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juicycoutureheaux · 11 months

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Fixer Upper

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Hey y'all. Here's Chapter 2 of my Sheriff!Leon Kennedy AU. Just a couple of notes, this chapter does have some TW. Domestic violence and Alcohol are mentioned in this chapter. If those are active triggers for you and still want to read, PM me and I'll be glad to summarize for you. Seriously! Also I gave Patrick a last name because he literally DOES NOT HAVE ONE. LOL Anyway this is kind of slowburn-y and this may be more than three chapter but not too many. I might extend to four. Anyways this fic was inspired by @angelscoda and I strongly recommend that if you haven't discovered her page, check her works out! Also, I churned out this Chapter and it hasn't been edited very well, but I did not wanna keep yall waiting. Also if you or anyone you know is affected by domestic violence call 800-799-7233 or text 'START' to 88788. You are not alone, your family and friends love you no matter what situation you may be in or what your abuser says. Love is patient and Love is kind.

You went to bed with a strange feeling. Instead of thinking of your sweetheart, Patrick, you were enamored with the thought of your new boss, Sheriff Kennedy.

He was so kind and unpretentious, it seemed so easy to be around him. You wondered if he read books or looked at the stars and wondered what was behind them like you did.

Y/N shook herself out of her thoughts and drifted off to sleep.

She dreamt of finding new life on other planets, her parents taking her seriously, and most importantly, she dreamt of Leon.

You woke with a start, to the sky at the precipice of sunrise. The oranges and purples danced together as the moon made its grand exit into the horizon.

You swiveled around to the side of your twin bed and let the bottoms of your feet touch the smooth hardwood floor.

You turned off the old fan on your bedside table. The fan had seen better days, however, y/n had taught herself how to make repairs to keep it in working condition.

Her tinkering had been born out of necessity; however, over time she grew to love being able to make old things efficient again. She wondered if Patrick ever had to repair a fan or anything really.

She imagined he had enough money to get a new anything, anytime it broke.

You started the morning by combing your hair and brushing your teeth. You splashed cold water on your face to make it seem less irritated. You didn’t want to admit it, but you wanted to look good for Leon, even if he didn’t notice.

You picked out your favorite dress and ironed out all the wrinkles. You looked at yourself in the mirror admiring your reflection. You felt confident enough to head down the stairs to the kitchen table.

Mary-Anne and Mama were busy fixing breakfast. Mama was fussing over Mary-Anne telling her to sit down and whatnot.

“Mama L/N, I promise I’m fine and your grandchild is just fine!”

“All that moving, he’s gonna come early!” You heard your mama say.

“You and the rest of the family are so sure Hank & Mary-Anne’s baby is going to be a boy.” You said announcing your presence.

“Good! Someone else is here, Mary-Anne! Please sit!” Mama said, exasperated.

Mary-Anne, not wanting to put up a fight any longer, sat down.

“Y/N, why don’t you look pretty today? I remember when I could wear dresses like that!” Mary-Anne said, rubbing her belly.

“You mean like six months ago?” You said sarcastically.

Mary-Anne smiled and your mother rolled her eyes.

You grabbed an apron not wanting to ruin your dress, and began kneading the dough for the biscuits.

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay too long, mama. I gotta make sure I'm on time to meet my new boss!” You said a little too enthusiastically because your mother whipped her head around to look at you.

“You know, if you marry Patrick, you won’t have to work anymore, you’ll be busy planning parties and get-togethers for all the married ladies.”

“Mama…” you groaned.

“I’m just saying Y/N, you would love it, imagine, my daughter, the belle of the social season in Collier!” Her mother sighed. “So don’t ruin it by chasing after some cop!”

“Mama!” You said insulted.

Mary Anne decided to get in between the duo.

“I think Y/N just wanted to make sure he felt welcome; after all, it is her job.” She made sure to emphasize the last word.

Mama’s body relaxed and so did yours.

With that, you kissed your mama goodbye on the cheek and mouthed a “thank you!” to Mary-Anne.

You walked out the door shocked, to see your new boss waiting outside leaning up against the side of the patrol car.

“Hey! Y/N!” He said, smiling with all of his teeth.

You thought your legs were going to turn to jello, he was so handsome.

“W-what are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d save you the trouble of driving that old truck and risk not having a secretary for the day.” He opened the passenger door. “Wouldn’t want to make me late for my first day would you?”

You smiled a genuine smile.

You hopped in the car and you made your way down the road.

The radio was playing Elvis's “Blue Suede Shoes.”

“You like this kind of Music Deputy Kennedy?” You asked genuinely curious. He didn’t strike you as the Elvis type.

“You can call me Leon when it’s just us,” he said, eyes not straying from the road.

He made you blush, and you sank down in the seat unconsciously.

“But to answer your question,” he looked at you with those sharp baby blues. “I love the King.”

You laughed together like it was the funniest joke ever.

You were a little disappointed when you arrived at the station. You could have spent the whole day in the car with Leon.

You two entered the building and you went quickly to the break room to start the coffee for the day.

Leon entered his new office and opened the blinds. Two years ago he would have never imagined a career in law enforcement, let alone a town like Collier’s Sheriff.

Leon was brought out of his thoughts when you walked into the room carrying a fresh cup of coffee.

“Should I get used to this or are you just being nice because its my first day?”

You looked at him confused.

“I’m not used to someone else doing things like this for me.”

“Well get used to it,” you said happily. “The old boss made me bring him his coffee like clockwork and I had to make it juuuussst riiiiigggghhhttt.” You emphasized.

Leon just nodded.

“So Deputy Kennedy, how do you like your coffee?”

“I can make it myself Y/N, don’t worry about it.”

“I insist! You’re going to be pretty busy, pretty soon.” You said looking into the mug. “I don’t want you to worry about the easiest part of your day.”

Leon smiled and patted you on the shoulder. “I take it black, with just a little bit of sugar, Y/N. Thank you.”

You smiled and felt your cheeks get a bit rosy. You fixed his coffee and set it on his desk.

“Well if you need me, I’ll be outside the door. Just ring me if you need me.”

He grabbed your hand gently. “Do you mind staying in here just a little bit longer, I’m not ready to start working quite yet.” He smiled a toothy, but nervous smile.

You held on to his hand and squeezed it in a friendly, assuring manner.

“Of course, Leon.”

He smiled in response.

You looked around the office. It was empty, there were no pictures of his family or any personal effects to the room, save for a framed police academy diploma.

“They didn’t give you time to set up here?”

“What do you mean Y/N?”

“The last guy here had tons of pictures and hunting trophies and…” you realized your mistake a little too late. Maybe, Deputy Kennedy didn’t have those things and you had just reminded him of the fact.

Leon smiled a sad smile, “Well maybe while I’m here, I’ll be able to fill this room with all those things.”

“Leon, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay, you’re honest. I like that about you.”

You smiled and heat spread across your cheeks.

“I don’t have any living family members, I grew up in a group home.”

You felt so embarrassed. How could you just interrogate him like that?

The blowing of the A/C unit emphasized the silence. It felt like your body was on autopilot when you went up to him to pat him on the shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Leon, I hope you can find your chosen family here.”

“That's really nice of you, Y/N. I hope I do too.”

You quickly took your arm off of his bicep, realizing you were touching your boss in a more than intimate way. You didn’t want to be known as “that” type of girl.

You quickly mumbled “Gotta get back to work,” or something along those lines, and scuttled away.

Leon just kicked his boots and sat down behind his desk. He couldn’t quite figure it out, was she flirting with him or was she genuinely kind? He hated to admit it, but he was used to women throwing themselves at him. They’d be good for a night or two, but they never seemed to care to learn more about him than what he could do for them.

Y/N was sweet, but she was young. She probably had never had a real relationship before, her kindness was just surface-deep; it was nothing more.

He decided to go ahead and look over the schedule for the week that Y/N had already prepared for him.

He could get used to this.

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You were heading to Leigh’s diner to grab lunch for the office. It was actually one of your favorite tasks. You were able to get out of the office and walk around town for a bit. It also helped that you walked past “Gannem’s Appliances” where they always had the news on in the window.

You would take a moment to look at the goings on in the world, to see what was happening outside of your small fishbowl of a town.

The announcer was reading hastily from a fresh news bulletin.

“After 40 years of groundbreaking research, NACA has officially decided to change its name to NASA. The official decision was made late last week, after changing their focus from just flight to space travel of humans and robots.”

You could have fallen right where you stood. Robots? Spaceflight? You were in heaven, you had only daydreamed about working in a high-tech lab with robots; now it was really happening.

You quickly looked at your wristwatch and scuttled to the diner to pick up the order before the men at the office got too hungry and wondered where she was at.

You walked into the bustling diner, thank goodness her order wasn’t quite ready yet. You decided to stay out of the way of the other patrons and sat at an odd chair near the window. You felt almost invisible, but, you were used to it and didn’t mind.

You were stuck in your thoughts until the sound of women gossiping brought you out of your stupor.

“Did you see the new Sheriff? He’s a cutie!” one girl with perfectly coiffed blonde hair asked.

“Do you think he has a secretary? They almost always marry the secretary!” Another girl with auburn hair giggled.

Y/N recognized the girls. They were girls from her graduating class, they had gone to the same school since kindergarten and they either didn’t seem to recognize her or were ignoring her. You couldn’t decide what was worse.

“Oh he has a secretary all right, it's Y/N. Do you remember her from school?”

The girl with auburn hair just raised her eyebrows in slight confusion.

“Great.” you thought. “They don’t remember.” That stung.

“Well, she wasn’t much of anyone, she’s lucky her daddy “the farmer” got her the job,” she emphasized the farmer part as she lit her cigarette.

“Ohhh, I remember said the auburn-haired girl. “Isn’t OUR Patrick supposed to be courting her? I heard his mother set him up, guess they’re trying to fix his image. I hear he made a fool out of himself at the University of Georgia last year. His daddy had to call in a LOT of favors from his buddies from the law school.”

“That’s just Patrick, he’ll grow out of it. I feel bad for him, one bad mistake and he has to get married off to the first prude that would take him. I bet Y/N’s mother is just beside herself, all the new social connections and money.”

“My mama told me her mama was a social climber. Always trying to get invited to social events; well she’ll never belong just like her daughter.”

The girls broke into laughter.

Your face was red from anger and embarrassment.

Of course, your order was ready and the waitress called out your name which made the girls' heads snap and turn around to look at you. You did your best not to make eye contact, as you grabbed the food, but tears were already falling from your eyes.

As you left you could hear them burst out in more malicious laughter.

You were humiliated, and you just wanted to get back to work.

You were two doors down from the office when you heard a car next to the sidewalk slow to a roll. You instinctively glanced over and there was Patrick in his fancy car. He was definitely the last person you wanted to see right now.

“Hey, baby. I missed you.” He slurred as he stumbled out of the car.

You took a minute to look at his car, there were beer bottles littering the back seat.

“Let’s go for a ride, I’m bored and I want some alone time with my girl.” He grabbed her roughly.

“Have you been drinking? Why did you drive here? You know it's dangerous! You whispered harshly at him. People were beginning to stare.

“Baby, I just wanted to see you, I’m lonely. You should keep me happy you know, if you’re gonna be my wife,” he was looking at you like a piece of meat.

You felt sick to your stomach.

“I have to get this back to the office, then I’ll come with you.” You were trying to stall, you didn’t want to make him angry, but you surely didn’t want to get in the car with him.

It didn’t matter. He didn’t like your answer. Patrick was shockingly strong and when he yanked you into him, you both fell over and you yelped.

People were now watching and whispering.

You wanted to disappear into dust and wondered if you should have just got in the car, maybe nothing would have happened, and the two of you wouldn’t be out on the sidewalk in the middle of town embarrassing yourselves.

Patrick yanked you up and raised his hand to hit you, you braced for impact when someone broke you two up.

It was Leon and his face was calm, but she could feel the anger radiating from him.

“Y/N! Do you know this man?” He said calmly but firmly.

Before you could answer, Patrick yelled at Leon. “I had it handled man, she’s my fiance. We don’t need your services anymore.” He made a move to grab your arm again. Leon moved in between you two.

“Sir, not only are you in violation of a city ordinance of being intoxicated in public, but you are also assaulting your fiance in public, which is a felony charge.”

Patrick just scoffed. “And what? You’re gonna arrest me? Do you even know who I am?”

Leon stepped closer to Patrick, they were about the same height, but something about Leon’s body language made him seem taller.

“Yes, Sir you’re under arrest for the assault of my secretary Miss Y/L/N. You have the right to remain silent…” he began cuffing Patrick in broad daylight.

“Wait a minute! Y/N just tell him we were just fooling around baby.” Patrick pleaded with you.

“Deputy Kennedy please, we’ll handle this in private. Patrick just made a bad mistake that's all.”

You pleaded to Leon, you hoped he would take your side.

“Handle in private? Are we supposed to wait until he kills you Y/N?” He said loudly.

You couldn’t move. This was really happening and everyone was going to blame you for Patrick going to jail.

Leon picked Patrick up and brought him into the station and locked him up in their little holding cell.

Everyone in the office was dead silent when they saw who Deputy Kennedy was bringing in on the first day. You followed in quickly behind them and everyone glared at you. You ignored the glares and got on the phone to call Senator Armstrong, Patrick’s father.

Deputy Kennedy refused to let you see your Fiance, stating that she was the victim and a witness to his crime.

You just sat in your small little cubicle and cried. You cried over how embarrassed you were and how those girls were right, Patrick didn’t really love you. How could he? Who would do that to someone they loved?

The sounds of a man shouting broke the silence of the police department.

“How could you lock this man up? It was a simple lovers' quarrel, they’re both kids!” You heard Senator Armstrong’s baritone voice fill the small station.

“You either ignore your son’s behavior or are too ignorant to see it.” Leon quipped back.

“Excuse me?” Armstrong sneered. “You better watch it boy or I’ll…”

“Or what Armstrong? I’ll go missing? Don’t go incriminating yourself in the police department now.” Leon said smugly.

You walked out of your cubicle to see the scene unfolding in front of you. You thought Senator Armstrong was going to have an aneurysm with how red his face was.

He quickly looked over at you and saw your tear-stained face. “My poor future daughter! Look what you’ve done! You’ve upset her by jailing her fiance right in front of her!”

He wrapped a heavy arm around your shoulders. “ I paid the bail and I'm taking my family home.”

Leon just gestured for the door and said nothing. Senator Armstrong ushered you out, but not before you took one final look back at Leon with fresh tears in your eyes.

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You were sitting in the Armstrongs’ tinted limousine Patrick’s head on your lap. You couldn’t help but stroke his soft hair. He buried his face in the fabric of your dress and groaned.

“I can’t believe that asshole through me into the cell with all those actual criminals. It was miserable, sobering up in that shithole.”

You rolled your eyes instinctively, Leon’s words ringing in your ears still. “What if he did lose his temper and couldn’t stop hitting me?” You shrugged it off. It was just one bad moment, he’ll change.

Your future father in Law just glared daggers into his son.

When you arrived at your home, you still patted Patrick’s head gently. “I’ll see you later honey.”

He quickly leaned up and kissed you on the mouth for the first time. It was sloppy and full of want. It wasn’t sweet at all and you felt sick.

You quickly got out of the car and ran into the house.

When you arrived in the foyer, Hank was waiting for you.

“Is that bastard out there?” He asked angrily.

You looked down at your feet, you thought you’d at least be able to sleep and take a bath before being interrogated about the incident earlier.

You heard your mom shout from the kitchen. “Is my baby home? Hank you leave your sister alone! She needs to rest.” Your mother hurried in to welcome you.

“Oh sweetie, there’s no need to cry.” She wiped your tears with a cloth she had in her apron. “Daddy and I get into arguments all the time.”

Hank got even angrier. “You know damn well that was no argument they had, Thomas Wells said that son of a bitch shook her like a ragdoll before Deputy Kennedy got to them.”

Your Mama just rolled her eyes. “Thomas Wells is a known exaggerator, people love talking about people who they’re jealous of. Speaking of Y/N, you’re not going back to that job. It doesn’t look respectable to have the future Mrs. Armstrong working at that office.”

Your mother grabbed your arm gently and took you into the dining room and fixed your dinner. She hadn’t done this since you were a child, she was definitely trying to get on your good side.

You felt that familiar pit of disappointment and anguish in your stomach. You had realized Mama really did want to be a part of the social class as the Armstrongs. She wanted it so bad she was willing to cover up what Patrick was willing to do to you.

You nibbled on supper and went upstairs to cry, you were exhausted.

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You couldn’t sleep that night. All you could do was replay the day’s events over and over in your mind.

You also felt extremely violated by Patrick’s lack of respect for you.

When daybreak came, you took a light catnap for an hour or two. You were awoken by your mother shaking you awake.

“Y/N, sweetie, time to wake up.”

You squinted at her through your dark eyelashes, confused.

“Don’t give that look, Y/N, Suzanne Armstrong called and wanted to take you shopping.”

You lurched up from your bed. “Miss Suzanne...why?”

“She wants to make sure you look polished for the engagement party of course. The local and state newspapers will be covering it of course.” Your mother said excitedly. “Hopefully she’ll remember your mama too, I could get one of those tweed suits just like the first lady! Wouldn’t that be fun?”

You smiled a sad smile. You wanted to see your mama happy, but was she willing to do the same for you?

You got up and began your morning ritual, you made sure your dress was crisply ironed and you even added a ribbon in your hair to make yourself look a little more stylish.

You waited patiently in the sitting room before seeing the car roll up. Your mother ushered you out the door and into the awaiting town car, driven by a chauffeur of course. He opened the door for you. Inside awaiting looking prim as ever, was Miss Suzanne in a pastel-colored suit.

“Well look at this little doll,” she said and kissed your cheeks. “I just can not wait for you to marry my son. You two are just going to give me and your mama the cutest little grandbabies.”

You smiled uncomfortably.

The town car started to pull away into town and Miss Suzanne wasted no time discussing future plans with you.

“So, I’ve already contacted all the news outlets. The Atlanta Sentinel is sending reporters to this party and even LIFE Magazine!” She squealed excitedly.

“They love the Cinderella feel of this story, my dear. Everyone loves a great love story.” She composed herself again. “and it is my job as fairy godmother, to make sure you ARE the belle of the ball. There are going to be a lot of eyes and I want to make sure you look perfect.”

She looked you up and down. “We’ll have to do away with this wardrobe,” she motioned with her pointer finger to your homemade dress.

The car was heading out of town, you made a comment about going to the local department store in town.

Miss Suzanne let out a full-bodied laugh. “My dear, we’re going to Atlanta to shop. You can’t be photographed in some outfit from Belford’s.”

You just fell silent and looked out the window as Miss Suzanne rambled on about how excited she was, planning a wedding, and how much great press it would be for her husband and Patrick.

When they finally arrived at the fancy boutique in midtown Atlanta, they were greeted by staff in crisp uniforms waiting outside for their arrival.

The head designer, or who you assumed was the head designer came blowing through the doors and came to greet your future mother-in-law.

“My dear, thank you for coming, let me grab your coat.” He grabbed Suzanne’s expensive tweed jacket and hat. He handed it to a dour-looking assistant.

He then acknowledged you.

“My, my who is this diamond in the rough?”

Suzanne answered for you. “A diamond in the rough indeed. This is my future daughter in Law, Y/N.”

You didn’t know whether to curtsy or not. You gently bent your knees and answered with a quiet “hello.”

“My goodness, she is just precious! We certainly have our work cut out for us.” The man snickered.

Being brought up in the south, you knew being called precious wasn’t a compliment.

You sighed as you followed the man and Suzanne into the boutique knowing it was going to be a long day.

#resident evil #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #tw: violence #TW: domestic violence #tw: alcholism #tw: alcohol #tw: unsafe alcohol use #resident evil Alternate Universe #Patrick infinite Darkness

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dujour13 · 9 months

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During my little holiday I wanted to get back in touch with my main muses and wrote some Act I stuff, just messing around with a different kind of pacing. I might insert it into L&C but it would take some retrofitting so just throwing it out here while I decide.

Warning - it's long, 2000 words under the cut. No one is under any obligation to read this 😂

Cross-legged on his narrow bed in the Defender’s Heart, using his flipped-over guitar as a writing desk, Siavash sat staring into the distance. The last few dozen letters he’d written to Kristov had ended up in the fireplace instead of the post, tearstained and torn up for shame. He didn’t even know how to open this one. “Dear Kristov” was too cold, “My dearest” worse, and no diplomatic training could prepare him for how to break terrible news to an ex he was supposed to be over. Tears of grief, frustration and no small measure of self-pity burned his eyes as he restarted for the third time.

He pressed his thumbs to his eyes and asked himself once again whether he really needed to write personally, knowing even as he did that there was no getting out of it. The Ambassador’s attaché had been a good friend to both of them; surely letting Kristov find out about her death without a word from him would be cruel. Yet every time he set pen to parchment he caught himself wanting to spill his whole heart.

I don’t understand why everyone’s dead and I’m not. I’m wounded and it won’t heal. Demons have besieged the city. It’s cold in Mendev and all they drink is terrible beer. I’m alone. I’m scared.

I miss you.

Maybe what he really missed was someone intimate enough to complain to. It had been two years since they separated and it wouldn’t be fair to put all this on Kristov. He needed to fight the urge to write things that would hurt or upset him, just as he had when writing to his own family about his wonderful adventures in Mendev.

For someone with no shortage of friends and even less difficulty making them, it was surprising how empty he could feel at times, especially haunted by the faces of his friends and colleagues who had died in the demon attack. What a merry band of Andorens they would all have made, leading the city defense like itinerant heroes, bonding over the bad beer and the glaring example Daeran made of the dangers of nepotism. And oh, how he would be fawned over with his strange (and still quite painful) wound.

Instead, the awful task fell to him to write letters to their friends and families bearing tidings that would destroy them. And here he was, still alive for no good reason.

Hovering, his pen let a black drop spill onto “My dearest.”

Stupid. He was over Kristov, as much as could be expected. It was just a childish need to be felt sorry for. He gave himself a wan, condescending smile. Just write the damn letter, play a sad song, cry a little and buck up. There are things to do.

Just when he had it under control, the Count walked right into his room and tossed his coat on the other bed like it was his own. “Weeping again?”

“Lamenting what’s become of the last of Mendev’s great families,” he returned with a brittle smile, shoving the parchment aside. “That bed’s occupied. You’re just helping yourself to it?”

“I am indeed moving in. Don’t take it personally; I’ve rather had my fill of sappy Desnans.” He patted his stomach and grimaced as if he’d overdone it on the sweet rolls. “In fact, what would it take to get you to push the beds together and clear out? Your former roommate went for six months’ salary. He’s sleeping on the floor in the common room for that and the dignity of the realm, so that my precious person should not suffer calumny.”

“I thought heaping calumny on your family name was your favorite pastime,” said Siavash. “Anyway no luck, Daeran. I’m wounded. I’m keeping my bed.”

The Count gave an annoyed sigh. “Fine. Well, I suppose one learns to make do in a siege. Go ahead and push the beds together, if you’re so keen.”

“You’ll have to find someone else in need of a couple months’ salary I’m afraid. You know, the more you open your mouth the more you reinforce my opinions on hereditary wealth.” Siavash grabbed his guitar and headed for the stairs in search of more agreeable company.

“Opinions we happen to share,” laughed Daeran behind him.

As he padded down to the common room in his stocking feet he was only half aware that he was seeking a certain charcoal-blue face in the crowd, someone he was sure could cheer him up.

There he was—the tiefling Woljif, chatting animatedly with Father Rathimus in the corner. Selling the priest something at a siege mark-up, no doubt. But just as Siavash headed that direction, Seelah beckoned loudly from the bar. “Hey, if it isn’t the best bard in the house.”

“And the worst,” he winked. He glanced again at the tiefling across the room, who quickly shifted his gaze away when their eyes met, but not without a spontaneous brightening of the smile he was putting to work on the priest.

“Need something to grease the wheels before you get started?” Seelah signaled the bartender.

He hesitated. Not only did he balk at the beer, he would rather trade tall tales with Woljif than play a set, although the tiefling seemed occupied anyway. Still, Seelah’s grin was hard to resist. “Sure, thanks.”

She passed him a mug. “Boy am I glad some god or other tossed a bard into the mix. Gotta keep morale up for another couple days until we can mop up the Gray Garrison.”

“I’m not sure I feel so lucky,” he chuckled, forcing down a mouthful. “Glad I can do my humble part though.”

“Ha, you mean besides brandishing an angelic sword at the head of the heroic city defense?”

“Come on, all I’ve been doing is aiming everybody else in the right direction and shouting encouragement from behind you.”

Seelah winked. “Got news for you. That’s what leaders do.”

“Hey chief, you gonna play a tune?” He hadn’t even seen the tiefling make his way over to the bar but there he was, wearing a surprisingly unguarded expression, tail flicking eagerly.

“I was thinking about it,” Siavash said, suddenly much more interested in playing than he’d been a few minutes ago. “Looks like this crowd could use some cheering up.”

“You oughtta charge,” Woljif said. The shifty, calculating look was suddenly back. “Or at least pass the hat around afterwards.”

Siavash laughed. The man was a paradox. At times undisguised innocence, like looking forward to a little music or demanding an apology from Sister Kerismei, and at other times three steps ahead of everyone devising a scheme to lighten someone’s purse. “With a captive audience that’s likely to damage my popularity,” he said. “Unless I pledge the coin to a charity reconstruction fund or something.”

The tiefling’s eyes lit up. “Hells, you’re good at this, chief. Sit tight, I’ll find you a hat.”

He settled on an empty mug instead of a hat. After the first set Siavash saw him making the rounds and decided not to say anything about it, just to see where it was headed. Thus as he sat with Seelah choking down another beer he was surprised when Woljif came back and threw a leg over the bench next to him, carefully pouring the jingling contents of the mug onto the table and sweeping the coins together with both hands, eyes glittering.

“Whaddaya say, chief? Good catch. So I was thinkin’, I’ll set aside fifty percent for the charity and cut you in ten.”

“And the other forty?” he asked out of curiosity, just to see what the tiefling would say.

“Overhead.” Woljif waved a dismissive hand.

“Where are you planning on setting aside the charity money? Under the floorboards?”

“Nah, I’ll invest it. Great opportunities with the city in this condition.” And Woljif proceeded to explain how fresh food transport was currently at a standstill except for a few more intrepid ox-drivers—by which he meant smugglers—who could be prevailed upon to make the risky journey given a sufficient injection of capital.

Siavash listened rapt. Woljif seemed to “know a guy who knew a guy” for just about anything and could turn a profit on a minimum of risk all while getting desperately needed food into the city center.

Not to mention the way the corner of his mouth curled appealingly in a conspiratorial smile, and the way his eyes shone excitedly in the lamplight as he talked. Although some might see in his yellow irises the touch of the Abyss, Siavash saw only a golden gleam of intelligence and that occasional surprising softness. Hope. An eagerness he kept forgetting to hide.

Which in turn brought out Siavash’s most reassuring manner, his gentle yet soul-penetrating smile that said What is good in you is safe with me. And what isn’t strictly good too. He watched him count out the coins, sorting them into small stacks, and wondered if he’d already pocketed a handful or two of “overhead,” but also, interestingly, whether this “investment” could actually help keep the halted economy of the city alive until the demons could be chased out.

Just one detail. “Sounds good. Except I think ten is a little low for doing all the heavy lifting.”

Woljif looked up from his stacks of coins and searched his gaze, eyes narrowing slightly.

“All right, chief. Twenty-five, that suit you?”

“That’ll do. In fact, I’ll tell you what—keep it and invest it for me.”

There was that look again: clear-eyed and hopeful. “You can count on me, chief. I’ll double it for you.”

“You’re trying to pull a profit in a city under siege?” Seelah huffed, knocking her mug on the table with a frown.

Something in Woljif’s gaze shut down. He leaned back and sighed.

“We need food, Woljif needs money,” shrugged Siavash. “Sounds like a win-win to me.”

Woljif blinked at him.

“Are you serious?” Seelah echoed the look but for a different reason.

“Yes, and I think you should invest too.”

She glanced back and forth at the two of them. “You know what? Fine. I’m gonna trust you on this one. Don’t make me regret it.” And she placed a handful of coins on the table, which Woljif quickly swept into his stack.

This time when his and Siavash’s eyes met they were both on the verge of bursting out laughing.

Siavash helped himself to a couple coppers. “Let me get you a drink, Woljif.”

“Uh—sure.” Woljif watched the coin disappear and this time he really did laugh. “Tea, lots a’ honey.”

As he headed for the bar, Woljif caught himself eyeing the chief—not for the first time—and wondering if he could actually have found the real deal, the business partner of his dreams.

Yet even if so, Desnans didn’t tend to linger in one place for long. The chief had hinted to Seelah he might stay on a bit and see through whatever mission the Andoren government had sent him on here, but he’d be off to Andoran again soon enough and that would be the end of it. Or would it? Maybe that was even better! An excuse to head south to warmer climes. His ticket out of here on a whole other level.

But of course, it was only a matter of time before the partnership went south, and not in the geographical sense. On the other hand by then maybe Woljif would be set up—a tidy investment fund and a few connections around Inner Sea ports from Augustana to Merab, some new business partners on the horizon.

Or… maybe… maybe it wouldn’t go sour. That was supposed to be possible, like in the ballads or the storybooks. Sure would be nice. He could get used to that smile, that music, the nice way the chief listened and didn’t interrupt.

Hells. Last time he thought he had himself an actual, well, business partner, reality had punched him in the mouth. Literally. Repeatedly.

He decided he’d have to keep a close eye on the chief, figure out his angle. See how the pieces fit together: the bardic charm, the angelic sword, the Desnan visions, the sensible approach to morality. And not get his hopes up.

The moment the chief turned his way with the tea Woljif realized he was staring, and whatever expression he was wearing it earned him the most dazzling smile he thought he’d ever seen in his whole life.

#pathfinder: wrath of the righteous #pwotr pals #siavash #siavash x woljif #woljif jefto #fanfic #my writing #kind of clinging protectively to my boys rn #keeping bg3 and work away from them

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dysthanasia-series · 5 months

Text

Phagophobia Pt. 20

Word Count: 1,701

Summary: It's rushed and not quite right, but I guess that's why they call it a rough draft.

This will serve as the ending to Phagophobia for now. What can you expect from here? I've started on an actual outline for the rewrite, so keep an eye out for posts of that as I go along. As for actual new chapters showing up, I'm estimating six months out? In the meantime, there should be some bonus stories and more detailed field guides for Coven agents to look forward to.

Whether you've been following this story from the beginning or came upon it recently, know that I appreciate the heck out of you. Seeing others get excited over the characters or show interest in bits of lore, as rough as this project is at the moment, helps keep me going.

Like Isaac, we still have a long road ahead of us but we'll keep working toward a brighter future. Together.

Content Advisory: Awkwardly witnessing an argument between exes, alcohol mention

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It was the longest walk he’d ever endured. The only mercy was Dimas staying a couple paces ahead so they didn’t have to speak. Luckily, whatever message Dimas had received on his tab proved accurate. An elegant, familiar model of black car sat in the shoulder of the main road with its hazard lights blinking. The driver side door popped open. A blonde person tall enough to comfortably lean one elbow on the roof watched their arduous approach. Black lipstick made it easy to track the smile growing across the stranger’s pale face.

“Well. You boys look like hell, but I have to say you smell delicious.” Vestiges of a drawl closely related to Kinslayer’s softened the edges of each word.

“Before you even try, Mergus already said no to eating anyone.” Renato reached for the handle of the front passenger door.

The driver snapped their fingers and glared at him. “You get in the back. Your boy-toy can sit shotgun. I’m sure we’ll have plenty to chit-chat about.”

“He’s not—”

Trademark bloodborn fangs appeared in the newcomer’s glossy goth smile as they turned to Isaac. “Did he stab you yet? Shove you off a building? Although I guess it’s still pretty early in the relationship for that, isn’t it?”

“You’ll have to excuse Oleander,” Dimas cut in. “She’s still bitter over me being happier with a goldfish than I ever was with her. And, apparently, because I shot her once just to kill someone about to stake her in the back.”

“Oh, so the whole shoving me from three floors up thing was just for funsies. Glad we cleared the air.”

A wave of nostalgia for riding to his death with Quinn and Zamora washed over Isaac. He sighed and gingerly slid into the front seat. The squabbling bloodborn followed suit shortly after. Thankfully, the crushing percussion, wailing guitars, and guttural lyrics that blared from the sound system saved them all from further conversation as Oleander flipped the car into an illegal u-turn and sped back toward the city.

When Isaac snorted awake again they’d parked in front of the clocktower. Oleander unclipped her seatbelt, but Dimas interrupted.

“Don’t bother. We won’t be more than fifteen minutes.”

“Hm. Awfully quick turnaround for both of you washing up and packing. Or are you going to scrub each other’s backs in the shower to save time?”

“We’ll have to stop somewhere before dawn anyway. We can clean up then. For now, we’re just grabbing a couple of bags.”

“Yeah, right. More like grabbing each other’s—”

“Ollie, wait in the fucking car, all right? Please?”

She twisted around to pin him with a basilisk-grade glare while Isaac pretended to be part of his seat. From the corner of his eye, he watched her reach out, wipe or scrape a sample of blood off of Dimas’s cheek, then stick that finger into her mouth. Whatever she tasted made her snort and turn back around.

“Fine, whatever. One second over fifteen minutes, though, and I’m leaving your asses behind. You can explain to Mergus why you’re running late.”

Isaac followed Dimas’s lead in exiting without comment. It wasn’t until they’d passed through the revolving glass door and into the privacy of the elevator that the wall of silence between them crumbled.

“Ollie will rip your throat out just to spite me,” Dimas blurted as they passed the seventh floor. “Don’t get caught alone with her.”

Isaac flinched as he reached into his pocket, cuts on his fingers and bitemark on his arm throbbing. “Would you rescue me if I did?”

In the shiny brass-plated doors Dimas’s reflection twisted like he’d swallowed something slimy and still wriggling. “I think we both know the answer to that already.”

The lines of his face relaxed, though, when Isaac nudged his arm. Dimas looked down to see his folding knife and rosary being offered back to him. He reached for them. Logically, Isaac recognized his cue to let go. Instead, he held on, their fingers a hair’s breadth away from touching. Dimas’s expression thawed fully as their stares met. He took a breath, lips parting.

A shuddering stop and cheerful ding announced their arrival. Isaac’s hand jumped away like it’d been stung. He fled the elevator the moment the doors opened.

And ran straight into another conversation he wasn’t ready to have.

“Oh, you were right!” Dorian told Kinslayer from where the two of them sat side by side on the loveseat. “They’re home. And they look terrible. Please tell me most of that blood isn’t yours.”

Kinslayer polished off the last of Dimas’s vodka before slamming the bottle down on the coffee table. They pushed themself onto their feet and flung their arms wide, grinning. “My favorite cousin and bookworm! How good to see you, alive and in one piece even.”

Renato lifted his eyebrows at Dorian. “You let them in?”

“She had the elevator code and seemed to know both of you.” They folded their arms across their belly. “Plus, I had no idea when…if…you’d be back. Ott made for good company while we waited. Even if she did drink all the vodka.”

“Aw, I’ll make it up to you, freckles. I’ll bring you some moonshine good enough to open up your third eye, even if it’ll be seeing double the whole time.”

“Or some mimosas and a big breakfast to keep it sleepy and closed instead?”

“Ain’t as fun, but sure, suit yourself.”

“As much as I’d love to stay and chat,” Renato interrupted, “Agent Soto and I on a tight schedule. We’ll explain later, but Ki—Ott. May I ask another favor of you?”

“You know you can, cousin.”

“Help me protect Dorian. They’ll be following Soto and me north but need to stay out of sight. Between the two of you I’m sure you can more than manage.”

Kinslayer glanced over at Dorian. “How about it, freckles? Mind if I tag along?”

“Not at all. I’m doing the driving tomorrow, though.”

“Not much of a plan, but it will have to do for now.” Shoulders slumped, Renato rubbed his hands over his face. A crimson snowfall of dried blood drifted to the floor. “I’m going to pack a couple of bags and then we’re off. I’ll contact you both as soon as I can.”

Then he disappeared up the stairs, leaving Isaac with the other vampire who’d almost-but-not-quite eaten him. At his own insistence maybe, but still.

“Bookworm,” they said.

He kept his eyes on their sand-sprinkled hiking boots, but his body was already rooted to the spot. “Uh. Hi.”

The boots went into motion, headed right for him. Isaac’s palpitating heart plugged up the back of his throat. He knew, somehow, that Kinslayer wouldn’t hurt him. They weren’t the one he couldn’t trust.

Kinslayer’s next step stumbled. Another spike in his pulse spurred Isaac out of his silent panic. He helped steady them with one hand on a shoulder and the other below their ribs. The smell of brine, liquor, and rain rolled off of them, salty, sharp, and sweet. Their dark shirt stuck to their skin, soaked with something hot and wet. Isaac’s palm came away smeared in red.

“You’re hurt,” he whispered.

“I’ll live,” they replied. “Jury’s still out on you, though. For a squishy little bookworm you sure pick a lot of fights.”

“What happ—”

“Not enough time, like your bloodborn said. It’ll have to wait.”

“Even if you still owe me an answer?” Isaac sucked in a breath when he realized he’d said it out loud. Apparently, it was going to take a while before the filter between his mouth and brain grew back.

Kinslayer let out a low laugh. “Brat. This isn’t a simple transaction anymore.”

Right. When was anything? “What is it then?”

A hand gripped him under the chin, forcing him to look up at last. Their eyes were still as black and lightless as staring into the barrel of a rifle. A wave of warm numbness dissolved the bundles of tension across Isaac’s shoulders. His breathing slowed.

He blinked. Then again in surprise. Isaac put a hand to his chest. His heart continued to beat, relaxed but steady.

“It’ll be what we choose to make of it,” Kinslayer told him. “Together.”

They released his chin and took a step back as footfalls came down the stairs. Dimas, wearing fresh clothes, reappeared with two suitcases probably worth more than Isaac’s entire wardrobe in hand.

“Agent Soto? Ready?”

“Oh. Um, yeah, ready.” He gave the most awkward wave of his life to a beaming Dorian and gulped at the smirking Kinslayer. “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around?”

Getting into the elevator again came as a strange relief, but he took it.

As the lights for the floors counted down, Dimas half unzipped one of the suitcases and pulled out a dark blue shirt with mother-of-pearl buttons.

“Here. You might be a tad wider across the shoulders and narrower in the hips, but it should fit.”

Isaac hesitated. The shirt looked like it might curl up and disintegrate like a rare flower if he so much as breathed on it. Dimas, misinterpreting, mustered a smile that managed to be equal parts annoyed and amused. He turned his back to give Isaac privacy. Or as much as the shiny brass walls would allow anyway.

Shit. Path of least resistance it was. Just this once—he was too tired to explain. Isaac gingerly peeled off his old, blood-saturated shirt and shrugged into the new, fresh one. It wrapped around him, soft and light as the wings of an angel (though, a little snug when he stretched his shoulders, true). He finished buttoning it to the collar before the elevator doors slid open.

Dimas turned around and looked him over. Amusement won total control over his smile. Lightning-quick, he reached out and popped open the top button of the shirt.

“Live a little, Agent Soto,” he said, stepping out into the lobby, luggage in tow. “If nothing else, it will spite everyone who wants us dead.”

Isaac tried to glare, decided it wasn’t worth the energy, and threw his ruined shirt into the trash on the way out.

#dysthanasia #urban fantasy #writeblr #fantasy #vampires

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stardustndreamsofsilver · 1 year

Text

Everything is Temporary

Part Four

Josh x Reader (f)

Warnings: angst, cursing, pregnancy

Find All Parts Here

Six Months Later

A lot had changed in the last six months. After you found out you were pregnant, you were in shock for about a week. But once the shock wore off, the love for your coming little one grew. You moved out of your old one bedroom apartment into a little two bedroom cottage about an hour outside of Nashville. Your job offered you a remote position with a small raise, so you were able to afford the move and able to furnish the baby’s nursery with everything they could possibly need.

You’d thought about telling Josh about the baby, but figured it was best if he didn’t know. Even if he didn't love you, you knew that if you told him, he’d feel obligated to make the three of you a family. You didn’t want that. You didn’t want to be an obligation, you didn’t want your baby to be an obligation. You wanted them to only ever know love. So, you decided he would never know. With that decision, you also blocked him on all social media. Not only to keep him from finding out, but also to keep you from having to see him.

You were called into the main office one day for a meeting, so you drove into Nashville for the day. It’d been awhile since you’d come to town, so you decided to stop by your favorite coffee house. You ordered your favorite drink and a breakfast sandwich and sat by the window. You enjoyed your breakfast and got up to leave. As you leaned over to grab your purse, you heard the door chime as it opened. You straightened back up and faced the doorway. There he was. You stared at Josh in disbelief and he stared at your 37 week pregnant belly.

A million thoughts raced through your mind. When did he get back? Why did he have to be here? Why today? Will he realize this is his baby? Will he try to take the baby from you?

Shaking your head, you rush past him. You needed to get out of there. You got out the door and a few steps down the sidewalk before you heard someone running up behind you.

“Hey! Hey! Where the hell do you think you’re going?” He says, grabbing your arm and stopping you.

You yank your arm back and sigh. “What do you want Josh?”

“Are you serious? I want to know what the hell this is?” He says, gesturing toward your bump.

“It’s none of your concern. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting to go to.”

“Like hell it isn’t! Why didn’t you tell me? It’s mine right?” He asks, searching your face for answers.

“Josh, I really need to go.”

“No. You’re going to tell me what’s going on.” He says, stepping closer to you.

You backed away and said, “Fine, how about this, I’ll meet you for dinner and explain everything. But, I have to go.”

“Where? When?” He asks.

“I’ll meet you at that ramen shop downtown around 6.”

“Alright. Fine. Swear you’ll actually show up and this isn’t a trick so you can go?” He asks.

Scoffing, you say, “I promise. I don’t lie. You’re the one who’s good at that, remember?”

You watched guilt sweep over him, but it didn’t change the facts. Everything had been real for you and it was just a game to him.

“Alright. I’ll see you then.” He says looking down to the ground and sticking his hands in his pockets.

“See you there.” You say as you walk away.

You went to your meeting at the office and everything went smoothly. You decided to catch up on some work while you were there since you had time to kill until dinner with Josh. You dreaded this dinner. You’d finally started to get over him and your life had started to come together. And now it was all coming down around you. Finishing up one last email, you checked the time. It was close to 5 so you decided to go ahead and pack up. As you were riding the elevator down to the ground floor to go meet Josh, you felt a twinge.

Your water broke.

#josh kiszka #josh gvf #joshua michael kiszka #josh greta van fleet #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka fic #josh angst #josh x reader #gvf josh #gvf blurb #gvf imagine #gvf fic #gvf series #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet #greta van angst #greta van fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta fic

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jungkxook · 3 years

Text

—out of the blue. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: youtuber/gamer!jungkook + fluff / smut

⟶ words: 5,204

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: catching your boyfriend bleaching and dyeing his hair for a livestream is definitely not what you expected — but it certainly has its perks.

⟶ warnings: established relationship, some attempt at humour, .2 seconds of sort of sub jungkook (you just like seeing him on his knees), you call jungkook a good boy, shower sex, hair pulling, oral sex, face riding, standing sex, breast play, cum eating, doggy style, unprotected sex, creampie

⟶ note: because blue haired jungkook has me feeling all sorts of things. also dedicating this to the lovely ryen @kithtaehyung because blue haired jungkook is getting her too and i hope this helps!! and thank you to the wonderful @gamerkooks and @stanrandomthings for always giving me inspiration for gamer jungkook <3

“What the hell are you doing?”

Jungkook has less than a second to react when he hears you bursting through the door of his bedroom, a guilty expression plastered on his face as if you’ve caught him in the midst of a much worse act than what he’s already currently doing ━ but the flustered scowl deepening your countenance is enough for him to certainly feel that way, because how else is he supposed to casually explain why he’s currently sitting shirtless in front of a camera?

Admittedly, the sight is odd enough, and there’s a split moment where your incredulous look is enough to make him feel as if he’s wronged you, and your six month long relationship with him, entirely before he remembers that he didn’t actually do anything wrong like cheat on you, but is actually just trying to dye his hair.

He’s sat in his gaming chair, camera and lights set up around him, and the monitor of his desktop all recording his face to the hundreds of thousands of viewers currently watching his livestream. He had told you well in advance about his aim to do a twenty-four hour live broadcast for his subscribers to both raise money for a donation and to countdown to his next subscriber milestone with the help of his friends ━ and had even asked you to help him plan the event, discussing it animatedly with you for the past month on various occasions ━ but mainly just because Jungkook is crazy enough to sit through a twenty-four hour stream and call it fun.

You had known most of how the entirety of the day would go. Starting from noon the previous day to now, almost an hour before the stream ends, thus far he’s done various gameplays from Minecraft to Overwatch to Among Us simultaneously with his friends who had offered to marathon with him the twenty-four hour event; had a period of time in which Jimin and Taehyung were over and cramped in his room to answer questions and talk to viewers but mostly just to create absolute chaos. You had been there for most of it, though you’re still trying to figure out if it’s a blessing or a curse that you were suckered into paying rent for your three bedroom apartment by Taehyung more than a year ago, and subsequently falling madly in love with Jungkook and forcing you to aid in his antics. You’ve been in a handful of his videos before, appearing in Twitch and YouTube streams, and in the background of vlogs in his channel and the channels belonging to the other boys; and, on that day for Jungkook’s twenty-four hour event, you had joined him at the start before being dragged away for work and then tried to pull an all-nighter with him until you crashed on the couch in the living room, and checking in on him occasionally to give him food and water and to just generally make sure your boyfriend isn’t dead.

Now, with the remaining final hour dwindling down, you had been in your room trying to finish last minute essay writing for school, with your phone propped up on your desk and Jungkook’s livestream playing as background noise to your studying. One minute, he had been playing a round of Among Us, and the next, when you had glanced up, he had the bottle in hand and the detrimental blue dye coating his hair in slick globs. It wouldn’t have been so shocking, had you not seen Jungkook an hour ago when he had his natural dark hair still, and now he had somehow managed to sneak in bleaching his hair in the time you had left him. Maybe it was your fault for not catching it sooner, if only because you had sheepishly taken a small nap amidst your studying only to wake up to a nightmare.

Which is where that leaves you currently, dishevelled demeanour standing at the threshold of his door after chasing over to his room, watching as Taehyung helps Jungkook sufficiently ruin his beautiful hair which you love so much.

“Uh… Dyeing my hair?” Jungkook finally answers, dumbfounded. He’s fortunate he had pulled off his shirt to avoid getting hair dye on it, an old towel now draped around his shoulders to catch any excess mess. He adds brightly, “We asked for suggestions on how to end the stream and someone said I should dye my hair, so Tae got the stuff.”

“You bleached your own hair?” You retort, exasperated. “When the hell did all this happen? I’ve been next door to you the whole time! What if your hair falls out? You should’ve gotten a professional to do it, not Tae━”

Taehyung looks inexplicably offended by your slandering remarks on his (lack of) hair styling skills, retorting with, “Yo, what the━?”

Jungkook blinks, as if just being made aware of what he’s actually doing.

“My hair’s gonna fall out?” he gaps. “Guys, what the hell? Why’d no one tell me?”

He looks from you to Taehyung then over at the comments on his livestream which are currently flooding with the sole topic of you. His eyes snag the first few that appear to him in the frenzied influx of words:

uh oh jungkook’s sleeping on the floor tonight

oh shit run bro

f in the chat for jk’s hair

get him y/n!!!!

“Dude, she’s just being dramatic,” Taehyung waves you off. He ducks out of the way when you reach out to Jungkook’s bed for a pillow and chuck it at the older boy’s head.

“And when he’s bald, then what━”

“No!” A helpless Jungkook exclaims suddenly. He gestures wildly to the stream, “Don’t give them ideas. The edits are gonna start pouring in.”

“Jeon, look, it’s too late to go back now,” Taehyung says. “You’ve got half your head covered in dye and three minutes to go with the stream. How bad can it be?”

A groveling sigh eclipses your lips as you push yourself forward. “Then at least let me help before you ruin it completely.”

Jungkook’s fortunate, to say the least, though he’s left wondering if you’re truly upset with him.

He finishes the countdown to the end of his twenty-four hour stream with you and Taehyung putting the last remaining globs of dye on his hair, a heartfelt goodbye to his viewers who marathoned the stream with him, and a promise to update them on the status of his hair when he washes the dye out.

And, just as soon as he’s shut his camera off, the mundane world returns to him.

It’s no longer millions of anonymous and faceless viewers watching him from the other side of their screens in the tiny bubble that is his room, but just you and Taehyung and the older boy’s frisky little Pomeranian dog and the threat of a wallowing regret as Jungkook thinks to himself, what the hell did he truly just do to his hair?

At some point, Taehyung retreats to his girlfriend’s house taking Yeontan with him, leaving you alone with Jungkook and he basks in the sudden cozy quiet after twenty-four hours of madness as the adrenaline rush begins to fade and mellow out. Back aching, joints cracking and popping as he stretches and moves, and eyes burning in the similar way they do from having stared at a screen for too long, but tenfold, he craves nothing more than to find your sweet and comforting touch to end such a long day.

He finds you in the living room already scrolling through your phone and your Twitter feed to read and marvel at all the comments and memes made by his viewers during his stream and his heart threatens to burst through his chest because you’ve always been so supportive of him and his fans, and they’ve always adored you and your endless interactions with them. So, surely, you can’t be mad at him for bleaching and dyeing his hair. Right?

As his arms come to wrap around you from behind, face nuzzling in the crook of your neck, he hears you bemoan, “You look like a Smurf came on your head.”

Wrong.

Well, not entirely, he guesses. You do lean into his chest, practically melting against him. A sluggish grin tugs at his lips and, instead, he chooses to ask, “Shower with me?”

“Aren’t you tired, Koo?”

“Baby,” he deadpans, and your heart flutters just a little bit, “by this point, I’m running solely on Red Bull and coffee that I’m positive I could fight the gods with my bare hands and win. In fact, I’ve had so much caffeine that I’m fairly certain I’ve ascended to the astral plane. Besides, I need to wash this dye out, and I could use some help. Sleep can wait.”

“Help,” You snort. “You’re such a liar. I already know what you want.”

“To spend time with my beautiful girlfriend? You’re right.”

“I’m not sucking your dick.”

He pulls his head back to look at you. Though he tries to look offended, there’s the tiniest of smirks on his face. “Wasn’t gonna ask you!”

You turn to properly face him in his arms and shoot him a dubious glance. He leans down to press a chilling kiss to your jaw, then nudges his nose against you in the same spot so that you’ll move your head. You do so, despite your prior scolding, and let him kiss the underside of your jaw down to your neck.

“Okay, fine,” You huff finally.

You relent, miraculously, but Jungkook had already guessed you would the moment he had found you in the living room and he couldn’t be happier.

He cherishes the moments alone with you, has come to know them well as he falls into a comfortable routine with you away from prying eyes over the last few months. Because sometimes, as he comes to learn, it’s hard to establish a relationship when his job requires him to be in the spotlight often. What is authentic and what is simply fabricated for views is difficult to discern, and yet you’re patient with him. Not everything to him is money and views and numbers, or what his next big plan is, or how you could potentially help him in some way (despite knowing that any video featuring you seems to skyrocket his views and land his videos on the trending page of YouTube more often than not because he knows everyone loves you more than him). You know when he’s his online persona and when he’s simply just Jungkook, and while there’s hardly any difference between the two, his online personality surely has to maintain a level of privacy and happiness that may not always be true.

At least with you, he can just be himself. He can finally be at ease.

Showering together is just one of the many acts of normalcy he cherishes with you. So, he turns on the shower and lets the bathroom get all warm and balmy as you undress. He’s the first one inside, hissing in delight as he lets the water run over his sore muscles, washing out the dye in his hair firstly so as not to get it on you and fortunately not making too much of a mess of blue dye in the tub. You’ve joined him in an instant when he’s nearly done, squeezing into the space in front of him as you shut the glass door behind you, the pane already beginning to fog and slick with droplets of condensation. He pulls you into him once more, nestling his chin on your shoulder as his hands come to wrap around you. They slide across your front, all wet and soapy, briefly gliding across your breasts, palms brushing against your nipples before traveling down to your navel.

“Congrats, baby,” You coo gently. “Twenty-four hours.”

He murmurs into your hair, “Missed you loads though.”

You turn to look at him finally, and it’s hard not to stare. Your eyes land firstly on his abdomen and the toned muscles there, trailing up to his arm and the pretty tattoos that decorate every inch of his skin, to his soft pink lips and his big eyes. Then, there’s the matter of his hair. The water has done most of the work in washing out the dye from his hair, now falling across his forehead and into his eyes and cheekbones, and it’s only then that you fully register the dye has worked as you struggle to find any remnants of his once-ebony-then-blonde locks. The blue hair is an obvious stark contrast to his natural hair and, you think, it is pretty, accentuating his radiant skin and making his eyes pop.

“I didn’t think you were actually serious all those times you said you wanted to change your hair.” Your lips are pursed as you survey him now, your fingers twirling a strand of his tresses around and around as you inspect it.

He smiles, catching your hand and pressing a quick peck to your knuckles. “Neither did I,” he admits sheepishly. “It sort of just happened.”

You pout. “I’m gonna miss your natural hair.”

“Do you really hate it blue?”

“I don’t hate it. Was more scared you’d ruin your pretty hair and make it all fall out.”

At this, Jungkook flashes you a cheeky smile. He holds his head a little higher. “So you still think my hair is pretty?”

“I think you’re a dork,” You clarify. “And, aside from the fact you almost gave me a heart attack, I’d say the blue is so pretty. Beyond pretty. Kinda hot, if I’m being honest.”

Because you’re not really mad, but it’s fun just to tease Jungkook and see his reactions. At the very least, he can sense this, as it’s apparent with the way his smile stretches even wider on his face.

“Hot, huh?”

“Mhm. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

He feigns a look of mock hurt. “Oh no. You must be really mad. Want me to make it up to you?”

“How are you gonna do that?”

“Well, what do you want from me?”

You take a moment to think it over, but the answer is already obvious enough. It’s one that even he knows, and one that has won you over the moment Jungkook was freed from his stream. You hum aloud, “You, on your knees, head between my legs, like a good boy. Think I can get a better viewpoint of your hair from down there anyway before I judge it.”

“Like a good boy?” A dark smirk tugs at his face. “So now who’s the needy one?”

He lowers his head so that he’s leaving a trail of sloppy wet kisses down your neck to your collarbones. As you let yourself get carried away for a moment, you wrap your arm around his neck, pulling him backwards until you’re pressed up against the glass door. He ducks even lower, kissing just above your left breast and then catching your nipple between his teeth. You swallow thickly, rubbing your thighs together, reminding yourself to respond to him.

“It’s not my fault when you were busy for the past day,” You pout. “And the blue hair really is sexy.”

“Aha!” he straightens up in front of you suddenly, a crooked smug smile on his face. “So I’m not just hot. I’m sexy.”

“You’re literally always sexy. And beautiful too. It’s almost unfair.”

“That’s even better.”

You tug your fingers at his damp locks. When you speak, your voice is a mix between urgency and a whine. “Jungkook. I could’ve already gotten off with my hand at this point.”

“Ouch, feisty!” He pokes his fingers at your sides. Then, nipping a little more firmly on the soft skin of your breast, murmurs huskily, “Alright, alright. But only if you call me a good boy again.”

Part of him is taunting you, but there’s a small sliver of intrigue that makes the thought in his head and the pretty words on your tongue excite him to no end.

Still, you choose to entertain him, maybe a little drowsily and entirely consumed by him, “I will if you let me ride your face.”

A rumble of a chuckle resonates from him. You find him on his knees in the next moment, wedging himself between your thighs. He nudges one of your legs and you follow the wordless command, hitching one thigh over his shoulder as you settle back against the glass door of the shower. He kisses at your hips as he dips his head lower and lower to where you want him, before swiping his tongue at your cunt, tasting all of you at once.

“Mmm, Koo━” A soft whimper sounds from you, making his head swim.

He wastes no time in lapping at your folds, tongue delving into you deeper and deeper as he cranes his neck. The wetness that pools between your legs and on the tip of his tongue is a sticky mess that he basks in just a little longer.

“Fuck,” he groans into your pussy, “you taste so fucking good. Missed this so much.”

His hands are big as they come to hold you close, cradling your ass, your thighs, your hips, anything to pull you into him while simultaneously pushing your thighs further apart.

You manage to find your voice and quip weakly, “Missed me or having your head between my legs?”

“You, definitely,” he murmurs. He busies himself by reaching out with his thumb to press circles against your clit. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, hips rutting into his face. “All of you.”

“Jungkook━ Fuck━”

He burrows further into you, humming in response. His nose brushes against your clit, the muscle of his tongue a pleasant wet that makes you warm all over. You give another experimental swivel of your hips, grinding against his tongue just right. He pinches at your hips as if to probe you onward, and then you do it again, and again, desperately rocking your hips back and forth against him. Your fingers reach out to grab a fistful of his hair, clutching it so tightly he hisses. But you’re right. The blue locks look dazzling between your legs, being pulled by your hands as you push him further into you.

His eyes meet yours from below your waist, hooded and idle, enjoying the view as you squirm and writhe above him, shamelessly riding his face. Grinding against his chin, nose, and tongue, the slick wetness you leave behind glistens on his skin.

“Ah, Koo━” You cry out. “Fuck, I’m gonna━!”

Your orgasm hits you violently, sending you keeling. Your hips continue with reckless abandon, and Jungkook presses his finger against your clit a little harder, a little faster. The abrupt gushing warmth between your thighs sends your mind spinning, as the steam from the shower and your panting breaths begin to fog the bathroom. When your hips begin to slow, Jungkook laps at the rest of your leaking core before pulling away with a grin brandishing his shimmering face. He lets you pull him up eagerly, clumsy hands fumbling to hold either side of his face as you tug at him.

“God, you’re so hot, babe,” he sighs wistfully, smothering your lips with his for an all too chaste kiss, before leaning in once more to nibble at your lower lip.

“Wanna feel you, Koo,” You prompt urgently. “Want you in me.”

Jungkook hastens to comply, his hands falling to your waist. “Go on, then. Turn around for me.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You spin so that you’re facing the glass sliding door, your back to him. You watch him over your shoulder, momentarily admiring his well built stature, the tattoos that ink his body, and the water that shimmers on his skin. He has to push his wet hair up and away when it falls across his forehead and then he reaches down to grasp at his length, grip tight around his shaft so that he can pump himself sluggishly a few short times. It’s almost painful to watch him jerk himself off in front of you, the tip a burning red and glistening. He catches you staring and decides to catch you off guard when he grabs a hold of your hips with one hand. He yanks you towards him, your ass pressed firmly against his hips, making you jump from the startle, and grins when you look back at him.

Then, ever so slowly, he runs the length of his cock along your folds. Before you can brace yourself for the overwhelming rush of pleasure, he’s sliding his cock past your folds, burrowing into you deep. He curses behind you, his other hand flying out to steady himself by digging into your hip.

“Fffuck. Shit.” He dips his head so that his cheek is resting against your shoulder and sputters for air. “Jesus, fuck━ Been dying to feel you all day.”

He fits so snugly in you, so perfectly, just like always and you take him so well, coaxed by your own arousal. He ruts his hips forward into yours and you nearly fall forward before catching yourself by pressing your palms to the glass. Then, he’s grinding against you, small and precise thrusts that roll into your hips.

“Mmm, Jungkook,” you choke out. “You feel so━ So good.”

“Ah, shit,” he hisses. “Wanna wreck you so bad.”

He angles his chest a little more, pummels his dick into you in such a way that he’s hitting a different spot in you. His eyes stay fixated on the soft, round flesh of your ass and the way his cock slips so easily into you, brows screwed in concentration, jaw clenched. The slight bounce of your ass each time he rolls his hips firmly against you, the way you ricochet forward each time in tandem with his moves. You bow your head, pressing your temple against the glass door now tinted with condensation, only marked up by the imprints of your fingers grasping at anything. It’s almost sweltering hot in the shower now but you both pay no mind to it. He fucks into you with such languid, steady strides, cock beginning to throb and twitch in anticipation. You feel so wet, such a pitiless mess between your thighs already that it makes him growl.

“H-Harder,” You mewl. “Oh, Koo━”

He almost slips behind you in his eagerness to obey, awakening something animalistic in him, a yearning to just release all the tension in his core. This time, he adapts a measured pace, forceful thrusts that have you crying out in delight each time. One hand reaches up to grip at your shoulder to steady himself while his other slithers around your front to grasp at your breasts, all wet and supple, pinching at your nipples.

“So good,” he moans, pressing sloppy kisses just below your ear. His breath is hot as he pants behind you, sending tingles down your spine. “Fuck━”

His voice is cut off by a whine, hips bucking forward in an unsolicited manner as he feels his high drawing near. You lean your head onto his shoulder, stretching your arm out so that you can tug desperately at his hair. It’s a silent, simple command, but it’s one that he immediately understands even without you speaking.

“Wanna feel you━” You whimper. “Wanna see you.”

Jungkook nearly slips as he fumbles to pull out of you, hissing at the loss of warmth and friction. As soon as you’ve turned to face him, he wastes no time in closing the distance between you. He pushes his leaking cock past your folds once more and continues at the same pace as if he had never even stopped to begin with.

“Fuck,” he whines. “Not gonna last━”

You wrap your arms around his neck, drawing him even closer to you, as he presses you against the glass. He hitches one of your thighs around his waist, spreading your legs just wide enough to hit a certain spot that has both of you crying out. You’re clinging so tightly to him, fingers digging harshly into his skin in an attempt to alleviate the building pressure you feel. He knows you’ve almost reached your end when you resort to a gasping, moaning mess, writhing beneath his broad stature.

“Close, baby?” he hums.

You open your mouth to respond but can only muster a whimper. His pace treads over to heedlessly frantic, the sound of skin against skin and the lewd wetness filling the shower. Despite his hips pounding into yours so harshly, his fingers flutter so delicately under your chin, grasping it and moving your head just enough so that you’re facing him.

“Lemme see you,” he grunts. “Wanna watch you when you cum all over my cock. Always so pretty.”

“I━ I’m━ Fuck, Koo━”

But you can’t finish your thought.

You keep your gaze fixated on Jungkook’s, however exhausted and weary it may be. Your lashes flutter, brows knit together, and you suck your lower lip between your teeth, biting so hard Jungkook’s certain you’ll bruise it. Another few hard thrusts and then you’re reaching your high, overcome by such an intense burning that you can’t help but look away out of instinct. You cry his name, face contorting in pure pleasure, and chest arching to meet his. You’re clenching so tightly around him has him sputtering for air, nearly collapsing entirely against you. You’re near dripping around his cock which only means he almost slips from you with each draw of his hips that he makes. It’s why he sloppily rocks his hips into yours, desperate to reach his own high as well.

When you return to your senses, blinking away your blurry vision, you can make out Jungkook cooing into your ear, “That’s it, baby. Doing so well.”

You meet his gaze once more, only this time you’re perhaps even more tired. Hooded eyes watch him, silently probing him to his climax. He comes tumbling towards it, a few more short thrusts of his hips and, finally, he’s there. He slams his hips up into yours one final time, crying out, and then he’s releasing into you in an overwhelming abrupt gush. Only he can’t quite enjoy it because, out of genuine accident and driven by impatience to just get off, the last jerk of his hips hits you a little too hard.

It’s what causes you to slip backward and he, so lost in his own reverie, hardly has a proper grip on you or where he’s standing. When you lose your footing beneath you, slipping on the wet porcelain of the tub, and comes crashing down, he’s brought along with you. “Oh, fuck━!”

The both of you yelp from the surprise, your hands flailing out to brace yourself for the fall.

Fortunately, you land on him when you reach the bottom of the tub, courtesy of him grabbing onto you last second so that he can soften the blow upon impact.

Unfortunately, the breath is knocked out of him from the startle and from the sudden added weight of you on top of him with no warning.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he groans.

“In hindsight,” You wince as you shift your weight above him, “maybe having sex in the shower again wasn’t the greatest idea. Remember last time when we knocked the shower curtain down and I had to get stitches on my elbow? It’s why we got the glass door installed, and then we had to lie to Tae about it.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” He tilts his head back, rubbing a hand over his face. Then, he flashes you an all too charming smirk. “Was kinda worth it though.”

You giggle, sounding so sweet and angelic, even despite the way his cum still leaks from you. Somewhere in the fall, his dick had slipped from you and now lays softening on his stomach which, really, is probably the worst part of the accident to him. He already misses the warmth of you wrapped around him, your mingling cum a dirty mess around him. You prop yourself up on his chest with your palms, but before you can even think to respond, you notice something out of the corner of your eye.

A small mass of fur in the shape of little Yeontan has just poked his head through the crack in the door, oblivious to you and Jungkook’s compromising position. And then, shortly following behind him, is his equally oblivious owner who must have forgotten something in the apartment to bring him back so suddenly.

“Tannie, get back here━ We gotta go━ Oh, Jesus, what the fuck?” Taehyung appears at the door for a millisecond before noticing the situation he’s just stumbled upon. Thankfully, he acts fast, and clamps a hand over his tainted eyes, clumsily scooping up Yeontan in his other hand. “Can you guys please stop fucking all over this damn apartment? My son’s eyes are too pure for this!”

And then he’s retreating, but not before bumping blindly into the doorframe, grumbling along the way. It’s silent for a moment as you and Jungkook gawk at one another; then you hear Taehyung leave the apartment once more, and the both of you dissolve into a fit of unabashed laughter.

“Are you okay?” You ask once you’ve calmed down enough as he reaches out to shut the shower off. You plant a kiss in your boyfriend’s hair. “You hit your head coming down.”

Jungkook’s heart swells at your gentle touches and smiles. “I’m fine,” he promises brightly. “You?”

“Well, you did just thoroughly fuck me, so━” You shrug innocently. “I’m kinda still too giddy to even care.”

“I’m gonna make it up to you,” he says. “For almost giving you a heart attack with my hair and for almost putting you in the emergency room again just now.”

The mention of his hair draws your attention to it once more. It’s not as wet as before, damp azure waves falling into his eyes that you brush away gingerly.

“Yeah,” You snort, “but I’ve decided I like your hair. Like, really like it.”

“Yeah?” he grins wide. “What was the deciding factor?”

You pause, as if to think for a moment. Exhaustion riddles your body and you know sleeping curled up next to Jungkook is nearing your future, but for now you let yourself entertain the last remnants of whatever lewd thoughts are still on yours and his minds before they fizzle away completely. You can’t help yourself anyway. The blue really is nice.

“Definitely the view of you eating me out,” You say. “And can’t forget how pretty it looks when I’m pulling at your hair.”

“Say no more,” he beams. “Then I’ll make it up to you by making you cum on my tongue again and again and again.”

The last thing he hears before he grabs at your cheek to softly pull you down to him for one last kiss, slow and ardent, is a bubbly giggle from you that delights him to no end.

“That’s a good boy.”

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

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toastedkiwi · 3 years

Text

Truth Hurts

Summary: Bucky finds out the truth.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Wife!Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader (platonic)

“I’ll get it,” Steve told you.

He went off to the front door. He opened the door thinking it’d be one of the neighbors dropping off yet another casserole. It’s not. It’s far from it.

“Bu—?” Steve said.

A metal fist collided with his jaw and forced the super soldier to turn 180° and drop to the ground. A squeal followed by giggles and clapping from tiny hands.

“James?!” you exclaimed.

“I’m not even sorry,” Bucky said stepping over the man on the floor. “I feel no remorse.”

He pulled the six month old out of the walker and held him close. He then went over to the kitchen table and sat down in Steve’s spot. He sat your little one in his lap. You’re in complete shock.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve hissed as he finally gained his bearings and got up off the floor.

“Don’t get blood on the floor, Steven,” Bucky said with a glare.

“You knocked out a tooth,” Steve said with a bloody tooth in his hand.

“That’s what you get for being a lying dumbass,” Bucky sassed.

You closed the front door and helped Steve into the kitchen. He’s very much still in a bit of shock. Bucky obviously knocked out the blond for a good few seconds.

You get Steve a paper towel to hold to his bleeding wound which is his lip and where his bottom right canine was. You also grabbed the frozen peas out of the freezer and wrapped a clean kitchen towel around it. You gave it to your husband and made Bucky a plate of pancakes and sausage.

“You didn’t have to punch him,” you said putting a plate of pancakes in front of him.

Bucky gave you a look that told you otherwise. You kissed his temple.

“I’m glad you finally decided to visit me… after two years,” you said.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said softly.

You took his head into hands and kissed his forehead.

“He can have very small pieces of food,” you informed.

Bucky nodded. You moved back over to the stove by your husband.

“Why are you sweet on him?” Steve asked. “He punched me.”

“You’ll be fine, Honey. And I want him to feel welcomed and loved. I missed having him around,” you said.

“He’s giving our child a whole pancake,” Steve pointed out.

“Bucky,” you scolded.

“Your dad is such a snitch,” Bucky grumbled to your son.

#steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x wife!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers #mcu #au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader platonic

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liberty-barnes · 3 years

Text

Oh, goodie

Holland Brothers & Holland!Reader

Request: “I didn’t fall. The floor looked lonely so I wanted to hug it.” “Then why are you crying?” “It was an emotional reunion.” Could you do this with Holland!sister and all the brothers and she is clumsy? + Ohhhhhhhh congratulation on you’re finishing you’re exams. Please can you do Holland!sister having some kind of medical condition and the brothers all being really comforting and helping her? Have a great day

Warnings: mentions of injuries, cursing, but we already knew that

Word Count: 800 words

Estimated Reading Time: 3.5 minutes

A/N: Combined those two requests cause they just fit so well together. Have fun reading this cause writing it made me laugh very hard.

Masterlist | Miah’s Comeback Sleepover

You held the gun closer to your chest as you panted, keeping a sharp eye out for any stragglers. Your chest, legs, and arms were splattered in red, your whole body aching. You pressed your hand to your stomach, where the most recent bullet had hit.

Sam came up next to you, equally as splattered as you.

“How’re you feeling?”

You glared at him and sneakily looked over the barricade, trying to spot your enemies.

“Like I’ve just been shot, dumbass. What kind of question is that?”

He shrugged and fire a shot into the distance, smiling at the answering groan.

“Haz is on the other side, we need to draw them away from their base so he can get out.”

You nodded.

“Run on three?”

With one last confirmation, you got ready to go.

“One. Two. Three, go, go, go.”

You started running in zig-zags so they’d have a harder time hitting you, jumping over obstacles and focusing on getting away. You heard footsteps behind you and quickened your pace. You couldn’t afford to be slow, right now.

A bullet hit your leg just as you were about to jump over a barricade. It threw your momentum off and you felt your foot get caught on the top. There was no time to think, only react, as you put your right hand up to cushion your fall, left hand still holding the rifle. There was a sickening crack as your body hit the ground.

“Oh, fuck!”

You turned on your back and cradled your arm to your chest.

“Time out! Everybody regroup, (Y/n) got hurt.”

Tom called and put the rifle down next to you, body splattered in blue from where you managed to hit him.

“Hey, you okay, that was a nasty fall.”

You scoffed, but your voice sounded pinched.

“I didn’t fall. The floor looked lonely so I wanted to hug it.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“It was an emotional reunion.”

He brushed away your tears and helped you sit up, taking off both of your masks.

“Hey, what happened, is she okay?”

Harrison kneeled next to you, Harry following with a heavily splattered Paddy behind. Sam was probably already taking care of everything, the responsible idiot.

“She just fell but from the looks of it, it might be broken.”

The blonde nodded.

“I’ll get the car ready for the hospital, I can get changed faster than you. You’ll just meet us there.”

You shook your head as your older brother helped you get to your feet.

“That’s really not necessary. It’s probably nothing, just a little ice and-”

Paddy slapped a hand across your mouth.

“Shut it Miss I’m-Fine-When-In-Reality-I-Had-A-Concussion.”

Okay, that’s a low blow.

“I was young, naive, and careless about my health.”

“That was six months ago.”

You should maybe stop talking about your injuries.

You walked to the entrance of the war zone.

“So, does this mean we won? At least Haz was halfway back to our base with your flag in hand.”

The opposite team shared a look.

“Yeah, alright, we’ll let you take it.”

You cheered.

“Yes! Paintball wars are fourteen to thirteen for us!”

----------

“Be careful, you’ll get hurt!”

With how much you’ve been rolling your eyes the last two hours, it’s a wonder they aren’t stuck to the back of your head.

“I can make my own tea, Samuel, thank you very much.”

He guided you to the table and sat you down.

You see, there’s a reason why you should never get hurt in the Holland household: no matter what age you are, you still get treated like a bloody baby.

“I am an eighteen-year-old independent woman will you just let me live?”

“You’re my baby sister and you have a broken wrist, stay still and let me take care of you.”

Fucking Holland men with their fucking overprotective streak.

“We’re back!”

Thank God your Mum and Dad were here to save you.

“Why’re you out of bed, love? You should be resting that wrist of yours, go lay down, we’ll bring you whatever you need.”

Correction: thank God your Mum was here to save you cause your Dad was just as stupidly overprotective as them.

“You know, I have a broken wrist, I’m not paraplegic. I can still take care of myself.”

Your Dad hugged you tightly, paying close attention to the glaringly pink (Tom’s choice) cast.

“I know, but we’re here and we love you, so we’ll take care of you until your full recovery.”

You watched Harry and Paddy bring up the “Sick Bell”, probably to install it in your room, while Sam and Tom were setting up the “Care Schedule”, so you’d “never be alone” and “always have someone available to help you”.

“Oh, goodie.”

These were going to be a long two months.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

*insert [they had us in the first half] meme* DIDJA LIKE IT? I DO, VERY MUCH SO

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Taglists: (if your name is striked through it means for some reason tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you)

PERMA TAG

@adriannajackson123 @evermoreholland @inlovewithmobtom @andycanbeemotional @officiallyunofficialperson @lost-in-the-stars03 @jeezkiddo @a-singleboat @parkersbliss @highlydisfunctional1 @inthecornerchair @harishaanne @anjalika03 @peterspideyy @lozzypoz321 @mendes-marvel @sovereignparker @sofyluv17 @dracoswhore007

HOLLAND & CO.

@just-here-to-escape-from-reality @onelovesr @agentnataliahofferson @zeusmyster @parkerpetertingle @juliebean247 @joyleenl @quaksonhehe @clara-licht @frustratingpaperclip @hungryforfood-blog @tutuabby28 @tacobacoyeet @thegirlwiththeimpala

#Libby’s stuff #libby writes #miah’s comeback sleepover #holland!reader #holland!sister #tom holland #sam holland #harry holland #paddy holland #dom holland #nikki holland #harrison osterfield #tom holland x reader #harrison osterfield x reader #sam holland x reader #harry holland x reader

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

Text

If I Fell For You (Part 2) - Baseball Caps & Stroller Naps

Summary: The reader gets into the swing of things around the Ackles household and starts having more one on one time with Jensen. He even offers to set her up with a friend of his. When he invites her to a family outing as a friend though, she gets another glimpse that he might not be as put together as he appears...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Square: Daddy!Jensen

Word Count: 5,900ish

Warnings: language, mention of death of a spouse/death of a parent

A/N: Things are starting to happen! This was also written for @supernatural-jackles Tell Me A Story Bingo!

________

“Good morning,” you said the next day as Jensen walked into the kitchen covered in sweaty workout clothes.

“Morning,” he said, going to the fridge to grab a drink. “Get the kids to school okay?”

“Yup,” you said, Jensen sniffing the air and humming as he walked over to where a loaf of banana bread was cooling in the rack. “Ah, it’s still too hot. Wait another half hour.”

“Fine,” he grumbled. “It smells amazing by the way. I don’t think anything’s been baked in this house in six months.”

“I’ve always enjoyed it,” you said, Jensen taking a seat on top of the counter. He chugged down the cold bottle of water, some of it dripping down the corners of his mouth. “Enjoy sleeping in today?”

“You don’t know the half of it. I feel amazing.”

“You look rested for the first time since I’ve met you,” you said. “You should sleep in on the weekends more too. The kids don’t need to be up at dawn.”

“No, they don’t,” he said. “I do love sleep too. You do okay with getting the three of them going on your own today?”

“Yeah. JJ’s old enough to get herself dressed and make her bed and do a few things on her own. The twins are a balancing act but the trick is to give yourself double the amount of time you think you need and you’ll never be late.”

“Not a bad tip,” he said as you finished wiping off a glass and picked up a pad and pen. “Whatcha working on?”

“Ideas for crafts and that sort of thing. You guys have a lot of supplies already so I was thinking of some ideas to do this week,” you said.

“You know...you can stick them in front of a TV too. They have their shows they like. We aren’t big on tracking screen time,” he said. “As long as they play and do some kind of creative thing everyday they can watch TV for a few hours in a row if they want. Our parents didn’t worry about that shit when we were kids, you know?”

“No, they didn’t do that,” you said. He lifted up the bottom of his muscle tank and wiped off his face, your eyes going straight down to the pad so you wouldn’t risk staring. “Any work scheduled for today?”

“I gotta wash up, head to the brewery for a few to check on things. I have some voice acting work I’m doing right now so I go to a place downtown and record that. That’ll be my afternoon. I can handle making dinner tonight. I should be back around four thirty, maybe a hair after,” he said.

“Alright,” you said. “Anything you need at the store today?”

“Nah, we got plenty here,” he said. He wiped off his face with his shirt again, using his collar this time. You handed him a dish towel and he smiled, rubbing it over his neck and head. “Sorry. I’m dripping aren’t I.”

“A little. Do you work out a lot?” you asked.

“No more than the average person. Try to do thirty minutes in the morning most days of the week. It’s sort of been my only alone time lately,” he said.

“Are you a runner?”

“God no. I’m not built for that. I like boxing and HIIT, weights, that sort of stuff. Part of my job is to look a certain way so if I’m gonna be the tough guy…”

“You gotta look like a tough guy?” you asked. He smiled and you looked him up and down. “Don’t get me wrong. You’re a strong guy, that’s pretty obvious. But you’re not a tough guy.”

“Oh I’m not?” he asked but there was a lightness to his voice.

“Tough guys tend to be assholes. You’re too nice for that,” you said.

“I suppose you have a point,” he said, sliding off the counter. He stepped over to the banana bread and picked up the knife nearby, slicing off a piece for himself and popping it in his mouth. “Hot. Hot.”

“I told you so,” you said with a small laugh.

“Tastes delicious though,” he said with his mouth full. You shook your head as he ate another piece and turned to go upstairs.

“Jensen,” you said, pointing at the sweaty dish towel.

“Ugh, yes mom,” he said, swiping it away with a smile.

“Thank you,” you said, tapping on your notepad. You felt his presence beside you, not to mention the smell, and turned your head up, Jensen smiling back. “Yes?”

“Aren’t you due for a break?” he asked.

“You don’t really get how this nanny thing works yet, do you.”

“Yeah well...I’m not a shitty boss so I guess you’ll have to get used to that too. Take a break Y/N. Have some coffee on the balcony. It’s a sunny January day. Enjoy it,” he said. You rolled your eyes and he pointed at the back door before he headed upstairs. You bit your bottom lip and glanced at the clock. You had been going for over three hours non-stop and one of those had been spent trying to convince a four year old he had to wear pants to daycare.

You turned to leave the kitchen when you heard a tsk. You jumped and slipped on the rug in front of the sink, falling backwards straight down to the hardwood floor.

“Sorry! Sorry!” he said as he rushed over. “I’m always tripping over that thing.”

“I’m fine,” you said as you sat up with his help. Your ass hurt but you knew you’d be alright. “Maybe we move the rug from the very trippable area?”

He swallowed and stared at you for a long moment before you smiled.

“How about we put it outside your office?” you asked softly. He nodded and you picked up one end of the long strip of fabric. He went to the other end and picked it up, backing up as you walked it over to the other side of the house. You laid it out in front of his closed door, smiling as you straightened it up. “There we go. Safe and sound.”

You headed back to the kitchen, Jensen lingering behind you.

“I was...gonna say you can make...you can use my coffee machine,” he said quietly.

“Okay,” you said quietly. “Jensen.”

“Hm?”

“Stuff is stuff. This isn’t a museum. It’s a home. It’s gonna change over time.”

“I know. It’s just that rug...it is so damn ugly and I hate it,” he said with a smile. “I wanted to get rid of it the day she brought it home.”

“Wives have a way of getting the last word in,” you said. He chuckled and you got out a mug for yourself. “Tell me to shove it if this is too personal but are you sure you want to get back out into the dating world? It’s rough out there.”

“It is. Until it isn’t,” he said.

“You’re a hopeless romantic, aren’t you.”

“Guilty as charged.” He rubbed the back of his neck and his cheeks flushed for a brief moment.

“Women like hopeless romantics,” you said. “Just don’t get taken advantage of for that. There’s some not so nice women out there too.”

“Afraid I’ll fall for some ditz?” he asked.

“No, I don’t think you’d do that. But someone might hurt you and you’ve been through enough. Maybe just...don’t fall in love at first sight or something like that,” you said. “Alright?”

“Never was much good at that,” he said to himself while you grabbed your coffee mug. “You believe in that sort of thing?”

“I’d like to. But you’re more of the expert on falling in love than I am,” you said.

“Maybe it’s not first sight but within a few days, a week, yeah I knew I was in love,” he said.

“Well if that happens again let me know and I’ll make sure this chick is good for you,” you said.

“I didn’t know my nanny came with bodyguard services,” he chuckled.

“That was under special skills on my resume,” you said as you headed over to the door to the balcony. “You should wash up. Don’t want to be late.”

“No I better not be,” he said. He turned to head upstairs, pausing on the first step. “You know, no one’s an expert at falling in love. Even those of us who were once married.”

“Oh don’t be a hopeless romantic for me getting my shit together too. We’ll be here for years,” you laughed.

“Just sayin’...maybe we’ll both find somebody. Not that we need anyone to be happy but...you know what I mean,” he said.

“Men don’t really talk about love like that you know.”

“I do,” he said. You smiled and he returned it.

“That’s why all the good men get taken early, the ones that talk like that,” you said.

“I was older than you when I got married. Maybe I’ll get married again someday. We’re out there. I promise.”

“Go shower,” you said, waving him off. You slipped outside, closing the door behind you. You leaned over the railing with your mug and let out a sigh. “You have to a be a fucking hopeless romantic too don’t you. Fucking perfect at everything.”

You lowered your head and took a deep breath.

“It’s a crush, it’s a crush,” you said, closing your eyes. “Just a crush. He’s your boss and a widow and he bought a birthday cake for me.”

You opened your eyes and glanced into the mug, taking another deep breath.

“He’s just nice. That’s it. Even if he’s…” you trailed off. You took a long sip of the hot liquid, not caring you were burning your tongue. Jensen was simply a nice person and that was that. You had a crush on the attractive single dad you were nannying for. There was nothing wrong with that and you knew for a fact it’d be gone by the end of the week tops.

“Ow,” you groaned a few days later. You opened your eyes and heard a knock at the door to your suite. “Yeah?”

“You okay in there? I thought I heard a crash,” said Jensen.

“I’m fine,” you said, sitting up with a grunt, leaning back against your bed. “Shit.”

“Y/N, are you sure you’re alright?” he asked again.

“No,” you said with a sigh. “The door’s open.”

You peaked through your open door down the hall, Jensen opening the one to the suite and offering a friendly smile. You nodded and he walked inside, frowning at your cut up knee.

“I got blood on the rug,” you said. “Do we have bleach?”

“I thought we agreed earlier this week a rug is just a rug,” he said, squatting down and looking at your knee. He looked up and saw your overturned garbage can in your closet where you’d been trying to reorganize a few clothes. “Next time use the step stool in the garage?”

“Yeah,” you said, your face hot. “I’m fine really. Just want to clean up the blood before it sets in.”

“It’s a few drops,” he said, helping you stand with a wince. “You got any first aid stuff?”

“Yeah,” you said, Jensen crossing his arms. “No.”

“Come on,” he said, putting his hands on your shoulders and walking you down the hall. “Scraped up knees are my specialty.”

“Jensen,” you said, stopping at the kitchenette island and bending your leg a few times.

“I’ll be right back,” he said. He left and you hopped over to the couch, stretching your leg out. The bleeding had stopped, just a thin cut on your knee cap where you’d hit it, but you knew you were in for a nasty bruise. He returned with a bottle and cotton ball in one hand, a bandage and ice pack in the other.

“Sorry,” you said, Jensen setting the items down on the coffee table.

“Why would you apologize for getting hurt?” he said.

“I should have my own first aid supplies,” you said.

“Ah. So you’re as stubborn as I am when you’re not feeling great,” he said. You looked down at your lap and took a deep breath.

“Am I fired?” you asked.

“No? Why the fuck would I fire you?” he said.

“I don’t know,” you said, picking up the bottle of rubbing alcohol.

“Have you been fired for getting hurt before?” he asked, watching you hold the cotton ball against the open bottle top and tip it over, soaking the liquid in. You pretended to not hear him and put the bottle back, wiping the ball over the cut, a deep red mark already on your skin. “Y/N.”

“Yes, I have,” you said. You set the ball on the table and picked up the bandage, trying to angle it over your knee. He rolled his eyes and took it out of your hand, bending down and turning it around, pressing it gently over your skin.

“I’m pretty sure that’s illegal,” he said as he looked up at you.

“Do I look like I have an HR department I can go to? They were dicks anyways,” you said.

“If you’re ever hurt, big or small, just tell me,” he said. He rested the ice pack over your knee and you sat back, throwing it up on the couch for you to lay there. “Promise I won’t fire you for it.”

“Well if I can’t do my job I’m not much use to you,” you said.

“Are all wealthy people assholes that act like that?” he asked. You shook your head and smiled. “Good.”

“I’ve nannied for eight different families, nine counting yours. Some were very good people,” you said.

“But you were just the help to them, even the good ones,” he said.

“I am the help. That’s the whole point of me being there,” you said.

“Do me a favor? Don’t assume just because you’re someone’s employee that they think of you as just the help,” he said, picking up the first aid supplies.

“Sorry.”

“Why do you apologize for…” he said, muttering to himself as you looked down. “If I ever make you feel like that, smack me in the head, alright?”

“Alright,” you said quietly. He nodded and left with the items, returning a moment later with some cleaning spray, ducking into your room for only a moment before exiting.

“It’s all clean,” he said. He lingered at the door and put a hand on it. “Leave that ice pack on for fifteen minutes and pop it back in the freezer. Put it back on for a bit before bed.”

“Thanks,” you said.

“It’s no problem,” he said. He still lingered and you took a deep breath.

“You should call someone, talk to them,” you said. He looked over his shoulder and you smiled. “You seem like you want to talk to somebody tonight is all.”

“I think I’m gonna go for a drive, maybe stop at a friend’s. The kids are all in bed,” he said. “If that’s cool.”

“Yeah go take a second for yourself,” you said. “I got everything here.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night, Jensen.”

One Week Later

“Y/N,” said Jensen as you washed your car in the driveway on a Saturday morning. You dropped the soapy sponge in the bucket and straightened yourself out. “Got plans today?”

“Uh, I was gonna run to the grocery store in a minute but other than that, no. Need me to watch the kids?”

“No. We were going out to lunch and then going to a little car show was all and we were wondering if you’d like to join us. Totally up to you. My treat.”

“You don’t want me to watch the kids?” you asked. He laughed and crossed his arms at you. “I’m confused.”

“Do you want to hang out with us today? For fun?” he asked.

“Oh,” you said. “That’s okay. You enjoy your time with the kids.”

“How do I make this clearer,” he said, walking over to you and looking down. “I want you to come with us, as a friend, to do something fun, like friends do. This is not work. Come if you want to.”

“You sure you want me to come?” you asked. He rolled his eyes and plopped his baseball cap on your head as he walked away.

“Yes. And wear sunscreen,” he said. “We’re leaving at eleven thirty.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll see you guys then.”

“There’s something about a burger that’s been cooked in a greasy pop up kitchen that just adds to the flavor,” you said as you took a bite of your cheese burger at the car show.

“It’s probably the grease,” he said, walking one hand on his burger, the other holding Arrow’s hand. She wiped her own little hand on his leg and he sighed as he looked down. “Arrow. I got napkins in my pocket.”

“Oh,” she said, wiping her face against him.

“No one mentions this part,” he chuckled. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulders once he was done with his food, humming as he pushed the stroller with a sleeping Zeppelin inside.

“Dad, I gotta go to the bathroom,” said JJ.

“I’ll take her and we can catch up with you guys?” you said. He mouthed a thank you to you as you headed over to the women’s room. You used the bathroom as well, finishing before her and waiting outside for her. “All set?”

“Yeah. Can we get fried dough?” she asked.

“Sure,” you said. You let her lead the way in line and got a plate for the two of you, taking a seat at a picnic table so she could dig in. “Taste yummy?”

“Oh yeah,” she said. “Dad likes fried dough a lot too.”

“Everybody does,” you said, taking a piece off the corner.

“Y/N, you don’t have a mom either right?” she said. “That’s what dad said.”

“Well that’s a funny question. I got a mom and so do you. They just aren’t around anymore is all,” you said. “What’s up?”

“I’m happy you stay with us I guess is all. I know you’re not mom and you work for dad but you kinda are and I like it when dad’s happy again,” she said.

“Me too. You doing okay, kiddo?” you asked. “It’s okay if you still miss your mom.”

“I do but I’m not sad anymore. Dad says when I get real old I can see her again so that’s cool,” she said, taking a big bite.

“It definitely is cool,” you said. “Maybe our mom’s are hanging out right now.”

“You think so?” she asked.

“Maybe. I bet they get up to some fun stuff up there,” you said.

“Me too,” she said. “Dad’s really happy you came with us. He’s been cranky lately.”

“Your dad’s gonna be just fine,” you said as she finished off her food. “So do you like having a nanny? I know that’s kinda new and funny, huh.”

“Yeah but I really like you being home. Dad gets flustered sometimes.”

“Flustered?” you asked with a little laugh.

“He works on a lot of stuff and he didn’t pick me up on time from school and stuff a few weeks ago. Too many chickens in a basket,” she said.

“Too many eggs in one basket,” you said.

“Isn’t an egg gonna be a chicken though?”

“I...never thought of it that way,” you said. You nearly jumped when you felt some hands on your shoulders but JJ was smiling as Arrow climbed up next to you.

“Ah. I see you ladies found the fried dough. Twins you want some?” asked Jensen.

“Yes please,” they said and he chuckled as he went off to buy some more.

“Look at her,” said Jensen twenty minutes later, pausing at a deep blue Impala, the twins both conked out in their stroller.

“Isn’t that the same car you have?” you asked, lifting up the brim of your baseball cap to get a better look.

“Mine’s a 67. That’s a 63. I love that color though,” he said. “Blue’s my favorite but it looks good on that car.”

“I think it looks good in black,” you said, walking again when you saw JJ a few cars ahead of the two of you. “Where’d you get your car?”

“Work,” he said with a quick smile, hiding behind his sunglasses and hat.

“Aren’t you an actor?” you asked.

“You have very obviously never seen an episode of my show,” he chuckled. “Which is totally cool by the way. I drove that car in the show for well over a decade. She’s one of my true loves.”

“Ah, gotcha,” you said. “So you’re a car guy.”

“Kinda. I don’t know everything but I enjoy them. What about you, you like-JJ! Stay closer,” he called out when she kept walking ahead. “So do you like cars?”

“I guess so. This is kinda neat, walking around and looking at the old ones. They had more style back then,” you said, walking past a pair of guys your age, one of them looking you up and down as you went by. “Did that guy-”

“Yup,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder, throwing his arm over yours for a few moments. “Looks like he got the message.”

“Jensen,” you laughed. “I wasn’t offended. It’s not like he was gonna come up and ask for my number.”

“I don’t like the look of him,” he said.

“Neither did I,” you chuckled, Jensen dropping his arm from around you. “You’re that guy friend girls have that will do shit like pretend to be a boyfriend and all that stuff, aren’t you.”

“At your service,” he said with a mini curtesy. You giggled and he straightened up, JJ rushing over.

“Dad can I get an ice cream?” she asked.

“How about some apple slices,” he said, reaching under the stroller and grabbing a cooler. He pulled out a little baggie and handed it to her, JJ shrugging and walking ahead of the stroller again. “Shit, that probably means I can’t get ice cream now too.”

“We can always get some on the way home for later,” you said. “I won’t tell on you.”

“I’m putting this on your performance review,” he said. You shot him a side glance and he smirked. “I’m joking. I don’t want to do that as much as you don’t.”

“Thank you for that,” you said, stopping and looking at a red challenger for a moment.

“You like that one?” he asked.

“It’s nice,” you said before you started walking again. You fixed your hat and caught back up with him, Jensen slowing down as JJ took her time ahead of you. “So I should probably know this but what show were you in where you were driving around a muscle car?”

“You really haven’t looked me up online yet?” he chuckled. You shrugged and he laughed to himself.

“I may have peeked at your IMDB page but that was it. Was it that show you were on a long time? Super something?”

“Supernatural,” he said, a big smile on his face. “Yeah, I drove it for that.”

“Oh yeah, that was the really scary show, wasn’t it,” you said.

“You’re too sweet,” he said, chuckling to himself. “It’s not that scary. I promise. Give it a try sometime. You might like it.”

“I’m sure someday I will. If I’m brave enough.”

“I think you are,” he said, JJ running up ahead again before he called for her to hang back. He sighed and threw his head back. “It never ends, does it?”

“I’m sure someday when she’s older you won’t have to worry so much.”

“I’m gonna worry about that kid when she’s forty years old,” he said.

“That’s cause you’re a good dad,” you said.

“You haven’t known me that long,” he said.

“Do you love her? Worry about her?” you asked and he nodded. “Well any dad that does that and tells his kid that someday they’ll get to see their mom again to help her grieve when he well and truly doesn’t know the answer to that...you get the picture Ackles?”

“I could be better,” he said.

“Everyone could be better. They don’t need the best dad ever. They just need the best dad for them and you seem like you’re doing a good job of that from what I’ve seen so far,” you said. “You’re gonna screw up but so does everyone. Try to just enjoy it and not be too hard on yourself.”

“You’ve spent a lot of time with kids haven’t you,” he said.

“I’ve been in the mom role more than once as a nanny,” you said. You kicked at the dirt and shrugged. “It’s how I know the difference Jensen. You don’t need me or want me to be their mother. You just need help sometimes. That’s an important difference. Asking for help, especially when you don’t want it but need it, that’s a good dad move.”

He was quiet as he walked, stopping at a yellow mustang. He stared for a moment and swallowed.

“Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot. Really.”

“Come on dad,” you said, walking away and up towards where JJ was. “Let’s go see if we can find one this one’s gonna be asking for on her sixteenth birthday.”

“Those three are finally down and out for the count,” said Jensen as he walked downstairs to catch you in the kitchen wiping up the pan from dinner. “Thanks for eating with us tonight.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” you said, putting the pan away. He looked out the back window and bit his bottom lip. “Everything alright?”

“You’re not like, hanging out with us cause you think you have to right?” he asked.

“Trust me. If I didn’t want to, I’d be down in my room,” you said. “Besides, I’ve thought about it and you know what, why don’t you set me up with that friend of yours.”

“Really?” he asked, a little alarmed.

“Why not? The age thing doesn’t bother me at all. Unless you think it’d be a problem for him?”

“No, he doesn’t really care about that sort of thing. I think he’d prefer it’s just someone he clicked with, had a connection, you know?” he said.

“Perfect. Why don’t you set us up for next Saturday night then?” you asked.

“I need you to watch the kids next Saturday night. I have-”

“The gala. Sorry, I forgot. Um, just, I’m free whenever. You know my schedule so you can set something up and just let me know?” you said. He smiled and nodded. As you were starting to leave he grunted. “Yeah?”

“I have some friends coming over for a drink in a bit. Small backyard fire. Whiskey and smores. You’re welcome to join.”

“Jensen. You’re not asking because you feel like you have to right?”

“No, not at all. I like hanging out with you. I’m sure whatever you’re binging on TV will be there if we bore you too much,” he said.

“Alright. I’ll be out in half an hour or so. Just wanted to freshen up from the show earlier,” you said. You ducked back to your room, taking a quick shower and changing into some leggings and a flannel. By the time you were out you could hear a slight mumbling and walked downstairs, catching Jensen with some guys on the patio pouring some drinks.

“Hey,” said Jensen when you stepped out of the slider door. “Guys this is Y/N.”

“Ah we get to meet the world’s best nanny,” said the tallest one. “I’m Jared.”

“Rich.”

“Rob.”

“Hi!” said a redhead that slipped out of the door behind you. “I’m Ruth.”

“Y/N. Your hair is kinda amazing by the way,” you said.

“This is what happens when you invite the girls,” said Rich.

“Normally we just talk about Jared’s hair,” chuckled Jensen. You grabbed a chair and helped gather up some snacks to bring over to his firepit, Ruth hanging back to help you.

“Jensen said you live here with him and the munchkins?”

“Yeah. He works so much it makes things easier on him. Are you an actress?” you asked.

“We all are. Only Jared lives close by. The rest of us haven’t been down here since…” she said and you nodded. “I really am happy you’re here. It’s nice to see a smile on our boys face again.”

“He’s a great boss. He’s very kind. We’re becoming friends,” you said. “He’s trying to set me up with his friend actually.”

“Oh which one?”

“Dunno. He just said he’s 42, an actor and is single. Age stuff doesn’t bother me.”

“Rob is a bit older than myself. It really doesn’t matter in the slightest, especially when you’re a little older,” she said. “Jensen says you’re great with the kids.”

“They’re pretty easy going. Normally the parents are the hard part of my job but he’s been great. He really loves his kids,” you said.

“Yes he certainly does,” she said.

By the end of the night you found yourself really enjoying Jensen’s friends. It was clear they cared for him at more than a surface level, especially Jared. You’d heard Jensen speak to him on the phone a few times and call him his brother but it really was apparent they had a special bond that went beyond a typical friendship.

“I’ll catch you guys for brunch before you head home,” said Jensen, waving night to them all as you helped pick up. You were just about finished and heading back for your room when Jensen caught you in the kitchen. “You have fun tonight?”

“Yeah. Your friends are great,” you said, a small pair of footsteps coming down the stairs. You both turned and saw Zeppelin there with tears in his eyes.

“What’s wrong, honey?” asked Jensen as he walked over and squatted down.

“I had a bad dream and I want mommy but she’s gone,” he whined. Jensen instantly scooped him up and held onto him tight, kissing his head. “I want mommy.”

“I want mommy too, baby,” said Jensen quietly. You mouthed go and he nodded, taking Zeppelin upstairs while you finished cleaning up.

You got up early the next morning and made a big batch of chocolate chip pancakes, plenty leftover for breakfast the next morning. Jensen padded over from the hall where you knew the home gym was, sweaty and tired but a smile came onto his face when he saw you.

“What’s all this,” he asked, getting a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Chocolate chip pancakes make everything better,” you said. He put a few on a plate for himself and sat down at the counter as you made up some more, stealing a few for yourself.

“These are delicious,” he said. You stored away some for when the kids got up, making up your own plate before you dug in. “Sorry about last night. I feel like I ruined the fun.”

“Not at all. He’s a toddler. I literally can’t imagine being in your position. I’d have fallen apart instantly,” you said.

“No you wouldn’t. You care about those kids,” he said. “You push on for them.”

“I know it’s not really my place to say so but-”

“Y/N. I’d prefer if you just talk to me like a friend, really,” he said.

“You made it sound like you were ready to try dating again. Last night you seemed kind of...maybe not so ready.”

“I’m ready. I will always miss her. I’ll always love her. But that doesn’t mean I can’t love anyone else ever again like that too, you know? I don’t believe there is a limit on how much love a person can give,” he said.

“Your wife was a very lucky woman,” you said.

“I was lucky. She was patient with me,” he chuckled. “You guys would have gotten along really well.”

“Can I offer a bit of advice?” you asked.

“What’s that?”

“Keep telling your kids about her, all throughout their lives. They’ll still get to know her that way, you know?” you said. “Tell your future girlfriend too. That’s how you’ll know if they’re a good one for you.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked.

“You’re a kind soul. I would expect your partner would be as well,” you said.

“I hope so. Mine kinda has a permanent handle with care warning label on it,” he chuckled.

“I don’t think so. Just need somebody that understands, not try to fix you. There’s nothing wrong with you in the first place,” you said, taking a bite of your pancake.

“Thanks, kiddo,” he said.

“You’re not that much older, bucko,” you chuckled.

“Nah, I’m keeping kiddo,” he laughed. “You good to watch the kids for a few hours around eleven?”

“Sounds good. Go have a mimosa with your friends for me,” you said.

“Will do, Y/N. Will do.”

______

A/N: Read Part 3 here!

#spn #supernatural #jensen x reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles au #rpf #jensen series #rpf series #jensen ackles x reader #spn fanfic #jensen fanfic #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfic

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enhalovebot · 3 years

Text

moonlight ੈ☪⋆｡

➻ yang jungwon x reader (gender neutral)

➻ fluff

➸ ˗ˏ ➶ [☁️]. ✧ ˚

⤷ over the course of your relationship, you never thought you’d love the nicknames that came with it. no matter how cheesy they can get.

Never would you have thought that you’d end up with Jungwon. The boy was so reserved and quiet when you first met him that you didn’t notice just how cheeky and playful he could be. At first, it wasn’t noticeable at all, but after some time, it gradually became very apparent. It started with something simple.

Bubs.

It was a lazy afternoon, and the rest of the boys were out, claiming you both deserved some quality time. Either that was the reason, or maybe Jungwon might have shoved all of them out the door. We will never know. But you’re just happy to spend time with your boyfriend.

“Hey, bubs? Can I lie down there?” Jungwon pointed at your lap. He didn’t notice the nickname. It just slipped out. But judging by your reaction, he may use it a couple of times until you're ready to blow up from the heat flowing in your cheeks.

“Yeah, s-sure.” You adjusted from your previous position, allowing him to lie his head on your lap. The moment his soft hair made contact with your pajamas, you knew you were doomed. Jungwon made himself comfortable on your pajama-clad thighs, enjoying the feeling of being loved as he is.

“We should do this more often, bubs.” There it was again. It was a simple nickname, yet it brings so many emotions you can’t control. “I agree,” you replied as you carded your fingers through his soft hair.

Babe.

It has been a while since you’ve seen Jungwon since both of you have different schedules, and finding time together is starting to get a little bit difficult. And now, for the first time in months, you finally found the time to visit the boys.

“y/n’s here! Make way losers!” Ni-ki excitedly pushed the door open to let you inside. Sunoo pulled you in by the arms in an attempt to hug you but was quickly interrupted by Jungwon, who whisked you away from the other boy’s arms. And the next thing you knew was the smell of familiar cologne.

His cologne.

“That’s not fair. You always hog y/n all to yourself when they visit.” Jake called Jungwon out from the couch, while the others only smirked in return. It was obvious the boy missed you. He missed you so much that he didn’t mind the countless teases thrown at him.

Whatever, Jungwon thought. He’ll deal with them later.

“I missed you so much, babe.”

There folks, is an arrow straight to the heart.

Darling.

You stood on the pavement waiting for Jungwon to meet you at the bus stop. He initially planned out a date, but it seems like he’s running late. Tirelessly, you sat down on the metal seats, moving your feet back and forth. Sounds of vehicles passing by kept you occupied as you waited for him.

You were expecting to wait for another ten minutes for Jungwon. However, sounds of aggressive panting came your way, followed by frantic footsteps. You glanced up to search for the source of the noise, and lo and behold, there he was. His hair was a mess, strands all over the place. His navy blue sweatshirt was ruffled and disheveled. And his shoelaces came loose by his furious running. And to top it all of, his flushed face matched his flustered state.

“I’m here, present.” Jungwon bent down, putting his hands on his knees, taking in massive inhales as he caught his breath.

“What happened to you?” You patted his back.

“Just took care of something.The guys were chasing me, kept asking me where I was going on a Saturday.” Jungwon met eyes with you, lifting his hand to caress your cheek.

“Glad to see you made it out alive.”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world, darling.” He slyly wrapped his strong arms around your waist as he emphasized the word ‘this.’ “Let’s get going, yeah?”

Cheeks.

“Hey, y/n?” Jungwon’s booming voice resonated from your doorway, feet planted on the floor in a stiff stance. You hummed, not looking up from your laptop. “Hmm?”

“Can you do the thing?” Jungwon drags his feet on the ground, shoulders slumped. “Do what?” Your eyes connected with his. There was a pregnant pause in the air as he carefully chose his following words.

Jungwon fiddled with his shirt, wringing the material in nervousness. He didn’t know what’s happening to him. His heart was going crazy. “You know..” He shifts from his weight on his heel. “Can you do the thing?”

Your eyebrows arched in confusion before it finally clicked.

Oh. The thing.

A smile slowly formed on your face as you stared at Jungwon, who was now sitting on your bed. He leaned in, eyes sparkling in admiration. “There it is. There’s the thing.”

“You feel better now?” You raised a hand to brush away the strands from his eyes.

“Yeah. Thank you, cheeks.” He suddenly stood up, racing out the door. But he made sure to give your cheek an affectionate squish before exiting the room.

Honey.

“Jungwon, have you seen my blan-” You paused, cutting yourself off as you saw Jungwon wrapped up in your favorite blanket on your bed. “Nevermind, I found it.”

Jungwon rolled on his side to face you with his face squished on the mattress. He looked adorable. “Sorry. It’s so soft I couldn’t help myself.” He paused and looked up at you in realization. Jungwon slowly raises the blanket, “Wanna share?”

A chuckle left your lips, shaking your head at his cheekiness. Jungwon happily invited you in his warm embrace once you started getting comfortable in his arms. “This is nice,” you yawned.

“Right? I could get used to this.” Jungwon hugged you even tighter.

Your breathing evened out as time passed by, and this didn’t go unnoticed by Jungwon. “Sleep well, honey.”

Buttercup.

You were laid down in the middle of the living room, bored out of your mind. “This is so boring.” You said, dragging out your words.

Jungwon, who was sitting down on the sofa, judged you in your current state, his eyes full of judgment as he looked you up and down. He didn’t mean to do it, he just loves seeing you react with just his eyes.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You snapped at him.

“Like what?” He grabbed the remote, switching to different channels as he did so, searching for something good to watch. Jungwon doesn’t meet your eyes, though he feels like burning from your gaze.

“Look at me, Won,” you sat up, arms folded over your chest.

Jungwon mindlessly allowed his eyes to meet yours. “What?”

“See? Stop looking at me like that.” You pointed out the way his eyes stared at you with so much judgment.

Jungwon laughed upon seeing how you reacted to his staring. “You’re cute, buttercup.”

Angel.

Sounds of sheets shuffling emitted from your phone speakers, “Why aren’t you asleep yet, angel?” Jungwon placed his phone on his bedside to see your face better.

You released an exasperated sigh, “I got a lot of work to do.”

“You can continue doing it tomorrow. You need your rest.” Jungwon insisted on the other side of the screen.

“But I can finish it tonight if I stay up a little longer,” you took a glance at your screen to see, Jungwon already looking at you with a stern gaze.

“Go to sleep, angel. It’s past two am already.” He reasoned with you once more.

You bit your lip as you contemplated the consequences. If you get to sleep now, then maybe you’ll have more time to do your task. Then, on the other hand, if you don’t go to sleep now, you’ll have to face headaches the next morning. And for sure, you also have to face the never-ending speech Jungwon prepared for you.

“Fine, I’ll go to sleep.” You settled your things away, cleaning your desk of the mess you created.

“Goodnight, angel.”

“Goodnight, Won.”

Love.

“Don’t come near me!”

“Love, you’re being a dramatic mess right now. It's just a cold.” Jungwon placed his hands on his hips as he stared you down from six feet away.

“You’re gonna get sick if you come any closer.” You dramatically swatted your arms in the air.

Jungwon howled in laughter, shaking his head in feigned disappointment. He loves you so much, honestly.

“Nothing will happen to me, love. Put some faith in me.” Jungwon ignored your protests as he brought himself closer to you, not stopping until he was face to face with you.

Heat came rushing to your cheeks when you noticed him come closer to you. So, you lifted the sheet up to your face, hiding from the boy in front of you.

A teasing chuckle slipped from his lips. Jungwon slightly tilted his head to the side. “Hm? Why are you hiding from me?” His hand came up to gently tug the soft material off from your face.

You mustered a weak reply to save yourself from embarrassment. “No... I’m sick.” Your voice muffled under the blanket.

“Don’t get all shy with me now.” Jungwon grinned at your actions. All he got in reply was a slight nudge, indicating you said ‘no.’

Feeling his lips on yours left you speechless because it wasn’t really a kiss. But it had the same impact. The things Jungwon does to you.

Again, he shakes his head while giggling like a fool. Jungwon tipped his forehead on yours, pressing a soft kiss on your lips, which was covered by the sheet. “Get better soon, love.”

Starlight.

Music blared from the studio, booming like there was no tomorrow. Noises of shoes squeaking against the floorboard kept you going. But mostly, it was because of the boy dancing in the middle of the room. He had a smile painted on his lips, his eyes full of love, and his hands were reaching out to you.

“Come dance with me!” Jungwon ran to you, his hands holding yours as he spun you around.

You laughed at his antics. There was no other place you'd want to be. Being here with him was enough. Maybe more than enough. The both of you continued jumping around the room, not counting it as dancing anymore.

The song soon goes somewhat quiet, building up to the beat drop. Jungwon drew closer to you, preparing for the right time for the bass to drop. You stared back at him, confused as to why he also went quiet.

“Baby, you’re my starlight,” he perfectly timed his actions to the beat. And as the beat drops, Jungwon tugs you closer, giving you a light peck on the nose. Then, the sudden urge to get him flustered washed over you. “I think you missed,” you pointed to your lips.

Jungwon chuckles at this, but nonetheless, he still pulled you in for another kiss. This time on the lips.

Moonlight.

It was late.

Like, really late. But that didn’t stop Jungwon from dragging you out to the night. “Isn’t this fun?” Jungwon spoke with a mouthful of noodles in his mouth, making his cheeks look even more adorable than it was before.

“Chew your food, love,” you patted the stains away from his cheeks. Jungwon’s heart almost leaps out of his chest from how beautiful you looked under the convenience store lights. Simple is a word he associated with you. He loves the simplicity looming around you, reminding him that he is human too.

Both of you were in some 24-hour convenience store, spending your extremely early morning together. “Want some?” You pushed a plate of sandwiches. Jungwon shook his head, instead, he picked up a napkin and proceeded to dab away at the stain you didn’t notice you had.

“You got a little something…” Jungwon’s voice faded into a soft whisper as he concentrated on wiping away the mess on your chin.

“And... Done!” He threw the tissue, shooting it straight in the bin. You continued to stare at him while Jungwon went back to eating his meal. He didn’t notice you until he peered back at you from the corner of his eye.

“What?” Jungwon asked, unknowingly tilting his head a bit to the side.

You shrugged, “Nothing.”

“What is it?” Jungwon scooted his chair closer to yours.

“I’m just glad I met you.” You couldn’t meet his eyes. So, you fixed your gaze on the table in front of you while you fidgeted with your long sleeves.

There was a profound silence.

“I’m glad I met you too, moonlight.”

You almost flinched at his voice, seeming that it was so quiet before he spoke up. But something felt new.

“Moonlight?” You questioned.

Jungwon nodded, “You make me want to give you my heart, y/n.”

“Well then, you’re my moonlight, too.” Your hand traced the dimples slowly revealing themselves as Jungwon smiles at you like you’re the only person in the world.

They call me moonlight, too. Jungwon smiled at the thought.

357 notes · View notes

nev3rfound · 3 years

Text

someone i once knew : b.b - p.4

with Fury denying Bucky the chance to stay to monitor you, he and the rest of the avengers are forced to go on a mission leaving you alone. if only they new the dire consequences that decision would enforce. (2.3k)

(anything in bold/italics are flashbacks/memories!)

masterlist / permanent taglist

- i also have an etsy shop and will be releasing wandavision themed items real soon! -

PART ONE . PART TWO . PART THREE . PART FOUR . PART FIVE . PART SIX

(also thank you again and again for the love and excitement for this series - i am loving the writing process and there are now two chapters left!)

“Look, you’re all going, no excuses.” Fury states as he stands before the Avengers all sat around the conference table with furrowed brows.

Bucky sighs to himself, thinking about you sat down in that lab alone, still unsure of what is even happening like everyone else.

“But Sir,” Steve speaks up, all eyes turn to him as Fury raises a brow as to whom is questioning him. “Y/n isn’t just someone, she needs protecting.” He reasons, but Fury exhales deeply.

“Mr Rogers, let me make this clear,” Fury steps forward. “I don’t give a damn.”

“You should.” Bucky mutters under his breath as his arms remain crossed over his chest, barely able to stop his leg from bouncing up and down.

“What was that, Sargent?” Fury quips.

Lifting his head, Bucky coldly stares at Fury, ignoring Steve’s silent pleas for him to back down. “You should care who she is, as she matters to me.” Bucky bluntly states.

“As I said, Sargent, I don’t give a damn.” Fury reiterates his point. “Stark hired her, she went through every background check there is. She’s perfectly fine here, do I make myself clear?”

No one dares to speak up as Fury turns his attention to Maria Hill standing beside him.

“Get the jet ready, they can finish briefing on the way.” Fury tells Hill.

Maria nods as she places her earpiece back on. “Yes, Sir.” She walks out of the room and Fury follows.

“We can talk more about this situation when you return.” Fury comments before exiting the room, leaving the team sat in tense silence as the thought of you lingers on all their minds.

“So that’s it?” Sam asks as Tony rises to his feet, not daring to look up at Bucky or Steve.

“You heard Fury, we’ve got a job to do.” Tony explains, knowing there’s no use trying to argue any further. “Come on, the sooner we go the sooner we can get back.”

Sitting in the lab, you wish someone was around to keep you company. The last time you had any form of communication was with Bruce before he left last night for a mission with the rest of the team.

All you can hear were his lasting words of advice; "Don't leave this room."

You were bored out of your mind, stuck in the confined space surrounded by cameras and monitors as you remain hooked up to various machines; yet no one will explain what they all do or what is exactly happening to you.

“Hey, FRIDAY?” You call out, desperate for something to do as you lean against the glass wall, flexing your feet.

“Yes, Ms Y/l/n, how can I help?” FRIDAY asks and you exhale deeply, what can an AI do to provide any assistance whilst her creator is keeping you trapped in a lab?

“Any chance Tony mentioned my dinner plans?” You chuckle, having all the facilities beside a kitchen at your disposal.

“I’ll arrange for dinner to be provided by an Agent, Ms Y/l/n.” FRIDAY responds, and you nod to yourself, sliding down against the glass as you lie flat on your back.

“Thanks, FRIDAY.” You mutter. “God, I’ve truly lost it, talking to an AI for company.” You groan, covering your eyes.

It has been a few days since you had a ‘memory’ or a snippet of one. It’s as if your brain has gone dormant the moment someone finally was willing to listen and provide help.

Yet, your mind always ends up wandering back to the ever-present thought of Bucky Barnes. You’ll never forget the way he screamed your name before he was forced to the ground, thrown out of sight from your point of view. There was something about him, the way he looked at you with so much pain lingering in his eyes, even when you first met him.

“Come on, seriously where are we going?” You giggle, following behind James as his hand remains in yours, guiding you out from the bar filled with soldiers.

Glancing over his shoulder, Bucky smirks at his best girl, still amazed that you’ve stuck with him through all this. “Somewhere special.” He tells you, quickly turning to kiss you sweetly before carrying on.

After walking for around ten minutes, Bucky guides you toward the old hall you used to go to during dances.

“This is somewhere special, huh?” You joke, resting your hands on your hips as Bucky fiddles with the lock, tearing it off with ease much to your surprise.

Releasing the chains, Bucky pulls the door open and motions for you to walk inside. Without hesitation, you quickly slip in as Bucky follows behind.

Your footsteps echo in the empty space, having barely been used for months since the war worsened. There are still banners from the last dance you attended with Bucky, dust lining the stage and the various blown out bulbs.

Bucky hovers near the entrance of the dim hall as the moonlight shines through the broken roof, illuminating your figure as you look around. He tries to ignore the screams that ring through his mind, the horror he witnessed mere weeks ago.

“James?” Your voice brings him back to reality as your hand cups his cheek. “It’s okay, you’re right here, with me.” You softly remind him, having experienced countless nights of cries and screams of terror leaving his lips as he flails around, wishing for it to all end.

Leaning his head against your hand, tears form in Bucky’s eyes as you move closer, wrapping your arms around him and hold him close.

“It’s okay, I promise, it’s okay.” You whisper, running your fingers through his hair as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his shoulders rising and falling. “It’s over, James, you’re safe.” You remind him, but his sobs subside as he lifts his head, resting his hands around your waist.

“Doll, there’s something I’ve gotta tell you,” Bucky admits, knowing it’s going to be more painful to tell you he’s leaving again. “I, Steve’s got a plan, one final mission.” Looking up, Bucky can see you trying to remain composed as you bite your lower lip. “And then we’re done, it’s over and I’m all yours, forever.”

“That’s it?” You breathe out. "One final mission?"

Nodding in response, Bucky guides you toward the moonlit spot in the middle of the hall. “That’s it, and then I’ll be here, by your side until you get sick of me.” He jokes, and your gentle laugh fills his ears.

“Won’t take long, but I’ll put up with it if it means you’re here, with me.” You tell him before tearing your eyes from his as you look up at the birds perching on the rails above you, cooing back and forth.

Bucky admires your smile, the sincere look across your face and he knows it’s now or never.

“Y/n?” Bucky asks, and you hum in response as you lower your face, your eyes practically sparkling brighter than the stars. “Do you remember the last time we were here?”

You smile at the memory. “Of course, we danced until everyone else had left.” You remember it vividly, dancing in the silence of the hall together before Bucky walked you home and slept by your side until the sun rose. His lips lingered over your skin as the sunlight beamed through your curtains, burning his eyes with the reminder he can’t stay.

“There was something I never got to say that night, and throughout everything I, I went through,” Bucky trails off.

“Hey, I’m right here,” You softly mutter, gravitating him back to the present.

“I, I always thought of you, my darling Y/n who has been there through thick and thin. I’m in awe of you, I think I always have, ever since we first met. Your defiance for both Steve and I is unmatched, and you’ve weaved a piece of yourself into me and I don’t want it to ever disappear.” Bucky explains, glancing up to see tears forming in your eyes.

“What’re you saying, James?” Your voice cracks as tears begin to fall down your cheeks whilst Bucky lowers himself down onto one knee before you.

“I’m asking if you, Y/n Y/l/n will do me the honour of being my wife, my doll and best friend forever.” Bucky can feel himself going as you bend down, level with him as a watery laugh leaves your lips.

“Yes,” You respond, looking at the beautiful ring that you recognise from his Grandmother. “you and me, James, forever.”

Gasping for breath, you sit upright clutching your chest.

“FRIDAY?” You yell, but there is no immediate response.

Uneasily you stand up as your body shakes, the memory replaying on your mind as the soldiers face is becoming clearer, his name ghosting your lips, but still refuses to leave them.

Looking across to the monitors, you notice they’re all down. Nothing is operating.

With uncertainty, you remove the various wires and pads covering your skin before stepping toward the glass door and pull it open with ease. “Strange.” You mutter under your breath as you walk out, half expecting a series of alarms to blare, but silence follows as you reach the elevator.

As you press the button for the elevator, you watch as it rises from the ground floor. Yet, the closer it gets the sound of voices near.

“FRIDAY, who else is in the compound?” You call out, now backing away from the elevator as it’s two floors away from you.

Silence ensues yet again, and now your heart rate increases as the elevator pings.

Backing away as the metal doors slide open, you rush back into the lab and hide beneath one of the many desks as a series of men yell orders to one another.

“FRIDAY, please,” You whisper to the AI who remains unresponsive as you close your eyes, wishing to remain unnoticed. “emergency protocol seven.” You add as the glass door shatters open, followed by several footsteps crunching across the broken glass.

Lowering your hands from your face, you can see three pairs of feet from where you’re hiding, weapons hanging in their grip.

“Get anything you can whilst the systems are down.” One man instructs, and you can feel your heart sinking further into your chest; you’re on your own, truly, defenceless.

“How long do you think we have?” Another speaks up, his Russian accent thick as the previous man sighs in annoyance.

“Twenty minutes at the most, now don’t waste time.” He spits before turning around nearing the entrance but pauses.

His feet crunch into the glass as he slowly walks back to the other men.

“Do you hear that?” He asks, holding his hand up to his ear as the two men look at him cluelessly.

“Hear what?” The Russian dares to question whilst you bury your body further into your hiding spot, covering your nose and mouth with your hands to suppress your unsteady breaths.

“The elevator stopped here before we planned which floor to go to, so, who called it here?” Your eyes widen in fear as footsteps approach the desk you’re hiding beneath. “Neither of you notice these tubes and wires connected to the monitors?” The man scoffs.

Within a split second, the desk is flipped over, revealing you curled up to the three men with twisted smiles across their faces.

“Hello, Miss.” The leader bends down and kneels in front of you, he extends his arm, revealing a tattoo across his forearm which you recognise from the many files you’ve read. “You and I are going to have a little game, and I can assure you, it’s going to be fun.”

Boarding the quinjet alongside Sam, Bucky wipes his lip, ignoring the throbbing sensation as fresh blood lines his fingertips.

“I told you, we’d be in and out.” Tony comments as the jet door closes behind him as he remains almost unscathed, unlike Steve and Bucky who are slightly worse for wear.

“You didn’t have to go off course like that, Tony.” Steve sighs, sporting a black eye as he takes his seat beside Natasha who wraps her wrist up with Bruce’s help.

Shrugging his shoulders, Tony picks up his phone. “Yeah, well, it’s done now and we can carry on with our little mystery back at the compound.” He mutters, briefly looking to Bucky whose thoughts have remained consumed by you ever since he left. “Hey, can we leave right now? We have to get back to the compound!” Tony rushes toward the pilot with a level of urgency in his tone.

“Tony, what’s going on?” Detecting the change immediately, Steve rises to his feet as he walks toward Tony.

Glancing over his shoulder, Tony can see Bucky still staring at him. “Protocol Seven was activated.” Tony explains in a hushed tone, but he should know better considering there were two super soldiers on board.

“What’s protocol seven?” Bucky speaks up, noticing Natasha tense beside Bruce. “What is it?” He repeats, trying to suppress his panic as Steve clenches his jaw.

“How long do you think we have?” Steve asks.

Rubbing his face, Tony sighs. “Maybe forty minutes, FRIDAY will lock the building, but with the systems hijacked it’ll take longer than normal.”

“Stark,” Bucky tries to remain composed as the plates in his metal arm whir, his fist clenching tightly. “what is protocol seven?”

Turning away from Steve, Tony faces Bucky with a heavy heart. “A security breach within the compound, the systems have been hijacked and FRIDAY is on back up mode.” Tony explains, but Bucky can tell he’s holding something back.

“What kind of security breach?” Bucky dares to ask, stepping closer whilst Natasha lowers her head whilst Clint remains sorrowful opposite the Black Widow.

"I'm so sorry, Barnes." Tony softly responds, looking down as FRIDAY's systems begin to reboot, the security camera's slowly reactivating.

“HYDRA, Buck.” Steve states. “HYDRA are in the compound.”

P A R T F I V E

(thank you to the following for all the love so far! if you’d like to be tagged in this mini series do let me know)

@mellmellmell12@theofficialzivadavid @fandom-princess-forevermore @lokilovefoever @vivalakatee @chgevorgian @captainwinterwriter @carliewinchester @spn-obession @buckysquad @shower-me-with-roses @basicgukk @yasminwashere @sunfouler @feminist-fan-girl @stealapizzamyheart @soccer-100000 @sunflowerbunny2 @kickingn-ames @choerriesmotion @why-thats-just-delightful @officialfictionalwreck @romanoff-nataliaalianovna @hersilencedscreams @b-r-stark @dezzxmx

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mxlti-fand0m-imaginess · 3 years

Text

Picture Perfect // Kurt Wagner

request: none

prompts: none

warnings: language, self image issues, not proofread, FLUFF

a/n: soulmate au where a picture of your soulmate appears on your wrist when you’re 13.

“It’s almost midnight!” you cheered excitedly as you made eye contact with your best friend, Liz.

“What do you think they’re gonna look like? This is so exciting! I can’t believe I have to wait six more months to see my soulmate,” Liz said, rambling on as per usual.

You kept your eyes locked to the numbers on your clock, waiting for it to saw 12:00. Seconds passed, and the numbers changed. Finally, it was your 13th birthday! The day a picture of your soulmate appears on your arm. You felt your wrist start to tingle, and you quickly pulled down your sleeve to see a picture of your soulmate form on your arm.

You smiled as you took in his image. His blue skin, his yellow eyes, his adorable elf ears. You couldn’t help but fall for him immediately.

“He’s..”

“Beautiful.” “Hideous.”

“What?!” you said as you turned to Liz in shock.

“You poor thing, stuck with that as your soulmate. He’s a mutant. And an ugly one at that. Who knows, maybe you’ll be lucky and he’ll die before you meet.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? First of all, he’s beautiful. Second of all, what’s wrong with being a mutant?! And why would you want him to die?! Do you even realize how awful what you said is?”

“Why are you defending him? He’s a mutant!”

“Get out!” you shouted, avoiding eye contact with her.

“What?” she asked you, shock overtaking her voice.

“You heard me. Get out! You can’t talk about my soulmate like that!”

Liz’s face fell devoid of all emotion. She quickly gathered her things and walked to your door. She turned around to see if you would stop her, but you wouldn’t even look her way. With a sigh, Liz left. The two of you never spoke again.

Kurt looked down at the image on his wrist. He smiled at the girl. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. And she was his soulmate! A smile overtook his face, but quickly faded away when he came back to reality.

There’s no way she would love him. A mutant. No one would love him. Certainly not someone as beautiful as you. He sighed pulled his sleeve over your picture. Maybe if he just ignored it, and didn’t acknowledge you, he wouldn’t have to face the inevitable heartbreak.

five years later

You sat on your couch, watching the news, when a story about the X-Men started to play. They just defeated an evil mutant in Egypt. You would give anything to meet them, they were incredible.

But then you saw something. More specifically someone. Your soulmate. He was one of the X-Men. Your smile went wide as you watched him on your screen. You looked closer, trying to find out where he was. Charles Xavier’s School For Gifted Youngsters.

You smile grew even bigger, if that was possible. That school was only a twenty minute drive from your house. Your soulmate was only twenty minutes away. You could finally meet the boy you’ve been in love with since you were 13.

You ran to your bedroom, quickly showering and getting ready. You wanted to look your best if you were going to meet your soulmate. You pulled on some dark skinny jeans, a Star Wars tee, and your gray vans. You put on some makeup, and brushed through your hair.

You stood in front of your mirror and smiled at your reflection. You looked beautiful. Now, you just had to get there.

You payed the taxi driver, and quickly got out. You looked at the building in front of you. You were here! Today you were finally going to meet your soulmate.

Nerves riddled your insides as you got closer to the door. Questions filled your mind. What if he didn’t like you? What if he already has a girlfriend? What if-?

Your thoughts were cut off by a girl walking towards you.

“Hey I haven’t seen you around. Are you new?”

“Uhm kinda. I-”

“I’m Jubilee,” she said.

“Y/n.”

“So what brings you here?”

“Oh my god,” a different voice said.

You turned and saw a guy walking over. He looked shocked as he stared at you. You gave him a confused look, and shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

He walked over to Jubilee and whispered something in her ear. Her eyes went wide and she grabbed your arm, turning it to see your soulmate mark.

“Oh my god! So that’s why you’re here!”

“Yeah,” you smiled awkwardly.

“Come on! We have to find him!” Jubilee said as she grabbed your arm and pulled you towards the school.

She opened the door and led you inside. You looked around, amazed at all the mutants. So many were using their abilities, and it was amazing.

“Oh, Jean! Have you seen Kurt?”

“No, why?” she said, her eyes widening when she saw you.

“You’re his soulmate. Hang on let me find him.”

She put her fingers to the side of her head and closed her eyes. A few seconds later she stopped and turned to Jubilee.

“He’s in the library. It was nice meeting you,” she said as she smiled at you.

“You too,” you said as Jubilee pulled you once more.

She led you to a room, presumably the library. She opened the doors and pulled you in.

“Kurt are you in here?”

A cloud of blue smoke appeared before you, and there he was. Your soulmate. Standing right in front of you. But as soon as he noticed you, another blue cloud appeared and he was gone. Your face fell. He probably didn’t want you. Just like you thought.

“Don’t worry y/n, we’ll find him. I think maybe finding his soulmate just startled him.”

You nodded slowly, hoping that maybe she was right.

Kurt was in his room, panicking. His soulmate was here. The girl he had tried to forget. The one who would never love him. What was she doing here? Was she going to yell at him for taking away the chance to be happy with her soulmate?

Then Jean’s voice was in his mind.

Kurt she’s not going to yell at you. She doesn’t hate you. She wants to meet you. Just come back to the library and see for yourself.

He thought it over for a second. It’s not like he had anything to loose. And who knows, maybe somehow Jean was right. Maybe someone actually could love him.

-bamf-

He was back. Your soulmate was right in front of you. You smiled at him, and he shyly smiled back.

“We’re gonna give you some space,” Jean said as she dragged Jubilee out of the room.

“Hi I’m y/n,” you said as you smiled at him.

You found it hard to speak, even harder to think. He was beautiful. Butterflies erupted within your stomach as his eyes met your own. Part of you still couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

“I’m Kurt. It’s nice to meet you. Sorry about before, I vas nervous.”

“It’s ok, I’m a little nervous too. I’ve been waiting for this moment ever since I first saw you.”

“You vanted to meet me? Vhy? Most people are scared of me. They think I am ugly,” he said as his eyes met the floor.

You walked closer and placed your hand on his cheek, causing him to look at you with wide eyes.

“Well I think you’re beautiful,” you said with a gentle smile.

Suddenly Kurt’s arms were wrapped around as he hugged you. You smiled to yourself as you hugged him back. When he let go, you saw his cheeks were a light purple. You giggled slightly, and nervously twiddled with your fingers.

“Sorry about that. I couldn’t help it. It’s just that you vere being so nice to me and-,” you cut off his rambling.

“It’s okay. I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

A smile made it’s way onto his face as he looked at you.

In a quick moment of not thinking, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. And then there was a blue cloud in front of you, and he was gone.

Kurt didn’t know what to do, so he just left. He was outside the library, his eyes wide and his face covered in a purple blush.

“What happened? Why are you out here?” Jubilee asked.

“I think I can answer that,” Scott said as he pointed to the lipstick print on Kurt’s cheek.

Jubilee squealed and smiled. She then turned around and opened the library door and motioned for you to come over to them.

“Sorry. I vas nervous again,” Kurt said awkwardly.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to keep apologizing,” you said with a slight giggle.

A silver flash appeared and suddenly there was a new person standing in front of you.

“Who’s this?” he said as he looked at you.

Then he started looking between you and Kurt, a smirk growing on his face.

“Did smurf finally get a girlfriend?” Peter said as he smiled at the two of you.

Jean shoved him lightly, and Kurt looked confused at the nickname.

You quickly grabbed Kurt’s hand and you smiled at the new guy.

“Yes, yes he did.”

#xmen #x-men #xmen apocalypse #xmen dark phoenix #kurt wagner #kurt wagner imagine #nightcrawler #nightcrawler imagine #kurt wagner x reader #nightcrawler x reader #xmen x reader #imagine #imagines #fluff #soulmate au

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leossmoonn · 3 years

Text

No Weakness [Spencer Reid]

masterlist

pairing - spencer reid x gn!reader

type - fluff, lil angst

request / note - “where the reader is new to BAU and they see dead body first time, and it kinda bothers them. and spencer noticed it, even when the reader tries they best no show it (bc they’re scared it makes the look like they’re weak) so when they’re just two of them spencer tries to make them feel better and tells them its okay and it does not make them weak.” this was so fun to write, ahhh! thank you @avrilstaro for requesting <3 *not edited lol oops*

summary - you’re embarrassed after freaking out from seeing a dead body, but spencer assures you that it’s okay

warnings / includes - descriptions of mutilated body, small description of case (child kidnapper case for this fic), crying, anxiety, nausea, little fighting, food mention. you and spencer are dating in this

————

*gif isn’t mine*

“I can’t believe I didn’t get to sleep in,” you mumbled, throwing your purse down on your desk rather roughly.

“Not like you would’ve anyways. Ariel was meowing for you five minutes before we got called in,” Spencer stated.

“So? I would’ve fallen back asleep after,” you shrugged. “You would’ve stayed up all morning playing with her, babe,” Spencer chuckled.

You rolled your eyes. “You don’t know that.”

“I do! You’ve done it every morning since we got her,” Spencer argued.

You scoffed, shaking your head at your boyfriend. You trudged over to the coffee machine, getting out a mug the size of a bowl and filling it to the brim. It was already your third cup of the day, and while it was probably unhealthy drinking that much coffee, you needed it. It was your first week on the job and you still weren’t used to waking up at five in the morning for a surprise case. This was your second case, though, so you weren’t very surprised that you were still tired. You knew you would get used to it as time went on, but you wished that your body and mind would adapt faster.

“You’re coming on the field today.” Emily nudged your arm with a file.

Your eyes widened and you sputtered out coffee, coughing to try and clear your throat. Emily chuckled, patting your back gently to help you. You set your coffee down, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand once you got control of your breathing.

“W-What?” You asked, the words Emily said not processing in your brain.

“I said you’re coming onto the field today,” she repeated.

“B-But…” your trailed off, trying to find a reasonable explanation. “I-I wasn't supposed to be on the field for another week. I’m still technically in training.”

“Well, part of the training is going on the field. You’re an amazing agent in the office, L/n, but you'd be even better on the field. You’re able to sympathise with the unsubs and solve the puzzles faster than most of us can, sometimes faster than your boyfriend. You’ll help us a lot better out there than in here.”

You chuckled nervously, heat crawling up the back of your neck. “Thanks, Emily, but I’m not ready.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “That’s what all the new agents say. You need to just get out there, and there’s no better time to do that then early in the game.”

“I guess,” you muttered, lifting your coffee cup and taking a sip.

“You’ll be fine, Y/n. I have no doubts,” Emily smiled.

“Thanks.” You have her a small smile. “No problem. And hey, don’t tell Spencer I said you’re better at the job than him,” she winked.

You laughed and nodded, “I won’t, I promise.”

She walked away, leaving you to lean against the counter and to drink the rest of your coffee before going to the briefing room.

“So, I heard that Newbie is finally coming along with us today!” Luke exclaimed.

“Newbie is your nickname, Newbie,” Penelope narrowed her eyes at Luke. Luke rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Anyways, you excited?”

You sat down in one of the chairs between to Luke and Matt. “Not really, if I”m being honest.”

“Oh, why? You’ll be great!” Matt smiled. “So everyone says,” you sighed.

“Hey, I heard you’re coming with us today. Can’t wait to have you on the field.” Spencer smiled as he walked past you.

“Yeah, I’m excited to outsmart you, too,” you smirked.

“Oh, Reid, looks like you have some competition!” Luke teased.

Spencer shook his head and looked at you through his lashes. You gave him a challenging look, leaning on the table.

“May the best agent win, Reid,” you dared.

“Alright,” he shrugged. “Better have no weaknesses, L/n.”

“Oh, I have none,” you smirked. Spencer replied to you with a hum, giving you an excited smile before paying attention to the case.

Penelope and Emily delivered the case to you six, then leaving you all to pack up your things as you were going on the jet. You got out the small duffle bag of clothes you had in your car for traveling on cases, also grabbing your phone charger and the case files. You walked up onto the jet, placing your bags up over the overhead storage area. You got seated across from Tara and next to Spencer.

You all talked about your plans to catch the unsub and where you all were assigned to. Tara, you, and Spencer were going to go to the crime scene to scope out the area. Emily and JJ would stay at the police station and work there, while Matt and Luke did witness and suspect interviews.

You were sitting back in your chair, looking out the window and admiring the sky as the jet flew through the clouds. You still had an hour before you landed. Everyone was either sleeping or listening to music. You had thought about going back to sleep, but it seems as though the three cups of coffee you had finally kicked in.

You regretted drinking so much coffee because now, your heart was racing and your hands were shaking. You weren’t sure if it was totally because of the caffeine or that you were nervous about being on the field for the first time, but you assumed it was a little bit of both.

Spencer, who was seated next to you, noticed your jitteriness. He closed his book softly, setting it down on the floor next to his seat, turning to you and taking your hands in his.

Your head snapped to him quickly, your eyes landing on his. He gave you a soft smile, beginning to rub his thumb over your knuckles.

“You’ll do great out there, alright?” He assured.

You sighed, turning away from the window and to him. “What if the lead I find doesn’t work? What if I can’t figure out where the unsub has the kids? O-Or what if I embarrass myself in front of the police chief?”

Spencer chuckled softly at your concerns, making you frown.

“Don’t laugh! Hey, I bet you had all these concerns when you first joined.”

“I did,” he admitted. “But, I learned that I worked with a team. It’s not just me doing the work, just like it’s not just you. You have seven people working with you on this. Try and relax, baby, alright? You do amazing work at the office. This won’t be any different.”

You scoffed, “Please. It’s like, a million times different.”

“Just try and relax,” he instructed, putting your hand up to his lips.

You smiled widely, your heart fluttering as he kissed your hand.

“Plus, even if it was just you working the case, I have no doubt you would figure it out quickly.”

“Thanks, babe,” you smiled and leaned your head against the headrest.

“Of course. I love you,” he said, leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Oh, gross. You guys know I just became newly single,” Tara scoffed.

You laughed and turned to her. “That was like, nine months ago.”

Tara raised her brows, looking at Matt and Spencer, and back at you. “You weren’t even here back then. How do you know this?”

“I just know things,” you winked. “Yeah, well I’m betting someone blabbed,” Tara grumbled.

“We would never,” Matt disagreed. “Mhm,” Tara hummed, going back onto her phone.

You smiled at you teammates and looked back at Spencer and putting your head on his shoulder. You closed your eyes for a few moments, opening your eyes again. You blinked rapidly, yawning and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You rolled your head around, your eyes settling onto Spencer who was back to reading his book. You turned your head back to the window, furrowing your brows as you noticed you weren’t up in the sky anymore.

“Oh, good. You’re up,” Spencer spoke, putting his book away.

“Are we here already?” You asked, your voice croaky and hoarse.

“Yep,” he nodded. “We landed about ten minutes ago.”

“Oh,” you frowned, sitting up and getting out of your seat. You stretched your limbs, yawning once more as you held your hand up above your head. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” You sighed.

“You’re just so peaceful when you sleep. I couldn’t,” he explained.

You smiled and went to get your luggage. “Thanks, Spence. But everyone is probably waiting for me now.”

“No, it’s alright. We can’t go and see the crime scene yet anyways.”

“How come?” You asked. “Not prepped for us,” Spencer answered.

“Since when does a crime scene need to be prepped for the FBI?” You snorted.

“You’d be surprised,” Spencer let out a breathy chuckle.

You put your duffle bag over your shoulders and handing Spencer his, holding your hand out for Spencer to take. “Join me down the stairs?”

“Of course,” he grinned, standing up and taking your hand into his and his bag.

You two walked off the jet, going over to the SUV. Spencer drove you two to the hotel where you dropped off your things, immediately going to the police station.

“ ‘Bout time!” Matt exclaimed, seeing you two walking through the doors.

You chuckled, “Sorry. Looks like the coffee wore off and I finally crashed.”

“It’s alright. I think the scene is ready for you guys to look at now,” he said.

“Great,” you smiled.

You and Spencer found Tara, going into the SUV once again, driving to the house where the parents were killed and children taken.

“Wow, I’ve never seen this much yellow tape in my life,” you chuckled. “Yeah. It’s definitely not an eye sore,” Tara chortled, stepping over the caution tape.

You and Spencer followed her, going up to the police offers that were talking at the front door.

“Hi, we’re FBI agent with the BAU. I’m Doctor Tara Lewis, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, and Agent Y/n L/n,” Tara introduced you all.

You smiled and shook the two officer’s hand. “Nice to meet you two.”

“Likewise. I’m Officer Santiago and this is Officer Reynolds. The parents were killed in two different places. The father in the bedroom, mother in the oldest child’s room.”

“Lovely. Can’t wait to see,” Tara smiled sarcastically.

“Oh, I bet. Go ahead and go in, let us know if you find anything, please,” Reynolds said.

You nodded and stepped into the house, cringing at the heavy smell of bleach.

“God. It’s like a hospital in here, but twenty times worse!” You held your nose. “I should’ve told Emily I needed to stay back with Penelope.”

“Oh, this is nothing,” Spencer smirked. “Wait until you see where they all got killed.”

“Ew, Spence!” You shrieked. “You’re supposed to protect me from all that.”

He chuckled, “All part of the job, baby.”

You nodded and sighed, knowing that he was right. As always. You three walked up the stairs, looking at where the father was killed. There was an enormous amount of blood of the bedsheets and some on the corner of the right nightstand, some splatters that were below on the floor.

“So,” you started. “We’re looking at a team, right? I mean, there’s no way that the unsub could kill the father without the mom noticing.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking’,” Tara nodded. “Well, I could be possible,” Spencer contradicted.

You and Tara looked at each other, confused.

“Yeah, how?” You asked.

“Well,” Spencer said, walking over to the bed. “The unsub could’ve choked or suffocated the father in his sleep. I mean, there were ligature marks around his neck, right?”

“True. And the mom was saying goodnight to her children, so she obviously didn’t see her husband get killed,” Tara added on.

You furrowed your brows, stepped out of the parents’s bedroom, going to the child’s.

“Yeah, but, what about the kid? I mean, wouldn’t it have screamed and fought and ran out of the house?” You asked.

Tara looked to you, eyes widening in surprise. “Yeah, that is a good thought. So… unsub number one is killing the father while unsub number two is kidnapping the mom slash killing the child…”

“No, that wouldn't work. Maybe it’s a group of three?” Spencer suggested.

“Maybe,” Tara shrugged.

You stepped into the child’s bedroom, scrunching your nose as a foul smell wafted under your nose. You walked around, covering your nose with your sleeve. You saw the blood on the bedsheets and nightstand table.

“Looks like the unsubs all have the same MO’s,” you muttered.

You opened the closet, seeing nothing but toys, clothes, and shoes. You closed the doors, looking around the walls, your heart sinking as you saw all the finger pantings and pictures of family and friends. You walked up to the wall, losing your balance as you tripped on a a long, soft object.

You let out a yelp, falling on your shoulder. You groaned in pain, turning on your back while holding your injured side. You looked around for the object you tripped on, frowning as you couldn’t find it. Something pale caught the corner of your eyes. You raised your brow, getting up on your knees and moving closer.

“What the —” You muttered, your voice getting caught in your throat as you realised it was an arm sticking out under the bed. “Oh, my —” You gasped, peering under the bed, seeing the dead body of one of the children. “Oh, my God!” You shouted, scooting back, your back hitting the wall as you stared at the lifeless body. Tears welled up in your eyes and you put your hand to your mouth, loud and broken sobs escaping your throat.

The boy couldn’t have been more than a few days old, yet it was still lying there. You could see the lifelessness in his eyes, and still the fear. There was a slit across his throat and cheek, his upper chest red with with green and purple bruises. You felt nauseas and cold, your heart sinking all the way down past your stomach. Your body was shaking and you couldn’t tear your eyes off of the body, no matter how hard you tried.

You heard the footsteps of your colleagues, their voices calling your name.

“Y/n, where are — O-Oh, my God.” Spencer’s eyes widened as he saw you crying on the floor. He immediately dropped down to his knees, taking you into his arms. “What happened.”

You were unable to move, your eyes staring wide at the body. Spencer followed your gaze, his own heart dropping down to his chest.

“Oh, man. Um,” Spencer said, looking away from the body and to you. His heart broke as he saw you so horrified. He put his hand on your cheek gently, turning your face so you were no longer looking at the body. “Let’s get you to out of here, alright?”

You nodded slowly, your breaths becoming laboured as you tried to calm yourself down in Spencer’s arms. He got up, taking you with him. He walked you out of the room, coming face-to-face with Tara.

“What happened?” Tara gasped.

“Looks like the unsubs left the older boy. Tell the police officers, I need to get Y/n out of here,” Spencer said.

Tara looked at you, nodding without hesitation. She let you two go, Spencer walking you down the stairs slowly. You exited the house, still taking heavy breathes as the image of the boy haunted your thoughts. Spencer gently got you seated into the car, buckling you in. He went to the driver’s seat, getting in and starting to drive.

You two sat in the silence for thirty minutes while Spencer drove around. You looked at the window the whole time, your eyes glossy and strained from crying and keeping them open. Whenever you closed your eyes, even to just blink, flashes of the dead boy raced through your mind. Spencer waited patiently for you to speak, understanding how shocked and horrified you were.

He parked in a Burger King parking lot, sighing and looking at you. He gingerly put his hand on your shoulder, only for you to shrug him away.

“Y/n,” he sighed.

“No,” you grumbled. “Take me back.”

“I think it would be smart if you took the day off. Seeing a dead body, especially a child’s and one you had no idea exited, can really throw you off. The first time I saw a dead body…. Man, I-I was sick to my stomach. I—”

“Shut up!” You exclaimed, waving your hands in the hair. You looked at him, your chest heaving up and down. Your brows were furrowed and mouth open, your eyes glaring at him. “Just shut up, Spencer!”

His mouth went agape, hurt flashing though his eyes. He didn’t let your outburst dampen his spirits, though. He knew you were embarrassed and still horrified, and that you didn’t like to feel belittled. So he gave you a small, comforting smile, taking your hands into his. You didn’t move away this time, but you avoided any and all eye contact.

“I know how you feel, babe,” he sympathised. “Yeah, I bet,” you muttered, your voice hoarse and dry.

He frowned and unbuckled, leaning closer to you. He put his hand on your chin, turning your head with strength and force. You eventually met his eyes, his smile dropping as he saw tears rolling down your cheeks once again, your lips pulled into a pout.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he assured, cupping your cheek and wiping your tears away with his thumb.

“N-No, it’s not,” you sobbed, shaking your head. “I-I’m so weak. I should’ve been ready. This is what I’ve been tra-trainging for and I suddenly turn into a freaking wuss? I-I… I… It’s so embarrassing!” You shoulders racked with sobs as you hung your head down to cry.

“Oh, baby,” Spencer sighed, taking your head in both of his hands. He held your head up again, bringing his face close to yours. He put his forehead against yours, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “It’s no embarrassing, alright? Your reaction was a perfectly normal reaction to seeing a dead child’s body. Honestly, if you didn’t cry and freak out, I would be worried,” he chuckled.

You gave him a watery smile, laughing with him. “Y-Yeah, I s-suppose,” you sniffled. “B-But,” you started. “I-It makes me look weak. And I don’t want to look weak, Spence. A-All my life I’ve been told —”

He smiled widely, leaning back so he could look you in the eyes. “You’re not weak, Y/n. You never could be, even if you tried. You’re just human, and that’s fine. It’s amazing, honestly. You know, I am so proud of you, babe.”

You frowned, “Why?”

“Because today was your first day out on the field, and you did fantastic. It can only get better from here.”

“Y-You really think so?” You sniffed, wiping your nose with your sleeve.

“I know so,” he nodded confidently. “And it’s okay to show weakness, Y/n. No weakness is the real weakness.”

“Such wise words,” you laughed. He laughed with you and he shrugged. “I try.”

You laid your head back on the headrest, looking a him through tired eyes. “Thanks, Spencer. It really means a lot.”

He nodded with a smile. “Of course, honey. Now, why don’t you say we get something to eat, then go back to the precinct?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “Sounds great.”

He nodded and buckled himself back in, putting his hand on the gearshift and looking to you.

“I’m proud of you, you know that?”

You smiled shyly, heat scorching your cheeks. “Yeah, I know. You’ve already told me.”

“Just making sure you know, baby.”

————

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291 notes · View notes

nerdzzone · 3 years

Text

-More Hearts Than Mine-

Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.

Especially when a global pandemic is sweeping the world.

With lockdowns and stay at home orders looming on the horizon, the uncertainty of their situation becomes almost too much for Whitney Taylor to handle. Chris suggests that they quarantine together to avoid any potential separations but, given what happened the last time they spent more than a few brief moments in each other’s company, that could cause more problems than it solves…

Chris Evans x OFC

Sequel to: Once Bitten - Twice Shy

Note: Again, just a reminder that all the information I have about covid restrictions in Massachusetts is from google, not first hand experience, so if something seems wrong please just go with it.

Part Three

______

Part Four

If avoiding difficult conversations was an Olympic sport then it's pretty safe to say that I would have earned myself a gold medal by the end of the following week. It wasn't all that hard to do though as the exhaustion from parenting during a pandemic was hitting us both. Especially because the weather for the first couple of weeks of April was abysmal. It was cold, stormy and raining almost every day and we were all getting quite stir crazy from being inside constantly - especially our lively and spirited child.

So, it was a massive relief when the sun finally came out.

It was also a relief that it lined up with Grayson's third birthday.

He was going to have a very different birthday than previous years - as most people would over the next few months - but we wanted him to have fun and he was quickly tiring of all the indoor activities that we could come up with.

We set the living room up the night before after he'd gone to bed, putting up a birthday banner with several clusters of balloons, and there was quite the mountain of presents in the corner as most of our family members had sent their gifts in advance. I had hoped to wake up before him, but when I woke up to excited cheers and Dodger barking from downstairs, I knew I was too late. A quick glance at my phone told me that it was only six thirty, but clearly the excitement had gotten him up earlier than normal.

"Whoa, Dodger, Grayson, shhhh," I heard Chris warn the pair of them, his voice still raspy from sleep. "You'll wake up the whole neighbourhood."

I smiled and quickly climbed out of bed. Chris wouldn't let him open any presents without me, I knew that, but I didn't want to keep him waiting for too long.

When I got downstairs, a very excited Grayson was bouncing on the couch as Chris sat next to him, watching him closely with a smile on his face.

"Happy birthday!" I cheered, catching his attention.

He sprang off the couch and bolted towards me.

"Thanks, Mama," He shouted, throwing his arms around my legs and looking up at me. "I'm three!"

"You are!" I smiled as I knelt down in front of him and pulled him into a hug. "You're such a big boy now."

He let me squeeze him for another moment or two before wiggling free.

"Can I open presents?"

Chris laughed at his clear priorities, shaking his head as I stood up.

"Let's just wait for Uncle Scott," he suggested before glancing up at me. "He's putting the coffee on."

"Very smart," I nodded. "I think we're all going to need plenty of that today."

Grayson proved my point by grabbing at his balloons and waving them frantically, setting Dodger off barking again.

"Dodge!" Chris scolded. "It's just a balloon, buddy. Chill."

The poor overwhelmed dog hung his head and came over to me for some sympathy. I happily obliged, cooing some comforting words and rubbing his back.

"Gray, leave the balloons, okay?" I requested. "I don't think Dodger likes them."

Grayson frowned, but instantly let go of the balloon in his hand.

"Sorry, Dodger."

"It sounds like we have quite the party in here already," Scott commented as he sauntered into the room. "Shall we see what's in some of these boxes?"

"Yes! Yes!" Grayson cheered, running over to the presents. "What first?"

"Whatever you want," I told him, smiling as I went to sit on the couch next to Chris. "Do you need some help?"

"No, I can do it!" He insisted, making a bee line for the biggest box and quickly ripping the paper off.

We watched as he opened gift after gift, an ear to ear grin on his face the whole time. Just as he was at Christmas, he was incredibly grateful for every present from the Paw Patrol Lookout Tower that was almost as tall as he was to the dinosaur books that were more educational than flashy and fun.

But there was one gift at the bottom of the pile that Chris wasn't particularly impressed by. The one that my brother had sent.

Grayson opened it, pulling out a t-shirt first.

"What does it say?" He asked, holding up the shirt towards us.

Chris' jaw dropped as I stifled my giggles and Scott burst out laughing.

"It says 'Team Iron Man'," I read. "Remember how Uncle Rob was in a movie with Daddy where they had a big fight? Iron Man was Uncle Rob's character and I think Uncle Jack wants you to be on that team."

"Oh," Grayson smiled. "Okay!"

"Okay?!" Chris protested. "You don't want to be on my team?"

Grayson shrugged as he pulled something else out of the box from my brother.

"Look!" He shouted, his excitement clear as he held up a very fancy electronic Iron Man helmet. "I love it!"

I wasn't even sure that he knew what it was as he hadn't seen any of the movies yet, but his enthusiasm compared to Chris' displeasure was killing Scott and I.

"Oh, it's such a shame that your brother wasted his money," Chris said, his words dripping with sarcasm as he had a forced look of pity on his face. "Those things are expensive and Grayson is never going to wear it."

"I'll wear it!"

Grayson's insistence was followed by him putting the helmet on his head and another howl of laughter came from Scott as a look of betrayal crossed Chris' face.

"Your brother is a jerk."

His words were quiet so Grayson wouldn't hear and I smiled.

"What can I say?" I shrugged. "We're an Iron Man family..."

Chris shot me a glare, but turned his attention back to Gray.

"Well, if you don't want to be on my team then I guess I'll just have to find someone else to have the last present that I got for you..."

Chris was teasing, but Grayson whipped off the helmet faster than we could blink. He looked around, a puzzled expression on his face when he couldn't see anymore boxes on the floor and I shared his confusion as I wasn't aware of anymore gifts either. But the Evans brothers exchanged a knowing glance and I knew they were up to something.

"Maybe Miles would like it," Scott suggested. "He loves Captain America."

"Me too!" Grayson insisted, tossing the helmet aside as if it hadn't been his new prized possession moments ago. "He's my favourite!"

"Oh, is he now?" Chris laughed. "Doesn't take much to make you change your mind, does it?"

Grayson shook his head, oblivious to the fact that he was being teased, but Chris didn't torture him for too long.

"Alright, do you want to see what it is?"

"Yes, I do!"

Grayson leapt up, bouncing up and down with excitement, making Chris laugh as he stood up from the couch.

"C'mon then," he told Grayson, nodding his head towards the door. "It's this way."

Grayson scurried after his dad and I followed, my own curiosity piqued as well.

"What is it?" I asked Scott, but he just shot me a smirk.

"You'll see in a second."

I narrowed my eyes at his secrets and paused at the front door where Chris was waiting for us, his hand on the door knob as Grayson practically vibrated with excitement.

"Okay, close your eyes," Chris instructed. "No peeking!"

"I won't, I won't!"

Grayson covered his eyes as an extra assurance and Chris' grin widened even more as he swung open the door. I put my hands on Grayson's shoulders and guided him through it, seeing a shiny blue bike with a big bow on the handlebars. I felt a flash of worry at all the potential ways for Grayson to get hurt riding it, but there was no time to dwell on that as Chris told him to open his eyes and he gasped with excitement.

"A bike!" He squealed with joy, leaping off the doorstep and running towards it.

He circled it for a moment as if he was really trying to take it all in while I looked up at Chris.

"There better be a helmet with this present," I warned him. "I'm already imagining broken bones and missing teeth."

"He'll be fine," Chris assured me with a chuckle. "It has training wheels, but of course I got him a helmet."

I opened my mouth, ready to share some more potential disasters that could come from this - because even with training wheels he could still fall off or lose control and crash into a tree - but Grayson cut me off.

"Help me, Daddy! Help me!"

He was trying to climb onto the seat, but as I took in the sight of him barefoot in his pyjamas standing in the driveway, I stopped Chris as he moved towards him.

"Wait, why don't we have breakfast first?" I suggested. "We have all day to play on your bike, but you're not dressed or even wearing shoes..."

Grayson's face fell and I felt bad being the mean parent, but Chris nodded in agreement.

"Your Ma's right, Gray," he told him. "Let's go get ready and then we can come right back outside, okay?"

Grayson looked sulky, but reluctantly agreed as he walked back over to us.

"Hey now," Scott said, catching his attention. "No pouting on your birthday! We've got some chocolate chip pancakes to make! Unless that sad face means you don't want them anymore?"

His previous smile slid instantly back onto his face at the promise of such a sugary breakfast and the pep returned to his step as he grabbed Scott's hand before dragging him into the house.

I had no evidence to prove my theory, but by the time breakfast was over, I was almost certain that it would have been more relaxing to be in the middle of a hurricane. There was pancake batter all over the room and we practically had to pin Grayson to his chair to stop him from sprinting around the room with food in his mouth. It was a miracle that he got through the meal without choking.

It was impossible to be mad though when he was having such a good time. He'd had so much to adjust to lately, seeing him happy on his birthday was all that I wanted and I was willing to put up with a little more chaos than normal if it made that happen. Within reason, of course. I did stop him when he suggested that we put the entire bag of chocolate chips in the pancake batter and I did make him help me clean them up when he dumped them on the floor in protest of my ridiculous restrictions.

Once the breakfast circus was over, Chris whisked him off to get him ready to play outside while I helped Scott clean up the kitchen before going upstairs to shower and get ready myself.

When I came back down almost an hour later, I felt considerably less frazzled, but the sound of excited squeals and giggles echoing from outside told me the energy levels hadn't died down much. It really was a relief that he was having such a nice day though so I braced myself for more chaos and headed out to find them.

The sight that greeted me melted my heart completely.

Chris was running backwards across the driveway as Grayson rode towards him. He shouted encouragement the entire time, reminding him to keep pedaling and to look where he was going and cheering as Grayson rode past him before turning around and circling back.

"Look, Mama!" He shouted to me as he spotted me by the door. "I'm doing it!"

"You are, baby!" I smiled. "Good job!"

I sat on the doorstep and watched him ride in circles, proud of how fast he'd figured it out, but after a few moments, my attention turned to Chris.

There were few times since I'd known him when I'd seen him look as happy as he did in that moment. When Grayson was born, when he took his first steps and when he first said 'Dada' were probably the only comparable moments I could think of. He looked absolutely gleeful as he chased after Grayson, laughing as he passed him before dodging a different way and waiting for Gray to catch up before bolting off again. The sound of their giggles and shouts filled my heart so much that it genuinely felt like it was about to burst out of my chest and a feeling of contentedness hit me so hard that it almost knocked over.

It was a feeling that told me that they were all I ever needed. Those two boys, making each other dizzy as they ran in circles. Their happiness and love was all I could ever hope to have and moments like these were all I ever wanted to see. I wanted us to spend every weekend soaking in this kind of joy. I didn't want to fight and argue and transport Grayson back and forth every other week. I wanted to give Grayson what he deserved, I wanted us to be a family.

But as fast as that clarity hit me, the knots in my stomach were there to remind me that it wasn't just about what I wanted. It wasn't about what would bring us the most moments of delight, it was about what would provide Grayson with the most stability and being a family might do more harm to that goal than good.

It was a constant battle between my heart and my head, but I was starting to realize that my head was losing. I was clinging to my resistance with all I had, but it was slipping away. I knew I needed to talk to Chris, to sort out the fog in my brain, but for the time being, I pushed it out of my mind. This was Grayson's day and we didn't have time for anymore heart-wrenching conversations.

I was snapped out of my thoughts as Scott appeared from the side of the house on roller blades and the unexpected sight pulled a laugh from my lips as he sailed past Chris and Grayson and headed down the driveway.

"Gray, follow me!"

Gray nodded, frantically pedaling to catch up with his uncle as they sped off down the long drive. Chris watched them for a minute before jogging over to me.

"He got it so fast," he puffed as he fought to catch his breath. "He's a natural."

"The training wheels help," I pointed out, shielding my eyes from the sun as I looked up at him. "But it's fine because he'll be keeping those on until he's at least eighteen."

Chris barked out a laugh, shaking his head.

"No way," he smirked. "We'll have them off by next week."

"Not a chance. I need at least six months to get used to that idea."

"How about we meet in the middle and aim for three?"

"Hmm, maybe," I bit back a smile. "We'll have to see how many injuries he gets with the training wheels on first."

"He'll be fine. He's a champ," Chris grinned proudly. "We've got a pretty great kid."

"We do," I patted the step next to me as I made room for Chris to sit down. "I can't believe he's already three."

Chris accepted my silent invitation and sat down next to me.

"I know," he sighed. "It feels like just yesterday that he was born..."

"He was so tiny," I reminisced. "And you had those huge Captain America muscles."

Chris laughed as he nodded at the memory.

"I was so scared to hold him in case I accidentally crushed him."

"I was so scared of everything," I admitted. "It wasn't until he was actually born that it really hit me that we were completely responsible for his well-being and keeping him alive."

"We've done well with that though!"

"We have," I agreed with a smile. "He's alive and thriving."

"We make a good team."

He flashed me a warm smile that made my heart beat stutter and it almost stopped completely when he stretched out a hand and placed it on mine. His touch was gentle and the warmth of his skin flooded through me even more than the sun streaming down on us. It was a simple gesture, but it eased the heaviness that had been hovering between us lately and I was grateful. I carefully flipped my hand over so our palms pressed together and let our fingers interlace. His smile widened as he looked back out at the driveway, his eyes settling on Grayson in the distance who was laughing at something Scott said.

"Thank you," Chris sighed, his voice quiet and filled with genuine appreciation. "I don't think I've ever said it, but thank you for making me a dad."

His words almost brought tears to my eyes, but I shook my head.

"Chris, you don't need to than-"

"I do," he insisted, cutting me off. "He's the best thing that ever happened to me and he wouldn't be here without you."

"I could say the same," I pointed out, trying to ignore the way his thumb was stroking the back of my hand. "He gets most of his good traits from you too. His kind heart, his sensitive little soul, his loyalty."

"His infuriating stubbornness."

"He gets that from both of us," I smiled. "He didn't stand a chance with that one."

"Well, I hope he gets some of your selflessness," Chris informed me, glancing over and looking a tad sheepish. "Because, as much as I disagree with it and I wish you'd be a little selfish, I get that you're trying to look out for him."

I felt my palms start to sweat and I wondered if he could feel it. I resisted the urge to snatch my hand away from his, trying to play it cooler than I felt. He was watching me closely as I mulled over his words until I found the strength to speak.

"I'm not so sure that it's just him that I'm trying to look out for," I admitted, exhaling a breath that I didn't realize I was holding. "I do think we have more to talk about, Chris, but I don't think this is the right time."

"You're right," he nodded. "I just felt like I owed you an apology after the other night. I let my feelings get the best of me and I came across a little harsh."

I was about to reassure him that he hadn't when the sound of honking interrupted our conversation. Our attention was pulled to the end of the driveway where two cars - belonging to Chris' mom and his sister - were pulling in as Scott moved Grayson and Dodger off to the side to let them past.

"Did you know they were coming?" I asked, surprised by the little motorcade.

"Nah, I had no idea," Chris shrugged. "We'll stay outside though, keep our distance."

I wasn't worried about that really, I knew all of Chris' family were staying very isolated and being smart about staying safe and we were technically allowed to have outdoor gatherings of up to ten people anyway with the current rules in place. I was surprised to see them though as we'd warned Grayson that he would only get to see most of his family over FaceTime. His excitement at that being untrue was clear as he frantically pedaled back up the driveway to greet his guests.

"Mama! Daddy! Look!"

I let Chris' hand fall away from mine as we stood, smiling at Grayson's excitement as everyone started getting out of their cars. They burst into a rousing chorus of 'Happy Birthday' making Gray's grin grow even more.

"Happy birthday, Grayson!" Lisa beamed as Grayson ran towards her full speed. He threw his arms around her legs before we could even remind him to keep his distance, but Lisa seemed unbothered by it. "Have you had a good day so far?"

"Yes!" Gray smiled up at her. "I got a bike!"

"I saw that!" Lisa matched his enthusiasm. "You're a lucky boy!"

Grayson shot her another smile before turning his attention to his cousins.

"Wanna try?"

His older cousins were probably too big, but Stella's hand shot up first and beat them to it anyway.

"That's really nice of you to share," I called over to Grayson. "But share your helmet too, okay?"

He nodded and struggled with the clip for a few minutes before Lisa helped him take it off and placed it on her granddaughter's head.

Once they were all happy, chasing Stella and Dodger around the drive way, the adults moved over towards us. Lisa was the first to speak, a guilty look on her face.

"I hope you don't mind us just showing up like this, but we couldn't stay away on his birthday..."

"It's great!" Chris assured her. "Don't worry about it."

"And Grayson seems thrilled," I added. "It's nice for him to have other kids to run around with for a bit."

We all turned to watch them as they played until Carly let out a laugh.

"Are Grayson's shoes on the wrong feet?"

I hadn't even noticed, but I laughed as well when I realized that she was right.

"Some days just getting him in shoes at all is a victory," Chris defended himself. "And today was one of those days."

"He's like the energizer bunny this morning," Scott joked. "I can't imagine what he'll be like after we get some cake into him."

"Just think how well he'll sleep tonight," Carly pointed out. "He has to crash eventually."

"I hope so," Chris smiled. "He had me up at six o'clock this morning, I need an early night."

That earned a laugh from the group as his siblings teased him about being such an old man, but I felt a pang of sympathy for him, knowing that he'd been up early with Grayson a lot lately. Maybe it was because we were at his house so it was what Gray was used to, but Chris was definitely the favourite for the early morning wake up call.

We stood in our little circle for a while, just catching up as we watched the kids, all of us enjoying conversation with someone other than the people we were locked up with twenty-four hours a day. It was nice for me to have some female company as well even though Lisa was very pleased to hear that her boys were pulling their weight around the house and not just treating me like some kind of live-in maid.

It didn't take long for the kids to get tired of sharing the bike, especially the older boys who were too big for it anyway, and soon they were swarming around us demanding that we all play a game. After being cooped up for so long, it didn't seem like a bad idea to get us all moving around a little so we agreed and set about the daunting task of finding something everyone was willing to play.

Eventually, we settled on capture the flag - girls against boys. Lisa decided she'd make a better referee than a player so the boys team had one extra member, but they had three children to our one so it hardly seemed like the extra person would cause any unbalance.

The rules of the game were simple: each team had three flags in our 'end zone' at opposite ends of the large grassy part of Chris' yard and the other team had to try to steal those flags. We had to grab it and run it all the way back to our own end zone to score a point, but once it was safely 'captured' it couldn't be stolen back. If someone managed to snatch a flag, but was tagged on their way back to their end zone then they had to give the flag back.

Lisa was very firm in reminding her children that tackling was not allowed as the Evans siblings were fiercely competitive and it had apparently led to trouble over the years. Once the rules were all set, we took our places and started the game.

The teams were fairly evenly matched. The boys had more strength, but we had more agility and were much better at communicating and working together which led to us easily scoring the first point. While Stella distracted Scott, Carly snuck past him to snatch the flag and she tossed it to Shanna who faked a pass to Stella before throwing it to me to get it to the safe zone. It was a beautifully executed play that showed the boys we weren't messing around.

"Oh, it's on now," Chris called out as he sprinted past me.

Shanna bolted after him, but he managed to grab the flag and throw it to Ethan before she caught up. With all the other boys guarding him, he made it all the way back to their end zone without getting tagged.

"I think having a super soldier on your team is an unfair advantage ," Carly huffed, but Chris shook his head with a smirk.

"Nah, because we have Scott too so it balances out."

"Hey!" Scott protested. "I'll switch teams if you're going to be rude!"

Stella jumped for joy at that idea, pleading with him to come onto our side, but the rest of the boys voiced their protests and he decided that, as long as there was no more hurtful comments, he would stick to his team for now. I used their bickering as a distraction though as I snuck closer towards their unguarded flags. I managed to grab one before Scott noticed and called out a warning to the rest of his team, but when I took off running and Grayson charged towards me, I didn't have the heart to out run him on his special day. I slowed down enough that he wouldn't realize I was letting him win and groaned dramatically as he tagged me, making me give up the flag.

"I did it!" He cheered. "Daddy! Did you see? I did it!"

Stella had a disappointed scowl on her face, but everyone else was understanding as they watched Chris scoop him up onto his shoulders, chanting his name as if he'd just won the World Cup while he carried him back to replace the flag.

Their celebration was short-lived though as we managed to steal the flag again almost as soon as Chris and Grayson were far enough away from it. After another perfectly executed play, the score was sitting at 2-1 for us. The pressure was on after that as we only needed one more point to win, it ramped up the competitive spirit.

We were off to a great start in the next round. Shanna got the flag quickly, but Scott had her cornered almost immediately so she tossed it to me. I got about ten steps before Chris was on my heels and I was forced to throw it over to Carly. Chris turned and went to chase after her instead and without even thinking, I leapt on his back to stop him.

"Hey!" He protested, slowing to a stop despite how he was clearly unaffected by my weight. "Is anyone seeing this? This has got to be a foul! She tackled me!"

"I did not tackle you!" I insisted, clinging to his shoulders with my legs wrapped around his waist. "If it was a tackle, you'd be on the ground."

Chris wiggled around, trying to throw me off his back as Carly sauntered into our end zone with the flag.

"The only reason I'm not on the ground is because you're too weak," Chris argued before shouting to his mom. "That doesn't count!

"No, Mama," Grayson joined in, running over to us looking very disapproving. "No cheating!"

I laughed, but slid down from Chris' back.

"Sorry, I'm sorry!" I held my hands up as I apologized. "I can't outrun Captain America, I had no choice!"

"Well, now you lost the point," Chris teased me, shoving me playfully and making me stumble a step away from him. "So, lets keep it fair and stop trying to cheat."

I swatted back at him as I stuck out my tongue while Lisa made the official call that the point didn't count and Scott took the recently captured flag back to the boy's end zone.

Chris had a new twinkle in his eye as the next round started. He hadn't let me get very far away from him and I quickly realized that I'd made a mistake by antagonizing him. I would be useless to my team if he was on my tail the whole time, but he was a tank and incredibly fast so getting away from him was next to impossible. I watched helplessly as Scott and Miles easily took our flag and dashed it back to their end zone to tie the score.

"Chris!" I whined as I tried to get around him like I was a cornered puppy, trying not to get caught. "Get away from me, you big oaf!"

"Oh, wow," Chris chuckled. "Let's not start calling names and being mean."

I tried to dart past him again, but groaned as he blocked my path.

"You're infuriating!"

"It's all part of the game."

The smirk on Chris' face had my competitive side firing up as I could see behind him that Miles had snatched our last flag. Stella was hot on his heels though, so he had no choice, but to pass to Grayson who was coming our way. Was I going to stop my three year old son from scoring the game winning point on his birthday? Probably not. But I had to at least make my attempt genuine so I came up with a plan.

"Is that..." I squinted off into the distance on the other side of the yard. "Is that Dodger chasing a cat?"

My Oscar worthy performance had Chris spinning around to check out what I saw and it gave me enough time to bolt away towards Grayson who wasn't far away from winning the game for his team. I made it an impressive five steps before Chris figured out what I'd done and came after me. Grayson saw what was happening and dodged to the left so I followed, but my change of direction gave Chris an opportunity. The next thing I knew, I felt a crash against my hips before I was lifted from the ground and found myself dangling over Chris' shoulder.

I let out a squeal of surprise as I kicked my legs, trying to get down, but Chris had a tight grip on me and there was no getting away. The ease with which he threw me around wasn't at all distracting and there wasn't a single part of me that was revelling in his strength. Not at all.

"This is absolutely a tackle!" I protested, focusing my mind back onto my predicament. "Put me down!"

"If this was a tackle, you'd be on the ground," he mocked me. "This is payback."

I had a nice view, my head only inches above 'America's ass' so, swept up in the moment of playfulness between us, I reached down and gave it a smack. He yelped and jumped, shaking me as he did.

"Chris! Put me down!"

My demands were weakened by the giggles that I couldn't hold back, but thankfully Scott stepped in to help me regain some dignity.

"Alright, you two," he called over. "Can we get back to the game now or would you like us all to give you some time alone?"

A blush covered my cheeks as I remembered that his entire family was around us and was relieved when he lowered me to the ground.

"Games over," Chris called back. "Grayson scored!"

Grayson jumped up and down happily, but Stella had a scowl on her face.

"Nuh uh! When Whitney tackled you, it didn't count!" She pointed out. "Grayson's point doesn't count too!"

The joy on Grayson's face fell into a look of anger as he stomped his foot at his cousin’s claim.

"It does!" He insisted. "I did it!"

"Now look what you've done," I playfully scolded Chris quietly before shouting to the rest of the group. "I think we're going to have to let them have the point, ladies. I wouldn't have been able to catch up to Grayson even if Chris didn't cheat..."

Stella's jaw dropped in clear shock that I hadn't supported her protests, but to stop the war before it could start, Chris chimed in.

"Grayson didn't need my help to score that point, I shouldn't have interfered," he started. "But why don't we call it a game and go have some cake?!"

The promise of sugar seemed to quash any animosity between the teams as all the kids let out a shriek of approval at that suggestion and took off running back to the house.

"Oh, yes," Carly sighed. "Because what my children clearly need right now is more energy..."

"It's Gray's birthday," Chris shrugged with a smile as we all followed the children at a much more reasonable pace. "We have to have cake!"

"And if it wasn't his birthday then I wouldn't have let you win."

My taunting earned a bark of laughter from Chris.

"Let us win? Yeah, sure, okay. You just keep telling yourself that you're faster and stronger than me," he teased. "Whatever makes you feel better."

I shoved him, but he was braced for it and I ended up more affected by the impact than him which proved his point, putting a smirk on his face.

"Asshole," I muttered as I shook my head, but I couldn't hold back a smile at how nice our affectionate teasing felt.

By the end of the day, we were all exhausted. It had been a fun and very special day for Grayson so we were thrilled for him, but exhausted nonetheless. Gray fought his bedtime with all the will power he had, eager for the day to go on just a little bit longer, but we won out in the end and he made it to bed on time. Scott had gone to his own room while we were fighting with him and Chris and I parted ways shortly after to get some much needed quiet time of our own.

I found myself distracted though, when I was finally alone, as the importance of the day had me feeling sentimental. Watching Grayson grow up and hit these milestones was a joy, but it left me feeling a bit reminiscent of the years gone by. Years when he was even smaller than he was now, just starting to figure out the world and how to speak, walk and be a part of it. The time was really flying by and as I began to scroll through old videos of his first year of life, the nostalgia was almost too much to bear.

Eventually, I stumbled on a video that had distinct parallels of today.

It was a video of Grayson's first birthday when we'd given him his own little cake and let him go to town on it. Of course, as many babies do, he'd stared at it for a moment before smashing his face directly into it. It was adorable and tugged on my heart strings considering how comparatively neat his cake consumption was earlier that day. He'd grown so much in such a short time and I felt compelled to share my discovery with Chris so I dragged myself out of bed and crept down to his room.

There was a fluttering of nerves in my stomach as I knocked on his bedroom door, the feeling only growing as he called out an invitation to come inside. I did as he'd asked and let myself in, finding him leaning back against the headboard of his bed - wearing nothing but his pajama pants - with his own phone in his hand.

"Hey," he smiled. "What's up?"

"I found a video," I told him, standing awkwardly near the foot of his bed. "I was feeling a little sad about how fast Gray is growing up so I was looking back, watching old videos and I found one that I thought you might like to see."

Chris’ smile widened and he eagerly patted the bed next to him, encouraging me to sit. I took him up on his offer and settled in as I unlocked my phone and started the video.

"He was so little..."

Chris' observation came as the camera settled on Gray where he sat in his high chair. Chris was right next to him, a grin on his face as he chatted happily to our son despite the nonsense babble that he got in response. I appeared on the screen after a few moments, carrying a tiny cake as everyone started to sing Happy Birthday. Grayson had a look of confusion on his face as he looked around at the crowd, but his eyes widened when the cake was placed in front of him.

"Go on, Gray," I prompted once the singing had stopped. "You can taste it."

He needed no more encouragement and simply face planted right into it, popping up a moment later with blue icing from the tops of his eyebrows to the bottom of his chin. He had a huge, cheeky grin on his face as he looked at us and, just as he did in the video, Chris laughed next to me.

"Oh, man, it kills you, doesn't it?" He questioned before clarifying. "How cute he is."

I hadn't realized that Chris' arm had found its way behind me when he leaned in to watch until I felt his breath on my hair as he spoke and I couldn't resist leaning back, tucking myself under his shoulder. The whole day, the knowledge that my baby was growing up, had me needing some comfort. It was exciting, to see him learn and shift from a baby to a little person, but at the same time, I felt the overwhelming urge for time to stop.

"It does," I agreed, letting my phone fall to the bed beside me. "I can't believe how much he's changed since then."

"In some ways," Chris agreed, looking down at me with a smirk. "In others, he's still that goofy, reckless baby."

"If he's anything like you, he'll probably never grow out of being goofy and reckless."

I felt Chris' shoulders shake as he chuckled at my teasing and I was reminded of the last time we'd been cuddled up, in a similar position to this, in his bed. I felt a flood of warmth run through my body at the memory as I was suddenly aware of how close we were, aware of how good he smelt and how strong his hard muscled arm felt as I leaned against it.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"I meant it as one," I assured him. "I like that you're goofy. Your recklessness used to give me anxiety sometimes, when you'd always insist that you just had to do your own stunts on Captain America as if you really thought you were a super soldier, but I like that you're willing to take risks."

"Awe, gee, Whitney," he teased, squeezing me closer against him. "It was nice of you to worry about me."

"Of course I worried," I rolled my eyes. "Your muscles are bigger than your brain sometimes."

"Not anymore..." Chris held up the arm that wasn't currently around me and flexed his muscles, showing off a bicep that was still much larger than most even if it wasn't quite up to the Avengers standard. "I'm out of shape."

Against my own best interest, I turned slightly, letting my hand drift up towards his arm as my head fell against his chest. I traced over the bulging muscle and watched as tiny goosebumps rose up on his skin at the sensation. Skin that felt so soft under my touch and I felt his breath shift as he clearly felt the mood between us change the same way that I did. I felt emboldened by how amorous our emotional day had left me as I let my head tip back to find him looking down at me with the same intensity he had a few months ago.

My breath caught in my throat and I couldn't help myself. Despite every alarm bell going off inside my brain, I stretched up just enough to press my lips against his. For a moment, he relaxed. His shoulders dropped as my fingers curled around the arm they were just stroking, but then suddenly his entire body tensed as if he'd been shocked by a bolt of electricity. He jerked away, sliding out from under me and off the bed before I could even realize what was happening.

"No," he said firmly, pointing his finger at me the same way he did to Dodger when he was being naughty. "No, no, we're not doing this again. Not until we talk about it what's going on here."

I felt the sting of rejection so harshly that it almost brought tears to my eyes, but I knew he was right.

"I'm sorry," I squeaked out, my cheeks burning. "You're right. I shouldn't have done that."

My voice was shaking as I scrambled to stand up, the stunned look on Chris' face only adding to my embarrassment. We stood there, staring at each other with the bed between us, but he didn't speak and after a few moments of silence, my shame was overwhelming, kicking my flight instincts into gear.

"I'll go," I mumbled. "Sorry again."

I didn't wait for a response before darting towards the door, but Chris' voice stopped me before I could make my escape.

"Whitney, stop." He didn't shout, but his tone was firm and demanding enough that I froze on the spot. "We need to talk about this. We can't keep going on with it hanging above our heads."

I turned to face him, discovering that he'd moved closer and was standing by the foot of the bed. He was still a few feet away from me, but close enough that it felt almost suffocating and I bit my lip as I stared at his feet, unable to look him in the eye.

"I don't know what to say..."

"I can take it," he insisted, a hint of resignation in voice as he continued. "You've had plenty of time to think it over since our last conversation and you said earlier today that we needed to talk. If you're gonna turn me down, put whatever this is to bed, just do it now and get it over with."

I furrowed my brow in confusion at his words, my heart beating in my chest so fast that I could hear the blood pumping through my ears.

"Turn you down?" I questioned. "Why do you think I'm going to turn you down? I just kissed you."

"That didn't mean much at Christmas."

He had a very valid point and I felt another pang of guilt at how badly I was treating him. I was hot and cold, affectionate and withdrawn, unwavering in my decision one minute and unsteady the next. I hadn't spared much thought to how cruel that was and now that I'd realized, I couldn't hold back the frustrated groan that fell from my lips.

"I don't know what to do, Chris! I think I know what the right decision is. It's what always felt like the safer choice, but then there are times when that's just..." I paused, taking in a deep breath to work up a dash of courage. "It's not what I want."

Chris watched me closely as if choosing his next words very carefully.

"If the safer choice isn't what you want then it sounds like maybe you need to take a risk. You can't live your life making decisions out of fear."

My eyes narrowed. He was over simplifying the situation. That way of thinking might work if it was just the two of us, but with Gray in the middle, things were more complicated.

"It's not that straight forward."

I shook my head as I spoke, but Chris countered with a nod.

"Sure, it is," he shrugged before asking a question that almost stopped my heart. "Do you love me?"

I stared at him, opening my mouth to speak and then closing it again when the words didn't come. I stood there, gaping at him like some kind of ridiculous puffer fish, until I finally got a word out.

"What?"

A smirk slid onto Chris' face at my floundering as he repeated the question.

"Do you love me?" He asked. "And don't say it doesn't matter or it's not important. Just yes or no."

I stared at him for a moment longer as a war between my head and heart raged inside me. Deny, deny, deny was what my head was screaming, but in the end the quiet reminder of now or never from my heart was what won out.

"Yes, I do," I admitted, proud of my voice for not breaking. "I always have."

There was a grin on Chris' face now, but my stomach churned because it didn't mean anything. As I said, I'd loved him all along and yet here we were, no better off.

"That's all that matters then," he insisted. "We can figure out the rest."

"But what if we can't figure it out?" I protested, crossing my arms as if I could somehow fold into myself and disappear completely. "What if it's nice for a while and then it all comes crashing down around us? What about Gray?"

He shrugged again. His whole demeanour miles away from my own. He seemed confident, hopeful, almost excited while I felt nauseous, terrified and paralyzed by fear.

"But what if it doesn't? What if it all works out nicely? Why are you so convinced that we wouldn't last?"

"Because you're you," I reminded him, my tone flat as I stated the obvious. "Hollywood super star, Chris Evans. And I'm me, a boring nobody. You could have pretty much any famous actress you want, the only person who wants to be with me is the creepy maintenance worker in our apartment building."

Chris looked taken aback as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"What? I've never heard about this guy."

"He's just some weird guy who does the repairs," I shrugged. "He comments on my outfits and looks at me in this way that makes my skin crawl, but he's harmless."

"Doesn't sound harmless to me," Chris argued, crossing his arms as a thunderous look settled on his face. "Does he have access to your place?"

"No!" I assured him, but after my quick answer I realized that I wasn't so sure. "Well, I don't know. He might have a spare key, I guess. If most maintenance people do? They have to give me notice before they enter the apartment anyway."

"Unless he's sneaking in to perv on you."

"Chris! That's gross!" I wrinkled my nose in disgust. "Why would you put that thought in my head?!"

"I told you that you should have let me buy you a house," Chris huffed. "You're moving when all this covid shit is over."

"Oh my god," I groaned having flashbacks to our conversation a few weeks ago about him buying me a car. "All of this is so beside the point! We're talking about how you'd get bored of me and leave me heartbroken for some flashy Hollywood babe, remember?"

"Right," Chris nodded, letting his arms fall to his side. "But that's such a ridiculous idea that I thought it was hardly worth acknowledging."

His dismissal of one of my biggest fears sent a flash of anger through me.

"How is it ridiculous?" I snapped. "It's true!"

"You know me, Whitney," Chris sighed. "You know that my team had to practically force me into doing Captain America because I had one foot out the door of the whole acting gig and I hated the way Hollywood made me feel. Do you really think that I would give up a chance at a having family with you, someone who I really care about, for some wild, short-lived fling?"

His tone conveyed his disbelief, but he hadn't quite accurately interpreted what I meant.

"I think you'd regret it," I clarified. "I think that once the initial excitement wore off, you'd see that I'm nothing special and that I don't fit in your world."

Chris was looking at me as if I'd grown an extra head and I crossed my arms a little tighter around myself.

"We were friends long before Grayson came around and I've always thought that you were something special. Where is all this insecurity coming from, Whitney? Because I just don't get it."

I swallowed hard as I bit my lip. I felt incredibly vulnerable and the urge to run away and continue ignoring all my feelings seemed much preferable to standing here and analyzing them all, but I stayed strong. We were both adults and this was the only way to move forward. Whether it ended how Chris wanted or not, he deserved to know how I felt.

"I spent a long time convincing myself that you didn't care about me as anything more than a friend. I told myself that it was an insane idea because we're in two very different leagues so there was no point getting my hopes up. Then that night happened and I thought that maybe I'd been wrong, that it could be the start of a really good thing, but then you were gone by the time I woke up and you never called."

I barely choked out the last few words as I fought back the tears that were swimming in my eyes. An unmistakable look of guilt flashed onto Chris' face and he opened his mouth to comment, perhaps to defend himself, but I held up a hand to stop him. I needed to get it out or I never would.

"Then three weeks later, I found out I was pregnant," I continued. "I assumed from your silence that you didn't want to be with me and I knew that we were good together as friends so I kept my feelings to myself and spent the last three and a half years beating myself up for thinking for even one second that you would want to be with me."

"I did want to be with you..."

Chris was looking at me with those puppy dog eyes that he'd mastered and I sniffled as a tear slipped down my cheek.

"I know that now, but I can't just turn those thoughts off."

Chris sighed and rubbed his hands over his face before holding out his arms.

"C'mere."

I shook my head, wiping my tears as I worried that I'd fall apart completely if I stepped into his arms, but when he persisted and gestured me over again, I couldn't resist. I took the few steps needed to close the space between us and let my arms slide around his waist. He hugged me close to his body, burying his face in my hair as pressed mine into his muscled chest. We stayed like that for a few moments until Chris broke the silence.

"I'm sorry. I was an idiot," he apologized, his words muffled by my hair. "I should have fought for you. At the very least, I should have stayed until you woke up and I should have called, but I was scared too."

I felt more tears fill my eyes as I choked out a soft "I know".

Another silence fell between us before Chris spoke again, his words making my heart almost stop completely.

"I was going to propose." I pulled back at that confession, my eyes wide as I looked up at him unable to process his words fast enough to speak before he continued. "I called my mom up as soon as you told me you were pregnant. I wanted her to help me pick out a ring, but she talked me out of it. Said you'd think I was doing it for all the wrong reasons."

My heart fluttered back to life at the sincerity in his admission, but I nodded my head.

"Your mom is a smart lady," I told him. "I absolutely would have thought you were only doing it because you felt you had to."

"It wasn't out of obligation though," he insisted. "Maybe I was getting a bit ahead of myself leaping straight to marriage, but I cared about you. It was an opportunity to make it official, make that commitment and be a family. That's what I wanted."

I stayed quiet, resting my head back against his chest as I tried to take in all this new information. It was a lot to process especially when it directly contradicted the belief I had clung to for so long - that Chris and I would never work and for Grayson's sake we were better off apart. That assumption was so deeply embedded in my brain that it was hard to find the courage to take such a risk.

As if Chris could sense my lingering indecision, he continued.

"It's still what I want," he said softly. "Being here these last few weeks with you and Grayson as a family has been a dream come true. I wouldn't give it up for anything or do anything to jeopardize it if you'd just give me a shot."

The word 'okay' was so close to the tip of my tongue that it shocked me.

That was all I had to do, just open my mouth and agree and he would be mine.

My heart was pleading with me to do it, to take that leap and ignore any of the arguments against it that were running through my mind - especially now that those arguments seemed much less sound than they had a few short weeks ago. I was so conflicted that it almost physically pained me to have to make a decision and I couldn't help, but wonder how he could be so certain.

So, I leaned back and tilted my head so my eyes could meet his.

"How can you be so sure?" I questioned. "After how things have been these last few years, how can you be so confident in your feelings?"

"Because I love you," he told me plainly and with unwavering surety. "If you tell me right now that it's not what you want, then I'll accept your decision. But if there's a hint of a chance, then I'll wait as long as I need to. I've been waiting for years, thinking that I didn't even have a shot, I think I can wait a little longer now that I know that I might."

It was another heart wrenchingly honest explanation, another vulnerable admission, and something in the openness with which he spoke made me realize that over the last three years he had done nothing to earn any distrust from me. Even after the fallout from Christmas, he'd put his hurt feelings and pride aside to make things easier for me. He'd been sincere during every discussion we'd had since then and hadn't been cruel or impatient about my indecision. I had no reason at all, other than my own fear and insecurities, to assume that he was going to break my heart and tear apart our family.

He deserved a little bit of trust from me as well and a clarity washed over me as I finally knew what I had to do.

There were words I could have said, probably should have said, but I didn't feel like there was anything that would accurately portray how I was feeling. I settled for a more direct approach as I pressed up onto my toes and let my lips fall against his.

He tensed at first and for a brief, heart stopping moment, I thought he might push me away again, but he didn't. He relaxed, pulling me closer as my hands slid to cup his neck.

It was a soft kiss. A gentle, loving kiss, that I hoped conveyed what I couldn't figure out how to say. But when our lips parted and he leaned down to rest his forehead on mine, there was a concern in his eyes that told me I wasn't going to get away with it that easily.

"What does that mean?"

I bit my lip, staring up past his long eyelashes into his eyes. There was still a tiny voice in my head telling me to run, to stop being so foolish and leave now before I made a mistake, but my heart had found its footing now and wasn't going to back down. Listening to my head all this time hadn't made things any easier, so it was time to try something else.

"It means," I started, taking in a shaky breath. "I don't want to keep you waiting anymore."

Chris let out a breath of relief as a tentative smile slid onto his face.

"Really? You're sure?"

I swallowed hard and nodded my head.

"Yes," I breathed out, my voice thick with all the emotions swirling through me.

He dipped his head a touch lower until our lips were reconnected. It was a deeper kiss, more desperate than the first as his tongue slid against mine and his grip tightened on my waist, my nails scraping against the fuzz of his recently cut hair. I caved into him, clinging to him like he was a lifeboat in a storm until he pulled back to take a breath.

My chest heaved against his, the adrenaline of his touch and what this finally meant, almost too much to handle. I settled back down, flat on my feet and nuzzled my face back into his chest as I fought to calm my racing mind and just enjoy the moment.

"You really mean it?" Chris asked again, the shakiness of his voice filling me with another pang of guilt. "You really want to give this a try?"

"I mean it," I nodded against him. "Doesn't mean my concerns have all vanished in the last five minutes, but I...I think I need to trust you."

"I won't let you down," he murmured into my hair as he pulled me even closer. Another silence fell between us until I broke it with an embarrassingly large yawn and Chris' chest shook as he chuckled. "Do you wanna sleep down here tonight?"

As soon as he'd asked the question, it suddenly hit me how exhausted I was. Even just the thought of walking upstairs seemed like an impossible task when there was such an inviting, comfortable bed only steps away from where I stood. But a thought popped into my head that I couldn't ignore and I turned my head slightly so I wasn't speaking directly into Chris' muscles.

"What about Gray?" I asked. "He always comes to you in the morning..."

"Would it matter?"

His tone wasn't accusing or annoyed, but genuinely curious as sharing a child did add a strange new element to all this. I didn't really know what the best way to handle it was since Grayson didn't really understand our relationship or know how a typical family was set up anyway, but it didn't seem like the best way to introduce him to the idea.

"I think we should talk to him about it instead of just letting him stumble on us in bed together," I suggested. "But I think maybe we should wait a while?"

Chris' face fell as the look of worry returned.

"You want to keep this a secret?"

"I didn't mean it like that," I shook my head. "You can tell whoever you want, but I think we should figure things out, make sure things are stable between us before we try to explain it to Gray."

"Alright, that's fair," Chris agreed before leaning down to place another soft kiss on my lips. "I'll wake you up before he comes down."

"Okay," I nodded as I let my thumb stroke his cheek.

We reluctantly slipped out of each other's arms, but it was a brief separation as we climbed into opposite sides of the bed. Once we'd turned the lights off, we met in the middle and he pulled me back against his chest, letting me hook my leg over his hip as we settled against each other.

Chris ran a hand up and down my spine as he nuzzled in my hair.

"This feels nice..."

"It does," I hummed. With the darkness around us, the quiet that had settled in, I felt encouraged to say something that I'd felt I should have said long ago. "I'm sorry, Chris."

I felt him tense.

"For what?"

"For messing you around so much," I admitted. "Especially at Christmas...that wasn't cool."

"If I had expectations, I should have laid them out before anything happened." His answer sounded rehearsed, as if he'd spent a long time convincing himself of that fact. I wasn't entirely sure it was a fair statement, but he continued before I could question it. "I can understand where you were coming from, but I promise I won't hurt you."

I felt a pang of uncertainty because that wasn't always a promise that could be kept, but the sincerity in his voice gave me hope. I placed a soft kiss against his chest as his hands slid up under the loose shorts I was wearing to cup my bum.

"I love you," I mumbled against his skin.

"I love you too," he replied, making a feeling of warmth flood through me. "Thank you for giving me a chance."

I sighed happily as my exhaustion had my eyes fluttering shut. I wanted to stay awake, to keep this moment before the brightness of the morning could bring any doubts or second guesses, but I was powerless to resist as sleep overtook me.

Part Five

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