#//His mama pushed him away more often than not as a kid; then later most of their interactions were either super good or outright arguments | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

juletheghoul · 3 years

Text

Solis

This one is close to my heart - took me a long time to figure out how I wanted to write about Oberyn, this is an au, we are not in Westeros because I wouldn't even know how the hell to jump into that world but I hope you like it.

Oberyn Martell x F!Reader (GOT's AU)

Pairing: Oberyn x F!Reader

Word Count: 10K (sorry bout it)

Warnings: **TRIGGER WARNING** Deals with grief (readers husband / Elia's death) Reader is a widow, deals with loss and depression / fluffy parent stuff, yearning, language, Smut 18+, PIV sex (wrap it up), dirty talk **pregnancy**

Masterlist

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You could almost feel his arms around you, could almost feel his voice in your ear telling you he loved you. It always made waking up so hard.

Your son was up though and that meant the end of your time with him. It felt like it had been forever since he passed away, and it also felt like it had happened yesterday. Especially on the days when you dreamt about him.

You missed him fiercely. You felt his loss so strongly, it was like an ache that nothing could relieve. Everything in you wanted to lay in bed and conjure up happy memories but your son needed you.

Lately it seemed like he was the only thing keeping you out of bed.

“Good morning little love.” Your smile for him was genuine. You couldn’t help it when he gave you those little grabby hands.

Your son looked like you, everyone said so. Spitting image absolutely - but every so often you would look at him and see your husband staring back at you and that hurt so much more than you wanted to admit.

You tried to focus on your son, he was babbling happily as you got him ready for his first day at daycare. You had been praying fiercely that he would get a spot before your maternity leave was up. You couldn’t afford to stay home longer than was necessary and in order to be able to afford the spot you were praying for you needed to go back to work. It was a vicious cycle.

You had applied to a few in your area and until last week it had been a steady stream of -unfortunately we have no space at this time- until you found Elias. It was a smaller, more “hands on” daycare but it’s the only option you had within budget.

You would have preferred to send your son to Casterly Rock Child Care but not only could you not afford it, there were never any spots. It was like trying to get your son into private school. Once you were back at work and making your regular salary you could make it work. If he ever got in that is, for now however - it would have to be Elias.

You wanted to get him used to daycare before you went back to work, the thought of leaving him there bawling for you would have meant a horrific first day back. Better to get him accustomed, the lady you had spoken to said that you could start him as early as this week, and you agreed.

“Come on little man, are you ready? You’re going to meet so many other kids! Isn’t that exciting?” He giggled at your happy tone and the sound was always like a balm, his happiness was your happiness. You got his diaper bag ready with everything he’d need and set off.

————

The walk to the daycare had been nice, the fact that it was so close was a big bonus. The daycare seemed to be a big home, the lower level of which had been converted in order to separate the living quarters upstairs. You walked into the foyer and immediately saw a huge portrait of a beautiful young woman.

In loving memory of Elia Martell, this Daycare was opened in her honour

She must have died young, you knew that pain. Your heart went out to her family.

You surveyed the space, it looked intensely homey, there was a big unit packed with kids shoes and bags, big cubbies with names written on them. A big community notice board filled with flyers and local news.

There were sunflowers everywhere, the whole space was bathed in a yellow glow that made it look like part of the sun was stashed away. The brightness of it was lovely, and it shooed away the fear you had at being separated from your son slightly. You had a good feeling about this place.

A woman came at the sound of the door with a big smile on her face. Her gauzy dress floating behind her as she walked over to you excitedly as you got your son out of his stroller. You couldn’t help but smile back at her - she seemed so friendly.

“Good morning! I’m Ellaria, I believe we spoke over the phone.” She hugged you tightly and her openness shocked you, but you quickly recovered and smiled back at her, introducing yourself formally. She looked down at your son and waved at him.

“It’s nice to meet you Ellaria, this is Mylo.” You turned Mylo to face her and she cooed happily at him. He seemed taken with her and you definitely could not blame him. She exuded a calming maternal energy, and she looked like a goddess.

“Hello Mylo, aren’t you just the most handsome little man, may I?” She looked to you for permission before reaching for him. You hesitated slightly but relented. It was better to know now how much crying you’d have to deal with. She took him with grace and bounced him as she held him tight to chest.

“Yes you are such a handsome boy, my girls are going to love you.” She spoke into his hair and it made you happy to see her be so tender with him. You felt better about this place by the second.

“Please be welcome, I’ll give you a tour so you can feel better about leaving him here.” She spoke over her shoulder, urging you to follow. So far no crying - this is good.

You walked through to the back of the house to find a big open room, a mountain of toys stacked neatly in one corner. The main play area was closed off with a wooden gate to keep the little ones from roaming out of sight. There was a row of little cots in another corner for nap time, as well as a long table filled with high chairs and a bench for the bigger kids. You could tell kids liked it here. It was still early enough that only a few children were there by now and by the look of them they were Ellaria’s own, they looked just like her.

“We let the children enjoy their time however they choose, we let them colour or play - they can paint or do puzzles. The only thing we don’t let them do is watch tv. They socialize better without sitting in front of a screen. We don’t separate them by age and encourage them to play or learn together. Elia, watch your sisters while I finish the tour.”

She spoke to a girl that seemed to be in her teens before guiding you outside.

“On nice sunny days we bring the children outside, to play in the water gardens, or in the sand. I forgot to mention it over the phone. If you’re not comfortable with Mylo playing in the water he can be kept in the shade.” She smiled, the yard was huge and for a kid it would be paradise. It was essentially a massive in ground kiddie pool with fountains, you could already see Mylo sitting in the water and splashing around excitedly.

“No it’s okay, I can pack him some beach diapers, he’s like a fish this one so he’ll love it here. I’ll get him some sunscreen too and a hat or something so he can be outside.” You smiled imagining his chubby little legs in the water.

“Perfect, that would be lovely I’m sure he’ll be very happy here, won’t you Mylo.” She bounced him a little and he giggled. It was both a relief and an annoyance that he took to this woman so quickly. You pushed that thought away, this is a blessing and you’re projecting your insecurities.

“I’m really glad you gave me the tour Ellaria thank you. I feel much better about leaving him now.” You were sincere, you knew in your heart this woman would care for your child just as well as you would.

“Oh yes he’ll be happy here, my girls will fight over him I can see it now - and I just know Oberyn will love him.” She had a tiny bit of an accent and her voice was lovely, you could listen to her talk all day. “Okay little one let’s get you inside and settled so mama can go about her day hm?” She led you back inside and placed Mylo into the enclosure with a bunch of colourful blocks to distract him. Just like she had predicted - her girls came over instantly to fawn over him and he loved the attention.

“Thanks so much- I’ll be back at around 5:30 to pick him up. I packed him some extra clothes, his pacifier, diapers, rash cream just in case. Everything I thought he’d need- nap time for him is usually around eleven and if he gets fussy he has his blanket in here.” You showed her and she nodded, taking his bag from you.

“No problem, have a great day, we’ll see you later.” You felt good about leaving him there - seeing him happy and distracted with Ellaria’s girls. You managed to make it all the way home before the tears came.

—-

You took the time away from Mylo to be in bed. You’d wanted to lay and do nothing for so long, imagining it would feel better than it did. It never did.

It was silent in your house which was new, no tv, no baby noises, no crying. Just you and the ghost of your husband. An empty bed reminding you of his absence. You laid there in the quiet, aside from the sounds of cars outside your window, seeing your gauzy curtains fluttering in the slight breeze. Dustmotes dancing on the little light you allowed in.

You were glad then that Mylo wasn’t around, that he has a happy place with other children, just the thought of him splashing around in the water and being around Ellaria’s energy made you feel a little better. You had to try harder.

You couldn’t let your grief overwhelm you, you couldn’t let it get in the way of being a good mom. You had to be better for Mylo. For yourself, but it was hard, it was hard to celebrate Mylos firsts without him. When Mylo crawled for the first time you were a wreck for days. When he first laughed, you cried. All of his firsts were daggers to your heart and it wasn’t fair to him.

These milestones which should have been met with joy and excitement, were often met with misery and tears and that had to stop. You vowed that it would, but not today.

Today was for laying in bed in silence.

——-

You ended up getting there a little earlier than you thought to pick up Mylo and you half expected chaos but the children were well behaved. They were playing happily in little groups of twos and threes. Blocks and puzzles, barbies and dolls. So many activities going on at once. Mylo was sitting in a high chair with his back facing you, someone was feeding him something but you couldn’t see them from where you were.

“You’re early! Look Mylo- mamas here!” Ellaria had more energy than you’d seen in women half her age. It was inspiring, truly.

“Your son is a delight. He’s a lovely boy and very well behaved.” You saw his face poke out from behind the high chair then, a handsome man who looked to be in his late 30’s or early 40’s. His smile was infectious.

“I’m so glad to hear he was well behaved.” You spoke truthfully, you were a little worried he’d be fussy all day.

“A perfect little gentleman weren’t you Mylo?” He spoke with such affection, these people were truly suited for this work.

“Hey little man, what are you eating?” You came around to see him and he perked up to hear your voice, his little hands making the grabby signal you loved so much.

“My sincerest apologies if I’m spoiling his dinner, he saw me eating berries and he practically took them out of my hands.” He smiled warmly down at the baby, he was eating the berries happily, juice and seeds smeared all over his face.

“That’s okay, I’m here early anyway, dinner won’t be for a little while and he loves berries. Don’t you little man?” He made the grabby hands again and ignored the mush.

“Okay little one let’s get you cleaned up so you can go home.” Oberyn grabbed some wipes and began carefully getting him somewhat clean. You couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was, his greying hair did nothing to take away from his allure. If anything it made him look distinguished. He got Mylo decently clean, anything he missed would be taken care of at bath time. He barely finished because Mylo got impatient and cried out for you.

“It’s okay I’m here, let’s get you ready.” You thanked him - he had beautiful brown eyes.

It shocked you that you even thought about how attractive Oberyn was. You hadn’t even thought about another man since you got married, and even less so after your husband died. It was a little distressing but you imagined that it was bound to happen eventually. Another first.

You heard a little girl then, no older than six or seven run up to him and call him dad, she looked just like Ellaria and then it clicked. Of course they would be together. That should have been obvious. They had the same slight lilt in their speech- obviously they had come from the same place. You felt a little foolish then, not knowing exactly why.

“See you tomorrow Mylo.” He called out to him, turning to you after to offer you his hand. “It was lovely to meet you, see you tomorrow.” He shook your hand in his big warm ones.

---

“Good morning! Hi Mylo, are you ready to get bombarded by my daughters today?” Oberyn greeted you at the entrance the next day. He stood in a mustard yellow shirt and linen trousers, he looked like the human version of a sun-god and you had to remember to reign in your thoughts; It was very difficult when he smiled at the both of you. Ellaria came at the sound and you felt chastened somehow.

“Good morning! It’s lovely to see you both.” She smiled and Mylo giggled at her. She took him without hesitation from his stroller and it surprised you how comfortable you were with it. He definitely liked her which was a bonus, she held him tightly and he grabbed playfully at her long curls.

Oberyn stood beside the big portrait of the woman you learned was Elia, you saw the resemblance between them then and your heart wilted slightly. He noticed and looked where your gaze was focused. The smile changed, from an open friendliness, to a sad fondness.

“My sister.” he said softly, the pain was evident.

“I’m so sorry, the grief must be immense.” you meant every word, you knew it to be true.

“It is, but it makes me happy to have this place in her honour. I miss her very much.” He spoke with a fondness that wrapped itself around your heart. You still couldn’t talk about your husband and it had been over a year.

“She is with us in spirit my love.” Ellaria put her head on his shoulder and he hugged her warmly. It felt like you were intruding on a beautiful private family moment, even your son looked like he belonged with them. He made the grabby hands at Oberyn - that hurt more than you could have thought. Another first.

“Yes, you and I are going to have fun in the sand today right?” Mylo giggled at the excited faces Oberyn made and it all seemed so natural, so practised - you had to leave. You were suffocating and the tears were coming fast and heavy. You hurriedly kissed Mylos head as they fell and practically ran out the door. This was looking like another day in bed.

You hadn’t made it home before your cell phone was ringing - the name of the daycare centre lit up on the caller id. You took a couple of deep breaths to settle yourself before answering, you were so embarrassed.

“Hello?” You managed to hold back the sniffle.

“Hello dove, I wanted to make sure you’re okay - please let me know if we did anything to make you uncomfortable.” It was Ellaria and her voice sounded so sincere and worried that it compounded the embarrassment. You felt your face grow hot at what they must think of you.

“Hi - yes, I’m sorry about that. I’m so ashamed no no please it was nothing to do with you guys. I’m happy Mylo is with you. He seemed so happy.” You tried to keep your voice neutral but a crack managed to sneak through while the tears fell. You knew she heard you then. She was quiet for a moment.

“Are you sure?” She prodded gently, you took in her meaning. She was asking far more than she was saying with words.

“Yes - thank you Ellaria - I’ll see you at 5:30pm - have a great day.” You hung up before she could hear you falling apart.

When you got home you felt hopeless. Would this ever get better? You were so exhausted - it always felt like if you just got a full day of sleep it would clear. The cotton in your brain would finally disappear. It never did, but it didn’t stop you from trying.

You could smell him then, feel his arms around you and it did more to calm you than all the sleep in the world. In the back of your mind you knew this was a dream, but he was here and that’s all that mattered.

You can’t keep doing this to yourself.

He spoke into your hair and you could feel it, you felt the air leave his lungs, he felt sturdy wrapped around you in the nameless place you could only ever find in dreams.

Don’t leave me again - please I can’t do this without you. You knew this couldn’t last and you already dreaded waking up.

I’m already gone. He was slipping away.

How could a dream be so incredibly cruel?

---

The weeks leading up to your return to work went by in a blur, you had too much free time and you seemed to spend every single second of it in bed. Constantly chasing the dreams with him.

When Mylo was home it was easier to focus on him and push your grief away, if only for a little while. He was doing well at the daycare, he was happy to see everyone every morning and it made you ashamed to think that they were better suited to care for him than you were.

You were a dark cloud in this happy baby’s life. You had to get better.

---

The first week back at work was difficult to say the least. The first few days especially.

It was hard to concentrate, you were fatigued and your heart was absolutely not in it. You pushed through though, using Mylo to get you through it. You thought about how happy he was to see you whenever you got to the daycare; Ellaria had told you he was thriving and she was certain his first steps would be any day now. That was a double edged sword but you focused on the good. You desperately hoped it would happen at home and not at the daycare, even though you knew you could never truly be sure.

She was right - it happened three days later. He was standing holding onto the high chair when he turned to you and took a couple of shaky steps. You squealed happily and ran to get your phone, you wanted to show Ellaria. You managed to get him to walk a few steps on camera and you were just thinking how excited the two of them would be to see it when you realized the usual sadness didn’t creep in right away. You tried to shake it away and focused on the joy of your baby boy stumbling his way into being a toddler.

---

“Oberyn! Come look! I knew it, see I told you I could smell your first steps little one.” She beamed at him as she called Oberyn to come see the video you excitedly showed her.

“My goodness look at him, so confident! He’ll be running circles around us soon.” He watched the video with such pride - you could almost imagine he was getting excited for his own child. It was lovely to see.

“I was so happy I had to get it on video to show you.” You spoke to him with a big smile. You noticed the look Ellaria gave you as you spoke to Oberyn, it was a curious look. She looked at you with what could only be described as tenderness. She grabbed your arm in hers and pulled you over to separate you. You were almost scared that she had gotten the wrong idea and was going to scold you but that was crazy, nothing had happened.

“It is lovely to see you smile Dove, I know there is something going on, a sadness. You don’t have to explain, but if you need anything, anything at all - please don’t hesitate to give me a call. This is my number. I mean it - any time. Even if you just want to come for tea on the weekend. You are both welcome here always.” She held onto your arm reassuringly and you felt the sincerity in her words. No jealousy, no animosity, pure love. You managed to keep your emotions in check when you thanked her, truly thanked her for her kindness.

“Okay little man I’ll see you later, have fun and don’t drive everyone crazy.” You kissed him on the forehead as Oberyn held him and the three of you said your goodbyes.

It was the little things you noticed at first.

You noticed yourself getting up earlier on the weekends, you woke up before Mylo more often than not which was new. You still had a few bad days scattered here and there but the ratio of bad to good had changed drastically. You caught yourself singing as you cooked a few times and that really shocked you.

When your husband was alive you sang all the time - you never thought you were any good and your husband used to tease you but it was just something you did. You hadn’t done it since he died but every once in a while it bubbled up.

You noticed yourself taking a little bit more care with how you dressed, with your hair, your make-up.

When you had first gone back to work you did the bare minimum. Your clothes and hair were clean, that was as much as you could commit to. Over the last couple of months though you found yourself taking a little more time and a little more pride in your appearance. It felt good to see little glimpses of the woman you used to be, peek her head out more and more.

—-

The thought of Mylos biggest first was weighing heavy on your mind, his first birthday. You thought it best to ask Ellaria, you knew she’d be able to help you throw a little something together - Mylo had grown really close to her girls and you wanted them to be included. She reacted just the way you thought she might when you mentioned it to her.

“Oh but you must celebrate it here! We can throw him a little picnic outside!” She was so excited but you didn’t want to impose.

“You don’t have to do that Ellaria it’s okay, I want to include your girls though, Mylo loves them so much.” You didn’t want her to go out of her way, she did so much for you already.

“Oh nonsense, please indulge me - the weathers been so nice the kids can play in the water gardens! Will you say yes?” She was a hell of a charmer, Oberyn lent his voice to hers and you had no choice.

“Oh yes it must be here, the both of you can spend the day with us, you’d love that wouldn’t you little one?” He spoke directly to Mylo who was all smiles.

“Fine, but please - don’t go too crazy. I will bring the cake and the food.” You tried to put your foot down but they were having none of it.

“Dove the only thing the two of you are allowed to walk through these doors with is a cake. Allow me to take care of the rest.” She was imperious and did not take no for an answer- you couldn’t help but agree.

—-

It was lovely to see Mylo in their care.

He was all smiles, he thrived here. You always knew he was happy here but it lifted your heart to see him with them. He chased after the girls on his little legs, he screamed in joy at them when they tickled him.

What really affected you though, was seeing Oberyn with him.

Oberyn treated him like one of his own. He lifted him in the air, he made funny faces at him, he responded to his baby babble as though they were deep in conversation.

Your husband had been so excited to be a father when you decided to start trying, you liked to imagine that he would have done the same. Mylo deserved a father like Oberyn.

“Oberyn loves him, they’re thick as thieves those two.” Ellaria was watching them with you.

“Mylo really likes him.” You wanted to say more but what could you say to her?

My son is obsessed with your husband and I wish I could have him for my own?

Where the hell did that thought come from? You didn’t want Oberyn? Sure you were attracted, and seeing him with your son did something to your heart that you couldn’t quite put your finger on but him and Ellaria were clearly together and happy.

Plus you weren’t ready to move on anyway. Regardless of Oberyn's status. You tried your hardest to push it out of your mind - Ellaria noticed your silent inner turmoil and you hoped she didn’t take it the wrong way.

“Can I ask you a personal question, Dove? Please be honest I don’t want to offend you.” She held onto your arm like always, she was a very affectionate person and it always made you feel comfortable.

“Yes of course, ask me.” You felt like you knew what was coming and you tried to brace yourself.

“What happened to Mylo’s father?” She asked gently and you saw that she half expected you to avoid the question.

“He passed away, a month into my pregnancy with Mylo.” It hurt so much to say, but it was also cathartic. She had such a calming energy it helped stem the flow of emotions.

“Oh Dove I’m so sorry, that must have been very hard.” She rubbed your hand in sympathy.

“It was, it still is but I’m getting better. I’ve come a long way, believe it or not.” You laughed, it was self-depreciating. She didn’t join in.

“Yes you have, when you first brought him to us I could see the sadness in you. It was bigger than you and almost swallowed you whole. Lately I see it getting smaller and smaller, that kind of grief never goes away. You have no idea how happy I am to see you doing better.” The tears were coming but they weren’t from sadness for once. They were for her, for her kindness towards you and your son. You loved her dearly in that moment. “No tears today Dove, we are celebrating life.” She wiped them off your face and you agreed silently.

Mylo was so happy splashing around in the water it was infectious and you wiped your tears away. You had to put them away for him.

“Look at you little man!” You cooed at him excitedly and he splashed. You sat at the edge of water, taking your sandals off to put your feet in. Oberyn was in the water with the children, he had a pair of swim shorts on so he could sit with them. Mylo was in heaven. He would run to Oberyn, kicking water up into his face as he went and then would burst into excited laughter at the mock-stern face on his arrival. It was lovely to see.

“Show mama how you splash little one - big splashes!” He turned Mylo to you and he showed you excitedly. You smiled the biggest smile you had in you and he kept going. Your legs were soaked and Oberyn was drenched.

It was the nicest day you’d had in so long. The cake was cut, their girls ran around with Mylo while you drank jasmine tea, the food was absolutely delicious.

Oberyn and Ellaria brought out a big gift for Mylo and you had a tiny fight over it. You were so grateful and annoyed that they’d gone out of their way for him.

“It’s nothing! Stop this it’s his birthday of course we got him a present. Enough I insist. Look, he loves it!” She smiled and you shook your head accepting it gracefully.

“He had to have it, we can keep it here so he can use it every day.” Oberyn helped him onto the brand new tricycle and helped him zoom around.

You ended up being thankful you let her talk you into having his birthday there. It was the right choice.

—-

You found yourself thinking about Oberyn more often than not, and it made you feel terribly guilty. Not just for the memory of your husband but for Ellaria. How could you think of him in any other capacity than the owner of the daycare your son went to?

She was so kind to you and you considered her a friend, it felt like a betrayal for you to think of the father of her children this way. You constantly scolded yourself over it.

—

It had been months since Mylos birthday and you felt yourself feeling the big cloud of grief start to fade a little bit. You knew it would never really go away, you had a nagging suspicion that you wouldn’t want it to. As bizarre as it sounded, that intense grief somehow made it seem like it was single handedly keeping the memory of your husband alive.

That didn’t make sense, you knew you didn’t need sadness to keep a part of him close, Mylo was it. He was the physical manifestation of the love between you two.

You used that thought like a mantra. Mylo was it, and he deserved to be happy, he deserved a happy mother and a happy childhood, as happy as you could make it.

Your thoughts of Oberyn persisted however. Sometimes you could swear that his eyes lingered. His smile had a little something in it. It was so confusing and maddening, you felt angry for Ellaria but also an excitement that he could possibly find you attractive. That in itself would cause massive amounts of inner turmoil - an incredible guilt that ate away at you each night when you thought about him. About his kind brown eyes, his dimple- the smooth golden skin.

How could you do this to your husband? How could you do this to Ellaria? It was torture.

You ignored it the best you could.

—-

More time passed, work got better as you slowly felt yourself getting lighter, the fog you constantly found yourself stumbling around in was lifting.

Mylo was talking like crazy, he was growing so much and it felt like you were too.

On a particularly good day you decided to not only do your hair and makeup, but you chose to wear one of your favourite summer wrap dresses to work. You were feeling confident when you walked into the daycare with Mylo.

You heard a tiny gasp when you looked up and saw Ellaria giving you a blinding smile. You felt momentarily self conscious and you wanted to hide but she came over and stopped you.

“Dove you look gorgeous! I love this colour on you! Oberyn does she not look absolutely lovely?” Oberyn was standing behind her and you could see the look on his face as he took you in. It was curious, his eyes were bright and he made you flush.

“An absolute vision - you look radiant.” He wasn’t leering at you, but his look felt very intimate and you felt a little awkward. You tried to convey to Ellaria with your eyes that you were definitely not coming onto her husband but she met you with a knowing look and a wink. You had no idea what she could possibly be trying to convey with that wink but you didn’t want to dwell.

Mylo barreled toward Oberyn and he scooped him up, bringing him close to you so you could say goodbye. When he made his way to the playroom with him Ellaria grabbed your attention.

“He thinks you’re very beautiful, and you are.” She spoke in low tones, it felt like you were gossiping.

“Ellaria - please don’t think I -” she raised her arms with a big smile on her face.

“Don’t even try to apologize sweet girl, I know what you must be thinking. Oberyn and I are not together.” She smiled widely at the look of shock on your face.

“You aren’t? But you call each other my love? You have children?” She laughed, not unkindly.

“Oh we love each other dearly, but we aren’t together any more.” She smiled conspiratorially. “We were together for a long time, and we will always love each other, but we are not romantically involved any more and I am not a jealous woman. Never have been. I want him to be happy.” You could see the truth in her eyes and while it was surprising to find out you’d been wrong about them, it was even more surprising when you understood where this conversation was going.

“Are you playing matchmaker right now?” You were shocked, she could see it written clearly across your face. She smiled at your expression.

“Is that something you’d like sweet girl? I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” The shock was astounding - it silenced you outright.

All those months of guilt over your thoughts about Oberyn, of guilt for Ellaria, for your husband.

“I’ve also seen the way you look at him. No don’t give me that look there’s no reason to feel guilty - he’s a very handsome man and I would think you insane if you told me you weren’t attracted to him.” She smiled at the look of shock on your face.

“Ellaria I don’t know if I’m ready, and looks are just looks.” You were blushing, were your feelings really written across your face like this?

“Dove, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, it’s an option. He’s single, you’re single - you are attracted to each other? What’s the harm? He and I are not together and something tells me your husband would want you to be happy. I know it hurts and you have guilt over the possibility of moving on, but you cannot live in pain for the rest of your life. Open yourself up to love, sweet girl. Promise me you’ll think about it? Whatever you decide.” She sent you on your way with a whole mess of thoughts in your head.

You thought about Ellaria’s words for a long time, were you actually ready to date again? Every time you imagined going out with someone it filled your heart with an emotion you couldn’t comprehend, let alone define.

There was excitement yes, you couldn’t lie to yourself about your attraction to Oberyn. All of your interactions with him had been chaste and although you thought you’d seen little glimmers of lingering looks, kind words and casual compliments - you took them in stride. You treated them the same way you treated kind words and compliments from Ellaria. They were just exceedingly nice, affectionate people.

Were you even comfortable dating him? Yes Ellaria had given you explicit permission, and you knew it wasn’t in her to lie for your benefit. Would it be awkward going on a date with him knowing he’d talk to her about it after? Did you care about that? You’d talk to her about it - you knew then. You’d answer any question she had.

Your husbands smiling face popped into your head and it was hard to confront it then, the guilt was a pit you constantly seemed to stumble into.

You tried to put it out of your mind but it seemed as though Ellaria and Oberyn had discussed it.

“Come Mylo, say goodbye to mama so we can go and play.” She hurried him along and gave you a wink as she left Oberyn and you to speak.

He smiled at you as you put Mylo’s things into his cubby, your heart was racing.

“I was wondering if you would like to grab a coffee with me tonight?” He came out with it. You let out a huge breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding in.

“I really don’t want to come in between the two of you, I know Ellaria said you aren’t together but it still feels like you’re a family.” You blurted the words and half expected him to take his offer back but he smiled warmly.

“I can understand why you would think that. I assure you, we are not romantically involved anymore. If you are comfortable knowing she will always be an important person in my life as my friend, and the mother of my children then my offer stands. I’d very much like to take you out.” His smile was infectious, the ever present guilt was stomped away by something else.

“Yes, okay - coffee tonight.” It felt like your face was on fire.

“Lovely, Ellaria can watch Mylo - before you object it was her idea.” He saw that the words were on the tip of your tongue and he raised his hands in a conciliatory manner. You didn’t quite know how to feel about then discussing the two of you dating like this. It was mature. It was progressive; Ellaria was the greatest wingman on the planet.

---

The longer the day wore on and the closer it came to the end of the work day - the more nervous you got. It was hard to focus on anything aside from your after work plans.

It had been years since you’d been on a first date and although you were somewhat comfortable around Oberyn - you didn’t think he’d see you in this light, as much as you secretly hoped.

Your stomach was in knots the whole drive there, you touched up the little makeup you had on with some mascara and a tinted lip balm you had in your bag and tried to get your hair under control. When you finally felt you looked presentable enough you walked into the daycare.

Oberyn was waiting at the front, he was dressed casually but it looked good. You had the suspicion that he had his clothes specifically tailored to him. The colours and the cut of his clothes always complimented his body, his skin tone, his eyes.

He smiled brightly at you, holding out his arm to escort you outside.

“Ready sweet girl?” You couldn’t help but smile at his words.

“Yes, are you sure Ellaria will be okay with watching Mylo?” You hesitated momentarily but he pulled you along gently, reassuring you that they would be fine.

“Would you like to walk? It’s lovely out, and the coffee shop is close.” He held you close, holding your hand with his big warm one where it held onto his arm. He smelled wonderful, like citrus mixed with something spicy.

“Yes that sounds nice.” You agreed, the weather was nice enough and it was still bright out. You felt the butterflies in your stomach, your skin tingling where he touched you.

“You look lovely by the way, I should have told you earlier.” He spoke very nearly in your ear and it sent a shiver down your spine. You blushed slightly.

“Thank you, you look great too, I love this colour on you.” You meant it, he had a way of wearing yellow.

“Thank you, I am a bit vain when it comes to my clothing I’m afraid.” He laughed ruefully, you knew then, he definitely had his clothes tailored.

You both spoke about mundane things as you made your way over, it was nice to have a normal conversation that didn’t revolve around your son. As much as you loved him, being a mother wasn’t the be all and end all of your personality.

You ordered a coffee and he ordered a tea and you both agreed to sit outside to enjoy the lovely evening weather. You kept the conversation going, telling each other of your childhoods, your interests. He asked about your work, and about where you came from. You did the same, eventually the conversation got a little more serious. You couldn’t help but ask him about his relationship with Ellaria.

“Ellaria and I met a long time ago, we were so young. We loved intensely and ended up having four daughters. Everything was perfect and we were very passionate with each other until we weren’t. There was no big fight, no deception. No betrayal. We grew apart as lovers and now have a deeper love and respect for each other. I want nothing for the best for her but I am not in love with her any longer. I push her to pursue romantic love as she does for me.” He was all smiles as he spoke and you could see the affection he had for her.

“It’s really lovely of you both to have ended on such good terms, your girls must love having you both so close.” You meant every word, they were lucky.

“They do, we are fortunate that we still enjoy each other’s company and that we ended that part of our relationship on good terms.” He smiled warmly but it faltered a little, you felt him bracing himself and you Instantly knew what was coming. “I know you’ve been through something sunflower, and if you do not wish to tell me about it I understand.” He reached over and grasped your hand in both of his.

“I know Ellaria probably told you, but I didn’t tell her the whole story. We were together for a long time, since we were kids practically. Always knew I'd marry him. We did the engagement, simple wedding, and then decided to have a baby. A month into my pregnancy he died. It was a freak accident at work. Shouldn’t have happened and here we are. We never lived the life we should have lived and I’m raising our son on my own.” You took a deep breath and for once you didn’t completely dissolve from speaking about him.

You felt him squeeze your hand in his and you smiled weakly at him.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, I understand what it is to lose someone unexpectedly.” You could feel his sadness, it was a mirror image of your own.

“Elia, your sister - how long has it been?” You scooted a little closer to him, it felt as though this conversation was a tiny spark. Something small and delicate that needed oxygen and you both needed to breathe your life into it.

“Yes, my Elia, it’s been just over a decade.” He leaned into you and you mirrored his actions, the both of you connected through grief as well as your hands.

“I’m so sorry Oberyn - your daughter - you named her after her?” You realized then.

“Yes, it hurt me to say her name at first but it wasn’t fair to her. Elia would not want me to be afraid to say her name.” He laughed then, lost in the memories of his sister. You both smiled at each other then and you felt a curious lightness. It was strangely comforting to know that you had this bond, as morbid as it was. There was a deep understanding there that most people -thankfully- couldn’t understand.

You laughed, you shared stories of your childhood- you connected and you realized how much you missed this. You missed the company and you missed talking to someone in this way. He tentatively held your hand as you walked home and you flushed at the simple touch.

When you made it back to the daycare a few hours later Mylo was asleep and Ellaria gave you a look that said we will definitely be discussing this later with a conspiratorial smile.

“Please allow me, I’ll walk you both to your car.” Oberyn carefully picked Mylo up out of the little cot he was sleeping in and you were impressed that he didn’t wake up. Hopefully you could do the same when you got home.

You were silent as you made your way out, you felt butterflies now even though the date had gone well.

Is he going to kiss me?

Do I want him to kiss me?

He buckled Mylo into his seat and then turned towards you to open the door for you, ever the gentleman.

“I had a lovely evening sunflower, would you like to see each other again?” You saw that he was hopeful as he asked and you already knew you would have said yes.

“I’d like that, I had a great time too.” You realized then that you lingered, not wanting to get into the car just yet and he took the opportunity.

He leaned in slowly, watching your mouth, lips parted slightly and back up to your eyes and you knew that he was asking permission. You closed the distance and kissed him.

It was a soft kiss, so soft it made your lips tingle. He kept it chaste, not wanting to push it further and you couldn’t express how grateful you were to him for that. He took your hand in his as you got into your car and kissed your knuckles.

“I’ll see you tomorrow sunflower.” He smiled and waited outside until you drove away.

The smile wouldn’t go away, not while you carefully brought Mylo in, not while you took a shower before bed. Not even while you lay there in the dark. It was plastered in your face and you felt like a teenager again. You could still feel the kiss as you drifted off.

He was hugging you but it was wrong

This didn’t feel like your husband, but you couldn’t let go - the shape of him didn't feel right. You couldn’t see his face, but you did see the yellow swirl of fabric as he wrapped himself around you.

Sunflower - you look lovely

Oberyn? You’re not supposed to be here…This was his space

He’s already gone my love

You jolted awake in a cold sweat. The tears were heavy and hot as you remembered, your dreams were always his space. The one place you could see him, you let the grief engulf you then. Knew you needed to wallow in it full for a few minutes before you could even attempt to let it go.

Part of you wanted to run, leave and never come back. Never see Oberyn again, abandon your life here with Mylo and take off just the two of you; but what good would that do? Would it bring your husband back? No. Would it make you happy? No. Could you bear the thought of pulling Mylo out of a place he loved so much over a dream? No.

Oberyn sensed your sadness when you walked in through the door. He had been waiting for you, it made you feel guilty to see him wilt slightly at your expression.

“Sunflower, have I done something to upset you?” He took Mylo into his arms as he spoke to you and you felt even worse then. How could you explain your feelings?

“No of course not - I had a wonderful time yesterday, I just- I don’t know how to explain it…” You tried to convey your feelings but the words failed you.

“Try, I want to try to understand - let us be honest with each other.” He wasn’t upset, he spoke calmly and you could feel that he meant it. He wanted you to open up, so you did.

“Sometimes, when I dream - I see my husband. Yesterday, I saw you and it hurt me… this is insane, I know it’s just a dream, but I felt like I betrayed him. I think I’m going insane.” You heard how it sounded, the embarrassment threatening to eat you alive in that moment and you swore that if he laughed at you then you’d leave and never come back. He didn’t laugh.

“You feel guilty that you saw me instead of him, that I’m somehow replacing him?” He was gently rubbing soothing circles onto you back as he held your son in his arms. You nodded weakly, tears threatening to overflow.

“Sunflower, I can never replace your husband, nor would I want to. I don’t want you to see me as a substitute for him, I want you to see me as I am. My own person and if this goes as well as I hope it will then our relationship will be something new. Not better, not a replacement- something new altogether, something ours. If you feel like you need more time then say the word and we will hold off.” He looked at you with such tenderness, such understanding, you knew in your heart this was right. You had to let the hurt pass.

“Thank you, I don’t want to wait. I don’t want you to replace him either, I want to continue this with you.” Your voice was thick with emotion and Mylo, sensing your mood reached over to hug you. It felt like a catharsis and you clutched at him. Oberyn held both of you and whispered that he too wanted this with you.

You felt lighter as you drove to work, the pain over losing the love of your life would never go away and not seeing him where you expected to hurt more than you thought, but you had to stop this. He would not want you to live your life this way.

The two of you continued your shy courting, you went out for dinner a few times - coffee dates and long walks. He took you to museums and art galleries - he never pushed you beyond a kiss here or there and you were grateful for that. It had been a long time since you’d slept with anyone new and you were a bit nervous.

You had asked him to come to your place for dinner, that you would cook for him. Ellaria- like always volunteering to watch Mylo for the two of you. It was nice to have him at your place, he blended right in. No shyness as he made himself at home - helping you with dinner, tidying up as you went along. You made a good team.

He complimented your cooking, and asked if he could take some home for his girls to try which you loved. You were packing up the rest when he came up behind you, his arms encircling you and stopping you from continuing. You couldn’t help but smile, it was so nice to have someone hold you like this.

“Thank you for a wonderful meal, sunflower it was lovely.” He kissed your shoulder and you craned your neck, unconsciously giving him more room which he took advantage of. You could feel his breath ghosting along your skin, it sent pleasant shivers down your spine. You turned to face him and the look on his face was so warm, so inviting - it did something to you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and slowly brought him closer to you, he smiled into the kiss at first, but it disappeared when you licked along the seam of his mouth. He granted you entry and slanted his mouth to better fit yours, taking the opportunity to explore your mouth thoroughly. He dipped you slightly as his hunger for you shined through, it was so good it made you ache, he was a very good kisser and you moaned into his mouth. You grabbed at the back of his head to keep him close while his hands lowered until he boldly grabbed handfuls of your ass. You bit his lip and he groaned into your mouth. He pulled away much too soon.

“I could devour you…” he spoke into your neck, between open mouthed kisses, sucking lightly at the skin below your ear. You felt the arousal pooling in your belly at his words and his kisses and all of a sudden you were desperate for him. You pulled him towards the couch wordlessly and you all but pushed him onto it. You quickly straddled him and kissed him with as much passion and urgency as you could without hurting him. He responded eagerly, matching your intensity. You roughly pulled his clothes and although you could feel his excitement between your legs, he stopped you.

“Sunflower, are you sure?” he gasped when you bit his neck, soothing it quickly with your tongue.

“Yes, I’m ready, I’m so ready..” You kissed him roughly again, conveying just how ready you were by rolling your hips onto him. He quickly moved his arms to take off his shirt, accidentally bumping his head into yours, you both laughed at the absurdity of it. Looking more like teenagers in your urgency to disrobe.

“Are you okay?” you were both laughing as he rubbed at the place where his head connected with yours, smoothing the hurt away from you: in more ways than he realized.

“Yes - a little embarrassed and I feel like we’re both going to have goose eggs in a few hours but I’m fine. Are you okay?” You tried to soothe the pain on his forehead.

His expressions softened a little, he took your hands in his and kissed them.

“Lets try this again.” He slowly took your shirt off and your bra. Then his shirt and held you close to him; he kissed you deeply, the laughter was gone and you felt the arousal again as he trailed his kisses down your body. Your neck, your collarbone, your chest. His tongue licking each nipple like his life depended on it. He was devouring you as promised and you were determined to let him. Your hands held his hair as he continued to kiss and lick at your chest and you couldn’t take it anymore. It had been so long.

You got up and took the rest of your clothes off and he took the opportunity to do the same, the frenzy was back and your eyes widened at the sight of him. Hard and leaking with precum. You hastily climbed onto him, he protested slightly-

“Sunflower, I want to taste you first -” You cut him off.

“We have plenty of time - right now I just want to ride you.” He groaned at your urgency and you grasped him in your hand, pumping him a few times because you needed to touch the velvety skin of his cock. When you finally guided him into you and sat flush to him it was heaven. He was splitting you open and you could have cum just from the noises he made. He grabbed at your ass and helped you roll your hips, the pressure against your clit was almost perfect.

“So tight, so wet for me..” he moved forward quicker than you would have thought, causing you to scramble and clutch at his shoulders. “I’ve got you, I need more.” He lowered you onto the floor in your living room, spreading your thighs wide to settle in between them.

His hips snapped forward again and again and again and the rhythm was tightening and tightening that coil in your belly. You raised your legs to lock them high on his hips - god he was so deep like this - you could barely control the whimpers escaping your mouth with every thrust. He rested his head onto your forehead, the two of you seemingly sharing the same air. It was so good and you were so close, the sound of him slipping into your wet heat over and over was only serving to push you closer towards your climax.

“You’re so wet sweet girl, are you close? I want you to cum, I want to fuck you through your high.” he bit your lip as he spoke and you moaned - all you could do was nod frantically, you were so close. He felt you trying to raise your leg higher and he helped you, leaning onto one arm so he could hook your thigh under the other. You were so open for him and the new angle caused your eyes to practically roll into the back of your head.

“There it is, that’s where you want it huh? Right there? Rub your clit sunflower, make yourself cum on my cock.” he was hitting something white hot and blinding with each thrust and when you obeyed him you came undone, seizing up almost painfully. He didn’t stop. He sped up, chasing his own climax at the rush of your arousal soaking him.

“Can I cum inside?” he was frantic now, his thrusts turning into a steady grind which felt almost sinful.

“Yes yes please, I want to feel you.” you kissed him through it and he fell onto you, you felt him twitching inside of you, felt the cum dripping out of you as he collapsed onto your chest. Both of you breathing hard.

The laughter came then, bubbling up as a giggle at first. Then it was full-throated and it hurt your belly. You had just had sex on your livingroom floor and you felt so light and happy for the first time in so long you couldn’t control it.

He propped himself up onto his elbow to watch you as you laughed, a big smile on his face.

“I sincerely hope that you’re laughing from happiness and not at my performance.” He said it with a grin and you knew he wasn’t at all self-conscious. You slapped playfully at his chest and he snatched up your hand to kiss it. “I love to hear you laugh Sunflower, seeing you like this is wonderful.” he leaned into you and kissed you deeply, making you sigh into his mouth.

“I haven’t felt this way in a long time, I don’t even know what to do with myself.” It almost made you nervous, somehow expecting the other shoe to fall. He saw your emotions written across your face and he pulled you closer.

“Enjoy it, this was good - we both enjoyed it and you deserve to feel good. Now, let’s get up off the floor or I will be useless tomorrow.” He got up, helping you up after. He went to get dressed but you stopped him, pulling him instead towards your room; you pulled him into your bathroom to shower.

As you helped each other wash, you realized how much you missed this kind of intimacy with another person. As he washed your skin, he wasn’t only getting rid of the day, he was washing away part of your sadness, replacing the ache with hope. Hope that this could grow into something bigger, something more serious.

Ellaria wouldn’t let you move, you had to keep reminding her that you had been pregnant before and that you were perfectly capable of making yourself tea. She was having none of it.

It was so strange - you never in a million years would have thought that this kind of relationship would have worked but it did. Oberyn had made a commitment to you and was willing to do anything to make you happy - except be away from his children. Which as far as you were concerned was not an option, you wanted him to be there for them. When he tentatively suggested you moving into the big house and helping with the daycare it seemed almost natural. Ellaria was almost like a sister at this point, and you loved their girls like they were your own.

When you found out you were pregnant, you momentarily thought it might be a problem - that he might not want another child but you were wrong in that as well. He was overjoyed. He was over the moon - he was suggesting new names every day. Ellaria was ecstatic. They doted on you constantly. It was unconventional, but it was your life now and you couldn’t imagine it any other day.

“Good morning my sunflower, and just how is the little prince this morning?” he came down to find you drinking your tea, you were really showing now. He kneeled in front of you, the sun shining in through a window - giving him an ethereal glow.

“How are you so convinced it’s a boy? It could be a girl.” You laughed as he lifted your shirt and kissed your belly. The baby kicked, sensing it’s father. He smiled and pressed his cheek to it.

“I just know it’s a boy-” Ellaria cut him off.

“Oh please Oberyn, you know you only make girls.” She laughed, coming over to rub your belly lovingly. “I know you’re a little princess.” She smiled warmly at you.

You laughed to yourself as they discussed the baby, the light making him look like the sun - shining at you.

Sunflowers always turn towards the sun.

---

Let me know if you do not want to be included in all things Pedro

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j3ssisam3ss · 3 years

Text

Childhood Friends - Fluff

For @animebookworm16

It got kind of long and I’m not really sure it still counts as fluff, but here’s my piece for @maribat-angst-fluff-april, prompt 25, Childhood Friends.

Damian Al Ghul-Wayne was five years old the first time he met a girl his age. And in typical League of Assassins style, he went for efficiency by meeting ten at once.

“These are your betrothed,” Talia told him. “All but one will be dead by your twelfth birthday. You will marry the sole survivor on your eighteenth birthday and produce an Heir to carry on the great legacy of the League of Assassins.”

Nine of the girls heard the words without so much as a flinch. The last stared in shock at Talia, then broke into tears.

“Quiet, Marinette,” Talia hissed.

“No,” she yelled defiantly, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I want my mama!”

Talia backhanded her and she fell to the floor with a yelp.

Damian surveyed the girl – Marinette – with distaste.

“Mother, surely you don’t consider this sniveling coward worthy to compete for my hand?”

“Her mother, Sabine Cheng, was our best assassin for years before she turned traitor. I suppose she’s lost her touch if she raised such a weak daughter.” Talia shrugged elegantly. “No matter, if she turns out to be useless, we’ll ship her mutilated corpse back to Sabine as a reminder of what happens when you cross the League.”

She waved the girls away. “To your training now.”

Damian watched as Marinette sniffled and followed the other girls out the door.

She won’t last a week.

He had no idea how wrong he was.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was five years old the first time she won a fight. And in typical Dupain-Cheng fashion, she did so in the most unpredictable way possible.

“You’re going down, pigtails,” shouted a pretty brunette, charging at Marinette with a sword that was as tall as she was.

With a startled shriek, Marinette darted away. She hated how behind she was here. Back home, she was good at everything – reading circle, art class, tussles when the teacher’s back was turned. Here, it felt like she was constantly playing catch-up.

Not to mention, the constant threat of death was not fun.

Skidding around a corner of the labyrinth arena, she tripped over a protruding stone and fell to the ground. The brunette grinned viciously, advancing towards her.

Marinette smiled nervously. “Can’t we talk this out?”

“Not a chance, shortie,” said the brunette.

Marinette glanced around frantically.

I don’t want to die!

She reached for a rock, a stick, anything that could help her fight, but came up with only a handful of sand. With a pleading glance heavenward, she flung it into the brunette’s face and lurched to her feet, grinning when the girl had to stop to get the grit out of her eyes.

Taking off into the labyrinth of passages, she nearly stumbled again, this time over a nearly buried metal object.

She shifted away the dirt surrounding it and smirked. “Finally, a weapon I know how to use.”

Ten minutes later, the watching League members straightened in surprise as the smallest and weakest of Damian’s betrotheds utterly decimated her opponent.

With a frying pan.

“What are you doing here?”

The two children spoke in unison, glaring daggers at one another.

“I always come here,” Marinette said. “It’s my drawing spot.”

“The vents are my domain, Dupain-Cheng,” Damian said. “Get out.”

Two years’ worth of resentment and anger simmered beneath Marinette’s skin.

Drawing is the last thing I have of home. I won’t let him take it from me.

“No.”

Damian looked thunderstruck and Marinette couldn’t keep the smirk off her face.

“I am Heir to the Demon! You will obey me!”

“You may be Heir to the Demon, but right now you’re also a kid skipping classes,” Marinette argued. “And if you make me leave, I’ll tell Talia exactly where you go when you’re not in class.”

Ha, take that, you tyrant!

Damian froze. Marinette watched as emotions overtook his face – anger, resentment, then acceptance.

“Fine,” he grumbled.

Marinette smiled and returned to her sketchbook – which wasn’t really a sketchbook, just some loose papers she’d tucked into her history book.

A few minutes later, Damian peered over her shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Drawing,” she said, holding out a few of her older sketches, the ones she wouldn’t mind losing if Damian decided to rip them. “There’s your mother fighting, cook making soup, the sunset from this other spot in the vents – actually, that one’s pretty bad because I didn’t have any colors.”

Damian stared at the drawing of his mother.

“I’m keeping this,” he announced.

Well, at least he didn’t tear it up.

The next week, when Marinette arrived at her drawing spot, Damian was already there. With an annoyed grunt, he shoved a sketchbook and colored pencils into her hands.

Marinette looked between him and the supplies in confusion. “What’s this for?”

“Teach me how to draw.”

Marinette bit her lip, looking longingly at the colored pencils. Then, she pushed them back towards Damian.

“I want you to give me weapons training. As often as I teach you drawing.”

I may be naturally talented at combat, but the other girls have been training their entire lives. I need to catch up.

Damian eyed her suspiciously. “That’s against the rules.”

“So? Are you scared?”

“Never.”

“Then it’s a deal?”

“It’s a deal.”

Damian lunged, making a displeased noise when his quarry danced out of his reach.

“You’re slow today, Dami,” Marinette teased. “Losing your touch?”

Marinette was no longer the scared little girl she’d been at five, or even at seven. She’d thrown herself into her training with single-minded determination and two years of training with Talia by day and Damian by night had made her a formidable – and snarky – combatant.

“Never,” Damian replied. His next attack nearly threw her off-balance.

With a grunt, Marinette recovered her footing and countered with a flurry of blows that would have left a lesser opponent dizzy.

Damian smirked, parrying each attack easily. “Completely mediocre. Should I tell my mother that her protégé is slipping?”

Although he’d never admit it, Damian was proud of her. She’d gone from being the worst of the League’s trainees to the only one able to keep up with him in a fight.

“Me? Slipping? Not a chance.” Marinette flipped backwards, knocking his weapon away. “Hey, Damian?”

“Yes, Marinette?” He scooped up his katana, readying himself for her next move.

“The floor is lava.”

With a startled intake of air, he leaped onto the nearest table.

“Really?” he asked, half annoyed, half amused.

Marinette giggled, peering down at him from her spot in the ceiling rafters. “I thought we could use an extra challenge.”

Damian glanced up at her. “You just like having the high ground.”

“Technically speaking, it’s the high rafter,” she pointed out.

“Either way, it won’t prevent me from defeating you,” Damian said, pulling himself into the rafters.

At that moment, the door opened and they both immediately went still.

“Damian? Are you here?”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him. “Skipping again?” she mouthed.

Damian shrugged in response.

Rolling her eyes, Marinette gestured to the vents behind him. “I’ll meet you in the lower training rooms to finish our bout.”

“Marinette!” The teacher startled as she caught a glimpse of the pigtailed girl. “What are you doing up there?”

Effortlessly, the girl swung down from the ceiling, drawing the teacher’s attention away from Damian’s hiding place.

“Just improving my arm strength, Mistress Eva.” As she distracted his teacher with false information about his whereabouts, Damian climbed into the vents.

Marinette makes a surprisingly tolerable ally.

It didn’t seem to matter how many people Marinette killed; it never got easier. Surrounded by the bodies of Deathstroke’s traitors, she retched.

She was alone. Somehow, in the midst of the fight, she’d gotten separated from the rest of the League’s loyalists.

I need to get moving. I’m an easy target right now.

With a shuddering breath, she climbed to her feet and made her way out of the compound and into the shadows. It was there, staring at the ruins of the League’s strongest base, that the realization hit her.

“I’m free,” Marinette whispered, tears trickling down her face.

The Head of the Demon was dead, his followers scattered.

“I can finally go home.”

She ignored the voice in her mind that said her home was here, with the League, with Damian. She ignored the tightness in her chest at the thought of never seeing Damian again. She ignored the fear that he might already be dead.

The League kidnapped me. Talia abused me. Even if I managed to be happy here, I owe the Al Ghuls nothing. A vow of loyalty made under duress is no vow at all.

Her hands curled into fists.

And if they come for me again, I’ll be ready.

Damian scowled as their plane descended into Gotham.

“This is imbecilic. I should be assisting you in decimating our enemies, not hiding like a frightened child.”

“Damian,” his mother’s voice was cold. “This is not up for negotiation. You will stay here and train with your father.”

“Yes, Mother,” he replied bitterly. A moment passed, then he tilted his head in thought. “But what of my betrothed? If she is to be my equal, should she not train with me?”

Talia studied him carefully. “You use the singular of betrothed,” she noted. “Despite the fact that three remain alive. I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me which one you consider your wife-to-be?”

“Tt. Your protégé, the Cheng girl, is the only one that even approaches competent. You know this.”

“I also know that you trained her separately – against my orders,” Talia said.

Damian nearly flinched. “And yet you didn’t stop me.”

“I wonder if that was a mistake,” his mother said. “You feel more for her than you should.”

“She is an effective ally. That is all.”

“Then you won’t mind being separated from her for a while.”

“Not at all, Mother,” Damian lied.

“Marinette? Is that you?” Her mother looked as if she’d seen a ghost.

Marinette smiled. “Hello, Mama.”

Sabine reached out a shaking hand to cup her face. “How are you here? We saw you die.”

“Sabine, do you know where – ” Tom dropped the pan of croissants. “Marinette?”

He jumped over the counter and raced to her. Marinette took a step back before her mind caught up with her body.

This is Papa, you idiot. He’s not a threat.

She threw herself into his arms, shoving away her fears.

Twisting to face her mother, she said, “I don’t know how my death was faked, but I never died. The League kidnapped me.”

Tom’s arms tightened around her.

“The League?” Sabine’s face went pale. “What did they want with you?”

“The usual,” Marinette said with a shrug. “Revenge on you for leaving and a capable assassin and potential wife for Damian if I turned out to be any good.”

“Who’s Damian?” Tom asked with a frown.

Marinette grinned. “Oh, Damian’s great! He’s the Heir to the League, but he’s actually pretty okay for an assassin. He helped me get good enough to survive. You know, after I blackmailed and bribed him.”

“What?”

Meeting his father did not go the way Damian had imagined.

Talia always spoke of Bruce Wayne’s great intellect, his strength in combat, his determination in all things. She never mentioned his brainless playboy act, his absurd prohibition of killing, or his habit of taking in strays. Damian wasn’t sure which one was most offensive, but he was incredibly disappointed in his father regardless.

He had to reassess after he saw Batman at work. When not purposely acting like a buffoon, Bruce Wayne was everything his mother had described and more, entirely deserving of Damian’s respect.

He set out to prove himself in his father’s eyes. It didn’t go well. Whatever he did, it was the wrong thing. In any fight with the imposter sons, Damian was punished – even if he won. Assisting his father with Wayne Enterprises was met with an eye-roll and a request to stay away from Bruce’s office.

It should have made Damian angry but instead it hurt and Damian did not understand why.

And then his father was gone. Richard Grayson became Batman.

Damian became Robin. Finally.

And yet the triumph felt hollow.

Not to mention, it came with strings attached: ‘Murder is bad.’ ‘Justice, not vengeance.’ ‘Robin doesn’t kill.’ ‘Protect rather than avenge.’

Grayson’s teachings were imbecilic. And yet he had to follow them. His mother had yet to finish with the traitors.

He wondered where Marinette was, if she was undergoing similar training, if she fought the way he did to reign in the bloodlust. Considering how she had to hide her dislike of killing, how she helped heal her competitors, he thought probably not.

Slowly, things got easier. Grayson became tolerable. Damian learned to suppress the instinct, the muscle memory that said ‘kill or be killed.’ He found an adoration for animals and learned to deal with his classmates. He finally began to understand why Grayson and his father valued life so highly. His father came back and he chose to deny the League. Wayne Manor became home.

On days when he struggled, he retreated to his room and the comfort of his sketchbook. And if a certain blue-eyed girl made an appearance every few pages, well, who would know but him?

Returning home did not go the way Marinette had imagined.

She knew it wouldn’t be sunshine and roses, of course. But she hadn’t expected the magnitude of the changes in her home, or in herself.

School was laughably easy. Marinette had the equivalent of several college degrees. Finding x and learning how to spell ‘earthquake’ was a waste of her time. Instead, she spent class drawing and coming up with increasingly complex plans for fighting off the League should they try to kidnap her again.

She kept herself closed off from her classmates – she didn’t know how she’d ever called them friends. They were neutral parties at best – not one ever stood up for her against Chloe. Her parents encouraged them to give her classmates a chance, but the League had trained her well. Misplaced trust could kill. And Marinette had fought long enough for survival to know that dropping your guard was a death knell.

She hated hurting her parents though.

Though they tried to hide it, she saw the pain cross their faces when she flinched away from hugs. When she moved like an assassin rather than a child. When she gave away her stuffed animals. When she skipped family game night and spent her time training.

She hated hurting her parents. So she changed.

Marinette locked away her lethal grace, faking clumsiness and turning it into an art form. She hid her weapons, training only when her parents were asleep. She returned to family game nights; she initiated hugs. At school, she became bubbly and friendly again, though she trusted no one.

More than anything, she tried to atone. She sought out those in need and tried to help – whether by providing food, babysitting, or making them warm clothing. She discovered an interest in fashion design, but mostly stuck to making the essentials for those in need. She met a tiny floating bug named Tikki and became a superhero.

On days when she struggled, she retreated to her room and the comfort of her sketchbook. And if green eyes and a cocky smirk featured prominently in the book, well, who would know but her?

Damian frowned as he followed his brother into Wayne Enterprises.

"I don't understand why it's so important for me to be here."

"C'mon, Baby Bird!" Dick said. "You said you wanted to be more involved in the company!"

"I meant the business side of things," Damian said. "I have no interest in showing around a gaggle of unruly teenagers."

"You're a teenager too," Dick pointed out. "It'll be fun!"

Damian sniffed. "I'm an adult. And fun, really? Surely you don't truly believe that?"

Dick sighed. "Just give it a chance, okay? They seem like really great kids."

They walked into the lobby and Damian stopped short, eyes catching on long black hair and brilliant blue eyes.

"Marinette?"

In truth, Marinette wasn't all that excited about the Wayne Enterprises tour. The architecture was interesting, sure, but her class had a habit of making themselves a target and Bruce Wayne's patronage was not helping.

She gave it three days, at most, before they got in trouble with Gotham's Rouges.

Which meant she was on 'keep the class from dying' duty. Joy.

She kept her eyes and ears peeled, which meant that she heard the faint whisper of her name from an unfamiliar voice.

"Marinette?"

Forest-green eyes filled with far too much emotion had her breath catching in her throat.

"Damian?"

With obvious effort, the League's Heir pulled himself together. "Fancy meeting you here, Dupain-Cheng."

His voice. Oh, kwami, it should be illegal to look AND sound that good. Nope. Nope. Not doing this. He's an assassin, get your act together, Marinette.

"Al-Ghul." She was proud that her voice betrayed nothing. "I have to admit, I'm surprised to see you here. This doesn't seem like your scene."

She reached out for a handshake and was taken off guard when Damian kissed her hand instead. She blushed.

"It's Wayne now," Damian said. "I'm... no longer associated with the Al-Ghuls. Or their business."

He's not an assassin anymore? Yes! I knew you were a good person deep, deep down, Dami!

"Really? I broke ties with them several years ago myself."

See that, Damian? We're both good people. Good people that would be great toget - no! Bad Marinette!

Damian grinned. "In that case, I look forward to reconnecting. Perhaps after the tour?"

Oh, kwami, I'm doomed.

"I'd like that."

"What was that?" Dick asked in a low voice. "I've never seen you open up to someone so quickly."

With difficulty, Damian tore his gaze from Marinette.

Stars, she grew up gorgeous.

Damian smirked. "Don't be ridiculous, Grayson. I met Marinette over a decade ago."

I wonder, does she still consider our betrothal valid?

"Wait, so she's an assassin?" Grayson blanched. "Who is she here to kill? Who do I have to protect? Ugh! Why can't you ever have normal friends?"

"Relax," Damian chided. "She's an ex-assassin. Like me."

"That does not make me feel better. Who is she to you?"

Damian hummed in thought, running through years of teasing, fighting, and spending time together. "She was my first friend."

And maybe now something more.

#daminette #maribat #maribat angst and fluff april

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alwaysmarveling · 3 years

Text

Milestones

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

Warnings: None that I can think of, but please let me know if you think I’m forgetting any!

Word Count: 3.9k

Summary: You and Nat are starting a family. It’s challenging, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A/N: Welcome to the first series I’ve ever finished! I was a bit hesitant to publish this because, it being my first series, I’m not too sure how good it is and it does hold a special place in my heart, but if just one of you ends up liking it too, it’ll be worth it. This part is all fluff, but there will be angst in future parts. If you’re not a fan of that, this can just be read as a fluffy one-shot :) And big thanks to @vancityfire13 for talking this through with me, I really appreciate it <3

“He’s beautiful,” you sniffed, tears swelling in your eyes and spilling over the edge as they built up. Your wife squeezed your shoulder, and a drop landing just shy of your collarbone told you that she was crying too.

“He’s ours.” You cradled the baby boy—your baby boy—in your arms as he drank from your breast. “I still can’t believe they did it.” You let out a watery chuckle in response.

When Fury approached the two of you after he “accidentally” overheard your and Natasha’s conversation about having kids, you weren’t sure how to react. It was no secret among SHIELD that the two of you were together. In fact, you two had become somewhat of the organization’s power couple immediately after the many rumors claiming you were together were proven to be true. Still, the thought of all their best scientists working together just to give you two a biological child seemed a bit extreme, especially since the two of you did want to adopt someday. Nat, being the overprotective partner she was, was ready to launch herself at Fury, but you managed to pull her back before any real harm was done (Nat later got her revenge, and she made sure Fury didn’t tell you about it; she ended up confessing when you caught her looking just a bit too happy the next day though). The two of you had many long nights of talking over his offer, and before you knew it, you were pregnant with your first child, a child that would be biologically related to you and Natasha.

You guys had spent many nights talking about what your baby might look like, whether they’d have your laugh or her athleticism, your humor or her determination. Nat hoped they would be all you, while you could easily say the opposite.

When it came time to find out the baby’s sex, it took some serious convincing on Natasha’s part to get you to agree. In her mind, having a baby was surprise enough; she had to remind herself everyday that you really were pregnant with your child, her child. She did not need another surprise when the baby came. She wanted to be prepared, and who could blame her? You, on the other hand, wanted to wait. It was just the sex, after all. That didn’t change the preparations much. Nevertheless, after some bribery and more talking, you reluctantly agreed to learn the sex before the baby was born.

Hearing the words “it’s a boy” sent both of you into a tizzy. Nat wasn’t expecting it, and neither were you. Sure, there was a 50% chance of having a boy, but both of you were just so sure that it was a girl. After getting the doctor to check for the third time, you finally accepted that you were wrong.

Then came the discussion of names. What to name him, should he have a nickname, what would he call your friends and family?

One night, you took Natasha out for a walk around the park (this was before you got so big you couldn’t see your own feet) and a nice dinner on the waterfront. With the lights forming a halo around her already glowing face, you told her what you wanted the baby to be named: Igor. The minute you found the name, you knew it was perfect, and when you found out it was Russian and meant “warrior,” well, that was just icing on the cake.

“I’ve already got one Russian warrior who I love and adore more than words can express, and I can’t wait to have another. You’re everything I love and everything I want him to be. I think that’s what his name should be. And I know that, with a mom as perfect as you, he’ll live up to it.” You barely had time to get those last few words out before Natasha leaped over the table, silverware clinking and glasses wobbling as she lunged to pull your face into her hands, the two of you melting at the lips and forgetting about all the other patrons eating around you.

“I love you more than you know,” Natasha let out between breaths, finally letting you go.

“I have a feeling I do,” you giggled, “because I love you more.”

“Impossible.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yeah huh.” You two “argued” about that for the rest of the night.

Then came the nursery. Nat insisted that you only be allowed to help in designing. You were already seven months along, she said, and that was seven too many. Plus, she pointed out with a not-so-subtle wink, she didn’t need help when she had “guns as big as these.” With some not-so-gentle persuasion from Clint, you settled on a farm-themed nursery. Less than a week later, Clint had gone out to god-knows-how-many stores and came back with more than enough decorations and furniture to fill the baby’s room, the many leftovers spilling out into the hallways and even your bedroom (much to his dismay, you made him return more than half of what he bought). The nursery was completed within weeks, and then all the two of you had to do was wait for your little bundle of joy to arrive.

Insistent ringing from Natasha’s phone pulled the two of you out of your peaceful moment.

“It’s Fury,” Natasha huffed playfully. “He’s asking if ‘the gross part is over yet.’ You ready to show him off to the world?”

“My world is all right here,” you murmured, fully sincere in what you were saying.

“As is mine.” The redhead’s finger lifted your chin up, your gaze shifting from your little boy to the prettiest woman in the universe. “I’m the luckiest woman in the world.”

“I tell myself that every day,” you smiled, meeting her lips in a sweet kiss.

---

“Nat! Come quick! Hurry! I think he’s going to do it!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” your wife responded with equal urgency. “You going to do it, Igoryok? You going to walk for Mamas?” The baby boy giggled, nothing but pure glee on his face as he pushed himself to stand. You held out your arms to your son, cooing words of encouragement as he stumbled his way towards you. He started maybe only four feet away, but when he finally made it to you, you swung him into the air and you and Nat cheered like he had just finished first in the 400 metres at the Olympics. You could’ve sworn your life couldn’t get any better than it was at that point, safe, happy, and healthy with the two people you loved most in the world right by your side.

“Did you get it on video, Natty?”

“Of course, malyshka. Such a big milestone needs to be kept forever, isn’t that right, Igoryok?” Igor laughed when the redhead reached over and tickled him just under his chin. The two of you soon joined in, his joyous giggles impossible to resist.

“You’re an amazing mother,” Nat murmured to you that night as the two of you laid in bed. “And you’re raising an amazing son. I love you.” She tilted her head down to meet your lips.

“I love you too, Nat, but you’re also raising an amazing son. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.” She nodded slowly, reluctantly. “What is it?”

“I just… Being here today with you and Igor, it was perfect. Everything was perfect. And I hate how I have to throw us out of that every time I leave.” You frowned as you turned onto your stomach, pushing yourself up on one arm and using the other hand to cup Nat’s face.

“You’re not the only one working, you know. I feel that way too, every time I have to go on a mission or even just leave for the office.”

“I know,” she sighed. “But I’m gone so much more often than you are. Especially now that you’ve switched to mostly training others.”

“Just because you’re not here all the time doesn’t make you a bad mom, Tash. You’re the best mom because you love him with all of your heart and you’ll do anything for him. And-“

“I want to retire.”

“What?” Out of all the things that could’ve come out of Nat’s mouth, that was not the one you were expecting or prepared for.

“I wanna be there when he says his first words and when he loses his first tooth and when he goes to school for the first time. I want to be here.”

“But… you love your job.”

“I know,” she whispered, her eyes shining. “But I love Igor more.”

“And Igor will know that. Igor already knows that. Sweetheart, part of doing anything for Igor includes protecting him from bad guys. You do that every day you go to work. You show him you love him by fighting to give him the best life possible. If you want to retire,” your hand finally slid down from her cheek to hold her hand, “then I will support you every step of the way. But if you’re doing this because you think you’re a bad mother if you don’t, then you need to know that that is not true at all.” Natasha bit her lip as she thought over what you said. You gave her the time she needed, rubbing small circles into the back of her hand.

You would be lying if you said you never had those same thoughts. Both of you felt awful every time you had to hand Igor over to one of the nanny or even one of the Avengers or their families. The two of you loved them and Igor loved them, and they always took amazing care of him, but it was hard to not feel bad knowing your child wanted nothing more than to be in your arms. The first time Igor wailed as you handed him over to Laura, you filled out all the retirement paperwork the next day, keeping it on your desk for weeks before you eventually talked yourself out of it.

Just as Natasha was opening her mouth to respond, she was interrupted by Igor’s cries from the baby monitor.

“I’ll get him,” your wife reassured you. You nodded reluctantly, not wanting to stop the conversation but knowing you’d have to regardless of who left.

---

“Guess who’s coming home today, buddy?” Igor babbled random syllables back at you, grabbing onto your hair as you lifted him out of his crib. “Gentle, Igor, gentle,” you winced, slowly pulling his hands away from your locks. Sounds from downstairs had you looking away from Igor and towards the hallway.

“That must be Mama!” You weren’t too sure if he understood you, but he definitely fed off of your excitement, letting out another string of syllables and clapping his hands together.

“Hellooo! Anybody home?” Natasha’s red hair was the first thing you saw as you rounded the corner to see the front door. “Hi, rybka! How are you doing?” Your boy held his hands out to Natasha, obviously excited to see her. She grinned back at the two of you, but both of your eyes grew wide when he opened his mouth.

“Mama!” With that one word, you could’ve sworn your heart stopped beating. Nat’s eyes met yours, the love she felt for you and your son overflowing in the form of crystal droplets that filled her green orbs.

“That’s right, Igor, Mama. Can you give Mama a kiss?” You smiled as you handed Igor to Nat, your little boy puckering his lips dramatically to plant a wet kiss on her cheek.

“Thank you, Igoryok,” the redhead laughed. “He said ‘Mama,’ Y/N. His first word! He called me ‘mama.’” She was smiling so hard her cheeks were practically trembling.

“Because you are his mama. The best mama in the whole wide world,” you murmured, kissing her other cheek.

“No one could ever be as good as you. I love you so much, malyshka.”

“I love you too.”

“Mama!” The two of you laughed once again, your intimate moment interrupted but neither of you could complain.

“How was the mission?” you asked, both of you somewhat preoccupied with the bouncing babe in Nat’s arms.

“Good. Clean.”

“No injuries?”

“Not even a bruise.” You scanned her face and body to see if she was lying, and eventually nodded once you were satisfied.

“Good. Now, I believe it is someone’s dinner time.”

---

“Hi, Igoryok, how was school?”

“Hi, Mama. It was good. We learned about the letter ‘m’ today. Mama, did you know ‘m’ goes ‘mm’?”

“It does? I thought it sounded different.”

“No, Mama, you’re silly. Your name starts with an ‘m.’”

“Huh, I think you’re right. Did you know that, babe? Mama starts with an ‘m,’” Natasha winked at you.

“No, I didn’t know that, but thank you for sharing that with me,” you smiled back. “You're not going to say hi to me, Iggy?”

“Hi, Mom. Your name starts with ‘m’ too.” Igor bent over the center console in between the two of you. “Can we get ice cream? Please?” Your wife laughed before turning to you.

“I’m not too sure what that has to do with letters, but what do you say, Mom?” Nat asked, a smirk on her face as she emphasized the first letter.

“Um, it does because…” The two of you watched, amused, as Igor’s face scrunched up in concentration. Suddenly, he lit up, a grin overtaking his expression. “It does because ice cream starts with an “i”! And my name starts with an “i” too, Mamas. Which means I should get some ice cream.” He paused for a moment upon seeing the two of you glance at him expectantly. “Please?”

“You’re very right, Ig,” you smiled. “And for that, we can go get ice cream. But I thought you would’ve wanted to go to the park. We brought your bike.”

“You did?” His baby-tooth grin only grew when he turned to see the lime green metal and black handlebars peeking out of the trunk. “Yes! Mama, c’mon, let’s go!”

“You need to buckle up, Igoryok, or we’re not going anywhere.” The four-year-old rushed to his car seat. The minute he was settled, he began squirming again.

“Can we still get ice cream after?”

“Sure, Iggy,” you laughed. Nat removed her right hand from the steering wheel and rested it on your thigh.

“Alright, let’s go.”

“Mama, you took the training wheels off, right?”

“Yep,” your wife grunted, lifting the bike out of the car and placing it on the pavement.

“Mom, watch me! I’m going to ride it all by myself! Today’s the day, I can feel it!” You managed to grab him by the shoulders just before he could hop on the bike.

“Not so fast, what are you forgetting, buddy?”

“Uh, a positive attitude?”

“That’s important, but I think you have plenty of that right now,” you smiled. “Try again.” Igor bit his lip as he thought about what he could possibly be missing.

“I love you?”

“I love you too, but still not it. You remember this?” He groaned when he saw the helmet in your hands.

“I don’t need it, Mom. I won’t fall, I promise!”

“I like that promise, but I still need you to promise to wear this. Okay?”

“But I don’t want to,” he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. Your wife bent down to reach Igor’s eye level.

“Igoryok, can I tell you a secret?” Igor’s tresses bounced as he turned his gaze to Nat, his eyes filled with skepticism. “Well, you know how Mama wears her helmet whenever she goes out on her bike? You wanna know why I do it?”

“Why?” he asked, his skepticism fading into intrigue.

“It helps me balance and makes me go faster. I can’t ride as well as I do without it. In fact, I think I might even fall off.”

“Really? But you’re so good, Mama!” Eyes closed, Nat shook her head.

“Only with my helmet. And only when I wear it correctly. Otherwise I’d fall right off and get hurt. So can you promise to wear your helmet correctly so that you go faster and don’t fall off?”

“Okay, Mama. Can you put it on for me though? I think you’ll do it better.”

“I’d love to, Igoryok.” You flashed Nat a grateful smile as she took the helmet from you to secure it on his head. “Alright, all set. You go get warmed up, yeah?”

“Okay, Mama, but hurry up!”

“I’ll be there in a second, rybka.” Natasha stood up and wrapped an arm around your waist. “Don’t let him see me riding the motorcycle when I’m on a mission.” You stifled a laugh, letting your head rest on her shoulder as you watched Igor waddle around on his bike, his sneakers lighting up every time they hit the pavement.

“I’ll try my best. Have I told you how good of a mother you are?”

“Yes, you have. Multiple times.” You didn’t have to look at Nat to know her cheeks were quickly becoming the same shade as her hair. “I just hope he’ll be this easy to convince when he’s not four.”

“We’ll, uh, cross that bridge when we get to it. Besides, it’s a little easier to convince him when he sees you as his hero.”

“Stop with the flattery,” the spy groaned, now extremely flustered.

“But you make it so easy. And so fun.” You squealed immediately after the last word and pulled yourself away from your wife. “Why’d you poke me?”

“Don’t act all innocent, you know exactly what you did.”

“I’m not acting innocent, I am innocent.”

“Are you now?” Natasha stalked towards you, a smirk on her lips and a mischievous glint in her eye. Before she could reach you, though, Igor pushed his way in between the two of you with his bike.

“C’mon, Mama! I warmed up!” With one last glance at you, Natasha sighed.

“Alright, let’s go, Igoryok. You just watch your back, babe. I’ll get you.”

“Ooo, Mom’s in troubleee,” Igor chanted, and with that, they were off.

“Mom! Look at me! I’m going to get it on this one, I can feel it!”

“I’m watching!” you promised despite having never taken your eyes off of Igor and Natasha the whole time. Igor flashed you a grin in response before putting his feet on the pedals. Natasha murmured something in his ear as he started pedaling. She had one hand on the handlebars and one on his back to keep him steady. The pair moved together for a few seconds until Igor began to speed up. Half-running, half-jogging, your wife finally let go of the bike with a firm push to your son’s back, and much to everyone’s delight, he kept going.

“Mom! I’m doing it! I’m really doing it!”

“Pay attention to what’s in front of you, Igoryok!” Natasha called when he began to swerve. Eyes wide, Igor managed to correct himself before he crashed into a tree. You got up from the bench and ran to meet the former assassin, but you kept your eyes on Igor the whole time.

“I guess this family has two biker babes now.”

“I guess we do. Look at him go, malyshka.” Her chest was puffed out, obviously proud of her son, his tongue poking out of his mouth slightly as he concentrated on turning around. Your eyes shot open when it seemed like he was going to fall, but he regained his balance and increased his speed twofold on his return to you. “Maybe we should try for another.”

“What?”

“Another, uh, what’d you call it? A biker babe?” Natasha barked out a laugh as you moved to slap her shoulder. “I mean, Igor’s been asking for a sibling for a while now. Maybe it’s time.” Natasha maintained her glance on your son, too nervous to meet your eyes.

“Another biker babe, huh? Or maybe another little fish?”

“Another rybka, yes,” Nat chuckled.

“Maybe it is time.” The former assassin’s shoulders relaxed as you slipped your hand into hers. “A girl this time?”

“We’ll see. It is what Igor’s been asking for, but...” A smirk played on your wife’s face as she remembered when you two first learned you’d be having a son.

“Natasha Jr.?”

“Oh god, no!” your wife laughed.

“Natalia? Natalie?” Natasha buried her face in your neck so that her lips were pressed to your shoulder. She still peeked out slightly to keep an eye on your son.

“Babe, we are not naming the baby after me.”

“What about for her middle name?” Your wife groaned as she hit your arm, but you could feel her lips curving upward.

“No.” Natasha paused, her lower lip stuck between her teeth. “What do you think about Karolina? It means ‘free man.’”

“Karolina,” you repeated. You would’ve teased her about already having a name picked out, but the constant shifting of her right foot told you this maybe wasn’t the right time. “I like it.”

With Igor quickly approaching, you ended the conversation with a peck to Nat’s cheek and bent down to greet your son. When he made it to the two of you, he immediately hopped off of the bike and ran into your open arms.

“I did it, Mom! Did you see me? I turned around too!”

“I did, Iggy! You did so, so good!” You pulled the boy onto your hip. “Don’t tell Mama, but I think you might’ve gone even faster than her.” Igor giggled, wrapping his arms around your neck.

“You think so?” he whispered.

“I know so.”

“Ahem, what are you two saying?” Nat had her hands on her hips as her foot tapped the ground, this time out of fake anger rather than nerves.

“Nothing, Mama. Did you see me? I did good, right? And my helmet helped me stay on!”

“I’m very proud of you, Igoryok. Both Mom and I are,” she murmured, tilting her head to avoid the helmet and kiss his cheek. “So now that you know your helmet is good, you have to promise us to wear it whenever you go on your bike, you got it?”

“Got it.” His locks bounced as he nodded his head. “I’m going to go again, okay, Mamas? And then later we can get ice cream?”

“You got it, bud.” You let him down, his legs wiggling before he reached the ground. The second he hit the surface, he was off.

---

You cherished every time you got to see Igor hit a milestone. You and Nat had each missed some—like you being away the day he scored his first soccer goal or Nat going on a mission during his first Halloween—but when you did, the other made sure to talk about it in so much detail you felt like you were there.

And when you were all there together… Your heart filled with pride whenever Igor did something new, but that feeling was nothing in comparison to seeing your son’s pride in himself and having Nat there next to you to experience it. Each milestone of Igor’s was so much better than you could’ve ever imagined because, with each one, you got to see your little boy growing, thriving. For each new accomplishment, you could feel the love between the three of you, practically pull it out of the air, make a cocoon out of it, and wrap yourself in it for weeks on end. Your little boy’s milestones weren’t just for himself, but it was for your family as a whole, the three of you growing closer and stronger with each step. You couldn’t wait to see what he would do next.

-----

Read Chapter 2 here

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #avengers x reader #marvel #mcu #I wrote something #alwaysmarveling #stones

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missymurphy1985 · 3 years

Text

Reminiscing

Warnings - tooth rotting fluff... And smut. Obvs. Bit of a Daddy Kink thrown in cuz why the hell not?

Taglist (message me to be added!)

@queenshelby @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @margoo0 @janelongxox @being-worthy

You sat in the large armchair, in the big bay window of your Dublin home, blanket over your legs, as you immersed yourself in the latest John Grisham novel. Your husband was out, dropping his sons off back at their mum's after spending the weekend with you. You couldn't help but pinch yourself on a regular basis. Gorgeous husband, amazing young stepsons, even Cillians ex-wife, Lisa, was someone you considered a close friend - the split had been amicable, and she'd encouraged her sons with Cillian to welcome you with open arms. You even met her for lunch a few times a month, much to Cillian's surprise. He was more concerned the two of you were comparing notes than anything else!

Hearing the front door open and close, he smiled as he re-entered the room. Leaning over to kiss your lips, he sank down onto the sofa and picked his own book up from the coffee table.

"How was Lisa?" You asked, taking a sip of your coffee.

"Good - she said she'd call you later, something about a girls night out next week."

"Sounds fun - I'm up for that." You nestled down snug in the chair and continued your chapter. You could feel his eyes looking your way, and smiled internally. You loved the way he just watched you when he thought you couldn't see.

The way your legs hung over the chair, blanket covering your lower half. He smiled, remembering the day you met at the aftershow party for his latest play in Dublin. He was hesitate to go, but the director had convinced him. You were the director, Enda Walsh's niece, and you'd gone along to support your uncle's latest stage production. You knew who Cillian was of course, not that it bothered you. Working as a stagehand part time at the theatre in your teens, you'd met plenty of famous people over the years and frankly most of them were arrogant idiots with egos the size of Jupiter. Cillian was different though. Down to earth, sweet, kind, normal. Neither of you particularly looking for love, but sometimes it happens in the most unlikely of places.

Flashback

"Cillian, this my niece y/n. Y/n, this is Cillian, the star of the show!" Enda introduced the two of you and Cillian smiled, leaning forward to embrace you softly and kiss your cheek.

"I've heard so much about you y/n, nice to put a face to the name." You couldn't help but feel butterflies looking into those blue eyes, and without you realising at the time, Cillian felt exactly the same about yours. You'd spent most of the evening from that point talking about the theatre and what you each loved about it - from the lighting and production side to the audience reactions during the live show itself. You'd seen Cillian in the show three times, you'd been mesmerised by his performance, but this was the first time you'd met him.

The music changed as the night was drawing to a close. A slower number, and the other cast members and production team all took their respective partners to the dance floor. You were both now sat pretty much alone - clearly the only single people in the room!

"Would you like to dance?" Cillian asked, sheepishly. It suddenly felt a little awkward. You looked at him surprised, but found yourself nodding as he offered you his hand and led you to the dance floor. You could feel your uncle's stare as Cillian placed one hand on your waist and took your hand with his other, both of you gently swaying to the music. He was a smooth dancer, never missing a step. No toes clashing together, and the awkwardness melted away as you looked into each others eyes. The rest of the room suddenly becoming an afterthought.

"I've really enjoyed talking to you tonight y/n."

"Me too, you're not like the other actors. You're... Normal!" You giggled lightly.

"I'm boring, you mean?" He laughed in response, you could feel his fingers caressing your waist softly as you continued to sway.

"How'd you feel about dinner one night? We can talk more about how boring we both are?" That smile again.

"You're on. He pulled you a little closer, your cheeks inches apart. He desperately wanted to kiss you there and then but with your uncle a mere few feet away he didn't dare. He knew you were 28 to his 40, and he wasn't sure how his friend would react to it.

"You two seemed to be getting on well?" Enda approached you after the party, and he couldn't help but notice the glow around you after your dance with Cillian. He'd gone to the bathroom.

"He's a nice guy Uncle E, we have a lot in common."

"You know he's 40, and has two kids, right?"

"Uncle -"

"Cillian! So you're taking my niece out for dinner are you?" He returned from the men's room and froze.

"Um.. I..."

"I'm kidding... God you're too easy to wind up!! Have fun!!" Both of you audibly sighed in relief.

"He's an ass..." You smiled as Cillian offered you his arm to link into.

"I have a car outside, I'll drop you home?" You nodded, taking his arm.

You both sat in the back, the driver being given your home address as Cillian pushed the visor up between the driver and you. Privacy. He took your hand, leaning back and kissed the back of it gently. You smiled - your first kiss, but not where you wanted it.

"He can't see us, right?" You asked. He nodded and pulled you closer to him. "So..." Leaning toward you slowly, he gently ran a thumb over your cheek and pressed his lips to yours. You returned the kiss. His mouth opening slightly to gain access to yours, your tongues soon met. It quickly became heated before Cillian pulled away.

"You wanna go home?"

"You want me to go home?"

"Nope."

"Then I'm not going home." Cillian pulled the visor down and told him you were both going back to his house instead before pulling you back against his lips.

****************************************

The memories of that first night were as clear as if it had happened only yesterday, not two years ago. It was so good that you both often got yourselves off to the thought of it when Cillian was away working. Two years on and your lives were simply idyllic.

He made his way over to you in the chair and kneeled down next to you, running a hand under your summer dress and squeezing your thigh.

"You know, I've been thinking..." He leaned closer to your ear, making you squirm. He knew the effect his voice had on you and he played on it daily.

"Dangerous..." You smirked, and he responded by tracing kisses up your back, his hand still teasing under your dress, over your now damp underwear.

"All this house.. and just the two of us.. seems a waste, don't you think?" His fingers gently moving your panties aside and slipping between your folds. Instinctively you opened your legs, granting him access.

"Hmmm....." Your hips rising slightly to meet his fingers. "Are you saying you want a dog, Cillian.."

"Funny, y/n... No.." his fingers were torturing you, caressing everywhere except where you needed him to be.

"Wanna fill me with your baby do you daddy?"

"Hmm.. call me that again..." He smiled, his erection now painfully pushing against his jeans as he dipped a finger inside you.

"Do we have a Daddy Kink, Cillian? Does making me full of your baby turn you on?" You tried to retain composure as a second finger entered you, his hand now pushing them in and out slowly.

"Fuck... Stand up." He ordered and he immediately pulled the dress over your head and your underwear down. Swiftly followed by his own clothing, before he lay you down on the sofa.

"Guess we won't be needing a condom for this then... Fuck me daddy - give me a baby..."

"Coming right up..." He kneeled back down next to you and parted your perfect legs, before sinking two fingers back inside, rubbing your clit with his thumb. It wasn't long before you were writhing under his touch, calling his name as you came hard against his hand. He moved over you, quickly turning you over so your pert behind was up in the air and you were gripping the arm of the sofa in hot anticipation. He pushed inside, feeling you for the first time without a barrier - no other contraception had suited you, so you'd stuck with condoms - and he groaned as he filled you completely.

"Jesus... God yes.. right there Daddy...." He picked up the pace at your words, thrusting into you like a man possessed.

"Fuck this is tight baby... I'm not gonna last long like this..."

"Fill me up Daddy.. make me pregnant.. give me your baby..." He couldn't hold back after that, and came hard, filling you and sending you into your second orgasm. Breathing heavy, he stayed in until he was completely spent - not daring to waste a drop.

"Lay on your back y/n... Legs in the air.." you did as he asked, confused. "Helps the whole process apparently."

"So you meant it then?" You smiled as he knelt beside you again, swirling a hand over your belly.

"What, that I want to see the love of my life's body swell with my baby inside? Damn right I meant it y/n.. nothing would make me happier than a baby with you." You were grinning now, as he leaned in to kiss you.

"Love you Cill."

"Love you more mama." The sound of him calling you that made your heart swell. You couldn't wait to hear your baby call it you too.

#cillian murphy #cillian smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x daddy kink

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tcsauaskblog · 3 years

Note

I'm not sure if you already explained this in the same story, but I'm curious, what exactly happened to Donald the day of the barn incident? (I mean what broke him mentally, I know exactly what happened, but what was the cause)

Funny enough, this was one of the few times where there wasnt a catalyst that brought the event on.

Sometimes, the bad brain juice just starts pumping for no reason, and that day, there wasn't anything to smooth out the creases in Donald's anxiety filled mind.

You could probably make the excuse that it was a bunch of little things that piled up in Donald's head, that caused him to have the meltdown he did.

The bad dream of his parents car accident the night before. The rip in his good shirt. The failed English test at school. The rainy weather. There could have been any number of reasons that added up to a mental load that Donald could no longer carry.

But sometimes, the self hate and heavy thoughts are just an arm length away, always there, without Donald having to reach far for it. And sometimes you just wake up on the wrong side of the bed, and those mean little voices that Donald tries so hard to ignore and push down every day seem a little bit more resilient than usual, and Donalds tired, so he doesn't fight them as hard as he should. So they linger, and protrude and poke and point out every flaw they can throughout the day.

Like how he isnt good enough. How he'll never be good enough. He can't live up to his parents expectations. He can't Lookout for his sister and cousins the way he should. Hes not useful or needed or wanted and hes just a big burden thats in the way.

And oh God, how hes just so, so angry, all the time. No normal person can ever be this angry right? Any what does he even have to be angry about anyway? Hes got a roof over his head, food on the table, a shirt on his back and probably the best family and friends someone like him could ever ask for so why... why does his heart race like this? Why does his hands shake, and his vision go red and his chest hurt like he'll never be able to breathe normally again?

Most the time, he can ignore it. Most the time, he can distract himself with Della's antics and Gladstone's prodding and Fethry's endless knock-knock jokes and most the time he can just let himself be buoyed along with their shenanigans and joy. Let himself be distracted from the rage thats always half cooked in the boiling pot that is his chest and ignore the mean voices in his head and forget that self hating little conga line thats on constant repeat in his heart.

But Della had stayed after school to work on a history project with a friend, and Gladstone said that he had a date to get to, and Fethry said that one of the barn cats gave birth the other day, so he wanted to hang around the kittens and take care of the mama a bit before the storm hit, and suddenly all the mean thoughts felt louder when he was left alone.

Felt louder when he actually had the time and quiet to be able to hear them.

And sometimes the rage is mind numbing, Donald often finding gaps in his memory after certain fits reach a point that his sanity can no longer account for his he just... he blanks. He blacks out and usually comes to with someone cooing soft words of reassurance to him, to relax him, to pull him back from that dark curtain blanketed over his rationality.

But sometimes... sometimes Donald is present. He's fully aware of the red blurring into his vision, of the dark cloud forming over his head. And he has to make the conscious decision that whatever it is thats about to happen, he has to be somewhere where his cousins won't easily walk in on him and somehow get caught in the crossfire.

He thinks, if he had to explain it, that it works like how a panic attack comes on. Most of the time, its just something random, something you wouldn't even think of as triggering at first, that sets it off. But once it starts, you have about a minute to compartmentalize that

1) you're having a panic attack.

2) its probably gonna be bad, so sit down in a place that you can be safe for awhile while you break down

3) if you can, let people that you trust know that you're having a panic attack and go from there

Donald can feel the anger come on like a curtain slowly falling. Hes too tired to fight it, too tired to try and ignore the pain it cause and just how right those little mean voices are sounding. So he makes the conscious effort to move, get out of the house now. Go to the empty barn, the one Fethry isn't in.

He doesn't bother shutting the barn door, he can't think that far ahead. All he manage to focus on is putting one foot in front of the other and matching a gulping breath with each step. His hands are already shaking and his eyes are going blurry with fear leaden tears by the time he reaches one of the old broken down bailers.

His heart his pounding hard enough to leave bruising when he takes an involuntary swing with his fist. His knuckles connect with something metal and sharp and red is suddenly everywhere. He sucks in a sharp inhale when an explosion of pain blooms across his hand but one of those loud voices in his head says he probably deserves it. And it sounds so convincing that Donald doesn't think twice about disagreeing before he takes another, angry swing.

And another one.

He loses track now, but he's present for all of it. Theres a rational voice somewhere thrown in the mix that he should probably stop. That this was dangerous. That his family would be worried about the state he was in if they saw him. But its drowned out. Barely audible above all the other thoughts circling in his head.

What did it matter anyway? He was already so pathetic. This wasn't new for Donald, the kid who couldn't do anything right. A couple of punches to get some small micro aggressions out were nothing in the long run. As long as Donald didn't hurt anyone, didn't hurt or scare his family, then it was fine. He could smack around the broken farm equipment for a few minutes or an hour or two, and the few scraps and cuts and bloodstained fists along the way were nothing to worry about.

He'd wait the anger out. Let it have its way with him. Let the storm pass over and deal with the consequences of his actions later. It would be fine.

If he was the only one who got hurt, then it would all be fine.

#tcs ask #teenage cousin shenanigans #tcs au #tcs #donald duck #ask #hey woops hes an angst drop sorry not sorry #man this turned out darker than i had inteded #i did not plan to write for as long as i did but sometimes #i just gotta let the moment write itself out and huh this is what came out #welp #hope you like it anon #i wrote this on my phone at 3am so sorry for grammar and spelling #also not short cut for reading sorry for spamming your dash

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hockeyisit · 3 years

Text

We're Having a Baby Pt.3

Summary: Part three of Were Having a Baby.

A.N. Sorry it took ten years hope you enjoy! If you don't I have other stories that you might!

Word Count: 4,362

Masterlist

1 2

I let out another sob as I curled up tighter into my pillow. Auston had just left to go to his first practice since Brody had been born. It had been a full week and I still hadn't been able to meet him. Dr. Montgomery had been by this morning to tell me that it was still not safe for me to be near him because we were both at high risk for infection. I broke down when she told me that I won't be able to see him. Auston had been trying to comfort me all morning but had to leave so that he could make it to his first required practice.

I tried to quiet myself down when I heard a knock on the door. I wiped my tears away as I yelled for them to come in. Not even a second later the door was pushing in and Ema was walking in with the twins.

“Hi Mama,” Kai smiled as he climbed his way onto my bed. Noah followed after him with a smile of his own.

“Papi just left for practice and he told us that we were in charge,” Noah grinned as he settled down next to me.

“Oh he did?” I questioned before glancing at Ema who gave me a smile of her own.

“Alex is with Brody, Bre and Brian went back to the house to get changed and showered,” Ema said as she took a seat on the chair next to my bed.

“We want to meet Brody,” Noah said, speaking up for his older brother and himself. I felt my eyes water. I had been pushing the twins off from meeting Brody because I wanted to be there for the first time they all met, but at this point I was starting to think that would be impossible.

“As soon as Papi’’s back you guys can meet him,” I told them quietly.

“Yay,” Kai cheered excitedly. I closed my eyes, laying my head against the pillow. I was so mentally drained that all I wanted to do was take a nap.

“I took some pictures,” Ema told me as she pulled them up on her phone. She held it out for me to see the pictures she had taken of Brody.

“He looks like he’s growing and getting stronger,” she said, trying to reassure me. I opened my eyes to take a look at her phone before looking away with a distant look in my eyes.

“Ema do you think you could take the twins home and get them changed?” I asked her. I needed a moment alone. She sent me a worried glance before nodding her head slowly.

“Of course dear. Do you want me to call anyone to come over?” she asked as she pushed herself up from the chair. I shook my head no before helping the twins off the bed one by one.

“Do we have to?” Noah whined as he turned around to face me.

“Yes Noah,” I said sternly. He let out a pout before following after his brother and Ema.

The second the door was closed I felt the empty feeling crawling up. Getting the news that I was still a risk to Brody had put major dents into Auston and my plan. Auston was going to be leaving for his first road trip tomorrow meaning that we were going to need as much help as we could get from the people around us. I felt tears start to well up in my eyes before I felt them drifting down my face. I quickly wiped them away as I heard knocking on the door.

“Amelia?” Dr. Montgomry said, peeking her head into the room.

“Yes,” I said. She glanced at me before pushing her way into the room.

“Where’s Auston?” she asked, glancing around the room.

“Practice,” I told her rudely before back tracking. “I’m sorry you shouldn’t have to deal with my attitude.”

She gave me a soft smile as she shook her head. She then pushed further into the room and started checking over my chart.

“Nonsense. I understand what a hard time this can be for you especially because Auston is away so often. I also understand what your past pregnancies have been like and it has gotten harder not easier,” she reminded me with a soft gentle smile.

“Yeah that’s for sure,” I huffed, shutting my eyes and turned to my side so I wouldn't have to talk any longer.

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

“Please tell me you have good news Doc?” I asked when Dr. Montgomery walked into my room. She gave me a short smile as she walked over to my bed with a clipboard in her hand. Auston was clutching my hand as we desperately awaited for the results.

“So your charts confirmed that you don't have an infection because we want to be so careful that Brody doesn't catch an infection. We need you to wait a few more days before you can meet him,” she said gently. She gave me a soft smile as she gave the news. I let out a soft sigh as I felt my eyes well up with tears.

“How many days?” I asked not looking away from her. Dr. Montgomery glanced down at my chart before shrugging her shoulders.

“It looks like everything has been healing really solidly so as long as you don’t do anything to pull the stitches I would say three days at most.”

I turned my face to shove it against Auston letting out a deep sigh as I relaxed into his body. This wasn’t exactly the news that I wanted to hear but I was more than happy to know that I would get to see my baby soon.

“Thank you,” Auston answered for us. Dr. Montgomery smiled before making her way out of the room to leave us alone.

“That's good,” Auston said into the quiet room.

“Sure,” I answered snappily. I felt Auston’s body tense slightly before relaxing.

“Is it not?” he asked, rubbing his hand up and down my arm. Not knowing what to say I kept my mouth shut and pushed my face further into his chest. His arms that were wrapped around me tightened.

“Alex is going to fly in,” Auston continued after another gross moment of silence.

“Can we please not,” I responded tightly.

“Amelia we need to,” Auston answered. I let out a shaky breath as I pulled away from Auston.

“I don't want to just go.” I turned around so my back was to him and my arms were raised to my face, I was curled up in a ball.

I felt tears streaming down my face as I tried to hold in my cries. I should be happy that I get to see Brody in only a few days but I thought that today could be the day I thought that I wouldn’t be a threat to my own baby but apparently I still am.

Auston let out a sigh as he stared up at the ceiling, all he wanted to do was help but all he felt was heartbreak for his wife.

I felt the bed shift before strong arms wrapped around me from behind.

“I’ve never felt this way before,” Auston whispered softly.

“What way?” I asked when he didn't continue.

“So hopeless and helpless,” he admitted in defeat. I felt my heart squeeze as I moved my hands in interlace with his.

“Babe you're doing everything you can,” I told him quietly. I knew that ever since Brody was born Auston and I had been going through a hard time, but this was the first time I felt like I let Auston down as a wife.

It was weird because I had felt similar to this way when we lost our first born Darcy. I felt like I couldn't give Auston what he had wanted. Then we were able to get over that pain and it brought us the twins. That pregnancy had been difficult but I had talked that up to the fact that it was two babies instead of just one. I expected this pregnancy to go smoother, when it didn’t I was surprised and that was my downfall.

“And you know that you are too, right baby?” Auston asked quietly.

“I’m not doing shit,” I told him angrily, his grip tightened.

“You're doing everything you can,” he pressed. “Your body needs to heal and you're taking every step to do that so you can be back with Brody.”

My body stayed tense as he talked to me but I tried to let myself relax. I wanted to be comforted by Auston. I wanted to bask in his reassurance and never leave. I wanted to feel happy but everytime I would even feel a sliver of it all of my negative energy and guilt would creep right back up.

“I’m going to take the twins to meet him today,” he said, causing my attention to snap to him.

“You are?”

“Yeah, when my mom brings them back. They’ve been begging ever since you gave the green light.”

He shrugged his shoulders causing the two of us to move slightly. I shifted so that I was facing him and able to rest my head on his chest, my legs intertwining with his.

“Please facetime me when they meet him. I want to be there,” I mumbled into his chest.

“I will. Noah has been going around all week telling everyone that he is going to meet baby Brody. He’s really excited about it and Kai keeps telling me about how wonderful it is to be a big brother and he hasn't even met the kid yet,” I let out a soft laugh as I thought about the twins running around at home with no care in the world. Ah, to be young and naive.

“Seriously I dropped them off at Mitch’s house and Noah and Kai marched straight up to him and told him all about how excited they are to meet their little brother and were asking him questions about what his childhood was like with his older brother. Some of the questions they were asking were pretty funny,” he said letting out a laugh of his own.

“Who asked all the questions?”

“Kai who else,” Auston laughed louder as I joined in with a giggle.

“He’s always liked to be as prepared as possible,” I grinned

Auston let out another laugh as he nodded his head. His hand rubbed up and down my back.

“I think we should stop bringing them over to Mitch’s as much,” Auston said after another moment of silence. I took a deep breath and looked at him.

“It's refreshing being with them. I know we talked about them not spending too much time at the hospital but I think it's important to have them spend more time with you. They miss you and I know you miss them,” Auston continued when I didn’t go to speak.

“They are too little to spend so much time here,” I told him sternly.

“Babe,” Auston mumbled, turning his head into my hair.

“Okay you're right it will probably be good if they spent a little more time with me,” I admitted bashfully. As Auston went to respond the door burst open and the twins ran in with Ema trailing behind them.

“Mama! Look what I made!” Kai shouted making his way over to the bed. Once he was able to climb up with help from Auston he showed me what he was holding.

“It was arts and crafts day so I made you and Brody cards,” he continued as he showed them to me. I felt my eyes tear up as I looked at the adorable image Kai had created of a stick family. Above the family of seven were labels, Papi, Mama, Kai, Noah, Brody, Felix, and Sunshine. I reached out and pulled Kai closer.

“Thank you so much baby, this is beautiful,” I told him as I hugged him to my body. Noah tugged on my arm causing me to turn my attention to him, where he was standing at the end of my bed.

“I drew the house,” Noah told me happily as he pointed at the card. I let out a light laugh as I pulled him onto the bed.

“Of course you did, baby. It looks just like ours,” I hugged the twins to me tightly as I took in this moment of comfort. My twins at my side with my husband wrapped around us. Of course it only took six words for that comfort to disappear.

“Can we go see Brody now?”

-----

“Alright boys, you need to put these on,” I told the twins as I held out the two tiny gowns that Dr. Montgomery had given to me. Noah and Kai continued talking as if they hadn't heard me.

“Yo Noah, Kai,” I called out louder, they both stopped their chatter right away and turned to me.

“What Papi,” Noah whined out.

“We need to put these on so you can meet Brody,” I repeated holding the gowns up. Noah’s face lit up as he reached for the gown in my right hand.

“Why do we have to wear these Papi?” Kai asked as he reached for the other one.

“Because your brother is in the NICU which is where a lot of sick babies are so we need to make sure we don’t get them sick,” I told him as I helped him pull it on.

“But we're not sick,” Kai said as he turned around to face me once I had finished tying it. Sometimes it surprised me how often Kai would question things. He always wanted to know what was going on and why things were the way they were. It reminded me of Amelia most times then not because she was almost the same way. Always trying to learn new things especially in the world.

“Papi, I need help,” Noah called out to me. I glanced at him as I reached out to help him with the tie while I continued my conversation with Kai.

“You're right bud, but Brody has a really weak immune system so we have to be extra careful.”

I stood up when I was done tying Noah's gown, I reached out for the face mask that we were required to wear and handed Kai and Noah one.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“A face mask. We have to wear it like this,” I told him as I put it on.

“It's to help protect Brody,” I finished. He nodded his head and his entire expression changed to one of determination.

“Okay.”

“Do I have it on right?” Noah asked. I nodded my head as I reached out to ruffle his hair.

“Yeah. Now listen,” I told them. I was kneeling in front of them and I reached out to grab each of their hands.

“Brody is very very little,” I started to say before being cut off by Noah. “Like Nacy’s babydoll?” “No Nancy's doll is like super tiny, like the size of my hand,” Kai huffed, shaking his head.

“He’s not that small but he had a lot of different wires hooked up to him and he’s in a clear box.”

“Why is he in a box?” Noah asked, causing me to hold my breath as I thought of something to say. God I wish Amelia was here. She always knows what to say.

“Because it helps protect him,” I settled on after a moment too long.

“It might be a bit scary in there. If at any point you want to leave tell me,” I finished giving them a stern look. They both nodded their heads.

“Are you guys ready?” I asked gently.

“Yeah!”

“Yes!”

“Alright then we need to facetime Mama and then we can go in,” I told them pulling my phone out and pulling up Amelia's contact, Wify🥺💕. It rang for a few seconds before her beautiful face appeared on the screen.

“Hey babe,” I said, giving her a soft smile.

“Hi Auston,” she responded, moving around in her bed so that she was laying on her side and holding her phone. She winced slightly from the movement before giving me a slightly forced smile. I felt my heartbreak at the sight. Just two weeks ago she had been so happy and ever since the birth she just hadn't been.

I wanted nothing more than to make her happy but it was harder than I thought. I wanted to be there for her and help through this time and heal her, but everything was impossible to manage because she still couldn't leave her hospital room. Dividing my time between Brody, the twins, Amelia and practice was one of the hardest things I had ever done.

“The twins are ready to meet Brody,” I responded, turning the camera around so that it was facing them. They both grinned as they waved to the camera.

“Hi Mama,” they called out at the same time.

“Look at you guys all ready to go,” Amelia responded with a smile on her face. Noah reached out and grabbed my phone from me so he could talk to Amelia. I opened the door and held it open for them.

“This way guys,” I told them as I led them over to where Brody was. I reached out so that I could take the phone back and pointed it at the twins.

“Alright here he is,” I said as I stood next to where Brody was resting in his box,” I pulled the chair closer so that one of the boys could climb onto it. Kai pulled himself up leaving me to pick up Noah so that he could see.

“This is your little brother,” I introduced them happily. Truthfully I had wanted to introduce him earlier but hadn’t mentioned it because I was nervous of Amelia’s reaction.

“Wow,” Noah sighed happily.

“He is small,” Kai agreed as he leaned against the glass of the box.

“Can we take him out?” Noah asked as he turned to face me.I let out a soft laugh as I nodded my head.

“Yes we can but we have to be very very careful,” I warned them both as I set Noah down on the ground.

“Why don't you both sit down and I’ll get him out.”

I put my phone up on the table so that it was angled to see all of us. Then I reached out so that I could grab Brody. I pulled him out, careful of all the wires and turned around so that I could kneel in front of the twins. It was crazy how tiny Brody really was. When he was born he was even smaller but he had grown a lot in the past week.

“Noah, Kai, this is your brother Brody,” I told them softly. Their faces lit up as they leaned forward to look at Brody.

“He looks like an alien,” Noah laughed as he reached out to touch Brody’s arm. Amelia let out a laugh causing me to let out a soft one of my own.

“He is a little alien looking isn't he?” I joked as I looked down at Brody.

“He doesn't have any hair,” Kai pointed out as he pointed to his hair.

“He’s still trying to grow it,” I told them as I ran my hand over his little head.

“What color are his eyes?” Noah asked as he leaned forward to try to get a closer look.

“We don’t know yet,” I told him. He gave me a confused look before shrugging his shoulders.

“Papi, can I hold him?” Kai asked gently, causing me to freeze for a second before responding.

“Sure buddy. Just sit still and i’ll put him in your lap,” I moved forward and went to set him in his arms carefully, “Don't move,” I told him. I kept my hands next to Kai as he held Brody.

“Auston, I’m sending your mom over so she can take pictures,” Amelia said. I nodded my head in acknowledgement as I continued to watch Kai and Brody.

“Mama,” Noah called.

“Huh? What's up honey?” she asked sweetly, her smile sincere. I adored her relationship with the twins. Sometimes I was jealous of the bond that Amelia was able to form with the twins because I was always traveling for hockey. No matter how hard I tried to make it up she was absolutely perfect and she always knew what the twins needed. I on the other hand felt like I was always needing help. I am always traveling for hockey so it was hard for me to form that bond when it shouldn't have been. Don’t get me wrong I still had a strong bond with both Noah and Kai but they were definitely Mama boys at heart.

“Brody is soft like you,” he responded, his hand caressing Brody's arm.

“Aw thats good honey,” she responded, choking back tears.

“I’m here,” my mom called out from behind me as she held up her phone.

“Hey guys give a big smile for Abuela,” I told the twins as I turned to face my mom with a smile.

“Awe so cute,” she called out as she clicked away.

“Abuela how many photos are you going to take?” Noah asked after another minute of us still smiling.

“Noah,” I warned with a stern look. He blushed as he hunched his shoulders slightly.

“Sorry Papi. Can I hold Brody now?” Noah questioned softly.

“Of course buddy, Kai let's give Noah a chance alright,” I responded as I reached out to move him from Kai to Noah's arms.

“Do you think that Brody likes hockey?” he asked looking up from Brody. Amelia and my mom let out a loud laugh causing me to roll my eyes.

“I’m sure he will buddy.”

“Maybe he’ll like baseball more,” Kai said, interrupting us.

“Or he'll want to be a writer,” Amelia called out loudly. I let out a laugh as I turned to face my phone. God I wish she was here with us.

“Maybe,” I responded with a grin. All I wanted was for us to be a happy family and I knew that very soon in the future we would be happy.

-----

“Alright guys time for bed,” I told the twins as I turned the tv off. We had gotten home from the hospital a little over thirty minutes ago and we had put on one episode of their favorite show.

“Papi I’m not tired,” Noah whined as he leaned more of his weight onto Kai.

“Well it’s bedtime anyway,” I said, standing up and walking over to the two of them to make sure they get up.

The twins got up and made their way up the stairs to the bathroom so they could brush their teeth. While they were doing that I went through my email before switching over to my text. I sent a quick text to Mitch asking him if I could drop the kids off before practice. He responded right away that it would be fine.

Letting out a deep sigh I lay down on my bed. I leave for my first road game tomorrow night and we still haven't heard good news from the doctor about when Amelia would get to see Brody. We needed good news or I had no idea what was going to happen. Pushing myself up I start to make my way toward the twins room.

As they got older we offered for them to have separate rooms because we definitely had enough but they had wanted to keep sharing.

“Have you guys brushed your teeth?” I asked as I made my way into their room. They were both in their separate race car beds under the covers.

“Yeah,” Kai answered as he cuddled his lion stuffed animal to his chest.

“Alright, good. So tomorrow night you're going to spend the night in the hospital with Mama,” I told them as I stood at the end of their beds. I had not cleared it with Amelia but I knew this is what she needed and I wasn't going to let her fight it.

“I’m going to be away for hockey for the next three days so you guys have to step up okay? Take care of Mama for me,” I asked them. They grinned as they shared a look.

“We can do it Papi!”

“Good, get some sleep,” I told them softly before pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads and then making my way out of their room to meet my dad and sisters in the living room.

“Hey they are sleeping,” I said once all their attention had turned to me. My dad nodded his head while my sisters gave me concerned glances.

“I’m going to head back to the hospital so I can talk to Amelia,” I continued when none of them went to say anything.

“Are you sure you'll have enough sleep?You have a game tomorrow,” my dad reminded me softly, causing me to shake my head as I slipped my shoes on.

“It'll have to be enough,” I mumbled leaning against the wall as I took in a deep breath. I was trying so hard to hold everything together and not let anything fall apart but it was hard.

Don’t cry in front of your family, don't cry in front of your family. I repeated in my head as I leaned against the wall with my eyes squeezed tight.

“Hey,” Alex said as she pushed herself up from the couch and made her way over to me. When she was close enough she pulled me into a quick hug.

“It's okay to cry,” Alex whispered as he rubbed my back soothingly and hearing that I allowed myself to fall apart in my sister's arms with my family surrounding me.

“Everything is wrong and I need to talk to Amelia,” I told her truthfully as I cried.

“Then I will make sure that happens,” she reassured me.

A.N: This has taken me so long for no reason and I truly apologize for that. The next update will happen sooner! I’ve just been so busy with summer plans so I’m hoping once I’m back at my apartment posting will go back to normal. I also want to apologize because this wasn't fully edited but I wanted to get it out here for everyone who's been waiting so if there are any mistakes I truly apologize. I will be trying to go back and edit it sometime in the next week so if you want to hold off on reading it I completely understand. I was watching Instant Family while I was working on this and it made me so emotional. It's such a great movie if you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it. Spoiler alert, the next chapter is going to be something for sure.😉🤔

Also Outer Banks season two is out now and I love it so so much and I'm very happy about that. The season finale to HSMTMTS was not good and I'm a bit disappointed.

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rosyfingereddawnn · 3 years

Text

That’s The Way (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 5.7k

Warning(s): Jimmy and Y/N falling in love at first sight🥺, nsfw insinuations in the beginning but nothing bad, language

Author’s notes: It’s Jimmy time, mates! I’m so sorry for making you wait so long! Slow burns can suck like that sometimes. I hope you’re enjoying the plot so far, and that it wasn’t what you expected! There’s so much more drama to come, though, so I hope you’re excited for that😂 As usual, please enjoy, happy reading, and send us messages if you have theories, comments, music recommendations for the playlist, or if you want to be added to the tag list :)

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3

------

Y/N’s train ride home from The Yardbirds’ hotel was a constant swirl of what the fucks booming in her mind: what the fuck just happened, what the fuck does this mean, what the fuck am I doing, what the fuck is Jim doing, what the fuck will this become?

Out of all the things on God’s good, green earth he could have wanted, he wanted her to kiss him. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Y/N thought when she initially heard the request. Then, when she questioned it, he escalated it to a blowjob since she thought a kiss was “too tame.” Y/N eventually did kiss Jim, as he wished. She was pretty sure that he still wanted her to kiss him after his little upgrade, and boy, was she right. ‘He called me a princess’, she remembered...what the hell was that supposed to mean?

As contradictory as it was, her mind was racing with so many thoughts, yet, at the same time, none at all. She was in overdrive, unable to think straight. Y/N forced herself to come to her senses as the train neared her stop, since her parents could not see the sheer bewilderment in her eyes and facial expression as she walked into her home. They would ask question after question, interrogating her as if she had committed a crime they had to get to the bottom of. She had to admit, reluctantly, that this was exciting. The star-studded aspect of it, the secrecy… It was a rollercoaster ride, yet Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to get off anytime soon. In the back of her mind, though, she knew this little dalliance wasn’t going to lead to anything serious.

Jim, however, currently sitting at the foot of his bed in an empty hotel room, was in a complete daze. He couldn’t comprehend that this was reality. The most beautiful girl in the whole world had just sucked him off, and then kissed him! She was completely obedient yet willing, and adorably shy, blushing every two seconds. But the kiss. It was dizzyingly soft, sweet, and passionate on her part. To Jim, this meeting of lips was perfect. Addictive. Devastatingly addictive, like a drug. He wanted more. Her lips were something else to taste and feel. He wondered if she would ever come back to him with intimate intentions. Perhaps even to spend the night, or something even more serious. By the way she so often smiled in a bright and enthusiastic way, Jim thought she just might. He had come to the conclusion, after continuously replaying what had happened just minutes ago in his head, that he was falling hopelessly in love with this girl. His Y/N.

Jim had never felt like this before.

And he didn’t know what to do about it.

~~~~~~~~

A few weeks later...

Y/N’s mum had sent her and her brother Charlie by train into London to go grocery shopping, and perhaps to visit Carnaby Street, Portobello Market, and the Oxfam charity shops to get some new clothes for themselves. Pushing the cart around the supermarket, Y/N and Charlie looked intently at the handwritten list their mum had given them.

“Alright, what do we need next?” Y/N asked, her head tilted to see the small piece of paper.

“Uh, we still have to get oatmeal, eggs, and some fruits and vegetables,” Charlie replied, mirroring Y/N’s position as he gazed down at the list in his hands, which was slowly being painted with black ink. They were making good time, all things considered.

“Let’s go to the produce section then, so we can get everything all in one go,” Y/N decided, starting to push the cart in that direction.

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Charlie’s nod served as confirmation, and the two walked on, gazes captured every-so-often by the gaggle of people passing by.

Once the two siblings reached their desired destination, Y/N began inspecting the clear clamshell containers of assorted berries as Charlie went to fetch a bag of broccoli florets and a variety of potatoes. As Y/N began placing the fruit in the cart, she heard a familiar voice calling her name.

She turned around to see a very domestic-looking Jeff Beck, pushing around a grocery cart, just like she was. It was odd to see him going about his life as though he was just an ordinary working-class man, especially being the revered guitar god he was. Y/N laughed at the sight as he came over towards her.

“Hi Jeff,” Y/N greeted, walking over to give him a hug.

“Hello darling,” he responded, tilting the girl back and forth in the hug, long arms cradling her against his chest. “How are you doing?”

Y/N looked at him with a small grin after pulling away. An exhale passes through pursed lips as she replies. “As well as I can be, I guess. How ‘bout you?”

“Can’t complain,” he smiled, which then turned a little more solemn. He reached out a hand to place on her upper arm in solace. “I’m still really sorry about Sam, love. I wish I could’ve told you, but he swore me to secrecy… and I don’t want to lose my job just yet.”

“Don’t worry about it, I completely understand. It’s not your fault.” Y/N’s chuckle chimed through the air, much like the birdsongs that seemed to fill the space around them, and she paused, “I’ve done quite a bit of soul-searching recently, and I don’t think I truly loved him...the situation was all so new and exciting, that it made me believe I did. But now, I realize I didn’t.”

“I’m glad you found the light at the end of the tunnel, kid. But that’s life, Y/N. You win some and you lose some.”

“Thank you, Jeff. Really. For being so supportive,” Y/N said in gratitude, as Jeff flashed her a toothy smile.

“Ah, don’t mention it...actually, it’s funny I ran into you because I was actually going to call you, but I… may have lost your number.” A sheepish hand ran through the short hair at the nape of his neck, and Y/N giggles at the man’s hesitancy.

“That’s okay. Here, I’ll write it down for you,” Y/N grinned as she took out a spare piece of paper and a pen from her bag, “what did you need to call me for?”

Jeff watched Y/N’s hands as she scribbled down her number. Her handwriting was neat, soft spirals decorating the ends of her letters. Playful, yet full of grace. Just like her, Jeff thought. “There’s a May Ball at Queen’s College in Oxford on the 18th, and I was wondering if you’d like to come. It’s outdoors, and it should be a nice day.”

As Y/N handed Jeff the piece of paper, he continued. “More importantly, a good friend of mine is attending, and I thought you would like to meet him. You two are pretty similar, so I think you’ll hit it off really well.”

“Do you mean that this meeting is supposed to be a sort of… romantic proposition?” Y/N tilted her head in playful confusion.

Jeff smirked. “Not necessarily. He’s friends with the rest of the guys, so it’s only fair that you meet him, since we consider you a part of our inner circle.”

Y/N grinned at his statement, shaking her head, a chuckle tumbling past her lips. “Well, for the record, Jeff, I’m retired from dating for a while,” she admitted, “the whole thing with Paul shook me up a bit, and I need time to trust again, y’know?”

“Yeah, I understand. But my friend is a nice bloke, so I don’t think you’ll have to worry too much, or put up a front. If you’re uncomfortable, of course we can—”

Charlie came running up to Y/N’s cart and placed the bags of broccoli and potatoes inside. He then stood next to Y/N to see this stranger that she was talking to. Jeff noticed the little boy who suddenly appeared next to Y/N, and smiled warmly. Pointing to the boy, and changing his voice to be a bit gentler than usual, he asked, “Who’s this, Y/N?”

“This is my little brother Charlie,” Y/N said, softly putting her hand on her brother’s back, bringing him to the forefront. Charlie widely smiled at Jeff, baring his childish grin that was missing a couple teeth. Charlie couldn't wait until they grew in, because it would “finally make him look like a real man”, as he exclaimed so often at home.

Jeff crouched down to Charlie’s level and stuck out his hand to shake Charlie’s. “Nice to meet ya, mate. I’m Jeff, a friend of your sister’s.”

Charlie’s eyes widened as he recognized who this man was. “Jeff Beck?” Charlie asked hopefully, “as in the guitar god, Jeff Beck?”

Jeff chuckled as he looked up at Y/N. “Is this the shit you’ve been feeding him?” Y/N nodded and laughed.

“There’s an ounce of truth in that statement, isn't there, Beck?”

“Yes, I’m Jeff Beck, but I’m just the lead guitarist for The Yardbirds. The guitar god title goes to Hendrix, or Scotty Moore,” Jeff explained. What a humble change of pace for Jeff, Y/N thought.

Jeff stood back up and walked with Y/N and her brother throughout the store, pushing their carts in sync and grabbing food as they went. He asked her about what she was up to musically, and she talked about how she was polishing up some Debussy and Rachmaninoff pieces, as well as fiddling around with some old Fats Domino and Everly Brothers records. Charlie and Jeff bonded over their love of cars, which made Y/N very happy.

~~~~~~~~

18th June 1966

The day of the May Ball came. Y/N was excited for the show, but she didn’t want a sour encounter with Paul to ruin her good time. Jeff had called her earlier in the week to give her instructions on what to do upon arrival, and how to access the backstage area safely.

The backstage area was a white tent with the sides covered. Inside, there were multiple long tables of different distinguished people, such as Mama Cass and Graham Nash. Alcohol and little finger foods littered the tables, served in such abundance that it seemed no one was going to see tomorrow.

Y/N walked over to where she saw her friends, and upon spotting the girl, they all waved and said their cheerful hellos. Y/N walked over to sit with them, and ended up taking a seat between Chris and Jeff, crossing her legs and folding her hands in a sophisticated manner, always the lady she was taught to be. She chose her seat at the table very carefully, sitting very far away from Paul Samwell-Smith.

As everyone chatted away, she noticed there was a tall, thin young man with short, dark wavy hair who sat down in a seat between Jeff and Keith, delicately holding a flute of champagne. He was looped back into the conversation immediately, as if he had known the band his whole life. When Y/N saw him, her heart stopped.

This new boy was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He looked like an English James Dean; with the kind of attractiveness that anyone, male or female, completely swooned over with a single glance. This stranger could get anything he wanted at the drop of a hat, with his gorgeous looks and his graceful countenance. He had a sullen, mysterious edge to him, but he also looked gentle and sweet at the same time. He had eyes as green as a forest full of lush deciduous trees, flawlessly framed by dark, bushy eyebrows and accented by long, thick eyelashes. His nose was adorable, petite as it was, and his lips were full and pouty. His smile and laugh made Y/N melt on the inside, his perfectly straight teeth illuminating his porcelain face.

For a moment, Y/N thought she was in love. She was pulled back from her daydream quickly, though, because Jeff realized that now was the perfect opportunity to introduce his two friends.

“Y/N, this is my friend Jimmy, who I was telling you about,” Jeff said, getting Y/N’s attention. Y/N grinned as she refocused on the situation.

Jimmy turned towards Jeff when he heard his name, and that’s when he saw the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, sitting right next to Jeff. Lucky bastard.

His breath hitched in his throat upon sight of this girl. She was perfect; she looked like an actual angel. The way her hair, soft-looking and slightly wispy in the light summer wind, cascaded down her shoulders; her doe-eyes seemed to twinkle in the dimming light of day, pulling him in like the strongest of currents. Her pillowy, supple lips encased a perfect smile, slightly crooked. It was, like the rest of her, completely endearing.

It was then, looking at this beautiful woman, (Y/N… Jeff had said her name, hadn't he?) that Jimmy remembers he was taken. His girlfriend, Jackie DeShannon, was waiting for him at home, but he only had eyes for the girl in front of him, and it would stay that way, it seemed.. He had to get to know her.

Jimmy snapped out of his hypnosis in the nick of time. He softly smiled at Y/N, a smile that made Y/N’s insides lurch, holding out his hand for her to shake as he turned on the charm. “Jimmy Page,” he initiated, his voice being softer and more calming than Y/N expected.

Y/N shyly smiled at him, a dark pink flush gracing her natural complexion, as she reached out to grasp his hand. “Y/N Y/L/N. It’s so nice to finally meet you. Jeff has told me about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” Jimmy chuckled.

“Yeah, I’d say so,” Y/N beamed, a feigned contemplative look on her face.

“How do you know Jeff?” Jimmy asked, turning his body towards her, now fully invested in getting to know Y/N.

“I met him...a year ago I wanna say? Is that right, Jeff? At a Yardbirds gig at the Marquee,” Y/N asked for clarification. The last thing she wanted to do is lie about Jeff to Jimmy, even if it was something as insignificant as this. In addition, she wanted to use Jeff as a temporary crutch in the conversation. Jimmy’s beauty was making her feel shyer than she already was; she felt as if she was curling into herself.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Jeff intervened, “but she didn’t just meet me, she met the whole band.”

Jeff immediately noticed that the band was leaving the table to get ready to go on stage. Jimmy and Y/N didn’t even notice the table’s departure because they were so wrapped up in each other’s presence and words. Jimmy even moved a seat over to get closer to Y/N, although he said it was an attempt to “hear her better since the room was so loud of drunken buffoons”. Y/N had giggled at that, and it had sounded like music to the man’s ears. Jimmy was completely taken with her, as easy as it was to see.

“Wait, so how do you know Jeff?” Y/N asked curiously.

“I've known him since I was… gosh… thirteen or fourteen? We bonded over the guitar and blues. Indian music, too,” Jimmy grinned, taking a sip of his warming champagne.

“You play the guitar too?” Y/N gasped. Jimmy nodded his head enthusiastically.

“Oh jeez, I should’ve known! No wonder you’re tight with the Yardbirds,” she giggled.

Jimmy’s eyes twinkled at her now-flustered demeanor. “You’re okay, Y/N,” he chuckled, placing a hand gently on her forearm. Y/N felt her entire body break out into chills.

“I’m a session musician, actually,” he began, his hand lingering on the girl’s arm, for what seemed like a millennium to Y/N. “I’d hate to simplistically explain what a session musician is to someone like you if you already know what it is.” It sounded like he was holding back a bout of embarrassed laughter. “You must be quite intelligent, especially in matters of music, if Jeff has stuck by you for all this time.”

Y/N smiled bashfully. He’s so sensitive, she thought dreamily. “Yes, I know what a session musician is,” she giggled, “I’ve been a piano player all my life, so I know a thing or two about what you blokes are talking about when it comes to music.”

Jimmy’s heart began to thump a little faster as his smile widened. “Wow! That’s brilliant. Are you classically trained then?”

“Yes, but I do know quite a bit of blues numbers.”

“Oh, so you really know what you’re talking about! I have to admit, although I am a session musician, I’m not particularly good at reading music. Maybe you could teach me a few things about sight reading and we can jam some time?”

Y/N blushed as her lips pursed together in a grin. “I would love that. We’d have so much fun!” The way that Y/N’s full lips twisted together in a smile looked so damn kissable to Jimmy.

“My girlfriend was actually supposed to teach me music theory, but we never got around to it, unfortunately,” Jimmy continued.

“Ah, okay. Well, if you give me a time, date, and place, we can definitely make it work,” Y/N beamed.

“Wonderful!” An awkward, pregnant pause filled the space, and Y/N cleared her throat, unconsciously sliding closer to Jimmy. There was almost a magnetic pull to him, and Y/N was caught up in it.

“So, what’s it like being a session musician? I’m sure you get asked that all the time,” Y/N laughed.

Jimmy smiled. “It’s quite grueling, brutal at times, but I find it fulfilling. One mistake, and you’re fired, so it’s a lot of pressure.”

“Oh wow! That must be horrible to deal with.”

“Yeah, sometimes the pressure can really settle into you, but for me it dissipates once I’m in the booth. There’s three sessions a day, five days a week, so I don’t have much time for leisure. It’s been getting really dry lately since all I’m playing is rhythm guitar. I love experimentation and stretching out on lead guitar, so constant rhythm is getting quite annoying.”

“I understand where you’re coming from then, from a creative standpoint. How long have you been a session player?”

“Four years, roughly.”

“You must be quite dedicated then!” Y/N exclaimed, “who have you played with?”

“Oh gosh,” Jimmy exhaled deeply, calloused fingers raising to land on his chin. Slight stubble shadows it, and the sharp scent of aftershave wafted towards the girl. Lost in the scent, Y/N nearly missed his reply. “The Rolling Stones, The Kinks, Donovan, The Who, Petula Clark, Jackie DeShannon, Carter Lewis and the Southerners, Neil Christian and the Crusaders, Herman’s Hermits, Marianne Faithfull… just to name a few.”

“Wow! What a resumé!” she gushed, “That’s incredible. You should be so proud, Jimmy.”

“Thank you very much, love, I appreciate it.”

Suddenly, an announcer’s booming voice cut through Jimmy and Y/N’s conversation as he introduced the Yardbirds to the stage. As the five men walked on, Jimmy stood up from his chair.

“Come with me to the wings so we can see and hear them better,” he smiled, holding out his arm for Y/N to take. Y/N agreed, standing up and linking her arm with Jimmy’s as they walked in sync to the side of the stage.

The first few numbers were played perfectly, and it was clear that the audience (and even the road crew) were enchanted by the spectacle. Y/N knew from past shows that the next song would be “Train Kept A-Rollin’,” and she knew that they always knocked that one out of the park. It was always stimulating and explosive.

Jeff and Chris began the opening riff, the low E, G, and A notes thundering out of the monitors melodically. Just as Keith sang “got a train” on his cue, he fell straight backward and hit his head off Jim’s bass drum. Jimmy and Y/N’s jaws dropped in shock as a loud gasp echoed through the air from the audience. The music abruptly stopped as the rest of the band crowded around Keith’s fallen figure to see if he was alright. Murmurings of “fucking hells” were all that were spoken from the road crew as they tried to redeem the concert.

“He was drunk,” Jimmy whispered to Y/N giddily, “he was completely out to lunch and wobbling as he walked onstage.”

“I didn’t even notice,” Y/N replied quietly with a grin, “that definitely explains all the empty bottles and glasses on the table.”

Momentarily, Keith got back up and motioned for the band to restart “Train Kept A-Rollin’” and they finished the song without another mishap. The rest of the set was completed smoothly, and everything sounded sonically incredible. Jimmy and Y/N stood close together the entire time, Jimmy sneaking glances at Y/N from time to time. He lost his breath with the way her eyes were almost aglow in the fading light, and her soft-looking lips parted in childlike wonder as she watched the live music.

The Yardbirds came off the stage, begrudgingly making their way into the backstage tent, where Jimmy and Y/N had situated themselves. No one looked happy, especially Paul. Jeff had his usual stoic look, but he was rushing around for any alcoholic beverage he could find to ease his nerves after what could have been the worst possible scenario.

Everyone took a seat at the table where they were before the show. Jimmy and Y/N sat next to each other as they took in the distressed expressions of the five other men. Jeff was slumped in his chair, next to Jimmy, taking swigs of a beer he’d found. Jim and Chris just stared at the ground, drink in hand. Paul just looked royally pissed off, to the point that it almost scared Y/N. Keith, however, was still totally out of it in his drunken stupor.

“Hey, Jim,” Jeff said quietly to Jimmy, “look, you know, I’m really sorry about the gig. I’m sure you aren’t interested in joining the band now…”

“Oh no,” Jimmy chuckled, “that was amazing! Absolutely brilliant! I loved it.”

Y/N’s interest piqued as she heard their whispers of new information. “Wait! Jimmy’s joining the band? I thought there were only supposed to be five live Yardbirds,” she whispered.

Jeff leaned over Jimmy to whisper back to Y/N. “Oh yeah! I can’t believe I didn’t tell you this already. Paul is probably going to leave the group...and I think it might be sooner than we thought, especially after the whole Keith fiasco...Jimmy is going to take his place on bass, and hopefully he’ll take on dual lead guitar at some point. Then Chris will do bass,” Jeff’s eyes diverted to Paul, who was sitting with his arms crossed and face angry, staring off into space. Jimmy and Y/N followed Jeff’s line of sight mischievously.

“Oooh! Great plan,” Y/N smiled.

A little smirk creeped across Jeff’s face as he quietly counted down, “3...2...1…”

At the very prompt “1,” Paul abruptly stood up from his chair very loudly, capturing everyone’s attention.

“You know what? I’m done,” Paul exclaimed, stepping away from the chair as he pushed it in under the table.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Jim began, standing up from his own chair, “what do you mean ‘you’re done’? What the hell does that mean?”

Paul sneered at Jim. “What do you think I mean? I mean I’m done with this bullshit. I’ve had enough of the horrid travelling, not being noticed, and this drunk-off-his-ass bastard,” he exclaimed angrily, pointing at Keith.

“You need to relax, Sam,” Chris said gently, “look at everything we’ve accomplished over the last three years. You want to give that up? You’re losing your shit over one bad performance.”

“It’s been on my mind for a long time now, Chris. I fucking hate it,” Paul continued, anxiously running his hands through his hair, “and you know what? Y/N hanging around all the time has made it worse. She’s just here to be our fucking groupie. She’s only eating off our clout to be friends with famous people.” The entire table went silent, looking around nervously.

Y/N’s eyes widened at Paul’s awful accusation. “Are you serious?” she shot back coldly, “I knew you were an asshole, but I didn’t know it was this bad.”

“Oh what, you think I don’t recognize that that’s your motive?” Paul said condescendingly.

“If you think that being absolutely obsessed with you all is my sole hobby, my motive, whatever that means... you are sadly mistaken,” Y/N responded, her eyes closing to slits and her lips pressed together in disgust.

“You’re probably sleeping with Jim or Chris now for all I know!” he shouted, arms flailing in the air.

Y/N was fuming now, standing up from her own chair facing Paul. “How dare you make me seem like I’m a whore for the Yardbirds! Even if I was sleeping with Jim or Chris, that would be none of your business because you pursued me when you were fucking married, you dipshit.”

Paul’s maddening countenance grew. “You’re just an insecure little girl who needs famous musicians around her to validate her and make feel better about herself. You’re a fucking nuisance, like a gnat that just won’t fly away even when you swat at it again and again.”

Y/N gasped, the sound drowned out by the screech of metal against tile, as Jimmy stood up from his chair. He was distraught, upset at the antics between the two bitter exes, and stepped in front of Y/N to protect her from the horrible verbal blows served by Paul Samwell-Smith. Jeff beat him by a second, as he started to berate Sam for his little episode.

“You listen up, you wanker,” Jeff started, wagging his index finger in front of Sam’s face, “you’re just being a butthurt little bitch because Y/N found out that you were married. If anyone’s the whore here, it’s you. Y/N is our friend, even Jimmy’s now, and she takes care of us and makes us happy. She’s not just some whimsy, disposable groupie like the way you used her; she’s an intelligent, sweet, pretty girl who has our best interest at heart. And we have hers. You have to be a fucking idiot not to see that.”

Paul was taken aback. “I write, produce, and play bass for this group. All you do is play lead guitar. Trust me, Beck, I’m not the idiot here.”

“Well, your goddamn head isn’t screwed on straight, then,” Jimmy added, “I’ll be taking your place, thank you very much. And you will never mistreat Y/N on my watch. Ever. I’ve known her for about an hour, and she’s already absolutely magnificent.”

Y/N’s throat felt clenched, but some of the tension was relieved when she realized how protective Jimmy was being over her. As mad as she was, butterflies filled her stomach at his warm ways.

“I’m out of here! You all suck anyway. Have a nice trip to hell, all of you,” Paul said as he walked away to the road crew to get his belongings, flipping the people at the table off.

Y/N sat back down in her chair once Paul was out of sight, slouching and holding her cheeks with her hands as she blankly stared at the edge of the table. Jimmy and the four Yardbirds dragged their chairs closer to a saddened Y/N, who was determined to fight off the tears that threatened to roll down her fury-flush cheeks.

Jeff frowned at the state of his friend, starting to softly rub her cardigan-clothed back to console her. “I’m so sorry about Sam, Y/N. His behaviour was absolutely horrendous, and I can assure you, none of the things he said about you were even close to being true.”

Keith, still a bit drunk, stood up and walked over to Y/N, planting a peck on her cheek. “We’re so glad you’re here, dear. Truly. That belligerent little asshole can suck a fat one.”

A close-lipped smile found its way on Y/N’s lips. “Thanks Keith,” she chuckled.

“I’m going to go get you a cup of water, alright love?” Chris said as he stood up to walk over towards the bar.

“Thank you so much Chris,” she called after him. Chris flashed her a kind smile as he walked away.

I guess Mum and Dad were wrong...they really do care about me, Y/N thought happily, they really, truly do.

~~~~~~~~

After the May Ball was over, and the sky was growing darker with the coming evening, Jimmy and Y/N walked around the grounds of the venue together, talking about anything and everything and sharing laughs.

The lighthearted mood took a drastic shift at one of Jimmy’s followup questions.

“So, Y/N, if you don’t mind me asking, what was the whole row between you and Sam about?”

Y/N flashed a sad smile, but it quickly faded as she took a deep exhale. “Well—”

Panicked, Jimmy took this as a cue that she didn’t want to talk about it. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I get it because of how heated it was. I’m just worried about you, is all,” he interrupted.

“No, it’s okay. Really. I trust you,” she replied with a pursed lip-smile. Jimmy returned the sentiment, internally relieved that Y/N had already seemed to take a liking to him.

“Alright, so about a year or so ago, I went to a Yardbirds gig at the Crawdaddy Club, a few months after I met the band for the first time. Paul asked me out after that show, and nobody told me he was married, so naturally, I accepted.”

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, love. What a shitty thing to do, especially to someone as wonderful as you,” Jimmy replied with a little flush, giving the girl a little rub on the small of her back.

Heat rippled throughout Y/N’s body at his touch. Regaining her composure, she sighed. “Thank you Jimmy. That means a lot. More than you know, actually.”

After a short silence, Y/N continued. “We went out for about eight months...and in retrospect, it now makes sense why I could never go over to his place. But anyway, I found out about it before the band played on Ready, Steady, Go in February. Keith, Jeff, Jim, and I were all talking at the front of the stage before rehearsals and it slipped.”

“Who ended up telling you?”

“Jim, but it was purely an accident.” Suddenly, all of the events that had happened between her and Jim guiltily flooded her mind. Now with Jimmy beginning to infiltrate her mind and cloud her vision, how was she supposed to genuinely enjoy the secrecy? Ah shit, she thought, here we go again.

“After the show, I confronted him about it,” Y/N continued, “and he was blaming me for our time together, a-and for ‘tempting’ him into asking me out just by being… me?”

“He seems like a right wanker, I can tell you that for sure,” Jimmy muttered, sliding his hand from its resting place on her back, to her shoulder, squeezing it lightly in solidarity. Y/N met his eyes then, tears filling her gaze, and Jimmy frowns. No one as lovely as her should be feeling this way. He smiles at her, and to Y/N, it is filled with comfort and appreciation. Some emotion… something akin to love, perhaps, lit a fire in her chest, and she looks away. The evening ambience does nothing to hide the traitorous blush that painted her cheeks.

“It’s getting quite dark out, love. How did you get here?” Jimmy asked, stealing another glance at a girl as she looked down at her ballet flats once more.

“I took the train, actually,” Y/N replied.

“Oh, so did I! Here, I’ll walk with you over to the station then.”

Y/N grinned at him. “That’s so kind of you, Jimmy. Thank you.”

“No problem, love. What’s your stop?” Jimmy asked as they began to make their way over to the station.

“St. Alban’s. How about you?”

“Epsom. I still live with my parents, I’m afraid,” he chuckled sheepishly.

“Oh, it’s okay!” she laughed with him, “so do I. It’s nice though, to still live with your parents… home-cooked meals and laundry and all. Plus sleeping in your own bed, and using your own bathroom, of course.”

“Those are very good points,” Jimmy agreed with a chuckle.

The two boarded the train once they got to the station, only waiting on the platform for a few minutes. They continued to talk all the way to St. Albans, where Y/N got off to walk home.

“Say you’ll see me again sometime soon, Y/N,” Jimmy half-asked, half-declared as she stood up to get off the train.

Y/N grinned at him. “I definitely will, Jimmy. It was so nice meeting you tonight...I loved getting to know you.”

“The feeling is mutual, love. Please stay safe and take care of yourself, okay?” he reached out his hand to grab Y/N’s, shaking it a little and smiling at her. Y/N nearly swooned at the gesture.

“I’ll try my best. You do the same as well. Have a good night!”

“Thank you, you too!” Jimmy waved as Y/N walked out the train’s doors. Her scent, a delicious mixture of vanilla with a hint of laundry detergent, lingered in the air as she passed by, weakening him both physically and his rational judgment.

He had a lot of thinking to do on the ride home.

————

Taglist: @blood-on-blood @reincarnated70sbaby

#that's the way #jimmy page #the yardbirds #led zeppelin #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #led zeppelin fanfic #classic rock fanfic

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moonyswolfie · 4 years

Text

Seer

Remus Lupin x Potter!reader

Warnings: panic attack, angst, mentions of death

“Harry, mama loves you. Dada loves you.”

“Lily, take Harry and go! It’s him! Go! Run! I’ll hold him off-“

“Sirius Black was – and remains to this day – Harry Potter’s godfather!”

“Not only did Black lead You-Know-Who to the Potters that night, but he also killed one of their friends, Peter Pettigrew.”

“The ones that love us never really leave us.”

“I can’t leave him!”

“Stay close to me.

Always.”

“The boy must die.”

“I don’t want your help!”

“I’m sorry, I never wanted any of you to die for me.”

“Nice one, James!”

“Avada Kedavra!”

The images were changing fast, too fast for you to piece them all together. You woke up with a scream, tears rolling down your cheeks, but you couldn’t open your eyes. You tried catching your breath, yet no intake of air seemed to be enough. When you opened your eyes, four boys were watching you with very worried expressions.

“Love, what’s wrong, what did you see?” Sirius asked, grabbing your hand gently and moving his thumb in small, soothing circles on the back of it. You couldn’t answer it though, as you were in the middle of a panic attack.

You felt Remus’ arm wrap around your waist, bringing you closer to him in an attempt to calm you. You buried your head in the crook of his neck while squeezing Sirius’ hand , trying to regulate your breathing enough to reassure your friends. You couldn’t, after all, tell them what you’ve seen. It was against the law and they knew it.

“N-nothing. I just- I’m sorry I woke you guys. Just a bad dream, s’all.” you said, voice still shaky from the visions.

“That was more than a bad dream, Y/N! You saw something, how bad was it?” James asked, losing his patience. He was worried, they all were.

You turned towards your twin brother, but you couldn’t meet his gaze.

“Deadly” you whispered.

You started having visions before you came to Hogwarts, and not all of them were bad. Back then you’d have very few and far away, but as you grew older, they came more often. You’d have them at all times of day, but most of them during the night, usually waking you (and your roommates) up.

Since you started dating Remus, you spent more nights in the boys’ dormitory and while they assured you that they weren’t bothered by you, just crazy worried, you still felt bad when you woke them in the middle of the night. Like now.

James sighed and raised from his kneeling position on the floor, kissing your forehead and going back to his bed, Sirius following quickly after he kissed the top of your head. You smiled at the gestures, they were the best brothers you could ever ask for.

The last to rise from the foot of the bed was Peter, who gave you a small smile that you didn’t return. You couldn’t, not after everything you’ve seen tonight.

It pained you, to keep quiet all these years, but you knew that sharing this knowledge would only make things worse. It was a warning that both Dumbledore and McGonagall gave you that night, when you slipped out of the boys’ dormitory and went to seek their wisdom.

“Miss Potter, what are you doing out of bed at this time of night?” McGonagall asked, rather surprised to find you knocking on her office door.

She took in your current state, the tears now dried on your cheeks, the hand you were constantly dragging through your hair and your eyes, showing your conflicted mind.

“I need your advice, Professor.” you never came to her before regarding your visions, despite her constantly assuring you that her door was always open. “I saw something, tonight, and I…I don’t know what to do. I know I can’t tell them, but how could I let it happen?”

You buried your face in your hands, shaking your head as if trying to get rid of the images that were plaguing your mind. McGonagall raised from her seat behind her desk and approached you, placing a hand gently on your shoulder.

“Come, dear, I believe this is a conversation that Professor Dumbledore should be a part of.”

You nodded and walked slowly towards the Headmaster’s office.

Yet watching it all unfold now, you couldn’t sit and do nothing.

“James, a word?” Sirius asked, dragging your brother out of the room.

You closed your eyes and took in a long breath of air, exhaling softly a moment later. You couldn’t. you shouldn’t. And yet…

You sprinted down the hall and pushed open the door of the small bedroom, interrupting James and Sirius mid-conversation. They both looked at you, confused expressions gracing their features.

“Don’t. Please, don’t make Peter the secret keeper.” you uttered between gulps of air.

James’ expression turned from confused to surprised, then slightly annoyed.

“Look, Y/N, I don’t know how you found out about this, but the decision has been made. I know you don’t like Wormtail all that much, but he is our friend.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, James! He isn’t your friend and he cannot be trusted!” you yelled.

“What on earth are you talking about?” Sirius inquired.

“I...I can’t talk about it, you just have to trust me on this, please.” you tried again, to which your brother only rolled his eyes.

“It’s safer that way, Y/N. Voldemort expects us to make Sirius the secret keeper, which will cause the best distraction. He’ll never know who the real secret keeper is. It’s a sound plan, sister.”

“Then make me the secret keeper. Keep up your charade, tell everyone what you will, but choose me. You know I can be trusted.” you begged.

“No, we can’t risk your life like that.” Sirius said and his tone suggested the decision was final.

You had only one option left, consequences be damned.

“I had a vision, James. I saw it happening, I saw you dead, that’s how I know about your stupid plan.” you said, looking him straight in the eye.

James sighed and that’s when you knew. He didn’t believe you.

“Visions can change, you said so yourself.”

“Yes, if the person in cause changes their mind!” you retorted.

“Y/N, Sirius and I have a lot to discuss. Leave us, please.”

You left the room and closed the door behind you, almost knocking into your boyfriend on your way back to the living room. He took your hand and led you to the chamber the two of you shared.

“I take it he didn’t listen?” Remus asked, pulling you to his chest when he saw the tears streaming down your cheeks.

You shook your head and held onto him tight.

“Tell me what you saw, darling.” he whispered, kissing the crown of your head.

And you did. Remus listened to your every word and tried his best to fight back his tears when you told him of your friends’ deaths.

“He doesn’t believe me, Remus. He thinks the visions change all the time but they don’t.”

“I’ll talk to him later, try to convince him to change his mind.”

You nodded, but you knew he won’t succeed. Once your brother made up his mind, there was no changing it.

You nearly fainted when you heard the news. Dumbledore had sent an owl to yours and Remus’ house, bearing the news.

They survived. James, Lily and Harry, they were all alive and well.

James trusted you. He believed you. You didn’t know how Remus convinced him, but what you knew was that your brother was alive, that he and Lily would get to raise their beautiful son together and that Harry will grow up surrounded by love.

You were clutching the letter to your chest, stained with tears of relief, while your other hand was making soothing circles over your baby bump, when your husband joined you on the living room couch.

“My love, what’s wrong? Is it the baby?” Remus asked, worry written all over his face. As your due date was nearing, the baby grew more restless, which worried him immensely.

“No, the baby’s fine, my dear. Here, Dumbledore sent news.” you handed him the letter.

You saw the relief taking over his handsome features as he read, and let out a small laugh. Then, he seemed to remember something.

“But what about the vision?”

“They can change only if the person changes their mind. I don’t know how you convinced James to reconsider, but thank you, Remus.”

“I didn’t, Y/N. He told me there was no going back when I spoke to him, that it was all done.”

A screech broke the sudden silence, as an owl entered through the kitchen window and delivered a letter into your lap. You opened up the envelope, smiling at the sight of James’ messy handwriting.

I’m sorry I had to keep you in the dark, sister,

but I had too much to lose to risk sharing my plan.

I’ve always believed in you, my favourite fortune teller.

Your loving brother, James

You smiled at the nickname he used to call you when you were kids and your visions were still so new. It always bothered you back then, but you were happier than ever reading it now.

“I say we should pay them a visit soon, what do you think?” Remus asked, having read the small note over your shoulder.

“It’s settled then.” you agreed, leaning into him and placing a kiss to his lips.

#harry potter #fanfic #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #potter!reader #marauders #marauders era #marauders x reader #sirius black #james potter #remus x reader #angst #fluff

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

History In the Making PT. 2

Jason Todd x M!Reader

Word Count: 1.6K Warnings: None

Author's Note: It's about the set-up! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Jason leaned up against the brick wall of the bar, half nervous and ready to bolt, the other half bored. What a unique combination of feelings. He thought to himself, wondering how he let the man from last night talk him into a date the night after. Roy certainly hadn’t been a ‘good ole country boy’, but Jason knew from some stupid songs that country split across the U.S.

What bothered him even more was that for some reason, the man’s demeanor and dress didn’t bother him. Which was odd because if Jason had saw anyone else in faded denim jeans, a button-down work shirt, and a pair of steel toed work boots, he’d have laughed hysterically.

Low and behold though, he was enamored by (Y/N) the second he stepped between Jason at the bar, even more so when he’d gently, but firmly pushed him back down into his seat and asked Jason to let him handle the disturbance. Not many people would’ve done that. Most in fact, would have turned the other cheek and let it happen, but not him.

“Jason.”

He looked up from his phone and smiled at (Y/N) coming towards him. “Hey (Y/N). For a moment, I was worried you weren’t gonna show.”

(Y/N) shook his head. “Sorry, my schedule this mornin’ got messed up and I’ve been runnin’ a little late.” He offered Jason an apologetic look. “I hope my tardiness hasn’t put you off.”

Jason chuckled. “Man, you’ve gotta give the gentle-manliness a rest sometime.”

“So, givin’ this to you isn’t wanted right now?” he questioned, holding up a single red rose and Jason’s eyes widened. “Too early for romantic gestures?”

He took the flower and smelled it, feeling a flush creep up his cheeks. “No, it’s…I forgot that guys are typically the ones who give flowers.” He couldn’t help but smile. “It’s different to be on the receiving end.” The second the words left his mouth, (Y/N) cocked a brow and he spluttered, “T-that’s not what I meant! I just meant that I’ve never been given flowers before and—I’m going to stop digging myself in deeper.” he muttered and (Y/N) chuckled lowly.

“No, please keep diggin’. It’s amusing.”

Jason glared at him though it wasn’t as fierce as it could’ve been. “Jerk.”

(Y/N) winked and shoved his hands in the pockets of his corduroy jacket. “Wanna get going? Isaia closes the store around nine-thirty.”

“Yeah, lead the way.” Jason replied, keeping in step with him as they turned the corner of the end of the street.

“Now, I do have to warn you that this place looks like a hole in the wall, but it’s the greatest pizza you’ll ever eat in your life.”

“Is it made by an authentic Italian man whose grandfather came to the Americas in the twenties and has been running this shop since then?”

“Well aren’t you right on the money,” he teased and nodded. “Tony’s family came to New Jersey in nineteen-twenty-one and opened the shop a few years later. They make pizza, pasta, anything and everything Italian cuisine.” He groaned. “It’s the greatest food you’ll ever eat if you’re never able to get to Italy.”

(Y/N) made a turn down a particularly dark alley and Jason couldn’t help but feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up when he followed, watching as he stopped at a door on the side of the building and pulled it open.

Immediately, he was hit by the mouthwatering scent of fresh garlic and bread and his stomach rumbled as he inhaled deeply. “Holy crap.” He breathed and (Y/N)’s face broke in a smile.

“Told you.” He gestured to the building. “After you.”

Jason stepped through the doors and was met by an older woman who looked him up and down with a curious expression until he felt (Y/N) behind him peering over his shoulder, and then she smiled. “Mio caro!” she greeted, pulling him into a hug, and Jason almost laughed at how (Y/N) practically towered over her. “It’s so good to see you!”

He laughed. “It’s good to see you as well, Signora Matteo. How’ve you been?”

Pulling away, she waved. “Isaia has driving me up the wall!”

“So, no different than normal?” he teased, shying away when she whacked his stomach.

“Asino,” she hissed, then glanced at Jason. “Who is this (Y/N)? Is he your amore?”

(Y/N) sighed. “You gonna ask that for every guy I bring here?”

She scowled. “You never bring anyone here! How am I supposed to know!” whacking him, she said, “Go! Siediti al tuo tavolo!”

He obeyed, though he was still chuckling when he sat down, Jason taking the seat across from him. “You seem to get along with them well,” he remarked and (Y/N) nodded.

“When I first got up here in Gotham, I didn’t really know anybody. Isaia and Gabriella were kind enough to let me hang around and fix up any problems they had with machines here.”

“You’re a mechanic?” Jason asked.

“Handyman is probably the better term,” he replied. “I went to an applied technology school right outta high school and learned mechanical maintenance electrical and instrumentation.” (Y/N) cleared his throat. “My papa used to run a garage when I was a kid too, so I helped out ‘round there.”

Jason hummed. “So, you’re just an all-round knower of machines, huh?”

He smiled. “I try to pick up skills where I can. Helps with the resume.” Nodding at him, he inquired, “What do you do for a living?”

“I travel a lot. Freelancing work.”

(Y/N) could understand that Jason was being cagey with his answer, but he let it go, not wanting to dig where he wouldn’t get. “Do you work for a secular company or multiple?”

He nodded. “Both. Though I work for Wayne Enterprises a lot.”

“No kidding!” he exclaimed. “I ran into Mister Wayne this morning!”

Jason blinked. He hadn’t been expecting his father to run into (Y/N) anytime soon. Not in this big city. “Really now? What happened?”

“Oh, he had some car trouble. A bad spark plug and a ruined belt.” He handed Jason the menu. “Gave him an address for an older man I worked for a year or so ago that’ll fix him up in no time.” He smiled. “Mister Wayne was a wonderful man to meet. He was absolutely polite the entire time and even tipped me for taking time to look at his car.”

“How much?” Jason knew Bruce probably gave him at least two hundred.

“Two hundred dollars.” He shook his head. “I tried to give him the money back, but he just wouldn’t hear it and insisted I keep it. Even asked me for one of my business cards.”

“You’ve got business cards?”

(Y/N) shot him a look. “You don’t?”

“Touché,” Jason retorted with a grin and Gabriella came back over with two wine glasses and a bottle of Pinot Grigio.

She poured the glasses half full and said, “I put in your order already. It’ll be ready soon.” And she was off again, leaving (Y/N) amused and Jason rather confused.

“Does she do that often?”

“What? Bring your wine and tell you she ordered for you?” (Y/N) smirked. “Only for the customers she likes.” He grabbed the wine stem and raised it to his nose, inhaling deeply. “If I had to take a guess, she probably put in an order for margherita pizza. Pinot Grigio pairs well with that pizza.”

“You know wine?” Jason raised the wine glass to his nose and smelled before tasting it. “It’s dry. But good.”

“It’s surprising that a southern man knows wine, but how do you know wine, Jason?”

He chuckled setting the glass down. “My dad is…influential with big cities. I grew up attending galas.”

“Are you and him close?”

“Not…as much as we probably could be.”

(Y/N) nodded with a knowing look in his eyes. “I know what you mean.”

“Telling me the fruity southern man has daddy issues?” Jason quipped.

He barked a laugh. “Oh, the biggest.” He shot Jason a glance. “Something tells me you got ‘em too.”

“Ah, we all wish our relationships with our fathers could be perfect, huh?”

“Cheers,” (Y/N) agreed, raising his wine glass to clink it with Jason’s.

***

“And I told Tucker that he could either get out and push or we’d be stuck in the mud until his daddy came with a chain and his truck.” Jason buried his face in his hands and laughed, bending over the railing and (Y/N) watched him with a grin of his own on his lips. “Ah, you should’ve seen the two of us when we got back to his mama’s house. Covered head to toe in mud and chiggers.” He shook his head. “I took three showers that night.”

Jason turned his head and looked at him, tears in his eyes. “How many ticks did you get?”

(Y/N) groaned, pressing his forehead into Jason’s shoulder. “So many in so many unsavory places.” The two of them fell back into laughter, practically falling into each other as they did.

A few moments later, they were staring out at the water, the moon high in the sky. “I had fun tonight, Jason.” He said quietly. “A lot of fun.” Taking a leap of faith, he reached over and took Jason’s hand. “I’d like to do it again…if you wanna.”

Jason gazed at their hands, silent for some time, then he nodded. “…Yeah…I’d like to do this again too.” He glanced at (Y/N). “Say…next Friday morning? Brunch?”

(Y/N) smiled. “That sounds wonderful.”

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one-piece-dumpster-fire · 4 years

Note

Hi can i have a hcs of being the older sister of vivi killer drake and katakuri who is nice and compasionate please-Sarah

I'm sorry this took... embarrassingly long to complete. And I'm not gonna lie, it was rather difficult for me to come up with good headcanons for this request. I'm really not proud of this one, but... hopefully you'll like it at least a bit, dear ^^'

Having a kind older sister headcanon

Nefeltari Vivi

Vivi absolutely adores and looks up to you!

secretly, she wants to grow up to be just as much of an amazing and kind person as you are

however she can also be a bit of a brat and a little rebel from time to time; especially in her younger years she would often switch between wanting to be with you and wanting to be left alone in a matter of seconds

sometimes, when she's in an especially mischievious mood, she even goes as far as to hide from you on the palace grounds all day long

seeing how your mother died when you and your little sister were still pretty young, your dad Cobra was initially the one who tried to take on both parental roles and raise you to the best of his abilities; but since he's also the King of Alabasta and has a lot of responsibilities to take care of, it didn't quite work out in the long run. Thus you jumped in for him, taking on both a sisterly as well as a motherly role for Vivi as she was growing up

still, Cobra is extremely protective of his two girls and therefore you're rarely allowed to leave his sight or the palace. But that ain't stopping you from occasionally sneaking out in secret, and once Vivi is old enough to accompany you, you bring her along. Those little 'trips' later on fueled her desire to sneak out on her own and make friends with the other children in Alabasta

every evening, when it's time for bed, she sits down with you and proudly tells you about the things she did that day while you brush through her hair

although she's eager to share most of her hobbies and adventures with you, the one thing that Vivi is extremely cautious about is letting you meet her friends. Grown people aren't allowed in their club, so when she finally decides to introduce you to Koza and the rest, you have to promise not to tell anyone

you're the one person Vivi can confide in 100% and she knows that her secrets are always safe with you- even from Papa Cobra

so it's only natural that you were also the first person she told about her plans to infiltrate Baroque Works

and while Vivi is away on her secret mission, you make sure to help your little sis from the inside by delivering informations about the current situation in Alabasta. All while keeping up the facade of the good older princess who believes that Sir Crocodile is a hero, of course

when she finally comes back home with Luffy and the Strawhats, you do everything in your power to assist them in their plan to get the country back from the Warlord. With an all-out civil war right around the corner Vivi especially needs you as emotional support and counts on your wisdom to help with her decisions. You're her big sister after all, and if there's anyone she needs to have by her side while she's facing all of the coming chaos, it's you.

Killer

you know those rebellious teenagers that are always like "Moooom, don't tell me what to do!!!!"? That's Killer, but in little brother form

he definitely doesn't like being coddled or looked after. Yes, he gets into fights and danger regularly, but it's normal. He doesn't need you to chew him out for it every time

despite that, he really really does love you though. Hence why he's occasionaly pushing you away- as pirate he's living a dangerous life, and he doesn't want his nice and sweet big sister to get caught up in it

his way of showing apprecation for you has always been a bit unusual, even back when he was young. One time, when you were still living together, Killer tried to surprise you by cooking your favorite food for your birthday; but he ended up setting your house on fire instead, forcing you to move again

when you were still children you would occasionally babysit your little brother as well as his best bud Kid, and things often got out of control when you three were together

especially the little redhead seemed to be in a rather provocative mood whenever you were around. Sometimes Kid would declare that you'll be his woman one day, which always ticked off Killer and caused him to start fights with his friend

even to this day, Killer still tries to keep you away from Kid. He adores his friend and captain, but also really doesn't want him to try and get flirty with you... again. That's just all kinds of wrong

it's not just Kid though, no one else in the crew is allowed to comment on your looks/attricteveness/whatever either, or they'll have to deal with a pretty mad Killer

nowadays he's a lot more relaxed when it comes to you and your presence around the crew though. From time to time he still berates or tells you that you are too friendly for your own good, but deep down he's appreciative of your caring nature and how you always treated him with kindness

one thing that never really changed is Killer's desire to cook by your side and show off all the things he learned within the past few years

you're the only person he feels the need to impress and who's criticism actually matters to him even if he accepts it with a scoff

X Drake

although he's the younger sibling, Drake is actually the protective one. Because of your kind nature he's always afraid that someone might try to use you

he's pretty clingy as a kid, and it honestly doesn't change much as he's getting older

you were the one that took care of him after your father died, so naturally he's always been looking at you for guidance and comfort from a young age on

as a result you're the only person that can claim to know Drake 100%. He can't keep secrets from you either, sometimes it's even as if you know him better than he does

although he knows he can always come to you with his problems and secrets, Drake is pretty hesitant to do so. Scared that you might get dragged into his dangerous affairs, he heavy-hearted decides that it's for the best to keep you in the dark about his life as double-agent

although he feels a bit guilty to keep you in the dark about his affiliations, it does have some perks as well. Thanks to his job he was able to secure you a nice house in a calm (and most importantly, protected) living area that's close to his marine base

you could say it's his way of 'repaying' you for taking care of him for so long. Drake loves you and can't help but feel as if he's in your debt

as long as his job allows it he makes sure to visits you at least once or twice a month to make sure that you're doing good

during those visits he often thinks back to what your life used to be like when you were kids, and the mood quickly turns sober as he remembers his abusive father. That's usually when it's time for you to step in and change the topic

just ask Drake about his crushes or if there is a woman he's got his eyes on and he'll turn all sorts of red again lol

huh, maybe there is someone he's interested in. But he can't tell you because you'd probably just offer to help him win her over, which is bound to end in disaster...

instead of talking about his preferences when it comes to women he'd rather tell you about the new limited edition Germa action figure he managed to get his hands on! And boom- just like that, your little bro is in a better mood again

can you imagine how excited Drake would be to tell you about his encounter with Stealth Black tho...? You'd probably have to calm him down during the call so he won't hyperventilate lmao

Charlotte Katakuri

much like Killer, Katakuri also doesn't like being coddled

back when you were young and still sailing around with the family, it was usually your and Perospero's unofficial job to look after the younger siblings while Big Mom was doing... y'know, pirate stuff

most of the kids were doing fine under your watch, but Katakuri always had a strong tendency to get in trouble. You would often scold him for starting fights with others and tell him that he shouldn't pay any mind to whatever insults they throw at him; unfortunately though he hardly ever listened

and after the incident with Brûlée, he completely isolated himself from everyone- including you. He also felt a tinge of guilt for not listening to your advice, since it might have kept his sister from getting hurt

it takes years, almost decades until Katakuri feels ready to open up again- and if it wasn't for how compassionate you were and that you never judged or pressured him, it might have taken even longer

eventually he tries to mend your relationship by inviting you to one of his meriendas, where you finally get the chance to talk about everything

from there on out you two slowly get reacquainted with one another and become friends again

and this time, he actually listens to your advice and takes it to heart

Katakuri still keeps up the appearance of the strong and cold older brother around the other siblings, but when he's with you he's more relaxed and sometimes even okay with talking about his pent-up frustration

whenever he returns from a mission he checks in with Mama first (that's obligatory) and then gets some donuts, pays you a visit to see how you've been holding up during the days he was gone, and explains what he's been up to

he's always looking out for you and whenever Mama suggests that it's time for you to marry some crazy psycho for the sake of an alliance, Katakuri would do everything in his powers to help you convince her that it was a bad idea

frankly Katakuri respects you more than his own mother and is very glad to have someone who doesn't put him on a pedestral or holds him to some insanely high standards. It makes him feel a bit more... human.

#one piece #nefeltari vivi #one piece killer #x drake #charlotte katakuri #one piece x reader #one piece headcanon #one piece imagine #op headcanon

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electrictoes · 3 years

Text

Time Flies Over Us

For @dailysvu’s Sonny Carisi Week

Day 2: Off Duty

Characters: Sonny Carisi, Amanda Rollins, Fin Tutuola, Olivia Benson, Dominick Carisi Sr, Gina Carisi, Bella Carisi, Mama Carisi, Jesse Rollins, Billie Rollins

Relationship: Amanda Rollins / Sonny Carisi

Warnings: Gun violence

Five time Sonny Carisi's off duty time gets interrupted + one time it doesn't.

Read on AO3

Sonny held his newest niece above his head, grinning as she laughed gleefully - he wasn’t quite hiding in the kitchen with his father, but he was definitely avoiding the living room where his mother and sisters were fretting over last minute wedding preparations. Sonny could have been relaxing in his own apartment, getting an early night ahead of tomorrow morning’s chaos, but his father had needed the moral support so he’d packed an overnight bag, collected his wedding suit on the drive over, and had plucked baby Grace from her mother’s arms as soon as he walked through the door.

He’d put up with thirty minutes of his sisters squabbling over how exactly Bella’s hair should be styled in the morning, before his dad had rescued him with a quick, “Hey son, give me a hand with something?”

The something turned out to be emptying the bottles of beer he had tucked away at the back of the fridge behind boxes, trays and tupperware dishes filled with food for tomorrow’s festivities - according to his dad, his mom had been cooking non-stop for almost the whole week. They’d been left to their own devices, sipping beer and passing the time with quiet conversation.

“It’ll all be over soon enough,” his dad was saying.

“Real positive, Pops,”

“You know what I mean,” his father gestured to the door, “The fuss, the speeches. Your mother’s worryin’.”

“Ma’s never gonna stop worryin’ about Bella, Dad,” Sonny told him.

“It’s you she worries about the most, son,” he said, watching Sonny carefully as he rested Grace against his chest, her head dropping onto his shoulder sleepily, “You gotta get yourself a good woman.”

“Don’t start that again-”

They were interrupted by Gina, a frown on her face as she held out his cell phone like she was delivering a bomb, “It keeps ringin’, Sonny,” she said, exchanging his phone for Grace.

Sonny glanced down at the screen - five missed calls, two from Benson, two from Dodds, one from Rollins. He gave his father a sheepish look as he returned Rollins’ call - better than getting it in the ear from his boss about not picking up, “Hey,” he said when she answered, and she sighed down the phone.

“I know you’re with your family,” she started.

“What is it?”

“It’s bad, Carisi. Four kids,” Rollins said, the stress of the case already evident in her voice, “I told Liv you’re busy this weekend, but she wanted me to try you anyway.”

“Where do I need to be?” he asked, already grabbing his jacket and keys.

“Meet me at Bellevue?”

“Okay, okay. Tell the Lieutenant I’ll be there as soon as I can. But Rollins-”

“I already told her you’re out tomorrow,” she said, and he nodded gratefully into the phone, though she couldn’t see him.

His dad frowned at him when he hung up the phone, “Duty calls?”

“Yeah, I- I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“What? Sonny, you can’t leave!” Bella said, her arms curled around herself in the doorway.

“I’ll be back in plenty of time for the wedding,” he promised, pressing a kiss to the side of her head as he passed her, shuffling down the hallway to make it out of the house and on the road before his mother caught him sneaking off.

It was Sunday afternoon, the first Sunday afternoon he’d had free in a long time, and Sonny just had a few errands to run before he could get back to his apartment, enjoy some down time for a change.

His last stop at a bodega just down the block from his apartment building was meant to be a brief one - just grab a couple of things he’d forgotten at the grocery store then head straight home. He was at the back of the store when he heard the shout - the demand for money, a scream from a woman near the cash register. He shuffled backwards, already reaching for his badge as he craned his neck down an aisle to get a better view.

Standing in front of the counter was a kid - no older than than fifteen. He had a gun pointed towards the cashier; it was shaking in his hand. He didn’t have a mask or even a ball cap covering his face - he was in plain sight of witnesses and CCTV cameras alike. This was no seasoned criminal.

But he still had a gun in his hand, and inexperienced kids with guns could pull the trigger like a startled animal at any moment. Sonny quietly edged down the aisle, making eye contact with the cashier as he lifted his badge.

The boy jabbed his arm forward, bringing the gun slightly closer to the cashier, “Hurry up. And don’t press no panic button.”

Sonny continued to move quietly forward as the cashier emptied the register, he'd almost reached the end of the aisle before the boy turned around, his eyes widening at Sonny’s proximity, at the badge in his hand. He turned fully, so that the gun was now trained on Sonny. Behind him Sonny saw the cashier reaching under the counter, and he sent up a silent prayer of hope that there was a panic button there, that back up was coming. He held his hands up as non-threateningly as possible as he stepped closer to the boy.

“I’m Detective Carisi,” he said, “NYPD. You wanna put the gun down?”

“I’ll shoot you,” the boy said, his finger moving to rest on the trigger.

Sonny was now inches away from him, an arm extended out, a hand reaching for the weapon.

The boy pressed his finger to the trigger.

It was a miracle that he missed, given how close Sonny was, even with his hand shaking there were plenty of places he could have hit Sonny, but the bullet soared over his shoulder, not even grazing him before it embedded itself in a shelving unit. The recoil startled the kid - he’d clearly never fired a gun before, and he looked around himself in panic. Sonny closed the gap between them, curling his fingers around the top of the gun and wrenching it from the boy’s hands.

The kid was shaking even more now, terror in his eyes as Sonny read him his rights.

A patrol unit arrived barely a minute later, taking control of the scene, but the peace of his Sunday afternoon had already been shattered; adrenaline coursing through him even as he gave his statement and his badge number to the patrol unit.

Sonny had insisted he didn’t want a fuss - was happy to go for a drink with the squad, dinner at his mother’s house. Just another birthday, just another reminder he was getting older, his joints a little achier, his hair a little greyer. But he should’ve known giving Amanda Bella’s number would one day come back to haunt him, because his drinks with the squad had turned into a party that mixed his two worlds, and threw half of his former law school classmates into the pot as well.

He would admit he was enjoying it, though - having almost everyone that mattered the most to him in one room; drinking, laughing, enjoying each other’s company whilst making jokes at his expense.

Although someone seemed to be buying him a drink every thirty seconds, he’d barely managed to actually drink anything, which meant he was still relatively sober when the call came in. He was leaning up against the bar, Amanda at his side just a little closer than she needed to be - Gina standing opposite them with her latest boyfriend talking their ears of about investment banking, when Liv came over to them, a solemn look on her face.

“Sorry to cut this short,” she said, “But we’ve got a case.”

Sonny pushed off from the bar with a sigh, turning to pass Amanda her coat where it was lying beside his.

“Happy Birthday to you,” Amanda said with a wry smile as they shrugged on their coats.

“Told you I didn’t want a fuss,” he countered. He made his way around the bar as quickly as he could, biding goodbye to his friends and family, ignoring the choruses that he couldn’t leave his own party early.

Amanda held back as Fin and Liv left the bar, waiting for him and walking in step with him the few blocks back to the precinct. They were almost there when she stopped him with a hand on his arm, “Hey Carisi.”

“Yeah?”

“Happy Birthday,” she smiled at him and he returned it gratefully. She nodded once before stepping ahead of him, holding the precinct door open for him when they got there; fully disengaged from party mode and ready to throw themselves into whatever darkness Manhattan was bringing their way tonight.

It was their first official date - after Fin’s not-wedding and the kiss he had played on repeat in his head for the last two weeks they had spent as much time together as they possibly could - he now knew the feel of Amanda’s lips on his like kissing her was his sole purpose in life, he knew the touch of her hands, the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled sleepily over at him in the mornings, and it was all beyond what he had let himself imagine - but that didn’t stop him from wanting to make a fuss of her - to take her out for dinner and spoil her a bit - to spend an evening just the two of them, in a way their demanding jobs and her two rambunctious children didn’t often allow for. Sienna hadn’t blinked when they’d asked if she’d stay late on Thursday night - something in her face told him she was happy for them, even if she didn’t say it aloud.

He’d chosen Thursday because trying to schedule anything important at the weekend seemed too much like tempting fate, and so there they were, a quiet evening in a small, family run restaurant that he loved - their fingers intertwined on the table, him trying not to say anything too stupid, given how mesmerised he was by her tonight.

And then her cell phone rang; she released his hand to pull it out of her bag - concerned it might be about the girls, but Sonny’s heart sank as his own phone began to ring barely a second later - Olivia Benson coming up on his caller ID. So much for a night off.

“Hi Liv,” he said, “Everythin’ okay?”

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Liv said, and he wanted to tell her that yes, she was, but that wasn’t how these things worked, so he made a non-committal noise and listened as she told him they needed him at the precinct - that it wasn’t a case that couldn't wait until morning. He could tell from the look on Amanda’s face that she was getting a similar phone call.

They arrived at the precinct ten minutes apart - or rather, Sonny lurked outside for ten minutes after Amanda walked inside - they’d yet to disclose and their first proper date being interrupted was more than enough frustration for one night. When he walked into the bullpen everyone was gathered together, Liv updating them all on the urgent case they’d been called in for - a missing fourteen year old, a suspect in holding who needed a deal to loosen his tongue, and the mayor’s office breathing down their necks because the missing girl was the deputy mayor’s niece.

Amanda had kicked off the heels she’d been wearing earlier - tucked them under her desk and slipped on the old sneakers she kept in her locker - she hadn’t had time to change of out her red dress, though, and from the looks Kat was throwing her way, it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

He got a similar look himself when he approached them, a raised eyebrow as Kat’s gaze moved over the suit he was wearing late on a Thursday evening. Not the same suit he’d been wearing at work earlier that day, “You on a date too, Carisi?” she asked.

“Huh?” Sonny feigned ignorance, his own gaze trailing to Amanda, trying to pretend he hadn’t noticed how beautiful she looked, how much effort she’d gone to - for him.

Liv was impatient; under pressure and not willing to entertain any charades, “Kat,” she said firmly, “Focus.”

Hours later, when the girl and been found and Kat and Fin were escorting the perp to holding, Sonny leaned against Amanda’s desk, ready to head home for a few hours sleep before they had to come back here.

“You can head off, Amanda,” Liv said, walking towards them, her own bag under her arm. “Sorry to have crashed your date.”

“It’s fine,” Amanda said, not meeting Liv’s eye, “I’ll get a rain check.”

Liv looked from Amanda to Sonny and back again, “Well, maybe the two of you can salvage some of the night,” she said, turning away from them, smiling to herself.

Sonny could feel the insistent buzz of his phone in the pocket of his suit jacket, but he was resolutely ignoring it; cursing himself for not having put it on airplane mode before the show started, but knowing he couldn’t pull it out now. Someone wanted to get hold of him really badly - but whoever it was would just have to wait.

He’d taken a last minute half-day to be able to sneak into the auditorium just as the show was about to start, finding Amanda on the aisle and lifting Billie into his lap so that he could claim her seat. Amanda turned to him, a surprised smile on her face, “You got away?”

“Didn’t want to miss it,” he whispered back.

When Jesse had brought home the invitation two weeks ago, Sonny had looked at his trial schedule and found his heart sinking - the Brewer trial - a CEO forcing his unwanted attentions on the high school seniors who took work experience placements at his company - was scheduled for the whole week. He couldn’t pass it off, it was too big a case, and no one was going to let him reschedule a whole trial around his goddaughter / sort-of-stepdaughter’s school talent show.

He’d made a note of the date and time just in case, and he could hardly believe his luck this morning when Buchanan had requested a recess just after 2pm - an absent witness who had yet to be located delaying the case. The judge had glanced at his watch and with a sigh ordered that court would reconvene 9am the next day. It gave Sonny just enough time to call Hadid, explain the delay, and ask if he could take the rest of the day off - all in one breath as he darted from the courthouse, mentally calculating the time it would take to drive up to Jesse’s school. Hadid had reluctantly agreed, just instructed him to keep his phone on, which he had technically done.

He slipped an arm along the back of Amanda’s chair, the other holding Billie steady on his knee as they eagerly waited for Jesse to take the stage. He’d watched her dance with an intense pride - caught the smile on her face when she noticed him and Amanda in the audience, the way she faltered her steps just for a second before rejoining her friends.

His phone continued to buzz; it had been going almost non-stop for at least 10 minutes now, and he was sure the other parents nearby had noticed, based on the looks he was getting. Once Jesse had taken her bow he slid Billie onto Amanda’s lap, “I’m gonna have to take this,” he whispered, and she nodded in understanding - it was a near miracle they’d both managed to be here at all.

There were 27 missed calls on his phone when he slipped out of the auditorium - every single one of them from his boss. “Ms Hadid,” he said when she answered his returned call, awaiting the bite in her tone.

“I told you to keep your phone on, Carisi.”

“I know, I had something I had to do-”

Hadid didn’t entertain excuses, didn’t give him an opportunity to remind her that he’d been allowed to take the half-day, just insisted he return to the DA’s office as soon as possible. New evidence that could shake the trial’s outcome. No time to waste.

He sent an apology message to Amanda before heading out to his car; he was frustrated the whole drive downtown. Some days it felt like there was always one thing after another, like he’d never catch a break whether he was on duty or not. Still, the next several hours spent reformatting trial prep after the latest bombshell were necessary if he wanted to stand a chance of winning this trial. His mind, though, was drifting continually back to Jesse, standing on that stage with a proud grin on her face.

Although both girls were long in bed by the time he got out of work, he still made a stop en route to pick up flowers to give to Jesse in the morning - and when this trial was over he’d make it up to her, take her out for an Uncle Sonny and Jesse dinner to celebrate.

& 1.

Sonny was once again hiding with his father in his parents’ kitchen the night before a wedding, only this time it was his own, and he wasn’t hiding from arguments about hair and makeup, but rather from the intensity of his sisters’ knowing looks, the baby pictures his mother had pulled out and the way she seemed constantly in the brink of tears at the idea of her baby getting married, despite the fact that her baby was comfortably into his forties now.

“I told you,” his dad was saying, sat opposite him at the same kitchen table Sonny had done his homework at for most of his childhood, each of them cradling a glass of scotch, “Your mother worries about you most of all.”

“I’m gettin’ married tomorrow,” Sonny said, “I’ve got two kids, I don’t know what it is she’s got to worry about.”

His father shrugged, taking a long sip of his scotch, “Ah, mothers and sons,” he said, “Kinda like fathers and daughters,” he added, his eyes going to Bella’s wedding portrait hanging up on the wall behind Sonny’s head. The wall was filled with pictures from every moment of the Carisi children’s lives - birthdays, graduations, weddings - although Teresa’s wedding photo had long been replaced with one of the Carisi siblings at the reception - and an empty patch his mother had already cleared for Sonny and Amanda’s wedding photo, another gap just below it ready for a photo of all the Carisi cousins she was hoping to get - Jesse and Billie included. “You’ll get it when they grow up a bit.”

They were interrupted by Gina, once again handing him his phone with a frown on her face, “You can’t run out the night before your own wedding,” she said as he took the phone.

“What harm’d it do?” he argued, though he had absolutely no intention of going back to work, “It’s not like anyone will let me, y’know, see my fiancée.”

“Dominick Carisi Jr,” his mother scolded from the doorway, “It’s bad luck, and don’t the two of you be arrangin’ a work emergency just so you can see each other. I’ll know.”

He laughed, shaking his head as he glanced down at his missed calls - all from Fin - and dialled him back, “Fin, please don’t tell me this is a work call.”

“Okay, I won’t,” Fin said.

“I’m getting married in thirteen hours,” Sonny said, “Whatever it is can wait until I get back from my honeymoon.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Fin mumbled into the phone, “I’m not about to get slaughtered by your bride-to-be. You don’t need to come in,” he added, before launching into the reason for his call - an issue with the ADA covering their cases in Carisi’s absence, a disagreement over something Fin was sure Sonny had already put in place. “I wouldn’t bother you, but I gotta get out here tonight too.”

“You better,” Sonny said, “You’re a groomsman.”

He confirmed Fin’s memory of the deal on the table, offered to call Crosby himself and put the issue to bed. “Nah, I got it,” Fin assured him. “And I’ll be at your folks’ place at 9am sharp.”

Gina reached out a hand for his phone when he hung up, but he kept his fingers wrapped around it, glancing down at the lock screen where Amanda, Jesse and Billie all had wide - ice cream covered, in the girls’ case - grins on their faces. “Nah, I’ll keep it,” he said.

Gina tugged the phone from his hands, the same way she’d taken toys from him when they were young. “No more work calls,” she said, “And Mom says you’re not allowed to call Amanda either.”

“What? I can’t even talk to her now?”

“It’ll be worth the wait, son,” his dad assured him, and he already knew that was true.

And he was right - of course - because thirteen hours later he married the love of his life, surrounded by their family, their friends, their colleagues - no interruptions, just them.

#carisi week #svu fic #rollisi fic #svu #sonny carisi #my fic

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pterodactylterrace · 3 years

Text

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 2

Chapter Summary: Cat’s out of the bag now

Rating: 18+ for later chapters

Warning: None for this chapter... maybe some swear words, idk

Prologue Chapter 1

Ever had a bad day? Like, a really, really bad day? Just... one thing goes wrong, and then everything else gets progressively worse from there? Then, just when you think you've finally reached rock bottom for the day and gotten a handle on it, it somehow manages to get even worse?

Well, that was the current situation Faye found herself in. Absolutely everything had gone wrong that morning and now she found herself in a bit of a pickle as she rushed about the, thankfully empty, makeup trailer.

"Just, sit here and watch your tablet, ok?" Faye instructed, sitting the toddler down on a stool tucked back in a hidden corner, praying this would work. If it didn't, she had no clue what she was going to do.

She rushed back to the chair just as Henry squeezed his massive frame through the tiny door, flashing her a blinding smile as Kal pushed his way in past his legs to settle in his favorite, sunny spot by the door. "There's my favorite artist!"

"Oh, you're such a liar." Faye laughed, leaning into his welcoming hug and giving him a quick squeeze around his midsection, breathing him in when her head pressed into his chest. Smelling that good should be against the law.

"I would never lie to you." Henry assured, playfully bumping her with his shoulder as he seated himself in his usual chair.

It seemed everything was getting better, things were finally turning around and going well, she was actually going to pull this off! She had already applied the prosthetics, so the hard part was already done with. With a sigh of relief, Faye turned back around to get the foundation ready to blend over the fake scars when she heard it.

"Oh, hello there." Her stomach dropped.

"Hi, I'm Briar!" The little girl greeted enthusiastically, beaming up at the large man sitting in the makeup chair.

"What are you doing here?" Henry asked gently.

"Tablet not working." Briar whimpered, holding the device up despondently, her lower lip sliding out in a pout as tears began collecting in her eyes. Always the drama queen.

"Then let's take a look at it, shall we?" Henry suggested, absently lifting the girl and sitting her on his knee to examine the tablet in her chubby little hands. Faye could swear her heart was going to beat right out of her chest as she watched him tapping away at the screen, the sounds of cocomelon soon spilling from the speakers again, much to the child's delight.

"Yay! Cocomelon, cocomelon!" The little girl cheered, fixing her eyes on the screen.

"Now, sweetheart, where's your mother?" Henry asked, his brows drawn together as he looked at the little girl already mesmerized by the show in front of her.

"That's Mama." Briar quickly explained, pointing directly at Faye before diverting her attention back to her tablet. Henry's brows rose almost comically high as he looked up at Faye, waiting for confirmation of what he was just told. Faye had a daughter? He'd known her for months, how was this just now coming up?

"I... I'm so sorry." Faye quickly apologized, panic beginning to rise in her throat. This was bad, so very bad. Not only did she look like the world's most unprofessional makeup artist, but she was probably in the running for worst mother as well. Who just leaves their kid in the corner while they work? "The babysitter called and canceled this morning and I couldn't find a replacement before work. I thought if she had her tablet she would be quiet and out of everyone's way for the day, but then it stopped working and-"

"Faye. Faye!" Henry interrupted, pausing to make sure she was paying attention. "I need you to calm down. Everything is ok. Things come up, it's not a big deal." He assured, his voice taking on a soothing tone. "Sweetheart, do you like dogs?" Henry asked, turning his attention back to the little girl as she nodded enthusiastically. "Well, you see that dog over there?" He asked, nodding towards a snoozing Kal. "He's mine, and he just loves pets."

"I pet him?" Briar gasped excitedly, passing her tablet off to Henry and squirming out of his lap to scurry over to the sleeping bear, patting him on the top of his head with a clumsy little hand.

"That should keep them both busy enough for us to finish up here." Henry pointed out, settling back into the chair as though nothing had happened. Faye glanced between her daughter, cooing over the bear of a dog by the door and back to Henry a few times, her mind trying to catch up and process what just happened. She shook her head once to clear her thoughts and shakily returned to work, glancing over to the toddler every so often out of habit.

"So were you going to tell me you had a daughter?" Henry finally asked, raising a brow at the woman painting his face.

"I-... It never came up." Faye mumbled, looking back to her daughter as she curled up into the dog's side, babbling away to him about the bedtime story she'd been read last night.

"But why would you hide that?"

"I don't know." Faye lied, focusing her efforts closer to his mouth to end the conversation. Of course she had a reason. A rather simple one at that.

Guys like him aren't interested in single mothers.

Sure, it was a bit silly looking back on it. After all, what chance did she have with Henry? A slim one, if any. That still didn't stop her from hoping he may see something in her. Of course if he did show any interest, she would have eventually told him. Having a child isn't exactly something you can hide, after all. However, she had been hoping to wait until he was more invested in her than just being "his favorite artist".

Too little, too late.

"How old is she?" Henry asked once the brushes moved away from his mouth.

"She'll be three next week." Faye informed quietly, keeping her gaze averted.

"Next week? Do you plan on celebrating?"

"Not really. All my family is back home in the states. I was just planning on making her a cake or something, but I'm kind of a crap baker, so I'm on the fence about even doing that."

"I hope you don't mind my asking, but what about her father? Is he going to celebrate with you?"

"No." Faye answered simply, biting her lip and trying not to dwell on the past any more than she had to.

"So exactly how bad are you at baking?" Henry changed the subject, closing his eye as she worked around it.

"Briar, do you like mommy's cakes?"

"No!" Briar quickly answered, Kal's head popping up at the sudden outburst.

"Why not, sweetie?" Faye pressed.

"They're yucky! Bleck!"

"Does that answer your question?" Faye retorted, raising a brow at the man in front of her.

"Would you like help?"

"What?"

"Making a cake. I could help you." Henry offered, locking his eyes on hers.

"You bake?" Faye blurted out, wincing at her sudden outburst as Henry laughed.

"In fact I do. I have a few days off from filming next weekend. If you'd like, I could come over and help you make her a birthday cake."

Was this real life? This couldn't be real life. In real life, handsome men don't just swoop in and offer to make a cake for your daughter. This was some elaborate dream. Or a very drawn out strip-o-gram.

"I mean... that would be great, but-"

"Perfect, what day works best for you, Friday or Saturday?"

"Uhh... Saturay, I work on Friday."

"Alright, I'll give you my number so you can text me your address. Ten in the morning alright?"

"Yeah, umm... she naps around eleven, so ten is fine."

"So ten on Friday." Henry confirmed as he stood, pulling her in for another hug.

What. Just. Happened?

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #multi chapter #guys like you #guys like you fic #chapter 2

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zmediaoutlet · 3 years

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in support of Texas relief, @doilycoffin donated $100, and requested Liam & Cordell Walker. Thank you for donating!

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(read on AO3)

One of Liam's earliest memories is the time Cordell dropped him on his head. Not actually accurate at all to the way it went but that's how it's told in the family mythology. He was really little, three maybe or four—for some reason that part's indeterminate—and Cordell was climbing the stable and playing adventurer, or maybe just showing off and the adventurer part was a good excuse. Liam was following Cordell around like he always did and he tried to climb up, too, on the fence that kept in the horses when they were let out for their run, and Cordell told him no and that he was too little but Liam was determined to try. Cordell climbed back down and tried to steady him where he'd made it up to the top rung of the fence, and Liam lost his balance anyway, and fell straight backwards and landed headfirst on the dirt. There was a little rock and then a lot of blood, and then stitches, and Mama fussing and their dad ripping Cordi a new one—Liam doesn't even remember that it hurt—but the part that sticks it as a memory is how they all rode together in the truck back and forth from the doctor and Cordell held his hand in the backseat and he was crying, the whole way home, a silent seeping kind of crying that made his face a shiny mess. Liam thinks about that weirdly often. Cordi looking out the window and crying.

When the story gets retold for new friends, or the kids, or Cordell's buddies from the Rangers come around for coffee and Mama's pecan pie, they tell it that Cordell's so clumsy he dropped his baby brother on his head. Liam sort of hates it, every time. Cordell laughs and does the aw shucks routine he's so good at, relaxed with his beer and shrugging embarrassed apology. When Liam was about to head off to college, his eighteenth birthday dinner, Daddy told the story again as a kind of miracle survival, and Liam got up from the table real fast and went out onto the porch, annoyed for some reason beyond measure. It was Cordi who got up and came after him and said, a little cautious, "What's up, Stinker?" and Liam said to him, mad, "Why don't you ever tell people it was me? I was the one climbing up after you. It's not like you did it on purpose."

Cordell just blinked at him. "What does it matter?" he said. "You were the baby and I was a dumbass kid. So what?" He hooked his arm around Liam's neck and he smelled like sweat and Old Spice and that laundry detergent Emily bought that wasn't anything like the one they used at home. Liam pushed at his side but didn't try hard to get away. Not that it would've worked. "It's how we figured out how hard that head was, right? Come on. Mama's gonna wonder if you didn't like the brisket."

Liam let himself be dragged back into the house, and Cordi pushed him down into his chair right between him and Emily, and Emily smiled at him easy, and passed him the potatoes. "One month 'til the dorms," she said, very quiet so no one else could hear under Cordell telling some awful lie about Liam having gas, and Liam laughed, surprised, and it just happened that it was the same time everyone else laughed so that was okay. He always liked Emily. Cordell punched his thigh lightly on his other side, and gave him a warmer more real smile, and Liam dropped it, and he didn't complain about the story again.

Seven years between them. Liam always wondered if he was an accident, even if Mama said that with Cordell going to school she was ready to have another baby around the house. Cordell was always the one who was getting into trouble. Rambunctious, loud, falling headfirst into things and getting dragged out covered in mud. Liam learned from his example what not to do. Do not: run along the bleachers at the football stadium and vault the handrails until your foot gets caught and you fall and snap your wrist clean in two. Do not: get caught drinking beer with your high school girlfriend behind the horsebarn, and make Daddy give the most mortifying sex talk in the world afterward. Do not: make friends with the most delinquent-ass kid in the whole hill country and wind up explaining every other week why, really, he wasn't that bad, give him a chance—

Somehow even then he was the golden child. Not the best grades, not the most obedient. That wasn't what their dad cared about. Cordell was good on a horse, good on his feet. Respectful when it mattered and devil-may-care when it didn't. In high school he was the quarterback, of course he was, and Liam was right there in the stands with their parents every Friday night, cheering his lungs out. Weirdly boastful with his fourth-grade friends: his older brother was the star of the football team. His older brother could ride a bull for ten seconds and get off hardly winded. Bookish, kind of short, he needed the borrowed glory of Cordell's success to be proud of. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it got him pushed over on the soccer field while some bigger boy went, gawd, William, who cares?

Liam never got in trouble. Never broke a bone. After bringing Cordell back from the hospital with a fresh new cast on his ankle and a dopey slightly-drugged smile on his face, Mama settled him in bed with Liam's help and turned off the light and then, in the kitchen, sighed and said, "Liam, you are a real relief to the mind, do you know that?" He was proud of that, too, in that moment. It wasn't until later that it nagged at him. A therapist asked him, much later in a sleek Manhattan office that smelled faintly of sage, "Do you think your predilection for being contrarian results from that time?" He went home annoyed with her, and was more annoyed when he told Bret the story and Bret didn't even turn around from the carbonara he was making and said, "Babe, you're the most contrary person I know."

He wasn't. He didn't—think he was. He… was, he realized, after a week of sitting with it, and a week after that it made sense. He didn't pick fights, and he didn't make waves. His rebellion was quiet. His hard head, forcing him to make his own space in the world. Not able to live up to Cordell and knowing instinctively that it would be awful even to try—and so taking the opposite turn, every time. It was better than being compared, even if he knew there was no chance but to be compared.

He studied hard. He read, all the time. He liked math and literature equally and did equally well in both. He hated P.E. but he did what he could there, too, and he learned to ride even if he didn't actually love horses the way the rest of the family did, and when Daddy asked if he wanted to join up with the little league baseball Liam asked to play soccer, instead, and Daddy frowned but Mama said, "Why not, I've seen enough boys drop foul balls for a lifetime." So, soccer, and most of his games were during the day or on Saturday mornings, but Cordi came to a lot of them anyway, and when Liam's team won Cordi would jump down onto the field and grab him up by the waist and crow David Beckham, right here! Little David Beckham for sale! Liam would struggle and then he'd be slung headfirst over Cordell's shoulder like a potato sack and his face would get so red from laughing that it hurt.

On September 12, 2001, Mama and Daddy were gone from the house when Liam got home from school and he was glad for it. That was a Wednesday. He was in sixth grade. The teachers weren't even trying to hold normal lessons and everyone was talking about what had happened the day before. Melissa Kettering was out that day and the rumor was that her dad had been on a business trip in New York. Liam had raised his hand and asked the social studies teacher if there was going to be a war, like there was after Pearl Harbor, and she sat down on her desk and shook her head and didn't answer.

He was trying to read his book for English when the phone rang. Cordell, calling from his apartment in town. Hey, buddy, he said, over the line, and Liam sat down on the floor by the phone table and closed his eyes, unaccountably almost about to cry. Is Daddy there? Liam told him he was home alone. Lucky, Cordi said, you can totally throw a rager, and Liam didn't laugh, and neither did Cordell, even though he always laughed at his own stupid jokes. Hey, um. I shouldn't—I don't know if I should tell you this but I've gotta tell someone, and Em's in class, and I just have to—I did something, and I need to—

He interrupted himself and Liam could hear him breathing over the line. He didn't want Cordell to say anything. If he didn't say anything then Liam could pretend that he was going to tell a story about some party they'd gone to at Emily's sorority, or that Hoyt had come back into town and they'd seen a show at ACL, or that he was gonna come stay that weekend, and maybe he and Liam would go riding. Anything but what he was about to say. Liam could hear it, in his head. He could hear it like it had already been said and it was echoing, now, inside, like a verse from a song he'd always, always remember.

Cordell graduated from the Marine boot camp on a Saturday in the middle of December. Liam went along even if he wasn't allowed to attend the actual ceremony and Daddy complained about the cost of the plane tickets until Mama told him to shut up. Liam sat between them on the flight and it was the first time he was ever in the air. Over the top of Mama's crossword book he watched the clouds go by over New Mexico, Arizona, with complete wonder. San Diego, then, different to Austin—palm trees, and the air so wet, and even the parking lot at their hotel smelling like warm flowers.

Mama gave him fifty dollars before they left for the graduation. They were bringing Cordell back, after, because they got one night with him before they had to give him back to the military. "Order a pizza," she said, "at 4:30 exactly, and we should get back at the same time the pizza comes so we can all eat together." Liam watched American Pie on the hotel tv while he waited, something he would never have been allowed at home. He made the call when he was supposed to, and when the girl on the phone asked him what toppings his mind went completely blank because he was never allowed to make that decision. Cordi liked ham and pineapple and none of the rest of them did. Liam ordered it with extra pineapple.

When a knock came on the hotel room door Liam jumped up to open it, cash in hand. The one holding the pizzas was Cordell, grinning at him with Mama and Daddy standing behind. "Pizza delivery," Cordell said, and Liam crashed into him for a hug so hard that Cordi almost dropped the boxes and said whoa, Stinker, soft and laughing.

His hair was cut off, an inch on top and shorter on the sides, so he looked like those pictures of their grandpa when he was in Korea. He was skinny, too, which Liam didn't get, because he thought boot camp was all about building up muscles. "Mostly running," Cordi said. He was tired, dark circles under his eyes. He was stretched out on one bed with his strange starched blue pants and the awful khaki shirt that made him look washed-out pale even if he'd been running around San Diego for thirteen weeks, and Mama was sat next to him squeezing his arm like he'd evaporate if she looked away for a minute, and even Daddy was hovering. Proud but worried. Liam sat by Cordell's boots and tugged on the laces, wanting to ask more questions but not daring to.

Cordi fell asleep before six o'clock. Daddy turned on the television real quiet to the news. More stuff about the invasion. Liam hoped it'd be all over by the time Cordi got there. Mama boxed up the remaining pizza, shaking her head. "Don't know why you picked pineapple, kiddo," she said, and Liam shrugged, sitting at the table, watching Cordell's face, turned away a little on the pillow. Liam wanted to shake him awake but of course he didn't. For his whole life, after, he gets a little sick to his stomach when he smells pineapple.

While Cordell was in Afghanistan Mama and Daddy had Emily over to the house a lot. She was sweet. Respectful of Mama, calling her ma'am half the time, and charming to their dad even though Liam knew that she and Daddy probably disagreed on more than things than not. She liked that Liam played soccer and asked if he ever watched the Premiere League. Liam didn't even know what that was. She helped Mama cook supper and went out and took pictures of the horses which made Daddy smile, and one time when Liam went outside after dinner to read she was there crying, on the porch, quiet with her hand over her mouth, and Liam hung back and didn't know what to say. "Sorry," she said, dashing at her cheeks with the heel of her hand. She licked her lips and nodded at his book, sniffing. "That's a good one. You should read the sequel, too." He did, and told her about it, and she smiled like a sunrise, the way she always did, and he felt like—he didn't even know, what he felt like.

Liam was the best man at their wedding. He felt and looked ridiculous. Fifteen in a tux and he didn't know how to tie a bow-tie, but Cordi didn't either, so Daddy had to do it for both of them, grumbling the whole time that they should've learned this by now. "Not a lot of bowties in Kandahar, Daddy," Cordell said, winking at Liam, and Liam—blushed. Ridiculous, and embarrassing, the way the whole affair and the lead-up had felt, but Cordell didn't seem to care or notice, so—there was Liam, blushing in a bowtie.

Cordell had only been back for a year and somehow things were off. He was serving the rest of his contract out in the reserves but he wasn't finishing up his degree like he'd told Mama he would. He'd entered the training program for the state troopers and was set up to be a highway cop, of all things. He'd rented a house in Austin with Emily and they lived together the whole year before the wedding—an argument with Daddy about that one, which Liam listened to from the hallway with his heart pounding—and they weren't even going to be married in the church because Emily didn't want a wedding mass and, Liam suspected, Cordell didn't either. Daddy lost that argument, too.

The wedding was tiny. Liam the best man, Geri the maid of honor. Emily's aunt that raised her on one side and Daddy and Mama on the other, and a handful of Cordell and Emily's friends making up the numbers in the little rented hall. Afterward they had a bigger barbecue out at the ranch and in front of the crowd Emily fed Cordell a dainty forkful of the lemon cake and Cordell responded by dotting a tiny bit of frosting on her nose and kissing it off, and Mama's best friend Sue-Ellen sighed and said to Mama, where Liam could hear, "Well, Abilene, maybe they're atheists but I daresay you raised that boy right every other way," and Mama said something dry back but Liam was watching how Cordell cupped Emily's cheek in his hand, smiling down at her like she hung the moon, and he thought, yeah. Yeah, Cordell was just about perfect, wasn't he.

"High school in the fall, right?" Emily's aunt said, later. "Emily says you play soccer. Going to try out for the team?"

Cordell and Emily were dancing, swaying in the grass, the bonfire leaping up behind them. His hand still on her cheek. "I'm quitting soccer," Liam said, without even realizing he was going to. "I'm going to try out for wrestling, instead."

He figured out he was gay relatively early. His friends at school got hold of a Playboy in fifth grade and didn't really know what to do with it beyond blustering. This was before anyone but nerds was on the internet, and Liam was a nerd but did a decent job of hiding it. Scott beckoned Liam over while they were waiting for the buses and showed him the top of the magazine, the bold logo and the girl with her boobs pushing up out of her bra—the group of them snickering, saying how hot she was—and that they were going to look at it at Scott's house later if Liam wanted to come over—and Liam said, "No, my mom's making me go to the store with her." The lie came out effortlessly.

They did have a computer at home, and dial-up internet it had been very, very hard to argue Daddy into. He hardly knew how to find anything but he did some careful searches while Daddy was out with the horses and Mama was cooking, singing bad over the stove like she tended to. Made Liam's face hot to see some of what he was seeing. Hoyt came over, once, while Cordi was away in the war, and he helped Liam and Mama dig out a bunch of tomatoes that hadn't grown in right, and afterward they sat on the porch drinking lemonade while Mama asked Hoyt all about the oil field he said he'd been working in and Liam watched how Hoyt's legs sprawled out on the porch, how his jeans hugged up against his calf muscle and how the sweat had made his white shirt nearly transparent, and he had to sit very careful on the bench with his knees drawn up to hide the effect it had on him.

When Cordell came home from Afghanistan they threw a huge party. Everyone came, Daddy's friends and Mama's, and Emily and their friends from college, and even Hoyt, magicked up out of somewhere (for the promise of free beer, Daddy said), and then Liam, the youngest person there, watching from the corner of the porch as always. Cordi was very tan and finally bulky with muscle and his hair had grown out, just a little, from that military buzz, and he barely detached himself from Emily the whole time, his arm always around her shoulders or hers around his waist, and when they did step apart his eyes followed her and she watched him right back, smiling at the most random times. Liam was fourteen and a little more aware of the world and he wondered abruptly if they'd had sex yet. Cordi had only been home one day and he'd slept at the ranch and not at Emily's apartment. How would they have found the time?

He was chewing his thumbnail over it when a sweaty weight crashed down on his shoulders, arms trapping his in. Hoyt. "Hey there, Stinker," Hoyt said, and Liam shrugged fretfully and said, "Don't call me that," and Hoyt laughed at him but stood up and ruffled Liam's hair completely backwards instead.

"Still pretty shrimpy," he said. He was grinning, like he had some big secret. "You planning on growing up anytime soon, champ?"

"Don't you have a sketchy job to get to?" Liam said, annoyed. He tried to fix his hair and gave it up as a lost cause the second Hoyt's grin got bigger. Asshole.

Hoyt sipped his beer. Twenty-one—he was allowed, although Liam had noticed that Mama was being a little free with handing out drinks to Emily's college friends. "Glad big bro's home, I bet," Hoyt said.

Liam didn't dignify that with a response. Hoyt laughed, under his breath, and held out the beer for Liam to take, which he did because he didn't know what else to do. "Go on," Hoyt said, nodding at it. "I won't tell your mama. Not fair that everyone else gets to celebrate while little Liam's sober. And boring."

"I'm not boring," Liam said, although he knew he was because half the kids at school clearly thought so. He took a sip of the beer, anyway, not knowing if Hoyt would snatch it away. Nasty, and he made a face that made Hoyt hoot, and then he took a bigger gulp, determined at least to get something out of it.

"There he goes," Hoyt said, weirdly delighted, and he clapped Liam on the shoulder the same way he would Cordi when they were in high school, and the bit of warm in Liam's belly went lower. "That's a welcome home."

Liam kept the beer, curled against his chest. He felt dumb holding it and also weirdly adult. "He's not even here," he said. Sort of scoffing. "Doesn't matter."

Hoyt curled his arm around Liam's shoulders again and ignored how he went stiff, and nodded out at the party. Music playing from a radio Daddy had set up on a truck-bed. Emily and Cordell, dancing in the firelight. Same as it would be for the wedding reception a year from then, although of course Liam didn't know that at the time. "Aw, he's here," Hoyt said. He squeezed Liam's shoulders. He smelled strange, like—skunk, and Mama's compost bin. It was gross but also kind of appealing and Liam shifted, hoping his dumb body wouldn't react. "He's just with his girl, and who could blame him. No call for getting jealous."

He wasn't jealous. Not—exactly. That night after Mama and Daddy went to bed the party kept on, and Liam went to his room and watched from the dark window, the bonfire still going and all the college kids still going, too. When he finally fell asleep he had a strange, blurry dream about Hoyt—building a bonfire together, and Hoyt smiling at him and being a jackass and then touching his face, the same way Cordell touched Emily's face, and then Hoyt touching his stomach, low—and then the dream shifted, the weird way dreams shift, and it was Cordell, touching his stomach, and smiling at him, and leaning in close—with his hair longer like it was before he enlisted—but wearing for some reason the dumb khaki shirt of his uniform—and then Cordell's hand—

When he woke up he was soaked and it was bright morning. He washed his underwear out in the sink, feeling like his head was screwed on to someone else's body, and then he hid the underwear in the hamper, and showered, and tried not to think about it. He had that dream or one like it on and off for years, until he finally lost his virginity to Michael in college and it went away. He never told his therapist about it, or Bret, or anyone. He could rationalize it but he couldn't ever acknowledge it out loud because of what it—felt like, to think about it. To make it real in a place that wasn't just his stupid, crazy, dreaming head.

He had the dream again the night before he came out to his parents. January 2nd, trying out his new year's resolution of honesty. He figured in a ruthless sort of way that if his parents kicked him out or hated him or tried to change him then at least he had early acceptance at UT for the fall and a full scholarship and it was just eight months where his life would be completely over.

Cordell was at home on the ranch and Liam figured that's what triggered it. A couple days of vacation, since he'd worked over Christmas, and he and Emily and baby Stella had stayed up for ringing in the new year, and everyone had taken turns kissing Stella's forehead when midnight struck. Liam had been allowed a glass of champagne, Mama not even fussing about it since it was a holiday and the house was full—so he had two glasses—and when he went to bed he could still hear Cordell laughing from the front room, telling Daddy some story about a bust on the highway, something about stolen Santa suits, something light.

He dreamed they were swimming, up at the lake, and Cordell was naked. Laughing, that same too-loud booming laugh, but just because he was happy and not like he was making fun. Being kind to Liam. Holding him from behind with his arms around Liam's chest, their legs slipping together in the water. Liam could imagine what it would be like for a man to do something to him, he'd seen porn by that point, and he'd seen Cordell naked too because of the vagaries of living in an old house without a lock on the bathroom door, but somehow there was still a disconnect in his head. He was turned on beyond belief but nothing—happened, just the vagueness of Cordell behind him. His big hands.

Mama took Emily and the baby in to town, that day, for shopping. Daddy said they'd just bought half of Macy's and Mama shushed him so Daddy was up at the barn, checking over the new foal. Liam sat on the porch with a cup of coffee and watched birds come to the new feeder Mama had got from Emily and he tried to rehearse it, in his head. What to say. He'd seen it in movies but it didn't feel possible to come out of his mouth.

Cordell sat by him, on the bench swing. "Since when do you drink coffee?" he said. Then, less casual: "Is that my mug?"

"Yes," Liam said, and didn't protest when Cordell took it out of his hands. He rubbed his palms on his jeans. He had a hard time talking to Cordi after he had one of those dreams and so it was a relief that most of the time Cordell wasn't around, that he was in town at the house he shared with his wife. With his wife, Liam reminded himself, as though that could help. Another thing to make Liam different. Wrestling instead of football, reading books instead of riding, and now—this, on top of everything.

"Whatever's going on," Cordell said. Liam blinked, came back to the world. The cold, and the swing barely rocking from how Cordi had set his boot on the porch and pushed, and Cordell looking at him very steadily. "You know you can tell me, right?"

Liam swallowed. "Even if it's—" Bad is what came to his mouth and he shook his head. He prayed about this, he resolved. It's not bad. "Weird?"

"If it weren't weird you probably wouldn't be being so weird about it," Cordi said, frank, and Liam shoved his shoulder. The dream dissipated just like that. How could he possibly be crushing on his brother when his brother is this much of a jerk. Cordell swayed, grinning, letting Liam push him even if Cordell outweighed him then by fifty pounds, but then he set his hand on the back of Liam's neck, more serious. "Whatever it is. We can figure it out."

Liam licked his lips, and nodded. He knew then that was going to tell Cordell the one secret, if not the whole of it, before they left the porch that morning, and Cordi would—back him up, with Mama and Daddy, even if he didn't get it. "Give me back the coffee," he said, and Cordell raised his eyebrows but passed it back, so Liam could take a gulp. The caffeine probably wouldn't help but maybe it wouldn't hurt, and it felt nice to hold the mug. "Promise you won't freak," Liam said then, even if he was—mostly, ninety percent, pretty sure—and Cordell said, immediately, "I promise," and Liam believed him. That was the thing, with Cordell, in those days. It was easy to believe him.

It's Mama who calls, when Emily dies. Liam's already in bed because he's got court in the morning and Bret shoves at his shoulder, says, "Oh my god answer it and then change your ringtone, I hate that song," and Liam's still fuzzy from sleep and doesn't quite process that there's no good reason Mama would be calling him after nine o'clock in Texas because she always thought that was bad manners, it had been drilled into him all his life, and he says, mumbly, still waking up, "Hey, Mama," and there's a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the line before she says, Honey, I'm sorry, but I have real bad news.

He flies out the next day. Bret tries to dissuade him. "There's nothing you can do right now," he says, as though that's the point. JFK to Austin-Bergstrom is four and a half hours and he spends the whole time with his chest this weird achy knot. It doesn't feel real but it is. He texted Mama his flight plan and she says that Daddy will pick him up at the airport, and when he gets into the truck Daddy shakes his head and says, "Good to see you, son," but without any truth to it. Liam doesn't take it personally.

Cordell's not at the ranch when they get there but the kids are. "Hi, Uncle Liam," Stella says, remarkably clear, until he hugs her, and then she curls his hands into his shirt and cries silently, her shoulders shaking. August doesn't get up from the couch, sitting there with one arm crossed over his chest and the other over his mouth, and he looks—Liam's always shocked by it—so exactly like his mother. Stella's a copy of her grandmother, to the point that Mama set her prom picture side by side with Stella's first dance photo and the only real difference was the dress—but Auggie always took after Emily, from coloring to temperament to those long straight eyebrows, that mouth that curves up into a wide, easy smile. Not smiling now, and not for a while, and when Stella pulls away and wipes her eyes Liam sits down next to Auggie and sets his hand on the back of his neck and Auggie just folds over, quiet, like whatever was holding him up just isn't there anymore.

"Where is he?" Liam asks Mama, in the kitchen later. The sun's going down. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours.

Mama's eyes are red-rimmed. "Where do you think?" she says.

Liam takes the truck. Lady Bird Lake is officially closed at night but of course that makes no difference. He parks and walks, up to the lookout, and Cordell doesn't hear him coming. He's sitting on the steps to the gazebo, his elbows braced on his knees. The light hitting his hair. Long again. Liam doesn't know how he's always skirting regs and getting away with it, except of course Cordi gets away with everything. Golden child.

He regrets the thought as soon as he has it. "Cordi," he says, and Cordell looks up in complete surprise. Liam smiles at him, as much as he can, and comes and sits on the step. He tries to think of what to say and can't come up with anything.

"Aren't you in court tomorrow?" Cordell says, after they sit there for thirty seconds. His voice sounds thick and distant.

Liam shakes his head. "Today," he says, and Cordell nods and huffs and says, "Right," and then looks down at his hands again. They're twisted together, his thumb rubbing hard and repeatedly at the mount of his other palm. Liam reaches over and puts his hand over the knot of Cordell's fingers and Cordell's jaw flexes but he lets Liam do it. "I'm sorry," Liam says.

"Everyone is," Cordell says, halfway bitter. Liam squeezes his hands and Cordell makes a rough low noise, some sound Liam has never heard him make. "Jesus. They won't let me go in to work."

"Of course they won't," Liam says, and Cordell pulls his hands away, pushes them into his hair. "Cordi, they have to—they're going to be looking for who did it and it has to be by the books so it'll stick. They're not going to risk screwing it up."

"I just want to—" Cordell cuts himself off but Liam can imagine what goes there. He touches Cordell's back instead and the muscle flinches. Set to fly off the handle any second. Fight or flight, but Cordell never used to run from anything and Liam can't imagine he's going to start now.

He stands up. "Wrestle me," he says.

Cordell looks up. "What?"

Genuine surprise. At least it's not misery. "Come on," Liam says. "See if you can pin me." These jeans are nice, were a gift from Bret, but he'll sacrifice them. He holds out a hand and Cordell lets himself be pulled upright, and it's a shock like it always is when Liam's been too long away, how much taller Cordi still is. Liam always was the shrimp. He pushes Cordell's chest, lightly, and Cordell slaps his hands away. "Cordi," Liam says, coaxing, and pulls at Cordell's wrist. "Let me take your mind off it."

Stupid thing to say and he knows it as soon as he says it. Cordell gives him an ugly look and shoves him for real. "Take my mind off it?" he says, while Liam's staggering backwards. Liam sets his boots in the dirt and braces, and when Cordell pushes him again Liam grapples, and they are wrestling, then. It's sloppy, bad holds, both of them in too-slick boots for this ground. Liam manages to swing Cordell around and get his back on the ground but Cordi's always been stronger and shoves him off, and then they're just—flat-out scrambling, Liam's hand sinking into a patch of mud and both of them breathing hard, Cordell twisting out of his grip and getting an arm over his chest, tight, before Liam eels over and flips them—gets Cordell on his back on the dirt—his leg over Cordell's—and then Cordi drops his head back against the ground and taps out, panting.

"You been practicing?" Cordell says. His eyes are closed.

Liam sits up, says, "Class at my gym." Cordi nods and Liam gets off him, kneels next to him in the dirt. The gazebo's bright and the skyline's pretty, on the other side of the lake. Liam looks at that instead of at his brother, so he won't have to see the tears seeping down Cordell's temples, wetting his hair.

"It's not okay," Liam says. He sets a hand on Cordell's chest. At the DA's office in Manhattan he's comforted widows, widowers, orphans. Some of them seeking justice but most of them knowing it won't really be found. Cordell, he thinks, is one of the latter type, but Liam tries out the lines he's learned anyway. "It's not okay and it's not fair. I can't pretend I know what you're going through but I'm sorry." He swallows, his throat trying to close without his say-so. "Jesus. I'm so sorry, Cordi."

"Yeah," Cordell says, rough, and grips Liam's wrist. When Liam looks down Cordell's eyes are still closed. They stay there for a while, by the lake, long past when it's uncomfortable.

When they finally get up, Liam's knees creak like an old man's but Cordell doesn't make the joke he should. He leaves Cordell's truck and drives them both back into town, and gets drive-through Whataburger that Cordell picks at instead of eating, and says, "Do you want to go back to the ranch?" and isn't surprised when Cordell shakes his head, no. They get a hotel instead, two queens and a respectable mini-bar, and Liam calls Mama from next to the ice machine in the hall and says that he's got Cordell, and they're fine, and they'll be back in the morning. She clearly wants to object but doesn't know how and Liam hangs up before she can figure it out.

He gets back, with the ice. Cordell's sitting on the end of the bed watching the news like it's the Superbowl. "I was thinking about the funeral," Cordell says, when the door closes behind Liam. "I have to plan the funeral and I don't even have her body."

Liam sets the bucket on the bar and sits on the other bed. "We'll help," Liam says. Cordell's cheek sucks in on one side. "You don't have to do any of this alone."

"Yeah," Cordell says, remote, and Liam looks at him. Weird hollowness in his stomach and he realizes only after a second why: it's the first time, all his life, that he can remember Cordell lying to him.

The Rodeo Kings operation is supposed to be quick. Three months, is the estimate: to get in, to learn the operation, to get out. They need an agent who can be convincingly skilled as a traveling rider, who knows a ranch operation, who can act. There's a depressingly short list and one name at the top of it. Everyone thinks it's a bad idea except for Graves, and Cordell.

"It'll give me something to think about that's not this," Cordell says, when Liam's trying to talk him out of it. They're on the back patio of his and Emily's house in town. The kids are still staying out at the ranch. It's two weeks after the funeral and they haven't gone back to school. Cordell hasn't shaved in a few days and the sound as he scratches his jaw is loud. There's no music playing from the kitchen window, like there used to be. The plants out here are already dying. Liam wants to grip Cordell's shoulders, get in his face and yell, but doesn't dare to. He gets a deep sigh, instead, and Cordell flipping a poker chip between his fingers like a restless card shark, and then a smile, fake as fake. "Anyway, who do you know who can ride a bull better than me?"

"No one," Liam says, and Cordell nods, like damn straight, and in the morning Liam goes in to the Travis County DA and announces he'd like to transfer offices, due to a family emergency that's going to keep him here in Texas, and it's only afterward when some calls are made and the paperwork's signed that he calls Bret, back in Manhattan, and leaves a voicemail that he's going to be staying a lot longer than he thought.

It isn't three months. As the operation drags on, Liam sweet-talks his way into being one of the assistant attorneys on the case and he tries to alleviate how Graves is getting more and more suspicious. Cordell's old partner James gets promoted to captain, six months in, and he vouches for Cordell, too, not that it seems to matter either way. Cordell's the one who's embedded with the rodeo and he'll either finish the job or he won't. They don't have another agent to send in, not without compromising the work that's been done so far, and nothing else will do but to wait.

The kids ask Liam for updates every week when he comes for dinner at the ranch. "I can't tell you everything," he says, like he does every time, and Daddy's quiet at the head of the table, and Mama quieter on the opposite side. Cordell has a rendezvous every Monday when the rodeo takes the day off with a burner cell phone and an agent waiting impatiently for his call, and his reports are terse: still trying to get them to trust me. They're suspicious of newcomers. The ring seems really tight and I can't figure out an opening. Give me time. He's allowed to call Liam the same day and Liam answers every unknown number on Mondays, giving hope to spam callers nationwide. Cordell usually sounds tired but he still calls and they have a dumb, simple conversation—about how the Rangers beat the Angels, how he's breaking in some new boots and has a blister the size of Indiana, how he's craving, inexplicably, sushi. "Sushi?" Liam asks, trying to imagine when Cordell ever tried it, and Cordi says, with rare humor, "Hey, I'm not a big fancy New York lawyer but I've had my share of raw fish," and when Liam hands the phone over to the kids they lean over the speakerphone and talk over the top of each other about a class project Stella did, and a history paper Auggie got an A+ on, and Liam watches with his hand over his mouth for the moment when Cordell has to interrupt and say, tired-sounding still, "Sorry, guys, I have to go," and the goodbyes have to be quick, and then that's it, for another week.

The first time Liam sees him when he's Duke it's a shock to the system. Seven months in and the reporting agent says that Walker missed his check-in. Walker—that's what they all call him, even when Liam's in the room with them. There's a small frenzy in the operation office. Graves calls for Cordell's head, predictably at this point. James, trying again to calm her down, but looking a little like he agrees. Liam leaves the office unnoticed and walks outside to feel cold air on his face and feel less—how he feels—and there's a text, on his phone, from an unknown number. The Alibi, Driskill ST, thirty minutes. Come alone.

Ridiculously illicit. Liam takes off his suit-jacket and tie and ruffles his hair into something unprofessional and goes. It's hard to park—Monday night football—and inside is the opposite of his scene but he finds a seat at the bar. A girl in a too-tight orange t-shirt gives him a once-over and he smiles tightly, ignores her, drinks a watery beer, and almost exactly on the thirty-minute mark someone sits down next to him and it's—not his brother.

Duke Culpepper was the fake name they picked. Originally from Texas but had some misdemeanors that made Texas unfriendly so he'd been hiding out in Tucson for a few years, working the rodeo there. Not dangerous but willing to get up to something that was, and he looks the part. He smells like sweat and horse manure and hay and some shitty, awful aftershave, and there's a bruise on his jaw like someone suckerpunched him, and he doesn't look at Liam but smiles sweet at the bartender and says, with a fake low drawl, "Darlin', I wouldn't mind a shot of bourbon, when you have a chance."

Jesus, Liam thinks. The bartender has an expression like Cordell slid a hand down the front of her jeans and made her the happiest woman alive—the shot takes about ten seconds to arrive, when Liam's been waiting for a second beer for five minutes. Cordell knocks it back in one motion and says, "Again, and—" and he turns, like he noticed Liam for the first time, "another round for my friend, here. We're celebratin'."

She blinks, notices Liam's empty glass. While the next round's being prepared Liam raises his eyebrows and plays his part. "What are we celebrating?"

"Got a new job," Cordell says—but no—it's Duke, who's saying it, Duke who's drawling lazy and has his hat cocked at an off-angle and who's got a bandana tied around his wrist which for some goddamn reason is working the whole, hot-ass look.

"Congrats," the bartender says, and Duke grins wide and winks at her and downs the second shot, letting out a little whoop. "Another?"

"Better make it a double this time, sweetheart," Duke says, and Liam puts his hand on the warm lean stretch of thigh knocking against his under the bar and squeezes, very lightly, a warning, and sees Cordell's eyes tighten just slightly, and sees how his shoulders round out, like he's ready to get in a fight. Cordell takes a deep breath and toasts the bartender, but turns to look at Liam, face a grinning glad mask. "Got a new girl, too. Real pretty."

The bartender's disappointment would be funny, any other time. "Your lucky day, then, huh?" Liam says. Cordell's knee presses hard into his under the bar. "Girl got a name?"

"Miss Twyla Jean," Cordell says, almost crooning it, and Liam raises his eyebrows—he thought they had embarrassing Texas names—and then Cordell downs the double-shot, grimacing at the sting, and then says, much quieter so that only Liam can hear: "All it took was me making it eleven seconds on a bull and she took me straight to bed."

Liam takes a deep breath. Cordell's jaw flexes, in the silence, and he puts the empty shot glass on the bar. "Thanks for celebrating with me," he says, and slides off the barstool, backwards. He grips Liam's shoulder so hard that it actually hurts. "Gotta get back. Job won't do itself."

"Godspeed," Liam says, toasting with his beer, and Cordell gives him a tight smile and tugs his cap and walks out of the bar, taking with him the smell of the stables and his too-tight jeans and this sensation under Liam's gut that's murky and dangerous, unsettled. His shoulder hurts. It's only after he's written down Twyla Jean's name and texted it to James, and gone home to the apartment where Bret's still bitching about the décor, and taken a shower, and pressed his forehead against the cold tile, that he realizes that Cordell was wearing a fucking Texas Rangers cap. The absolute bastard.

The night he hears from Cordell again he has a fight with Bret. The same fight, worked over the same way. Bret hates Texas. He hates being away from his friends. He hates the politics and the food and how Liam's always with his family. He doesn't want to go to family dinner at the ranch because he's sure Liam's dad hates him. "He doesn't hate you," Liam says, for the fifth time, but to be honest he's not sure. Daddy never seems to like Bret that much, either. Cordi's never met him and Liam wonders, like he's wondered many times, if they'd get along, at all. Wonders if that'd be a dealbreaker and then wonders, washing dishes while Bret watches MSNBC in chilly silence, if the fact that he's wondering if it would be a dealbreaker makes it a dealbreaker, after all.

The text comes as a relief. Annunziata's. He dresses down more carefully than the first time. It's a weird spot, on the outskirts of town where it feels less like Austin than like a suburb. Karaoke and Italian food and mostly-fake cowboys slapping their knees to the absolutely horrific song being sung—very suburb. And there, at a table right by what passes for a stage: Cordell. But, no: Duke, Duke Culpepper, with his arm slung around the shoulders of Twyla Jean and his lips on her ear, grinning, wild. It catches Liam's breath like it did the first time. Duke, confident in his body and happy and having a good time, easy. Hot. Jesus, Liam doesn't get how it's so hot.

He waits in the backroom and watches Cordell shoves his face into the water. It's disturbing how panicked he is, once he's Cordell again and not Duke. "You have to," he's saying—babbling—"You have to tell them, they're going to kill people, you can't let them go through with it—" but of course that's not either of their decision and Liam can't help. It's awful, an awful awful feeling. His big brother looking to him for an answer he can't give. Cordell pushes his hair back from his face and puts his hat back on and looks miserable but he goes back, he sits right back down with that girl and lets her slide her hand down his thigh up the inseam of his jeans and Liam watches from the corner of the bar, where he won't be seen, drinking a beer he doesn't want, seeing his brother be someone who's not his brother. Maybe someone his brother could have been. They're going to sleep together, tonight. Liam knows it. They've been fucking for three months. Is it easy, he wonders. It shouldn't be, for Cordell, but maybe for Duke it is.

He goes home to Bret and wakes him up, and apologizes for the earlier fight, and kisses him, and gets Bret on his belly, and fucks him that way, a little hard, kissing the back of his neck, making Bret gasp and flinch and groan, delighted. "Where did that come from," Bret says, lazy and satisfied, and when he falls asleep Liam takes a shower and then only then calls James, from the hall outside their apartment door, leaning with his forehead against the wall. The bank location has been obvious since Cordell reported about Twyla Jean; the only thing that wasn't certain was the time. It'll be fine, James says, firm, and hangs up on Liam to coordinate with the rest of the team now that Agent Walker has finally come back in from the cold, and Liam stands there with his eyes closed in the hall and thinks, yes. Yes, it'll be fine.

After the bank—after the clean-up—Graves debriefs Cordell for a long time. It borders on unlawful interrogation at a certain point but Liam doesn't dare intervene when she's this furious—he can't risk being taken off the case. It takes James making a call to her supervisor at the field office, who then calls her and pulls her out of the room, for Cordell to be given a reprieve, and Liam goes in to the conference room and finds Cordell still in the stupid black hoodie stained with Crystal West's blood, his head in his hands, breathing with his mouth open like he can't get enough air.

"Cordi," Liam says, and Cordell shakes his head. Liam licks his lips and checks the hall. No one's guarding them—they wouldn't, because Walker's one of their own—and he says, "Get up." Cordell looks up at him, finally. "Come on, quick before she gets back. Come with me."

Cordell follows him. Down the hall, left to go through the atrium instead of the bullpen, then through the glass doors to the hall to, at last, the men's room, and Cordell stands in the middle of the tile blinking until Liam nods at the sinks and says, "Do it."

He's sloppier about it, this time. His hair hangs dripping in front of his face. He pushes it off his forehead and looks up at himself, in the mirror, panting a little. Water drips off his nose.

Liam brings him paper towels and he dries his face. "You should take that off," Liam says, and Cordell looks down at his clothes like he has no idea what he's wearing and only just realized, and tears off the hoodie in an awkward tangle. Underneath his t-shirt is black so Liam can't tell if it's stained. The big silver cross swings from his neck.

"What happened," Cordell says. A croak.

"Graves didn't tell you?" Liam says, and then bites his tongue. Obviously not. "Clint and Crystal are both dead. Clint at the bank. Crystal crashed the car. They think she passed out. Blood loss." Cordell nods, tight, looking away. These are his friends, Liam reminds himself. These are the people he knew, the only people he really talked to, for almost a year. "Two more people died at the bank. Twyla wasn't there and we don't have information to tie her to the job. I don't know where Jaxon is but we have people looking. They're still trying to recover the stolen money."

"Graves did tell me that much," Cordell says, and turns around, leaning his ass against the sink. It's slowly draining, behind him. "I think she wants to arrest me since she can't arrest them."

"I think so, too," Liam says, and Cordell smiles a little. He looks like he hasn't slept all year. "You did your job. It's over."

"It's not over," Cordell says, immediately. He drags his hand through his hair. "Graves made that clear. The money's still missing and Twyla and Jax are in the wind."

"And Duke's being sent to jail," Liam says. "So his part in the Rodeo Kings gang is over."

Cordell wipes his fingers over his mouth. He's still wearing that bandana around his wrist. Liam wants to take it off of him. Throw it away, burn it. "Duke Culpepper, common criminal," Cordell says, drawling it a little.

"Never liked him anyway," Liam says, and Cordell smiles, dropping his head. Liam touches his shoulder, grips his neck. "Hey. Means you get to come home. The kids will be over the moon."

"Yeah," Cordell says. He brackets a loose hand around Liam's wrist and nods. "Yeah. Can't wait."

His smile faded, as soon as Liam said it. Liam thinks about that, for that whole night, and for the whole next day, after, when James tells him that Cordell put in for one week's leave. "You talked to him?" Liam says, and James shakes his head, says, "He called Connie. I think he still doesn't even know I'm the captain."

He tells Mama and Daddy that Cordell will be home next Wednesday. Stella's frowning, not eating her dinner. "I saw that bank robbery on the news," she says. Auggie's big-eyed, watching, next to her. "Was that Dad's big case?"

"It was," Liam says, and Auggie's eyes get bigger. "But there's a debriefing period. We need to make sure his undercover identity doesn't have any loose ends that'll tie him back to his real one."

Daddy's eyes narrow and Mama's quiet. Liam got pretty good at lying, over the years, but he never was quite able to fool them.

He calls Cordell the next day. "Tell me where you are," he says, and Cordell doesn't answer for a long moment, letting the silence stretch out over the cell line. Liam considers it a victory that he even answered the phone.

He has a room at the Fairmont, on the fifteenth floor. Liam knocks and it's a minute before the door opens. Cordell's in bare feet, jeans, an ACL t-shirt. Liam follows him in and the room is—nicer than Liam's current apartment, that's for sure. King bed, outstanding view. "Wow," Liam says, and Cordell says, "Better than the Super 8 in Kermit," sort of sarcastic, and then sits down on the bed like he can't stand up anymore.

Liam doesn't sit. He doesn't think he's really invited, even if Cordell let him in the door. "I told them next Wednesday," he said. "Mom and Dad, and the kids. A week. Do you think that'll be enough time?"

"Honestly?" Cordell says, and doesn't elaborate.

There's a table, with four chairs, like a dining area. On it a box, like one of the evidence boxes from the office. Liam walks over and tips back the lid and: there's Duke Culpepper. The striped shirt he wore when Liam met him at Annunziata's. That was—god, only three days ago. A plastic bottle of aftershave. The cross necklace. The gun. Liam picks it up and checks the revolving chamber—that one bullet, still ready. It makes him nauseous just like it did the first time.

"I know you're probably not okay," Liam says. Understatement, he thinks, of the century. He closes the box and pushes it away, toward the center of the table. When he turns around Cordell's holding the beer in one hand and playing with a poker chip, in the other. "I know you're going to need some time. But when you're done, we need you back. The kids, and Mom and Dad. And me."

"C'mon, you don't need anybody, Stinker," Cordell says, with the barest thread of levity. "You climb right up to the top of the barn all by yourself, when no one's around to stop you."

Liam pauses, confused by the subject change. Surprised, then. "You were there for that?" he says, and Cordell shrugs, one corner of his mouth lifting.

When Liam was eleven, and Cordell was at college, and the world hadn't yet turned over on its head. It was early August and his school hadn't started, and Daddy and Mama had gone over to the feed store to pick up a truckload for the horses. He was bored, and tired of reading, and he'd gone out to the barn and looked up at it and thought about how Cordell had done it, at his age or maybe even younger, and if Cordell could then Liam could, too, if he set his mind to it. It wasn't even all that hard, once he was looking careful for the places to set his feet. He sat down on the top of the barn and looked out over the ranch—and further, over the where the road into the ranch pushed out into the hills, down toward the town. He wondered how far he could really see, to the horizon.

"Swung by to pick up my football stuff," Cordell says, now. "Em parked on the other side of the house and I didn't think anyone was home, until I looked out the back. You were up there just—taller than anything." He shrugs. "See? Didn't need my help after all."

"I wouldn't have climbed it if you hadn't dropped me on my head," Liam says, and Cordell snorts, shakes his head. Liam bites the inside of his cheek and crouches, and Cordell's forced to look at him or be ridiculous and so Cordell looks at him. Liam reaches out and gets his hand, the hand with the poker chip, and squeezes it, and Cordell swallows and squeezes back. The edges of the plastic bite into Liam's hand. "Come back," he says.

Cordell takes a deep breath. "I will," he says. "I promise, Liam."

Liam stands up and hugs him, around the shoulders, and walks out of the room. He takes the elevator back to the lobby and steps out into the sunshine, and takes a deep breath, and calls Bret to arrange lunch. Cordell's promises. Fifty-fifty, anymore, that it ends up being true. Liam decides to believe him. He's hardheaded. He might as well be hardheaded and optimistic about it.

#ffcc #walker #walker texas ranger #walker fic #my writing #if anyone ever needed an in-depth character study of liam #...here it is

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