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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

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Fight Club

Character: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary: Everyone will say Jason Todd is protective of the people he loves. But sometimes independence is more important than protecting.

Word Count: 4,000 [One Shot]

Warnings: harassment, stalking, general daily discomfort that women have to deal with

Y/N was so fucking tired.

It was a miracle that she hadn’t fallen asleep on the bus home from work.

But anyone with half a brain knew that doing so in Gotham was basically asking to get robbed or worse.

Never fall asleep on public transit. Only buy purses and wallets that zip close. Never leave any personal belongings alone in public. Never use an ATM at night. Only take well-traveled and well-lit routes. Always be aware of your surroundings.

These were the unwritten rules of living in Gotham. It was how you stayed safe, how you stayed alive. But even when one followed them strictly, that didn’t insure that they would always be safe.

Which is why Y/N noticed a middle-aged man staring her down on the bus. He knew what he was doing. He knew that he was making her uncomfortable. He was clearly getting off on it.

Y/N just blasted the music in her headphones and pretended not to notice. But she could feel his leering and it made her stomach twist into knots.

She looked down at her watch: 6PM.

Y/N knew she could call Jason. She knew this.

It would take her all of 30 seconds to explain the situation, Jason would instantly understand and then be waiting at her bus stop for her, ready to escort her home safely and glare at whoever had made her uncomfortable.

But Jason was probably sleeping still.

Last night, he’d returned from patrol needing stitches and had so many bruises scattered across his face that Y/N kept messing up her counting. She was also suspicious that his right hand was broken, but Jason brushed if off so smoothly that she let it slide.

The point was that Y/N had managed to force pain meds on her boyfriend. Jason always slept until late afternoon after patrols anyways, basically becoming nocturnal since he often wouldn’t get back until 5AM.

The meds were meant to make him sleep all day and force him to recover.

The stubborn part of Y/N didn’t want to prevent Jason from getting his much needed recovery and rest.

Except this guy didn’t plan on just staring at her.

When he saw that she was getting off at the stop that was just announced, he too stood up from his seat and moved to the other exit that she wasn’t using.

Y/N was aware of all of this, making sure to track him subtly through the corner of her gaze. It was from the conditioning that all women unfortunately had to go through, whether they realized or not.

Without turning around, she caught his reflection in the window of a building she walked past. He kept a distance to remain unsuspicious, but it was obvious that he was following her.

Y/N tried to subtly walk faster. But she also realized she couldn’t go straight home now. Even with Red Hood being her live-in boyfriend, there was no way she was letting this creep know where she lived.

She started taking a strange route, making weird turns. But it was hard not to lose him without fully running, which she didn’t want to do until it felt absolutely necessary.

But then she came upon a coffeeshop that she knew had a front and back entrance.

She quickly went inside and pretended to get in line for coffee. But when she looked for the man in the corner of her eye, he wasn’t going to come in. Instead, he decided to linger outside and wait for her to come out.

Y/N subtly left the line and made for the back exit.

‘Now it’s time to run,’ she thought to herself.

Y/N was grateful that she had decided to wear stylish sneakers today instead of heels.

By the time she reached the steps of her apartment building, she was breathing heavily. She had been looking over her shoulder every few feet to make sure the creep didn’t get smart.

When she reached her door, she made sure to be quiet in case Jason was still sleeping. Then when she reached the bedroom and quietly opened the door, her mountain of a boyfriend was still passed out in bed with his face pressed into her pillow.

Y/N decided to get started on dinner and quietly moved about the kitchen.

But no matter how much she tried to concentrate on her cooking, her mind kept returning to the man who had tried to follow her home.

What would he have done if he found out where she lived?

Did he plan on grabbing her before she got there?

Did he just get off on making women scared?

Was he planning on raping her? Abducting her? Killing her?

The more Y/N thought about it, the more her fear shifted into rage. Why was it so much more unsafe for women to just merely exist in the world?

But she had no intention of telling Jason.

He would be furious. Not at her, at a man who thought it was OK to even make his girlfriend feel uncomfortable and unsafe – let alone any woman. He would go on a hunt for him and teach him a lesson.

Jason Todd was protective of the people he loved and the innocent – of which Y/N was both. But he also had a bad temper. And whoever was the reason for it starting up better run for their life because Red Hood was not a merciful man and his morals were unpredictable.

So, no. Y/N was not planning on telling her boyfriend, who was also secretly a vigilante with rage issues, about the man who ogled her on public transit and tried to follow her home.

But Y/N was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t hear said boyfriend finally wake up.

Next thing she knew, someone was slowly wrapping their arms around her waist.

Y/N jumped.

Obviously it was Jason. She knew that. This was not uncommon behavior for him.

But after the day she had and being lost in her thoughts, the feeling of someone’s touch scared the life out of her.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jason immediately muttered in a whisper at her reaction. “It’s just me.”

Y/N turned around in hopes of easing any worry before he asked any questions.

“Sorry,” she gasped. “I didn’t hear you wake up.”

But Jason narrowed his gaze at the crazed look in her eyes. He could somehow feel her heart racing as he gripped her torso, and traced lines up and down her rib cage with his thumbs in an attempt to soothe her.

“What happened?” He asked as he brushed some hair out of her face.

“Nothing. I’m fine. I was just in my head and zoning out, so you scared me.”

Jason was basically a human lie detector. So he raised an eyebrow at her attempt.

“Y/N,” he warned.

She sighed and shook her head. “Promise you’ll just listen? That you won’t freak out?”

Now Jason was even more worried. “Y/N, what happened?”

She sighed again, knowing it was pointless to ask him not to freak out when it came to her. Now all she could hope for is that she’d be able to calm him down.

Y/N explained what happened to Jason: the bus, the following, the running to make sure a threatening stranger didn’t follow her home.

She could see Jason’s body getting more and more tense, and his expression angrier and angrier. His hands clenched into fits. His posture straightened with purpose.

“Did he grab you? Did he touch you?” Jason asked as soon as he was sure she was done with her whole story.

“No, but…” her words died out.

“He didn’t have to for you to feel violate,” Jason offered her.

Y/N nodded and hung her head.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Jason asked softly.

“I…I don’t know. I wanted to you to rest.” Then Y/N really thought about it. “And despite his intentions being very clear…there was still a voice in my head telling me not to overreact, that there was a small chance I was being paranoid.”

“Y/N, even if you had been wrong, I would’ve rather you felt safe than worry about being wrong. I wouldn’t have been mad at you, or even annoyed.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Y/N.” Jason sighed and pulled her into his arms. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just love you and want you to be safe.”

She nodded into his shoulder.

———

For the next week, Jason was waiting for Y/N every day after work at her bus stop to walk her home. She didn’t ask him to or even suggest it. But Jason knew she was still shaken after the incident. And the last thing he wanted was his girlfriend living in fear.

On the eighth day of him doing this, Y/N finally spoke up.

“Jason, ya know, you can’t do this forever…”

“I know,” he smirked.

“Why are you smiling?”

“How would you feel about me teaching you some self defense?”

Y/N stopped walking and turned to face him. “Are you messing with me?”

“Nope.”

———

The next weekend, Y/N found herself in the bat cave with her boyfriend, both of them in workout clothes.

“First things first, you have to gain your strength. I can teach you all the moves I want, but you have to make sure your body is in the right condition to defend yourself. And I don’t mean just physically. Confidence is key, beautiful.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at the last part, but still smiled.

“Did we have to have an audience?” She asked as she looked over to see that Tim was on the computer, and Dick and Barbara were working out together.

“Ignore them.”

The next couple of hours, Jason taught Y/N all of the basics of self defense. Especially the tips that benefitted women.

Eye strike. Knee to the groin. Heel-palm attack. Elbow hit. How to escape from a bear-hug attack. How to free herself from a choke hold. How to get out of a headlock.

Y/N was covered with sweat. Meanwhile, Jason looked as put together as he had when they started.

“OK,” she finally said with hands on her hips as she tried to catch her breath. “But if someone that’s the same size as me tried to attack me, I don’t have a chance.”

Jason tilted his head to the side. “And who said that?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “J, come on. Look at you! Do you really think I would be able to get away – no matter how hard I tried?”

She looked her boyfriend up and down. He was built like a tank, standing at 6’3 and with an almost inhuman width. Just his thighs seemed bigger than her torso.

While Y/N loved cuddly with her giant teddy bear of a boyfriend, she had mercy for anyone that decided to pick a fight with Jason Todd or Red Hood. They didn’t stand a chance.

“Size isn’t everything,” Jason told her with a wink.

She rolled her eyes again.

“Dick! Barbara! Can you come here for a sec?”

“What’s up?” Dick asked with Barbara by his side.

“Y/N thinks that she’d never be able to take on someone bigger than her,” Jason shared with them.

Barbara didn’t even bother trying to hide her laughter.

Dick smirked. “It’ll take a lot of training, Y/N. But don’t worry, I’ll teach you how to kick Jason’s ass. Until then, let us know if he’s giving you any trouble and we’ll handle him for you.”

Jason glared at his older brother, but chose not to give his usual sarcastic retorts. He turned his attention back to Y/N instead. “Dicky here is 5’10 and about 175. Meanwhile, Babs is 5’6 and can’t weigh more than 120.”

Barbara crossed her arms. “Didn’t you ever learn that it’s not polite to comment on a woman’s weight?”

Jason gave her an apologetic look but he knew she wasn’t actually offended. “The point is that I’ve seen Barbara hand Dick his ass more times than I can count. Not to mention guys twice her size.”

Then he looked at the couple and gestured to the sparring mat. “Would you be so kind?”

Dick didn’t seem to have any issue with facing off with his girlfriend.

Meanwhile, Barbara looked excited.

As the two of them began sparring, Jason lowered his voice down to Y/N and pointed out Barbara’s strategies and moves. Then he would explain how she was manipulating her smaller frame and turning it into an advantage.

Next thing Y/N knew, Barbara had Dick on the floor.

Dick was beaming up at his girlfriend with nothing but pride and awe.

“See?” Jason muttered quietly in Y/N’s ear.

Barbara laughed and held a hand to help Dick up. He jumped back onto his feet and gave his girlfriend a kiss.

“What’s going on?” A voice said at the bottom of the stairs.

They all turned to see Damian had entered the Bat Cave.

“Teaching Y/N some self defense,” Jason shrugged.

Damian sighed. “I do not understand why society does not train women to defend themselves – especially when they are not protected from evil men.”

Y/N laughed. “Not everyone was raised by a league of assassins, Damian.”

But then Damian’s words hit her again in a different way. She spaced out for a moment.

Jason looked at her with concern. “You OK?”

She just nodded.

He wasn’t convinced, but let her be. “I think that’s enough training for today.”

Jason’s brothers convinced him and Y/N to stay for a family movie night.

They used Jason’s old room to shower, since Y/N was covered in sweat by the end of her self defense lesson. Jason gave her some of his old clothes for her to wear that he’d left behind.

When they got to the theatre room, Jason could tell how exhausted Y/N was. She was going to be sore tomorrow – probably for a few days, actually.

She curled into Jason as they grabbed one of the love seats. In moments like these, Jason was always amused how she seemed more like his pet cat than his girlfriend.

Dick and Barbara cuddled together, as well.

Damian brought a book, pretended to already be bored, and acted like he was forced to join family movie night.

Tim brought in his laptop so he could continue to work.

Alfred brought them snacks every so often.

Even Bruce came in halfway through the movie, making his entrance so subtle that they almost didn’t notice.

But lo and behold, not even 15 minutes into the movie, Y/N had passed out.

Jason ended up having to carry her to his car after the movie – not that he minded in the slightest – and drive home as smoothly as possible, so he didn’t wake her.

———

A few days later, Y/N found Jason reading while lounging on the couch in the living room of their shared apartment.

She hopped on beside him, laying across his chest and sliding underneath his book.

Jason chuckled at her antics and put his book down, realizing she wanted his full attention and not just to snuggle while he continued to read.

“So, I was thinking…” Y/N began.

“Mhmm,” Jason hummed.

“I’m not the only woman in Gotham who’s been harassed. You of all people know that – probably better than I do.”

Jason’s amusement disappeared as he listened to where she was going.

“Did you know that in most big cities, there are almost always more women than men?”

“I did not.”

Then she sat up straight, but remained close to him. “But Gotham is the only major American city where there are 20% more men than women.” She waited for him to interrupt, but he just continued to pay close attention. “Researchers believe it’s because of the high crime rate in Gotham, and therefore it’s even more unsafe for women to live here than men.”

“Makes sense,” Jason agreed. “Why are you telling me this?”

“When you started giving me self-defense lessons and then Damian made the comment about no one training women, I kept thinking how other women don’t have a family of vigilantes to keep them safe or teach them how to defend themselves.”

“I’ve seen enough of this city to know that you’re right,” Jason commented darkly.

“Exactly.”

“You still haven’t explained why we’re talking about this…”

“Right,” Y/N smiled embarrassingly. “What if we – I don’t know – started a center for women to learn what you taught me. Completely pro bono. Like a…”

“Fight Club?” Jason offered with a smirk.

“Well, not exactly. But kinda,” Y/N giggled.

Then she frowned as her mind was still working all of it out. “I just don’t know who could teach it. You and your family are already too busy. Teaching women how to defend themselves is a little beneath you…”

“First of all, it’s not beneath us. But you’re right: Dick barely has a second to spend with Babs. Tim is so sleep deprived that he’s just gonna collapse one day. It also wouldn’t be smart for our cover and show that all the Wayne kids can hold themselves in a fight. People might start putting things together...”

“Right,” Y/N agreed and looked further disappointed.

“Hey,” Jason said with an encouraging smile and lifted her chin to look at him. “It’s a good idea. And between my brothers and me, we know plenty of retired heroes that would be more than willing to help out.”

Y/N’s eyes brightened. “Really?”

He nodded. “Dinah, Roy, Wally and Artemis. Hell, I bet if Bruce mentioned it to Diana, she’d smuggle in some Amazons to really show ‘em.”

Y/N smiled at the idea.

“You should tell Bruce,” Jason added.

“Bruce?”

“He has a habit of blindly writing checks for a good cause. I bet he’d just straight up buy you a warehouse to hold classes in.”

She frowned. “I don’t – won’t he feel like I’m taking advantage of him?”

Jason laughed. “I know he’s shit at showing it, but Bruce likes you. And I think he’d be more than happy to help.”

Y/N’s eyes glazed over. “Bruce Wayne likes me?”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t let it get to your head…”

“So, you think this is a good idea?”

Jason couldn’t help himself when she looked this adorable and excited. He grabbed her torso and flipped them so her back was on the couch and he was now hovering above her.

“I think it’s a great idea,” he told her softly before kissing her.

But before Y/N could push the intimacy any further, Jason pulled away from her lips.

“I have to tell you something,” his voice suddenly went serious.

Y/N’s smile dropped. “What? What is it?”

“I know you didn’t want me to…”

Then she sat up, lightly pushing Jason off of her. “Christ, Jason. What did you do?”

He took in a quick breath. “I found him.”

“Found who?”

“The guy who followed you.”

“Fuck,” Y/N put her hands over her face. “Jason. God. What the fuck.” “I know! I know. I should’ve told you sooner.”

Y/N rubbed her face and looked at him. “Please, please tell you didn’t kill him.”

Jason had the audacity to roll his eyes. “I didn’t kill him, OK? Happy?”

“No, I’m not happy! You went after him when I explicitly asked you not to!”

“Did you forget that the guy you’re dating is also a vigilante? In what world did you expect me to not look him up?” He shook his head in wonder. “I mean, the idiot’s face was all over the public transit database I hacked when I looked up the footage from the cameras on your bus – not to mention the footage from half the storefronts you walked by.”

Y/N only glared at him.

“Don’t be mad,” he requested.

“Well, I am.”

Jason sighed. Then he scooted closer, hoping she’d allow it. “Look, I get what’s going on. And I get why you want to help all these women.”

She eyed him, but let him continue.

“I’m sure it’s hard to believe, but I know what it’s like to feel like you can’t protect yourself.” He cleared his throat, catching himself. “I know it’s not the same as what women have to deal with on a daily basis. I’ll never really know what that’s like.”

Jason kept all the terrible things he’d seen on patrol to himself. But there were things he knew would terrify and traumatize her. Because of this, Jason wasn’t as oblivious to the suffering of women as the majority of men were. Or maybe he just chose to actually acknowledge it and care.

He took in a deep breath. “But I just hated the idea of someone doing that to you. And I know there’s probably a million times its happened and you haven’t told me, or you didn’t even notice because you’ve gotten so used to it. I just…I couldn’t let him get away with it.”

Jason paused to let her process his excuse. He’d be the first to admit it wasn’t a good one.

But Jason Todd was fiercely protective of the people he loved. And Red Hood’s sole purpose was to protect the those who couldn’t protect themselves – no matter the cost.

So when his girlfriend was troubled enough to lose sleep or zoned out constantly to rehash what happened, he was going to do something about it.

Jason was fully aware of his anger issues. But he also learned how to redirect them to be something a bit more productive.

“So…what did you do to him?” Y/N asked nervously.

He gave her a look, silently asking her if she really wanted to know.

“Jason…” she warned him.

“He had a record, OK? Let’s just say you weren’t the first woman he’s done that to. And a lot of them weren’t as lucky as you. So he got what he fucking deserved.”

“And what is that?” She pushed, refusing to let him gloss over it so easily.

Jason rolled his eyes. “I roughed him up a bit, alright? Told him I’d be watching. Scared the shit out of him enough that, hopefully, he won’t ever pull that shit again.”

Y/N let out a laugh and shook her head at him.

Jason would take her amusement over her anger any day, even if she was teasing him.

“What?” He asked through a grin.

She bopped his nose. “So protective over me.”

Jason had enough of the distance between them.

He moved her body so she had no choice but to sit on his lap. “‘Course I am.”

Then he kissed her. But when he pulled away, his face was rather thoughtful.

“You’re not going to feel helpless forever, ya know.”

They were words to comfort her. Because deep down Jason knew that promising to always be there for her wasn’t going to make her feel better. She wanted him as her boyfriend, not her bodyguard – despite Jason being more than happy to be both for her.

“I know,” Y/N confirmed with a shy smile.

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

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#jason todd x reader #jason todd reader insert #batfam #batboys #batman family #dick grayson #barbara gordon #damian wayne #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood reader insert #jason todd fic #dc #tim drake #red hood fic

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my-emotional-self · 3 years

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Toxic Love Chapter 5

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Finding out your soulmates were Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes was one thing. But when someone from your past comes back to haunt you, you have to figure out if a relationship with two super soldiers is something you really want to pursue or if you’d rather go back to your comfortable single life.

Series Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, past mentions of rape, self-harm, attempted rape, domestic violence, stalking, death threats, possible Dark!Steve?, Steve will be an asshole a LOT in this series but I don’t know how dark it will get, explicit sexual content, mental health issues, kind of A/B/O dynamics but not really (no they are not actual wolves, more like the hierarchy), mentions of suicide, flashbacks to suicide.

A/N: There will be no taglist for this story! I apologize in advance!

Two long weeks it had been since you last saw Steve and Bucky. They had to leave on a mission but they checked in with you regularly through texts. It was rather cute that they were checking in on you and you liked that they were protective of you.

But also during those two weeks, you had gotten another five notes either taped to your door or shoved under your door. Each note had gotten worse and worse. At first when you started getting the notes, you knew you didn’t have anything to worry about. You had called the prison and they informed you that yes, John was still locked up and hadn’t gotten out. And you kept doing that with each note, just to make sure for your safety. You also knew his friends wouldn’t harm you. No, that would only throw John over the edge and he would probably murder any of his friends who put their hands on you in any way. Possessive asshole. He was possessive in a way that was deranged. Steve and Bucky were possessive in a more protective way. In a way you felt safe.

But these five current notes you got started to make you feel on edge. You had debated with yourself for quite some time if you should come clean to Steve and Bucky about it. Yet you decided not to. They were too busy on their mission and you didn’t want them distracted. Instead, you put the notes in your little box and tried not to think about it. In a few short hours, you would be moved in to the Avengers Tower and you wouldn’t have any more issues.

Another thing was nagging at you and it was the fact that you had become much more irritable over the last few days. You hoped, no you fucking prayed, it wasn’t your medication that needed a dose increase so instead you chalked it up to the stress of having to move.

The following day Steve and Bucky surprised you at your apartment to help you finish packing. They had even rented a moving truck to help move things quicker. Almost everything was already packed; you just had the drawers left in your bedroom and the furniture.

Steve opened up the top drawer of your dresser and you could hear the growl that left his lips. Turning around, you saw him take out a few of your toys. “What the fuck are these?” he demanded, brows furrowed as he threw them on your bed. Bucky heard the commotion and came into the bedroom, eyeing you, Steve and the handful of toys on your bed. “I thought we agreed on a rule that you weren’t to touch yourself Y/N.”

“I-I know Steve. I was going to throw them out today. I wasn’t going to bring them along,” you replied softly.

“Have you used these in the last two weeks?”

Shit. You were caught. But to be fair, you thought the rules took place once you moved in. Letting out a sigh, you replied, “Ok, yes I did. But I thought the rules only went into place once I moved into the tower with you guys. I swear.”

Steve’s fists clenched as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. It was his ‘authority’ stance and if you were being completely honest, he looked damn hot.

“Fine. You get this one warning. No more pleasing yourself. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir,” you replied quickly, not realizing that the word ‘sir’ went straight to Steve’s groin. He turned his back on you and walked out of the bedroom while Bucky helped you pack up the rest of your stuff.

With both super soldiers helping you out, the moving truck was packed up in no time. You rode back to the tower with Steve and Bucky, beating the moving truck there. They wanted to show you both of your rooms before unpacking the truck.

The first room that they brought you to was the hobby room. Upon opening it, you cried on sight. It was perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect. The walls were white but there was LED lighting around the bottom of the walls making the room light up in pink. It was how you dreamed of your game room. Not only that, but Tony had upgraded all of your equipment and there on a brand new desk was two brand new large monitors, bigger than you could have ever imagined. White shelves ran along the opposite wall of your computer and they were completely spare; waiting for your knickknacks.

“I’m speechless,” you breathed, your hand coming up to clasp over your mouth. You never wanted to leave this room. How you were only supposed to work two nights a week now was beyond you. You would have to find a way around that.

Both Bucky and Steve took one of your hands in theirs and they brought you up to their apartment. Correction. Your apartment as well. Your heart was pounding in your chest as the elevator door opened and they led you down the hallway. They stopped in front of your door and let your hands go.

“We are going to let you go ahead and explore your new place on your own. We will be in here soon. The scanner on the door opens for us too, but it will only open for us under two conditions. One, if there is an emergency and F.R.I.D.A.Y will override the system to let us in. And two, if we ask to come in and your voice states that it’s ok, the door will automatically open for either one of us. We want you to know we value your privacy alright?”

You nodded at Steve, giving him a tight smile before he and Bucky walked back down the hallway and into the living room.

Taking one more deep breath, you placed your hand on the scanner and the door to your new apartment opened for you.

Again, you cried instantly as you took in your new apartment. The kitchen stayed the same, you had no qualms with how it looked. Instead of the original hardwood floor, there was a light gray carpet. You hated the hardwood floor. It was always so cold on your feet and now the carpet would keep your feet nice and toasty.

The living room was your dream living room. The walls were now a dark gray and there was a black three person couch along with two black chairs on either side; a black coffee table sat between the couch and the television hanging on the wall. It was dark, just the way you wanted it.

Sure, compared to your game room that was all bright colors, that was for a job and you had a different personality on camera. Something that the watchers wanted to see. Now, in the comfort of your own home, you could be yourself. You were drawn to the darkness, it was what made you feel safer. The brightness of other rooms always gave you a headache. Now, you had nice blackout curtains along the floor to ceiling windows that would keep the light out and if you did want to, you could easily open it up for some bright sunshine.

Walking along the rest of your apartment, you came about your bedroom. Inside there was a large king sized bed that lay atop a black four post iron bedframe. The best part of it was the black tule fabric that hung like curtains to each of the four bedposts. There were red satin sheets and a black comforter atop the bed, ready for you to lay down and relax. Screw your game room, you never wanted to leave this bed!

Standing in the middle of the bedroom, you closed your eyes and took it all in. Things were going to start changing and you were hoping for the better for once in your life. Things seemed content and you couldn’t wait to start your life here with Steve and Bucky.

Just then there was a knock on the door. “Who is it?” you asked as you made your way into the living room.

“It’s Steve. Can I come in?”

“Of course.”

The door opened up and Steve appeared before you. God he was a dream. Thick locks with a luscious beard. You couldn’t wait to kiss him.

“How do you like the new place?” he asked as he moved into the apartment.

“Steve,” you began to say, looking around at everything. “This is honestly so perfect. I couldn’t have asked for anything better. Thank you so much for making all of this possible.”

A tint of blush appeared on his cheeks. “It was nothing sweetheart. Honestly. We just want the best for you.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. Seeing the blush rise on his cheeks, you gave into your desire. You walked the few feet to him, placed your right hand behind his neck and pulled him down to meet your lips.

His lips were soft. So fucking soft against yours as his hands went to grip your waist. Your fingers dug into the hair at the nape of his neck, holding him close, not wanting to let go. His lips parted and you took the opportunity to nibble on his lower lip; his grip on your waist tightening and you reveled in the feeling. He was a good kisser. God he was good as his tongue brushed against your lower lip. You wanted to tease him at first, but you quickly threw that idea out the window as you just wanted to taste him. And taste him you did. Your tongues connected and it sent shockwaves straight to your core. It was the most amazing feeling in the world.

Steve broke away from the kiss all too quickly, much to your demise. You wanted to keep going, to keep tasting him, but it was going too fast, too quick.

“I don’t want to stop,” Steve’s breath fanned your face. “But if we don’t’ stop now, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop.”

You agreed with a quick nod, knowing damn well that you wouldn’t be able to stop either if things continued. The two of you worked together to unbox the rest of your belongings.

~~~

Later that night you were in your hobby room unpacking boxes; your mind on Steve and the passionate kiss the two of you shared. You were surprised how turned on you were just from the kiss alone and your hopes were high in regards to being intimate with both him and Bucky.

There was a knock on your door and by the time you looked, you saw Bucky opening the door.

“Hey Bucky,” you said with a smile.

“Is it alright if I come in?” he questioned.

Your smile became wider as you nodded. “Of course you can.”

Bucky began going through some of the boxes, taking out your funko pops and handing them to you as you put them up on your shelves. The two of you worked together quickly; box after box disappearing out of your room. Before you knew it, everything was unpacked.

You took a look around the room, happy with the way everything turned out. It was perfect and you couldn’t wait for your first night that you would be live streaming.

“Thank you for all of your help tonight Bucky. I really appreciate it,” you beamed.

Bucky was standing right in front of you and it was the first time you realized just how large he truly was. He was so close to you and his smell was impeccable. He smelt of the forest, of woods and pine and cinnamon and you wanted to taste every inch of him. Luckily for you, he had the same idea.

His hand cusped your cheek as he leaned down and connected your lips together. As cheesy at is sounded, it was as if fireworks were lit off the second your lips connected. His lips were just as soft as Steve’s and you craved every bit of him.

Gripping the hair at the nape of his neck, he teased your lower lip with his tongue and you opened hungrily for him. Your tongues tangled together and it was such a wondrous feeling, you didn’t want it to end. His metal arm snaked around your waist, pulling you close to him and you could feel his erection through his pants.

Your core grew wetter by the minute as you placed your right hand on his ass, wanting to feel all of him but just like Steve, he pulled away. The two of you were gasping for air; each other’s breath fanning your faces.

Bucky smirked at you, his eyes searching yours before he spoke. “Let’s go grab some dinner doll.”

As he pulled you out of your room, you couldn’t help but smile. First, because you finally kissed both of your soulmates and damn were they amazing kissers. And second, you were easily turned on by just their gentle kisses; no violet fantasies were running through your mind. Maybe, just maybe you would be able to have a normal sex life with them at one point. Right?

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #dark!steve rogers #dark! steve rogers

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whumpingcrow · 3 years

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Pt. 23 "Darling Boy Self Destructs"

CW: whump aftermath, PTSD/nightmares, conditioned whumpee, self harm (graphic), injury description, blood, whumpee refusing to eat, dehumanizing language/themes, discussion of past abuse/noncon, tourettes/ticcing, panic attack, past foster care mention, lots of angsty caretaker, cute little bandaging up fluff (let me know if i missed anything!)

Leo had to keep reminding Tyson that recovery wasn't linear, that sometimes it got worse before it got better. And most days it seemed to be getting far worse. Tyson was patient, for the most part, he understood that what Elias was working through was painful and confusing and it was going to take time to adjust. But there were some days that patience was spread too thin, and Tyson found himself breaking his own rules when he desperately needed a quick fix, bitterness lingering on his tongue for hours after he said the things he hated saying to Elias. He was in love with him, and it disgusted him to have to speak to him in the patronizing way that people often spoke to dogs. The way that August spoke to Elias. Quite a few times he had to call Allen or Leo over to help him when he couldn't handle it himself, and he felt guilty for not being able to help Elias on his own. It was stressful, but it worked, and usually the situation de-escalated before there was any harm done.

Usually. Today was an exception.

It was going to be a rough morning, Tyson could already tell when he woke up and Elias wasn't next to him, but rather asleep across the room, back pressed against the wall and all of his limbs tucked close to his body to protect himself. When did he get there, why didn't Tyson wake up when he left? With a huff, he stood from the bed and knelt in front of him, looking at him for a moment. In the rare moments that Elias was sleeping like this, Tyson just wanted Elias to sleep for as long as he could so he could watch him. He looked so at peace, his face serene and his body still.

It was getting late though, and Tyson figured it would be better to wake him easily now than to wait for a nightmare to do it. Apparently, he was wrong about that, because the second Tyson's hand brushed against his shoulder, Elias was bolting upright, eyes blown and panicked. Tyson didn't know he was only used to being woken up out of a peaceful sleep to receive punishment or to be used, but the horrified look on his face said enough.

"Elias, it's ok," he grumbled tiredly, wiping his eyes to try and wake himself up a little. "It's time to wake up, love."

Elias pulled his knees to his chest, looking up at Tyson like he had no idea who he was and was afraid to be near him. This was customary now, Elias always woke up disoriented and confused, no recognition on his face, only fear. It made Tyson sad, sure, but he had been getting used to it, and it only lasted a minute anyway. When the minute passed and Elias seemed to relax a fraction, Tyson allowed himself to stretch and yawn a little.

"Why were you sleeping on the floor?" He asked him, keeping his tone light and conversational, so Elias wouldn't feel like he was in trouble.

Elias was silent, so silent that Tyson glanced at his shoulders to see if he was breathing still. Finally, he cleared his throat a little, looking down at Tyson's hands. They weren't balled up into fists, weren't shaking in anger, weren't even reaching for him. He was safe.

"It's...the bed is too nice." He knew that was the wrong answer from the way Tyson closed his eyes and took a deep breath. But it was the truth! At some point in the night he woke up and realized it, and, through his tired haze, thought that it only made sense to go sleep on the floor like the animal he was.

Things like this had been happening a lot since he'd been home. Tyson didn't understand what caused it, but Elias would suddenly start acting the way he was forced to with August, no matter how many times Tyson told him that he was home and safe and he didn't have to do any of that here, he could be himself, not August's pet. Tyson was too upset at the thought to ever admit it out loud, but he was starting to think that Elias didn't know how to be himself anymore.

Tyson decided the argument wasn't worth it right then, Elias was too freaked out to understand and he was too tired to explain. "You wanna help me make breakfast?" He asked him. Elias seemed glad he wasn't going to pester him about being on the floor again, and he stood up and followed close behind Tyson to the kitchen.

It was alright again for a little bit, Elias was rather quiet and low energy, but he did everything he was asked to help with cooking, otherwise he stood poised, a few feet to the side of Tyson in case he needed him again. It was sort of bumming him out that Elias didn't realize that "help me cook breakfast" really meant "spend time with me in the kitchen, stand close to me, and make jokes and messes, like we used to do."

When Tyson looked over at him, his heart melted at the way Elias perked up to await instructions. His tired eyes were focused on him, he was leaning forward expectantly, clinging onto the words that Tyson hadn't even said yet. He smiled at him, setting down the spatula he was holding.

"Come here, Eli," he mumbled, holding his hand out toward him. Elias only shuffled forward a few steps, suddenly his posture was dragged down to what reminded Tyson of someone headed to execution. "You look so beautiful over there, I just want a hug."

Now, Elias smiled sheepishly at him, nodding to himself before walking into Tyson's arms. He pressed himself close, breathing in his scent as he hugged him.

When Tyson set breakfast on the table and instructed Elias to sit with him, things went downhill again. Elias did sit down, only because he was told to, but he couldn't force himself to touch the food in front of him. He tried to tell himself that Tyson would be upset with him again, like he was every time Elias couldn't convince himself that he deserved food, and that Tyson wanted him to eat, but each time he almost picked up his fork, he heard a nagging voice telling him that he wasn't deserving of the food in front of him, he wasn't a person, he hadn't been good enough to be rewarded with a warm meal.

"Baby," Tyson tried, his voice strained and on the very edge of irritation, "why haven't you eaten anything yet?"

Elias sat straighter, guilt turning his blood icy. "I...I'm sorry..."

"No." Tyson grumbled. Elias flinched at the firmness to his usual soft voice, then again when Tyson pushed his plate closer to him. "You have to eat, Elias. You've been home for days and I haven't seen you eat one time."

He really wasn't supposed to, this had to be some sort of test. But Tyson sounded more frustrated with him than he had been the whole time he'd been back, and he was pushing the food at him, maybe it was a test to see how well he could listen? He reached forward and picked up the fork with his shaking hand, stabbing a potato onto the end of it. It looked so good, he found his stomach aching against his ribcage as he looked at it. And he was so hungry, and it looked and smelled simply amazing.

Much too amazing for him. Giving food this good to him was wasteful, the equivalent to throwing it on the ground. August had told him that once, when he'd asked to have some expensive looking dish at one of the parties. He told him that, then told him that if he was really hungry to go do another line of coke so he didn't feel it anymore.

Tyson looked over when Elias's fork clattered back onto the glass plate, loud enough to almost cover the pitiful whimper he let out. The food was still untouched, apart from the single bite still on the fork that Elias never allowed past his lips. Tyson didn't want to be angry, he knew that this was hard for Elias, he could hear Leo telling him that this was just a small setback, but how could he not be frustrated? He wanted his Elias back, not this ghost who couldn't even have a meal with him. Why wasn't he willing to work towards that? To try, at the very least?

"Christ, Elias, come on." He groaned, dropping his fork as well. He didn't exactly feel hungry anymore, either.

"I-I am so...so so so sorry-" Elias began to choke out.

"I don't want you to be sorry!" Tyson snapped at him. Regret slammed into him immediately, he hated himself when Elias's hand flew to cover his mouth so that his strangled, terrified sob wouldn't be so loud, it made his chest ache with guilt. "Eli... I don't want you to be sorry. I just want you to get better."

Elias didn't seem to hear him, frozen in his seat with tears streaming down his cheeks and onto his fingers that were pressed tight to his lips to mute himself. He couldn't make himself look anywhere but the abandoned plate of food in front of him. He was sheet pale, like he was about to be sick from his fear. Tyson wanted to punch himself for making him that scared.

"Baby I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled, I'm sorry." He reached out and brushed his fingertips against Elias's shoulder blade, frowning when he nearly threw himself out of the chair to get away from the touch, stumbling away from him on wobbling legs. Tyson couldn't get a word in before Elias was shooting off down the hall, the sound of the bathroom door shutting and locking told him that Elias needed to be alone, at least for a moment.

That moment somehow stretched into half an hour. Tyson cleaned the kitchen, then realized Elias was still hidden away, and he went to check on him. All he heard when he knocked and asked if Elias was ok was a few mangled sobs and some sniffling. He didn't pry anymore, didn't want to set him off more than he had already. But then the half hour turned to a full hour, then two, and after nearly four hours of radio silence from Elias, Tyson was seriously losing hope. So he finally decided to swallow his pride and call Allen.

Another 25 minutes passed, and Allen finally showed up, surprisingly alone. He always came with Leo, and Tyson prayed that the two of them would be able to do this without him. Elias was still locked away in the bathroom, Tyson felt like he might vomit out of worry. He leaned against the wall across from the bathroom, watching Allen push himself close against the door before he tapped his knuckles gently against it.

"Elias?" He called out softly. "It's Allen. I brought you some cigarettes." There was no answer, just as Tyson was expecting, and they both deflated a bit. "Come on, pal, you've been in there a long time. Open up now."

Even though his voice was gentle and coaxing, there was no luck. Tyson rubbed the frustration out of his face, doing what he could to calm himself down before he kicked the door open. Allen looked back at him with a hopeless, worried frown, and it didn't ease Tyson's fears. He didn't want to scare Elias even more by breaking down the door, not when he was already so afraid, so he instead stood next to Allen against the door to try and lure him out.

"Elias I want you to open the door, baby," he pleaded, voice on the edge of breaking. "Open...open the door, sweetheart."

Allen turned to look at him, obviously surprised. Tyson never said that, usually if the ruined nickname had to be used, Allen was the only one who could do it, the only one who could handle seeing Elias slip easily into the conditioned pet of a person August made him. It must have been bad, he realized, if it was enough to make Tyson pull out that trick.

But it worked, just like always, a tiny click of the door unlocking telling them that he was allowing them entry, and they looked at each other in astonishment for a second, in disbelief that it was so simple. Four, almost five hours of begging and bargaining and all it took at the end was for one of them to call him sweetheart.

Before they could revel in the relief of being allowed in, they were hit with another, worse, bout of panic once the door was open. There was Elias, propped up only by the wall, his legs tucked under him so that he was on his knees. His whole body was pale and trembling horribly, he was only able to make out tiny, panicked gasps, wide eyes pouring tears as he looked between Allen and Tyson.

On top of it all, he had soaked himself, his clothes, and the area around him in blood, spilling out of several gashes up and down his arms. One of Tyson's razors was on the ground next to him, and he felt so fucking stupid for not hiding them after the last time Elias found one and used it.

Elias said nothing, looking up at Tyson with his horrified gaze, trying his best to even out his breathing. No matter how much effort he put into it, though, he could only inhale in short spurts, and exhaling seemed near impossible. There was so much blood, it was all over the place, what had he done? What had he done?! He began choking out broken sobs again, squeezing his eyes shut as Tyson moved toward him quickly.

The towels were slightly rough against his skin, and Tyson whispered out an apology when Elias grimaced a little. He slowly convinced himself to open his eyes, and he felt sick when he saw the pale blue hand towels stained a deep, velvety red from his blood. So instead he tipped his head up to look at Tyson, his eyes hooded and hazy, mouth slightly open through his unsteady breathing.

"Allen," Tyson said suddenly, "there's um...a first aid kit in the hall closet, could you grab it?" His voice was shaking slightly, even as he tried hard to keep his composure. He didn't look away from Elias as he spoke, and surprisingly Elias was able to hold his gaze, through the foggy cover of blood loss.

When Allen returned to the bathroom with the box of bandages, Elias felt so much worse. He watched Tyson's face fall into a disappointed, focused glare as he cleaned and bandaged him up. At some point, Allen asked if he should call an ambulance, and Tyson had to seriously consider the idea before looking up at him and shaking his head, telling him in a hushed voice “not yet, just give me a second.”

The amount of blood was misleading to how bad the injuries were, Tyson couldn't find any that might need actual medical attention. He wrapped the worst of the damage up in some gauze, and then gently pressed down bandaids on the smaller ones.

"Why did you do this, baby?" He asked Elias, looking back up at him to see the tears pooling in his dulled down blue eyes. He frowned at how broken he looked, how sad and hopeless his stare was.

"I wa-was being...being horrible. I made you upset. Had to be punished-" a weakened sob cut his sentence off, and Tyson sighed heavily with how pitiful he sounded.

"No, love. No, you're a good boy, Eli." This time it came off of his tongue surprisingly easy, probably because of the simple knowledge that Elias was covered in blood and it would make him feel better. He was right, Elias's eyes fluttered closed and he whined desperately in response. "You're so perfect, Elias. I'm so sorry I was short tempered with you." As he spoke, he reached up and gently wiped away some of the tears streaming down his pale cheeks, holding him close.

Elias must've lost a lot more blood than he'd thought, because the next second he was waking up on the couch, a heavy blanket draped over his shoulders and a slight throbbing behind his eyes. He was freezing cold, shivering, even, despite the blanket, and he found himself looking around for Tyson anxiously. When he finally found him, he reached out a trembling hand toward him to try and get his attention. He was sitting at the kitchen table, a few pieces of paper splayed out in front of him and his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Ty," he breathed, his voice weaker than he was expecting it to be, "can you please come here?"

"What is it, darling?" Tyson answered, already standing up and crossing the room to Elias. Once he was standing in front of him, Elias reached up and grabbed the bottom of his shirt.

"Cold..." He whined, his cheeks flushed beautifully from just waking up, much more healthy looking now that he wasn't bleeding on the ground.

"Do you want another blanket?"

Elias leaned closer to him, until he could rest his face against Tyson's stomach. "H-hold me, p..." He trailed off as Tysons hands snaked around his shoulders gently, then finished with a "please", just as sing-song and precious as always, so Tyson sat down with him.

He was gentle as he pulled Elias close to his chest. He placed kisses into his hair and stroked his arms over the blanket until he couldn't feel Elias shivering anymore, and then he simply held him. They were both quiet, simply enjoying being close to each other, wrapped up in the others arms. But it didn't last long before Elias was sucking in a pained breath and sitting up. He faced Tyson, sitting cross legged, lost in the huge blanket slung over his shoulders. He was only able to meet Tyson's gaze for a split second before he dropped his face down and instead focused on the only visible bandaid that was on his wrist.

"I'm sorry I made you mad," he mumbled, "and I'm sorry I hurt myself."

Tyson reached out to adjust the blanket for Elias, mostly so he could have an excuse to keep his hands on him without outright touching him, and sighed. "Eli, I need you to know that absolutely none of this is your fault."

"But-"

Tyson hushed him, tilting his face up so that they were finally looking at each other. "August is a monster. And I know he got into your head, I know he forced all of these awful ideas and fucked up rules on you, but that's not your fault. What he did to you was...it was evil, Elias. It was senseless, unprovoked evil."

He could tell that Elias didn't like what he was saying, that some broken version of him, the version that had to wear a collar and sometimes sleep on the floor and wasn't allowed to eat a hot meal, wanted to argue the allegations. There was a dense pause, and then Tyson was proved right, because Elias finally shook his head just a little, face twitching into a frown. "It wasn't unprovoked Ty, I deserved-"

"No, Eli. You have done absolutely nothing to deserve what he did to you. Do you understand me? You've done nothing wrong."

Elias's eyes were huge and tearful at the words, and Tyson grew worried that he'd spoken too harshly, that he'd said the wrong thing. His anxiety worsened when Elias began to actually cry, letting out weak, pathetic whimpers and allowing his tears to slide down his cheek and onto Tyson's hand that was holding his face.

"Shit, Eli, I didn't mean to upset-" before he could finish his sentence, Elias was tossing the blanket off of himself and throwing himself at Tyson. He wrapped his injured arms around his neck and pressed himself close, with more strength and vigor than he'd had since August got a hold of him.

Tyson didn’t know that no one had told Elias that in his entire life. In his early years he was made to feel like it was his fault he couldn’t sit still, it took him years to convince himself that it wasn’t. And he blamed himself for his parents handing him over to the state, abandoning him without a second thought, told himself every single day that he deserved to be left like that. No one ever corrected him. Really, August and all of his torture was just another thing to add to the list of things he felt deserving of, reprimand for some heinous act he didn’t know he had ever committed.

Tyson didn’t know how fucking relieving it was to hear those words, that it wasn’t his fault, that he didn’t do anything wrong, after an entire lifetime spent thinking that him simply existing was wrong.

"Thank you, Ty," he sniffled, his hands finding Tyson's hair and using it to try and hold him even closer, if that was possible. Tyson was overjoyed at how Elias didn't seem like he was panicking or in pain, and he was holding onto him so tightly, like he used to.

Of course, Tyson didn't hesitate to hug him back, reminding himself to be careful, that Elias was injured and sore. He ran his fingers through Elias's soft hair, down his back, then back up again. "What are you thanking me for?" He asked softly.

"You're perfect, Tyson. Thank you for saying all of that." Elias began to place soft kisses against Tyson's neck in between his tiny sniffles as his crying came to a slow stop. Then, he pulled away just enough to look at him, a small, wavering grin on his face despite the tears glistening in his eyes. "I love you."

Tyson smiled at him, tears suddenly in his own eyes as he said it right back. Elias ignored all the familiar doubt that usually came when anyone said that to him, because this time it was different. This time, he could feel that Tyson was telling the truth.

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jemmahazelnut · 3 years

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The worst idea

Summary: After an afternoon of intense sex in the storm, Freed discovers he's not the only one who has caught a fever. So, he goes to his boyfriend to take care -and make fun- of him. [Freed/Gajeel]

Link: AO3

Notes: It's nothing special but I hope you enjoyed it.

The worst idea

“Fuck” Freed swore panting on the grass. He was muddy, naked, the rain kept beating on him, the wind was blowing hard and he didn't give a damn. He was still lost in pleasure after having perhaps the most incredible sex of his life. He turned his head wearily to Gajeel and smiled to see him in the same condition. The boy was sweating, dirty and with rain-soaked hair. His torso was full of marks and scratches Freed had left, and his chest rose and fell with each heavy breath.

“Fuck it was great,” Gajeel said turning his face to Freed. He smiled blissfully and kissed him. They were both exhausted, so the kiss was sloppy and only lasted a few seconds. Also because now they were both starting to feel cold given the states they were in in the midst of the storm.

“I think we should go home before we get sick,” Freed said, forcing himself to sit up and Gajeel did the same. They looked at each other for a moment as thunder rumbled above them and the rain poured down. Neither of them bothered to get dressed, also because half of the clothes had ended up torn and the other half was lost in the storm.

Gajeel tilted his head to the side and grinned.

“This was the best idea I've ever had.” Freed had nothing to argue.

***

That had been the worst idea Gajeel had ever had. Freed knew this. He had known it from the moment the boy had proposed it. He had also said it: having sex in the middle of a storm was a crazy idea. A crazy idea that only that beast of his boyfriend could have. Yet Freed had accepted.

He had been an idiot, because Gajeel had instigated him on purpose by saying that a little-prince like him wouldn’t have taken the blow. Freed hadn't been able to help himself at that point. He knew it was a clear instigation and he knew he would regret it. At that moment, however, he had wanted to prove to Gajeel that he wasn’t a fucking little-prince.

And ok, maybe he had also given up because Gajeel was hot at that moment. Very hot. God, if only Freed thought back to what his boyfriend had looked like with his soaked hair and wet tank top attached to his body, he could get hard again. Especially if he thought about how it ended later, rolling in the grass tearing each other's clothes off.

He had been stupid. Only Gajeel could drag him to do something like that. And now Freed obviously had a fever.

Fuck.

If Gajeel had found out he’d have teased Freed to no end, repeating that he was weak as a little-prince. Freed wanted to avoid that situation at all costs.

That's why he hadn't told anyone he was sick, not even Bickslow or Evergreen. He had shut himself up in the house and filled himself with healing herbs. Luckily, he had a lot of them in stock. He just hoped that no one would ask questions and that it would pass quickly. In any case, he could have said that he had been busy with some ancient and complex translation.

Freed thus spent three days barely standing. He ate little, slept most of the time, and stuffed himself with healing herbs. When Evergreen came to his house to find out why he was no longer in the guild, Freed managed to calm her down by saying that he’d had stressful days. It was a lie, but for a good purpose. Neither he nor Gajeel wanted to go public with their relationship yet, they were both very reserved. Besides, he certainly couldn't tell her that he had caught a fever after having sex in the storm. The girl would look at him as if he had gone mad. Maybe he really was since he had started dating Gajeel.

In any case, the three days passed and Freed began to feel better again. So, even though he hadn't fully recovered, he returned to the guild, hoping he hadn't raised any doubts in that beast of his boyfriend.

But when he arrived in the guild, Gajeel wasn’t there. At first, he thought he was in the library with Levy or doing some stupid challenge with Natsu. But the two wizards were there, while there wasn’t even a shadow of Gajeel. And he couldn't even have taken a mission, since Panther Lily was there too. In fact, it was strange that the Exceed was there without the Dragon Slayer.

Freed tried not to think about it and spent the afternoon with Bickslow and Evergreen, until curiosity got the better of him and he approached Panther Lily, finding him in a moment that he was alone.

“It's weird not seeing you with Gajeel,” he said pretending indifference. The Exceed looked up at him and smiled slightly.

“He's home with a fever,” he explained. Freed was surprised for a moment and Panther Lily widened his smile becoming amused. “From one night he came home soaked and scratched. He must have had an intense fight with a demon,” he added derisively. Freed remained silent again, hoping that the warmth he felt in his cheeks wouldn’t turn into an intense blush. So Panther Lily knew. It wasn't even that strange, he lived with Gajeel and he wasn't stupid.

“I understand,” he said.

“Well, I'm going fishing with Happy today. Hope someone will take care of Gajeel” said that, Panther Lily stood up and walked away towards the blue cat. Freed stood for a moment motionless. Had he just told him to go look after Gajeel? He hadn't been with him for a long time yet, they didn't have all that confidence, and proud as he was probably Gajeel would have kicked his ass out saying that he didn't need any help.

Freed smiled. It would have been fun.

***

When he got to Gajeel's apartment, Freed had to knock three times before the boy came to open the door. As soon as the Dragon Slayer saw that it was him, he was obviously surprised. Freed hadn't gone to his house often, and they usually went together when they knew Panther Lily wasn't there.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Gajeel asked in a snarl. Freed looked at him, he wasn't in his best status, but since he continued to be arrogant, he didn't even have to be that bad. At that point he didn't feel the slightest guilt about making fun of him.

“Panther Lily told me that a little-prince lost a fight to a demon and got sick,” he replied with a provocative smile. Gajeel grunted.

“I'm not in the mood,” he growled. “And you didn't win any fucking fights, you bastard,” he added and started to close the door. Freed put his arm on top of it to keep him from slamming it in his face and was surprised to feel that Gajeel wasn’t pushing as hard as he was. Maybe he was worse off than he showed.

“I haven't won any fight, but in the end you’re the sick one. Come on, I’m here to take care of you,” he said.

“I don't need help,” Gajeel grunted. Freed at that point raised the bag he was holding in his hands and gave a small smile to calm him down a bit.

“I’ve a soup with a mixture of metals that you might like,” he said. That seemed to be the trump card because Gajeel, after sniffing a bit, gave up.

“Good,” he grunted and turned and headed for the kitchen. Freed, finally satisfied, entered his apartment and after closing the door behind him, followed Gajeel. The Dragon Slayer took out a saucepan and placed it on the stove, then took the container from Freed's hands and spilled the contents inside.

“I'll do it, you go lay down,” Freed said.

“I only let you in to eat and for some company,” Gajeel clarified grumpily. “I don't need any help,” he repeated. Freed raised an eyebrow. It was evident that Gajeel wasn’t in the best condition, probably his head was spinning and he just wanted to sleep. He knew the boy was proud, but he really wanted to help him.

“Well, unfortunately for you mine isn't a request, it's an order. Go sit down and don't complain. I cooked this and I bet you don't even know how much you’ve to heat it, with the amount of metal I put in it, you could make a disaster” he said categorically. Gajeel started to reply, but then, maybe out of weariness, maybe because he didn't want to argue, he turned around and without saying anything went back into the living room.

Freed then heated the contents, mixed a little and poked around in Gajeel's cabinets, adding some spice that the Dragon Slayer would have liked and that wouldn’t have made the soup too heavy. Once it was ready, he went back into the living room and noticed that the boy was sitting with his head leaning against a pillow and a grimace on his face. He was paler than before and Freed decided to drop the jokes on the tip of his tongue.

“Here,” he said, sitting next to him and handing him the soup.

“Mpf, hope it's good,” Gajeel muttered taking the plate and Freed snorted lightly.

“A thank you is enough,” he muttered but he knew from experience that Gajeel wouldn’t thank him. Gajeel began to eat and Freed smiled slightly as the Dragon Slayer muttered that it wasn't bad.

“I didn't know you told Panther Lily about us,” he said after a while.

“I didn’t. That damn cat found out for himself,” explained Gajeel. “And he saw me when I came home naked that night. I told him I had fought a monster, but he didn't believe me,” he added. Freed chuckled slightly.

“He really told me you fought a demon,” he said. Gajeel pursed his lips in a grin.

“Well, at least now we can kick him out of the house whenever we want,” he said and walked over to him, running an arm around his waist and pulling him over him. Freed didn't object but turned his head when Gajeel tried to kiss him, so that his lips rested on his cheek. “Don't tell me you're afraid of getting a fever, little-prince,” the Dragon Slayer derisively commented.

“Yes, and here the little-prince is you, since apparently you’re the sick one,” Freed retorted, giving him a light tap on the head. Gajeel snorted.

“Tsk. Shut up”.

Freed widened his smirk.

“Weren't you the one who said only a spoiled little-prince could get a stupid flu having sex in the middle of a storm?” he teased him by repeating the exact words Gajeel had said to him four days earlier.

“Oh, fuck you,” Gajeel snapped and Freed laughed at his pout.

“You expected me to be the sick one, tell the truth,” he said. Gajeel gave him a dirty look.

“Well, you’ve a bit of a cold or am I wrong?” he retorted. Freed frowned slightly, but shrugged.

“Are you comparing a mild cold to horse fever? There’s no story” he said and got up from the sofa to take the thermometer. He tried to take his temperature but Gajeel pushed him badly away.

“I don't need that stuff, I'm fine already,” he said dryly. Freed rolled his eyes.

“Good heavens, stand still and measure your fever. I need to know how high it’s”.

“It's practically over already,” Gajeel grunted.

“God, I don't think I've ever known anyone more stubborn than you,” Freed snapped and forced the thermometer under his armpit, sitting astride him to hold him still and blocking his arm with the hand. Luckily for him Gajeel looked really tired, because he didn't object too much. He knew that if he did, they would start fighting and never finish.

Gajeel scowled at him for a while and Freed challenged him to rebel, knowing full well that in his current states he wouldn’t be able to. After a while, however, Gajeel grinned.

“Well, this position isn’t bad,” he said amused.

“I won't do anything with you sick,” Freed clarified coldly.

“Asshole”.

“Stubborn”.

The thermometer rang and Freed pulled it back and observed that the temperature was quite high. More than 38 and a half degrees, and that idiot was still pretending to be fine. He shook his head in resignation and pulled himself off the couch.

“To bed,” he ordered.

“The fuck, I told you I don't need to sleep,” Gajeel grunted. “And you certainly didn't come here to sleep.”

“I already told you I came here to take care of you. Now shut your mouth and go to bed,” Freed snapped in exasperation. Gajeel grunted but got up a bit shaky and Freed was immediately beside him. Luckily, he didn't refuse his help and luckily in a few seconds he took him to his room. Gajeel stretched out on the bed and snorted, then clapped his hand on the mattress.

Freed took a few seconds to realize it was a way to ask him to lie down next to him, and he obliged. He lay down beside him and pulled the blankets up to cover them both.

“Do you want another blanket?” he asked noticing that Gajeel occasionally had some thrills.

“I want you to stop being so annoying,” was the grumpy reply.

“Why do you have to complicate things like this,” Freed muttered. If he was an asshole, Gajeel was offended, if he was nice, he was offended just the same. He loved his boyfriend, but sometimes he was really unbearable. Gajeel didn't answer and Freed assumed he had fallen asleep. At least he was resting now, it was for the best.

Freed smiled slightly as he listened to his heavy breathing and ran a hand through his hair. There were few sweet moments between them, Gajeel was certainly not a man who loved fuss. And Freed didn't make things easier. They spent their time mainly making fun of themselves, practicing or otherwise always had something to do. But he found himself loving those few moments of peace, before falling asleep with him or after sex. Unless the sex was the wild one they'd had a few days earlier in the middle of a storm.

He smiled in amusement at the memory as he gently ran his hand across Gajeel's arm. He had to admit that ever since he started dating Gajeel, he had really started doing things he never dreamed of doing. He had once let Gajeel drag him to a music festival and, even though it wasn't his kind of man, he’d had a lot of fun.

“No one has ever taken care of me,” Gajeel said suddenly, interrupting his thoughts. Freed frowned a little, surprised both by the fact that the boy wasn’t sleeping, and by that sudden statement.

“What do you mean?” he asked in a low voice.

“I was raised by a dragon. Not just any dragon, Metallicana. And when he left, I spent my whole life alone. I'm not used to… someone like you. I'm an independent man,” he explained briefly.

Freed remained silent, not quite sure what to say. He understood what Gajeel meant, even Freed had experienced loneliness for a period of his life. While he had met Evergreen, Bickslow and Laxus, however, Gajeel was left alone until he entered Fairy Tail.

He continued to run his fingers through Gajeel's hair in a calming gesture.

“The fact that I take care of you doesn't mean that you aren’t independent or that you’re weak. You’re a strong, proud and skilled man and I know it. That's why I like you. Moments of weakness happen to everyone and precisely because I love you, I want to take care of you when they happen” he said calmly, while a blush filled his face. Gajeel smiled slightly at admission. “And that doesn't make you a little-prince, even if you fell ill in my place,” Freed added in a slightly amused tone, popping him a kiss on the lips.

“Love you too, even if you're an asshole,” Gajeel murmured. Freed just smiled without saying anything, completely in love with the man in front of him and that strangely sweet situation between them. He liked knowing that they could share moments like that too, and that Gajeel felt comfortable enough to talk to him about things he had never told anyone.

“You got a fever too, right?” Gajeel grumbled after a while and Freed frowned slightly.

“Are you delirious?” he asked.

“No” Gajeel smiled without opening his eyes. “But you came here after four days. Knowing your bullshit, you would’ve been here after two hours not seeing me in the guild, just to fool me for as long as possible,” he explained. Freed laughed softly.

“What if it were?” he asked him.

“You remain the little-prince,” Gajeel replied tightening his grip on him. Freed would have liked to argue that at least he was healed after three days, not like Gajeel who was still in bed. Eventually, however, he decided to let it go and curled up against his chest.

“As you like” he murmured and closed his eyes falling asleep next to him shortly after.

#freed justine #gajeel redfox #gajeel x freed #gajeed #freedjeel

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selene-tempest · 3 years

Text

Mud bath.

"Erm..." Selene blinked, not really knowing what to say.

"I know."

"It's just that..."

"I said I know!"

"There's just so much..."

"I get it!"

"That's gonna take some scrubbing."

"I'm aware of that fact," Kayo's curt reply held a definite tone of warning.

Selene couldn't blame her, not really. She was covered from head to toe in mud, the dirt clinging to her skin, soaked into her hair and Selene was pretty sure she'd heard the sound of squelching whenever the other woman moved.

"Do you need any he-"

"I've got it, thanks." Kayo turned her back, walking stiffly from the hangar to the adjoined showers, knowing that Grandma would pitch a fit if any of them traipsed mud up to the main house.

Dismissed, Selene gave up the battle, knowing that Kayo, more than anyone, had moments where she just wanted to be left alone.

-x-

"Anyone seen Kay?" Virgil asked later that night when they were all in the lounge, spread out across the sofas in what Jeff called Sloth mode. Nothing was moving them short of an emergency call, which they all desperately hoped wouldn't happen.

"Not since we got back," Gordon answered. "She said she was pretty tired, maybe she went straight to bed?"

"Without eating?" Selene's inbuilt need to care for those around her pinged into life.

"I'm sure she'll get something if she's hungry," Gordon shrugged, not taking his eyes off the show on the holoscreen.

"Don't be mean," Selene swiped at his shoulder. "How would you like it if you got back and no one fed you?"

"It happens all the time," he protested.

"Not while I'm here," she said firmly. "I'm going to go and check on her."

"Your funeral."

It took her very little time to rustle up some left over mac and cheese and she took it, along with a glass of milk, up to Kayo's room.

She knocked on the door but got no answer.

"Come on, open up, I've brought you some food."

"I'm not hungry," floated through the door.

"Don't give me that shit, you haven't eaten since breakfast."

Nothing.

"It's mac and cheese," she wheedled.

Selene heard a sigh of defeat, followed by shuffling footsteps coming closer to the door.

"I'm warning you now," Kayo said through gritted teeth, "you'd better not laugh."

Selene frowned. What was there to laugh about?

"Promise me."

"Erm... OK, I promise not to laugh."

The door opened slowly, just enough for Selene to squeeze through, slamming shut behind her the moment she was inside the room.

"Where shall I put this..." Selene trailed off, catching sight of Kayo for the first time. "Oh lawd."

"Don't. Laugh."

"I wasn't going to!" Selene slid the tray of food onto the bedside table and turned to get a closer look.

"Yeah, right. I know how it looks, I've looked in the mirror."

"I honestly wasn't going to," Selene assured her. And she hadn't been. Her poor friend didn't need teasing, she needed help. Badly.

Her hair, that beautiful, thick, naturally shiny hair that Selene secretly lusted after but couldn't get without a mountain of products, looked like shit. There, she said it, even if it was just in her own head. It was fluffed up beyond all recognition, a mass of tangles and frizz the likes of which Selene had never seen.

"I'm sorry, I gotta ask..."

Kayo folded her arms, tapping her foot, daring Selene to say something shitty.

"How the hell did that happen?"

"I don't know," Kayo huffed. "I know my ponytail got loose from my helmet, that's never good because it gets all tangled then. Then the band snapped and it was a lost cause."

Selene nodded, she'd had a similar experience with her hair coming out of the back of her jacket while riding on the back of her Dad's motorbike and it had taken her and her mum the best part of an evening and two washes to get it untangled again.

"I've washed it three times, blow dried it and broken a brush on it but it's just made it worse."

"What type of conditioner did you use?"

"The one I always do, the one in the locker room and then mine up here. That one that Grandma buys in bulk."

Selene's eyes widened in horror as her friend described the torment she had just admitted to putting her hair through.

"Generic conditioner? You used generic conditioner? The same shit that Alan uses? That conditioner? And then you tried to brush it out?"

Kayo shrugged.

"What are you, a savage?"

"What else would I do to get tangles out?"

"Oh my gods," Selene clasped her hands over her heart and swayed dramatically. "I can't believe I'm hearing this. How? How could you think that would be OK?"

"It's always been OK every other time."

"No! No don't you dare dismiss it and pretend that you didn't just commit a cardinal hair sin!"

Kayo shrugged again.

Selene pointed at Kayo then the tray of food. "You, you're going to eat that while I go and get some emergency supplies, and then we're going to fix this mess!"

Selene didn't give Kayo a chance to respond, she just swept out of the room, having delivered her orders which she expected to be obeyed. Kayo wanted to argue but knew it was a pointless waste of energy. Her hair felt like straw, she was grumpy and now that the enticing scent of cheesy pasta was permeating the room, she realised she was hungry too.

By the time Selene returned, arms ladened with so many bottles Kayo was sure she had just robbed a salon, she had eaten all of the food, drank half the milk and could admit that she actually felt a bit better.

"Right," Selene declared, dumping her load on the bed and sorting through it. "This is a moisturing shampoo, it's my favourite, the one that Scott keeps stealing. We're going to wash your hair with this and then we're going to slap on this deep conditioning mask and leave it for the full half hour before rinsing."

"Half an hour?" Selene had never heard Kayo sound so shocked.

"Yep, while wearing this." Selene produced something that looked like deflated balloon that had mated with a wedding bouquet.

"What the hell is that?"

"It's a swimming cap, ignore the flowers, it'll keep the conditioner in place and create warmth to help it soak in, we'll cover it with a towel, you won't see it."

It took some persuading, but soon Kayo was back with soaking wet hair. Selene helped her to smother her locks in an insane amount of the hair mask and wrestled it into the swimming cap then wrapped her whole head in a towel.

"I feel ridiculous."

"Ypu look it too, but beauty is pain and it'll be worth it in the end."

"I know at least six different ways to kill you without you making a sound, they will never find your body."

"But you wouldn't do that to me, would you? Because then you'd be combing that shit out on your own."

The witch spoke the truth.

"Urghhh," Kayo groaned, refusing to admit defeat but knowing she had to. "This is going to take forever."

"Nah, it won't, don't sweat it. We'll have a girly night. Look, I bought face masks and chocolate too, it'll be great."

There was protests, but Selene quickly bulldozed through them like she always did, going so far as to launch herself at the other woman and sit on her when she tried to escape to lock herself in the bathroom, holding her down while she scrubbed at her face with a cleansing wipe and then painted on the mask. Ignoring her outraged screeching as she flailed her arms in a defensive attack.

The door opened at one point, Gordon and Alan sticking their heads in to make sure everything was OK. In their house screaming was never ignored. They took one look at Selene straddling Kayo, holding a dripping brush between her teeth while Kayo tried to push her hands away, both girls faces smeared in bright green face mud, and backed right out again. Selene didn't blame them.

Kayo looked at Selene, her eyes narrowing as if she were about to shove her onto the floor, but then her lips curved in a smile and she started to laugh.

They both collapsed into manic giggling, unable to stop. The looks on the boys faces ahd been priceless, as had theirs when they had turned to look at the door, pausing in the middle of their fighting.

"Thats going to be all around the island in the next ten minutes," Kayo howled.

"Oh gods, yes. They're never going to let this be forgotten," Selene wheezed, easing up on her friend and rolling sideways to get off her.

By the time their hysterics had subsided Selene gave Kayo permission to wash out her hair.

Over the course of the next two hours Selene smothered Kayo's hair in detangler and painstakingly combed through the now thankfully not so tangled mass, working in tiny sections at a time, from the tip to the roots until she could run the comb smoothly through her hair.

As they worked, with Kayo sat on the floor in front of the bed and Selene perched on the edge behind her, they fell into an easy chatter, sharing the chocolate Selene had brought with her and catching up.

If anyone asked, Selene would say she was closest to the boys, and most definitely Scott, but she counted Kayo as a close friend just the same.

At first meeting the two women had decided that they had very little in common, although they had banded together, two girls in a sea of testosterone that was Tracy Island and had become close pretty quickly.

Selene was more of a girly girl, finding enjoyment in putting on makeup, dressing up in nice clothes and watching weepy movies. Whereas Kayo was a tougher nut. She didn't really like dresses and considered makeup to be a waste of time, but they had worked hard to find a common ground.

Kayo had been used to being the lone girl (apart from Grandma) on the island and Selene often wondered if her mother dying young and her moving to the island where she had had to hold her own with what amounted to a chattering pack of wild monkeys, had stopped her from exploring her feminine side a bit more.

Kayo was great for so many things, she and Selene often spent their workout time together and had found they both shared a curious fascination for real crime documentaries, especially those of a more historical nature like Ted Bundy, The Yorkshire Ripper and the Night Stalker, it was interesting to try to figure out how today's modern technologies could have helped with the cases.

They would be found by John, wide awake in the small hours of the morning, camped out in the lounge with blankets and unhealthy snacks that Kayo would never admit to actually eating, engaged in some debate or other, sharing theories on unsolved cases or giving their opinions on one's that had already been solved.

No, their Kayo could never be described as girly but she was awesome just the same.

As Selene worked Kayo regaled her was the story of the whole sorry rescue from start to finish, starting with the flooding and finishing with all of then wallowing around in knee high muck, slopping around, falling over and basically having a less than relaxing mud bath.

The boys had had it easy, they just needed a quick shower and change of clothes, but Kayo had not been so lucky.

But the time all the tangles were out of her hair and Selene had dried it with the hairdryer she'd borrowed from Virgil's room, both girls were laughing again and with each sweep of the brush through her friends hair Selene felt her tense shoulder relaxing, simply enjoying the feel of someone looking after her for once.

Kayo didn't like being looked after, where the boys were always happy to accept any and all attention, especially if it came in the form of food, hugs or tv buddies, Kayo was more reserved and less likely to seek out company when she felt tired or moody. Selene made a mental note to force her company on her friend more often.

"There, all done," Selene announced, running her fingers through it one more time just because it felt so soft and shiny now that it had had some TLC.

"It actually feels amazing," Kayo admitted, stroke a strand between finger and thumb.

"That's because your heathen head has finally been nourished with something decent."

Kayo ignored that dig as Selene started to gather up her products, leaving some on the bedside table for Kayo to keep.

"There, that wasn't too horrendous was it?"

"So you say," Kayo huffed, but there was just a tiny hint of a smile on her face.

"So you wouldn't want to make this a monthly thing then?"

Kayo rolled her eyes. "Obviously not."

Selene shrugged, turning to pick up her things.

"But, I consider you my friend so, you know, hanging out once a month wouldn't be that much of a chore, but only because you want to."

"Oh, of course," Selene agreed, trying not to laugh.

"So, what now?" Kayo asked, reluctant to admit that it had actually been quite a fun night that she wasn't really ready to end yet.

Selene thought about it for a moment or two. "Wash off this stuff," she pointed to the mask that had long since dried into a flaking, crusty mess, "and then shove the boys off the couch so we can watch the next episode of 'Crimes of Passion, the 80s years'?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

Big thanks to @myladykayo for the picture prompt. Not sure what this turned into but I went with it.

#kayo kyrano #selene tempest #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fandom #thunderbirds fanfiction #witchy

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aibrepus · 3 years

Text

Hello. This is probably my last post on this blog, I don't intend to post any more after that. My reach for some reason has been getting ridiculously small these days and I have over 300 followers who don't interact with me, in any way.

This is more of an outburst than anything else. I am constantly taking impulsive desperate attitudes that are supposed to make people look at me and this is just one more of them, although it almost never works. I doubt anyone will read this.

My name is C. I am 16 years old. I'm brazilian, so I apologize for gramatical mistakes. I wrote this text when I was 15 or 14, but I updated it. I've tried to publicize it before. I'm trying again.

First, I have a dysfunctional family. It was something that happened when my stepfather arrived many years ago, I was 6 or 7 at the time. My mom is divorced and I don't know my biological dad. She raised me and my older brother on her own and was always looking for steady partners because of - which I didn't understand before but now I see - financial issues. She was a teacher, now retired, so our condition of life was very simple. My stepfather is also retired and has always been paid very well, compared to her. So they started dating and I was too young to see any problems with that or even to understand what that meant. He brought more money to our family and the financial stability that my mother was looking for. We left a tiny and falling apart house to live in a much bigger and more beautiful one. He looked ok at first. But after a while it seemed that my stepfather didn't really like the way our family worked or the way my mother treated me and my brother and decided that he wanted things his way. I also remember very well the first times he raised his voice to me or my brother and one of the things I most regret in life is to have let him go around dictating rules over us from the beginning, because letting it all happen just ruined my family. My stepfather started to become unbearable for both of us. Nothing was ever good for him. He was always pointing out defects in everything we did. He was always screaming. He was always talking to my mother about how she had raised us wrong. Everything had to be his way, how he wanted it, when he wanted it. It became a problem for us in a very short time. My mother also ended up moving to something a little more like him, since the way she acted "was not good". I remember thinking to myself about these things since I was 8 years old. My brother and I hated him. Soon my mother and stepfather became my two greatest enemies and this is still the case today.

Basically, to save your time, I spent all these last years of my life hating my stepfather so hard that everything he does disgusts me. When I'm on his side, it feels like I'm on the side of a complete stranger. Everything I do inside this house is meticulously thought out and planned to please everyone and especially him. The simplest tasks become nervous anxiety at the thought that I may be doing something wrong. Anything is a reason to complain and raise his voice. And now, as I said, it is not just him, because my mother is not very different and recently it has been even worse. In the beginning of my adolescence, when my family became really unbearable, I started to isolate myself in my room all day and now I just go out to eat and use the bathroom. And I do it precisely to avoid meeting anyone. I don't even eat with them anymore.

My mother is a submissive woman who knows very well that our family is horrible but we still depend on his money. That's why they never fought and got along as far as possible because she never opposes him, always agrees on everything. My relationship with her is terrible. I remember that before my stepfather our life was simpler but we were happy in some way and now because of the decision that my mother made our family is totally over. Nobody here spends a day without complaining about the other. My brother is always getting more credit than I am for things he doesn't even do. I have always been a good daughter. I were always a quiet child, my grades were always great. My brother is a grown man with 20 years on his back who can't find a job, is still in high school because he repeated two years and does nothing at home but always receives the best things while I always stay with the rest and have to run after absolutely everything. I see people talking about their brothers with that "we fight, but we love each other" story and all I can feel is envy because I never had this relationship with him. We hate each other as much as we hate my stepfather.

Last year, when I had just returned from school, the two fought. My mom was still working, so she wasn't at home. I was inside my room with the door closed, as usual. Recently my mother had talked to my stepfather about us to try to ease the situation. I heard him entering the room where my brother was. He complained about collecting clothes on the clothesline. He muttered "and then you two complain about me" and then went to the kitchen. My brother followed and retaliated for the first time. My stepfather must have come over to hold him or something and they started fighting. Really fighting. Punching each other. I heard the sound of someone fiddling with the sink drainer and then my stepfather told my brother to lower something. I was terrified. I started to cry and to shake. I took out my cell phone and my headphones and put the music on at maximum so I wouldn't have to listen. I sent a message to my mom saying what was going on. Of course, one hour they stopped. I was crying all afternoon. I've never been so scared.

Most of my problems are related to my family.

2016 was the worst year of my life because of them. The fights were very constant since the beginning of the year. At that time I was entering 6th grade and my grades plummeted. I couldn't concentrate on classes, I didn't have the willpower to do the activities, or the school works that I never used to do, or anything, whether it was related to school or not. Before that the situation was already terrible but I believe that that year it started to really get worse. I had no friends. I had just changed schools and was completely alone. My self-esteem was horrible. There was only one girl who talked to me but she was always exchanging me for other people and leaving me aside. I was always an introvert, very quiet, and I couldn't make friends at all. This girl was doing me really bad - once, we were talking to our history teacher and she told me that I was despicable for being very pessimistic and for, according to her, "not living". When I heard that I didn't think too much about it but then I started to think and I have never felt so bad in my life. I spent weeks thinking about it. I started to accept as true the fact that I was unable to make friends because I was a despicable person and that is why no one liked me. It was the most painful thing I have ever heard.

Still in 2016, we made a travel to the south because my stepfather is from there. We went to visit his family and it was not the first time, actually. It happened in December. I was really excited but the travel only resulted in more fights. The only thing I asked my mother for was a book I saw in a store that was about depression and I ended up earning nothing, just like my brother. I was really upset. My stepfather kept on teasing me. We were all asleep in his parents' living room and one night, when everyone else was asleep, I laid on the mattress crying low all night.

I was constantly thinking about suicide. It scares me to think about the possibility that, if I had an easy and fast way at the time, this could have happened. I was thinking of talking to someone at the life appreciation center but I didn't. I did a lot of research on the technique they used and realized that perhaps their rhetorical questions would not help me prevent my own suicide if I got in touch. In the end, I never told any of this to anyone. There are only two people who know the whole situation but apart from them, no one else knows what I went through that year and what I go through now. Not even my own family knew that I was thinking of killing myself because of them.

I was alone. I couldn't count on my family. I couldn't count on friends because I didn't have any. I couldn't count on anyone because I just didn't trust anyone for that. Totally alone, thinking about suicide. I was 11 years old.

In 2019 I started to self harm. I was in 9th grade and at the beginning of the school year I found a small razor inside the used art book when I first opened it. It was the opportunity I was in need of. I started to cut my legs instead of my arms so my family wouldn't see. My mom saw it, anyway. I said I did that because of them. Yes, my mother was desperate, she cried, she told me that she had related to my stepfather for the money and that my father was abusive to her and so on. She said that if she had known that my brother and I would be so unhappy, she would not have done that. And I started attending a psychologist.

What good did it do?

Me, who at first was moved by the things that my mother told me, blaming myself for being a terrible daughter and for giving her such disgust, in the end I saw her returning to the same disparaging habits as before. I still go to a psychologist today, but a different one from the first.

First, the psychologist never helped me and does not help me at all. They are the two who know what happens, although I no longer have contact with the first one. I basically go into the clinic so she can tell me everything I want to hear and everything I already know. The treatment is having no effect on my point of view and I suggested to her that perhaps medications would improve my mood, my lack of desire for everything, my lack of hunger and my insomnia. My mom was really upset because she didn't want me to take medication, but my psychologist is insisting and the consultation with the psychiatrist will probably happen sometime. But secondly, right after I started going to psychologists, my mother did absolutely nothing to change my reality at home and started to fight and yell at me in the same way that she did before. I was really stupid to have fallen into that little theater of hers. The problem is in them, and it is useless to send me to a psychologist in the hope of making me better if when I return home the same problems are repeated and everyone goes back to fighting, complaining and throwing everything at me. My stepfather never even bothered to change his conduct because of that but I expected a lot more from my mom. Pathetic to believe that something was going to change. She is spending money aimlessly on consultations and I wonder if that is what she pays so dearly for. To upset me and then send me to a psychologist for not being able to take care of her own children hoping that this will change something.

Anyway, I don't tell her that consultations don't work because I don't want to waste my time with another exhausting discussion. I always heard from people that I should talk to my family if something was wrong. I've tried to talk to them a million times and I'm where I am. There is no conversation here. All of this about my consultations is very frustrating because I always hear people talking about therapy as if it were something miraculous that will definitely help, which just doesn't happen to me. Going to psychologists does not help me.

In conclusion, I still don't stop at the urge to self-harm. My leg is full of scars and there is no one to see them. My psychologist doesn't know. I suppose she doesn't even know that I'm there because of that. In fact, there are many things that my psychologist doesn't know because I don't tell her.

Again, in 2019, thanks to a girl in my classroom, I also started drinking. I asked her to go to one of these teenage meetings and she told me that they went to the market every Wednesday to drink and smoke. Another opportunity that I needed. I thought it was time to stop being the good daughter. I tried to be it for a long time for my family. They didn't deserve to have a trophy daughter to go around showing off to friends like they did to me. I went out with them that day and drank. Very simple, actually. I found out that I am very weak. I got drunk, of course. I threw up a lot when I got home. Nobody noticed anything. And I've been in this for a long time now. I also started drinking at the beginning of the school year. When I'm drunk, I don't have to be thinking about school, or my family, or friends, or anything else. My bad reality is much lighter.

I didn't want to have to resort to drinking and smoking to be able to forget what I live inside my house. I really didn't want to. I didn't want to be that teenager. I didn't want to have to do that. I didn't want this to be the only way to make me happy for at least a few hours. I didn't want any of that.

I'm not in it because I think it's cool or because I want to be a cool teenager who drinks and smokes. It started out as a form of revenge, but then I discovered that it could actually be a valve.

I know I'm throwing my life in the trash. I know I shouldn't be doing any of this. But I need my ways to get out of this house. I can't stay in a toxic place all the time that makes me sad all the time. I avoid going back here when I'm out. I just don't want to be here anymore. I linger on the street when I come back from school so I don't have to arrive so soon. I used to go out every week. And I hope I'll be out again when the pandemic is over.

The saddest thing about the self-destructive way of life is when no one notices it. In so long that I do this, my family has never noticed. I kept coming home drunk and the most my mother ever did was to suspect when I said I was going out on my birthday. I disguise it very well, so that must be the reason.

Since I started entering adolescence, I have never made friends again - although I remember that feeling of loneliness from a very young age. There were some people I talked to at school, but I never trusted anyone. A friend to me would be much more than someone you just talk to or hang out with on a daily basis, I think. I can't talk to people. I cannot introduce myself to them. I can't socialize with them. Nowhere. Not on the internet, not at school, not even on the street when i'm drinking.

I did a lot of research and I'm almost sure that I have a severe social phobia and I'm going to talk about it with my psychologist.

I tried to make up for it by posting the texts I write on reading platforms to see if I could get any fame from it. I always wrote. My texts are mostly oneshots that I write according to what I am feeling, so my thoughts and my personal life are very much exposed in them. My constant readings have improved my vocabulary and grammar. I really care about my texts. And I also draw. I have been drawing since I was little and also regularly, so I draw very well. Everyone knows that I draw well but nobody knows about my texts. Writing and drawing is all I know how to do. My texts and drawings are all I have. My family took a lot of things from me. My family is still taking everything from me, but I put my heart into every word and illustration because it is the only thing I have left. But it doesn't matter. I've posted more than 30 short stories out there that hardly receive views, just like the illustrations I post. I wanted to work with one of these things and pursue a career mainly with drawing but I am a failure in both. Nobody reads my stories and nobody sees my drawings.

Sometimes I take the texts from my own diary. Sometimes, they carry so much truth and so much need that I collapse on myself in the end. My own tales move me. I put all of myself in them and in the drawings. I produce them with all my soul. But whatever. I don't think it's enough for people.

That is the question.

I feel like a ghost. It's almost as if I don't exist anywhere.

I am totally alone. I don't feel loved by anyone. At home I have a dysfunctional family and the only person here who seems to care about me is my mother, disregarding that she is also responsible for having ruined my life. At school, I am completely alone in the classroom, or at lunch, or any other part of the day, and I simply don't speak to anyone. On the street, I still have to settle for the least amount of people who also ignore me and hardly talk to me or take my desires and opinions into consideration. In social networks, where I should get support from people like me or at least disclose the only things I know how to do, I end up receiving the same cold indifference and I end up being alone anyway.

It seems that nobody cares about me. It seems that if I died, it wouldn't make any difference. It feels like I'm in the wrong place.

Everyone always says things like "you are not alone" or "there are people who love you" and etc., but I literally have no one. I can't socialize anywhere. Everyone ignores me. Everyone makes me feel like I don't exist. I am a failure at everything.

I dont know what I'm doing here. Reaching adulthood and leaving this place is the only hope I have of being able to be happy.

I wanted to have a normal life. A normal family. Friends. People who care about me. People who love me. I would give literally anything to have the childhood that I didn't have because of people who were supposed to love and support me and actually made me hate my own life. Anything to be a normal teenager who doesn't need to resort to self-mutilation or drugs to escape problems. Anything to at least have some friends.

I don't know what to do.

I've tried everything to make people like me. I've tried for a long time to be someone I'm not for that. I am constantly taking desperate and impulsive actions just to see if I can get anything, such as this post, but it is always in vain. They say that if you don't give up, you get things. I've been here trying for so long. I put so much of myself in drawings and texts. What do I get from that? What do I get out of trying? I've been doing these things for so long. All these years trying. All these years of holding on. I'm tired of trying. I'm tired of holding on.

All I want most in life is just for someone to look at me. Someone to look at me and see all these things. Someone to show that they care. Anything. I just wanted someone to care.

I’m practically screaming for help and it just seems like nobody cares.

On this quarantine, I have been without talking to practically anyone other than my family and my psychologist for months. Nobody came after me. Nobody sent me a message. Nobody even gave me a "happy birthday". I disappeared, deleted my few contacts, stopped using my inactive Whatsapp. Nobody asked me why. Nobody even noticed. Nobody cares enough. Nobody ever cares enough.

I wake up every day with the first thought that my life is terrible and that I will still have to deal with this family and this loneliness for a long time before I can get out of it. I have no motivation for anything else. Writing and drawing no longer seem like flashy activities. They are no longer helping. I can't stop crying all the time. My mother and stepfather made me an extremely sensitive person. I go around showing people that I have a strong personality, or that I am a cold and impassive person when in fact I am completely falling apart and nothing hurts more than knowing that no one cares. Just listening to someone screaming in an argument, even if it's not me, is enough to make me nervous.

I've been in this for a long time and I can't take it anymore. I wanted to have a happy childhood and adolescence and I just can't have it. I'm too young to be having these problems. I was too young in 2016 to be having suicidal thoughts. I was too young to start drinking because of these problems. I was too young to start self-harm, too, because of these problems. I'm too young to be suffering like that.

And I know that I no longer have the opportunity to be happy for now, while I'm here.

This must be another cry for help that I am exposing in vain. I've already sent emails to certain people, I've done posts like this before, I've posted explicit oneshots about my conditions, I've done threads on twitter. I've done everything I could, I've played all my cards. I am literally alone, not much else that can help me. All these things were calls for help, but there is no one to notice them.

I'm tired of being ignored.

I'm tired of not being seen by people.

I'm tired of being here like an idiot posting all these things and giving all these clues and being ignored by everyone. I'm tired of doing it all in vain. I'm tired of keep trying.

I bet this is just another waste of time.

#outburst #outflow #self harm #disfunctional family #personal #please help

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casey-v · 4 years

Text

Trauma

Ethan x Casey

Here’s a one shot of chapter 13. The scene in the on call room didn’t feel like fluff, so this is mostly drama. This time it’s only Casey’s POV because for me it was too difficult to find out what was going on in Ethan’s head.

Disclaimer: characters owned by PB

Words: 2,3K

Casey stared at the door of the on call room that had just been slammed in her face. Hoping Ethan would come back, she just sat there and waited, not really able to capture what had just happened. But, of course, he didn't reappear. So, she left frustrated and wandered through the halls of Edenbrook, deeply immersed in her thoughts.

Why was fate messing with her like this? They had just started a wonderful relationship in which Ethan had finally opened up to her. Since Danny’s funeral, she had spent three nights at his apartment and every second of it was pure bliss. Being alone, outside the hospital, he was so relaxed and happy, it made her heart melt. Sometimes they had a wordless understanding that was amazing. When he was relaxed it was so easy to talk to him about nearly everything and they laughed together endlessly. And of course, they had......mmmmmh…..God, he felt so great.

And now a few minutes with his mother seemed to have ruined everything. That man in the on call room was a stranger to her. No, in fact, it reminded her of the Dr. Ramsey in the days of her early internship, when he was sometimes acting like a jerk and being rude and moody. She had thought that this man was long gone. But unfortunately, the encounter today brought him back and all the walls around him were back up again.

Her feet had brought her to a certain office door. She didn’t know that this was, what she needed, until she was there. She hesitated and knocked. “Come in,” a friendly voice was heard from inside the office. When Casey opened the door, she saw Naveen’s face brighten up. Instantly she felt a little better. There was just something about him, that lifted your spirits. He was always good humored and positive, even last year, on his supposed deathbed. Ever since, they had a special bond and although they didn’t meet a lot, they were very fond of each other.

“Casey! So, rumors are true. You didn’t stay at home like I told you. But it’s good to see you.” He came over and hugged her.

“Good to see you too, Naveen. My landlord needed medical help this morning, so I brought him here and then I just stayed. It’s so boring at home and I like to keep myself distracted.” She smiled at him, trying to hide her current state. But he knew her to well.

“Well, if I may say it, you don’t look too good. Are you sure, this isn’t too soon?” He took her gently by her arm and led her to the couch to sit down. “Oh, it’s not work that is bothering me right now” She couldn’t keep her eyes from getting wet. Naveen sighed and rolled his eyes. “What has he done now?”

Through her tears she laughed. “Why do you think this is about Ethan?” Naveen had a sparkle in his eyes. “I know you and, most importantly, I know him, so this was easy to figure out. What happened?”

Casey’s expression darkened. “How much has he told you about his family background?” “A lot, I guess. Are you referring to his mom leaving?” She nodded and just spilled the whole story.

“She’s here. Came in this morning as a patient, unconscious on an opioid overdose. Ethan and I were in the ER at that moment. He was shocked. We gave her naloxone, then he just said something like ‘Nurse, take care of her’ and ran off. I found him later in an on call room, yelling angrily. He wouldn’t let me talk to him, just slammed the door in my face and left.” Naveen had listened closely, his gaze concerned. “I’m so sorry, Casey. I know he can be difficult at times. Ethan has this anger buried deep down inside of him, ever since his mother left him. Growing up with his father he never learnt to express his feelings or even worse, he never allowed himself feelings. He thinks he needs to be tough all the time. And then, when all those bad memories come rolling over him, he can’t deal with it.”

Casey thought a long moment about these words. Of course, it was perfectly clear, that Ethan had trouble talking about his feelings. But the last days had proven that he damn well was able to show his affection for her. “The thing is: Since my night in isolation a lot has changed between us.”

Casey blushed and didn’t dare to say more, but Naveen smiled and put his warm hand on hers. “You don’t have to be afraid to tell me anything. Even if I’m chief of medicine I’m also your friend and you know that I always wanted to see the two of you together. Ethan has changed so much since you came here and I’m really happy for you. He almost lost his mind that night of the assault.”

“It was terrible for all of us, but for what it’s worth it also brought us even closer together. Despite all the aftermath of the attack the past days have been great. Today though, it feels that all of this has vanished.”

“It’s a lot to ask from you in your current condition, Casey, but he needs you right now. He probably hasn’t said it yet, but I can see that he loves you with all his heart. Please don’t give up on him.” Naveen squeezed Casey’s hand tightly.

“I won’t, I couldn’t. But the question is: will he let me help him?””

***

Later Casey went to check on Louise. She was stable but not yet in a good condition. Talking to her felt odd, so she kept the conversation short. “Mrs. Ramsey, do you want me to call anybody?” It took Louise some time to answer. “I suppose you could call my ex-husband, Alan Ramsey. He lives in Providence, though.” “Sure, I’ll try to reach him. Ahm, a psychologist will stop by later. And if there is anything else you need, just tell the nurses.”

***

The rest of the day Casey tried to avoid meeting Ethan, but talking to Naveen had given her confidence, that everything would work out for the best. She didn’t want to confront the attending during working hours, so she planned to talk to him at night. The more she thought about it, the more she realized, that she may have overreacted after his outburst and that he probably would be much better by now anyway. How wrong she was became obvious the moment she stepped out of the elevator and saw Ethan and Alan standing in the hallway, involved in a heated discussion. “That’s all there is to say, dad. And now I have work to do.” Ethan’s face was red with rage. As he turned around to enter his office, he directly looked at Casey. “Dr. Valentine, in my office now.”

At first Casey was too shocked to move. Alan took some steps backwards, deeply embarrassed by his son’s behavior. “Hello Mr. Ramsey,” was all Casey could muster before she followed Ethan.

The door wasn’t even closed behind her when he was at her. “How dare you call my dad!”

“Excuse me! How dare you talk to me like this. This has nothing to do with you. Louise asked me to call him and that’s what I did. That’s how we take care of our patients. You taught me, that every patient is worth any treatment. How can you deny her visitors?” Ethan was silenced for a moment and rubbed his neck. He seemed to calm down a little. “You could have asked me to call him or at least warn me.” In contrast to him, Casey was just getting heated up. “Really? After your outburst this morning? You said, you had more important patients and didn’t want to deal with her. Get a grip, Ethan, you’re being totally unreasonable. You say she’s nothing but a stranger to you, but never on earth would a stranger affect you the way she does. You tell me not to run away from my PTSD while you've been carrying around your own trauma for 26 years. This has to stop now!”

Ethan was pacing up and down, yelling back at her. “Don’t you think I know that. Do you think I like what she’s doing to me? But I will never forgive that she left, just like that, without a word, not caring about me anymore.”

Casey inhaled deeply to get her voice under control. “You don’t have to forgive her; you just have to understand what happened. Now is the chance for closure. Talk to her. Not for her sake but for your own. Hear her story. You need to hear the reason for her leaving. It's not your fault that she left and probably also not your father’s fault either. Maybe she already had mental health problems back then, who knows. Everybody is a victim here. Maybe she just couldn't stand herself, couldn’t handle her life. That doesn't mean that she didn't love you. If you don't talk to her now, you'll maybe never get another chance.”

Ethan was sitting on the couch now, his face in his hands and mumbled. “Ok, I’ll think about it.” Then he glanced back at Casey, forcing a smile. “Do you want me to cook dinner tonight?”

She shook her head frustrated, her arms dangling loose by her sides. “That`s it? You just change the subject? I don’t believe it. No, I don’t want to be with you tonight. This day has been exhausting enough, I need to relax, watch a senseless movie, go to bed early, whatever.” She turned around and opened the door to leave when she heard his tight voice. “Only tonight?”

As she glimpsed back at him over her shoulder, she felt so sorry for him how he sat there, slumped down, observing her insecurely. In the past they had argued a lot about work related issues and she always stood her ground, but so far, she had never stood up for herself when it came to their personal relationship. Being patient and accepting his wishes was all she had ever done. But for once, she knew, she had to put herself first, although the urge to take him in her arms was almost unbearable.

“For someone so intelligent you can be so stupid sometimes. Of course, only tonight. Do you really think I’ve been waiting all this time only to run away after the first argument? I couldn’t, even if I wanted to, because the problem is, I love you, however bad you treat me. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it. You're not the only one who is able to slam some doors. “

With that she turned and slammed the door as predicted. She knew this was a bit ridiculous, but it felt really good. Only then did she realize what she had just said to him. Her hand flew over her mouth. That's not at all how she imagined saying those three words for the first time. She lingered a while in front of his door, unsure what to do, before she went home.

***

Instead of watching a movie Casey ended up playing video games with Elijah. Killing dark creatures helped her let off some steam and she enjoyed spending time with Elijah. They had just freed themselves out of a dungeon when her phone rang. There was only one person who would call her at that hour.

“Sorry Elijah, I have to take this.” She grabbed her phone and went into her room.

“Hey!” – “Casey!?” Ethan’s desperate voice made her cringe. “Can I come up?” – “Where are you?” – “Right outside.” A few seconds there was silence. Casey had told him, that she wanted to be alone, but it meant so much to her, that he came to her.

“What do you want?”

“To be with you.”

A single tear rolled down her cheek. “Ok, I’ll open the door for you.”

As he entered the apartment, she quickly pulled him past the grinning Elijah into her room and immediately found herself tightly wrapped in Ethan’s embrace. She smelled a mixture of his cologne and scotch. They clung to each other as if they had to shield themselves against a heavy storm. Casey felt his tears running down her neck. Soothingly her hand travelled up and down his spine. An eternity later he loosened his grip and touched her forehead with his.

“I’m so sorry, Casey. What kind of asshole pushes away the one person, that is always there no matter what?”

She lifted her hand and touched his cheek very softly. “Come on, let’s just go to bed.” Quietly they got undressed and crawled into the covers, her back against his chest, arms wrapped, fingers laced. Words weren’t necessary right now, the only thing they needed was to feel the presence of the other one.

As Casey was half asleep already, she felt Ethan’s whisper against her ear. “If I …, I don’t know yet, but just in case, …I mean …if I talk to her, would you come with me?”

“Is this a rhetorical question or are you really unsure of my answer?” She turned to look at him, their noses almost touching, and waited. He seemed to weigh his answer before he spoke again. “You know I’d hate to presume anything.”

Casey moved closer to put a sweet kiss on his lips. Then she sent him a warm smile and lost herself in his blue eyes, only lit by the moonlight.

“Regarding me and you, Ethan, you always can presume.”

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

Thanks for reading. Please comment and share if you liked it.

Tag list:

@queencarb @utterlyinevitable @schnitzelbutterfingers @nerdydinosaursweets @eramsey28 @mrsdrakewalkerblog @starrystarrytrouble @maurine07 @princessfuzzy12 @kenzierookie @binny1985 @adrex04 @choicesficwriterscreations

#open heart #playchoices #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #casey valentine #ethan jonah ramsey #open heart 2 #2.13 #my writing

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spagbol99 · 3 years

Note

Heyy happy FFWF! You’re amazing and I love your fics! So, my brain just decided to remind me of one of your posts from a while ago where you gave us a snippet of a fic you’re currently writing (it was the seven-sentence challenge I think) and I got curious about it again. Is it something you’re still working on? If it is, would it be possible to get another sneak peek to satisfy our irondad cravings? I’m sending some sunshine your way, hope you have an awesome day!☀️

Hiya! Happy FFWF!

I am indeed still working on my BioDad fic. I am about 90K written but I won't lie, I’m struggling a bit. I think a lot of it has to do with wanting it to be good enough- it doesn't feel like it has the same flow like I had with A Peter Parker Problem. I mean, I think what I have is ok but I want it to be as better (- sorry couldn't resist a Homecoming pun..!). So I prob need to get out of my own head about it. Anyway, that really isn't what you asked me, is it?! Can you have another sneak peek? Yes you can! Ok, you know how long winded I am so it’s more of a half a chapter rather than a snippet - oh well!

----

Peter

“Peter, Boss would like to see you in his workshop.” FRIDAY’s voice filtered down from above.

Peter looked up towards where it had emanated from, worrying his lips between his teeth.

Why did Mr Stark want him to go down there?

Peter had retreated back to his room after they had said their goodbyes to Harley. The weekend had turned out much better than he had expected. He’d actually enjoyed himself and not felt like he was taking up space in the Penthouse. They’d tinkered about with tech and watched movies. Mr Stark was so much more relaxed in the workshop. He couldn’t deny that it’d been fascinating to see the man in his element. He’d left the two teenagers to do their own thing at one point, but Peter’s eyes had been drawn to the man as he worked: watching him work with holographic schematics with singular focus.

Peter put down his pen on top of the homework packet that he was working on and headed towards the workshop.

Sweat started to pool under his armpits as the doors to the room swished open as soon as he was in front of them; no need to knock or announce his arrival.

He tentatively followed the sound of metal on metal and as he turned the corner, he could see Mr Stark was working a sheet of a thin alloy into – well he wasn’t sure what, but something else. There was a bead of sweat running down the side of his face, and his hands were oily.

The banging stopped for a moment, and Peter cleared his throat.

Mr Stark twisted towards the noise, pulling his safety visor up when he saw who it was and sending Peter a warm smile.

“You, um, wanted to see me, sir?”

Tony took the visor off completely now and headed towards him, picking up and rag and wiping his hands as he did.

“Yeah kid, I did. It’s about borrowing the tools.”

Peter straightened up. Shit, he was in trouble. He looked at the floor and put his hands in his pockets.

“I’m sorry. FRIDAY said you wouldn’t mind, but I should have asked you directly. It won’t happen again, sir.”

“Oh no, that’s not what I meant…” Mr Stark’s face crumpled. “My tools are your tools. It’s just, I figured it’s safer if you use them in here. So, I set you up with your own workstation in here, you know, so you can have a proper area to create.”

Peter stared at him. He’d never had his own place before. A million possibilities went through his mind.

“It’s just over here…”

He followed Mr Stark a few steps to where there was indeed a cleared off desk.

“I figured you might like a holo projector too.”

Peter’s eyes widened as Mr Stark opened it up.

“I set you up your own server so you can save your work easily. You can talk to FRIDAY just as you’ve seen me do and she’ll help with any calculations or, well, anything you require.”

Peter continued gaping, as Tony jotted something into the holo and a rotating gauntlet came into view. “I took the liberty of putting this on here for you to practice getting used to working with the system.”

Peter stepped forward straight away. This was the coolest thing ever. He pushed his fingers forward and grabbed a piece of the floating gauntlet in his hands, pulling it apart in a motion that he’d seen Mr Stark doing yesterday. The image separated out into the component parts. He moved the pieces around with no more than a flick of his wrist. God, the whole system was so intuitive, it was incredible.

Peter spent a few moments engrossed before he realised that Mr Stark was standing there watching him.

“Oh, thank you, this is awesome. Th-thanks.”

He saw Mr Stark moving slowly, no doubt on purpose, to place his hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. It felt warm and secure. It had been a while since he’d felt such a gentle, warm gesture from an adult. He turned his attention back to the hologram; trying to keep his cheeks from burning but knowing he probably wouldn’t succeed.

Mr Stark’s hand retreated and he did too.

“Um, Mr Stark?”

The man turned around with a hopeful expression.

“I, uh, don’t suppose you have time to show me how it all works.” Peter chewed the inside of his mouth. He didn’t need help, not really.

Mr Stark let out the biggest smile that Peter had seen since he arrived, and he came and stood next to him.

“Yeah, sure bud. All the time in the world.”

Tony

Tony’s heart had taken a while to calm down. He’d been in a lot of high pressure situations in his lifetime. Literal life and death situations; Afghanistan, the wormhole and yet here his heart had been hammering just as much as it had then. At least that is what it felt like to him. Hell, the kid could probably hear it from where he was stood next to him.

He was stood shoulder to shoulder with his son. Just that thought alone was enough to make his stomach flip – though this time in a good way. His heart rate gradually began to decline, and he tried really hard to keep the ridiculous smile off of his face.

Being so close to him, hearing him talk. And God, he was so fucking smart. He seemed to want to hide it, but then he’d start to get excited, and Tony could see the inquisitiveness and joy in him. It was there, had been all along, there just hadn’t been the chance to push it out from behind the sheer fear the kid must be feeling about this whole new situation, this whole new identity that he had.

Tony knew that they should have talked about it all directly by now. But the kid was so on edge, he didn’t want to do anything to make it worse.

Social Services had reminded him that one of the major conditions of their breaking protocol was Tony’s agreement that Peter would attend Counselling sessions – both individual and family sessions. They were set up to start next week – it was just down to Tony to tell him. Tony looked over at him, as Peter studied some calculations, his dark eyes intent on the numbers in front of him, knocking a pencil against his lips as he did. Not today.

This whole weekend had been incredible – he’d be sure to send Harley a fat gift for his part in that. He’d made it all so effortless. So Keener would be getting a gift and an extra bump in his college fund too. But if the weekend had been good, then this afternoon had been perfect.

Tony hadn’t been too sure how the offering of the worktable would go down. It could quite possibly have been met with the same polite distance Peter had shown him since he got here. He was sure he was being totally transparent. Having the worktable in here meant spending time with him. He wasn’t sure that was what Peter wanted. But then, he’d just been about to leave him to it, not wanting to hang around applying pressure and Peter had reached out to him. Peter didn’t need guidance on the system – not really, that much was obvious in the first five minutes - so Tony could only surmise that Peter wanted to spend time with him. He’d asked about Tony’s old projects and tentatively asked Tony to show him them. Which was how they came to be elbow deep in giving DUM-E a proper tune up. Self-admittedly, Peter wasn’t as up with mechanical engineering, so it gave Tony the opportunity to teach him – something that he had always imagined that he’d have the opportunity to do with his son.

Peter’s head lifted and a moment later Tony heard the tell-tale click of Pepper’s heels.

“Tony!” Pepper’s voice called. And oh yes, that was her pissed off tone.

“Over here,” he called back cheerfully.

“So you are here!” Her voice was starting to grow louder as she got closer. “You can’t just mute FRIDAY and include me in that; we had a meeting, what was so…”

Pepper had made it to where they were and stopped still, her eyes training from him to Peter and back again.

“Sorry Pep, forgot about that meeting.” Tony couldn’t help but smile at her with what he hoped was a ‘look at this, don’t mess this up’ vibe.

Pepper’s mouth was open but before she could say anything, Peter did.

“Sorry Miss Potts, I asked Mr Stark to show me how DUM-E worked…” Peter seemed to hunch in on himself.

“That’s no problem. Tony appointed me as CEO specifically so he didn’t have to deal with meetings, if I remember correctly,” Pepper said, sending him a warm smile.

“That was one reason.”

“I suppose it is pointless of me to ask if either of you have stopped to eat whilst you have been down here?”

Tony looked at Peter, who looked back.

“Erm…”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “Tony, it’s 8pm and he hasn’t eaten!”

“Oh, sorry kid…”

“I didn’t even notice the time, I was so focussed,” Peter said sheepishly.

“Oh no, now there are two of you.” Pepper put a hand to her forehead. “I’ll go and order something in whilst you finish up and wash up. Pizza ok, Peter?”

“Yes, Miss Potts. Thank you.”

With that she turned on her heel and was off.

Tony looked to Peter who looked a little chastised.

“You did good, kid. If you hadn’t been here, she’d have had my head.” Tony grinned and Peter seemed to push a little smile out. “Shall we get cleaned up?”

Peter looked down at the robot in front of them as he twisted his hands together. “We are about ready to close him up, right? I don’t like to leave him all hanging out. Can we just finish it off, sir?”

Tony shifted his weight back.

“How about we make a deal? You stop calling me ‘sir’, and we can finish DUM-E off.”

Peter looked up at him, a look of uncertainty in his face. Was it so hard to not call your own father ‘sir’? Had his parents or uncle been so formal? Or was it something else? The words emotional distance floated into his mind – huh- maybe he had paid some attention during his past therapy sessions.

“Ok,” he said softly.

“Great,” Tony gently knocked his shoulder into Peter’s without thinking too much about it and was rewarded with a smile. “Let’s get this guy back on the road.”

----

Thanks for the ask!

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years

Note

heyyyy luv could you please bless us with a secret relationship and bucky :')

specifics: bucky is always disappearing from the compound and everyone figures that it's bucky being bucky.. but he's visiting his civilian girlfriend and knows that she'll be in danger the moment they go public so he doesn't even tell the team about her.. and their circumstances of meeting could be in the aftermath of some Avengers thing?

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

Word Count: 2,837

Y/N had just hopped out of the shower and was now combing her hair and applying all your moisturizers. She was home alone in her small, one-bedroom apartment. She had some soft music playing from her laptop, trying to wind down from her day.

However, when she stepped out of the bathroom, there was a large man casually moving about her bedroom.

Y/N yelped and nearly dropped her towel from the fright.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Bucky! You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

He immediately looked guilty and tried to make himself smaller and less intimidating. “I’m sorry, doll. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I thought you weren’t getting back until tomorrow,” she pointed out, hand still over her heart as if it would calm its racing.

He stepped over to her and gave her a hello kiss. “Got home quicker than we planned. I texted you, but I can obviously see that you were in the shower when I sent it.” He pointed to her phone that she’d left on her nightstand.

Then Bucky cupped her cheek and kissed her again, slower and more passionately this time.

“I really am sorry for scaring you,” he told her as he pressed his forehead against hers.

He could clearly hear the rapid beating of her heart with those insane super-soldier senses.

“It’s OK. Should be used to your sneaky, ninja ways by now.”

He chuckled.

That’s when Y/N saw the bruise on his left cheek. His hair was wet too.

Bucky always showered before he came to see her after missions. Y/N had told him time and time again that he could shower at her place. Bucky always just shrugged and said it was quicker to do it at the compound. But he was actually just trying to hide all the blood that was left on his skin. Y/N didn’t need to see it. Especially when it wasn’t his blood.

“I’m fine. Just a few bruises. Don’t you go starting…” Bucky warned when he saw the concern in her eyes as she stared at his bruise.

Y/N sighed and allowed him to brush over it.

Then she moved around him to hunt for some pajamas and underwear.

“What’d you tell the team?” She tried to ask in a nonchalant manner as she shuffled through her dresser.

“What do you mean?” Bucky played stupid.

Y/N straightened and turned to give him a look. “I mean, what lie did you tell them before you came over here.”

She didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh.

“I didn’t tell them anything. I snuck out when they were all in the kitchen eating.”

Y/N didn’t say anything, just went back to find clothes.

Bucky was suddenly filled with guilt. “Y/N–”

“It’s fine, Bucky.” She threw on a crew sweatshirt without even realizing that it was one of the many items of clothing Bucky left at her place.

“It’s not fine. You’re upset.”

She was fully dressed now and turned around to face him. “I’m not upset. I’m frustrated.”

Y/N was always one to be direct with her emotions. Never lied about being fine when she was not. Always told Bucky exactly how she was feeling, even if it took her a bit to fully figure out what that was. It was one of the countless reasons he loved her. And it made him less shy about expressing his own emotions. His mental and emotional health only improved because of it. Because of her.

“OK…” Bucky said slowly, inviting her to continue.

Y/N sighed and plopped herself on the edge of her bed. He sat down next to her.

“Look, Bucky…I know why this – us – is secret. I understand where you’re coming from. I know…” She took a breath. “I know you do it because you think it keeps me safe. But the team…they’re more than the Avengers. They’re your friends. They’re your family. And I might not have ever met them, but from what you’ve told me, they would die before they told anyone your secrets.”

Bucky swallowed and was wringing his hands in his lap, head hung in slight shame. “I know that.”

“So why are you keeping me a secret from them?”

“It has nothing to do with you, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Bucky immediately shot down. “I’m not embarrassed or ashamed of you, Y/N. Hell, every day I wake up and wonder how I even managed to snag a dame like you. If anyone should be embarrassed, it’s you.”

She waited for him to continue and explain.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Then he reached over to hold her hand. “It’s just…I feel like as soon as you meet them, our little bubble of happiness is going to pop.” His metal hand ran through his wet hair. “When I’m with you, I just feel like Bucky. Sometimes I even feel like my old self, that naive bastard from the 30s.” He sighed. “But as soon as I introduce you to that part of my life, I’m scared you’ll see all the things about myself that I don’t want you to. You’ll be reminded that I am – was – the Winter Soldier. That I’m not just Bucky, your boyfriend. I’m a surviving POW, I’m an assassin, a soldier, an Avenger. I won’t be able to hide all my baggage once that happens.”

Y/N watched him for a moment, love was in her eyes.

“Bucky, I knew those things all along.”

“I know. I know, doll. But I just – I don’t want anything to change between us.”

Y/N laughed lightly. “Of course things will change between us. That’s part of a relationship. We grow together.” She laughed again. “Or grow apart.” Then her smile dropped and she got serious. “But I don’t see the latter happening for us.”

Bucky just nodded in agreement.

“They love you like I love you.” Y/N shrugged sadly. “I just want to meet the people that take care of you when you’re not with me.”

Bucky gave her a sorrowful grin.

Y/N sighed. “I’m not going to pressure you to do anything that you’re not comfortable with. I just wanted to tell you how I was feeling about it all.”

He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Thank you for telling me.”

Their night went on like it normally did. Bucky had returned Friday night, so now he got to spend the whole weekend with his girl.

When he was gone from the compound for long periods like this, Steve was the only one that really showed concern. He thought Bucky was always on some weird mental bender, going night after night without sleep and just wandering around. Bucky figured Steve imagined him trying to get drunk from one bar to the next.

Obviously Bucky felt guilty for unnecessarily worrying his best friend, especially when he was actually doing better than OK. But letting Steve believe in the false ideas was a sacrifice Bucky was willing to make in order to have Y/N in his life.

Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N’s argument for her to meet his friends. He understood completely where she was coming from. He wished he could give her that. He wished he could give her normal – that he was a different person, who didn’t have to hyper analyze every single decision in his life in order to keep himself and the people he loved safe.

But that kind of life was taken from him when he fell off that damn train.

————————————————

“You’re a god damn idiot, you know that?” Steve snapped at Bucky as he started ripping bandages from a roll with his teeth.

Bucky was currently laying down on the quinjet’s operating table.

“Sometimes I just hate that Captain America gets all the attention,” Bucky joked.

But Steve wasn’t laughing.

Because Bucky was bleeding out.

And he was in pain, yes. But he wasn’t about to tell anyone that.

“Well, dying on me is definitely one way to steal the spotlight, punk.”

“Captain Rogers, if I could interrupt,” Vision was looking at Bucky over Steve’s shoulder. “The bullet was a through shot and it thankfully hit no important arteries or organs. Do not be fooled by the blood, Sergeant Barnes’ super-soldier enhancements will heal him faster than the average man.”

Steve ground his teeth, thankful for Vision’s scientific encouragement but also still irritated with Bucky’s condition. “Thanks, Vision.”

“See,” Bucky started coughing. He could only imagine how pale and clammy he looked. “I’m fine.”

“Oh. Well, I do still suggest we stop the bleeding or he will surely die of blood loss.” Vision piped in again.

Bucky glared at the cyborg. “We gotta work on your delivery, pal.”

Vision winced, but got out of Steve’s way.

“You just had to go and get yourself shot. You couldn’t let me take a bullet for once,” Steve muttered as he put pressure on Bucky’s giant wound.

“Well, you see, your shield was still planted in a brick wall and I saw someone pointing a gun at you. I thought my metal arm would do the trick but the bastard shifted his aim at the last minute.” He glared at Steve for real now. “I’m not sorry. And I’d do it again.”

Steve exhaled, knowing that there was no point in scolding Bucky. The man would sacrifice himself for any of his teammates and any civilian. That’s why Steve was friends with him.

“Hey, Steve?” For the first time since getting shot, Bucky sounded scared.

“Yeah, Buck.”

“I need you to do me a favor.”

Steve nodded. “OK…”

“You can’t…You can’t ask any questions. You just have to do it, OK? I promise I’ll explain later.”

His tone was starting to worry Steve. “Bucky, you’re not dying on me, you hear me? If this is some final wish, I’ll smack you.”

“I’m not dying today. I’ve been through worse shit. Just tell me you’ll do the damn favor, Steve.”

“OK. OK. OK. What is it?”

“I’m about to pass out from the blood loss. So, listen to me carefully.” Bucky’s eyes flickered around him to make sure no one else was paying attention to him. “I need you to get my cell. Find the contact labeled Smithsonian Institution Offices. Text them that I’d like my dog tags returned from the museum. She’ll know what to do from there.”

Bucky’s body relaxed once his instructions were finished. His eyes fluttered close. Sleep sounded nice.

“She?” Steve asked.

But Bucky was already passed out.

——————————————

Steve had been pacing in the welcome lobby of the compound for a solid 20 minutes now. He was pretty sure he’d correctly put together the puzzle pieces. But Steve was having trouble believing that Bucky would do what he was suspecting.

All pacing stopped when he saw security escorting a young woman through the doors.

She was beautiful. Anyone with sight would notice that immediately.

Even if her eyes were red – which Steve suspected was from crying – they were mesmerizing.

She looked uncomfortable and clearly felt out of place at the Avengers’ compound.

Steve stepped forward. “Y/N?” He asked carefully.

She stared at him for a moment, taking him in like she was trying to match up the reality to how she had pictured him in her head.

Then she nodded.

Steve eyed the two security guards on either side of her. “I’ll take it from here. Thanks.”

Then he turned his attention to Y/N. “Follow me.”

They started their journey through the large and complicated halls of the compound. Every so often, someone walking past them would eye Y/N, not recognizing her or wondering who was lucky enough to be in the company of Captain America.

“So…” Steve felt the need to break the silence on their long walk. “You and Bucky. You’re…”

“This is not how I wanted to meet you, Steve.” She quickly rushed out. “I’m so sorry. It was Bucky’s idea, keeping me a secret.”

“Oh, I know there was no way it was anyone’s idea but his own. This has Bucky written all over it. I’m just still trying to…” Steve scratched the back of his neck, “wrap my mind around it.” Then he shook his head. “It explains a lot actually: the late nights, leaving for days at a time, keeping his phone on him at all times.”

Y/N smirked then. “I send him a lot of stupid videos during the day. Mostly cats.”

They were at the medical wing then. Steve turned to face her. “I get it. I get why he did it. But that doesn’t mean I’m not still hurt that he thought he couldn’t tell me.”

Y/N nodded in agreement, understanding where he was coming from. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I’m happy to be meeting you now. Obviously I wish the circumstances were better.” She gave him a sad smile. “He’s told me all about you. I feel like I know all of you actually.” She bowed her head. “I practically begged him to let me meet all of you. But Bucky – he’s very protective of me.”

Steve nodded. That same characteristic was the very reason Bucky was even injured in the first place.

“He might be sleeping. But he’s in the first room on the left. I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”

Y/N nodded. She was about to take a step forward, but then quickly changed her mind and hurriedly pulled Steve into a hug.

Steve was caught off guard by it, but quickly recovered.

“Thanks for always taking care of him, Steve.” She whispered into his shoulder.

“I think I should be the one saying that to you…”

Y/N pulled away and quickly wiped away tears with embarrassment. “Right. I should…” She awkwardly pointed to the room and walked away.

Steve was going to give them a moment. But his curiosity couldn’t be stopped.

Ever so quietly, he tiptoed to the edge of the room and stood hidden off to the side of the door.

“Doll, please don’t cry. I promise I’m OK. It’s all part of the job.” Steve heard Bucky trying to console her.

“When I got the text,” Y/N cried. “I just knew it wasn’t you who sent it. I knew something was wrong. I’d been feeling off all day.” She sniffed. “Bucky, I was so scared.”

“Shhh. I’m OK. Everything’s OK. Come here, Y/N.”

There was shuffling and Steve could only assume Bucky had pulled her entire body to him.

“I love you,” Y/N whispered.

“I love you too, doll.”

An hour later, Steve found both of them passed out. Even injured and asleep, Bucky had both his arms protectively around Y/N, holding her as close as possible. His nose in her hair. Her head on his chest.

——————

A week later, Bucky found Steve in the study.

He’d been discharged a couple days ago, but firmly ordered not to overexert himself. The team had let him heal, all of them slowly being told about Y/N’s existence and letting her be the one to nurse Bucky back to health in privacy.

“You want to talk about this?” Bucky asked as he leaned against the doorway.

Steve closed his sketchbook and rubbed his face with a sigh.

“You’re allowed to be mad at me, you know.” Bucky added.

“I get why you did it. I do.” Then Steve finally looked at him. “But that still doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

“Y/N…she was the only thing in my life that was all mine and no one else’s. Everything else about me is owned by the world. My story, my history, my imprisonment. It’s out there for the world to read and make unfair judgements about.” Bucky shook his head. “I just couldn’t bare to bring Y/N into that: to be judged and criticized.”

“It’s me we’re talking about, Bucky.” Steve argued.

“But it wouldn’t stop there. Next it would’ve been Sam, then Nat, then Tony. It’s a slippery slope. All I ever wanted to do was keep her safe, Steve.”

“I know. I know.” Steve sighed. “That’s why I’m not mad at you.”

“You’re not?”

“Of course not.”

“That means a lot to me, Steve.”

“You know, it all makes sense now.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “What does?”

“Why you’ve changed so much – and I mean for the better. You seemed happier, lighter, healthier. It’s because of Y/N, isn’t it?”

Bucky smiled even at just hearing her name. “Yeah, it is.”

Steve nodded and gave him a shy grin. “I talked to the team. They understand the situation.” His eyes grew heavy with earnestness. “Your secret is safe with us, Bucky.” He cleared his throat. “She’s one of us now. And we protect our own.”

“Thank you, Steve.”

“Can you just do us all a favor though? Can you start bringing her around? Maybe just properly introduce her to everyone at least?”

Bucky smiled. “I think we can manage that. Y/N would – that would make her really happy.”

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

I have a few more of these requests to fill. Honestly, they’ve been fun and a great palette cleanser.

Let me know what you think!

(My requests are no longer open FYI.)

3K notes · View notes

badwithten · 4 years

Text

「2:45 pm」The constant beeping of the heart monitor was something Jaemin had become used to over the past months. Even the harsh hospital lights barely made him flinch anymore. This place had become too familiar to him, too much like a second home. But he couldn't imagine it another way when apart of his home was stuck here.

After a serious car accident leaving you with a traumatic brain injury, they had no choice but to put you into life support, at first it was only going to be for a week. But once they discovered you weren't recovering properly it became months.

Although physically this was challenging on you, the person struggling the most with the whole situation was Jaemin. Of course at first he was distraught with the whole accident, but he still had hope. Now after seeing you get worse every day, he was slowing losing the hope that one-day things might be back to normal.

Jaemin was at your bedside every second he could, he worked around his busy life to make sure his schedule didn't clash with the hospital hours. Even then he would still ditch practice to visit you. All of this was taking an impact on his mental state, the time he spent with you he should of spent resting. And when he would miss out of work, that defiantly was affecting his career, but that didn't matter to him. You were his whole world, and he was watching it die.

As time went on you weren't getting better, your body wasn’t healing the way it should. Your organs failing to work on there own. On top of that brain activity was little to none. You were very unresponsive, but that didn't stop Jaemin from bringing your favorite books to read to you or tell you about his day. He likes to think that somewhere in there you are listening to him, nodding, and making jokes as you normally would. Someday he’ll just sit there and squeeze your hand, telling you how much you mean to him. Hoping that one day he might get a squeeze back. So far he’s had no luck.

“Hey Y/N” He sat down next to your bed, taking your hand in his. “Work was busy today but we finished up a song for the new album”

“You know that song I told you that me and Jeno were working on?” Tears began to well up in his eyes. “I was going to wait till it was finished properly to surprise you with it”

“But I guess we don’t have time for that anymore” He tried his best to not be upset around you, but today was different, it was hard for him to stay strong, “I thought I’d sing for you, um I can’t play guitar like Jeno so it’ll just be me singing.”

“I hope that’s still ok” He took a deep breath, getting ready to start.

“As the world, I’m heading towards and matching up to is getting bigger” He watched your face intensely as he sang, looking for any sign of life. ”It makes me feel an emptiness somehow”

“What part it is, even if the shape is maybe like this” He doesn't know what he's expecting from you, you’ve never responded to him before. But today hurts the most. “Even when myself can’t come to know it”

“As if solving up the scattered pieces” He��s sung many songs to you before, but since this one was written directly about you. It was harder to sing, “We are matching up our stories”

“Inside the empty spot in my heart, there’s a piece called you taking place”

“I just know it at first glance I saw you”

“You’re my missing puzzle piece”

“Finally I solved it”

“You filled every piece of my heart, even the scarred part of it to the fullest” The hospital called him a week before saying if your condition didn't get any better they would have no choice but to take you off life support. And today was that day.

“And somehow, you’ve become my everything” He was now hunched over your side, tears streaming relentlessly down his cheeks. He knew there was more he could have sung to you but he couldn't bring himself to do anymore. The pressure on his heart is to much. After he stopped shaking he stood up and placed a kiss on your forehead. He had only one more line he knew he could sing. But he didn't want to. Singing it would mean one thing.

“My missing puzzle piece...” Goodbye.

134 notes · View notes

addysonsophia · 4 years

Text

Pressed Coffee

Pairing: Johnny x Reader (gender-neutral terms were used, but I had a fem!reader in mind when writing this).

Genre: Fluff, angst, some suggestive situations (not really).

Word Count: 9.1K

Summary: This is difficult to explain. I had to write this for a college lit class following the form of David Levithan’s Lover’s Dictionary, which twists the “normal” way of defining words. Told through the lens of a man we learn about his relationship, the reader doesn’t know the sequence of the events that are taking place before our very eyes, through the words that he has chosen to define with tableaus of his love life. I did this with Johnny, and I think I did a good job. Wow, this was a bad summary. Let’s try: How coffee can lead to a beautiful romance. Yeah that’s ok.

Warnings: None, some angst near the end.

Caffeine n.

I was late, like always.

I woke up a whole hour later than normal, and that caused me to do a speed-run version of my morning routine. Good thing I shower at night—a great time saver. I left my apartment in twenty minutes; as I stepped out the door the noises of the morning surrounded me: cars bumper to bumper through the city making their way to work: morning joggers with their dogs and strollers zooming past the seemingly frozen vehicles; birds swooping down from the sky to the land, hopping, and hoping for some food.

I quicken my pace as I head to the subway station on 48th Street; my shoes just a tiny bit too tight today, barely allowing me to keep my speed. Closer, I get to the orange sign, the faster time moves, never letting me get ahead, leaving me two steps behind. Down the stairs with a quick hop in my step, and a swipe of my subway card, I wait on the platform for my train. I looked to my watch, then to the board above the tunnel—the train was seven minutes way.

“Crap.” Was what I said out loud but, in my head, I was breaking down. It takes a lot to make me stressed but being late was suspect number one. Being late, is like a mortal sin that has been ingrained into my psyche from a young age: all my after-school activities in high school emphasized how important being on time was. “If you’re early, you’re on time. If you’re on time, you’re late. If you’re late, you’re dead.” That is what many band teachers, drama directors, and coaches have said to me. In college, there were consequences to being late, the beginning of practices would be spent running for every person not there (if they didn’t inform the coach that they would be late), then when the offender would arrive, they would run. Being on time shows that you are respectful, aware of other people and their time that they are giving up to also be there.

With the rising levels of stress, I shot my boss a quick text:

“I’m running a bit late. I’ll be in soon. Would you like me to pick anything up for you?”

A minute later, she responded with:

“That’s fine, you don’t have tons of work like normal. Can you get me a coffee? You know my order ;)” A sigh of relief fell from my mouth at the message, and the growing squealing sounds from the tunnel. I send back a thumbs up and slip my phone back into my pocket.

The wind of the underground picks up as a silver train flew by, slowly coming to a halt. As the doors open, people being to push their way into their spots—I take mine towards the front of the car, another hand joining the many others on the rail overhead. Swaying back and forth, the lights flicker above me as the air conditioning blows; a baby sits on their parents’ lap in front of me with the biggest smile on their chubby face. A small wave is all it takes to grab the baby’s attention, smiling back, I make a funny face at them, and now they’re bubbling with the cutest laughter. They reach out to take my hand, their ravioli sized fist wraps around my pointer finger, and the last of my stress melts away with this little angel in front of me. The parent, also has a smile on their face, appeased with the behavior of their child—any form of travel with a baby is hard, so I try and make it a little easier for them.

Sadly, my stop was up, and I waved bye to my new friend. I stepped off the train and headed up the stairs to 110th street. I already knew what coffee shop I was going to: there is a small café down the block from my office that has the best drinks and snacks—which was prefect because I had to skip breakfast. Hauling ass through the streets towards Papaya Acres Café, I mentally prepared my order.

“One large, caramel swirl ice coffee, two and two liquid sugar; one medium hot coffee with regular cream and sugar; and a croissant with butter, warmed.” The bell chimed as I pulled the glass door open and was immediately bathed in the scent of coffee and sweets. I inched forwards in line towards the cash register, when I made it, I recited my order perfectly, paid, then waited at the pick-up counter. The bell above the door twinkling when more customers came in, the melodic music coming from the speakers, and the whining from the espresso machine. I pulled my phone out to kill time before my order was ready, I opened Twitter and started scrolling through my feed.

“Dude, you can’t just, like, look at someone like that and not expect to get punched in the face.”

“I didn’t mean too! There was a-a-I don’t even remember, but she didn’t have to punch me.” What did this guy do? I know that I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help it, I had to listen in.

“I don’t know, I saw your face, and I would have punched it too if you were looking at me like that.” The man, that was facing me, had brown hair that was styled away from his face, leaving his brown eyes on display—they were light and full of mischief. He wore a grey sweatshirt that looked comfy as hell, and he had a smile stretched across his face.

“Well, he seems nice.” I whisper to myself, my lips dancing into a smile. I turned my back to them, deciding it better to not listen in anymore.

“I don’t know any—”

“Miss, here’s your order.” Two coffees sat in a carrying tray and a bag—hopefully containing my croissant—in between the drinks.

“Thank you, have a great day.” My smile grew as I picked up my order. Turning back to the door, I began texting my boss that I was on my way. I made it a few steps when my hands were knocked towards me.

He was early, like always.

Frustrated adj.

Today, out of any day, today was the day that I was going to cry in public. Now, I never usually cry, not at movies (sometimes I do, I’m not heartless), not at sad songs, not when I’m stressed, and definitely not in public. But this just broke the dam.

There I stood, in the middle of a coffee shop, with both boiling and freezing coffee down the front of my white sweater—well, my now, brown sweater—and cute black pants. The clear plastic cup sat crushed next to the paper cup, the rest of the hot coffee melting the ice on the floor. A pair of faded, black converse faced my black shoes. Tears begin to pool in my eyes, the tiled floor becoming blurry, hands clasp my shoulders and my head snaps up.

“Are you okay?” Deep brown eyes stare back at mine. The tears being to race down my face.

“Yeah.” I nod slowly.

“Then why are you crying?” A soft hand comes to my cheek, his thumb brushes a tear away. After that I just completely broke down, like big ugly sobs, snot—everything. His hands shift, moving from my face and shoulder to caressing my head and holding my back.

“I woke up late, then my train was late, but my boss said it was fine and wanted me to get her a coffee, and then I split it all over me. But this is the fifth time I’ve been late this month, and my supervisor said that if I was late one more time, I have to meet with her.” With a heaving chest and choked sobs, I managed to explain my short morning. Sinking further, I wrapped my arms around the kind man and just let it out. I probably shouldn’t have done that, but he was so warm, and I was so tired—sometimes you just need a hug.

“That was my fault, I’m sorry.” He whispered into my hair, a hand running up and down my back. Slowly, I began to calm down, savoring the hug for a few more moments before I pulled away. I looked at his grey sweatshirt and saw dark marks from where my face was and the remnants of the coffee.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry that I got tears and snot on your sweatshirt.” Dabbing at my tears to dry my face, I turned away, getting mascara on my sleeve—the sweater was already ruined so it couldn’t get any worse. I pulled myself from his arms sighing, I bent down to grab my phone (thankful undamaged) and texted my boss what happened. I turned to the counter to reorder, and the worker already has my order ready.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that.” I begin to pull my wallet out to pay, but she was just shaking her head at me.

“After what I just saw, you are fine. Don’t worry about it.” Her smile was kind. I went back up to the counter and put a couple of bills in the tip jar.

“Thank you so much.” I turn back around and see the man still standing were I left him.

“Hi, my name is Johnny. Can we start over again?”

Gilded adj.

Being with Johnny was like being in a world of sunlight. Everything was filled with loud laughs, quiet whispers, longing glances, quick kisses, and loving touches. Of course, there were arguments and disagreements, we were a normal couple in a not so normal world. His job is demanding, long hours and weeks spent with the only kinds of communication are texts and FaceTime calls. At first, this arrangement was strange: dates spent at hole in the wall restaurants in a back-corner way from the other patrons; dinner and movies—at home; late (like 1 a.m.) walks in the park, and food from convenient stores. It was easy to get used to, and I get why it had to be that way. When your boyfriend is part of a world-known group, you can’t really go outside in broad daylight and be seen together—it would most likely ruin his career, and some of the fans go too far.

I rolled over, a mess of blankets and sheet caught between us, and I just look at him. The sun streamed in through the curtains, filling the room with a warm glow. His hair turning a rich golden brown, the light doesn’t stop there, bathing his skin a shimmering yellow. The sight making me gasp, because in that moment, he looked ethereal—in that moment I knew I loved him.

Soft breathes fell in the space between, I moved my hand and started tracing his face. Thick eyebrows, long lashes, strong nose, full lips, sharp jaw; this man looked like he was carved from the Gods themselves, and he was all mine.

He groaned when I stopped my movements; arms moving, coming to pull me closer to his chest.

“Morning.” Eyes still closed.

“Morning.” Eyes opened, the brown catching the light and turned gold. I leaned in and placed a quick kiss to his lips, then tried to get up. But he wasn’t budging.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He raised himself up on one arm, holding me with the other.

“Bathroom.” He shook his head, I moved away again. Then he lifted himself up, arms coming to either side of me, only to lay himself on top of me, effectively stopping any attempts to start the day.

“You’re not going anywhere.” His lips tickled my neck as he spoke. I sighed out and began to run my hands through his hair, and his breathing slowed. Shortly after, the snores started, and there was no way I was getting up for about an hour. I wrapped my arms around him and started to fall back to sleep.

Perfect, it was perfect.

Hostile adj.

It was a rare date night out, and I was brimming with excitement. Tonight, we went to our favorite restaurant then headed for a movie at my place. On the walk back to my apartment, something felt off. Footsteps and whispering followed every step of our own. I pulled my face mask higher up on my face as I looked around—to not cause suspicion. With a glance behind us, I saw a group of girls, and my heart sank. This was it; this is where the relationship ended; they were going to find out and tell everyone.

See when you date a celebrity, there are rules because there are consequences. The fans of most groups are wonderful, the kindest people you will ever meet, but then there are a few that are not. These fans think that they are entitled to the artist: they stalk them; find their phone number, and call them constantly; they send death threats to anyone who gets close to their favorite artist—or worse to the artist themselves. To say I was scared would be an understatement.

“John, there’s a group of girls behind us. They’ve been following us for a while.” I lean my head on his shoulder to not cause alarm.

“John? Wha—Oh. Ok. Ah, let me think.” He became serious: eyebrows furrowed under his black cap; lips pursed behind his face mask. I don’t know how they found us; we were so careful.

Steps grew closer, and I could hear some of what they were feverishly whispering about.

“Do you think it’s him?”

“It has to be. I mean, look at him.”

“If it is him, who is that?”

“I don’t know, but I think if I can get close enough I can—” With that they dared more steps, for every two we took, they took three. This was getting serious.

“Ok, after we reach this corner, we are going to enter that store—see it? The bookstore? —then we are going to walk around inside until they follow us in, then after a few seconds we are going to leave, then make a break for it down the block. Sound like a plan?” It was a stupid plan, but it was the only one we had right now.

“I guess, this better work.” My grip tightens on is arm, trying to ground myself in the situation.

“Wait!” One of the girl’s screech behind me, I slightly turn my head to hear better.

“—said that she spotted him on 1st and 3rd Street. Let’s go.” They all crossed the street and headed in down the block—away from us.

“I think we are going to have to stop with the dates outside for a little while.” With a sigh, he nodded.

Lend v.

It was a cool day, in October, and I forgot my jacket. Walking through the streets at night would have been fine if it were summer, but it wasn’t. I had been in such a hurry to get out of the apartment to meet up with him, that I just completely forgot to grab the jacket sitting on the hook by the door. I didn’t notice until I had made it to the restaurant.

“Did you walk all the way here without a jacket?” I scooched my chair closer to the table, grabbing my glass to sip some water.

“Uh, I forgot it to grab it when I left.” A chuckle falls from his mouth, his eyes curving to crescent moons, then he reached across the table to take my hand, his larger one encompassing my own.

“You’re a freakin’ loser.” An often-used term of endearment. Eyes rolling, I squeezed his warm hand.

“Takes one to know one.” His face breaks into a wide smile.

The waiter came to take our order, and when he left, we just sat in each other’s gaze, content with the moment. The food came, bites were shared, and when the bill was paid, he offered to walk me home.

With the moon rising higher in the sky, the temperatures dropped. Lights from shops, apartments, and streetlights created a world of color, drenching us in greens, blues, reds, and yellows. A gust of wind came from behind us, and in a moment of silence after—he dropped his jacket onto my shoulders. I laughed.

“Thank you.” I looked at his profile, a strand of hair fell into his eyes, and he just left it. Lips were curved into a small smile—proud of the smoothness of the execution; a black turtleneck was the only thing shielding him from the weather, and from the looks of it, he was winning.

“Always. Can’t have you freezing on me.”

“I’m not going to freeze, Johnny.”

“Not when I’m here, duh.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I’m lucky you’re mine.” Not only was my body warm, but my face was too.

He was smooth.

Loneliness adj.

He was gone. Days had turned into weeks, and the bed had grown cold as nights were spent hoping for his return. Time seemed to move slower without him by my side; the sun and it’s jovial rays never seem to set, and when they do the moon and its frigid compassion surround me in an endless longing for the light. I know that I shouldn’t be acting like this, but he was my world.

I made my way to the kitchen, the cold floors numbing my bare feet. The blanket wrapped over my frame providing little warmth. The rising sun casted an orange glow in the room. I slowly set my mug into the sink, washing the rings of coffee from the inside wall, my movements becoming sluggish as the world caught up with me.

The lock beeps from the front door, gradually opening. Shuffling could be heard in the entryway: keys being placed on their hook, bags being set down, shoes being kicked onto the rug, and jackets being placed on the rack. Water running down the drain was the only thing that filled my ears—deaf, I was to the footsteps drawing closer. Mug in one hand and scrubber brush in the other, I gazed to the beginning of the day: lights flicking on room by room in the building across from me, people making their way of from their homes, cars starting to head towards their destination. Vibrations come from behind me as warm hands snake around my blanket, hands turning into arms and a chest pressed into my back. It does not shake me from my trace, still I gazed out the window—until warm lips press onto the top of my head. By the time I had set down the mug and scrubber, I was turned around, facing him. As I looked into his eyes, my own began filling with tears. Like the play button had been pressed, my hands shot out to grab his arms, pulling him closer.

“You’re back?” uncertainty filling the room.

“I’m back.”

My world had returned. He pulled me from the sink, taking one of my hands and his other sliding to my back, he begun to sway. There we stood, dancing in the kitchen at 6 in the morning—revolving around each other, for we were the centers of our universe.

Nervous adj.

The energy in the venue was high, everything was buzzing: the lights, the speaker, the crowd, and my heart. This was the first time that I saw Johnny’s group in person, I’ve seen concert videos, fan-cams, and their online concerts, but never in real life. He has been on tour for two months—which is a long time to only talk through FaceTime and texts, but it was well worth the wait. I managed to get tickets to their last show, shortly after followed plane tickets and a hotel reservation.

The beginning of my day was spent sleeping in to get rid of the jet lag, once I was up and ready, I headed to the venue; the concert may start at 8 p.m., but you also have to get there early so you can get fan-made stuff and merch. I arrived at 4 p.m., and began to wait, making friends along the way, excitedly talking with them about the members, songs, moments, and theories for the next comeback.

I made it to my seat, light stick, and fan banner in hand as I pulled my phone out to text him good luck—as I did for every concert. I went on Twitter to see that the concert was trending, a smile on my lips as I liked the groups’ pre-concert posts. The fan sitting next to me saw my fan banner.

“Ooh, you like Johnny?” Their eyes sparkling in the bright fluorescent lights overhead.

“Yeah, as much as I love them all, he’s my favorite. Who’s you’re favorite?”

“Haechan, he’s so cute. But I also love all of them members too.” After that we got more friendly, names were swapped, and then we started talking about everything about the group. As time for the concert began grew closer the more my heart began to race, my palms became sweaty, and my stomach was in knots. Soon the lights dimmed, and the crowd thrummed with energy, light sticks turning on and the space changed into a green ocean.

The screens on the stage flickered to life, beginning the VCR introduction. The lights flashed and there he was in all his glory, standing before me. The music played and the members came to life, moving as one before the crowd.

But he always stood out to me.

Smitten v.

He had seen me during the concert and had someone come get me when it finished. Going through some ‘STAFF ONLY’ doors, and many turns later, I was in the dressing room waiting for the guys to finish going over the concert.

Sitting, on my phone, still going through the concert tag on Twitter, I heard them coming from a mile away with their excited yells and laughs. The door opens and they all flood into the room, the sound following them in. He was the last one, of course. Eyes scanning the room, going from person to person trying to find something, someone—me.

When our eyes met, it was as if the world going on around us had melted away, it was only him and me. It was perfect. Slowly, I rose from my seat and started to make my way to him, he was pushing through the people blocking us. When we got to the middle, he slowly, but surely, wrapped his arms around me. It was warm and whole, and I accepted it—eagerly. I buried my face into his chest—slightly heaving from the two-hour long concert, the sweat was felt on my cheek— and I smiled into it.

“Hi, I missed you.” Quiet, we were, afraid that this moment could end in the next breath.

“I missed you too.” He kissed the top of my head, then rested his cheek there, I wanted him to stay there forever. But our reunion was stopped when the others joined in on the hug—turning into a dog-pile. I let it happen for a little while, but then it started to get hot, and they were all sweaty—so, so sweaty.

“Guys…I can’t breathe anymore.”

“You let Johnny hug you, so why can’t we.” Mark said from somewhere from the outside of the pile.

“Because he’s my boyfriend, and ya’ll are gross and sweaty.” I squirm in Johnny’s arms, but none of them budged. “I’m going to die in here, aren’t I?” I whisper.

“Probably, but at least I’ll die with you.” He whispers back.

“No, you’re not, you Giraffe. You get fresh air and everything, while I’m down here in the depths of gross boy stank.” I resorted to whining, I’m not proud but I needed out of my prison.

“Guys, you heard them, give ‘em some space. They’re right, you do stink.” He started pushing them away, chuckling.

“Is that better, Baby?” He brushed my hair out of my face when I looked up at him.

“Yes, Handsome. I can only handle one stinky boy right now.” His hug became crushing as he lifted me a few inches off the ground that left me squealing.

“Stinky?!” Eyes wide. “I’m stinky?” He asked, voice raising a few decibels.

“Big time.” Then, my life flashed before my eyes as he starts to rub his head all over my face. Gagging, I push his nasty ass away from me, but with his grip around me, he wasn’t going anywhere. A hidden smile on my face turns into a frown when he lifts his head up to look at me.

“You’re gross. I don’t want to hug you anymore.” I push again, but that only encourages him. His hands shift from my back to my sides, then he starts to wiggle them over the covered skin.

“Stop it! No, Johnny! Stop!” Forced laughs escaped as tears start to run down my face.

“Then, take it back! Say you want to hug me!” He wasn’t letting up, if anything, he was picking up the pace.

“Never! I told you that I don’t want to hug stinky boys!” My chest began to rise and fall at a rapid speed, air rushed into my lungs only for it to be ripped back out. There was no end in sight as one of his hands grasped my side to stop me from trying to twist out of his attack.

“I’m not stopping until you say it AND give me a kiss!” A huge smile and crescent eyes are all I saw as he brought his face closer to mine, smile slinking into a smirk. “Be good, and listen, Baby.” Time to bring in the big guns.

“Jaehyun! Help me! Please!” I whip my head around to not only look for my hopeful savior, but to hide my flushed cheeks from his comment. As fast as I called his name, two more arms wrapped around me, and pulled me from Johnny’s ruthless hold. I push off from Jaehyun; finally, away from the constant contact, I slowed my breathing down. Smoothing my hair down and running my sweaty hands down the front of my jeans, I stood up straight and looked at Johnny.

“That was mean.” Lips: full on pout mode, Eyes: puppy dog mode engaged, Arms: crossed over one another. I was the picture-perfect example of how to get an apology. With his jaw dropped and eyes wide, Johnny was the perfect example of forming an apology.

“Mean?! You said that you didn’t want to hug me anymore!” True.

“But I was just joking. You didn’t have to rub your sweaty head on me, then tickle me.” Jaw snapped close, and eyes turning into soft brown ones, we were at a standstill. The others were lightly laughing at the scene going on in front of them, one seen many times before, but always with a different victor.

“You hurt my feelings.” One step closer.

“You hurt my nose and lungs” One step.

“You were mean.” One step.

“You were meaner.” Last step. We met in another hug; the winner was obvious.

“God, they’re so whipped for each other.” Mark whisper to Jaehyun with an eye roll.

Telephone n.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Not possible.”

“I think it is, Johnny. I love you so much more than you love me. You fill up, like, 54% of my heart.” With a slight nod, I won this time.

“Only 54%? Are you loving other people on the side?” A dramatic gasp and a flared hand placed on his chest caused me to laugh.

“Of course, Loser. The rest of the boys take up about 6%, My mom has 10%, Ms. Jenkins and her cat has 7%, and I have the other 23% saved for a rainy day.” My cheeks began to hurt from smiling so much; one thing that I love about him is that no matter what, he can always make me smile.

“Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret, Baby.” I slightly leaned forward, even though it did little to minimize the actual distance between us. My breath caught, as I strained my ears to hear him as he whispered.

“I love you, 3000.” My face dropped, a chuckle bubbled out, turning into a laugh, then into a cackle, and finally, I was in bed with tears streaming down my face and I couldn’t catch my breath. Once I finally calm down, I looked at him with a serious face.

“You are the love of my life.”

“And you are the love of mine.”

“I miss you.” Sigh.

“I’ll be home soon.”

“You’ll always come back, right? Back home? Back to me?”

“Always.”

That night, neither one of us hung up, content to still in a comfortable silence until he fell asleep. Then I soon followed, the sound of his breathing lulling me to sleep with one word on my mind.

Always.

Voyage n.

I watched the sun sink beneath the tall buildings. The sky had been graying all day and with the dark clouds rolling in, all the signs pointed to a storm.

But there was going to be more than one storm tonight.

Hours over the stove, wasted as the meal sits in the oven waiting to be eaten. Slowly, they lose their heat, mine steadily rose. The cars filter through the street below, reds, blues, blacks, but not the car I was waiting for. The rain falling on the street, coloring it dark; the hum of electricity fresh in the air as a flash of lightening lit up my face in the window. I looked around my dark apartment and felt empty. With a huff, I head to the bathroom, limbs stiff from sitting folded up on the couch, waiting. I looked at the mirror, sighed, turned, and left. Walking through the dark apartment, I heard thunder booming overhead, followed by a crack of lightening, brightening the room for a second, before being shrouded again.

Four times. Now, five times, he had missed our date. There was no text, no call, no note. Nothing, there was nothing.

There was one thing: loneness.

There were two things: loneness and anger. Two things that don’t work well together. One eats at the mind, and the other eats at the soul.

Hours passed, and I was still alone, sitting on the couch. Still waiting. That’s what this relationship was, waiting: waiting up for him to come back after practice, waiting for him to come home after months of being away, waiting for him to show up to dates, waiting for love. That was the hardest part, the love. Being away from each other as often as we are, you don’t feel loved—I don’t feel loved. Nights spent lying in bed waiting for him to hold me. Days spent waiting for any sign of life on his end. And the in between spent always waiting.

It was a moonless night because of the storm, still pounding away. They say thunderstorms are caused by the Greek God, Zeus, king of the sky, when he’s angry. How I shared his rage tonight. How I wanted to scream at him, but no sound came out. Nothing came out. The door beeped, then opened; shoes kicked to the floor, and keys hung up on the rack. A sigh fell from the doorway. I looked at my watch, the glow threw shadows around the living room as it read: 11:23 p.m. Steps heard, a light clicked on, a name is called—my name. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

My named echoed through the apartment, he wondered into the living room—light still off.

“Baby, what are you doing sitting in the dark?” A chuckle falls from his lips, a sigh from mine.

“Waiting.” My mouth too dry to put power behind it, so it came out as a whisper.

“What?” He made his way closer to me, only halfway to the couch I was curled on.

“Waiting.” It was a little louder this time.

“Honey, speak up. You’re whispering.” He was almost in front of me know, I could smell his sweat mixing with his deodorant.

“WAITING! I SAID I WAS WAITING FOR YOU!” A crash of thunder boomed in time with my declaration. He stood, staring at me like I had grown another head.

“I’m sorry.” With my chest heaving, I pulled myself off the couch, making my way to leave the room to cool down. I passed him and he grabbed my arm, halting me. I turned to face him, his eyes moving quickly over me—searching for the reason of my outburst. A crack of lightening spilt the sky and lit his brown eyes that were wide with worry.

“W-What’s wrong? What happened, Angel?” He grasped my hands and held them in between us. I scoffed, head shaking. Did he really forget? Something so important—a date—and he doesn’t even know what he did wrong? I let it go the first few times, but this—this tipped the scales.

“You forgot.” I spoke, words filled with a venom that I could feel the burning at my tongue and throat, itching to get out. I stared at our connected hands, frustration filling me up, I could see it collect in the corner of my eyes. The wind started to slam against the windows, as another clap of thunder sounded.

“Oh, Sweetheart. I am so sorry. I got hel—”

“You got held up at practice.” I laughed, because of course he did. He always did. I was beginning to feel hot; I dropped his hands and crossed mine. He reached out for me, but I stepped away—needing space.

“Darling—”

“Stop with the nicknames, Johnny! Stop trying to defuse the situation!” I paced around the living room—still in the dark—trying to ease the anger. Johnny walked away to turn the light on; the room bathed in a hue of gold. He was wearing those sweatpants that fit him just right, and a black long sleeve; a tired look on his face, but his eyes were guarded—trying to read my fire-filled ones.

“There is no situation, I don’t see why it is such a big deal if I miss a date.” Annoyed—that’s what he was, he was annoyed with me. But the feelings I had, were worse.

“Oh? So, that’s how you feel about it? You don’t care about our dates? The only thing you seem to care about is work.” My back was turned, I didn’t want him to see me cry.

“Are you fucking kidding me? The only—Wow. What is wrong with you?!” The level of his voice was rising—so was mine.

“What’s wrong with me?! You have missed five dates, Johnny!” I turned around in time to see his eyes rolling. “No calls, no text, no heads up! I would have been fine, but I stood for hours over the stove cooking your favorite meal! I had set the table all nice, I got your favorite wine, your favorite candles, and your favorite music! But you just didn’t show up—too busy dancing with your friends—leaving me alone!” Hands thrown up in the air, I moved into a corner of the room.

“Do you want to know what you sound like right now? You sound like a brat.” The word being spat out of his mouth. “You think I’m just singing and dancing all day?! I am working my ass off to make people happy! I work all day, and I just want to come home and sleep!” There it was, the guilt, beginning to build in my gut. “You knew what you signed up for going into this relationship, you knew that things weren’t going to be easy! But here you are, whining like a little bitch because I missed some dates!” The storm outside matched the storm inside, the loud rage was inescapable.

“What did you just call me? A Bitch? I—Ok.” I ran my hands through my hair, I was boiling now, nothing was going to stop the war he just laid out. “I do know what I signed up for! But when you’re in a relationship, things go both ways, Johnny! I don’t think you recognize that! When was the last time you planned a date? When was the last time you went out of your way to do something nice? When was the last time you showed me you cared? I don’t remember, and after all of this, I doubt you do.”

“Are we serious arguing over this?”

“Don’t change the subject!”

“We are seriously fighting over a date?! A DATE?!”

“ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION!” The windows rattled from the thunderous boom. The storm or the shout? That is something that will be unknown for the rest of time.

“What is this really about? Are you jealous? Are you jealous at the fact that I do something I love? Are you jealous because you work a meaningless desk job?” My mouth dropped. One of my biggest regrets was not pursuing what I wanted to in college, I did what my parents wanted and that was shared in secret with him. Late night talks, quiet whispers so no one in the world could hear our confessions.

“I can’t believe that’s what you think this is about! I know you love your job! I love seeing you happy because of it! I-I just can’t keep this up.” Tiredness just rolled over me as I was sitting down on the couch, and holding my head in my hands. The storm still raging outside.

“This?” He sneered.

“This! You! Coming here late every time you stay over! Dates spent here, your place, or some random restaurant at 10 at night! Not seeing you for weeks at a time! You’re never here anymore, Johnny! There’s always some excuse as to why you can’t come over. And sometimes there’s nothing at all!” The rain on the windows matched the tears on my face. “I’M SO LONELY, AND YOU DON’T EVEN CARE!” My chest heaves for a different reason as sobs echoed through the apartment. I spared a glance at him, the anger was gone, replaced with realization and sadness. His hands shook, eyes searching around the room, mouth slightly open, trying to find something—anything—to say. But the damage was done.

An eternity had passed, but only mere minutes had. One question weighed on my mine. One that needed to be said. One that could change everything.

“Do you even want this anymore?” My eyes shut, waiting for his response. But none came. When I opened them, he was standing in the doorway, mouth open, eyes frantic. With a sigh, I rose from the couch and headed to the door. I walked by him and when he didn’t say anything, I scoffed. I slipped my shoes on and unlocked the door.

“Wh-Where are you going?” He sounded so small. My baby—no, not anymore. He may not have answered the question, but his silence did.

“I don’t know.” It was like I took a backseat to the situation and I was now only watching it.

“When are you coming back?” Opening the door was the easiest and hardest thing I had done all night.

“I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry.” I hummed in response, slipping out the door.

I don’t know how long I walked for, but the moment I had stepped outside, I was soaked by the rain and guilt. It wasn’t cold though; it was surprisingly warm. I had shut my phone off after Johnny had left his 6th voicemail. I want to be alone, but my thoughts kept me company. The mind likes to bring up memories, I found, after a something like this. Mornings spent waking up to breakfast in bed with a loving kiss in between bites, soft pouts led to a forkful of food, and warm gazes fueled breakfast being forgotten for a little while. Beautiful flowers placed on my desk at work, with a dorky note attached to it; doorbells rang with deliveries of even more flowers when he was gone for months at a time. Date nights that came to an end with a slow dance in the living room as music circled us from some random playlist on his phone in his pocket, after a while, hands, and lips begin to wander, one pulling the other down the hall to the bedroom. Late nights shared in bed, hair slighted messed, hands tracing shapes onto skin, lips moving in hushed whispers, and eyes full of love. Sleepless, nightmare filled nights, glasses of water at my beckoned call, hugs were endless, and a soft voice always lulling me back to sleep.

As I sat on the curb of some random street, crying, these memories showed me that he did care. Love is shown and spoken in different ways, and I was so focused on the verbal, rather than the actions. God, I was so stupid. Last week, he had made me lunch for work, he even took the time to cut the fruits into hearts.

I raised my head up and looked towards the sky, rain hitting me in the face. I sighed, then reached into my pocket, and tried to turn on my phone, but a black screen stared back at me. This night couldn’t possibly even get worse. So, I stood up and tried to find a street sign to figure out where in the hell I was. I spotted one above a bookstore and figured that I was about a 30-minute walk away from my apartment. From the love of my life. Walking in soaking wet clothes and shoes in the rain is very much uncomfortable, but it had to be done to get back to my life.

Street after street I grew closer, after some wrong turns and a very nice lady who gave me directions, I was almost home. As I waited at a crosswalk, I heard something being called from across the street. But I ignored it, it was most likely nothing, just a random noise from the city. When the light changed, I heard it again, this time sounding like my name, growing louder. I made it across the street when I heard it clearly, this time I looked to where the sound was coming from. Combing the streets, I saw brown hair, a black long-sleeve, and track pants that fit just right. I started down the sidewalk, tears forming in my eyes, and a smile on my face. His back was to me when I met him, so I ran into him at full force engulfing him in a hug, starting to sob.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I was dumb and I know you love me.” He turned in my arms and wrapped his own around me. I looked up, his hair was wet, and his shirt was soaked. Tears fall down his face, his eyes sparkling. I raised a hand to his cheek, he pressed into the warmth, and I wiped away a tear, only for it to be replaced by the rain.

“I’m so, so sorry, Johnny.” He took my hand and kissed my palm. “I-I was being selfish and I didn’t see all that you did for me. Can you forgive me?”

“Always, Baby. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t loved, because I love you so much, and my heart broke when you said that.” He dropped his head into my neck as his shoulders shook with tears, his hands gripping the back of my shirt like I was going to disappear from his hold. “I let you down, you didn’t feel loved when all you were doing was giving me love. I wasn’t doing-I wasn’t being enough for you. I’m sorry.” He broke down, he’s sobs echoing into the night. We stayed like that, in the rain, until he started to hiccup, my hands soothing up and down his back when he calmed down. I took his face back into my hands and raised him so he could face me.

“Look at me, Handsome. Please look at me.” When he opened his eyes, they were sparkling and red. I brushed his wet hair out of his face and put a smile on mine.

“Johnny, you are enough for me. Mornings with breakfast in bed, surprise flowers when you’re away, lunches when your home, dances in the living room. You show me your love, and I appreciate everything you do for me.” I reach up to place kisses all over his face, making sure to cover every inch, I wanted him to feel my love.

Here we stood, in the rain, in the middle of the city, staring into each other’s eyes. His hand raises up to hold my face, and I hold my breath. He leans in, slowly I close the gap. I melt into him; his lips were soft against mine—there was no rush. We broke apart, with rain falling onto us, I break away from his arms, grabbed his hand and walked towards the apartment. In the light of the city, hand in hand, we felt the love for each other again—in that moment he became my everything, and I wouldn’t have traded it for the world.

Wander v.

The night was full of life during the walk we took in through the city. Lights glowing, shinning onto his beautiful face; with our hands entwined we made our way to some unknown destination. Papaya Acres Café. I laughed as I saw the café.

“Do you remember that day? The one where we met? I was a mess; I was surprised that you even had the balls to ask me out on a date after I rubbed my snot into your sweatshirt.” In the moment, it was probably one of the most embarrassing times of my life. Now, it is a funny memory that gets laughs when we tell people how we met.

“Of course, I did! It’s not every day you bump into an angel and make them cry, so I had to do something to make you smile again.” His hand squeezed mine as we entered the café, the bell chimed as he held the door open.

“Why, thank you, kind sir.” A curtsy.

“The pleasure is mine, my lady.” A bow. Followed by giggles.

“Welcome to Papaya Acres. What can I get for you?”

“Handsome, I’m going to the bathroom. Order for me?” With a nod, I turned and went into the bathroom. Soft jazz played through the green tiled room as I entered a stall. I wrung my hands into a paper towel and headed back into the café. Johnny was sitting at a table near the pick-up counter. My chaired squeaked when I pulled it back; wincing, I sat down.

“I missed you.” His lips pouted, face sitting in his hands, eyes soft.

“I was gone for like three minutes, Loser.” I laughed out.

“I always miss you when you aren’t around.” I pulled one of his hands from his face and held it in my own, comparing the size difference. I hummed as I laced our fingers together.

“I missed you too.” A playful smile appeared on my lips.

“Here is your order.” I looked over and saw three cups? Huh, that’s weird. Maybe Johnny wanted to try a new drink or something.

“Thank you. Have a good night.” He got up to pick up the drink tray, and I waited for him in the middle of the café. My hand got cold when he passed me my drink—I drink iced coffee, no matter the seasons—and his were now full with his two drinks. Putting my drink near his face, he took a sip from the yellow straw, humming in delight when he pulled away.

“You got two drinks? What kind did you get?” When he told me, neither of which was something that I was going to try; when one of us orders something, the other automatically gets to have a taste of it, it’s a rule we made after many meals were pouted over because no one would share.

Walking through the park down the street from the café, arms bumping as our laughs reverberated on the trees and buildings around us.

“My dad knew I liked beans. So, he was like playing with beans. Then he dropped it, and then he dropped a rock. And then it slid, and then hot water started falling. And then, coffee.”

“You actually think I believe that? Johnny, I’m not Mark.” I chuckled.

“Hey, don’t be mean to Mark.” He chuckled back. He walked over to a trash can and tossed mine and the cup he had been nursing away, leaving the untouched cup in his grasp. He, now having a free hand, connected in the middle, brought our clasped hands to his face and placed a gentle kiss on my knuckles, his fingers running over my ring finger—something he had only started doing recently, but I paid no mind. I looked at his face, and he wore a serious expression—his thinking face: eyebrows furrowed, and lips pursed.

“What are you thinking about, my love?” My free hand brushing away some hair that had fallen into his eyes. He sighed; a small smile played on his lips.

“I was thinking about how it would look if you had a ring right here.” He pressed on my ring finger. I laughed with a smile. He looked at me with wide eyes; I looked at the cup in his hand, he was shaking.

“Johnny? Honey, you’re shaking. Are you ok?” My hands cupping his face now, I searched for the reason for his sudden nerves. His eyes snap to mine as he takes my hands off his face, and he steps away. My heart is now in my throat, as my mind races to find out what was causing his anxiety. My hand, acting on its own, reaches out for him, but he only laughs with his head down.

“You are truly something different, you know? You are the reason I get out of bed now; there are days when I don’t want to go to work, days were I just want to give up, but then there you are with your cute little texts, cheering me on, notes left from the last time you were at the dorm. When practice runs long and I can’t give anymore, you pop into my head, and then I remember that tonight you are waiting for me to come home—so I push ten times harder.” He cleared his throat, and shook the cup in his hands, a dull rattle followed. He swallowed. “I know it isn’t easy being in a relationship with me, the dates, the secrecy, but you are always there.” He brought his hand up to push away hair that wasn’t there. “God, this is hard.” He whispered, his hand moving to run down his face.

“What’s hard?” He looks at me. He shook the cup again; the same rattle came from within it.

“I want you to be there.”

“What? I’m right here, Baby.” Now it was my turn to furrow my brows—in confusion.

“I want you to be with me. For as long as you’ll let me. I want to grow old with you; have kids, have a family—maybe a dog. I want to dance with you in our home when we have gray hair and wrinkles.” I get it now. He chuckles. “You are so beautiful, and I just want to wake up next to you every morning. I want to make breakfast with you, I want to go grocery shopping with you, I want to do puzzles with you—”

“I hate puzzles, Loser.”

“That’s beside the point, don’t interrupt—it’s rude. Where was I?” The rattle started again.

“You were listing things you wanted to do with me.”

“Oh, thank you.” He cleared his throat. “I want to sit with you in the living room and just spend the day reading, I want to take you out and have photoshoots that I can post for everyone to see. I want you, Baby. I’ve never wanted anything so much.” I smile and move to close the distance.

“Johnny Suh, are you asking me to marry you?” A rattle.

“Well, duh. But now you ruined it.” He whined.

“I didn’t ruin anything. Now, go ahead and ask me. Should I practice my surprised face first? Hold on, I need to warm up.” I started pulling faces with different sound effects and hand motions. He let out a long whine and stamped his feet a little.

“Stop,” He drug out, “This is serious.” I cleared my throat, wiped my hands on my legs, and pushed my hair out of my face.

“Of course,” Serious face, “Continue.”

“I love you with my whole heart, you never stop running through my mind, you are magnetic. And I can’t help but to be draw to you.” He popped the lid on the coffee cup and stuck his hand in, pulling something into his fist. Then he got down on one knee. “My love. Will you marry me?”

Remember when I said I don’t cry in public? Not only has this man made me a liar not once, or twice, but now three times. I guess, you could say that I wanted to make him sweat a little bit.

“Let me see…” I tapped a finger on my chin as I began to walk around him. Adding to the act, I hummed and muttered, nodding, and shaking my head. When I got in front of him, I covered his hands in mine and stared into his eyes.

“Of course.” I whispered. He jumped up, picked me up and spun me around. When he set me down, he took my hand and slipped the ring onto my finger. He kissed the ring, then me. There we were, in the park at 10 p.m., with our love in the air.

“I love you.” Were the words we whispered for the rest of our lives.

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Thank you for reading! I hope that you enjoyed it! Let me know what you thought!

I could possibly be interested in writing more of these if you guys like, doesn’t matter the length, member, or group. Just send in a word or words, member/group, and if you want it angsty or fluffly!

Thank you again!

#nct #nct 127 #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct johnny imagines #nct 127 johnny imagines #nct fluff #nct angst #johnny imagines #johnny suh imagines #johnny seo imagines

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imanativeofswlondondahling · 4 years

Text

Becoming A Stark (4) Peter Parker X Stark! FemReader

A/N: So this is the longest chapter I’ve written for this so far! And it’s one of my favorites. Also my mom surprised me with a Nintendo Switch to make up for the fact that I haven’t been allowed to leave the house since March so I’m hoping to get another chapter of this out this weekend but there’s also Animal Crossing now so.......... As always let me know your thoughts on this or if you want to be tagged whenever I post a new chapter!

Word Count: 8346

Warnings: Mention of drug and alcohol abuse, swearing I think

Chapter One || Previous Chapter || Master List

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” Tony’s voice is painted with the smile he wears as Pepper walks into the living room.

“You saw me two days ago.”

“Two days too long.” He says before kissing her cheek. “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

“That’s because this is just a stop. I’m not staying. I’m picking up Y/N.”

“You’re taking Y/N…?” He trails off in confusion.

“We’re going to get mani/pedis, do some back to school clothes shopping, and maybe get dinner. I want to get to know your daughter better.”

“She seems fine with hanging out with everyone except me.” Tony says dejectedly.

“You’re an acquired taste.” Pepper teases before placing a quick kiss on his lips. “Give her time. She hasn’t had even a week of having a father yet.”

“What time will you be back?” He asks, already knowing that he’ll have to fill his afternoon by himself.

“Six or seven maybe?” Tony glances at the Stark Phone that he’s actually started carrying with him now that it’s more personal. Natasha had snapped a picture of Y/N at, apparently, your favorite place in the whole city, which looks like a big book store. You’re not even looking at the camera, you’re carrying a ton of books and yet reaching for another one, but you’re smiling which is more than he can say for the past few days. When Natasha sent it to him, he immediately made it his background and lock screen. It may not have been a week, but you’re definitely becoming his world. “I’m going to see if she’s ready to go.”

You take one last look in the mirror, trying to decide if this is the outfit you want to be seen out in the world with famous Pepper Potts. Maybe you should change and dress up, but you’d rather be comfortable if you’re being honest. So instead of a dress or a romper, you’re in a pair of ripped denim shorts, a Rolling Stones t-shirt that you found at a thrift store a few months ago for so cheap but it’s in such good condition, and tie dyed high tops. You had thrown your hair into a ponytail with a red scrunchy only because the humidity was too much today. There’s a knock on the door. “Come in.” Jerk It Out by Caesars is playing over JARVIS, but he turns it down as Pepper walks into your room. You are in the middle of putting on the heart shaped pendant that Nana had given you for your thirteenth birthday as Pepper stands across your room.

“You ready to head out?” You glance back at the mirror once more time as you see Pepper in a red cocktail length dress.

“Do I need to dress up?” You ask, suddenly worried that your shorts and t-shirt won’t cut it in Pepper’s world.

“Honestly no. I probably should change. I came from a business lunch at this overly posh restaurant. If you’re good waiting like five minutes, I’ll go change.”

“Yeah I’ll be fine.” You grab a bag from your pile of bags, throw your wallet, a testing kit and then wander down to the kitchen to grab some low snacks.

“Rolling Stones?” Tony asks in mock surprise. “Couldn’t wear something like AC/DC or Black Sabbath? Have some taste if you’re really my daughter.”

“If you’re having doubts, I’ll go home to Nana and Pops.” You say as you throw the applesauce pouches in your purse.

“Nope. Not happening. I’ll forgive your subpar music taste, but we’ll get working on music education soon.” You just roll your eyes. You weren’t going to admit to him that you already listen to AC/DC a good chunk of the time and when in the right mood you listened to Black Sabbath.

“Y/N Miss Potts wants to know if you want her to grab you a pair of sandals for your pedicure.” JARVIS asks.

“I’ll grab a pair.” Turning to make your way back up the stairs, you walk back into your room. Grabbing the first pair of sandals you see. As you walk out your door, you see Pepper walking towards you in a loose white top, denim shorts, and a pair of sandals. “That’s the most laid back I think I’ve ever seen you.”

“That’s because you see me coming from SI most of the time and I have to dress up for that. But we’re going for comfy and casual now.” She smiles at you. “Did your dad see your shirt?”

“And give me crap for my subpar music taste? Yeah.”

“I had a feeling he might.”

“That’s why he’s not invited.” Pepper laughs.

“It’s not because we’re going shopping and for mani/pedis which he would be miserable at anyway?”

“That too. But still, if he hates on the Stones, he’s not invited.” Pepper lets out another laugh as the two of you walk back into the kitchen.

“What joke did I miss out on this time?” Tony asks.

“You had to be there.” You say instead of explaining.

“It’s nothing.” Pepper says, leaning over to place a kiss on his lips.

“I can’t tell if you’re corrupting her or the other way around.” Tony says as the two of you walk towards the elevator. “Maybe I should come along for supervision.”

“Bye Tony.” Pepper says, rolling her eyes before telling JARVIS to take them down to the garage. “So where do you normally go for back to school shopping?”

“Well we never had a ton of money, so Nana and I usually hit up the thrift stores. But I find great deals like this,” You motion to your shirt. “Four bucks and it’s basically brand new. Well as brand new as an old shirt can be.”

“Where are your favorite shops?”

“We’d go to Buffalo Exchange if we were looking for more like dresses and stuff. Like that one I wore to dinner I got at the Buffalo Exchange on the lower East Side. But there’s also a handful of good mom and pop thrift shops in Queens and Brooklyn if you’d rather head over that way. Bayside Thrift Shop is a good one in Queens or there’s Out of the Closet in Brooklyn.”

“Which one do you have better luck at?” Pepper asks as they walk to where Happy is waiting for them.

“I’ve always had great luck at Bayside.”

“So lets start there and then we can head to Buffalo Exchange before mani/pedis.” Pepper suggests.

“Where are we heading?” Happy asks as you and Pepper slide into the backseat.

“Bayside Thrift Shop in Queens.” Pepper turns to you. “Want to put some music on while we drive over?”

“Really?”

“Nothing you put on can be worse than what Tony puts on when he’s in a bad mood.” She says with a smile.

“Um ok. JARVIS can you play my June playlist?” You ask before he can list that you have a playlist called Tony Stark Can Rot. For some reason you feel like she wouldn’t like that as much.

“Certainly Y/N.” The first notes of Sweet Child O’ Mine by Guns N’ Roses start to play and you relax into the seat. If you had headphones in, it would feel like all the times that you, Betty, and Astrid had gone between Queens and the main island during the summer. The biggest difference was you weren’t crammed into the humid subway car and sitting to your right was your dad’s girlfriend, who was the farthest from the evil stepmother character from the thousands of books you read growing up. In fact, she is sweet and kind, someone you could find yourself loving easily.

You turn your head towards the window and focus on the passing sights of NYC as you head towards the area you had lived your whole life. You could point out the hospital you had been born at if you turned down the right streets. If you went up a few blocks you would pass your elementary school, your middle school, and the school you’d be starting at in a little over a week. Your whole life up until a few days ago centered on this area of New York. That bodega was the first one you had been able to run to on your own and that’s the street you take to go the back way to Betty’s old apartment. “Missing home?” Pepper asks, seeing you staring out the window with longing.

“This place is all I knew for the longest time. I spent more time in Queens than I did in Manhattan.” You say with a shrug, not wanting to sound ungrateful, but you miss home.

“You’ve gone through a lot this week. It’s ok to miss it.” Pepper’s hand rests on yours and gives it a little squeeze. “Queens can always be home, even if you’re living in Midtown.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever give Queens up.”

“Even when I’m in Malibu, I miss New York like crazy. It’s definitely home.” You listen to what Pepper’s saying as Happy turns the familiar path to head towards your favorite thrift store. He pulls into a lot across the way from the thrift store before getting out to open the door for you and Pepper. “Now, will you show me your favorite thrift shop?” Pepper asks.

“Easily. This place is meant to be shared.” You can’t help but smile as the three of you cross the street.

“What do you like the best about Bayside?”

“They tend to have a lot of graphic tees. Both of like the band variety but also just like sassy variety. And I could live in tees if I didn’t have to wear other clothes sometimes.” You admit as you open the door and hear the familiar chime. You see Anita at the counter as you walk in.

“Y/N! We thought we were going to miss you for back to school shopping.”

“Never! I have to come to Bayside.” You say, being completely honest.

“Where’s your Nana?”

“I brought my… Pepper this time.” You say motioning to your dad’s girlfriend, but not knowing how to introduce her.

“Well any friend of Y/N is a friend of ours. We thought you might be coming by, so I set a few things aside that you might be interested in.” Anita reaches behind the counter and pulls a stack of about four t-shirts out. Pepper watches as your face lights up. “We just got them in.” You lift the top couple up to look at the bottom couple.

“These are awesome!” The black and grey shirts look similar to things that Tony would wear, but Pepper keeps that to herself.

“I’ve got them. You keep looking.” Happy says as he takes the shirts from your hands.

“Happy, I can carry them-”

“It’s clothes, they’re not heavy. I’ve got it.”

“Thank you Happy.” Pepper trails a couple steps behind you as you finger through the shirts handing. The first to get pulled off the rack is a Nirvana shirt with a yellow smiley face on it. Then a blue tie dyed Pink Floyd 1973 tour shirt follows it.

“That’s one your dad can’t even try to say he was at. Three year olds weren’t allowed.” You roll your eyes, but you can’t help but smile at Pepper’s comment. You find another more classic looking Pink Floyd shirt hanging on the rack a few shirts back that you add to your pile.

“If I had been wearing that would he have said I had better music choices?”

“Probably. He’s just judgmental when it comes to music.”

“The Stones are classics!” You argue as your hands run through the racks to fall on a Sweet Child O’ Mine Shirt. “Oh this one is a winner.” It has a faded look to it and you love that in your shirts.

“Definitely so.” Pepper takes it from the rack and hands it to Happy. “To be fair to all your tastes, I think this one is needed though,” she says pulling another Rolling Stones shirt from the rack and you smile at it.

“They are my favorite.”

“Tony would die if he heard that.” You shrug. “Wanna try these on?” Pepper motions towards the pile that Happy is holding.

“Sure.” But then an Eagles Hotel California Tour 1977 shirt catches your eye. “One more for the road.” You say before snagging the shirt. You try on the shirts you had found before getting to the stack that Anita had put aside for you. You look at the four finally. The first was a grey Pink Floyd 1972 Carnegie Hall T-shirt?! Holy shit! Your mind might explode. Then there’s a black Aerosmith shirt with a boombox with wings that says ‘Let the Music Do The Talking’ which is such a big mood. Underneath that one there’s a black Nirvana Unplugged in NYC shirt which you have been looking for forever since you love that album. And last but not least there’s a classic looking Guns N’ Roses printed on black shirt in a gold font. Anita knows you well. Four of your favorite bands and to be honest four of your new favorite shirts. So far all of the shirts fit pretty well, or even fall on the large side which is how you like your t-shirts.

Pepper knocks on the fitting room door. “I found a couple things I think you’d like Y/N.” You open the door wearing the Guns N’ Roses shirt. “Oh I like that one.”

“Really?” You’re surprised that Pepper would be into band shirts.

“You think I could date your father and not be into what he considers some of the greatest musicians of our time?” Pepper smiles at you. “But also gold is just a good color for you and your skin tone.”

“I’m not going to be Iron Man at any point.”

“Wouldn’t want you to be. However I did grab these shirts because I think your dad’s reactions will be worth it.” You look at them and laugh.

“He’ll never let me leave the tower wearing them.”

“So wear them around the tower to bug him.” You close the door and try on the two shirts. The first is a tank top that you probably never would have looked at had all of this not happened. But Pepper was right. Tony would react to it, hopefully. Across the black fabric printed in white the shirt reads ‘I’m A Female’. Then in pink it reads ‘Fe = Iron, Male = Man” before finishing in white ‘Therefore I Am Iron Man’. You open the door to show Pepper.

“If I walked into the kitchen one day wearing this telling him I was going on a run, how much of a heart attack would I give him?” Pepper doesn’t have a chance to answer before Happy does.

“He will lock you in the tower. And possibly never let you leave.” Happy states, knowing how protective Tony is even after only knowing this kid for a few days.

“Worth it.” You and Pepper say with a teasing grin.

“Can I take a picture? That might be my favorite shirt so far.” Pepper asks. You nod and then, shocking even yourself, you throw your hand out in the standard Iron Man pose and Pepper snaps the photo. “I love it.” You smile and turn back into the dressing room before the flush takes over your face at the affection from your dad’s girlfriend. You shake your head, pushing the thoughts that want to invade your mind out of your head as you lift the last shirt up to change into it.

This one is grey and in white letters say ‘Screw Your “Lab Safety” I Want Superpowers”. Your dad was going to hate it for sure, knowing so many scientifically modified people. But you love it. Plus it’s so comfy. You roll the sleeves a bit and then open the door to show Pepper and Happy.

“He’s going to hate that one as well.” Happy says the moment he sees it.

“Or he’ll laugh and say show it to Steve.” Pepper says, cocking her head to one side. “Either way, we’re getting it.” In your head you know you shouldn’t buy all the shirts that you tried on, but even if you let Pepper pay for the two that she found, the remaining ones should only come up to about thirty dollars, and you think you have that much in your wallet. You collect all the clothes in the dressing room, which Happy immediately takes from you, and you follow Pepper and him towards check out when your eyes fall on the most beautiful jean jacket you’ve ever seen.

It was a medium wash jacket, that had been loved just enough that it was no longer stiff. It had some wear and tear in some spots, but it was loose enough that it would sit perfectly on you. You have to try it on. Pepper sees you debating about the jacket, but can’t figure out why you’re debating. “It’s a gorgeous jacket. Try it on.” You take it off the hanger, gently as if it was a child instead of a jacket, and slip it over your shoulders. Rolling the cuffs up a couple times so it didn’t hang over your hands you look down at the jacket, loving that it hits an inch or two below where your shorts do. “Now that is how a jean jacket should fit.” Pepper says, smiling that you found something you clearly loved on this trip. You slide it off your shoulders and the price catches your eyes. Yes, thrifting can be great, but the jacket is still fifty dollars even at the thrift store. You don’t have that much.

“I don’t need it.” You say, not wanting to bring up that you can’t afford it even if you did need it.

“I’m not taking no for an answer on that. A jacket that looks that perfect on you has to come home with you.” She places her hands gently on it and lifts it from your hands.

“Pepper, really I don’t-”

“Tony can afford it and it needs a good home.” Then it hits you, Pepper’s not going to make- no let you pay for any of this.

“You found many things today.” Anita says looking at the pile Happy and Pepper had made on the counter. “This is going to look the best on you.” She places a hand on the jacket that Pepper had added.

“She pulls it off like no one else.” Pepper agrees. Anita and Pepper chat about the weather and honestly you’re not sure what else because you just watch as the number climbs. You’ve been coming here for years and never seen the number go that high. Your heart falls into your gut when the jacket gets added. Looking in your purse, you know you have about forty dollars to your name and that wouldn’t cover even half of that right now. But Pepper hands over a black card, similar to the one that Natasha used the other day, and doesn’t even stop the conversation. It’s like this money thing doesn’t even bother her. But it definitely bothers you. Anita puts the clothes into a cloth bag and hands it to you.

“Thanks Anita.” You smile at her, but you don’t know when you’ll be back. All you’ll remember now is feeling uncomfortable for spending Tony’s money here. Happy opens the door and you follow Pepper out of the shop. Pepper is trying to make small talk but notices you looking nowhere but the ground. She takes the bag from you and hands it to Happy.

“Can you put this in the car?”

“But-”

“Five minutes?” She says. And technically, Pepper is his boss, so Happy nods.

“I’ll be right across the street.” She smiles as he walks across the street.

“So wanna talk about it?” She asks, bumping shoulders with you.

“Talk about what?”

“Why the ground is so interesting?” Pepper takes a pause trying to give you a chance to speak. “Or maybe about why you went so quiet in one of your favorite places?” Normally, you’d just keep it to yourself but for some reason, you don’t think Pepper will judge you.

“We, uh didn’t have a ton of money growing up. Whatever money we did have went to making sure we could afford rent and my insulin and making sure that there was food on the table. So once I was about eleven, some of the other people in our building would let me run errands for them or watch their younger kids and they would pay me some pocket money for doing it. And that pocket money I saved in a jar throughout the year so that once I could go back to school shopping and twice a year I could buy Nana and Pops something nice from Christmas and their birthdays. We didn’t really celebrate many holidays, but the ones we did we celebrated really small. Santa would bring me clothes while my friends would get touchpads and toys and I didn’t question it because I knew that while their families didn’t have to worry about whether or not you were going to have to choose between buying medicine you needed to live or putting food on the table.

But Nana and Pops tried to make it so I didn’t feel that. So when I got the chance to go to The Strand or Bayside, it wasn’t picking everything that caught your eye because I was the one paying for it. So I would buy one or two books or shirts because I couldn’t afford to spend all that money if I wanted to buy Christmas presents too.” You play with Queenie’s tubing, not wanting to look Pepper in the eyes as you continue. “But in the past three days, Natasha, Tony, you, whoever, have made it clear that Tony’s made of money and that he’s fine with spending it on books, phones, clothes, whatever he or anyone else wants. But there are people out there that aren’t that fortunate.

The money that Natasha spent buying me books the other day could have paid for my Nana’s medicine for a month. Or how much you just spent on clothing for me could have bought me clothing for the whole school year and bought Nana and Pops Christmas presents. Hell I looked up how much my new phone cost Tony and it could have paid for four months of insulin. That’s sixteen vials. But more importantly that’s nearly 1500 dollars. And I bet if I lost it, he would have a new one waiting for me.” Pepper lets you continue the rant, and doesn’t let you know that he added more upgrades to your phone than the baseline one that does indeed cost as much as your medicine does. But what she would rather talk about is why does your insulin cost that much? “You guys might not care about money, but it makes me sick every time that you drop this money on me. I’m not worth it.”

“First of all, you are definitely worth it and so much more. Tony has money just wasting away in the bank and likes to waste it on the people he loves. That means he’s going to drop money on you. But coming from the lifestyle you grew up in, it’s going to take some getting used to. Plus in his mind, he has fourteen years of Christmas presents and birthdays to make up for.” Pepper watches as your eyes go wide and knows that this might be the wrong thing to say. “But Tony is also up for doing things for charity. So maybe you can come up with an initiative that he can throw money towards for you. Like maybe fighting to lower the cost of insulin for others? Because while it’s not a problem now for you to afford it, why should it cost so much for others? Tony would definitely like to fight that. And that is something that SI can also get behind as well.” You look up for the first time since finding the jean jacket back in the shop.

“Really? SI would get behind something like that?” You ask, not understanding why a tech company would get behind something like the cost of insulin.

“Tony wants to look into manufacturing things to make diabetics' lives easier, which I told him he needs to talk to you about before doing anything. But your name is part of the company. You’re a Stark now. So anything that SI does, takes an interest in what you have an interest in. So yes, the cost of insulin is something that SI will fight for too. Help me do some research on who to support and we can start the battle as one of your first introductions to the world as Tony’s daughter?” You nod, knowing this is something you’ve always wanted to help with but never had the power to do anything about.

“Thank you.” You say, before doing something without thinking- you throw your arms around her. Her arms wrap around you, but she’s not sure what she’s being thanked for.

“What for?”

“Listening. Being here. Being human?” You say, joking about the last one, but it feels right.

“Of course. I don’t know how to be anything else.” She says and pulls on your ponytail a bit. “Now you want to show us around your neighborhood a bit before we head back to Manhattan?”

“You want to see it?” You ask, surprised that Pepper wants to see Queens.

“It’s part of what makes you you, so yes.” Happy finishes crossing the street to be back with the two of you.

“There’s a really great coffee shop up this way. Or if we go down this way there’s an amazing sandwich shop called Delmar’s. Oh and Pops goes to play chess at this park down that way.” You point out three different ways.

“Coffee sounds like a plan.” Pepper says. You drop your arms, not wanting to hold on to her longer than you’re allowed to but Pepper keeps an arm around your shoulder as you walk towards the coffee shop you love. It was always a treat when you got to go, but the smell alone was something you had missed. They make all their syrups from scratch and you could spend all day there reading if you were allowed.

As you walk, you point out the book shop where you sold the books you were done with to make some extra money, the apartment building that you, Nana, and Pops lived until there was a rat infestation, and the bodega that you used to go to to stock up on low supplies. You wave to some people that you know by face alone and smile at the feeling of being home. It feels nice to share this world with Pepper, and almost makes you wish Tony was here to show him what home feels like to you. It’s not throwing money around on things you don’t need. It’s the feeling of the sun on your skin as you walk around the streets you’ve known all your life.

At the coffee shop, Pepper buys you and Happy coffee, yours iced and his hot, as well as an iced tea for herself. “So I was thinking, we could go to Buffalo Exchange to try and find you some bottoms to go with the shirts we found for you, or maybe a dress or two? That way you have some clothes until the rest of your stuff gets moved from Queens?” You don’t say anything, but you know she’s right. You only have a few more sets of outfits and half of them aren’t appropriate for school. You force yourself to take a sip of your coffee as you nod your head. “We don’t have to Y/N. We can hold off.”

“No, we should. I don’t have that much stuff left at the tower and some of it is more wear at home type stuff.”

“Do you want to make a stop at your Nana and Pops house and get some more stuff?” Pepper asks.

“Can I?” You miss your Nana and Pops so much it hurts.

“Of course. Tony isn’t trying to keep you from them. And we’re already in the area.” You can’t stop the grin from exploding on your face. You know that Nana and Pops won’t have much more baggage you can put stuff in though so you turn to Marcie, who’s working at the counter.

“Hey Marcie, do you guys have any boxes that you haven’t broken down yet?”

“Actually yeah. We got shipments in this morning of some stuff. What size are you looking for?”

“Big enough to put some clothes and stuff in.”

“Ah moving apartments again?” Marcie had helped you with boxes when the rat situation happened. “Rats again?”

“Not rats, but something like that.” You say with a teasing smile. She walks to the back and grabs the couple bigger ones.

“Will these work?”

“Those are perfect!”

“You can have them on the condition that you still come and get coffee occasionally.”

“Deal! I’m going to go to MSST so I’ll still come by!”

“Then the boxes are all yours.” She hands them to you and Happy offers to take them from you. Marcie looks at him with confusion but you wave it off.

“Thanks Marcie!” You say before returning to the table where Pepper sits.

“I’ll bring the car up,” Happy says. “Be back in five minutes.”

“Thanks Happy.” Pepper says as Happy takes the boxes with him as he leaves the shop.

“You seem to know all the people at your favorite shops.” Pepper comments.

“New York is more like a small town when you think about it. We all go to the same businesses over and over again. Why shouldn’t we know the people who’s shops we frequent?” You shrug. “Plus Marcie is the best person to get boxes from when you have to move buildings. Then you don’t have to pay for them.” Pepper and you both drink your cold beverages as you sit waiting for Happy.

“Have you ever traveled anywhere?” Pepper asks, wanting to get to know you better. You shake your head.

“I’ve uh never left New York. We never really had the money.” You glance out the window. “I don’t even have a state ID, much less a passport.”

“Well we can get you an ID sweetheart, that’s easy. And knowing your dad, he’ll want to get you a passport since deciding to take last minute trips is one of his favorite things. But if you could go anywhere, where would you want to go?”

“You’re not going to like plan a trip, right? Because you’ve spent plenty-”

“Y/N, I just want to get to know you. Now if Tony asks you, I would answer on the bet that he wants to take you wherever you answer.”

“The kid in me wants to say Disney World because who doesn’t want to go. But I think the actual answer would be the Grand Canyon. I’ve always wanted to see if it’s as big as it looks in pictures. And the third choice would be London. So many writers lived there and I want to see what inspires them to write the way they do.” You look back at your coffee. “I’m not the best at picking just one place.”

“Never said you had too.” Pepper says, trying to catch your eyes. “I think all three are wonderful ideas. Maybe we should go there, but leave Tony at home to finish the deadlines he never touches.” You look up at her with surprised eyes. “Ok, maybe he can finish them before the trips and then come along because if I steal his kid for that long, I’ll never hear the end of it. He might take my job away for stealing you for that long, if it didn’t mean he would have to start doing work again.”

“Really?”

“You’re all he talks about these days. And I don’t see that stopping anytime soon. He’s not someone that’s easy to get to know. And I would say he’s definitely an acquired taste, but once he’s in your corner, having Tony Stark have your back is sometimes greater than having Iron Man. I hope you get to learn that. Because I know he desperately wants to show you how much he already loves you.”

“But he barely knows me.”

“There’s this thing about being a parent, so I’ve heard, where you love your kid so much from the moment they enter your life. That’s how he feels, and how he’s felt about you since the moment he saw you for the first time. Every night since you entered his life he said to me ‘God Pep, I didn’t know I could love a kid so much.’ And I don’t see that stopping anytime soon.”

“But I’ve kind of treated him like garbage?”

“And you think you’re the first teenager to ever say things to their parents like that? You have a better excuse than most though. Most aren’t thrust into having parents as late into life as you were, but you’re dealing with a lot. Most people also aren’t dealing with having Tony as a father. I give you props for that alone.”

“You’re the one dating him.”

“Yes but that’s different.” Happy pulls up outside the coffee shop. “Come on. We have all the time in the world to debate who has it worse in regards to Tony.” Pepper teases you. You turn and wave to Marcie.

“Bye Marcie!”

“Good luck with the move!” She waves before returning to the order she’s in the middle of taking. You follow Pepper towards the car and climb into the backseat. Happy drives you towards the apartment he had taken-picked you up from less than a week from.

“Would you feel more comfortable if I stay in the car?” Pepper asks as you pull up and Happy puts the car in park. If it was Tony, yes. But you like Pepper. You want her to see the place that you think of as home so you shake your head.

“Plus I want you to meet my Nana and Pops.” You swing the door open before Happy even has a chance to open the door for you. You’re too excited to see Nana and Pops. Usually you would just run up the six flights of stairs to the apartment, but you’re not going to subject Pepper and Happy to that just because you don’t want to wait for the slow elevator. So instead you bounce on the balls of your feet as you wait for the elevator. If not for your fear of elevators dropping, you would have continued bouncing the rest of the way up. But finally, finally, the elevator arrives and you count the three doors as you pass towards home. It’s weird to not have your key so you knock on the door.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” You hear your Pops voice and you could almost cry. He opens the door and you don’t wait a moment before flying into his arms. “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He pulls you away to say something, probably like ‘there’s no way you’re my granddaughter. You’ve gotten too big,’ but you push against his arms to wrap your arms around him again. “I’m right here. Not going anywhere. I got you.”

“Who’s at the door Lou?” Your Nana calls and it sounds just like coming home now.

“It’s me Nana.” You say even though the sound is muffled by your Pops’ chest.

“Is that you babydoll? What are you doing here?” Your Nana rounds the corner and then you're out of your Pops’ arms and into her’s.

“We’re sorry to just surprise you. But we were in the area and Y/N has been missing you.”

“Never apologize for bringing her ho- to visit.” Your Pops voice is a little rougher than normal. “You must be Pepper Potts.”

“Yes, nice to meet you. And this is Happy, or um Harold Hogan, our head of security.” In the back of your mind you place the fact that Happy’s real name is Harold of all things, but right now you’re too focused on the fact that you’re home. “Y/N also needs to get a few more clothes and things so Happy has some boxes for her to put some stuff in.”

“That’s fine. She’s always welcome to come and get things. This may not be as fancy as where she lives now, but it will never stop being her home.” Pops voice rings out and Pepper can feel that he’s not welcoming them in like he welcomes you.

“Pepper, will you come help me get the stuff in my room?” You ask. You know Pops probably isn’t happy with the way things are working out either, but leaving Happy, he can at least go over the security plan or something. Leaving Pepper seems just mean after how nice she’s been to you today.

“Sure honey.” Pepper smiles at you. She follows you down the hallway to the door where your name is printed in block letters on a piece of computer paper. “I like this.”

“Thanks, Betty made it for me.” You pull it off the door. “Do you think I can hang it on my door at the Tower?” Pepper nods.

“If you want to, I don’t see why you can’t.” You open the door and Pepper follows you into the room that is about a quarter of the size of your room at the Tower, yet feels more at home than the Tower. “So what is coming with this time?” Pepper knows that at least with most of the books and if you want any of the furniture, they are going to have to get a few men to move it.

“I’m thinking mostly clothing and maybe some of my books. Not all of them, but at least a few of them. Oh and there’s a blanket I’ve been missing.” You walk over to the dresser in the corner and open the bottom two drawers, which are filled with mostly distressed jeans and shorts. “All of these.” You say with a laugh.

“How about I work on putting those in this box while you get the blanket and pick out some books?” Pepper suggests. You shrug, it sounds like a good enough plan. Walking over to your shelf, you have to stop yourself from calling out to JARVIS to ask him to put on music and instead pull your phone and put on your playlist instead. Have you really gotten that used to living at the tower? Before you can get to the shelf, you spy the quilt you want sticking out from the under bed boxes.

You pull it out and hold it close. Part of you wants to unwrap it and drape it around your shoulders, but you know that you’d be wasting precious time doing that. So instead you trace your fingers over the different triangles of fabric. Pepper looks up and sees what you’re looking at. “Is this the blanket you were missing?” You nod and she comes to take a seat next to you on the twin bed that you grew up in. “It’s beautiful. Was it handmade?” Pepper asks, but doesn’t make a move to touch it since it’s clearly special to you.

“My, uh, mom made it.” With everything that has happened in the last week, Pepper hasn’t actually heard anything about your mom besides Tony talking about how your mom was a one night stand. “She was in a recovery program the first three months after I was born to try and get her recovered. Alcohol and drugs. Part of her recovery was making this quilt. Something to focus on as she went through withdrawal. It’s part of the reason I was placed with my grandparents. I was born two and a half months early and addicted to crack. So she wasn’t that fit of a parent. But they hoped that with rehab she would get better and come home. It, um, didn’t work like they hoped. She relapsed and they found her on the streets six months later dead of an overdose.” You don’t look up as you trace your favorite triangle, the peach colored one. “This is the only thing I have of her. I’d like to think she made it for me, but I think I know deep down, she only made it because the program made her.”

“She would have been lucky to know you.” Pepper says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“But she didn’t so…” You trail off. “But I have Nana and Pops. And I have Tony now. And I guess you and the Avengers too.”

“You got bonus family galore.” Pepper holds you close. “I got you and I’m not letting go.” She whispers into your hair as she places a kiss there.

“Thanks Pepper.” You lean into her side, before placing the quilt into the box at your feet. “I’m glad you got me.” You admit.

It doesn’t take much longer to pack up the clothes and books you want from the room you love. There’s still other things you’ll need to come back for, but you can do that another day. You have the things you need to get you through at least the beginning of school. Before you know it, Happy is taking the boxes down to the car and you’re wrapped up in your grandparents’ arms once again. “You’re welcome anytime babygirl. You have your key for that reason.” Your Nana says into your hair.

“I know Nana.”

“And if you need a break, you come on over. Being Stark’s daughter isn’t the end all be all.” Pops’ voice is aimed more at Pepper than at you, but you nod.

“I know Pop.” You kiss both their cheeks. “I love you both. So much.”

“We love you too babygirl. Always have, always will.” Your Nana runs a hand through your hair. “Get going. You probably have big fancy plans for the day.”

“Still the same girl you know.” You say as you walk towards where Pepper stands. You follow her towards the door, but take one more look at your grandparents before you both start making your way downstairs. As you get outside, Pepper looks at you.

“Do you want to do more thrifting and mani/pedis or you want to call it a day? You still have next weekend? We can always do more back to school stuff then.”

“Do you mind if we don’t? I’m kind of exhausted.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I did. Plus we can order food to the Tower and maybe watch a movie or something instead. Calm night instead.”

“That sounds awesome.” You say as Happy starts the drive back to the Tower. Going back to Manhattan took a little longer than normal, just because of the time of day. You scroll through social media, trying to take in your last day as Y/N Y/L/N. Tomorrow the news breaks about you being Tony’s daughter, so you’ll take the calm before the storm. Pepper is reading over things on her own phone, probably SI stuff if you had to guess. “Pepper?”

“Mmm-hmm?” She answers as she scrolls.

“Will the explosion from the news tomorrow be bad?” You ask before adding. “Like you dealt with when Tony announced he was Iron Man. Will this be that bad you think?” Pepper puts down her phone and looks at you.

“I don’t think this will be bad news. I think there will be questions, but that’s why SI has been putting together a lot of press packets for different situations. If the press tries to spin it in different ways, we will be ready. The most important thing we have stated in all of this, is that while Tony didn’t know about you until recently, he is very happy to be your father and he is doing everything in his power to provide the best home for you.” Pepper pauses looking for signs from you on which way you were feeling. “For now, how you feel about everything is going to stay silent because of your age and such, but eventually, if you feel up for it, we’d love to publish something about you and your dad together.”

“Why about me?”

“Because the public will want to know, but also because you are one day possibly going to be a face of SI. If that’s the path you wish to take. Again this isn’t a decision you have to make anytime soon. Right now, the focus is keeping you out of the press as much as possible.” Happy pulls into the garage as Pepper says all of this. “But I think the public is just going to be interested in learning about who you are because you are an extension of Tony and they like knowing about him.”

“I can understand that. But I don’t even feel like I know him all that well yet.”

“You will in time. I promise.” Pepper says as she walks with you towards the elevator you had left only a few hours earlier. You had grabbed the clothes from Bayside, but Happy said he would get the boxes and take them to your room for you. Upon arriving to the living room, Tony is surprisingly waiting for you and Pepper.

“My two favorite ladies, back already.”

“Finished early. Figured we could do a night in instead.” Pepper explains as Tony gives her a kiss on the cheek.

“Did you have a good day kiddo?” Tony looks towards you and you nod before turning to Pepper.

“Thanks Pepper.” You say before giving her a quick hug. “I had a lot of fun today.”

“Of course. I had fun with you too.” Pepper’s arms wrap around you, squeezing you back. And for a moment you can’t help but wonder if this is what it feels like to have a mom. Yours was out of your life moments after you were born. You let yourself relax in her arms for a moment before you feel Tony’s eyes on the two of you.

“Uh, I should go put these things away.” You pull away from Pepper and make your way towards your room, canvas bags in tow without saying anything to Tony.

“It’s not fair Pep.”

“What?”

“She hugs you.” Tony whines as he plops down on the couch. “All she does for me is make playlists called Tony Stark Can Rot. How is that fair?”

“Now how would you know what her playlists are called?”

“I asked JARVIS to play some of her music so I could know more about her since she refuses to hang out with me. He asked which playlist and started listing them. To be fair it has some great music on it. But still, I would never make a playlist called Y/N Stark Can Rot.”

“You don’t name your playlists.” Pepper points out.

“Not the point.”

“The point is you're jealous that she’s closing herself off to you.”

“Maybe I am. She’s my kid. I want to know her. I want to do everything for her and with her. But everything I try backfires.”

“So don’t try so hard.” Tony’s brows pull together as he looks up at Pepper. “You suggested her friends coming over for dinner and that worked really well.”

“Yeah worked really well in that she told me about a teacher that hated her enough to throw scissors at her.”

“She also acknowledged that you’re going to be here for her from now on. That’s a success. So try doing small things like that. Don’t make huge gestures. Don’t you dare buy her a gigantic bunny. Try to let her get to know you. And don’t try to buy your way into her life. She hates that.”

“You literally took her shopping today.”

“We went thrifting.”

“What? All of that needs to be washed immediately!” Tony starts freaking out.

“This right here?” Pepper motions towards him, “This is the kind of reaction that will push her farther away. She loves thrift shops. She told me and we went to her favorite ones to look for clothes. She opened up about her life before us Tony. That picture on your phone. That’s a moment she shared with Natasha. You need to give her a moment to open up to you.” Tony notices Happy walking by with a couple of boxes.

“What all did you buy her today?”

“We stopped by her grandparents’ house so she could pick up some more stuff. She mentioned she was getting low on some stuff.” Pepper motions towards what Happy is carrying. “She really misses them. I think we need to give her time to see them too.”

“I’m not keeping her from them.”

“I’m not saying you are. I’m saying I think we should schedule times so she doesn’t feel that way. Also I told her that SI would start a charity fund to fight the cost of insulin.”

“Not against that but why?”

“She was feeling really uncomfortable about how comfortable we all spend on a day to day, based on her background with money.” Pepper says, not really explaining.

“That tells me less than nothing.”

“It’s her story to share. You’ll have to wait until she wants to share it with you.” Pepper kisses his cheek. “But you have an amazing kid.”

“I know that. I just want to know her like all of you know her.” Tony says frustrated.

“Give her time.”

Permanent tag list: @wormonastringonastick

Becoming A Stark Tag list: @persephonehemingway @iamaunicorn4704 @furiouspockettoad @daughter-of-stark @eternalharry @huntective-kyeo @riiis-stuff

#peter parker #peter parker x stark!reader #Pepper Potts #peter parker x reader #peter parker fan fiction #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fan fic #peter parker fanfic #Tony Stark #tony stark can't be dead if you just don't let yourself believe it #tony stark daughter #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x daughter!you #imanativeofswlondondahling #becoming a stark?#happy hogan

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sej2020 · 3 years

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Arguing With Your Sister Pt 4

‘Your honour… approach the bench your honour?’ you asked having hung up the phone after listening to your voice mail.

‘Certainly’ said Judge Bath taking her seat.

‘Your honour I’m going to have to ask to recuse myself last minute’ you spoke honestly knowing that was in the best interest for the case you were handling.

‘Absolutely not, is this a tactic you cooked up with your Father should you tank your case’ snarled the defence attorney making you roll your eyes.

‘Your honour if you wouldn’t mind listening to my voice mail’ you said handing over the phone.

Waiting you watched Judge Bath’s facial expression change as she listened to the distressed message left by your Mother.

‘I’m so sorry, of course, this case is suspended allowing the new prosecuting attorney ample time to get up to speed’ said Judge Bath banging her gavel.

Leaving the court room, you dodged the victims confused families hurriedly leaving a message for the DA, informing about a need of replacement. Hailing a cab you rushed towards the hospital where your sister was in critical condition.

Arriving you rushed to the front desk, then following the nurses directions you found your Mother, Father, Brother and Grandma Lucia surrounded by the rest of the squad. Rushing over you immediately found yourself embraced into Lucia’s arms, gripping her just as hard you returned the embrace.

‘What’s going on?’ you asked breaking the embrace.

‘Lacy she got drunk, stole a car a drove it off a bridge’ said Barba pinching his nose.

‘What? I thought you weren’t having any more problems since I moved out three months ago’ you exclaimed shocked.

‘I didn’t think so either, until your grandma caught her sneaking in, then giving her one of her friendly tongue lashings’ said your Mother making you look at your Grandmother in shock.

‘Abuela this true?’ you asked still shocked.

‘Don’t you worry about me sweet child, I’ve dealt with much worse’ said Lucia stroking the side of your face.

‘How come the squads here?’ you asked taking a seat next to Michael who cuddled into your side as soon as you sat down.

‘Carisi and Amanda got the call, it was a professional favour’ said your Mother sitting on the other side of Michael.

‘Were you in court?’ asked Barba running a hand up and down his wife’s back.

‘Yes, literally got called in, lucky it was Judge Bath sitting’ you said stifling a yawn.

‘Very, you got a continuance?’ asked Barba.

‘No I recused myself, it was easier especially with the piece of scum that was on trial’ you sighed.

‘Councillor I’m going for coffee, you guys want any?’ called Carisi as Barba went to respond.

‘Please Sonny a large cup of coffee would be amazing’ you said smiling at the detective.

‘Are you sure handing it over was such a good idea, you’ve been on that case for months?’ asked Barba making your Mother roll her eyes at her husband.

‘Rafi, now is not the time, Y/N’s here for her sister not work, it can wait’ commented Lucia making you and your Mother chuckle at the red face your Father now held.

‘Mami, I was simply trying to help my daughter out’ sighed Barba.

‘And there is a time and place mijo’ said Lucia sitting down next to you and beginning to run her fingers through your hair, gently playing with it.

‘Here you are Y/N’ smiled Carisi handing you your coffee with a dimpled smile making you blush.

‘Thanks Sonny’ you said accepting the coffee and ignoring the piercing gaze Barba was shooting you both.

‘You’re welcome’ smiled Carisi before leaving to join the rest of the squad.

‘I’m looking for the Barba family’ called a doctor coming out into the waiting room.

Standing up you stood with your Mother and Father while Lucia stayed seated with Michael.

‘How is she?’ asked your Mother gripping ono your Fathers hand.

‘There was extensive damage, but we managed to repair it all and she should make a full recovery providing she completes the physiotherapy, your welcome to go in and see her, she should be fully awake from the aesthetic, room 22b’ said the Doctor.

‘Thanks Doc’ you said smiling softly as the Doctor left.

‘Mami, she’s in 22b’ said Barba turning to his Mother who stood with Michael holding his hand.

All of you minus the squad made your way down the hall and found 22b, walking in you were met with the sight of Lacy lead on the bed attached to heart monitors.

‘Oh Lacy how are you feeling?’ asked your Mother sitting next to the bed.

‘Like my bodies been ripped apart’ groaned Lacy as the rest sat around the bed while you stood by the door your arms over your chest.

‘You had us worried’ spoke Barba softly sitting on the other side stroking her face softly.

‘Didn’t mean too… what are you doing here?’ spat Lacy seeing you for the first time.

‘She came to see if you were alright Lac’ sighed your Mother sadly.

‘This is your fault, if you hadn’t of told Mami and Papi it could have been kept between us and I wouldn’t have drank again’ snarled Lacy making you roll your eyes.

‘You know what I’m done, I don’t care anymore, I paid your fucking bail, I got you out of a jail sentence and skipped court today to come see if you were alive, but you know what I don’t know why I bother, you can stay bed ridden for all I care, but the next time your stuck don’t come crying to me because I don’t want to hear it’ you snarled before leaving the room.

As you stormed by the squad you made your way to the elevator pushing the button furiously, closing your eyes you took a deep breath trying to keep the tears at bay that wanted to furiously escape your eyes.

‘Y/N, you ok?’ came Carisi’s voice making you open your eyes as the elevator arrived.

Stepping on you ignored Carisi joining you, pressing the button you leaned back into the wall of the elevator.

‘I’m fine Sonny’ you sighed as the lift closed.

‘It’s ok not to be Y/N, she’s your sister’ said Carisi standing next to you.

‘She hasn’t been my sister for months Sonny, I don’t even recognise her anymore’ you said sadly closing your eyes letting a couple of tears fall from your eyes.

‘Hey, hey come here’ said Carisi pulling you softly into his body, wrapping his arms around you as your tears fell down your cheeks rapidly.

‘Shh, you’re ok Y/N I got you’ whispered Carisi as he rubbed your back as you calmed down.

‘Thank you Sonny’ you said stepping away from the embrace wiping your cheeks.

‘You’re welcome, where you headed I’ll give you a ride’ said Carisi smiling gently.

‘Court, I have a case to win’ you said putting on a determined face.

‘Let’s go then’ smiled Carisi motioning for you to leave the elevator before him.

#rafael barba #rafael barba fanfiction #law and order special victims unit

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princessjungeun · 4 years

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Sick Days: Little! Yiren & CG! Aisha

Request: little!yiren and cg!aisha during sick days

Cw: crying

Heads up...this is long. Once again this is sfw age regression, it is not meant to be sexualized in any way, shape, or form. I don’t think I should have to put this but people on this app surprise me everyday. Please keep that in mind. But basically i’m just saying don’t be a creep :)

This is also my first time writing age regression so tell me if it’s something i should keep on my list of acceptable requests. If you hate it tell me so i’m not posting trash work pls 🥺

Today was just like any other day for Everglow, practice, practice, lunch, group conditioning, practice, and more conditioning. After Dun Dun promotions ended there was no breaks like there used to be, which was overwhelming for the group as a whole but specifically for Yiren.

Yiren usually handles her stress well, talking to her managers and staff when she needs help, calling her parents at night helps too. But sometimes when it becomes too much she regresses and as much as she hates it, it's inevitable. Today was one of those days.

“Ok guys let's run it one more time!" Jiwon instructed from the front of the practice room. The girls had been practicing since 8 am and it was now 6 pm, they were all exhausted especially Yiren. Her eyes burned when sweat dripped into them, blurring her vision. Her knees were bruised from dancing on the ground all day. Her muscles ached and her abdominals were on fire. She just wanted to go home, take a shower, and curl into Yoorim's arms.

In addition to this she had been trying to get over what she considered a cold for about a week. It progressively got worse but she didn’t think much of it, as this usually happened. It usually started out normal, got worse, then ended just like that.

But this was now becoming too much. She felt sick, her whole body ached and it was hard to breathe because of it. “Yiren-ah are you ok?" Mia poked the maknae in the side playfully. That was all it took for the Chinese girl to fall apart onto the floor.

Yiren collapsed into a ball and wailed loudly, Onda and Sihyeon stopped their side conversation immediately. Jiwon asked “what did you do? Eunji-ahhhh!” Mia responded “i’m sorry I didn’t know she’d start crying!”

The leader crouched next to the crying girl and asked “Yiren? Can you tell me what’s wrong?” I’m between sobs she choked out what sounded like Mandarin because it definitely wasn’t Korean. Jiwon’s eyes widened at the realization and looked around the room for Aisha.

“Where is Yoorim?” Jiwon asked her other members with a twinge of panic. Onda responded “I think she went to refill her water bottle downstairs.” Jiwon replied “ok um...we’re done for the day. Go back to the dorm. But in your way out tell Aisha I need her up here...Quickly please!” With that the three girls ran out of the practice room.

Jiwon turned back to the girl on the floor and crouched down next to her trying to get her to stop crying but it was no use. Aisha walked back in the room "why did you send them back ear-” The taller girl ran over and sat on the floor next to the little.

“Yiren-nie. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Aisha spoke softly trying her best not to overwhelm her. It was no luck though. Yiren wailed louder on the floor babbling incoherent Mandarin while choking on her tears. Jiwon responded from her spot on the floor "she's been really stressed recently, I think our schedule has been too much for her. And I think she’s still sick.” Aisha nodded and took a seat on the floor next to the crying girl.

"Yiren-nie look at me please." Aisha cooed to the smaller girl. The sobs slowly subsided as the little crawled into her caregiver’s arms. "What's wrong baby?" Aisha softly asked as Yiren responded in what seemed to be a mix of Mandarin and Korean "I don’t feel well.” The little’s tears once again started pouring down her cheeks.

Aisha passed Yiren to Jiwon quickly so she could get off the floor, once she was standing she placed the little on her hip and swayed lightly. This was a trick Aisha learned fairly early on that would ease Yiren enough so she could think of what to do next.

“You said she’s still sick right?” Aisha asked her leader. Jiwon nodded and said “yeah, it’s been like a week and a half almost. She was saying earlier she was having trouble breathing and she had that nasty cough last night.” Aisha looked at her unnie with fear in her eyes “you don’t think...?” Jiwon responded “I mean the second wave of it is still here. And she’s definitely forgotten a mask a few times.”

Aisha felt her heart drop but also simultaneously speed up. “O-Ok. Um ok. Can you call our manager, I’ll have them drive us to the hospital. We’ll both get tested there and you all can go tomorrow morning.” Jiwon nodded and went to call their manager while Aisha tried her best to soothe Yiren.

After ten minutes of swaying, walking, and bouncing Yiren around on her hip, Aisha was finally able to soothe the little. Jiwon checked her phone “ok our manager is downstairs, do you want me to come with you or head back to the dorm?” Aisha responded “it’s ok, you head back and can you explain to the other girls what’s going on...they don’t really know about this.”

It was no secret that Yiren regressed, but it also kind of was. Yiren was able to have enough control of her regression to only slip into this headspace around Aisha and Jiwon. Her other members knew something happened but they simply didn’t think of it that much.

Aisha pulled her sweatshirt over Yiren’s head and put the hood on as well. She gave the little a mask before guiding her head into the crook of her neck. At times like this Aisha was very grateful for so few people being in the Yuehua building. Even then, people throughout knew Aisha and Yiren had a close relationship. So even if someone did see Aisha carrying Yiren, it probably wouldn’t be a big deal.

The staff that was waiting was Yiren’s favorite manager. They remained quiet throughout the car ride enjoying the white noise the A/C gave off. It took longer than expected to get to the hospital that was offering the test Yiren needed. But Aisha realized there would be a very big problem in a few short minutes.

While some tests for the virus were done through swabbing the mouth, this hospital didn’t offer that one. This test involved a long stick that had to be shoved up your nose all the way back. Aisha knew she’d be fine with it but Yiren was another story, regressed or not.

Due to the potential of Yiren having the virus, a nurse came to the car in a white hazmat suit to do the test. Yiren wasn’t exactly fond of that either as when she’s regressed she only wants to be around those she knows and trusts.

Aisha decided she’d go first, maybe it would calm Yiren enough if she saw how her caregiver did it well. The nurse stuck the probe up Aisha’s nose and she did her best to not swear at her because to be honest she was being a little aggressive.

When the nurse went to the other side of the car Aisha knew she’d have to hold Yiren down and she was already regretting it. Her manager rolled the window down and the nurse went to stick the probe up Yiren’s nose.

It was at this moment Yiren realized this was not something she was ok with. Before she could swat away the nurse’s hand, she felt someone holding her down. Aisha with almost all her strength held Yiren’s hands down as the little screamed in panic. The nurse had to hold Yiren’s head in place as well, only adding to Yiren’s discomfort.

Aisha hated doing this and hearing Yiren scream stop over and over again wasn’t helping. She felt tears burn her eyes as she saw Yiren’s face get more red with every shriek. Aisha tried her best to not cave as she held her wrists down, her hands trembling. “I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry.” Aisha continuously told Yiren hoping she’d listen.

The second the nurse pulled it out of Yiren’s nose Aisha felt a wave of relief. “Your results will be given via phone call in 36 hours.” The nurse told Aisha and her manager. They both thanked her before rolling up the window and driving off.

Yiren’s tears continued to pour down her face, however her wailing subsided. Aisha tried to reach out for Yiren but the second her hands touched her, the little shrieked in fear. Aisha felt her heart break and she immediately texted Jiwon that Yiren would need to sleep with her tonight.

When they returned to the dorm, Jiwon was there, ready to pick Yiren up and take her to bed. Aisha thanked her manager and walked upstairs sadly, trying her best to hold back tears.

Aisha didn’t bother to see if Jiwon needed help with bathing Yiren or putting her to sleep. She knew Yiren would only starting kicking and screaming again.

Mia walked in her room and sat down next to Aisha who was trying her best to stop crying out of guilt. “Yoorim-ah, what’s wrong?” That was all it took for Aisha to fall apart in her unnies arms.

“We got tested but it was the one they stick up your nose. A-and I had to hold her down and it took so long because she kept moving. And she kept begging me to stop but I couldn’t or else she’d have to go through it again. And she hates me now- and I feel so bad.” Mia patted Aisha’s shoulder and said “It’ll be fine Yoorim-ah, you did what you had to do. I- just trust me she just needs a good nights sleep.” Mia hugged her before padding out of her room.

•

48 hours passed and Aisha anxiously awaited their test results. Her other members got tested as well but they’d find out the same time. In this time she at all costs avoided Yiren knowing the little probably hated her still.

When the phone rang she sprinted to answer it. She felt a weight lift off her chest when she heard they all tested negative. She went ahead and texted the group chat because she knew if she were to walk where they all were, she’d have to face Yiren.

She got a text back saying Yiren needed her nap and she wanted to sleep in her bed. Aisha couldn’t deny the little of her own bed, after all it was hers.

The door opened slowly and Yiren waddled in, thumb in her mouth. “S-Sha?” Aisha felt her heart melt and all she did was hold her arms out for Yiren to crawl into.

The little curled into her caregivers arms and Aisha said “baby i’m so sorry for what I did. I’m sorry.” Yiren turned around so she was facing her and curled closer into Aisha. Her fingers wrapped tightly around Aisha’s shirt, as if she was afraid to let go. Aisha kissed the little’s forehead and said softly “I love you baby”.

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