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#and eat chinese food in front of the tv on the coffee table in their pjs
inactive02 · 1 year
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valeria x F!reader (141 member)
Tittle: "everything feels better when you have company"
a/n: this is a request from someone, including a flirtatious valeria but i put a little wholesome spin to it
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As much as you love being a part of the great family 141, it can be a lot of stress and work, but you didn’t have a problem with that. This one sparky character, Valeria, plagued your mind like a virus. The first time you met her when you were actually looking for el sin Nombre, after being tied down in that chair in the same room with her, turns out she’s the target you’ve been searching for.
Even when you interrogated her, she was looking at you with a big grin, teasing you the whole time in front of your 141 members. While you put your keys into the front door of your home, the memory feels like it was yesterday, all that happened a month ago. 
The silence in your home wasn’t uncommon as you stepped in, walking inside to sit your stuff down in the living room, “sora” you called, waiting for the cat to come in, there wasn’t even the slightest noise from her.
Deciding that maybe she went off to sleep, you head into your kitchen and flip the light, walking towards your refrigerator. Opening up the fridge, barely food but only a bottle of water, taking it and drinking it with big gulps. “You know, cariño. This cat is very cute” you choked on the water that you were drinking, and turned to the source of that voice. It’s Valeria, she was in your home?! How did she know where you live? How did she even get in?
“How did you find out where I live?” You exclaimed, looking more scared than surprised.
She held your beautiful brown cat, gently petting it “well, I am a cartel leader, no one hides from me” she remarks still giving the kitten a few scratches, you take this chance to take in her appearance more. Wearing a black tank top, exposing her tattoos that you caught yourself looking at the first time you two met, and the outfit she’s wearing is the same exact one she was wearing when she had you strapped down to a chair.
Taking a few steps into the kitchen, you noticed she wasn’t armed at all, only having her knife on her, “like what you see?” Just from her tone, you can tell she was grinning like a high school girl.
“You still haven’t answered my first question”
“Can’t a girl visit a pretty lady once in a while, it’s not like I came to kill you or something” she remarks before letting the kitten run away, turning her full attention to you “you should really put more safety measures for your home if you are going to be a part of the 141” leaning on the counter in front of you, watching you closely, what was she planning?
Closing your fridge with a noticeable slam, you stare daggers at her, “you came here for information about them, or are you here to do some kidnapping”.
“Why would I need to kidnap you when you’ll go with me willing” she leans back onto the counter more slightly, biting her lips “the fridge was empty, you should order something for us” the sound of her knife grazing the inside of its holster as she takes it out, pointing at you.
                   ☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉
You could imagine the look on soap’s face if you told him that, el sin nombre was sitting on your living room couch eating Chinese food with you like you two were long-time friends. Her eyes were focused on the tv while her legs were kicked up on the coffee table, it wasn’t like she was forcing you or holding you captive. Maybe, maybe, it’s something else.
“Does it taste good?” She asked you, putting down her food as her arm drapes across the couch. You couldn’t take your eyes off those beautiful dark brown eyes, and the dark black hair that was illuminated by the TV light.
Snapping out of your daze, licking your lips, “it tastes fine” eating a bit more of the tasty food.
“Food always tastes better when you're eating with someone” so that’s the answer to why she’s in your house, she knew everyone else would’ve put her behind bars but you, you didn’t, only welcoming her in, not the slightest of judgment.
“I wonder if you enjoy being a cartel leader”
She clicks her tongue before saying, “It’s not so pleasant when you have to watch your back every second”.
“What about now, you're in a 141 home, I could’ve easily called any of my comrades to come to get you” you felt comfortable enough to lean back onto the couch, slightly feeling more comfortable than before. You can hear a slight hum beside you as a response.
“Well, it seems like you haven’t, maybe you do enjoy my company, mi princesa” her soft fingers took your chin in between digits, bringing your lips towards hers and indulging in your soft lips. The feeling was so nice, warm, and gentle to you, as you kissed her a smile crept onto her lips, seeing you lean forward for another.
The slight caressing of a thumb on your cheek made you look up at her brown, shimmering eyes. “Everything feels better when you have someone here, right amor”
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svechnikovvv · 1 year
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lake days & a broken nose (2)
pairing: trevor zegras x hughes!reader
warnings: profanity
summary: it’s been months since you broke trevor’s nose at the lake house. what happens after that?
a/n: this is a part 2 since someone requested it (: you can find part 1 here
masterlist: here
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ever since i broke trevor’s nose, and apologized profusely about it, we’ve become closer friends. we even exchanged numbers and would text everyday.
i was on my way back to my small apartment on campus since my senior year started. i unlock the door and cut the lights on. i practically jump out of my skin when i see someone on my couch.
“trevor?”
“the one and only.” he gets off the couch and engulfs me in a hug.
“holy fucking shit, i missed you so much.” he laughs
“i missed you too, hughesy.” we pull apart and i look at him, not believing that he was in front of me.
“what are you doing here? how’d you get here?” he laughs at my rapid-fire questions.
“i came to surprise you, and i flew here.” my eyes widen
“all the way from anaheim?” he nods “that’s too far. you didn’t have to do that.” he shrugs
“missed my favorite hughes,” he then leans in. “don’t let the other three know that you’re my favorite.” he shoots me a wink
“it’ll be our secret,” i tell him and set my bag by my bedroom door.
“sorry the place is a mess, i wasn’t expecting company.” he looks around at the space and laughs.
“you think this is bad? try rooming with four other hockey players who are superstitious.” i wince
“i’ve seen the guys on the team and they look like they’re messy.” he gasps
“you aren’t seeing other hockey players behind my back are you?” he jokingly asks and i place a hand over my heart.
“i would never.” we both laugh and i fall back on the couch.
“you fancy takeout and a movie?”
“depends on where and what movie.”
“i was thinking chinese and happy gilmore.”
“i’m sold.” he takes a seat beside me and i grab the takeout menu from the coffee table. i hand it to trevor and he takes it, scanning it.
“orange chicken.” is all he says and i nod
“good pick.” i grab my phone and dial the number, calling in the order. they said one of us would have to go and pick it up and trevor volunteered to do so.
“here’s my car keys,” i stop him before he leaves the room. “leave a scratch on the pimp mobile and you’ll have another broken nose.” he holds up his hands
“don’t worry, it’ll be in mint condition.” he then leaves the room to go get it. i turn on the movie and have it on pause as i wait. figuring he’d be a minute, i decide to take a shower. and like any sane person, music is a must. if you don’t go on tour to at least half the globe, what are you doing?
i grab a shampoo bottle and start to belch the lyrics to when i was your man.
“ALTHOUGH IT HURRRRRRTS, I’LL BE THE FIIIIRST TO SAY THAT, I WAS WROOOOOOOONG.” this part was my absolute favorite of the song because of the way he drags out the word ‘wrong.’ once my tour and shower was done, i change into my pajamas and head back into the room to see trevor sitting on the couch with a very amused smile on his face.
“you were pouring your heart out.” my fave goes red and i grumble, sitting beside him. he takes our food out the bags and places the trays in front of us on the table.
“oh! i also bought some sprite. figured we get thirsty.”
“smart idea, let me go grab some cups and ice.” i get back up and head to the kitchenette, grabbing two cups. i fill them both with ice, heading back to the couch. i hand trevor his and hold mine out for him.
“to the brim, z. the. brim.” he laughs and pours sprite into my cup, filling it to the brim as asked. i take a sip and sigh of content.
“sprite is like flavored tv static, but i love it.”
“that’s going to fuck with me for the rest of the day.”
“good.” we then get comfortable as we eat our chinese food and watch happy gilmore.
“adam sandler is such a god.” trevor says with a mouthful of rice.
“if i ever met that man, i’d probably cry and shit my pants at the same time.” trevor laughs and sprite comes out of his nose. i laugh at his predicament and he grabs a paper towel, wiping his nose.
“that burned. i can now smell sprite.”
“i’m just that funny.” he rolls his eyes.
it was starting to get late and trevor hadn’t left yet.
“where’re you staying?”
“was figuring i could crash on your couch?”
“oh nonsense. we can share my room.” he nods and we walk into my room.
“welcome to the fortress of y/n-tude. you can set your bags by the closet.” he does as told and drops his duffel bag and then unzips it, pulling out a hoodie and some sweats.
“do you-” my eyes widen and i nod.
“oh yeah, of course. my bad.” i turn around and face the wall as he changes.
“okay, im done.” i turn back around and my breath is gone. how does he manage to make a hoodie and sweats seem so nice?
“y/n?” i snap out of my trance
“yeah?” he laughs
“i asked if you wanted to sleep on the left or right side of the bed?”
“yes. uh, it doesn’t matter to me.” he nods and gets in on the left side. i slide in on the right side and i cut off my nightstand lamp.
“goodnight trev”
“goodnight y/n/n”
somehow throughout the night, trevor and i ended up tangled with one another. i woke up to my head on his chest and my arms wrapped around his torso.
“morning y/n/n,” i hear his husky morning voice and i look up at him. he goes to move but i groan and stop him.
“five more minutes. you’re warm” i close my eyes again and he laughs, running his hand through my hair. i could get used to this everyday.
“trevor?” i sleepily ask and he hums
“i think i’m in love with you.” i can feel his heartbeat quicken and i sleepily smile.
“you don’t mean that.” i open my eyes and look up at him
“i meant every word.” i give him a sleepy smile and he smiles too.
“thank god, i didn’t know how much longer i could go before i told you.” we both laugh and he places a kiss on top of my head. my phone then buzzed and i reach over and grab it, answering the facetime call. quinn’s face then appears on the screen.
“q! how’s my favorite older brother?” he laughs
“i’m good- wait. who’s with you?” oh shit
“what do you mean?”
“y/n, i can see someone’s hand. and unless you became a contortionist, who is it?” i sigh and look up at trevor really quickly to see if he’s okay with it. he nods and i move the phone so that it’s facing him.
“trevor?!” i hear quinn gasp and trevor waves
“hey quinn…”
“okay, i saw this coming anyways.” he brushes it off. “but trevor, if you break my sister’s heart, you’re dead.”
“would never plan on it.” quinn, trevor and i continue to talk for a bit before he has to go for his morning skate.
“should we call j?” trevor nods and i click on jack’s contact, facetiming him.
“hey sis, what’s up?”
“there’s uh, someone i want you to meet.” he gasps
“you have a boyfriend?” he gets excited and i look up at trevor and smile, nodding.
“cmon, who’s got my little sister cheesing?” i point the camera at trevor and jack gasps.
“i fucking knew it! i knew it!”
“how does everyone know?” trevor asks and jack and i laugh
“you both made it very obvious.” jack says “anyways, glad to know you’re both finally together. now i have to go. bye you two, don’t do anything gross!” he then hangs up and i set my phone on my nightstand, cuddling into trevor even more.
“the others can find out later. you’re warm and i don’t wanna move.” he laughs and i fall back asleep in record time.
it’s funny how a broken nose can bring together two people.
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tags: @goldenbrokenheart @liquidflyer @woodruff-edwards @hockeyboysarehot @ajbird2010 @hughesx3 @hannahh01938 @theywantedplayer @k1ttyt3ar @jackhughesily @fratboyzegras @marauderzkinnie @babydollmarauders
a/n: part 2 is finally here (:
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cts-ryu-writing-desk · 4 months
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Dumplings
This is not to my usual writing style, but this was a fun little one to work on. And I've had the idea in some regards for a while now. So getting it penned feels good. Enjoy!
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As the rain poured down outside, a rather beefy man in his late twenties rushed in. More flabby than beefy with a wide frame. He came in quickly carrying only a bag of Chinese takeout. This large fellow was Neil, a quiet guy, he usually and preferably kept to himself.
He went through the lobby and over to the elevator and rode it to the fourth floor. He could hear them shouting through the walls again. Those noisy neighbors down the hall.
As Neil approached his door he noticed the noisy neighbor's door opening. Neil quickly undid the lock and rushed inside. The rustling of his takeout bag was all the noise that echoed in his dark apartmen.
He could smell the savory aroma filling the room. Getting everything on what he could feel was the counter he turned the light on to his kitchen. A single loveseat with a coffee table facing the TV. There was only one room and it led right to his bedroom and bathroom.
Cleaning off one of the only two forks he kept went channel surfing , so he had something to listen to while he ate. It didn't matter what as long as he didn't have to think about his shifty day.
Neil was pulling out family sized portions of fried rice with shrimp, char Sui, minute chicken, sweet and sour pork, and an order of dumplings. Neil looked through the bag, he eventually found it. His order of three orders of spring rolls. Everything looks delicious. The dumplings must’ve gotten mixed in with his order by mistake. He didn't order any. Neil shrugged his shoulders, "free food," he said to himself
He set in his love seat the spread of food in front of him. Looking at the spreadsheet wondered where to start. This was like something out of a piss poor comedy scene: a big guy eating a lot of food in one sitting.
Neil's eyes were drawn to the dumplings. An order of three, if it was up to him he'd have ordered more. But free is free. He quickly swallowed them up practically whole. He went on to the char Sui, after a few bites he started to hear his stomach groan. "Hungrier than I thought," he mumbled to himself
Over the hour he was eating Neil was shoveling down every morsel of food. His stomach would feel tight as he finished off each plate. Yet he'd still feel an intense hunger.
He was completely unaware of the swelling going on around his stomach.
Neil's stomach was getting round and tight as it ballooned out. His attention stayed at finishing off every last bite. It took him an hour and twenty minutes to scarf down every bit to the point that there wasn't so much as a crumb left.Once completed he felt nice and stuffed. He always knew how to stretch a budget.
Part of his usual ritual was to wipe his hands down his chest and over his stomach. Giving it a few good hard slaps for a meal well devoured. This time as he let his hands glide over his chest he felt his stomach at last. Finally noticing the intense weight and spherical protrusion. He quickly looked down, seeing the prominent globe of a belly.
He found getting to his feet quickly cumbersome. The weight made it difficult to run, or walk with haste. Shuffling as best he could to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror quickly, looking himself over.
Neil was already a rather large gentleman, never the skinny kid and always hefty. His large frame now had an accentuation of a globular orb now resting on his stomach. His shirt couldn't even cover it all. Not flat, flabby or even a hint of a roll in sight. Just a perfectly round, taut gut.
Neil lifted his shirt taking in the sight. He couldn't believe it . He was lost in a state of panicked daze and surrealness. Seeing the skin he was nice and tight. Not a hint of a mark, cut, nothing. A true ball belly. "What the fuck," left his lips looking at his reflection
He felt a flutter in his stomach. The skin pressed out stretching and retracting suddenly from his rounded shape. Neil froze. It happened if not on a different area of his stomach. Then again and again shortly after. Suddenly there was a flurry of these sensations throughout him.
"Ah, what the fuck!" Neil cried out in his quiet apartment
His stomach was alive, so to speak. He fumbled to get his phone out of his pocket. What was he gonna do, how would he explain this. He felt a surge of pain rush through him. It brought him to his knees. A loud rip down his backside took out his pants. A bad day to freeball.
He felt it again. It came quickly and suddenly in fast waves. An overwhelmingly strong sensation to piss. The pain rushed down his body straight through every fiber of his being and down to her bones. What was happening? What could he do? The pain kept him in place. An intense pain washed over him as he felt his cock expanding. Widening like trying to push an orange through his urethra, such overwhelming pain. Neil nearly blacked out.
It was stretching out the tip of his dick. Opening the eye and creeping out slowly, pushing like he was forcing out a piss. He groaned in pain when he suddenly felt a huge relief from the pain and pressure. The calm didn't last. It came again. Struggling to squeeze out another, and another soon after that.
Exhausted from the pain, and now feeling incredibly empty. Neil managed to see their little bodies covered in bile, wiggling their umbilical cords still in his now numb and stretched cock. Neil's eyes widened.
Days later the headlines read “man births triplets” the lesbian finally knowing someone else got their special order of dumplings.
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solbach-colbrock · 2 months
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Movie Night - Seth Borden X Reader
SUMMARY - Movie night with Seth WARNINGS - established relationship w/ Seth and reader, fluff!!! WORDS - 939 NOTES - requested by @1f0undth1sinth3trash ~*~*~*~
Nights like this were the nights you lived for. The house cold from the pouring rain outside, thunder rolling through the dark night as you gathered every blanket you could find. The door creaked and clicked shut as Seth closed it behind him.
“Food’s here!” Seth called from the entryway. You smiled, hearing his feet pad from the front door to the kitchen. The blankets were placed in a haphazard pile on the couch. The string lights around the room gave a very cozy atmosphere. At first, you made fun of Seth for wanting to get the purple ones (of course he wanted those), but you could now admit that they fit really nicely. They felt like him, and that simple fact made you like them all the more.
            Burrowing under your mountain of blankets, you found the remote for the tv and turned it on, fingers barely poking out of the sleeves of the hoodie you had stolen form him months ago to press the buttons. You scrolled through Netflix to find his favorite movie. It was his turn to choose, but you knew what he was gonna pick anyways.
            The cushion dipped next to you as Seth sat down, placing the Chinese food in your lap and the drinks and various other snacks on the coffee table in front of you. Balancing his own plate with one hand, he slotted his free arm around your waist and pressed a kiss to the side of your jaw. His hood was up, as it almost always was, and brushed against your skin as you instinctively leaned into him. 
            “How did you know what I was gonna pick?” he mumbles against your skin, pressing another kiss to your shoulder.
            “I’d like to think I know you pretty well at this point, babe,” you respond, pushing his hood back to run your fingers through his hair. “Besides, you always pick something super cheesy, and you mentioned this movie to Josh literally last week and said you wanted to rewatch it soon.”
            “Mmm. Oh, should I grab popcorn?”
            “Maybe later. Right now, I’m in desperate need of food and cuddles.”
            “Fair. Come here, baby.”
            You giggled as he pulled you closer to him, kissing him once for good measure before you started eating. He reached over to press play on the remote, officially starting your weekly movie night.
            It was a vast improvement on the days he was traveling. Whenever he was away filming a video, even if it was an ungodly hour wherever he was, he would FaceTime you on the date of your movie night so he was at least somewhat be with you. Even being able to see his face and hear his voice on those nights, it still wasn’t as nice as this. On those nights you missed him desperately, so when he was home like tonight, you made sure to hold him extra close, and extra tight. His hand drifted up the back of your shirt to glide along the skin of your back. You melted into the touch, leaning impossibly closer to him as you took another bite of your food.
            “Ooo, this is my favorite part!” He whispered into your shoulder.
            “You say that literally every time, Seth,” you said, rolling your eyes.
            “And its always my favorite part. What’s your point?”
            The weather continued to roll and pour outside as the movie continued. Seth kept interjecting with his own commentary, sometimes through mouthfuls of food or almost choking on his drink to get the words across. You loved him too much to find it annoying. At least it was fairly entertaining, and you had a tendency to remember certain parts of the movie because his comments made you laugh hard enough for the moment to stick in your brain for awhile. 
            By the time the movie was over, you had made your way into his lap, and both his hands were pressed to your skin as he held you, his lips pressing lazy kisses to your back as he got more tired and comfortable. Empty plates and packages of snacks lay discarded on the coffee table. He had stopped paying attention to the movie 20 minutes prior, opting instead to devote his attention to you. It never failed to melt your heart how affectionate he was with you. You wouldn’t trade it for the world.
            “Seth, love, the movie ended ten minutes ago,” you said softly, turning slightly to make sure he could hear you.
            “Hmm? Oh, shit, yea. We should clean up and get to bed,” he replied, finally looking up. He rubbed at his weary eyes, leaving the spot on your side where it was placed cold from the sudden lack of touch.
            “As fast as possible though. I want to get back to being held,” you smiled, brushing a lock of hair behind his hair.
            “Counterpoint: we sleep right here and deal with all this in the morning.”
            “You make a compelling argument, Borden. I’m inclined to agree.”
            You let out a yelp as he firmly wrapped his arms around you once again, pulling you and the blankets the two of you were buried under down with him. After adjusting the blankets so they properly covered the two of you, he pulled you into yet another kiss, cradling your face to pull you into him deeper and deeper until you needed to come up for air.
            “I love you so much,” he whispered, thumb making gentle passes over your cheek. His eyes scanned every feature of your face, lingering on your lips, before finally setting on your eyes.
            “I love you too.”
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Valentines day. The day for couples to go our and celebrate their love for each other. The day to eat sweet things, or to fuck the brains out of your partner.
Ha! For me, it's another day for me to work, get greasy Chinese take out and Vodka. Oh and to watch crappy Netflix movies. Why am I like this?
1. I work a lot. 12 hrs shifts at the bakery that I love so much.
And
2. Had a lover once. Thought he was the one. Dark dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, and the best fuck I'd ever had. He was sweet, and a bit arrogant, but that didn't bother me.
But all things came to an end. Broke my heart and I kicked him out of my house. Still think about him from time to time. Makes me smile, but sometimes brings the bitterness out of me.
Which brings me to today. Closed the shop, and walked to my local go-to Chinese restaurant. The owners know me, sweet little omma. Always gave me extra good and tried to hook me up with her son. But that never works.
Heading home, I walked into my apartment, turning on the lights and placed my food onto the counter. The sun was about to go down I started to get my dinner ready. Plating up Salt and Pepper Chicken Wings, Lo Mein, and nice hot bowl of Egg Drop Soup.
Settling down on my couch, with my Vodka Sprite I turned on the tv when my doorbell rang. I ignored it a few times, knowing it would be my noisy neighbor trying to have dinner with me. Sweet lady, but too much gossip.
The ringing continued and I was now full blown pissed. Putting my food down on the coffee table, I headed to the front door. I didn't bother to check the peep hole, knowing very well it was my neighbor.
"Marg-" I said, as I stood frozen.
My eyes stayed glued in front of me. His blue eyes look back at me.
"Um hi?"
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bulkhummus · 2 years
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the one day a year where jon lets his eyes wander where they please — ft. my oc’s as stand-ins for the general public on their way to a costume party
instagram // tip jar
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boytouya · 3 years
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SHAWTY U KNOW IM SENDING IN A REQ.
HELLO HELLO I REQUEST
DABI AND HIS DILF BF SUPPOSED TO HAVE A NIGHT OUT BUT COULDNT FIND A BABYSITTER FOR THE KIDS SO INSTEAD ITS FAMILY MOVIE NIGHT AND PIZZA AND CHINESE FOOD FOR DINNER WOO!!!!
𝘿𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩
Warning: Parenting
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Dabi was supposed to pick you up to go out, but it seemed the universe had different plans. When you first met, Dabi’s introduction to you had changed his expectations for everyone else. A single father of two children, twins, with the most energy he’s ever seen. Dabi was never one for children, but something about seeing you kneel down to pick them up or give them piggyback rides made his chest warm with something he didn’t want to explain. You were the standard. You were his standard, and everyone should strive to be like you.
He knocks on your apartment door once, twice, a shocking third time, before swinging his arm back down to his side. Dabi wasn’t the type of man to worry about if his outfits fit any type of occasion, but was a leather jacket with ripped jeans too casual? What about his piercings? Should he have taken out his gauges? Or his eyebrow piercing? Fuck. He’s been to your house multiple times and yet he’s still nervous. Fuck.
The door creaks open in front of him only slightly, and there you are, in all your glory. He can only see half of your face, watching you peek out and speak through the door with a frown on your face.
“I’m sorry, just a second,” You shut the door with an apologetic smile, leaving Dabi in your hallway. It’d be a shame if someone walked out and saw him. The villain presses his ear to your hardwood door, listening to you scold someone with the softest voice he’s ever heard. He straightens himself up once he hears your footsteps returning, clearing his throat as you open the door. Wide this time. “The babysitter cancelled on me last minute, but I was hoping you’d still want to have a date here instead?”
“Sounds like you’re asking yourself that.” Dabi masks his nervousness before you can deny his response, striding into your clean (besides crayons and ‘experiments’ from your children) apartment and being swarmed by your kids.
“Thing One,” Dabi pats the top of your daughter’s head. “And Thing Two. How’re my favorite ankle biters?”
“Don’t call them that!” You laugh, shutting your apartment door and enveloping your children in a hug as they argue over who exactly gets to be Thing One. You don’t even think they understand the reference.
Dabi makes himself comfortable on your couch, plopping down and resting his free arm on the top of it like he owns the place. His manspread and smug smirk makes him look undeniably cliché, and you don’t hesitate to take a seat next to him, your kids following behind. They manage to squeeze right between you and Dabi, your son placing his finger through Dabi’s gauge until you tell him to stop.
“I’m bored, can we watch a movie? Oh, Oh! And can we get pizza?!” Your kids turn to Dabi instead of you. You want to interject, explain that it’s rude to interrupt two adults when they’re speaking, but the way your children are so comfortable around Dabi makes you fall silent. When you first met they were afraid of him, whispering to you about how his burns and staples were scary. Since then you paid extra attention to telling them it was never okay to think about people that way, and the more they spoke with the villain, the more they liked him.
“You gotta ask the Boss, buddy. But if it were up to me, you could watch all the movies you want.” There’s a glint in his eye as he looks over at you with a wink.
“And eat all the junk food we want too?!”
“More than you could ever imagine.”
“Dabi!” You swat his palm, watching him flex his hand into the position of a claw at you. His press against his rings. The sight of them makes you smile, he gave your son one of his rings the first time he commented on them. The clawed hand holds onto your wrist and snakes upwards, settling to lazily hold your hand as you squeeze it back. You missed having a relationship like this, but something tells you it’s different because it’s Dabi. “Stop lying to my kids.”
They groan, your daughter pulling out the remote to the TV from God knows where, surfing through channels and Apps until she settles for something scary, once again looking at Dabi for approval. You’re too busy scrolling through a delivery service to notice Dabi squeezing your hand, but your head perks up when the movie starts.
“What did you put on?” You ask after confirming your order.
“Paranormal activity.” Your daughter says simply, but you can tell she’s holding back a laugh.
“You know your brother is scared of scary movies!” As if on queue, your son starts screaming before anything even happens, pushing his face into your chest and flailing his arms around. It sends your daughter into a hysterical fit of laughter.
“Oh, no… Would hate to tell ‘em it’s all real.” Dabi snickers, your daughter giggling wildly as your son screams into your arm.
Your doorbell rings, the sound vibrating against the walls and into your ears. It sends your son into a fit of screams, he throws himself at Dabi, who’s laughing louder than you’ve ever heard him laugh.
You make a show of tiptoeing over to the door, placing a finger over your lips and opening it cautiously. It’s just a box of pizza with two bags of chinese food on top, but it sends your children into a fit of dramatic screams.
“The ghost left a gift for us.” Dabi smirks.
“The house is haunted!” Your daughter grabs a pillow and shields her face from the emptiness of the doorway.
“We’re all gonna die!” Your son screams as he pulls Dabi away from the door.
“No one’s dying,” You chuckle, shutting the door with your foot and moving over to the coffee table. You can hear Dabi groan at what you say next. “Well, maybe your hunger.”
You set up plates of food for your children, throwing a small bag of egg rolls to Dabi, who’s perked up on the couch. He pats the spot next to him, watching you move over to him with heavy plates occupying your hands.
“Daddy, can Dabi sleep over tonight?” Your children say in unison, their heads turning to face you as they chew loudly. You can tell they’ve been rehearsing the question, your son is bouncing in his seat as thrumming his fingers against the table. Dabi looks at you with just as much anticipation, slowly chewing along with the buzzing background of Paranormal Activity.
“Only if you two promise not to stay up too late.”
A smile spreads across Dabi’s face as he pulls you by his side, his staples pulling against his cheeks as your children rejoice and run to Dabi’s side. This must be was family truly feels like.
469 notes · View notes
kyberphilosopher · 3 years
Text
Cerise
Those are people who died, died Those are people who died, died They were all my friends and just died.
Word Count: 5736 Warnings: Crime, Weapons, Mentioned Murder of a R/pist, Crude humor.
Jason’s friend and roommate, another Gotham villain, is ordered to return to Task Force X.
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ce·rise/səˈrēs,səˈrēz/ [noun] a bright or deep red color.
.✫*゚・゚。.★.*。・゚✫*.
Let’s open up our story on a colorful note: Fuck Amanda Waller. 
Nobody likes her. You don’t like her. Jason doesn’t like her. None of the characters in this story like her. Arguably, none of the characters in your present universe like her, either. There’s a reason why people call her “The Wall”. It’s because that’s what it’s like talking to her. And that’s what it would be like trying to deny the request she’d passed on to you in her letter. 
It weighed on your mind briefly as you walk up the stairs of your apartment building. By the third flight, the weight’s pretty much disappeared. Sure, there’s anger at Waller for violating your agreement, but it’s so useless being annoyed with her that it washes away fast. So by the fourth flight, the whole thing is settled in your head to completion. You’ll go back to your Suicide Squad- or a Suicide Squad, considering most people Waller selects are idiots. Then you’ll do the job, and walk away bing, bang, boom. 
You tip your head politely as if in salute to the older woman, Mallorca, who occupies the apartment across from you. She returns a warm smile that raises her prominent and wrinkled jowls, igniting the fire in her warm brown eyes. “You need me to do your laundry again?” 
Of course an angel such as Mallorca would make such an offer. It’s not a bad offer, either. Your dark, silver lined chest plate is splattered with blood all over the front. It’s nobodies blood that doesn’t deserve it, as per your agreement with Waller. Just some perverted little prick who thought with his dick instead of his brain with the wrong girl. She looked frightened, and you saved her, and since the prick had just hit 18 (a fact you learned after rummaging around his wallet after), you had permission to bash his brain in. Hence the blood splattered vigilante armor. 
The first time Mallorca had seen such a sight, she had no reaction whatsoever. You weren’t sure what else you were expecting from an old woman living in a back alley apartment building, but it certainly wasn’t that. She offered no shock to your red masked, blood stained roommate either. Mallorca is simply an otherworldly being. And is that cocaine you see on the collar of her shirt?
“I got it,” you throw in return, rounding the corner so she’s at your back, and nearing the climb up the next and last flight of stairs. “Hey, is Jason home?” But when you turn around fully, Mallorca shows no intention of responding and has disappeared down your previous staircase. You clasp your hands against the sides of your thighs, “Oh, okay.”
You make your way up the final steps and stick a hand in a secret back pocket to fish around for your keys. You wince when you begin the rigorous task of tugging the lanyard free from the depths, which unfortunately fell near to your back hole. Then you slip the key into the lock and twist. 
Inside your apartment is near emptiness. There’s a couch, a rug, some windows, a TV, and to your immediate right is a small kitchen beside a hallway that leads to a bathroom and two bedrooms. You see the large plant you’d stuck in the corner is wilted and tinged brown, and the TV is playing some movie with the sound muted. No sign of your roommate, however. 
You toss your helmet and keys onto the couch. Then you make your way to the kitchen to search the fridge for a snack (that you know is not there) or perhaps some water. You bend down to peek an eye in, only to stand back up and close the thing. Then you pass over to the counter, and reach up to now peek an eye in the overhead cabinet. 
“You’re home early.”
You let out a short-but cathartic- scream, jumping as you turn around. You relax quickly. It’s only Jason, and your face changes from shocked and panicked to simply annoyed. 
The man at the other side of the room pulls his infamous red helmet from atop his face. Underneath is a classically masculine, handsome face with eyes that blend between green and blue. Black hair falls free in messy strands, accented by the one white tuft that you’ve claimed reminds you of a skunk. You tilt your head lazily in defeat. “How many times have I told you not to do that?”
Jason shrugs in his red hoodie and jeans, walking across the room to set the helmet on the coffee table. “Four. Any particular reason you’re home so early?” he flops himself onto the couch and kicks his feet up, crossing them tastefully next to the Red Hood helmet. 
You turn back around to continue the task of grabbing a cup from the top cabinet. “It’s been five, and I apologize for assuming I could do what I wanted in my own home.”
“If you have to ask me to stop sneaking up on you five times, you’re probably a really bad vigilante.”
“Fuck,” you mutter as you fill the cup with tap water. “That’s true.”
You turn around to face Jason. His eyes are already on you, illuminated by the blue glow from the television. They linger purely on your form for a moment, then they dip down to narrow at your armor. “Were you the one who killed that guy on the back of main?”
You furrow your brows and look up with pursed lips in thought. “Are you talking about the main diner or the main records shop?”
“Main diner on main street.”
“No, that was Azrael. This was by the records shop.” You raise the glass to your lips.
Jason snaps his fingers. “Oh, that guy. The kid?”
You nod and take another sip of the water. “He just turned eighteen, so you know. Free game. So, what do you want for dinner? Pick something good. I’m going back to the squad so I won’t be here for a few weeks.”
Jason’s brows furrow for a split second, then he perks up attentively. “You’re going back to the task force?” he repeats, though it sounds defeated and disbelieving. Distraught- is that the word you’re looking for?
“Yeah,” you shrug. “I got the letter-” you set the cup of water down and reach a hand into your pocket. Then you pull the crumpled envelope free of its confines and toss it onto the counter, “-today.”
Jason’s eyebrows furrow again. This time the movement is quick and curved and almost offended. “So, that’s it then?”
“What’s wrong, Jason?” you smirk. “Did you finally fall in love with your roommate turned friend? I always knew this day would come.”
“Uh, no?”
“Suit yourself.”
You turn back around and begin rinsing the cup out. Jason watches your back, something in his chest sinking. You weren’t his best friend. Besides living together, you weren’t really all that close. You were living a life a lot like his, running around at night as some antihero vigilante. The only difference was that you’d crossed paths with Waller and had managed to make it out of her system alive. Most antihero vigilante’s weren’t so lucky. Most of them died. But now you’re telling Jason right to his face that you’re going back. That you think you’ll only be gone a few weeks when it could just be forever. Sprayed with dark blood all over... what if it was yours?
“Actually,” Jason leans forward. His legs drop from the table and spread open, elbows resting against his knees with a hunched back. “Why don’t you pick dinner tonight?”
The glass clinks against the metal of the sink as you set it inside. Jason almost always picks dinner. Most of the time he chooses burgers or Chinese. Your apartments stove isn’t working, so eating from home really just means a BLT sandwich for the both of you. 
“Are you offering because you’re hoping I’ll choose that new steakhouse?” you smile.
“I’ll get you anything you want,” the man replies. “It’s on me.”
.✫*゚・゚。.★.*。・゚✫*.
Jason meets you on the roof of the building about an hour and a half later. You wanted to go with him, since you’d say his behavior is different from usual, but he was very adamant about you staying in. Jason even encouraged you to go ahead and pick your favorite movie to watch while he’s gone. 
When you told him you’d decided on the steakhouse option, you meant it ironically. Between the two of you, money could be described as ‘tight’. Going to a new place like that would mean saving for a while. Furthermore, you hadn’t even given him your order before Red Hood was gone. 
To his credit, looking at him now, you wouldn’t change a thing. The first bite of the food is phenomenal. The second bite is just perfect. Jason must have mind reading powers to be so aware of your taste in food- you’d thought he never noticed. 
He gets a steak, as predicted. Jason loves steak. 
Gotham looks most like itself at night, a view shared between the two of you. Two sets of legs dangle over the side of your building, both of which are clad in heavy boots and armored knees. Jason had decided to go out as his alter ego- a fact he thought he could keep from you by putting his hoodie under his leather jacket. 
“I saw you put your helmet by the door,” you tell him. “I know what’s under that sweatshirt.”
“No you didn’t,” is all he says back. 
The wind tickles the back of your neck. It ripples through the air in lazy waves, making Jason’s hair ruffle. The white skunk streak disappears and reappears between the darker-than-midnight-sky strands. Behind Jason, the moon is full and lonely. Its only company is the two of you. 
“Oh my god,” you stuff your mouth. “This is so good.”
“Hm,” Jason hums in agreement, stabbing his steak once again with a fork in his black to-go box. It’s the next movement of his shoulder that catches your eye. 
“Jason, is that cocaine, or powder donut dust?” 
Jason glances over at you. 
Your eyes linger on the white splotch of something in the wrinkles of red fabric. “Because I asked you not to eat them since there’s only two left.”
Your face slowly falls to one of horror as Jason stays still. With a face of steel, he finally says, “It’s cocaine then.”
“Then?”
“Look what I got you.”
Jason sets his box to the ledge beside him and leans down. 
“Worst subject change ever.” You take an angry bite of your meal in an attempt to both silence yourself and to make you feel better. Unfortunately as you pull away from the bite, crumbs attach themselves to your chest plate and stick to your fingers. “Crap. Jason, your dumb food is getting shit all over my stuff!”
When you look over, Jason’s orbs are already on you. His eyes pierce yours, almost unintentionally daring them to look away. The skunk strands glow this close. He holds two things in his hands. The first is a small, brown pot you could balance in the palm of your hand, filled with miniature yellow and red flowers. Scarlet tulips, golden sunflowers, and blonde alstroemerias. In the other hand is a Blu-ray copy of your favorite film. 
“Oh,” is all you can muster out. 
When was the last time the two of you had actually exchanged gifts? You weren’t lovers, or best friends. You were just friends. It had to have been last Christmas, when you had gotten him a TV subscription for South Park and a pair of socks. Jason had gifted you a new bedframe that he later helped you put together. 
A big smile reaches your eyes and makes your cheeks sore. “I haven’t been able to find this anywhere,” you say, taking the movie from his fingers. Your voice comes out pure and genuine. “Thank you.” Your smile grows even larger when you cup the pot of flowers with both hands. 
“All of the flower shops were closed,” Jason explains. “Those are plastic. They won’t die anytime soon.”
At that moment, you swear you could’ve kissed him. He’s looking at you like this is all nothing, like he didn’t just drop big money on dinner and flowers for you. Jason knew what food you wanted before you did. He knew your favorite movie when you can’t even remember saying a thing about it. When had any other man or woman been so thoughtful? So romantic? So caring?
You glance down to the film in your lap. “I didn’t think you payed attention this well.”
Jason’s brow quirks upwards. Something flashes in his eyes as he adjusts his position, seven stories up from the ground. “What kind of roomie would I be if I didn’t?” he asks. Something tells you there’s a shyness blooming in that broad chest of his. Jason’s eyes flit downward to the blood on you, before his head dips back upwards to lock a stare with you once more. “You smell nice,” he states.
You look up at him simply. You know your eyes are filled with pure adoration, and that it’s showing all over your face, but you don’t care. Your red hooded, drug pedaling, bat wrangling, gun toting equal roommate is your favorite person in all of Gotham at this exact moment. 
Behind Jason, a small bird flits overhead with a flash of crimson. “Hey, look,” you pat Jason’s shoulder. His eyes follow yours until they land on the floor of the roof behind you. “I think it’s a robin.”
“I know that bird,” Jason scowls. “That’s the son of the bitch that keeps waking me up in the morning.”
“Hm?”
You watch as Jason swings his legs over the side and pushes himself from the ledge. One hand reaches into the back of his pants while the other searches his leather jacket pocket for something. After a few seconds, he produces both a clip of ammo and a gun, which connect with a click. 
“Ah!” you yelp, placing both the flowers and movie on the brick before copying your friends actions and standing on the roof. Jason hasn’t shot yet, but the gun in his hand is aimed right at the little birdie. He’s got a clean shot. His face remains neutral and unmoving as you take your place beside him. 
It’s a full minute, and the robin is still alive and intact. He nibbles on a little crumb of bread. “He looks happy,” you think out loud. The air of Gotham goes quiet up on that roof, despite the distant sirens, music, and people throughout the city. “Are you gonna shoot?”
Jason’s finger lingers over the trigger. Even the slightest of a squeeze would set the weapon off at this point. The balls of your feet move to and froe, anticipating the bang you’re so familiar with. But then Jason lowers the gun completely, and the robin flies away at the movement. “Nah. He’ll feel the pain I dish out in the morning.”
“Don’t be sad,” you nudge Jason. “He’ll be back at six AM tomorrow to wake you up.” You turn to return to your beckoning food on the ledge. “Thanks for all this, anyway.”
“You’re welcome,” you hear Jason respond. “Hey Y/N?”
Jason watches you spin until you’re completely facing him. He can see the blood again. How it’s completely standing out against the darkness of your outfit. You look powerful, yeah. And you look like the antihero you’re labeled as. But all Jason sees is a corpse of a... of a friend. “Yeah?”
“You’re sure about this Waller thing?”
“Yeah?” you reply, as if it were obvious. The stain on you is so haunting it’s easy to think otherwise. “It’s not like I have much of a choice. It’ll only be a few weeks. I’ll be back before you know it. Then I can show you this sick ass movie.”
Then you go back to walking towards the ledge to retake your seat. But Jason remains standing. He watches as you, the person he thinks of naked so often, get comfortable, your back facing him. And, despite your word, Jason has the sinking feeling that some Suicide Squad mission isn’t the only place Amanda Waller will send you to. 
This time, Amanda Waller will send you to your grave.
.✫*゚・゚。.★.*。・゚✫*.
This was supposed to be out on August 16th, for Jason’s birthday. But the concept came to me too late and I spent too long on it. Anyway, here’s some symbolism for ya.
Tulips symbolize unconditional love. Sunflowers symbolize adoration. Alstroemeria’s symbolize devotion. The reader describes the plant in their apartment as turning brown, suggesting it may share a similar fate as the reader as plants go brown when about to die. Robin’s symbolize optimism, a trait the reader displays towards the idea of returning to the Suicide Squad. Robin was also a former identity of Red Hood. Both of which could be why Jason decides to spare the bird. 
I’ll go back and proof read this in the morning.
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userholland · 3 years
Text
all for her [2]
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pairing: dad!bartender!tom x female!reader
warnings: excessive drinking, cursing, mentions of blood, violence, etc.
summary: a single-dad bartender, a supportive best friend and their continuous, unrequited love noticed by his optimistic daughter. is it possible to break a heart they never knew they had?
word count: 10.8k!
the soundtrack:  dancing with your ghost - sasha sloan, chinese satellite - phoebe bridgers, never the 1 - rosie, waiting room - phoebe bridgers, guilty conscience - 070 shake
a/n: im so happy with the response from part 1 & excited that part 2 is now here!!! i think i’ll try to end with the next part but..... who knows. again, thank y’all for the feedback & hope you enjoy!
— masterlist ☆彡
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
The night Summer was left on Tom’s doorstep was one he would never forget.
He moved into his apartment a month before and it was becoming more than the four, blank walls. It was in a quiet neighborhood, facing out to a street view of family-owned businesses and a bus stop. People passed the street often during the day, a good opportunity for people-watching from his small terrace. But when he closed the windows and locked the door, the feeling of being alone quickly settled in for the first time in his life. 
The thought of being independent was reliving now that he had a part-time job. He'd be able to live off his earnings with no guilt and bring whoever he wanted without disturbing his roommates. Even though he had his own place of solitude and privacy, Tom still managed to visit you at campus now that he was closer compared to the hours of driving before. He considered it as a pro to moving, but he really just needed any reason to just have you close.
Most times you’d come over, saying you had homework and studying to do, but with Tom, you never got anything done in one sitting. You made dinners together or ordered something in the middle of the night, watch movies interrupted by your playful comments or you would take a nap between your classes while he did his work.
The two of you were inseparable now throughout college, not stuck with the limited possibilities of what your small hometown gave to you. Everything was going smoothly and Tom was looking forward to what his future looked like, maybe even see you ending up together, but things took a turn when he opened the door and saw Summer, small and swaddled, in the baby carrier at his feet.
It was a Sunday, having your ideal night-in watching your favorite movie, and ordering food for dinner. Your head rested on Tom’s lap, your eyes trying to focus on the TV but they fluttered. Tom had his arm around the back of the couch with his right foot on the coffee table. Sometimes he’d glance down at you, making sure you didn’t fall asleep because you had more studying to do, but he gently shook you every few minutes when he thought he heard your light snores.
“Hmm, I’m awake.” You grumbled.
“Judging from your snoring, I don’t think you are.” He smiled, moving your hair out of your face.
Your face scrunched together, “I don’t snore.”
“You don’t? Not like this?” He jeered, making an obnoxious noise as he leaned his head back.
You pressed your face against his cheek, tilting his head to the side and lightly gripping at his hair. Laughs and giggles echoed the apartment as you fought like kids, Tom’s hand holding your wrist to push it away from his face until the doorbell rang.
“Finally! I’m starving.” You said, thinking the Chinese food was here.
You jumped up from the couch, walking into the kitchen to get plates. Tom chuckled as he headed toward the door, “Are you excited? I couldn’t tell.” He said sarcastically, grabbing the tip money off the kitchen counter.
The baby was asleep, her chubby cheeks were a rosy pink as well as her lips. She looked peaceful bundled in a soft, yellow blanket, but fear instilled within Tom. He wasn’t sure what to do, his mind starting to race and his heart beating faster. He took a few steps into the hall and looked both ways. It was ominous how no one was around, yet there was someone at the door a few seconds ago.
“Hello?” He shouted, his hands against each side of the doorframe.
You furrowed your eyebrows, “What’s going on?” You nervously chuckled.
The moment your eyes met the baby at Tom’s feet, your mouth slightly gapped with a trailed gasp.
“This has to be a joke…” Tom trailed.
You kneeled, reaching for the note tucked in by her leg. It was on a torn piece of notebook paper with Tom’s name scribbled on the front in pencil.
“I can’t take care of her. Please understand. Maggie.” You read off, biting your bottom lip.
He continued to stare at Summer, her hair barely grown and her skin so pink. He assumed she had been born a few weeks ago, maybe months. All he could process was that there was a baby on his doorstep and he had no idea what to do.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
It took a few minutes to get Maggie calm, but they went in the hall to talk so Summer didn’t wake up. It was none of your business, but you still stood close to the door with your back against the wall as their muffled conversation faded in and out.
“How did you even find me?” Tom asked.
“None of your business.” She snapped, “I don’t know why this is  such a big deal.” Maggie chimed, crossing her arms.
Tom scoffed, “Because you’ve never made any effort to see her and suddenly, you want to come and pick her up and take her like she’s a puppy in an ad you found this morning.”
She smiled in spite, “Don’t talk to me like that-”
“How else am I supposed to act? You just told me she’s not mine!”
“Because she’s not! I had to dump her on someone!”
Every word that came out of Maggie’s mouth felt like a repeating stab in the heart. He couldn’t believe anything she said, convinced he hated her at that moment, but he somehow held his head high because he knew he’d fight for Summer no matter what Maggie could tell him.
“You’re not taking her. End of discussion.” Tom uttered, tears welling up in his eyes.
Maggie reached into the back pocket of her denim jeans, pulling out a folded piece of paper, and forcefully handed it to Tom. He stared at it for a few seconds, his hand lightly shaking as he slowly opened it by the ends.
“You still think I’m lying?” She scoffed as they both glared at the paper.
It was Summer’s birth certificate, dated on this day six years ago which made time seem so fast. His dry, tired eyes searched the paper until they locked to the father’s name box, a name he didn’t know and certainly wasn’t his.
“Either I call the police now or you give her… right here, right now,” Maggie growled with no hesitation.
Tom clenched his jaw, “You can’t-”
“I sure as hell can… and we both know you’re not dumb so, just give her to me.” She demanded as if Tom could process all of this while his world was crashing around him.
Tom licked his lips, sealing them to hide the pain that ached in his heart and spread throughout every nerve of his body. A single tear fell down his cheek, but he quickly wiped it with the back of his hand. Tom wanted to composed himself to stay strong, but he didn’t know he could crumble so easily from a small number of words.
“Can we do this tomorrow? I just wanna spend one more day with her.” He asked politely, the whites of his eyes now a light pink.
She stood there, not saying anything and her arms were still crossed.
“Please… Maggie.” Tom pleaded, feeling a bit pathetic.
Tom thought back to that conversation, replaying it in his head so much that he didn’t sleep all night. His constant shifting throughout the night didn’t let either of you get much sleep, but it’s not like you were either, laying there and wondering how much you could do. 
You were surprised he didn’t cry, shout or lash out in some random outburst of pure anger. It’s what you would’ve done, but you knew that Tom was trying to convince himself it wasn’t real. The denial would eat him alive, only because he believed Maggie was telling the truth and would take Summer no matter how hard he thought of a way to not let her.
“Tom?... Tom!” Your voice seemed miles away.
Tom glanced up to meet your eyes, letting out an embarrassed chuckle as his ears tinted pink. The sounds within the diner became audible to him, not remembering how he got lost in a daze. 
“In your own little world again?” You grinned, knowing that he was always one for thinking too much.
“Yeah, sorry, I’m fine.” Tom rubbed his hands down his face and straightened his back against the booth.
You sealed your lips, “You can talk to me about-”
“I’m fine, Y/N.” He retorted, nodding his head at you.
“Okay…” You trailed.
When his whole world was turned around the night before, you choose to not take his short attitude personally. All you could do was be there for him and you wanted to try your best. Seeing his hand rested on the table, you placed yours on top and reassured him, “It’s gonna be okay.”
He didn’t look at you, but you laid your head on against his shoulder. You caressed your thumb over his skin before grasping his hand and giving it a light squeeze. You brushed your cheek against his black hoodie, smelling the fresh lavender and nuzzling against his arm to remind him that you weren’t planning on leaving or letting him go.
Summer ran down the empty aisle, jumping into the booth and she laughed to herself, “I got this!”
You leaned up from Tom so he could see what she had in her small hand. Her casted arm rested on the table, signatures written all over it from her birthday party.
“It’s for you.” Summer smiled, putting the object in Tom’s hand.
He glanced at it, seeing a small plastic container with a yellow top sealing it. Inside was a cheap ring with the metallic paint partially chipped off and there was a blunt blue jewel in the middle.
“You sure you want to give it to me? It’s so pretty.” Tom managed to smile back at her, observing the ring.
“Yeah, Daddy. I promise.” She grinned, her tongue between her teeth as she flashed another smile that he thought resembled his.
Tom didn't want to believe that someone so full of spite and bitterness could be her mother, but he didn't have the heart to tell her. No matter how much he could hate Maggie for what she’s doing, Tom couldn’t ruin their possible relationship because she was her mother.
After the three of you finished your late breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and bacon, you got up to use the restroom, but also gave time for Tom to say his last goodbyes to Summer alone. You rubbed Tom’s shoulder before you slipped out of the booth, keeping your eyes on him until you turned the corner.
Tom grinned at her, but he still wasn’t sure how to tell Summer about Maggie other than she was spending the night with her for a while, thinking she would take to it but instead a confused look painted on her round face.
“I thought Y/N was my mommy.” She admitted even though he had denied her multiple times that you were.
He couldn’t hide his smile, “I’ve told you she’s not. She’s my friend. My best friend.”
“Daddy, I don’t want to go. I wanna stay with you and Y/N.” Summer persisted, placing her blue crayon down. She always got a wrinkle between her eyebrows when they furrowed.
“It’ll be a few days,” Tom assured, but he didn’t know.
“But, I don’t wanna.” She whined, bouncing a bit in her seat.
As much as he wanted to, Tom couldn’t say no. He knew this was going to happen before he could know anything else was going behind his back with Maggie. Summer pouted her lips as her mood changed, leaning back with her hair pushed up against the booth.
Tom shifted over, “Come here.” He asked her, patting where you were sitting earlier.
Summer wiggled out of her side of the booth, touching her feet to the ground before quickly lifting herself into the seat and curling up next to Tom. He wrapped his arm around her and kissed the top of her hair, feeling an instant warmth even though she was so tiny. It was as if he blinked and was surprised to see her growing so fast. His sweet daughter went from a toddler with bright blue paint on her hands and knees and blossoming into a young girl with ideas that could reach the moon and back.
“It’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna have so much fun. I promise.” He sniffled, his voice cracking a bit.
“Pinky promise?” She asked, lifting her casted arm to him.
His lip quivered, but Tom quickly smiled, “Promise… and we always keep our promises, right?”
She nodded, wrapping her tiny pinky around his then squeezing it tight, “Always, daddy.”
Tom remembered when she was only able to wrap her whole hand around that same finger, wondering where the time went. He wanted to go back to when she barely had hair on her head or when he had to follow her around the room when she started to crawl, as she grabbed at stray cords or tried to get under the couch. 
“You have all your stuff?” Tom asked her.
“Mhmm, got my colors and favorite books.” Summer nodded, grabbing a piece of bacon off Tom’s place, “Do you think she’ll read them in the voices? Like you and Y/N do?”
Tom sealed his lips, “Maybe if you ask her nicely.” He cracked a smile, moving Summer’s hair out of her face.
As you walked up to the booth, Tom lifted his head and mouthed to you that he was okay. In the bathroom, you had to compose yourself before Maggie showed up. No excuse could make this situation better and all you could do was be patient and be there for Tom. While that was easier to think of, you knew as soon as you made contact with her bright green eyes, all you wanted to do was yell and protest that she doesn’t deserve to feel good about this.
“What did I miss? Anything interesting?” You joked, trying to keep the mood light.
“Daddy said I’m gonna have a lot of fun this weekend.” Summer mentioned, smiling at you with her crooked smile.
You gulped, your throat feeling dry, “Yeah, lots of fun.” You forced a grin.
The low music over the speakers filled the silence, not knowing what to say about this, especially in front of Summer. Tom kept his arm wrapped around his shoulder, but he stared out of the window with his hand on his chin, slightly covering his mouth. He didn’t want to cry, he was trying, but the more Tom thought about how there was a chance he couldn’t get Summer back, the more he dug deep to find a way to stop it.
“Hi, Tom.”
He quickly turned his head, seeing Maggie standing in front of the booth. She wore a sleek leather jacket with a maroon shirt underneath and it intimidated Summer. She furrowed her faint eyebrows, but Tom pulled back his arm around her.
“Hey, Maggie.” He didn’t look in her eyes.
She didn’t pay you any mind, choosing to ignore that you were sitting right there, but it’s not like you wanted her to give you any attention.
Summer scooted out of the booth along with Tom, both of them standing across from Maggie. There’s no doubting it was an awkward situation, but nevertheless, Tom continued to stay mature about it. He grabbed Summer’s backpack off the ground, helping her put both her arms through the straps.
“Okay, kid. I’ll see you in a few days.” Tom chuckled with his hands on Summer’s shoulders.
“Promise?” She asked, her big eyes so glossy.
He immediately clenched his jaw, knowing lying to her would hurt like a stab to his heart, but maybe it was for the better right now. There were many ways he could reply that didn’t sound like the lie it was yet he couldn’t come up with anything except, “Promise.” because he knew he would try to keep it as much as he could from where he stood.
Summer wrapped her arms around his legs as tight as she could, “I love you, daddy.” She mumbled.
“I love you too. Always.” He said before kissing the top of her head.
She looked over her shoulder at you sitting in the booth, not forgetting to say goodbye to you too. Summer walked up and got on her knees in the booth, feeling them sink into the cushion. Her small arms wrapped around you and you giggled, giving her a tight squeeze back.
“Bye, Y/N.”
“Bye, Summer.” You grinned, giving her a last glance.
She shimmed once more and stood in front of Maggie, still standing there with her arms crossed and one of her eyebrows arched.
“Let’s get going,” Maggie said, her happy tone sounding forced.
Without caring to hold Summer’s hand, Maggie began to walk away, but Summer stood still. Her little heart was racing, not sure what to do even though she was told to go with this strange woman who was supposedly her mom.
Tom glanced at Summer, his lips going to the side as he watched tears well up in her eyes. She sniffled, looking down at her feet and her body felt frozen. It was a new feeling to her, not knowing why she was suddenly so scared. It reminded Tom of her first day of kindergarten. She hid behind his leg while they stood in the hallway and all the kids slowly filled the room. He tried to nudge her to meet a new friend, maybe talk about her hobbies, but she was gripping on his jeans from how scared she was.
Just like he did on her first day of school, Tom kneeled on one knee in front of her. He angled his head to look into her eyes, trying to see her full face. He tilted her chin up and wiped her tears with his thumb, catching them as they ran down more.
“Hey, you remember when we saw the penguins at the zoo?” He grinned.
She nodded, her lip pouted.
“And you remember what the zookeeper said? That penguins always find each other, no matter where they are or how far they are... they’ll always find their way back to the colony… and just like penguins, we always find our way home too.” Tom explained, fixing the end of her jacket.
“Really, daddy?”
“Of course. You’re gonna have to keep your head up for a few days though.” He gulped, a small smirk on his lips.
Summer leaned in, wrapping her arms around Tom’s neck again and he coiled her arm around her, squeezing her arm tight. He left a quick kiss on her temple and Tom slowly stood up, trying to pull himself away so it didn’t become harder to leave her.
Maggie stood a few feet away, a bit of disappointment in her eyes. She thought this was going to be the easy part of this process, but it proved harder now that she could visibly see the bond Summer and Tom had created. You watched her lips pin together, not knowing what to do but stand there until they were done talking.
“I love you.” Summer said to Tom again.
“Love you more, kid.” He chuckled, his voice breaking from holding back his tears, “Remember to keep your cast dry. Okay?”
She slipped away from his arms and Tom’s heartfelt heavier the more he said his goodbyes. Summer held her head high and walked up to Maggie, lifting her hand up for her to hold. Maggie hesitantly reached for it, but she glanced at Tom for some kind of permission to. Tom sealed his lips and you slid out of the booth, standing behind him as you watched the two of them walk outside the diner.
“She’ll be back soon.” You whispered, rubbing his tense shoulder.
“Yeah…” He trailed, forcing a grin for you. Tom knew he didn’t have to fake his emotions for you, but right now, he didn’t want to admit he was torn apart inside.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
The days didn’t pass by as quickly as Tom hoped. He didn’t realize how fast work was when he had Summer to come home to. It was hard for him to get out of bed, make meals for himself or concentrate on anything he was doing. Luckily, you were there for him or, at least, tried to be. You weren’t sure what would happen to your friendship after your sudden kiss, but you felt like it was inappropriate to bring up with what happened after it. Even though the status of your possible relationship was unknown and your feelings were still strong, you were there for Tom no matter what.
In the morning, you stirred in the sheets and felt the soft fabric of the pillow against your cheek. As you reached your arm over on Tom’s side of the bed, your hand brushed over the cotton linens which made you slowly open your eyes. The duvet was folded over and his pillow was propped up, showing you he had been up for a while before he got up. You let out a long yawn, stretching your arms and legs and feeling the cold air against your skin.
You walked around the bed, grabbing the blanket at the end of it and wrapping it over your shoulders before leaving the bedroom. When you got to the end of the hallway, you saw Tom sitting on the couch with a box in his lap and a few pictures scattered on the cushion. Your lips went to the side as you approached him, trying to be quiet but the sound of the floor creaking made Tom look over his shoulder.
“Morning.” You grinned, standing behind the couch.
You ran your hands over his hair, playing with it before you looked at the pictures. They were of Summer since she was a baby, most of them were birthday pictures or other special events, like when she lost her first tooth or the first time she stood up. Tom cherished the memories, hoping they would make him happy, but all they did was remind him how he felt like a failure.
“Good morning. How’d you sleep?” Tom asked, his voice groggy and deep.
“Fine, and you?” You replied as you trailed your hand from his hair, walking over to the kitchen.
“Good.” He lied, running his thumb against his left eye before grabbing another picture.
It was Summer’s first Halloween and he dressed her up in the homemade lion costume you worked so hard on. He half-smiled thinking about when you drew in a nose with black paint and she scrunched her face, the bristles of the brush tickling before Summer sneezed. Before you could warn her, she wiped her nose with her hand and you and Tom couldn’t help but laugh. With Halloween just around the corner, his smile fell wondering if they would have another one together.
“Here you go. Dark and two sugars.” You softly said, handing him a cup of coffee, just the way he liked it.
“Thank you.” He weakly smiled, taking a short sip.
“How are you feeling?” You asked.
Tom placed his cup of coffee on the table and collected the pictures so you could sit beside him.
“Better. I got a little more sleep.” He muttered and set the box of pictures on the floor.
You pulled off the fuzzy blanket on the arm of the couch before you sat down, laying it over your and Tom’s lap. Your crisscrossed your legs, holding your mug in your lap while Tom put his free arm around your shoulders. When you turned your head to Tom, he didn’t have the same natural glow to him. 
He was struggling to find some kind of closure, but the lack of communication with Maggie made it hard for him to not overthink. There were no calls and rarely a text. Tom was going crazy, replaying the last moments with Summer in his head.
“Maybe you can skip work today.” You suggested, rubbing the top of his leg.
Tom nodded, “I can’t. I need the tips. Hopefully, I can get Halloween night. I’ll be able to cover child support for the month.” He rubbed the back of his neck, closing his eyes as he tilted his head toward the ceiling.
Your lips went to the side, “Did Maggie say when you’d see Summer?”
He sighed, “No. I haven’t heard anything either.”
“That can’t be legal.”
“Summer’s not mine, Y/N. I don’t get to see her when I want.” Tom retorted as if he was defending her.
“You know that’s not true. It doesn’t matter if she’s your blood, you gave her the best life. Who knows? Maggie probably just forged it. People do it all the time. Why would she just come back when you slept together one time?” You acknowledged, not trusting her for a second.
“I don’t want to get into it.” He replied, taking another sip of coffee.
“Then when are you? Because I know you love that kid more than anything else in the world.” You protested, still facing him.
Tom finally looked your way, meeting your eyes, but he didn’t want to say anything. You didn’t expect a response because you knew that he did love her and he was going to find a way to get her back, no matter how long it took. You tilted your head at him, cracking a smile and tilting his chin up. The warmth that came from your comfort helped him see the brighter side in this, motivating him to see that this wouldn’t last forever.
“You know you’re the best, right?” Tom grinned.
You reached your hand up, intertwining yours with his that was hanging off your shoulder, “I try.” You joked, both of you sharing a light laugh.
You ran your fingers through Tom’s hair, trying to fix it, but he was growing it long as he did in high school. Tom let out a low chuckle, feeling your hand trail to cup his cheek and you rubbed your thumb over his cheek and the faint freckles painted across his soft skin.
While the past few days had been confusing, Tom knew that he wanted to be with you, but he didn’t want to stir you in his drama. As much as you had been there for the past six years, he realized that Summer was his responsibility, and to bring you into a triangle with him and Maggie didn’t seem fair. It’s not because he wanted to push you away for his selfish reasons, but because he wanted to protect you from whatever was going to happen from this point. You were still best friends and would always be, but it didn’t feel like enough after finally kissing each other and not wanting to let go.
As you pulled your hand back, you glanced down and see some of the pictures in the box. You quickly lean down, placing it on your lap and you picked through the various photos before there was one that brought back memories.
“I can’t believe you have this.” You chuckled, holding the photo close to your face.
Tom turned his head toward it, not knowing he had his eyes glued to you, and he instantly smiled.
“Ah, when I was your knight in shining armor.” He beamed at the picture of you with your broken arm and he stood next to you wearing his favorite baseball jersey.
“You mean when you carried my books for me and helped me put on my backpack, oh yeah, I remember.” You grinned, reminiscing to when the world wasn’t so complicated.
Tom smiled, “Don’t act like you didn’t love it.” He rubbed your shoulder, both of you chuckling at the memory. You handed him the picture, but he slowly was reminded of Summer and her recent accident.
“Shit..” He trailed, “I hope she’s kept her cast dry. I should call.” Tom said, unwrapping his arm from your shoulders and you watched him frantically looking for his phone around the apartment.
“Tom!”
“Huh?” He asked, lifting some papers on his counter.
You lifted his phone, his screen cracked, in your hand and grinned, “Looking for something?”
A relieved smile painted on his face as he walked over, taking the phone and he kissed a light kiss against the top of your head, “What would I do without you?”
It was nice to see him turning back to his old self, but you knew that his happiness was at the risk of being at Maggie’s beck and call. Even though you weren’t Summer’s mom, you wanted to have a say where she ends up too. 
You half-smiled, watching him walk down the hall to his bedroom. You turned toward the box of pictures, rummaging through enough to get an idea of how to organize them.
Tom slowly paced across his room as the phone rang, sweat on his palms that he brushed on the back of his jeans. He leaned his head toward the ceiling and tried not to overthink what he could say if he went straight to voicemail.
“Hello?” Maggie retorted, running her fingers through the crown of her hair.
“Hey. I just wanted to make sure things were okay.” Tom trailed as he sat on the edge of his bed.
“Fine, it’s fine.” She lied, searching through her laundry basket.
Tom furrowed his eyebrows, “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, things are fine! I’m just trying to find this stupid sweater.” She grunted, pushing through all the folded clothes.
“What sweater?”
“Some yellow sweater with a heart on that she won’t stop complaining about.”
Summer was sitting on the couch, insisting she wanted to watch her favorite cartoons after breakfast. Maggie didn’t want to deal with the complaining and poking so it was relieving to keep her distracted instead of having to keep Summer entertained while she tried to work from home.
“Oh, I forgot to put it in there. Shit.” Tom cursed, quickly getting up.
He walked to Summer’s room, knowing the exact drawer he remembered placing it in and not surprised that it was there. Tom lifted the sweater, the sleeves unfolding, and seeing how worn it was from the ripped tag. He brought it up to his face, inhaling the lingering smell of watermelon and kiwi from her shampoo.
“Yeah, I got it. It’s here.” He told her, the phone between his ear and shoulder.
“Okay, I’ll come over and get it.” Maggie huffed.
“No, no! I can go over there. I have to go to work later so I can come by.” Tom offered, glaring at the small sweater in his hand.
“Depends, are you going to bring… Y/N?” She crossed her arms as she leaned against the washing machine, “Because I don’t think she’s been a good influence.”
Tom’s eyebrows arched, “Excuse me?”
“Summer says “Y/N lets me do this or Y/N and I do this” and I don’t think it’s good considering she’s not her mom. She shouldn’t have such big control over her.” Maggie said loud enough for Summer to hear from the couch.
“You weren’t there for her and she was so, I’m sorry if she acts like her mom more than you.” Tom chimed.
Maggie clenched her jaw, “Just drop it off. Okay?”
“Sure. I’ll be over around three.”
She hung up abruptly and Tom was left upset from not being able to talk to Summer. He hated how he didn’t have any sense of control, to think that this could be the way things are until she goes off to college. Out of anger, Tom threw his phone across the room that made a loud thud against the wall. His blood boiled and tears filled his eyes, bringing the sweater back to his face and trying to let the lingering scent keep him calm.
You stood in the hall across from the door and it was close enough to hear the whole conversation. Every word made your heart drop, not knowing what you could do for him. You hated eavesdropping, but it was getting harder to get the truth from Tom as the days went by. He was falling apart and it was getting too painful to slowly watch.
“Tom?” You softly asked, knocking on the door.
He left the sweater on the bed, wiping his eyes with the end of his t-shirt before grabbing his phone off the floor. To his relief, the already cracked screen didn’t have any new damage. Tom wiped the screen against his pants before opening the door to meet your gaze.
“Sorry about that. I just got frustrated.” He avoided looking in your eyes.
“It’s okay.” You tell him, not needing any assurance. All you did was wrap your arms around him and tell him that it would all be okay, even if you didn’t really know if it would be.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
The half-hour drive to Maggie’s apartment felt like hours to Tom, his head filled with what he was going to say to her or how he was going to handle whatever she told him. He bit on his nails on his left hand while the other gripped the top of the steering wheel tight. Right when he thought of the things he could say, his anxiety made him forget all of the rational thoughts.
As he parked in a parallel spot, Tom got out of the car with the sweater in one hand with a duffle in the other. He carefully crossed the street and entered the complex, walking up the stairs to the fourth level. When he entered through the exit door, he saw the floors were polished and the lighting was bright since there were no windows. It all came off as luxurious and bare, nothing but one or two paintings on the wall.
He knocked a few times under the plastic golden numbers, his eyes searching around until he heard the locks click. The door flew open and Maggie popped her head out, her makeup a few shades darker than last time.
“Hey,” Tom mumbled.
“Hey… you brought it?” She asked quickly, opening the door more.
Tom couldn’t help looking past her, seeing if Summer was in there.
“Yeah. Here.” Tom huffed, handing her the sweater, “And I brought some other stuff she might want.” He gave her the duffle too, weighing down in her hand when he passed it.
“Jesus, what’s in this? She’s not going off to college.”
“A few books, shirts, socks, a few Mad Libs.” He said what was off the top of his head, shoving his hands in his front pockets.
“Well thanks, it should keep her busy.” Maggie quickly grinned, but before she could shut the door, Tom took a step forward.
“Can I see her? Just for a few minutes before I go to work.” Tom asked, even though he didn’t feel the need to.
She sighed, “I really have to go, Tom.”
Before Tom could say another word, Summer shouted from behind Maggie, “Daddy!”
Summer pushed past Maggie, holding out her arms and Tom immediately wrapped his around her. He spun her around with her feet off the ground. He could cry as he held her tighter, kissing the top of her hair and she giggled, “I missed you!”
He put her back on her feet, “I missed you too, kid. How’s the cast?” Tom smiled.
She lifted it up, “Good, I got more names on it.”
“Oh, yeah? Aren’t you miss popular.” Tom chuckled, watching her rotate the cast.
“Are we going home?” Summer quickly asked.
Tom sealed his lips, “Ah, not… yet.”
Summer’s face shifted, “But, I wanna go home.”
“Not yet, baby.” Tom knew it wasn’t in his control right now.
“But, I wanna go home now…” She protested, a dimple between her furrowed eyebrows.
It was the first time he heard true sorrow in her light voice. A kid always had their emotional fits, but Tom taught her that it was okay to talk to her and didn’t have to hold anything back. There was never a moment of questioning her temper tantrums or how she behaved, but he couldn’t wrap his head around this whole incident. He didn’t know how to answer her questions and help her and it was killing him to feel like he was doing nothing yet also trying to do everything he could.
“Summer, I promise you’ll be home soon, okay?” He promised, running his hand over her soft hair.
“Okay.” She pouted.
Quickly turning away, Summer fled back into the apartment and didn’t give Tom another look. He chewed the inside of his cheek and Maggie put her hand on your hip, not knowing what else to say.
“Well, thanks.” She huffed.
“When can I see her again?” Tom asked, embarrassed from how desperate he came off.
She nodded, “I don’t know...”
Tom clenched his jaw, “I raised her, I don’t understand how you can come back and just take her away like you suddenly want to be a great mother. Do you want something else from me other than child support? Huh? What is it, Maggie?” He asked, frustrated and tired of biting his tongue.
Maggie looked over her shoulder at Summer, meeting her blatant glare, so Maggie stepped into the hall to have some privacy. Tom took a few steps away from her, putting his back against the wall while she stood on her side.
“I don’t want to argue with you, Tom. I really don’t-”
“Then why are you doing this?” He cut her off.
She nodded, “I’m uncomfortable with it all.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re not Summer’s dad!” Maggie stated, “Okay? Do you know how confusing that is gonna be to her? That the guy who has raised her for six years isn’t even her dad!”
Tom was in disbelief, his throat dry and thinking as if he got the wind out of him.
“I want to take a DNA test.”
Maggie couldn’t help but chuckle, “You’re not her dad.”
“I don’t care, I’m taking a test. If I’m the father, she gets to stay with me.”
“Well, she’s not so, good luck with that plan.” She boldly told Tom, watching him walk away from the conversation.
Adrenaline fueled him, leaving the building with the last dignity he felt like he had. The doubt rapidly sunk in from Maggie’s words and for the first time, Tom started to believe that she was right. He may have wasted six years of his life, not knowing how he could have fallen for it all.
After slamming the car door, Tom huffed and wiped his hands down his face. He was annoyed at the stress he held back, thinking he had his emotions under control when everything was falling apart. A million voices spoke throughout his conscience all at once and tried to guide him, too overwhelming to maintain his cool he had kept for so long. Tom clenched his fist and quickly jabbed the steering wheel, pain coursing from his blistered knuckles.
The night shift was a wreck and Tom couldn’t gain his confidence back. He messed up drink orders that infuriated his tipsy customers, dropped a glass from how shaky his hands were, and overall couldn’t clear his mind from his argument earlier with Maggie. Nevertheless, Tom pushed through the sloppy job he did but had to flee to the back to get some air from the inebriated crowd.
With a bottle of beer in one hand, he slipped away when one of his co-workers came in. Tom exited to the back alley, the cold breeze hitting his face and the wind slapping his back when the door closed behind him. As he brought the bottle to his lips, Tom took breaths through his nose as he downed the bitter ale. His eyes burned from the icy carbonation, pulling it away after drinking most of it. He tossed the glass bottle into the dumpster across from him, running his hands through his hair as he paced around the dead end.
“Shit!” He growled, his voice echoing.
A few tears trailed down his cheek and he quickly wiped them with the back of his hand. Tom got himself together, but before he went back inside to end his shift, his phone vibrated in his front pocket. He was relieved to see your name headlining a picture of the two of you.
“Hey, babe.” Tom sniffled.
You were taken back by the pet name, “Babe?”
He smiled, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. I’m tired.” He pinched his nose bridge.
“No, no, I wasn’t sure if we were using “babe” or any other grossly cute nicknames.” You jeered, your sweet giggle comforting him.
“It’s just been a weird day.” He pressed his back against the brick wall.
“Things didn’t go well with Maggie?” You sighed, laying down on the couch.
Tom nodded, “Not exactly. But, I’m trying to figure it out.”
Your lips went to the side, not surprised Tom said it because he always liked to tackle everything by himself. There was no need to meddle, but you knew he would come around when he wanted to.
“Hey, I know it’s hard now, but… You’re gonna get her back.” You started, hoping it sounded comforting.
Tom remembered when you said he’d never lose her. He already doubted himself, but he didn’t want to have a lack of uncertainty with you, a person he trusted more than anyone.
“Tom?” You asked, only hearing the noises of passing cars in the background.
“Yeah, babe, I’m here.” Tom shook his head, running his hand down his face.
His voice cracked from the brokenness, causing your heart to flutter. You wanted to fix this all, and you would if you could, but it was equally as frustrating for you to keep your calm. You knew that if you exploded with rage and anger, Tom would follow the same path of destruction and it’s the last thing you both needed to do.
“Okay… are you coming back soon?”
“Yeah, I’m almost off my shift. I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”
“Drive safe, please.” You tilted your head, pulling your legs to your chest.
“Always.” He smiled before hanging up.
Tom went back inside to finish his shift, hoping to get a few tips from his charm. He snuck a few shots of Crown and gin in between his orders, looking around to make sure none of his co-workers saw. It was out of his character to drink on the job knowing it could get him fired on the spot, but Tom didn’t care. He wanted the pain inside to numb away with warm liquor until he was sick.
Making the poor decision of driving home, Tom took his time to get back. He rubbed his eyes a few times from the haze fogging his vision, but he slowly pulled into his usual parking spot. At first, he forgot to put on the parking gear, the car rolling forward before he stepped on the brake. A drunk chuckle left his lips as he parked, pulling the keys out and he leaned on the car to maintain his balance.
You fell asleep on the couch waiting for him only to flinch from the door slamming. As you put your weight on your arms, Tom walked in with a sway to his walk.
“Hey, I was starting to worry.” You groaned, stretching as you stood up from the couch.
“Sorry, I was… trying to get home and there was… it was fine.” He slurred, a faint smile on his face.
You furrowed your eyebrows, walking up to him and instantly smelling the alcohol on his breath.
“You drove home drunk?”
“I’m here in one piece, aren’t I?” He breezed past you, kicking his shoes off by the kitchen island then heading to the bedroom.
“You could have gotten killed.” You hissed.
You crossed your arms as you followed him, standing in the door frame. Tom struggled to unbutton his shirt, not able to grip them with his hazy vision. 
“I’m here, okay? I’m fine and I just need to sleep.” Tom groaned, the alcohol fueling his irritation.
You didn’t want to pick a fight, not this late and not with everything else going on, so you digressed and decided to leave it till the morning.
As he lazily pulled apart his button-up, he threw it to the side and left him in his basic white tee. You walked around to the shared bathroom and cupped some lukewarm water in your hands to splash on your face. You could hear Tom unbuckle his pants and he threw them to the floor, missing the hamper by a long shot.
You walked to your side of the bed, glancing at him laying down with his bloodshot eyes still open.
“Tom, you can’t do this.”
“I know. I know, but this… I fucking can’t think about anything else.” He admitted.
You sat up on the bed with your head against your pillow, pulling the duvet over your legs. You ran your hand over his messy, brown curls, weaving your fingers through it and pushing it back. His eyes met yours as you continued to play with his hair.
“From how long we’ve been friends, I know you have always put the weight of the world on your shoulders.” You spoke calmly, your tone soft and sweet like honey, “But, you can’t keep doing this to yourself...”
He gulped, not knowing how to let go of this anger he internalized.
“Then what am I supposed to do?” His voice was broken.
“You need to take your time, baby.” You whispered, running your hand through his hair again.
Tom gently held your hand that was resting on your stomach, brought it to his face, and kissed the top of it a few times. You grinned, watching him bring your intertwined hands to his chest. He kept his eye contact with you, his free hand tucking your hair behind your ear.
“I don’t know how I’d stay sane without you.” He revealed, his eyes glossy.
You half-smiled, “You’d function, just not as properly.” You jeered, trying to make him laugh.
“Oh, always with the jokes.” Tom chuckled, tickling up your side and you began to kick around, letting out infectious belly laughs.
“I can’t help it! You’re fun to mess with.” You beamed.
You shifted down to be face to face with him, lying next to him and forgetting about the world for a few minutes. Tom was never big on affection with who we dated, struggling to open himself up with people he felt were temporary. Little did you know that he was wrapped around your finger since the day you fell off the jungle gym.
“I just want you to be happy.” You sighed.
He nodded, “I am happy. I promise.”
You brushed your nose against his, your head angled from the side. Tom’s light buzz lingered, wrapping his arms around your shoulders to pull you closer to him under the warm, cotton sheets. Your head rested on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and running your hand down his abdomen. As you brought his hand toward you, but you furrowed your eyebrows at the light red and purple bruising across his knuckles.
“What’s this from?” You asked, grazing your finger over his skin.
Tom raised his eyebrows, “Uh, I don’t know.” He lied.
You pouted, “You should ice it tomorrow. It looks kind of bad.”
“Yeah…” Tom trailed, biting the inside of his cheek.
You pressed light kisses against the bruises, “Gotta be more careful, babe.”
His brown eyes brightened, a small smile on his lips before he scattered some kisses against your temple, your cheek pressing against his shoulder.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
When you two went to the clinic to get the DNA test, Tom couldn’t sit still the whole time. From the waiting room until he sat on top of the doctor’s table, he pulled at his fingers or tapped his leg which made you place your hands on him to get him to stop. You gave him words of encouragement, trying to support him through the lengthy process, especially when he saw the needle thread into his dark blue veins.
“I thought it was just gonna be a cheek swab.” He chuckled, discomfort in his chuckle.
“Some places do that, but a blood test is more accurate.” The nurse tried to calm him, her tone soft.
“How accurate?” He hissed at the sudden pinch.
Her lips went to the side, “Above ninety percent.”
His head was turned to the cabinets, fixating on the bold font of one of the flyers. You sat in the black, plastic chair next to the counter, your legs crossed and peering up at Tom. His face scrunched together for a split second, visibly seeing that he still hated needles after all these years.
“What?” He asked.
You nodded, “Nothing. You’re just making a cute face.” You jeered, placing your hand on your cheek with your elbow on the arm of the chair.
“Just reminds me of high school blood drives… Nurse Jenna always poking my vein a thousand times.” He huffed.
“It’s because you squirmed so much, like you are now.” You teased.
He rolled his eyes with a faint smile, looking down at his feet before the nurse pulled the needle away and covered it with a ball of cotton. Tom held it there for a few seconds until she slowly wrapped the light blue bandage the perfect tightness around his arm.
“You should get the results back in four to five days. We’ll let you know right away, Mr. Holland.”
“Thank you so much.” Tom grinned at her.
After the nurse walked out with the blood sample and her file, you stood up, slinging your purse strap on your shoulder. Tom stepped down from the table, pulling down his flannel sleeve to cover the bandage.
“You were so brave. Are you upset she didn’t give you a lollipop?” You joked.
“Don’t worry too much, but I think I’ll live.” He jeered back, leaning in to kiss your forehead.
You wrapped your arm around his back, giving him a light hug before you two left to check out then headed back to his apartment. On the ride home, Tom was fairly quiet with the low music from the speakers filling the car. There wasn’t anything you needed to say, but being there for each other was enough comfort. With the windows rolled down halfway, the fresh air weaved through your hair and your fingers were loosely wrapped around the top of the steering wheel.
Tom looked out the window, watching the scenes you passed by, but his head was in a different place. His elbow rested against the armrest of the door, unconsciously biting his nail and shaking his leg. You cautiously put your hand on top of his, the one settled on his leg, intertwining your fingers together without looking at him.
It was still hard getting used to the quietness, not only from you but within Tom’s life.
Tom missed Summer being at the apartment, looking forward to putting up the crayon drawings she worked on at breakfast or insisting they go to the park on weekends. But, since she hadn’t been around, it gave more time for you and Tom to be alone, at least back to how you were six years ago. For the most part, it was nice to dance in the middle of the living room, spinning each other around and sharing takeout at the coffee table while watching a tooth-rotting, romance movie. Just making it more obvious that Summer changed his life, even in the smallest things she did.
The growth of your relationship was important, but most of it was centered around Summer. It didn’t mean you couldn’t both carry a conversation without her, just that most of the things you did together were for her. Endless trips to the park, going to the zoo, taking her to girl scouts, or even running around the house playing hide and seek if it was a rainy day. Her giggles filled the apartment, endless amounts of laughter from the three of you and the memories you created. It was the one thing that motivated Tom to fight for her, just to make more and more memories and have her back in his arms for good. 
As the grueling days passed, it was closer to Halloween night and Tom was trying to get as many shifts as he could. Not only was it one of their busiest times, but he also got generous tips. Because the holiday was during a school day, Tom’s apartment held an event for some kids to come by and trick-or-treat early.
It would be Tom’s first holiday without Summer there, but the results would come any time now. It’s all that consumed his mind, on top of him working on her Halloween costume without her. She insisted she wanted to be Wonder Woman and you and Tom never used store-bought costumes, not even when she was a baby and you made a pumpkin costume out of orange felts and stitching.
“Hey! You’re gonna be late for work.” You said, running your hands through Tom’s curls when you passed by him sitting at the table.
Tom snapped out of his trance, shaking his head and rubbing his tired eyes with the palms of his hands. Today marked the day Tom should have gotten his DNA test back, checking his phone and email since he woke up before dawn.
“Are you staying late? I know Halloween week is probably like the jackpot for you guys.” You grinned, grabbing a mixed bag of candy from on top of the fridge and a bowl from the cabinet.
“Yeah, if you thought the tips from single moms paid up, wait until you get an open tab from a fratboy.” Tom chuckled as he got up, stretching his back and he brushed down his wrinkled, navy button-down.
“Well, I’m sure they’re just flirting with you too. You’re so damn charming with those brown eyes and smile.” You winked at him, shifting the big bowl of sweets with both your hands.
He walked behind you, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, “Hmm, well there’s enough of me to go around.” Tom jeered.
Tom checked his phone once again, scrolling through his email and call history, seeing him looking down at it from the corner of your eye.
“Hey, babe, you need to get going.” You reminded him, placing the bowl of candy on the small table next to the door. You walked over to him, wrapping your arms around him from behind and planting a soft kiss on his cheek.
“Thank you, dear.” Tom faintly smiled, nudging his head against yours before you untangled from him.
He shoved his phone in his back pocket, grabbing his denim jacket off the back of the kitchen chair. Tom told you he’d call you on his way home and to have fun, but felt some relief from not being around the kids. He’d barely spoken to Maggie since their argument last week, only getting updates on Summer and her behavior. Tom never knew someone could find the one nerve that could be pinched in any instance, making him incredibly annoyed with whatever he was doing.
The bar was getting packed as Tom walked past the crowd in the front, everyone mingling at the high-rise tables in their various costumes. There was a discount if you wore a costume, usually helping business with more drinks for lower prices, but that meant the night would feel longer with an endless amount of orders piling on top of each other with little patience from a drunken mob.
Rolling his sleeves up to his elbows, Tom made sure their inventory was stocked as he breezed by his co-workers. He wasn’t close enough to them to tell anyone want he was dealing with, but he figured it was better not to talk about it so it never came up during a shift.
Multicolored lights flashed and beamed through the moving mass of people, but enough of the warm light above the bar helped guide Tom when he was scrambling to attend to whoever he could. It took his mind off his stress, too worried about not getting drinks right when it was easy to with how hectic it was. Drink after drink, he collected a bill and shoved it in the shared tip jar behind them, hoping they made enough so everyone could walk with sore feet, but be satisfied with their hard work.
As the night grew longer, it became rowdier and it meant that it was harder to get people out so new ones could come in. While Tom talked to one of his regulars down at one side, an argument between two strangers began to ensue toward the middle. Tom looked over his shoulder while leaning on the bar, glaring at the two boys whose voices howled over the music.
“I think you should get the fuck out of my face!” One yelled, he had dirty blonde hair and a scratch by his lip.
“Chill out, what the fuck!” The other retorted and his piercing blue eyes were bright enough for Tom to see from where he stood.
“Hey, give me one second.” Tom told the man he was talking to, quickly pacing over toward the angry exchange, “Hey, knock it off.” He said with an assertive, deep tone.
They ignored Tom, continuing to argue before one threw a punch deep into the other’s face. It knocked the man on the floor, making Tom jump over the bar to try to break up the fight. While he defended himself from the guy who punched first, the other drunken man pulled Tom down by the shoulders. In his inebriated fury, he jabbed Tom in the stomach, hurting his rib which made Tom hold on his hands there.
“Hey man, get off me!” Tom gritted his teeth, grabbing the guy’s wrist to push him back down to the floor.
Even though Tom was strong enough to do so, the other nameless man tried to help Tom, but Tom was soon met with a punch to the eye, near the nose bridge. The guy was twice as large as him, able to put his weight on Tom as he threw constant punches to his face and jaw. Tom’s eyes teared up, mixing with the blood from his nose before the guy was pulled off him.
Tom quickly got on his feet, holding on to the bar, but he was met with more arguing between the two strangers he never should have intervened between, to begin with. He rubbed the back of his head, hoping he didn’t have a concussion with the throbbing under his skin. Before Tom could recover from what happened, the guy approached him again, stumbling until Tom threw a punch back.
He didn’t know what came over him, but the stress of everything instantly came out with his rush of adrenaline. More people from the crowd tried to step in, even one of Tom’s co-workers, but it ended with two police officers settling both of them. Tom tasted the blood on his lips, spitting it on the dirty floor as his heads were pulled behind his back.
“Calm down!” The officer pleaded with Tom, taking him outside of the bar.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
The sounds of office phones ringing and the news playing lowly were all you could concentrate on. The police station was the last place you thought of being at a time like this, your heart racing since you picked up the phone and told what had happened with Tom. You bounced your leg, the other crossed on top of it and moving your ankle to find anything to make time go faster.
“Y/N L/N.”
You whipped your head, pushing off the chair to get up and speed walk to the front.
“Y-Yes, that’s me.” You said, putting your hands on top of the desk.
“He’s being released now.” The officer spoke with a monotone voice.
You nodded, stepping away from the desk before a short buzz echoed the hall. Tom slowly walked up, his hands behind his back before the officer escorting him released the handcuffs.
“Keep your head up, kid.” The tall officer told him before walking back to the cells.
Tom rubbed his reddened wrists, his face and body in pain from the beating he went through. When you saw his face, you almost couldn’t believe it was him. Red and purple bruises faded on his light skin near his right eye and trailing his sharp jaw. His nose bridge looked displaced and dry blood under his nose, the rest on the collar of his dark shirt. You almost couldn’t stare because of the bright redness surrounding his right eye from popping a vessel. 
“Babe…” You choked, gently holding his face.
“I’m okay. I promise.” Tom gulped, his hands settling on your hips, “Let’s just go home.” He croaked.
“Not before we go to the emergency room. Your eye looks awful.” You say, gently moving his head to take a better look at it.
He nodded, “I just wanna go home, please.”
“No, we can’t, you’re hurt--”
“Y/N, I wanna go home.” He snapped.
You clenched your jaw at his stubbornness, “Fine.”
Once you were back to the apartment, the first thing Tom wanted to do was take a shower. He sat on top of the toilet seat, unbuttoning his button-down, but winced at the soreness in his arms when trying to take his not-so-white, t-shirt off. As he continued to try to get his arms higher, Tom couldn’t push himself to do it. He leaned over in frustration, a grunt passing his lips before you walked into the door frame.
“Let me help you.” You softly said, taking a few steps toward him.
Tom didn’t have the energy to fight back so, he leaned back to sitting up straight and lifted his arms as high as he couldn’t which wasn’t much. You grabbed the ends of his t-shirt, peeling it off him and tossing it in the hamper behind you.
You kneeled in front of him, “You got it?”
“Yeah, thanks, baby.” He grunted, holding in his pain.
You nodded, placing your hands on his face and caressing your thumb over his cut cheek. A tear trailed from your waterline, hurt to see him in the state he was. He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, giving a light kiss. You ran your hand through the nape of his curls before getting back up and putting your hand on the doorknob.
“Just yell if you need me.”
He just nodded in response, wincing as he stood up and you closed the door.
You let out a deep sigh as you walked back to the kitchen, cleaning up the pots and pans you had forgotten to wash from yesterday. It was something to do while Tom was showering, not wanting to think that this wouldn’t have happened if Maggie didn’t come back into his life.
Tom’s phone buzzed on the counter, making you glance at it. The cracked screen lit up but there were a few bloody fingerprints covered on the glass. You picked it up and wet a rag, wiping off any of the dirt and blood from it but you saw an email that was sent to him a few hours ago. You didn’t want to put your nose into his business, but it could have been from the clinic.
Your thumb hesitantly pressed his code in, opening his email account, but you saw it was just a letter from a subscription. Your lips went to the side, feeling bad for snooping until your read an email that he had opened earlier. The timestamp was during his shift, not knowing if he saw it before or after, but your heart fell when you read the document.
“Based on the DNA analysis, the alleged father is excluded as the biological father. This result is consistent with the statement that the alleged father (Thomas Holland) is not the biological father of the child.”
tags/taglist: @felicityparkers @dhtomholland @duskholland @strawberrytom @itstaskeen @tomhollandsgirlfriend @bi-writes @infinite-imagination​ @honeyspidey​ @hollandcrush​ @sunsetholland​ @pparkersbitch​ @namoreno​ @calltothewild​ @spideyspeaches​ @veryholland​ @osterfieldshollandgirl​ @slutforsebstan​ @bi-lmg​ @sunshinepeterparkr​ @annathesillyfriend​ @madmadmilk​ @antigoneidk​ @hollandcreep​ @wierdflowerpower​  
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mydiazboys · 2 years
Text
NOVEMBER [TUWYAN]
“So, do you plan on getting threatened with a gun often or is that just going to be special occasions?”
Buck spluttered as they found the blonde female in the living area, a cup of ginger tea on the coffee table in front of her. The TV was on the news channel, and it took him a moment to realise she had been watching the call they were just on.
“Ladybug-”
“Cause if it’s often, I’m gonna rethink letting you be my baby’s uncle,” she said, and Hen and Chim were laughing out as they passed, sympathetically rubbing Buck’s shoulder.
“Aw, c’mon. I saved your baby daddy from being the one to go down,” he pointed out, gesturing to the ex-medic who was passing them.
“Yeah, I’m not helping you with this battle, Buck.”
Leah was now at the point of her pregnancy where she was beginning to have sudden, dramatic mood swings. And a lot of them, as the team had found out, were directed at Buck. They were grateful for the free entertainment. But sometimes they were reminded that Buck just didn’t know how to speak to pregnant women.
“Oh, you’re a part of this battle too, Eddie. Why weren’t you the one who went down? You’ve dealt with guns before.”
“Leah,” he sighed, setting his hands on his hips. Eddie also wasn’t the best at dealing with pregnancy, seeing as he had missed out on most of Shannon’s because he had enlisted. “You know how we work, we rock-paper-scissors and whoever wins gets to go down. And, we didn’t even know she was armed.”
Leah was sitting up, slowly, and lifting up her cup of tea. “Choose your next words wisely, Diaz.”
“Leah, is chicken a good smell or a bad smell for you?” Bobby asked, as he entered the kitchen. He was flicking through ingredients to work out what to cook up for the team lunch. Lunch instead of dinner, as Bobby had plans that night with Athena’s family.
“Is it the Chinese chicken you make?” She asked, her attention now on the Captain, easily distracted by food.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking of making,” he said, turning to look at her, brow raised.
“That’s a good smell. The curry chicken is the bad one.”
“Which makes no sense, because that’s your favourite,” Buck snorted as he sat down at the island.
“Blame Baby Sterling-Diaz,” she shrugged her shoulders, rubbing her stomach. She didn’t have a bump yet. There was a slight curve to her stomach, but she was definitely blaming that on the constipation. “They do really enjoy Bobby’s cooking though, which is a given.”
“When’s your next scan? When do we get to find out if it’s a boy or a girl?” Buck asked, as he was eating some grapes.
“Next week is the next scan,” Eddie informed him, as he was making himself a cup of coffee. An apologetic look being sent in the direction of Leah, who had grabbed her snack of peanut butter and apple. “The gender-reveal scan is at 20 weeks, but Leah doesn’t want to find out.”
“Are you guys both off for it?” Bobby asked, referring to the next booked scan.
“Yeah, it’s Wednesday. We’re coming in afterwards,” she reminded him, looking down at the recipe he was looking at. “Oh, that sounds good,” she pointed at a few of the ingredients. “Eddie’s taking Chris to school, then picking me up.”
“You guys are so domesticated, it’s hilarious,” Chimney snorted, shaking his head. “Buck’s been whining that he can’t go out anymore, because he’s lost his wingwoman.”
“I told him I’ll go out with him,” Leah pointed out, before she ate a bite of her peanut butter smothered apple.
“But we aren’t going to do that, are we, Ladybug? Because one of us is pregnant and will whine that they can’t drink.” The smile on Buck’s face was sickly sweet, and it was clear the duo had had this conversation more than twice.
“Remind me, why did you get knocked up?” Was the teasing reply from the female, and Buck was pulling her into a headlock.
“Hey! Careful with the mother of my kid,” Eddie said, pointing at the pair with his brows raised.
And that was the first time any of them had really heard him be protective over the unborn baby and it’s mother. He usually just sat back, watched them from a distance. Stewing in his own thoughts, as Chim had teased him many times about.
v^√√v^──√v^√v^──√v^√√v^──
“Thanks for picking me up,” Leah said as they walked into the medical centre, approaching the front desk.
“Anytime,” he replied, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.
“Buck doesn’t think it is safe for me to ride my bike now that I’m all knocked up, but it does mean I get free lifts around the city.” She grinned brightly at him, before she was giving her details over to the receptionist and then heading to the waiting room.
“I feel better knowing that you aren’t riding your bike,” he admitted, as he sat down next to her, rubbing his thighs.
“This is weird, right?” She looked over at him. “I’m pregnant with your kid, my best friend is crashing at my place. You’re fucking your wife, who just re-entered your life-”
“Wait, you know about that?” Eddie’s brow was furrowed together as he looked over at her. “Did Buck tell you? He promised-”
“I was in the locker room when you told him,” she explained, pulling a face. Before shrugging her shoulders as she took her phone out, scrolling through her instagram feed.
“Leah, I didn’t know how to tell you,” he started, but she was shaking her head.
“You don’t have to tell me anything. We aren’t together, we just had a one-night stand.” She reminded him, patting him on the knee gently. “But, you might have to tell her because, I don’t think I’ll be able to hide away this kid forever. Might come out looking like a little Eddie clone,” she teased him, laughing. He snorted, nudging her side.
“Leah Sterling?” A nurse called out, and then they were getting up and following her to the room.
Eddie made a few little teasing remarks, as the blonde was sitting down on the seat and laying back, lifting up her shirt. This was Eddie’s first scan he would be attending, and his first time seeing their baby when it wasn’t through a picture. He was nervous, of course. He had missed out on this with Shannon, with her pregnancy. Leah had warned him that she would be having more frequent ultrasounds compared to a ‘normal’ pregnancy, due to her family history.
“Alright, mom and dad?” The doctor said, as she entered the room, smiling at the pair. “I didn’t meet you last time, Mr…?”
“Diaz, uh, Eddie,” he nodded his head, shaking the hand of the woman.
“Alright, well, it’s a simple procedure. Same as last time, Leah, alright? Cold, cold gel and then we can take a look at your baby’s health and development.”
“Sounds great to me, Doc,” Leah grinned, leaning back. Her fingers subconsciously reached out, gripping his fingers tightly as they watched the gel being applied and then the wand rub across her lower stomach. Their eyes moved to the screen, as their baby appeared.
“Oh, wow,” Eddie breathed out, his fingers squeezing hers gently. And, as promised, he was already getting teary. Because for Eddie, who wasn’t experiencing all the symptoms and was mostly watching from afar, this was making it all real for him.
“Your little one is looking healthy, I’m really happy with their development. Looking exactly how we expect them to look at this stage.” The doctor was explaining to them. “I know, Leah, that your career is very heavy and hard work-”
“She’s not going out on calls,” Eddie cut in, his eyes not leaving the screen.
“I go out on the medical calls,” she reminded him, smirking because she knew he still wasn’t happy about that.
“Against better judgement,” he looked down at her, and his words weren’t malicious at all. He had the softest look on his face, mixed with the watery eyes.
“I’m staying safe, Doc. No worries there,” she promised, squeezing his hand gently.
“You two work together?” The doctor asked, smiling as she adjusted the wand against her stomach.
“Yeah, he’s our new probie,” Leah said, looking up at him. “Not that I knew that when this happened,” she snorted, and he shook his head.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“This is very clearly your ‘Welcome to the Team’ present, Eds.”
He snorted, shaking his head as he looked down at her. If he was honest, there were way worse people he could be experiencing this with. In this exact scenario. He personally thought that Leah was definitely the best possible scenario.
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loving-all-for-loki · 3 years
Text
You Belong Pt. 2
Loki x reader
Word count: 2098
Warnings: swearing, SMUT, unprotected sex (YOU KNOW BETTER)
A/N: I don’t know how many of you actually wanted a sequel, but one person did so I’m making it. I think some of you are realizing what kind of an author I am. I’ll pretty much do anything. This is my first time writing smut so please go easy on me 🥺 Go read part 1 if you haven’t already!
It’s been two days since you went on a date with Loki. He took you out to a nice dinner then a walk before taking you back to your apartment. It was a really nice night and had Loki come in with you, you think it would be even better, but alas he didn’t. He was a gentleman and left as soon as you got in. Sitting at your desk like usual, Loki walks in with a cup of coffee and sets it down by you with a smile.
“Good morning, darling.”
“Hi, Loki.”
Your coworkers gather in a corner and start whispering about you again, knowing they probably heard about your date with the god.
“I really enjoyed our date the other day and was wondering if you wanted to do it again sometime?”
“Yeah,, I uh… I would love that.”
Loki’s smile is so wide, it goes all across his face.
“Wonderful. I’m glad you enjoyed it. I wanted to apologize again about Rogers.”
“Loki, it isn’t your fault. He was right in a way-”
“No, remember what we talked about? You belong.”
“I’m not a hero. I’m just a receptionist.”
Loki rolls his eyes and sighs.
“You’re impossible. I have to go, but I’ll stop by later.”
He makes his way towards the elevator and to the Avenger’s floors. The whole team is sitting around the living are and laughing, having a good time. Loki walks up to them and grabs Steve by the collar and drags him down the hall. The team gets up to him but Loki quickly disappears.
“We need to talk about Y/N.” Loki says, throwing Steve on the floor of the training room.
“What about it? I already said what-”
“Exactly, you have said what you needed to and it’s stupid. If you ever yell or make her cry every again, I swear to the nine realms, I will end you.”
Steve stands there stunned as Loki disappears again, right in front of you. He scares you so bad that you fall out of your seat on the floor in which he helps you to get up from.
“Loki, what the-”
“So sorry, darling,” he laughs, “I talked to Steve and he won’t give you trouble, now for that second date.”
“It’s been five minutes how did you-”
“Doesn’t matter. Tonight at six? I’ll pick you up from your place this time?”
“I- uh yeah, I mean I guess.”
“Perfect.”
And once again, time passes so quick you don’t even notice until the knocking on the door wakes you up. You check the clock and notice the time, realizing it’s Loki, and cursing yourself under your breath. Loki knocks on your door again and the sound starts to give you anxiety. You gather yourself and answer the door to see Loki in a full black suit and slicked hair. He hides a boquet of flowers behind himself as he takes you in… dressed in sweats. “I fell asleep. I’m so sorry.”
Loki laughs and steps inside the apartment.
“It’s okay, darling. We can stay in if you want.”
“Are you sure because based on your appearance, it looks like you had something planned.”
“Darling, any time spent with you makes me happy. Do not fret. I did get these for you on the way here.”
He hands you the bouquet of white lilies.
“I love them, thank you.”
“They reminded me of you. Cute, small, pretty.”
You can feel the heat in your cheeks and you’re aware that he can probably see your blush.
“What do you want to eat? I can cook something.”
“No please don’t. Let me order something at least, to make up for the dinner.” He gives you a kind smile before the two of you relax on the couch together and order food. You settle on watching some movies together as you down a whole lot of Chinese food.
“This is amazing,” Loki chuckles, “This is still from Midgard?”
“Yes, it is,” you laugh, “It’s from China, it’s a different country.”
“Like New York?”
“No, no. New York is a state inside of America, which is a country.”
“I understand. Well, they make great food.”
“You and a million midgardians agree.”
He smiles and sets his food down, putting his arm around your waist on the couch. You snuggle into him, leaning your head into the crook of his neck. It’s hard to focus on the movie when Loki is so close to you and smells so good. You can feel your hands getting sweaty and your body getting hot. Loki’s eyes don’t even leave the T.V, oblivious to how he’s affecting you.
“Are you okay?” He looks down at you to see you squirming a little, trying to get more comfortable.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say out of breath.
He gives you a side eye with furrowed eyebrows, not believing you, but returning his attention to the TV. You can feel your heart racing and pounding inside of you, not allowing you to relax. Loki’s fingers play with the hem of your sweatpants which doesn’t help the butterflied in your stomach. You didn’t feel like this last night when you had dinner, thinking that the table being between you two helped with keeping the feeling at bay. With him this close to you now, you can’t calm down.
“Seriously, darling. You look flushed.”
Loki has adjusted himself to look at you a little better. There’s concern on his face.
“I’m just a bit warm.”
“Oh? We can turn the AC up for you.”
“No, it’s fine, really.”
You’re too nervous to say anything about your butterflies. Loki keeps staring at you which makes you even more uncomfortable. As you turn to look at him again, you see a small smirk on his face.
“Yes?” You ask.
“I don’t know why, but seeing you this flustered is cute.”
Loki lifts your chin and locks lips with you. His lips are so soft and tender as he kisses you. You’re stunned at first but you slowly lean into the kiss, setting your hand on his chest as he places his on your jaw, holding your head close to him. It must be five minutes before you stop, taking a moment to take a breath. You two look in each other's eyes before Loki grabs your waist and pulls you into his lap.
His hands wander as you begin to make out again. You run your hands through his hair and he holds you tight, moving your waist to rub against his crotch. His grip on your ass sends shivers down your spine, making you squirm on Loki more. Loki pulls back to moan before picking you up.
Loki lays you down on the couch and hovers over you, still kissing you deeply. He keeps one hand by your head as his other wanders your body. Your body leans into his hand as he squeezes your breast. His touch is magnetic, you don’t want it to leave you. Then he wanders lower, his touch barely laying on your clit. You whine, wanting him to touch you but he looks at you with a devilish smirk.
“Use your words, baby girl. What do you want?”
“T-touch me, Loki.”
“Good enough for now, but so you know, it’s my King now.”
“Yes, my King.”
Loki rubs your clit through your pants and watches as your face curls. He looks at you in pride, loving the way he can make you melt. Kissing the side of your neck, he leaves hickeys all the way down before putting his hand down your pants, covering your bare folds. You whimper, making Loki chuckle.
“My sweet girl. So needy. Loki starts to take off his suit, removing his hand from you and making you whine. You try to take off your shirt as he does but have trouble, so Loki assists you. He admires your body as he removes the piece of fabric, his mouth watering every second.
“Such a beautiful creature.”
Loki latches his mouth on your nipple, lightly biting and sucking as he works on your pants. You let out a moan as he bites you, the feeling being unremarkable. Then a sudden tingle sparks on your mound. It’s warm and soft on you, massaging your clit slowly. You look at Loki to see him smirking, realizing it’s his magic.
He lets go off your breast and yanks your sweatpants down to your ankles, leaving his head shadowing over your folds. He licks a stripe over you, making you drop your head back in pleasure, moaning as he keeps going. You grab his raven locks as he clings onto your clit sucking and nibbling. He smiles against you at the sound of you moaning his name over and over again.
Loki adds a finger into you without stopping his magic. You get overwhelmed and start sweating from the pressure building inside of you. He goes faster without giving you any kind of break, urging you into an orgasm. The feeling in your stomach tightens until you hit your limit, letting go and cuming on his mouth.
“Such a dirty girl,” he coos, moving back over you, “You act all shy, but really you’re just a little whore.”
“Im.. your whore, my King.”
“Mhmm, I like the sound of that.”
Loki dips his head to kiss you again, nipping on your bottom lip, as he takes off his pants. You admire his body as he leans up. He’s so nicely toned, his abs on full display. The veins in his arms are popping out as he grips your hips, pulling you into him more. Your eyes wander down to his hands taking his large cock out of his underwear. His large member springs out, impressing you with the size. Loki chuckles at your face filled with worry.
“Don’t worry, darling. It won’t hurt.”
He leans down to kiss you again, holding your body to his as he guides his member into you. Going slowly, you feel yourself stretch around him as he moves. You gasp at the pressure filling you deeply. You sink your nails into his bare back, encouraging him to go faster.
Loki speeds up with thrusting into you. Every inch of him is heaven. Even the way he breathes and grunts into your ear sounds like angels singing. He whispers dirty comments are he thrusts hard, building more pressure inside of you.
“Come on, my dirty girl. You take my cock so well.”
You feel yourself get more wet with each word, dripping as he slides in and out of you. The coil in your stomach begins to be too much.
“You’re so close, baby. I want you to cum all over my godly cock.”
His words send you over the edge as you let go around him. You scratch down his back, leaving marks and small trails down his skin. He groans at the feeling, going faster. There’s no relief as you let go because you feel the tightness in your stomach return immediately. Loki doesn’t slow down but in fact flips you over and grabs your wrists, pining them together.
He slides in to you and pulls your wrists back. Loki pounds into you relentlessly, one hand holding you together and one pulling your waist back every time he slams back into you. You scream at the pressure and pain as he thrusts mercilessly and slaps your ass. Loki smiles at the sound and feels you losing your control over him, loving every sound out of your mouth.
“One more, little girl. Give me one more.”
You feel Loki’s thrusts becoming more sloppy, signaling his closeness. He becomes ruthless, exchanging his speed for roughness, going hard and slow. He reaches around your waist and rubs your clit, forcing you to drop on your stomach, your head smashed into the couch cushions. It becomes unbearable as you cum around him for the third time, your body covered in sweat and you out of breath. At the feeling of you clenching around him, Loki lets go and cums inside you, thrusting one last hard time. His grip on your waist leaves bruises.
Pulling out, Loki leans back to catch his breath, admiring you lying in a mess on the couch in front of him. You’re panting heavily with your eyes clenched shut. He smiles at his work. You turn around onto your back, looking up at the flushed god. He leans down to kiss you gently, smiling against your lips.
“I’m glad you slept in,” he chuckles.
146 notes · View notes
hockeywhhores · 3 years
Text
just friends?- m. tkachuk
Tumblr media
Matthew Tkachuk x f!Reader
summary~ Matthew is your best friend, but you both want to be more. 
warnings~ friends to lovers, swearing, alcohol consumption, fight, implied sex 
genre~ friends to lovers, fluff with some angst 
word count~ 3.3K 
masterlist
Growing up next in the house next to the Tkacuk’s meant there were never any dull moments. You have been playing with Matthew, Brady, and Taryn since you could talk. Matthew was the one who taught you how to ice skate, Brady taught you how to understand American football, and you ended up teaching Taryn how to put on makeup.
Matthew was even there when your first date had stood you up. When he came you were so embarrassed about being stood up and wanted to leave, but he made you stay and ‘fixed’ your date. Really he just bought you some dinner, and then you guys went back to his house and watched a movie with his siblings. At night when you started overthinking about why your date had stood you up; he held you in his arms, and let you cry on his shoulder. Matthew made sure you knew it wasn’t because you were ugly, which you insisted that it was, by telling you how beautiful you looked. You wrote him off, because that’s what your best friend is supposed to say.
When Matthew was drafted, he insisted that you applied to colleges in Calgary. Just to ease his mind you applied to all different colleges around Calgary, and even got in. Matthew offered to share his apartment, but you decided to live in the dorms. You both knew that wasn’t really going to happen, and were right. You spent more time in his apartment than in your dorm. Your toothbrush was in his bathroom and your shampoo and conditioner were in his shower. You slept in the guest room, and whenever his family came to Canada you slept in his bed, with him. His parents would take the guest room.
You were just friends. You were reminded of that when girls would flirt with him in bars, and he would let them. You always pushed away every jealous thought. Matthew wasn’t yours, so that makes whoever is flirting with him not your problem. The team had no problem making little chirps at the two of you being in love, but at least they only did so when you were alone. Some random guy ended up on the stool next to you. He ordered a beer and started watching one of the TVs. “Come here often?” He asked you, as he looked back towards you.
“Do you ask every girl that?” you questioned him with a small chuckle.
“Only the pretty one’s,” He smirked at you, “My name’s Asher.” he said, extending his hand.
“y/n” you smiled at him and shook his hand. As corny as his introduction was, you couldn’t help but think he was cute. His blue eyes stood out, they weren’t like Matthew’s ,light blue eyes, they are a deep blue. His ashy brunette hair looked super soft, and fell slightly across his forehead. Asher looked tired, but interested in you.
“Well what do you do, Miss. y/n?” he asked you, his voice sounding deep.
“I’m a college student by day, and a mysterious girl that hangs out in bars by night.” You say so casually, wanting to mess with him a little bit. Purposely not telling him you were here with the few Flames’ players that were around.
“Well I think you're doing great at being the mysterious girl that hangs out in bars very well.” Asher's voice was smooth like honey. “I’m an editor for CalgarySun.” you could listen to him talk for hours.
“Wow, and I caught your eye?” you playfully asked him.
“How could you not have?” He asked you sounding serious. “Do you want another drink?” he noticed your drink was getting low.
“If you don’t mind. I would love another drink.” you smiled. You felt like an idiot with all the smiling you were doing. Asher ended up buying you two more drinks before you got a text that Matthew ordered himself an Uber and you could share with him if you wanted to. Deciding to save the money, and take a ride with him. You said goodbye to your new friend, Asher. Numbers were exchanged and with that you left.
When you got outside you found Matthew walking the girl to her Uber, but he didn’t get in with her. The girl’s Uber left with her in it, and Matthew turned around to find you watching him. He gestures for you to come stand by him, and you did.
“Why didn’t you go with her?” You were the first one to speak.
“She obviously only liked me, because she recognized me. Fucking groupie was what she was.” You heard the frustration in his voice. It struck you as odd, about how he never took girls back to his apartment. You always told him you would go back to your dorms for the night, but he refused. Those moments made you feel bad for being there all the time.
A red car pulled up to the curb, and Matthew seemed to recognize it. You heard the driver ask if he was Matthew, and when he got a ‘yes’, he unlocked the doors. Matthew opened the door for you, and you slightly crawled inside the backseat. Thankfully you were wearing jeans, so you didn’t flash anyone. The ride back was just like any other. Matthew and you would talk about little things, and when it got quiet you listened to the radio that was lightly playing in the background. It only got quiet in between new topics. But like a blink of an eye the ride was over, and you were in front of his apartment.
Matthew opened the door for you, and you both went your separate ways. You went to the bathroom to take off your makeup and he went to his bedroom to change his clothes. After you were both done you switched, and he went to the bathroom while you changed. Walking into the room you now occupy in his apartment, the first thing you noticed was the mess you had made while getting ready for a night out. You signed and started straightening up before you gave up, and just put on your pajamas, which was an old shirt Matthew gave to you and some sweatpants. You heard the TV turn on and knew Matthew wasn’t going to be going to bed anytimes soon. You decided to join him.
Matthew was watching some Avengers movie, and you just signed and laid on the couch. He let you put your legs on top of his; letting you lay down on the couch. You phone vibrated on the coffee table. The light makes it hard to ignore. It went off again, so you just got up to answer it. You smiled when you noticed that Asher had texted you. Matthew tried to pay you no mind, and continued to watch the movie he picked out, but he couldn’t stop thinking about who would be texting you at midnight on a Saturday.
Matthew knew he should make his feelings known, but there was so much going against how could you two ever work out? He got labeled a borderline dirty player, a fuckboy, and was told he didn’t know how to manage his anger, and he was okay with it. He didn’t let it bother him. But if he ever lost you, because of his stupid feelings, he would never forgive himself. You were too precious to lose, and he could never risk it, so he hid his feelings.
After the movie was over Matthew looked over and saw that you had fallen asleep with your phone next to you. He gently moved your legs, trying his hardest to not wake you up. When he successfully got up, without disturbing you, he picked you up and carried you bridal style. He quietly tucked you into your bed, and went back to the living room to grab your phone. All he was going to do was plug it in for you, but couldn't help himself when he saw that some guy named Asher had been the one texting you. Matthew felt jealous boil up inside him, but he just plugged your phone in and left. You weren’t his, and oh how he wanted that to change.
Both of you didn’t wake up until late into the afternoon, and by that time lunch was more socially acceptable than breakfast. Matthew ordered some chinese take out, to help with both your hangovers. They weren’t bad, but Chinese take could cure anything. You came out looking a slight mess, but Matthew thought you gorgeous anyway. Your hair was all knotted, your clothes were wrinkled, and you had no makeup on. If Matthew was being honest he would pick this version of you over any supermodel that DMed him.
“Good mornin’.”your raspy, just-woke-up voice rang out across the apartment. You smiled at him, and looked confused when he did answer you. All he could think of was, who was ‘Asher’ and why was he texting you last night?
“Morning. I ordered some take out.” Matthew said back to you when he came to his sinuses.
“You are my savior!” you giggled out. Before things could get too awkward there was a knock on the door.
“That’s probably it right now.” he stated as he walked to the door. It was in fact the food, and you went to grab some silverware, and plates to help out. You also made both of you water bottles. You heard Matthew say a quick ‘thank you’ before the door closed, and he held up the big paper bag of food out as a way of showing you. You giggled and took the silverware, plates, and water bottles to the coffee table. Matthew followed behind you with the food.  
“When is your next game?” you questioned him. You needed to know what night you weren’t really going to be sleeping.
“Tomorrow, we get to stay home for the next four game, I think.” Matthew got out between taking bites of the noodles he put on his plate. “What do you want to watch?” he questioned you back.
“Umm...want to watch ‘The Good Doctor’?” you threw out between your bites of chicken.
“Sounds good to me.” he smiled at you. You knew liking your best friend was cliche, but if you pretended there wasn’t anything there; there was nothing there, right?
After eating and watching hulu, you decided it would be a good idea to get some of the homework you didn’t want to actually do, done. Matthew kepting talking to you while you sat at the really dining room table, that you never actually used, typing away on your laptop. Then he would go back and continue on doing whatever he was doing. While he was sitting on the couch in the living room, you got a great view of his face. You looked at him, you mean you really looked at him. Your heart started beating a little bit faster and your cheeks got hot. When he smiled at his show, you felt yourself wanting to smile. You never realized how domesticated this really was. You never realized how you could live with him, like this, forever. You just noticed how much you were going to miss his soft singing when he was in the shower, and his little mannerisms that made your heart beat faster. How he held every door he could open for you.
You thought back to when you were stood up. You thought about how he wouldn't let you go home. How he made you stay so he could give you a ‘proper date’. How he insisted that it wasn’t because you were ugly, and you were actually the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Did he just say that because that was what best friends said? Did he feel the same feelings towards the other, like you did?  No. There was no way he felt the same.
The lazy day ended and you both had to go back to your normal lives. Monday was upon you, and Matthew had a game, and you had class. You were dressed in black jeans, and a flames crewneck tha Matthew gave you to wear around Calgary so people knew you were on the right side of the ‘Battle of Alberta’. Matthew was gone before you had your coffee made. You saw the note he left stating that he was going to go do some laps, and hang out with the team. After your coffee was done you locked up his apartment, and left for class.
Class was boring, but you and Matthew texted so that made things better. Your plans for the night are to now attend his game, that was getting played against the Canucks. No complaints were going to be heard from you. You loved going to watch his games.
The night came quicker than expected, and you were rushing around his apartment trying to find your jersey, that of course had his last name on it, but it was nowhere to be seen. Looking at your watch you decided that if you didn’t leave now then you were never going to make it before puck drop. Last minute decision was made, and you just grabbed one of the many jerseys he had in his closet. The jersey was several sizes too big, but you didn’t mind.
Luck was on your side, because you were somehow able to make it to your seat in time before the game started. You only have to wait a minute before the lineup is being called. Matthew looked to where you always sat, with most of the wags, and smiled bigger when he saw you sitting there in his jersey. You smiled and gave him a slight wave. The game was brutal to say the least. Whenever the Flames were able to score, the Canucks scored right after them. Nevermind all the chirping going on between the two teams, especially Matthew and Jake Virtanen. They were going after each other, and no one was able to keep them apart long enough. You thought everything was going to blow over, but then the gloves were dropped. You stood up in shock, and you were also trying to get a better view. Whenever Matthew got in fights your blood ran cold, and your hands got sweaty.
The referees got everything sorted out, and they both got pentilites. The game stayed close, 3-3, and it was now going into overtime. You could tell how frustrated Matthew was. Overtime came and went, and then shootout time was up. After two misses, it was Matthew’s turn. Your hands got even more sweaty. Then in a blink-and-you’ll-miss it type of moment, Matthew scored for the Flames. You had to sit through the Canucks last shot, but thankfully Markstrom gloved it before it could go in. You could feel the energy that was put back into Saddledome.
As everyone leaves the stadium you stay in your seat, waiting for everything to clear out a little bit. When it looked clear enough you headed to the hallway where most of the wags were already there. You kept to yourself, and quietly waited for Matthew. When the team came out everyone was congratulating them. When Matthew saw you we went straight to you. You saw him a second before he was in front of you, and jumped forward engulfing Matthew in the biggest hug.
“Oh my god. You were amazing.” You smiled, so wide your cheeks hut, but he was smiling just as big. He was holding you from under your thighs, and you had your arms around his neck.
“I couldn’t have done it without you being here.” Matthew whispered in your ear. Neither of you want to let go, but you knew the guys wanted to go celebrate at some bar. So you pulled back, and you swear you saw Matthew frown, as he put you back on the ground.
Apparently the bar everyone wanted to go to was, where you went not even three days ago. Matthew bought you a shot, and you did one with him. Then he bought you one of your regular drinks. That was when you saw Asher sitting on one of the bar stools drinking a beer.
“We have got to stop meeting at this bar.” You stated when you were close enough he would be able to hear you.
“I am not going to disagree with you.” Asher tipped his beer at you and you slightly tripped your drink back at him. “Did you come in with the hockey team?” he questioned you sounding disgusted.
“Yeah. I did. Is that a problem?” you softly asked him
“I bet you’re just some groupie, who likes men that have money and a title.” He accused you. His words were slurred, and you knew he was drunk.
“What did you just say to her?” Matthew angrily spit out. ‘Oh shit’ was the only thing going through your head.
“Oh you both heard me. I saw her get into an Uber with your Saturday night. Right after she was done flirting with me and using me for drinks.” Asher spit out just as angrily but way more intoxicated.
“Both of you stop it!” you yelled out, “Well fuck. Matthew meet Asher, Asher meet Matthew, my friend.” you tried to get everything to settle down, but after you called Matthew your friend, you saw him get even more angry, if that was even possible.
“I don’t care what your relationship is to him. Why the hell did you leave flirting with a guy to get in some other guy’s Uber.” Asher was trying to dominate over you by standing tall and looking down at you. You hated this. You wish you and Matthew just went home instead of go to this stupid bar.
“Back the fuck up, Buddy.” Matthew spits out, “y/n come on. We are going home.” Matthew grabbed your arm and dragged you to his car. It wasn’t really a drag as you were willingly leaving with him, he was just holding your arm.
The car ride was completely silent, the radio not even playing, and no one wanted to speak. When you got back to his apartment was when all hell broke loose.
“So that was Asher? What an outstanding guy.” Matthew was enraged and couldn’t help with throwing out that comment.
“How the hell did you know about Asher?” you asked confused.
“I saw your phone, when I plugged it in for you, and made sure you were tucked into bed. Like a friend would do.” Matthew wrinkled his nose at you.
“Why do you care about the guys I’m texting! You can literally get any girl you want!” you protested.
“I care because I love you! Have you ever seen me take any of those girls back here? No, that's because I was trying to show you I’m not some asshole. I love you dammit.” Matthew professed everything in that one response. Everything was said, and neither of you could take it back. The pause that followed put both of you on edge.
“I love you too.” you whispered out. “I only want to be next to you, and when I’m in class I can’t wait to see you when we grab lunch together or when you hold my legs in your lap when we are watching movies. I love you. I love you so much.” your eyes were watering with all of the emotions coming out of you.  Matthew ran up and pulled up into his arms, holding you like he was at the stadium. Then he leaned in and kissed you. It felt like time stopped, everything was still, except for you and him. You couldn’t get enough of him, and he couldn’t get enough of you.
You woke up for the first time in his bed with no clothes on. Matthew was already up and was watching. His grip was firm like if he let you go, he would never see you again. Nothing felt better at that moment.
finished.
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house-md-obsession · 3 years
Text
Shake [James Wilson x Reader] Part Three
153 hours prior.
The talking on the TV jolted her awake. Some rerun of a sitcom found itself playing on the television. Her eyes flit open as she gained awareness of her surroundings. She felt the warmth of the soft quilt James keeps on his couch, it offering the comfort of the late nights she'd spent over there. The smell comforted her— cedar wood... and... Chinese food?
She glances to her right, to see James slurping down lo mein, chopsticks sitting in his hands. When he realizes she's awake, he hastily sets the food down on the coffee table in front of him, and flashes her a smile.
  "Hey, ___. How are you feeling?" He asks, sitting up and readjusting his position. He leans forward a little, finding himself a little closer as she tiredly pushes herself upright. She wipes the sleep from her eyes, and feels her hair tie at the end of a long-fallen ponytail. Her hair was nothing short of a mess, but that was the last thing she'd worried about. She had long given up on how she looked once she had gone two nights without sleep.
  "Honestly? Foul." She muttered, her voice raspy. He struggled to keep for letting out a soft laugh. She tried running her fingers through her tangled hair, and found her fingers caught. She pouted.
  He felt his heart nearly skip a beat.
  "I bought some takeout. I snagged you some sweet and sour chicken if you get hungry. You don't have to eat but I figured I've seen you eat very little since this last case."
  He stood up and walked towards the kitchen.
  "Oh, and here's some Tylenol. You took some earlier but I can't imagine it's still working."
  She suddenly once again felt the headache that had creeped up on her earlier, as if the mention of Tylenol had served as a reminder.
  "Thank you." She said, hoarse voice finding itself softened as he walked back towards her. His soft brown hair was a little askew— small strands of his normally well kept hair hung in front of his softened, mature features. His cheekbones caught the light of the buildings that shone through his opened window. The sun was setting and the orange in which that faintly painted the room was welcomed as the brightness gradually softened and her eyes eased.
  "Yeah, of course." He said, in which she noticed he had grabbed a glass of water for her in the time he ventured over. He handed it to her, his gentle hands making sure her tired ones had a grasp on the glass before letting go, the mildest of touches graced her fingertips.
'His hands are warm.' She thinks to herself.
  He sits down on the couch next to her as she swallows the pills, downing half the glass as well. He laughs softly, no hesitation this time.
  "Should I look into purchasing you a water tower?" He jokes. She flashes him a smile and softly smacks his upper thigh.
  "What time is it?" She asks, and he flicks his watch up at him. She see finds herself for a split second studying his forearm, almost admiring its masculinity. 'Let's not be weird, ___.' She thinks, and her eyes avert.
  "Seven fifty-eight." He says, and she stretches before finding herself back where she was, their upper arms touching as she was just a little closer than before.
  "How long was I out? Time tends to blur together after the first day."
  He glances up at the ceiling for a moment, before turning his gaze to the TV that was on.
  "Hmmm, about four and a half hours I'd say. You passed out in the car, and it took a while to get you in. And you fought with me over offering you my bed."
  "Yeah, offering to let me crash in your bed is a little weird." She said, dryly.
  "Oh yes, God forbid I look out for one of my best friends that couldn't tell if something six inches from her face was within reach less than four hours ago." He almost upsettingly muttered, and relaxed once he glanced over and saw a small smile decorated upon her younger features. He watched for a moment as her eyes drifted closed, her seemingly lost in her own train of thought. He watched as her eyes opened once again and he quickly retrained his focus back onto the TV.
  "Thanks for taking me home and letting me stay here for a little while. I appreciate it, James." She said, her eyes trained on him again as he watches the TV. 'He seems to be so focused on the show. I wonder if he'd even notice if I left.'
  Her mention of his name had him trained on the way it left her lips. He doesn't know what, or why, but it failed to leave his mind.
  A click of the doorknob down the hall jolted her upwards.
  "Of course. I just hope you don't think you're going home yet." She turned around, to be greeted by the rugged features of her boss, as he made his way towards the two. The tap of his cane against the hardwood was a familiar noise that simultaneously relaxed her but kept her on edge.
  "Well, I have work at six in the morning. I should probably make my way home." She said, vaguely confused.
  "No you don't. Forced vacation. If you show up to the hospital for any reason for the next week other than to fawn at your old-man crush Doctor James Wilson, you're fired." He said, before walking towards them. She felt a hot flash radiate over body she became flustered with his words. 'He has a creative way of getting under my skin.' He motions for the two to part, as he plops down in between them. The words her boss spouted hardly even registered. It was just the generalized annoyance his presence brings in which she rolled her eyes.
  "Leave her alone. Someone in their twenties can be friends with someone in their forties. It's not a wild concept, House."
  "No. Only reason someone as attractive as her would befriend someone in their forties is because she's into old men. Someone to pay her debts from medical school because they've paid off their own."
  "House, seriously?" Wilson asked, dumbfounded. He could feel her shutting down from across the couch.
  "You're an ass." She says, and finds herself walking towards James room, in which she closes the door behind her.
  House glances over to his friend, whose lips have curled up into a smile.
  "You're good at that." Wilson says.
  "Annoying her so she will finally take care of herself for once? I've done it a time or two." House said to his friend.  "Besides. I need her. You may want her to be around but I actually need her. To save lives and stuff." House teased. Wilson scoffed.
  "Of course I like having her around. I mean, in the same regards I like having you around. I care about her, I'm going to want her to take care of herself."
  "Yeah, but you almost parent her. It's like a weird fatherly fetish."
  "This has nothing to do with our age difference of maybe ten years. She is twenty-nine. She is more than an adult and also, I do not parent her. I just want what is best for her. Same way I do that for you." James explained, but House wasn't biting that explanation, and neither was he.
  "Whatever. She's hot. You're like every other man and like to look without commitment. I'm sure if you asked she'd send you nudes so you can see more and stop pretending to care." House said. Wilson felt himself get frustrated with that comment.
  "I'm not like you, House. I can have real friendships, as well as ones with the opposite sex. So what if she's attractive? That doesn't matter to me. I mean yes, it's nice to... look. But for me not every relationship I foster is purely sexual." Wilson said, standing up, walking away from the couch.
  "Whatever helps you sleep at night!" House loudly called.
  "SHHHH! She's trying to sleep!"
147 hours prior.
  She awoke to the familiarly loud buzzing of her phone. Sitting up, she found her phone plugged in on the nightstand next to her. 'James must've plugged it in for me at some point while I was asleep.' She thought, and further noticed a glass of water once again on the nightstand as well as a bottle of Tylenol and a note.
  She glanced to see the caller identification was none other than her friend, Remy. She tiredly picked up the phone, and was greeted by the familiar voice.
  "Hey, how're you feeling?" Her soft voice asked through the phone. ___ sat upright, letting out a grunt as she did. Her body seemed to feel even heavier than when she was sleep deprived. ‘Waking up is going to be a bitch.’
“Tired. As fuck. I need to get up and around but I don’t know if I can muster the energy to. James bed is…. so comfy.”
“Well, good thing I’m right outside. We’re getting coffee.”
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danascully77 · 3 years
Note
#10 angst and/or #10 general from the prompt list :)
#10 angst “How was I such an idiot, to believe that you, out of all people, could ever love me?” and/or #10 general “You want to play pretend? Well two can play at that game.” from the prompt list :)
I picked the first one, but tried to work in the second. Hope you like it! <3 
Mulder’s been back from the dead for a few weeks now and things are tense. He’s barely spoken to Scully and tries to avoid looking at her pregnant stomach when they are forced to be in the same room. His eyes will flutter down before snapping up to hers with a sad, detached look in his eyes.
The interaction breaks her heart every time.
Sighing, Scully knocks on the door to his apartment and waits. It feels foreign, this formality. Before his disappearance and subsequent death, she would knock once and then let herself in. It didn’t matter if she was there for work or a casual hangout (or toward the end, for sex). And then after he was gone, she would key into his place to spend the night in his bed. Even though it was lonely and her heart broke for a man she thought she’d never see again, it felt natural to claim ownership of his space.
Now she feels like an intruder even after he opens the door and lets her inside.
She wants to scream, to holler at him, to slap him when he glances down at her stomach before turning away with the same broken expression. He hasn’t even asked her about her pregnancy and it makes her want to throw-up. Why isn’t he happy? Does he regret getting her pregnant? Does he wish she had left him dead?
Too many thoughts burn in her mind. She’s trying to give him space. Coming back from the dead after an abduction can’t be easy (she knows about the latter) and doesn’t want to rush him. Yet, his complete lack of questioning hurts. She longed for him for months and now to have him back as a shell of himself is hard to take.
“I brought Chinese.” Scully says, awkwardly holding up the bag of take-out.
“Thanks.” Mulder takes it from her and settles them on the couch to eat the feast she brought. Scully catches him watching her out of the corner of his eye as she slowly brings herself down to the couch, grunting silently as the weight of her stomach pinches her spine before she rests against the cushions.
“Need another pillow?” Mulder offers, sliding it behind her back before she can nod in affirmation.
The question and action stun her. It’s the closest he has come to acknowledging her pregnancy.
“Thanks.” She whispers. It’s silent then, for the next few minutes as they both pick at their food. Neither are very hungry, but chewing gives them a distraction from talking. Mulder’s tv is on in the background and they both stare at the poorly written sci-fi movie playing out on the screen.
Scully tries to subtly study him from the corner of her eye as she eats. He seems tense and rigid, his lanky limbs coiled as if to spring to action at any moment. She knows his forced vacation/firing is hard on him, making his re-animation even more painful, but there seems to be something else upsetting him. Scully wishes he would speak with her, but can’t find the words to ask him about his feelings.
They were stunted in that department before the abduction. Now it’s even worse.
As a sigh draws from his lips, his food discarded on the coffee table, she knows she’s been caught studying him. She sets her own food to the side and turns to stare at him directly. “Can we talk?”
“About?” His response is smooth, but she catches the slightly annoyed undertone.
“Us.”
“Us?”
“Yes.”
“What is there to say?” This time his tone is less subtle and Scully bites her bottom lip at the irritation in his voice.
“How are you feeling?” It’s a weak question, a cop-out. They both know it. On a normal day, Mulder might let her get away with it, but not tonight.
“Scully, you don’t have to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Check on me.” Mulder waves his hands in front of him. “Hang out like we used to.”
“Why not?” Scully’s nervous. Does he not like her anymore? Does he blame her for not saving him?
“You must have more… important things to do now.” His eyes glance purposefully down at her stomach.
“Oh.” Scully breathes, looking down at her own body. “I’m fine. My doctor said I’m still okay to be active.” Her eyes glance back up at him to find that his jaw is tight and his fists are locked at his sides.
“I didn’t mean that you should stay home.” The low, dark quality of his voice scares her slightly. Scully can tell he is pissed, but isn’t sure why. At her confused expression, Mulder sighs again. “I just meant that you must have someone else to be with now.”
Scully’s confusion turns to utter shock. He doesn’t realize I’m pregnant with his kid. The realization slams into her like a ton of bricks. It all makes sense now. Mulder would have no reason to assume this pregnancy is because of their few nights together. She was sterile. He doesn’t know that they got their miracle.
Her jaw opens and closes twice before she reaches for one of his closed fists. “Mulder, look at me.”
“Scully, I can’t do this.” Mulder shakes his head, anger leaking out of every pore. She tries to cut him off, but he stands suddenly to pace the apartment. “How was I such an idiot, to believe that you, out of all people, could ever love me?”
The heartbreak in his voice draws tears to her eyes. “Mulder.” She tries again, but she can’t get off the couch quickly because of her large stomach and fumbles as he continues to pace.
“You haven’t even mentioned his name. Am I that much of an embarrassment that you don’t want me to know who he is?”
“Mulder, you’re wrong. Let me explain.” She’s desperate now, trying to get off the couch but the old cushions are too soft and she keeps sinking back as she tries to stand.
“I get it, Scully. You thought I was dead, but it’s only been a few months. Months. Am I that easy to get over?”
“Mulder.”
“I should have stayed dead. You should have left me in the ground.”
The moment he switches to self-deprecation in the form of suicide, Scully loses her patience. “Mulder!” His name is a loud shout and it finally draws his attention. “Get me off the fucking couch.”
The annoyance and anger in her tone surprises him and he moves quickly to assist her in standing. He sees her tears forming and mistakes them for frustration. When she’s finally vertical, Mulder’s eyes drop to the floor, deflated now that the anger is gone. “If you want to go back to just being friends, I can pretend that I’m okay with it. I’ll pretend for you, Scully.”
“Mulder, I don’t want you to pretend.”
“Oh.” Mulder nods, tears prickling his own eyes. It’s the first time since being back alive that he has felt any other emotion other than anger and betrayal. “I understand. Thanks for coming to say goodbye.”
“What? No, Mulder. You’re not giving me time to explain.” Scully grabs his hands and holds firm when he tries to pull away. “Look at me.”
“Scully.” “Mulder, shut up and look at me.”
His eyes lock with hers and he stops trying to pull his hands free. His taller frame bends slightly toward her out of an unconscious impulse to be closer and they take a few seconds to breathe. The emotions in the room feel like electricity and both of their bodies have goosebumps from the adrenaline.
“Ask me.” Scully whispers.
It takes him a second to understand, slowly shaking his head back and forth. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. Ask me.” Scully prompts, blue eyes shining up into his with unshed tears.
Mulder gulps and glances at her stomach before meeting her gaze once more. “Whose child…” His voice breaks for a second. “How did you meet…” Mulder sighs. “Is it someone I know?”
Scully smiles a small smirk and drags his hands to touch her stomach. He flinches and tries to withdraw, but she holds steady and tries to ignore the pain in her heart as he attempts to jerk away.
“It’s yours.” Her voice comes out shaky and an octave too high, her fear evident in the quiet of his living room.
Mulder stutters for a second, his eyes rapidly moving up and down from his hands on her stomach to her face. “What?” It’s a breathless question when he is finally able to form words.
“I found out the day you went missing.”
“How? You were sterile. I thought the in vitro fertilization failed?”
Scully shivers as she feels his hands grip her stomach, no longer trying to rip away from her. She’s pretty sure he doesn’t realize he is actively holding her now. “The in vitro did fail.” Scully confirms. “But we had sex…” The word makes her blush despite everything they’ve gone through. “… and…” She breaks off, nervous about saying the word they used to promise to one another.
Mulder’s eyes widen and a tear falls down his cheek. “You got your miracle.”
Scully holds back tears at his wording, reaching up to swipe his from his cheek. “We got our miracle.” Scully holds her breath then. This is the moment. The one that’s been a long time coming. They are either in this together or Scully is about to become a single mother.
The baby kicks before Mulder can respond and he jumps back an inch, staring in wonder at her stomach. Her shirt moves a bit as the baby presses against her, flipping in the womb. Mulder’s mouth opens in shock, looking back at her face in wonder. “Does that hurt?”
“Not really. Sometimes the baby rests on my spine, which is painful, but otherwise it just feels… different. But good different.”
Mulder nods, listening to every word. His hand, which was pulled away from her when he jumped in surprise moves slowly back toward her body. “May I?”
“Of course.” Scully confirms, lacing their fingers before pressing his palm flat on her stomach. “If you hold here sometimes you can feel a kick or two.”
A few seconds later, Scully is proven correct as if the baby in her stomach was waiting for a performance cue. A foot kicks out against her stomach lining and Mulder huffs a pleased laugh in surprise.
“Oh, Scully.” Mulder whispers in breathless awe. The baby kicks again and Mulder pulls Scully into a tight embrace. It’s a bit awkward because of her protruding stomach, but he makes up for it by folding his taller frame around her. “We’re having a baby.”
The moment Mulder takes ownership of their child, Scully’s unshed tears burn down her cheeks. A sob breaks from her lips and she clings to him, fingers digging into his back through his t-shirt. “I’ve missed you so much, Mulder. I… oh god… I thought I was going to raise our child alone.”
Mulder pulls back to cup her face, stroking her wet cheeks. “Scully.” Her whispered name conveys all the emotions they are feeling. She cries openly, watching as Mulder does the same. He opens his mouth to say more, but a kick against his abdomen draws his attention and they both laugh instead. “Our child.” Mulder whispers with a broad smile.
Scully nods and gasps quietly as Mulder drops to his knees. Her hands land in his hair, fluffy from the few weeks he has been back without a haircut, and she strokes his scalp as he slowly lifts her shirt.
“Oh.” A startled gasp breaks from her mouth as his lips land on her bare stomach. The feeling of his pouty lower lip touching her skin makes her body tingle and her fingers dig lightly into his scalp. Emotions pull in her chest and she sobs when he kisses all across her stomach.
“I can’t wait to meet you.” Mulder whispers to the baby after he is done with his kissing exploration.
The words break Scully’s barely withheld resolve and she lets out a loud sob. Bending down, Scully tugs on his hair and slams her lips to his with a wild desperation. Her tears mix with his on his cheeks as she devours his lips. The kiss is messy and sloppy and uncoordinated. Too many emotions make it frantic, but neither of them seem to care. The fact that they are kissing again overshadows finesse.
They pull back as Scully whimpers a sob against his lips. “Scully.” He breathes, standing to pull her back to his chest.
“Please, Mulder.” She whines, not entirely sure what’s she’s asking for but knowing she can’t stand to be without him for a second longer.
As if understanding, Mulder laces their hands and leads her to his bedroom. It’s clean and organized, a sign that Scully was living there during the months that he was missing, but his worn clothes litter the floor. The sight makes another sob pull from her chest and Mulder is quick to remove her shirt, discarding it among his own clothing.
Scully turns slightly, suddenly bashful about the state of her larger body, but Mulder catches her by her arms, holding her steady. “You’re still so beautiful, Scully. I’ve missed your body.”
“Mulder.” She whispers. She realizes that she hasn’t said his name this many times since his disappearance and it feels heavy and reverent on her lips.
Mulder runs his hands across her hips, catching the band of her leggings. “May I?”
“Yes.”
Slowly, her pants are peeled from her legs and she is left standing in her bra and panties. Mulder moans softly, tracing his fingertips up her thighs. They are slightly larger from the extra weight she is carrying and he smiles as they tremble under his hands.
“Gorgeous.” Mulder praises, kissing her hip right where it meets leg.
“Oh my god.” Scully moans, emotions raging wild alongside arousal.
“Is it okay if we…?” Mulder trails off with a slightly embarrassed flush.
Scully giggles and the reprieve makes her feel lighter. The emotional break good for both of them. “Yes. We can have sex while I’m pregnant.”
“I have so much research to catch up on.” Mulder smiles from his position on his knees.
The statement makes Scully’s heart lurch. He is going to research how to be a father. The thought makes her reach for him, bringing him back to his feet. “Can we skip the foreplay? I need you inside of me.” She’s slightly embarrassed at being so blunt about their first time back together, but she doesn’t care.
Mulder must not mind because he nods and kisses her once before stripping off his own shirt and pants. The sight of his bare torso makes her reach for him, stroking up his chest with flat hands.
“Please.” She breathes again.
“How do you want to do this?” Mulder responses.
Scully bites her lip. She wants to be able to see him while they reconnect, but she also knows that doggy-style would be easier with her pregnancy. “I’ll start on top.” She decides. It won’t be for long, but she needs to look at him as she takes him inside her body.
Mulder nods and quickly drops his boxers before sliding onto his bed. He watches with admiration as she slips out of her panties and sheds her bra before straddling him on the bed. It takes a few moments and Mulder’s assistance to get her there, but once she is in place they hold hands on top of her stomach for a few beats of their hearts.
“Ready?” Scully whispers.
“Ready.” Mulder nods.
Their moans join as they cry out into the bedroom, the first few inches of his shaft slipping into her sex. When he is buried inside of her, pelvis to pelvis, they pause and stare at one another. Neither can believe they are here, like this. It’s breathtaking and surreal.
Slowly, Scully begins to bounce up and down. Her movements are small, unable to lift completely with her added weight, but they don’t mind. It keeps him incredibly deep and strokes against her g-spot almost immediately. Scully gasps in surprise at the sudden intense pleasure, stunned that they still fit together so perfectly.
Mulder unlaces their hands to hold her hips, a grin spreading over his features at her slightly wider hips. “Pregnancy looks good on you.”
Scully blushes. Her breasts are larger and swollen as well and sway heavily as she rocks on his hips. Her hands cup them when the swaying starts to ache and smirks a small grin when he moans in response.
After a few more minutes, her breathing gets heavy and her thighs sink against his legs. “Mulder, I can’t…” She doesn’t have to finish her sentence. He rolls them gently over so that she’s propped against some pillows on her back. It takes them a few minutes to get things just right for her back, but it doesn’t kill the mood. Mulder slips back inside of her still just as hard as he was.
With her stomach in the way, Mulder can’t hover above her and settles for pulling her legs over his hips as he rocks into her at a ninety-degree angle to her body. Scully re-cups her breasts as they bounce on her chest and Mulder groans softly at not being able to suck on her nipples.
“Another time.” Scully gasps, catching his longing stare.
He smirks and nods, keeping his thrusts steady in and out of her. Her wetness coats his shaft and he moans at the sight of their arousals joining between their thighs.
“Scully.” Mulder moans. “I’m not going to last much longer.” He sounds apologetic, but Scully shakes her head to dismiss his embarrassment. He just came back from the dead after all. He can’t be expected to have stamina. Not when the love of his life just told him that the baby in her belly is his.
“It’s okay.” Scully promises, reaching for one of his hands again.
“Are you close?”
“No.” Scully admits with no malice in her voice. “But the pregnancy makes orgasming tough sometimes.”
“I can wait until…”
Scully cuts him off with a shake of her head. “I don’t care if I don’t orgasm tonight. I just want to feel you come in me.”
The bluntness makes Mulder groan and he squeezes her hand. “You sure?”
“Yes.” Scully nods with a smile.
They had only slept together a few times before he went missing, but she learned quickly that he was a very thoughtful lover. She never went without an orgasm, often coming multiple times in a session. Scully knows it’s not in his nature to come first, but moans as he lets himself go just this once, confident that she is telling him the truth about her desires.
His hips piston a bit harder and quicker inside of her, stroking himself along her slippery walls before tipping over the ledge of pleasure. He cries out her name, fucking her through his orgasm as he empties inside of her.
The action makes them both think about the child in her belly and after he spurts the last of his orgasm into her core he falls next to her, collecting her in his arms. Her ass meets his softening cock, their arousals smearing on her lower back, but neither mind the mess. His arms keep her close and they breath in unison for a long time.
“I’m going to be a father.”
“I’m going to be a mother.”
Mulder holds her stomach, feeling the baby wiggling around in her stomach and Scully’s hands join his on her body.
There are a lot of unknowns left to figure out. Their relationship, the x-files, if they will co-parent while living together, etc. but for right now they are back together and that’s all that matters. Scully’s in his bed with him and she isn’t alone anymore.
Turning onto her back, she kisses him deeply before settling back to be the little spoon. “Mulder?”
“Yeah, Scully?” “You do know I love you, right?”
Mulder hugs her tighter to him. “I do now. I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”
“I should have explained the pregnancy the moment you woke up.”
Mulder kisses her shoulder. “Let’s talk about this later. I just want to hold you and our baby for a while.” Scully smiles as his thumbs brush her belly back and forth. It’s quiet for a second longer. “I love you too, Scully.”
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harryhandstan · 3 years
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This is my contribution to @meetmeinfleetwood​‘s “to lovers” fic challenge! I chose the trope roommates to lovers and the prompt “I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do.” This was fun to write thank you for allowing me to participate!
Thank you to my beta readers @tbslenthusiast​, @witch-harry​, and @sunflowers-styles​! Y’all are the best!!
no warnings that I can think of other than alcohol tw // bc of the wine they share!
word count: 2.3k
writing tag | masterlist
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It’s 5:45 p.m. when you finally leave work for the day. You should’ve just said to hell with it and went home at 5:30 like you were supposed to, but you were nice enough not to. Too nice you’d been told in the past, but it’s a flaw you’re willing to accept if it gets you a promotion to the position you ultimately dreamed of working when you started there 3 years ago.
After a quick stop to grab a bottle of wine (or two), your car can’t get you home fast enough. It’s Friday and you’re looking forward to spending time doing absolutely nothing for the next two days but curling up in a blanket and watching Christmas movies in the apartment you will essentially be alone in. Your roommate Harry shared the space with you, but kept to himself for the most part. Aside from dinners and movie nights on rare occasions when your schedule lined up, allowing you to spend the evening together.
As if your thoughts summoned him, your phone dinged, indicating a new message. Your eyes dart down to where it sits in the passenger seat, careful to keep your eyes on the car in front of you, waiting patiently for the light to turn red so you can grab your phone to respond.
It’s one simple word, “Home?” so you know he’s either still working or on his own drive home. 
Your reply is just as direct, “Not yet. On my way! Movie night?” 
The light’s green again so you tuck your phone back into your purse, ignoring the next ding until you arrive home. You’re through the door of your apartment and down the hall before you read his message, “Sure. Chinese or pizza?” 
“Chinese! I’ll pick the movie and you pay for dinner?”
“That doesn’t sound fair :(”
“Alright fine, you get home before I’m out of the shower and in my pajamas you can pick the movie..deal?”
“Deal!”
The race is on then, both of you competitive and determined to win. You have a movie in mind that you’ve been dying to watch all day and you don’t want to have to rock-paper-scissors to break the tie like you usually do when the two of you don’t agree on who wins  these little games. 
You’d already shed most of your layers of clothing easily as you moved through the apartment; your boots kicked off by the door, jacket gone and thrown over the back of one of the kitchen chairs, cardigan pulled from your body and tossed on the bed by the time you made it to your bedroom. It doesn’t take long to strip the rest away and to gather a set of pajamas from your well organized drawer before darting across the hall to the shared bathroom.
You know you have at minimum 45 minutes to be done, an hour if he goes to the better Chinese place a little further across town, which he most likely would. You’d been dreaming of ending your week with a bubble bath, but you don’t take the chance now, just hop under the hot spray of the shower, hoping it will have the same relaxing effect. Your eyes are closed as you tilt your head back to wet your hair while one hand fumbles over the bottles to find your shampoo. 
Eyes still closed, you tip the bottle to add a bit to your hand, but you freeze when you open your eyes temporarily to close the bottle and put it back on the shelf. It’s Harry’s shampoo you’ve grabbed instead and for a moment you don’t know what to do. You don’t know how many times you’ve teased him about how expensive his products are. But he would never let you hear the end of it if he came home and you smelled like him. Ultimately you would’ve felt too guilty to waste it, so you work it through and hope he never finds out. Pray that the act washes away just like the suds do when you rinse them from your hair. 
By your hopeful calculations, you still have about 10 minutes left before he arrives by the time you're done in the shower. You decide to give him a fair advantage, venturing into the kitchen to decide which bottle of wine would pair best with dinner. When you make your selection, you pour yourself a glass, settling into a comfy spot on the couch. The black remote taunts you from the small wooden coffee, and you grab it. No harm in getting the movie ready while you wait, right?
You’re 2 glasses deep and 20 minutes into the movie when he arrives, a smirk on his face at the sight of you. Your eyes go wide when you see him. You’re not sure why, there had been many nights he’d found you in the same position, but tonight feels different. You gulp down the sip of wine, too tipsy and unaware that you’re staring. Had his dimples always been that prominent when he smiled? Even without your glasses you could spot that grin that stretched a mile wide across his face.
“Haroldddd..you’re home!”
He hated that nickname, had always despised when other people called him that, but falling from your lips it sounds like a prayer and he would gladly change his name to that if he thought it would make you the least bit happy.
“S’pose I lost, huh? Got the food pretty quickly but stopped to get this,” He holds up a bottle of wine, ironically the very same kind that you’re drinking now, “Shoulda known y’would already have some!”
“Oh good, you got some for yourself..this one’s almost empty..”
“M’not that late, am I?” He chuckles as he makes his way to the counter, looking between you and the bottle.
“Hey..it’s a small bottle! This is only my third glass and I’ve barely even touched it.”
“Rough day?” He’s pulling plates down now and retrieving a glass for himself from the cabinet.
“Rough week. Rough few weeks, really.” You take a few more sips as you watch him prepare a plate of food. You figure he’s just making his own, and you wait patiently for him to finish so you won’t be in the way. But when he makes his way around the counter, he’s holding two plates in his hand and wow you want to jump from your spot and kiss him. You restrain yourself, as hard as it may be, and try to focus on the question he’s asking you.
He holds the plates towards the table and then towards where you sit on the couch, silently wanting to know where you’d prefer to enjoy your meal. You pat the spot next to you, inviting him to move closer, knowing how much effort it would take to lift yourself from your warm, comfy spot to go eat at the table.
“Emily still on vacation?” 
“Yes! And she expects us to do double the work while she’s gone! It’s her 3rd vacation this year. I know she’s the boss but..”
“Doesn’t mean she has to be a bitch to you.” He finishes your sentence for you, brow furrowed, upset at even the idea of someone mistreating you in the slightest. 
“Right! Thank you!” 
You hold your hand out to accept the plate he’s made for you, “Got our usual, hope that’s alright.”
“Yeah, that’s fine. I was just joking earlier about you paying for all of it. I’ll pay you back for my half.”
He’s already shaking his head no, stuffing a bite of food in his mouth, “It was my turn anyway, r‘member? You paid for those tacos we had last week.”
“Right, I did. Forgot about that.”
You watch him devour a few more bites, your eyes darting from your plate to his, “Yours looks better.”
“Huh?”
Maybe it’s the wine making you more bold, you’d normally never complain, “Your plate it just..looks better than mine. Switch with me.”
“It’s literally the same thing..and I’ve already eaten half the noodles off mine.” He looks mildly annoyed at even the suggestion.
“Don’t care..it looks better. Switch.�� You realized just how bratty you sound, so you add a quick, “Please?”
He huffs dramatically, switching the plates and giving you a sarcastic smile, “Happy?”
You return his smile, blissfully unaware of his annoyance in your tipsy state, “Very, thank you.”
You both turn your attention to the tv you realize now you had forgotten to pause, so the movie had progressed further, about 30 minutes in now.
His irritation has already faded when he asks, “What are y’making me watch?”
You start to explain the plot but stop mid-bite of your food, “Wait..have you never seen this movie?”
He shrugs, “Doesn’t look familiar.”
“Oh we’re definitely starting it over then!” 
“No, ya don’t hafta..”
It’s too late, you’ve already discarded your now mostly empty plate of food, nearly knocking your glass of wine over in your excitement of making him watch one of your favorite movies.
Almost an hour in, you don’t notice that Harry’s eyes have drifted to you. In fact, they’d mostly stayed on you since you’d restarted the movie. Your facial expressions were better to him than any movie; the way your eyes softened at the more heartwarming parts, or when your mouth formed a soft ‘o’ and gasped at parts he was certain you had probably seen at least a dozen times before.
You clasp your hand over your heart dramatically and he doesn’t even flinch, just listens intently when you say, “I love this part..this is the moment.”
His eyes temporarily flash back to the tv then, “The moment?”
“Yeah, you know, the moment. Where the guy looks at the girl and realizes he’s in love.” You sigh deeply, “I always wanted someone to look at me like that.”
Oh, you mean like what’s happening now between us? God he hopes for just a glance from you, a chance to show you that you’re living your own moment now if you’d just look at him. 
It’s tumbling out of his mouth quicker than he can stop it, his mouth working faster than his brain, but it’s a low enough whisper he thinks maybe you won’t hear.
“I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do.”
You do hear him, though you don’t believe it at first. Your hand is still resting over your heart, searching his face for any sign of teasing or dishonesty.
“H..did you just..?”
He’s looking down at his hands, fingers fiddling with one of the rings adorning his fingers, nodding before replying, “I did.” 
“How long?”
“Um..since the first week we’ve lived together? That first night we made dinner together and it was a disaster. Thought you were gonna catch the place on fire.” A giggle escapes him at the memory of you, rushing around the kitchen that night, face flushed red and hair a mess.
“That’s my moment? Almost burning our apartment down?”
“That and now, yeah. Just been strugglin’ with the best way to tell you. S’pose the wine’s making me a lil’ more fearless,'' He takes a deep breath, still not able to look at you in case he finds even a hint of rejection on your face, “But I understand if you don’t feel the same..”
“I do.”
His head snaps to look at you then, eyes widening for a second before he composes himself, “Really?”
You can’t stop the smile that blooms across your face at the sight of the thrill in his eyes. There’s a new buzz of elation in the air, but neither of you make a move at first. A pleasant tension fills the space between the two of you.
You break the silence, “So..what do we do now?”
“S’all up to you how fast and how far we take this. M’all in though, ready when you are, love. A cuddle might be nice while we finish the movie, if you’re up f’that.”
“I think I could handle that. I want something else first though.”
He’s trying to read your mind, thinks he knows exactly what it is, but he wants to hear you say it. Wants to hear the words he’s been waiting to hear for what feels like a lifetime now.
“Kiss me, Harry.”
You’ve already turned your body towards him; the movie, the food and the wine all long forgotten. He clears the space between the two of you easily, a hand on the side of your neck to add just enough pressure to pull you towards him.
Your lips crash against his, noses bumping at first but it doesn’t stop you, it only makes you crave him deeper and closer. You press your knees into his thighs, pushing yourself up so that you hover over him, your hair falling around his face. It’s still slightly damp from the shower, and his hand comes to rest on the back of your head now. 
There’s a smug look on his face when he pulls away, a hand still placed on your hip to hold you steady. He’s still breathless when he asks, “Did you use my shampoo?”
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When you wake up in his bed the next morning, you question if last night was a mistake. You don’t regret it, not for a second, just wonder if maybe things will be different in the morning light. 
So when you barely touch the plate of eggs and toast he’s made for you for breakfast, he worries you’re having second thoughts about him, that he’s ruined any friendship you’ve already built by rushing into a relationship. 
So when you say, “Did you really mean what you said last night..about loving me?” He visibly relaxes, dropping his shoulders and beaming at you from across his own breakfast plate.
“Oh, darlin’,” He plucks a piece of uneaten toast from your plate, winking at you as he does, “You don’t know the half of it.” 
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Text
you look after everyone, but who looks after you?
Summary: Penelope is sad and lonely and thinks nobody can see her struggling, but Emily does. When she shows up at her apartment unannounced, one thing leads to another, and soon a miserable evening turns into one of the best in Penelope's life.
Tags: hurt/comfort, sad penelope, angst w a happy ending, cuddling, tooth-rotting fluff, getting together, first kiss, friends to lovers
Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Penelope Garcia
Word Count: 1.7k
Masterlist // Read on AO3
I'm imagining s5/6 penemily for this one!
Penelope's small and bright apartment is her only source of comfort tonight, and although she does absolutely everything in her power to maximise the cosiness, to feel as safe and warm as possible inside its protective walls, it still doesn't feel like enough.
She's sad, and she's tired, and a larger part of her than she'd like to admit is bitter, which is an icky emotion, and she hates more than anything that it exists inside of her but tonight, it does, and there isn't anything she can do to stamp that stubborn little flame out.
She has always prided herself on the way she acts towards others. She makes sure that people are okay, and she bakes homemade muffins and puts them on their desks with one of her colourful toys when the bad stuff is getting to them, and she gives out hugs like there's no tomorrow; that's who Penelope Garcia is, and it's something that will always be important to her, no matter what.
But sometimes— sometimes she wants her own Penelope Garcia. It's easier to cheer other people up, to make them smile on a sad and rainy day, than it is to pick herself up out of her own all-consuming, utterly inexorable funks that creep up on her every now and then. And because happiness, colour, and bright smiles are who she can't help but be, people don't always see through that facade when it's no longer an instinct but a mask.
And because she would never dream of putting her bad mood or her sadness or her heavy, weighty grief on the shoulders of anyone else, she's left on her own.
When the last candle is the living room is lit, and her favourite lamps are on; when she's taken a hot shower, and she's put on her favourite pyjamas; when she's placed the order for her dinner-for-one, she sits down slowly on the sofa and pulls her knees up to her chest, staring at the inky blackness of the one window she forgot to draw the curtains over. As she stares, the inky blackness she feels on the inside only grows until it consumes her, swirling aggressively until tears are streaming down her face, and she's choking back sobs that threaten to rip her chest in two.
She's only brought out of her miserable, desolate stupor when the intercom buzzes with a visitor that she supposes is probably the delivery man with her Chinese order. She'd fancied Indian, but it reminded her too much of the team dinners Spencer always dragged them to, and that was just a little too painful for a lonesome night like this.
"Come on up," she says into the intercom, not bothering to hide the tiredness in her voice from a stranger she'll never see again, and without waiting for a response, she sits back on the sofa, staring at the purple walls of her apartment until there's a soft knock at the door.
Almost on auto-pilot, she stands up and opens the door, and her eyes widen as she stares in shock at Emily Prentiss standing in her hallway.
"You're not the delivery man," she whispers, still staring at her with wide eyes.
Emily chuckles sadly. "No, Pen. I'm not."
Penelope nods, blinking a couple of times, very unsure of what to do next or why the woman she's secretly in love with is standing in front of her at 10pm on a Tuesday night.
"Can I come in?" Emily prompts.
"Oh, uh— yes, of course." She opens the door wide enough for Emily to slip into her warmly lit living room and takes the opportunity of Emily's back briefly turned to scrub fruitlessly at her makeup-less, tear-stained face.
"This is cosy."
"Yeah, I just reread my favourite book about Hygge."
"Hygge?"
"It's uh. It's a Danish thing." Usually, she jumps at the opportunity to talk about Hygge and all the things she'd learned from her trip to visit her Danish friend last year, but right now, she's far too tired.
Emily nods, dropping her handbag by the door and walking over to take a seat on the sofa. "Come sit."
Penelope obeys and curls up in the opposite end to Emily, pulling a blanket over her lap and cuddling into it in another vain attempt to cheer herself up. Still, when pretty candles and the promise of takeaway can't make her happy, there really isn't much hope.
They stare at each other for a couple of minutes before Emily speaks, leaning forward a little. "How are you feeling, Penelope?"
Penelope blinks. "I'm fine."
Emily smiles, and again, it's sad. "No, Pen. How are you really feeling?"
She continues staring but doesn't say anything in response.
Emily scoots a little closer on the sofa. "Listen, I've watched you over the last couple of days. I know you're having a hard time, and I know that you won't say anything to anyone because you're brave and strong and quiet in your suffering. You look after everyone, Penelope, but who looks after you?"
Immediately at hearing those words, her face crumples, and she descends into the tears she'd only just managed to stop moments earlier. This time, though, the sobs she'd been choking back spillover, wracking her shoulders as she hugs her knees to her chest, desperate to hold herself together as she completely falls apart.
"Oh, Pen." Emily moves even closer and pries Penelope's hands away from her knees until she's able to guide her into a hug. Penelope usually tries to keep her physical distance from Emily, too scared of what she'll do if given a chance to touch her, but right now, she can't help but bury her face in her neck and cling on to her for dear life as Emily holds her back just as tightly.
"Shh, you're okay, honey," she soothes quietly, running her hand up and down her back gently as she lets Penelope fall apart in her arms. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
She says everything Penelope needs to hear as she cries herself out, sobs eventually receding to tired sniffles as she pulls away from Emily slightly, a little embarrassed of her actions.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cry on you like that."
Emily brings a hand to her chin and lifts her face gently until she's looking directly into Emily's warm, kind brown eyes. "You have nothing to apologise for, okay? I'm just sorry you've been having such a rough time and haven't had anyone to talk to about it."
Penelope nods, still embarrassed that she fell apart so easily but feeling soothed and comforted by Emily's warm words and gentle hands.
Just then, the buzzer goes again. "That's, uh, that's my dinner."
"Ah," Emily says, nodding in understanding. "Is that who you thought I was?"
Penelope looks away sheepishly. "Yeah."
"That explains the abrupt invitation upstairs," Emily says, smiling at her as she gets off the sofa and buzzes the courier up. "You mind if I stick around while you eat?"
"No! Please— please stay," she says, hating the desperation that bleeds into her voice.
"Okay, I'll stay, of course I will," Emily promises, rushing to soothe her again as she hears the agitation and distress in Penelope's voice. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."
Penelope nods gratefully. "You can even have some of my eggrolls," she says, managing a little smile as she references the well-known fact that Emily despises eggrolls and makes such a big, dramatic deal out of it every time any of them order Chinese.
Emily laughs, her head tipping back a little. "You're so generous."
She opens the door for the delivery man and takes the bag from him, before bringing it over to the coffee table and laying it out in front of Penelope.
"You should eat up, sweetie," she says in that kind, concerned way of hers as she comes to sit next to her on the sofa, "I'm sure that crying took it out of you, hm?"
Penelope nods tiredly and tucks into her dinner as Emily flicks through the TV channels before settling on a rerun of Will & Grace. They sit in comfortable silence for a little while as the familiar sound of a 90s laugh-track sitcom fills the room and Penelope eats her dinner.
"You need another hug?" Emily asks once she's finished her food and is inching closer on the sofa, and Penelope might be delusional but she swears she sees an inkling of hope on her face, so she doesn't hesitate in nodding.
Emily beams and pulls her closer, arranging them until they're lying horizontally on the sofa, comfortably tangled up in one another, idly watching the TV while they enjoy the comfort of one another's company.
"Pen?" Emily whispers, after a good couple of episodes; after most of the tealights Penelope had lit earlier have burned themselves out. "You know I love you right?"
There's something in her voice that makes Penelope feel brave. "Yeah," she whispers back, burying even closer into her side. "I love you, too, Emily. More than you know."
The last four words are uttered with a weight the fragile air in the room can't hold, and they crash back down between them, making Emily shift to look at her properly. Her face is a myriad of earnest emotions, and Penelope can't look away.
"When I say I love you," Emily says, nerves and anticipation and hope in the whisper of her voice, "I mean it. I don't— I don't love you like a friend, Penelope. I love you more than that."
Penelope stares at her, her heart pounding in her chest as she looks at the woman lying next to her, anxious, hopeful features illuminated by soft candlelight.
"I love you more than that, too."
Emily's nervous features smooth into something warm and eager and happy. "You do?"
Penelope nods, and she's sure her face holds a similar expression. "I do."
"Can I kiss you?" Emily whispers, lifting her hand to rest in Penelope's blond, tangled hair.
"Please," she whispers back, and not a second later she's being kissed like she's never been kissed before; like the ocean's dried up and she's the last gulp of water to be found; like all the world's oxygen's disappeared, and she's the only gasp of fresh air left behind. She's kissed like she is Penelope Garcia and that is enough for Emily Prentiss, she's kissed like she doesn't need anything else but to exist in this moment, right here, right now.
She doesn't want it to end, but when it does, when they've pulled away and their faces are inches apart and they're breathing heavily, when she looks into Emily's eyes and sees everything she's always wanted to find in them, she's glad it did, because the first kiss ending means that they can do it again.
Yes, I'm gonna keep writing that Penelope is very invested in Danish culture okay, it's my fav headcanon, leave me alone. I hope you liked this one! <3
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