it,” he says quickly. “Give it back – explain what happened.”

“It’s not that simple,” you respond.

Harlan was right, Ransom was messing around with the wrong kind of people.

“What do you mean,” Ransom watches you curiously.

“You didn’t just piss off anyone,” you remark taking a deep breath. “That guy is Crowley.”

Ransom glances back at the dark-haired man in the photo before looking back up to you. Shaking your head as you place your hands on your hips, you can’t help but laugh.

“Way to go Ransom, you pissed off the King of Hell.”

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fanfic #knives out #knives out fanfiction #knives out fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #crossover #supernatural #supernatural crossover #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic

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orangesrotting · 3 years

Text

Zoya fidgets with the necklace at her collar, a thin gold chain that is all she has left of her mother. It is less of a nervous gesture, more anticipation, and it has been years since she has set foot in this old town. It has changed a bit but not to the point of unrecognition. The cobblestoned path remains the same however, and Zoya is pulled into a reminiscence from her high school days, walking down this same path to the coffee shop on Main Street. Her caffeine addiction still remains but she doubts the coffee from the city is nearly as good as the one from here.

Her breath puffs out into a cloud of moisture and Zoya watches it dissipate. She cannot say she has missed the biting cold of this town but she has grown accustomed to it, something she hasn’t lost even though she hasn’t set foot here in years. It is nostalgic, and it brings a soft smile to her face.

It’s been close to ten years but the high school is still the same. A massive red brick building, covered in spray paint from what the school board had deemed “vandalists''. Zoya thinks the paint is nice, however, unlike the board, who believe it has marred the school’s exterior, when really it is really quite beautiful. There is a mural of a piano and notes flowing from its keys, and one of a locked heart seeped in darkness. It keeps the school alive, in her very respectable opinion.

She hears a crackling of leaves behind her and turns to meet a very smug grin, one that she has not expected to meet, one she hasn’t seen in years. “Didn’t expect to see you here, Nazyalensky.”

Nikolai Lantsov.

She does not reply, instead glares at him, mustering all of her get-the-hell-out-of-here energy she has. Zoya has not seen her former next-door neighbor since she went to college and she would have very much liked to keep it that way. But Lantsov shows no notion of leaving, instead he leans against the giant oak tree in the courtyard. “I’m hurt, Nazyalensky,” he continues, mock-wounded. The hurt in his voice is so exaggerated it is comical, fitting to his personality. “You come all the way out here and don’t even visit?”

“And why on Earth would I do that, Lantsov?” She lifts an eyebrow. She hates that she has to look up to him, given that he was very, very tall and Zoya was, well, not short per se, but tiny by comparison.

His hand very dramatically flies to his heart, and she remembers their high school production of Hamlet, starring none other than the blonde-headed idiot in front of her. It is a pity that the death scene had only been an act. “I’m wounded, tsaritsa.”

And there it is- his childhood nickname for her, a name that she has been called over swing sets and over family dinners pretending to be civil. Zoya suppresses the urge to laugh, but Nikolai picks up on it anyway and gives her a grin that would have melted the heart of any other person. It does not melt hers (she has to deny that there was a corner of her heart that twinges in something akin to endearment seeing the look upon his face). She rolls her eyes, and he picks himself off the ground, brushing dirt that has gotten on his trousers. “Why are you so dressed up?” she asks wryly, finally taking note of his gray suit.

His all-too-familiar smirk reappears. “Why, only for you, Nazyalensky.”

·☾·

Zoya rummages through her suitcase, silently cursing Genya for telling her to wear something “pretty”. The redhead herself is lounging on Zoya’s bed, red-varnished nails glinting in the afternoon sunlight and her large wire-rimmed glasses sitting atop her playfully messy curls. To anyone who didn’t know her, the look would be casual but Zoya knows that every aspect has been carefully done, though the glasses were likely going to go before they met Genya’s fiance David.

“Why don’t you pick something yourself?” she asks drily. Genya lifts her head to look at her with appraised eyebrows.

She adjusts her glasses so they are now framing her deep amber eyes perfectly and joins Zoya to look at her suitcase in distaste. “Well, clearly it seems you are unable to function without my help. How ever do you live without me?” Genya huffs playfully. Zoya resists the urge to make a face at her.

“Luckily, that is a circumstance I will never meet,” she says primly instead.

“You should be grateful for it, my darling Zoya.” Zoya will never admit it, hell, she’ll deny it a thousand times, but she silently agrees.

·☾·

Zoya has nearly forgotten the taste of good food, food that is not merely edible but food that is enjoying to eat. It is one of the (now that she thinks about it, many) downsides of living in a large city. Perhaps it is the homesickness she has always denied herself, mixed with a little bit of nostalgia, but it feels like the best dinner she has ever eaten.

They are sitting in the dining room of Lantsov’s house (though it really can’t be called a house, it is so large that Zoya, despite having visited it countless times, still gets lost. She, Genya, and David have dubbed it “The Little Palace”), and the affair is a mix of casual and formal. It serves as an early high school reunion of sorts, although most of the people present have kept in touch. They mingle regardless, and Zoya can hear laughter and the voices blend all into each other until they are nothing but white noise, fading away...away…

And then they are back again, blaring at full volume and it is too loud, too, too loud and her pulse is racing even though she hasn’t exerted herself. The transition is jarring. Her head suddenly feels like it is splitting apart, cracked down the middle and she is having one of the worst headaches of her life. She fumbles for her purse before realizing that she has borrowed one of Genyas’ for tonight, and none of her medication is in it.

She curses vehemently.

A part of her manages to pull together, however, and she is able to make it to the porch and sit on the swing hanging from it. A dry part of her notices that even the swing is fancy. Quite expectant of the Lantsovs, having everything in top quality. It was what they were known for, after all, being the richest people in the town. Though perhaps money didn’t buy everything, considering their relationship with Lantsov.

Her headache, which had previously dulled a bit, is back in full force and distracts her from her thoughts of the Lantsovs. The pain is splitting, and once again the world feels like too much to handle. Voices from the front yard are rattling in her head like pennies in a glass jar, and quite unfortunately, Zoya’s head is the glass jar. She buries her head in her hands to try and dim the sheer volume of it all but it only helps so much.

Then there is a gentle tapping on her shoulder, and she believes the person is also attempting to speak to her but her head is such a mess she does not register the words. Zoya lifts her head and she is met with a pair of wide hazel eyes reflecting a lit chandelier. “Lantsov,” she attempts to grumble but the words are lost in the noise. He seems to understand what she is attempting to say, however, as he grins at her, that same grin she has seen a thousand times before, but it is somewhat charming in the moonlight. She blames it on her state of mind and not in any part on Lantsov himself.

He sits what is an awkward distance away from her, clearly attempting to give her space while still being able to be there to check up on her. Zoya grudgingly gives him points for the matter. She looks at him, too tired to speak. Lantsov must be feeling exceptionally perceptive today because he understands her once more and gestures towards the Mercedes parked in the exceptionally large driveway. She nods, and he helps her up, albeit a little awkwardly.

Her head is still fairly hazy but she seems to have recovered most of her senses. Lantsov lets her choose the music (which wins him more points though Zoya refuses to admit it) and his lips quirk up into an amused smile when he hears the heavy metal. “I didn’t think you’d be into this kind of stuff, tsaritsa.” It is the first thing he has said to her tonight and it is lighthearted, teasing.

She studies him quizzically. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He shrugs, and Zoya arches her eyebrows.

Lantsov very suddenly starts laughing. His hazel eyes are alight with mirth, and his laughter turns into very high-pitched wheezing. Zoya mutters a very colorful curse.

“Lantsov for saints’ sake stop laughing, you're going to get us killed! What on Earth is so funny-”

“I just realized….I don’t…..know…..where to….drop you off……” is what he manages to get out in between bursts of laughter. At this, her lips twitch into the barest hint of a smile, and she is holding back inane laughter of her own.

“Why didn’t you just ask, idiot?” Zoya’s voice is shaky, amusement and a hint of endearment evident in her tone. Lantsov gives her no answer, but a sheepish grin spreads across his face. She shakes her head mock-exasperatedly. “I’m staying at Genya’s.” It is an address familiar to both of them, so many high school days have been spent there.

With the heavy metal blaring in the background, she lets her mind wander to other things, but her thoughts seem to always circle back to the idiot driving next to her. It is strange, she has not seen him in years yet he remains unchanged, the same irritating person she has grown up with. Though perhaps he has lost a little bit of what made him so irritating because looking at him now, she is feeling a little fond. Zoya can remember when they were children, he could always be found at her aunt’s house because he hated staying at home. She’d barely given him the time of day back then, but most of her childhood had been spent with him nonetheless.

Reminiscing sends a pang of homesickness through heart even though she is here. Zoya is reminded of how much she loves this town. She wishes she had visited more often, and promises herself that she will visit whenever she can.

The car stops in the driveway of Genya’s house. The headlights illuminate the door in stark contrast to the pitch-black darkness of the night. Zoya steps out of the car, and before she has the time to really think the invitation to come inside tumbles from her mouth in a breathless rush. “Would you like to come inside for coffee?”

He grins. “Why, of course I’ll join you, Nazyalensky.”

Genya, of course, is still at the Lantsov manor so it is just the two of them in the house. The first thing Zoya reaches for after slipping off her jacket is the coffee machine, which she shouldn’t considering that it is so late but it has become habit for her. “I see your caffeine addiction hasn’t left you,” Lantsov remarks, a smile in his voice though she doesn’t look up to check.

She doesn’t reply, being too busy with her coffee so he continues. “You know, I think you single-handedly kept the coffee shop running for two years. Half of what I was paid came from your orders.” To this, Zoya huffs, mock-offended, but she is smiling.

She brings a cup for him too. It is red, with a small fox painted in gold. He takes it from her gingerly and winces slightly when his fingers come in contact with the surface of the hot mug. Lantsov takes a whiff and his nose wrinkles in distaste. “How on Earth do you drink this stuff?”

Zoya gives him a scathing look, and he recoils in mock fear. “Don’t you dare disrespect the coffee.”

Lantsov sighs dramatically. “Only for you, tsaritsa, only for you.” He takes a deep breath, plugs his nose (a gesture which Zoya does not appreciate and she glares daggers at him but he only winks in response) and drains it all in one gulp. Which is a mistake since the coffee is burning hot.

“Idiot,” Zoya mutters but makes no move to help him. He has dragged himself into this situation after all, and she does not clean up the messes of irritating blonde imbeciles.

His face does, eventually, return to a color that is not as red as the plastic cherries that the bakeries in the city place on their cakes. She has since then finished her own cup, but unlike him, through careful sips that she somehow does not choke on despite the overwhelming urge to burst out laughing.

He stays longer than he should but neither he nor Zoya entertain the fact that it is very, very late. Hours have slipped away, spent reminiscing. It is nice to just sit here and talk and listen. There are an endless number of things that they talk about, ranging from old memories to their respective jobs.

Zoya will deny it to her grave but she realizes she has missed him.

She eventually tires, and when she wakes up, she is met with a Genya’s appraised eyebrows. She realizes that she has been sleeping on Lantsov’s shoulder. He has fallen asleep as well but she makes no motion to wake him.

Genya’s eyes gleam in triumph. “David owes me so much money.”

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pinkchanelbag-moved · 4 years

Audio

pride

mob!bucky barnes x reader

you were the ultimate prize, the one no one could get. except bucky. but now that he finally has you, it feels like you’re sleeping next to a stranger each night.

words: ~3.9k

warnings: very very quick mention of smut, just sad vibes in general

a/n: i really like dis one ngl lol but i still need to edit :* . been jamming to this song for day but i had to slow it and stuff for copyright, but its still a viiibeee so enjoyyy

---

the whole way home, he’s calling you, and the entire time, you’re not picking up. after the fourth or fifth time, when he begins to get fed up, the calls start going straight to voicemail. you’ve shut your phone off.

he sighs and rolls his head back on the velvet covered car seat, rubbing at his neck. he’s tired. his father’s banquet was boring, per usual, and not even on par with the standards of ones he’s seen before. and he fought with you just minutes before the two of you were supposed to leave, forcing him to show up alone. that caught some attention, and if there is anything bucky doesn’t like, it’s attention...

he sat with his friends and his cousins and his friend’s cousins, checking out the new meat arriving into the extravagant garden party in his great aunt’s backyard. there were upwards of fifteen cars parked starting from the driveway until down the street as people poured in, one after the other, some familiar, some old, some young, some with long debt sheets and others large body counts, and bucky and his pals cracked up at scrutinizing the guests. a plump waitress came by and refilled his cup of wine, and he turned to thank her. his best friend and the son of his father’s business partner nudged him on the arm.

“that’s the broad i was talkin’ about from before,” steve said, nodding his head at the backdoor of the house where a new group of girls trickled in. girls in pastel heels and sundresses with sensible handbags. but bucky’s eyes only fell on one girl.

“damn,” he said, leaning back in his chair and noticing that his breath pulled at his lungs a tad harder. “yeah, she really is--”

“you’re lookin’ at the wrong girl, moron,” sam said from bucky’s left. steve pointed not-so-discreetly to the girl right next to the girl bucky had been looking at.

“the brunette,” steve said. “name’s margaret. i know she’s been looking at me, i can tell.”

“who’s that next to her?” bucky asked, his eyes still tracing every part of you. eyes, mouth, hands, hair, legs. his gaze touched each part of you, mesmerized.

“oh...that’s y/n.” steve turned to look at his friend and smiled, sharing a look with sam and shaking his head, the two men laughing. bucky turned to look between them both.

“what?” he asked.

“man, are you that oblivious or just that dumb?” sam shoved his shoulder. “remember that girl reid’s been tryna get with for, what is it--” he looked at steve to confirm, “four months? that’s her. girl’s closed up like an oyster.”

“she’s stuck up?” bucky asked.

“nah, nothing like that,” steve said. “just not interested.”

“maybe she just doesn’t like mafia boys?” sam suggested in her defence.

bucky looked at you as you greeted the hosts, your mouth dancing into a dazzling smile.

“i want her,” he said. steve chuckled.

“figured,” he said.

before he left for the banquet, the two of you were laid up in his king size together as you traced his scratchy jawline.

“i wanna stay here forever,” you said. bucky didn’t reply, just closed his eyes and ran a hand up and down your back slowly. you laid half on top of him, chest to chest, looking up at him with wonder in your eyes. it was something he’d never voice out loud, but every time you stared at him with that kind of love in your eyes, a smug part of him remembered when you’d roll those eyes and walk away as he tried to ask you to a date or the way you’d deadpan when he expressed how much he liked you. it was a long chase. one he’d never put himself through before, and now, he had you. “hey buck...” you began. he opened his eyes and glanced them down at you in acknowledgment.

“do you ever get tired of having to come all the way across town to pick me up?”

“not really,” bucky adjusted his position to put his arm behind his head. “it’s not like i have to drive myself.”

“but, well...i mean, it gets a little irritating to have to pack just a couple of things to come stay at your place for a few days. like, i don’t have all my makeup and clothes and things.”

bucky checked the time on his watch to see how soon the banquet was.

“you still always look good,” he offered.

“you’re missing the point by miles, buck,” you breathed a laugh that he felt from your chest to his. “do you ever think about...about if i lived here? permanently?” bucky’s eyes trailed up to the ceiling.

“what’s wrong with your apartment?” he asked.

“nothing, buck,” you tilted your head to look up at him, trying to gauge his reaction. “just that we’ve been together for seven months. i thought it would be a good step forward. but if you don’t want to, then it’s fine.” you used the hand you hand on his chest to gently push yourself off of him. the hand he had on your waist fell to the bed as you walked off toward your mini suitcase, shuffling through a makeup bag. bucky knew you well enough to know you were just staying distracted, indifferent rather than actually looking for makeup.

“well, i mean, sure, we can step forward and all that, but i don’t see how moving in does that. you’re here most of the time anyway.”

“if i’m here most of the time, it makes sense for me to live here. and i don’t like spending most of my time in a place that doesn’t really feel like my own,” you were mumbling now, looking through the pack of clothes you had brought.

“but it’s not like i feel like your apartment is mine. i’m not taking anything from you, and isn’t it good for us both to have places that can be just for us? why share a place?”

“because that’s what couples do, bucky. just forget i said anything.”

bucky sat up in the bed.

“what, you’re mad now?” he asked, hands resting on the headboard.

“i’m not mad,” you said, not even looking up at him.

“obviously, you are. you’re not looking at me.”

“i’m not mad, buck, because i’m not surprised. i don’t know when it became a part of my routine to have you act like i’m your on-call girlfriend that you don’t actually want to be serious about, but i’m used to it, so how can i be mad?”

“that’s a-level bullshit and you know it,” he replied, the anger already rising in his voice. “you think because i like having my own space that i don’t take you seriously?”

“no, that’s not it. if it was just that, you know i’d never ask you for anything. but bucky...we have not had a change in months. i feel like we’re in the same place we were in a month in dating.”

“isn’t that supposed to be a good thing? the beginning is always the best part before the passion dies and stuff.”

finally, you turned to look at him, something confused and yes, a little hurt, in your eyes.

“i don’t think that. relationships are’t supposed to stay the same, buck, they’re not static. and they’re definitely not supposed to get worse. do you think we’ve lost...what, passion?” you asked.

“no, i don’t,” bucky shrugged, being truthful, but still trying to be nonchalant. “but i don’t think moving in is gonna help us feel a spark or some shit. it’s gonna be, like, a new responsibility that might cause issues.”

“so you’re saying you don’t want to move forward because you don’t wanna deal with the responsibilities?” you asked with raised eyebrows.

“yes,” bucky gestured a hand out. “it complicates things. i’m not trying to be all domestic right now, not at all, actually. we should keep it simple.” he rested his back on the headboard again, thinking you had finally gotten it. instead the last of expression drained from your face and your eyes looked at the carpet. bucky checked his watch again before pushing himself off the bed and stepping in the direction of the walk in closet to find something appropriate to wear.

“you got clothes for tonight, or do you want jordan to drive you home to get ready?” he asked, stretching his back.

“i’m not going,” you murmured, eyes staring dully at your suitcase.

now, as he pulls up to the apartment complex, fixing his cufflinks and running a hand through his hair, he prepares to finish the fight that he suspects he shouldn’t have left prematurely. but there’s no time to ponder over it anymore. he wonders what he has in store, and he wishes desperately you hadn’t brought up moving in. things with you are always good. bucky does love you, and he’s sure you know. it’s just that you’re so restless, always wanting more, and he can’t understand what you think is so wrong about how things are now.

“thanks, jordan,” he tells the driver before leaving the car.

“have a good night mr. barnes,” he replies. bucky makes his way into the lobby and then into the elevator with his hands in pockets. he uses his key card and passcode, then punches in the floor number to his penthouse. the elevator whirs for a a minute until it arrives to his home, opening up to his living room, and there you are. sitting on an arm chair, hands clasped together, lips touching knuckles, your elbows propped on your knees as you stare at the floor, your suitcase beside you.

“y/n...?”

your breathy moans made something devious swell in his chest as he pushed himself further into you. “bucky,” you breathed, gripping the bedsheets. his long, slow, and impossibly deep strokes pushed you nearly to tears, and he knew this. moments like these, or similarly as he sat back on the headboard and watched you bob up and down slowly, head thrown back to watch the ceiling and small hands holding onto his shoulders, his own hand coming to wrap around your prettily exposed throat, that he felt, i have her. the ego boost of a lifetime, if he was being honest. that he had you like this when no one else could, that he was the one that got to watch your breaths streaming in and out as you slept next to him with your hair in your face and your cool and reserved exterior melted away, or that he was the one that watched your figure clad in nothing but a thin sheet as you picked up the room service and sat out on the balcony, legs draped into a comfortable cross as you fed yourself fruit. he stood behind you with an arm wrapped around your waist at the gatherings and dinners, he was with you when no one else believed he could get you. not even you.

“they missed you at the banquet,” bucky begins. you don’t move a muscle. usually, you’re the more vocal one. “i missed you.”

“stop,” you finally say in a quiet voice. bucky pulls his hands out of his pockets, but now not knowing what to do with them, runs them through his hair.

“stop what?” he asks.

“stop trying to be nice.” he furrows his eyebrows.

“you don’t want me to be nice to you?”

“i don’t want you to be be nice to me when you feel like have to because i’m upset about something. i shouldn’t have to be mad or sad for you to act nice,” you say. your voice is somehow both determined and dejected, something bucky’s not used to.

“come on, doll. you’re making it out like i abuse you or something,” he says. “that’s just how i am. everyone knows that. i mean, if i don’t act nice, it’s not because i’m trying not to be. especially with you. you oughta know that.” he takes a few small steps towards you.

“i don’t.” for the first time, you look up at him. your eyes are bloodshot and your face has taken on a reddish hue, surely from crying. bucky is taken aback. recalling what happened before he left, he didn’t think it would get you this worked up.

“you aren’t going?” he asked at the time. “why?�� he folded his arms and stared at you through the wall mirror, but you continued to look at your suitcase.

“i’m not up for it.”

“y/n, i promise we’ll talk more about this when we get back, whenever you want, but let’s just put it away for now and go to this thing.”

“and the next time we talk about this...” you asked him, “will you have anything new to say?” your heart pounded in anticipation of his answer, and you knew his obliviousness would lead him to the wrong one.

you snuck a look at him through the mirror as he shrugged and looked to the side, his face blank, per usual.

“well, you know how i feel.”

you nodded slowly, letting out the breath you’d been holding. that does it, then.

“just go without me, bucky.”

and he did.

“what?” bucky laughed. “four kids? why four?”

you giggled and sipped at your smoothie for a long moment before coming up with an answer.

“i just like kids,” you smiled brightly, and it made bucky smile too, because he so often saw you happy in a way that wasn’t controlled, like you were with your families’ associates and the like. it was nice to see you happy with your guard really down. he realized you were vulnerable around him enough for that. the thought made his smile spread. “and i wanna be the kind of mother that...always has stuff going on at the house, you know? i figure that’s easier with more kids. it’ll be stress, but nothing i can’t handle,” you shrugged.

bucky nodded.

“i get that. my dad was like a superhero to me, but i still just never saw him or got to know him as much as i wanted, considering i adored him,” he looked down at his finished burger plate as he said this, ears turning a little pink. he glanced behind him dumbly, since the shop was already empty. it was closing time, but bucky knew the busboy, and the two of you were permitted to stay late.

you bent your head close to the table to try and meet bucky’s eyes. there was an adorable pout on your lips.

“so you wanna be a good dad? take ‘em to sports games, that kinda thing?” you asked in a baby voice, but bucky didn’t feel a hint of mockery in your voice, so he laughed and shrugged.

“yeah, i guess. it’s a nice idea, at least. i don’t know if i could ever really get there.”

you watched him for a moment as he finished off his milkshake before reaching over and placing your hand on top of his.

“i think you can get there,” you said. bucky looked at your hands, then up into your eyes, smiling and biting his lip. it was a nice thought. he wasn’t sure he was the right guy for it, but it was a nice thought in general.

“y/n, do you actually think that i only think of you as...what, a booty call? is that what you think?” bucky asks, and of course there’s that hint of incredulousness in his voice. “we’ve been together for months. we take trips. we meet people together. we...we’re us. what’s wrong with us that you hate so much?”

“that it’s not us, bucky! how can you say that? we can’t be some united front if we’re not even a team at home. i feel like i don’t know you.” you’re standing now, one hand on the handle of your suitcase. “i feel like i don’t know the truth, between the things, the lies that you told me to get me to want you and the person i see now. that’s just the issue. we’ve been together eight months and i feel like i’m sleeping next to a stranger.”

“what’s the issue, doll?” bucky asked, licking his lips in the pleasure of the banter.

“i’m not pursuing anyone at the moment,” you said as politely as possible with a testy eyebrow raised.

“well, that just makes my job easier, don’t it?” he grinned at you. you chuckled and turned back around to serve yourself some of the delicacies. bucky shot a glance to steve and sam, who were snickered a laughed. sam shot him a sarcastic thumbs up. bucky sucked his teeth and turned back around, gently grabbing your elbow.

“okay, okay, for real. can we just--” bucky pointed at the gap in the backyard fence that led to an alleyway between the big houses. you looked between him and the alley, pursed your lips, and put your plate down to follow him.

he tried a new approach. rather than flat-out asking you on a date, he did a thing girls went crazy over: just asked you a little about yourself, feigned interest (it’s not that he was faking exactly; he listened intently, but he really just wanted a date), and he told you a little about himself, his family. being this close to you for so long with no others around, he could admire how pretty you were. he didn’t care about reid or what other goon had tried for you. he knew he could do it.

when you reached the end of the alley, and you expected to go back, bucky leaned against a chainlink fence and continued the conversation, so you leaned on it next to him, not minding the company. the sun was setting behind a tall house so that the blinding orange rays didn’t light up the spot where the two of you stood, but the soft flare of tangerine enveloped you still. bucky watched your lips as you talked about your father’s work. you looked heavenly. he asked again to take you out before he had really comprehended his sentence. he caught himself and tried to play it off, because hardly anyone could make him slip up and talk before thinking.

“it’s just a burger. what, you don’t like burgers?” he smiled, all teeth, and was sure he was melting some of your tough exterior.

“you had to beg me,” you whisper, but somehow, it’s haunting enough to sound like a shout. “you had to have me, even when i didn’t want you. and when you finally managed to get me to come around...when you made me fall for you, you let yourself lose me.”

“no,” he began, shaking his head, trying to resolve it, resolve this.

“yes,” you continued as he attempted an interjection. “yes, buck, because that’s what’s happening. you’re losing me, bucky, do you understand that?”

“why is your bag packed?” he asks with exhaustion and something else, something cold and detached, etched into his face.

“i’m staying with my brother on the east side.”

“the east side?” bucky repeats incredulously. “no.”

“what are you gonna do, buck? are you gonna call up gino and frankie and make them hold me in the apartment? are you gonna stop me?” your eyes are wide and so, so angry that it manages to put a dent in bucky’s withdrawn attitude. the way they bore into him makes him unable to look directly at you for a moment. “just tell me now, if you plan on forcing me to stay, so i can see what kind of man you are. so i can really see the end of it. is there more, buck?”

“i won’t make you stay if you don’t want to, but...” he begins.

“then move,” you say with such enunciation in each word that it sends shivers down bucky’s spine. “let me by.”

“it’s not gonna happen, james barnes,” you told him. you turned to walk back down the alley and back to the party. the sun had set and the sky was a gentle pink and blue that somehow accented your shrinking figure.

“it’s bucky!” he yelled back at you. he heard your chuckle despite the distance, and he knew he had to have you.

“yn, come on. i...” he pauses to consider that the next words to come off his tongue feel a little foreign, “i’m sorry.”

you turn back to look at him again. “you’re always sorry. even when you don’t know you are because your goddamn ego is in the way. i know you, bucky. you’re always sorry. you just only feel it enough when you’ve pushed me to my breaking point, and i can’t sit around and wait for you to wither me away into nothing before you can learn to treat me how i deserve. because you know i deserve better, but you wanted me to be with you anyway. you had to have me.”

you turned back at the opening in the fence to analyze him one more time.

“when am i gonna see you again?” he called out. from the distance, he saw you tip your head up to the dark pastel sky to contemplate.

“mmm...” you looked back at him, a soft expression on your face, “your dreams, maybe?”

“i’m not gonna let you mess my head up anymore. i need to look after myself,” you say in a quiet voice. “i’m tired of your pride coming between me and you. it’s too hard.” you side-stepp bucky, and he lets you. each word hits him in the lungs until he doesn’t have quite enough breath to reply. to rebuttal. to tell you you’re wrong, things aren’t this way. but he can’t do that because he’d be lying. he can’t even dare to think about objecting to what you’re saying, or he worries he might him an all-time low.

you step to elevator, your suitcase in hand, and call for the elevator.

“do you have a ride?” bucky asks, looking at the marble floor. he then decides against it, decides to watch you since he doesn’t know when he’ll see you again. and the next time he sees you, you’ll no longer be his.

“uber,” you say, staring at the wall of the head like you’re trying to burn a hole in it. you turn the same gaze to him, and sticks his nails into his palm. “i wanted this to work because i love you. but i can’t change you, bucky, as much as i want to.”

bucky brought a fist to his chest.

“you’re killing me, doll,” he called to you. he heard your enchanted giggle.

“goodbye...bucky,” you said. his name sounds like a church choir on your lips. he wanted to hear it a million more times.

the elevator arrives, and you turn away again. take a deep breath, because you can’t believe you’re doing this, but also not believing it took you so long. “goodbye, bucky,” you say with resignation. you stepp in, and only half turn around, briefly making eye contact with the man you love.

you looked at him one more time before stepping through the gap in the fence.

the elevator comes to a silent close, breaking the link of eye contact between you and bucky, whose eyes are glossed over.

and just like that,

you were gone.

436 notes · View notes

peterparkrr · 4 years

Text

Father & Son

By @peterparkrr for @ephemeralstark (I loved all of your prompts! I tried to combine them! I really hope you enjoy <3)

@friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Rating: Teen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, James Rhodes & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: James Rhodes, Tony Stark, Peter Parker, other Avengers briefly

Summary: Rhodey’s certain about two things. The kid is definitely Tony’s son. The kid is also Spider-Man OR Rhodey meets Peter and tries to become the best uncle that he can be.

ao3 link

There’s a boy standing in front of Tony’s couch.

Rhodey stares at him, narrowing his eyes a little. The kid’s frozen in an almost comical position, legs spread wide, one hand swung in front of his body like he knew that someone was coming and tried to make an unsuccessful quick escape.

“Who are you?” Rhodey asks.

The boy blinks once and then lowers his arms slowly until they are hanging limp at his sides. He turns and cranes his neck to try to look down the hallway. When he faces Rhodey again, there’s an uneasy smile on his face—not unkind or shifty, just unsure.

“Er, hi, Colonel Rhodes.” He taps his foot a few times, then glances over his shoulder again. “How are you?”

Rhodey tilts his head to the side. The boy’s voice is familiar. He’s definitely heard it before, but can’t quite place it.

“I’m doing well.” He leaves a pause between each word as he takes a few equally slow steps across the room. “Who—”

“That’s good. Really good. I’m good, too, but actually—” The kid starts shoving the assortment of notebooks, pencils, and loose paper scattered on the table in front of the couch into his backpack and then points toward the hallway. “I should go. So you can, you know, use the room.”

He’s from New York, that much Rhodey can tell. The accent isn’t obnoxious, but it’s definitely clear. Tony probably bumped into him at a scholarship event, or even just on the street outside, and decided to recruit him into his little collection.

It wouldn’t be the first time. There’s one in Tennessee that gets a ridiculous amount of presents on Christmas and some time in the Spring (when Rhodey assumes is his birthday). Then there’s the kid-genius at MIT that Tony waved through a bit of legal trouble after she got caught in an Iron Man-type suit of her own design. Rhodey’s met her a few times, when visiting the campus with Tony. There’s also the spandex-clad wonder who helped out at the airport last year. And that was definitely a kid, no matter how many times Tony dances around Spider-Man’s age. Rhodey knows the difference between a child’s and a man’s voice. It was far too high, almost squeaky at times, enthusiastic and—Rhodey glances at the kid in front of him now—an unmistakable New York accent.

A hand comes down on the kid’s shoulder and he jumps, just a little bit too high.

“Woah there, just me,” Tony says, squeezing once before looking across the room at Rhodey and quirking an eyebrow. “Well, well, well, look who finally decided to drop in.”

“I have to work, Tones. I have a real job. Not everyone has a multi-billion dollar company to pawn off on their girlfriend.”

“That’s—not exactly accurate. Pepper likes responsibilities. It’s a gift.” Tony looks Rhodey up and down, analytical, like he always does these days. He stops at his legs and clicks his tongue. “Braces. Any adjustments? I’ve got a new set downstairs. Should be even more intuitive.”

The kid’s staring at them, too. There’s a very specific combination of interest and guilt etched into his features that Rhodey usually finds on Tony’s face. In fact, it’s also there now, albeit a little more concealed.

“You don’t have to keep doing this. They’ve been perfect for months.”

“Functional, yes. Awesome, maybe. Nowhere near perfect yet. But they will be soon. I’ve got an assistant now.”

Tony sticks his hand in the boy’s hair and smooshes it down, almost absentmindedly, before shoving his whole head to the side. The kid’s reaction is delayed, as if he forces his head to move rather than naturally rocking with the impact of Tony’s hand.

“Well, part-time assistant. Glorified coffee-fetcher.” Tony waves a hand at the kid, who only seems mildly affronted by the ‘coffee-fetcher’ thing. “This is Peter, by the way. I’m glad you’re here, Rhodes. Been meaning to introduce you two.”

Rhodey’s eyes linger on Tony’s hand. It settles on Peter’s shoulder and stays there. The whole thing is natural, like that’s a typical place for it to be. As if this boy—Peter—is comfortable with it there. But it’s more than comfortable, because Peter’s looking at Tony like he’s maybe the most important person in the world. It’s not the usual idolization that Tony tends to get either. This is deeper, like they know each other, really know each other. They’ve both got matching lop-sided grins and if Rhodey squints, that’s not where the similarities end.

Every person Rhodey knows has a story—or fifty—of when Tony has said or done something that has rendered a whole room silent. He has a knack for it. Just like he has a knack for getting on people’s nerves and creating some, admittedly, cool gadgets.

It doesn’t happen to Rhodey as often these days. You know a guy for thirty plus years and it becomes hard for them to shock you.

But now, all Rhodey can do is gape, eyes shifting back and forth between the pair in front of him.

Tony’s smile fades into something more concerned, a by-product of whatever he must be reading from the surprise on Rhodey’s face.

Then the elevator door opens. This time, Peter isn’t the only one to jump, they all startle and turn towards it at once, like they'd been caught at the scene of a crime rather than merely standing in Tony's living room.

Sam and Steve walk out of the elevator, engrossed in conversation. It stops short when they realize that the room isn’t empty.

“Tony, James.” Steve nods, then his eyes widen when they reach Peter. “Oh, hello.”

Sam squints at them. “Who’s the child?”

From the look on his face, Peter takes more offense to that than anything Tony said about his role in the lab.

Tony sniffs and shrugs, shifting his body an almost imperceptible amount so that he’s a half a step in front of Peter. His stance is pseudo-relaxed, something clearly defensive in the tension in his shoulders. Rhodey takes it as a cue and also moves, just a little bit, to try to obscure Peter as much as possible.

Things are better now than they were last year. The team’s back together—no hard feelings, for the most parts, but trust is hard to regain.

“This is Peter. Intern.” Tony elbows him. “Look, it’s Captain America and the Falcon. Aren’t you starstruck?”

“Oh! Yeah—so cool.” Peter starts to salute then winces and crosses his arms. “Mr. Falcon, Mr. America. It’s an honor.”

Steve’s eyebrows are furrowed in that particular way—’constipated puppy’, Tony likes to call it. Rhodey has to agree. Although, he thinks Tony finds it sort of charming, which is where Rhodey draws the line. It would be cute on a toddler, not so much on a grown man. “Why is an intern in your penthouse, Tony?”

“I missed the part where that was any of your business.”

“That’s not—I was just curious—”

“Well, don’t be.”

Peter starts to squirm uncomfortably. When Rhodey makes eye contact with him, he averts his gaze to the ground.

“Oh, okay. I get it,” Sam says, rubbing a hand over his chin. “He’s not really an intern, huh?”

Both Tony and Peter tense even further. Rhodey finds himself doing the same.

“Jesus, Stark, how old is he? Sixteen? Did you just meet him?”

“W-what?” Tony splutters.

“He’s your kid, right?”

Tony looks lost for a moment, then one of his bright, press smiles drifts onto his face. It always shows up when he's about to tell a lie, and suddenly the pieces all click into place in Rhodey's head.

Before Tony can speak, he steps forward, shoving Sam good-naturedly and shaking his head. “That’s ridiculous and you know it. No one would wait sixteen years to slap Tony Stark with a custody case.”

Peter peaks out from around Tony. "I'm seventeen!"

"Strengthens my argument," Rhodey says.

Sam snorts. “Then how do you explain Stark hanging out with a small child?”

“Small child,” Peter repeats in a murmur, lines creasing his forehead.

“He hangs out with quite a few small children,” Rhodey says.

Steve starts to look at Rhodey like he’s wandered into an alternate dimension, which isn’t too far of a leap given their particular line of work.

Sam just shrugs. “Somehow, that’s worse. Very strange.”

Tony frowns. “No—it’s—I’m a good mentor, right Pete?”

Peter beams up at him, smile so wide that Rhodey’s sure it must hurt. “Right.”

Rhodey’s certain about two things. The kid is definitely Tony’s son. The kid is also Spider-Man. How Tony managed to get himself a souped up child is beyond him (and he prays that it’s not Tony's own doing, a lab-experiment gone awry or even more terrifyingly gone right), but he hopes that he’ll learn the story one day. He’s an uncle now, after all.

~~~

Rhodey’s phone starts to ring, a picture of Tony flashing on the screen. Or, it’s a picture of a picture, really—an old one from college that’s framed at his mom’s house.

He grabs his phone from the nightstand and admires the image for a few seconds, reminiscing about simpler times, before picking up.

“H—”

“Rhodey! You haven’t heard from Happy recently, have you?”

He rolls his eyes. “Hello, Tony.”

“That’s my name. Heard from Happy? I can’t get a hold of him.”

Rhodey leans back in his bed, crossing one leg over the other. “Nope. You’re the mutual friend in this situation, you know. Happy and I don’t really hang out without you.”

Tony hums. There are muffled footsteps and Rhodey envisions him pacing.

“Why do you need Happy?”

“He’s supposed to drive Peter home.”

“What, are you—afraid of his mom or something?”

“Aunt,” Tony corrects.

“Aunt,” Rhodey echoes.

That’s something he didn’t see coming. He wonders if the poor kid lost his mom before knowing that his dad was Tony Stark. He wonders how Tony even found out about him. He almost asks, but bites his tongue. It seems like something that Tony should bring up when he’s ready.

“Aunt,” Tony confirms again.

“Alright, so just drive him to the aunt’s place. It can’t be that bad.”

There’s a long pause. “That’s not really what we do.”

“Oh come on, how scary can she—”

“And besides, the kid’s asleep. I don’t want to wake him up.”

“Okay.” Rhodey tries to keep his voice calm and void of annoyance, because his Tony may be a genius, but he’s also the biggest idiot on the planet. And sometimes idiots need patience. It's his duty, both as a best friend, and a newly realized uncle, to provide that patience. “Then tell his aunt that he fell asleep and that he’s staying over for the night.”

The pause that follows is even longer than the last. There are more scuffling footsteps and then he whispers, “but he’s asleep in the lab. Laying on the desk.”

It shouldn’t be this difficult. Rhodey holds the phone away from him so that Tony won’t hear him sigh. “Then wake him up and tell him to head up to his room. Or put a suit on and carry him if you’re that worried about waking him up.”

“What?”

Rhodey counts to three. “Then wake him up and tell him to head up to his room. Or—”

“Room—he doesn’t have a room,” Tony interjects.

It’s Rhodey’s turn to hesitate. “Peter doesn’t have a room at the tower?”

“No,” Tony replies slowly. “Do you—you think he should have a room at the tower?”

Rhodey tries to come up with any possible reason that Tony would think that his son shouldn’t have a room at his place of residence. The only thing that comes to mind is daddy issues. He’s not even sure if that covers it.

“I’m going to take your silence as a yes?” Tony asks

If he needs logic and numbers, Rhodey will give him logic and numbers. Whatever it takes to spell it out to him.

“How many days does Peter spend at the tower?”

“Two—sometimes three. It depends.”

“Okay. Does he stay late often?”

“Yes. I told you, Happy drives him home.”

Rhodey rests his head in his free hand. The kid can’t have been in Tony’s life for much more than a year—either that or Rhodey’s severely lacking in the observation department—and somehow Tony’s managed to twist their relationship into something that defies any sense. Peter clearly adores him based on what Rhodey saw at the tower, and yet Happy’s carting him between his houses and he doesn’t even have a room at his dad’s place.

“I bet this isn’t the first time he’s fallen asleep while over at yours, right?”

Tony hums in agreement.

“So don’t you think it would be easier to have a room for him to crash in? And then it won’t be so much travel back and forth for the kid. It’s probably weird enough without all of that. He has a lot going on.”

“Yeah,” Tony murmurs. “You’re absolutely right. Okay. Room. FRIDAY? Jot that down. What would I do without you, Rhodey? You’re the light of my life. Have I told you that recently? Best thing to ever happen to me. I love you.”

Rhodey jabs at the end call button.

A text pops up a moment later. Rude of you to hang up when I’m being sentimental.

Rhodey pulls up the contact picture of the dorky little boy he used to share a dorm room with before typing back. I love you, idiot.

He receives a string of hearts a minute later.

~~~

Tony’s voice filters into Rhodey’s earpiece. “It’s not moving.”

Steve’s follows. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Tony answers. “I’m going closer.”

Rhodey watches him approach the metal orb. He looks like nothing more than a red dash from here, shooting across the New York skyline.

He glances to his left, where Spider-Man is standing, hands alternating between fiddling in front of his stomach and swinging at his sides like he doesn’t know what to do with them. He hasn’t been his usual chatterbox-self since Tony flew off to scout the sphere from up close.

Rhodey shakes his head. “Be careful. You’re making Spidey nervous.”

The red mask turns to him, eyes on it even wider than usual. “I’m not nervous!”

“Don’t get too close to it, Tony. We don’t know what it can do,” Steve adds.

The words are barely through the comms before the sphere shifts, a flash of green light shooting off its surface. Tony dives and rolls out of the way.

“Oops,” he says. “Made it angry.”

“It’s hostile,” Steve says.

“It’s impressive.” The red blur twists around and then flies closer to the orb again. “Unknown metal, FRIDAY can’t find a match. Dense, too. Shouldn’t be able to float like this with no propulsion. And smooth, laser came right off the surface, no—shit.”

Rhodey takes a step closer, even though it doesn’t do much to shorten the distance between him and Tony. “Shit?”

“It’s a diversion. You guys have to get to Manhattan. Something’s landed. Accounts say it appeared out of nowhere.”

A video pops up on Rhodey’s HUD. There’s a giant metal ship, the outside smooth like the orb, but it’s not spherical. There’s pavement torn up around either side of it and at least one car crushed beneath it, headlights sticking out from the debris. There are civilians running on the outskirts of the disturbance.

“We’re on it,” Steve says. “Tony, stay with the orb. Send for help if it tries anything funny.”

“Fine,” Tony replies after a few seconds. “Leave Underoos here, too.”

“Done. Everyone else, let’s go.”

“What? You guys wouldn’t even be here if I hadn’t told you about the sphere!” Peter protests.

“Exactly,” Tony replies. “The sphere’s yours, so stay here and help me watch it. From the ground.”

“But Mr. Stark, that’s basically telling me to do nothing!”

“Bingo. Keeping you out of trouble.”

Peter crosses his arms over his chest, huffing in indignation.

Rhodey shoots Peter a sympathetic look. Then the full extent of the opportunity to gain Peter's favor dawns on him. “Sorry, kid. If it were up to me, I would let you come with us. Remember that, okay?”

"What," Peter says.

"Just, remember that." Rhodey turns to take off. "See you."

By the time they get to Manhattan, the scene has changed drastically from the footage. The ship has opened up, revealing countless robots in different shapes and sizes, all with the same smooth surfaces as the orb and the ship.

They get to work. It’s harder than it should be. Most of the guns on Rhodey's suit do nothing to the metal—only the strongest blasters inflict any damage. It’s nearly indestructible.

“Er—guys?” Peter’s voice breaks through the chaos. “Something’s—oh my god. Mr. Stark? Mr. Stark?”

Rhodey looks up. The orb is alight, a green haze surrounding it. Tony’s suit is nowhere near it. Rhodey scans the rest of the sky, catching a glimpse of it just before it disappears below the tops of buildings.

“Tony?” Rhodey tries.

There’s no response.

Someone curses over the airwaves.

“Spider-Man?” Steves says. “Do you have eyes on him?”

“It happened so fast,” Peter mumbles. “I saw where he fell. I’ll—I’ll get to him.”

Rhodey exchanges a glance with Steve. He bites his lip and glances back up at the sky, doing a double take when he realizes that the orb has disappeared.

“Hey, Steve.” Rhodey points. “It’s gone.”

“Spider-Man,” Steve says. “Where’d the orb go?”

When Peter's feed crackles into Rhodey’s ears, it’s filled with the staticky sounds of fast movement and heavy impacts.

“What’s up? Did someone say my name?” The kid asks, slightly out of breath. “Sorry, I’m a little busy.”

Steve looks at Rhodey, eyes wide through his mask. “What does that mean?”

There’s a sharp thwip over the comm’s and more scuffling, then silence. Rhodey can’t see Steve’s eyebrows under the mask, but he’s pretty sure if he could, they would be up to his hairline.

“I’m on it.” Before waiting for a response, Rhodey takes off. There’s no angry Steve voice on the comms, so he assumes that it’s the right move.

It takes him less than five minutes to find Peter. He’s tipped off by a trail of webs, hanging from buildings, leading him to an alley.

He lands a few feet away from it, peering inside. There are about a dozen orbs, like the giant one in the sky had split into pieces. Each is varying degrees of shattered or plastered to the wall by web lines that stretch across the alleyway like streamers. Rhodey swivels his head back and forth a few times before forcing himself to tear his eyes away.

Tony’s down—suit collapsed in an unceremonious pile. Peter’s pacing in front of him, clearly agitated, leaning over every few steps and murmuring something that Rhodey can’t quite make out.

He takes a step forward, ducking under one of the webs. “Hey. Alright over there?”

Peter’s head jerks to the side. His shoulders rise in a shrug and he looks back at Tony. “He isn’t moving. I hear his heartbeat though.”

Rhodey’s own heart clenches. He makes the rest of the way into the alley and crouches down next to Tony. He mutters a call for medical as quietly as he can, in an effort to keep Peter calm. It’s probably useless seeing as the kid just told him he can hear heartbeats.

Peter settles down next to him, brushing one hand over Tony’s suit.

“I also meant you,” Rhodey clarifies. “Are you alright? Looks like you had a handful here.”

Peter looks up at him, brow furrowed, until the state of the alley seems to sink in. He shrugs again. “Yeah. I’m okay. I’m—er—pretty strong.”

Rhodey laughs. “Yeah. I got that.”

“I’m more worried about Mr. Stark.” Peter looks back down at him.

Rhodey double-checks that his comm’s are off and then brings his faceplate down. “You don’t have to do that, kid, I know.”

He freezes. “You—know—?”

“All of it,” Rhodey says carefully, before adding, “Peter.”

The kid flinches and scoots away. “Did Mr. Stark tell you?”

“Not exactly. It was just sort of—” ‘Obvious’ isn’t the right thing to say judging by the way Peter’s eyes are blinking rapidly, like a skittish, caged animal. “I figured it out. Look, I won’t tell anyone. But you can drop the whole ‘Mr. Stark’ thing in front of me.”

The nerves seep out of Peter, replaced by confusion. “What? I always call him ‘Mr. Stark’.”

Really, nothing about Tony’s handling of this situation should surprise Rhodey at this point. Somehow it still does. Tony always seems to defy expectations.

“He makes you call him ‘Mr. Stark?’” Rhodey tries to keep his voice as even and nonjudgemental as possible in case Tony decides to wake up, or Peter tells him about it later.

“Oh, no. He always tries to get me to call him something else. It just doesn’t feel right, you know?”

“Ah,” Rhodey says. It’s a relief. One less piece of sense that he’ll have to talk Tony into. “Yeah, I understand that. I bet it’s an adjustment—all of this.”

“A lot has changed in the last year and a half, Colonel Rhodes, let me tell you. Sometimes I think it’s a dream but—” Peter gestures up at the pattern of webs and then down at Tony.

“I bet.” Rhodey bites his lip, trying to decide whether to say more. “I’ve known him for a long time. He’s made some mistakes. And he’ll probably make a couple more, but he’s a good guy. You can trust him.”

“I know that.” Peter’s response is automatic and sure. Rhodey can’t help but smile.

It’s possible that Tony’s doing just fine at the parenting thing. Even if he didn’t think to give his kid a room in his building.

~~~

“Look at this footage, seriously, do you see that?” Tony has FRIDAY pause it and then rewind a few seconds. “Watch.”

The video plays for the third time—Peter swinging around the alley, webs flying in every direction so fast that Rhodey can barely track where his hands are. He watches him grab one of the orbs and smash it between his fists.

“Do you know how durable those things are? I’ve been running tests. They’re stronger than any metal on earth. Make my suit look like aluminum fucking foil.”

Rhodey turns to Pepper. “How many times have you had to watch this?”

“Lost count around thirty.”

Tony scoffs, and then proceeds to replay the video once again

“Proud dad,” Rhodey says, smirking when Tony throws one of his middle fingers over his shoulder.

“It’s not a bad look.” Pepper leans over to wind her arms around Tony’s neck.

“Both of you, quiet. Maybe if I get the impression that you’re paying attention, I won’t have to play it again.”

Rhodey chuckles and tilts his head so he can get a clear view of the screen.

~~~

“Upgrades.” Tony moves his arms in a certain way and the wall slides aside to reveal a new version of the War Machine armor. “More fire-power, since I know you’re into that sort of thing. Also implemented a stealth mode. Peter helped me out.”

Rhodey smiles over at the kid. He’s met with a forced grimace. Peter'll warm up to him eventually. Rhodey will make sure of it. If Tony can manage to shape himself into a dad on such short notice, then Rhodey can definitely get a handle on being an uncle—ideally a cool uncle.

“He helped me with a new set of braces, too,” Tony continues. “Speaking of, those are—”

“I told you to quit with the braces.”

“And I believe I told you that I wouldn’t—doesn't matter, we’ll get to those later. Pete, do you want to do the honors, show him what we’ve done?”

“It’s okay, Mr. Stark.” Peter doesn’t move from his position—sort of slumped against the wall adjacent to the case that the new armor is in. “You can show him.”

Tony glances at Peter and then shrugs, turning back to the display. “If you say so.”

He launches into an explanation, gesturing wildly as the suit fires an impressive sequence of advanced weaponry. Despite the demonstration, Rhodey finds his attention divided, focusing on Peter more often than not. The kid closed his eyes as soon as Tony turned away from him, leaned his head back against the wall. He looks pale, but somehow flushed at the same time—his skin is a deep red high on his cheeks, but almost gray everywhere else. It could be the lighting, but—

Rhodey grabs Tony’s shoulder and yanks him closer, cutting him off mid-sentence. He points at Peter, who doesn’t seem to have noticed the lull in conversation.

Is he okay? Rhodey mouths, because even though Peter seems out of it, he still has freaky super hearing.

Why wouldn’t he be? Tony mouths back.

His eyes are closed.

Well maybe he’s— Tony makes a pillow with his hands and mimes sleeping on it. Tired.

Why would he be so tired?

Tony’s lips form a string of words too long for Rhodey to decipher. What?

He tries again. No difference, except Rhodey thinks he sees the word 'spider'. He shakes his head.

Tony huffs and starts over. Rhodey grabs his shoulders and shakes them. Slow down. Less words.

He rolls his eyes and starts moving his mouth in exaggerated slow motions.

Nope.

He wipes his hand over his face and tries again.

Not getting it.

“Oh, come on,” he hisses. “He’s a vigilante at night, a student during the day, and his metabolism matches, if not exceeds Rogers’!”

“Hey.” Peter cracks his eyes open and lifts his head off the wall, voice croaky and rough. “Are you guys talking about me?”

“Nah, some other super-kid,” Tony says.

Peter chuckles, and lets his head fall back. “Don’t let ‘em replace me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, would we, Rhodes?”

“Nope,” Rhodey says quickly. “Never.”

“Good,” Peter whispers, eyes drifting shut.

Tony glances at Rhodey, as if looking for an answer. He doesn’t have one, tries to convey that with a pointed look.

“You look kind of tired, bud,” Tony ventures, throwing up a confused hand in Rhodey’s direction. “You hungry?”

“No,” Peter mumbles. “M’good.”

“You, Peter Parker, are not hungry?”

“Nope.”

Tony’s face fades into something akin to horror. “You were right, Rhodey. He’s broken.”

“Oh my god. He’s not ‘broken’, you big drama queen.” Rhodey hits Tony lightly on the back of the head. “Just, go over there and do something.”

“Do something,” Tony repeats. “Helpful. What exactly should I do?”

“I don’t know? Feel his forehead?”

The state of horror increases. “I’m calling his aunt.”

Tony tries to dart past Rhodey, but he catches his arm on the way. “You can’t always call the aunt when things get tough!”

Tony yanks his arm away. “Why not!?”

Rhodey hesitates. “I mean, you can. Actually, you probably should—”

“Exactly!”

“But you also need to—” He moves his head in Peter’s direction. “You know.”

“I do not know!” Tony runs his hands through his hair, leaving it sticking up at all angles. It matches the wild glint of uncertainty in his eyes.

“Actually, Mr. Stark,” Peter says. “Do you mind if I sit down for a minute? Sorry.”

He sinks down the wall, hugging his legs to his chest and resting his forehead on his kneecaps.

“Oh—what? What's happening right now?" Tony walks over and hovers above the kid. “Did you get hit by anything on patrol last night?”

Peter’s head shakes ever so slightly.

“Tones, I think he’s just sick,” Rhodey says.

“He heals broken bones overnight, he doesn’t get sick.” Tony kneels next to him, gingerly placing a hand on his shoulder and then taking it right off. “Right?”

“Don’t get sick,” Peter agrees. “At least, I don’t think so. Haven’t since I got bit.”

“It's been less than two years, hasn’t it?”

Tony nods. Peter’s head gives a pathetic little lurch.

“This is probably just the first bug that’s gotten to him since it happened,” Rhodey says. “I think you’re just sick, Peter. What’s bothering you?”

The kid raises his head. He looks worse than he had when he’d been standing—beads of sweat on his hair-line dampening the strands into messy curls stuck to his skin.

“Not sick,” he says. “I just have a headache. It’s not that bad.”

Tony brings his hand up to Peter’s forehead with more confidence than he exhibited at the prospect a few minutes ago. A surge of pride goes through Rhodey—it’s simple, but it’s good. More proof that his best friend will be great at this eventually. “You feel hot, kiddo. At least by your standards. FRIDAY, check him over. Look for anything funky.”

The scan completes a few minutes later, coming back with nothing but a fever.

“Well,” Tony says after he reads the results aloud. “Working theory is that you are a little bit sick, Pete.”

Peter shakes his hanging head. “Not sick.”

Tony smiles. “Sure thing. Like I said, only a theory. We can always improve it later.”

That seems to mollify the kid. He nods a little and sighs, resting his head back on his knees.

“Why don’t we get you up to your room? Bed’s gotta be better than the floor. And a pillow’s gotta be a whole lot better than those bony knees.”

A grin tugs at Rhodey’s lips as he watches Tony help Peter to his feet. He follows them into the elevator and then down a few hallways.

He stays at the edge of the room, leaning on the door frame, content to watch. Tony walks with Peter over to the bed and waits there as he settles into it.

“Are you sure you don’t want any food? Water?” he asks.

Peter’s head shakes, barely visible to Rhodey over the sheets that are pulled up above his chin.

“Rest up, then. Get better soon. I’ve gotten used to having a lab assistant, so don’t ruin that for me.”

“I won’t. I’m not even sick!”

“Uh huh. Yup. Definitely. Go to sleep anyway.”

Tony shakes his head, fondly, and walks back out of the room past Rhodey.

“You’re good with him,” he says as he eases the door shut.

Tony twitches a little, a slight stutter in his stride, before he goes back to walking. “Well, I do try to be a decent human being occasionally.”

He’s pleased by the compliment, Rhodey can tell. But, he’s never been good at accepting that sort of thing. Sometimes it’s better to let it be, but others times, Rhodey likes to press it.

“I’m proud of you, man.”

“Alright. Weird, but alright.”

“I’m serious, look at you! Even got him the room. It looked nice.”

Tony stops in his tracks, spins around slowly, and then looks up at the ceiling and over at each wall. “What’s going on? Is this a prank?”

“This would be a pretty awful prank,” Rhodey points out. “Listen, I’m just saying that I know this can’t have been easy—finding out about the kid, making the decision to meet him, taking up an active role in his life. I’m impressed. You’ve changed a lot since college, Tones. For the better.”

“You lost me. I’m just teaching a high schooler some lab stuff, some superhero stuff. It’s not a big deal.”

Rhodey throws his hands up. “It is a big deal! He’s your son, that’s a big deal!”

Tony’s mouth falls open. He closes it as his eyebrows knit together, and then it drops open once again. “I don’t get it. You don’t sound like you’re joking.”

“Joking? I’m just trying to pay you a compliment, man. Take it so we can move on.”

Tony starts massaging his temples. “I’m sorry, you think Peter’s my biological son?”

“What? He—he is. He is your son.”

A grin rises slowly on Tony’s face and then he’s laughing, full body, doubled over, one of his arms strewn across his stomach as if he’s trying to contain it.

Rhodey crosses his arms over his chest. It’s not hard to infer why Tony’s laughing. It is hard to rationalize how he read the situation so horribly wrong. He runs through the last couple months, scrambling to put the memories in a new perspective. It's hard to separate anything about Tony and Peter from father and son.

“I don’t understand,” Rhodey says. “I called you a ‘Proud Dad’ a few weeks ago.”

“I thought it was a joke! The whole team jokes about Spider-Man being my kid.”

“But, I told Peter I knew everything!”

“He thought you meant his identity.”

Rhodey rubs his hands over his head. “I asked him why he calls you ‘Mr. Stark’”.

Tony frowns. “He didn’t mention that part.”

“I—you got him his own room! In your tower!”

“You told me to! Pepper thought it was weird when I told her how much you pressed about it—should I take away the room? Is it too much?”

“Take away the room—“ Rhodey mumbles. “No, dumbass. He’s sleeping in it right now."

“This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous.” Tony points at him. “Hilarious, but ridiculous.”

“It’s not just me! Those ‘jokes’ the team has been making—” Rhodey puts air quotes around the word and shakes his head. “Not jokes. Do you know how much work I’ve put in trying to get them to dial it down because I didn’t think you and Peter were ready for everyone to know?”

“They think—wait, Peter or Spider-Man?”

“Both? Mostly Spider-Man.”

“Oh my god.” Tony stares off to the side, as if he can’t quite comprehend the conversation. “Why?”

“Well it’s an easy mistake to make! You’re really protective—“

“Because he’s a child!” Tony interrupts.

“And the way he looks at you. It’s obvious, even through the mask. It’s like—“ Rhodey trails off, unsure if it’s what Tony wants to hear.

He narrows his eyes. “Like what?”

“I don’t know—“

“You clearly do. Just say it.”

“Like he looks up to you, man.” Rhodey shrugs. “Like you mean a lot to him.”

Tony’s silent for a moment, goes back to staring at the spot just to Rhodey’s right. He sniffs once and then wipes his hands on his jeans.

“Right. That’s—nice. A little sappy for my taste.” There is the smallest trace of a smile, but he sniffs again and it disappears. “Well I’m going to go call his aunt, then call Bruce and see if we can whip up some kind of painkiller for him. Do you mind hanging out by his room, in case he needs anything?”

Rhodey looks at him, deadpan. “You hear that, right? You hear what you sound like.”

“Shut up!” Tony calls without looking back.

Rhodey laughs and walks back down the hallway. As soon as he gets close to the the room, he starts to hear Peter’s voice from inside.

He pulls the door open a crack.

The mound of sheets shifts slightly on the bed. “Mr. Stark?”

“Nope,” Rhodey says. “It’s me.”

“Oh.” He doesn’t miss the disappointment in Peter’s voice. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Rhodey walks in until he can see some of Peter’s head sticking out from under the sheets—he’s curled up on his side, face tense and twisted in pain. “Anything I can get for you?”

“I don’t know.” He burrows a little deeper. “Do you think Mr. Stark is going to come back soon?”

“Yeah, he’s just trying to make something to help with the pain. And call your aunt. She’ll be here soon, too.”

“Good. I, uh, I can’t sleep. Everything hurts,” Peter confesses. “I think I might be sick.”

Rhodey sits on the edge of the bed, chuckling a little. “Oh, really?”

“Don’t tell Tony or May, okay?”

Rhodey perks up. “Your secret’s safe with me, Spidey. I’m cool, you can trust me.”

Peter blinks a few times. He meets Rhodey’s eyes and then nods. “You are pretty cool, Colonel Rhodes.”

Rhodey bites the insides of his cheeks to stop himself from smiling. He waits until Peter's eyes are closed before breaking into an all-out grin and pumping a fist.

Peter might not be Tony’s biological son, but Tony’s not Rhodey’s biological brother either. That's never stopped them before. He can still be Peter’s uncle. In fact, he thinks he might have just cinched the coveted cool uncle position he was trying to get.

#friendly neighborhood fic exchange #irondad #spideyson #tony stark #peter parker #fic #irondad fic #my stuff

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cherryblossomflowers · 4 years

Text

An Old Life Meets A New (Pt29)

Pairing: Jensen x Daughter, Danneel x Stepdaughter, Jared x Niece

Warnings: Slight Cussing, Angst, Fluff, Death Mentioned, Car Accident Mentioned, Anxiety/Depression, Arguing, Panic Attacks, Yelling, Fighting, Sex Mentioned, Child Abuse, Drunk Abuse, Relationship Abuse, Alcohol

Summary: After the recent death of her mother, Harper must adjust to her new life in the Ackles home, this includes a new stepmother, half-siblings, and reconnecting with her father.

A/N: Things are starting to end, but a happy ending is beginning. ONLY 1 CHAPTER LEFT!!! No hate on Danneel or Jensen please. Feedback is greatly appreciated!

***ASK OPEN***

*LET ME KNOW IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE TAGGED*

*NEW CHAPTER EVERYDAY AT 3PM CST*

An Old Life Meets A New Masterlist

Chapter 29

Jensen and Harper were currently on a flight back to Austin. Jensen was watching a movie the flight was streaming when he felt a weight hit his shoulder. He looked down with a smile seeing Harper fast asleep as she was leaning against him like a pillow.

She must've not slept much last night, thought Jensen.

Jensen shifted so Harper could get more comfortable. A flight attendant walked by and offered a blanket, but Jensen shook his head.

Harper slept the entire flight and Jensen sat as still as he could so she could rest.

When they were landing, Jensen moved his arm to wake her, "Harper? Honey, we're back."

Harper groaned, "5 more minutes."

This made Jensen laugh, "I don't think I can tell the plane to wait 5 minutes, babygirl."

Harper then sat up and rubbed her eyes, "We're already here?"

Jensen nodded, "Yeah, you slept the entire flight. I almost didn't want to wake you," he chuckled, "You still do that cute nose twitch thing when you sleep."

Harper blushed, "I do what?"

"When you're asleep, your nose twitches like a bunny nose. I noticed it when you were younger. I thought maybe you had grown out of it, but I guess not. It's cute."

"It's not cute!" Harper's face was more red than before.

Jensen held his hands up in defense, "You're right, it's not cute," then he whispered, "It's adorable."

Harper crossed her arms and looked out the window, embarrassed of her old sleeping habit. Jensen laid a hand on her shoulder and she turned to look at him.

"I won't tell anyone, you have my word," he said with a smile.

Harper smiled back, "It's okay. I was just messing around."

"Good to know your sense of humor is still there too," Jensen said then kissed her temple.

"Well I'd hope so. I got it from you. Must be why my brain is always in the gutter," Harper shrugged.

Jensen shook his head, "No, you learned that from Jared. Dirty minded giant."

The plane hit the runway and pulled up to the terminal. One by one, people stood from their spots and started to exit the plane. Harper curled into herself and Jensen noticed.

I guess she still has a fear of crowds, he thought.

He wrapped an arm around her, "Why don't we wait until the rest of the passengers get off first? We don't have anywhere to be in a hurry."

Harper nodded and smiled, "Thanks, Dad."

They sat there for a few minutes until the crowd of passengers got off the flight. Then Jensen stood up and helped Harper out of her seat. They grabbed their bags and walked off the plane. They walked out of the gate and down to the entrance of the airport. Once they stepped outside, Jensen pointed to where his truck was and told Harper to follow him.

They got into the truck, Jensen pulled out of the parking lot, and they headed towards home.

On the way, Jensen tried to spark up a conversation, "You know, sooner or later, I'm going to have to teach you how to drive."

Harper laughed, "Good luck. I pretty much gave up the idea after I saw how people drive in New York."

"Well, I hate to tell you, but that's most people in the world no matter where you go. You just have to get behind the wheel and go for it."

Harper looked out the window and smiled, "Let's save that then for another day."

"Deal," Jensen said as he reached for the radio.

When he turned up the volume, Tennessee Whiskey happen to be playing. Jensen looked over and caught Harper's eye. He smiled and turned up the volume more.

It was a moment that seemed frozen in time. A father and daughter driving down a highway, listening to good music with the windows down as the sun began to set off in the distance.

Jensen looked over and saw Harper belting out the chorus and in that moment, after all the chaos they've gone through for the past few days, she looked truly at peace and happy.

When Harper got a glance of Jensen, she smiled, "What are you staring at, Dad?"

Jensen shook his head and kept his eyes on the road, "Nothing. Just my babygirl."

Harper smiled and blushed, "I really did miss you calling me that, you know."

"I'm not going to lie, the first time I said it to your face earlier, it felt like you were 8-years-old again," Jensen chuckled, "Except you grew like 10 feet."

"I'm not that tall, I'm only 5'9". That's average for girls my age," Harper replied.

"Still, you grew like a weed," Jensen laughed.

The drove for a few more miles, and before they knew it they were back at the house. Jensen opened his door to get out, but stopped when he saw that Harper hadn't even moved an inch.

Jensen climbed back inside the truck and shut the door before turning to Harper, "What's wrong?"

Harper looked out the passenger window, "They're mad aren't they?"

"Who’s mad?"

"Danneel. And Uncle Jared. And Aunt Gen," she answered.

Jensen sighed, "Harper, they're not mad. They were worried and concerned. But I called Danneel remember? She's just happy we came back today. And I know Jared, he doesn't get mad at things like this. He's very understanding."

Harper slumped and continued to look out the window.

Jensen laid an arm on her shoulder, "Uncle Jared and Aunt Gen are inside though, and I know they'd love to see that you're okay."

Harper turned to Jensen, "Can I just go straight to my room? Just tell them you grounded me or something."

Jensen shook his head with a smirk, "No, Harper. You need to face this. You can do it. And I'm right there with you. Just explain what happened. I have your back."

She smiled at him, "Thanks, Dad."

They both got out of the truck and Jensen grabbed their bags from the bed of the truck. He had his duffle in one hand, Harper's backpack around his shoulder, and his other arm around her back, ushering her forward.

They got up to the front door, and Jensen opened it wide. Harper walked in first as Jensen held the door for her. He walked in behind and shut the door behind them.

Harper looked up and saw Jared, Gen, and Danneel sitting on the couch. Danneel jumped up and ran over to Harper and Jensen.

"Thank goodness you two are okay," Danneel said as she hugged and kissed Jensen.

"We're all good, Dee," Jensen said as he chuckled.

Jared and Gen stood up and walked over to them as well. They stayed quiet, but they were happy to see Harper and Jensen back from New York.

Jensen bent down and spoke quietly to Harper, "Babygirl, is there anything you want to say to Danneel?"

Harper nodded and took a step forward to meet Danneel, "Dee, I'm really sorry I ran away. It was really stupid of me. I should've just talked with you and Dad. And I'm even more sorry I took money from your purse. I don't care what it takes, I promise I'll pay you back every-"

Harper was cut off when Danneel wrapped her arms around her. Harper was stunned for a moment, confused as to why Danneel just jumped forward to hug her.

Danneel squeezed her gently as she started to cry, "Harper, sweetheart, I don't care about the money. I'm just glad you're safe. I was so worried about you."

"I didn't mean to worry you," Harper replied, "There was something I had to do," she turned to look at Jensen, "But now that I've done it, I feel like I can move on."

Danneel held her at arms length, "I'm glad, sweetheart."

Harper walked past Danneel and to Jared, "Uncle Jared?

Jared bent down to Harper, "Yeah, kiddo?"

Harper hugged him around his neck, "Thank you."

Jared hugged her back, but was very confused, "You're welcome, Harper. But I don't exactly know what I did."

"If you hadn't talked to Dad, he and I wouldn't be as close as we are now. And like I said, you were there when he wasn't. I needed you back then and I need you just as much now," she turned to Genevieve, "And I need Aunt Gen just as much."

Gen smiled, “I’m glad we’re here to help, Harper.”

“Oh and Jared?”

“Yes?” he asked.

“Is there any way you could help me find a therapist? Just someone to talk to about everything,” Harper replied.

“I’m sure we can find someone,” Jared smiled at her.

Just then, JJ, Arrow, and Zeppelin all ran into the room. They ran up to Jensen first and hugged him.

Harper laughed as she turned to the kids, "What? Your sister doesn't get a hug?"

JJ turned around and ran over to Harper, tackling her to the ground. Arrow and Zeppelin ran over and hugged her while JJ held her down.

"Sissy is back!" JJ yelled.

Harper laughed, "Yes, JJ, Sissy is back."

The kids and Harper stayed like that for a while. The adults went to the back porch to sit and chat for a bit. Jensen didn't tell them everything, but he told them about why Harper went to New York.

Jared and Gen went home after a couple hours. Jensen ordered pizza for dinner and Harper suggested a movie night.

And now, the famous final scene was set. Jensen on one end of the couch with Danneel snuggled up to him, Harper on the other end with JJ cuddled up with her, and the twins in the middle all watching a Scooby Doo movie with empty pizza boxes on the coffee table.

Jensen looked over at Harper and smiled. She and JJ were really into the movie, sitting close together and wide eyed. Jensen loved this moment and wished he could hold on to it forever.

A little while later, after JJ and the twins were in bed and Danneel had kissed Jensen goodnight, Jensen made his way to Harper's bedroom.

When he was outside the door, he knocked lightly and cracked the door open, "Harper? Can I come in for a second?"

He received a sleepy reply, "Sure, Dad."

Jensen walked inside and over to Harper's bed. He sat down on the edge and watched as Harper untangled the sheet from her legs.

"What's up?" she asked.

Jensen shrugged, "Just wanted to come check on you."

Harper laughed, "Come to make sure I didn't sneak out?"

Jensen rolled his eyes, "Exactly," he let out a breath, "Harper, I just want you to know something."

Harper laid a hand on his arm, "Dad, with all due respect, I think you and I have had enough of the past today."

He shook his head, "No, not like that," he turned to look at her, "Harper, I am so proud of you. Of who you've become. You're such a strong, independent young woman. You've grown up so much in the last few years. Hell, in the last few days. And you've showed me what it means to be a father. I honestly didn't know if I would ever be a good one, especially when your mom had you. Now I look at you and I see that not only you coming into this world made me a father, but you being in my life makes me a father."

Harper stood on her knees and hugged Jensen, "And you're the best father in the entire world."

Jensen scoffed, "Yeah, right."

"No, I mean it. You really are. You've done everything possible in the last few days to try to make your house my home. You let me do what I want to my bedroom, you remember little things after all these years. I mean, jeez Dad, you came to New York to make sure I was okay. I'd give that the Best Dad of the Year award," Harper said hugging Jensen tighter.

Jensen hugged her back, "I love you, babygirl."

"I love you too, Dad," she kissed his cheek.

Jensen stood from the bed and started walking towards the door, "I should let you get some sleep."

Harper pulled back the covers, "I mean...you could just stay with me tonight."

"Are you asking me to stay with you, Harper?"

She pouted and opened her big brown eyes, "Please?"

Jensen rolled his eyes and walked over to the other side of the bed, "For the record, the puppy eyes does nothing."

"That's not what Uncle Jared told me."

Jensen got under the covers as Harper settled on to her side. Jensen kissed her forehead and brushed her hair back. He rolled over and closed his eyes.

"Dad?"

"Yeah, Harper?"

"If it's okay with you," she paused to yawn, "I want to change my last name to Ackles."

Jensen smiled as fresh tears bubbled up in his eyes, "I like that idea, Harper Ackles."

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

Masterlist

My Cherry Blossoms

@mlovesstories @adorable-minibot @chessurkait

@desiredposion @idksupernatural @thevelvetseries @let-me-luve-you

@obsessedwithfandomsx @mangueweaschester @starchildwild @deans-baby-momma @spnbaby-67 @unicornmadness2444

@wecantgiggleitsafandom @spnfamily-j2 @emery--nicole--morrison

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