#but maybe he just thought eh. teenage angst. happens with every kid | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tendouluvr · 3 years

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not telling them you’re pregnant [2] - f!reader

- little angst, hurt/comfort??, fluff

- characters: iwaizumi, atsumu, kageyama

- warnings: pregnancy, cravings, morning sickness aka throwing up, some cursing, mentions of sex, “mad” iwa makes out with your neck, atsumu pretends to faint and reader jokes about him dying :0

- wc: 1.4k, 1.3k, 1.7k (jfc thats a lot)

a/n: thank u guys for all the love on the first part <333 ily all and ty to the nonnie that requested tsumu and kags

f!reader cuz pregnancy but no specific prns/gendered terms used

[1. suna, sakusa, semi]

IWAIZUMI

#! you were planning on telling iwaizumi the big news that night

#! you missed your cycle this month, thinking it was probably just late so you didn’t care and waited for one more week to pass before worrying

#! it was almost two weeks now, your period tracker repeatedly sending you notifications to remind you to log your monthly cycle

#! but you had no cycle to log

#! thinking that you should go buy some tests, you did just that and came home to see them all turn positive

#! you were in the kitchen cooking a quick dinner when iwaizumi came home

#! he entered your home mumbling under his breath about some kid while putting up his jacket and shoes

#! “welcome home, haji!” you greeted him from the kitchen

#! “hey.” he briefly said back making you turn around to look at him

#! “you alright? what happened?” you tried starting a conversation in hopes of getting his mind off of whatever it is that seems to be bothering him

#! “some fucking kids came into the gym today, acting all obnoxious, trying to taunt me and the team because they wanted to impress some girls who probably didn’t even know them. would’ve knocked them out if it wasn’t against the fucking law.” he harshly explained his day while looking through the fridge for his protein drink

#! you tried not to laugh, turning around so he couldn’t see your face and tightening your lips together to contain yourself, but it was so funny you couldn’t help but imagine it

#! iwaizumi heard the giggles coming from you causing him to roll his eyes, “what’s funny?”

#! “nothing, should’ve just knocked them out, babe.”

#! “yea? sounds like you want to start visiting me in jail,” he makes his way over to back hug you while you continued cooking at the stove, “well then, i’ll keep that in mind next time some dinky teenager get in my face, baby.” he mumbles against your neck before giving you a quick kiss there

#! “hajjj, i’m cooking. go be horny elsewhere!” your upper half shuddered when he continued making out with your neck

#! “whatever you say, your highness.” deep chuckles come from him while he lets go of you to walk to the bedroom

#! “don’t call me that!” his laugh getting louder at your exclamation

#! later that night, you both laid in bed on your sides staring out of the window in front of you

#! “hey haj,” your voice a gentle whisper as to not wake him up if he had already fell asleep

#! “hmm?” he hums from behind you, rough, warm hands under your shirt rubbing itself on your bare stomach

#! “do you ever want kids?”

#! he was silent as he thought about what to say to you

#! “i don’t if they’re just gonna turn out like those dicks from today.” his answer wasn’t meant to be taken too seriously, he just hoped you didn’t interpret that as him saying he doesn’t want kids at all

#! “so if they don’t?”

#! “.......sure.”

#! you noticed his hesitation before he gave you an answer, trying to ignore it so your brain didn’t start analyzing too much

#! “hm, ok. goodnight, haji.”

#! “goodnight, i love you.”

#! “love you too.”

#! you told yourself that you were gonna reveal the news to him that night, but seeing that he was worked up over those kids and his slight hesitation when he answered you made you change your mind at the last minute

#! you laid awake thinking about what to do while iwaizumi peacefully slept not knowing his hand was caressing his future child

#! a few days have passed and you were still thinking about when to tell him

#! should you just say it? how would you say it? “hey, i’m pregnant.�� no, that’s too blunt. “what if i told you i’m pregnant?” eh. “i’m preggo!” maybe.

#! you both never brought up the topic about having kids again ever since that night

#! but what you didn’t know was how occupied iwaizumi’s mind has been ever since you popped that question

#! he’s been imagining what it would be like to have a little him running around the house, maybe he’s a crybaby and dramatic like his uncle oikawa — who definitely would like to be the godfather, and he promises daily facetime calls everyday despite iwaizumi’s obvious displeasure — or perhaps he also finds entertainment in the godzilla franchise like his father

#! iwa thinks it would be neat to sometimes watch godzilla with someone else besides you, preferably his own kid

#! the night you asked him that question, it took him a while to answer because he couldn’t believe what he just heard. getting lost in his thoughts, he didn’t realize he forgot to answer you, giving you a quick, “sure.” once he came back to reality

#! you didn’t know this so you took his moment of silence as a sign of hesitation

#! the minor miscommunication causing you both to go into your own heads

#! you were currently looking in the full body mirror, observing the way your stomach looked and how much it’ll be changing soon to accommodate a living being inside you. your hands were moving around, curving itself against your stomach naturally when iwaizumi walked in on you

#! “babe, have you seen my hoodie? the black one, i think you were wearing it-,” his sentence cut off when he looked up from his phone

#! “what are you doing?” he asked seeing you pull your shirt back down

#! “looking at my stomach.”

#! “why? are you okay?” his voice softened at the second question wondering if you were feeling bad about yourself

#! “uh no, wait- yes, yea i’m okay. um, can i tell you something?”

#! before he could answer, you continued, “well, by tell i mean show. i have something to show you.”

#! “uh, yes? why are you so nervous?”

#! “ok, wait here.”

#! “babe-,” and you ran off leaving iwaizumi and the rest of his sentence in the room. a few seconds later, you came back holding something in your hand

#! “here.” grabbing his thick fingers to open his palm before stuffing the item into it. his eyebrows furrowed and he slowly unravels the piece of paper. you analyzed his face for any signs of anger or discontent while his eyes scanned the pictures from one corner to another

#! “w-what is..... you’re pregnant?” he whispered out, mind and body in shock as he stares at you wide-eyed

#! you nodded knowing that if you opened your mouth to talk you were probably going to cry. he falls onto the bed, sitting at the edge, then buries his head into his hands

#! “haji?” your voice lower than a whisper

#! he didn’t answer

#! but you saw it

#! you saw his shoulders starting to shake

#! “haj?” you tried again, this time lightly walking towards him

#! his cries became audible when he felt your smaller hands wrapping around his shoulders

#! “hey.. why are you crying?” you tried comforting him because it didn’t seem like his tears were going to stop any time soon

#! “shit, yn, fuck me.” he said through his cries

#! “oh?”

#! he rolled his eyes at your implying tone before grabbing you by the waist to lay his head on your chest. his breath staggered from crying, he was still crying just not as hard

#! one of your hand gently going through his hair while the other one rubs his back. the action soothing him enough to calm him down and eventually his tears stopped. “why didn’t you tell me?” his voice pouty and his sentence breaking between every other word

#! “i thought you didn’t want kids. i was scared.”

#! he raises his head so his chin is now resting on your chest, “why’d you think that?”

#! “you.. hesitated... when i asked you, remember?”

#! his eyes drifting to the side as he tries to think back on the last few days. you knew he remembered when his eyes slightly widened and his lips formed a small o, “i’m sorry, the question made me imagine things and i got lost in my train of thoughts that i forgot to answer you right away.”

#! “oh.”

#! “yea..”

#! “then, i’m sorry for assuming things and not telling you.”

#! “no, it’s not your fault.”

#! “it’s not yours either.”

#! “so.. truce?”

#! “idiot! why are we making a truce?!”

#! he giggles as he stuffs his face back into your chest but not before he bent down to give your stomach a loving kiss

ATSUMU

#! atsumu was huffing with his arms crossed across his chest, lip in a pout and eyes squinted as he focuses on the television in front of him

#! “stupid ‘samu and his stupid food. i don’t need it. if he doesn’t want to give me any, then i don’t need it. i can make my own food. stupid. stupid, stupid, stupid.” he childishly mumbled under his breath as his eyes squinted even more, shooting his glare directly at the television

#! “‘tsumu, can you come help me with this?” a voice called from the bedroom. your voice. his beautiful, lovely, awesome sweetheart

#! “c’ming.” he mumbles, slowly sliding off of the couch to trudge over to you

#! “hmm?” he hummed when he got to the entryway of your shared bedroom

#! “can you hold this up a bit, i need to get something in here.” you were in the walk-in closet organizing some things

#! he was happy to help, but you could tell from the way he was pouting and his eyebrows still furrowed that something was bothering him

#! you sighed, “what’s wrong?”

#! “nothin’.”

#! “‘tsumu....,” you gave him a knowing look

#! he was gonna have to tell you at some point, “‘samu, that food hogging pig!”

#! “oh, hey! don’t call him that! it’s mean.”

#! “dun care, his fault for not sharing. our mom taught us better than that.”

#! “you don’t share, get off his back.”

#! “i do!! why are ya siding with him?! i’m yer boyfriend! yer sweet, loving, ethereal boyfriend!”

#! you raised an eyebrow at the way he described himself, “y’sure ‘bout that?”

#! his mouth opens as if he was going to gasp but no sound came out, he just pretended to faint

#! “oh no, did you die?”

#! no answer

#! “about time, thought i was gonna have to endure it for a few more years.”

#! “hey!!” he bounced back up when he heard you say that ridiculously offensive comment

#! “fine, i’ll leave then. don’t come running back to me when ya miss yer oh so handsome future husband.”

#! you snorted before going back to organizing the closet, “hold this for me, please.”

#! he groaned from the back of his throat but went over to help you anyway

#! recently, the twins’ mom gave you guys some boxes of clothes she had put away for some time. not wanting to throw them away, she gave it to you guys and osamu to take whatever you could

#! while looking through the boxes, you dug up some baby clothes that belonged to atsumu

#! “oh my god.”

#! he swings his head over to look at you, “what? hey! that’s mine!”

#! “it’s so ugly.”

#! “i’m telling my mom you said that. she’s gonna hate you sooooo much.”

#! “‘tsum, she set you up.”

#! he faked a wail and then turned back around to ignore you

#! “y’think we can keep some?”

#! “what for?”

#! “i don’t know..what if we have kids later?”

#! “that sounds nice...but we might have twins. i don’t want that.”

#! “huh? you can’t control who and how many we get, ‘tsumu.”

#! “then, let’s not risk it!”

#! “so, you don’t want kids?”

#! “precisely, yah.”

#! you stared incredulously at him while he continued sorting through stuff like he didn’t just tell you he made up his mind on not wanting kids

#! you found out two days ago that you’re pregnant, not yet telling atsumu because you just couldn’t find the right time to sit him down and talk

#! you didn’t expect to find out now that he for sure didn’t want kids. you guys talked about it a few times throughout the years of being together, but he never gave a definite answer

#! it was usually just him teasing you, or he was running around the answer. you never pushed him to answer, you didn’t want to pressure him or anything of that sort

#! “good to know, i’ll keep that in mind.” you mumbled, distracting yourself with folding the clothes

#! atsumu gave you a hum to acknowledge your words. no one says anything after that

#! a few days passed and the topic wasn’t brought up again. you secretly stashed some of the baby clothes while cleaning, the baby was gonna come at some point whether atsumu wanted it or not

#! but what you didn’t know was that he kept a stash of the baby clothes as well. he cleared out a space in his sock drawers by stuffing everything to one side, placing a stack of clothes inside because deep down he knew that there was going to be a mini him one day

#! it was currently morning, you both having the day off so you slept in. your back was curved to mold against his well defined chest while you slept. atsumu was snoring but you learned to block it out over time (he claimed you snore as well, but was never successful on proving it)

#! your eyes shot open, feeling the familiar bile crawling up your throat threatening to come out without your permission

#! quickly throwing the arm that was wrapped around you off, you ran towards the connected bathroom

#! your disappearance making atsumu’s sleepy eyes blink open, “babe? it’s still early.” his rough morning voice whispering out because it wasn’t capable of being louder than that in the morning

#! he heard the gagging noises from the restroom, eyes shooting wide awake in concern. he trips over the comforter trying to get out of bed, hurriedly running to you

#! atsumu acted fast and was holding your hair back, warm palms rubbing circles on your back. he wasn’t sure what to say, choosing to stay silent until you were finished

#! you wiped your mouth with the back of your palm, gasping for air over the toilet seat, reaching out to hold the hand that was on your back, you whispered out an, “i’m pregnant.”

#! initially he didn’t hear you, but once he heard it in his head he gasped. “how long?”

#! “not sure, almost a month?” your voice rough from throwing up

#! atsumu was confused. eyes darting everywhere, not really sure where to exactly focus on. his mind was racing, trying to think of why he didn’t know anything for so long, “ya didn’t tell me?”

#! “how could i when you said you don’t want kids?”

#! “i’m...oh..sorry, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean for it to be taken too seriously. i only said that because of the thing with ‘samu so i thought ya could tell it was a joke.”

#! “no ‘tsumu, i couldn’t. i was already pregnant at that point and hearing you say that about having kids really affected me. i didn’t know how to tell you after you specifically said to not risk anything, how was i suppose to know it was meant to be a joke?” your voice still groggy and tears were building up in your eyes.

#! he lightly sighs then brings his hand up to cup your head, rubbing it to calm you down. “i’m so sorry, angel. i do want kids, specifically with ya. what i said was a bit dicky, but i was just being immature, i promise. i won’t joke about serious things like that again, i’m sorry.”

#! you sniffed and brought his hand up to kiss him on the palm, but he quickly yanked it away making you look up at him in shock. “ya just threw up.” he pointed to the toilet.

#! you laughed at that and quickly apologized, he carried you up so you both can stand up from the bathroom floor. atsumu gently washing your hands and around your mouth, then you swishing some water in your mouth to get rid of the throw up aftertaste

#! “wanna know a secret, babe?” he blurted out while helping you walk back to the bed

#! “what?”

#! “i kept some of the baby clothes.” a shy smile on his face as he winks at you from the side

KAGEYAMA

#! you’ve been feeling a bit sluggish lately, you weren’t sure why because it came out of nowhere

#! you decided to ignore it, but as time passes, you didn’t get any better and you even started to throw up

#! thinking back to the talk your mom gave you when you were 10, you went out to buy some pregnancy tests

#! the timeline made sense, the last time you both had sex was a few weeks ago

#! kageyama’s been caught up with practice, you were stressed, so naturally you both thought it was a good idea to let it out

#! but what you didn’t expect was having to buy pregnancy tests because there was a possibility you’re pregnant

#! granted there wasn’t any protection used and you stopped taking your pills a while ago because you guys just didn’t care anymore, so nevermind, you do see how you could be pregnant

#! but damn, one time. all it took was one time

#! shaking your head, you took your phone out to text kageyama

#! you’re not telling him over text, just letting him know you have something to tell him tonight so he can know to prepare for a talk

#! you: tobiii

#! you: i have something to tell you

#! you: tonight tho

#! you: after you come home

#! him: ok love

#! while waiting for him to come home, you lazed around and scrolled through social media for a bit. checking twitter, you were reading some tweets from kageyama’s fans, finding some funny, some adorable, and some just...weird

#! but one tweet you saw was from someone who had met kageyama at one of his previous games. the person was talking about their experience getting to meet him and they even wrote out a part of the conversation they had with kageyama

#! kageyama’s gf (real) @K4G3B10 tweeted: omfg i just met kageyama fucking tobiiosdfjdf

#! it was a thread so you clicked on it to continue reading

#! kageyama’s gf (real) @K4G3B10 tweeted: he’s so sighs dreamily

#! kageyama’s gf (real) @K4G3B10 tweeted: so fucking tall. i’m 5′3 and mans all the way up there 👆

#! kageyama’s gf (real) @K4G3B10 tweeted: OH OMH wait lemme type out one part of our convo omfg i think he has a partner?????? like an actual s/o guys not me

#! kageyama’s gf (real) @K4G3B10 tweeted: ok i asked him smtg along the lines of what he thought abt having so many fans who are children ykk bc i was thinking he knew i was implying that these kids look up to him and stuff

#! kageyama’s gf (real) @K4G3B10 tweeted: but this man.....is so...UNAWARE why is he like this but he said smtg like he doesnt understand how kids can be fans of him bc how can they understand professional volleyball like that and i was like ???mf didn’t u grow up playing vball

#! kageyama’s gf (real) @K4G3B10 tweeted: so i was like oh ok :D and then asked him abt his thoughts on his future kids following in his footsteps bc i was thinking his answer would be wholesome or some shit

#! kageyama’s gf (real) @K4G3B10 tweeted: he told me,,,,, i dont have kids and i dont want any... !!!! why does mr kagman not want kids w me :(( /j

#! kageyama’s gf (real) @K4G3B10 tweeted: ok so like all of this happened v quickly i was like in and out in 10 seconds lmao but WAIT after he said he doesnt want kids i saw him scrunching his face up

#! kageyama’s gf (real) @K4G3B10 tweeted: im not mind reader nor body language reader but idk he looked .. hrm sad?? FUCK IDK DONT TAKE M E SERIOUSLY IM DELUSIONAL

#! being an adult, you knew you shouldn’t be taking twitter threads of his teenage fans too seriously but you couldn’t help but reread the part where he said he didn’t want kids

#! did he actually say that or is this person rewording what he said? you now realized how you guys never really talked about having kids

#! sure, it was brought up once or twice but it was just because you were having baby fever. kageyama himself never directly told you he wanted kids or he was fine with having kids of his own

#! you sighed to yourself as you lock your phone, closing your eyes to take a nap until kageyama comes home

#! you felt yourself being shaken awake lightly, a familiar presence hovering over you on the couch made you open an eye

#! “tobio?”

#! “who else would it be?”

#! “i don’t know, a murderer?”

#! he scoffs at the slim chance of a someone breaking in to hurt you, but quickly turned his attention back to you when he remembered you wanted to talk

#! “so what’d you wanted to tell me?”

#! “oh, can you sit down?”

#! “o..kay?” he stiffly walked to sit beside you on the couch

#! “i’m uh,” think of something, “honestly, i forgot. yea, i forgot what i was gonna tell you. sorry.”

#! he raises one eyebrow to gaze at you curiously

#! “are you sure? it sounded important when you texted me.”

#! “mhm! yup, i forgot. sorry if i worried you, heh, are you hungry? there’s leftovers we can heat up.” you quickly tried to change the subject, getting up to walk to the kitchen

#! luckily your boyfriend didn’t question it further and got up to trail right behind you

#! you figured giving yourself some time before telling him after what you read was a good idea

#! are you aware that you were overthinking some tweet by a stranger on the app that is twitter? yes, you were. but you’re also human and overthinking is in human’s nature

#! it’s been three weeks and you still haven’t told kageyama the news. a part of you was ready to tell him, just let him know and you guys talk it out, what’s the worst that could happen

#! but the other part of you was scared. scared he actually didn’t want kids. scared he was going to leave you because going through with the pregnancy would drag him down. scared he would get mad at you for not being more careful when he was equally at fault

#! you know how kageyama gets when his emotions get complicated, he can’t deal with it so his one outlet is anger

#! he has no filter and says whatever comes to mind, all logical thinking leaving his brain

#! and that part of you is the stronger one

#! obviously you were going to tell him at some point, it’s not like you can literally hide the growing baby inside you

#! just not yet, not until you’re ready

#! you’re currently a little over a month, bump not really showing, but it’s there and it’s growing

#! kageyama can be a bit dim when it comes to.. most things beside volleyball, and usually you tease him about it but for once you thank whatever god is out there that he hasn’t noticed any big changes on your body yet

#! that was until you were showering, and he made the decision to enter the shower with you without your knowledge

#! humming to yourself while scrubbing your arms, you scooted back away from the water so it wouldn’t wash off the body wash you were trying to use

#! the action causing you to lightly hit kageyama’s chest making you jump from where you were standing

#! “tobio!” you screamed, turning around to throw the foamed body wash at him

#! he chuckles at your surprised expression and didn’t mind the soap you threw onto him, which was now sticking to his defined chest

#! “why were you just standing there, creep?”

#! he was still giggling when he answered you, “did i scare you this time?”

#! “what do you think?” you lightheartedly roll your eyes before going back to scrubbing your body

#! he picked the loofah out of your hand to continue for you

#! you both enjoyed the relaxing sound of running water and quiet echoed hums as he takes his time washing you when he suddenly stopped

#! opening your eyes, you looked up at him, “what’s wrong?”

#! he was just staring at you, blinking very slowly

#! “why do you look- your stomach feels- you look very-,” he sighs, “you look pregnant.”

#! now it was your turn to blink at him

#! you totally forgot that you were naked at the moment and he could easily see every inch of your body

#! blinking once more, you took a deep breath before telling him, “that’s ‘cuz i am.”

#! “y-you are?!” he jumped from his spot

#! “yea.. do you have a problem with that?”

#! “i...why didn’t you tell me?”

#! “do you have a problem with that?” you repeated

#! “n-no..so why didn’t you tell me?”

#! “you’re not mad?”

#! “why would i...?” his voice slightly turning high pitched as he dragged the i out

#! “i thought you didn’t want kids.”

#! “who told you that? when did i say that?”

#! “twitter.” you murmured under your breath

#! “what?”

#! “twitter..” you said a bit louder, still murmuring and choosing to turn away from him

#! “twitter?! why didn’t you just tell me, your real life boyfriend?”

#! “because!.... i was scared.”

#! “s-scared? baby, why?”

#! “i was scared you were going to leave. i don’t want you to leave. that night i told you i had something to tell you, that was when i found out. i backed out when you came home and i’m sorry. i should’ve just told you, i’m sorry, tobio-,” you were crying at this point, both of you standing under the water

#! “shh, shh, it’s okay. i’m sorry for not noticing earlier. you’re alright, babe. it’s okay. it’s okay to not feel ready, you don’t have to feel pressured to tell me anything, alright? whenever you’re ready, you tell me,” you meekly nodded as he pulls you into a hug, “whenever you’re ready..”

#! you both stood hugging each other’s bare body for a few minutes under the warm water

#! “that was probably the smartest thing you’ve ever said, tobi.” your voice sounding congested from the crying

#! “hey. mean.”

1K notes · View notes

rrasado · 3 years

Note

Yo! If that's okay could i request the brothers (or some of the of your choice) reacting to a teen mc who already has a pact with a demon long before coming to the Devildom and this demon is pretty much their (very protective) guardian/caretaker? Like, the demon is really sweet and gentle with MC and babies them constantly but they're wary of the brothers (Nothing romantic, just platonic hcs!) Feel free to ignore if i'm bothering you!

Congrats on the 400 followers!!💞

Who’s The Guardian?

On another episode of “why didn’t I see this in my inbox before-“ but this is such a cute request.

I...haven’t played OMSWD in half a year ;-;. I never got past lesson 40 so, sorry in advanced for the OOC-

When you already have a pact

Lucifer

...is caught off guard, big time.

He probably skimmed through your files and records but not once did the thought of a seemingly innocent teenager already having a pact with a demon prior the exchange program crossed his mind.

That’s coming from someone who overthinks a lot.

As the so called right hand man of the young lord himself, he’ll want to conduct a thorough investigation on whoever this demon is. He can’t risk sullying the honor of Diavolo because of some minor slip up.

Under the guise of a friendly get together he asks MC to invite their demon pact mate over for a nice afternoon tea. Harmless correct? Well that -less becomes -ful when the demon immediate smothers their favorite human with such rare affections he didn’t knew demons were capable of.

He’ll attempt to be discreet about his intentions but, it seems the demon is more vocal about their displeasure of finding out that their dear human is living with seven of the most powerful demons in hell. So lucifer would blatantly put on a facade to keep the dignity of the council and the prince at peace. But if it were up to him...

“We all care for the human’s well being yes? A little cooperation is to be called for”

Mammon

...Feels betrayed. And disappointed

He...wasn’t MC’s first- oh god the others are laughing at him as we speak aren’t they.

Would probably try to not so discreetly compare himself to the demon, arms crossed™️

Is that why MC was so fast in making a pact with him? Like no fear whatsoever because they’ve already done this before? Now he feels dumber than before

It all ultimately ends with..the demon and mammon trying to out do each other when it comes to spoiling Mc whether material wise or affection, of course mammon is at a disadvantage given how much he denies his concern for not being Mc’s first.

But in the end, if anything bad no matter how small happens to the two demon’s beloved human, they’d probably set aside their differences and hunt down the source. It’s a whole other story if the source was mammon-

“Oi the human also has a pact with me Ya got that!”

Leviathan

...is both amazed and disdained.

On one hand- HOLY SHI- YOU’RE YOUNGER THAN MOST SUMMONERS AND YOU ALREADY HAVE A PACT? THAT’S SO SHOUNEN-

And on the other hand- wow...you’re such a normie for being able to pull in other races, what in the name of damned friendship is this-

But that disdain turns to envy, whether envying you or the demon sometimes it’s interchangeable- because he wished he was also that cared for. Being able to be brought gifts or being protective over- it’s the otome dream he’s secretly wanted.

But once he realizes that the demon just genuinely cares for MC, for whatever reason- he seems to understand along the way, maybe he to wishes to protect one of the few people that willingly put up with him with a wild smile. Teen mutuality huh.

He might even invite their demon pact mate over for a game or two- heck if things go well they three might even become a triumvirate. Overall he’ll learn to get along with them but...it’ll take a good while djdndnbd.

“H-hey...ya sure you wanna hang out with someone as yucky as me? Ah- wait I have games for three here somewhere.”

Satan

...Is highly intrigued suffice it to say.

The guy was highly enthralled when you managed to even make a pact with him through hard work and it seems there was a much farther history as to why.

Unlike the first born however, he’d be actually successful in hiding his true intentions when he decided to investigate whoever demon managed to wind up with the young human in the first place.

Those detective novels did him good Huh-

On a more serious note. He’d actually be encouraging to a certain extent until the demon directs their threats to him. Like how dare this lowly bastard make a point to the Avatar sin of Wrath- oh it was for MC’s sake...hard pass-

At one point he’s probably the closest to this demon in terms of peace next to Beelzebub since he’s the most serene of the brothers. Overall neutral to them unless the demon gives him a reason to.

“It’s nice to see the human having someone to lean on to...I wonder what would happen if that support were to suddenly collapse”

Asmodeus

...is sappy to the brim

Look at the lovely human already catching demons with finesse! Proud wine aunt moment™️. And the fact that it was prior to the program? Damn the kid has more potential than he thought.

At first the demon themself is gonna- Ehe carry MC away everytime asmo ties coming in but. With a little nudge and convincing they’d probably stay to listen to Asmo.

Trust me when I say these three will go shopping every weekend once everyone is comfortable with each other. And for what it’s worth they might even get matching outfits.

Asmo would probably try and nitpick how MC even managed to wind up in a pact with a demon without knowledge of the Devildom in the first place but at the same time he thinks it adds to the younger’s charm

These three end up being the child the mom and wine aunt dynamic and y’all can’t convince me otherwise.

“Ehh~? Oh don’t look so weary it’s bad for your face darling~”

Beelzebub

...For some reason happy.

Is this why MC managed to make a pact with his brothers so easily in so little time? Is this why the teen never seems to be bothered by any of his brothers’ threats? Overall he’s happy that you have experience.

He remembers something oddly like this...but in his case he didn’t had experience prior the fall wow way to go at angsting this am I right-

Because unlike him, a being millennia old was so confused of what’s in store for hell after the fall but he had no choice but to grit his teeth and bare the fear.

And someone so young managed to get a taste of a fraction of that experience but here was MC...laughing without a care whilst this other demon places a protective arm in front of them as they interrogate beel- oh wait they were talking to him-

Food as peace offering? You bet, thankfully they did settle with food and unlike first impressions- the demon actually is the most sensible to beel seeing as he was one of the few who...didn’t actively attempt to kill their human- in fact, the demon is probably the one to inform Beel of what demon food the young teen can actually eat and what they prefer.

“I see...ah, would you maybe wanna join us? Food always tastes better when shared”

Belphegor

...could care less until they talk about the whole time universe killing thing-

Ohhh boy- belphie run I’m telling you run- no beel won’t defend you on this one in fact I think I see mammon running with the demon but belphie run boy run-

In all seriousness him and the demon will take the longest to get into terms. Heck not even Mc’s convincing has effect, because the demon really really doesn’t like the avatar of sloth for good reason.

Depending on how the demon even winded up with MC. Belphie would also not like the demon.

That...is until something actually bad happens to MC-

The demon might blindly pin it on belphie but the thing is- he’s also panicking because if he and his brothers were there and the demon was there- wHO TF IS WITH THE TEENAGER-

He...didnt want to have what he did to MC happen again. Let him be the last one to harm the spunky human. I even considered him and the demon to never actually get along no matter how long of a time but...again it all depends on the Hows and Whys.

“I...Care for them as much as you do. Just- Tsk... I don’t need you to believe me.”

230 notes · View notes

multifandomwriter56 · 4 years

Text

Devilment Mustn’t Win

A/N: I know, another Shelby!Reader; but I just love writing them. Hope you like it. Also, I got the title idea from S1E1 when Polly tells Tommy she sees his mother’s common sense and his father’s devilment fighting each other.

Summary: Y/n runs away to her sister’s to get away from Tommy. Her plan to get away from her brother doesn’t even last a full twenty four hours.

Characters: Ada Shelby (Thorne), Tommy Shelby, Shelby!Reader, Karl Thorne

Warnings: language, angst, spoilers for the beginning of s3 even though this is set about a year or more after that

Word Count: 2,430

Y/n slowly opens the front door of her sister's home. She tiptoes through the hallway, hoping Ada is asleep.

She freezes when she hears a gun cock in the study. "Ada, it's me."

"Y/n, get your arse in here!"

The teenager groans at her sister's stern voice. She is not in the mood to answer questions.

Just as she enters the room, she hears the voice of the last person she wants to hear from.

"Fuck Ada, you knew it was her." Tommy lightly teases, but his eyes narrow at his youngest sister.

"What the fuck, Ada? You promised!"

Ada sets the gun on the table. "I didn't call him."

Y/n huffs. Why can't her brother just leave her alone for one night? Her eyes narrow when he points at the couch. "No. I'm going to bed."

"No, you're not. You're going to fucking sit and tell me why I found you missing this morning." Tommy demands, still pointing at the couch.

Ada rolls her eyes at her two siblings who are not having a staring contest, neither one of them budging. "Y/n, sit. Just get it over with."

Y/n thought about making a run for it, but she figured her sister is right. She might as well let her brother lecture her tonight instead of barging in tomorrow.

So with one last defiant glance at Tommy, she sits on the couch. "I'm not going back."

"Bloody hell." Ada mutters as a shouting match breaks out.

"YOU'RE A CHILD!!"

"I'M SEVENTEEN, NOT A BLOODY CHILD!"

"STILL NOT AN ADULT!!"

"ADA IS."

"Oi! Don't bring me into this." If she knew it would actually make them mind, Ada would've pointed her pistol at them.

"She already did when she came crying to you this morning."

"I wasn't crying!"

"Stop! Just fucking stop!" Ada shouts as she storms over to her sister. She grabs Y/n by the ear, forcing her to stand.

Tommy's eyes narrow when the eldest of the Shelby sisters comes for him. "Don't you fucking dare." He growls.

Ada ignores him and grabs his arm, pulling both her siblings through her hallway and up the stairs. She stops at the door to the bedroom Tommy uses when he stops by for one of his rare visits.

"Breakfast will be at seven."

"For fuck's sake, Ada."

"Tommy, breakfast will be at seven."

Tommy pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes close. After a few seconds he drops his hand, nodding his head. "See you at seven."

Y/n watches in amazement as her stubborn ass brother opens the bedroom door, letting himself be sent to bed like a child.

"You have to teach me how to do that. Ow!" Y/n whimpers when Ada yanks on her ear.

Ada rolls her eyes when her little sister gives her the kicked puppy look. "I'm sure Tommy's done worse."

"I'm not going to run, Ada. Please let go of my fucking ear before it fucking falls off."

Ada obliges the teenager. "Honestly, you're as bad as him."

Y/n rubs at her ear as they make their way to her room. "Well, he did raise me, Ada."

"Yeah, and I regret not being more involved with your upbringing every fucking day."

Y/n turns to her only sister, pulling her into an embrace. "You helped."

"No enough." Ada pulls back, her eyes wet with unshed tears.

"Maybe, maybe not. But you're here now. Just in time too." She looks over her shoulder to make sure Tommy isn't trying to listen.

Knowing what Y/n's doing, Ada grasps her hand into hers and pulls the teenager into her room before shutting the door behind her. "You were saying."

Y/n tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "I like a boy."

Ada exhales a short giggle before getting control of herself. "Oh please tell me he's not a Peaky Blinder."

"No, he's not." The smile disappears. "Would it be a bad thing if he was?"

Ada mentally scolds herself as she rubs a comforting hand on Y/n's arm. "No, it wouldn't." She sighs when her eyes catch the time. "We better get to bed. Don't forget, breakfast-"

"At seven. I know. I won't be late."

The sisters hug and then the eldest leaves to go to her own room.

***

Y/n groans at the banging on her door. "Fuck off!" She freezes when she hears a young kid's giggles. "Shit, shit, shit." She whispers as she scrambles out of bed and pulls on the trousers she was wearing last night.

She opens the door to find a very amused nephew. "Hey Karl, let's not use any words your Aunt Y/n just used, okay?"

"Shit."

"Fuck, you heard that."

"Fuck."

"No, don't say that." Y/n's starting to panic. Her sister is going to kill her.

"You and Arthur had the exact same conversation when you were that age."

Y/n snaps her head to the side, her eyes wide and pleading for her brother's help. They may be at each other's throat at the moment, but Y/n will not hesitate to ask her brother to get her out of the sticky situations she seems to always get herself in.

And Tommy will never refuse to help his sister, no matter how angry he is with her.

He crouches down so he's eye leveled with his nephew and turns the child’s face towards him with his hand under Karl's chin. "Are you allowed to use those words, Karl?

"No, Unca' Tommy."

"Then don't use them against your aunt. Understand me? Don't say them anymore."

Karl nods before wrapping his arms around Y/n's neck. "Sorry, Aun' Y/n."

Y/n smiles, returning the embrace. "I forgive you, Karl."

The two siblings watch their nephew run towards the stairs and stops. He glances at them before slowly making his way down the stairs.

Tommy snorts. "Thought I was going to have to chase after him."

Her smile turns into a cheeky smirk. "Like you did with me when I would run down the stairs?"

He straightens, offering her a hand. "I still do."

Y/n takes the offered hand. Her amusement drains as she remembers why they're here in the first place. "How much trouble am I in?"

Tommy clenches his jaw, the anger from last night rising. "Let's go downstairs, Ada's waiting." He turns on his heel and starts for the stairs.

Y/n's shock by the change in her brother. She knew he wouldn't be happy when he found her missing yesterday morning; but why is he this angry? "This can't be as bad as the time I shot Moss in the leg."

"Y/n." He warns, pausing on a step when she continues.

"No, I don't understand. Why are you so angry with me? All I did was take the train to London and spend the day with my sister."

"Except you didn't." Tommy snaps, marching back up the stairs and towards his sister. "You didn't fucking spend time with Ada, did you?"

"During the day, yes." She tells him calmly. She's seen his anger explode enough times to be able to stay this calm. "I did leave the flat later that evening."

"And where did you go, eh?"

"I was with some friends at a pub." She knew he knew she had been drinking last night. Not enough to get drunk, just enough to feel it.

"Friends?"

"Yes, I do have friends, Tommy." She tells him bluntly. "I met them when you sent me here to get away from Small Heath. You know, when you slapped me across the face and said you wished I was never born. Remember?"

Tommy sighs, closing his eyes. That may have been a year ago, but the guilt is still there; and clearly, his sister still hasn't forgiven him. "Y/n-"

"I know. You're sorry and you didn't mean it. You were grieving Grace's death and I didn't help the process." She regrets bringing it up when Tommy opens his eyes and she can see the guilt eating away at her brother's tiny soul.

"Tommy I-"

"Do you want to live here? Do you-" Tommy pauses, really wishing he hadn't lost his lighter last night while searching for Y/n. "If you would rather live here with Ada and away from me, I won't stop you."

Y/n's not sure how to process his words. On one hand, she's excited about the idea of getting away from her brother's overbearing protection; but on the other hand, his question stabs her in the gut. Does he not want her around anymore? Did she finally push Thomas Shelby too far?

Maybe he would be happier without her. He wouldn't have to constantly look for her, protect her from others and herself; and he could focus on actually taking care of his kid, not his rebellious sister.

"Y/n, I'm not tryi-"

"Yes." She interrupts; not wanting to hear him pretend to care. "I want to stay with Ada."

***

"Hey, I was wondering if I was going to have to come get you." Ada teases as Y/n walks fully into the room. "I thought Tommy was awake. Where is he?"

"He went back home."

Ada frowns at the monotone coming from her usually dramatic sister. "Why? I figured he spent half the night rehearsing his lecture on leaving without his permission." When she doesn't get a reaction from the other Shelby, she starts to worry.

"Y/n, what's going on?"

"Can I live with you?" She refuses to look at the other woman, knowing the tears in her eyes will fall.

"Yes, of course." She moves closer, rubbing her palms up and down the teenager's arms. "Please tell me what's going on."

Y/n finally looks at her. "I'm going back to bed. I'm sorry. If you'll save me some breakfast, I'll eat it later."

Ada watches as her sister's spirit breaks in front of her. What happened since she left Y/n's room last night?

She calls for Y/n to come back, but she acts like she didn't even hear her.

A few miles away, a heart is breaking. He’s losing his sister. He pushed her too far this time.

She was right, Thomas. She wasn't even gone for twenty four hours. His mother's side scolds.

But she could've been kidnapped or killed in that short amount of time. Rebuttals his father's side.

You taught her how to fight. She wasn't purposely putting herself in danger. Not like when she joined the fight against Billy Kimber and was shot in the arm. His mother's side argues.

Tommy pulls over, his mind racing too much for him to pay attention.

He regrets suggesting that she stays with Ada. What the hell was he thinking? It was never wise to leave the two Shelby women alone for long periods of time.

Ada may be more mature now, but he has no doubt Y/n can talk her into doing anything the little devil deems necessary.

And he doesn't want her to leave. He loves having Y/n around. She may be his sister by blood, but with the age gap and him basically raising her (with Pol's help), he sees her more as a daughter than a sister.

"Why is that so bloody hard to admit?" Tommy mutters aloud, his words only reaching his ears and the wind's.

Deciding he needs to swallow some pride, he turns the car around and heads back to the streets of London.

***

"Y/n, please let me in." Ada begs as she stands outside the teenager's room. "What is going on? Why are you so upset?"

"I think I know why."

Ada's eyes narrow at the man. "What the bloody hell did you do?"

"Can I try?" He motions towards the door with a nod.

Ada shrugs her shoulders. "Why not?" She steps back, letting her brother take over.

"Y/n." He calls, knocking twice. "Open the door. I need to talk to you."

No response.

"Y/n, come on. Open the fucking door."

Still no response.

"Are you really going to force me to apologize to a bloody door?"

He grins when he hears a muffled, disbelief snort.

"Oi! I'm serious! Wouldn't you rather see your overbearing, overprotective, bastard of a brother apologize in person; instead of hearing it?"

He takes a step back when he hears the click of a lock being released.

"If you're fucking lying, I'm slamming the door." Y/n growls.

Tommy nods, the seriousness of the situation weighing back down on him. "I am sorry, Y/n. I should have never suggested you come live with Ada."

"Hey!"

"No offense, Ada."

"Why did you?" She needs to know why he even said it.

"I thought it would make you happy. I thought it would be better for the both of us. But-" He slowly lifts his hand and gently cups her cheek; internally relaxing when she doesn't flinch away. "I was wrong. So fucking wrong. I will be devastated if you don't come back to Birmingham with me."

"If?" She questions.

He huffs, his limit on being open is almost to it's point. "I'm not going to force you to come with me. It's... It's your decision."

He inhales one finally breath. "I'm mostly sorry for how I treated you a year ago. I was out of line."

Y/n literally watches as her brother's walls build themselves around his heart and the vulnerability drain from his eyes.

But she doesn't care.

He let the walls fall and the vulnerability rise for her. Her! Y/n Shelby, his baby sister.

So only hesitating for a second, she wraps her arms around his torso. "I forgive you." She smiles when she physically feels the tension leave his body. "And I'm sorry too. I know I've been a royal brat lately."

"Can't deny that."

The two siblings turn to their other sibling, the one smiling like an idiot with tears streaming down her face.

"Looks like I broke the two toughest Shelby's in one day." Y/n sasses.

And just like that, Ada sees her sister's spirit returning to it's full weight.

Tommy groans, pretending to be annoyed. "You couldn't give me a fucking minute without the sass, eh?"

Y/n smirks. "Have to keep you on your toes, brother."

The two older Shelby's easily read into the real meaning of that last word.

Father

Forevers: @beautycinders @desiredpoison @ravenoussss @simonsbluee

#ada shelby x sister!reader #tommy shelby x sister!reader #shelby!reader #ada shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders

676 notes · View notes

shoichee · 4 years

Text

Star-crossed

[Midorima x Reader]

[Hanahaki!au]

Word Count: 8840

Warning: attempted angst, death

Note: This is my first time writing angst, oh dear. Even after years of bawling over other people’s works, I still have no solid idea on how to create heart-wrenching writing. Here goes though.

»»—————　☼　—————««

“I’m really excited!”

“Ne, ne, I honestly can’t wait to bloom…”

“What kind of flowers would my body grow do you think?...”

You only drone out the incessant bustlings of chattering from your classmates as special health education class ended as you sat there patiently waiting for the next teacher to walk into class to start the next period.

Next is… ah, math…

You sigh, heaving out the bulky textbook out of your bag and drop it on the desk with a thump, making a few students flinch at the near proximity. You lay your elbow on the hardcover, allowing your thoughts to drift away as your fingers gently thrum. This teacher, you knew, was the type to start class unceremoniously late.

It was boring. Everyone already knew about the stage of blooming. It had been incanted incessantly to you by adults around you ever since grade school. Yet, Shūtōku high was one of the many high schools that still insisted in “teaching” the basic knowledge of what’s to come soon.

Maybe these classes don’t teach, but rather, serve as a reminder of the inevitable that all growing teenagers will face sooner or later: blooming.

Some people have already experienced it as soon as they graduated out of middle school; they were called the “early bloomers.” That was one of your closer friends.

So what’s it like? you once asked, turning to your new friend at the time. You said you bloomed…

And you recall her nodding her head fervently.

Yeah! she eagerly replied. While it may be painful at first, it went away after a few weeks for me… it’s not so different like getting a period, you know?... I heard it’s different for everyone, but for me, my heart thumped super loudly! And I get these tingly sensations!...

… It’s just like a sign that you’ve become totally mature!

A frantic clang from the doorway interrupts your train of thought as you eye the expectant teacher, completely out of breath as he tries to arrive on time but completely failing miserably.

Unlike in special health ed, most of the students groan at the thought of continuing the onslaught of derivative lessons. You don’t really care either way and promptly open your textbook to the appropriate page.

As class slowly ticks by, your mind wanders off from the subject of class again, drifting to the constant destination of your recent curiosity of bloomings.

You are what everyone calls a “late bloomer.”

You aren’t the only late bloomer, obviously, but it does make you quite anxious at the fact of potentially being the “last one” in your class, or perhaps out of the entire school.

No one wants to really hang out with a late bloomer; they were often stereotyped as “immature” or “abnormal.” After all, this was a normal stage of life, a sign of growing up out of childhood. No one wants to hang around with someone seen as a “kid.”

A soft cough pulls you from your daydreaming as you subtly glance at the desk to your left. It was a classmate of yours, as well as an acquaintance.

“Hey,” you whisper, trying to not bring attention to yourself. “... Are you okay?”

She gives a quiet clearing of her throat before she nods, hand still pressed against her lips. She then shakes her head side to side, her long hair swaying slightly with the motion.

“Ah, don’t worry about me getting sick,” you quietly reassure. “But you should really go to the nurse’s after. Have you tried tying your hair up? I heard doing so can help cool off and keep a clearer head…”

She cautiously drops her hand back to her desk before giving you a small, reassuring smile.

“Thank you, (l/n-san). I’ll be fine.”

“(l/n).”

“Yes!” You stand up from your desk the moment the teacher calls on you, relieved at the fact that he didn’t seem to notice your hushed conversation.

“Could you please come up to the board to solve this problem…?”

---------

Lunch time is always the time you come out of class to search for Takao. As you walk briskly in the hallways, you try to avoid staring at everyone’s floral tattoos located at the side of their necks, imprinted underneath the canopies of their jaws. Each individual’s flower mark showcased what their bodies grew during their stages of blooming.

And each plant was unique to the individual. They could represent their personality, their prospective future, what their future soulmate would be like… anything goes, and every student constantly gossips about what the other’s marks would exactly mean.

You, markless, walk faster, hoping that no one would spot you and flit their eyes to your blank neck… although everyone at school already knows those who have still yet to bloom.

You envy them.

“(y/n)-chan!!” Takao waves you over when you enter the cafeteria. “Over here!”

You briefly scan the tables before you spot him, begrudgingly noticing his pink hyacinth at the crook of his neck, even though you’re happy for him that he passed that stage of his life.

Pink hyacinths… they symbolized playfulness.

You would know; not only did special health classes painstakingly educate students since young for the anticipation of blooming, you took the extra effort of researching many more flowers on your own time, patiently abiding your time to have a striking plant engraved onto you one day.

As you carry your tray and slide into your seat, you finally notice a grumbling greenhead besides Takao.

“Shin-chan! So you do care about having a flower mark after all, eh?”

That’s right, huh. Midorima, too, was markless.

Just like you.

“Your assumptions are getting ridiculous, Takao.”

“Seriously? You expect me to believe that when your eyes always land on people’s necks when you talk to them—pfffft—” He breaks out into guffaws as he clutches his stomach helplessly, which cued Midorima into reaching for the point-guard in an attempt to strangle him.

Pink hyacinths are perfect for someone like Takao. You couldn’t help but let a smile slip from your lips.

“Whoaa!!” Takao peers over to you, ignoring his predicament of being restrained to death by Midorima. “(y/n)-chan! You should smile more!—ow!”

“Worry about yourself first,” he scowls, before tentatively letting him go with a defeated sigh. He opts to hold his lucky charm for the day (a terracotta pot).

“Shintarou-san,” you call out to him, after several minutes of comfortable silence as all three of you ate your lunches. “What do you think your flower would be?”

“Man proposes, God disposes. As long as I always provide everything to maximize my opportunities and follow the order of fate, I do not need to worry about such baseless things.”

You mildly snicker at his typical response. “Is that so, horoscope man.”

“Why waste time worrying about something that’s not in your hands?” He pushes up his glasses with his taped hand. “You should be focusing on what you can do as of now, nanodayo.” When he finishes, he looks up from his lunch to glance at you, noticing your widened eyes.

“Ah…” you stare at him at a loss for words, caught off guard at the fact that he sounded… almost concerned for you. “I’ll keep it in mind, Shintarou.”

“There’s no way that’s our Shin-chan!” Takao rushes to try to feel Midorima’s forehead. “That’s way too good of an advice to be you—”

“Shut up—get off of me—!”

As the two basketball players struggle in each other’s vice grips, they fail to notice the ruddy color having its own moment of blooming onto your cheeks.

---------

“... and what this means, class, is that having your first love is a monumental sign of blooming. That being said, having to experience love for the first time does not automatically guarantee blooming. This natural phenomena is still being studied by scientists around the world. What’s also interesting is that we humans are the only ones with this unique…”

More basic information? You yawn, covering your mouth in hopes no one notices, but as you look around you, your classmates are too engrossed in the lecture to even pay attention to anything else.

Of course they’d pay attention. It’s a special event that will happen to everyone at some point; even though you were sure they all already knew the information to heart, you knew they would take any opportunity to learn more about themselves in any way. You don’t blame them, however. You’re curious about your own body’s idiosyncrasies of not blooming yet.

“... Lies.” You snap your head to the source of the quiet remark to see your classmate on your left, arms crossed on the desk with a minimal scowl on her face.

Noticing your piercing stare, she turns to you before widening her eyes at realizing that she was heard. She abruptly turns her face to the front of the class, trying to pass off the act of suddenly paying attention to the teacher.

You turn your head to face the front as well but you still glance to your left from time to time.

“Are you feeling better?...” you hesitantly whisper.

Not expecting you to show concern, she jumps in her seat before eyeing you warily. As soon as she decides that you were merely concerned, she gives a polite nod and a smile.

“It was just a little flu I caught… Thank you for worrying about me. I’m just a sickly person but I thankfully recover very quickly.”

And with that, she ends the conversation with you to finally genuinely pay attention for the rest of class.

You try to do the same, but you feel knots of lead settling in your stomach.

… Lies?

What was that about?

---------

“(y/n)-chan! Wanna come and watch our practices today?”

You were stopped in the hallways by a grinning Takao, with a trailing Midorima not too far behind with a bundle of faux peacock feathers.

You’re not too sure if you should be concerned with a clinging Takao on your arm and attempting to kidnap you or a stoic Midorima displaying around a ridiculous souvenir.

“Huh? W-why?”

“You’re obviously free right now, obviously.”

“That doesn’t make sense—wah!”

Before you can put any further word in, Takao is dragging you to the gym, with an exasperated Midorima being figuratively pulled along with you two as well.

“Here we are, (y/n)-chan!” Takao ushers you beyond the gym doors and indicates the bleachers for you to sit and watch.

“You really think I’m going along with all of this, Kazu?”

“I know you better than anyone.”

“No you don’t,” you frown, turning away from him with a huff.

“Takao.”

Takao immediately gulps at the call of his name from Midorima and both you and him turn around to see a particularly hostile green-haired person.

“Sorry, sorry! Please don’t hit me!” And Takao races to the lockers in an attempt to escape from his fury.

Midorima relaxes his stance after he leaves and turns to you.

“Thanks, Shintarou.”

“I wasn’t doing it for you,” he says, adjusting his glasses. “He was just being more troublesome than usual.” But the way he clumsily handled his frames told a different story to you.

You laugh at him. “If you insist, Shintarou-san.”

“R-right…”

“Hey! Shin-chan!” Takao yells from the opposite side of the gym. Get over here! Captain is coming!”

At the captain being mentioned, Midorima straightens up before jogging over to warm up.

You suppose you can watch their practice this evening.

---------

You’ve never seen anyone handle a basketball like that.

What the hell? His range was damn near impossible.

You were thankful that you allowed Takao to drag you over to the gym to watch. Otherwise, you would’ve never learned about this side of Midorima.

Wait… Midorima?

No, you shake your head. It’s only because it was a lot more interesting than all of your classes, that’s all.

You repeat it to yourself like a mantra, yet every time your eyes land on Midorima’s shooting form, your mind goes blank.

You were absolutely captivated… not that you would ever admit it though.

---------

“... scientists are still doing social experiments on the blooming stage of humans. You may be wondering, if it’s been a part of societies for thousands of years, why are we studying it? Well, during old times, they were often explained using myths and folk stories…”

It really sucked that special health ed class was a mandatory requirement for all first-years. All of this was old news to you still.

“... new recent findings came out that answered the everlong question of whether the bloomings can actually be dangerous for humans, and how dangerous.”

Oh? That was new. But you suppose there was no way they’d tell little kids about the possibilities and risks with bloomings.

“Obviously, we know it can be fatal, just like pregnancies going awry and such. While we don’t know the exact mortality rate, researchers are trying to develop new medicines to curb away the potential amount of deaths associated with bloomings. But other scholars suggest not to drain precious resources into medicine development when they can use it for more pressing medical issues, and I know many of you believe this as well. Their take on this issue is that ‘blooming is something that should not be tampered with and the success of bloomings rely solely on the individual’s abilities and willpower to come of age since it’s unique to every person’...”

Unique… He was right. Even the signs and symptoms of a blooming vary greatly for everyone. The only thing everyone had in common was that their bodies grew plants. Even the way plants grow vary from person to person. That’s what they taught since the very beginning.

“... since blooming is unique to every individual, creating a standard medicine and procedure for all would be impossible, or at the very least inaccessible due to high expenses in accommodating medicine for every patient.”

Most of the students in the room nod in fervent agreement, and pretty soon, the room was filled with chattering at the new information they took in.

You glance to your classmate on your left again but you were surprised to see that her seat was empty.

Was she not here from the start?

You sigh and chide yourself for not noticing at the beginning of homeroom, but quickly dismiss the casual thought for more immediate problems like your upcoming exam for chemistry in a few periods.

Ah, oh well.

---------

“If you’re looking for Takao, forget it. He’s in detention for causing a disruption for one of the teachers last period.”

“Sh-shintarou?!” You whirl around to find Midorima alone with his bear plush. “You’re not at practice?”

“We practice tomorrow.”

“I see,” you say, not knowing how to continue the conversation from here.

“I guess I’ll be going home early then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As you try to walk past Midorima, he sidesteps quickly to block your pathway, and you walk right into him before stepping back out of embarrassment.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry—!”

“(y/n).” He averts his eyes while sliding up his glasses. “You’re walking home alone?”

Still in a state of flusters, you promptly nod your head as you stare down at your shoes.

“Come. We better get going before it gets too late. Cancers will have unlucky encounters after dusk.” Midorima jerks his head to the direction of the exit, motioning for you to follow before he turns on his heel and walks away.

“Sh-shintarou?”

“I-it’ll only be… troublesome if something were to happen.” He stops walking and looks back at you. “What are you waiting for? Hurry up.”

“R-right. Coming!”

---------

It wasn’t completely unexpected that the walk home would have an awkward atmosphere between the two of you. Usually, Takao would be the social “buffer” and the proxy between you two, but now that he was out of the picture, neither of you knew how to strike up a casual conversation. That was more of Takao’s specialty.

“... I’ve thought about what you said.” At his voice, you turn to look up at his contemplative face. You give him an inquisitive look to encourage him to continue his thought. “... Although I’m not so certain what kind of plant I would grow. Not even the Oha Asa could predict it.”

“Ah, I see…” You turn your face to face the front as you gaze at the sunset ahead. “Are you afraid of the uncertainty?” At your question, he falls silent, giving you the confirmation that he was, indeed, scared.

“Shintarou,” you murmur. “You’re not alone in feeling the uneasiness of blooming.”

“Wha—I never said anything about blooming, nanodayo—”

“Sure,” you interject. “Well, for me, I really hope I’d get a gorgeous flower, a flower so breathtaking that would make everyone stop in their tracks to admire the mark. I want to change those stares of pity and disdain into those of admiration and envy…” You can tell he’s hanging onto your every word despite the fact that he wasn’t facing you, his steps slowing down ever so slightly to be as close to you to hear what you had to say without deeming it suspicious.

“I envy Takao… a lot,” you sigh, and Midorima turns his head slightly to you at the mention of Takao’s name. “He already has a flower mark and he’s so put-together despite his cheerfulness… He’s really reliable.”

“I see.”

“... and the truth is, I’m really scared. I feel like I’m going to be the last person to ever get a mark. I wonder if there’s something wrong with me, with my body—”

He stops in his tracks.

“That’s a foolish line of thought.”

You turn to face him, ready to glare at him, but you stop when you make eye contact, startled at the intensity of his gaze. You swear you can see your figure reflected in his viridian irises. A few seconds of suffocating silence crawl by, and you break away eye contact, intimidated by his gaze and the possible implication of his words.

“Sorry about that.”

He says nothing in return.

The rest of the walk home became even more uncomfortable, with Midorima walking slightly ahead and you making a wordless effort to constantly match his stride.

You don’t know why, but seeing his taut back to you squeezes your heart ever so slightly, the mute badumps ever feeling like a constant dull sore.

“Shintarou…” you softly call out after you arrive at your house. The sun had left the horizon shortly before you arrived at your destination. “Thank you for walking me home, and… sorry, it looks like it’s past dusk now, but will you be able to get home safely?”

“Fool,” he huffs. “I have my lucky charm to compensate for my misfortune today.”

You smile at him, relieved at the thought that maybe that moment before was all just your overthinking.

“Of course, Shintarou.”

---------

It was hard looking at Midorima without losing your cool from that point on. It wasn’t like the two of you did anything out of the ordinary yesterday, excluding the fact that he volunteered to walk you home. But you knew he just cared for you in his own way, as a friend.

As a friend.

“(y/n)-chan!” Takao tries to pounce on you, pulling your cheeks apart. “What’s with the nasty frown on your face? Didn’t I tell you that you should smile more?”

“Shtop—pawling—Takow—!”

As he laughs at your stretched face from his pulling, you manage to pry his hands off of your cheeks and take refuge behind the sour-faced shooting guard. “Shintarou! Save me from Takao!”

“Takao, come here.” He gave a harsher punch to his head than usual, and Takao did not fail to comment on it.

“Sheesh, that hurt even more, Shin-chan? What did I do?—oh, ohhhhhhh.” His grimace lit up to an expression of realization and mischievousness. “I see.”

“Your antics are getting more and more preposterous. If you have that much energy, you should expend it during practice, nanodayo.”

“Right, right, Shin-chan!” He waves Midorima off before slinging his arm around your shoulder. “But (y/n)-chan, don’t think you're off the hook just yet!”

You can only sigh as he dramatically waggles his finger at you while Midorima clicks his tongue, opting to walk to his classroom instead.

“H-hey! Don’t leave me behind!”

And with that, the duo disappeared right before the warning bell rang.

---------

You sense an uncharacteristic aura of hostility directed at you right when you entered class, but you shake your head before plopping at your designated seat. As much as you try to mind your own business, the hostility you felt peaked even more. You glance around before your eyes fall on your classmate to your usual left.

She was silently seething, but particularly at you.

“Is… something the matter?” You shot her a worried look. “You were gone yesterday, right? Did your flu kick up again?”

“What’s with you?”

“Pardon?”

“Why do you care so much for me? I never asked for it.”

“Wh-what? I’m just worried? Did I say something wrong?”

“You are—”

“I am?”

And the bell rang with such convenient timing to interrupt the two of you.

“It’s nothing. Forget it.”

And class started without a further word from her, and as lectures progress, you peek over to her desk to see her never looking your way. The least you do, you decide, is to try to apologize and talk to her afterschool.

“... a revolutionary finding was published all over the news yesterday regarding bloomings. He proposed the most controversial proposition yet: bloomings neither affect the human body’s growth and maturity physiologically nor psychologically and that these ‘effects’ from blooming are merely all placebo. His conclusions have caused an uproar in the world of scholarship, but what I want for you students to do is to write an in-class paper about your reaction to these potential revelations…”

You sit up straight, and for the first time, you listen to his lessons with utmost attention. Your mind racing, you rush to grab a suitable pencil before you start to write your thoughts for the assignment. You peer over to your classmate to see her already writing furiously. You do the same.

She was the first student to screech the chair as she stood up, daintily holding the paper to bring it to the front desk.

All you could discern from her paper, even despite the neat writing, was:

I am ultimately relieved.

---------

“W-wait! Please!” You dash out of the classroom, trailing after your classmate who hightailed it out as soon as possible.

“Leave me alone already!” she heaves over her shoulder, willing her legs to run even faster.

“Your… homework! I have to give… work that you… missed!” And you had relatively no problem speeding up to match her pace.

“Can you just stop following me?! I can just get it from my teachers! What’s your deal?!”

“I want to apologize—!” But before you can finish your sentence, your classmate drops onto her knees, clasping her mouth in complete desperation. “H-hey! What’s wrong?!”

She wheezed into her palms before she got up and ran again before you could completely catch up to her.

She busted open the main doors and ran into the secluded areas of the school courtyard, hoping to lose your trail of her, but as soon as she turned from looking behind her shoulder to the front again, you managed to cut her way off.

“Your… homework…” you gasp for air, shakily handing her the papers that were clenched in your hand.

The next thing you register are splatters of blood on the sheets. And your classmate desperately holding her coughs in.

“Hey!...” You hold her frame, slowly dropping the two of you onto the ground in kneeling positions to try to ease the burden on her body, soiled papers already discarded to the side.

Cough. “Don’t—” Cough. “Fucking—” Cough. “Touch me…”

As she spoke, her hands loosen up their grip against her mouth, but as soon as she did, petals and buds cascaded from her lips. Which were all soaked in blood.

“I…” You dumbly look at the pile of flowers in front of her. You couldn’t even tell what type of flowers they were from all the blood. “You’re blooming?” You always thought she already did.

She slaps your hand, which was on her shoulder the entire time, before tucking her strands behind her ear to prevent them from being further drenched in crimson.

Her neck, being exposed for the first time, was blank.

“C-congratulations!” You say, holding both her shoulders this time with excitement. “You’re—!”

Slap.

The sound resonated through the area, which luckily was mostly empty. Your face pulsates with a stinging heat.

“I’m fucking dying!” She stands up shakily from her kneeling position. “How could you say such an awful thing—I’m dying, I’m fucking dying…”

You can only stare at her in shock from her being so volatile for the first time since you met her, or the fact that she said such a morbid thing.

“I don’t… I don’t understand—?”

“I’m sick!” she seethes, her throat struggling to choke out words. Tears run silently down her agonized face, diluting the thick blood smeared across her face.

“I’m so sorry…! I didn’t know your flu was this ba—”

“You’re the reason why I’m dying,” she hoarsely spat.

The silence was so palpable that even the labored breathing from her was unnaturally loud.

“What? Why me?”

“I…” she hesitates, before dropping to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to—it’s not your fault, I…

… I’m so scared.” Hiccup. “There isn’t any medicine to help me…”

You hand her a tissue from your bag to try to clean up the bloody mess off of her, but before you can dab the tissue to her face, she gingerly grabs your wrist.

“I… love Takao.”

What? You held your breath, anticipating to hear what she’d say next.

“But he rejected me not too long ago. I thought I could get over him and be done with blooming relatively quickly but…” She pointedly looks at you. “Whenever he’s so close to you, especially as of late… my heart hurts. It hurts, it hurts so badly and I don’t know, and then I just start coughing more, and more, and more.”

“It’s just a stage of life,” you insist. “Maybe your case is the most extreme, but—”

“Oh, stop it already,” she snarls. “You still believe in whatever they feed you about this ‘blooming’? It’s a disease, for fuck’s sake.” She tries to get up again. “I thought… I could be friends with you because you were the only one who wasn’t being sucked into their rhetorics… guess I was wrong.”

You were still on your knees when you tried to stretch out your hand to her, but retracted it after seeing her stumble away from you. But as she did so, she hacked out a new bouquet of flowers, but this time, you could see tiny white flowers rimmed with pale blue.

Morning glories…

They meant unrequited love.

“(y/n)...?” she softly asked, for the first time using her usual mild-mannered tone of voice with you today. She disregarded the mess of petals she made around her, appearing to be accustomed to the unsettling sight.

“... yes?”

“Do you love Takao?”

“I would never see him that way.”

“That’s… good to hear…” She gives you a defeated close-eyed smile.

“Wait… you still need to get cleaned up.”

You got up on your feet to try to guide her face your way to wipe off, and as you try to scrub the dried clots of blood away, she manages to croak a laugh.

“I thought that you were trying to rub it in my face about Takao the entire time whenever you talked to me… I was so wary of you, I was so blinded…” You silently listen as you pour your water bottle over the next tissue.

“Do you know why teens in particular have to pay attention to when they’ll bloom?”

“No…” You furrow your brows, already reevaluating about everything you supposedly already knew about blooming. “I don’t.”

“Teens are more likely to have their first love than any other person. If they can overcome their first unrequited love… that would mean… they are ready to apparently to survive and carry on with their lives…

… tell me… am I not good enough to be alive? I can’t even get over—”

You only hush her as you scrub away the last remnants of blood from her skin. Her clothes were unfortunately already stained.

“That’s the best I could do,” you quietly say. “Please get home as soon as possible. And take care of yourself.”

“The paper we had today in class… When our teacher talked about the new findings of blooming research, I was so happy. But looking around class, no one seemed to share the same sentiments. Even still, I am glad about the possibility that one day, we’d stop emphasizing so much on these marks…

“Although I wish I made the attempt to become closer friends with you sooner, I have no regrets now… I’m so glad you’re here…

“I feel so relieved…”

---------

The next day of school, you had an ominous feeling settled within the pits of your stomach. You come to school early, deciding to sit at your desk the entire time and reading to pass the time. You did not feel like talking to your happy-go-lucky friend and his grumpy pet, as much as you usually enjoy their company.

Ever so often, you would glance at the clock and wish for it to come faster.

The bell eventually rings and most of the students crowd into the classroom into their seats. The homeroom teacher promptly follows after and puts her bag onto the front desk. But the seat to your left… was empty.

“Everyone… I have some unfortunate news to share,” she solemnly says. No, no, no… it can’t be.

Your mind goes blank as you stare at the teacher, vaguely reading her lips as one thing went in and out the other ear.

“... she unfortunately passed away. She wasn’t able to bloom.”

Your heart, already struggling to keep afloat on the last shreds of optimism, sank.

“Wha…? She’s gone?”

“That’s such a pity…”

“She was in our class? Since when?”

“Yikes, she wasn’t even able to bloom? That sucks for her, honestly.”

You stare blankly at your desk, not registering the fact that the special health ed class teacher took over the class after homeroom.

The whispers around the gossiping students only serve as a cruel reminder that late bloomers did not get any sympathy from others.

You needed to bloom, and fast.

---------

You only manage to exit out of class and find the cafeteria out of pure muscle memory, but your mind constantly goes back to yesterday evening with her. Were you the last person she got to speak with before she died? Was she scared? Did she truly die happy? You will never get to know.

You stop before the cafeteria doorway, inhaling and exhaling to bring your conscience back into the present day, and slowly stroll in. Takao and Midorima were already deep in conversation, so you stop, waiting for the perfect opportunity to join them.

“Shin-chan, have you heard?” Takao says, holding up his fork. “A student our year died from blooming.”

“It’s not in my matters to worry about, although I would like to give her family my condolences.” Midorima takes his time to cut his patty cleanly with a knife.

“It must suck though, to think this would happen… isn’t it a bit sad, Shin-chan?”

“It’s easily preventable, nanodayo.” He chews a small piece before continuing. “I would’ve never made the foolish mistake of falling in love. I’d rather be markless than fall in love.”

He would’ve never made the foolish mistake of falling in love…

He would’ve never made such a mistake…

He would’ve never fallen in love.

And certainly not with you.

Your heavy heart spikes in a pulse. Your heart was now racing for the wrong reasons. Those dull sores were now nothing compared to the incessant squeezing on your heart. And it won’t let up. You try to steady your breathing to calm yourself but your intake of air almost feels as if it’s being cut off.

You feel as if you can’t breathe.

You step back a couple steps before you dash to the nearest restroom, ignoring the stares of a few students around you.

“Speaking of the girl, wasn’t she in (y/n)-chan’s classroom? I actually haven’t seen her around today.”

“Takao, let me eat in peace.”

“Sheesh, you’re such a downer, Shin-chan.”

---------

You not being able to breathe was not just figuratively.

You ran to the restroom up on the 3rd floor, where you knew it was always mostly empty. You opened the door of the furthest stall and locked yourself in before you tried to heave whatever was blocking your airway.

1… 4… 7… 8 fern leaves—fronds—were choked out in a string of forced wheezes. They all floated seemingly innocently on the water of the toilet bowl.

Your body trembles, not able to take the sudden physical burden on it.

You should be happy, you really should. This was what you wished and prayed for all these years. But whatever you coughed out wasn’t even pretty-looking; hell, it wasn’t even a flower.

“I’d rather be markless…”

With Midorima’s words playing back to back in your head like a broken record, your lungs had the visceral reaction to gasp for more air before throwing up the rest of the leaves. It took the rest of lunch for you to stand up properly and collect yourself before you headed back to class.

You wished and you wished for your blooming to come, but now that your signs became apparent, you suddenly don’t want to bloom.

---------

Classes became harder to focus on, especially with the persistent dull stabs echoing in your heart. You feel that this pain was being constantly amplified and spread to the rest of your body.

You’re tired already, and it was only the initial stages.

School finished before you even knew it. Maybe it was because of the constant distraction your pain provided. A benefit from this new situation, if you were trying to be hopelessly optimistic, is that you wouldn’t be bored anymore at least.

You walk out of class in a slight daze, loosely scanning your surroundings until your eyes land on Takao and Midorima, although your gaze lingered on Midorima longer than you want to admit.

You hate this. The moment you figured that you fell in love with him was also the moment you learned that it was unrequited. If that wasn’t the unluckiest thing that ever happened to you, you don’t know what else is.

As you walk towards them, you toy with the idea of carrying around lucky items and taking Midorima’s advice in doing whatever you can to make your life easier (especially as of late), but you decide against it, trying not to dig your own grave by purposely doing things that reminded you of the green-haired boy even more.

“Kazu! Shintarou!” You casually wave over to them, masking the pain you felt at the sharp jabs you felt every so often in your chest.

“Oh? There you are,” Takao walks to your side to drop his arm on your shoulder. “Where you been, (y/n)-chan?”

“Been busy with… assignments and school.”

“Ah, well that can’t be helped. Speaking of busy, our captain is upping our practices, so we’re going to be gone a lot of the times.”

“No, no, don’t worry about me, just focus on basketball,” you say. “After all, that’s what you’re most passionate about. Don’t let me stop you.”

“You sure are understanding,” he laughs as he ruffles your hair. “But so—wah? Shin-chan, where are you going? Don’t leave me behind, damn it!”

Midorima won’t even speak with you…

“Seeyah! Nice seeing you!”

“Yeah… bye, Takao and… Shintarou…” By the time you spoke Midorima’s name, it barely came out as an audible whisper.

Somewhere within your heart, you hoped to be able to speak with Midorima but you wonder if he’s avoiding you on purpose.

As you walk home, alone, you think about the conversation you and Midorima had when he walked with you.

Had you misinterpreted Midorima in thinking that he wanted to bloom?

Was Midorima not the type to even want a mark?

In the end, were you just projecting your own desires and insecurities onto him?

The more you think, the more you realize how little you truly know about him. Right on cue, your windpipe constricts and spasms, signalling for you to find something to throw up in.

The nearest trash can was sufficient, and besides, no one was out in the streets to see a pitiful you hacking out with atrocious noises in an attempt to coax the leaves out. You pant in an attempt to calm your breathing, noticing the small spots of blood already staining dots on the vibrant fronds. Viscous blood mixed with your saliva hangs precariously from your lips, waiting to separate and fall into the bin with the leaves.

Your hands, grasping the trash can’s rims, shake in trying to hold your body up. And they tremble harder when you squint your eyes to start sobbing.

Your thick tears managed to fall into the bin before the ropy strands of blood dangling from your lips.

---------

You decide to spend most of your free time, at home and at school, researching about blooming beyond what your education system fed you. At school, you properly utilize the library, scouring every book on the subject you could find. But you weren’t surprised to see only books that talked about topics that were already covered in class.

Your fervid research took your mind off of Midorima, which subsequently stalled your stage of blooming.

You were going to start at the foundation of blooming: what exactly was it?

While the question is still being debated among the top scientists in the country, you took it upon yourself to try to come with an answer for yourself. For all you were concerned with, everything you thought you knew about blooming felt like an intricately-woven lie.

All the theorizing in your mind halted when you coincidentally found Midorima in one of the library sections.

“Sh-shintarou…?”

At your voice, he jumps out of his skin and then freezes. “What are you doing here?... Don’t you have practice?”

“Obviously I do, nanodayo…” he mutters, sliding his glasses up. You hate that you’ve noticed his habits even before you fell for him, but now that you did, you were even more hyper aware of everything he does. “But they insisted I rest for the actual games.”

“... while the others continue practice like normal?”

He ignores your question as he turns around to walk away. “If you don’t need me for anything else, I’ll be going.”

“W-wait!” You unconsciously grab the back of his uniform shirt. Shit.

He turns around, eyeing you and waiting what you had to say.

“Well, I… I have to go home—right now! And well, since Takao is at practice I was wondering if you—”

He frowns before calmly replying. “No.”

No?

He leaves.

You stand there completely devastated. You don’t know whether to be furious at him and hate him to get over your pain or to do nothing but collapse against the bookshelf and silently cry your heart out.

You did the latter.

---------

The more you think about your unrequited love, the faster you will bloom. The faster you overcome and mature, the faster your blooming will pass. That’s what the books say.

But if you think about them more, isn’t that just a first-row ticket to accelerating to your death? Perhaps your late classmate was right in which blooming wasn’t something to boast about.

Your eyes have been puffy for days, although you mask it quite well with skincare and a dab of concealer. Nonetheless, you still look unwell and unnaturally pale at other parts of your face.

Your other classmates don’t pay attention to you, and for once, you’re grateful that your markless status helped you in flying under everyone’s radar.

You think you’re getting delusional. To ease your own pain during class, you now make it a little hobby to come up with different scenarios in how you would be saved from this.

What if you stop coming to school for a few weeks to see if anyone notices that you went missing?

What if you collapse in the hallway while walking with your friends and then Midorima panics and confesses his undying love for you?

What if an earthquake hit the bustlings of Tokyo and you were one of the only students who couldn’t be rescued by professionals and you were trapped because of your blooming body—and then maybe perhaps Midorima—

“(y/n).”

“Y-y-yes?” You immediately stand up without missing a beat.

“Could you read the passage from lines 37 to 49?...”

“Yes!...”

This was stupid. What were you even thinking at this point?

Honestly, your best option was to do everything in your power to get over Midorima and get your long-deserved mark.

---------

It’s been a couple of days.

While you still fantasize a few “damsel in distress” scenarios sometimes, you feel numb in a good way; your body was accustomed to the dull thuds, so you don’t even feel them as much anymore, and your mind has been clearer ever since the passing of your acquaintance, but at this point, you’re more inclined to call her your friend. You still hacked up a few ferns, though.

You decide to visit her grave on the weekend, which was freshly dug and cemented; it’s been a few weeks since her passing after all. As stupid as it sounded, you got her morning glories. Her spirit might hate you for constantly reminding her the cause of her death, but it’s the only flower that truly reminds you of her, and the only flower that made such an impact on you.

You pay your respects and spend the afternoon with her, murmuring how she was right after all and now it was your turn to finally go what she went through. You also talk about how Takao was doing, and how Shūtōku was competing right now against the big schools. You affectionately rub her gravestone before you leave.

You happen to pass by the stadium of where the esteemed Winter Cup was being held. That was where your team was competing wasn’t it?

You stop, however, when you see a particular greenhead near, with an unfamiliar blonde… and a pink-haired girl, a gorgeous one at that.

Thump… thump… thump…

You were supposed to be over him. You weren’t supposed to care about his affairs. But you saw him being so casual with her while she was holding a baby husky, you suddenly felt as helpless as the you back in the cafeteria, at the doorway, when you heard what Midorima said.

You already told your late friend that you got over Midorima. The last thing you wanted to do now was to end up lying to her that you never did.

You tear your eyes away and bolt, tears blurring your vision as you run in the general direction to where you thought was your home. You hoped that your parents were still at work, because you did not have the courage to tell them that you were a disappointment because you couldn’t even do the bare minimum of blooming. And you certainly hoped her spirit wasn’t following you somehow, because you didn’t want to be the reason for her suffering again, as unreasonable as it sounded.

By the time you arrived at your gates, you couldn’t control the resurfacing of ferns from your lungs as you felt the blood spilling in bursts with the leaves, along with the loud hiccups and desperate wails that escaped from your body. You had left a visible trail of complementary colors of red and green. But you didn’t care. Guilt and rejection wracked your body to the point beyond properly functioning.

Despite the muddy colors that fill your vision, you manage to clumsily use the keys to enter into your house, but walking beyond those gates proved to be more troublesome as those muddy colors soon became even hazier and your legs wobbled weaker. You stumbled and tripped and slipped yet you made the effort to get back up again. You knew you were going to have to hide the dark bruises that formed from you constantly crashing… and probably come up with excuses if you couldn’t obscure all of them. You beg your body to make it to your room at the very least.

I’ll… just sleep it off… it’ll all be okay… I’ll wake up, and everything will just be a dream… a dream…

You collapse onto the floor of the living room, your house door still completely open from moments before.

It must be your room’s bed, right? How else would it explain why you felt so at ease right now?

You feebly choke, too lethargic to even hold up a hand to stop the contents of your blooming from spilling all over the floor.

Ah… won’t they be mad when they’d get back from home?... Maybe you should clean up your bed.

But a short nap sounds heavenly at the moment, and your body has the same idea, your heart relaxing and easing up on the painful thuds for the first time in a while.

You peacefully flutter your eyes, registering amongst the haze the brilliant shade of greens the fern exhibited, which truly reminded you of the person who ultimately could not return your love back… a true sight for sore eyes like yours.

“Sh… ta… rou…”

You vaguely felt your throat tickling from the inside before you lost complete consciousness.

The fern that represented eternal youth… new life… new beginnings… even until the end, you could not comprehend why your body decided to grow ferns.

The sight on the floor was eerily ethereal. Your face was completely serene as your lips were parted by long, elegant ferns emerging from your esophagus, watered by fresh crimson. Your body looked like it was made to be a delicate, asymmetrical vase for the newly-sprouted foliage. There was nothing but silence, save for the wall clock’s ticking that signaled your death.

---------

“Midorin? What’s wrong?” Momoi tilted her head up at Midorima, who started to palpitate. “Did the games pump you up?”

“Obviously not.” He glanced at her pointedly before he excused himself.

“H-uh? Hold up—Midorin!”

At her voice, he took longer strides to outpace, even lose, her, and he sharply made a turn to a deserted area behind the stadiums. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe—

A cough. Two coughs. Then his floodgates bursted, with a yellow petal fluttering into his hand before he coughed up the rest of the hyacinth flower, its scent steeped in the headache-inducing odor of metal.

The yellow hyacinth… while the pink hyacinth tattooed on Takao meant playfulness, his own flower meant jealousy.

The first time he felt it was when Takao dragged you to the gym and proclaimed that he knew you better than anyone. His own heart thrashed in its place at the sight of Takao being so confident and easygoing around you. While beating Takao managed to subdue his inner pain, a seed of doubt was still inevitably planted within.

The second time he felt a stronger wave of envy was when he saw you patiently waiting for Takao to come out of his class.

The third time he felt his heart do an awful kick in his upper rib cage was when he heard you spoke so highly of Takao as he walked you home. No matter how much he tried to get close to you, he knew he could never outdo Takao socially. The fact that he could only get as close as he did to you was indirectly thanks to Takao. He was silent that evening, his mind swirling from the self-hatred and jealousy of his innate friendliness to everyone… especially you.

You both ironically envied Takao for different reasons.

As soon as he waited for you to safely enter your house, he widened his eyes as his throat started to twitch. Clasping his lucky item, he bolted to the nearest grass area outside a fence to barf up his umpteenth whole hyacinth flower, with crushed petals and stems.

That’s when he knew that not even the Oha Asa could not save him from this, not unless he took a different approach.

He hated it. He could not emphasize it any further than that. The way you allowed Takao to get so close to you, the way he saw how Takao knew what was going on inside his head. He hated yet envied his natural ability to read people.

So what did he do? He only did what he only knew how to do in social situations: walk away.

He’d never admit that he was in love. Certainly not to Takao. He’ll keep denying it to him to the bitter end. He told himself that he would show Takao someday, that he was, without a doubt, more suitable to be by your side.

He wanted to get over his love for you as soon as possible so he could adorn a flower tattoo…

If he did… would you notice him too?

Would he be a man worthy of your love?

Avoiding you broke him in many ways. Every time he did, he kept rethinking about his plan. Was this a good idea?

But being the stubborn person he was, he decided to not budge. He’d figure that the Oha Asa would give him the ultimate blessings for Cancer someday soon, and he could act accordingly then. For now, he figured he should lay low.

He’ll never breathe a word of his blooming to Takao. He didn’t want to be the next person making that same mistake as your classmate, yet here he was, a perfect example of falling for the exact same trap, despite knowing the consequences.

He couldn’t help it. Not if it was you.

Yet, Takao being the sharp point-guard that he was, noticed how Midorima had trouble keeping up during practices. Midorima didn’t know what Takao told the captain, but the next thing he knew, he wasn’t allowed to practice under the pretense of “saving his strength before the games.” As much as he wanted to argue, he couldn’t do much when the captain’s glare pierced through him, daring him to defy the captain’s order. He couldn’t even play basketball anymore in order to distract himself from thoughts of you.

As he continued to think back about all the failed interactions he tried to initiate with you, his lips leaked petal after soaked petal onto the concrete as he propped his forearms and head against the wall.

“Damn it… damn it… damn it…”

He slowly slid his down, his fisted arms and head still against the wall, until he dropped his knees onto the hard floor. He tried to regain his composure, but it was difficult with his knees mushing the bloodied flowers already on the concrete and the fresher flowers ever so continuing to fall on his lap.

He kept hacking up hyacinths blossoms, hoping he could clear his throat and stabilize his breathing again before he could go back into the stadium. Even after nonstop regurgitation, its glaring yellow color kept mocking at his macabre predicament, taunting him to try to stop the flow of its fatal petals.

He slammed his fist against the wall. He had to tough it out… how else could he ever face you?

But the strength of his wall pounding told a different story. It lacked physical strength even with his unwavering conviction. Midorima was dying. He was dying and he wasn’t even able to have a single thing in his favor.

For the first time, he cursed his fate, cursed the horoscopes, cursed astrology and all the unseen deities in the cosmos for concocting up such a horrible thing for only humans.

“... It’s really frustrating… being like this…”

Midorima gave a final, painful rasp before his body completely slumped, his raised arms going limp at his sides. His body eventually fell onto his side, unable to hold up its own weight without support.

His viscid blood slowly soaked his verdant hair, his orange jersey jacket and sweats, and his golden hyacinths. Warm colors ironically encompassed his ever-growing cold corpse, illustrating a striking yet haunting still-life painting, lying in wait for the next person to discover at the back of the stadium…

#midorima x reader #midorima shintaro #midorima shintarou #midorima shintarou x reader #midorima shintaro x reader #knb #knb x reader #knb scenarios #knb angst #kuroko no basket #takao kazunari

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idy-ll-ique · 4 years

Text

This Can't Be.

Pairing: Tom Holland x F!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff (enemies to friends to lovers)

Warnings: mentions of an eating disorder, curse words lol

Requested: By anonymous

How about a Tom Holland x Reader where the reader is also famous and they fight a lot, and then a few days later she stops eating, and ends up exhausted and passes out and he goes to her house crying and apologizing, well, do it cry lol.

Summary: Y/N and Tom are in a new movie together but they don't really get along. Tom calls her a fatty, so she tries to lose weight by starving herself. After she ends up in the hospital, they make amends.

Author's Note: Hi y'all! A request after a such a long time! Also, I would like to apologize to anon if this isn't exactly what you were looking for. I still hope you like it.

---

Y/N POV:

"Tom from Marvel? Surely… surely you mean Tom Hiddleston?" I blurted out, my eyes going wide. "No, honey, Tom Holland. He's much closer to you by age, he's the perfect fit," my manager said, giving me a small smile. She knew how much I loathed that man.

"No, shut the fuck up, this can't be! It can't! You know I hate that overgrown manchild—"

"Please, Y/N. Try to understand. This movie can be your next big thing. It's offering a lot of money and they specifically requested for you. Come on, sharing one kiss with him can't be that bad," Ellie tried reasoning. "It can be that bad! I don't like him! It will be awkward! Why don't they choose Zen? She's awesome and they get along well!" I whined, covering my eyes with the palms of my hands.

"She has already done a lot of movies with him. From what I've heard, she rejected this movie and suggested your name. Come on, do it," Ellie urged tiredly. I groaned and flopped down on the bed. "Fine, I'll do it. If I end up murdering that man, try to save me," I muttered. Ellie laughed and left my room.

I curled up on the bed, my stomach turning. Just his name made bile rise up my throat and my blood boil. "Fucking Holland," I hissed under my breath. It all began on the sets of one of the movies we did together as teenagers, called Exile. The thing is, he— wait a minute.

My brows furrowed. What did he even do to me to make me hate him so much? "Come to think of it…" I mumbled, desperately trying to remember why I disliked him. "Eh, still," I huffed; even if I couldn't remember the reason, I hated him.

I got off the bed and went to the bathroom for I had an interview coming up soon.

---

Tom POV:

"Ew, Y/N? Are you fucking kidding me, mate? I can't do this movie with her," I spat, glaring at Harrison. "Why do you even hate her? She's such a sweet person," he sighed exasperatedly. "I— she just aggravates me so much! Plus, she decided to hate me first! She is never polite to me, why should I like her?" I stammered, throwing my arms up.

"Whatever. You are doing the movie and you are doing it with her. It's just one fucking kiss, dude, you'll be fine," Harrison said, rolling his eyes. I huffed and looked away when he walked out of the room. "Fucking Y/L/N," I hissed, crossing my arms.

She irked me so much. She always called me names and teased me. Except, when she teased me, she meant every word— she bullied me. I wondered if she had matured and decided to leave our childish banter behind but knowing her, I knew it was impossible. She was an overgrown child. "As if she has grown up," I laughed cruelly.

I shook my head and ridded myself from the thoughts of her, putting on my jacket. I had plans of going to the nearby bar with Harry, Haz and Sam. I wouldn't let Y/N destroy my night with the boys.

---

Y/N POV:

"Ugh, is he even coming? See, you can never expect him on time! Probably putting on his diaper or something, that takes time," I grunted, glaring at nothing on the wall in front of me. "Stop being rude, Y/N. Please, leave this old, childish and irrelevant banter and grow up. You don't even remember why you fought with him."

"It's just…" I looked away from Ellie and she rubbed my arm, a small sigh escaping her lips. "Where is she?" I heard and looked up. Tom was looking for me. "Over here, asshole," I called out and he stared at me. For a brief second, a look of confusion and shock came over his face. Then he quickly snapped out of it.

"Still the same entitled brat, I see. I would love working with you," he said with faux affection, a sarcastic smile on his face. "Likewise. Are we done here? I don't want to waste my time with you, I have lots more important things to do. To be honest, really everything is more important than you, so…" I poked my tongue out at him and walked away.

When I was about 15 feet away from him, I wrapped my arms around myself. For the first time in forever, I actually felt guilty about being so rude to him. Maybe Ellie was right, why should I fight with him if I didn't even remember why we started? I couldn't let down my guard now, though, I was too deep into this mess.

If I tried to be more cordial, he would start taunting me even more. I would snap and insult him, thus starting our fight all over again. I'd just have to swallow my guilt and keep being rude, I guess. I shook my head and walked out of the place.

---

Tom POV:

"How are you, Ellie?" Despite having enmity with Y/N, I really liked her manager. Ellie, unlike Y/N, was cute, sweet and polite. "Hi Tom, I'm good! I'm sorry about Y/N. I tried to tell her that your banter is childish but she completely ignored me," she sighed and we hugged each other.

"Y/N is a stupid bitch, you don't need to pay attention to her. She has always been rude and bratty, at least you're not like her. You're so much better," I chuckled. Ellie and Haz shook hands, smiling at each other. "Are you sure you'll be comfortable working with each other? What if the fight escalates?" Ellie asked worriedly.

"I will try my best to be friendly with her, I won't let the fight escalate. Nothing should ruin the movie," I sighed, rubbing my forehead. "I don't know why she wants to fight with you, Tom. She herself told me she didn't remember why you fought in the first place and now…"

"Wait, she what?" My eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Yes! She doesn't remember why you started your banter and now she won't listen to me when I tell her to give up the enmity," Ellie said, her lips pulled into a thin line. "Wait, I don't… I don't remember either…" I mumbled. Haz and Ellie looked at each other.

"Why don't you two just try to be friends? Please? Both of you are amazing people, this banter is nonsensical," Haz insisted. "I'll try my best but I don't know about her dram—"

"Tom."

"Ugh, sorry!"

---

Y/N POV:

"Yo, wassup pussy! Too scared, huh? No wonder your roast game is weak AF," I laughed, walking into the room with a packet of chips in my hands. Two months had passed since we started working together. For some reason, though, he absolutely didn't try to rile me up with his smartass comments. Somehow, I felt as if he was holding back, but I don't know… I had to find out.

He looked at me and rolled his eyes. "Will you shut up, fatty? I'm trying to do something here and working without your overweight ass will be so much easier! I tried to end our fight but you surely don't want to grow up! Leave and don't come back," he snapped, glaring at me.

I froze. His comment… actually hurt. It hurt me in my heart. Fatty. Overweight. I looked at the packet of chips in my hands and walked up to the nearby bin, throwing it away. I tried to hold my tears in as I ran out of the room to my trailer. Once I was in the comfort of my own trailer, I let the tears roll down my eyes.

For 15 minutes, I sat crying. I felt ashamed of insulting him, now. He grew up. I was still the rude teenager he worked with in Exile. Of course he hated me, I hadn't been nice to him at all. This was my fault. When I finally stopped crying, I looked at myself in the mirror.

I promised myself that I would be more polite to him after this.

---

Tom POV:

"Yo, where is Y/N? Our scene starts in five minutes! Ellie?" I questioned, looking at her. "The last time I checked she was in her trailer, should I go check on her?" she offered. I shook my head. "Let me go." I walked out of the room and went to her trailer. "Y/N! Don't you know our scene starts in five minutes? Get your ass up!"

When I got no snide remark in return, my brows furrowed. What was she doing in there? "Y/N?" I called out, knocking on the door. The door, I found out, was open. Against my own wish, I opened the door. A loud gasp escaped my lips. "Y/N!" I shouted, swiftly climbing into the trailer.

She had fallen on the floor, unconscious, her head resting against the bed. My eyes widened in horror when I observed her pale skin and skinny body. Her bones were poking out; it looked as though she was wearing her skin on her skeleton like spandex. "Y/N!" I whispered, picking her up. My heart broke when I noticed how lightweight she was.

"Tom? We heard you shou— what happened?" Ellie gasped, running towards me. "She's too cold, we need to take her to the hospital," I spoke rapidly. The two of us called an ambulance and within half an hour, Y/N was being taken to the hospital. Ellie and I were with her.

"What happened? She… she looks so skinny…" I asked Ellie, my chest heaving. "Fucking hell! She wasn't eating! Every time I offered food she said she wasn't hungry or that she ate already… now I know! She was starving herself! It's been 5 months, she hasn't eaten a single thing—"

5 months. I knew what happened 5 months ago. "Will you shut up, fatty?" I whispered, a sharp pain coursing through my chest. She wasn't eating because I called her fat. I shouldn't have, not when she wasn't fat at all! This was all my fault. Why did I let this happen?

"Tom, is everything okay?" I looked at Ellie, snapping out of my thoughts. "Uh, yeah— yeah I'm good," I muttered. Upon reaching the hospital, Y/N was immediately put up for an emergency operation.

I stayed at the hospital for 5 hours with Ellie, that's how long her operation took. The shooting was temporarily put on hold and news outlets started talking about Y/N being in the hospital. The hospital was shut down.

---

Y/N POV:

Darkness. All around me. What happened? Where was I? I tried to open my eyes but it hurt. I groaned and forced them open, trying to sit up. I moved my hands but found out they were connected to something. "Ms Y/L/N!" a surprised voice gasped. "Where am I?" I moaned.

"I'm Dr Watson, you're at the hospital," he said soothingly, scribbling something down on his notepad. "Like Sherlock?" I chuckled weakly, giving him a smile. "I've been asked that many times. Good to know you're feeling better, Y/N," he smiled, ruffling my hair.

He then proceeded to walk out of the room. A few seconds later, Ellie and Tom walked in. "What the fuck, Y/N? You thought starving yourself while shooting a movie was important? Why did you do this? You gave us all a heart attack!" Ellie scolded, glaring at me. I looked away, ashamed.

"I know someone didn't care," I muttered. "If you're thinking of me, you're wrong. I found you unconscious, Y/N, and brought you here. Of course I cared. I would also like to apologize for my rude remark, I shouldn't have called you that," he said, rubbing the back of his head.

I stared at him. He brought me here? "Oh, uh, thank you, I guess," I said softly, giving him a small smile. He smiled back. "I'm going to speak to the doctor, you stay here." Ellie left the room. Tom looked around and finally pointed to the bed. "May I?" he asked awkwardly.

"Sure," I laughed. He grinned and sat down near my abdomen. For a few minutes, there was silence between us. "So, I guess we should stop fighting, huh? I mean, none of us remember why we fought, so…" Tom said, looking out of the window. "You're right. Friends?"

"Friends." We shook hands, smiling at each other. "I'm sorry for all the rude things I've called you over the years, I really am," I apologized sincerely. "I'm sorry, too. Maybe we can forget all that and try to get to know each other?" Tom suggested. "I like that idea," I chuckled.

"Why did you starve yourself, though?" he asked quietly. "Every time I saw food, your voice echoed in my head. Fatty. I lost my appetite and didn't eat," I explained, looking at my lap. "I'm so sorry," he said, frowning at me. "It's okay, I'm fine now. We're friends now, I'll be fine." We gave each other small smiles.

Turns out, I had to stay at the hospital for a month and after that, the shooting would resume. Every single day for a month, Tom and I hung out at the hospital. Our getting-to-know-each-other sessions were going really well; we actually had a lot of interests in common! I would've known this, of course, if I wasn't too busy fighting with him for absolutely no reason.

---

Tom POV:

"Today's the kiss scene, right?"

I fixed my bow tie, running a hand through my hair. "Yeah. Thankfully we're friends now, it shouldn't be that awkward." I grinned at Harrison. He grinned back. "I'm glad. Your fight was pointless anyway."

We left my trailer and walked towards the sets. When I walked in, I paused— Y/N was looking adorably stunning in the dress she wore. Her hair was done amazingly and she was chatting with Ellie. Not many people were at the set today, the scene was going to be shot privately.

I had to admit, after hanging out with her for a month, I started forming a crush on her. Maybe I could ask her out on a date, see how that worked out… "Tom! Here!" I looked at Y/N, who waved me over. I walked to her, a wide smile on my face. "You're looking really beautiful," I complimented, smirking a bit when she blushed.

"Not too shabby yourself, sir," she winked. "If you're ready, shall we start?" the director called out. The two of us gave our signals and took our place. The setting was such: A ballroom, the two of us were dancing. We simply had to say I love you and give each other a kiss. Not too difficult, we would be done in five minutes.

"And… action!"

We said those three words to each other, smiled dreamily and leaned forward. When our lips connected, I felt real-life butterflies in my stomach. I liked Y/N and the kiss… the kiss was amazing. "Cut!" We pulled away. After gazing at each other for ten seconds, we burst out giggling. "You're a pretty good kisser, Tom."

"Not too shabby yourself, ma'am," I teased, repeating her previous words. "Wanna get coffee after changing?" she asked, a twinkle in her eye. "Do I? Meet you at the gates in thirty minutes, last one there's a loser!"

"Tom, come back, ugh!" Y/N yelled as I ran towards my trailer. "It's not my fault you're wearing a dress!" I yelled back, laughing loudly. "Shut up!"

Our date went extremely well, needless to say.

---

A/N: Leave a like! Thanks for reading!

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x female reader #tom holland characters #peter parker x reader #spiderman #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

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inkblotsandpapertrails · 3 years

Text

Heart of Stone {R.H.} [Pt 6]

Warnings: Angst

Pairing: Racetrack Higgins x Reader

Description: You didn’t agree with your brothers much. You didn’t like how they treated people or handled emotions and etcetera. But you could all agree that the Delancey’s were a proud family. A strong family. You didn’t get close to people, you didn’t show emotion, you didn’t let anyone have power over you, no matter what, because that made you weak. Except for the pretty newsboy with the foghorn voice and smart jokes, apparently.

A/N: i haven’t been making race suffer as much as i could be...

It was not a date.

You had been repeating that phrase in your head for the past few days. It was not a date. It was a rally. A newsboy rally, where everyone attending would be wearing simple work clothes, so it really didn’t matter if that was what you wore, too.

So why were you still hovering in front of the mirror, like if you stared at yourself hard enough, you’d magically change what you looked like?

Your clothes had been through hell the past week. Jumping out a window, crashing into a dirty alley, running through New York City, getting beat to hell and back, then running through New York City again had not been kind on your humble work clothes. Medda had done the best she could, and the woman was certainly a hell of a tailor, but it was still easy to see the faint stains of dirt and blood, the black thread against the white fabric of your shirt, and the mismatched patches decorating your trousers. You didn’t even know where your vest had run away to – the moment you’d realized it was missing, you’d spent about ten minutes panting in a corner while Medda frantically tried to calm you, panicking about what your uncle would do when he realized you’d lost an expensive vest. Then you remembered your uncle no longer took care of you anymore. You did not feel any better.

“Still staring into that mirror, Snow White?” Medda joked as she poked her head into your room.

“Evil Queen.” You said absentmindedly. “The Evil Queen’s the one with the mirror.”

“Eh, Snow White suits you better.”

You shot her a playful glare.

“Excuse you, Miss, I think you mean the Huntsman.”

Medda rolled her eyes and made her way fully into your room, and you couldn’t help the pang of fondness in your chest when you realized just how careful she was when it came to respecting your space.

“You’ve been saying all week how it isn’t a date.”

“It’s not!” You snapped far too quickly. “And it’s only been four days.”

“Potato, pot-ah-to.” Medda shrugged. “What’s got you all rattled?”

You lifted your shoulders in an awkward shrug.

“[Y/N].” Medda said firmly with a raised eyebrow.

“I-It’s just-“ You stammered quietly, feeling entirely too exposed in this situation. “I don’t care how I look, okay? I like my clothes. They’re comfortable, I – I feel comfortable in them. I’m used to them, y’know? Where I was brought up, stuff like dressing up, looking pretty, it was just... Unnecessary. It isn’t like I’d hate to dress up once in a while, but...”

“But?” Medda prompted.

“I – I know these clothes.” You stumbled over your words with how fast you were speaking. “And I know they’re messy and beaten up but they’re mine and I like them and I feel comfortable and safe in them and I just – I just...” You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. “What if Race is expecting me to wear something... More than this?”

Medda sighed, moving to stand behind you at the mirror. She placed her hands gently on your shoulders – not hard, not hurting, just a comforting presence. A silent ‘you’re okay, I’m here’.

“What do you see?”

You wrinkled your nose.

“I dunno, a kid?”

“Well, that’s a better answer than what I was expecting.” Medda chuckled. “But I meant something a little more specific.”

“Work clothes?” You frowned. “Messy hair, eyebags? What?”

“No, you stubborn little raincloud.” Medda rolled her eyes. “I see a very determined young person. Someone who felt so deeply for people they didn’t even know that they went against everything they believed in to help them. Someone who had such a strong moral compass that they risked everything they had just to do what they thought was right. Someone brave and honest and kindhearted. And I can guarantee you that Race sees the same thing.”

You averted your gaze and thumbed at the fraying hem of your shirt.

“Even if I look like this?”

Medda tipped her head back and groaned.

“Oh, you stupid kids will be the death of me.” She sighed. “Look, kiddo – why did Race start talking to you?”

You furrowed your brow as you thought back to that sweltering day in July. So much had happened since then... Could it really only have been a week? You felt the corner of your mouth twitch into a smile when you remembered Race cockily smirking at your uncle, his cheeky comments in his foghorn voice. The way he looked at you like you were this foreign object, something totally new and exciting that he’d never seen before...

“I laughed at his joke.” You said quietly. “He was making my uncle go crazy, saying all the stuff I wished I could say... So I laughed, and he heard me. And then he wouldn’t leave me alone, the asshole-“

“No cursing in my theatre, ya little wretch.” Medda flicked you over the head with her finger, making you giggle. “You see? That’s what brought him over to you. Not what you wear, or how you look. Understand?”

You nodded slowly.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” A small smile curved over your face as a spark of warmth bloomed in your chest. “I like him.”

“Oh?”

You groaned and tipped your head into Medda’s shoulder.

“I like him!” You whined. “Ugh, I like him so much. I hate it.”

“No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t.” You muttered. “But it’s... It’s so weird.”

“Oh, honey, it’s always weird the first time.” Medda snickered, patting your shoulder gently. “It’s fun and embarrassing and exciting and scary and... Oh, it’s wonderful.”

“Mostly embarrassing, though.” You said petulantly.

“And you can stop that right now.” Medda huffed, swatting your shoulder. “That’s your silly teenager brain talking. Being in love is beautiful, don’t be scared of it! I know something’s strange when you’ve never felt it, but honey, you mustn’t run from it, okay? Especially not when it’s with someone special. Don’t throw something away just because you’re not used to it.”

You swallowed heavily. A small part of you wanted to object to the ‘love’ part. You and Race had only known each other for a week – granted, you were usually always thinking of him; ‘oh, that’s a cute dog, Race would go crazy over it’, ‘wow, this sandwich is great, I should get Race to try it’, ‘I’m cold, I wish Race were here to-‘ - well, that part didn’t matter. And yeah, maybe you missed him when he wasn’t there, and maybe he made you happier than you ever thought you could be, and maybe – oh.

Oh.

“I, um.” You mumbled shakily. “I-I won’t.”

Medda looked about ready to make another smart comment when you heard a knock on your room door.

“Gotta go.” You grinned, darting out of the bathroom and ignoring Medda’s protests that ‘the damn rally’s only downstairs, [Y/N], slow your roll!’. You rolled your eyes and scampered through your bedroom, so caught up in your eagerness that you tripped over the doorway and collapsed into a firm chest.

“Whoa!” Race laughed, grabbing your shoulders to steady you. “Gee, someone’s happy to see me!”

“Shut up.” You shoved him away with a roll of your eyes. “Or I won’t come.”

“Aw, c’mon, [Y/N]!” Race whined pitifully. “After I bragged aboutcha to all the fellas?”

“You did not.”

“Sure I did! Ask Albert, he threw a chair at me.”

“You’re so weird.” You scoffed, ignoring the way your stomach flipped at the idea of Race bragging about you. The two of you looked at each other for a moment, entirely content to just smile each other and know exactly what the other was thinking, when you heard a small squeak from behind you.

You looked over your shoulder to see Medda grinning in the back of the room, her hands cupped over her mouth.

“Ignore me.” She smiled. “Ignore me, I’m not here.”

You rolled your eyes and slammed the door.

“C’mon, let’s go.” You scoffed, making your way to the stairwell.

“Hey, hey, hold on a second!” Race protested, swinging you around by your arms in a way that was so disgustingly romantic you weren’t sure how to handle it. He held you by both hands, looking you up and down like he wanted to take in every little detail.

“What’re you doing, idiot?” You snorted, avoiding his piercing gaze.

“Just lookin’ at’cha.” Race said quietly. “You look nice.”

You cocked your head and glanced at your grubby sleeves.

“I look the same as I always do, Race.”

Race met your eyes with a curious smile.

“So?”

And just like that, you were set alight. If your brothers were here, they’d scoff and scold and mock you for being so easily undone. For losing all ability to speak over one simple word. Over one simple boy. They’d tell you to grow up, to stop acting like a mooning little kid, to realize how stupid you were being and in that moment, all you could think of was how you just... Didn’t care.

You should’ve. It felt weird not to. Their grip on you had been so strong – how could it just go after a week? But the only thing you could think of was Race. Race’s smile, Race’s eyes, the way Race looked at you like you were worth something...

The way Race made you feel like you could be more than you were ever meant to be.

You took half a step forward and placed your hands on his shoulders, pulling him into a sheepish brush of lips. It lasted half a second, possibly even less, but when you pulled back, Race was looking at you with wide eyes. You bit back a proud smile. You don’t think anyone had ever looked at you like they wanted you before. Like you were something special.

“Let’s go.”

“Uh – yeah.” Race stammered, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Yeah, let’s, um... Y-You look nice.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“You said that already.”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah.” Race chuckled. “So, um...” He held out his arm. “Shall we?”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you linked your arm through his.

“You’re so dumb.” You snorted, shoving him with your shoulder, which made him shove you with his, which made you shove him hard and run down the stairs with Race hot on your heels screaming for vengeance.

You loved every second of it.

oOo

The night went from dreamlike to nightmare in about three minutes. Personally, you thought it had to be some kind of record.

“Race!” You yelled, jumping over the crowd to search for a mop of blonde hair. Everything was moving in a blur – the newsies were all in disarray, littles crying and teenagers yelling; pretty much all of the Manhattan newsies were scrambling, desperately trying to explain what had happened while the other boroughs turned on them.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a flash of golden curls.

“Race!” You cried, tearing after him as he ducked through the theatre doors. “Race, wait!”

You grabbed his wrist. He yanked it out of your grip and whirled around, and it was then you saw the tears running down his cheeks.

“Race, I-“

“Don’t.” He snapped. “I don’t – he fucking-!”

“I know.” You said quickly, running your hand soothingly down his arm. “I know, Racer, I know-“

“Do you?!” Race cried. “Tell me, [Y/N], fucking tell me how you know. When did something like this ever happen to you? When did your friend, your family, the person you risked everything for, just completely betray you in front of everyone?!”

You narrowed your eyes.

“You’re right, Race. When have I ever known what it’s like to have your family let you down and stab you in the back?”

Race softened, deflating before your eyes.

“I didn’t-“ He said quietly. “I’m sorry...”

You sighed. He looked so lost, so scared... You could only imagine the amount of pressure he had on his shoulders. You swept him into your arms and squeezed him tight, as if you were tethering him to the ground.

“I know.” You murmured in his ear. “It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

“The newsies...” Race whimpered. “They’re gonna – I don’t – Jesus, [Y/N], I ain’t ready for this!”

“I know, I know. It’s not fair.”

“I don’t know what to do!”

“It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m here with you.” You murmured, rocking him back and forth. “Come home with me, okay? Come to my room.”

“The lodgin’ house, the newsies... [Y/N], they need me-“

“You’ve been working yourself to the bone for days, Race.” You said firmly. “You need rest. One hour, alright? One hour, rest, stay with me. We’ll figure out what to do together, I promise.”

Race shuddered in your hold, his head jerking in a nod against your neck. Wordlessly, you tugged him to the theatre’s fire escape and led him up the ladders, waiting on each platform to help him up. He clung to your hand similarly to the way a child might cling to their parent’s clothes, terrified of losing them and not knowing where to go. You guided him through the window of your room and shut it behind you, dragging the thin curtains shut.

“Here.” You said gently. “Bed.”

Race shook his head.

“It’s yours, I can just-“

Without even acknowledging his protests, you nudged him backwards until the back of his knees hit the bed. You hopped onto the mattress and pulled Race down with you until you were both cuddled up on the tiny twin bed, your body crammed against the wall and Race just teetering on the edge of the mattress.

“This is your bed.” Race muttered half-heartedly. “I shouldn’t even be here right now, I gotta go the lodging’s an’-“

“Race.” You said gently. “Y’know how you’re always trying to get me to take help? It goes both ways.”

Race screwed his eyes shut and took a shuddering breath. You stroked your hand against his cheek, and tried to ignore the pang of sympathy you felt when he leaned against it in a way that was almost involuntary, as if he was so desperate for touch he hadn’t even bothered to think about keeping up his strong façade.

“It’s just us, Race.” You murmured. “You and me, okay? I’m here. And I ain’t going.” You smiled, remembering that day in the alley, the two of you excited and terrified, rocking on the brink of you didn’t even know what. “No matter how scary it is, or how bad things get. Okay?”

Race looked at you for a moment, lips parted and eyes wide and shining. His lip twitched, and that was the only warning you got before he began to cry.

You sighed and pulled him against you, holding him close to your chest as he wept into your shoulder.

“What do I do?” He sobbed pitifully. You swallowed the lump in your throat and tangled your hand in his hair, keeping him anchored to you.

“I don’t know, love.” You whispered. “Don’t think about that now, okay? Get all this out, and then we can start on the rest.”

Race made a devastating sound in the back of his throat, a broken cry that made your heart shatter inside your chest, and clutched at your clothes desperately.

“M’sorry,” he panted between his sobs, “m’sorry, m’sorry, this is so – God, you must think-“

“I think you need to cry right now.” You said firmly, pulling one of his hands away from your shirt and pressing it to your lips. “I think you need someone to hold you and tell you you’re safe. And I want to be that someone, okay? So if you need to cry, then cry. I won’t let go, Race. I want to be here.”

Another sob wracked through Race’s body. You shushed and soothed as best you could, running your fingers through his hair and rubbing circles on the back of his hand as he cried. Eventually, his heaving sobs gave way to smaller shudders, until even those were replaced by the gentle rise and fall of tired breaths. You couldn’t help but smile at his sleeping form – he looked so sweet, so at peace. He deserved that, you thought. Race deserved so, so much.

Your door creaked open. You lifted your head to see Medda poking her head into your room, looking at you with concern. She pointed at Race, mouthing something along the lines of ‘okay?’. You made a see-saw motion with your hand. She winced and motioned to come inside. You shook your head, cradling Race’s head against your chest with care. You could handle this one. Medda smiled gently and nodded, closing the door quietly behind her.

Race murmured something in his sleep, nudging his head against your now still hand. You tried not to laugh and continued your stroking, thoroughly enjoying his little hum of content as he nuzzled against your collarbone.

Yes, you decided. You could handle this one. No matter what Race was going through, you would always handle it with him. If he wanted you there, that was.

Race tightened his arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer.

You decided to take that as a yes.

(tag list: @annabethgranger123 @farfromjustordinary @yxseminx @oswin05 @theater-geek76 @wnygirl2012 @fayepummeluff @enbyalbert @inconspicuousasparagus )

#newsies x reader #racetrack higgins x reader #newsies #race x reader #heart of stone

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rankdisasster · 4 years

Text

in utero

“So, remember those prompts... well, I got more for you. Need 13 and 31, have fun with those two. ;P” requested by @fortheloveofhargrove

#13: “I thought you were dead.”

#31: “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”

warnings: ANGST

—

Billy clicked his tongue and sang along to some mindless catchy tune beneath his breath as he eyed the dark and lonely road ahead of him. The radio was playing something he’d never even heard of before, but he was in a mood so good, so rare that it didn’t even matter. Drives like these were his favorite, when the world would just shut the fuck up for a second and he could run away to fantasy land in peace without any unwelcome intrusions. His right foot eased the gas pedal further down, gradually accelerating in hopes to arrive at his destination early so he could surprise her once she’s off the plane. The blonde boy behind the wheel felt almost as if he’d gotten slapped in the face with nostalgia as he recalled the last conversation he’d had with her before leaving.

Goodbyes were a thing that were never not painful or unsettling. That all too familiar dread of not knowing whether it’ll be the last time he’d see her, hug her, hell; even fucking smell her. As if it happened only yesterday, the boy could still hear the girl’s soft weeping muffled in his chest, can practically feel the way her body moved up and down with each broken sob. It was difficult to see someone usually so fearless, so composed and put together, like some CIA agent from an action flick break down and curl into him for warmth and support. He let a couple (okay, maybe more than a couple) salty tears of his own fall as he held her in his lap.

Y/N had been an irreplaceable constant back in the glory days, her having never broken his trust nor the laundry list of promises she’d sworn once the heartache of his departure had blown over. It was foolish to think that even for a second he could get over the bitterness of starting all over again at some mundane public school. It was also just as foolish to think he could just forget about missing her as the weeks turned to months and the months added up to a year. But that was just another ploy the universe threw his way, seemingly enjoying Billy’s pain and suffering. Tonight though, tonight was gonna be different. He won’t let a single thing overshadow him any longer. He refused to listen to his inner tormentor deep down that laughed whenever he tried rationalizing how he would go about giving his confession, telling her his secret. As Billy goes over the script in his head, he clears his throat and adjusts the rear view mirror to himself as he practices his performance again. Real casual-like, he flashes a smile over at his reflection, pretending it’s her that’s watching.

“Y/N, lookin’ ah, looking good. Beautiful, actually. Know you already got a line of guys tellin’ you this every damn day, but I mean it when I say you somehow get prettier every time I see you. I really missed us hanging out, y’know? Takes me back to all those long nights, and uh... since I left I’ve been thinkin’ a lot...” he licks his lips and thinks back to the lines he’d gone over in his head like clockwork. His face twists into something more down and depressing, like whatever he’s trying to say will only burden their already troubled lives. “Too much, actually. I realize I’ve done almost nothing else worth my fucking time here except think of you whenever I feel shitty or, or like when everything is too much yet not enough. It’s been — been one of the only things I feel has real meaning to it for once, actually makes sense. ‘Cause you get me, and no one ever surprises me unless you do, and ah...” the blushing blonde shakes his head, a stray blonde curl falling to his forehead in the process of scolding himself with a swear before starting over.

“You know what? Fuck this. Let’s just go. We could just fuck off somewhere, go get a couple drinks, have a couple laughs, and... fuck. Shut up, you idiot. Don’t quote Die Hard on her for fuck sake,” he slaps his palm on his face, scoffing at his own stupidity before his eyes grew twice their size realizing how close the airport had become in the distance. He feels the same old doubt return right over his shoulder, and it smirks as if it’s being proven right; that telling her what he feels really is a horrible mistake. That it’s nothing but a rotten idea he’ll regret when she laughs in his face and turns around to fly right back to Santa Monica.

Billy’s heart is practically in his mouth by the time he pays for the ridiculously priced parking ticket and makes his way to the gate. His fucking leg somehow decides to grow a mind of its own, bouncing up and down with urgency while his teeth are occupied with chewing his fingernails down to the nub. He remembers when the roles were reversed once upon a time, when he was on the plane and she was the one agitated while sitting in the airport. Y/N still had that precious pink flush coating her cheeks when he was ready to board his flight, holding onto one of his biceps when she’d whispered something in his ear that had stuck with him:

”Don’t ever forget to remember me, okay?”

When Billy finally opens his eyes back up to the world around him, a herd of exhausted and enthusiastic travelers alike have exited the gate and met their loved ones with tired hugs and kisses. He rubs his pant leg to settle down while eagerly scoping the crowd for her hair or her face. When his wide eyes finally lands on her, the twang in his gut seeps back up to the surface, making Billy helplessly weak in the knees as he throws himself off the chair and into a pose ready for a warm welcome. He flails his arms in the air for her attention and calls out her name with repetition like a nuisance, both careless and unaware of the ruckus he’s stirred in front of all the annoyed families surrounding him. When Y/N had seen it was Billy that was screaming up a storm, her face cracks up into that same shit-eating grin he’s always known and loved then jogs over. The desperate pair reunite in the middle.

“I thought you were dead or something, asswipe! Why didn’t you ever write or call?” Y/N squealed in his arms as he picks her up and spins her around with sloppy grace. Billy bites his lower lip as he puts her down, his hands going down to cup her cheeks with tenderness, as if she were something to be cherished forever, and she is.

“Eh, some things are just better said face-to-face I guess,” he shrugged, giving her cheek a peck before bending over to pick her bags up and swing them effortlessly over his shoulder. As they bicker back and forth like the good old days while making their way to the dark busy parking lot, Billy can say with utter undeniable truth that he genuinely feels all is right with the world again.

—

“I can’t believe I’m even here right now and finally seeing this dump that stole my best friend with my own two eyes. I mean I got like eighty bucks to my name, little to no idea where I’ll stay, but I actually made it!” she hollered, playfully giving the blonde’s ass a painless smack. He reacted with a bashful jump and a laugh, struggling with her bags under pressure. “Can’t wait to see your car again ‘cause man I missed her. Old Martha still runnin’ smooth and pretty, I presume?”

Billy felt breathless as he set her luggage down to the pavement, reaching for his car keys to unlock the trunk before hauling them inside and slamming it closed. He stops to look back at her with a twinkle of mockery in his eye.

“So that’s what you named my car, huh? Martha?” he fact-checks, going over to the passengers side to open it for her, the chivalry he only abided by around her in particular coming back like it never left at all. Like they were still the same confused teenagers first meeting, getting into mischief just to busy their bland, empty agendas. She gives him a half-hearted shrug before explaining.

“Heard it’s good luck to name everything you own, amirite? Plus, you got no right making fun of that name. That’s my aunt’s name, ‘case you forgot stealing all her pot from her sock drawer and smoking it with me at school,” Y/N retorts with a finger pointed at him accusingly. The blonde behind the wheel let’s out a sarcastic ha ha at the memory, starting up the Camaro and backing out as the girl in the passenger’s side messes with the radio. The fond memories have flooded back almost uncontrollably; he can’t wait to make more, even if they only had tonight.

“In our defense that’s a shitty place to hide all that dope, alright? And uh, pretty sure that’s with boats. You name a boat and that gives you good luck. Not a car, you fuckin’ genius.”

Her face scrunches up in thought as if that’s the most mind-boggling thing she’s ever heard, and it ruins Billy with how fucking cluelessly perfect the facial expression is. He watches with intent as she snaps out of it in a hurry. “What you just said makes literally no sense, but I’ll ignore the ridicule and cut to the chase, Bilbo. What is it you’ve been up to without me or the beach? Gone insane yet?” she teased the last part in his ear, putting a hand on his right shoulder and giving it a squeeze. It takes Billy a moment to try and get used to how normal this really is, being touched by her, and he’d nearly forgotten that she’ll give any guy with a heartbeat the exact same treatment. Billy wasn’t an exception, and surely he wasn’t the first guy to get butterflies either.

With a clear of his throat, he throws back on his social mask for stability before shaking his head, the disbelief out in the open within his tone. “Are you fucking kidding, Smalls? ‘Course I did. What good is anywhere or anything when it doesn’t involve you or the goddamn beach?” Billy finished, finding his way onto the main road and putting the airport in his rear view. The driver thinks back two years prior and reminisced on all the adventures they had in Santa Monica before the inevitable happened. He fixed his hair absentmindedly (maybe even a little self-consciously) before reluctantly rambling on under his breath about what’s been ruined since he got taken away from paradise.

“Not a lot goes on ‘round here. Seriously. Place reaks like cowshit, haven’t met anyone worth my time. Max doesn’t seem to think so though, I guess. She’s even made more friends than me. Like... sure, I found this group of jackasses that worship me for knowin’ how to hold my booze, but I haven’t found anything like what we had. Not even close.” Billy swallows, looking back up to the rear view mirror like how he practiced on the way over. It isn’t the same, and he feels too vulnerable saying anything like that out loud with her sitting right fucking there. So he does what any man in the right mind would do, and reacts to his fear, his doubt. He backs down and changes the subject without looking in her direction to see her face. The boy faked a chuckle, an unconvincing one, then keeps his eyes on the road so he doesn’t fucking crash them.

“Tried to liven things up a little, but it’s so goddamn boring, y’know? So uh, anyway, that’s... yeah.”

It starts off sounding so pitiful, then it ends so fucking weak and pathetic. The blonde foolishly hoped and hoped, knowing he could do it, could put everything into English and say it. But he can’t. It gets stuck on his tongue, stuck like a gross aftertaste of something he can’t get rid of. It stings.

He feels his other leg not pressed on the gas physically twitch when the girl beside him puts a palm on his lap to soothe him of imaginary worries. Her eyes were practically scraping to get inside his soul and have it be her own place to call home when he merely glanced at her. It took an enormous amount of will power not giving in to the temptation, but he pulls it off by distracting himself with views of the dark road ahead.

“Yeah, also uh, my old man won’t know you came here for me. I made sure of it. We’ve got all night to catch up,” he ended on a high note, now finding himself grin at all the possibilities awaiting as the girl now has taken to copying him by eyeballing the lifeless scenery out the window that is Hawkins.

After a hasty moment, she hums to acknowledge him and follows it up with a soft, somewhat unsure murmur. “That’s good. Great, actually. I um, I got lots of shit to fill you in on, and I mean a lot, but... anyways, it’s not important. Fuck. Hey, there any places to eat ‘round here? I’m starving,” she finished with glee, deciding to ditch the mood-killing approach at telling him what had happened to her while he was gone.

The blonde hums as he threw a smile at the road, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in excitement, back in the groove. He had just overreacted, that’s all. Their evening didn’t have to depend on what she said back. He could tell her later on and be at peace whether or not she reciprocated his longing for more.

“Alright. Well uh, lucky for you, Smalls, I know just the right place for us. Get ready for the baddest burgers in this shit town, ‘kay?”

Y/N let out a snort after holding her breath a beat too long, shoving her partner’s shoulder before gluing her eyes to the road.

—

“... So then I’m running as fast as I possibly can to get outta there before this fat guy could catch me, he even threatened me with a goddamn gun. Surprisingly he was really fast, too, alright. Like — like The Flash fast. ‘Coulda almost beat ‘em too, but right after I’m rushing to hop this fence, I jump too high and lose my grip. The ground really knows how to whoop my ass,” Billy snorted as he incessantly raved about the shit pot he’d stirred. After trespassing private property not only on a school night, but also at four in the morning. “Oh, also landed right on the money maker,” he smirked, gesturing towards his face with a French fry covered in ketchup between his fingers. “I think I lost a tooth while I was at it, too.”

“Fucking A, Billy! Dude, to be fair, from the sound of it you really got what you deserved,” Y/N pointed out while marveling at his male idiocracy, a goofy scowl plastered on her face as she shook her head back and fourth. She dropped the napkin she’d crumbled up in her palms to her half-empty plate of a classic diner burger and the French fries that Billy had no shame in picking at. He nodded while looking like he was proud of the chaos he’d created, taking his partner’s Cherry-Vanilla Coke and slurping the remaining sip through the straw. He hadn’t had an appropriate moment to give telling her their situation another try, but he’s content with the comfortable familiarity of exchanging both horrific and grotesque stories in each other’s absence. It felt like slipping on an old pair of boots that still fit somehow, still felt good to wear and walk around in, and he wasn’t willing to unlace them or take them off quite yet.

“Yeah yeah, what goes around comes around. I know. Speaking of which, you uh, you got any news to tell me?” the boy asked suspiciously, recalling how their only topic of conversation all night had been solely regarding his whereabouts and only vague answers coming from her. “I know you weren’t up to any good either, Smalls. Pretty hard to deny, what with our reputations and all.” he grinned, pulling a nearly empty pack of Menthols and sticking one on his lip, signaling their waitress for the check with a hand gesture. Y/N’s face twists into something worrisome, brows knitted, lip bit, arms crossed like she wanted to disappear. She was hiding something.

The uneasiness doesn’t rest lightly on the boy’s shoulders at her expression, and thankfully their waitress has great timing and clears their table of their finished goods.

“Can we talk outside, maybe? Or, or just go— just go somewhere where we can —“

Billy scrambled to assure her that her wish was his command, breaking whatever unwelcome tension with a helpful hand on her shoulder. “Of course, Smalls. You don’t know where you’re staying tonight, right?”

A watery smile spreads on her small face, a slight shake of the head that says no, I’ve had no idea where the fuck to stay every night for months, dipshit.

“Look, I have a plan for you, okay? Got you money for a room at this motel not very far, I’ll take care of you.” he swore, unzipping his jacket and covering her back with it as the frosty air nipped their cheeks on the way outside. The moon glowed in the sky, acting like a night light for them as they approached Old Martha, cranking the heat in as soon as they were both safe inside.

The pair sit in silence, the boy unaware of what’s changed or made her stiffen up; the girl unaware of how she’ll confess something that only a select few know and have already judged.

“Now what— no, who the hell is it that made you this upset, huh?” he threatens to the unknown source of his best friend’s pain, already getting revved up to fly back home and settle this out with his fists. Their destinated motel only a mile away and seatbelts not even fastened.

“I’ve — I’ve been keeping something from you.”

Billy blinks stupidly and throws his hands off the steering wheel and in the air. Could this be it? Could it mean the same thing as him keeping something from her? Nothing is getting answered fast enough, and he’s so sick of waiting. “Okay? And what the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Y/N chews her bottom lip and rests her elbow on the door, her palm now gathering the dramatic beads of sweat from her forehead. “It means I’ve got a reputation; you know, I know, the whole fucking population of Santa Monica knows, Billy! You don’t need to act dumb, okay, it isn’t cute anymore.”

The driver squints in utter bewilderment, finally pushing the brake with impatience, making them bounce forward at the sudden stop. The Camaro sits outside the motel as droplets of rain grow heavier and louder as it pecks on the windows. It could almost drown out the feeling of intensity in the small space.

The blonde pinched the bridge of his nose like an irritated diva, pairing that with a seemingly apathetic eye roll. “I was only kidding back there about that shit. You know I don’t believe that nonsense about you... sleepin’ around or whatever, okay. I only believe you. I trust your word over those assholes and their tendency of spreading fucked up lies about any girl in school, ‘kay?”

Y/N felt on the brink of a drastic explosion, going as far as to open the window and sticking her head outside to feel the raindrops pool around her face, tickling her with its’ gentleness.

“Hey, get your head back in here. You’re gonna catch a cold, and then you’ll have to fly back home sick tomorrow, alright, so could we just cut the charade and talk like adults—” Billy’s reprimand was interrupted by Y/N’s surprising outburst.

“I don’t have a home anymore!” she screeched, yanking her head back inside and flipping her wet hair out of her face before crossing her arms stubbornly. “It was taken away from me. Got kicked out ‘cause of my reputation,” she trailed off as he turned his head to the side in concern mixed with confusion, his jaw wide enough to catch flies. Before spitting another useless question at her, he swallowed with unstoppable nerve and cautiously reached over to her door and roll the window back up.

“Smalls, I’m — I’m fucking sorry. So sorry. But right now all’s I wanna do is get you nice and dry. Cozy too, and in our own space with no one to bother us or... or even kick us out. I’m gonna get your bags, we’ll go fetch a room, and then continue this by then, okay?” he whispered, finding his fingers had gotten wet while delicately petting her damp locks. Her lips wiggled like she was gonna blow into tears any second, and he really hated the sight, but whoever was responsible in making her homeless was gonna be sorry they ever caused someone as close to Billy as she was so much pain.

The rain came down and soaked the blonde’s hair, color fading to a chestnut brown under the weather as he fumbled with his keys to get into the trunk as fast as possible. Her bags weren’t the lightest, but it must’ve been nearly all her belongings if she didn’t have a home anymore. They rested like rocks on his back and in his grasp as he gave Y/N the signal to hurry out as to not get any more drenched than her face had already become. Billy spits on the pavement before counting down from three on his fingers, and as soon as he got to one she was out and flailing in the rain with him, both eager to get warmth and shelter. Some giggles were even shared as they cringed feeling their clothes sticking to their bodies before finally making it inside.

The guy behind the counter wasn’t amused by their boisterous entrance, but they couldn’t find it in them to feel bad. After getting themselves a room key, they forced themselves to put a hault on their dispute for now, just like pressing the pause button on a TV remote; Billy rubbing her lower back in the elevator once he’d set her luggage down and Y/N leaning further into him as tears threatened to wilt out of her. Finding room 1408 thankfully wasn’t like a game of Where’s Waldo, and they’d both gotten comfortable quickly in the tidy space. The boy had set her things down as she fled to the restroom. He’d taken to counting all the shapes he could make out on the tacky wallpaper and got stopped at number fifty-eight. Y/N emerged from the bathroom much drier yet back in a similar state as before; frightened and uncomfortable. Taking action, he threw himself off the King sized bed and took her into his embrace.

“You’re safe with me, you do realize that, right?” he muttered, trying his hardest to keep it together like the broken girl in his arms. She trembled in a way that said she didn’t know she was safe, like she still felt wrong. In one swift movement, she shoved him backward and left him stumbling in ignorance and hurt, barely giving him a warning before she finally snapped.

“It’s true what those boys said about me, what I did with them. You would’ve known that by now if you had a goddamn brain instead of this... this giant heart of a puppy,” she cradled her head in guilt and shame for everything coming from her mouth, stepping back and avoiding his eyes all together. “I slept with the basketball team, the football team, even the fucking tennis club! You name it, I’ve fucked it. You know what’s crazy about this, other than the amount?” she asked rhetorically, her voice winding down to a broken whisper.

Billy feels his eyes well up and he doesn’t put energy into stopping it. There are veins bulging, flaming up in places he hadn’t even known he had. He recalls all the side eyed looks from the boys while he walked down the halls with her, when he’d ditch to smoke her aunt’s dope with her, or in class laughing with her. They weren’t ogling him because they thought they’d be a cute couple. They were laughing at him in silence because he was whipped for Santa Monica’s school skank.

“I don’t regret all of it; well, all but one. You, you remember Chris Hooker, he was your runner up? Chris fucking idolized you, Billy. He wanted to be like you so bad that... he thought one way of being like you was to get with me. And I let him after you left, I was so lonely that I’d do just about anything to cover up the shitstorm of losing you; and if that meant fucking this guy that always dressed like you and acted like you all the time— then so be it.” Y/N shrugged, trying to wipe the endless waterfall of tears as she watched Billy break too.

“You... you didn’t—“ he tried to deny, shaking his head and mimicking her by cradling his head in his hands as he walked in circles back and fourth, not believing anything he’s hearing. She sniffled and rubbed her nose with her sleeve before coming closer to him, looking him in the eye the first time since her confession begun.

“It happened, and I’ve never been this sorry about anything in my life, Billy. In fact, I even said sorry to him, ‘cause I couldn’t take care of it or even myself after he knocked me up and turned my life into this, this total hellhole—“

“You got kicked out because they found out,” Billy mumbles when he came to the realization, staring as if he were hypnotized by the painting of an angel hung up on the wall behind her. “They found out that you got pregnant, then you got rid of it... so they ended up punishing you.”

Y/N clung to him tighter before confirming with an uneasy nod, a sob escaping and tearing through her as she got red.

“I never named it, so I guess it didn’t bring good luck, remember?” she reminded him of their previous conversation when she first landed, stroking his arms up and down with tenderness. “You um, you missed a part of the story actually, a really important one.”

The blonde recoiled from his partner and scrubbed his arms in hysteria, feeling hopeless and weak and like all his doubt had fed to his brain was right. He wasn’t an exception. He wasn’t the good guy, he was just another guy going nuts for the same girl everybody else in their entire class ever did.

“Stop it! Stop hurting yourself, Billy, this is my fault. I should’ve told you sooner that—“

“What? What’s left to say now?”

“That I—“

”WHAT?” his fists were clenched and thick at his sides, the jealousy and the disgust overtaking him and fueling a fire that hadn’t started over night.

“That I love you!” she had shouted, both of them spiraling out of the devastating tornado of abandonment and lies, now joining together in the middle; mirroring their warm welcome at the airport just hours before. Billy’s fingers shoved her by her hips so that they were skin-to-skin as he finally went in for the kiss all the guys back home already knew but he himself had never gotten to experience. They were both gone, desperate for their touches and their actions to say everything they’d wanted to say. The apologies, the love, the hurt. She tasted lovely on his tongue, and he waited for the need to breathe to become nearly unbearable before even thinking of pulling away. Their mouths made a smacking sound as their lips left eachothers, making Billy let out a helpless, weak in the knees sounding moan.

“And to finish the missing part, um... I can’t keep kissing random strangers pretending that they’re you,” she whispers in his ear, bashfully coming back down from her tippy-toes right after giving a playful nibble to his ear and a warm kiss on the cheek. Billy thinks back to his alone time talking in the mirror, all the things he said and wrote down, practiced for this very moment. Like clockwork, he spouts the rehearsed lines out that felt like daggers holding inside.

“Smalls... since I’ve been gone, ah... all’s I’ve done is nearly nothing worth my time except, only except thinking of you when I feel like everything is a lot. And also like everything was never really enough. It’s like one of the only things I feel like has meaning to it for once. ‘Cause you get me, I get you. No one ever surprises me unless you do. And I fucking love you even more, Y/N, and I’d like to make you forget. Forget about those dicks, forget about your parents. You’re with me from here on out, you understand? Smalls?” he opens his eyes to see her doing that thing again, where she scrapes into his soul and nests inside, makes it a home for herself. It makes him melt in all the right and wrong ways imaginable.

“I understand.”

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #billy hargrove x you

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diazevan · 4 years

Text

I Hope I'm Ready (For Something New)

Happy holidays everyone!

This was written for the Irondad Fic Exchange. I loved writing this. Of course, I adored writing Irondad. However, exploring the dynamic between Tony and Michelle was a highlight!

I hope you enjoy it, @apawcalypse632-blog!

Summary:

“What is it?” Tony combs his fingers through Peter’s messy curls, “Is college work driving you crazy?” Peter doesn’t answer, “Spider-Man trouble? Need relationship advice?”

“I don’t know.” Peter cuts in, “All of them?”

“Ah, well, you see…I can help you there...work…”

“MJ’s pregnant.”

This is mostly fluff, but there is some angst.

Warnings: Description of Injury, Traumatic Cardiac Arrest, CPR.

Read on AO3 (it’s pretty long) or under the cut

Peter hates the rain.

Well, usually it doesn’t bother him, considering he is Spider-Man and has to survive every condition Mother Nature can possibly throw his way.

Right now, he isn’t Spider-Man. He is a college student, who stupidly forgot his raincoat and is struggling to survive the down-pour of the century in Tony’s old MIT hoodie.

So, yes, he hates the rain.

He pulls his paper grocery bag closer to his chest, attempting to shield it from further damage. “Ugh, crap...” He curses as he charges across the street, towards his apartment complex, neglecting to check for oncoming traffic.

A car stops abruptly, and honks, the driver starts to scream expletives without rolling down his window. Thanks to Peter’s heightened abilities, he hears every word.

Peter holds up his hand and skips over to the curb, “Sorry!”

In his defence, he does have a lot on his mind.

Peter hugs the grocery bag under his arm, he fumbles for his key card, “Come on, come on, come on.” He stutters, he pats down his sweatpants, “Ah.”

He pulls out his card, scans it, and hurries into the lobby. It’s warm and welcoming, the opposite of the storm outside.

Peter hurries to the elevator, blatantly ignoring two of his classmates from MIT.

It’s Friday night, they are already drunk. They’re all twenty-one now, and you know, the skies the limit and all that shit.

Peter didn’t have the patience to deal with drunk people. Not today.

Normally, on a night like this, he would be out patrolling or acting as a designated ‘sober friend ’ for his classmates. Sometimes, he did both. Everyone thought Peter was a super chill dude who didn’t drink but in reality, he can’t get drunk. Thank you mutated genetics, thank you very much.

Peter pulls his hood down, “Eh.” He brushes a hand through his matted wet hair. As much as he loves wearing Tony’s hoodies, they aren't exactly weather-proof.

They used to give him ‘street credibility ’ among his peers. Being the kid, who Iron Man took under his wing, did a lot for Peter, but as time passed by, that buzz died down.

Before, they treated Tony like a God. Now, they treat him like Peter’s Dad.

Peter doesn't wear Tony's hoodies for that smug reason. He wears them because they make him feel safe.

After everything that went down with Thanos, Peter likes keeping Tony close. So, moving out to Massachusetts hasn’t been easy, and Tony’s hand-me-downs ease Peter’s constant worry.

Peter runs across the corridor, to his apartment door. His teeth chatter, and he prays that Michelle remembered to turn on the heating. God knows Spider’s suck at thermoregulation.

“I’m back!” He lets out a tired sigh, as he relishes in the warmth.

Michelle paces over, she has changed out of her work clothes, into her oversized Havard sweatshirt that cuts off above her knees. She anxiously bites her nails as she studies him, “You got it?”

“Yeah.”

“Um…” Michelle stares at her feet. She sways back and forth. Peter’s never seen her at a loss for words like this before. Not since their first kiss. He understands why. He is potentially holding the key to their future in a torn and wet grocery bag, “Good.”

Peter places the bag on the small table by the door, he pulls off his hoodie, “Ew.” He tosses it to the floor, making a mental note to sort it out later.

Michelle walks over, now holding a blanket. She throws it around his shoulders, “Here.”

“Thank you.” Over the years, she has seen him pass out too many times to count because of his blatant lack of self-preservation. She’s grown accustomed to the downfalls of his abilities - including the inability to stay warm.

She bends down and grabs the bag, with a shaking hand.

Peter places a hand on her arm, “It will be alright.”

“I know.” She pulls out the Pregnancy Test and looks up at him.

Peter offers her a reassuring smile, knowing there is nothing either of them can say that hasn’t already been said. He leans up to press a kiss against her cheek, “I’ll wait here.”

She nods and rushes into the toilet, leaving Peter alone. He puts down the blanket and throws his Star Wars hoodie on.

The toilet flushes.

Peter jolts back, he yelps, “Crap...” He drums his fingers against his hip.

Michelle taps the door, “Come in.”

Peter’s stomach gives out. He isn’t ready. He scrapes his teeth across his lower lip. If he is this scared, he can’t imagine what Michelle is going through, “Hey....” He greets, as he cracks open the door.

Michelle is sat on the floor, with her back rested up against the bathtub. The test is balanced on the corner of the sink, “Hey…” She shuffles up, giving him some room, “It’s not ready yet.”

“Oh.” Peter sits beside her, she takes his hand.

They sit in silence and wait. They aren’t teenagers anymore, but sometimes it feels like they are.

Inherently having a baby isn’t terrible. They do want children but the timing sucks.

They have a plan and they’re pretty good at following it. It helps ease their anxieties and it works around Peter’s double life; they want to finish college, find a job, travel for a while, and then, maybe get married.

Kids are on the agenda, just further down. They're headstrong, if the test is positive, they can simply change their plans. That doesn’t make it any less terrifying.

Michelle squeezes his hand, “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“If this is just me... “ She stutters, “Freaking out for no reason. I mean…” She smiles unsurely, “I’m like...sixty-seven percent sure I’m being stupid.”

“No, you’re not…” Peter shakes his head, “Don’t apologise…So, the other thirty-three percent?”

“I don’t know…” She sighs, “The plan…”

Peter scoffs a laugh, “I guess Tony’s right.”

Michelle raises an eyebrow, “About what?”

“Life’s too short to follow a plan.” Peter recites, doing his best Tony impression.

“Oh, I get it…” Michelle rolls her eyes, “He’s full of wisdom.”

“More like a collection of quotes that he stole from the internet.” Peter mocks, Michelle chuckles. She looks up at the sink, her face falls, “Is it ready?”

She nods. “Yeah.” She turns, her eyes misty, “I don’t want to look….”

“Me neither.”

“Not looking isn’t gonna change the outcome.”

Peter tightens his grip around her hand, “Want me to look first?”

“I got it.” She leans up and grabs it.

Peter can’t see it from where he is sitting, so he relies on her reaction.

Michelle’s breath catches and her eyes widen.

“MJ…?” Peter speaks with caution. She looks at him, wearing a small smile, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Peter leans forward, pressing his forehead against hers, “That’s….”

“Terrifying?”

“Um-hm.” He lets out a wet laugh, “Pretty, um, great too though.”

“Yeah…” She leans back, “It is.”

Peter deflates and leans his head against her shoulder. She keeps her eyes locked on the positive test in her hand, she shakes it, like she doesn’t believe it. She wraps her free arm around her front and barks out a laugh. Peter chuckles nervously, “What?”

She lays her head on his, “Screw the plan.”

“Screw the plan. ” Peter echoes, “You think we can do this?”

“Boh.”

Peter mindlessly pulls on the string of his hoodie, “Hm.”

“It’s too early to tell…”

“Yeah.” He agrees, “We’re gonna be parents…”

“That’s usually how this thing works, dork.” She teases, “You see when a woman and man love each other…”

“Shut up.”

“We should probably work out what to do next. You should tell Stark...first.”

“Huh?”

“He’s been through some shit,” She shrugs, “He’ll probably know...what to say.”

Michelle knows Peter too well. He does want to talk to Tony, he is the first person who came to mind, along with May. Tony is Peter’s confidant, and also, his dad, in every way besides blood, “Maybe...but..”

“You tell him everything and I know--”

“What?”

“You want to talk to him.” She chuckles, “I mean, he’s a good dad, so…”

“Oh, you’re complimenting him now?”

“Don’t tell him.”

“I won’t.” Peter hesitates for a second, “I love you.”

“Eh...how cliché…” She nudges his arm, “I’m messing with you, loser...I love you too.”

The front door opens.

Tony leans back in his chair and listens out. His forehead creases. He wasn’t expecting anyone.

He skips out of his office and heads down the stairs.

He is home alone. Morgan’s spending the day at her friend’s house, and Pepper’s got meetings until late afternoon. Tony was planning to spend his alone time watching shows that he needs to catch up on.

It’s Pepper, he tells himself. He knows that she wanted nothing more than to escape her strenuous workload, and knowing her, she wouldn’t call ahead. She loves to surprise him.

“Honey, you’re home early…” He stops at the bottom of the stairs, “Oh.”

It’s not Pepper. It’s Peter.

Worry tugs at Tony’s heartstrings. Right off the bat, Peter looks like he hasn’t slept in months. He’s wearing Michelle’s hoodie and there is no telling if he chose to put it on or if it was an accident.

“Yeah…” Peter waves mockingly, “I’m not Pepper.”

“Clearly.” Tony snorts, “I didn't know you were coming over this weekend. Keeping secrets from us now, hey?”

“Kinda.” He gestures back, “MJ needed to...pick some things up, and I.. need …”

“What’s wrong, Pete?” He asks, “I can tell you’ve got something on your mind.” Peter kicks his foot forward, he chews his lip, “Kid, what do you need?”

Peter manages a half-smile, “A hug.”

“Well, you see…” Tony moves over, “You’re lucky there, kid. Hugging happens to be one of my many specialities.”

He wastes no time, he pulls Peter into his open arms. Peter sniffles, as he lays his head against his shoulder. Tony rubs circles on his back and gently shushes him.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Tony eases, “Something’s got you all riled up. I would like to think that you travelled all the way here for a hug, kiddo, but I know that’s not true…”

Peter steps back, wiping his arm over his face. Tony keeps a firm hand on his shoulder, concern settles in the pit of his stomach.

“What is it?” Tony combs his fingers through Peter’s messy curls, “Is college work driving you crazy?” Peter doesn’t answer, “Spider-Man trouble? Need relationship advice?”

“I don’t know.” Peter cuts in, “All of them?”

“Ah, well, you see…I can help you there...work…”

“MJ’s pregnant.” Peter blurts, it sounds rehearsed and Tony can tell he’s been practising in front of a mirror, for days on end. He sounds prepared, but at the same time, his voice cracks in fear. Tony prays that fear is directed to the situation at hand, and not him, “Um, and we like have…”

Tony’s jaw drops, and he stares at his kid for a moment, as he blabbers. Tony holds his hand up, it’s too much input at once, he needs a moment.

Peter freezes.

Peter is the definition of a tired college student. Now, Tony’s finding out that in a few short months, this kid would be a dad. Peter’s going to be a dad. Perhaps it is Tony’s fault, that whenever he looks at Peter, he still sees that Bambi-eyed teenager from Queens, too stupidly determined to run away from a fight.

“Um, err, okay…” Tony feels like he is malfunctioning, “Well, um...You’re having a baby…” The words sound foreign, “But...you’re a... baby .”

Peter snickers, “Um…I’m what?”

“Oh...ah, nothing. So…” Tony claps his hands, “You’re serious? You two are...”

“Having a baby?” Peter finishes, “Yeah …Are you mad?”

Tony narrows his eyes, “What?” He reaches over to reassuringly squeeze Peter’s shoulder, “Oh come on, kid...” He says softly, realising how scared Peter is, “Of course, I’m not...You’re both adults, and well...you’re gonna make pretty fantastic parents.”

Peter swallows a lump in his throat, “Are you sure?”

“As sure as the sky is blue.”

Peter snorts as he leans his forehead against Tony’s collarbone, “You need to stop letting Morgs choose the movies you watch.”

“Ah, try stopping her.” Tony wraps a strong arm around Peter’s back, “Anyway, it was Jones who introduced her to those Barbie movies.”

“True,” Peter mutters quietly.

“So…” Tony starts, Peter leans back, “I can...help out...I’ve been through...something similar.”

“I thought…” Peter’s eyebrows knit together, “...Morgan was planned.”

“She was….” Tony nudges Peter’s chin up, “You weren’t.” Peter shakes his head and giggles, “You see, Spider-Babies, I have experience there. Fourteen-year-old superheroes are very similar to energetic toddlers.”

“Oh really?”

Tony is not joking. Following Morgan around when she was a toddler, was essentially the same as chasing after Peter when he is on patrol, “Yeah really .”

Peter playfully pushes Tony’s arm, “You’re going to be a grandpa.”

“Nonno.” Tony locks an arm around Peter's back and pulls him close.

“Huh?”

“My grandkids are going to call me ‘Nonno.’” Tony explains. His heart skips a beat. Grandkids.

“Ah,” Peter grins, “I like that.” Tony places a kiss on his head.

They are the same height, but to Tony, Peter is still so small. So young. Tony wants to spend the rest of his life protecting his children because he lived through the alternative when he lost Peter, and he never wants to go through that again. He knows now, he has to learn to let go. Sooner than he wants, but times change.

“MJ will be here soon,” Peter says, “Um, don’t be awkward.”

“Me?” Tony squeaks, placing a hand on his chest, “I’m never awkward.”

Peter moves away, hiding his ashamed expression.

Tony wishes Peter would have clarified that by soon, he meant a few seconds. He catches sight of Michelle outside. She walks up the path that leads down to the train station. She buries her hands in her pockets and skips up the porch steps.

Peter rushes over, he opens the door, “Hey.”

“Hey, Tiger.” She kisses him. She steps off to the side and nervously fumbles with her fingers. She turns to Tony, and nods, “Stark.”

Tony’s mouth twitches into a smile, “Jones.” He steps ahead, pulling her into a hug.

“Oh.” She hiccups, bemused. Peter chuckles on the sidelines. It takes her a while but she moves her hands, folding them around Tony, “Hey…”

Even though Michelle and Peter are not married, Michelle and Tony’s relationship is what all ‘in-laws ’ should inspire to have. Essentially, they coexist to tease Peter, and they love every second of it. They were pushed to become closer, with everything that happens to Peter. Tony loves her, he’s more than grateful to have her in his life. He is glad that she’s the one that Peter fell in love with because they are good together, and that’s what is important.

Tony clears his throat, he steps back, “How are you?”

“Good.” She dots her eyes between the pair, “So, you know …”

“Yeah,” Tony nods, “I know.”

An invisible weight shifts off Michelle’s shoulders and she relaxes. Something warms spreads across Tony’s chest. He is the first person they’ve told. He can tell.

“Um,” Peter catches her hand, “We need to tell May...ugh, can….”

Michelle squeezes Peter’s hand, “Can you come with us?”

“Of course.”

Tony knocks on May’s door in his usual upbeat manner.

Peter and Michelle hover close by, whispering among themselves.

Tony knows how hard it’s been for them. He learnt that they've known for a month now and haven't told anyone besides the doctors. Even when you plan, having a child is scary. He panicked non-stop when Pepper was pregnant with Morgan.

May swings the door open, she welcomes him with a smile, “Tony?”

“Hey, Mrs. Parker.”

She pulls him down into a bone-crushing hug, “You should have told me you were coming over. I would have cooked something.”

“Oh….” What a shame ... “We can order in.”

May narrows her eyes, “What’s wrong?”

“Um, well…” He steps into the apartment, revealing the awkward couple.

Peter waves, “Hey, May.”

“Peter!” She exclaims overjoyed, “MJ…” She throws herself around the pair, “Hello.” She takes holds of their wrists and tugs them inside, “Come in, come in. Why didn’t you say you were coming?”

“We know you like surprises.” Peter kisses his aunt’s cheek and sits down on the couch beside Michelle.

Tony leans against the wall, May looks at him, knowingly. She’s not dumb, she knows something is up.

“What’s going on?” May asks, she settles in Happy’s armchair, “Something tells me this isn’t a normal visit.”

Peter falters, clearly overwhelmed by everything, “Um, May..you see, um...well….”

“I’m pregnant.” Michelle cuts in. Tony admires her bluntness, she cuts right to the point. Trying to get Peter to open up is like talking to a brick wall.

May sinks in the chair, “Oh.” Tony can’t read her, but her surprise is paramount, “You...you're having a baby?”

Peter nods, “...Yeah.”

“Wow.” May smiles, “That’s amazing…”

“We’ve got a plan.” Peter blurts, unable to hold anything back.

“Which is stupid…” Michelle says deadpan, “Because the last one failed.”

“Well, not everything’s perfect…” May reassures them, “But...so, what...have you…”

“We can finish college…” Michelle says, “Um, I’m not due until August anyways…”

“Then we want to move here.” Peter continues, these two finish each other’s sentences so effortlessly, it’s fucking adorable and painfully endearing, Tony’s heart can hardly take it. The kid turns, “Tony is that apartment by the Headquarters still ours if we….”

“It’s yours,” Tony tells him. No strings attached.

Peter has turned down that apartment a dozen times. He isn’t a fan of handouts, and Tony gets that. It wasn’t meant to be that. It was an idea. A thank you gift, for everything Peter does as Spider-Man. He isn’t on the payroll for his superhero duties. Even though it is technically a job. He thought being paid tainted what he does, and what he stands for. The suit is enough, for him.

Now, it’s about the baby. Peter’s thinking as logically as he can.

“Thank you.”

Tony waves his hand out, “Don’t sweat it.”

“I…” Peter sighs, “I guess being Spider-Man will take some thinking…”

“Yeah, kid.” Tony says gently, “We can sort that.”

“Well, we’re here…” May says, “Whenever you need us. You’re not alone in this.”

“Thank you.” The pair recite in unison.

May fumbles with her hands, “When do you both need to be back?”

“Um, tomorrow….”

“Oh.”

“Everything is…”

Tony skips forward and taps the back of the couch, “Chaotic?”

“We just wanted to tell you.” Peter admits, “Like...face-to-face.”

“That’s okay....” Tony ruffles Peter’s hair, “Dinner at mine tonight?”

“If that’s alright.”

“Always.”

Tony turns to May, “May?”

She is spaced, trying to understand what she’s learnt, “Um, sure.”

“Are you two planning to tell anyone else?” Tony asks.

“We’re meeting Ned and Betty for lunch.” Peter says, “We can tell the others tonight…”

Tony stifles a laugh, “Prepare yourselves for Morgan’s questions…”

Peter pales, “Oh, God.”

Michelle nudges Peter’s arm, “That’s your job.”

“What?!”

“So," Tony trails, "You need me to drop you off anywhere?”

“No thanks...” Peter points to the door, “They’re only down the street…Can Ned and Betty come tonight too?”

“Of course. We cook enough to feed an army.”

“Thanks.”

Michelle taps Peter’s leg and jumps up, “We should go.”

“Yeah.”

May gets up as the couple move to the door, “See you later.”

Tony watches them go, and it feels weird. They’re adults, they come and go as they please, but part of Tony doesn’t like seeing them leave.

May’s breath hitches. Tony turns to face her, “Hey…” He rushes to place a supporting hand on her shoulder. She dips her chin to her chest and blinks tears away, “May?”

“Tony….” She breathes sharply, “They’re having a baby.” She flaps her hands out in front of her, “Peter...is ...you know, our baby...and he is having a baby.” She shakes her head, “I’m not ready...and they seem to have it all…”

“May…” He guides her to the couch. They both fall onto it.

May hides behind her hands, “Sorry. God, I’m a mess.”

Tony snorts, “So am I.”

“They aren’t.”

“They are great..” Tony sighs, “But I think they’re more scared then they’re showing.”

“You know, Peter was six when Ben and I took him in…” May starts, “We never dealt with...this bit. Feels like I can’t help them…”

Tony gently nudged his foot against her leg, “Pep and I will deal with this. You take over in six years.”

May barks a quiet laugh, “Hm.”

“Or we just...try.”

May tucks her head on his shoulder, “Yeah.” Tony wraps an arm around her. May is like the older sister that he never had. Well, thanks to the blip, they’re the same age now, but still - she treats him like a little brother, and he’s got nothing against it. Since losing Natasha, he holds May a little closer, and loves her, knowing how easy it is to lose someone.

Tony reclines his head back, “This is selfish.”

“Huh?”

“We’re way too young to be grandparents!”

Tony stops himself, every day, from phoning Strange at some ridiculous hour in the morning to ask him if someone is messing with time. Time can’t go this quickly. It doesn’t make sense. Tony’s life used to move slowly.

He knows that he is an idiot. No one is messing with time. It’s him.

He is going to be a grandparent. He still can’t wrap his head around that. Even after five months. He’s gone through every possible emotion.

It’s been pretty morbid recently.

Michelle wants to be ahead on everything. She likes to be prepared, and she’s not a sugar coater, she says things how they are. She doesn’t do it in a harsh way, she’s gentle but straight to the point. Tony can tell that sometimes it hurts her to admit certain things. She knows that Peter being Spider-Man can be dangerous. She wants a plan for everything that could happen.

From life-altering injury to death.

Peter and Michelle are home for the weekend but they’re staying at May and Happy’s apartment.

Tony is reviewing one of Happy’s lengthy emergency plans, this one specifies what they'd do if Peter’s secret identity was revealed to the public, suddenly and accidentally. It includes scenario after scenario. They make his stomach turn. Happy did his research. Tony knew that all these schemes would work if they were ever in that situation.

A loud thump drags Tony out of his head. He leaves a sticky note next to the subsection he’s reading and hurries downstairs, “Please, please…” He prays that his stupid alpaca, Gerald, hasn’t managed to find a way out of his pen again. The last time was a mess. He stumbles to the kitchen window. Gerald is in his pen, minding his own business.

There’s a creak. It’s at the front door. It’s quiet but Tony’s on edge.

He runs over and pulls the door open. His heart sinks.

Peter is knelt on the porch steps, hugging his knees. He is leaning against the pillar, his head hangs lifelessly against his chest.

He’s in the suit. This happened on patrol.

Tony didn’t get an alert.

Peter isn’t wearing his mask. Tony can’t see it but that’s not important right now. Peter’s hurt. Like really fucking hurt. He’s covered in blood, there are multiple lacerations over his face and chest. He wheezes with every breath he takes.

Tony’s at a loss. Peter hasn’t been hurt like this in years.

“Peter!” Tony slides over on his knees, “Hey, hey, hey.....” He places a hand on his cheek, holding his head up for him, “Kid…”

Peter’s eyes are open but unfocused, “M’ster..” He leans his forehead against Tony’s collarbone.

“Alright, alright…” Tony cradles his head, “I’ve got you. Pete, talk to me.”

“T-ony…”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Peter grows heavy, “No, no...” He leans back. Peter’s eyes are shut, “Kid, open your eyes!”

“Boss, Peter is going into cardiac arrest.” Friday’s voice echoes from inside, “You need to perform need to cardiopulmonary resuscitation. A medical team is on its way."

“Shit, shit...” Tony scrambles. He moves Peter onto the porch, “Come back to me, kid.”

This isn’t happening. This can’t be fair. Everything was okay. Yes, they’re all having an existential crisis about the baby but that is a good kind of scary.

Tony knows how to do this. He’s trained. It’s a routine, but this is Peter. This is his kid.

With every rescue breath, a sob catches in his throat. “Pete?” Nothing, “Come on!”

One of Peter’s ribs cracks. Tony's stomach jumps into his throat. “Shit...” He carries on, “Please, kid, don’t do this...please” I can’t lose you. It will kill me this time, you hear me?

Tony spent hours reading protocol after protocol, all potential things that could happen to Peter. Reading them didn’t solve this, even if they were written for these situations. They didn’t reflect reality. Facts and figures don’t touch on emotion. They are just words.

This is happening. Right now.

Peter’s heart isn’t beating. He isn’t breathing.

Tony’s mind turns to the darkest of places. If Peter dies, what do they do?

Peter’s child will never know him.

How will Tony hold it together when he holds his grandchild? Knowing that their dad died in his arms. Twice.

“Peter!” Tony sobs desperately. Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go. “Fuck!”

This isn’t just about the baby.

Tony is scared. This is his kid. No matter what happens now. If he lives or if he dies. Peter is Tony’s kid.

“Peter…” Tony pleads, he brushes a hand back through Peter's sweat-ridden hair, “Please.”

Peter breathes.

Tony holds his hands up and watches to make sure it wasn’t a trick of the light, or in his head.

Peter’s chest rises and falls. Again and again.

“Hey…” Tony checks his pulse. It’s weak but it’s there. He takes his hand, “Hey, hey..” He eases, “I'm here, kiddo.”

Peter’s eyes wander around, he’s spaced. Unaware of what is happening. He catches Tony’s gaze, he squeezes his hand weakly, “T'ny?”

“Hey.” Tony keeps his voice quiet, “It’s me, kid…” He leans down to kiss his forehead, “It’s me.”

“I’m--” Peter’s face crumbles, he frantically darts his eyes around, “W’at…”

Tony shushes him, “You’re okay.” He loops his arms under Peter’s back and moves him onto his lap. Peter leans his head against his torso and curls into his hold, “You’re okay.” The Quinjet flies overhead. Peter winces at the sound. Tony pulls him closer, “I’ve got you, kid.”

“Hm…”

Tony bites on his lip, to hold back a cry. He doesn’t want to startle Peter. He leans down and presses his forehead against Peter’s.

He’s gonna be okay, he’s gonna be okay.

We’re going to be okay.

Tony won’t leave Peter’s side. Even if someone held a gun to his head.

Peter is asleep. They’re alone in a private hospital wing at the Headquarters.

Happy’s rushed off to pick May up from work. Tony had a quick call with Michelle, who’s on her way. Ned and Betty are close behind.

He’s trying to stay awake. He doesn’t want Peter to wake up alone.

The door clicks open.

It’s Michelle. She freezes, her red-rimmed eyes lock onto Peter. She looks like she’s on the edge of breaking.

“Hey, Jones.” Tony greets softly.

She jumps. She rests her hand against her small bump, and looks over, “Stark.”

Tony buckles. He rushes over and wraps his arms around her, protectively. Images of what could have happened flash through his mind. The unimaginable.

“Hey,” Michelle says gently. A tone she usually reserves for Morgan, “Hey…” She folds her hands around him, “We’re okay.”

“Yeah…” He leans back, “We’re...okay.”

She squeezes his arm, “How’s he doing?” She pokes his chest, “No sugarcoating, Stark.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

She walks over and sits beside Peter. She holds his hand, tight. Her knuckles turn pale. Tony used to roll his eyes at young love but these two, they are the real deal.

“So…” Tony sat opposite, “Um…” He can’t remember the details. It’s a blur, “I wasn’t really listening to the…” He reaches out and grabs Peter’s other hand, “You know…” Michelle extends her other arm over Peter’s chest and catches Tony’s wrist. “He took on that Rhino guy, it was...um, traumatic cardiac arrest but he’s healing. He’s got a few cracked ribs...that’s…”

“Not on you.” She cuts in. Up until that point, Tony thought that it was his fault. Even though the doctors told him he wasn’t. The assertiveness in Michelle’s voice makes him doubt that self-deprecation. He nods.

Silence grows between them. Michelle fiddles with Peter’s hand and keeps holding onto Tony’s.

Tony wishes he could go back in time to when they first met. Michelle’s distaste for him, in the beginning, seems laughable now. She wasn’t a fan of the whole billionaire thing but she outgrew that. Flash forward to now, and Tony couldn’t imagine his life without her in it. She is part of the jigsaw piece that completes Tony’s family.

It took a while, but he can read her. She is itching to ask something. He knows not to push her.

“The baby.” She mutters quietly, almost unsure.

Tony looks up, “The baby?”

Michelle shifts. Tears fill her eyes, “Are they going to be like him?”

Tony’s heart sinks. He’s already thought about that. He’s written a protocol for that. Code: Spider-Baby. Tony's kid being Spider-Man is hard enough, the idea that his grandchild could follow in the same footsteps is fucking terrifying, “You mean…”

“Spider-Man.”

“I--” His voice cracks. “Peter’s unique, Jones.” He squeezes their hands, “We know that. There’s no one else like him. There are the Inhumans, like Quake, and then there are people like Wanda, who were engineered. Peter was changed, his DNA...his genetics, mutated to make him Spider-Man. That’s part of who he is…” He falters, “And…”

Michelle lets go of Tony’s hand, and holds it against her bump, “Part of..."

“I think so, yeah.” Tony nods, “I can’t be certain.” Michelle sniffles. She wipes tears out of her eyes with the back of her hand, “Hey…”

“Uh…”

“I get it.” Tony admits, “I hate this. He does this because this is who he is…We can’t stop that.” He laughs falsely, “Trust me, I’ve...tried but this..” He stutters, “I don’t know if your kid is gonna go down the same road, but if they do, I’ve got some first-hand experience with...a certain Spider-Baby.”

“I’m not…” Peter mumbles. Michelle and Tony look at him. His eyes are still closed but he’s slowly coming to, “Spider-Baby.”

“Of course you’re not, kid.”

He so is.

Peter and Michelle’s bedroom at the Lakehouse is a shadow of what it used to be. With the baby coming in a few short weeks, Tony knew it was time for a change. Peter and Michelle designed it first, then he got to work. They stayed over whenever they felt like it, and Tony wanted them to feel welcome at all times.

This was their second home. No matter what.

Morgan already claims that her future niece or nephew is her best friend, so she must see them as much as possible.

The Star Wars wallpaper is the only thing that has gone unchanged. All the old furniture is gone. The gifts from the baby shower are all scattered by the window, ready to be used.

“What’s that?” Pepper is sat on the couch, getting her shoes on. She’s on her way out to collect Morgan from her best friend's house.

He holds out the parcel that’s just arrived, “I think..” He tears it open, “Ah, yes.” He takes out Iron Man and Spider-Man plushies, “These.”

Pepper grins, “They’re amazing.”

“I’ll put these upstairs…” He smiles, “And then the rooms done.”

“Wow.” Pepper leans her chin on her arm, “The next time they sleep in that room, the baby will be here.”

Tony chuckles. That’s a scary thought, “Yeah…” He kisses her forehead and heads upstairs, “See you later.”

He heads into the bedroom. He places the soft toys in the corner of the bedside crib, he steps back to admire his work. He is pulled from the moment when his phone rings. He digs his hand into his pocket to retrieve it.

It’s Peter. Perfect timing.

“Hey, kid!” Tony exclaims, “Guess..”

“Tony!”

Tony snaps into fight or flight mode, “What’s going on?” He heads downstairs, ready to jump into a suit and fly over.

“Sorry…Um, I’m trying to…” He’s not talking to Tony. Michelle’s voice is muffled in the background, “Yeah…” There’s a loud bang, “Ow.” Peter squeals, “No, I’m fine. I walked into the wall…” Tony debates whether he should interrupt or not, “Yeah, I’ve got the bag.”

The bag? Holy Shit.

“Peter. Is the…”

“Yeah…” Peter answers. The question doesn’t need finishing. The baby’s coming, “We’re on our way out...um, can you like...get everyone?” He stops to take a breath, “May’s not picking up and--”

“Don’t worry, kid.” Tony interrupts, “I’m on it. You concentrate on getting there, we’ll meet you.”

“Thank you…” Peter hums, “Love you.”

“Love you, Pete.” Tony smiles, “See you soon.” He hangs up and hurries downstairs, “Pepper!”

Her eyes widen in alarm, “What?”

Tony wraps an arm around the banister, “Baby Parker’s making an early appearance. “

Pepper jumps up, “The baby’s coming now?”

Two weeks early. It was always a possibility, “Just like Morgan.”

“Shit, um…”

“I’m gonna get hold of May, and make sure Happy’s gets her there. You..”

Pepper runs over and plants a kiss on his cheek, “I’ll collect Madam Secretary and we’ll meet you there.”

“Alright…”

The waiting area at the Headquarters Infirmary is desolate. There’s not a living soul in sight.

Tony and Rhodey are alone.

Tony leans his weight on a pillar, he’s messaged Peter and is waiting for a response. Rhodey is busy staring him down, with a knowing smirk, “What?” Tony whines.

Rhodey shrugs, “Nothing.”

“Tony!” Peter shouts. He runs around the corner and skids to an abrupt halt, “Hey…” He pulls Tony into a hug, “Wow.” He’s out of breath. It takes a lot for Peter to get like this. Well, this is ‘a lot.’

“Kid…” Tony pats his back, “You good?”

Peter clings to Tony’s arms and leans back, “I think so.” He turns, “Hey, Rhodey.”

Rhodey nudges his bicep, “Hey, Pete.”

“Um..” Peter leans his head down, he takes a deep breath and points back, “I better get back.”

Tony taps his shoulder, “We’ll be here, Pete.”

“Thank you…” Peter dashes away.

Rhodey snorts, “Oh…” He places a hand on Tony’s shoulder, “He’s totally going to pass out.”

Tony rolls his eyes, “No, he won’t.”

“You did.”

Tony’s jaw drops. He playfully pushes his friend away, “Not this again.” He groans, “I slipped over.”

“You keep telling yourself that, Tones.” Rhodey laughs, “I have to say the kid’s got some guts, I mean at least he doesn’t look like he’s going to throw up.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you too.”

Eight hours go by, slowly. Still no baby.

May’s in the room with Michelle and Peter, so Tony hasn’t seen her all day.

Everyone is dotted around the waiting lounge. Ned is sat nearby, with his back rested against one of the couches. Betty is tucked against his side, snoring on his shoulder. Morgan is scrawled across the floor, with her head rested on Ned’s hip.

Rhodey is in an armchair, fast asleep. He’s holding a half-finished cup of cold coffee in his hand, that’s a disaster waiting to happen. Tony can’t wait.

Pepper is tucked up on the couch next to Tony.

He's the only one still awake.

Footsteps echo close to the room.

Tony sits up.

It might be Happy. He left after noticing a nurse wasn’t wearing his identification badge.

Peter walks in. Dead on his feet, “Tony?” He holds a hand in front of his mouth and yawns.

“Hey, kiddo.” Tony smiles, he holds his hands up and gestures to everyone in the room, “You see this bunch of lightweights?”

“Yeah.” Peter laughs, “I can’t blame them.” He stretches his hands up over his head, “You not sleeping?

Tony jumps onto his feet, and closes the distance between them, “I’ll sleep when you do. How’s everything?”

“Okay.” Peter sighs, “Um, midwives think it’s gonna be a long night.”

He moves and tucks his face against Tony’s chest, “How are you holding up?” Tony asks, with a laugh.

“I’m good.” Peter mutters, “I came to get…” He holds out a hand, and points to the vending machines, “Some water.”

“Oh.” Tony pats his back, “You wait here. I’ll get a few bottles.”

Peter came and left.

Tony is now more awake than ever. Everyone is still asleep. Even Happy - who came back in, promised Tony he’d stay awake, and then fell asleep within five minutes.

Tony paces around, muttering quietly under his breath as he rubs his hands together, nervously. Having children and being minutes away from being a grandfather has made him soft. He ended up taking Rhodey’s coffee cup out of his hands, saving him from that embarrassment.

A crash comes from outside the room.

Tony jumps out his skin, “Jesus.”

“Shit.” Peter curses, “Ow.” He stumbles into the room, almost pulling the door off its hinges, he nurses his wrist in his hand. He might be Spider-Man but he is constantly running into walls.

The room stirs. Ned sleepily leans up, “What…”

“Oh…” Peter holds onto the doorframe, “I’m gonna puke.”

Tony runs over. They’re here. The baby’s here, “You good?”

Peter catches his wrists, “It’s a boy.”

Tony’s eyes fill with tears, and he smiles. A boy.

The room erupts in excited mumbles and celebrations.

“I knew it!” Morgan shouts. Suddenly wide awake. She drums her hands against Ned’s arm, “I told you.”

“A boy?” Tony sniffles, “That’s…”

Peter pulls on his arm, “Come on.” He guides him out, down the corridor, and into a room.

Michelle is sat up, cradling her son. Tony can’t see his face, it’s covered by her hand. He’s wearing the small knitted Spider-Man hat that Rhodey bought. May is in the chair, watching them with misty-eyes.

“Hey.” Tony coos quietly.

Michelle looks up, she smiles, “Hey, Stark.”

Tony darts his eyes between Michelle and Peter. He stops, to focus on the baby.

The last few months feel like a dream. Like it wasn’t real. It is now.

Peter pushes him forward, and they approach the side of the bed.

Tony leans over to see. His grandson is perfect. He looks like both Peter and Michelle, but he has Peter’s eyes without a doubt. Tony would know those puppy dog eyes anywhere.

“Wow.” Tony grins, “Can’t believe you two managed to pull this off.”

Peter crosses his arms, “Shut up.”

“You can talk, Tiger….” Michelle mocks, “You threw up.”

Tony turns on his heel, Peter holds his hands up in the air, “What…”

“You’re never gonna live that down,” Tony tells him.

“Never,” May giggles.

“Hey, Stark...” Michelle moves, “You wanna hold him?”

Tony’s heart flutters, “Of course.” He crouches down, with Michelle’s help he guides his grandson into his arms.

He’s awake but isn’t crying. His big brown eyes dart around. Taking everything in that they can.

Tony bounces him, “Hey…”

Peter holds out a finger, his son grasps it, “Benjamin.”

Tony looks at May, with glazed eyes. She smiles.

“Hey there, Ben.” Tony bops his nose, “I’m your Nonno.”

Everything clouds Tony’s mind.

A series of ‘what ifs ’ and ‘buts .’

Thanos took Peter away. Michelle and May too. They were gone, for five long years. It could have gone differently. Ben wouldn’t exist if Tony hadn’t discovered time travel when he did. So many little things happened to make this day a possibility. Tony’s only just met Ben and the world would be an empty place without him.

Ben notices Tony’s bright red prosthetic arm, he stares at it with wide curious eyes. Tony chuckles.

This is his life. He loves it and he wouldn’t change a thing, “Welcome to the world, kid.”

Shortly after everyone met Ben, Michelle fell asleep.

Peter took Ben onto the balcony, to see the outside world.

Tony steps out and tip-toes over, “Hey, Pete.” Ben is fast asleep, curled against his dad’s chest, “Well done, you’re a natural.”

“Yeah?”

“Morgan hardly slept...” Tony snorts, “We had to hold her under the fan in the kitchen.”

Peter grins, “If Ben’s anything like I was...he’ll sleep most of the time.”

“Like you were?” Tony raises an eyebrow, “You still do. You’re either out there being Spider-Man or sleeping on the couch.”

“That’s an exaggeration.”

Tony shakes his head, “It really isn’t.”

Peter laughs. It fades. He studies Ben, fear etches over his face.

His life is different now. A good different but Tony knows how scary that can be.

Tony plants a kiss on Peter’s temple, “You’ve got this sorted, kid.”

Peter’s mouth twist into a smirk, he looks at Tony with narrowed eyes, “Kid?” He chuckles, he motions his head towards Ben.

Tony rolls his eyes, “I’m not letting it drop, kid. ”

“Okay, okay...” Peter rubs a thumb across Ben’s cheek as he carefully bounces him.

“You’ll always be my kid.”

Peter leans his head against Tony’s shoulder, “I know.”

#tony stark #peter parker #irondad & spideyson #irondad #spideychelle #michelle jones #irondad fanfiction #peter and tony #peter x michelle #tony and mj's dymanic was my favourite to write!#irondad fic exchange

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thorne93 · 5 years

Text

12 Days of Christmas (Cuddling For Warmth - Remy Lebeau)

Prompt: December 22 - Cuddling for Warmth - Remy Lebeau

Word Count: 2725

Warnings: language… angst

Notes: For the Marvelous Christmas Challenge @until-theend-oftheline @like-a-bag-of-potatoes…. Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes and @carryonmyswansong (thank you both, very much).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The mansion was alive with wonder, excitement, and children’s excited cries. As a student teacher at the mansion, you promised Professor X to stay during the holidays to help keep a handle on the kids who couldn’t go home. So far though, they were only having fun. Chasing each other around the grounds, ice skating on the pond, decorating each room. Storm had a class earlier this week for everyone to create their own ornaments or garland.

With only two days to go until Christmas, you were rather excited yourself. All the teachers had put their names in for Secret Santa. The students would get each get one gift. Charles put some back from each tuition to cover a gift of decent size. And each year, the children were asked to give a Christmas list. From that list, the teachers picked one gift.

This way, it ensured everyone got something under the tree, and it was usually a pretty magical time. This year, you’d pulled Scott’s name for Secret Santa. All you had to do was ask Jean to tell you what he really wanted. It was a piece of cake. He wanted a new bike helmet.

As for your secret Santa, you had no idea who was getting your gift. That was the whole point, but typically, every year, you had a hunch. This year, not so much. Which was absolutely okay.

It was getting a little late, around 10:00 pm. You could hear the kids screaming and running in the halls. Charles usually wouldn’t allow this behavior, but classes were out for the holidays, and it was only two days to Christmas, so he let the kids do as they please so long as no one got hurt. As for you, you were in pajamas in your bed, reading. In fact, you were about to go to sleep shortly, until a knock came at your door, then it cracked open.

“Y/N? You awake?” The drawl was unmistakable.

“Yeah, what’s up?” you asked, sitting up in the bed. You tried your best to look extra presentable for the charming Cajun. To say you had a soft spot for Remy would be putting it lightly. Being a southern belle yourself, you had instantly fallen for Mr. LeBeau, his accent, his charm, his mutation, and his ultimate compassion.

Remy was an instructor, but he didn’t teach classes. He was almost like a tutor. He was more there as a stand in for kids needing to understand their power or working on how to control it. He didn’t lecture, or teach History or English or Literature. He didn’t have a study plan. He was just a hands on instructor, who wanted to help the kids when they needed it. He was available before classes, during lunch, and after classes. His ability and extent of patience had made you swoon long ago.

“Saw your light was still on. Didn’t know if you might be up for gettin’ hot chocolate downstairs or maybe goin’ down to watch a Christmas movie with me and the kids?”

Just as you were about to contemplate the offers, the lights suddenly went out. Shrieks and cries went all throughout the mansion. Suddenly, Charles voice invaded everyone’s mind.

“Everyone remain calm, the storm must’ve knocked the power out. Please stay in the room you are in right now while Hank and I look at the fuse box.”

Remy and you peered at each other for a moment. “Well, you heard the man,” he stated as he stepped into your room, a cheeky grin on his face before he shut the door.

“And just what gives you the right to look yourself inside a lady’s bedroom at night?” you demanded jokingly.

“Professor said so. He does not want us out roamin’ the halls.” With that, he grabbed the chair from your desk and pulled it to sit at the end of your bed. “So who did you get for secret santa?”

“I am not tellin’ you that,” you chastised.

“Why? Is it moi?” he asked, teasing you. “That’s the only reason you wouldn’t tell me.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but no, it isn’t. The word ‘secret’ is in the name, Remy. I’m not gonna tell you who I got.”

“You take things too seriously,” he accused with a grin.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Maybe you don’t take things seriously enough.”

“Now that’s just mean,” he feigned, putting his hand over his chest.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and letting out a laugh. “Oh please, I couldn’t insult you if I tried. Your ego is impenetrable.”

With that, he smiled and straightened in his chair. “Why, thank you for noticin’. I work on it a lot.”

“Speaking of egos,” you began, “how is Reggie?”

Reggie was a young mutant, fifteen, who had a peculiar mutation that was a little hard to get ahold of. Rather close to that of Storm’s, Remy’s, or even Scott or Alex’s powers. Yet, for the last five years he kept assuring his parents he had it under control -- that was, until he took out a neighbor’s house one day. Thankfully, the neighbors weren’t home and no one was hurt. Reggie’s parents were loving, supportive, and concerned about they ordeal. They didn’t get mad, but they did put their foot down about him coming to the school. They trusted Reggie with his powers until this summer when they came by with him. They said they wanted him to learn how to properly handle them, because they were worried he might hurt himself or someone else and not mean it.

Remy, was his tutor. He saw him twice a week after his daily classes. Being a teenager, and rebellious, he hated the idea of needing any special attention.

“Ah, he’s still a little spitfire, but I think I’m gettin’ through to him. When I started to show him that having the ultimate, precision and control over his powers was pretty cool, he started to receive my message better. How’s your classes goin’?” he wondered, putting his boot on the foot of your bed, his hands behind his head, and leaning back.

“Rather splendid,” you commented. You did have a study plan though, one that Jean and Charles oversaw. They reviewed your itinerary every week and it had to be approved, and it always was. Your area lied in defense against mutation attacks and computer information systems. It was two separate classes, but you taught every day of the week. “Yeah, yeah. Julie has finally picked up a lot better combat. Aaron helped Jason fix a hard drive this week, so I was very proud of them.”

“That’s great to hear,” he complimented genuinely. “How come you didn’t go home for the holidays?”

“The kids need me here… Well, Charles and Hank need me here,” you corrected with a smile and slight laugh. “My family understands that this is important to me, and encouraged me to be here for the kids, and Charles.”

“Very kind of you, and your family.”

“What about you, cajun? Why aren’t you down South?” you wondered.

He huffed out some air. “Oh, same as you, I s’pose. Thought the staff might need a little help with some of the youngins stickin’ around.”

“Always a noble cause, eh, Remy?” you slightly teased with a coy smile. You peered at him with a sad smile. “You never have found your parents, have you?”

He shook his head, a pensive, but sorrow filled smile on his face. You could tell he was trying to hide the pain, disguise it as charm and wit, but not all that deep down you knew Remy was missing a family. He knew some thieves and friends down in New Orleans, certainly someone he could spend a holiday with. Somehow, you felt, that he’d found a new family though, here, and maybe that’s why he stayed during the holidays.

“Nah, but I figure maybe it’s all for the best. They don’t want me... Been too long, and I am… me.”

You frowned. “Remy, how could they not want you? You’re spectacular.”

“I grew up with thieves and cheats, Y/N,” he retorted with disdain. “I’m not exactly a model citizen.”

“You can’t help what the LeBeau clan did to you…”

“No, but I got these eyes.. That’s why they abandon me, mon cher,” he informed with a slight sadness in his voice.

“Then they are the most stupid people in this world,” you stated with confidence. “Anyone willing to give you up has to be the biggest fool I’ve ever met.”

A gentle smile tugged at his handsome lips before he let himself fall from leaning back in the chair. “It’s gettin’ cold as hell out here. Move over, I’m comin’ in,” he said before he stood up and took his boots off.

It was clear he was changing the subject, but for the past thirty minutes, the temperature had dropped to icy due to the lack of power and heat. You scooted over to the left on your bed and before you knew it, Remy had burrowed himself in the blankets beside you. This, wasn’t unusual. He was your closest friend at the mansion and sometimes you two wound up sleeping on the couch together, or snuggling up to watch a movie in your room on Sunday afternoons, usually slipping into a nap.

“Better?” you inquired once you settled down beside him.

“At least I ain’t g’ttn frostbite,” he retorted, putting his hands on his face and rubbing them backwards. “When is the damn power g’n be back on?”

Shaking your head, you answered, “No idea.”

The two of you lied in comfortable silence for a few minutes before he spoke again, curiosity in his voice. “Did ah eva tell you that I was engaged once b’fore?”

You frowned, turning just your head to face him. “What? No? When? How?” You couldn’t help the little green eyed monster that creeped up inside you.

He kept his face aimed at your high, dark ceiling, sighing. “Long… long ago. It was to a girl named Bella Donna. It was actually an arranged marriage.”

“Wow. Really? What was the gain?”

“Settlin’ a feud between two of the bands of criminals.” He let out a huff of air. “But her brother was against it, and he challenged me to a duel.”

A gasped escaped without your permission. The thought of Remy doing something so… dangerous, made your heart still in your chest.

“Well, so what happened?” you urged when he didn’t continue, your face turned back towards the ceiling.

“After the wedding…when Julien had challenged me, I agreed. Bein’ raised as ah was, it wasn’t taken lightly. So I agreed to his terms. Only when we got there, the bastard was such a terrible shot…” He stopped, trying to collect his thoughts, you supposed. “His shot breezed past my shoulder and by pure reflex, I shot back, hit him square in the chest.”

You frowned. You knew Gambit had a terribly sad upbringing, another thing that had made you fall easily in love with him. Someone born from so much sorrow brought so much joy into the world. He was so… good, and pure, his dark past was in no way a reflection of him now.

“That’s so sad… How… how did your wife take it?”

“Uh, actually, I didn’t really know. They banished me from N’awlins for a long time. Til Bella Donna needed my help with somethin’. Professor let me take the X-Men back down to help her, but when we all got to an astral plane… I don’ know, somethan happened and Bella Donna died... “

A full second passed before you grabbed his hand under the blankets. All you wanted to do with the action was comfort him, show your support.

“I’m so sorry that happened. Do you miss her?”

“I did. But it turns out she’s alive, livin’ down in N’awlins.”

This took you aback. Gambit had a wife, but he didn’t… miss her? Sure it was arranged but…

“So… you don’t miss her?”

He let out a breath. “Well… I did, at first. We sort of grew up together. She was my first love. But after her family banished me, and I sort of got out on my own, well, there wasn’t much to miss. Then when I found out she was alive, I just wanted her to be happy. I got no desire to be with her.”

“Are you still married to her?”

“No, no. We took care of that years ago. Cut ties. Now, we don’t talk, but it’s alright. She’s got her life, I got mine.”

A blip of silence fell over you two. “I’m so sorry all of that happened to you, Remy,” you suddenly offered, your voice sad, laced with sincerity. You wanted nothing more than to hug him and make any pain or guilt go away.

“Did you really mean what you said, about the… uh... about my parents not wantin’ me?” he asked, not seeming to want to address his past directly.

You turned your head to face him, keeping your head settled on the pillow. “Of course. Remy, I think you’re wonderful. It’s a privilege to know you.”

“You’re not just sayin’ that, are you?”

“No, no. There’s a reason you’re my best friend. I like you. You’re a good person. In fact, I’m rather jealous of this Bella Donna lady. Anyone who gets to be your wife is one hell of a lucky woman.”

Now, it was his turn to face you.

“You really mean that? You think… you think it’s lucky to be my betrothed?”

“I think she hit the jackpot if she got you. Arranged or otherwise.”

He stared at you for just a few moments more, making your cheeks heat to a million degrees.

“Uh, Remy, what’re you staring at?” you wondered.

“Does it bother you?”

“Only because I don’t know what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinkin’ you are the sweetest, most kind, most compassionate, most powerful, person I’ve ever met. I’m thinkin’ you make me laugh when I don’t wanna. You never let my past represent me. You look past all my flaws. I’m thinkin’ you’re just about damned perfect, Y/N and I’d like nothin’ more than to kiss you right now.”

“Then what are you waitin’ for?” you asked in a soft voice and before you could blink, he let go of your hand to wrap you in a tight embrace. Fingers danced through your hair with skill, making you shiver from his touch. His face slowly got closer to yours, as you helped close the gap from your side as well. Before you knew it, you two finally connected, igniting your body like a Christmas tree. His lips were surprisingly softer than you expected, but firm and plump. Surprising you, his hand slid down your side, around your waist, where he pulled you closer to him, pressing you against his body. The sensation made you yearn to run your hands into his long hair, hold him close, stay in his arms forever.

Suddenly, the power came back on, lights flooded your room, your bedside clock turned on, your TV regained power, and the mystique that had bewitched the room, was now slowly receding.

The two of you broke apart and stared at each other, unsure what to say. His arm was still around your waist, and your arm was still on his back, but neither of you spoke.

“Wow… That was…” You breathed, slightly laughing.

“Yeah… That… uh… was….” he agreed.

The next thing was Charles back in everyone’s head. “Alright everyone, it’s late. Go to bed. You’re free to leave the rooms you’re in.”

The two of you came back out of the informative thought, peering at one another.

“Do… you wanna leave?” you tentatively asked him, wondering where you two stood now.

“Not at all, unless you want me to go?” he questioned, slightly worried about another rejection.

You brought your hand up, your fingertips stroking his face. “I never want you to go anywhere, Remy. I want you right here, in my arms. So long as you’ll have me.”

An adoring smile touched his face as he pulled you closer again. “I’ll never want anything, or anyone but you, Y/F/N.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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@kaeling

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@heyitscam99

@yknott81

@sorryimacrapwriter

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@xxqueenofisolationxx

@little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama

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@alyssaj23

@sea040561

@princess76179

@thisismysecrethappyplace

@sarahp879

@malfoysqueen14

@ellallheart

@breezy1415

Christmas Tag List:

@stooch-betch

#cuddling for warmth with remy lebeau #remy lebeau x reader #remy lebeau fic #gambit x reader #gambit fic #gambit #remy lebeau

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nothing-but-kpop-dreams · 6 years

Text

Where (3/3)

Author’s note: I am so happy from all the attention part 2 got! Thank you all for liking it! I really (j)hope (I’m not gonna stop) you all like this ending.

Genre: Angst (y/n x Jhope)

Word count: 2180

Summary: Jhope feels bad about his fight with y/n. He is determined to ake things right when he gets back home.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Alternate Ending | Alternate Ending Part 2

JHOPE POV

The sounds of car honks and distance voices accompanied him on his walk down the secret path from the parking garage to the back door of the company building. He was tired, hungry, and all around frustrated. All he wanted to do was get the day over with.

His mind weighed heavy on him, so much so that it was taking a physical toll on his body. There was no power in his arms and he could barely keep walking. He felt like shit. The only thing he could think about was his fight with y/n. He regretted every word he said, not to mention how ugly he said it all. On top of it all, he just leaving her there crying. How could he do that? Even he couldn’t believe he did that.

“Hahahah! Stop! Hahahah!” He could hear a familiar laugh not too far away. He looked up from his feet, seeing a couple hanging around the back entrance like a pair of teenagers. Based on the girl’s outfit, it was Soomin and she was all smiles. It had been a while since he’d seen her do so… And now when he thought about it, it had been even longer since he had seen y/n smile either.

The man with his arms wrapped around Soomin’s waist and his head at her neck was a rather large individual. He looked almost twice her size. He had broad shoulders that matched the rest of his beefy body.

“Oh Hoseok!” Soomin so happened to have her eyes fall on him. “Come meet my husband!” she said as she waved him over.

Hoseok put on a fake smile, one he learned to perfect over the years. “Hello!” He said kindly as he and the giant man exchanged quick bow once within a few feet of each other. “I’m Hoseok! It’s nice to meet you. Soomin has told me alot about you.”

“Good things I hope!” The man laughed.

Hoseok and Soomin exchanged a quick look before laughing along.

“And I’m Minseok, if Soomin hasn’t already told you that.” He smile.

The tall man’s smile threw his off a bit. It was a very warm smile, some people (Soomin) could even say it was an adorable smile. It actually was like how Soomin described, which was very hard to believe with how intimidating her husband looked. And then it hit him. Even is their darkest moments, Soomin always had something nice to say about her husband, even if it was only a distant memory at times. “Does y/n still ever say nice things about me?” he thought

“So Hoseok, are you the one my wifey here does make up for?”

Soomin wasn’t kidding about his stupid pet names either.

“Yeah! She does our makeup, but when things get as busy as they are now, we have our own stylists. I’ve had the pleasure of having Soomin do my makeup. And between you and me, your wife is the best stylist we got!”

His comment made Soomin blush and she hid her face in her husband’s arm. “Oh stop!” she giggled. “I only do my job, it’s no big deal!”

Minseok smiled down at Soomin, but then he turned to Hoseok with a not so happy expression. “Dude, honest question here… How do you do it to have makeup on? When Soomin and I first started dating, she kept wanting to practice on me, but i hated it. It felt so- so…”

“Gay?” He said the exact word he knew Minseok was gonna use. It was a question he got way too many times. Now for Minseok to ask this, he was either trying to give a low blow or he was too curious for his own good. Either way, he pretended like it didn’t bother him.

“Yeah!”

He shrugged. “Eh, you get used to it.” he said nonchalantly. “Weird thing is, no matter how “gay” it is, we still got girls throwing themselves at us!”

This was a comment that made Minseok and Soomin laugh, but he only felt ugly saying it. How could i tell y/n something like that?

“Well, I’ll let you both get back to that photoshoot. Bye, it was nice getting to meet you.” Minseok said, giving Jhope a tight gripped handshake. It was one that said “Don’t get too close to my wife or I’ll kick your ass”

Then Minseok turned to Soomin. He gave her a deep kiss good bye. It was another sign. That kiss was mostly to show him. “She is mine. Don’t forget that.”

“See you at home! Love you!” he said to Soomin as he walked off.

“Love you!” Soomin shouted back with a wave

“So that was your husband?” he began only when he knew Minseok was out of sight. “He seems… nice?”

“Oh please, I know you were feeling awkward. I can see your fake smile from a mile away!” Soomin laughed.

“Well yeah! Yesterday you were complaining about him and today you are all hugs and kisses. What happened?” He asked as he made his way to the door, holding it open for her to go in first.

“Last night we talked… and ended up fighting as always… but this time he heard me out. Actually, we heard each other out.”

“Oh really?”

“Yup! And now I can confidently say that we are eye to eye again.”

“So what was the big issue?”

“Work.” she said out right. “Turns out I wasn’t the only one feeling work taking him away. So that’s why, when you all take off to Japan. We’ll be going off to Hawaii!” she cheered. “We are finally gonna take our dream honeymoon!”

“Wow! I am honestly jealous!”

“Haha don’t be. You and Y/n are gonna have your own honeymoon soon too! I am just dying for you guys to finally get married. By the way, how was lunch with y/n?”

“Oh...uh... It was fine. Just a regular lunch.” he lied

But on Soomin’s face he saw a frown.

She knows

“You know, I’m really sorry that I steal you away from her alot. I still can’t help but feel bad that I take up your time complaining about my problems.”

She’s clueless. Thank goodness.

“Nah, It’s alright.” he said automatically. “What else are friends for!”

They continued to walk down the lowest floor with slow strides. Neither one of them was in too much of a rush to get to the set. As if by second nature, they navigated the many hallways to the elevator as they continued their talk.

“Gosh, Y/n is so lucky to have you.”

Those words were a stab to the chest. If only she knew what a piece of shit he really was.

He couldn’t even get himself to say anything. He just looked at her, feeling all kinds of fucked up.

“You’re such a great friend to me. I can only imagine how great of a boyfriend you are to y/n!”

“...Thanks.” he mumbled.

By now they reached the elevator. He pressed the button and in a matter of seconds the double doors slid open and they stepped inside.

“Oh shit!” Soomin suddenly gasped, momentarily taking Hoseok out of his self loathing thoughts

“What?!?”

Soomin ignored him. She frantically dug through her purse and pulled out her cellphone. She made a call and soon he could vaguely hear Minseok’s low voice on her speaker.

“Babe! The water bill!” she said frantically “We need to pay it!”

“But it isn’t due til the 20th.” Minseok pointed out.

“It’s the 21st!”

Oh fuck.

“Shit!” Minseok gasped. “I’ll pay it on the way home!”

“Ok thanks babe. Bye!” Soomin sighed in relief as she hung up.

The elevator dinged. They both stepped out, but instead of following Soomin towards the set, Hoseok made a hard left in the direction of the bathrooms. He ignored Soomin calling out to him and he locked himself in a stall.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He grunted to himself.

He pulled out his phone and called y/n. Not to his surprise, his call went straight to voicemail. He called again and again, and each time had the same results. There was no other choice but to leave a voice mail and hope that she would hear it later.

His body was tense as he let the little voice instruct him on what to do. At the sound of the beep, his mind went blank.

“Hi- Hey Jagi!”

Shit that sounded weird didn’t it?

“Jagi, I’m an asshole! I really am! I’m so sorry that I forgot our anniversary. And I’m so sorry that -... I’m sorry I yelled at you.” he said with shame. “I feel like shit for it. Look, baby, uh, I have a photoshoot today, so chances are I get to come home earlier! I’ll- I’ll pick us up something to eat and- and you can yell at me all you want! I deserve it! And I promise that I will make it up to you… I gotta go now, but y/n, I love you! I’ll see you when i get home. Bye.”

---

11pm. It was a tough day on set. Nothing seemed to go right. The camera died on more than one occasional for no explainable reason, the back drop feel, and he even tripped in the middle of a picture when the cameras finally started to work. So now it was four hours past the time he had hoped to be home. He tried giving y/n a call any chance he had, but still all he got was her voicemail.

“Thanks.” he said to the cashier behind the register who handed his bag of warmed up burgers. If there was one things he liked about late nights, it was the fact that people were too tired to care who he was.

He tried his best to get home as fast as possible. It was no use though, the time of night had no effect on the traffic. It wasn’t until a bit after midnight that he was able to open the door and take a step into his dark living room

“Jagi, I’m home!” he called out.

Please be awake.

There was no response. The apartment was as quiet as ever. He turned the lights on to reveal and practically empty living room. All there was was y/n’s throw blanket, a sign that she tried to stay up for him.

Shit

“She could still be awake right?” he thought. “She never really falls asleep til like one. Maybe she is just laying down in bed!” he tried to stay optimistic here.

“Jagi!” he called out again. “I brought food!”

Still he got nothing.

He walked over to the kitchen and turned on the lights. He pulled the fancy plates out of the cabinets and laid the sad, barely warm burgers and fries on them.

“How mad is she that she isn’t responding? Does she hate me? Is she asleep? Does she want me to go look for her?” these thousands of questions wouldn’t stop coming to his head.

He threw the greasy paper bags away and stared at the “dinner” before him. It looked as sad and disappointing as he felt. But it was better than nothing right?

The apartment was still so silent. It was beginning to feel scary and uncomfortable.

“Jagi?” he called out as he walk down the unlit hallway.

He stood in front of the bedroom door, hand on door knob. He was too nervous to open it. There was no guarantee of what was going to be in the other side. Y/n could be sleeping, crying silently, or waiting for him in a rage.

“Please don’t be too mad” he thought as he opened the door

The room was dark, but there was just enough light seeping in from the kitchen to shine on the bed… an empty bed.

His heart raced. His hand slapped the light switch and he had a better view of their bed. It had been made with military like precision, but only with his pillows on his side

“Y/n?!?” he shouted in a panic.

His eyes scanned the room. Her small desk lamp was gone, her jewelry box gone. Her charger, purse, papers, laptop, lotions, books, pictures, they were all gone and she was nowhere to be seen.

In complete denial and desperation, he pathetically looked under the bed. She wasn’t there. He looked in the closet. She wasn’t there either. The only things in there were his clothes. He looked in the bathroom but she wasn’t hiding away in there. On top of it all, only his tooth brush sat all by itself on the counter. Her makeup, skins care, shampoo, and towels were gone.

He pulled out his phone, trying to give her a call while he ran through the rest of the apartment in search of her. “Please be here! Be here! Pick up! Answer!” he begged.

It was no use. Her phone was still off and now she was gone.

Back in the living room, chest aching, arms and legs like bricks, his crying eyes spotted a small, random piece of paper concealed within the folds her throw blanket. It was a note that read. “Hoseok, Now you can have all the space you want. -Y/n.”

-Admin Boat

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sugdenlovesdingle · 6 years

Text

I saw this ask/prompt smittenwithsugden got and I started thinking.

Robert would NEVER say Aaron is not Seb’s real parent... but a teenage Seb full of angst in the heat of the moment during a fight with his parents? He might.

“You’re not even my real dad! I don’t have to listen to you!” Seb yelled at Aaron who was too stunned to say anything.

“Go to your room and think about what you just said! NOW!” Robert yelled and the teenager glared at him and stomped up the stairs, the sound of a door slamming and a radio being turned on at full volume quickly following.

“So that’s what he thinks of me...” Aaron sat down on the sofa, looking dejected. Robert sat down next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

“You know he didn’t mean it. He loves you. You’re his dad.”

“Not according to him I’m not.”

“He’s just angry. He’s 15. Don’t you remember what you were like at that age? Full of teen angst and feelings you don’t know what to do with...”

“He doesn’t think I’m his real dad, Rob, that hurts.”

“I know that. And so does he. That’s why he said it.”

“Like father like son eh?”

“Come on, he’s your son as much as mine. He loves you. And we’ll talk to him as soon as he calms down.”

“Maybe you should talk to him. You’re his real dad after all. I’m just the bloke that’s shacking up with his dad.” Aaron said and got up from the sofa and grabbed his jacket. “I’m going for a walk. Need to clear my head.”

“Aaron please don’t go. Let’s talk about this as a family.” Robert pleaded.

“Not now.” Aaron said and left. He heard Robert shout Seb’s name up the stairs before he closed the door.

He walked aimlessly through the village, debating going to the pub but deciding against it, knowing his mum would make it her personal mission to find out why he was in such a bad mood and he didn’t feel like explaining.

Eventually he ended up at the old scrapyard. Even though Holey Scrap was no more and he co-owned the garage these days, he still liked to come up here every now and then.

His phone beeped and he fully expected it to be a message from Robert telling him to come home, but instead it was a picture from their daughter Ava. A selfie of her and her three best friends, standing in front of the Eiffel tower. He smiled and typed a quick reply to her.

Enjoy Paris princess, don’t forget to bring us back some presents! X.

He was glad she was enjoying herself on her school trip instead of getting stuck in the latest war between her parents and her big brother.

“Oi! This is private property you know, clear off!”

Aaron looked up and saw Belle walking towards him, her two Irish Wolfhounds happily following her.

“It’s ok, I know the owner.” Aaron joked.

“What are you doing here? Longing for the good old days of ripping cars apart instead of fixing them?”

Aaron chuckled and greeted Belle’s dogs.

“Nah, I just had to get out of the house for a bit. World war three kicked off again.”

Belle nodded.

“What about?”

“Seb wants to go on holiday with his mates this summer. We said no so now we’re the worst parents ever.” Aaron sighed. “He’s 15 and he thinks he can take on the world but he’s still a kid.”

“Didn’t we all when we were that age?”

Aaron gave her a small smile.

“Yeah I suppose so. But he’s go a mouth on him. Like me I suppose. And he knows how to hit you where it hurts the most. Like Robert.”

“Yeah?”

Aaron nodded and took a deep breath.

“He said I’m not his real dad.”

“Ouch.” Belle said and sat down on the bonnet of the old car Aaron was leaning on. “But you know he doesn’t mean that. People say a lot of things they don’t mean in the heat of the moment.”

“I know, I know. But it still hurt. We told him about Rebecca and her family a few weeks ago. I mean... more than he already knew. Some of the trouble we had with them and that it took a while for us to become the family we are now. We thought he was ready... but I guess he wasn’t.”

“Well... it’s a lot to take in. I sometimes still have trouble believing everything that’s happened and I was there.” Belle said, bumping her shoulder against Aaron’s.

“Yeah I suppose so. It just hurt. I mean he wasn’t conceived under the best circumstances and the whole thing was a mess... but I never blamed him for that and he’s still my son.” Aaron said. “Ever since the first time I held him. And then when he got ill... we spent his first birthday in hospital just sitting by his bed. Both of us were worried sick. He was still so little.”

“I remember. Everyone was so relieved when you could take him home again.”

“Yeah... And now... I know he doesn’t really mean it... but it still hurts to hear him say it.”

Aaron’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he reluctantly answered it when he saw Robert’s name.

“I’m at the yard Rob, don’t worry. I’ll be home in a bit.”

“Dad? It’s me...”

“Seb? Why are you using your dad’s phone?”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d answer if you saw it was me.” Seb said quietly and Aaron’s heart ached.

“Of course I’d answer.”

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier... when are you coming home?”

“I’m on my way. Tell your dad to get started on tea.” Aaron sighed and waved goodbye to Belle who’d walked on with her dogs.

Ten minutes later he walked into the Mill and saw Robert and Seb sitting at the kitchen table. Robert got up and kissed him hello.

“Alright?” He asked softly.

“Yeah, will be.”

“Seb has something to tell you.” Robert said, turning to their son who was nervously watching his parents.

“I’m sorry... for saying you’re not my real dad. I... was angry and I shouldn’t have said that. I’m really sorry.” Seb said, looking at a spot somewhere above Aaron’s head.

“I know mate.” Aaron said, sitting down at the table with him. “But you have to understand words can really hurt people. You really hurt me.”

Seb nodded.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. You are my dad. You both are. And I love you both, I swear.”

“I know. We know.” Aaron said and pulled Seb into a hug. “We told you about your mum and her family because we thought you should know more about them. Know where you came from. Hear it from us instead of the gossip in the village.” Robert told Seb as he wrapped his arms around his son and his husband. “Like from your aunty Nicola.”

“Definitely don’t listen to your aunty Nicola.” Aaron agreed and the three of them laughed.

“Does this mean we’re alright now?” Seb asked his parents.

Robert looked at Aaron who nodded. “But you’re still grounded.”

“Oh yeah. ‘Till you’re 30. At least.”

#robron #Aaron Dingle #Robert Sugden #Seb Sugden #teenage seb #this got out of hand #big tme #robron fic #my writing

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mirroring-mirrors · 7 years

Text

Heathers (1989) Sentence Starters!

Dear Diary...

Real life sucks losers dry.

If you want to fuck with the eagles, you have to learn to fly.

You're beautiful!

What is your damage?

Do they even have Thanksgiving in Africa?

This wouldn't be that bizarro thing you were babbling about over the phone last night, would it?

Hey, I'm really sorry I couldn't make it to your birthday party last month.

Think I'd probably miss my own birthday for a date.

I was looking around the other day and I dug up.. these old photographs.

I was talking to somebody.

Check this out. You win five million dollars from the Publisher's Sweepstakes, and the same day that what’s-his-face gives you the check, aliens land on the earth and say they're going to blow up the world in two days. What do you do?

Why can't we talk to different kinds of people?

Fuck me gently with a chainsaw.

Do I look like Mother Theresa?

Does it not bother you that everybody in this school thinks that you're a piranha?

What are you gonna do with the money?

I'd pay Madonna a million bucks to sit on my face and have her ride like the Kentucky derby..

That's gotta be the most spooky-assed question I ever heard.

You wanted to be a member of the most powerful clique in school. If I wasn't already the head of it, I'd want the same thing.

You used to have a sense of humour.

You know, maybe you should see a doctor.

God, _____, drool much?

Greetings and salutations.

There are no stupid questions.

That's the stupidest question I've ever heard.

Let's kick his ass!

We're too old for that kinda crap.

You gonna eat this?

What'd you say, dickhead?

Can you bleach out urine stains?

I thought you had given up on high school guys.

Did you have a brain tumour for breakfast?

So, tonight's the night. Are you excited?

You blow it tonight, and it's "keggers with kids" all next year.

So, what was the first week of spring vacation withdrawal like?

Hey kid, isn't the prom coming up?

I gotta motor if I want to be ready for that party tonight.

Are you gonna pull a super-chug with that?

If you're nice, I'll let you buy me a slushie.

I see you know your convenience-speak pretty well.

That thing you pulled in the caf today was pretty severe.

Yeah well, the extreme always seems to make an impression.

Did you say a cherry or coke slushie?

Is your life perfect?

I don't really like my friends.

Maybe it's time to take a vacation.

I want to kill, and you have to believe it's for more than just selfish reasons

So, when you go to college, what subjects do you think you'll study?

How's my little cheerleader, huh?

Come on, now look, I don't feel so good, okay?

Hey, let's do it on the coats, it'll be excellent, huh?

You know, I have a little prepared speech for my suitor when he wants more than I'm prepared to give him.

Save the speeches for Malcolm X.

You don't deserve my fucking speech.

I sound like a fucking psycho!

You stupid fuck!

You goddamn bitch!

You were nothing before you met me.

Lick it up, baby. Lick.. it.. up..!

Monday morning, you're history.

I'll tell everyone about tonight.

Dreadful etiquette, I apologise.

I saw the croquet set-up in the back. You up for a match?

Thank you, that was my first game of strip croquet.

I use my grand IQ to decide what colour gloss to wear, and how to hit three keggers before curfew.

I say we just grow up, be adults and die.

I'm a no-rust-build-up man, myself.

Don't be a dick.

I think last night we both said a lot of stuff we didn't mean.

How the hell didcha get in here?

What did you do, put a phlegm globber in it or something?

I'm not gonna drink that piss.

Grow up!

You think I'll drink it just because you call me chicken?

Just give me the cup, jerk.

I just killed my best friend.

What're we gonna tell the cops?

I can't believe this is my life.

I'm gonna have to send my SAT scores to San Quentin instead of Stanford.

At least you got whatcha wanted, y'know?

It is one thing to want somebody out of your life, it is another thing to serve them a wake-up cup full of liquid drainer.

We did a murder, and that's a crime

You might think what I've done is shocking -

People think that just because you're beautiful and popular, life is easy and fun.

I die knowing no-one knew the real me.

Have you done this before?

Keep things business as usual.

We must revel in this revealing moment.

You call me when the shuttle lands.

Where's your urge to purge?

Sorry to hear about your friend.

Let's talk emotions.

Are we going to be tested on this?

How many networks did you run to?

What're you talking about? You hated her, she hated you.

Gosh, pop, I almost forgot to introduce my girlfriend.

Goddamn will somebody tell me why I smoke these damn things?

I gotta motor if I want to be ready for that funeral.

Jesus, God in Heaven, why didcha kill such hot snatch?

Jeez, people are so serious.

Hi, I'm sorry.

I just want my high school to be a nice place.

Did that sound bitchy?

So, we on tonight, man, or what?

That pudwacker just stepped on my foot.

When I get that feeling, I need sexual healing.

Sorry, I'm feeling a little superior tonight.

Seven schools in seven states, and the only thing different is my locker combination.

Our love is God.

Let's go get a slushie.

The funeral yesterday must really have been rough, eh?

It's more tasteful than it sounds.

I left them drunk and flailing in cow shit.

No, don't shut up, I'd like to know exactly what I did.

Yeah, I didn't expect to be calling either, I just guess my emotions took over...

I was wondering if you wanted all those things you've been saying to really happen?

It's always been a fantasy of mine to have two guys at once.

Listen, my Bonnie and Clyde days are over.

Do you take German?

Tell me the similarity is not incredible.

The joy we shared in each others arms was greater than any touch down, yet we were forced to live the lives of sexist, beer guzzling jock assholes.

I mean, if you don't have a brewski in your hand you might as well be wearing a dress.

So, should I just whip it out, or...?

I was kind of hoping you could rip my clothes off me, sport?

Did you miss him completely?

Hey, I heard something out there, I'm checking it out.

Does this answer your question?

You believed it, because you wanted to believe it.

Your true feelings were to gross and icky for you to face.

I did not want them dead!

My teen angst bullshit has a body count.

Are we going to prom or to hell?

I've seen a lot of bullshit.

Is this as good for you as it is for me?

I need a copy of all this by Monday for my Princeton application.

It was chaos, fucking chaos.

Chaos is great!

Chaos is what killed the dinosaurs, darling.

We scare people into not being assholes!

God, you can be so immature!

Hey, they're playing our song!

That's it! We're breaking up!

You can't bring them back, you must know that.

I am not trying to bring anybody back, except maybe myself.

And to think there was a time when I actually thought you were cool!

Blow up a couple of toasters or something.

Kind of scary though that everybody has got a little story to tell.

What is this? Blackmail?

I'll ask you to do me a favour, it'll be one you'll enjoy.

Don't you start getting cocky on me now.

Do you know I'm still a virgin?

Nice guys finish last. I should know.

Are you telling me this is not a time for troubled youth?

I don't patronise bunny rabbits!

I guess I picked the wrong time to be a human being.

You were out of control!

Hey babe, I need a name.

God has cursed me, I think.

What are you trying to do? Kill me?

That's about the least private thing I can think of.

If everyone jumped off a bridge, would you?

If you're happy every day of your life, you wouldn't be a human being, you'd be a game show host.

What do you say we knock off early and buy some shoes or something lame like that?

People love me!

People love you, but I know you.

Some people need different kinds of convincing than others.

Don't talk to me like that, OK?

Jealous much?

Why are you such a mega bitch?

Want to go out tonight? Catch a movie, you know, some miniature golf?

I knew you'd be back... I knew it.

You were wrong, and I was right!

You've been depressed lately.

Get off of my bed, you fucking psycho!

Do you think you're a rebel? Do you actually think you're a rebel?

You're not a rebel, you're a fucking psychotic!

What do you think I'm gonna do with it? Take out their tonsils?

I've got a meaningful marked-up Moby Dick, what else does a suicide need?

Is this turning out weak, or what?

My afterlife is so boring.

If I have to sing Kumbaya one more time...

I loved you! Sure, I was coming up here to kill you...

Our burning bodies will be the ultimate protest to a society that degrades us.

Talk about your suicide pacts, eh?

What do they want, a written invitation?

Whether to kill yourself or not is the most important decisions a teenager can make.

Put your hands on your head.

Do you think that just because you started this thing you can end it?

I'll kill you, I'll fucking kill you, I swear to God!

How do I turn off the goddamn bomb, asshole?

You want a clean slate as much as I do.

The only place where different social types genuinely can get along with each other is in heaven.

Do you know what I'd love, babe? Cool guys like you out of my life.

You've got power... Power I didn't think you had.

Now that you're dead, what are you gonna do with your life?

You look like hell!

My date for the prom kind of flaked out on me...

I was wondering, if you aren't doing anything, maybe we could rent some new releases? Pop some popcorn?

#heathers #heathers 1989 #rp meme #sentence starters #ooc #long post #i tried to narrow it down but look #100 follower celebration

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shiroe-is-my-baby · 7 years

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You Have The Nerve? - Ch 3

Summary: Based off of the movie Nerve, an AU/crossover fic that doesn’t exactly follow the storyline but does have a similar plot and a few scenes from it. A hard breakup throws Ashley into an emotional wreck, acting out in ways that she never knew possible. When the opportunity to play a game of dares for money, she can’t help but play along. Throwing her into a spiral of dangerous games, along with meeting a few new faces and possibly falling in love yet again.

W: self-insert, romance, angst, strong language, crossover, au

Part One | Part Two | Part Three |

The music over the stereo lightly played, fading into the background like white noise. I chewed on my bottom lip, leaning back in the seat after I had finished my food. A piece of hair twirled between my fingertips, eyes lingering on my phone that sat on the table. I could lie and say that I wasn’t slightly curious of this strange game. Mainly because it sounded like a nice distraction. The stuff I was hearing about from Sae did bother me a bit. The last thing I wanted was to get involved with anything dangerous.

I heard the smacking of the man beside me, rolling my eyes as I dropped my hair onto my shoulders. “It’s all ridiculous when you think about it. The fact that it sounds like a game for stupid teenagers,” He said, giving us the curtesy of covering his mouth while he spoke.

“You say it like you weren’t just playing a game of truth or dare with your friends two days ago.”

“That was different. I’m pretty sure I was drunk then.”

“Pretty sure?” Marielle asked, laughing softly.

He nodded, although he forgot about the conversation really quick when the waitress flew past with yet another refill.

Marielle and I made eye contact for a moment, mocking the man while he scarfed down the rests of his food. It was strange that I finished before he did, given that he was eating like a vacuum at this moment. No doubt starving from the hours he spent without eating. But I wasn’t really in the mood to eat very much. Which makes sense, considering I don’t usually eat a lot when I’m stressed.

Glancing out the window beside us, I noticed a flash from the corner of my eye. My eyebrows lifted curiously, following the group that walked down the street. There was a water fountain near the center of a nearby park, and it looked like that was their destination. “Hey,” I said, swatted at Saeyoung’s arm, then his chest.

“Ouch, what? I was eating!”

“Look, check this out.”

I pointed out the window towards the kid who had to be at least eighteen. His friend handed him a skateboard, and he placed it onto the ground. It seemed pretty harmless until the kid started doing tricks and grinding on the rails of the water fountain. It’s not unusual for someone to do something like this, but the way that he had so many people following him around was strange. Not to mention that it was like he was putting on some kind of show.

“He’s gotta be some guy that does skating tricks on the internet. That’s nothing unusual,” Sae said.

“Yeah, but it’s it a little coincidental?”

“Eh, maybe.”

“Or you’re just reading into it too much,” Marielle chimed in, placing her chin on her heads.

Shrugging my shoulders, I sat back in my seat and watched the group of kids jog off towards the bus stop. It was all so weird. Maybe I was being paranoid. Wanting to see things that may or may not be there. But now that I was paying attention, there were more people on the streets on their phones, doing strange things in front of a camera. It may be a normal thing in the city, but there was a lot of people doing it. This couldn’t be some coincidence. This whole game thing had to be real.

The three of us finished our meal, leaving a tip for the waitress and walking out into the cold late afternoon air. I hadn’t realized how late it had gotten until we stepped outside. It wasn’t dark yet, but I was sure it would be fairly soon. “Thank you guys for eating with me. It was just what I needed,” I said with a sigh. Marielle smiled, squeezing my shoulder affectionately.

“It’s no problem, hon. Do you want me to walk you home?”

“Nah, I’m good. You two be safe. I’ll… see you later.”

“Don’t go doing any crazy dares without me,” Sae announced, walking backward as he gave me a quick salute.

I rolled my eyes, nodding and turning around the opposite direction.

What a couple of weird but great friends that I had.

I can always count on them to cheer me up. All day I barely even thought about the asshole. Right now, I could barely even give a damn. Something else was bothering me, though. Why couldn’t I stop thinking about his stupid game? It wasn’t like I would actually have the courage to do crazy dares. Even though I have toughened up and grew a thicker skin over the past few years, there was no way that I would do it. The money did sound good, though. I would need it now that I had an apartment to pay for by myself.

Sighing deeply, I decided to forget about it for now. I had things to do. The apartment was a mess, and I had to get his shit sorted out. That was my plan for the rest of the night. Maybe relax on the cough with a bottle of wine and binge on some weird TLC shows. That sounded like my kind of fun.

An hour had passed since I’ve been home, and I still couldn’t seem to sit still. The message kept popping up on my computer screen, taunting me yet again. To make matters worse, I was strongly considering the challenge. I was bored and thirsting for something to help me feel liberated. Most women go out and find someone to have rebound sex with, and I was not up for that. It was too much baggage to deal with at the moment, and I wasn’t the one night stand kind of person. Not that I judged anyone who was. It just wasn’t for me.

My liberation was something better than that. Something that I can remember for years and earn some cash from it. The idea seemed harmless enough, but I wasn’t about to make this decision on one emotion. Right?

I breathed a heavy sigh, tapping my foot nervously as I stared at the bright computer screen. It didn’t specify that one had to finish the game to win the cash. Each dare would have a cash prize, and only the ones who make it to the top two compete for a winner. But there was nothing about having to complete anything. As long as the dare is finished the person wins the cash. I can play up until I have a substantial amount of money and stop. No more dares after that.

The plan seemed simple enough.

As I was mewling it over, I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket. I picked it up once again, not even bothering to look at the caller I.D. “What do you want, Sae?” I asked, in the most monotone voice I could muster. I didn’t even bother asking if he could see me. I knew that he could. We already established this earlier.

“You’re not really considering this… are you?” He asked, in a serious tone.

Serious Saeyoung only comes out every once in a while. Sometimes I forget that he is mostly serious, and only uses his humor as a front. Only I really know this fact, given that we’d been friends for so long. It’s hard to forget the night that he practically lost it on me, trying to get me to leave. Even though I wouldn’t. Maybe that’s why he and I never really made it past the friend zone. He’d never allow it. He’s fine with being friends as long as I stay my distance and never get close enough to his heart.

My eyes lingered on the two options, the player button a deep purple. It felt ominous almost. I pursed my lips and sighed, giving a small nod.

“I am…”

“Look, I joked a lot about this with Marielle, but I’m serious now. It’s not something to play. I looked a bit into it when I got home. There are lots of people saying that it’s dangerous.”

“It can’t be that dangerous. Besides, I’m just going to play a few to win some extra cash.”

“Even that can spiral out of control. Ashley, I’m telling you seriously, okay?”

I breathed a sigh, my hand balling into a fist at my side.

I heard his pleas, but they seemed obsolete now. I’ve made up my mind. There was no amount of convincing that could change my mind.

I wasn’t sure what I was trying to prove. Who I was trying to lash out against. None of this seemed to make sense rationally. My head was already spinning, and I felt as if I almost blacked out for a second. This wasn’t just for me to make some point. It wasn’t just about the cash. It was about finally breaking from my pattern and having some god damn fun.

“I’m sorry, Sae.”

I hovered my mouse over the player option, clicking it right as Saeyoung was telling me to stop.

My phone vibrated against my face, and I quickly brought it down to see that an app was downloaded onto my phone. Raising an eyebrow, I opened it up to reveal the screen where I was to enter all of my information. Saeyoung sighed heavily on the other line, the sound of keys tapping on his computer. He was no doubt looking into my information, making sure that nothing was harmed. This was a moment that I kind of thanked him for having the security system set up.

“The game is tailored to all of your information. They hack into your bank account to wire your money, and they also look up all of your profiles. The dares are created because of the things that you like, dislike, your fears. Everything. I tried to warn you, but now we’re in this until you decide that you’re done,” He mumbled.

“Like I said. It’s only to make some extra cash.”

“I’m sure that it is. Look, just let me come pick you up. At least let me tag along and make sure nothing goes wrong. We can take my car.”

“Okay, okay. Sure,” I said, typing away on my phone as I entered my username.

I was a tad bit anxious to get this whole thing started. I wondered just what would happen. This wasn’t something that I normally did. Usually, when Sae tells me not to do something I’ll listen. Why was I struggling to act out? Was it the break-up or was this bound to happen? It all seemed out of character for me. This could be the night that I make some stupid decisions. Granted, I probably just made one small one already.

But I couldn’t worry about that right now.

I had a game to play.

#self insert #self ship #self insert writing #my writing #otp: shirey #fic #fanfic #fanficiton #au #nerve au #romance #angst #crossover

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