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#[gotta assure my little park park that he's my number one]
hooned · 9 months
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he's an employee from abroad everyone, take notes.
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twoidiotwriters1 · 2 years
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Copycat: Origins —(Marvel Fem!Oc)
Words: 2,377
Phase Three Masterlist
Previous Chapter // Next Chapter
Listen to: ‘Conversations’ -by Andrew & Veda
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xxii: Hope
Nine months after that night, Cat's life was finally getting better. 
She could control her mimicking, she didn't feel the need to kill anyone. Her anger had subsided until it was just a tiny thing lurking at the back of her mind.
She'd long forgotten her grief and was more content with her current situation. It wasn't perfect, but suitable. The only thing she could ask out of life.
Pietro was currently in New York, enjoying the last week of vacation, so she decided to pay him a visit. She parked Steve's bike in front of the place and entered the building in quite a jovial mood.
"P.J!" She placed her keys in the bowl and took off her jacket.
Pietro showed up half-dressed and looking agitated, Cat didn't notice.
"Hey!" She smiled. "Wanna grab dinner? That Mexican place we went to on my birthday was open, just gotta pee real quick..."
"Copy—"
"Dinner's on me!"
Pietro blinked in confusion. "You have money?"
"I got a job!" She walked past him. "As a secretary at Nelson and Murdock— it's a..."
She heard something falling inside Pietro's room and her gaze landed on a boy's figure sitting on the bed— Harley's eyes widened and he jumped out of it, closing the door harshly. Cat didn't try to open it, she returned to the living room, where Pietro was waiting with a look of guilt.
"Is Harley Keener in your bedroom?" She whispered.
"...yes."
"The guy you said you didn't like?"
"I said we weren't friends."
"The guy I lost my virginity with?"
He gasped. "I thought that was Peter!"
"Peter never touched me that way!" Her eyes widened. "I can assure you Harley did more than just hold my hand!"
"Well, you guys are just friends now," Pietro said defensively. "From what he told me you're trying to fuck a guy that could be your father..."
"You little shit," She said, no longer whispering. "I always thought it'd be MJ!"
"She was just a friend!"
"Bring your ass here, Junior! But please put on a pair of pants before you do!"
"Not like you haven't seen that before," Pietro muttered. "It's not like I planned it! Unlike the time you slept with him!"
"The first time, maybe," She replied under her breath.
"The first time?!" Pietro exclaimed.
"Let's not go into detail!" Harley interrupted their banter stumbling into the room. "Honestly Stray, it's not like I cheated on any of you..."
"That's not the problem, you pig," Cat approached threateningly. "You guys fucked before I was back on Earth?"
"Once."
"And you still slept with me when I returned?" Her voice came out as a squeak.
"You slept with her again?" Pietro asked in the same tone.
"Slut behavior," Cat sentenced.
"Look who's talking!" Harley scowled. "If anyone's a slut here, I think is the person that slept with half of the Galaxy and is trying to fuck Daredevil!"
"Daredevil?" Pietro asked in shock. "That's the guy?!"
She ignored her brother. "Yeah maybe I am, but I can't believe you dared to sleep with the both of us!"
"It wasn't at the same time!"
Copycat gawked, and Pietro decided to step in.
"Alright, let's calm down a little!" He put a hand on her shoulder. "After you left, we bumped into each other and I offered to give him your number but Harley didn't want to step out of line, so I gave him mine instead."
"It was nothing at first— I'd ask him about you all the time, then one day he mentioned he was in town and we went for drinks cause... well..."
"He's not popular at school, guy's a huge nerd even for NYU's standards," Pietro mentioned.
"We got drunk and the next day... we woke up in my place."
"We stopped talking for a while..."
"Then when you came back to Earth it was clear you just wanted to be my friend, so I asked him out."
Cat remained in place without knowing what to say.
"Don't hate us," Her brother pouted. "You've taken interest in someone else, aren't you glad I have a person too?"
She stared at Pietro. "Of course I'm glad, P.J.— I'm just... I remember Harley saying he wasn't interested in being a boyfriend."
"No, he wasn't," Pietro glanced at Harley, she saw a faint blush creeping under his eyes. "But this is different."
Cat giggled. "Pietro Maximoff is in love..."
"Well, I don't know if we should call it that," Harley said promptly.
"I like you," Pietro looked him in the eye. "Very much."
Harley glanced at her and then back at Pietro, he cleared his throat. "We haven't really—"
"We should talk later."
Pietro went back to his room and got dressed, ten minutes later he was back with a pair of jeans and an old Midtown High sweatshirt on.
Now that the shock was wearing off, Cat was starting to feel cheery again. "Well, sorry I crashed your party but since I did, would you like to have dinner with me? I don't mind third-wheeling."
"Where are we going?"
"Dunno, someplace nice. It's a celebration."
Harley sat on the armrest of a chair. "What are we celebrating?"
"My sister got a job," Pietro explained. "As a secretary in... where was it again?"
"A law firm."
"Law firm?" Harley frowned. "The hell are you doing in a place like that?"
"A friend sent me there."
"We're your only friends on Earth," Harley stated.
"I made new friends," She crossed her arms.
"Just one, and you're trying to sleep with him—"
"Alright, smartass, you want free drinks or not?"
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Harley said goodbye to the pair and Cat whistled loudly when he kissed Pietro. Now that it was just her and her brother, she felt energized and excited, once more the world was hers to control.
"I love New York!" Pietro shouted, behind him Cat was chortling. "Great bars, handsome people— Come, Copy!"
He opened his arms and she obeyed by hugging his waist.
"Tell me about the guy you like," He kissed the top of her head. "Is he nice?"
"Very. But I won't describe him to you, or you'll steal him away from me. You're older, he wouldn't reject you as he did with me..."
"He rejected you?" Pietro frowned. "Why?"
"Because we fight crime together... because he's bad for me, or that's what he keeps saying. He knows about my issues, so he's worried that I might slip back into the wrong path if we date."
"Ah, so he's not rejected you," The young man smiled. "Not really."
"Oh, he's done it. He doesn't want me but he's too polite to turn me down. I know it."
"I don't think anyone ever dared to say no to you before..."
She groaned. "I don't like it when people look away."
"You're a little sick in the head," Pietro patted her shoulder and burped. "But I love you. I'm sure he'll end up loving you too."
"Oh, please... love is useless when you've decided to live like me," She gestured vaguely. "Flashy suits... hidden identities... it's just asking to be miserable."
"Are you miserable, Copy?"
Pietro's drunken state did not stop him from getting worried, she gave him a bright smile.
"No, because I'm not in love. These are my best years, Speedy— I'm happy."
He kissed the top of her head once more. "I'm happy too, things are finally falling into place. It'll be nothing but good news from now on, mark my words."
"You're drunk," She grinned. "But you know, I'll believe you."
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"How does this work..?" She mumbled in frustration.
"Need help?"
Matt was leaning against the doorframe with a smirk on his face. If she thought he was good looking as Daredevil, the sight was nothing compared to his typical attire.
"I'm not stupid," she began with mortification, "but I don't understand your coffee maker. It's so old... at the compound, I don't have to make my own coffee from scratch..." she felt her cheeks burning.
Matt moved her to the side with a gentle hand. "I guess a hero like you never worried about the little things. It was all about being the perfect agent, right?"
"Kinda," Cat watched his hands while she spoke. "But learning to do the little things can help me understand people better, that's what one of my instructors used to say."
"How considerate," He smiled.
"Oh you find it funny, do you?" She nudged his ribs. "I felt so out of place the first time I had to interact with kids my age... I usually didn't know what they were talking about..."
"You've come a long way," Matt assured her. "I think you're completely normal. I can't give you my opinion on your looks—"
"I'd like to hear it, though..." She replied playfully.
He handed her a warm cup of coffee. "If that's the case—"
Matthew didn't finish his sentence, he tilted his head to the right. Cat was about to ask what was going on when he lifted one finger.
"Listen," He whispered.
Light footsteps. She heard a gun clashing against a belt buckle. The person —a man, judging by the way he was breathing— was dragging his feet a bit too much. He was wearing combat boots, he was some kind of guard.
"Is he bad news?" She whispered back.
"I think so," Matthew placed one hand on her waist and moved her, gently pressing her against a wall so the stranger couldn't see her. "He's been pacing outside the office for a minute..."
"I'll handle it."
"No."
"You think he's here to ask how our day's going?" She frowned.
Since Matt was blind and Cat had no problem seeing in the dark, they didn't have the lights on when it was just the two of them during the evenings. The guard was standing at the far corner outside the hall hoping to hear any noise confirming they were inside.
"Wait," Her friend insisted. "He'll go if we stay quiet..."
"Or maybe he'll kick down the door to catch us— or you, to be precise," She scowled. "This feels like a direct attack. I thought Fisk had forgotten about you?"
"Me too."
"You're not that good at hiding, you know? Maybe he knows you're back."
He hushed her with his free hand, Matthew's fingertips brushed her lips and she immediately stopped talking.
"He's walking up to the door..."
Copycat was incapable to look away. She stared at his features from up close and for some reason, she wondered if Peter would've been as handsome had he lived enough to turn thirty.
"Calm down, Cat."
"What?"
"Your heartbeat is distracting me."
She gulped. "Sorry."
Matt couldn't stop himself from teasing. "I thought you were over me?"
"Over you? I was never under, unfortunately," She played dumb. "This is a stressful situation, Matthew."
"This is not how your heart beats when you're scared."
"That's ridiculous. I'm getting rid of the creep."
Cat squirmed her way out and managed to give three steps forward, but Matt pulled her to his side just as quickly. Drops of coffee splashed on her skin and she hissed. Matt put a hand over her mouth and clenched his jaw.
"Stay here, I'll take care of this."
Cat moved his hand away. "Fine! I'll sit on my ass and wait here like the Mary sue you want me to be."
Matt sent a severe glare her way, though he didn't meet her eyes, he rarely did. "I'm trying to safe-keep your identity."
"I don't have one," She said matter-of-factly.
Cat moved away a second time, Matt caught her wrist.
"...Don't kill him."
"When will you trust me?" Cat's voice sounded hurt this time. "I don't break my promises."
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A moment after hearing noises, the man drew out his gun and reached for the doorknob, but someone spoke behind him.
"That's not how you make an appointment."
The lightbulb broke into bits and he was left in complete darkness, a shadow formed in front of him and hit him with a large cane.
"I don't care who sent you," The voice growled, "or what's the point of your visit, but if you ever follow any of them again..."
He fell backwards and several pieces of glass punctured his hands.
"You'll regret it."
When the shadow's foot made contact with his face, he fell limply on the floor. Copycat seized the gun and took out the bullets. She picked the man up with a bit of difficulty, and after dropping the unconscious figure in the alleyway behind their building, she came back to the office and turned off the stealth mode of her suit.
Matt handed her a —sadly cold— cup of coffee. "Well done."
"How does it feel to be the Mary sue for a change?"
He grinned. "I'll let you do the dirty work more often. You like it and I don't hate sitting on my ass from time to time, I could get used to it."
"I'll make it as dirty as you want, Matthew, just say the word."
He shook his head. "Drink your coffee, we've loads of work to do."
Cat sat in front of her desk and only looked up when she noticed Matthew's attention was still on her.
"For a blind man you sure know how to stare," She pointed out. "What's on your mind, Luci?"
He didn't speak right away, instead, he moved and sat in front of her. He took a sip of his coffee and looked up to a point on her left.
"It's not that I don't trust you," He began. "I decided to trust you the night we met. I had no choice... but you keep reminding me of someone I knew, and I don't want you to end the same way."
"That's a vague argument," Cat sighed. "Who were they? A bad guy?"
He smiled a little. "If I tell you, you'll get the wrong idea."
"Ahh... so it was a woman. Did she share your lifestyle and, unlike me, could not stop killing?"
"To be fair she was older than you and she went through a lot. It was too late to change."
"Maybe," She admitted. "But you don't have to worry about me, Matthew. You found me right on time."
The man drank more of his coffee. "You know I can tell when you lie, right?"
"Am I lying?" Cat responded with genuine curiosity. "I'm sorry, I can't tell the difference. This is just how I do things. I repeat them until they're true— and trust me, I want this to be the truth."
Joy was making its way back into her life. Her brother was about to graduate, the whole world was healing, slowly building into a bright, relatively peaceful future. Tomorrow looked more attractive now that she had a plan.
Nonetheless, happiness is a flimsy companion, and it can only be maintained as long as stability deems it proper. As soon as things start to shift, it's extremely hard to keep it going.
For Copycat, such a struggle began the moment Scott Lang showed up.
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Next Chapter —>
Taglist.
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nerdzzone · 2 years
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The Sweetest Devotion
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Summary: Pregnancy is hard work. The fatigue, the morning sickness and the strange new aches and pains are bad enough, but the nerves about how a new baby will change your family dynamic can be just as tough. Luckily, for Chris and Whitney, the excitement and love they have for their little baby on the way far outweighs any struggles that could pop up and they’re hopeful that Grayson will feel the same as they navigate their way through the first expansion of their little family.
Chris Evans x OFC
18+
Part of the Once Bitten/More Hearts series
Part One
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Part Two
“Are you sure you’re up for this?”
“Definitely,” I assured Chris, resting the phone on my shoulder as I put on some mascara to try and hide the fact that I’d spent half the morning throwing up. “I’ll be sitting on a bench near a playground, there’s very minimal exertion involved in that.”
“And you’re not nauseous anymore?”
“Not at the moment, but I’ll take some mint tea with me just in case, it seems to help.”
“Okay,” Chris sighed. “Well, don’t push yourself too hard. I gotta run, but I hope you two have fun.”
“We will,” I smiled. “Good luck at your meeting.”
Chris mumbled off a quick ‘thanks’ and a ‘goodbye’ before we hung up. I set my phone down on the counter by the bathroom sink as I finished my makeup quickly, feeling almost as anxious about our outing as Chris sounded, although probably for different reasons.
Almost a week and a half after I’d received Jake’s mom’s phone number, Grayson and I were headed to meet them at the park. Chris had returned to L.A. for a few meetings and work commitments and since I was quite nervous about how Grayson would handle the separation, I’d figured an out of school playdate with his friend would help keep him distracted. So far though, he seemed to be doing okay. There had been a few tears at bedtime despite the fact that Chris had facetimed us, but for the most part he’d adjusted well to his dad’s absence which was reassuring as there were probably many more to come over the next few months.
Once I was ready, I called for Grayson and did my best to hurry him out the door.
-
When we got to the park, Jake and Annie were already there and Grayson shot off to join his friend on the playground. As I’d never met Annie before, I had no idea what she looked like and felt a slight nervousness bubble up as I looked around the park to see if I could guess which of the many mothers dotted around the benches was the one I was looking for. I was just about to pull out my phone and call her when I saw someone on the other side of the playground frantically waving their arms at me. I waved back to assure her that I’d seen before hurrying over.
“Hey,” I smiled. “Sorry, we’re late. Grayson couldn’t find his shoes and then we had a fifteen minute argument about whether it was warm enough to wear just a t-shirt out today or if he should listen to me and wear a sweater.”
Annie chuckled as she gave me a sympathetic look.
“Don’t worry about it, I know that feeling far too well.”
“It’s so hard some days, isn’t it?” I sighed. “But I’m so glad you suggested this. Honestly, Grayson talks about Jake nonstop. It’s so sweet that they’ve become such good friends.”
“Oh, absolutely!” Annie smiled, but as her gaze drifted over to the kids, it faltered slightly and as she turned her eyes back to me she looked almost nervous. “Jake was in preschool last year too, but it...wasn’t great, to say the least.”
Her admission sent a jolt of nerves through me. Grayson had settled into preschool well and loved it, but it was every parent’s worry that their child would have a hard time at school and the anxiety was still lingering in the back of my mind.
“Really? How come?”
It was immediately clear - from the strain on her face - that this topic was not easy for her to talk about. She was quiet for a moment as if she regretted saying anything in the first place, but just as I was about to tell her that we didn’t have to talk about it, she explained.
“He was bullied. Really badly. He was one of the youngest kids in the group and the older ones just had it out for him for no apparent reason.”
My heart sank as I looked over to where Grayson and Jake were happily racing down a slide. No child deserves to be bullied, but Jake was such a sweet kid, it was hard to see how he could have done anything to make himself a target.
“That’s awful,” I empathized. “I think that was my biggest concern when we sent Gray to school.”
“It was really bad,” Annie nodded, her eyes looking glassier just from talking about the subject. “He was miserable and the teachers were no help at all. They intervened, of course, whenever they saw it, but nothing they said or did seemed to dissuade the other kids from picking on him. He screamed and cried every day when we dropped him off and he always looked so defeated when we picked him up. We toughed it out for a couple of months, hoping that it would get resolved, but eventually we had to pull him out.”
“I don’t blame you. I mean, preschool is super beneficial, but he’s not going to get any of those benefits if he was just getting tortured every day.”
“Exactly,” Annie agreed before a smile slid back onto her face. “But that’s why I’m so grateful that he’s made such a good friend in Grayson. When he came home on the first day and was actually happy and telling me that he made a friend, I cried for about half an hour.”
I let out a soft laugh as I sipped the tea that I’d brought with me.
“I almost cried too when Grayson told me and we hadn’t even been through anything like what you had,” I admitted, keeping the fact that it was probably partially due to pregnancy hormones to myself. “But Jake was a huge help for us. Grayson had never been to preschool before and he had a tough time settling in. I don’t know if we would have been able to get him to stay if Jake hadn’t been there to distract him every morning until he got used to us leaving.”
Annie’s smile grew even wider hearing that information and I was glad I could give her some comfort after hearing what a horrible time they’d had the year before.
“Well, it sounds like they’ve both helped each other then.”
“Definitely,” I nodded in agreement. “So, Sandra told me that you guys just moved here recently? Where from? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“We did,” she confirmed. “From Manhattan. I grew up there and it was hard to leave, but my husband got transferred and there’s no denying that this is a more ideal place to raise a family.”
I almost laughed again at how much I could relate to her situation.
“I went through the same thing,” I informed her. “I spent my entire life in L.A. and moved here when I found out I was pregnant with Grayson. I was definitely getting ready for a change, but I was still pretty sad to leave. It seemed like an obvious choice though, this really is a great town for families.”
“Absolutely. We love it here and at least it’s close enough for us that we can get back to the city whenever we feel like it. It must be harder for you being all the way across the country.”
“Sometimes,” I shrugged. “When Grayson was born, it was hard being so far away from my family and with travel being restricted so much for the last couple of years, that was hard too, but we make it work.”
“It’s crazy what we do for our kids, isn’t it?”
“It is,” I smiled. “My life is far more domestic than I would have expected if you asked me ten years ago where I’d be now.”
“I was just talking about that with my husband,” Annie laughed. “We used to be so wild and free and now we’re in bed by ten even on the weekends.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” I agreed before something caught my attention on the playground. “Gray! Keep the sand close to the ground please, you don’t want to get it in anyone’s eyes.”
He shouted back an ‘okay, Mama’ before turning his attention back to the trench that he appeared to be digging with his friend. We watched them quietly for a moment before Annie turned back to me.
“Can I just say, you’re so much nicer than I thought you’d be,” she confessed. “I know it’s horrible and weird, but I Googled you this morning and I was kinda nervous. There’s a lot of mean stuff about you on the internet.”
I snorted a laugh at her observation - knowing that it was a bit of an understatement - but I felt a pang of sadness at the thought of people making their assumptions about me based on the vicious comments online.
“Chris has some very devoted fans who don’t particularly care for me,” I acknowledged. “But it’s good to know that I exceeded expectations. I like to think I’m not as unbearable as they say.”
“Not at all,” Annie insisted, her eyes widening. “I shouldn't have said that, should I? It must be awful to have people talk about you, you don’t want it bringing up like that.”
“It’s fine,” I assured her. “I know what they say about me. I’ve been better lately, but I do scroll through occasionally to see what’s being said.”
“That’s brave,” Annie frowned. “I wouldn’t be able to stand it.”
“Surprisingly, you get used to it,” I shrugged. “When I first met Chris, I found it really hard. As soon as we were spotted in public together, every detail of my life was plastered online within minutes and that was before we were even together.”
A sheepish look came over her face then and I felt a tad apprehensive about what she was going to say next.
“I didn’t want to snoop too much, it felt too invasive, so I am curious about how you two met?” She asked. “I promise I won’t tell anyone anything that you tell me, but you don’t have to answer.”
I smiled at her nervousness and quickly reassured her.
“Oh, I don’t mind talking about it, it’s not like it’s a big secret. I did a photoshoot for one of the Captain American movies and we all went out for drinks afterwards. Chris and I became fast friends after that.”
“Just friends?”
There was a teasing twinkle in her eye and I laughed.
“Friends who were in love with each other, but too stupid to actually talk about it.”
“But then you had Grayson and lived happily ever after?”
“Hardly,” I scoffed. “Then we had Grayson and continued to pretend we were just friends who got carried away one night until the pandemic and impending collapse of the world forced us to have some serious conversations.”
“Wow, really?” Annie asked, seeming genuinely surprised. “I just assumed you’d been together since Grayson was born.”
“No, definitely not. It took us an embarrassingly long time to figure things out,” I admitted with a self-deprecating roll of my eyes. “But now we’re in a really good place. What about you and your husband? How did you two meet?”
“We’re high school sweethearts,” she admitted with a dreamy grin. “We’ve been together for about seventeen years now.”
My eyes widened in surprise. While I planned to spend the rest of my life with Chris, it was hard to imagine being with someone for such a long time, especially through such a complicated time in life as your late teens and twenties. It was an admirable feat and I found myself feeling quite impressed.
“That’s amazing. You guys have been together almost your whole lives.”
“Well, about half,” Annie smiled. “It’s taken a lot of work over the years, but he really is my best friend so we always make it work.”
I paused for a minute, unable to resist reflecting and thinking about my own relationship.
“That’s how I feel about Chris,” I said after a moment of thought. “We obviously had a slow start and we haven’t always made it work, but sometimes you meet someone and just think ‘wow, I need this person in my life’ and that’s how it was when I met Chris.”
“I know exactly what you mean!” Annie agreed. “That’s what I said when I met Jeff. Everyone thought I was just a dumb, lovestruck teenager, but we’ve managed to prove them all wrong.”
“That’s so sweet. Is Jake your only child?”
Annie shook her head and informed me that they had an older child, a daughter, who was seven. She was having a ‘daddy daughter day’ that was apparently going to consist mostly of a dance party and some homemade jewelry crafts. Annie admitted that her husband was a sucker for any quality time with their eldest child and was always quick to get right in even with the girly activities that some dads would avoid. The thought had my stomach fluttering with excitement as I knew Chris would be exactly the same and, even though I didn’t really have a preference, I felt a flicker of hope that we would have a girl.
I hardly had time to dwell on that fact - which was probably a good thing or else I might have blurted out an admission that I wasn’t ready to share - because Annie’s very sweet and enthusiastic energy kept the conversation moving right along. We talked about the various highs and lows of parenting, the things we loved about our children and the things that we found challenging, exchanged stories from before we even dreamed of being parents and talked about the struggle of balancing life as a parent with our own personal needs and goals.
It was so nice to have another mom to chat with, especially one who had a child who was the same age as Grayson. When I first moved to Massachusetts, I’d made one friend who also had children, but over the course of the pandemic, we’d lost touch. I had my friends back in Los Angeles, but none of them had children and while that was nice in many ways, it made it hard to relate about certain things. Hannah was a wonderful and ever present friend, but even as much as she loved Gray and was happy to talk about him, there were certain parent related dilemmas that she just couldn’t understand. So, having someone to talk to who was in a very similar point in their life was refreshing and incredibly comforting.
And Annie was very genuine in her eagerness for us to bond. It was wonderful to be around someone who was as open and unabashed as she was and I was so glad that I’d agreed to meet up for a playdate. We were so caught up in our conversation that it wasn’t until our two, very tired boys came sauntering over that we realized how long we’d been at the park. The kids were very ready to go home by that point so - with a promise to absolutely get together again soon - we parted ways.
-
To my surprise, Chris didn’t call to see how our little outing had gone until after we’d had dinner. He seemed so worried about me in my ‘fragile’ state that I’d assumed he’d call the minute we arrived home, but he managed to play it cool until I was clearing the table after we’d eaten. Grayson’s face lit up when he saw Chris’ picture pop up on the screen and he’d answered it before I even really registered what was happening.
“Daddy!” He cheered. “Hi!”
“Hey, buddy!” Chris greeted him. “Does your ma know that you have her phone?”
“Yes, I do,” I shouted over as I put the last few dishes in the dishwasher. “I’m just cleaning up, we just had dinner.”
“I’m jealous, I’ve been in meetings all day and I’m starved.”
Moving behind Grayson so I was in the frame of the camera, I frowned at that information.
“You should have grabbed a snack before you called.”
“I know, but I wanted to hear all about your playdate!” He explained. “How did it go? Gray, did you have fun with Jake?”
The grin on Grayson’s face stretched even wider.
“I did! I had so much fun!”
“Yeah? What did you do?”
Grayson eagerly launched into a very long winded explanation of his time at the park, but it was nice to see him so excited about his new friendship. Chris was fully engaged, following him through every detailed anecdote and asking all the right questions and making all the right comments. Once Grayson paused to take a breath, Chris turned his attention to me.
“And did Mommy have fun too?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but Grayson pulled a face before shaking his head and answering for me.
“No, she didn’t even play.”
I snorted out a laugh as Chris gasped dramatically.
“She didn’t?!”
“No, she just talked! The whole time!”
“Ohhh,” Chris nodded as if he’d come to a sudden realization. “Sometimes talking is how mommies have fun.”
Grayson’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“But that’s boring.”
“It is not, Mommy did have fun,” I protested, ruffling his hair as I smiled at the bewilderment in his voice. “But anyway, it’s time for somebody to take a bath and get ready for bed.”
Immediately, Gray’s body language shifted. A scowl slid onto his face as he tensed up and shook his head.
“No, I don’t want to.”
“I know, buddy, but it’s getting late and you’ve had a pretty big day.”
Grayson shook his head again, but Chris came to the rescue.
“I’ve gotta go get some food now, Gray,” he informed him, looking just as disappointed as Grayson did to be saying goodbye. “But I can call you again as soon as I wake up tomorrow and there’s only two more sleeps until I’m coming home.”
Grayson hesitated - clearly debating whether or not he should put up more of a fight - but after a moment, he sighed and hung his head.
“Okay…”
It broke my heart to see him look so defeated, but in my tired and slightly nauseous state, I was relieved that he hadn’t argued too much.
“I love you so much, Gray,” Chris assured him. “I miss you a lot and I can’t wait to be home.”
“I love you too, Daddy,” Grayson offered him a sad smile before blowing him a kiss.
Chris looked almost ready to cry just from that sweet little gesture, but he held it together as he blew a kiss back.
“Goodnight, buddy. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight!”
Grayson managed to force out a bit of enthusiasm for their farewell and I hung up the call before scooping him up into my arms.
“Should we have a bubble bath tonight?” I asked Grayson, hoping to soften the blow of saying goodbye to Chris. “With the bubbles that make the water go green?”
A small smile slid onto his face as he nodded and I placed a kiss on the top of his head before carrying him upstairs to get ready for bed.
-
Thankfully, due to the excitement of the day, Grayson was exhausted and made the bedtime process easy by falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. By the time I got back downstairs to where I’d left my phone on the table, I had a text from Chris asking me to call him once Grayson was asleep so I quickly made myself some more mint tea to soothe my stomach before curling up on the couch and doing as he asked.
“Hey, did Gray put up much of a fight?”
“He didn’t,” I assured him, smiling at the concern in his greeting. “I think his big day really tired him out.”
“I bet,” Chris chuckled. “But it went well?”
“Yeah, it was great! The boys had a great time and it was really nice to meet Jake’s mom, Annie.”
“Yeah? She’s nice?”
“Super nice,” I confirmed. “We got along really well and she seems like a really genuine person. I think we’re going to be good friends.”
“That’s great, Win, I’m so proud of you. I’m really glad that you’ve finally made a friend.”
His tone was very condescending, but it was an age old joke with Chris and I knew he was teasing as I scoffed.
“Wow, thanks a lot, jerk.”
“What?” He chuckled. “I’m happy for you! I never thought it would happen.”
The sincerity in his voice had a laugh falling from my lips, but I rolled my eyes.
“I have lots of friends, Chris. Maybe you’ve just never met them because none of them like you.”
“Oh, ouch,” Chris laughed. “Too close to home. That’s probably true.”
“No, it’s not,” I insisted. “I was just teasing.”
“And so was I,” Chris assured me. “But I’m really glad it went well. How are you feeling?”
“Exhausted,” I sighed, knowing there was no point in trying to hide it even though I felt bad about making him worry. “And a bit nauseous again. I don’t know what I’d do without mint tea these days.”
“Well, at least you’ve found something that helps. Did you eat dinner?”
“A little bit, but not as much as I probably should have,” I admitted. “I couldn’t stomach anything at lunch before we went to the park, but the smell of everything just makes me feel sick.”
Chris let out a sigh and I felt a wave of guilt as I knew that he was busy in L.A. and didn’t need to be wasting his time fretting about my health.
“Are you still losing weight?”
“A little, but I did some research and I really do think it’s normal and should pass,” I insisted. “I have an appointment with my doctor next week and I’ll ask her about it then.”
“Alright,” Chris sighed again. “I’m sorry, Win. I hate to think of you feeling so crappy.”
“It’s fine, it’ll all be worth it in the end,” I smiled, repeating the phrase I’d been telling him a lot lately. “How are things going over there?”
Thankfully, that question was enough to distract Chris from his worries as he very excitedly told me about all the work he’d been doing - most notably the work for the Buzz Lightyear project he was working on. He was like a kid at Christmas as he rambled on about it and I was more than happy to soak in his joy and offer my support when needed. It was a dream come true for him and I was so proud of him for taking it on.
Sooner than I would have liked, he caught on to my yawns as the excitement of the day had been too much for my already exhausted body. With almost as much reluctance as Grayson, I accepted his assurance of a phone call in the morning and said ‘goodnight’ before heading off to bed with a full heart.
Things were going well for our little family and to say I was grateful was an understatement. Grayson was thriving in school and making friends, I’d connected with another mom who seemed wonderful and Chris was getting opportunities that he’d always dreamed of. The baby that would be added to our family in just a few short months was the icing on the cake and I fell asleep wondering how on earth we got so lucky.
-
Part Three
Tags:  @maggotzombie​ @moonlacebeam​ @mizzzpink​ @zaylaugh @flowery-mess​ @flowerjewels​ @njrronaldo7​ @hockeychick10​ @partypoison00​ @theladybiers​ @sidepieces​ @firoozehmoon @patzammit​ @sparkledfirecracker​ @mytbel0st​ @chvntelle-99 @mjey12​ @denisemarieangelina​ @elrw24​ @findthebeautyinbreakdowns​ @trottae17​ @annvail​
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andieperrie18 · 3 years
Text
Your Endgame
So this is requested by@raginghellfire. I haven’t written in a while due Uni and busy classes but I hope I did a good job on this. UwU Dami might be a bit OOC but I really think he is a passionate lover when he falls in love.
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Bruce Wayne was one tough cookie. Unlike Tony, he held shackled himself with the responsibility of protecting Gotham city from its baddies that he barely let himself enjoy his life. He too cares for children very much but he wasn't as hands-on being there for them. He wasn't always there in those best events in their life to congratulate them that greatly hurt them. It would seem that he just adopted these children as soldiers for his endless war with crime, that they were nothing but expendable assets. But he does love them and had just recently been trying to reconnect with all of them.
Tony Stark had always let his child have free reign over their life but he never leaves the passenger seat. He will always be by their side no matter what choice they make. He was never strict as he was a free soul but he grows and understands responsibility everyday after returning from Afghanistan after being held captive. He wasn't a perfect father but he did try for Y/n, good thing for him is that she understands responsibility earlier made it easy for him to be there for him.
Bruce Wayne was notorious for being a play boy, same goes to Tony Stark. Both men has had another of flings that the paparazzi didn't miss to see. It took quite a while before two of them finally found out the true meaning of true love. The one decided to settle down while the other chose his job over attaining a lifelong happiness and peace.
Some of the Wayne kids also had their own flings through out their lives. Some had more the two and some, just one. Just one cause when the second came, they were their endgame.
---
The bright city lights of Paris slightly seeped in the glass panes of the balcony doors of the room. Across it was a king sized bed with undone sheets and two people underneath the high quality comforter. Damian and Y/n sat with backs against the head board, the latter former resting his against the latter's figure. His head slightly buried on her neck as her fingers combed through his bed hair her other hand around his bare chest.
"I'm pretty sure that photo reached them already," her voice echoed around the slightly dim room.
Damian hummed, "It did, which earned me quite a number of miss calls from my family,"
Y/n giggled that he found contagious making him do the same.
"I'm going back to Gotham in two days but I don't think I'm ready to leave your side yet," he snuggled his face on her neck, placing butterflies kisses on them. Her eyes close, a flutter vibrates within her chest as she pulled his head closer. Placing her lips on his head. Damian pulled her seated figure closer to his own, his face snuggling closer to her skin.
"Can I just postpone the flight for another month?" he mumbled, sending tickles on her skin making her giggle.
"Dami, you said that 2 months ago and you already bought a ticket home,"
Damian never whines but after almost two years of being in a relationship, there are certain childishness he had suddenly unlock being with her. Y/n laughed at his childish wiles as it send tingles in his stomach, he loves it when she laughs because of him.
"Besides, I already scheduled mine and my seat is next to yours, you can't expect me to have an empty seat beside me?"
Damian's head shot up from her neck, his eyes staring at her. Y/n bit her lip containing a fit of giggles after seeing his eyes sparkle like a child getting a new toy. He slumped his faced between breast.
"I really love you."
"And I really love you too, Dami,"
---
And probably the biggest public figures is youngest Wayne child and the eldest Stark Child. The most controversial couple that reached ears all over the world. No one knew of their relationship as until the paparazzi caught a picture of them kissing at Champ de Mars near the Eiffel tower. The news made use of the quote, "Pictures speaks a thousand words" rather well. Some are heartbroken by the news but the biggest people taken surprise by the news were the Wayne's.
Clicks and flashes surrounded the long trail of red carpet that lead to entrance of the Wayne manor that held another gala. This time it was a celebratory occasion for the youngest Wayne's return from a long vacation that he took a almost 2 years ago. A break he took after a rather peaceful yet melancholic break up with titan's member. Damian suddenly decided to toss the towel and told his Father that he doesn't want to be like Bruce, alone and brooding. He needs to breath for a while to which his father did not hesitate to agree. Bruce loves his children, he may not show it but he does.
A Grey matte Porsche 911 parked its way at the end of the carpet making some of the photographers to  it, awaiting the celebrities that will emerge.
"Do you think they'll like me? I mean Dad isn't really in good terms with Bruce Wayne you know," Y/n  eyed the silhouette of the Wayne manor and the crowding paps at the cat walk. This wasn't the first time she came to a Wayne gala, its just that this time she was going to be introduced as Damian Wayne's girlfriend.
The emerald eyed Wayne gently took her chin to meet his eyes. A gentle smiles grew from his lips.
"They will, beloved. I know they will because I love you," his voice said laced a such a tender tone that no one ever thought he could have.
A love sick grin emerged from her once doubting expression before she pressed leaned for a quick peck to which he returned in an instant. They pulled away with both of them sharing the same cheek tinted grins.
Damian emerged from the driver's seat followed by the loud camera clicks and calling reporters. He simply gave his signature Wayne smile before turning to the other side of the car to where Y/n emerges with the same celebrity like smile that she inherited from her father. From the moment they set foot on the carpet, the paparazzi just got louder and rather pushy that made the guards push them out a little harder.
"Mr. Wayne how'd you meet Ms. Stark?!"
"Miss Stark, how long have you two been together?!"
"Miss Stark look here!!"
"Mister Wayne! Look here!!"
To say that the paparazzi were going crazy would be an understatement, as they were going mad-crazy as the couple walking the catwalk is the biggest confirmation to the news that a union between the Wayne and the Stark has occurred. If they could only get to the couple to ask some, more like a bunch of questions would be the cherry on top of the new news for next day.
Upon entry within the Manor, their arrival turn heads and silenced chatters.
Y/n M/n Stark, the matriarch of the Stark Industries inheriting the nickname, 'Merchant of Death' in Manhattan. She was a much smarter tinker as she assured no such case like her father's long captivity ever happened again and all Stark weapons are heavily protected and can only be handled by the military hands.
Damian Wayne was no CEO but is a COO of the Wayne Enterprises. Helping his brother Tim in managing the affairs in the company. It's bad enough that the male is overdosing himself with caffeine while handling their nightly hero affairs, he was still his brother no matter how much they quarrel. Damian was willing to shoulder long painstaking meetings for him just to let him have a day off.
To see the two of them together would expresses a union.
Their matching outfit theme elevated the curiosity of all the attendants of the gala. Damian's slick three piece burgundy check suit made Damian look sophisticated but neat. Every young lady around the room were welcome to gawk at his figure as he glides with his partner. Y/n's own green gown greatly complimented his with its shade of green, its shape hugging her figure naturally that she loved. Every young man had their eyes on an emerald.
It didn't take long before the couple reached the group of people they are meant to meet. They didn't miss their wide eyes and dropped jaws. Y/n may be a stranger but they could agree that she is a beautiful stranger.It was only when Damian spoke that they have gained awareness of their surroundings.
"Good evening father, everyone. It's nice to see you all again," Damian began with Y/n holding on to his shoulder.
"I gotta say demon spawn you grew quite a lot for just two years," Jason earned a slightly hard nudge from Dick. Damian may have grown but he still has a tick with Jason's nicknames for him.
"Don't mind him Damian, why don't you introduce your company," the eldest said as he slightly push the white streaked hair male behind him that earned a look from his father.
Damian didn't say anything on the nickname thing and proceeded to introduce her which earned quite an awkward atmosphere on his family's side while the couple remained at ease in their presence.
"Stark its nice to finally see you again," Tim entered as he brought his hand out to which the woman took generously.
"Good to see you too Drake, and good evening to you too Mister Wayne,"
Bruce went forward to shake her hand, "How is your father by the way?" he asked.
"He is doing well, he's living by the countryside with my sister and mom," she replied with a smile.
"So he's settling down?" Bruce asked, quite surprised.
"Yes, he said life is short and he intends to spend it living it with us," She continued to which earned a bit of awkwardness with Damian's siblings. It was a rather sensitive topic but they didn't speak of it any further.
---
Damian had to separate himself from Y/n to help Tim a bit on the company. Seated by the bar, with his two brothers and his father, it was quite a company.
"How long have you two been going out?" Dick opened as you turned to him.
"We've been together for almost 1 year and half years, but we didn't started dating until six months later after we met,"
"We're you aware he just got out of a break up?" Jason raised.
Y/n took a sip of her drink, "I did, that's why I didn't let him to be with me until I totally confirmed that I was not a rebound,"
"And how do you know you aren't just a rebound for Rachel Roth?" Dick asked this time.
Bruce didn't say anything as he wasn't very much in touch with his son's relationship, but he did know that he loved her, Damian wouldn't risk his life for anyone if he did. As much as he wanted to stop Dick from pulling a rather sensitive topic on a person he just met especially when that person is someone close to his brother, he wants to know if the girl was just a fling. Y/n was known to have a number of flings before Damian came in to the picture.
"Damian is not mine to claim, whether I am a rebound or not, I still love him, you can try to make me say what we are having is just a fling but I know one thing," her tone was authoritative but calm.
They were doubting Damian's judgement with her relationship with her. Its not like she wasn't aware that he dated a co-worker of his. He was his first love and Y/n knew she might not be his last but she sure prays to whatever ethereal being that they last.
"I love him. Whether you believe me or not, I will always do even if he chooses her over me,"
Damian was her everything.
---
By midnight, Damian said his good byes with his family. He didn’t miss the slight look of sadness in her eyes so he took her away from his brothers' company. Damian was sure that they said something but she chose to protect them by not telling him anything.
When they got to the parking lot as they got to their car, Damian stopped and had Y/n face him. Before she could ask, he had already latched his lips on her. Giving her an ever so passionate kiss they always share. One that he always felt like he was having his first kiss the first time.
Y/n circled her arms around his neck before they broke off, forehead resting against each other.
"I may not know what went on between you and my family by the bar, but I want you to know that I love you. You may not be my first but I am deathly sure that you are my last…" he whispered to her.
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ibis-gt · 3 years
Text
ok ok i got the writing bug again. cam drives luther to the hospital to figure out why he's got Shrinks When Gay Disorder. 2k words.
~~~
“Well, Mr. Algers, from what I can tell you’ve got a very rare, very difficult autoimmune disease. We call it Gulliver’s Hanahaki.”
Luther sits glumly on the examining table, clad in a paper gown. He resists the urge to pick at the edges of it, instead keeping a tight grip on the table. Doctor’s offices always make him fidgety.
“Basically,” Dr. Townsend continues, “when your body encounters a specific form of stress, it will react in an attempt to defend itself, resulting in the reduction of size you’ve been experiencing.”
“So is there… any kind of cure?” Luther asks.
“Well, no. It’s not the kind of disease you cure.”
“Treatment of any kind? Pills I can take, shots, anything to stop it?” An edge of desperation creeps into his voice, the paper covering the table crinkling as his fingers dug into it.
“Nothing I can give you, I’m sorry to say,” Dr. Townsend sighs. “Unfortunately, its rarity means that it’s difficult to study. Any medication is still in the early trial stages and it wouldn’t be ethical for me to prescribe. There are two forms of preventative measures you can take to avoid further episodes, however.”
Luther straightens up from his slump. Thank god, something to get this nightmare to finally end!
“The first is very effective. Since the episodes are triggered by attraction to another individual and the anxiety resulting from that attraction, if you are able to avoid interactions with that individual altogether, no further anxiety will be triggered.”
Luther deflates, shoulders sagging. “That won’t work,” he mumbles. “We live in the same building.”
Dr. Townsend nods sympathetically. “I thought it might be something like that,” he sighs. “Your other option is to confess.”
Luther reels back like he’s been slapped. “Confess?”
“Yes. These episodes are made worse by bottling up your attraction or attempting to deny it. This causes the stress to compound and become more intense. If you admit your feelings to the individual you’re attracted to, then you will remove some of that stress and your episodes will be less frequent and less severe.”
“But- but that would only stress me out more!” Luther says, throwing his arms out to the sides. “I mean, I mean what if he says no? What if he says yes? What if he -”
Dr. Townsend puts a hand on Luther’s shoulder, cutting him off. His hand is… very large. Too large. Dr. Townsend and Luther are about the same height, after all, but his hand barely fits on Luther’s shoulder. Luther realizes suddenly that he’d been shrinking, and takes a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. I see your point. I just gotta tell him how I feel. Easy peasy.”
“Hm.” the doctor says. He lets his hand drop and a tinge of sympathy colors his serious expression. “Good luck, Luther. This is a very difficult disease to live with, even once you’ve mitigated your stress as much as possible. If there’s anything else I can do to support you, please let me know. Otherwise, our consultation is at an end for today. I’ll start reaching out and seeing what options there are for you - maybe a support group would help?”
“Thank you, doctor. That would be nice, actually. Um. Quick question - how… small can I get? Could I just… entirely disappear?”
Dr. Townsend lets out a huge sigh. “Well… on record, the smallest a person with Gulliver’s Hanahaki has been reliably measured at is about one and a quarter inch. There are rumors of people getting down to five centimeters, but frankly, that’s just ridiculous.”
Luther stares at the doctor for a long moment. “Right. Ridiculous.”
~~~
When he gets out to the waiting room, Luther is surprised to see Cam sitting there.
“I thought you left? You didn’t have to stick around.”
“Figured you might need a ride back. Wouldn’t want you shrinking on the way over.” Cam stands and stretches, rolling his neck. “Ugh. Little stiff,” he mutters.
Luther tries to get his racing heart back under control. He’s a little shorter than usual, and having Cam loom over him like this… it’s not doing him any favors in the height department. But he manages to keep a handle on himself as they walk out to the parking lot. Cam’s quiet for a bit, but once the car starts up, the questions begin.
“So, what’d the doctor say?” Cam asks, glancing over his shoulder as he backs out of the parking spot. A little ball of panic starts to form in Luther’s gut. Oh, nothing much, just that I’m going to shrink every time I’m awkward around my crush. Which is you, by the way.
“Uh, it’s… an autoimmune disorder,” Luther mumbles. “Rare one. They don’t know a lot about it yet.”
“Okay, makes sense,” Cam says. Luckily his eyes are on the road, so he doesn’t notice Luther losing an inch. “What’s it called?”
“G - “ Luther starts, then catches himself. What if Cam looks it up later and figures it out? He shrinks a little bit more and swallows, trying to clear his throat. “I… the name was… it was very long and I didn’t really, uh, catch it.”
Cam chuckles quietly. The sound reverberates around the inside of Luther’s skull. It’s so musical and sweet. He clutches the seatbelt and shrinks some more.
“Yeah, some of them have weird names. What kinda treatment are you lookin’ at?”
“Uh… this was just like, a consultation, to identify it? So we’re gonna do treatment next time.” Luther doesn’t even sound convincing to his own ears. Cam glances sideways at him and his heart skips a beat.
“We don’t have to talk about it,” Cam says, looking the other way as he makes a turn. “It’s medical stuff, it’s personal. I’m sorry for prying.”
“No, no, it’s not that! It’s… just a lot to take in, and I’m still - there’s a couple things it could be actually and they don’t know for sure so they took blood samples, and there’s tests that are gonna come back later, and um, uh…” Luther trails off. He’s shrunk so much now that the seat belt presses uncomfortably across his chest and neck, and the tension on it makes it difficult to adjust. He’d been staring out the windshield as he rambled, but now he’s too short to see much more than the sky. He feels Cam pull the car over and turn off the engine. Luther slowly turns to his left and looks up at Cam, who stares down at him in turn. Luther, maybe two feet high now, offers a shaky smile.
“There’s, um. No cure. Or treatment,” he says in a soft, wavering voice. “I just… live like this now.”
Cam tilts his head to one side like he’s trying to decide on something. He shifts in his seat, turns his body a little to face Luther, and props up one arm on the headrest. Then he sighs.
“You’re too short to sit in the front now,” he says. He glances to the backseat. Luther follows his gaze and stares in horror at the car seat sitting neatly behind the driver’s side.
“Oh, no,” Luther whispers. He raises his voice as Cam shifts again and undoes his seat belt. “No, no, no, no, I am not going in that! Cam!” But it’s too late. Cam opens the car door and gets out, then shuts it behind him. Luther slams down on the release button for his own seat belt with both hands, keeping his eyes on Cam through the windshield as he walks around the front of the car. The belt retracts with such force that it knocks him sideways, and it takes him a moment to right himself and get his bearings again. Before he can try to run or hide, the door opens, and Cam reaches in for him.
“No, please, come on,” Luther pleads. He backs up as far as he can, but Cam easily gets his hand around Luther’s middle and lifts him up. “I’m an adult, a full grown man, I can’t go in a baby seat! Please, Cam, don’t put me in that thing, why do you even have it? It’s so humiliating, you can’t do this!”
“Number one,” Cam says, opening the back door. “I can put you in it, I have plenty of practice wrangling my niece in there.” He sets Luther down and gets to work on the straps, easily subduing Luther’s halfhearted attempts to squirm free. “Number two, this is about traffic laws. If I’m driving around with someone under four feet in my front seat, I’m gonna get pulled over, and if you wanna explain to the officer that you’re a full grown adult and pay the ticket, be my guest. And number three,” he says, clicking the last buckle into place, “this is about your safety. We get in an accident, that seat belt up front is gonna do you more harm than good.” He straightens up again and shuts the door. Luther puts his head in his hands, trying not to break down in tears. That would only make it worse. The words ‘this is about your safety’ echo around his head in his father’s voice. He hears the driver’s side door open and close, hears Cam settle himself in, and manages to speak up.
“Just… please don’t laugh. Or take pictures, or anything.” He risks a glance between his fingers. Cam is looking at him in the rearview mirror, no amusement or pity visible in his eyes.
“I won’t.” The sincerity in his voice takes Luther by surprise. “This isn’t funny. This is really serious, and I’m sorry I had to do that.” He turns the key in the ignition and pulls the car back onto the road. “We’re nearly home. You won’t have to be there for long.”
Luther stares miserably out the window at the sky above. True to Cam’s word, it’s only another ten minutes before they’re pulling into the apartment complex’s lot. As soon as the car’s turned off, Luther starts pulling at the straps, trying to figure out how to get himself free. Cam comes around to his side again and opens the door.
“I got it, I got it,” Luther assures him. “It’s just this one, right? No… wait, this one? Or is it… um…”
“Let me,” Cam says softly. He reaches in and has the whole contraption undone in an instant. Then, to Luther’s surprise, Cam scoops him up and holds him against his chest like he’s a toddler. Luther’s arms hang over Cam’s shoulder as he blinks in shock. Cam whistles as he approaches the door to their building, fishing his keys out of his pocket. He opens the door one-handed and starts the climb up the stairs to their floor. Luther should say something, this is horribly demeaning, but… it’s also undeniably very nice. He feels supported and safe, and he’s so close to Cam but the usual stab of anxiety is totally absent. He could almost drift off like this.
Cam reaches his door and unlocks it, then stops suddenly and looks at Luther.
“Oh! Shit! I’m so sorry, it was kind of like muscle memory, I guess? God, I’m sorry.” He lowers Luther to the floor and looks away, rubbing the back of his neck.
“That’s… that’s okay. The stairs would’ve sucked to climb right now anyway.” Luther should leave, Cam’s still got the door open for him, but… “Do you mind if I stay for a bit? Just until I get a little bigger? Um, I can’t really reach my door handle right now, so…”
Cam smiles, and that familiar pang of anxiety flutters up inside Luther again. “Yeah, you can hang out here. You’re always welcome.” He turns and trudges towards the kitchen, his footsteps shaking the floor as he passes Luther. “It’s pot roast tonight, anyway. Even if you get your height back in the next five minutes, I’d insist you stay for dinner.”
Luther thinks about the doctor’s advice. Confess your feelings, and all of this gets easier. But when he goes to open his mouth, he loses another three inches all in one go. Luther digs his nails into his palms and sets his jaw. Not just yet, then. But soon. Eventually.
One of these days.
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fanficbitch · 3 years
Text
Introductions // Aaron Hotchner
I raise my hand to knock on the apartment door, then I stop myself. I kind of can’t believe this is happening. Then again, I have never dated anyone with a kid before. Am I even good with kids? Yeah, I babysat when I was a teenager but that was 15 years ago.
I take a deep breath and then finally knock on the door. It takes a moment, but my boyfriend appears behind the door. I immediately notice his clothes which are a sweater and jeans. It’s quite different from his usual work attire that I mainly see him in. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to you not wearing a suit,” I say and he smiles. Aaron leans in and kisses me. He pulls away and stares at me for a moment then quickly adjusts himself. 
“Come in, come in,” he says, standing aside from the door. I look around quickly and glance over his living room and dining room. “What do you think?”
“It’s nice!” I assure him. I notice there are toys on the floor, but otherwise, everything is pretty neat.
“I tried to clean up, but-,”
“It’s lovely Aaron,” I say and give him another kiss. “So, where is he?”
“He’s in his room. I can go get him,” he says and starts to move, but I stop him. 
“Wait,” I say, placing my hands on Aaron’s chest. “I don’t know if I can do this,” I tell him.
Aaron places his hands on my shoulders. “We talked about this. You are ready,” he tells me, but I’m not convinced. 
“What if he hates me?” I ask.
“He will not hate you. He will love you, just like I do,” he says. “Let me go get him.”
I stand by myself in the living room, silently freaking out. Meeting your boyfriend’s kid is a big deal. This could honestly make or break the relationship. I quickly hear footsteps coming down the hall and prepare myself. 
They turn the corner and I see Aaron and a mini Aaron. Jack seems a bit nervous because he holds Aaron’s hand. Aaron crouches down to Jack’s height and smiles. “Jack, this is my friend Y/N,” he says and Jack gives me a small wave. 
I crouch down to Jack’s height as well. “Jack, it is so nice to finally meet you. Your dad is always telling me about the amazing lego sets you build,” I tell him and he gives me a small smile. “Do you have a favorite one that you’ve done?”
“Star Wars,” he says quietly.
“You know I love Star Wars,” I say.
“Do you like Luke Skywalker?” Jack asks me.
“Yeah, he’s super cool,” I say.
“Well, dinner is just about ready,” Aaron says as we both stand up straight.
“What’s for dinner?” Jack asks.
“Spaghetti,” Aaron says.
“Yay!” Jack says then jumps in a chair at the dining room table. I pull out a seat to the left of him, but he stops me. “You can’t sit there. That’s daddy’s seat.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say then move to his right. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah,” Jack confirms and I sit down. Aaron places a plate in front of me and Jack and warmth wafts up to my cheeks.
“Hmm, this looks so good,” I say. “Do you like your dad’s cooking?”
Jack shrugs. “He mostly makes dino nuggets,” he says which causes me to laugh.
Aaron sits down across from me with a plate of his own. “Jack, are you giving away all my secrets?” 
“Oh, no I am really enjoying learning these things,” I say. Aaron’s foot finds mine under the table to start a nudging game.
I stare at Aaron and Jack for a moment as they eat can’t believe that this could possibly become my new normal. Jack is such a sweet boy, and he’s been through so much.
“Y/N?” Aaron asks, snapping me back into the moment.
“Hmm?” I hum.
“Jack is becoming a very good soccer player,” he says. “He’s always practicing at the park after school.”
“How did you start soccer, Jack?” I ask him.
“Mommy showed me,” Jack says.
“That’s awesome! Do you score goals?”
“All the time,” Jack says which causes me to giggle.
“I’ll have to see you play sometime.”
“I have a game tomorrow!” Jack yells.
Aaron exchanges looks between me and his son. “Buddy, Y/N is very busy and I don’t know if she-,” Aaron starts to say.
“I would love to come!” I tell him.
Aaron flashes me a surprised smile. “Just to warn you, the game starts at 8.”
“Don’t worry, my boss makes me get up early for work all the time,” I smirk at him.
                                                            **********
I carefully tip toe around all the soccer fields at the sports complex. Aaron said that Jack’s team would be wearing red uniforms. The only problem is that I see at least 3 teams in red uniforms.
I nervously shift my weight from foot to foot. Maybe I shouldn’t be here. Maybe it’s too soon. I quickly turn on my heel to go back to my car but am met with my boyfriend.
“Hey,” Aaron smiles.
“Hey,” I say a little awkwardly.
“Thanks for coming. Jack had such a great time last night and is really excited you’re here.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Aaron says as he points to the field. I spot Jack with the number 2 on his back running around the field. He looks up at us and gives me a big wave which I return. I look back to Aaron and realize he is wearing a whistle around his neck.
“Why are you wearing this?” I ask with a laugh.
“I’m kind of the coach,” he says slowly.
“No way! This is gonna be more fun than I thought,” I smirk at him.
“Listen, I gotta go get the boys ready, but do you want to get breakfast after the game?”
“Sounds perfect,” I say then plant a kiss on his lips then let him return to his duties.
The game starts and I’m standing by myself for maybe 2 minutes because a group of women at least 5 years older than me approach me.
“Hi, I’m Lauren and this is Katie and Sarah,” the middle one says.
“Hi,” I say as I shake their hands.
“We haven’t seen you here before,” she says.
“Oh yeah, I’m just here to watch Jack,” I say and point off into the field.
“So you know Aaron?” Katie, I think, asks.
“Oh yeah,” I say with a laugh. There is an awkward silence. I can tell they aren’t finished with me yet.
“Just between us,” Lauren says. “All of us single moms are interested in Aaron. So if you could put in a good word for us it would be appreciated.”
I slowly nod. “Will do, will do. He’s told me he’s seeing someone though.”
All 3 women look disappointed but nod. They tell me thanks then go back to their original spot. When they turn away I have to bite my lip to prevent from laughing out. They’re into Aaron? That’s cute. They thought they had a chance with him.
                                                           **********
Jack’s team just won and once they finish their post game huddle, he runs right up to me.
“Did you see me, Y/N?” Jack asks breathlessly.
“Yes, I saw the whole thing. Give me a high five because that was awesome,” I say and he high fives me. “So your dad said a little something about a breakfast?”
A smile grows on Jack’s face. I take Jack’s hand and lead him to his dad. The same 3 women that approached me earlier have him cornered. I try to catch his eye, but after a moment I realize there is no use. Just as I turn around with Jack my name is called.
“Y/N!” Aaron calls and breaks through the wall of women. “There you are.”
“I was just seeing if you were ready to go eat,” I say.
“Yes, I am,” he says then throws a wave to the group of women. Aaron then wraps his arm around my waist and presses a kiss to my cheek.
I can hear the gasps behind me from Lauren, Katie and Sarah. I guess they know he’s mine now.
This time I actually chuckle out loud.
“What’s so funny?” Aaron asks.
“Oh nothing,” I hum then press a kiss to his cheek.
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21burritoseavey · 3 years
Note
Hey love!
How are you?
I hope you are doing good.
Can we please get a pt2 of secret relationship and where’s my love
hey! here's pt.2 to 'where's my love'. FINALLY. The pt.2 to 'secret relationship' will come a little later:) 
a/n: without giving too much away...Daniel finds Y/n...and this sucks ergogeijhet
warnings: mental illness. please read at your own discretion:)
Where's my love Pt.2 (d.s.)
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 9:27am 
 “Hello,” Daniel rubbed his dreary eyes with the back of his hand, holding his phone between his ear and shoulder tightly as he lifted an energetic Kobe up to his chest. 
“Hi Daniel, it’s me, Victoria.” 
Daniel took a second to recall who this person was. Victoria, he whispered to himself, finally remembering that she was one of Y/n’s work friends. A smile smeared across his lips slowly, and his eyes lit up with a small glimmer of hope that Y/n would just be at work, and she’d be safe...and warm...and okay. “Oh, hey! You work with Y/n, right? Is she at work right now?” He asked, trying to tone down the sudden excitement laced in his voice. 
“Actually, that’s why I called. She didn’t come to the office yesterday, or today.” Her voice was quiet, and despite only hearing her voice through the phone, Daniel could sense her worry. He tried to ignore the pit in his stomach. 
“W-what? No, no. There’s no way.” He stammered. “She went to work yesterday.” He clenched his jaw tightly. 
“No, she didn’t...Look, I just wanted to ask, next time you talk to her, can you tell her I called?” 
Daniel nodded. He didn’t have the guts to tell Victoria he hadn’t seen Y/n in more than a day and he simply let out a “yeah.” in reply. 
“I’m just a little worried is all.”
“Yeah,” Daniel nodded again, “I’ll tell her.”
“Great, thank you Daniel. She’s lucky to have you.”
He didn’t even try to mutter out a steady reply before hanging up the phone. He tapped on Y/n’s number and waited impatiently as the phone rang, ultimately going to voicemail after a few long seconds. Daniel didn’t know what to do with himself. With the new information he’d just been told he tried to piece together where Y/n might’ve gone but...nothing. His mind went blank, and he shamed himself for it quietly as he paced the living room. Christian’s door opened rather silently and padded from his bedroom to the kitchen, catching a glimpse of his brother. 
“Hey, Daniel.” Daniel looked over his shoulder. “What’s up?” He took a shaky deep breath before speaking. “Y/n’s missing.” “What?” “She’s gone. I haven’t seen her since yesterday and her co-worker called me, and she wasn’t at work yesterday or today and I literally have no idea where she could be. What should I do?” Daniel rushed out, scaring himself even more as stared at his older brother, awaiting his reply. The two boys shared identical panic-stricken faces. 
“Do you wanna call the police?” Christian asked gingerly. 
Daniel chucked humourlessly. “Y-you don’t think she’s actually in danger, right?” He answered the question himself. “No, no. Sh- she wouldn-” “Look, we should call them just in case, just to make sure.” Christian assured, walking back towards his bedroom to retrieve his phone. 
Daniel stopped in front of him and walked backwards, closer to the front door. “No, I can find her. I will find her. Don’t call!” Christian barely had time to at least compromise with his younger brother before the door slammed with a loud thud. Daniel was rushing out towards his car with his keys laced in his fingers and untied sneakers nearly slipping off his feet
The studio came into view as Daniel took his usual right turn - almost speeding - towards the contemporary style building. He knew it was far away from Y/n’s workplace, which was where he planned to drive next, but he always needed his best friends. Especially today. 
The automatic door gaped open as he rushed into the studio, running down the corridor that was lined with multiple studio rehearsal rooms. Daniel’s eyes flickered towards the window to look at his bandmates around their microphones and instruments. He swung the door open.  
“Hey,” Daniel started, lifting his gaze to his friends sitting on the mini sofas around the sound board. “Guys?” The overlap of voices that lingered in the room and the background plucking and strumming and playing of instruments sent him into overwhelm. “Everybody shut up!” Daniel hardly ever yelled, but when he did, it was more etched with stress than anger and the rise in his tone startled the boys working in the studio. They looked over their shoulders to peer at Daniel, who had a hopeless frown on his face and eyes shimmering with tears. “Daniel? Hey, we missed you this morning.” Corbyn chuckled gently, placed his guitar down to lean on a nearby chair and walked towards the doorway.  
Daniel stayed still, suddenly the reality of it all settled right there. “We need to go find her.” They boys knew what Daniel was talking about and they all exchanged concerned glances with each other before turning back to the fearful boy in front of them. 
“Like now. We need to go now, come on!” He gestured to his car outside. 
“Okay,” Jonah said, getting up as he grabbed his car keys. It took a little convincing from their management and other members of their team, but the boys did ultimately get permission to leave rehearsal early. The boys all followed Daniel’s request and headed out of the studio. Since Daniel was basically brimming with worry, Jonah suggested he should drive as they looked for Y/n. 
The car of concerned boys wandered the streets and roads with furrowed brows and narrowed eyes, peering out in hope that Y/n would be found. Daniel raked a quick hand through his hair. “God. I hope we find her,” Daniel melted further into his chair tiredly. “Can you drive faster?” he breathed. He knew Jonah couldn’t, but panic was running high, and he had no idea what to do with himself. 
Daniel’s gaze drifted out the window, and he kept his chin in his palm as he thought for a moment. “We gotta go to the beach.” Daniel said, glancing towards Jonah in the driver’s seat beside him. “Y/n loves the beach.” Despite the long car ride so far, the boys didn’t argue with him one bit. They all knew first-hand what it was like to feel that heart wrenching fear and concern that emerged when texts or calls go unanswered. Of course they all loved Y/n dearly, but they could’ve never imagined just how terrible Daniel was feeling. 
Daniel was right about Y/n. She was at the beach; a place she appreciated devotedly and always went when she wasn’t feeling like herself. The beach looked dozy as it rested in the afternoon glow. Y/n always liked it that way, where the rich blue surface rose and fell easily or where the sun illuminated the clouds with thin streams of light. Y/n ambled along the sandy shore, slowly at first. Hesitant. She took agile steps towards the sea that ebbed ever so gently beneath her feet. 
The band got to the beach not long after. Jonah stealthily parked the car on the edge of the curb. They had no idea where Y/n was yet, let alone that she had plunged deeper into the freezing water. And Y/n, was utterly clueless to the boys that were on the razor’s edge of panic only a few metres away from her.  
The coldness of the water stung her skin, futile compared to the sting of melancholy in her heart. The sea was like an icebreaker to her, and from there Y/n found it easier to wade across the water despite its aggressive waves pushing her towards the shore again and again. 
Daniel leaned his arms on the front of the car and leaned over to look for her from his spot on the pier. He was casting his eyes warily, straining to any sounds with eyes and ears. 
“She’s over there!” Corbyn called after hearing her feeble sobs from across the beach. He pulled at Daniel’s shirt so they could run over to her together. Daniel’s whole body shot up at Corbyn’s words but before he could even stumble out any words, the little, slightly blurred image of Y/n knee deep in the water made his blood run cold and he felt a wave of...something rush over him. Corbyn, Daniel and Jonah called Y/n’s name profusely as they clambered down to the beach towards Y/n. Jack and Zach lingered near the shore, shaken and scared. 
“Y/n!” Daniel yelled, wading through the relentless water as fast as he could to get to her. “Y/n! Baby?! Come here!”
Sorrowful body-shaking sobs racked Y/n’s body, weakened by her walking, each coming in a wave, and she let out soft whimpers. There was no doubt that Daniel was crying too. He let his tears roll down his face and drop into the water as he got closer to Y/n. 
“Hey, hey, hey...” He repeated quietly, finally able to get a hold of her. Y/n clung onto him limply and Daniel wrapped his arms around her, as sure as the sun shining down on them. Y/n couldn’t focus on much. The overwhelming hovering birds orbiting around her or the splashing of water against her skin filled her cloudy mind. “I’m sorry!” Y/n sobbed, “I’m so-sorry!” her sorrowful apologies infused with the crashing waves and surging tide. “I thought it would make me happy, Dani. I didn’t make me happy…. I-it didn’t make me happy she repeated. 
“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Daniel repeated. “You’re okay,” 
Y/n’s voice was thick with tears and Daniel tried his best to wipe them away. Corbyn and Jonah were right at her side too. Their hands hovered over her back and arms just in case her or Daniel needed that extra help. They all walked towards the shoreline silently. 
---
The car ride was silent. Y/n was cuddled up comfortably in a cocoon of Daniel’s sweater, Corbyn’s jacket and a small blanket that Jonah found in his trunk - tending to Y/n was a team effort - and despite scaring the boys to death, she was glad to feel the sense of warmth and love that mingled with their wary supervision. Particularly Daniel. And she felt awful that she made him feel the way he did. She kept her gaze out of the window and let her mind drift to thoughts of sleeping in his warm bed when they’d get home. The security and cosiness of it all was comforting and she let her cool face lean against the glass to warm under the sun that cascaded down through the car windows. 
No matter how hard he tried not to, Daniel couldn’t stop blaming himself for what had happened that afternoon, barely an hour ago. He sat stiffly in the driver’s seat, his knuckles white from the cold water and the lingering glint of panic present in his eyes. The roads shimmered in the midday sun and the city buildings stood tall, piercing the blue sky as they sparkled in the distance. The faraway horizon was a feast for the eyes, but Daniel didn’t care. The world was all a blur to him, and the only view his eyes would focus on was the one right in the seat beside him. 
When they arrived back at his place, Daniel noticed Christian through the front window as he parked the car. He was standing right near the foyer with Kobe held securely in his arms. Daniel smiled to himself and glimpsed towards Y/n before he hopped out of his side of the car. As he walked around to her side, Y/n let her eyes linger on his figure trudging across the front of the car, particularly his tired, red eyes, either from crying or lack of sleep. She gazed at him as he opened her door. 
Daniel pressed a hand to her back with his hands gently holding hers as she stepped out. Y/n sighed tiredly as her feet hit the ground and she felt his protective hands upon her rosy cheeks, “You alright?” 
 Y/n nodded. He pressed a kiss to the same spot without a word and let his forehead rest against hers. 
“Y/n,” Christian breathed as they walked through the door, guiding the clueless dog away from her as he scrambled around her excitedly. His paws tapped lightly on the wooden floors and Y/n dropped her gaze at the gentle sound, pulling a smile towards the wide eyed puppy that hadn’t seen her in a couple days. She looked back at Christian. “Hey, Chris.” She spoke gently. Daniel kept his hand placed behind her back and he shared concerned glances with his older brother. 
“We should get you to bed now, Y/n.” Daniel whispered gently, linking his arm in hers as they walked to his bedroom. 
“Have a good sleep, my love, okay?”
Y/n nodded. “Okay,” she held out her hand to hold Daniel’s, and he placed it lazily over hers, bending down to press a kiss to her hair as she kissed his knuckles gently. “M’kay, I love you.” He threaded his fingers through a strand of her hair before pulling away. “I’ll just be in the living room.” He assured her. 
---
3:32pm 
“Here you go,” Daniel turned around to Y/n, “your pancakes...or what I call, little bits of happiness.” Daniel beamed towards her the best he could and placed the plate on the tabletop. 
“You think I could get about a thousand of those right now?” She joked. “The...happiness, I mean.” She let a gentle smile tug at the corners of her lips as she spoke. It was a small smile, but a real one. 
 “There’s my girl,” Daniel whispered. He rested his forearms on the counter and leaned in closer to dust his thumb over her cheek. “There’s my happy girl…” His quiet voice wavered between them and he finally let the tears in his baby blue eyes drop onto the counter. 
Y/n’s heart virtually broke as she watched him cry and sniffle silently. She dropped her fork and cupped his face in her hands. “No, no, Daniel...” Y/n’s voice lowered in sadness and with best efforts, she tried to continue steadily for both their sakes. “I’m okay, I’m okay, really.” She rushed out, lifting Daniel’s limp chin upwards to meet her eyes. 
“Why did you do that?” 
Daniel’s strong words echoed inside her like a ripple of guitar strings. She thought for a moment, dropping her hands back to her plate of pancakes. “I don’t know...I don’t know what I was thinking.” Daniel didn’t answer. Her genuine response didn’t seem to heal the intense, aching hurt that lingered in his heart from the hours before. 
Y/n sighed before continuing, “I’m...I-I feel like I’m being pulled into different directions...I can’t deal with it all! I’m just getting overwhelmed with school and work..,and you’re always busy,”
“I knew it. This was all my fault.” Daniel sighed, lifting his hands up in front of his face.
“No, no. It’s not, none of it is. You are the sweetest, kindest guy I know and it’s not your fault I did...that,” Y/n said quickly. 
“We-were you trying to…” Daniel pressed his fingers to the nape of his nose before his tears could fall again. He took a shaky inhale before continuing, but Y/n did it for him. 
“No, I wasn’t…trying to hurt myself.” She said honestly. “I just need a break from…”
“Us?” Daniel asked quietly. 
“No,” she said strongly, meeting his gaze with a subtle smile. “I need you more than anything right now. I just...need a break from work, and maybe school.”
“Okay,” Daniel’s eyes misted over again as he spoke. “Don’t ever feel like you need to hide things from me, okay? I love you. And when you need to talk and I say I’m busy and all that, you let me know that you need to talk, okay? We can talk whenever you want.”
“Okay,” She muttered with a smile. 
 Daniel lifted her chin up to look at him. “I know this won’t all go away, but it’s a start.” 
“Yeah, it’s a start.”
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Text
The Masks We Wear
Warnings: non-consent sex, depression, suicide, self-harm, drugging, overdose. If you don’t like any of these themes, do not keep reading. For real, it’s hidden under a keep reading link so you can check out now. Take care of yourselves, my dudes.
This is dark!Steve and explicit. 18+ only.
Synopsis: You find yourself at the end of your rope but someone unexpected picks up the other end.
Note: I wrote this for me and I won’t apologize for that. I love a sweet Steve that turns slowly. Heed the warnings.
Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!
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You stared at the number. The digits slowly punched into your phone glaring back at you. Your finger hovered over the icon that would connect the call. The screen blurred in your vision as the tears rose again.
Had it really come to this?
You had to call. You knew that. If you didn’t…
You hit call and raised the phone shakily to your ear. You hugged your legs as you sat on the floor against the side of the couch. You still wore your work uniform, a navy shirt and dark pants. You played with your name tag as you waited for the line to pick up.
"You have reached the National Crisis Lifeline. If you are in emotional distress or suicidal crisis or are concerned about someone who might be, we're here to help. Please remain on the line while we route your call to the nearest crisis center in our network." The automated voice recited the greeting as you unclipped the tag and set it on the arm of the couch behind your head. 
It wasn't too late to hang up. To suck it up. You could help yourself. You were an adult. So why was it that you couldn't put the phone down?
"Hello, my name's Steve. Who am I talking to today?" The voice was placid, calm. You were thankful not to be met with the usual, fake, chipper customer service voice.
"Uh," you uttered. You stared at the window across from you and blinked. "Um, um, um." 
"Take a breath," the voice was male; soothing. "Whenever you're ready."
You inhaled and closed your eyes. You bent your elbow over your knees and dropped your head. You said your name and sniffed. " I don't know why I called."
"We don't have to talk about why you called. We can just talk." He offered.
You cleared your throat and wiggled your nose as you felt more tears prick at your eyes. "I don't have much to talk about. I work, I come home, I sleep, rinse, repeat. Even when I have free time I got… nothing. No one."
"You don't have family?" He asked.
"Not that I talk to."
"Hmm, have you ever thought of reaching out to co-workers? You already spend hours with them."
"Most of them are kids. College freshman who'd rather do anything else than hang with me." You sat up and leaned your head against the couch. "I'm a thirty-year-old loser. I work retail and eat ramen for dinner. I may as well burn my degrees… maybe along with this damn box I live in."
He said your name, gently. "I want you to take another breath and then tell me three good things about your life. Just three. It can be something that happened today, it can be something you own, it can be something you like about yourself, or even something you can do tomorrow to look forward to."
You scoffed and shook your head. He repeated your name and you swallowed your resent.
"Alright," you took a breath, "I have a roof over my head." 
"Good."
"I… I made a woman happy today by finding her a gift for her daughter."
"Mhmm."
"And… and I still have some of my favourite tea left."
"Amazing. See?"
"I guess but… but these things are so small and it's always the same. Nothing ever changes. Nothing's going to change and nothing is going to get better."
"Change is small, like those things, so sometimes it's harder to see those changes."
You were silent. Tired. 
"I want to ask you something, okay? You don't have to answer if you're uncomfortable."
"Alright?" You shrugged.
"Have you ever hurt yourself or thought of hurting yourself?"
The question made you squirm. The tears finally broke through and trickled down your cheeks.
"Yes… but it's better than hurting someone else, isn't it?"
"No, because you're still hurting someone. In fact, you're hurting the most important person in your life. Right?"
You were quiet again. You wiped away your tears and leaned your chin in your hand. 
"Sure."
"I want you to do something for me. Actually for yourself, okay? I want you to go get some of that tea and make yourself a cup. Then I want you to drink it slow and enjoy it. Every last sip."
"What?" You snorted.
"I want you to make it a habit. Every day I want you to do one nice thing for yourself."
"It's just tea."
"What kind of tea is it?"
”It's this blueberry lemon stuff I found down at the market. Nothing special."
"That sounds delicious." He said. "Where are you right now? Are you sitting? Standing?"
"I'm sitting by my couch. On the floor."
”Alright, baby steps. Stand up.” 
You huffed but did as he said. "Okay?"
”Now, let's go to the kitchen.”
Again, you obliged him.
”Now, let's get the kettle on and a mug.”
”Alright," you grumbled and took out everything you needed as he listened from the other end, ”Alright, it's all good to go.”
”And what are you thinking about?”
"The tea?" You said dumbly.
"And? Anything else?"
"No. Just…"
"When you get frustrated with standing still, it's not about making big leaps. It's about the small things. So don't think about what's happened or what's going to happen. Think about what you can do now. Think about the present and what you can do to make it a little better for yourself.”
You frowned. He was making sense. You hadn't been worried about your wasted years in university or the angry customers on your horizon, you had been thinking about the tea and what mug to use. All that stuff didn't matter in that moment.
"You said you're Steve?” You asked.
”Yes,” he answered softly.
”Thank you. I… I'm sorry if I wasted your time."
"You didn't. You're not.” He assured you. ”We can keep talking if you like.”
"No, no, I think… I'll enjoy my tea and you can help someone else."
"Alright, but will you do me another favour?"
"Um, sure?" You watched the kettle, a long way from whistling.
"I work every Tuesday and Thursday after six. Will you call me next week? I'll give you my extension. Just let me know you're okay and how the tea was, okay?"
"I…” you rubbed your chin and turned to lean on the counter, "yeah, I'll call."
📞
You decided to call Steve on Tuesday. The same nerve-wracking wait before the line picked up and you quickly punched in the extension he gave you. There was a beep as you were held on call waiting and you fiddled with the edge of the notebook where you'd written down his information.
He picked up after two minutes. The same greeting as before. 
"It's me." You gave your name and winced as you wondered if he even remembered you.
"Hey," he said smoothly, "Good to hear from you. Did you have a tea today?
"Um, now, I just got home."
"Well, did you do anything nice for yourself?"
"...no." You admitted.
"Well, then go make a tea and tell me everything else you've done this week to be good to yourself."
"I…” you stood stiffly and went to the kitchen. "I haven't… I went to the park on my day off," You filled the kettle and put it on the stove, "But I've been working mostly."
"That's it?"
"I've been busy," you said.
"You don't have five minutes for you?" He asked doubtfully. "You gotta make the time. Even if it's just five minutes to sit down and clear your head."
You opened the cupboard and stared at the line of mugs, each one different than the last.
"Steve…" you said carefully, "What do you do when you're not doing… this?"
"Tell me what you do and I'll tell you." He countered.
You sighed and grabbed the mug shaped like a teddy bear. " I work at a clothes shop. I know, it's exciting."
"What kind of clothes do you sell?" He asked.
"I don't know… mostly, uh, business stuff." You placed the cup down and fished out the blueberry tea. "I sell clothes to people with more important jobs."
"Your job is important. You help people. You told me yourself last week. You know, I help people too. How we help isn't as important as the fact that we do help."
You rubbed your chin as you fingered the chip along the handle of the mug. "How exactly do you help people, then?"
"Well, I do this," He answered, "And I work security."
"Security? Like at a bank or something?"
"Or something," He replied, "So, did you just call to tell me you're okay or did you wanna talk about it?"
"I told you, not much changes." You muttered.
"It will once you take my advice. One thing a day. Got it?" He urged. "I want you to start by going to the market tomorrow and getting yourself a new flavour of tea."
"I gotta work," you bemoaned.
"Five minutes on your way home," he said, "we're not looking for the perfect tea, just something new. Then you call me and tell me if it's any good."
"I thought… I thought you didn't work Wednesdays."
"You're right," he chuckled as if he hadn't realised. "Tell you what, I'll give you my number and you text me. Every time you do something for you, let me know… and if you don't, I'll remind you. Deal?"
"I… I don't know." You picked at your nail as you held your phone between your shoulder and ear.
"One text a day. That's all." He said. "Wouldn't hurt to have someone on your side, would it?"
"I g-guess," You stuttered as you caught your phone before it could slip. "I'll get a pen."
📞
The texts were small at first. ‘Had a tea’, ‘started a new book’, ‘read a chapter on my way to work’, or ‘bought a piece of cake on my lunch’. Each one seemed more absurd than the last but after a few weeks it became a habit. Steve nearly always responded quickly, just a few encouraging words but it made the days easier. It made life easier even when the big things got you down.
It was your day off. You took on a few extra hours the week before so you decided to go out for your treat that day. You went about your routine slowly, not your usual frantic I gotta catch the train pace. You preened yourself and pulled out a pair of pale jeans and a knit sweater. You tucked your feet into your comfy sneakers and headed out with your purse and headphones.
You would take a long walk through the park then sneak out the east gates to grab something special from the coffee place just across the street. Then you would head back and enjoy the scenery as you sipped at whatever overpriced concoction you settled on.
It was the early days of fall. The warm air was undercut with a cool breeze; an omen of the seasons to come. You put one earbud in and tucked your hands in your pocket as you walked along the winding path. The leaves were still green and lush and the air smelled of pollen. You stopped on the small bridge that crossed the small creek at the centre of the park.
You continued on and checked the time. It didn’t matter, you had the whole day to yourself. Like Steve said, think about now, not then, not later.
You came out onto the New York sidewalk and neared the curb. You looked both ways before dodging between the stagnant traffic and hopped up onto the pavement on the other side. You neared the short iron fence that edged the patio of the coffee shop and joined the queue of people as you looked over the menu.
Hmm, a rose-infused latte was different. You’d never thought of flowers in your tea but you never were overly creative. You ordered, the largest size despite your troublesome bladder, and waited for your turn to grab your cup from the ledge. It was busy that day and you hid against the wall to keep out of the way of others.
Your name was called and you grabbed your cup. You went to a table and slid your phone from your pocket. You snapped a frame of the drink and typed beneath it before you hit send. ‘Today’s little thing is actually a large :)’.
You pushed your phone back into your pocket and wove your wait to the exit. You were stopped as your name was called for a second time. You turned as a blonde haired man neared you. He was oddly familiar. Startlingly, actually. 
Steve Rogers was calling your name. Not such a strange sight in the city but you’d never chanced to see him beyond a television screen or magazine cover.
“Hey, what are the odds?” He showed you the phone in his hand; the picture of your drink stared back at you. “I never thought--” He smiled. “Oh, this is weird, isn’t it?”
“Steve?” Your eyes were round and your mouth fell open. “You’re… oh, wow, I…”
Someone else called his name and he peeked over his shoulder. “I’m up. Would you… would you wait for me?”
You nodded dumbly and watched him stride through the crowd to take his coffee from the counter. He gave a thanks and dropped a large tip into the jar. You watched in shock, barely stepping out of the way of another customer.
He passed through the opening of the fence and neared again. You snapped your mouth shut and swallowed. Your mouth was dry but the steam rising from the cup warned you it was too hot.
“How… how did you know it was me?” You asked.
“Well, I heard your name and then saw you with your phone and uh, well, the message was just confirmation of my suspicions, really.” He grinned. “Which way you heading?”
“Um, I came through the park,” You pointed across the street. “Probably not your neighbourhood.”
“I can make a detour,” He waved you towards the street and you hid behind a car as you waited to cross. 
He stepped out first and caught your hand before you could fall behind. He pulled you to the other side and you nearly stumbled onto the curb.
“Sorry,” he let go suddenly, “You know New York drivers.”
“No, it’s… fine,” You walked beside him as he neared the archway that fronted that end of the park. “I’m just… I’m gonna be honest I’m a bit shocked right now.”
“I know it’s weird and a bit… unethical. At the centre, we’re not supposed to associate with callers outside but… it’s all just a happy coincidence, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I, uh, suppose,” you lifted the cup and inhaled the sweet aroma of sugared petals, “but I’d hate to get you in trouble.”
“Nah, it’s fine, if you don’t tell, I won’t.”
“I… can delete your number.” You offered, “You didn’t have to--”
“Oh, don’t worry about it.” He eschewed, “It’s fine. I just… you didn’t seem to like calling the hotline but I didn’t want you to get lost in the shuffle.”
You chewed your lip and played with the strap of your purse. You let out a breath, heavy and anxious. You’d never expected to meet Steve. More so, you didn’t expect him to be THE Steve Rogers. You had spilled out your ridiculous insecurities to him. God, he must have thought you were so pathetic.
“I’m fine,” you said, “I would’ve… been fine. I was just in a bad spot.”
“So…” He walked close to you. His cologne smelled of sandalwood. “How’s work?”
“It’s work,” you shrugged, “Wait, you said you did security. Jesus!”
“Well, I do, in a sense,” he chuckled, “You know they really don’t encourage me telling people I’m an avenger at the centre. It kinda shifts the attention in the wrong direction.”
“Hmm, I guess it would,” you muttered, “Well, thank you, for all your help. Really, you have helped.”
“I never expected… I don’t know what I expected,” he went on, “how I pictured you. I just didn’t-- Not that-- I don’t mean...” 
He shut up and cringed. He looked around at the trees and let out a sigh.
“You’re right, this isn’t a little thing,” he mused, “it’s beautiful out here.”
“Yeah,” you said rigidly and raised your cup to your lips and tasted the foam, “I guess I’m just happy it isn’t raining on my day off.”
📞
Steve walked you to the other side of the park and you left him there. You finished your latte in the block before your apartment. You were still shaken from the meeting. The chance of such an encounter was so vast you hadn’t even thought of it. You had built yourself up to talk to a stranger on the phone and leave it at that, not to face him and your problems all in one. You were embarrassed despite Steve’s friendliness. You couldn’t help but feel the taint of pity.
You tried to leave your shame on the street. You went up to your apartment and slid the chain into place. You turned on some music and did your leftover dishes, a sense of accomplishment as you wiped down the counters afterward. The rest of the day was yours to do with as you wished. But you were restless. The feeling that made you want to pace and chew your nails.
You flipped on the television and opened your phone to stream some mindless video from Youtube. You settled on a compilation of clips from a reality show and slumped onto the couch. As you laid back, your phone shook your hand and a notification flashed across the top.
‘Hope you got home safe.’ Steve’s message disappeared just as you read it. You pulled down the status bar and hit the bubble to open the chat.
‘I did. Thanks. Funny running into you. Hope the rest of your day is good.’ The message was clunky and awkward. The whole thing was weird and you just wanted to forget about the run-in.
‘So what else are you doing on your day off?’ His next message made your phone buzz and you blinked at it. He never really said much in return, just things like ‘that’s awesome’ or a few emojis. You thought of how excited he had been to see you. You were sure he talked to hundreds of people so why?
‘Watching TV’, you answered and put your phone down on your stomach. You tried to focus on the television but your phone rattled again.
‘I don’t want to overstep but can I ask you something?’ You were on edge as you read the message three times over.
‘Okay.’
‘You think you might want to get coffee again next week?’
You hesitated. Was he asking you out? No, that couldn’t be it. Was he merely checking in to make himself feel better? That was a better explanation. Believable. You let the screen turn black and thought. You could say no. Probably should.
You unlocked the phone as you heart pumped in your chest. It was Steve Rogers. What harm was there in saying yes? Maybe, for once, you would actually make a friend.
📞
You met at the same coffee shop. This time you sat down and got a scone with your tea. Steve got a coffee and nothing else. It seemed an afterthought as he only watched you pick at the crumbly dessert.
“Are you okay?” He asked as you sipped from your tea.
“Yeah, just… I’m sorry, I’m just a quiet person.” You shied away. 
“That’s fine,” he said, “I understand, you don’t talk to many people outside work.”
You frowned and sat back. He was right but it didn’t make the truth easier to hear. You nodded and shrugged.
“I don’t mean it in a bad way. I guess I have the same problem, you know. I spend most of my time with my team members or talking to the press.” He rested his hand around his mug. “It’s nice to have someone who isn’t tied up in all of that.”
“I mean… I’m just… me.” You ran your nail down the side of your cup. 
“And? I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. I think you’re too hard on yourself.” He insisted.
“Well, you barely know me,” you countered.
“I don’t? How many people know about the dark times? How many people do you let know?” He asked.
“It’s not… it’s not their business.” You crumpled the napkin and tossed it on the empty plate.
“It might help if you opened up more. You said you were lonely--”
“I was having a bad day,” You snapped. “Steve, I don’t… I didn’t come here to talk about all of that.”
“Then why did you come?”
“Because you asked me to.”
“And why do you think I asked you?”
You shrugged and crossed your arms.
“I asked you because I see what you can’t.” He said evenly. “You’re kind, you’re smart, you’re beautiful to be completely honest, and you won’t let yourself see it because the world hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows for you.”
“I-- I--” You sputtered and looked around. “No.” You stood and gathered up your dishes. “I gotta go.”
“You’re doing it right now,” He stood too and blocked your way, “Trying to run from the little bit of good.”
“I don’t know you. The only reason we ever met is because I was going to--” You gulped, unable to force the words out. “I think this was a mistake.”
You pushed past him and planted your dishes on the counter. You stormed out as Steve followed and the door jingled behind you. He trailed you across the patio and onto the sidewalk. He caught your arm and pulled you back.
“I’m trying to help you,” he hissed.
“I don’t need you to save me, Captain,” You yanked your arm away. “I’m not one of your missions.”
His brows drew together and his lips turned down. He had never looked anything but happy, neutral at worst.
“Fine, go,” He threw up his hand, “But I’ll be around if you need me. When you need me.”
You spun and stomped away from him. You were humiliated, assured of your worst suspicions. You were a pet project to him. He was trying to fix you. Another rescue mission for the First Avenger. Next time, you would listen to your gut and say no.
📞
Work. Again. It was dead and Marcy, your manager had you dusting the racks for the fifth time that day. You dragged the duster over the already shining rod that held hangers of dress shirts. You felt your phone vibrate and ignored it. Likely just another reminder to claim your daily prize in that stupid word game.
You kept on as you were, staring out the windows of the store front onto the shining street. Your phone buzzed again and you peeked over at Marcy. She was reading one of her novellas behind the large counter. She never hid it very well but really didn’t seem to care either.
You slid your phone out and moved onto the next rack. It had been over a week since Steve had messaged you. He had tried several times after the tense coffee date but had given up at your silence.
‘How are you?’ He asked as if you hadn’t been ignoring him. You pushed the phone back in your pocket and it vibrated for a third time. You should just block him already. You took it back out and ready the next message. ‘I know you’re working but you can answer me.’
You squeezed the phone and blacked the screen. You put it away and returned to your futile dusting. The door opened as you neared it and you stopped short as one of the only customers of the day stepped inside. You gaped as Steve looked around with a grin.
You heard Marcy clear her throat and you looked over at her. You shifted on your feet and lowered the duster.
“Hello, sir. Welcome to Silkz, how can I help you today?” Your throat was tight as he focused on you.
“You know, I need a gift for… a friend but she’s a bit hard to please.” He said. 
“Oh,” Your lip twitched as you tried to smile. Marcy was always nagging you for your resting bitch face. “Well, what were you thinking, sir? A scarf? Some jewelry?”
“Maybe a dress. I always tell her she needs to change things up and I think it would be a good switch up.” He replied and stepped a little closer.
“Over here,” You said abruptly and backed up as you waved to the wall behind you. “This is our new collection. Lots of reds this fall.”
You glanced at Marcy as she smiled primly and her eyes fell back to her tale of romance. Steve followed you closely as you touched a long-sleeved burgundy dress with a pleated skirt.
“This should be plain enough that it should fit anyone’s taste. Of course without being too plain.” You offered. “Did you know what size you would need?”
“Oh, she’s about your size,” Steve said, “And I was thinking something less… well something with more skin.”
You nearly tripped over your own feet as you tried to keep your distance from him and found a dress in a lighter shade of red with cutouts at the sides and a slimmer silhouette. You grabbed it and held it almost like a shield. He barely even looked at it.
“I’m sure it will look wonderful on her,” he remarked, “Can you show me the jewelry? I might get her something to go with it.”
The jewelry stand was in the other corner. Far from Marcy as she kept to one side of the counter and hunched over her book. You rounded a table of folded slacks and led him to the rack. He followed and stopped beside you as he took a necklace with a feather ornament and pretended to look at it.
“You haven’t been answering me,” he said under his breath.
“Yeah, might be a hint,” you retorted, “what are you doing here?”
“Checking in. Making sure you’re okay… since no one else knows how you can get.”
“Do you realise how fucked up this is?” You hissed. “I… You can’t bring those things up.”
“You won’t. You can’t outrun it forever. I see it in you. You told me yourself. You’re desperate for a change.” He hung the necklace again. “I can change everything for you.”
“What do you want?”
He looked down and took a bracelet from the rack; a silver band with a red rose ornament. He held it out to you. “I want a change too.”
You took the bracelet and backed away with the dress folded over your arm. “Is that everything?” You said loudly.
“For now,” he answered as he kept close and you kept away by rounding the other side of the counter, “I think she’ll love it… it’ll look great on her.”
“I’m sure it will,” you said as you scanned the items. “How are you paying, sir?”
📞
The rest of your day dragged by. There were no distractions to keep you from thinking of your run in with Steve. It was as if he had flipped a switch. No long the cheerful, concerned man, there was something sinister behind his otherwise caring words. The way he’d watched you, followed you so closely, the mere tone of his voice. He was angry and you couldn’t help but feel you had asked for it.
You left reluctantly as Marcy locked up. You caught the train, watching over your shoulder. You had never told Steve where exactly you worked, you realised as you swayed with the movement of the subway. There were dozens of clothing stores in the city, how had found yours?
You got off and climbed the steps to your apartment. Would it be too much to file a report? He hadn’t done anything but bought some merchandise from the store you happened to work in. But he had offered his number to a caller at the centre and he had pursued her beyond that. Yet, you had agreed to it all.
You were, as ever, so stupid.
You stepped off at your floor and your hands fumbled with your keys. You couldn’t calm down. There was something so off about all of it. Steve showing up, the way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you. You pushed inside and swung the door shut before you could process what awaited you within.
Steve leaned against the back of your couch, arms crossed, as he watched you expectantly. Your hand lingered on the door and he shoved himself away from the sofa. He tutted his warning.
“You won’t make it down the hall but I don’t mind a chase.” He sneered. “You’ve already taken me on one, haven’t you?”
“I don’t--Steve… whatever it is you think…”
“I think I’ve only tried to help you. I think you just like to be the way you are. Low, sad, pathetic.  I can make you more.” He neared and you pressed yourself to the door. “I will make you more. I will make you happy.”
“Please,” you whimpered as he took your purse from you and placed it on the table beside the door.
“Shhh,” he ran his fingers along your cheek, “You know what they always told us at the crisis center; you gotta hit bottom before you can lift yourself up.”
You shuddered as he dragged his thumb across your lip.
“This is your bottom, sweetie.” His hand dropped to your shoulder and ran down your arm. He took your hand and pulled you away from the door.
He led you around the couch and sat, taking you with him. You tugged against his grasp and he squeezed your hand painfully.
“Sweetie, I just got us a nice bottle of wine.” He smiled. “Take a breath, have a glass, relax. We’re going to figure this all out. Together.”
Your lip trembled as your thoughts bloomed all once; the confusion, the fear, the despair bubbled up and left you speechless. He replaced his hand with a glass of wine and held your fingers around it. He let go gently and you held onto the glass if only to keep from falling apart entirely.
“Go on, have a drink.” He urged.
You looked at the dark red alcohol. You were never much of a drinker. Your father had been a lush. Your heart sank as you found it impossible to move. He pressed two fingers to the base and pushed it up until the rim was at your lips. You drank and he tipped the glass until you emptied it. When he let you lower it, you were dizzy and your stomach burned.
You placed the glass down and fell back against the couch. You touched your hot cheeks and he leaned in as he watched you. “The alcohol will add to the effect but I’ll call someone before it’s too late.”
“Effect? What?” You touched your forehead and your lashes fluttered. You tried to breathe away the wine but the spinning only got worse. “What did you do?”
Your vision was blurry as you looked over at him. He put his phone to his ear as his other hand rested on your thigh. “Hello? Yes, I need- I need help.” His voice was frantic, perfectly believable. “My girlfriend, she-- she’s passed out. I found her on the floor… I think she took something. Please, I can’t get her to wake up.”
He played the part so well you even believed him as you were drawn deeper and deeper into the void. Your eyes rolled back as you heard him give your address and you slumped against the arm of the couch. Your limbs were heavy, your head heavier. You couldn’t resist the warmth that surrounded you.
📞
You woke up to steady beeping. The sterile smell of the hospital made your nostrils dry and you groaned as you fought to open your eyes. Your entire being hurt; inside and out. The bright lights made your head throb and a figure beside you moved closer. Your vision cleared slowly as you looked at Steve and he took your hand in his.
“I’ll get the nurse, sweetie,” He said. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
“Wha-- St--” Your tongue felt thick in your mouth.
He left you and returned with a woman in green scrubs. She made a note on your chart and looked at the machines you were attached to. She was gone just as quickly and left you with Steve who once more clung to your hand.
“I’m here for you, sweetie. We’ll get through this together?”
“What… what did…” You mumbled, “what did you do?”
“I saved you,” he rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.
“Alright,” The doctor swept through the open door, “Now, it’s good to see you stable, miss. That was a close one.”
“I--” You blinked as you tried to pull your hand from Steve’s but were too weak to do more than moan.
“We’ve managed to flush the drugs out of your system and your vitals have returned to normal. It is hospital policy to keep you under surveillance for three days but given Mr. Rogers’ crisis training and reputation, we feel it in everyone’s interest to release you to him.” The doctor explained. “We’ve explained to him the precautions to be taken and you should be confident in your safety under his care. Furthermore, we will have you return for some counselling when you are up to it. Again, you must already be aware that Mr. Rogers is also capable in that aspect.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Steve said as you stared.
“Please,” You said weakly.
“Remember, Mr. Rogers, your check-ins. Every four hours.” The doctor took a paper from his clipboard and handed it to Steve. “She’s lucky to have you.”
The doctor left and you watched helplessly. How could they release you to this stranger? How could they not keep you under their own supervision? Were you just another bed to be freed up? 
You grumbled as you tried to sit up and only did so as Steve helped you.
“I’ll get a chair and then we can get you dressed, sweetie,” he said, “you’ll be safe with me.”
📞
The world passed by you as you watched it through a haze. You couldn’t seem to break through the frosted window before you. Steve moved you from the hospital to his car to his building to his bed. You barely recalled any of it as you reclined against the fluffy pillow. You were trapped in a limbo; never quite awake and never quite asleep.
And then you were painfully conscious.
Steve was beside you. The room was yellow with soft sunlight. You felt lighter but not free. A thick arm slung across your middle and he drew you close. He rolled you against him and you pushed against his chest as you faced him. His blue eyes were on you, deep and dusky.
“I called your work. Let them know you were on an indefinite leave.” He bent his arm behind you as he hugged you to him. “Permanent if you want.”
“Steve, what are you doing?” You breathed.
“Changing your life. That’s what you wanted,” he brushed his nose against yours, “you don’t have to work. You can stay here and find your happiness. With me.”
“No, please, Steve…”
“You said you were lonely, you hate your job, that you’re running out of time,” his breath glossed over your lips, “I can fix all that.”
He lifted his head slightly and kissed you. You curled your fingers and clawed his shoulder. He rolled you onto your back as his tongue poked at your lips. You resisted but he was persistent. You let him in and moaned around the intrusion.
He pulled away and framed your face with his hand as he gazed into your eyes. “I meant it when I said you were beautiful,” he purred, “The moment I saw you, even the moment I heard your voice, I knew I needed you. I knew I was the only one who could make you happy.”
“Steve, you don’t know me…” You pushed against him. “You don’t even know me.”
“No one does because you won’t let them,” he traced your hairline with his fingers, “But I’m not going to give up. Ever.”
His hand closed around your chin and he kissed you again. He rocked his body against yours. You wore only a tee shirt and nothing else, the cotton thin between your bodies; his entirely naked, you realised.
His hand slid further down as his lips moved against yours. He pushed his hand beneath your shirt and groped your chest with a hum. You winced and sank your head deep into the pillow as you tried to turn away from him. He circled your nipple with his thumb as his cock twitched against your thigh.
He forced his knee between yours and you gasped as you ripped your lips away from his.
“Steve, what are you-- please.” You begged.
“I just want to love you,” He murmured, “You deserve to be loved.”
His hand crawled down your stomach and nestled between your legs. You flinched and your thighs tensed against him. You wriggled and crashed his lips into yours again. You tried to pull his hand away from you but he was too strong. You suffocated beneath him and against his will.
His fingers slipped along your cunt. It had been more than a year since you’d been touched. It was intoxicating despite your reticence. You shook and as his fingers flicked over your clit and you gasped into his mouth. He rubbed you until your arousal slicked his touch and you grabbed his arm as a tickle spread down your legs.
He turned his hand and pushed his fingers inside of you. He bent them and pressed his hand to your bud. He parted from your lips and rested his cheek against yours. He rocked his hand and the pressure inside of you mounted in his grip. You arched your back and bent your legs around him. You couldn’t resist the sudden flutter deep in your core.
You slapped your hand against his neck and  your fingers curved against his skin. You gulped at air as your orgasm rose against your will. Your muscles tightened all at once and the pleasure flooded from you suddenly. You drowned in it and let it carry you away.
Slowly, he removed his hand, leaving a trail over your stomach as he pushed your shirt up. He shifted and his cock prodded your pussy. He prodded your entrance and lined himself up he cupped your breast. He pushed inside a little at a time. Your nails sank deeper into his flesh and your other hand went to his shoulder.
He pushed himself to his limit. You had never felt so full. He tilted his hips and you moaned. You turned your head back and forth as he began to thrust; carefully, decisively. Each time, your voice grew louder. 
He caught your chin and kissed you. He planted kisses along your cheek and down your neck as he continued to rock into you. His pace built, little by little, and the bed quaked beneath your bodies. Your hands fell to the pillow and you clenched it as your body melded with his. 
You forgot all that had brought you there, the worries that hung over you endlessly, the fears, the doubts. You whined as another orgasm burst within you and you squirming beneath Steve. He grunted as he sped up, fueled by your cries, and pushed himself up as his hips moved against you.
He stared into your eyes as his sweaty blonde hair fell forward and his square jaw clenched. He saw back as he grabbed your hips and tilted you against him. He snarled and his motion turned stunted and strained. He growled through his teeth as he came, his nails cut into your flesh and he filled you with cords of hot cum. 
He stilled you and let out a long breath as his shoulder curled forward and he hung his head. He squeezed your hips and caressed your thighs. He lowered himself over you and turned onto his side, keeping you against him as he lingered inside of you.
“I’m happy,” he uttered, “Are you?”
Your lashes fluttered as hot tears rose in your eyes. As reality sunk in like concrete and you stared over his shoulder at the wall. You were numb yet your heart swelled in terror. You nodded as a tear leaked from the corner of your eye.
“Yes,” you lied.
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miracleonice87 · 3 years
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Thousand
a Tyler Seguin one shot
a/n: I’m back! Last week was busy for me and this one is, too, but I have three other WIPs coming up after this one within the next little bit, so stay tuned. also idk if anyone else watches One Tree Hill (I know Tyler does 😉) but his family gives me major Nathan, Haley, Jamie, and Lydia Scott vibes in this one.
summary: still playing for the Stars, Tyler is recognized for his 1,000th career game and celebrates with his wife (the reader), family and team.
warnings: husband and dad Tyler being cute with his family and becoming a slightly silver fox (I think that def deserves a warning); hint of a daddy kink lollll
_____
February 22, 2025
Dallas
“Mama! Can I wear my new jersey from Uncle Jamie? Please?”
You pursed your lips, fastening the back onto your emerald earring as you looked at your five-year-old son’s reflection behind you in the mirror. You turned away from your vanity to meet him at eye level.
“Baby, you should wear Daddy’s jersey tonight,” you told him gently, rubbing his back. “We’re celebrating a really big milestone for him, so he’s gonna be recognized out on the ice, and we’re gonna be there with him, remember? I know it would mean a lot to him if you wore his jersey.”
Luca pushed his bottom lip out just a smidge, pouting just like Tyler was famous for doing. You bit your own bottom lip to hold back a laugh.
“Okay. Well, can I wear Uncle Jamie’s next game?” Luca bargained.  
You smiled at his tenacity and smoothed your hand over his crisp white dress shirt that you’d laid out for him. You put your forehead to his and assured, “Absolutely.”
Luca perked up and stood a little straighter at your promise.
“Thanks, Mama,” he said. You kissed his cheek and said, “You’re welcome, baby. Thank you for understanding.” He nodded and turned to leave the room, presumably to pull a 91 jersey from the ever-growing collection in his closet. He stopped short and turned back to look at you.
“Hey, Mama?” he began. “Hmmm?” you prompted, trying to fasten your necklace and suddenly wishing you’d had Tyler put it on you before leaving — not only was he much more capable, but the way he always kissed the nape of your neck after securing the clasp made you melt each time.
Luca paused, smiling down at his sock feet before lifting his gaze to you again.
“I’m really happy for Daddy,” Luca said with a smile so sincere it made you melt. You were such a sap for these Seguin boys.
You nodded, choking back tears. “That’s sweet, baby,” you said. “I’m really happy for him, too.”
_____
An hour later, after dressing yourself, your son, and your two-year-old daughter, you pulled into the private parking area within the gates, Luca bopping up and down in his car seat, ever anxious to get inside the arena. The moment you unloaded both kids, they took off for the door to the arena.
“Luca Paul Seguin, slow down, please!” you instructed in your best mom voice, fumbling to throw both your purse and the diaper bag over your shoulders. “Hold onto your sister’s hand, bub,” you requested.
Luca smiled brightly and turned toward Harper, extending his hand toward his toddling little sister, who took it with a giggle. You finally caught up to the two of them and scooped up your daughter as you stepped onto the elevator, headed to the front office floor. When the doors opened, you were greeted by Tom Holy, the Stars’ VP of communications who had become a close friend over the years.
“Here are the real stars of tonight’s show!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands once, making you laugh. Luca ran to him for a hug and Tom playfully dusted off Luca’s little shoulders that now donned his favorite black Seguin jersey.
“Nice jersey, Luc! Hey, I gotta tell you, though, we have something else for you and your sister to wear tonight — if you want to,” he said.
You shot Tom a warning look as he produced a black tote bag from the reception desk, telling him, “You did not.”
He gave you a wink and said, “Do you know us at all by now? Of course we did.”
Much to Luca’s delight, Tom pulled two home green jerseys from the bag, with white 91’s printed on the back and sleeves and the “A” adorning each chest. But the nameplate didn’t hold your last name — instead, it read “DADDY,” with “1,000” printed below the jersey number. Luca jumped up and down with the jersey in his hands, while Tom handed the smaller jersey for you to dress Harper in.
“And we got a little something for you, too,” he added, reaching his hand into the tote bag once more. Your eyebrows shot up, caught off guard.
“Why me?” you questioned, feeling completely undeserving.
“Because, he says it himself all the time — he wouldn’t be the person he is without you,” Tom told you earnestly. “Tonight we’re celebrating all of you.”
He handed you a small black box and you froze for a moment before he extended it further, insisting that you accept it. You slowly grasped the box and pulled it open. Inside lay a pin nearly mirroring the style of lettering on the back of the kids’ jerseys, but instead it read “Seguin - 91 - 1,000,” encrusted in diamonds and emeralds.
You covered your mouth with curled fingers, attempting to steel yourself so that the waterworks wouldn’t commence just yet. You warmed inside at the incredible kindness of the gesture, giving Tom a hug.
“Thank you, Tom,” you said softly. “You guys are always first class.” He waved you off as you retrieved the pin from its box and fastened it on the lapel of your long black blazer, paired with a lacy camisole, jeans and black heels. You propped Harper on the desk to switch out her jersey for the new one, Luca having already made his own outfit change.
_____
In the tunnel, you had Harper on your hip and held tightly to Luca’s hand to prevent him from running to the ice and interrupting warm-ups. Your kids were used to standing at the boards where they could watch the guys drill and give their dad knuckles on the glass — where he could tap his blade in front of them each time he skated past. But not tonight. They might not realize it for years to come, but tonight would be even more special than watching their dad skate in front of them.
After a few minutes, you felt a hand come to rest on your shoulder — Jim Nill’s. You smiled at him and leaned in for a hug as he greeted you warmly and gave Luca a fist bump.
“And this little one…” he added, tapping Harper’s nose lightly as she grinned up at him. “She’s gotten so big. She’s too cute — you sure she really belongs to Segs?”
You laughed and remarked, “Pretty certain, yeah. If you saw her dramatic side, or how she is with the dogs, you’d see the resemblance.” It was Jim’s turn to chuckle.
Tom sidled up next to the two of you and advised you on how the presentation would go.
“So, we’ll roll out the carpet, and you guys will head all the way down to the end. Jim and Bones will follow. Tyler will come and stand next to you guys on the ice and then we’ll do the presentations,” he instructed. “That sound okay?”
You nodded and smiled at Tom. “Yeah, it sounds great. Honestly, I’m just a little nervous about holding onto these two so none of us fall on our asses,” you half-joked.
“Well, Gramma can help with that.”
At the sound of the familiar voice behind you, you spun around and gasped, while Luca exclaimed, “You’re here!”
There stood not only Jackie, but also Paul — the two were always willing to come together for momentous occasions in their children’s lives, especially now that you and Tyler had given them the gift of grandchildren, and you were grateful. You had had no idea that they were coming, even having spoken to Jackie the day before, asking her once more if she was sure she didn’t want you to book her a flight to Dallas.
Tears welled in your eyes as you shook your head, completely at a loss for word as they flanked you. You squeezed each of them tightly and whimpered, “Does Ty know?”
Paul shook his head. “He has no clue,” he responded. Jackie added, “And the girls are up in the suite already. They wanted to watch it all up there.”
You could only shake your head repeatedly, barely having time to recover before hearing the PA announcer ask the fans to turn their attention to the ice. You dabbed the corners of your eyes with your knuckle and passed Luca duty off to Jackie, keeping a hold on Harper yourself, as Tom smiled and winked at the five of you.
“Not even a warning, Tom?” you teased, sniffling. He chuckled and squeezed your shoulder.
“No way,” he remarked. “Your reaction was priceless.” You shared another smile before you saw Rick stepping onto the green carpet near the boards.
“Here we go,” you breathed, leading your in-laws out to the ice past Rick as directed, not without him stopping you to give you a kiss on the cheek, squeeze Harper’s hand, and pat Luca on the back.
You stepped carefully along the fabric-covered frozen surface, concentrating on a beaming Tyler before you, Harper already reaching her arms out for him as he waved at her. You knew immediately that there was no point in fighting her on wanting to be held by her daddy, so as soon as you reached the end of the carpet and gave Tyler a peck, you handed her off to him, Tyler kissing her rosy cheeks.
The crowd “awww’d,” but you could only concentrate on the dumbfounded expression Tyler wore upon looking up from Harper’s “Daddy 91” jersey to smile at you before noticing his parents only a few feet behind. Rarely, if ever, left speechless, Tyler was completely in shock.
Jackie came forward to reach for Tyler, singing, “Surprise!” as she threw her arms around his neck.
“Oh, my god. I can’t believe you guys are here,” Tyler finally said, his voice shaky. Jackie kissed his cheek and pulled away to wipe tears from her eyes.
“We wouldn’t have missed this for the world, son,” Paul assured as the two men embraced.
After thanking his parents, Tyler crouched down to greet his boy — practically his own self, in miniature.
“Cool jersey, bubba,” Tyler said, glowing with pride as he nudged Luca’s chest and squeezed his hand.
“It says ‘Daddy 91’ on it!” Luca pointed out. Tyler giggled boyishly and kissed Luca’s forehead. “It sure does, doesn’t it,” he said, Luca nodding.
Tyler stood upright once more, snaking an arm around your waist as you held onto Luca’s shoulders in front of you, smoothing his hair affectionately. Tyler then noticed your new pin, running the back of his index finger over it and commenting, “Wow. This is unbelievable.” You could only nod.
“You look beautiful, baby. But what, no ‘Daddy’ jersey for you?” he asked softly with an ornery grin, making your cheeks warm as you pushed your shoulder into his chest. You shared a quiet laugh and he kissed your temple, then the PA announcer turned over the floor to Jim.
“Stars fans, you all know better than most just how much this night means to our number 91,” Jim began. “We as an organization have watched him grow, both as a person and as a player, since his fourth year in the league. We have witnessed the way he has blossomed, from an outstanding young player into a seasoned veteran. Tyler Seguin has become one of the most prominent leaders of this franchise, and I know I can speak for all of us when I say that we could not be more proud to call him a member of our family.”
The crowd cheered, so loudly that Jim had to pause, Tyler blinking back tears as he squeezed your hand tightly and nodded to the fans appreciatively. Even Harper began to clap, making Tyler laugh and kiss her sweetly, sniffling when he looked back to the crowd.
“Tyler, we thank you for the role that you have played thus far during your time as a Dallas Star, we look forward to many years and celebrations to come, and we recognize you tonight for reaching another milestone in your career in the National Hockey League — 1,000 games. We are thrilled to have your lovely wife and your beautiful family here with us tonight to celebrate you. Now I invite our captain, your dear friend, Jamie Benn, to join us and present you with gifts from your teammates, then Rick and I will proudly present you with gifts on behalf of the organization.”
You had held your emotions together decently thus far, but when Jamie glided over to you with a huge bouquet of white roses in one arm and a small gift box in the other hand, you felt tears trickle down your cheek. Jamie stopped in front of your family, greeting you first. He gently grasped your shoulder and kissed your cheek as he placed the bouquet in your arms.
“For you,” he spoke. “Love you. Thank you for everything you’ve done for him — for all of us.” You nodded, reaching up on your tiptoes to wrap your arm around his neck and whisper a thank you of your own into his ear, Jamie smiling at you tenderly when he pulled away.
“And for this guy…” Jamie began, extending the black box, which you now could see was marked with the Rolex logo, Tyler’s way as Tyler wrapped his arm around Jamie, hugging him tightly, the two of them exchanging private words of gratitude. You swiped at your tears as you watched Jamie pull back to kiss Harper’s cheek, making her squeal with delight at the attention her favorite uncle was showing her.
You all laughed, and Jamie turned his attention next to his godson. He bent at the waist to look Luca in the face, his wide grin growing even bigger. Jamie held out his fist and the two engaged in their special shake and bake handshake, Jamie ruffling Luca’s chestnut brown curls atop his head as he stood straight again.
“Love you, buddy,” Jamie told Luca, extending his hand for a low-five. Luca slapped his palm and beamed up at his beloved uncle. “Love you, too,” he confirmed, Jamie winking at him.
Next, Rick approached and presented Tyler with a gorgeous crystal award, engraved with Tyler’s name, the Stars logo, and the date and statistics from his 1,000th game against St. Louis a few nights before. Jim gifted Tyler a silver hockey stick from the Stars organization to commemorate the occasion, and Tyler thanked them both profusely, hugging them as the PA announcer asked the crowd to now look to the scoreboard for a video tribute.
This was one part of the evening you had known was coming — Tom had arranged for you and the kids to be filmed congratulating Tyler on the actual night of his 1,000th game, in the wives and girlfriends suite. You had inquired about who else was being asked to be part of the video, and Tom rattled off the names of some of Tyler’s closest friends, current and former teammates, and most respected fellow athletes — his sisters, Freddy, Derrek, Marchy, Tom Brady, Rob Gronkowski, Jordan Spieth, Dak Prescott, and many of the Stars he had played with for multiple seasons all made appearances, including Jamie, who smiled at you as he skated behind you to watch.
“1,000 games. Did you ever think we’d all be here?” Jamie asked you softly as the video started, glancing Tyler’s way.
You, too, looked toward your husband, his face lifted to the Jumbotron, and you noticed the way his handsome features had only become more distinguished with age and the few grey hairs sprinkled near his ears and in his beard. He always groaned when you jokingly pointed them out, but you loved them — in your eyes, they told the story of his life as a man, his life as a hockey player, his life as a dad, his life with you. This occasion was just another chapter of Tyler’s dream come true — your dream come true.
You glanced back at Jamie and nodded, smiling. “Actually... yeah,” you answered, a hint of surprise in your tone. “I think I did.”
_____
Late that night, long after you’d put the kids to bed — with Luca having insisted on sleeping in his new jersey — you and Tyler lay cuddled up on the couch, wine glasses now empty on the end table, feet entangled on the ottoman. The gifts Tyler had received were propped on the mantle across from you, out of reach of children’s hands and dogs’ paws. Tyler kissed the top of your head, inhaling your scent deeply as you absentmindedly fiddled with the button on his loosened dress shirt collar.
“Are you happy?” you asked softly. Tyler breathed a chuckle. “I don’t think happy even begins to cover it,” he told you, smoothing his hands up and down your bare arms. “It’s more like… amazed. But it’s not even because of the 1,000th game.”
You rolled your head toward his to look up at him, meeting his gaze. “What do you mean, baby?” you asked.
He glanced at the new additions to his memorabilia collection and then back at you, the corners of his mouth twitching into a thoughtful smile.
“The ceremony was great. The best. I’ll remember that for the rest of my life,” he told you. “But what I’ll remember most is the way you looked, carrying the baby and just smiling at me walking onto the ice. And the moment I saw my parents with Luca between them.” Tyler’s voice quivered as he spoke, and you tightened your grip around his waist, laying your stomach against his to lean up and kiss his jaw. Tears shone in his eyes as he gave you a grateful look, pulling your hand to his lips to kiss your fingers.
“My career has been far better than I deserve,” Tyler added. “But what makes me the happiest is just getting to do life every day with you, and the babies. And my parents and sisters, too. I’m just really feeling blessed.”
As he sniffed, you pressed a kiss firmly to his lips and said, “Life with you is more than I could’ve ever wished for, Ty. Every day is like a celebration of the love you and I share. Everything else, like tonight — it’s just icing on the cake.” Tyler nodded, giving you one more kiss as he whispered his gratitude for you.
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thran-duils · 3 years
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Doll Me Up (P.6)
Title: Doll Me Up (Part Six) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Tony Stark. On good days, you and Tony were a power couple. You, a perfect trophy wife with your hands in local charities to promote a wholesome image. Tony, business man but sullied with organized crime. He indulged in his illegal gambling, extortion, and political corruption. And he indulged in his escort business. Hell, that is where he had found you. You were a brat, and he loved a challenge. Words: 2.858 Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, smut, daddy kink, dom/sub, manipulation, death, violence, possessive behavior Author’s Note: Pepper is going to be mentioned not as a love interest. If that bothers you, please don’t read on!
Part Five || Part Seven || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost
Three months ago… (cont.)
Tony realized he had not seen Y/N for a while. They were at a good point to pause their playing, so he told them all to get refreshers and have a break.  The escort girls were waiting on the men and one of them came up to Tony, all flirtatious smile, asking him if he wanted her to grab him something.
“No, dear. Thank you though. I need to go check on my lovely little wife.”
He sighed heavily walking inside, expecting to find Y/N sprawled out on their bed pouting or in a bubble bath since he had told her to go upstairs if she was going to be in a bad mood.
She was not on the bed, although the window was open, the curtain blowing lightly in the breeze. He frowned seeing she was not in their bedroom or their bathroom. Or in her closet.
Tony clicked the speaker system on the wall. “F.R.I.D.A.Y… what room is Y/N in?”
“Mrs. Stark left one hour, three minutes, and 38 seconds ago.”
“What?” Tony demanded. “What do you mean left?”
“Mrs. Stark took the BMW M8 Coupe.”
His eyes bugged out of his head. “She’s driving? She had like 5 drinks!” Tony shouted and realized he was shouting at his AI system and as he turned to charge out of the room, F.R.I.D.A.Y. answered.
“Yes, sir.”
He booked it down the stairs down towards the garage to where he could check the computer system to track where the car was. He was fuming but beneath the anger, was simmering worry. He did not want her to get into an accident. How the hell did she just leave without saying anything? How the hell did she think she was okay to drive?
Impatiently, he waited for the menu to load and he slapped the screen to click her car the second he was able to. His finger were tapping quickly on the desk as the map came up. He narrowed his eyes.
“Ocean Park?” he murmured, racking his brain. It clicked and he shook his head. She had a friend that lived there. The car was not moving, she must be at their house. He watched for another minute to make sure the car really did not move before he pushed away from the desk pissed off.
When he came back out onto the patio, he made a beeline for where his phone was on the poker table. He dialed her number, his other hand coming up to his hip. She did not answer, and he called back immediately. After the fourth in a row, he let out an aggravated noise, swearing under his breath. He turned around to go over to where his guys had migrated to around the pool, clutching his phone.
“Who is the most sober?” he demanded as he tore his sunglasses off to make sure they saw his eyes and how serious he was about his question.
Happy shook his head – not a surprise to Tony. It was his day off. Mikhail and Louis raised half hearted hands, looking confused.
“Stop drinking. I’m gonna need you to drive me.”
“What’s going on?” Happy asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“Y/N decided to take a little joy drive. Fucking… she was definitely not sober. She left an hour ago. She’s down by the Santa Monica pier. Her friend. Name starts with a C.” Happy went to put his drink down and Tony wagged his finger, stalling his movement. “No, you enjoy the pool. Enjoy yourself. I’ll deal with it.” He pointed at Mikhail and Louis. “I wanna go in like a half hour to an hour. Is that gonna work?” They both nodded and Tony said, “Good. I’m gonna try to call her ass again. Little bitch is ignoring me.”
He turned away from them, dialing her number again. “Trying to wreck her fucking birthday present,” he muttered, thinking he had just bought her that car and how pissed he was gonna be if she did get into an accident with it.
<><><>
Tony came into the kitchen, fully dressed. He had not been in the bedroom when you woke up but F.R.I.D.A.Y. told you that he was down in his lab. You had decided to not bother him and instead gotten ready and come downstairs to make yourself a light breakfast. You had made him some eggs too just in case.
You told him as such when he came over to give you a kiss. He made a pleased hum and took a forkful to appease you. He moved away to pour a coffee, tossing a look over at you.
“Hmm, that’s a nice suit.”
You had chosen a bright yellow one, barely there.
“Just gonna get some sun since I can’t go anywhere yet,” you said, eyeing him. “Unless you wanna give me the new garage code…?”
“No,” Tony said almost immediately. “No car yet.”
It had been a week and a half since you had run off on him. Again. He had removed the bar of you going outside a couple days after he brought dinner home.
“I’m not gonna go anywhere that’s not around here. I just wanna drive.”
“That’s not something I can trust you with yet.”
You pushed away from the counter and came to stand in front of him. He stared at you, cocking an eyebrow before he took a sip of his coffee. He was just patiently waiting to see what you were going to do.
Without breaking eye contact, you sunk to your knees, pulling at his belt buckle. He did not fight you; you saw him try to hide a smirk as you pulled his dick out, beginning to stroke slowly. Your tongue flicked at his tip, his eyes locked on you.
Suddenly, he held a finger up to you, placing his coffee down on the counter. He took his phone out of his pocket, dialing a number. “Yeah, Terry?” He let out a small grunt as you took him fully to the base. He shot you a warning look and you merely gave him doe eyes, humming softly. He got out in a strangled voice, “I’m gonna be late to our Zoom. Probably by 15 minutes? Mhmm. Yep.”
You were an expert at getting him to come by now, knowing all the tricks that would send him to the moon. He came in your mouth, warm coating the back of your throat. Your head was pressed against the cabinet as he held you there, emptying himself, his head thrown back and groaning.
“Good girl,” he rasped, his fingers going lax on the sides of your head.
His cock fell from your lips and you wiped at your mouth.
Tony let out an amused laugh, “That was naughty of you, baby. Trying to manipulate me like that.”
You put him back in his pants, gently zipping him back up. As you did up his belt, you asked innocently, “Did it work?”
His hand came to cup underneath your jaw, tilting your head up. He shrugged, “Kind of. Have Mikhail take you wherever you wanna go. I’ll leave you some cash.”
It was better than nothing. You wanted to get away from the house.
“Thank you,” you said, remembering your manners.
<><><>
You got even better than driving down the road a few days later, making obscene noises as you rode Tony in his board room. The two of you had climbed on top of the long table and he was lying back, letting you ride his cock. Your eyes drifted over to the window, looking out over New York City. You were so high up. He had never taken you to NYC before and damn, was he showing you the sights with his view from Stark Tower.
It had started with a hand up your skirt the moment the door had closed behind the two of you.
Tony assured you that the room was soundproof, grinning devilishly at you as his fingers slipped past your underwear, toying at your sex.
“Daddy,” you had pouted, trying to get away from him. You wanted more of a tour of the building than just his office and this board room.
“Yes, princess?” he purred, his other hand come down on the table beside you, blocking you from moving that way. His hand caressing you pinched at your sex and you bucked back.
Your hand came up to his chest and you tugged at his collar. “What about the rest of the building?”
“Who cares about the rest of the building? That’s where the grunts work,” Tony said, his nose buried in your neck. He nipped at your shoulder, kissing softly.
“But they are important. Maybe I wanna meet them.”
Tony pulled away enough to look at you. He saw you were serious and he laughed amused, bordering on condescending. “Mhm, you don’t gotta worry about them. But, it’s cute of you to do so.”
He was back at your neck, leaving a wet trail of kisses. He coaxed you, his fingers pressing in. A low growl left his throat, “Imagine if I fucked you in front of the board as I gave a presentation?”
You had crawled up on the table at that, beckoning him to follow you and he had done so without hesitation. He had been more than willing to let you crawl on top, sinking down onto his length, the skirt of your summer dress spread out around the two of you. You egged him on as you hovered, letting him drive himself up into you. His eyes were swimming with determination and you drug your teeth across your bottom lip, not breaking eye contact, causing him to thrust harder at your lewd stare.
“You’re so sexy, baby,” he husked.
Perfect timing. You raised yourself up out of reach, empty of him, staring down.
Tony cocked his head slightly, his fingers digging into your thighs.
“Baby,” his voice rumbled low. “Don’t you go teasing me now.”
“I want to go to the Met.”
If his eyes could have rolled out of his head, they would have. “Jesus Christ. Really?”
He had refused you when you had asked on the jet over here, telling you it was boring. He had been though, and you had never been. You wanted to at least experience it.
You began to sink back down onto his cock again and his breath hitched before you pulled away again. His jaw set, frustration setting into his features.
“I wanna go!” you told him firmly.
“I told you—”
You started to swing your leg over to move away from him but his arm came swinging up to meet you, anticipating your movement. He dropped your momentum – it was weak, admittedly, because you were doing it more for show than anything, knowing you were going to get your way when he was this worked up. He would do anything to finish. His momentum though was not weak and your knee came slamming back down on the table.
“Ow!” you complained..
His other hand snaked around you, yanking you to him so your noses were almost touching.
“Princess, I’m telling you right now. You drag this out, I’m gonna put you – and you alone – right back on that jet without seeing anything other than this damn room.” You pouted again and he growled, “I’m fucking serious. Behave and I’ll take you to that stupid museum.”
“It’s not stupid—” you started to argue but quickly lined himself back up with his other hand and drove himself up into you roughly, cutting you off as you gasped.
Fine. If that is how he wanted to play.
You pushed away from his embrace, settling back. You took control of the rhythm, riding him again. His grin was wide, resting back down to let you fuck him. You closed your eyes, going quickly as broken husks of praise fell from his lips.
“Tony!”
The voice snapped you from your haze and you stopped midthrust, looking over your shoulder in shock and embarrassment. Pepper was standing there by the door, her head turned to avoid looking at the pair of you.
Tony’s fingers dug into your hips as he did a curl up to peer past you at Pepper.
“What?” he demanded annoyed that she was interrupting.
“Your 2 o’clock showed up early,” Pepper said in an even voice. How did she manage to be so calm and collected at a situation like this, you wondered.
“Well, make them wait. I’m obviously in the middle of something. If you would turn your head about 90 degrees you’d clearly see that, Pepper.”
“I’m good,” Pepper replied flatly. “I heard enough when I came in here.”
Tony snorted, lying back down. “Make his ass wait, like I said. I don’t bend to his schedule. I need to finish my ‘meditation’.” His hand smacked your ass roughly. “That means you. Relax me.”
Pepper rolled her eyes before turning and leaving the room. The door closed behind her and your eyes were still on the door before Tony gave a rough thrust. You whined, your head turned back to look at him.
“You heard the woman. We have an appointment that decided they needed to be up in my ass. Why even make an appointment if you’re not going to keep the time? Speed it up, princess, if you still wanna earn your reward.”
Moving again, you planted your hands on his chest. Your nails dug in and he hissed. “I’m gonna drain you, daddy.”
His smile was wicked, watching your breasts bounce. It did not take long after that for him to empty, holding you tightly in place as his cock twitched inside of you. He exhaled deeply, slapping your ass again, his hand lingering and caressing.
“Fuck that was good,” he breathed. “I think you earned your prize.”
<><><>
You sat in Tony’s office playing on your phone as he spoke business with the man. It was illegal, what they were talking about. The man was ignoring the fact you were in there; he must trust the fact that you were married to Tony that you were not going to leak anything. They spoke in hushed tones even though the door was closed. It was boring really and you were not catching much of the conversation.
When they stood up, shaking hands, you almost breathed a sigh of relief. You wanted to leave the office and go do some sightseeing. The two of them left you alone in the office and you sat in silence.
The door opened again and you looked up, expecting Tony but found Pepper walking in holding a file. She hesitated only for a second seeing you but moved on, placing the file on the desk.
“Hey, Pepper,” you said to her as she moved to leave the office. She stopped and turned, looking at you expectantly. “What would you suggest I do while I’m here? I’ve never been to the city before.”
“Does Tony not have an itinerary laid out?” You shook your head and she said, “That doesn’t sound like him.”
“He didn’t even wanna go to the Met. He told me it was boring.”
“I’m not surprised by that.”
Her eyes flicked to your stomach which was not missed by you. It would be a couple months before you were supposed to start showing but you knew she knew. The cat was definitely out of the bag by now.
“Obviously can’t do any drinking stuff,” you said, trying to remove the elephant in the room. “I’m just excited to be here though and wanna do some fun stuff. Especially now that I can go outside again.”
Pepper’s brow furrowed. “Why couldn’t you go outside..?”
You shrugged, “I was grounded.”
“Grounded.” She repeated the word, sounding a mixture of disbelief and confusion.”
“Tony didn’t like a decision I made.”
“You mean you running off to another state?”
So, that cat was also out of the bag.
Shrugging again, you said, “Yeah. That. That really made him mad.”
“I would think he was more worried than anything, Y/N.”
“He had someone beat up because they tried to let me have a place to stay for the night.” That seemed to surprise her. Hmm, something she did not know. “And then I got locked inside. So, like I said, if you have any places you really like around the city… I could use the pointers to make the most of this.”
Pepper was silent for a few moments before she said, “If you like architecture and history, I really like the St. Patrick’s Cathedral. I’m not Catholic myself but the building is beautiful. The SeaGlass Carousel is fun. And Mario’s has really good food.”
“Hmm,” you said in response. “Thanks!” You took out your phone and typed them in as you told her, “That’s helpful.”
“No problem. I do have to get back to work though,” Pepper told you.
You nodded, “I understand. Thanks again.”
She left the room and you smiled, hoping you had started to make a helpful friend.
~~~
Forever tags: @coconutqueen21
Fic tags: @kvzctam, @farihafangirls, @teenageregression, @mrsnegan25, @lilacs-lavender, @agustdowney, @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay
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70 Fred Weasley headcanons in celebration of 700 followers:
(plus an extra one, for the heck of it lmao) 
You guys, thank you so much for 700 followers! I appreciate every single one of you and writing for the twins has been such a blast so far, much to the thanks of all of you <3 
Find the 70 George Headcanons: Here
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Fred has always been really good at sleight of hand stuff, as a kid, he could do card tricks with ease, steal baked goods from his mother’s kitchen and later on since his allowance wasn’t exactly anything to brag about, he’d steal sweets from honeydukes' on Hogsmeade trips, with the help of George, he’s not proud of it but in his defence, he was a stupid teenage boy at the time. 
Fred is incredibly competitive and will hold onto anything you challenge him to for way longer than you might think. He’s definitely the type to “race you” anytime you’re headed to herbology, care against magical creatures or Hogsmeade together.
As the man himself said in the deathly hallows, Fred doesn’t like the idea of a big grandiose wedding ceremony, he’d prefer something more low-key and simple, where the focus is more on having fun and celebrating instead of neat seating plans and meticulously chosen decorations. Some flowers and booze will do, he’ll provide the fireworks - In essence, he only needs his S/O and the rest he couldn’t care less about. 
George may be better at cooking, but Fred makes a damn good pancake and he will forever pride himself on that. 
Fred is the more jealous, overprotective twin. He’s aware of this and tries his best not to let it go to his head but he can’t help it. 
Fred snores, I’m pretty sure it’s canon that both twins snore, but Fred is louder and, as mentioned in my last headcanon post, a very heavy sleeper meaning it’s more difficult to get him to wake up so he can stop, your best shot is trying (and probably failing) to turn him over. 
Fred is also a very restless sleeper, he’ll toss and turn, and occasionally dream about quidditch. I’m saying you might want to be aware that he might confuse you for a bludger in his sleep, don’t worry though, he’ll always apologise profusely and make it up to you with a lot of kisses (and maybe a bit more than that, if you’re keen ;)) 
Fred has an extensive caffeine addiction, which is unfortunate cause he’s quite hyper already but he can’t function properly until he gets his coffee in the morning, and then again in between lessons/at lunch and then again late in the afternoon. Sometimes, if he needed to write an essay that was due, he’d drink coffee at like nine pm. He knows he won’t be able to sleep because of it, please, Y/n, he’s accepted his fate. 
I personally always imagined the twins as having ADHD, idk why it just fits their characters. Fred is for sure the more outwardly fidgety and intrusive, this gets less and less with age, as it does for a lot of ADHD people, his inability to focus remains the same though. 
Fred loves being outside, he’s the first of the Weasley siblings to suggest a game of quidditch or just going outside for walks, hide and seek in the woods near their house. He absolutely loves taking his dates on walks in parks or at the beach and when he has kids he plays with them in their yard, building snowmen etc. 
Fred probably suggests at some point that the whole family should go camping, and he’s actually really fun to camp with. He’ll tell the best scary stories by the campfire. 
In regards to children, Fred wants a lot of kids. Like at least three but would be willing to have more if his s/o wants to. He just really likes the dynamic of a large family since that’s what he’s used to. 
Fred’s favourite flavour of sweets is anything sour, the sourer the better, because of this he can handle it really well and he loves handing people some of his ridiculously sour candy and watching them squirm. 
He also really likes spicy food, he’s a bit of a daredevil so don’t challenge him to eat anything because he will eat a whole chilli and nearly die. 
 You know he’d be really casual about it too, lol, like sweating and crying but just leaning on the counter like “*pant* what? hot? no not at all *deeeeep breath* I can ha-aw-rdly taste it!” 
One thing about Fred is that he’s oddly squeamish, like seeing his brother’s ear blown off isn’t so bad (if you don’t take into account the emotional trauma that is), but a needle for a blood sample or a vaccine? oooh, he’s gonna need a big juice box and a cookie and his s/o’s hand to hold if he’s gonna make it through. He also has a thing about leeches. One time at Hogwarts they were mentioned in a lesson and he thought he was going to faint the entire time. 
Fred’s broken five bones over the years, four are from quidditch: his left arm and two ribs, and then the other arm from trying to do an elaborate stunt on the stairs in the burrow and falling down two flights. 
Fred loves to sing karaoke (because I cannot get that damn clip of James singing karaoke out of my head) though he particularly enjoys doing a very poor job on purpose. 
Fred is such a good liar that on several occasions he’s given presentations in school and gotten good marks for them despite having bullshat his way through the entire thing. 
Like seriously, he’s that guy in the group project who only looks at the slides like five minutes before the presentation and then just turns on a full charming newscaster voice on the professor to the point of them being genuinely convinced (albeit a little confused) that what Fred’s saying is true. 
This is also why Fred loves playing card games like poker: he’s really good at bluffing. 
Speaking of poker-face, he’s really quite good at teasing in public (if you’re into that sort of thing *wink*) because no matter the dirty deeds he might get up to under a table, his face remains as regular as always (safe for a little smirk to his lover every now and then) 
Fred always wanted to learn an instrument, he thought it’d make him cooler when he was a teenager, as an adult, he just really wants to recreate that clip of the trombone-playing dad with the sunglasses, or maybe serenade some cows with jazz or something. 
Fred was never a big fan of the uniform thing, so he always tried to make it his own, whether that be tying the tie differently, or having his sleeves rolled up; it’s not much but you gotta take what you can get when you’re literally dressed the same as everyone else. 
Fred might make fun of his dad’s interest in muggle things but secretly he loves it too. He has spent a lot of hours in the shed with Arthur, assuring everyone that it was just to have some quality time with his dad but he would still pay close attention when Arthur explained things to him. 
Fred had a whole business of selling candy from Honeydukes’ and joke products from Zonko’s to second and first years before he and George started dabbling with their own products, he could get you a butterbeer too but it’ll cost you an extra three galleons. 
Fred really likes glitter, George has a thing for lace, anything that glitters on his s/o makes Fred weak. If you want to get your way just put on some glittery eyeshadow or lipgloss and watch him spin. 
Since he loves things that glitter and gleam he loves buying his s/o jewellery, he loves seeing them wearing them as little tokens of their relationship. 
Did someone say slight possession kink? oops not me
Fred is incredible with numbers, this is pretty much canon and has been explored but I’m just amazed at this boy’s wit AND intellect. I have a slight headcanon that if he ever goes on a proper first date with someone where a bill is involved, he impresses his date by calculating the tip after just a glance.
Even if Fred has a longstanding reputation of not caring about school, when he has kids he does want to help them with any coursework over the summer and Christmas breaks, he’ll even study up on his old books just to be able to help out in any classes he didn’t take/didn’t pay attention in. 
Fred would, in general, be an amazing father. He’s goofy and playful most of the time, though he’s serious and incredibly caring whenever his kids are in a bad mood or have problems. He knows that he’s not the most outwardly emotional of the twins but he makes sure his kids know they can always talk to him about anything. 
Fred is incredibly messy. His room is usually a cry for help and he only cleans it when it gets to the point where it distracts him from focusing on work. 
No worries though, his S/O doesn’t have to do all the housework for him, he’ll do it. He just needs to be reminded that he needs to every once in a while. 
Fred has a really bad temper, he doesn’t know where he gets it from but he tends to get angry easier than George, though Fred is better at letting it out so it doesn’t continue to bother him. 
His bad temper does mean that he used to brawl more with siblings as a kid, and it wasn’t unusual to see him with scrapes and bruises as a kid, much to Molly’s dismay. Fred didn’t mind though, he thought it made him look tough. 
Fred is more likely to get caught sneaking around because of his brash nature, he tends to forget just how quiet you have to be to avoid Mrs Norris in the corridors. 
Fred is certainly not an early bird but his favourite time of day is, in fact, the morning when the sun’s coming up. He only knows this because of Wood’s ridiculously early quidditch practices but there’s something about the way the world looks when it’s bathed in soft golden light that just hits different to Fred. 
Fred is a great team player, as much as he seems like he’s more selfish than George, if it’s regarding a team activity (like quidditch or a battle of sorts) he’ll completely lose all focus on himself and only try to ensure other’s safety and victory. This is also why he plays as a beater, he’s not afraid of getting hit at all when he’s focused on getting the bludgers away from his teammates. 
So if his s/o ever needs it, he’ll be there to help with anything: Needs to take a day off from work to take care of his sick s/o? no problem. Needs to stay up with his small child because his s/o is exhausted and needs rest? On it. Something as small as carrying groceries or books, making a cup of tea when the other is busy or doing the dishes is all on the list of things that Fred will happily do for his s/o, and often without having to be asked, he’ll just do it. 
Fred’s boggart is seeing his family members and/or his s/o hurt beyond what he can save. Essentially his worst fear is being helpless when he needs it most. 
One of those times was when George lost his ear. The first night when George was lying practically unconscious on the couch with blood everywhere was the worst night of Fred’s life, he truly felt so anxious and helpless and angry that he vomited and ended up passing out next to the couch after staying up till sunrise watching his brother like a hawk. 
He didn’t just sleepwalk when he was younger, he also often experienced nightmares, it’s only George, Molly and Arthur who remembers anything about this. 
They got less and less the older he got and he assumed that he’d never be bothered by them again until after the second wizarding war and the battle of Hogwarts. 
I don’t like to headcanon that he dies cause he didn’t and that’s final lol. I do, however, headcanon that Fred still gets hurt, since everyone in the explosion beside him seemed to sustain minor injuries, I just think that to even out with George losing his ear, he hurts his leg and needs a lot of retraining/a walking stick. I think that’d be a more fair/unfair ending for Fred who’s always full of energy having to have to adjust to living slowly for a little while (not permanently, I couldn’t do that to my boy). 
The boy has anxiety sometimes, ok. (just let me project for a second)
He didn’t know how much tension he usually holds in his body until he drank alcohol for the first time and felt his entire body loosen up and was like “huh this is new.” 
He doesn’t use alcohol to deal with it though, he prefers just talking to George about whenever he feels is stressing him out and that helps. A massage from his s/o to loosen him up doesn’t hurt either. 
Fred prefers to talk to his dad about his problems more than he prefers to talk to Molly, generally. 
His favourite body parts on his s/o: Shoulders, hips, hands. 
He loves to kiss, just in general, but he also loves kissing his s/o’s nose, forehead, neck, shoulder, etc. as little gestures of affection. 
He def. has a bit of a size kink, he loves being taller than his s/o. 
If Fred could have any pet he wanted, he’d probably want a dog, the bigger the better. He doesn’t think he has the time for a pet though. 
It was his idea to start breeding pygmy puffs, it’s the closest he’ll get to having a pet. 
I don’t know why but I feel like when Fred and his s/o are expecting and his s/o goes into labour he just panics. loses it, drops the binkie as we say in Denmark: Freaks the fuck out, if you will. He’s definitely the pacing and wringing his hands together type, though he probably tries his best to keep himself composed and chill during the whole thing whilst simultaneously hyperventilating. 
Fred doesn’t cry often but he sure as hell wept with pride when he held all his kids for the first time. 
Despite the notion that the twins often slip in a joke version of a sweet treat or something similar amongst the snacks at parties, Fred is strongly against tampering with drinks. He knows the connotations it holds and he doesn’t want anyone to be afraid they’d put something in it. If he wants you to test out their truth serum or a love potion, he’ll just ask you flat out and if you don’t want to, he’s not going to continue asking. 
Most of the detentions Fred has gotten from Snape come from times he’s spoken back to him when Snape’s been giving another student a rough time. He doesn’t regret it one bit. 
 If you ask Fred what his proudest accomplishment is, he’ll probably say that it’s having had enough restraint to not punch Umbridge in the face every time he saw her. 
On the note of Umbridge. It wasn’t her detentions with him that got his blood boiling, it was when she punished little kids (a la Nigel) for doing practically nothing, he understands that to an extent and by comparison, setting off a bunch of fireworks inside a building would harbour a harsher punishment, but making twelve-year-olds bleed for running in the halls or playing music or just doing things that twelve-year-olds will inevitably do, is something Fred doesn’t understand. That year pretty much any kid younger than him, or anyone who was too afraid to stand up for themselves, became Fred and George’s little siblings, and they’re very protective older brothers. Umbridge can vouch for that. 
He struggles with a lot of insecurity in his relationships, he always puts on a front of being extra funny and outgoing when he’s in a new relationship because he’s secretly afraid that the way he is isn’t good enough and that eventually, his s/o will see through him and leave because they don’t like the softer, more serious side of him. 
Fred is the godfather of all of George’s kids but is also the godparent of Hugo, Lily and Lucy. 
Fred loves business meetings, he sees them as a good challenge to practice his smooth talk. 
Fred spent his first salary from the shop on the most expensive bottle of champagne he could find and a new suit. 
Fred tried to get into whiskey, feeling like it’d make him a cool business owner type of man, so, with his second salary, he went out and bought a fancy-schmancy bottle of whiskey and the whole getup with a bottle and some cool glasses, and then invited Lee over to try it with him and George. 
They did not like it. Fred thought it tasted like what he imagined gasoline tastes like so they mostly used it as decorations, not having the heart to mix it with something. 
Fred doesn’t necessarily like PDA, it depends on what you mean. He likes being secretive. Pulling his s/o into an empty classroom, nook, hallway, secret pathway etc where anyone could wander in at any time and snogging her senseless is one of his favourite things to do. 
Fred knows how good he looks in his quidditch uniform and will absolutely use it against his s/o. (they’re gonna get spicy from here on so read with caution if you're in public)
Fred prefers giving more than receiving oral. 
He has a lot of energy, did you not think that would rub off (no pun intended) on his sex drive? He can go pretty much any time and place, and typically last at least two rounds. 
Also, his favourite position is having you on top. Okay, I'm gonna stop now. 
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hogarthwrites · 3 years
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house sitting for two chapter 17
chapters:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 16 pairing: Sam Drake/Reader (m/f) genre: smut, slow romance, mutual pining warnings: graphic sex, alcohol words: 2,901 summary: You're unsure about dating someone else and it makes you guilty about still being in love. You make your mind up when you run into a certain someone one night.
Sam and Sully had gone to Las Vegas. “Just because,” Sam reasoned. He needed to forget how empty he felt whenever it was nighttime and he was lonely in bed.
Instead, he and Sully gambled, outsmarting each other in their own games. At the end of the night, Sam would go to the nearest bar to drink. That’s where he was reunited with Victoria, an old flame he had just before Panama.
Victoria – or Vix – as he called her, was a nice enough woman. She was as loud as he remembered her and he genuinely did have fun with her, and there was an understanding between them: it was just sex.
He'd take her to his RV every night, and every single time he fucked her, he thought of you. As he dug his fingers into the soft skin of her hips, he closed his eyes, imagining you, drowning out the sounds of her moans. He couldn't understand how he became so attached to you but no other person.
It was then the telephone started ringing. Sam sighed, considering his options. He wasn't close yet and he wasn't in a hurry so he got up and hobbled to the phone.
“Yeah?” Sam leaned against the wall, expecting it to be Sully calling from his five-star hotel room, but there was no response.
“Come on, Sam, don't keep me waiting,” Victoria whined. “I was so close.”
“Just a second,” he turned away from her. “Hello? Hello?”
The line cut out, leaving Sam confused. Must've been a wrong number.
He drove Sully back to California the next day, feeling a little sad about being back in Paso Robles. It didn't stop him from looking around as he drove, hoping to get a glance of you – that is, if you stayed in the area.
“I've gotta say that was the first Vegas trip I've been on where I haven't made any life altering decisions,” Sully mused. “Hell, that was the mildest experience I've had.”
“Jeez, Victor, sorry I made it lame,” Sam joked. Deep down they knew they were too old to get shit faced drunk and make horrible decisions just after a few nights in Las Vegas.
“Ah, maybe next time,” Sully picked up his bags as Sam parked in front of his mid-century style home. “What's next for Samuel Drake?”
“Uh,” Sam thought. “Gonna visit a special lady named Irene, then hopefully my business partner can find another job for us.”
“Oh, Irene,” Sully chuckled.
“Ah, so you know her,” Sam smiled.
“The ‘70’s were a wild time, Sam,” Sully winked, confirming yours and Sam’s suspicions.
“Well, good for you, Victor. She's still single, just so you know.”
“Right,” Sully laughed. “Hey, maybe you should go up to Los Angeles, just see the sights. Weather’s nice this time of the year.”
Huh , Sam thought to himself. He hasn't been in LA in years. It won't hurt to stop by.
“Sure, Victor. I'll send you a postcard.”
“There's an open house this weekend,” Stephen said over the phone. “I hope you understand.”
“Yeah, I'm totally cool with it.” You lay in the hammock of your backyard, smoking a cigarette and mindlessly scrolled through social media. Sam was always on your Instagram, giving you just a glimmer of hope.
“I'll call as much as I can. I love you.”
You paused, chewing on you lip. “I'll see you soon, Steve.”
You felt the tiniest pang of guilt as you felt a bit of relief to be away from Stephen for two weeks. As much as you tried, you couldn't love him. Sam was still in your mind and everytime you had sex with Stephen, you thought about Sam. It just didn't feel as good.
It didn't stop you from being racked with guilt. You didn't want to be with Stephen, but you didn't want to be lonely.
I'm a horrible person and I had the audacity to call Sam a selfish bastard, you let out an angry puff of smoke. Maybe we are a lot more alike than I thought.
You groaned as you slid off the hammock hanging on your back porch and padded your way into your kitchen to get a drink. The silence was overwhelming while you poured yourself a glass of orange juice.
You retired to your room and climbed into your cold, empty bed. You hated the silence. You missed Sam’s voice as he talked on and on about something that excited him.
You read and reread the letter he wrote you in the hospital. It was short but it was enough to make you miss him every time.
I'm sorry. No one's ever done anything like that for me and I feel horrible. Please get better. I'll make you pancakes like I promised long ago.
I love you,
Sam
The landline phone caught your attention. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to hear his voice just for a bit.
You hastily got up and walked to the phone, mind racing as you picked up the receiver. You assured yourself it was fine and that Sam never had a caller ID.
Here goes, you held your breath as you dialed his number, dreading the ringing tones.
It kept ringing and you were scared it'll go to voicemail, but after a while, Sam finally picked up.
“Yeah?” He was out of breath.
Just that one word made your heart leap. You opened your mouth to say something when you heard someone in the background.
“Come on, Sam, don't keep me waiting,” a woman said in a sultry voice. “I was so close.”
“Just a second,” Sam called out. “Hello? Hello?”
You hung up. That was a terrible idea.
Irene was overjoyed to see Sam, peppering his face in kisses.
“Oh, you've grown so tall!” She joked. “It's so nice to see you, Sam.”
“You know I can't stay away from my favourite weed lady,” he chuckled.
“Are you staying long?”
“Nah, just dropping by to say ‘hi’.”
“Well ‘hi’ to you too,” she smiled.
She gave him a pan of banana bread (and some weed) before he left, asking if he ever got to see you. He wished he did.
You lay on the floor of your living room, music blasting on the stereo as you had a pity party. You had to end things with Stephen as the guilt was becoming too much for you to bear.
You had put the ring back on, staring at it as you held your hand up. You needed a drink.
The fluorescent lights of the store were a little too bright for you and you trudged to the fridge, ignoring the guy manning the cashier.
“You look like shit again,” he remarked.
“‘Kay, thanks for the input, Troy,” you muttered. Asshole.
You grabbed a few bottles of beer, hugging them to your chest. Just another Friday night.
“Sorry, I need a pack of cigarettes… Or two,” you heard a familiar voice. You peeked behind a shelf of condoms.
It was Sam. What the hell is he doing in LA and in this particular store too?
Fuck. You began to panic, glancing down at yourself. The grey sweatpants and your stained DIY shirt you painted years ago wasn’t the most flattering outfit and it didn't help that your hair was a mess.
You wanted him to just go, but through your panicked state, you dropped one of the bottles in your arms, catching Sam’s attention.
“Y/N?” He looked at you curiously.
“Heyy, Sam,” you sheepishly stepped away from the mess on the floor.
“Clean up on aisle two,” Troy mumbled, grabbing the broom and a mop.
“Sorry, I'll pay for that,” you tiptoed past him.
“No, I'll pay for it,” Sam looked at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip. Your heart leaped when you met his gentle eyes. “That's a lot of bottles.”
“TGIF, right?” You awkwardly laughed. Idiot.
“Can't argue with that,” Sam smiled.
Troy totalled up yours and Sam’s purchases after a lot of whining. Sam helped you carry your bottles of beer.
“Where ya heading?” He asked.
“Home. It's not too far from here.”
“Come on, I'll give you a lift,” he nudged you.
“No, it's fine,” you shook your head.
“You don't wanna see my snazzy new tiny home?”
“Tiny home,” you chuckled. “Yeah, sure I'd love to see it.”
Sam had a nice little RV with his motorcycle secured on it. It wasn't too fancy inside; his books were neatly organised on a small shelf by the sofa/dining area, the plants you left him on a box by the window, and a large bed in the back with just a curtain for privacy.
“Wow,” you looked around. “What made you wanna get an RV?”
“Eh, just wanted to be able to move around easier,” he shrugged as he sat in the driver's seat. “It's not permanent, but it's been alright so far.”
You took the seat next to him, fastening your seatbelt.
“Where to?” Sam asked.
“Its just a few blocks away. Go west.”
It was supposed to be a short drive, but it felt longer to you. You didn't know what to say and neither did Sam, just Spandau Ballet softly playing on the radio filling in the silence.
“So,” Sam cleared his throat. “LA… Why? You planning on being in Hollywood?”
You shrugged. “I've always lived in smaller towns, I thought a bigger city might be an experience.”
“Right,” he nodded. “Do you like it?”
“It's been alright,” you shrugged again. “I haven't gotten around to exploring as much. Oh, it's just here.”
You pointed at the one-story Spanish revival house you've been staying in. Sam parked in front and you picked up your paper bag, heavy with the bottles.
“Let me help you with that,” Sam reached out, his hand touching your arm. It was enough to make you feel hot all over.
He locked eyes with you and for a moment, you thought he was leaning in to kiss you. You instinctively closed your eyes, waiting, but nothing happened.
When you opened your eyes, Sam was holding the paper bag and walking towards the door.
Oh, you were disappointed. What was I expecting?
He walked you to the door, his eyes on you the entire time.
“I missed you,” he said, making your heart leap again.
“Sam,” you looked up at him as you reached your door.
“Sorry,” he sighed. “I just… Couldn't get you out of my mind in months, I had to say it.”
“I missed you too,” you softly said.
This time, you felt his lips on yours, and you instinctively kissed him back. There were butterflies in your stomach, but the moment didn't last.
Sam stepped back, his face a little flushed. You felt your cheeks heat up as well.
He held out the paper bag to you. “Um, good night.”
“Good night…” You whispered as he turned to go back to his RV. “Sam, wait–”
He looked back, and you walked towards him.
“You can park in my driveway for the night… Or however long you're going to stay here.”
“I don't want to be a burden–”
“What? Sam, it's me. I…” You bit your lip. “I want you here. Maybe we can hang out.”
“Okay,” he smiled.
You took a deep breath as you closed your door behind you, your heart still racing. Sam kissed you and for the first time in months, you felt… Happy?
You placed the bottles in your fridge, no longer interested in drinking them, then changed into cleaner clothes for bed. You peeked out your window and saw the lights were still on in his RV.
You wanted to go to him, to kiss him more, to hold him again, but you thought of Stephen. True, he wasn't your boyfriend officially, but he trusted you. But still…
You found yourself in front of Sam’s door, and as you were about to knock, Sam opened the door.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.”
You stood, staring at each other as if you both couldn't believe it. Sam pulled you into his arms, and you kissed him, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you in, closing the door behind him with his foot.
He sat you on the table, his hands sliding down to your ass.
“I missed you,” he whispered, his lips moving down to your neck.
You sighed as he left cool kisses on the hot skin of your neck. He pulled you close and you wrapped your legs around his waist again.
“Sam,” you whispered as he began lifting your shirt.
“What–what is it?” He rested his forehead on yours.
“Should we be doing this?” You asked, trailing your finger down his chest.
Sam kissed you. “I don't know, but it feels so right.”
Your shirt and your shorts were discarded somewhere around his RV and Sam had your legs over his shoulders as he kneeled in front of the table. He gave your clit a few licks, his eyes on yours the entire time.
“God, I missed this view,” you ran your fingers through his hair.
“What, your new boyfriend doesn't eat you out?” He gave you a smug smirk.
“He’s not my boyf–”
Sam continued licking your clit, closing his eyes as he pushed his face further against your pussy. It was getting too much for you and you tugged at his hair.
“More, Sam, more,” you moaned.
You felt him smile against you as he began sucking on your clit softly, switching between sucking and licking. You bucked your hips against him but he held you down.
Sam gave a satisfied hum as you came, your thighs squeezing his head.
“How was that?” He stood up, leaning over you on the table. It was then you noticed that he was still fully dressed, but the tent in his grey sweatpants was hard to ignore.
“I think I've been missing out on Samuel Drake,” you chuckled.
He pulled you up and carried you to the bed bridal style.
“Wait, Sam,” you sat up as he climbed over you.
“What?”
“I've been having sex.”
He blinked at you. “So?”
“And you have too, I assume?”
“Yeah,” he shrugged. “So?”
You pushed him away. “So put a condom on.”
Sam gave you an amused smile. “You know you're the only person I've never had safe sex with.”
“Good to know,” you stuck your tongue out. “But put one on.”
“Okay, okay,” he laughed, standing up.
Sam held the condom up before climbing on top of you to kiss you. “Happy?”
You took off his shirt and he climbed out of his sweatpants, cock glistening with precum. It was enough to get you wet.
He ripped the condom packet open and slipped it on with ease. Sam gave you soft, sweet kisses as he began pushing inside you.
You both gasped at the sensation, Sam had his lip pinned between his teeth as he pushed deep inside you. He began to thrust slowly and gently cupping your cheek.
“Harder,” you whispered, desperate for more.
Sam groaned as he began pounding into you, his hands sliding up your body to cup your breasts. He kissed you hard as he collapsed on top of you, rolling over so you were on top of him.
“I wanna see you,” he said, moving your hips against his. “I wanna see you fucking me.”
You placed your hands against the headboard, bouncing on his cock. You moaned out his name loudly; something you've been wanting to do for months. It felt so good to finally have him under you and all you wanted was to make him feel good, to make up for all the lost time.
Sam pulled you in to kiss you, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“I missed you too,” you sighed between kisses.
“I forgot how good you feel,” he kissed your neck.
His hands slid down to your ass, spreading then as he rammed his hips up against yours. You grabbed at the pillow at his head, crying out loud. His finger dipped into your asshole and you moaned out.
The dual sensation was enough to make you cum, and Sam wasn’t far behind. He kissed you hard as he came, holding you close.
You were breathless as you rolled off him and he took the condom off, dunking it into the trash.
The bed dipped as he climbed back in, lying on his back next to you.
“Wanna see something cool?” Sam smiled.
He pressed a button and the rather large sunroof opened up, letting in more of the moonlight and the dim streetlights.
“Oh, that is cool,” you grinned. “Why didn't you show me before we fucked?”
“I don't think your neighbours would be too happy seeing us fornicate if they happened to look out the window.”
“You think they can really see us?”
Sam shrugged, putting an arm under his head and stared up at the sky with you.
“Do you wanna go out tomorrow?” You asked.
“Are you gonna give me the Grand Los Angeles tour?”
“Honestly, I haven't even toured it myself,” you sheepishly said. “It hasn't really felt like home.”
“Well,” Sam looked up in thought. “Maybe we can start with Santa Monica? I believe it isn't too far from here.”
“Okay,” you took his hand in yours.
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any possibility that we get to read how that conversation with namjoon/jimin/jk went down??????? Like.. that final got me in tear from laughing so hard 😂😂😂 NAMJOON REALLY SUGGESTED THAT TO JK??!!! LIKE HOW???
I asked ‘calculated’ Jungkook about it and this is what he told me...
extension of part iv; 1k drabble
“You dropped your phone.”
Jeon Jungkook didn’t know how to feel about Kim Namjoon. He recognized him from that time before and, although his girlfriend had assured him that they were just friends, he had to slap her tits to get it out of her, so he wasn’t so sure.
Okay, he could have asked like a normal person, but he was upset, she was upset, and the moment was sexually charged. Also, she had great tits.
Those dimples were suspicious. Jungkook narrowed his eyes, inspecting Namjoon’s behavior as the older man’s eyes widened, full lips forming a small ‘o’. Namjoon had swept back brown hair, dark tan skin, wore a brown patterned sweater and khakis with cute sneakers. He looked like a nerd. Jungkook doubted they had anything in common. Also, Namjoon was taller than him, which annoyed Jungkook a little.
“Ah, shit, my bad, thanks man.”
Jungkook’s thumb touched the phone screen and it lit up, revealing Namjoon’s lock screen as Jungkook handed it over. The younger man’s eyes widened, recognizing the picture instantly.
Namjoon crammed his phone into his pocket.
“I know that comic.”
Namjoon looked up, tilting his head. “Huh?”
Jungkook ticked his chin to Namjoon’s pants pocket. “You phone background. I know the comic.”
There was a moment of hesitation as Namjoon shifted his eyes. Something changed in those brown orbs, darkening just a little, and it was a look that Jungkook recognized, because he himself had that gaze, especially when he looked at his girlfriend.
“Oh, really? It’s pretty obscure,” Namjoon commented casually, although there was nothing casual about the sudden devious smile that appeared.
“I have specific interests.”
It became a stare down. Namjoon raised an eyebrow and Jungkook lifted his chin, tense electricity sparking between them. Both of them were waiting on Park Jimin, who was supposed to be here any second now, but as usual, Jimin was dilly-dallying. It didn’t matter though, because the mood was different now, and suddenly the other became much more interesting. Because Kim Namjoon had a BDSM sex comic character as his phone background. Sure, the picture itself was innocent because the character was in everyday clothes hugging their partner, but Jungkook recognized it instantly.
Hey, Jungkook had to get ideas somewhere. It wasn’t like he had a role model.
Namjoon smirked. “Something tells me you’re not the sub.”
Jungkook chuckled darkly. “You’re not either.”
“Nope.”
That’s why you’ve been talking to her, Jungkook thought.
“Hey.”
Jungkook gave Namjoon a curious look. The older male reached into his pocket and pulled out a small object.
“You ever use one of these?”
Jungkook’s eyes flitted to the egg-shaped silicone vibrator. Cordless. It was royal blue. It must have an accompanying remote.
“No.”
He could have lied, but he didn’t. There was no reason to.
Namjoon pocketed it again, smiling innocently. “Maybe you should invest in one.”
Jungkook clicked his tongue. Namjoon seemed satisfied. It seemed like a random gesture, but Jungkook didn’t take it that way. He felt that the older man simply did that just to flex on him. Subtly asserting his dominance to another dom. Jungkook did not like being challenged. He was fiercely competitive.
“When did you know that was what you were into?”
Jungkook looked up. “What?”
Namjoon shrugged, looking somewhat embarrassed. “I’m just curious. I’ve never met someone who knew where my phone wallpaper was from.” Namjoon laughed sheepishly, dimples appearing. “Everyone just assumes it’s some nerdy comic.”
Jungkook blinked. He hadn’t expected that. “Uh… I don’t know. I guess I always was, but it wasn’t something my partners were into, so I never really got to do what I wanted.”
Namjoon nodded, sighing. “Yeah, I get you. It’s the same for me. You always have to compromise.”
“Not always.”
Namjoon turned his head to stare at Jungkook. The younger man smiled, mole under his lower lip appearing.
“Ah, sorry, guys! I had to hunt down the teacher to find Namjoon-hyung’s USB!”
Both men turned to see a pink-faced Jimin puffing his cheeks, holding up the blue USB drive triumphantly, hurrying to them as he shouldered his backpack.
“Oh, thank God, that’s my last USB,” Namjoon said with relief, gratefully accepting it from Jimin. “I keep losing them.”
Jimin shook his head. “For such a smart guy, you sure lose a lot of stuff.” The shorter man looked from Jungkook to Namjoon. He seemed to feel a sense of comradery between the two. “What were you guys talking about?”
Namjoon chuckled. “Nothing much. Gotta go!”
Jimin blinked as Namjoon bolted off at warp speed, ears pink. He tilted his head as Jungkook began to walk, the younger man humming to himself.
“You’re in a good mood,” Jimin commented. “Usually, you’re annoyed when I ask you to give me a ride.”
Jungkook grinned.
“I just got a good idea, that’s all.”
-
Later, something clicked in Jimin’s brain. He abruptly sat up in his bed, scrambling for his phone, and called Jungkook immediately. At first the younger man didn’t answer, but by the fifth phone call, Jimin heard it connect and Jungkook’s annoyed sigh.
“Why are you calling me, Jimin-ssi? I told you I was visiting noona today.”
“Was it about noona?” Jimin chirped excitedly.
Jimin heard the sound of metal on wood. Speedy, firm chops of a knife.
“Was what about noona?” Jungkook muttered.
“Your idea the other day. The idea you got him Namjoon-hyung. You must have got it from hyung, because you seemed so happy after talking to him and I thought you hated that guy because he’s definitely into noona.”
The knife stopped. Jimin heard Jungkook click his tongue. Ah! He was right. Jimin grinned to himself.
“What was it? Tell me.”
“Why do you wanna know?”
“Of course, I wanna know. Don’t forget, I was the one who gave you all the details of her schedule, kept watch for you during office hours, and suggested to Namjoon-hyung to ask noona for help during Career Week. And picked up her stuff and got Namjoon off her tail when you took too long. I wanna know. Tell me.”
He heard Jungkook grunt in annoyance.
“He had a remote-controlled vibrator with him.”
Jimin’s eyebrows shot up. He remembered Namjoon’s face, his grim expression as he patted her on the shoulder and told her good luck. Oh. So Namjoon must have been a little depressed that Jungkook got to her before him and also realized he had doomed his friend at the same time.
“So, is he like you or wha–”
“I gotta cook my woman dinner. Bye.”
Click.
Jimin yanked his phone away from his ear, glaring at it. That little shit. Never mind. He swiped around and found the number he wanted. Ring! Ring! Namjoon answered quickly.
“Hey Jimin, what’s–”
“Are you a dom or a sub, hyung?”
Jimin heard the sudden spitting of liquid everywhere. Namjoon’s tea was all over his desk now.
“WHAT?”
142 notes · View notes
plaidbooks · 3 years
Note
Hi, I have a request! From the prompt list, “I lost our baby.” Rafael Barba x Reader
A Family
A/N: Oof, that’s a sad request! I couldn’t do the full sad; it’s...too real to me, but I hope you still enjoy. Obviously, this is gonna be angst, but with a happy ending. This jumps around a bit in the beginning before settling in--just some background on how you and Rafael met and stuff. Thanks for the request, @infiniteoddball !
Tags: allusions to smut (gotta make a baby somehow), mentions of child abuse, mentions of rape/murder, some derogatory language, pregnancy scares
Words: 2257
Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @dianilaws
Rafael Barba couldn’t believe that he could ever be so happy in his life. When he dated in high school, he often fantasized about the normal, picturesque life laid out before him—good job, own a house, married, have a couple kids. Then in college, he started doubting himself more and more about the children part, and after Yelina, he started doubting the married part as well. One drunken night with Olivia, she had asked him, “ever thought about having children?” It wasn’t a secret that she wanted to be a mother; that’s how this conversation started. He had shaken his head, brushed it off, but she had pushed him. “Really? Just not your thing?”
He could’ve lied and said yes, let it die right then. But he couldn’t lie to Liv; she’d see right through him anyways. Besides, he still felt pangs of jealousy when he’d go for a stroll in the park, watch dads playing catch with their kids, or teaching them to ride a bike.
“Cause I don’t want to be my father,” he had said before finishing his drink and leaving Forlini’s, jaw still clenched. Olivia, thankfully, had dropped it after that.
It was months later that Rafael had met you. You were a journalist; you had met while Rafael was working a highly controversial case. And while he normally hated the press, refusing to talk to them, he had agreed to an interview with you…mostly because you had assured him you were on his side. He was incredibly thankful he had accepted, because you had both started dating a week later, and you never looked back.
A few months after that interview, Rafael asked you to move in with him, and a year after that, he had proposed. Everything was perfect, except for one thing; you wanted children. Rafael was still hesitant, afraid to continue the cycle of abuse that’s been passed down through generations on his paternal side. But after a very, very long talk, you had him convinced that he was nothing like his father, and that you would make sure he wouldn’t become like him. Besides, after becoming so close with Rafael, you had also grown close to Olivia, and you assured him that the Sergeant would kick his ass if he ever did anything to hurt you or your kids. So, after your wedding, you both spent the honeymoon trying to get pregnant. It was almost shocking how you didn’t end up pregnant with how little you left the bedroom. But now, after an amazing birthday celebration, you held the positive test in your hands, smiling at your husband.
“I’m going to be a father?” Rafael muttered, his voice hopeful, happy. You could see the slightest bit of concern in his green eyes, and you leaned up, kissing him gently.
“You’re going to be an amazing father,” you whispered against his lips. He grinned against you, pulling you into a tight embrace, one hand going to rest on your stomach.
Rafael felt bad with how much he worked; he wanted to be home, doting on you, especially as the months went by and you started showing more and more. You were embarrassed at first as your belly swelled up, but Rafael’s eyes just sparkled as he thought about the life growing within you; the life you created together. He would take half-days, sometimes full days off, and he was never too tired after a day at work, always caring and attentive to you when he came home. But he still didn’t feel like it was enough.
 ********************
It was midday, and court had just concluded, with Justin Fitzgerald being sentenced to life in prison for the vicious rapes and murders of five women. He was still screaming profanities at Rafael, promising to kill the counselor, as he scooped all his paperwork into his briefcase. He ignored the man that was dragged away, headed to processing, and then on to Rikers.
“Good work, Barba,” Olivia said, patting his shoulder.
He gave her a curt nod, a small smile on his lips. “Jury made the right call. But I’ll confess that I’ll sleep better knowing someone like Fitzgerald is behind bars. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I would like to try and get out of here early tonight; my wife is due to give birth any moment, and I want to be with her as much as possible.”
Olivia gave him a bright smile; she was the happiest for you and Rafael, besides the two of you yourselves. She had already helped you pick out a bunch of clothes—you were projected to have a little girl—and necessities. Rafael matched her smile, his heart fluttering at the thought of holding his baby for the first time, before he moved to leave the courtroom, heading towards his office in One Hogan Place.
 *****************
He was just packing up when his phone rang, Olivia’s number flashing at him. Brow furrowed, Rafael answered, “Liv? Everything—”
“Fitzgerald escaped during the transfer to Rikers. I’m sending Fin and Amaro to your office; lock your door and wait there until they show up,” Olivia said in a rush.
Rafael’s heart plummeted. He hurried to his door, telling Carmen to leave, then closing and locking his door. “Liv, [Y/N]…I need—”
“I’ll send Rollins and Carisi. They’ll escort her to the precinct; we’ll get her, Raf.”
He nodded into his phone, swallowing past the lump in his throat. He hung up, finding your number, and calling you.
 *****************
“Okay, Rafi, don’t worry, baby. I’m sure Rollins and Carisi will be here soon. I’ll call you when I make it to the precinct, okay? Just take some deep breaths, love,” you were saying into the phone. Your own heart was beating faster, but you had to remain calm, for Rafael’s sake as much for your baby. There was a sharp knock at the door. “That must be them; I’ll call in a bit.” You hung up before you heard Rafael scream into the phone, wondering how the detectives had gotten there so fast.
You heaved yourself off the couch, waddling to the door, your hand on your lower back. There was no peephole in the door, but you left the chain on—something Olivia taught you—as you opened the door to make sure it was Rollins and Carisi. But the face staring back at you was foreign, deranged, a wicked grin on his face, a glint in his eye. You barely had time to move out of the way before he kicked the door open, the chain snapping easily.
“Where’s that shit-stain, Barba?” he growled at you.
“I-who? You must have the wrong building,” you replied, backing away from the man. It was then that you noticed he had a gun in his hand. Deep breaths you told yourself, trying to stay calm. But your body started trembling, and you felt tears in your eyes.
The man towered over you. “Nah; see that’s the problem with being a public figure nowadays. No privacy anymore.” The man looked you up and down, sneering. “You the whore he knocked up, then?”
You shook your head. “I-I don’t know who you’re talking about…please, just leave,” you begged, your watery voice barely audible.
The man just smiled that wicked smile as he moved closer to you. You tried to back away, but he was much quicker, wrapping an arm around your throat from behind. “Come on, baby. We’re going for a ride,” he muttered in your ear, making you shudder. You could do nothing but try and keep up with his pace as he led you out the front door, down the hallway and to the elevator, his gun to your head the whole way. Your legs were shaking by the time you made it to the front door of the building, the man forcing you down the steps.
“Freeze, Fitzgerald!” a female voice called. He turned towards the voice, and you were face to face with Detective Rollins, her gun aimed at his face. She glanced at you, making sure you were unharmed before her attention went back to the man; Fitzgerald, apparently.
“You try anything, and Barba’s whore is dead,” he sneered at her.
That’s when you felt it; a small pop inside you, and then a rush of liquid on your thighs. “I…I think my water just broke,” you muttered, your eyes filling with tears. This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen, and you were starting to panic. Rollins looked more distressed, and Fitzgerald knew he was going to win this standoff.
Everyone you had talked to had warned you that after your water broke, the contractions would start off small, like mild period cramps, before ramping up. Which is why you knew something had to be wrong. You screamed in pain as a contraction hit, your knees buckling. You slumped in Fitzgerald’s grip as your body went limp with pain, and he had to struggle to hold you. Which is when Carisi, who had been slowly sneaking up behind you both, grabbed Fitzgerald’s gun, wrestling it from his hands. He dropped you as he fought the male detective, and Rollins was on you, taking your hand in hers as the pain subsided.
“I got him,” Carisi panted, cuffing Fitzgerald.
Rollins glanced at him, nodding. “Okay. Call a bus, we need to get—”
She was cut off by another scream from you, pain rocketing through your body. Tears were streaming down your face, and you were sure you were going to break her hand with how hard you were clutching her, Rafael’s name escaping your lips.
When you stopped screaming, Rollins said, “fuck the bus, I’m taking her to the hospital. Call for a lift to Rikers.” And with the strength of Superwoman—or a cop with high adrenaline—Rollins dragged you to your feet, whispering encouragement into your ears the whole walk to her squad car.
“Something’s wrong…I lost our baby…I’m sorry Raf…” you whimpered, openly weeping.
Rollins rubbed your back soothingly. “It’s gonna be fine; once you’re in the hospital, you’re gonna get help, and you’ll see. It’s gonna be okay,” she just kept repeating this over and over again. You had barely sat down in the passenger seat when you screamed again.
 ***********************
“Go faster!” Rafael ordered through gritted teeth from the backseat of Fin’s squad car.
“We already have the streets cleared and sirens on; this is the fastest we can go,” Amaro explained from the passenger seat.
When Carisi had called Rafael, telling him his wife was in labor, not even the two detectives ordered to protect him could keep him in his office. Carisi tried to explain what had happened, but Rafael had stopped listening after hearing the words “Fitzgerald broke in” and “in labor”. His heart was in his throat, and his grip on the back of the passenger seat would tear a lesser fabric.
“Bullshit; go faster,” Rafael barked back. They were a block away, the hospital looming in the distance, and it took everything in Rafael to sit still as they approached. Fin had barely stopped the car in front of the sliding doors before Rafael rocketed out of backseat, sprinting to the front desk. He asked for your room, but in his rush, he was speaking too quickly, and the nurses telling him to calm down was only making him more nervous.
“Barba, over here!” Carisi called, waving to the counsellor. Rafael took off after the detective, narrowly avoiding nurses and doctors. The taller man led him to the elevator, hitting floor 4, and then the longest elevator ride in Rafael’s life took place. “Fitzgerald is safely in Rikers now,” Carisi said, as if that mattered at all. Rafael gave him a pointed glare, and Carisi took the hint.
The doors dinged, and Rafael launched out before he realized he didn’t know which way to go. Looking back at Carisi, the detective waved him along, leading him to a quiet room, Rollins sitting in a chair outside. Now that he was here, Rafael came to a top outside the door, terrified, hesitating to go inside, afraid of what he’d find. But Rollins stood, giving him a soft smile, a nod. Taking a deep breath, Rafael entered.
You were laying in the hospital bed, propped up with pillows, a small bundle in your arms. You glanced up at Rafael as he came over to you, tears in your eyes and the brightest smile on your face.
“Rafi, there’s someone you should meet,” you murmured, slowly holding the bundle out to him.
Rafael’s heart skipped a beat as he saw his daughter’s face, the small patch of black hair on her head. He carefully scooped her into his arms, bouncing his knees as if it were natural. “Thank God, she looks just like you,” he said softly, voice full of awe.
You chuckled, shaking your head. “I think she looks more like you. When her eyes were open for a moment, they had your green.”
Rafael smiled at you, before his eyes went back to the bundle of joy in his arms; his daughter. “She’s perfect.”
“Yes, she is,” you agreed. “I was so scared today…I thought I might have lost—”
“Don’t,” Rafael said, cutting you off. “All that matters is that she’s happy and healthy, and that you’re safe.” He leaned down, kissing your forehead softly. “We’re a family; that’s all I care about.” Rafael Barba couldn’t believe that he could ever be so happy in his life.
183 notes · View notes
anika-ann · 4 years
Text
The Winter Tale (S.R.)
(Of Snowflakes, Hard Fallings and Soft Landings)
Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader    Word Count: 3900
Summary:
Scoring a date with Steve Rogers is not easy. One’s gotta be patient.
Fall might blend into winter before you get to go out with him, but know one thing; Steve Rogers makes things worth your while.
Warnings: swearing and tooth-rotting fluff (no really, it’s strong with this one, and it’s me saying that, so...)
A/N: Sequel to The Fall Tale, works as a standalone too I guess
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The Fall Tale (previous one-shot)
💙❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️🤍❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️💙
Fall was reluctantly letting winter take over, as it usually happened towards the end of November, and you were still painfully single. Technically at least, because you yet had Steve Rogers to take you out on your first date.
How was that possible? Glad you asked. It was because fate was a bitch, to put it eloquently. Steve had got your number with almost a scout’s-honour promise to call you soon, and then he didn’t. He lied. Like a liar.
To be fair, after three days of you being mad at the embodiment of truth and justice for all, Steve Rogers did call you, awfully apologetic and sounding truly regretful and either he was that good of a liar who even hired foreigners to be his alibi, or he really was on a market somewhere in Eastern Europe, catching his breath in a middle of a mission.
Being angry with him got considerably harder after that, especially since two days later, you read about a major showdown in his supposed current location and saw a brief footage of him protecting innocent civilians.
Because Steve damn Rogers just had to get more perfect.
The thing was, right after that mission, there was another one, this time lasting twelve full days. You were incredibly pissed at the circumstances – and maybe a little bit angry with Steve too – but mostly mad at the circumstances that didn’t want you to get romantically involved any time soon.
Sure, you could have just told Steve off, bid him goodbye and find someone else, but you couldn’t.
Because Steve tried his best to stay in contact whenever time and safety measures allowed it, texting, calling and on one precious occasion, even facetiming. And once he relaxed a bit – which seemed to be always happening rather soon into the communication, allegedly because you made him feel like a normal guy – Steve could be an entirely nice guy and you couldn’t make yourself let go.
Steve Rogers was kind, charming, witty, which was a cocktail you would never say no to, but on top of that, he was panties-dropping gorgeous. So even if the chances were that eventually, after the date actually happened, you might only end up like friends due to the immense distance between your league and his, you would feel like an idiot if you didn’t try to make it work, hence waiting for him to have a damn day off.
And you didn’t regret it; the date was totally worth the wait.
Yes, the weather sucked, so your clothes was perfectly damp just like your hair just from walking from your door to the cab due to the wildly swirling snowflakes, but Steve held the car door open for you, standing right there in the cold just to be a gentleman for you. He also reluctantly took your hand once inside the cab and even dropped a shy kiss on its back, his demeanour and bright blues reminding you exactly why you had been patient.
The restaurant was nice but not too fancy, which didn’t prevent Steve from opening doors for you, pulling out your chair, letting you order first and generally doing swoon-worthy things that made you feel both touched and aroused. The less posh environment didn’t make either of you feel bad for laughing and being entirely unsubtle, as the conversation varied from light to serious, laughter blending into chuckles and need to touch each other’s warmth for comfort. There was teasing, there was touching, there were unexpectedly dropped lines that made your heart flutter and there was inevitable falling deeper into the pit labelled ‘adoring Steve Rogers.’
“You really are going for the whole shebang tonight, aren’t you?” you teased him lightly when he helped you put on your coat and informed you that he made a reservation to a cinema.
The blush that crept up his neck caused you to feel even giddier than before. The wine you had both ordered might have not affected his brain as he had told you, but it had definitely coloured his cheeks rosy – and yet, now they grew even hotter.
“I mean, we don’t have to-- I don’t-“
You took his hand and squeezed, which shut him up effectively, his expression puzzled and hesitant.
“I would love to spent more time with you, Steve,” you assured him and he smiled sweetly as the cold air from outside caressed your face.
Your breath caught in your chest at the sight you were offered. Yes, New York never lasted long as a winter wonderland, but right now? Now it seemed almost magical as the freshly fallen snow proudly displayed its silvery white.
“Is the reservation paid?” you blurted out, your head snapping to Steve’s only to see disapproval on his face.
“I don’t want you to worry about that-“
“Not an answer.”
“… it’s not,” Steve replied, frowning a bit. “I wasn’t sure how long we would need for the dinner or if you’d even like to go. So… you don’t? Want to go?”
You wondered how Steve did not see the child-lie enthusiasm radiating off you with how perceptive he appeared to be so far. He missed it altogether, apparently, because he sounded disappointed.
It dawned to you that he didn’t get many chances to just go and see a movie and you instantly felt bad for rejecting something he kept his hoped up for.
You couldn’t have Steve sad, even if he was barely showing it. Not to mention that he had been treating you almost like a princess, you sure as hell wouldn’t treat him like you were the evil queen.
“Well, if you really do want to go, we can…”
He only shrugged his broad shoulders, charming a small smile for you.
“It’s up to you. I can cancel the reservation if you have something else in mind. Whatever to keep that beautiful smile on your face,” he offered and your stomach actually flipped as butterflies filled it for the hundredth time that day.
That was your thought exactly about him, but nope, of course he beat you to it and on top dropping a line like that, he was the embodiment of perfection when delivering it.
Steve looked so hot and adorable at the same time that you had to fight yourself not to jump to his arms and kiss him senseless. Pink plush lips, slightly red cheeks, gorgeous blue with a drop of green of his eyes twinkling and he wore such a kind expression that it made your heart simultaneously weep and race.
He kept complimenting you so effortlessly and was so considerate the whole evening too and you weren’t sure how much more you could take before you forgone all self-control and pinned him to the nearest wall; or casually confessed your undying love for him.
“Steven, you are a dangerous man. You should wear a damn warning,” you grumbled insetad, smiling so widely your mouth might actually tear.
He pursed his lips a bit, head tilted to side a fraction, looking like a confused kicked puppy.
Jesus, Steve, stop it or I’ll have to kiss you and I want you to kiss me, so please, be considerate of my lack of self-restraint.
“What did I do?”
“You’re being annoyingly perfect-“ oh now he was frowning hard, “-not like annoying annoying, but—you know. Just… I have a hard time believing this is actually happening. I really like you, Steve Rogers.”
The lines of his forehead smoothened out at your admission, his expression softening as did his gaze.
He helped you put on your gloves, fingers skimming over the first bare and then clothed skin tenderly, small sad smile playing in the corner of his lips.
His eyes met yours, the twinkle in his eyes you which already learned to love dimming. “Well, I did sort of make you wait for almost a month. Not so perfect. No warning needed.”
You had to physically fight yourself so you wouldn’t snort unattractively at the remark; yeah, the said waiting did nothing to protect your heart now. Sadly, your brain-to-mouth wasn’t fully functioning, still letting out more than it was appropriate for a first date.
“Steve, even with that, you’re making it very hard not to fall for you.”
Well, shit. The first admission had been playful. This one sounded pretty clingy. Now he was about to run off and think you a crazy girl-
But Steve didn’t. His face lit up with gratitude and affection and then a smirk found its way to his lips.
“That’s good to know. But I happen to recall a particular moment when you have already fallen-“
A surprised exasperated laughter erupted from your throat, and you actually had to gasp to gather both air and your wits. That little sh-
You yanked your hands free from his, raising your index finger towards his face.
“You know what, forget it, I’m taking it back!” you exclaimed, taking a pointed step back as Steve chuckled. “You are not perfect, you are a jerk and I think I should go home-“
“No, no wait-“ He reached out for you, but you took another step away, squinting at him playfully.
“I wanted to walk with you in the park, taking in the romantic sight of clean New York snow, but you know what? I don’t think I wanna anymore-“
Steve made a lunge for you and grabbed your hands, raising it to his face to drop kisses on your gloves- well, damn, now you regretted that he had so kindly put them on you.
“No, wait, doll, let’s walk. Unless you’re going to be cold-“
“There are some thermal microfibres in those tights or whatever, I won’t be,” you grumbled and he beamed as you unwittingly showed him that you weren’t really mad even despite his little-shit display earlier.
You said won’t be not wouldn’t have been and Steve appeared to be entirely content with you yielding so easily.
Well, damn it, it was really hard to keep up with Steve’s wits and humour; you loved it.
“Very well then. May I offer you a walk in the park, ma’am?” he said, holding out his elbow in invitation – the one farther from the road, of course, gentleman – and you chuckled, unable to help yourself.
“It was my idea, you know. Also, depends – are you going to be a jerk?”
“You wound me, miss,” he clutched at his chest theatrically, but definitely tugged you a bit closer when you slipped your arm through the loop of his own just in case you were about to change your mind when another of his jokes inevitably arrived.
“Sure I am.”
You barely made few steps without a word, when his gaze fixed on your face for long enough for you to get nervous.
“…what is it?”
He smiled, gently tugging at your joined arms, and looked you dead in the eye. “I really like you too.”
Oh. Oh. Okay. Where did all the oxygen go? And when did your heart started pounding so loudly in your chest?
“And for the record, I find it impossible not to fall for you.”
You lowered your gaze under the intensity of his, watching your feet walking in tandem as your cheeks burned and your head spun.
“A friggin’ warning,” you muttered under your breath darkly, drawing a breathy chuckle from Steve, followed by his ‘I mean it.’
Truth was, a warning wouldn’t have helped, probably. Because Steve Rogers was impossible not to fall for; but he was definitely worth it.
💙❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️🤍❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️💙
You weren’t sure what possessed you; must have been the wine, lowering your inhibitions.
Once again, you couldn’t contain your child-like behaviour.
One moment, you were walking in the park, dim street lights causing the snow glow brighter, fluffy and pure, as not many people were here to disturb the peace. Even the city fell almost silent in the first snow’s honour, as if grateful for the good two inches it was given.
The next moment, you freed yourself of Steve’s warm hold and hurried from the path to gather enough of the wet delight to make a snowball – and hit the pole nearby streetlamp with a surprising precision.
You turned to Steve with a grin, finding him mirroring your expression and clapping, a sound muffle by his own thin gloves.
“Very good aim. I’m impressed,” he assured you and you curtsey for him like the child you were and went to try again.
Before you could finish making a perfect ammunition, three balls hit the very same pole in quick succession, causing you to gasp and swiftly turn to Steve – who winked at you with a shit-eating grin on his face.
It was a justified display of smugness, because he stood almost ten feet behind you, the distance from which he hit the pole actually impressive.
Wow.
“Show-off,” you called out silently, drawing a shrug from him. You went to try your aim again to settle the unofficial score and whined when you missed. “Okay, you win, Rogers.”
Steve, on the other hand, continued his strike and hit three more; you noticed him bending for more snow, making a quick and very dumb decision as an idea popped up in your mind.
As he was busy showing off his skills, you got your own two bullets ready and shot-- one of them did hit your target, which just happened to be Steve’s chest.
His mouth formed a theatrical ‘o’ and you couldn’t but double over in laughter despite missing with your next attempt.
“You didn’t!” he gasped, clearly genuinely shocked that you in fact had hit him with a snowball. “Now you’ll get it!”
In hindsight, you should have known that it was like waving a red cloth in front of a bull; you should have realized that Steve would take it as a challenge to a snowball fight.
And it was very obvious from the start that you stood no chance, even if he was blatantly holding back as you tried and failed to hide behind a bench, behind a tree and anything in your reach, your and his laughter carrying through the park as if you were damn children, both of you. You hadn’t felt so alive in years.
Steve however stepped up his game upon you hitting a point of him so high that some of the snow clearly got behind the collar of his coat. The hiss he let out and the flames in his eyes when they met yours after your perfect hit made you run away with all you got, your heart thumping in your ribcage frantically as you knew all too well that there was no escaping a supersoldier.
You tried and failed to speed up as you heard him closing in; perhaps it would be much easier to catch your breath to run faster if you weren’t laughing at the expression of pure shock that had been on Steve’s face when the snow tickled the sensitive skin of his neck.
A yelp escaped you as he grabbed you a tackled you to the ground, spinning you to he would take the brunt of the impact and only then he rolled you over – trapping you against the cold wet ground, making you squirm at the biting sensation on your own neck.
“No! No, Steeeeve,” you whined miserably, but your cheeks were hurting from the laughter and he was a solid mass on top of you to keep you warm, so you didn’t have any reason to complain. You in fact enjoyed the feeling and the intimacy of it a little too much, considering that this was still only your first date.
How? You felt like you knew him for months now; it was like having an unfairly handsome best friend you not-so-secretly had a crush on.
“You brought this upon yourself,” Steve exclaimed, grinning down at you and for the first time, it dawned to you that not only his torso way lying on you and that his hands were caging your head as he tried not to crush you with his weight, but also his gorgeous face with his tempting lips were in dangerous proximity to yours.
Dangerous to him – if he wasn’t careful, he might get kissed very soon.
You stared up at him, lost in the beautiful colour of his eyes and you were only mildly ashamed to find your gaze wandering down to his red lips.
“I—I suppose,” you whispered as your laughter died down, your breathing still heavy and only growing heavier with each second spent mesmerized by Steve’s face so close to yours.
“You suppose right,” he whispered back, voice slightly hoarser than a moment ago, his gaze roaming your face with intensity that had your heart stumbling in your chest. “This is a nice trip down the memory lane.”
“I-uhm… I remember it being the other way around.”
A smile grazed his mouth, still so damn tempting and you really found yourself barely noticing the snow melting into your clothes when—him.
“You complaining?”
You smiled right back when he lowered his head a fraction, so so painfully close you would barely have to move to finally taste his lips.
“Well, the snow is cold, but-- you know how it is… I had worse things happen to me than having a handsome fella land on me.”
Steve chuckled, the vibrations of his chest sending liquid fire through your veins, especially when his eyes seemed to brighten despite the dilatation of his pupils.
“You remember that, huh?”
“You kidding?” you mused quietly, wondering if Steve decided to torture you; if he wasn’t about to kiss you in the next thirty seconds, you might actually combust. His gaze was now more on your mouth than anywhere else and if you were honest, you might have been trembling with anticipation a bit. “That was the line, Steve. I thought you were so smooth.”
An inch. One damn inch, if not less of a distance remained between his lips and yours, practically touching, his radiating warmth and begging for yours to lick at their sweetness.  
And yet, Steve still spoke, words you could almost taste: “What do you think now?”
“I think that I’d really like you to kiss me.”
This time, his lips brushed yours, a soundless ‘kay’ tickling deliciously, your eyelids fluttering shut.
Your hands automatically gripped the lapels of his coat, using them as leverage when he withdrew, giving you space to breathe and process what happened. Too bad you didn’t want to, you needed more right in that moment; you tugged at the fabric, chasing after his lips and lifting your head without even opening your eyes.
You could feel his smile as he kissed you again, lingering this time, a tender dance of lips, parted a fraction to breathe in each other’s air. Your head was spinning, your tummy tingly and you truly felt like you could fly, not even ashamed if Steve was grinning at your eagerness – he seemed pretty board on with continuing to kiss you too.
So you smiled back, happy to let him take the lead as long as he stayed-
A discontent hum rambled in your throat when Steve retreated again, even if he caressed your icy-cold nose with his, dropping a kiss there too to warm it up.
You met his eyes, heavy lidded, misted with emotion and you found yourself smiling wider.
“Can’t have you catch a cold, doll,” he rasped and before you realized what was happening, before you could as much as frown in confusion, a silent yelp left your throat as Steve rolled you over again, one arm secured around your waist, keeping you on top of him.
You might not be lying on the snow anymore, but your wet back was exposed to the cold night air now, which wasn’t much any better.
But you were too busy to care, because Steve lost one glove, cupping your cheek for a better angle and he sank his lips into yours again, causing you to see and feel the stars.
💙❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️🤍❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️💙
If Steve walked you all the back to your apartment and you invited him in to dry off, only for him to end up spending the night, well, no one needed to know – even if you kept each other warm with nothing but tea and cuddling under the covers.
Whether things got a little more spicy than sweet in the morning… that was only for the two of you to know.
Either way, you decided that while the fall, early or late, had its serious downsides… you were willing to put up with it, because it had brought someone as amazing as Steve into your life.
Which got even more handy when you ended up catching cold from your snowy adventures.
💙❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️BONUS❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️💙
Blissfully wrapped in each other, not you nor Steve (which was more of a wonder) noticed two pairs of eyes focused on you and your shenanigans in the snow. Neither of you heard Bucky sigh under his breath either as he lowered the night-vision binoculars.
“Thank God, I thought for a minute that the punk wasn’t going to go for it,” he muttered under his breath, handing the device to his field partner.
Sam took one glance through the binoculars before rising his hand for a high five, which Bucky instantly complied with.
“With the way they eye-fucked in the restaurant, I would have to rip him a new one if he didn’t,” Sam stated.
“You’d have to get in the line behind me,” Bucky retorted, but grinned, truly happy for his friend.
“More like get ready for being ripped a new one,” a voice behind them opposed, causing both soldiers to nearly jump out their skin in surprise – and literally jump to their feet in fright, ready to face their enemy.
Their enemy seemed harmless to an untrained eye: the one and only Black Widow, watching them with her arms crossed on her chest and a raised eyebrow.
“We knew you were there,” Sam blurted out instinctively, earning an eyeroll from the redhead.
“Sure you did,” she scoffed and nodded in the direction of the pair still rolling over in snow in the distance. “Now that you know that Rogers still got some game, you going to stop stalking him or do I have to keep an eye on you?”
“Please. You were just curious as we were, otherwise you wouldn’t be here,” Bucky smirked and Natasha shrugged with one shoulder dismissively.
“Maybe. Maybe I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t crash their date to ‘help’,” she said, taking care to make air quotes with the last word. “Now let’s get out of here. If you really want to help, you can start looking up some chicken soup recipes to cure her inevitable sniffles.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Bucky replied dutifully with only an edge of irony, while trying hard to remember the recipe for the soup Mrs. Rogers or his ma used to cook back in the day when the always sickly Steve Rogers refused to take normal (disgusting) medicine.
The thought of Steve not being on the receiving end of that treatment and instead being the caretaker had his lips curl up in a smile.
💙❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️🤍❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️💙
S.R. masterlist
💙❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️🤍❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️💙
Thank you for reading!
I don’t often write sequels to one-shots when asked, but inspiration struck this time (I went to a wedding and caught very mushy feelings). I hope you enjoyed. Don’t sent me your dentist bills, you’ve been warned.
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luytenae · 3 years
Text
Fishing lesson
Hello there! Enjoy another one of the kiss prompts!
Kiss number 22: in a rush of adrenaline
Matenro, the division from Shinjuku, had an entertaining tradition. Every once in a while, whenever their days off coincided with each other’s, they would go fishing. It was a hobby Jakurai had in common with Hifumi, and Doppo ended up tagging along with them. This weekend would be no different, and the doctor even made a reservation to have a guaranteed spot...
If it wasn’t for Doppo’s boss.
“I am truly sorry, sensei… I am just garbage, the worst kind you can find, and I ruined our day out…-“
The salaryman apologised, showing once again his low self-esteem, and sounding pitiful even during a phone call. Jakurai felt he wasn’t helping Doppo enough during their appointments.
“Do not worry, Doppo-kun. Don’t say such things, as it is not your fault after all. We will go fishing the next time, alright? There’s no need to be so hard on yourself…”
Jakurai cut him during his speech, not wanting Doppo to deprecate himself. He knew well his teammate was sorry, so everything the doctor needed to do for him was to reassure and calm him down. After all, Doppo didn’t ruin a single thing nor was his fault. If it was someone’s fault, it would be his boss for not respecting his leisure time. As he had predicted, Hifumi would make him company in order to finish Doppo’s tasks as soon as possible, so it would be just him at the fishing centre this time.
After –once again– reassuring the couple at the other line of the call that it was going to be all right, he hanged up the phone, making a half smile as he put it back on his pocket. He found lovely how Hifumi could be so devoted to his partner, sacrificing his own day off to help him and keep him company. With his teammates still on his mind, he started gathering his supplies: fishing rod, a replacement reel, lures and everything else he could need.
Just when he was going to leave his house, his phone buzzed again, this time receiving a call from someone completely different.
“Hey hey old coot! Whatcha doing on this loooovely Saturday morning?”
Ramuda’s voice announced him as cheerful as usual. Of course, who else would call him during his free day?
“Why, good morning to you too, Ramuda-kun. I was about to go fishing-“
He announced, holding his phone with his shoulder as he fetched his car keys, opening the vehicle’s trunk to start packing his gear.
“Ohh, one of your booring hobbies? Lemme guess, you’re going with your teammates, right?”
The fashion designer laughed at the other side, rummaging through his desk to pick a lollipop to unwrap and enjoy.
“That was our initial plan, yes”
Jakurai left out a heavy sigh, deciding that his gear could wait for a little, as he found himself incapable of holding the phone with his shoulder as Doppo could do.
“What do you mean with initial?”
Curious, the younger man popped the candy out of his mouth, paying real attention to Jakurai.
“I mean that they cannot come this time, so I am going alone”
“Boo-hoo, then Jakurai must be feeling soooo lonely!”
His curiosity changed to a tone that could be considered a mock or real concern. The doctor, knowing his partner, interpreted his words like what they were: something in between; real concern disguised with jokes, because that’s just how Ramuda was. Jakurai laughed softly, shaking his head a little.
“Why don’t you come with me, if you are so concerned about me being lonely?”
A small gasp was heard at the other end of the call, audible enough for Jakurai to notice the fashion designer’s surprise.
“Uh-mhhhh, fishing sounds a bit too boring for someone like me, but I guess I could go and make you some company! Don’t want my old man to be all gloomy!”
That was Ramuda’s way to announce that he was free and willing to go with him, if only he was honest enough to recognize he wanted to spend the day together with his lover.
“Alright then. I’ll be at your place in 30 minutes, so get ready. I guess you do not have a rod, do you?”
“Nuh-uh! As I told ya, I’ve never went fishing. You see, I don’t have grandpa’s hobbies!”
“Very funny, Ramuda. I’ll lend you one of mine, then”
“Wow, so cool! Thank you babe! See you real soon!”
Before Jakurai could reply, Ramuda ended the call, leaving the older man wondering whether he liked or not to be called “babe”. Letting that aside, he finally got everything in the car and, before heading to Shibuya, he came back home and fetched another rod for his new companion.
As scheduled, the doctor was in front of Ramuda’s shop just in time, only to see Ramuda was waiting for him. Jakurai chuckled, not expecting him to take fishing so seriously. He was dressed with a knee-length jean overall full of patches, a plain and short-sleeved blue crop top, matching sneakers and bucket hat.
“I didn’t imagine you would take this so seriously”
The doctor announced jokingly, rolling down the window and inviting the designer in.
“I must follow the aesthetic, you know!”
Replied the designer, opening the door and hopping in the passenger’s seat, grabbing the seatbelt and securing it. He then kissed his partner on the cheek as a greeting, giving him a paper bag.
“And I got you something too! You gotta be fashionable if I’m coming with you. I can’t let you ruin my reputation as a top designer”
Sceptically, Jakurai took the bag before starting up his van, checking what was inside. The contents surprised him, as he was expecting a present like the one he received last time –when Ramuda gifted him that one hat with the “women want me, fish fear me” phrase–. This time it was also a hat, but a decent one. One Jakurai could wear without having everyone’s eyes on him. The doctor smiled, putting it on and kissing his partner’s cheek.
“Thank you for gifting me this. I shall cherish it”
Ramuda giggled, opening a lollipop and lifting it cheerfully.
“You’re soo cheesy! I just wanna see you dressing fashionable for once, and not like a grandpa!”
Soon enough, the couple headed to the fishing centre, Jakurai driving back to Shinjuku. The ride was short and full of bickering from Ramuda to Jakurai and vice versa, since the doctor couldn’t help but fall right into the other man’s shenanigans.
After parking the car, they both got out of the car –Ramuda previously put on a pair of sunglasses–, got the fishing gear, and proceeded to go in. The staff welcomed the older man, as he was a regular there; and was asked about where did his teammates were as well as who his new companion was. It didn’t take them longer to realize he was the leader of Shibuya division, because Ramuda soon started to behave like, well, like him. The room was soon filled with cheers echoing how cute he was, as the designer was laughing and taking pictures with everyone that wanted one.
“I’m glad you’re already having fun, Amemura-kun. I can’t wait to see how will you react to fishing itself”
Jakurai waited for the crowd to calm down, heading right to his partner and gently reminding him what were they going to do. The smaller man put his phone back on his pocket, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand and going with him to the ponds.
“Since it’s your first time, I should tell you about this place”
The older man led the way, waltzing around fellow fishermen and families that went to enjoy their day.
“This is the Ichigaya Fish Center. People from both Shinjuku and other places frequent it, and, as you can see, it is family friendly. That’s because they don’t have a focus on professional fishing, having a small pond with goldfish that’s very popular among children”
Seeing his usual spot free, Jakurai went there, placing everything –starting by opening their chairs– down. Ramuda launched himself to the chair, enjoying the remains of his lollipop while the doctor continued his explanations.
“Since it’s your first time fishing, I’ll guess you don’t know how a rod works, am I right?”
“Yup! I mean, I know that you have to use a bait and things like that…”
Ramuda stopped mid-sentence, appearing paler and frowning.
“Wait wait waaaait a minute there. I’m totally NOT touching a worm, for your information!”
Jakurai laughed, sitting by Ramuda’s and starting to assemble both rods.
“Rest assured, it is not allowed to use live baits. They only permit mashed baits, so you will not be touching any worms”
The young man let out a relieved sigh, now intrigued by the doctor’s assembling task. He would ask him whenever he got a question, no matter how silly it could be; and Jakurai replied with pleasure, thanking Ramuda’s interest. It didn’t take them long to be completely ready, Jakurai handing Ramuda a rod and making sure he was holding it right.
“Always make sure to tie the knot tightly. A bad knot may make you lose a good catch. Understood?”
“Right and clear, mister!!”
And, like that, Jakurai taught his partner how to throw the rod, what led to a couple of failed attempts –where a fisherman’s hat was related, as well as an apology for “fishing” his hat– and a final success that made Ramuda enthusiastic enough to keep going.
“It’s important to know that fishing takes patience. Do you think yourself capable of such thing?”
Jakurai joked, receiving a pout as a reply from the pink haired man.
“I can be pretty patient if I want, humph!”
“Alright then. Keep an eye on your bobber, and if you see it shaking, then a fish is nibbling on the bait. If you see it going completely under the surface, quickly set the hook before losing the fish”
“Aand… How do I do that?”
His question was answered with actions: a fish happened to nibble on Jakurai’s bait, and he took that as an opportunity to teach Ramuda.
“It’s simple. You just have to do this–“
As soon as the bobber submerged completely, the doctor quickly rose the pole, pointing it straight in the air.
“By doing this, the fish will swing to you. Like that, you will have successfully catched a fish”
The designer looked at him in awe, amazed by the scene –and by how hot the doctor when he rose the pole–. He set down his rod and rushed to Jakurai, who was now holding his catch gently.
“Remember to hold it carefully. Pond fishes don’t usually have sharp teeth, but you may find fishes with spiny fins and, overall, they are very slippery. You have to hold them behind the head, without fear and gently”
Ramuda looked at the carp full of curiosity, admiring how his partner was holding it. He estimated that it was about 60 centimetres long, and laughed at the sight of its moustache.
“Before releasing it back, we remove the hook with these–”
Jakurai motioned to his other hand, showing a pair of needle-nose pliers. He took out the hook with ease, showing his skills and how accustomed he was to the activity, leaving Ramuda to wonder for how long he has been fishing.
The younger man took out his phone, making the doctor pose for a picture. Jakurai agreed happily, letting him take a picture.
“This is bringing back some memories! I used to be your teacher, but you’re the one teaching me now!”
They both smiled bitter-sweetly, remembering the old TDD days. The bitterness didn’t last long, because now everything was in the place it should be. No more misunderstandings that could make everything tangle up the way it was tangled before.
“Now it’s your turn, Ramuda-kun. Show me what you can do”
As soon as the picture was taken, Jakurai put the fish back on the pond, watching it swim away before sitting back and launching again his rod.
“Alright! Well then, here we go!”
Ramuda launched his pole, looking to Jakurai occasionally in order to check if he was doing it right. After he reassured him, he gazed again to the bobber, frowning as he focused on the task.
“UGH! This is taking forever! Why don’t they come faster?! Silly fishes!”
As the older man had anticipated, after 10 minutes motionless, his partner lost what little patience he had.
“What was the first thing I told you before starting, Ramuda-kun?”
“That it takes patience…”
He replied, somewhat irritated and frustrated.
“And what did you answer?”
Jakurai kept the conversation going, taking his chance to bicker the designer.
“Geez, I know, I know! I gotta wait! Now shut up, old coot!”
The lilac haired man laughed, launching his rod back in the water and providing Ramuda with small talk to help him overcome dullness. As someone who had lots of energy, he needed to be in constant movement; and activities such as fishing could be frustrating due to long waiting times and needing to be calm and quiet. For that, they kept talking about whatever topic they could find, keeping the designer entertained and focused –not losing his patience was the main goal–.
Their counting, after a while, was still negative for Ramuda. Jakurai managed to catch three medium sized carps and a big one, whereas the younger man only had a couple of failed attempts.
“I swear if I don’t get one the next time, I’m launching this stupid rod to the pond and never coming back!”
The doctor could notice how this was more frustrating than entertaining for his partner, and started to feel sorry for bringing him here. But the feeling didn’t last long, because soon enough Ramuda’s bobber went underwater again.
“Now, Ramuda-kun! Do it as I taught you, quickly!”
The designer reacted swiftly and, thanks to his efforts, he finally succeeded and raised the pole straight, catching his first fish. He grabbed it just like Jakurai told him to, and right after taking out the hook, he started to jump enthusiastically, laughing with pride and showing off his “prize”.
“Look!! I got it, I got it!!”
He couldn’t help but laugh, smiling widely for his picture. The doctor felt relieved, letting his recent thoughts go away, washed by his lover’s laugh.
“Yes, you did it very well. Congratulations on your first catch, my love”
Moved by the adrenaline, Ramuda jumped to kiss him after releasing the carp, clutching to the doctor’s neck and trusting him to hold him. The kiss was eagerly replied, Jakurai caressing his hair after putting him down again. The designer’s broad and sincere smile was something he would never get tired of watching.
“See? You just needed to be patient”
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