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#you ever just lay in your bed for twelve hours straight crying
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290 Song Lyric Prompts
This is months of work, FIVE different "Volumes" (Playlists). I have combined all of my previous Song Lyric Prompts into one post, one list. I hope you enjoy. They are separated by Volume because tumblr yelled at me :)
Playlists:
[Volume One]
[Volume Two]
[Volume Three]
[Volume Four]
[Volume Five]
Volume One
 “Drive this car through the drive thru please”
“Dirty laundry looks good on you”
 “Where’s the dotted line at?”
 “Are there windows in heaven?”
 “Bought you a twelve pack, promised you sushi”
 “I want to take you to a gay bar”
 “I’m in love with the girl I hate”
 “It’s been a while since I’ve felt butterflies”
 “One day you’ll know who you want to be”
 “You ain’t nothing but a prick”
 “You’re not in love with me”
 “I wanna kiss you every minute, every hour, every day”
 “On second thought, forget it, that one turns out kind of cool”
 “Honey, I’ve got real bad news”
 “I heard that rock is dead and cellphones give you cancer”
 “It will be worth it, everything you went through”
 “They’ve never drove through Indiana”
 “You’re my song, my sweet home Alabama”
 “You’ve got so many options, every fish in the sea wants to kiss you”
 “Relationships, I don’t know why, they never work out and they make you cry but the guy who says goodbye to you is out of his mind”
 “My family is dysfunctional but we have a good time killing each other”
 “I fell in love in the back of a cop car”
 “You don’t have to worry”
 “I’m still having nightmares”
 “I flashback to the night in your parents yard when we drank too much and we talked about God”
 “We’re gonna make it if takes all night”
 “She’s my kind of crazy”
 “Who says you can’t go home?”
“Fist fights turn into sex, I wonder what comes next?”
 “If I were a boomerang, I’d turn around and come back to you”
 “It’ll still be two days till I say I’m sorry”
 “Remember when you broke your foot jumping out the second floor?”
 “There’s room for two, six feet under the stars”
 “Oh god, I did the wrong thing to the right girl”
 “When it comes to condoms, put two on”
 “I won’t give up on us”
 “I’m a bit too pop for punk kids, but I’m too punk for the pop kids”
 “We don’t have trouble sleeping”
 “Daddy’s little girl knows how to party”
 “A days worth of bitching goes down the drain when you lay in my bed and pick my brain.
 “Wrong name, my mistake”
42. “Being us feels good to us”
 “It’s not high school, man, you graduated six years ago”
 “A few drinks in, here I go missing you again”
 “There’s something about the way our bedsheets turn religion upside down”
 “And I’ve made mistakes, but you were not one”
 “I swear to god, I never fall in love”
 “I miss the way you breathe, the way you twitch in your sleep. Your smile, your straight teeth and the scars along on your cheeks”
 “When you talk, its in cursive to me. And it’s nicer than anything I’d ever believe about me”
 “I don’t mind if you fuck up my life”
 “Make a man feel rich on minimum wage”
 “You broke my heart and all I got was this t shirt”
 “You ask “When did I first know?” I always knew”
 “You’re kind of hipster, I grew up on punk rock”
 “Made a rebel of a careless man’s careful daughter”
 “And all my friends don’t give a fuck”
 “We’ll talk about how your parents separated and how you don’t want to make the same mistakes as them”
 “Is it really your anxiety that stops you from giving me everything?”
 “Leave your sorrys, grab your car keys.”
 “I’d unfuck you if I could”
 “You say you love me, I know you love me. Love that you love me, baby”
 “I lose my voice when I look at you, can’t make a noise though I’m trying to”
 “Now with my eyes wide open, it’s heaven in your arms”
 “I know that you’re in pain but if we die at the same time does it still scare you?”
 “I can make you laugh ‘til you cry, but she can make your tears dry”
 “I hope a heart only breaks this bad once in a lifetime”
 “I didn't call you back because I was learning to dance”
 “Sometimes I just want to tell you about my day”
 “Yes my fucking nails are painted, what you think I didn’t know?”
 “Mama tried to raise me right, but she couldn’t raise the hell out of me”
 “Dancing in the dark ‘til the sun comes, tangled in the sheets ‘til the days done”
 “I take a drink ‘cause the truth is hard to swallow”
 “Big heads up, that’s a really stupid plan”
 “We used to kiss all night, now it’s just a bar fight”
 “What’s the point of going out when you could just give me a call”
 “I didn’t know I was broken until I wanted to change”
 “We have something worth remembering”
 “I fell in love with the girl at the rock show”
 “And I just can’t stop thinking of you, wherever you are"
"I never wanna leave this sunset town
Volume Two
“Do you ever get a little bit tired of life?”
“Will you even look back when you think of me?”
“Somebody’s gonna love you. Take all the dark, turn it to light and paint you sky blue”
“They’re judging me, I’m judging you, we ain’t got nothing else to do”
“Don’t wake me up in the middle of the night, because I finally found you”
“I lose my voice when I look at you, can’t make a noise though I’m trying to tell you all the right words”
“If all it is is eight letters, why am I in my own way?”
“If I said I want your body, would you hold it against me?”
“They say don’t go to bed angry but I guess that’s where we are”
“Things you take for granted when you grow up by the beach”
“Go on then, love, and show me your heart, ‘cause you are enough as you are and I’m awestruck”
“Is it really your anxiety that stops you from giving me everything, or do you just not want to?”
“Welcome to the world that we live in. A perfect collision, it’s beat down, it’s broken, it’s bright. Welcome to happiness, sadness, to love and to madness”
“I always hear you on the background laughing, you know I hate it when you’re not around”
“These days you’ve been stuck in my brain, wanna play you over and over again”
“Secrets don’t make friends. We make love and love falls apart”
“Tell me you’re okay, yeah what’s that like? Rose tinted glasses, it must be nice. Doing your best while you die inside”
“I’m happy to see the happy back in your eyes”
“You make it hard to miss this hometown”
“A bad boy seems like a good idea until it’s too late”
“Couldn’t keep running, had to hit rock bottom to know”
“I wanna get back to where we started, to the summer night. You know, you know, you know, you know we got it right”
“I realized you are destined and meant to be mine”
“Keep switching your alibi, stuttering when you reply”
“But fuck, I’m so alone, and really need some help”
“We’re dancing on the edge of anxiety’s ledge and I might fall again”
“If we’re said and done, I know that I shouldn’t say that I still care but I still care”
“I haven’t slept in days but who’s counting”
“So I drown it out like I always do, dancing through our house with the ghost of you”
“Too many bottles of wine, can’t get my ducks in a row”
“Got me panicking, manic, and I can’t get no sleep”
“I’ve got a feeling I don’t get a grip I will slip and fall completely under”
“Some days you start singing’ and you don’t need a reason”
“I need a little more luck than a little bit, cause every time I get stuck the words won’t fit”
“Must be the music that’s got me shaking like an addict”
“I bite my tongue so you don’t hear me”
“I’d unfuck you if I could”
“Here’s to now and nothing else, in the crowd all by yourself. To the hellos and the goodbyes, the lows and every high. In this moment I could die with you.”
“Just watch from a safe place so I never have to lose”
“I don’t really understand this life and why we’re all here.”
“If you need me now, I’ll be there somehow”
“I’m so sick of watching while the minutes pass as I go nowhere”
“Let’s see how far I’ll go now that I’ve lost control”
“If I could go back and erase you from my mind, I’d do it in a second”
“I was so scared of losing you, so I lost myself instead”
“I fell in love, in love with you suddenly.”
“Your heart belongs to someone else and I’m always here to keep you company”
“You say you’re sorry and you want us to fix what’s wrong, but I’d rather dye all my insides blonde”
“These last two years were the worst of my life”
“So hold on tight it’s a fast ride in the end”
Volume Three
“If I knew from the start would it change a thing?”
“You don’t have the time to not make time”
“There’ll be happiness after you but there was happiness because of you”
“You used to make me feel like I could walk on water but now most nights I’m just sinking”
“So go to hell and tell the devil I’m not that far behind”
“I’m trying to keep from going insane, ain’t that the way of this whole damn thing”
“For a minute, I was stone cold sober”
“I wish I could still call you friend”
“I know I deserve what you’re putting me through”
“I’ve been trying hard not lose my breath ever since you left”
“Where did you lose your happiness?”
“You’re the thing that I can’t quit”
“Trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat”
“Tell me it’s okay to be happy now”
“I was born but I wasn’t raised”
“I’ll tell you all about it when I see you again”
“Five best friends on four bald tires”
“Even if I knew you’d be the one that got away, I’d still go back and get you”
“Tell me who you were falling for when we were lying on the floor”
“All the greats die young, that’s probably why I’m still alive”
“I never thought we’d make it out”
“I wish we could live here all the time”
“I know that you’re in pain but if we die at the same time, does it still scare you”
“I don’t want to leave this bar until I get your number”
“All that I know is that I just can’t say no to you, funny how things never change”
“I was young and horny.”
“I’d kill for one more way to tell you how you make me better every day”
“How did we end up talking in the first place”
“The weight of the world’s getting harder to hold up”
“There’s a lot more color in the mix when you’re loud and proud out in the sticks”
“Faking smiles and confidence”
“Fight the break of dawn, come tomorrow, tomorrow I’ll be gone”
“Why do I get myself into something I’m not ready for”
“I’d be lying if I tried telling you that you’re not everything that I want”
“It’s bittersweet I can still count on you for something”
“I see you when I close my eyes. I see you like I did that night”
“Tomorrow isn’t promised if the planet falls apart”
“If we get sober, we’ll never get old until we die”
“The tears from your eyes are leaving stains on your shirt, man”
“I ignore all the warning signs, fall for you every time”
“If I think you’re for real, I’m in denial”
“I’m just trying not to lose my shit this time”
“You don’t want to be friends, you’re just horny and fucked up at two am in the morning”
“I’m still young, wasting my youth. I’ll grow up next summer”
“With a full moon and a shitty mood”
“Everything gets fuzzy when you come around”
“I’ll be fine even though I’m not always right”
“We haven’t got time to be putting out fires we didn’t start”
“When you touch me I know there is purpose in my life”
“Maybe someone will save us before we drown”
Volume Four
“Playing fiction in a parking lot, anything to be more than an afterthought”
“Yeah, that’s good to know, wish I knew three years ago”
“I watched you fall away, evade accountability”
“Was I a fool for ever thinking I could get you to stay?”
“If I wake up and I’m still breathing, meet me where the sidewalk ends” 
“Today I called to tell you that I’m changing but I don’t think you have enough respect to see me try”
“Don’t you ever dare call me Vanilla”
“I read your letter, the one you left when you broke into my house”
“Leave it to me to fuck it up without a good reason.” 
“I’m not scared to jump if you want to”
“I’ll keep my secrets inside of my mind, promise I loved you but you roll your eyes”
“Got this bloodstain on my shirt, looking back it doesn’t hurt”
“I don’t mind sleeping all alone, but I’d rather wake up next to you” 
 “I’m always the outcast, I’ll take the blame. The first night you met me, you forgot my name”
 “Like bullets inside my head, you’re drivin’ me insane but there ain’t nothing I would change”
 “I’m at the same dead end, the lonely space in my head”
 “Now we’re at the part where you’ll hate what you see, what the fuck is wrong with me?”
“We’ve got this thing and it’s untouchable. It’s so dirty, pretty, beautiful” 
 “I’m a first class ticket to a fistfight, took a hit to the ribs but I feel just fine.”
“Is this butterflies or nausea? I can’t tell the difference anymore”
 “Tell me what it’s like to be loved by you”
“Baby, I can tell you ain’t easily impressed”
“Like weeds through the concrete cracks, and the flowers by the railroad tracks”
“It’s only been a couple of days and I miss you”
“When you change your mind, I’ll be waiting”
“I only miss you at midnight”
“Remember when you hit the brakes too soon, twenty stitches in a hospital room”
“Mama tried to raise me right but she couldn’t raise the hell out of me”
“So let’s take it back to the basics ‘cause let’s face it, I am on my own”
 “You’d never remember me when you’re pulling on his jeans”
 “I’m over wasting time in life trying to be something I’m not”
 “There’s only one place I wanna be” 
 “Deep dive off the coast of my feelings”
 “I’m glad to say this chapters about to end”
 “And when you touch me like that I get a little attached”
 “I’m single in September when I didn’t want to be”
 “I’m at best your second option”
 “Redefine rock bottom with these empty orange bottles”
 “A sloppy drunk obsessed with his juul”
“The things I’ve learned from a broken mirror, how a face can change when the heart knows fear”
 “I can’t forget the way you looked without your jeans on”
“I’ma treat you right tonight, let’s make it last forever”
“Pushed out of the family tree”
“Guess I think too much, maybe I’m obsessed with universal things like money love and death”
“You love who you love, ain’t nothing you should ever be ashamed of”
“With the boombox blaring as we’re falling in love”
 ���I go back to the loss of a real good friend, and the sixteen summers I spent with him”
“There’s a noise complaint from room 304”
“Just shut up and drink your diet soda”
“We had to learn the hard way”
 “All You ever wanted was a part of me that I couldn’t fake”
“Love’s got a funny way of keepin’ score”
 “If the world ends, I hope I’m in my living room with my best friends”
“Baby blue eyes, stay with me by my side ‘til the mornin”
 “I’ll have you know, I’m scared to death”
“Tell yourself it’s never gonna happen again”
     “All the times you said you hate me, baby, I know what it feels like now. Damn it, I’m sorry”
“I would have married you in Vegas had you given me the chance to say I Do”
“Oh well, guess I’ll see you in hell”
“I got one thing to say and that’s thanks for nothing, kiss my ass”
Volume Five
 “Wide awake but it just feels wrong”
“We can fuck about it later if you want”
“I was fighting for my life eight months ago”
“Don’t be fooled, I’m only letting you down”
“Let’s run free and carry on, like we did when we were young”
“But I’m headstrong and stubborn and stuck in my ways”
“I wanna wake up with you and I, I wish we could live here all of the time.”
“I know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it”
“I have this thing where I get older but never get wiser”
“I picked the petals, he loves me not”
“There’s always gonna be that one forever thing attached to you and me”
“Moving on isn’t something I regret, but it hard to forget” 
“I don’t want to waste my life without you baby”
“As memories fade, nothing’s the same, guess I better act my age” 
“You’re either with us or you can keep it to yourself”
“They say bad things happen for a reason”
“This could be the end of everything”
“Love me for who I am and who I’m gonna be”
“When we were still changing for the better”
“I’d tell you that I’m scared of turning out a failure”
“It’s safe to say I knew it, yeah, I knew it all along” 
“You can do just what you like tonight”
“Memories I hold to keep safe, and I live for that look on your face”
“Go ahead and take life’s lemons, you can mix them with some top shelf”
“Now we’re at the part where you’ll hate what you see.”
“I’ll go through the walls and kick down doors” 
“I even hate my favorite band, all because of you.”
“You make me feel like  1990 something”
“There’s nothing but broken streetlights, and I’m just trying to escape”
“I know I shouldn’t tell you” 
“Have you ever been alone in a crowded room?”
“Don’t you go and carry on with your life”
“So go to hell and tell the Devil I’m not that far behind” 
“Sex and white lies, handcuffs and alibis”
“So pour me another and kiss me like there’s no tomorrow” 
“Spare me just three last words”
“I still don’t know when I can come home, but I promised I would try”
“I barely know her but she starts to give me butterflies”
“She said she wants me for a lifetime”
“Guess I’m getting used to sleepless nights”
“You look pretty with my heart in the palm of your hand” 
“I thought this was as bad as it gets but I was wrong”
“You don’t wanna love me right now, ‘cause baby, I don’t even like me” 
“Lying isn’t me, so I’ll just be completely honest” 
“This shit should be a sin”
“Part of me’s a saint, but I’ll be a sinner”
“I miss you in the mornings when I see the sun”
“Now those songs we used to sing are just songs I can’t sing anymore”
“I would do anything, anything for you”
“I’d drive her anywhere from here to California” 
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geniusvirgin · 3 years
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julemmaes · 3 years
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Like I'm Drowning
Rowaelin Month, Day Twelve
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A/N: Sorry about this, blame @thewayshedreamed, she's the one who wanted more angst.
This will have a fourth part, for obvious reasons;)
part one, part two
Word count: 3,874
It was two days after Aelin had left their home. It was about eleven o'clock in the evening when the walls of what had once been his favourite place had shaken with the force of Lorcan's fists on the front door, shouting at Rowan to let him in.
He had not answered.
He couldn't have done so even if he'd wanted to because his legs had stopped working and the muscles in his neck had been reduced to jelly over the last forty-eight hours, sip after sip of whatever alcohol he'd found in the cabinet.
He lay on the floor, his face in a pool of his own vomit, too heedless to care, too sore to move. In any case, he had stopped smelling the stench hours ago.
Another ten minutes had passed, in which his best friend had threatened over and over again to call the police if he didn't open the fucking door, before Lorcan had slammed his shoulder into it.
He hadn't been able to move in time when the door unhinged from the wall fell partially on him, hitting him in the head with one of the now splintered edges. He grunted in pain and could smell the blood as it began to trickle down his forehead, onto his nose, and he was relieved - he wasn't dead. Rowan had not been sure of it until that moment.
The other was there an instant later, taking the door off him, leaning it against the wall.
And the sharp breath he took was a dagger straight to Rowan's heart.
He didn't want him to see him like this.
He had never heard Lorcan's voice like that. So shocked, so worried. Whatever emotions he was feeling at the moment were blocking him from approaching him. Almost as if he was afraid of scaring him. Of breaking him more than he already was.
Rowan shook his head what he could, he didn't want him to see him like this. He didn't deserve his help.
"God, Rowan, what have you done?"
The relief at finding out he was still alive lasted a moment though, as the pain in his chest hit him so hard it took his breath away and he pulled himself up onto all fours before yet another wave of gags shook his body. He opened his mouth, hoping that this time something would come out, but he choked on nothing. His eyes filled with tears and Rowan wondered how that was possible.
There should have been nothing in his body.
He’d been in this conditions since the day before.
He felt a hand settle on his back, rubbing up and down as Lorcan tried to figure out what was going on, and his brain betrayed him, showing him images of a life he had taken for granted all along, from the second she had been his.
Him on the bathroom floor a few months earlier.
A box of somewhat-too-spicy Chinese food on their coffee table.
And Aelin.
Her hands on his back.
He shook off Lorcan's hand, "Don't touch me."
The words burned his throat and another gag went up his esophagus.
He stayed in that position for a few minutes, his back rising and falling frantically with each breath where he seemed to be unable to get enough air in.
"Rowan."
He didn't look at him. He couldn't.
"Rowan, you hear me?"
Lorcan ducked down, crouching beside him, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder, but he seemed to remember what he'd just asked him not to do as soon as he gave him a startled look. If he touched him again, he didn't know what his broken mind would show him. He was terrified of it.
With a grimace, Lorcan clenched both hands into fists and took a deep breath, closing his eyes as the sour smell of vomit and what Rowan was ashamed to admit was his own piss reached his nostrils. When he opened them again there was a distinct determination in his gaze and Rowan had to pull his eyes back to the floor.
He thought he had found a sort of calm in which he might even be able to answer Lorcan's questions, but he was wrong. He was so wrong.
"What happened?”
“I feel-” he tried to speak, failing, “I feel like I’m drowing.”
“Why? What happened?” he asked again. And then the final hit, “Where's Aelin?"
There was no stopping the first sob. His vision went totally blurry, blackening everything in front of him until all he could see was the image of her, and his chest constricted to the point where breathing was no longer even an option. He fell to the side, against the wall, and there was no stopping the desperate crying that washed over him.
***
It was three days after Aelin had left their home. It was eight o'clock in the evening when Elide and Lorcan had asked him if he would like to go back there after leaving the hospital. It was twenty past eight when they had reached his street and he was counting down the seconds till he got to smell her perfume in the air again.
He had entered the house and tried not to breathe through his nose, realising he was not ready to remember what her scent was. He noticed how everything had been cleaned, tidied up or fixed and he didn't have the mental or physical trength to turn around, hug his friends and thank them.
He looked towards the kitchen, on the table. The letter was no longer there.
"Where is it?" he asked in a hoarse voice.
He hadn't spoken in the last few hours. Not to the couple he knew was staring at him from the doorway.
He'd been forced to answer questions from the doctors, from his coaches asking him how much time he needed. Lorcan had warned him that he'd lied for him, that he'd told them someone dear to them both had suffered a serious injury and died.
Rowan had looked at him and said a simple thank you while he lay on his hospital bed, despite knowing how much a fuckup of that magnitude risked not only his career, but Lorcan's as well.
It was Elide who had the courage to answer him, "What?"
"The letter."
"Oh." she whispered, "I put it in your room."
He nodded. Running a hand over his face he turned to them, noting how they both looked ready to launch themselves forward if they thought Rowan was going to crumble once more time.
He saw Lorcan clench his jaw and then look away before saying, "You won't find any alcohol, I threw away what was left."
Elide smiled at him with watery eyes, trying to change the subject as fast as possible, "If you need anything, you can always come to our place. You know that. We have-"
He interrupted her abruptly. He didn't look at her as he said in a harsh tone, "Thank you for everything, you can go now."
She took a sharp breath, nodding dryly and turning, hurrying out of the house. Lorcan followed her with his gaze the whole time, telling her he would join her in the car in a moment.
When he met Rowan's gaze again, the voice was the one he'd used all the years in high school when he'd been his captain. It gave no room for argument.
"I don't know what you're going through. I don't even want to begin to think about how painful it is to lose someone so important."
She didn’t die, he wanted to say. She left me.
I gave up on her. I don’t deserve her.
The steel mask Rowan was wearing seemed to be already starting to crack. He needed Lorcan to leave before he couldn't control his emotions.
He had already done too much for him.
He didn't deserve any of what they were offering him. He didn’t deserve anything.
"I can hardly imagine what I would do if I were in your position. If Elide-" he paused, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry, for what's happening. It's not easy, I understand, but whatever you're doing right now, it's not the solution. Treating me and Elide like this isn't going to drive us away, and before you tell me you don't need anything, let me just say that finding you lying in a pool of your own vomit completely hammered, out of your mind was one of the most horrifying things I've ever had to see." he took a step forward, placing a hand on Rowan's shoulder.
He had the instinct to pull away, but the grip on his jacket tightened, pinning him in place.
"I'm not letting you go, okay? I'm not going to let you throw away your career like this," he told him, looking him straight in the eye. "I'm not going to lecture you about what happened the other day. I know I would have done a lot worse, but you have to promise me that it won't happen again."
Lorcan's voice faltered at last and Rowan was surprised to see his eyes glaze over.
He nodded, his mouth slightly open, shocked at his friend's reaction.
"Promise me."
He hurried to whisper, "I promise."
Lorcan nodded, pulling Rowan to him and hugging him. He closed his eyes as the man in front of him held him together without even realising.
When they pulled away, they pretended not to hear the way they were sniffing, or the tears on both men's cheeks. They said a simple goodbye and then Rowan was alone.
Again.
He climbed the stairs slowly, walking like a dead man down the corridor filled with memories of him carrying Aelin in his arms on that very floor, and when he reached the door to their room, he hesitated.
He brushed against the knob, gripping it in his hand.
He stared at the wood in front of him and felt panic assail him.
Rowan turned on his heel, running for the stairs, the exit, hoping that Lorcan had not already left.
He threw open the door of the ghost-filled house and ran out, intent on never returning.
***
It was two weeks after Aelin left their home. Eleven days since he'd run away in a panic. Ten days since Lorcan had convinced Rowan to go back there, at least to pack up his things.
Nine days since Rowan had destroyed their room, screaming and sobbing as he tore the curtains from the windows and threw what little of her he had left against the wall.
Every ornament, every picture frame.
He'd screamed at Lorcan when he'd tried to stop it.
He hadn't succeeded. Rowan had razed their home to the ground, shattering every happy memory they had created over the years in those four walls.
Only when he'd found Aelin's ring had he stopped, bursting into tears so loud that the first sob had startled Lorcan, holding the small object to his chest.
They had gone back to Lorcan’s, and Elide had stood there looking at him with wide eyes, before running to get the first aid kit to clean the wounds Rowan had caused himself. More or less deep cuts, which his friends said should have been stitched up by actual doctors, but Rowan doubted they wouldn't lock him up in the psychiatric ward if he went to the emergency room for the sixth time in such a short time.
Especially if he came in with shards of glass between his fingers.
He hadn't kept his promise to Lorcan.
He'd drank again. He'd gotten into a couple of fights. He hadn't been back to the rink.
He hadn't skated in a fortnight. Longest period of his life off the ice.
But he couldn't do it.
He couldn't do anything. And it was all his fault.
***
It was three months and one day after Aelin had left their home. He had called Lysandra every day since Lorcan had forced him out of his and Elide's house, finding him a place right outside their team's arena. The woman had never given him any real answers, only reassuring him that Aelin was fine and that he should start moving on, too.
That too had broken something inside of him. The implications that Aelin had found someone else.
He couldn’t even bare being in the same room as another woman knowing they’d all be looking at him trying to get in his pants.
Aelin had always been the only one who wanted him for who he truly was, not his money. Not his status.
She had wished all those things gone so many times.
And she had left him.
He had let her go.
The team had sent a physiotherapist to his house every day for the first month, and then every week, accompanied by a shrink. Rowan had managed to drain them all. One after the other.
He was sure Lorcan had lost all hope too, but he continued undaunted to help him, going to his house every day after practice, without ever missing one day.
Rowan knew that Aelin had called him one night, almost a month before. Lorcan had told him, how she had begged him to tell her that he was alright, even though it wasn't true. His friend had also told him that she'd seemed to be drunk, and when she had hung up and both he and Elide had tried to call her back, Aelin had blocked their numbers.
From what he knew, she'd only unblocked Elide's, but she hadn't given him any kind of information about Aelin and he knew she'd never say anything.
He had hurt her - Elide. Rowan knew he'd treated her like little more than trash, both her and Lorcan, but however much he'd hurt her, it didn't seem to bother him in the slightest.
He should have felt something for his friends who had given him everything in the last period, but Rowan could not care less than what they had to go through for him.
Now he was waiting for Lorcan, sitting at the table, to show him he was alright. Putting on his daily show and reassuring his friend that everything was going great, he just wasn't ready to skate again yet. The other one would look at him, yell at him a few minutes before walking out of his miserably empty flat slamming the door.
Rowan was just waiting for the day when he wouldn't show up or when he would tell him he wasn't coming, saying goodbye one last time.
He knew it would happen, one way or another, and Rowan didn't know how to stop the mess that had become his life.
That day it wasn't Lorcan who entered his house, but someone else. Rowan opened the door and saw his agent, his team president, and his coaches, along with the athletic trainers.
They had given him an ultimatum.
Either you go back to slacking off after Christmas break or we break your contract, you're off the team and you lose lots of money.
The president had been particularly emphatic on the subject of money, but for Rowan that would be the least important thing.
It wasn't until the evening after New Year's Eve that he had made a decision.
Lysandra, whom he hadn't seen in person in more than two months, had entered his house looking like someone who hadn't slept in years. She had forced him out of bed, shouting at him to wash up, to clean his house. She had made it so Rowan couldn't talk back, never letting him speak, pushing him left and right.
She had taken him outside, something he hadn't done in weeks, so much so that the sun had hurt his eyes for the first two hours. She had forced him to buy new clothes and all the missing furniture in his house.
She had stayed with him for three days.
Three extremely long days in which she had swore at him, insulted him in every possible way imaginable by the human mind. They'd nearly come to blows when she'd touched a sore spot and Rowan had threatened to call Aedion to haul her away.
She'd dragged him to the party Fenrys had thrown for the New Year and for the first time in months, Rowan had smiled.
Elide had started crying when she'd seen him, Lorcan on the verge of tears as well. They had both hugged him and Rowan had begged for their forgiveness.
That night, Rowan thought things would be different for him for the first time.
He'd been wrong.
Again.
***
It was four years and twenty-seven days after Aelin had left their home. Four years since he had received no news of her. Three years since he stopped asking.
Rowan had been zapping through channels for so many hours now that the glaring light of the TV didn't even bother him anymore. His eyes were slightly glazed over as he stared at the screen, not really looking at the images in front of him. He caught a glimpse of a sentence here and there, ignoring the constant tinkle coming from his phone that warned him that Lorcan still didn't give up on talking to him every day from the moment he woke up to the moment he went to sleep. Even when he was on holiday with his now wife.
They had won yet another cup. The third win in a row.
Sometimes Rowan could hardly believe it.
Three Stanley Cups.
On his dream team.
He should have been excited. No, not excited.
He should have been the happiest man on earth. He should have been out celebrating with his teammates, vacationing on a tropical beach like Lorcan was doing, surrounding himself with girls ready to offer him anything to spend even just one night with him.
But Rowan didn't want to.
Rowan felt nothing – he had not felt anything in the last few years of his life. How did he expect to start now? For a measly win.
He hated hockey. He hated the sport. Hated the fans, his teammates.
He hated his life.
He was about to turn off the TV, confident that he would be able to sleep tonight without the help of the meds the team kept giving him to keep him from collapsing during the games, when his finger froze on the remote.
He didn't know what he was watching, but it seemed to be a channel about gossip, and Rowan felt a pang of anger well up in his chest. It seemed to be the only emotion he still felt from time to time.
Shocked and pissed that someone had felt the need to devote an entire channel to minding other people's business, he stood up, ready to pass out in his cold bed, when the words of the man on the screen stopped him in his tracks.
"And now to the latest news, straight from the social of the Toronto Maple Leafs' rookie player, Chaol Westfall, who has announced his marriage to the stunningly beautiful girlfriend, Aelin Galathynius. She has never been very active on social media, in fact, for somebody with such a charm, she'd be perfect in the role of influencer, but-"
Rowan stopped hearing.
He felt his body's reaction in time, and rushing to the kitchen, he managed to get everything his body was rejecting in the sink. He heaved in there till the last bit of what he’d eaten a few hours ago.
His heart was racing and he had to grip the counter to keep from kneeling on the floor.
That couldn’t be true.
Aelin was getting married.
Aelin was getting married to an hockey player.
The anger blinded him as her words flashed before his eyes.
I can’t do this anymore.
I’m weak. I’m so tired.
This isn’t the life I wanted for us.
I wish I could be your “’till death do us apart”, but I can’t.
The sound that came out of him was not human as he ran to his room and snatched the ring from the drawer next to his bed, the letter that just went wherever he went and raced out of the flat that never felt his own anyway.
***
It was four years and thirty days after Aelin had left their home.
Rowan stood in front of the journalists. Everyone was gaping at him, his teammates on the sidelines were looking his way as if he’d grown three heads.
And he couldn’t blame them, but he had needed to do this a long time ago.
He’d talked to his agents, the team’s president, everyone he had needed to to make this happen and he hadn’t felt such freedom in so long.
The questions just kept on coming and coming and he couldn’t distinguish the words. But he didn’t care.
He only needed to make this statement in front of everyone.
“I’m aware that leaving this team right now is a foolish and completely insane idea, but this world has taken too much from me already. My contract with the Senators ended with this season and I know everyone was expecting me to say which team I’m heading off to, but I’m quitting.
“I should have done this a long time ago and I’m sure the person this is for won’t even see this interview, but I love someone who thought she wasn’t enough for me. She told me four years ago her love wasn’t enough. I’m leaving cause hockey has not been a source of happiness in a very long time and it ruined everything good I ever had.
“I thought I loved playing cause of the adrenaline. The pride in a win. The chills when you score. But no, it wasn't that.”
I loved seeing her smile whenever I scored for her. The way she used to put medications on my wounds and bruises whenever I got hit too hard. Or the way we used to get all cuddled up after a long flight, after weeks of not seeing each other. I loved how my jerseys fit her – the way my clothes fit her.
He turned to his teammates, the people he owned a lot but couldn’t bring himself to care enough of to stay with them, “Being on this team would only make it worse. I’m sorry guys, I hope you can understand. This isn’t what I want right now.”
And right before he could get off the stage that had been set up for him, someone screamed from the crown.
“What are you going to do now?”
He didn’t stop to reply, avoiding everyone’s gazes and keeping on walking until he reached the exit of the arena. The chill air hit him hard as he went out on the street and got on the car.
This was the last time he’d be able to use one of the team’s cars.
The driver looked at him in the mirror, “Where to?”
“The airport, please.”
The man nodded and started the engine and Rowan felt something he hadn’t felt in years.
Hope.
Now, I’m going to get her.
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backtobackbakubabe · 3 years
Text
Speak Easy Part 3
Bakugo x Reader
Words: 4892
Masterlist
Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together?
Words with 'this' is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.
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Dabi had laid you down gently in the back seat of his car, taking off his jacket to lay over you. You wanted to fall asleep you really did. But the consistent pain coming from your hip was enough to keep you awake, but not enough for you to pass out. You hugged the jacket around you that smelled like smoke and coffee.
You don’t know much time passed but eventually you were being pulled from the backseat. He picked you up bridal style and made his way to the house, “Look at you. We’re not even married, and you already have me carrying you over the threshold.”
When you didn’t react to his little joke he sighed, “Wow tough crowd, okay.”
He walked straight to the couch and put you down before immediately jogging to the kitchen to grab some first aid supplies… amongst other things.
He came back and sat on the table that was in front on the couch and maneuvered you so your injured hip was accessible to him. “Okay this is going to sting for a little bit, but I’m going to need you to stay still until I’m done.” Without any more warning then that he poured what smelled like vodka on the wound.
It stung like a bitch, causing you to dig your nails into the cushion of the couch and grit your teeth so hard you were surprised they didn’t crack.
He started to wipe it down with some kind of cloth. Cleaning all the dried blood and sweat from you. You were practically panting now trying to breathe through the sharp pain. “That’s it. Keep breathing. Good girl. I’m almost done.” He taped a bandage over it before pulling your hoodie back down. “There. Good as new.”
He helped you sit up a little so he could give you a glass of water, which you were incredibly thankful for. “Alright… so I have all the good stuff. Anything you could want really.” He pulled out several bottles of pills.
You didn’t know what was in those bottles, but you knew you didn’t want any. You’ve had enough drugged out days to last a lifetime. So as much as you knew it’d help with the pain, you didn’t want it. You just met Dabi less than twelve hours ago. You didn’t know what kind of bullshit he’d pull once you went under.
You shook your head no and pointed to the bottle of vodka. You may not want pills, but a shot wouldn’t kill you.
He chuckled, “Okay tough guy. Whatever you say.” He walked back to the kitchen and returned with two of the biggest shot glasses you had ever seen. “Let’s get this party started huh?” He poured two shots and handed one to you. “To life off the grid.”
You both threw your shots back. He with no reaction, you however immediately started coughing.
His hand rubbed a circle on your back, “Look at you. Took it like a champ. Didn’t even need a chaser.” He poured another shot for himself and brought it up to his lips but stopped when he saw you looking at him. “What? You didn’t think I’d give you more than one, did you? Oh no, no, no. With how tiny you are? Not to mention your tolerance has probably gone to shit. I think one is plenty for now.”
Well jokes on him. Just because you seem weak doesn’t mean you are. He’s not going to tell you how much you can and can’t drink. You scooted to the edge of the couch, wincing a little as you did. You scooped up the bottle of vodka and took a swig straight from the bottle.
You saw something flash behind his eyes, but he immediately hid it behind a playful smirk, “I don’t know if you’re a badass or a brat. Only time will tell. But I’ll have you know that in my house… My word is law. I’m just trying to help you after all.” He tore the bottle from your hands before securing the lid, giving it an extra hard squeeze to keep you from opening it again. “But because this is your first night here, and you’re hurt, and I really am a nice guy. I’ll let it slide this once…. So? You still want some ice cream?”
You nodded as you reached for your notebook but was alarmed when you couldn’t find it. You could already feel the light feeling of a buzz taking over, but you refused to let Dabi know he was right about your tolerance.
“What’s up? What are you looking for?” You made a gesture with your hands as if you were writing something down. “Ah, right. The handy dandy notebook. It’s probably in the car. I’ll go grab it.” He took a few steps away before coming back to grab the bottle of vodka, mumbling something about how he refuses to clean up your puke.
You took this time while he was away to get a better look at the place. It was very minimalistic. Lots of greys, whites, and blacks. The couch felt just as expensive as the giant tv on the wall looked. From what you could see of the kitchen, it looked nice. The shiny appliances were either kept impeccably clean, or never used. Was this his house? It hardly looked lived in.
“Alright got the notebook. How about you pick something to watch while I scoop some ice cream. What do you want? One for Vanilla, two for chocolate, three for cookies and cream.”
You held up three fingers. You were amazed at how well he was adjusting to communicating with you already. He had just accepted that you weren’t talking and went with it.
“Cookies and cream huh? I thought you’d be more of a fan of vanilla.” He chuckled. “The remot is on the side table next to you. The TV is rigged so you can basically watch whatever you want. Just type it into the search bar.”
You picked up the remote and quickly started scanning through channels. Your finger accidentally brushed the microphone button and you froze at the loud beeping noise that signaled it was listening.
Dabi had made his way over with two bowls both with cookies and cream. He saw the face you made at the remote before taking it from you and replacing it with a bowl of ice cream. “Hey none of that pouty shit. It’s not cute. This is temporary, you’ll be talking again in no time.”
He looked at the screen, “Okay one for anime, two for live action.” You held up one finger. “Okay, One for thriller, two for action, three for comedy. Four for romance.” You held up two fingers. “Oh, thank god I really thought you were going to pick romance. Okay I’m going to scroll through them, just tap my shoulder when you want me to stop.”
He scrolled for a while before you stopped him at Naruto. “Ah a classic. Good pick. Now get comfy. I have a feeling you’re gonna pass out before the first episode is even over.”
Sure enough, soon after finishing your bowl of ice cream you felt your eye lids drooping. A part of you was still nervous to fall asleep. But seeing as you just had a wild 24 hours… there was no way in hell you were fighting sleep for long.
“You ready for bed yet?” You sleepily nodded your head and started to slide down so you could lay down on the couch. “Oh no you don’t.” He scooped you up and headed down a hallway. He entered a rather large room with a bathroom attached and tossed you onto the bed causing the wound in your hip to throb. “Okay welcome to you room, this your bed, that is your bathroom. I will be right across the hall. I’d say yell if you need something but… well you know. So… try to not need me. Have a good night.”
You grabbed his wrist before he could get far, “What don’t tell me you’re like afraid of the dark or something.” He turned around to see your blushing face as you pointed to the bathroom and then to yourself. “Ooooooh, okay. Right. So, is this like a you need to pee situation? Or did you like… want to shower? Not that I’m against helping you take a shower…” He smirked at you.
You rolled your eyes and held up one finger. “Okay, okay, but you will eventually have to shower. But I guess we can figure that out tomorrow.” There was a wicked gleam in his eye that could only be compared to a child who was plotting on how to steal a cookie from the cookie jar.
He had been pretty patient while waiting for you to finish going to the bathroom, but he was still just as rough as he tossed you back onto the bed. “Alright, so, to reiterate, I’m right across the hall. Try to not need me. Good night.”
You sank into the bed the second the door closed behind him. You were alone. You were free and you were alone. Twenty-four hours ago, you had been strapped to a bed with shock collar on. You curled into a ball and cried. You wanted this to be the last time you felt sorry for yourself, so you wanted to get it all out now. Tomorrow was the first day of your new life and you didn’t plan on wasting a single second of it.
It didn’t take long for you to cry yourself to sleep considering how exhausted you were. What would have surprised you however was the fact that Dabi was sitting just outside the door listening to you muffled sobs, clenching his fists in rage.
It wasn’t until he heard you screaming that he realized he had fallen asleep there. On his feet in seconds he ran into your room. What he saw shook him a little bit. You had kicked all of the blankets off the bed. Soaked in sweat and tears. Your body was jerking around so hard it looked painful. You were having a nightmare, likely due to PTSD.
Shit what did he do? He’s no stranger to bad dreams, but he also knows he could make it worse if he doesn’t do this right. “Hey y/n. Y/N! I need you to wake up honey. It’s just a dream. You’re safe. Y/n. Y/N! Come on now follow my voice. Wake up for me yeah? You’re okay, I promise.” He reached out and as lightly as he possibly could touched your cheek.
You were burning up. He cursed as he tried to peel your soaked hoodie off of you. He started to shake your shoulder a little harder. But all that did was make you panic and thrash around. So he grabbed you and held you to him. “God Damnit Y/n. Wake up!”
He felt the tension leave your body only for a moment before you started to try and push him off of you.
He immediately dropped his arms and pushed away from you. “Hey you’re okay. It’s just me. Remember your hero pals saved you yesterday and now we’re roomies.” He could see the confusion in your eyes start to fade as you woke up. “Believe me I understand. I’d be scared too if I woke up in a weird place with my ugly mug lookin at you.”
He reached for your journal and tried to hand it to you. “You want to talk about it?”
You shook your head and hugged your knees to your chest. He nodded and put the journal back on the nightstand. “That’s okay. You don’t have to…” He wasn’t very good at this part. Talking about emotions and shit. “Yeah so uh… I can get you a different shirt.” He could see the goosebumps already raising on your arms. Now that the panic and adrenaline had subsided you were damp and cold. “And I can get a warm bath going if you want? He looked at the clock. It’s 5:30, which in ungodly early for me, but if you’re up I guess we can go ahead and start the day… How does that sound?”
You refused to look him in the eye and settled for a shrug of your shoulders, letting your knees drop from your chest. He could see straight through your tank top and was pleasantly surprised to find that under that baggie hoodie you had some nice tits.
He liked his lips and lucky for him, you were too busy avoiding eye contact that you didn’t even notice. “Alright well I tried being nice in giving you an option so now I’m telling you. You’re taking a bath.” He picked you up and walked towards the bathroom. “I’ll get the water going. Do you think you can manage making it from the toilet to the tub without me?”
Again, you shrugged which was quickly becoming one of his biggest pet peeves. He groaned, “One for yes, two for no. No more fucking shrugging.”
You nodded and held up one finger. “Alright, that wasn’t that hard was it?”
Without waiting for an answer he knew he wasn’t going to get he started the water and left you to it.
He went out to the car to grab the backpack the mini might kid had packed for you. Then into his room to grab you a clean shirt. He was going to leave the items outside the bathroom door until he heard a thump followed by a groan.
“Y/n? Did you fall down?” A very long pause later and you hit the side of the tub once. “Okay do you need help getting up?” Another long pause before you hit the side twice. “Are you sure?” He desperately wanted you to say no. Not to sound like a perv, but he’d love to get a quick peek at you.
Two hits on the tub sounded. “Okay, I’m coming in.” He opened the door almost too quickly. There you were sitting on the floor, back against the tub, completely naked. He had expected you to try and hide yourself from view, but was shocked when you practically reached for him, baring your entire chest for him to drink in.
He stopped for a moment before picking you up. “I’m not going to pick you up like I usually do. Instead I’m going to help you stand, and hold you while you try to get in yourself. We gotta start working on those legs.” You looked nervous but nodded anyways.
He hooked his hands under your armpits and pulled against him in standing position. His pinkies barley brushing the outside of your breasts and even that little bit drove him crazy. But he contained himself. The last thing he needed was you randomly activating your quirk and figuring out what a horn dog he is.
You weakly attempted to raise your right leg high enough to get into the tub. You were almost there, you almost had it. “That’s it, you’re doing so well. Just a little more, come on you can do it.” Whether you knew it or not, your ass was pushing back into Dabi’s crotch and he wasn’t going to make it much longer. So he lifted you a little higher making it easier for you to step in. “OKAY, I think one leg is good enough progress for now.” He sat the rest of you in gently before quickly turning away calling over his shoulder, “Alright, I’ll be back in… ten minutes to help you back out.”
You waited until he was gone to let a small giggle out. It honestly took you by surprise. It was the first time you had made a noise that wasn’t out of pain in a while. But just remembering the blush of his cheeks when you reached for him was enough to have you smile to yourself.
Before all of this happened to you were no stranger to being naked. In fact, you loved it. Maybe it was some weird side effect of your quirk. But you loved being naked, being intimate, having sex. To you there was no better bliss. You craved it. Your quirk allowed you all the control you could ever want, but there was something so intoxicating about giving that control over completely to someone else. To be praised, to be worshipped, to be adored.
Well at least that was the way you were before. Before you weren’t allowed to touch anyone, or look at them, or… speak to them. What if you were different now? What if being controlled for so long, being forced to do things against your will… what if it changed you?
The thought made you sad. You briefly considered testing the waters with Dabi, but quickly shook that from your head. And it wasn’t even the fact he was a villain, as much as you hate to admit it, you’d slept with villains before. But could you even consider him a villain anymore. You could see what Todoroki had meant by saying he was neither hero nor villain.
No, the biggest reason you needed to keep your hands off Dabi is because he was nice enough to take you in. You don’t need to jeopardize your safety just to curb your cravings.
You quickly scrubbed your body clean and did your best to wash your hair, but it was a nightmare. Your hair was crazy long now and the knots and tangles were just impossible to get through. You wined in frustration as your fingers yet again got stuck.
“You know I could always shave your head, I’m sure you could pull it off.” You stuck your tongue out at him as he handed you a brush. “Better watch who you’re sticking that tongue out at.” He hesitated, “Arms up, time to get out.”
You felt like a child, but you obeyed without protest. Earning you a “good girl” that sent shivers down your spine. “Hm? Do you like it when I praise you?”
You shrugged and avoided eye contact and you could feel the growl rip through is chest. “What did I say about fucking shrugging?”
You bit your lip and pulled yourself closer to him so he couldn’t see your blushing face.
Like a sack of potatoes, you were tossed onto to the bed. He tossed you a pair of clean underwear and one of his shirts that would easily come down to your knees. Once you were dressed, he roughly pulled you to the edge of the bed and sat between your legs.
Your heart rate spiked, and you let out an excited gasp. His hand smoothed up your thigh, “Relax, I’m just putting a new bandage on your hip. Don’t get so excited.” He examined the shallow wound and you winced. It took everything in him not to place a kiss right over your wound. He’d made that mark on you. It would definitely scar and as twisted as it sounded… he liked that.
He started to tape the new bandage down. One of his hands rubbed the inside of your thigh, while the other made sure the bandage was secure. God he just wanted to bite into the soft flesh in front of him. He took a deep breath to steady himself, but he was absolutely not prepared for… was you winding your fingers through his white locks.
“Y/n… what?” Your fingers tightened causing him to groan and let lose. He started to kiss the meaty part of your thigh, biting ever few kisses drawing sweet sounds from your lips that made him wonder what your voice sounded like. He made his way up to your hip and kissed right above the bandage before licking up from you belly button and up your sternum, pushing your shirt… well his shirt up as he went. He grabbed one of your tits in one hand while he sucked on the other nipple. Your hips bucked up as his hand traveled south. As soon as his hand started to sneak past your underwear something in you snapped.
You couldn’t do this. Not now. Something wasn’t right. You felt trapped under his body weight, you couldn’t breathe. Too much, you weren’t ready.
You pushed at his hand and whined until finally he got the message. He stopped and looked at your confused eyes, “Shit… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I-I guess I misread that one.” He pulled your shirt back down and knelt in front on you on the bed. “I guess we should set some rules huh?”
Rules… rules… follow the rules.
You yanked your gaze down to stare at your hands that you had folded in your lap. Don’t look, don’t talk, don’t touch.
He reached for one of your hands, but you yanked it back shaking your head. “Hey look at me.” You continued to stare into your lap. He swore under his breath, “Please… look at me. I need to know what I did or said that freaked you out so bad. This is what I mean when I said we need rules-“ You flinched. “Oh is the word rules?”
You started to shrug before you remembered he wouldn’t like that. You lifted a shaky hand and picked up your journal and handed it to him open to the first page. You snuck a glance at his expression as he read over them. His face was expressionless as he read over your list of rules. “Hm… sounds kinky.”
He looked around for something to write with before coming to sit next to you, making sure to give you plenty of space. “Okay so how about instead we have laws?” You gave a quick shrug before nodding in agreement. He narrowed his eyes at you, “And law number one. No fucking shrugging.”
He handed the pen to you, “You’re turn. Write something down.” You gave him a questioning look, “Don’t worry about it, if I don’t like it, I’ll just draw a line through it. We’re brainstorming here.”
You wrote down “No drugs.” You heard him groan but he nodded anyways.
“Okay fine but then you have to make eye contact when talking to me. Doesn’t matter if it’s verbal or not.”
You went on like that for a while until you had a new set of “laws”
You had agreed to workouts in the pool to get your strength back up and he agreed to try and learn sign language with you.
The last law he added however was “I will not initiate the sexy time without written or verbal consent.”
You rolled your eyes and went to push him away but he dodged you easily enough. He quickly stood up throwing you over his shoulder. “Alright enough of that. We have a long day ahead of us.”
You helped him make breakfast while he explained that this house was one of many that he owned under different aliases. This one was the most secluded and had the best security system.
You were still picking at your pancakes when he sat next to you at the kitchen island bringing a laptop with him. “I’m not helping you down from here until you eat every last bite. Law number 7- Eat three full meals a day. Need to put some meet on those bones.”
He pulled up a website that had a video queued up that said introduction to sign language. “Okay before we get going 1 for tea, 2 for coffee.”
Your eyes lit up as you held up 2 fingers and scurried to grab your journal. ‘Can you put some milk in it?’ It had been so long since you had coffee and the thought had you bouncing with excitement.
He read it and gave you a thumbs up. “Go ahead and start the video, I’m just over here.”
And that’s how you set into your routine. Every day you’d sleep in until you decided to get up. Eat a big breakfast. Work on sign language. Eat Lunch. Do some kind of workout in the pool. Relax and watch TV. Eat dinner. Take a bath. Go to bed.
You did this every day for the past two weeks and you could already tell a difference. You and Dabi had learned a few basics in sign. Only a few words, but it was a start. But Dabi’s favorite part was helping you walk.
Not that he didn’t like carrying you, but this was just as much fun. He’d hold you under the armpits from behind and he’d let you stand on his feet like a child. You still couldn’t walk on your own, but you were so close. Every day you felt stronger and you knew it was only a matter of time.
Today marks sixteen days that you had been here. You watched as Dabi cleaned up the rest of breakfast. You frowned as you thought about how much he did for you and how little you gave in return. You hadn’t noticed him walk over to you until his hand was lifting your chin to look at him. “Pool time?”
You nodded and signed back ~Pool time~. You reached your arms up to be picked up and he easily complied, no worse than a trained dog.
“You’ve gained weight. I can tell.”
You looked horrified as you slapped his shoulder. ~rude~
He chuckled, “Hey don’t get all huffy about it. It’s a good thing. You were way too skinny before. You looked like a strong breeze would blow you over and break all of your bones.” He stopped at the edge of the pool giving you a wicked look. “Now you’re starting to look healthy again. Healthy enough for me to do this and not feel bad about it.”
He tossed you into the pool, clothes and all. You sputtered to the surface but didn’t have to struggle long before he was behind you leading you to the shallow end. “You’re fine. Almost there, don’t be so dramatic.”
He led you to the wall you usually hold on to for your exercises and let you go. You growled as you flipped him off. Idiot doesn’t need to know sign language to understand that one.
You pulled your wet shirt off and tossed it over to one of the lounge chairs. Leaving you in just a bra and underwear, which is how you normally did these exercises. Dabi had requested the heroes send a bathing suit in the next care package, but it hadn’t arrived yet.
He reached around your middle section and pulled you away from the wall after you had done a couple sets of squats and leg kicks. “Okay now lets see how you do without the wall.” He turned you around to face him and slowly backed away only holding your elbows now. “Okay now lets take a lap around the shallow end shall we?”
At first your steps were more like tiny shuffles. “It’s gonna take us all damn day if you don’t start taking bigger steps. Come on you can do it. Pick those feet up!”
You gave him a harsh glare. He knew you couldn’t fight back right now because your hands were too busy gripping his arms for support.
You started taking larger steps and then larger ones and then eventually you had made it almost all the way around. Dabi stepped back and completely. “Okay just a few more steps. I think you can do them on you own. Come on baby girl. Just a few steps. You can do it.”
You nodded enthusiastically, of course you could. It was just a few steps. You could do this. You reached your hands out to the side and took your first step by yourself. Your eyes lit up at the feeling. Sure, it was only in the pool, but that was progress! “That’s it! Good girl, keep going!” You reached for him as you took another step, followed by another and another and then suddenly he was picking you up. “Hell yeah! Atta girl! Good job. I think that earned you some kind of reward.” He gave the top of your head a quick kiss as he started to carry you out of the pool.
Your head was singing with his praises, and your body was buzzing with adrenaline after crossing such a huge milestone. He carried you to his room where he pulled out another shirt for you to wear. “Okay so about that rewar-“
He was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. His eyes went dark. No one was supposed to know where this place was. He quickly picked you up and sprinted to the office. There was a secret false wall panel that led to a saferoom. He had told you of its existence in case he ever needed to hide you, but you hadn’t actually seen it. He was in the process of opening up the wall when a familiar flash of blonde hair showed on the security monitor. You pinched his shoulder and pointed.
He looked at what you were pointing at and groaned. “What the fuck is he doing here?”
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tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime @klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs
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amyscascadingtabs · 3 years
Text
darling, you should know i’m a helicopter
a healthy dose of hurt/comfort with added baby snuggles, because i truly felt for amy in this episode. it's been a long time since i just wrote something quick but i hope you enjoy! 🥰
oh and if you want a picture this is the pajamas mac is wearing, okay cool
read on ao3
 Amy doesn’t mean for it to be a breakdown.
 She’s not surprised when Mac’s familiar piercing cries wake her up again a mere hour and a half after she’s fed him and put him to sleep for the night. As miraculous as Charles’ methods seemed, she still believes some babies are just fussy, and her son is one of them. It’s the only logical conclusion she’s come to after six, eight, ten, and twelve weeks all passed without any notable improvement in Mac’s ability to sleep longer stretches, and now he’s five months old and defying every single baby book and website that informs her he should be well settled into a sleeping schedule by now. He’s just fussy, or a high need baby, or whatever other term with needlessly negative connotations there is to make Amy feel like she's doing a bad job. It’s who he is and it’s what she’s used to, so she just scoots to the edge of the bed and picks him up from his travel cot in her still hurting arms before he can wake up the rest of the house.
On another night, she might have tried to walk around with him first, play some white noise or bounce on the yoga ball with him, but she’s tired and dejected and scared to wake up anyone else, so she goes for the easy option. The buttons of her pink striped pajama shirt are easily accessible for this exact purpose, and resting Mac’s head in the crook of her right arm, she gently guides him to her chest and exhales in relief as the crying comes to a stop. At least this, she can do, and the idiots who write advice pages about how you shouldn’t get your baby used to falling asleep at the breast have probably never even met a real baby.
 She leans back against the pillows when she’s sure Mac’s found a good latch and she can hear his content grunts and swallows. His hand has found a steady grip on her newly washed hair, probably getting drool in it again, but she can’t be bothered to try and unclench his little iron fist when he’s finally happy. Watching his perfect chubby cheeks as they hollow and fill, stroking the soft baby curls that are getting lighter and more like Jake’s every day, Amy’s overcome with another wave of that crazy all-consuming love that keeps surprising her, and then she’s the one who can’t stop her tears from falling.
 The only thing she ever wants is to keep him safe. In a world of pandemics and injustice, where the news gives her anxiety attacks more days than not and everything she thought she knew keeps changing, at least she can make sure Mac has his every need attended to. It’s been her life while staying home for the past five months, and she likes to think she’s handled it well all things considered, but after Charles’ nip tips and three-hour imprisonment of her child, Amy can’t help but feel like she’s done it all wrong.
 Her son is at his happiest when she can’t bother him. Once again, her high-strungness and failure to just be chill have proved her unfit for motherhood. She’s too anxious, too stressed, too overprotective, and the baby in her arms looking up at her with the warmest, roundest brown eyes she’s ever known is seriously unlucky and he doesn’t even know it.
 She doesn’t know where the negative thoughts are coming from, but sometimes breastfeeding has this effect on her – another sign, the self-hating voice in her head whispers – and it’s been an exhausting day, so she lets the tears come and hopes Jake is too deeply asleep to notice her mini-breakdown. Why is this so hard for her, and why can’t she just relax? How come Mac seems to be the only child she’s heard of whose sleeping habits at home have gotten worse and not better after his first few weeks at daycare, and how come even the most gentle of sleep training methods break her heart when Mac cries like he’s been abandoned?
 She’s wiping her tears with her free hand before wiping Mac’s cheeks with the muslin blanket when Jake begins to stir next to her, and even that makes her feel guilty, because he’s had a long day, too. He rubs his hand against her upper arm as if sensing that something’s off, yawning as he pushes himself up into a half-sitting position.
“Hey,” he mumbles in his softest sleepy voice, a worried crease appearing on his forehead. “Are you okay, Ames?”
“Yeah,” she tries, but her voice breaks, so she shakes her head. Mac is starting to pull away, so she unlatches him and sighs when she realizes that the shirt she’d packed clean already has milk stains on it. She rests him upright with his head on her shoulder instead, patting him on the back and trying to stop the tears that won't stop coming.
“Whatever it is, you can tell me. Is it Charles again? Because I really think he felt bad, but I’m happy to tell him off again if you want me to.”
“It's not Charles.” Amy sighs. “Well, it kind of is, but it's more that... I can't believe the best Mac has ever slept was when I wasn't even there. I try everything and nothing works, and Charles straight-up locks him in a room, and that makes him fall asleep? It feels like more proof I wasn't meant to do this,” she says, and she can see him immediately opening his mouth to protest. “Like even Charles is a more natural mom than I am.”
 Mac makes a hiccuping noise, spitting up a little bit of milk on the muslin blanket Amy put on her shoulder. Jake wipes it away before laying an arm around them, half-hugging them both.
“No offense, but that's the worst lie I’ve heard today, and that's including the stuff Terry said about me.” He strokes Mac’s back through the blue pajamas with little moons and clouds with faces as he begins to whimper again. “You're the best mom to him ever, Ames. You do everything for him. You literally kicked down a door to get to him today. Why do you think someone would be better?”
Amy sighs as she adjusts Mac in her arms, swaying him slightly and being surprised when it actually makes him go quiet. He has his eyes closed, fists up in front of his face, and just the thought that she could be doing something wrong by him makes her heart shatter.
“Because I try too hard,” she whispers, just loud enough for Jake to hear. “When he was locked in by Charles, I couldn't check on him, and it was the best nap he's ever had. All because I worry too much about him. Because I don't know what else to do. I want to keep him safe, but instead I’m somehow not doing enough and doing too much at once.”
She tickles that adorable baby chin with her index finger. Mac grips it, bringing it to his mouth with determination, and it makes both parents laugh. Why he likes this but rejects every single kind of pacifier Buy Buy Baby had to offer, she’ll never understand.
“He knows you love him,” Jake says, as if that was an obvious fact. He likes to claim he can read Mac’s mind about these things, a skill which Amy thinks would have been a lot more useful if it had also worked to figure out what it is their son needs during their worst nights of crying. It's what she needed to hear right now, though, and she leans her head on his shoulder as a silent thank you. “And just because he might be a little introverted sometimes doesn't mean he doesn't love you like crazy, too. I mean, that's what you tell me when I interrupt you when you're reading, right?”
She smiles. “I guess.”
“I know you worry,” he continues. “But just because Mac likes his peace and quiet sometimes doesn’t mean you’re doing a bad job. Maybe we could even let him start sleeping in his nursery at night, you know, just see what happens?”
Just the mention of not having her son within arm’s length at night makes Amy freeze and a million nightmare scenarios flash through her head, and Jake laughs a little as he feels her shoulders tense. “Okay, I can tell that was too big of a step and you’re freaking out, so maybe not. But one day?”
“We’ll talk about it later,” she decides, carefully trying to pull her finger out of her son’s mouth. “Thanks, babe. I just really want to go back to sleep.”
 Mac’s eyes are fluttering, a telltale sign that he’s starting to fight his sleep, stretching his legs and letting out the most adorable of baby-sighs. Jake runs his thumb over his son’s forehead and nose in an attempt to make him relax, and shakes his head as Mac only forces his eyes open again.
“He’s lucky he’s so cute, isn’t he?”
“He’s lucky we love him,” Amy mumbles, trying and failing to stifle a yawn.
“Yeah. I mean, who needs a full night’s sleep anyway, right?” Jake says, and Amy just stares at him with a blank expression.
“I know you’re joking, but I would almost leave him in Charles’ hands for a night again if it meant I got a four-hour stretch, and that’s saying something.”
“Yeah.” Jake grimaces. “I shouldn’t have said that. Now I’m kind of thinking about it too.”
 Thinking that maybe Mac will repeat his magical streak of at least managing to fall asleep on his own, Amy tries to put him down in the cot again, but she’s barely moved before he lets out another unhappy cry. She lifts him upright against her chest again, biting her lip and trying not to feel defeated as she starts the hushing and rocking all over again.
“Hey, I can take him,” Jake says, reaching for him. “You need to sleep so you can stop crazy-spiraling, and I’ve barely held him all day. I’ll walk around with him outside for a while, that might do it.”
 It’s not the typical declarations of love they used to share, but as he puts the muslin blanket on his shoulder before taking Mac and getting out of bed with him, Amy’s confident that she’s never loved her husband more. This, right here, watching him with sleep-tousled curls in just his t-shirt and pajama pants as he adjusts his son and bounces him slightly in his arms while the crying turns into a more gentle fussing, is far hotter than any sex dream about Sanjay Gupta could ever be.
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myhockeyworld87 · 3 years
Text
Not So Dangerous Liaison - Sidney Crosby - Part 23
Word Count: 4,542
POV: Starts with the Reader then switches to Sid’s
Warngings: Language, NSFW, Smut
Notes: Sorry this is so late tonight, but well you know life, but here it is finally. Last when we saw these two, Sid had screwed up when he tried to apologize to (Y/N) and accused (Y/N) of flying back to Pittsburgh and sleeping with another man, his teammate. Now let’s find out what happened. As always love your feedback and Happy Reading! Let me know what you guys think.
Not So Dangerous Liaison Masterlist
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READER'S POV
 "Are you ok?" Matt asked, throwing an arm around you as your head hung low in your hands. You could tell by his soft voice he wasn't sure if you were crying or not. Oh, you could that was for sure, but not from sadness, it was out of anger.
"No," you mumbled, then stood up and started to pace the floor. "I'm pissed off."
 "I can tell," Cully answered as he watched you move around the great room.
 "Who does he think he is?" It was a rhetorical question, so Matt stayed quiet. "I can't believe he has the nerve to think that I would just fly home to Pittsburgh and just jump in bed with someone. And that for him to think that I would sleep with you!" That came out a bit harsher than you intended. "Not that you're not hot or anything, but you're Dad, you know, and then there's Bridget and…"
 "I get it, (Y/N)." Matt chimed in saving you from further embarrassment.
 "He's just so fucking frustrating." You plopped back down on the couch next to Matt. "He never asked me to move in, you know. He just thinks I'm a mind reader or something. I mean sure I would've loved to move in, had he asked, but did he? NO!" You fought the urge to jump off of the sofa and start pacing again. There was so much tension and frustration that was bundled up inside you, that you just needed to get this nervous energy out of your system. Instead, you reached for the carton of sweet and sour chicken you'd order and shoved a piece in your mouth. It tasted like the cardboard it came in, but that had nothing to do with the quality of the food and everything to do with the nasty after-taste your conversation with Sid had left in your mouth. "I don't really think I'm being unreasonable here…do you?"
 By the look on Matt's face, he was still trying to figure out what you'd said as you hadn't even swallowed the chicken before rambling again. He finished chewing his egg roll, like any normal civilized human being would, though at the moment you didn't feel normal or polite before he answered you. "First off, you're right he should've asked you about moving in." Matt could tell you were about to interrupt him, so he quickly continued. "And you're right about him jumping to a big conclusion about you sleeping with someone, though honestly, I'm quite a catch, just ask Bridget I'm sure she'll tell you that."
 "You are," you said giving him a little wink, even though you'd never looked at him that way.
 "Thank you, now as I was saying, and I'm not trying to make excuses for him here…"
 "I feel like there's a big but coming."
 "But," there it was, you saw it coming a mile away. "I've played with Sid for a year, but I've known him longer than that. You're like the first woman he's ever really had a relationship with. I just don't think he knows how to act." That couldn't be right, you thought. "I mean sure he's gone out on dates and taken someone to an event here or there but nothing like what the two of you have."
 You'd known that he'd been hesitant to get involved with you because he thought it would interfere with hockey but you hadn't really given much thought to him not having experience in a relationship, but what Cully was saying made some sense. "I mean think about it, (Y/N). Hockey has been his whole life until you walked in. He went from being this amazingly talented kid to a superstar center and he's had no chance to experience the stuff that went in between with it. And do you know why that is?"
 You shook your head no, wanting to hear what Cully's assessment was. "Because he's been afraid." Your brows knitted together as you tried to take in that concept. Sid wasn't afraid of anything that you knew of. Thankfully, Matt continued to explain this abstract notion to you. "He's afraid that he'll fail at it. With hockey he can control it, he can work at it. He can go out on the ice and shoot five hundred pucks until he gets that shot right. But this," Matt said, waving his hand in the air then back at you. "This thing he has with you. He has no control over it and that scares the hell out of him. There's no manual on how to be the perfect boyfriend or what to do when you have an argument, and he certainly can't go out to a rink and practice how to do it. He's afraid he'll make the wrong move, probably like he just did, and well…you'll be gone."
 Fuck. That was the only word echoing through your brain. You'd never looked at any of this through Sid's eyes, but you knew that Cully was right. You tossed your head back on the sofa cushion, looking up the ceiling for some sort of divine intervention on what you should do next. "He still shouldn't have said I was sleeping with you."
 "No, he shouldn't have." Matt attempted. "I guess the question is what do you want to do? Is what you have with Sid worth working things out? Are you brave enough to navigate the waters so to speak, where no one else has; helping him along?" You closed your eyes already knowing what you were going to do, but still thinking all your options out. "I remember a certain someone," he jabbed his elbow lightly into your ribs. "Being a bit insecure herself about dating a famous athlete not too long ago."
 You looked over at Matt, head still firmly planted into the headrest of the couch, and rolled your eyes. "Yeah, yeah, and Sid reassured me about everything." Now it was your turn to reassure him you supposed.
 "It's up to you what you want to do. The ball, or puck in your case, is in your rink so to speak."
 "I'm still mad at him," you told Cully, finally sitting upright on the couch.
 "Rightly so."
 "Which means he can stew a little bit longer."
 "Bridget would agree with you." You had to laugh at that because you had a feeling Matt's wife had left him in the dog house a time or two before he was actually forgiven.
 Blowing out a long breath, you'd come to your decision. "But I will forgive him."
 "That's my girl," Cully said then handed back over your Chinese carton to continue eating. "Now that that's settled. Can we finish eating?"
 It was a couple hours later before Matt left for the evening. "Promise me you won't let him wait forever before talking to him."
 "I won't." Though you did want him to suffer just a bit longer.
 "Good, because I have a feeling he'll be blowing up my phone until you talk to him." You walked Matt to the door.
 "Sorry, you got dragged into this mess."
 Matt leaned in and kissed your head like any dutiful dad would that was helping his daughter. "Get some rest. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
 "Night, and thanks again."
 SID'S POV
 You turned over for what had to be the hundredth time in the last hour and looked at the clock. Which literally read twelve minutes after three. Exactly seven minutes from the last time you'd looked at it. Why hadn't she called already? Was she going to? She probably hated you and she had every right to. You were so fucking stupid accusing her of sleeping with someone when all you wanted to do was apologize for the first fuck up you'd made the night before. Instead, you'd gone and made things a million times worth.
 The tone of her voice said it all. (Y/N) was pissed beyond words at the accusation and you knew that had she been standing in front of you she probably would've smacked you across the face; deservingly so. There was no point in laying in bed and staring at four walls so you got up and went to blow off some steam by working out, though it didn't help.
 You were a walking zombie by the time training practice rolled around though you put every ounce of effort you had into it, at least when you weren't checking your phone to see if (Y/N) had called. She hadn't. Physically, you were exhausted and it was only six o'clock at night. Nate suggested going out for dinner but you couldn't stomach the thought of eating a nice meal knowing that your relationship was barely hanging on by a thread, so you opted out and instead just grabbed some takeout at home.
 You'd spoken to Matt a couple times, though all he would say was to give (Y/N) time. How much time though? That was the real question. Should you be jumping on a plane and flying down to Pittsburgh at this very moment or would that make this worse? You'd really made a mess of things and had no clue how to fix it.
 Sleep evaded you again that night, even though you were both mentally and physically exhausted. You finally fell asleep around four-thirty in the morning only to have the alarm go off at six. You dragged yourself out of bed and headed off to train, hoping that it would take your mind off things.
 "You look like shit, man," Nate told you as soon as you walked into the building. "You sure you want to be here today."
 "What else am I going to do?"
 Nate shrugged not having an answer of his own for you. "Have you at least talked to (Y/N)?"
 "No, I haven't called her. I'm trying to give her time."
 Nate looked you up and down a few times assessing you and weighing his words before he spoke again. "I know you're trying to give her space, but maybe you should go see her. I've never seen you like this man."
 "I want to." All you wanted to do was get on a plane and head straight to her. "I'm just not sure it won't make things worse."
 "I know she wanted you to stay and train, but honestly Sid, neither one of us is going to be pushing hard when you're completely exhausted. I'm not saying to fly back and stay in Pittsburgh. Just go there and work things out with her." Nate clapped you on the back. "For both our sakes."
 Maybe he was right. You could just fly down for the day and come right back. All you needed to do was call and get a plane. "You're right. As soon as we're done today, I'm going to call and get it all set up. I've got to win her back."
 "That's the spirit."
 Training went a little better as you formulated a plan to win back (Y/N). You were even smiling some at the end of the day. "So as soon as we get that Tim Horton's shoot done, I'm flying out. Think we can get it done by four tomorrow afternoon?" You asked Nate as you grabbed your bag and headed out of the facility. "The plane can be ready by five, so that gives me an hour to get to the airport. Think that's enough time?"
 You were looking at your schedule on your phone making sure that you could fit everything in before flying and not paying attention when you heard Nate say, "I don't think you have to worry about making that plane." You looked up at Nate not knowing why he would say such a thing when he was the one that suggested you go to Pittsburgh in the first place. He nodded his head pointing in the direction of your Suburban. There stood (Y/N) leaning up against your car.  
 You blinked once and then repeated the action, not believing that she was really there. It had to be some sort of dream. Were you hallucinating? Lack of sleep could do that to a person. But as you drew near, it became evident that she was standing there in the flesh and blood. She looked stunning, wearing a plain belted t-shirt dress; her hair tied back in a simple ponytail, with little wisps framing her face. God, you'd missed her.
 "Hey (Y/N)." Nate's voice brought you out of your musing and you shook yourself, trying to regain your composure.
 "Hi Nate," she waved back, before pushing off the vehicle.
 "Good luck," Nate told then took off for his own car.
 You were too busy staring at the woman in front of you though to pay any attention to Nate. "Hi," you whispered in a small voice, one that was shaky and unsure of how to proceed.
 "Hi, Sidney." You found yourself frown at her use of your name. It wasn't Sid, or babe, or hun, or any of the other million nicknames she called you. "Can we talk?" You wanted to, that was your whole point of planning to go to Pittsburgh for a whirlwind of twelve to sixteen hours, but now that (Y/N) was standing here, you had no idea what to say.
 "Yeah," was the only word that came out of your mouth and you wanted to kick yourself for not saying anything more.
 "Not here," she said motioning to the parking lot.
 No, this wasn't exactly an ideal place to have an intimate conversation about your relationship. "Did you want to go back to the house?" Oh god, maybe that was a bad suggestion. "Or we could go grab something to eat?" Even though that was the last thing you wanted to do.
 "The house is fine." She opened the passenger door and then crawled inside the car before you could say anything else. It took you a minute to gather yourself and walk around to the driver's side. You'd planned on coming up with a whole speech to say to her while you were on the plane. Now you had exactly nine and half minutes, if there was traffic, to think of how you were going to apologize to the woman you loved.
 The ride was silent except for the radio playing in the background. It was weird to drive like this with her. Normally your hands would be interlaced resting on the console in the middle of the car as you drove with your free hand, but as you glanced over you saw that she was sitting on hers. A clear sign that you were not supposed to touch her. It killed you and so your hands remained at ten and two on the steering wheel in a white-knuckle grip as you fought the urge not to reach over and grab her.
 You glanced every so often at her, wondering what was going through her mind. It killed you that she wasn't saying anything. "How was your flight?" you finally blurted out when you were halfway home.
 "It was good. Had a bit of a layover in Philly. So not as good as flying privately with you."
 That flight was one you wouldn't forget. It was the first time you'd been thirty thousand feet in the air and buried deep inside (Y/N). Definitely an experience you'd thought you'd be repeating again. You hadn't expected that you'd be in the car with her now wondering if you still had a relationship.
 By the time you pulled into the driveway, your nerves were shot, wondering if (Y/N) had flown all the way just to break up with you. You tried to think logically and tell yourself that if she wanted to do that, she would've done it on the phone, but knowing (Y/N), she would have to tell you that in person and not take the cowardly way out. She followed you into the house, where you sat your bag down at the door before Sammy came wondering up for her nightly pats. "Hey Sammy, how are you sweet girl?" (Y/N) said bending down to show your dog more affection than she'd shown you.
 You coughed trying to work the lump that was in your throat out. "Can I get you something to drink?"
 "A water would be great." You grabbed two bottles out of the fridge, opening hers like you always did, before handing it over to her, both of you taking a drink.
 "(Y/N), I'm…" you started to say right as (Y/N) said "Sid, I…" The two of you laughed, even though it was hollow, it still broke the tension.
 "Do you mind if I go first?" (Y/N) asked though she didn't really need to as you'd gladly give her anything as long as she didn't say she never wanted to see you again. "I hope you know that I would never, not in a million years, cheat on you. I'm not sure how you jumped to that conclusion but I'm not that kind of person, Sid. If I wanted to be with someone else, I'd be upfront with you and tell you. I wouldn't go running off and sneak behind your back."
 When she took a breath, you jumped in. "I know that (Y/N). I truly do. I don't have an excuse for why I said that other than to say that I was jealous and upset, but I'm truly sorry for saying it. I don't know how I can make it up to you."
 "I just don't understand why you think that. Have I ever given you a reason to believe that I would do something like that?"
 "NO!" You shouted, not really yelling at her but wanting her to know it wasn't her fault. "I'm just stupid. Stupid and crazy in love with you, and sometimes…" you blew out a breath. "I'm just so worried I'm going to lose you or you won't love me anymore. I'm not good at this (Y/N). I've never had a relationship last over a couple weeks. I'm afraid I'll do something wrong and push you away, but that's what I did anyhow."
 "Sid," (Y/N) said taking your hands in hers. You relished even that small contact. "You're not going to lose me or do something wrong." She moved a step closer to you, and you breathed in the intoxicating fragrance that was (Y/N). "I love you silly, and yes I was upset that you didn't see my point about staying here, and we both did stupid things, but that doesn't mean I stopped loving you." Her hand came up and cupped your cheek and you found yourself melting into her touch. "We both need to learn to communicate better. No more running away, for either of us." You were surprised she was including herself in this part, but you supposed she considered taking an earlier flight to Pittsburgh running away as well. "Do you think we can do that?"
 "Of course, if you think you can forgive me for being a selfish jerk and wanting you with me all the time."
 She rocked her head from side to side a small little smile playing across her lips. "I think I can do that. Besides, I kind of like that you want me around all the time."
 You pulled her close, so that no distance separated the two of you, as you wrapped your arms around her waist. "You do huh?"
 "MmmHmm." It was then that she leaned up and captured your lips. God, she tasted like heaven. It had been almost four days since you'd kissed her, yet it felt like four million years. You poured all your love into the kiss hoping to show her how much you not only loved her but how sorry you were for everything that you had done.
 When the two of you finally came up for air, you asked her, "So when are you flying back? Tell me that there won't be a car here in fifteen minutes to pick you up."
 "It's actually thirty."
 "That would've been so much more convincing if you weren't smirking the entire time," you told her giving her hips a little squeeze.
 "You're stuck with me until Sunday night. That is if I can stay?"
 "Are you crazy? Of course, you can stay, but where's your stuff?" You distinctly remember seeing her have only her purse with her when she was leaning against the car.
 "Oh, well. I stashed it in the garage before I had the car drop me off at the rink."
 "So, you mean to tell me you planned on forgiving me all along?"
 "I had some very good advice from a mutual friend, that lead me here." She had to be referring to Cully. You definitely owed him when you got back in town.
 "Well, I'll be sure to thank him." You dropped a kiss to her lips again, just needing to touch her in any way possible. "Did you want to go out for dinner? I can change and be ready in ten minutes."
 Her arms tightened around your neck, as your hands moved up and down her sides. "I'd rather just stay in and order if you don't mind."
 "Not at all," you answered with a raise of your eyebrows. "Though there is something I have to ask you." She pulled back slightly and cocked her head to the side in question. "I was stupid before to assume that you'd just move in with me. So now, this is me asking. (Y/N), I know I can be extremely difficult and stupid at times, but there's nothing I want more than to go to sleep every night lying beside you and to have you wake up next to me every morning. Any chance of making this happen?"
 You could see her thinking it over and you weren't sure if she was trying to be cute and make you wait for an answer or if she truly had concerns. "I would love to, on one condition." It was your turn to give her that questioning look. "If it becomes too much, you know being with each other at home and at work; you'll tell me so I can move back to my place."
 "Babe, it's not going to be too much. I don't want you six feet from me now. That's not going to change."
 "I know but if it does…"
 "If it does, we'll talk about it. Like mature adults. I will not storm out of the house and go stay with Geno." She laughed then, the sound music to your ears.
 "Well, then Mr. Crosby it looks like you just got yourself a roommate."
 "And a pretty one at that," you said kissing her soundly on the lips. "Now, what would you like for dinner?"
 "Maybe we should skip that and go straight for dessert?" (Y/N) was peppering you with kisses and making it hard to concentrate. This was your first fight and you weren't sure if you should just give in and go all out for makeup sex or take things slow and continue to talk things over at dinner. The last thing you needed was to make another mistake that's for sure.
 Pulling back ever so slightly from the embrace, you gazed at (Y/N). "Are you sure about skipping dinner?"
 (Y/N)'s hand slid down to your crotch where she cupped your ever-growing erection. "Yes, I missed you." You didn't ask anything more, knowing that you could always order a pizza later. Instead, your lips captured hers, stealing her breath away before you scooped her up in your arms and headed upstairs. One kiss melted into another and then to another until you were laying her down on the bed that you'd shared only days ago. The same one that had felt too big without her lying beside you.
 The two of you were a mess of tangled limbs and you weren't sure who was removing what clothing. All you knew is that neither one of you could be naked fast enough. Your lips traveled down her neck until you sucked on her nipples. Her body arching into your mouth greedily. One hand slid down her stomach, parting her thighs, leaving her open and wanting for you, as your lips started to travel the same path. (Y/N) stopped you though, her hands cradling your cheeks. "I need you inside me." As much as you wanted to feast on her pussy, the pleading tone in her voice had you giving in to not only her wants but yours as well.
 You settled yourself between her legs, grabbing her hips and edging her just that inch or two closer. You could feel the heat radiating off her body even before your cock slid between her folds. She was deliciously wet, and being inside her felt like coming home after a two-week road trip. (Y/N) was everything. She was your shelter from the worst storm. The light when only darkness surrounded you. There was no other woman in the world that was made for you like she was, and with every thrust of your hips and every kiss from your lips, you tried to tell her that. You would articulate it all into words for her later when you were holding her in your arms, but for now, you let your body speak them for you.
 Her legs started to tremble, and you could feel her fluttering around your cock, as she took you in deeper and deeper. You knew she was close and with a few more thrust, you felt her lose control. "I love you," she cried out, right as she hit that peak, and it was those words that sent you spiraling over the edge with her. Your own declaration of love spilling from your lips.
 The two of you laid there for some time. Soft kisses being exchanged here and there as your breathing returned to normal. "I don't ever want to fight with you again," you told her, as your fingers trailed up and down her heated flesh.
 "Me either." She agreed before kissing you soundly. "Though the makeup sex, was kind of fun."
 You shook your head at her, a soft chuckle escaping you. Sex with (Y/N) was always great. "While that was pretty amazing, I'd rather not have you absent from my life and my bed for four days. I was a mess without you." Just then your stomach growled. "I haven't eaten a decent meal since this whole thing went down."
 "Well then, we better feed you before you wither away to nothing." She reached over and grabbed her phone. "I'll cook for you tomorrow. Tonight, you're getting takeout and then after that, I plan on making up for lost time."
 "Sounds good, but I also plan on stocking up for our days apart." You wrapped your arms around her tightly, hating the thought that she'd be leaving in just a few short days, but you knew that when you finally got back in Pittsburgh, she would be there waiting for you, this time ready to build a home with you.  
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helpinghanikan · 3 years
Text
Sleeping arrangements
Avengers (and Matt Murdock x Reader)
Sum:  It's late and the bed is so nice. It's time to sleep and to bring your heroes along with you. (Fluffy little snippets of sleepy time with the Avengers)
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Steve Rogers:
It’s the last train home and only one thing in this world is warm. The wall of Steve Rogers your head rested against was beating softly through the jacket and shirt he wore. Keeping your arms around his center to keep any of the heat from getting away. His own arm protects around your shoulders, keeping you in and gibing his hand something to do instead.
He could’ve driven, he should’ve driven, instead he wanted to take the train. He wanted to walk around like he did years and years before, but this time with your hands intertwined.
Although far away the train has started to shake the earth. Taking you out of the almost sleeping world and back into this cold one. The change in worlds brings out a yawn and lets the cold back in. It’s been a long day. With your eyes closed and clothes heavier than they could ever be Steve was the only thing keeping you up. His chin rests on your head after a while, thumb rubbing over your shoulder as the train finally pulled to a stop.
Inside it was the same story but in a seated position. Guided into his lap and landing with a groan as it was just so much work. The practically empty strain allowed your legs to stretched straight out over the seats.
Steve could stay awake longer than most, but he was tired. He was cold and annoyed and really wished he had driven instead of taking this stupid train. He took his frustration out on squeezing you tight, holding on as if you were liable to fall right out of the seat if he let go. At least it was warmer inside the train.
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Tony Stark:
Someone staying up late, not getting enough sleep, and making exhaustion their personality trait is funny for maybe week. But After days of trying to coax him to come to bed, to try something other than just giving up on sleep or even talking to a doctor it gets concerning. After weeks of these same issues, it becomes frustrating.
Everyone, from Pepper to Peter have done their fair share of lecturing. Happy has gone out of his way in helping you get the dumbass to appointments. All of which he has walked right out because, unfortunately, he was still an adult who could make his own decisions.
It’s only after using the nuclear word that he pays attention.
“Anthony,” You say just before he leaves the room.
Although speaking to his back he does stop. His shoulders have tensed under the t-shirt and he’s listening in.
There’s an audio book’s worth of things you could say about this issue. But it would all be a repeat that he’s heard before, from many different mouths. Instead, you kept it simple, not even bothering to turn on the light.
“You didn’t even try.” It comes out from a tired partner just wanting the best for him. Yet Tony walks away from the advice, again.
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Thor:
Power doesn’t stop for sleep. It’s still in the air when he’s laying sideways towards the window. Because of the whole nighttime thing it’s hard to tell if clouds are actually coming in or darkening. Maybe you’re just insane but Mr. Weatherman didn’t say anything about rain tonight, right?
It was a jolt that really woke you up. Looking over your shoulder at the expanse of muscular back. Thor movements were always a bit too…loud for this world. Whether running through a fight or moving in his sleep it calls attention to everyone. He doesn’t mean to, but it does wake you up enough to see your glass is dryer as a bone.
As if reading your mind, the rain has come down. It could almost be described as torrential how hard it was all coming down. Matching the dramatics of rain, a lightning strike coming straight down into some poor tree.
This wasn’t the first time Thor had a nightmare. Asgardians just seemed to be humans 2.0, making Thor just as a victim to horror as we humans are. At the same time, he was still another worldly being, translating to giving him a few feet when waking him up.
Another strike of lightening and another tree is taken out of this world. Without the lights on that blast was your only moment of lightening. The rest of the journey made to Thor’s side of the bed was done in darkness and pounding rain. Following the outlined Asgardian until reaching his shoulder. A gentle hand on his should does nothing. A little shake and a whispered “Thor,” finally does the trick.
The two strikes of lightening outside somehow reached his eyes. For the briefest of seconds blue, cracking energy is directed right at you. Stopping just as quickly as they appeared, replaced with Thor’s regular blue eyes that blink a few times.
“What is it?” he asks.
There’s no point in telling him the truth about his nightmares and their effect. Then again, there’s no point in lying either. Instead, it’s better to distract. “It’s still super early. Back to bed.” You say instead, kissing with until he takes the hit and holds you.
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Bucky Barnes:
Sleep is a luxury that isn’t worth chasing. With the pillows and sheets there were nightmares and enemies that could sense his weakness. Trying to get at least six hours and all that guarantees is waking up sweaty and a call to doc, making sure to get everything back in order before you could ever notice.
Instead, he takes walks. Maps out the city at night, the changes and differences that happened without him. He recognizes the buildings, the structures and bricks that were too strong to be a victim to time.
Most of the time he does this alone. Watching a show about nothing until you were asleep before starting his walk. But there were times you catch him, calling out to him like the neighborhood cat trying to get away. Getting on your own shoes and jacket quickly. Then enforcing the handholding during the little adventure.
It’s only when passing by something important that words are shared. “One of my buddies worked here when this place was a mechanic. Broke his leg just before the draft, I still think it was on purpose.” He’d say then never bring it up again.
These walks are always shorter than most. After two times Bucky learned when to make the loop back home with you. When your building comes back into view the handholding has gotten sweaty. The walking had slowed to a crawl and you were dragging him down by the arm. Even less talking was done after getting through the door; just landing face down onto the bed without bothering about the shoes.
These kind of walks were Bucky’ favorite.
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Natasha Romanoff:
The bed was used almost exclusively for sleeping. As the couch was both comfy and expensive. And, as Nat puts it, “Should we do it with the lights off too? Under the covers like grandparents?” Although it was probably another reason to use the overpriced couch more often.
Like any good, and overworked, soldier Nat could sleep anywhere. When a mission is done, and there’s nothing to worry about, a shower and a nap is the best in the world.
“I smell nice,” She says walking into the living after the shower. Steam still behind her, hair wrapped up and a sweater purposefully bought to be several sizes too big.
She stretches and lays over you like a cat. Resting as close as possible so you, too, can smell the expensive shampoo she uses. Making sure that the body wash isn’t ignored either as that, too, was expensive.
“Might as well spend this pay on something,” She says when asked about the prices.
Although she asks what you’re up to she won’t be awake for the answer. Already teetering into sleep land when you answer.
Natasha was as athletic as she was heavy. Only sometimes managing to carry her bridal style and most of the time having to walk/guide her into the bedroom. Either letting her drop onto the bed with the same weight you had carried in, or she holds fast and takes you down with her.
Just like a cat, Natasha gets to decide cuddle time.
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T’challa:
Although the mattress was new, the bed’s size was traditional, and passed on through generations of rulers. Forget California king bed, A Wakanda king bed was that and a half. Ten feet length, twelve feet tall. Combined with blankets, pillows and more it was easy to disappear into the thing. But it was also easy to get lost in it all.
In the middle of the night, in the very center of this ocean of bed, you can reach out forever. Finding pillows (both the decorative and the usable kind), smaller blankets or stuffed animals that have managed to be added. But it’s a tiresome journey, one that doesn’t seem to have an end even as you stretched to pointed toes and fingers.
It’s only after touching body heat that you can relax. Finally finding your king that turns to your touch. Making his own journey through sheets and bedding. Using you as the trail into his love. Neither of you thinking about the absolute nightmare it will be to make this bed tomorrow.
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Pietro Maximoff:
For most of his life Pietro is moving. Be it running or just running his mouth, he’s not the kind of guy to sit still. Unfortunately, this also applies to sleeping.
“He’s been sleep walking since we were children,” Wanda once said. “Our father once found him crying in a puddle. He had slipped and woken up in the street. He’ll deny crying, though.”
As an adult Pietro doesn’t actively get up and walk around anymore. The man made up of strong and lean muscle still moves quite a bit. Waking up from freezing feet finding yours or because he’s sat upright in bed again. Using soft, but firm, pressure to get him to lay back down or to guide him back to his side of the bed. If you weren’t careful his arms would find you, almost dragging you back to his side of the bed.
He'd deny it in the morning. Smiling with barely open eyes as you’re still pressed against him. No matter how much you’re going to insist this was his fault he’d still mock you. Nuzzling in since you insist on cuddling so much.
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Peter Parker:
There’s a time limit next when sitting next to Peter. You have ten minutes before his head finds your shoulder. If you don’t shrug or lean away he’ll stay there, slowly leaning in until he’s all settled.
Although not completely asleep he does rest. If your hands are held in those moments you could probably feel his pulse slow down as his breathing slows. Maybe his eyes manage to stay open, but his eyes do get heavy. Someone could say his name, and he’d respond, but it be from his throat. An annoyed groan directed to whoever was ruining this moment. Even if it was usually a teacher or adult.
It’s only when traveling, and you’re sitting for a while, that he completely falls asleep. Progressing past just leaning his head and adding his arms. If you allow him, putting an arm around your back and the other over your center. With your own arm over his back, he sleeps in a position that, although sweet, always left a pain in his neck. Something he’d complain about until you ask if he want’s you to rub his shoulders.
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Stephen Strange:
During aura projection Stephen’s body is dead weight. No muscles or bone working with the individual trying to help them. It’s just taken over by gravity and his entire weight wants to be on the floor. Sleep does the same thing.
Short of a bucket of water to his face he won’t wake up. Part of his experience in med school was taking every bit of use sleep could give him. Which leads to sleeping fast, and sleeping hard, usually opened mouth. No snoring yet, but the moment he does there’s an open target for shutting him up.
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Matt Murdock:
It’s a mixture of meditation and caffeine that he is still functioning. Too busy, much too busy, as a lawyer for the two of you to share a bed most of the time. Making any comments you have about his sleep schedule mute.
Watching him doesn’t change give any information either. Coffee in the morning, some deep breathing and self-centering in the between moments at work, and sleep ins on days off were all you could gather. Between that it’s easier to just assume he’s fine.
Just laugh at his “not like I need to rest my eyes,” jokes and move on.
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Carol Danvers:
After going through every time change known to man, alien and beyond Carol has developed a very specific still. Carol Danvers, woman with the power of a star and to sleep literally anywhere at any time. Be it a cleared-out corner of some ship, an open floor that keeps her hidden from passersby or on your lap. The latter being her personal favorite.
Like a massive golden retriever, she wants to be in the middle of your lap. Close as possible with a arm holding around your shoulder and the other on her toy, or phone.  A being of wiry muscle and heat keeping you pinned to the couch. Most of the time she’s out ten minutes into the movie, most of the time the remotes’ out of reach, and most of the time you gotta go pee.
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dirty-urie · 3 years
Text
Little Brendon
Second Person
Brendon x Female Reader
PFTW Era
Fluff(ish) Oneshot
PG-13? R?
3.6k Words
Warnings In Order of Appearance: real person fic, language throughout, arguably slight smut, minor dirty talk
Author's Notes:
1. I don't know how I got this idea or what possessed me to actually write it, to be honest, but I had fun, so I guess that's all that matters.
2. Posting this in honor of the anniversary of the show I went to on the first leg of the Wicked tour, which was technically yesterday, but this fic wasn’t done yesterday, so here it is now.
“Awww, little Brendon,” you gush at the computer screen.
“Please tell me you aren’t looking at pictures of my penis,” Brendon says, walking into the room.
You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Not that your ego couldn’t use a little bruising, but no, I’m not cooing at your nudes. Merch wants you to sign off on the final photos of the Beebo plush, and look how cute he is!” You shift the computer monitor so he can see what you’re looking at.
“Why are you going through my email?”
“You always ignore emails from Merch, and I like looking at all of the new Panic designs!”
“Babe, I work ten hours a day; I don’t want to do anything I don’t have to. Merch will use whatever designs they think will sell well. They don’t actually need my approval. Those sign-off emails are just a formality.”
You pout. “I know, I know. I won’t go through your email anymore.”
“Good,” he says, relieved. "I wouldn’t want you to discover all the messages from my mistresses.”
“You’re a jackass,” you call, flipping him off as he leaves the room with a smirk.
***
“I’m gonna miss you,” you pout, leaning against the door frame to your bedroom.
He kisses your forehead and puts another pair of sweatpants in a suitcase. “You can’t wait for me to leave. You get to have the girls over, watch all your shitty movies, and you won’t have to deal with my dirty underwear or noisy video games in your nice living room.”
You take the t-shirt he’s about to pack out of his hands and throw it on the bed, pulling him into a kiss. You slip your hands under the waistband of his pants to grope his ass. You pull away. “Mhm, that’s what I thought. I don’t ever have to deal with dirty underwear because you never wear any.”
“Hey! Don’t slut-shame me! You love having such easy access to this body.” He gestures to his body with a strange flailing arm motion.
“You know what? You’re right. I can’t wait for you to leave.”
He side-eyes you. “Well, in that case, you won’t want the present I got you.” He shrugs, refolding his shirt.
Your eyes light up, and you go kiss him again. “Have I ever told you how much I love you? Because it’s a lot. Enough to justify a really nice present,” You say after he pulls away.
“That’s what I thought. I guess you’ll get your present after all. Close your eyes,” Brendon says.
You close your eyes, and he hands you something soft. You open your eyes, and it’s Brendon’s likeness in plush form. He’s wearing Brendon’s tour outfit with a gold jacket over a black tee and black leather pants.
“Little Brendon!” you exclaim, seeing the toy in your hands. “Aww, it’s even got your lips and little eyebrow scar! Thank you, babe.” You kiss him and then Little Brendon. “Now I have someone to keep me company while you’re off getting bitches on tour.”
“Oh, come on, babe,” he says, putting his hand on your shoulder and looking into your eyes, “they’re not bitches, they’re groupies.”
You smack his arm affectionately and then push him onto the bed to crawl on top of him. “Maybe you should practice for the groupies. Wouldn’t want you to kill their rockstar fantasies because you’re out of experience.”
He flips you over and rolls on top of you, nipping at your neck. “Out of experience? What, pray tell, have we been doing every day for the past two weeks, if not building my experience?” he asks with disbelief, punctuating each point with a bite or kiss. “Remember when I made you come twelve times in one hour before I let myself come? Or when we fucked on the roof of my studio when the neighbors were out of town? Or when you fucked my ass with that new toy, the one that vibrates?”
“Shit, shit, point taken,” you moan, grinding up against him while he bears down on you.
His phone pings, and he slows his hips to grab it from the side table. “Fuck, Zack’s out front. I’ve gotta go.”
You grab the front of his shirt and yank him down for a deep, dirty kiss.
He’s reluctant to pull away, but his other love is calling. Tour, that is, not Zack.
“Okay, let me up, loverboy. I’ll help bring your stuff out to the car,” you tell him.
“Thank you. Most of my instruments and stuff are already with the guys, but I’ve still got two suitcases and a backpack.”
You both stand up, and he grabs the suitcases, leaving you with the backpack. “You’re not gonna readjust, rockstar?” You ask, eyeing his tented sweatpants.
He shrugs, “My hands are full, and it’s nothing Zack hasn’t seen before.”
“You just like showing off,” you accuse, and he smirks a little and winks because you’re not wrong.
You walk him to the car and give him a final goodbye kiss. “I love you to death. Knock their socks off, babe.”
***
Without fail, the one-week mark hits you like a truck. You’ve had your fun with girlfriends, and you’ve enjoyed the peace and quiet, but your bed is empty, and it’s weighing on your chest. Even the puppies seem a little more glum without Brendon.
You feel silly, but finally, after two nights of crying yourself to sleep, you give in and grab little Brendon from your dresser and cuddle up with him.
***
Two weeks later and you and the real Brendon are half-asleep, snuggled up against each other in the nicest hotel room in Houston. You can only spend two nights with him, and you refuse to let him go for even a second more than you have to. Which he did not appreciate when he had to use the bathroom, but it’s his fault for leaving you for so long.
“Baby, I’ve got an interview, but I’ll bring back breakfast, and we’ll eat in bed, okay? I’m really sorry,” He whispers apologetically, peeling away from you.
“Don’t be sorry, it’s what you have to do to pay the bills. Can you hand me Little B? He’s in my purse,” you ask, and Brendon obliges without comment, probably just happy you’re not crying.
You fall back asleep with the little guy in your arms.
Brendon knows it’s irrational when he comes back three hours later at 8 am, and he feels a tiny twinge of jealousy at the plush you’re cuddled up with. However, he feels it is not irrational that he’s upset when he climbs into bed with you, and instead of immediately clinging to him like always, you just clutch Little Brendon harder. Almost as if protecting the toy from Brendon.
“Y/N, I’m back,” he whispers in your ear, half-hoping you’ll throw the doll on the ground and roll over to make burning hot love to him for 12 hours straight. That’ll show Little Brendon. Well, no, it won’t, he has stuffing where his brain should be, but it’ll show him on principle.
You do roll over to throw an arm across him, but you still have little Brendon tucked under your other arm.
Brendon decides to call this one a draw.
“Did you bring food?” You mumble.
“Of course, darling. I’ll do anything to spoil you. That’s one of the perks of having a driver’s license and sentience.”
“…What?”
“Nothing. I’ll get your food.”
He insists on feeding you and rubbing your feet, and letting you watch whatever you want on the hotel TV. And it’s just because he wants to take care of you while you two are together. Definitely no other reason. He certainly feels no joy at the sight of Little Brendon lying discarded on the nightstand. Point Real Brendon.
After the day of pampering, it pains you when you check the clock, and it’s time to leave. “Alright, I’ve gotta head out, B. I can’t miss my flight,” you finally say, changing from Brendon’s T-shirt into real clothes.
Brendon thinks about protesting, but he knows better. You have your own life apart from him, and he respects that.
You cram your stuff in your overnight bag and give your goodbye hugs and kisses to Brendon. Then you kiss Little B before throwing him in your purse. You think you see Brendon scowl at your new companion, but you were probably just imagining it.
***
“Surprise!” Brendon shouts as he opens the door.
“Babe! Thank god I sent the strippers home early,” you joke as he sits next to you on the couch.
“Shit, I missed the strippers?”
“You fucking goof,” you laugh, playing with his hair. “What are you doing home early?”
“Nicole needed to come home for some emergency with her house, so I figured I’d charter the plane and zip down with her and Zack to spend the night with my beautiful wife.”
“God, that must’ve cost an arm and a leg, B.”
He shrugs, “Nah, we were only in Portland anyway, and it’s easier than finding a new bassist on short notice. This way, Nicole and I can be back for the San Jose show tomorrow night, and I get a whole twelve hours at home with my girl and my puppies.”
“Oh, well, I’m glad it worked out for everyone. Especially me,” you say, shifting to sit in Brendon’s lap.
You two finish up the episode you were watching before you insist that he comes to bed because he’s overworked and jetlagged. He’s sleepy and doesn’t need that much convincing, but he tries to put up a fight anyway.
“I only get a little bit of time with you; I don’t want to spend it sleeping,” he complains.
“This is the hardest I’ve ever had to work to get you in my bed,” you respond, yanking him to his feet.
His eyes light up, and you shake your head. “No, sir. We’re not having sex. You’re getting at least seven hours of sleep in your own bed with the love of your life, and then you’re going to take a shower, make me breakfast, and give San Jose the show of their lives. You’ll literally see me again in two days when I come to the LA show.”
He bites his lip, still trying to lay the seduction on thick.
“No! Bed! Or I’m making you sleep in the guest room!”
He sighs, trudging along behind you to the bedroom.
“Um, babe, I think you forgot to kick out your mistress before I got home,” he says, gesturing to his side of the bed where little Brendon is tucked into the comforter.
You scowl playfully. “Oh, shush you. Where else should I put him while making the bed?”
“I don’t know, but letting my replacement sleep in my spot feels a little on the nose.”
“He’s not your replacement, baby.”
“Really?” Brendon asks, picking up Little Brendon and getting into bed, “because” he sniffs Little Brendon’s head, “I’m pretty sure Little Brendon is wearing my fifty dollar cologne.”
You blush, “Okay, well I take him everywhere, and I didn’t want him to smell, and it’s not like I could use any of my perfumes…” you taper off, realizing that you may have given yourself away with the ‘take him everywhere’ line.
He narrows his eyes but doesn’t say anything else before clicking out the light.
“Hey, Brendon?” You ask quietly.
“Mm?”
“Um, what did you do with Little B?”
Brendon clicks on the light. “Ah-ha! J’accuse! You’ve replaced me!”
“I just don’t want the dogs to rip him up and then leave me to clean up stuffing all morning!” You defend yourself.
“Well then, you won’t mind me putting him up on the dresser.”
“Of course, I won’t mind.”
Brendon puts Little B on the dresser and goes back to bed, so imagine his surprise when instead of waking up tangled in your arms the next morning, he’s not even touching you on the king bed. Instead, you’re hugging Little Bastard with your nose buried in his fabric hair.
Little B’s smirk taunts Brendon as he storms out of bed to make his damn wife breakfast. His damn wife.
***
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna come,” you whine, rubbing your hips frantically.
“Come,” he commands. “Let me see that pretty mouth fall open as you come all over our bedsheets, pretty girl.”
The angle on your clit is perfect, and the image of him getting off on your phone right along with you pushes you into bliss, and your orgasm rocks through your core. You know you’ve affected him when you hear him grunt as come rolls down his fist.
“God, babe, you’re incredible, from a completely different country, fuck, a completely different continent, you still turn me on like crazy,” he admires.
“I could say the same about you. I came so hard just from getting to hear and see you.” You tell him before accidentally dropping your phone. “Shit, sorry, my fingers are a little wet.
Brendon would normally just be admiring the soaked panties he’s getting a glimpse of, but instead, his attention is drawn between your thighs for a different reason.
“Were you getting off by humping Little Brendon?!”
“It’s not what it looks like, okay?” You say, picking up the phone. “He’s the perfect firmness, and he’s way easier to manage than a clunky pillow! It’s purely physical!”
Brendon scoffs, “I’ve bought you thousands of dollars in sex toys, and you turn to him? In our marital bed? I’m being cuckolded by polyester!”
“Brendon, it’s a stuffed animal, not the pool boy. You come back from England in three days, and you can fuck me however you want. Y’know, because of your functioning dick, tongue, and fingers?”
“Just as long as I don’t come back to find you rimming the stuffed tiger from Calvin and Hobbes,” he teases with a smile.
“Hm, is degrading Winnie the Pooh out of the question, too, then? because if that’s the case, then I’ll need to find different plans for tomorrow evening.”
He gives you a pointed look, feigning seriousness before cracking a grin. “Alright, alright, thank you for the orgasm. I’ll see you on Tuesday,” he says before blowing you a kiss before hanging up.
“That plush better count his days,” Brendon mumbles to himself before falling asleep.
***
“Do you want me to go with you to the store?” He offers.
“No, baby, enjoy some of your time at home. I’ll just bring my other husband for emotional support.” You toss Little Brendon in your purse.
“I remember when I was your emotional support at the grocery store…” Brendon starts, looking off into the distance.
“Yeah, me too, and you were terrible. You hated it. Rest assured, I’ll make you come back to the grocery store another time, but right now, I’m being nice because you just got back from tour. And you still have the dishes and the vacuuming to do.”
“Aye, aye, captain. Don’t let the paparazzi catch you smooching Little Brendon while I’m at home doing your dirty work,” he calls as you leave.
“No promises! He’s very tempting!”
***
“You never snuggle with me anymore,” Brendon pouts after you reject his advances in bed.
“It’s August, and you’re hot,” you complain, and he gives you a suggestive look. “Not that kind of hot, Casanova. I mean two minutes in, and you’re sweating all over me. It’s uncomfortable.”
“You snuggled with Little Brendon when I was gone!” He accuses.
“Yes, because I’ve grown accustomed to sleeping with something in my arms, and Little Brendon doesn’t sweat, or snore, or wake me up in the morning with his cock pressing into my thigh, or bicker with me about how I choose to sleep,” you explain, annoyed. Brendon looks genuinely upset, so you soften your face. “When the temperature isn’t in the triple digits, and we don’t literally stick together when we touch, we can cuddle. Okay?”
“Fine.”
***
“Bogart, hey buddy, look at this toy for you to chew on. Bite, bite, bite, kill,” he says, throwing Little Brendon to Bogart.
Bogart sighs and rests his head on Little Brendon like a pillow.
“First my wife and now my dog,” Brendon shouts, throwing his hands up in frustration.
“Okay, this has gone on long enough,” you tell him, alerting him to your presence in the doorframe. “Sit,” you order, pointing to the couch. “Brendon, you’re jealous of a toy,” you state bluntly.
He blushes and grabs his stuffed enemy. “It’s not about the toy,” he finally admits.
“Yeah, I didn’t think so.”
“It’s just,” he struggles to find the right words, “I love touring. I love seeing all the different cities on my days off, meeting fans, partying with different bands, and most of all playing shows.” He takes a deep breath. “But I also love you. I love waking up with you, going out to dinner, watching you get off on my thigh, and just getting to be near you. So when I have to be away from you to tour, sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice, and seeing you do the things I want to do with you with the stupid Beebo plush instead, kept bringing all of those feelings to the forefront” he confesses.
“Oh, B, of course, you made the right choice. I love you, and I miss you when you’re gone sometimes, but I love our life. I love getting my independence when you’re gone, visiting you on-tour, watching you do what you love, having super hot reunion sex. So yeah, sometimes I just wanna squeeze you and smell your cologne and kiss your little face, but I’d never want you to sacrifice your career for that,” you say. “You wanna know why I like Little B so much?”
“Because he’s so good for humping?”
“No,” you laugh, “well, yes, actually, he is. But it’s because he reminds me why I spend some nights alone and hop on dreadful red-eye flights every few weeks and have to hook up with my husband on a fucking bus. So you can put on this dumb gold jacket,” you fiddle with Little Brendon’s jacket, “and perform the songs you worked so hard on for hundreds of thousands of people, and then sell thousands of these dumb little dolls so we can live in a multi-million dollar house with a home studio and a heated pool.”
“So you’re not replacing me with the puppet doll?” He asks.
“Well, maybe a little, but sometimes you feel so intangible. Even when you’re here, I know you have other, more important obligations, so it’s nice to have something constant,” you laugh, “and I think Bogart feels the same way,” you say, pointing to the dog who is curled around his new friend protectively.
***
“You’ve created a monster!”
“Have not!”
“You were the one who gave him Little Brendon!”
Brendon’s eyes dart to the floor because you’re right.
Bogart grew attached to Little Brendon faster than you did and now gently carries the toy with him wherever he goes. If you try to reclaim Little Brendon, Bogart growls and snarls.
“It’s kind of cute, I guess. He’s protecting his daddy,” you say.
“Then it’s your fault for putting my cologne on him,” Brendon retorts.
“Ugh, fine,” you concede.
“Oh look, he’s dropped it,” Brendon points out.
At first, you think it’s a good thing, but you both recognize the look Bogart’s giving.
“Go, Bog! Get it!” Brendon cackles as the dog pounces.
“Oh no, you don’t, bad dog,” you scold, snatching the toy away. “If you wanna hump something, I think Zack’s coming over tonight, but we don’t do that to mommy’s things.”
Brendon’s still laughing his ass off, and you shoot him a dirty look. “C’mon, babe, you’ve blue-balled him,” Brendon says, pointing to the sad-looking dog.
“Bogart is fixed and doesn’t have balls, a characteristic you two will soon have in common if you don’t stop giggling like a ten-year-old,” you threaten, and he, wisely, shuts up. “That’s what I thought. And if anything, this is just vindication for me because I told you Little Brendon was good for humping, and you dismissed it,” you tell him.
“Okay, fine, there was a brief period of time when I was irrationally jealous of a toy,” he admits. “But I think you should get another taste of the real thing before you decide who’s the better lay once and for all,” Brendon says, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom.
“Brendon!” You lightheartedly protest in his arms.
***
You’re lying on his chest contentedly as he strokes your arm. “You wanna know what I miss the most about getting to cuddle with you when you’re touring? Something Little Brendon doesn’t give me?”
“Hm?”
“Your heartbeat. Feeling it under my head or under my palm. Especially if we’re lying together for a while. I love how it slows and steadies the longer we’re with each other. So comforting.”
***
Little Brendon is sitting on your bed with a card that says, “Squeeze me!” on the front. You squeeze the plush, and you immediately recognize Brendon’s heartbeat coming softly from the chest of the toy. You smile and pick up the card.
Hey, baby! It reads, I’m no doubt missing you on the second leg of tour right now, but if you really need some comfort, I hope this’ll do. The recording lasts about an hour, and I made sure it got down to my resting heart rate before it stops. I’m sorry for being a jealous dick about a stuffed animal, but even my possessive lizard brain wants you to have something to make you feel better if you’re ever stressed or upset. (And now that the Beebo plushies are officially for sale, you can rest easy knowing yours is special)
xoxoxo,
Brendon
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wiypt-writes · 3 years
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Stark Spangled Banner
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Ch45: He Started It
Intro: Katie and Steve adapt to being the parents of a new baby as 2020 ticks by in a whirl of dirty diapers, sleepless nights…and a very childish war between Steve and Tony.  
Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut! (NSFW) No under 18s.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark
A/N: Yeah, I love this chapter. I hope you all do too. And thank @angrybirdcr​ for the edit. It made me laugh, a lot.
Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.
Chapter 44
Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist
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 May 2020
Katie heard a set of keys being dropped onto the table in the hallway and looked up as Steve opened the door to the living room, crossing the floor, Lucky following him before promptly dropping on the rug in front of the fire place, clearly pooped after his walk.
“Hi.” Steve smiled, sinking to one knee and pressing a kiss to her cheek as he reached out a careful finger, gently tracing the curve of Jamie’s busily working cheeks. “Somebody’s hungry.”
“Somebody takes after his father in that respect,” Katie retorted glancing up at him as he gently loosened another button on his plaid shirt, rubbing his hand over his clean shaven face.
“I feel like I should be apologising.” Steve smiled as his lips pressed onto hers and she gave him a proper kiss. He pulled back, grinning as he looked down at the tiny hand that gripped his finger solidly, lost in his thoughts.
Only the previous month the new dad had been in the throes of a sudden crisis of confidence post one of Jamie’s check-ups. Though Jamie was as healthy as a baby could possibly be, he was still on the small side. Bigger than he was when he was born but still tiny. The Paediatrician advised it was nothing to worry about, and that it was likely to be something to do with Steve’s body chemistry and who he was before the serum. Steve had been none too thrilled and had blurted out to Katie later on that he felt like he had let their son down.
“You could never let our boy down, ever.” She said, as they both lay on the bed, Steve’s feet planted firmly on the top of the duvet, legs bent with Jamie resting back against his thighs, both his hands curled round Steve’s fingers. “He’s perfectly fine and healthy, love. If he grows up a little small, so what?”
“I just want more for him, more than I was you know.” Steve swallowed, his eyes misting over.
“Hey, look at me.” Katie reached up and turned his head to face her. “You have always had the biggest heart, regardless of what you think. The serum isn’t you, you’re you, and if Jamie grows up to be half the man his daddy is I’ll be so proud”
The fact that right now Jamie seemed to have an exceptionally strong grip for a twelve week old baby made Steve slightly more confident that maybe he had inherited some of the positive effects of the serum after all.
“What time do we need to be at Tony’s?” Steve eventually asked, tearing his eyes off his son to look at his wife.
“Pepper says to get there any time from four so we can collect Emmy from school and go straight up.”
“Sounds good. Do you wanna stay or come home?” Steve asked.
“Rather be at home.” She answered, honestly. “Just easier whilst he’s so young. If he starts screaming the house down at least we’re here.” “Whatever you want, Doll.” he smiled, and at that point his attention was taken once more by baby Rogers who had finally finished his meal, milky mouth opening into a small yawn.  Katie handed him over to Steve and did up the shirt that she was wearing, as Steve stood up, adjusted a soft cloth over his shoulder and held him tenderly to his front, gently patting his back.
“Baby, you look exhausted” He glanced down at Katie as she yawned.
“Thanks.” She grumbled, shooting him a glare.
He chuckled “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Yeah well I probably do look like shit.” she sighed “Neither of us got much sleep did we?”
They’d had a rough night the night before. Since they’d brought Jamie home, Steve and Katie had both shared the night feeds following advice from various people to spread the load so to speak. The problem is, for some reason, Jamie hadn’t settled at all post feeding and in attempt to let Katie get some rest, Steve had brought him downstairs but it hadn’t worked as she was unable to sleep as the sounds of his cries made her heart ache.
“Why don’t you go get your head down for a bit?” Steve suggested, as his large hand rubbed at their son’s back. Before Katie could reply, Jamie promptly spit up down the front of Steve’s T-Shirt, missing the cloth completely.
“Nice shot, son.” Steve rolled his eyes and Katie laughed standing up to mop him off. Jamie seemed utterly nonplussed by his activities and his large blue eyes blinked heavily before closing. Steve brushed a soft kiss across his son’s forehead and then looked at his wife again.
“Go, get some sleep. And that’s not a request, I’ll wake you in a few hours.”
“Bossy bastard”
Steve arched an eyebrow at her “I’m not bossy, I just can’t deal with Tony’s tantrum if his baby sister falls asleep at his 50th party.”
“Good point, well made.” Katie conceded. She leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek before heading back out of the room.
Steve watched her go, a frown playing across his face. She’d been really quiet over the last few weeks. Life with a baby wasn’t easy, it was full of hard work, sleepless nights, puke, poop…but every time he saw his son it all paled into insignificance for him, as he was worth it. Maybe his wife was struggling a little, as despite her joke before, Jamie sure did feed a hell of a lot. At their last appointment it had been suggested that maybe they tried introducing formula as well to help fill him up which was what they had started to do overnight and he had been hoping that it would it make things a little better for her as he could do the night feeds and allow her to sleep.
Last night had been the worst one they’d had in the twelve weeks since his birth but that aside, there were other things Steve had already noticed too the main one being she wasn’t as affectionate towards him as she had been. The other night for instance he’d tried to instigate a little bit of something because frankly after months of giving himself a jerking off once every so often when he felt like his balls were explode, and he missed her. He missed how she felt under him, over him, next to him…any which way she was. But, he knew he had to be patient, her body had been through a lot after all. He’d wondered at first if it could be post-partum depression but none of the other signs he had read up on were there so he was putting it down to tiredness and hormones.
He couldn’t help with the latter, but he could sure as hell try and make sure she slept. And he could apologise for being impatient as well.
Once Jamie had dropped off to sleep, Steve placed him in his basket and headed into the kitchen. There were a few dishes and what not from breakfast so he sorted that out, wiped the surfaces to save Katie a job and then settled down in front of the TV. It wasn’t long before he was himself asleep.
***** Katie wanted to cry. Nothing in her fucking closet fit, well nothing that didn’t make her look huge. She’d settled for a navy blue strapless maxi dress which flared out from her waist so wasn’t clingy. The large pink and white flower patterns also flattered her as much as she could but she wasn’t happy.
You’ve just had a baby, let’s be real… she thought to herself, before she grabbed a pair of strappy sandals and a denim jacket, hastily wiping her eyes. Fuck it, she was going to be amongst friends, as if they cared what she looked like. She stepped back into the main part of the bedroom, where Steve was pulling on a dark green polo-shirt. She looked at him for a moment, simply admiring him, and found herself rather jealous that his physique hadn’t changed since having a baby. He had no stretch marks, no two inch increase to his hips, belly and fuck knows what to his boobs.
Bastard.
Steve’s head emerged from his shirt and he looked at his wife, watching as she moved to sit at the dresser to pull her hair back into a loose braid. He passed her, his hands dropping to her shoulders as he stopped to give her bare skin a soft kiss.
“You look beautiful.”
“Sure.” The sarcastic response and the eye roll happened before she could stop them, and she hoped he hadn’t noticed but of course, he had. Steve frowned. “You do.”
She sighed and looked down slightly and Steve didn’t like this, not one bit. Moving so that he was by her side he gently placed a hand on her knee and knelt down next to her, and she glanced at him as he looked up from his spot on the carpet. “Honey, please don’t fly off the handle at me, but are you okay? This isn’t like you and I’m kinda getting worried a little.” “Hormones.” Katie sighed, rubbing at her eyes slightly. “And lack of sleep. That’s all.”
“So it’s not something I’ve done. Or not done?”
“No, baby, it isn’t, I promise.” She gave him a little smile, reaching out to brush her hand down his cheek.
“Alright, as long as you’re sure.” He licked his lips slightly before he took a deep breath “And I’m sorry if last night you thought I was rushing you or putting pressure on you.” He licked his lips. “I didn’t mean to. At all.”
Katie looked at him and suddenly felt awful. He hadn’t done anything of the sort. He’d been nothing but patient and loving with her since Jamie had been born.
“Steve.” she shook her head, “That’s not…” she sighed again and pinched the bridge of her nose “You didn’t. Honestly. It’s me…I-“
She swallowed and looked down at her hands and when she looked back at him, it was his turn to sigh as he saw the tears brimming in her eyes.
“Honey, please talk to me.” He begged, both his hands now on her knees as he knelt up slightly.
“I just…” the tears trickled down her face and Steve took a deep breath as she looked at him. “I know you say I look beautiful but I don’t feel it, not at the moment. I don’t feel like me. I look different, none of my stuff fits now, I feel huge and fat and…” “Okay, okay, stop.” Steve instructed sternly but not unkindly. He wanted to tell her she was being ridiculous, as frankly he loved the changes to her body. There was a new curve to her hips, her body was softer, her face slightly rounder. She wasn’t fat either, but Steve understood straight away that the problem was she was used to her figure before-hand, washboard stomach, trim legs and thighs all courtesy of a physical job and Avenger Training. And as Steve knew only too well, sudden changes to yourself could be hard to deal with.“You had a baby three months ago.”
“I know but since when did a baby mean my ass had to treble in size, or my hips, or my boobs…” she trailed off.
Steve took a deep breath, and then suddenly something popped into his head, something that hopefully could make her understand and see why none of that shit, even if it was true would matter to him in the slightest.
“If I woke up tomorrow, and the serum was gone, and I was back to being that 5ft 4, ninety-five pound scrawny guy from Brooklyn would you love me any less?” “No, of course not!” She scoffed, indignantly. “But that’s not the same!” “Why not?” “Because this is about how I feel.” she said
“Yeah, and I still feel like that kid that was getting his ass kicked all the time.” Steve implored, searching her face. “As you keep saying, the serum didn’t change who I am.” “And that’s why I love you.” She frowned.
“Exactly. So what makes you think I could possibly love you any less now because your hips or your ass or your boobs are bigger, which for the record, I’m kinda on board with.” “Jerk.” She mumbled, sniffing slightly and he smiled.
“Frankly,” Steve looked up at her, his eyes heavy, “I still find you the most beautiful woman on the planet. And you’re my wife, who gave birth to my baby boy.”
She cocked her head to the side and he saw a smile flicker on her face. “Say it.”
He raised an eyebrow, “What?” “You know what.” “You’re my baby momma.” He grinned with a low voice and it made her smile as she bit her lip. He took a deep breath and reached out with his hand to cup her face. “I love you.” “I love you too.” She replied gently, and she leaned down to press her lips onto his, the kiss growing quickly heated as she slid her hands into his hair, her nails raking down his neck causing him to groan.
“Seriously,” Steve pulled back, looking at her, “you’re gonna have to stop that because if start I aint gonna be able to stop and we’ll be late picking Emmy up.”
Katie looked at her husband, his blue eyes shining with mischief and she was both surprised, pleased and a little relieved to feel that familiar tingle between her legs that she hadn’t felt for ages. Glancing at the clock she realised she was right so she sighed and turned back to the mirror.
“Hold that thought, Soldier.” she looked at him in her reflection as he stood up and smiled, dropping a kiss to the crook of her shoulder and neck, and this time she didn’t push him away.
***** Tony Stark had always been known for his parties. Anyone who’s anyone would attend the raucous events filled with memorable moments. In contrast, the small gathering that was now sat on the table outside the lake-house was much more subdued. This was their first social gathering really since the snap and although various faces were missing, every single person sat there would have been happy to tell anyone who asked that it was enjoyable.
Thor, who hadn’t seen Jamie since a week after he was born was astounded at how fast the boy had grown, commenting that he was remarkably like his father, but with his mother’s nose. Their baby was, in turn, fascinated by the God, pulling on his beard at every chance he got. Steve kept apologising profoundly, but Thor wasn’t in the slightest bit bothered, if anything he seemed to enjoy it. He entertained the little boy for quite some time, which gave Katie chance to relax. Relax enough to quietly, although not that quiet so that Steve couldn’t overhear her, ask Pepper if she would be okay to have a glass of wine whilst still feeding Jamie. Pepper had smiled and simply told the younger woman that one glass wasn’t going to hurt, especially if she wasn’t going to be nursing until the morning and with that she’d poured a large one and slid it over to Katie across the kitchen counter. She’d hesitated for a moment and Steve had leant over closer to her, his finger-tips gently stroking her bare neck and shoulders.
“Doll, we have enough bottles made up, if you want to drink, it’ll be fine.”
With that she’d smiled at him, picked up her glass and headed back outside. He’d followed and as she’d gone to sit back down at the table had pulled her chair out for her, force of habit as always, only this time when she’d sat down and he’d leant forward to place a soft kiss on her cheek she’d turned towards him and gently rubbed her nose against his.
“Thank you.” She smiled softly, and it didn’t take Steve longer than a second to figure out she wasn’t talking about his display of chivalry over the chair.
“Gross.”
Katie looked up to see Emmy was sat next to Tony as the pair of them stuck their fingers in their mouths, miming being sick before they cackled and shared a hi-five.
“One day you’re gonna grow up.” Katie looked at her brother over her wine glass.
“Hmmmn, not so sure.” Pepper said, dropping down in the chair next to him, Morgan in her arms. “Think this little one will do that before him.”
“Erm, you can’t insult me, it’s my birthday.” Tony shot, looking round.
“He’s right, they’re the rules.” Emmy nodded, earning herself a fist bump from her Uncle.
“Cheers kid.” He smiled, and Katie rolled her eyes.
“I wouldn’t worry, Kiddo, she’s thirteen this year right?” Rhodey leaned forward for his drink. “Soon be way ahead of his mental age.”
The table giggled and at that Tony pouted and announced it was time to fire up the grill for the food.
For the rest of the evening, Jamie spent most of the time being passed around the table for cuddles from his extended family. And Tony even took on a nappy change to give Steve and Katie the chance to continue eating as Jamie chose the most inopportune moment to kick up a fuss about needing one.
It wasn’t until they later that night that they realised there was an ulterior motive for his helpfulness.
Steve was busy making sure Emmy was tucked in for the night, the eleven year old having slept most of the 45 minute drive back home, whilst Katie was getting Jamie ready for bed, trying not to wake him. She removed his little dungarees and t-shirt to reveal a small vest underneath and as she looked at it she felt the laughter bubble in her chest and she couldn’t stop no matter how hard she tried.
“What are you-“ Steve stopped and gazed down at his son, his eyes widening. Katie had tears pouring down her face as she glanced down at the small white garment which bore two simple words and a symbol; ‘Uncle > Dad’
Katie wiped the tears of laughter out of her eyes as she gently undid the buttons along the shoulders of the vest and carefully slid it over Jamie’s head.
“You’re bother is an asshole.” Steve looked at his wife, grabbing the vest and tossing it across the room in a display of annoyance.
Katie rolled her eyes, smirking as she picked up their baby and gently placed him in the crib at the side of their bed. Steve wrapped an arm round his wife’s waist as she smoothed down the blanket and they both peered down at their son before he kissed the side of her head. She turned her face and captured his lips, the kiss deepening slightly as Steve pulled her to him, his hands strong at the base of her spine. Playfully he slid his hands down to cup her ass and she smirked into the kiss.
“Hands, Rogers.” She teased and he shrugged.
“I told you…” his lips brushed hers, “I like your ass.” “I like your face.” She pulled back, causing him to laugh and look down at her.
“My face?”
“Yeah, your big, stupid, handsome face.” She muttered, pulling him back down to her. In between the dizzying kisses, Steve steered her towards the bed, and as her legs collided with the edge he stopped to gently trail his lips across her bare collar bone. With soft hands, he undid the zip on her dress and he felt Katie hesitate slightly. Steve paused for a second, before his lips found her jaw and then she relaxed, allowing her dress to pool by her feet. Steve groaned and followed it down, dropping to his knees, his hands gripping at the back of both her thighs. His mouth gently licked the inside of her knee, making its way up her leg and Katie let out a shaky whisper of his name, her hands tangling into his hair as he moved his affections upwards slightly, skimming his nose across the waistband of her underwear, over her soft stomach. This time her gentle whisper became a loud groan which she stifled with her hand as he pressed his nose into her arousal, and she felt her knees tremble slightly.
“You okay?” He asked quietly, peeking up at her. She nodded and with a wicked quirk of his eyebrow, he stood up, fast, hand still on her thighs so she went with him and he pitched them forward onto the bed. Then it was a scramble to get out of his clothes as fast as he could before he fell forwards again, back on top of his wife, his hands pulling down her underwear, lips kissing at the spot just below her ear.
Katie was utterly lost now, lost in the sensations she hadn’t felt in so long and she tilted her head back, sighing softly as he continued to nibble at her neck, settling himself above her. His fingers gently dropped between her legs and he felt her slick against the tips as he gently coaxed at her clit, continuing until she was nothing short of a writhing mess clawing at his back, aching for him. They locked eyes as he took her left hand in his, and slowly worked into her, both moaning simultaneously at the sensation, Katie’s eyes rolling back at the stretch. Steve began to move his hips slowly, displaying nothing but absolute tenderness in his thrusts which weren’t measured in the slightest. His free hand kept hold of Katie’s hip, keeping her as close as she could possibly be. 
A gentle breeze from the night air which blew through the slightly open window ruffled his hair and Katie wound her right hand into it, pulling him down to kiss her again as he kept his lazy thrusts aimed perfectly on her spot. Given that it had been over three months since their last time, it didn’t take them long at all before their releases were creeping to the forefront. Steve’s senses were on fire, and he broke the long, lazy kiss that they were sharing to stifle a moan against his wife’s cheek when he felt her clench around him. The sheets rustled underneath and around them both as their pace continued slow and languid until the very end when Steve saw his wife’s head tip back, her throat bared to him in utter bliss as she came hard, her moans soft and breathy. Steve gave a low grunt which morphed into a gasp as he clung to his wife as he spilled himself into her, his hips slowing to a stop as he collapsed forward. Katie gave a soft chuckle as her hands gently slid up his back and into his hair, as she moved and pressed a soft kiss to his head. 
“You’re gorgeous.” His voice was muffled as his face pressed into her neck, and she felt herself flush and grin before he moved to look at her, catching her mouth in a sweet kiss.
******
July 2020
“What are you two up to?” Katie asked as she walked into the kitchen to see Steve and Emmy looking at the laptop one morning just as Steve handed Emmy his card.
“Buying something.” Steve replied.
“What?” “You’ll see.” Emmy glanced up. “In time.” Katie rolled her eyes, she had a horrible feeling this was to do with Steve’s return shot after the whole vest thing Tony had pulled just over a month or so back.
And she was right.
On Steve’s birthday, the perfect revenge was taken when the Rogers’ hosted a gathering, similar to the one Tony had held.
There was plenty of Asgardian mead shared between Thor and the Super Soldier. They got louder as the night went on, Thor telling him about another brew he had on the go and inviting him to New Asgard to be part of the testing panel. Katie wasn’t completely sure that was a good idea, but she couldn’t help but admit that pissed Steve was one of her favourite Steve’s, and she enjoyed watching him cut loose once in a while.
At one point, Steve took the boys and Natasha to see his recently furnished ‘man cave’ which was basically the cabin next to the pool house, which now held a couch, a TV, stereo and his art supplies along with a desk. They men spent a while looking at his latest project which was a pencil sketch of Emmy and Jamie sat on the lawn before returning to the group, topping up their drinks.
Natasha, Tony, Pepper and Morgan were staying that night, and when it started to get late and the thirteen month old was dropping asleep, Pepper took her into the spare room they were sleeping in, emerging with the highest tech baby monitor available, of course, which linked directly to FRIDAY. About an hour or so later, Katie saw Steve and Emmy disappear inside, the pair of them whispering.  She watched them go and when they came back about five minutes later, Steve simply raised his eyebrows at her, grinning. 
Later that night when, after Morgan had been making some soft noises, Tony went to check on her and the five of them who were left heard his exclamation on the baby monitor.
“son of a-“  
His mumblings were followed by a loud fit of laughing and Pepper frowned. Steve and Emmy exchanged a look of glee and soon Tony emerged back onto the patio area of their garden, Morgan balanced on his hip, the dark haired tot wearing a bright blue Captain America hat. Steve reached over to hi-five Emmy as he raised his glass to Tony, giving him a slightly tipsy smirk.
“Now we’re even.”
“Oh if you think I’m leaving it there, Spangles, you’re very much mistaken.” Tony sat down with Morgan on his lap. “Just you wait.” And wait they did.
*****
October 2020
Steve walked in the door to a barrage of noise. Lucky was flopped out on the floor in the hall and simply gave Steve a look which he was convinced was the equivalent of an eye roll and he knew why, Jamie was screaming blue murder.
 He was teething.
“Hey, Sweetheart.” Steve smiled, dropping a kiss to Katie’s cheek before he gently laid his hand on the back of his son’s head. His cheeks were flushed from the teething and his little face was stained with tears.
“I don’t know what to do!” Katie looked up at Steve, utterly lost. “He’s been like this all day. I feel useless Steve, nothing I do helps, and the more he cries, the shittier I feel because he’s in pain!”
“Let me take him for a while.” Steve offered. “You should be getting ready to go out.” She pulled a face, and Steve frowned. She had been invited on her first night ‘out’ since having Jamie, with Brooke’s mum Jennifer and a few other mom’s from the school. Well, it wasn’t strictly out, it was a few drinks and snacks at the coffee bar for one of the lady’s birthday but still, it was a chance to let her hair down and she had been looking forward to it. 
“I don’t know if I can go, not with him like this.”  “Yes you can.” Steve looked at her as she gently bounced Jamie in her arms.
“But you have Emmy and Brooke to watch as well, it’s her birthday weekend and-” Steve snorted. “They’ll be in the den in sleeping bags watching movies and eating crap all night. As long as I provide them with pizza and a constant supply of popcorn I won’t see them. Come on, give him here.” He gestured with his hands and Katie passed Jamie over, and instantly the baby looked up at his dad and broke into a teary smile.
“Oh, that’s just fucking typical.” Katie threw her hands out to the side. “I sit here all day, you walk in and after five minutes he stops.” Steve laughed and looked at her, as she scowled. “I’m sure he’ll start again soon. Now go and get ready. Go on.”
With a last look at them both she headed out into the hallway and up for a shower. When she came back down an hour or so later, having taken her time just because she could, she found Steve in the kitchen making himself a coffee whilst Jamie sat in the highchair, chewing on a frozen teething ring. He grinned up at his momma who dropped a kiss to his head, all tears and tantrums forgotten, and Steve turned to look at his wife, a smile crossing his face.
She looked knock out in a simple pair of tight jeans, a white silk vest top and black blazer with three quarter length sleeves. She’d bought the outfit especially, after finally getting down to a size she felt comfortable at thanks to stepping her training back up making use of the pool and their gym. She had changed shape, there was no getting away from that, and Steve doubted that any amount of training she did would take her back to her SHIELD Agent size, which he didn’t give the slightest shit about anyway, but what was important was that she didn’t seem to care anymore. Her stomach was more or less flat again, even if it was a little softer than before, but her hips were bigger, giving her more of a curve, which Steve loved, grabbing her ass every chance he could do. There was also the added perk that, even though she was down to one feed a day with Jamie being on solids, her boobs hadn’t shrunk much, remaining two cup sizes bigger than they had been. Another thing Steve found pretty damned fine about his wife’s post-baby figure.
But, what he loved the most though was that she was comfortable with herself and it showed tonight as she grinned up at him and gave him a twirl. He aimed a playful swat at her ass before he pulled her close and dropped a kiss to her lips.
“You look great.” He smiled and she blushed, giving him a kiss back before they heard he door open and voices echo in the hall.
“Get a room.” Emmy said as her and Brooke emerged into the kitchen. Steve arched an eyebrow and made a meal of pulling his wife closer as Brooke whooped and Jennifer, who had come to drop the girls off and pick Katie up gave a wolf whistle. Katie laughed and stepped back, shooting Steve a look that almost had him hard right there as he knew full well it meant he was in for a good night when she got back.
Emmy opened the fridge, and Steve looked at her. “Yeah there’s nothing in there, we’re getting pizza.” “Sweeeeeeet.” Emmy grinned, exchanging a hi-five with Brooke, handing her a soda.
“No wonder she likes coming here so much!” Jennifer laughed again as the two girls headed back into the hall.
Steve smiled and leaned back against the counter. “Yeah, well, Katie’s the cook, not me.”
“Don’t listen to him.” Katie rolled her eyes, picking up her phone and dropping it into her purse “He can cook most things fine, he just can’t be bothered.”
“Don’t blame him, it’s Friday.” Jennifer laughed, as Katie dropped a kiss to Jamie’s head again before she turned to Steve.
“Don’t wait up.” She winked, and he rolled his eyes, giving her a look, because he knew full well he would.  
*****
At the end of the month Emmy turned twelve and was overjoyed with the new bike, clothes and phone she got, but was most overcome with the party Steve and Katie let her have in the pool house, the parents supervising six other pre-teens from afar as they splashed about in the water before Katie fed them all burgers, mac and cheese, and enough sugar to keep them wired for a weekend. Emmy had cried again later that night, never having had a proper birthday party before and thanking them so much it made the pair of them tear up slightly too.
The start of November brought the time they’d been equally looking forward to and dreading- Jamie started crawling. And he was fast, possessing Ninja skills Natasha was extremely proud of. Steve and Katie, aided by Emmy seemed to spend all their time running after him and poor Lucky was the target of his affections as Jamie loved pulling his fur or ears. In an attempt to give Lucky some peace and to prevent any mishaps, Steve erected baby gates all over the house which were small enough for Lucky to leap over if he needed a fast escape, but they confined their little Carpet Terrorist to the room he was in.  Naturally, Jamie hated them, and would sit and scream in frustration when he couldn’t follow his parents and sister freely, and Katie couldn’t help but laugh one day as he sat by the gate which separated the living room doorway from the hall, gripping the bars and yelling in objection as she and Emmy headed to the kitchen to make lunch. Steve was stood behind him, arms folded, shaking his head, a huge smile on his face as he chuckled.
“He looks like he’s in jail!” Emmy laughed as Steve swooped him up into his arms, blowing a raspberry on his belly instantly making all the tears vanish, his angry cried replaced by gurgles and giggles.  At that point there was a sharp ringing in the hallway, indicating someone was at the drive entrance. Emmy headed to the screen.
“It’s a delivery driver.” She pressed the button to open the metal gates. Steve followed her into the hall, Jamie still in his arms. Katie continued into the kitchen and was joined a moment later by the three of them, Emmy carrying a small box.
“Who’s it from?” Katie frowned as she pulled the items out of the fridge to make sandwiches.
“No return address.” Steve shrugged, as Emmy pulled open the box. The girl glanced inside and her mouth made a small O as she pulled out the stuffed American Eagle toy that was inside, but then dropped it harshly as it started to sing. There was a pause, as the ‘Star Spangled Man With A Plan’ theme tune blared round the large kitchen from the stuffed animal, and then Katie started to laugh as did Emmy and Steve dropped his head and gave a groan.
With perfect timing, Katie’s phone began to ring and she pulled it from her pocket, grinning as she saw it was Tony.
“Ahhhh you got it!” He laughed, clearly able to hear the noise on the other end of the phone.
“Where on Earth did you find that?” Katie snorted.
“I made it, well, I made the voice box. I told him to wait! Tony Stark 2, Spangles 1”
Of course, Jamie loved his latest present. And every time Steve made an attempt to hide it, he would scream blue murder. Mind you, Steve wasn’t sure what was worse, the constant screaming or the damned song emanating from the fucking toy.
“I really, really hate your brother.” He groaned one evening at the end of November as he was sat on the floor trying to coax Jamie into playing with one of the other hundred toys he had, the infant simply refusing.
“I told you not to start a war.” Katie sniggered.
“I didn’t start anything!” Steve scoffed, indignantly “He started it with that damned vest!”
“Well if you retaliate it’s gonna keep on going, you know what he’s like he’ll…oh my God, Steve!” Katie suddenly changed subject, her mouth dropping open as she watched Jamie who had crawled to the side of the sofa and was now attempting to pull himself up. They both watched in awe as their baby grasped the side of the cushion in his hand and used it as leverage to get to his feet where he stayed for a second or two before his knees gave in and he crashed to the floor with a loud thump, his diaper clad backside hitting the carpet. There was a pause where they both waited for the ensuing scream, but it never came. Instead he gave a loud shriek of laughter and went to try again, Steve recording the second attempt on his phone, all thoughts of revenge and stuffed eagles flew out of his mind as he watched his son hit another milestone.
Jamie had a sudden growth spurt heading into December, meaning he was more than ample size for his age, much to Steve’s relief and delight, and all three of them noticed that he was incessantly chattering and although it was complete gibberish they often found themselves answering back. Emmy was best at this, Steve and Katie one Sunday afternoon hid in the doorway, stifling their laughter as she held a full blown conversation with the nine month old whilst they watched the lion king.
“No that’s Simba.” Emmy responded to a loud screech as she pointed to the screen.
More ineligible babbles.
“Nala, and that’s Zazu.” Another noise, this one a little softer.
“Yeah, he will in a minute. Not for a while though. He’s gotta go to the elephant graveyard first.”
Jamie giggled, gesturing with his arms.
“I know, right?” Emmy rolled her eyes. “Stupid thing to do, should stay on the pride lands.” A string of gibberish escaped Jamie’s mouth and he looked at Emmy with an expression on his face, just like he had said asked her a serious question.
“Well, no, I mean a lion could take them but man, those hyenas are sneaky.” At that, Emmy looked up to see her parents watching from the door and she shrugged.
“He still talks more sense than you.” Steve grinned, earning himself a scowl in response ***** “It’s wonky, Dad.” “No it isn’t!” Steve shook his head, standing back to look at the Christmas tree.
“Yes, it is!” “She’s right.” Katie grinned, where she was sat on the floor, Jamie stood in between her legs, using her fingers which she held out to support himself on his legs, bouncing up and down.
Steve stepped back and gave a groan as he saw it was, indeed, leaning to the right. After a bit of a reshuffle scattering more needles on the floor he finally righted it. Katie watched as father and daughter shared a hi-five before they set about digging the decorations out of the two boxes at their feet. Katie was happy to leave them to it shouting the odd direction and the time came for the star and the big switch on.
“You wanna put it on again Em?” he asked and she nodded eagerly. She took it in her right hand and, despite her being taller and bigger than the year before Steve easily lifted her off the floor, hands on her hips so she could drop the star onto the top of the tree.
“Ready?” she asked once her feet were back on the floor, as she ran to the socket on the floor.
“Hit it!” Katie grinned, standing up and swooping Jamie along with her so he was propped on her hip.
“3-2-1…” Emmy gave a count down before she flipped the lights and the tree came to life. “Awesome!”
She moved over to where Katie was stood and reached up, bopping Jamie on the nose who gave a smile in response. He was fascinated by the lights on the tree, his eyes going wide and he let out a loud noise of approval, reaching both his arms out towards it.
The decorations on the bottom two branches lasted approximately twenty minutes until Steve and Emmy hastily moved everything up out of his reach.
The family spent Christmas Eve afternoon with Tony, Pepper and Morgan (who was now fast into her toddler stage being eighteen months or so old) but their first Christmas together was spent at home, with Natasha joining them. Jamie doted on his Auntie Nat-Nat, a nickname Steve had given her, one she faked disgust at, but they knew she loved it.
They all exchanged gifts, giving Natasha a chunky silver chain bracelet which Katie had spotted as they were shopping not long ago, which made her tear up, and a framed photo of her and Jamie from Jamie, obviously, along with a box of her favourite sweets carefully selected by Emmy.
It wasn’t long before they got a call from Tony.
“I’m gonna kill your husband.” 
Katie frowned. “What…”
“Morgan, she won’t leave the damned toy shield alone.” “What toy shield?” Katie asked. Hearing the exchange Steve looked up, grinning and she locked eyes with him, as he shrugged innocently.
“The toy shield that was in the pile of gifts you bought her, well she’s just thrown it straight at Gerald, the poor animal is traumatised!” Katie let out a sigh, rubbing at her forehead and out of the corner of her eye she saw Natasha, Steve and Emmy share a three-way-hi five, and she couldn’t help but smirk at the sight.
“Tony Stark 2, Spangles 2…” She grinned. “Merry Christmas, Tone.”
It turned out, however, that Natasha wasn’t about to let Steve get away completely, and the solder groaned where he sat with Jamie on his lap as they opened one of Jamie’s last gifts from his god- mother, which was a teddy bear wearing a Captain America shirt and a little plush shield, not unlike the one Steve had won Katie at Cony Island. Nat raised an eyebrow at Steve as Katie choked on her glass of wine but Jamie shrieked as Steve tried to take the bear off him for a closer look, ignoring the hundreds of other toys he was surrounded with.
“Jamie, that’s Cap.” Nat said as she sat on the floor, taking the bear from him and rubbing it gently in his face causing him to shriek with laughter. Steve simply shook his head and handed his son over to her.
“Suppose its better than that damned eagle.” He mumbled as he sat next to his wife who was opening the gift from Natasha to them. Both of them looked down at the photo frame which housed a number of pictures, some of which Katie and Steve didn’t even know existed. They went as far back as the first battle of New York in the shawarma joint, where they were both laughing at something. There was one taken in a bar in DC that Katie could remember, one of them cuddled up on the balcony of the tower, then some taken without their knowledge like a particularly nice one where Kate was sat on Steve’s lap on one of the couches at the tower during one of Tony’s parties. There were a few pages of their extended family as well, including Thor, Natasha, Clint, Wanda, Sam, and right bang in the middle was a photo of Steve, Katie, Emmy and Jamie, taken at Steve’s birthday in the summer.
“Nat,” Katie croaked, “it’s…”
“Fantastic.” Steve smiled, looking at her from where he had settled on the arm of the couch, arm extended along the back.
“Well, I saw the one in the hall and figured you could do with another to go with it.” Nat smiled, shrugging their thanks off as she referenced the large frame that Katie had made for Steve all those years ago.
Their newest photo collection was hung by the side of the already existing one the very next morning.
Everyone had warned both the new parents that time would fly by, and as they welcomed New Years in, this time as a five with Natasha, sitting in the garden all wrapped in blankets round the fire pit, both Katie and Steve realised that nothing else could be more truthful. As the fireworks erupted across the Brooklyn and Manhattan skyline, calling time on 2020, and Jamie’s first nine months of being alive Steve pulled his wife closer and she turned to face him.
“Happy new year, Soldier.” she whispered.
“Happy new year, Baby.” he replied softly, dropping a kiss to her lips.
**** Chapter 46
 **Original Posting**
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Song Lyric Prompts Vol 1
There is a playlist of these songs in order here
1. “Drive this car through the drive thru please”
2. “Dirty laundry looks good on you”
3. “Where’s the dotted line at?”
4. “Are there windows in heaven?”
5. “Bought you a twelve pack, promised you sushi”
6. “I want to take you to a gay bar”
7. “I’m in love with the girl I hate”
8. “It’s been a while since I’ve felt butterflies”
9. “One day you’ll know who you want to be”
10. “You ain’t nothing but a prick”
11. “You’re not in love with me”
12. “I wanna kiss you every minute, every hour, every day”
13. “On second thought, forget it, that one turns out kind of cool”
14. “Honey, I’ve got real bad news”
15. “I heard that rock is dead and cellphones give you cancer”
16. “It will be worth it, everything you went through”
17. “They’ve never drove through Indiana”
18. “You’re my song, my sweet home Alabama”
19. “You’ve got so many options, every fish in the sea wants to kiss you”
20. “Relationships, I don’t know why, they never work out and they make you cry but the guy who says goodbye to you is out of his mind”
21. “My family is dysfunctional but we have a good time killing each other”
22. “I fell in love in the back of a cop car”
23. “You don’t have to worry”
24. “I’m still having nightmares”
25. “I flashback to the night in your parents yard when we drank too much and we talked about God”
26. “We’re gonna make it if takes all night”
27. “She’s my kind of crazy”
28. “Who says you can’t go home?”
29. “Fist fights turn into sex, I wonder what comes next?”
30. “If I were a boomerang, I’d turn around and come back to you”
31. “It’ll still be two days till I say I’m sorry”
32. “Remember when you broke your foot jumping out the second floor?”
33. “There’s room for two, six feet under the stars”
34. “Oh god, I did the wrong thing to the right girl”
35. “When it comes to condoms, put two on”
36. “I won’t give up on us”
37. “I’m a bit too pop for punk kids, but I’m too punk for the pop kids”
38. “We don’t have trouble sleeping”
39. “Daddy’s little girl knows how to party”
40. “A days worth of bitching goes down the drain when you lay in my bed and pick my brain.
41. “Wrong name, my mistake”
42. “Being us feels good to us”
43. “It’s not high school, man, you graduated six years ago”
44. “A few drinks in, here I go missing you again”
45. “There’s something about the way our bedsheets turn religion upside down”
46. “And I’ve made mistakes, but you were not one”
47. “I swear to god, I never fall in love”
48. “I miss the way you breathe, the way you twitch in your sleep. Your smile, your straight teeth and the scars along on your cheeks”
49. “When you talk, its in cursive to me. And it’s nicer than anything I’d ever believe about me”
50. “I don’t mind if you fuck up my life”
51. “Make a man feel rich on minimum wage”
52. “You broke my heart and all I got was this t shirt”
53. “You ask “When did I first know?” I always knew”
54. “You’re kind of hipster, I grew up on punk rock”
55. “Made a rebel of a careless man’s careful daughter”
56. “And all my friends don’t give a fuck”
57. “We’ll talk about how your parents separated and how you don’t want to make the same mistakes as them”
58. “Is it really your anxiety that stops you from giving me everything?”
59. “Leave your sorrys, grab your car keys.”
60. “I’d unfuck you if I could”
61. “You say you love me, I know you love me. Love that you love me, baby”
62. “I lose my voice when I look at you, can’t make a noise though I’m trying to”
63. “Now with my eyes wide open, it’s heaven in your arms”
64. “I know that you’re in pain but if we die at the same time does it still scare you?”
65. “I can make you laugh ‘til you cry, but she can make your tears dry”
66. “I hope a heart only breaks this bad once in a lifetime”
67. “I didn't call you back because I was learning to dance”
68. “Sometimes I just want to tell you about my day”
69. “Yes my fucking nails are painted, what you think I didn’t know?”
70. “Mama tried to raise me right, but she couldn’t raise the hell out of me”
71. “Dancing in the dark ‘til the sun comes, tangled in the sheets ‘til the days done”
72. “I take a drink ‘cause the truth is hard to swallow”
73. “Big heads up, that’s a really stupid plan”
74. “We used to kiss all night, now it’s just a bar fight”
75. “What’s the point of going out when you could just give me a call”
76. “I didn’t know I was broken until I wanted to change”
77. “We have something worth remembering”
78. “I fell in love with the girl at the rock show”
79. “And I just can’t stop thinking of you, wherever you are”
80. “I never wanna leave this sunset town.”
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kairos-polaris · 3 years
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Eris (demon's daughter) Chapter 3
A bunch of different perspectives. New questions and some answers.
Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
Tagglist: @liquid-luck-00 @moonlightstar64
Be aware of your own mind. Your consciousness can and will play tricks, so be careful.
Human mind is fluid. Our memories aren't set in stone but in sand. The lines and finer details blur every time we try to remember something important.
Human mind is the most curious thing. The organised chaos of it still fascinates philosophers and scientists. What is our mind if not a cabinet filled with carefully placed memories? We don't know how our mind decides what we should remember or forget, but we know that strong emotions play an important part in that decision.
Humans tend to forget bad things. They don't disappear completely, but stay in the background. This is the reason nostalgia exists and our past may seem better than present.
It didn't happen to Marinette, right? She was sure of it and her nightmares just proved her right. But she forgot the most important rule: don't take everything at the face value.
***
"You did good, my child," Marinette was still tired after avenging her death (killing them was forbidden, but injuring - not) and didn't comprehend praise in her father's words. "I can answer any question. But only one."
Marinette tilted her head in confusion. "I don't mean to be disrespectful, but why? I don't think I did anything to deserve this." Ra's lips lifts up in something akin to a smile. Her words meant his plan was working.
"You showed great strength when fighting. I've heard it took them half an hour to take you down. You are my daughter and you can't forget this," Ra's stopped to let his words sink in. "What is your question?"
"Who was my mother?" The predictability of her question almost makes him laugh out loud. He had expected something better from her. Like, "why don't my assailants have the injuries I've inflicted on them?".
"She was an assassin known as Madame Cheng. A formidable opponent and a strong spirit. She died after giving birth to you. It was a hard pregnancy," Ra's can see a flash of guilt in the girl's eyes. 
"Thank you for this information, father. I will treasure it forever."
The girl slowly leaves the room and Ra's congratulates himself on completing the first part of his plan successfully. 
***
Pale moonlight illuminated a bedroom. The room is completely silent save for soft sounds of breathing. Only two people are there, a man and a woman.
The woman lays on a pristine silk, white cloth barely covering her naked body. Hickies and bruises bloom everywhere like colourful flowers. Her midnight black hair barely reaching her shoulders is splattered across a pillow. Her skin seems to be glowing because of the whiteness of the bed linen. Beads of sweat on her toned arms and legs are highlighted by the moonlight.
The man is sitting near her, leaning on a headboard. His skin is several tones darker than the woman's. He also much older than her. There's white hair in his carefully groomed beard. He's physically fit and strong. He's sitting there completely lost in thoughts. New ideas, new strategies, new plans. The demon's head never rests, after all. He thinks how defenceless the woman next to him is and it makes his blood boil. 
His musings are interrupted by a small feather like touch on his hip. The man doesn't look at the woman, just lets down his hand and tangles it in her hair. It doesn't satisfy her so she seductively slowly raises on her hands to meet the man's eyes. Her smile is small and teasing and it makes the man huff in annoyance.
"Was everything to your liking, oh Great One?" her voice is filled with mirth and there's a strange gleam in her eyes that the man can't identify. 
After several minutes of silent stares the man sighs and decides to humour his lover. He moves his hands to her side gripping hard enough to leave bruises. But the woman doesn't seem to mind. Her small sighs hint that she even enjoys that.
"It certainly was, Madame Cheng," his voice drops slightly at the end of the sentence and it makes the woman giggle like a schoolgirl. Seeing her like that made it hard to remember she was one of the most skilled assassins in the world. Only her stature and white webs of scars reminded him of her lifestyle.
"Why wouldn't you use my name, beloved? We've been married for a year and you still use my alias," Madame Cheng is a formidable woman and she doesn't pout. No, sir, you're just seeing things.
"It's a name you've chosen and made for yourself. Your name was given to you by your parents," he stops mid sentence to change their position. Now he was on the top. "And you killed everyone who knew it to ensure nobody will ever know it. Only people you trust can use it."
"Marriage is supposed to be a sign of trust. I met you almost twelve years ago. I trust you not to kill me every night we spend together. I know you can kill me without any weapon and I know you always have a dagger with you. I… I like my name and would like you to use it. Please."
There's a dangerous gleam in the man's eyes and she needs several moments to stop shivering. That's what she gets for forgetting who her lover is but it was so easy. "I will use your name after you give birth to a boy."
His words leave a bad aftertaste in her mouth and even the man's hard kisses can't erase it. "It won't last. His gentleness won't last." Marrying the Demon's head may be her fall but she will mourn herself later. Now, she's losing herself in lust and please. She tries to not think that some parts of her won't return.
***
Talia remembers Madame Cheng clearly. She always admired the woman who became a mother figure to her.
Madame Cheng was more intelligent than most people gave her credit for and she knew Ra's al Ghul better than she let on. Talia compared her to an actress because she acted so different in front of her husband. Only in the privacy of Talia's room did she let down her walls. It made Talia feel special.
Madame Cheng was smart and she knew what kind of man Ra's al Ghul was and what he wanted from her, so she acted accordingly. She could read his mood perfectly. She gave him what he wanted because her survival and well being depended on it.
That's why Madame Cheng was preparing for the worst after she found out that she had given birth to a girl.
"But you can have more children!" Talia tried to argue. The woman laughed bitterly and shook her head. Her laugh slowly morphed into tears.
Talia didn't know what to make of her reaction. Sure, father wasn't satisfied when he heard that Madame Cheng had given birth to a girl, but he loved her. He would give her another chance, right?
"Childbirth was hard for me. I didn't get help fast enough and there were...some consequences. I can't have children anymore," she patiently explained.
"What are you preparing for?" Talia asked, feeling tears in her eyes. "He won't kill you! He loves you."
Madame Cheng sighed and took a breath to calm down. She got down on her knees and looked straight into Talia's eyes.
"Your father, my husband doesn't love me and...never did. It took me some time to understand that, ya amar. I was too naïve and blinded with his affectionate words. I thought I was special," Madame Cheng chuckled at that thought.
"Was it a marriage of convenience to him then?" Talia didn't know how to feel about this. On one hand, she knew that their union was beneficial to the League. Their child would be strong and healthy, a perfect heir. Everything would be perfect. It would be if Madame Cheng gave birth to a boy. And that was what made everything so confusing. Talia loved and adored Madame Cheng and she didn't know what she would when the woman died.
"Yes," the answer is barely a whisper but still so loud in the complete silence of the room.
"So you are just giving up?" Anger was swirling in her veins and Talia couldn't, didn't know how to get rid of it. "We can fake your death, create a false identity. There must be a way!"
Madame Cheng just shook her head and embraced the girl as tight as she could without hurting her. "Ra's will do everything to find me. He won't be satisfied until he sees my corpse," Madame Cheng noticed Talia's questioning look and continued: "He knows we're close and he doesn't want a stray element influencing his heir."
"What can I do for you?" Talia whispered brokenly.
"Talia, look at me. Talia, please, look at me," when the teen didn't move to meet her eyes Madame Cheng softly turned her head. "I know you're sad and angry but turning away from me isn't a solution. You won't get any closure if you continue avoiding confronting your feelings. They will always stay with you like invisible baggage."
"Would he really kill you because you can't give him an heir?" Talia knew she was grasping at straws but she couldn't stop. 
"He refused to call me by my name until I gave birth to a boy. I should have known how little I mean to him. And I won't be useful for a very long time. And the League doesn't condone and," she explained. "Can you promise me something?"
"Everything!"
"There's no need for that, ya amar. Promise to me you will be safe. Promise to me you will protect Marinette and yourself. Promise to be a better person and mother than your father or me. Promise me you will leave one day. Promise me you will be happy. And that's all I want."
"I promise, I promise, Madame Cheng," and in that vulnerable moment for both of them Talia never felt more confident in something. It was time to make an escape plan. 
Almost a year after that conversation Madame Cheng was sent to Bialiya. The mission should have been easy to a professional like Madame Cheng. And it would be if the woman were healthier. 
It didn't matter how much Talia begged her father to resurrect Madame Cheng. He didn't even bother to find her body for a proper burial!
Talia wanted nothing more than to cry in her bedroom for days straight. And why wouldn't she? The only person who had genuinely cared for her was dead. Unfortunately, mourning Madame Cheng so openly wasn't on option. First of all, she would show her weakness. And secondly, she had a sixteen months old Marinette. The baby couldn't even cry to mourn her own mother. She simply didn't understand what had happened to her.
That day Talia promised to herself dhe would teach Marinette everything Madame Cheng had taught her. She would never come close Madame Cheng but the baby deserved some love. Even if only from her older sister.
***
Emilie Agreste was a strong and independent woman. She didn't need her husband to approve her choices. If she wanted to spend time with Amira, she would do exactly that, Gabriel!
"She was sent to kill me, Emilie. She's an assassin. Butterfly is the only reason I am alive. You can't let your guard down. She will use your kind heart for her own gain," Gabriel explained his point of view.
"She. Is. A. Child! A child that doesn't know anything better. It wasn't her choice. I'm sure her parents did that for her," Emilie's heart bled every time she thought about the amount of trainings the girl had to go through. "And you can't stop me. I will go to her right now!"
Emilie turned away, her dress flaring dramatically after her. She grabbed the door handle, but the doors didn't open. Emilie could feel how she was and could hear Gabriel's exasperated sigh. "Oh great, because pushing doors you have to push to open is very dramatic," Emilie softly murmured to herself.
After capturing Amira they left her in an old bedroom. Gabriel made sure she couldn't open windows without alerting them and activating security before leaving her alone.
Emilie thought that the room was beautiful but wasn't sure Amira had the same opinion on it.
When she arrived Amira was laying on the bed, completely free from bounds. The girl looked bored but Emilie could see how tense she was.
"How are you, Amira? I came here to help you," now the girl was suspicious. Her tenseness was more obvious and Emilie silently berated herself for such poor choice of words.
"I know it wasn't your choice to become an assassin. I want to give you a little bit of love, Amira."
When the silence became too much to bear Emilie decided to continue talking. Even if it meant talking to herself. She told Amira stories about her family and how much she loved them. How Gabriel could be so annoying! And how talented Adrien was.
Amira slowly leaned away and laid on the bed. "Are you tired?" asked her Emilie but the girl just nodded. "I will let you have some rest."
The girl just silently hugged her. Emilie counted it as a victory. She slowly left the room activating security once again. 
"Did you check your pockets?" Gabriel's voice made her jump from surprise. Emilie nodded in denial and silently checked her pockets. Nothing was missing, except...for her phone. "Judging from your face that girl has stolen your phone."
Emilie felt so heartbroken she couldn't answer. It must have shown on her face because Gabriel softened. "I will go and take back your phone, love. After that I'll make you a cup of tea."
Emilie didn't notice anything. She didn't notice when her husband returned with her phone. She couldn't recall how they had ended up in their kitchen. Emilie couldn't remember how she had got a cup of tea.
"I don't blame her," she whispered so softly that Gabriel wasn't sure he had heard hee right. "I don't blame her for trying to escape. She doesn't know us. Why would she want to stay here?"
Gabriel just resignedly sighed. His wife was being too kind to that brat. He decided to not comment but his silence made Emilie more confident.
"Yes, I won't give up on her. I will do everything to deserve her trust," Gabriel could see fire in his wife's eyes. The very one he fell for years ago. Only now it wasn't directed at him but the brat that tried to kill him. It made him older and wearier. 
"I know you will get through her shell," Gabriel didn't believe in that. He knew the girl would attack Emilie if she hadn't seen his butterfly. He knew she knew what he had wanted to say.
***
Talia knew she was a bad older sister. A good sister wouldn't sit idly and drink tea while her little sibling was suffering! And Talia couldn't even do anything to help her (she checked three times before giving up).
"Why would you do that? Why?" Talia asked herself. "Was I not…"
But then she clearly heard Madame Cheng's voice in her head: "We both want her to be happy. You have to be honest with yourself. Are you angry because she left or are you hurt because she didn't take you with her?"
No matter how much she tried Talia couldn't answer that question. If she did, it would open a can of worms. She would have to answer more questions. Who did she love more? Her father or her sister? What did she value more?
But it didn't matter right now. Talia will be there for Marinette. She will protect her baby sister.
***
Sometimes Emilie Agreste was a mystery even to her own son. Nobody explained to him why she had spent so much time in one of the bedrooms. Adrien didn't know why she was so sad after she had stopped visiting that room. 
Every answer he got was too vague. "I'm mourning missed opportunities, my heart."
Adrien tried to not think that it was about a girl he had seen once in family's gardens. Her appearance blurred in his mind with time but he could remember midnight black hair and sky blue eyes. Adrien could admit she was pretty but he hated the fact that his parents refused to tell him anything about her. 
After Adrien understood that his questioning wouldn't give him any answers he decided to move on. It was quite easy. His mother disappeared not so long after his decision to stop pestering them about the girl in the garden. His father closed himself in his office and Adrien had to make an appointment to see him.
Adrien didn't understand why meeting Eris had brought back memories about the garden girl. 
"Why are you calling yourself Eris?" Adrien blurted out. In his defense it wasn't every day that he met superheroes.
"Eris is a greek goddess of discord. I wield the Miraculous of Destruction. I thought it was a fitting name," Eris sighed and tiredly rubbed her forehead. "One day I will make an official statement regarding my alias. Everyone asking why like they are banned from Google. Annoying."
"I'm sorry, Miss. I didn't know what to say," Adrien was really sorry. He knew how annoying it was to repeat things. He wanted to ask her about being a hero. He would ask "how does it feel to fly in the sky" and "how does it feel to be free". But Adrien is a perfect boy and perfect boys don't ask such questions. His words about freedom could be used against Gabriel. 
51 notes · View notes
tommodirection · 3 years
Text
Miss You More
Louis Tomlinson x Singer! Reader
Masterlist
Word Coung: 2.5k
Warnings: swearing, death, cancer, mentions of death
Disclaimer: Miss You More is an actual song that I wrote, and it isn’t published or anything, but it’s one I wrote about the loss of my grandfather, and so I may link it here if I feel like it so you know what the song is and what it’s about, there are just a few words you’d have to change, but anyways!
A/N: Heylo! I’m going to be honest with you, this is not my favorite thing I’ve ever written, and it’s a little corny, and poorly worded, but eh. It’s one am, I’m going to sleep after this! Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy! Thank you, and have a nice day!
——————
Ever since you were a child, you knew you wanted to sing.
It all started with your mum. When you were little, she’d always sing to you, every night before you went to bed.
Soon enough, you began singing back to her, and she loved every second of it.
You sang together every chance you got, singing in the car, in the house, at parties, even when you walked the dog together through your neighborhood.
She had encouraged you to make a YouTube channel for your music, knowing you’d make it big. At first, you were hesitant, not confident enough to post your voice on the internet, but you finally agreed weeks later.
You mostly did covers at first. Of course, your 14-year-old self didn’t know what she was doing. All she knew was that she was doing something she loved.
About a year after making the channel, you began making custom content. You learned to play the guitar and you’d use it almost every second. You took it everywhere. Well, everywhere you knew you’d be able to show off.
The songs were mostly about crushes and school and friends, the main things circling around your life at the time.
But it all changed when you were sixteen.
It was no secret your mother had cancer. She had since you were little, yet she had kept fighting it, succeeding for a few years.
The doctors had said she was getting better, on her way to becoming cured, well, as cured as she could be.
But out of nowhere, it plunged. She was coughing up blood, and could barely stand, needing assistance to go the bathroom. It just kept getting worse.
One of the worst parts of losing your mum was the fact that it was the holiday season, ruining the time of year for your family for years to come.
You remembered her final day alive. She was laying in the hospital bed, lips chapped and all colored drained from her face. Her lips were bloodied as well, reminisce of the blood she had hacked up minutes ago.
Your father and siblings were there beside her. Your father held your little brother, he was four at the time, and your younger sister was standing next to you, she was twelve. Alex didn’t fully understand what was happening, he just knew his mum wasn’t well, and he mostly hid his face in your father’s shoulder.
Morgan, however, understood exactly what was happening, and she was crying beside you. She was trying her best to hold back, maintaining a straight stance and trying to hide her shaking hands. You watched as tears flooded down her face, making small wet patches on the sheets.
You looked at your mum, studying her. She had done so much for all of you, but there was nothing you could do for her as she layed in the bed, motionless, save for her eyes, darting between all of you.
You knew how much singing meant to your mother, and so you did the only thing you knew you could do. You sang.
Her favorite holiday song was Silver Bells, so you started the song, your family soon joining in. Your mother smiled gratefully at all of you.
She joined in towards the chorus, her voice still weak, but just as beautiful as when you first heard it.
Those were your last moments with your mother.
She passed away hours later, the anticipated news crushing your family.
You had all slept together that night, knowing you couldn’t be apart. Alex didn’t know what had happened, and you knew your father couldn’t handle it, so you had stepped in, trying to explain to the boy that his mum was gone, and she wasn’t coming back.
After she passed, you had stopped uploading to your channel, getting emotional every time you even tried singing.
But months later, you had decided not to give up. Instead, you chose to move forward. You started writing again.
The song you were writing was about your mother, it seemed fitting. You knew no amount of words could ever sum up your relationship with her, nor your grief, but you tried your best in the song.
You had spent a few months writing the song, not it a rush. You were pouring your heart into this song, and if it was rushed, you knew it’d have no meaning, just some words with a few riffs thrown in.
A few days after your seventeenth birthday, you uploaded the video onto your account, the first video uploaded since your mother had died.
After uploading it, you decided to turn your computer off for the night. You knew how obsessive you got with checking your feedback, you normally refreshed the page until your fingers were sore.
Instead, you walked into the kitchen, guitar forgotten. You hadn’t shared the song with your family yet, and you knew you needed to do acapella, it was much more fitting.
You were scared of how they were going to react, especially your dad and Morgan.
Immediately after finishing the song, Morgan tackled you in a hug, burying her head in your shoulder, “Thank you,” she mumbled and you pelt tears pricking your eyes.
Your dad stood, his hand over his mouth. Alex was sitting at the table, eating his cereal. You waited in silence for a few moments, waiting for your dad to say something, but nothing.
Alex interrupted the silence, “That’s the first time I’ve heard you sing in a while, sissy,” he said, a wide grin. You don’t know where your family would be without Alex. He knew exactly how to light up a whole room, he knew how to make people feel better.
“I know, bud,” you smiled and he gave you a toothy grin, turning back to his cereal.
You dad finally let out a small, choked sob, “I miss her so much,” he said, opening his arms. You quickly collapsed in them. He was the one you wanted approval from the most.
“I do too, Dad,” you whispered.
Years later, you found yourself at Triple Strings Record Label.
A man sat in front of you, shuffling through some papers at his desk. He sighed loudly, and shoved the papers aside, giving you his full attention, “So, miss L/N, we’ve heard some of your work, and were quiet big fans,” he said, folding his hands in front of him.
“Thank you,” you smiled nervously, and he glanced at the clock.
“Well, my name is Bryan, Bryan Detreon. I’m an agent here for all the upcoming stars in the music industry, although I can’t take credit for finding you, that goes to the creator of the label himself,” he chuckled and you froze.
“Wait, the owner as in, like, Louis Tomlinson?” You asked, suddenly sitting up in your chair.
Of course you knew who Louis Tomlinson was. You were a year younger than him, grew up with him on the screen and on the radio.
He let out a small laugh, “Yeah, as in Louis Tomlinson, he found you personally and requested you be brought in. He’s offering you a contract, I’ve emailed it to you, but I’d like to go over it now, just to point out some things! Now, he said to take as much time as you needed to decide. You can have a lawyer look over this if you’d like, and just back to us when you have an answer! Although, he’d probably prefer to have it before the beginning of his tour! Oh yeah! He wants you as his one opening act!” He finished, pushing a copy of the document towards you.
You took a second to process what he had said, and when you finally had. You nearly fell out of your chair. “He wants me to open for him?!”
“Yup,” he continued as if it were nothing. “Now, in the first section…” you tuned him out, you’d read it at home.
Louis fucking Tomlinson wanted you to open for him. How were you supposed to say no? Your dream come true, after years of posting on YouTube and going to school to study music, hoping someone would find you, and it had all led to this.
Twenty-six years of your life, all leading up to this moment.
“Any questions?” Bryan asked, locking eyes with your
You quickly shook your head, gathering your stuff and standing up. “Nope, thank you so much for this opportunity, I will definitely look it over and email you as soon as I know! Thank you!” You rambled, and ran out the door, trying to rush home.
“I got fucking signed!” You screamed into the empty household. You had your own place, but you felt the need to run to your family’s home to share the news.
Your dad walked in from the kitchen, Alex trailing behind him. Alex was fourteen now, which now meant he was starting to call horn father out on his bullshit, not that there was much.
“Welcome home to you too,” your Dad teased, and Alex looked up, his face instantly lighting up. He ran and wrapped his arms around you, he was beginning to tower over you.
“I missed you,” he grumbled, trying to hide his face.
You laughed and patted his back, “I missed you too bud.”
“What’s this about being signed?” Morgan strolled into the room, she was still living at home, finishing her last semester of university. She had grown into a beautiful woman, looking almost identical to your mother.
“Right! So, I got a call and email about an interview, and it said to meet at the Sony label here, and to go to the Triple String label office! I get there, and the guy tells me that they’re huge fans and want me to sign a contract with them! Turns out, LOUIS FUCKING TOMLINSON WANTS ME TO OPEN FOR HIM!” You screamed, not caring about the neighbors.
Morgan swooped you into a hug, you hated being the shortest. “Aw, my big sis is going to be a pop star!”
Months later, you stood backstage, picking at your sleeve. You glanced behind the curtain and saw hundreds of people standing and an endless chatter.
It was your first show of the tour, you had rehearsed hundreds of times, but that did nothing to settle your nerves.
Louis only had one opening act. You. You were all the crowd got before him, so you had to impress them.
You felt someone grab your waist from behind, as you nearly jumped out of your skin. You heard a small giggle in response, recognizing the voice.
You turned to playfully glare at Louis, your boyfriend of four months. You had bonded during rehearsals, and bonded over your similar life experiences, and soon enough, you had begun dating.
Only a handful of people knew, his family, and the crew on tour with you. You weren’t prepared to tell your family yet.
“What are you lookin at?” He asked, wrapping an arm around you. You rested your head on his chest.
“Just looking at the crowd, it’s huge,” you mumbled and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
“It’ll be alright, they’ll love you,” he assured, and you smiled at him, grateful for his company.
“Thank you Lou,” you went to give him a proper kiss, but you were interrupted by the stage manager, telling you it was time for you to get in your position.
You quickly waved Louis goodbye, and ran to your platform under the stage, the one that you’d be rising up on in seconds.
They gave you a countdown, and a crew member handed you a mic.
On one, they hauled you up, your hand already in their places.
You were met with a roar of cheers and applause as you surfaced, singing one of your most popular songs, ‘Don’t Start With Me Now,’ written about an old, toxic, best friend.
It was thrilling, hearing the people singing your lyrics back to you, you were shocked they knew them. Being on stage gave you adrenaline you’d never experienced before, and soon, all your nerves flooded away.
As you finished your song, you heard the crowd erupted into cheers, whistles being scattered throughout the crowd. Monologue time.
“Hey guys!” You greeted. “My name is Y/N L/N, and I have been chosen by the honorable host, Louis Tomlinson, to open the show up for you guys! I won’t be up here for long, just enough time to play a few more songs, but don’t worry, I’ll be back soon enough!” You hinted, the crowd screaming in response.
You played through all of the songs you’d written, well, except for one. You hadn’t played Miss You More yet, there was a surprise to come later on.
You gave a farewell to the audience, and stepped off stage, the hair and make-up people touching you up before you could even regain your footing.
Louis didn’t particularly like breaks, so the second you were off the platform, he was getting on.
You stood by, waiting for your cue.
The stage manager nodded, and you stepped onto the platform, your dress changed into a skirt and a nice blouse, courtesy of the costume department.
“Now, I have a special guest here to be with me on stage tonight. We both lost our mothers, when they were both remarkably young, and both to cancer. We’ve both written songs about it, and we thought we’d make a mash-up for you guys tonight!” He exclaimed, and the crowd's cheers nearly popped your ear.
Your platform began moving up, revealing you to the crowd. The cheers echoed through the stadium, and you smiled, waving at them, taking your place beside Louis.
You were counted in, and your mashup of Two of Us and Miss You More began. It was one of your favorite things you’d ever taken part in creating, having input from both you and Louis, not just some producers telling you what to do. This was all you.
The last chords of the song bellowed throughout the stadium. The audience’s cries and shouts of praise filled the room once again.
You looked over at Louis, who was busy admiring the crowd, his blue eyes lit up, a genuine smile on his face. It was at this moment that you realized something; you were in love with this man.
His eyes finally caught yours, and he gestured to the crowd, who was still burning as bright as before.
You smiled and whispered, “I love you.”
You knew Louis had gotten great and lip readings he had basically mastered it.
He quickly out his mic back on the stand and pulled you into a hug, leaning down to say something into your ear, just loud enough so you could hear, “I love you too.”
The next day, Louis was pulled into an interview before you headed to the next location. The questions were pretty simple ones, mostly openers for him to promote the movie, but there was one question at the end that made you both smile.
“What song did you fall in love to?”
You knew the answer.
A/N: Let me know if you wanna be added to my permanent taglist! Just send an ask or a message!
Permanent Taglist: @everything-is-alrightt
69 notes · View notes
izzyfandoms · 4 years
Text
Sleepality - Inky Freckles
SHIPS: Sleepality, background Virmile and Thomgan, and mentioned Dukeceit (though neither of them show up)
WARNINGS: Remus sends one text message with an implied threat (not towards the recipient), very very background sympathetic deceit and remus (they aren't acc in any scenes), mild swearing
GENERAL TAGLIST: @quillfics42 @ajdraws0430 @phantomofthesanderssides @creativity-killed-thekitten @phlying-squirrel @sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game @because-were-fam-ily @imtryingthisout @a-creepycookie @emo-disaster @littlestr @spooky-scary-virgil @fuyel @mimsidoodles @soupgremlin @aroaceagenderfluid @birdsbookshiddeninrealbirdsskin @quirkalurk @gingers-trashy-stuff @iinyxtello @justaqueercactus @melodiread
Masterpost
Patton chewed distractedly on the end of his pen, tapping his foot on his bedroom floor as his eyes remained on his clock, watching as the seconds and the minutes ticked by.
Five minutes. Ten seconds.
Five minutes and ten seconds until the moment he turned sixteen.
January 15th, 1:46 am on the dot: the exact date and time of Patton’s birth. Precisely sixteen years after that moment, his soul would open up, and the bond between him and his soulmate would be formed, like an invisible string from one soul to the other. Any ink spilled on Patton’s skin would show up on his soulmate’s, too, and vice versa. Of course, nothing would happen if Patton’s soulmate wasn’t also sixteen yet, but it was still a big moment in his young life.
(If he even had a soulmate, that was. Most people didn’t, but Patton wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t hopeful.)
Four minutes. Thirty-six seconds.
Patton got up from his desk, pacing around the room a few times before sitting down on his bed, leaning back against the pillows and pulling his knees to his chest. Despite the coolness of his room, and the goose-bumps on his arms, he was dressed in a worn blue t-shirt and pyjama shorts, revealing as much skin as possible, just in case. His father, Roman, had gifted him a new pack of pens – the ones made specially to be safe for skin – and he’d picked out the glittery light blue one, his favourite colour, ready to write.
Three minutes. Twelve seconds.
“Come on, come on, come on,” Patton mumbled.
Three minutes. Seven seconds.
He yawned loudly, stretching and almost dropping his pen. It was late – much later than he usually stayed up. Patton was a well-behaved kid; he went to bed when his father told him to, never stayed out past curfew. He was usually fast asleep by 11pm at latest, so this was rather unusual for him.
Tonight was one of a kind, after all.
Two minutes. Fifty-one seconds.
The tick of the clock was maddeningly slow, every second seeming to take hours. Patton couldn’t wait for when he didn’t have to keep watching.  
He reached over to his bedside table, taking his phone and switching it on.
There was one new message, from his uncle Remus, sent a few minutes ago.
UNCLE REMUS
tell your soulmate if he ever hurts you ill rip off his dick and shove it down his throat
Patton sighed, switching off his phone and placing it back down beside him. He wasn’t sure why his uncle was so certain that he had a soulmate – he claimed it was because he was psychic, though his husband, Janus, had chided him and told him not to get Patton’s hopes up.  
It was hard not to be hopeful. Impossible.
One minute. Forty-nine seconds.
Patton chewed nervously on his lip, looking over his freckled arms and wondering what exactly he’d write to his soulmate.
Would a simple ‘hello’ suffice?
There was no point in writing a whole paragraph, especially when it was statistically unlikely that Patton even had a soulmate – and even if he did, perhaps they were younger, and their connection wouldn’t start until his soulmate turned sixteen, too.
One minute. Zero seconds.
A minute. A minute. A minute. Just a minute until Patton (maybe) talked to his soulmate for the first time. That was so little time – though it felt like so much.
Patton couldn’t help but burst into delighted laughter, and he was sure that if anybody was watching him, they’d think he was insane. The hope bubbled up inside him, like a cup overflowing with water, unable to be suppressed.
Fifty seconds.
He moved forward, and then lay down on his back, spreading his arms out like a starfish.
Patton tried to keep the hope down, tried to keep it from spilling over even more. Or maybe that was nausea, swirling in his stomach, but it almost felt too good to be that. Too happy. Too excited. Both, maybe.
Forty seconds.
Patton twirled the pen in his hand.
It slipped from his fingers, hitting the carpet with a quiet thump.
He bent down – wobbling slightly and nearly tumbling right off his bed – picking it back up and then sitting up again. He moved so his back was pressed against the wall, and tilted his head up to look at the pattern at the ceiling, counting each swirl.
He glanced back at the clock.
Twenty seconds.
His heart thumped loudly in his chest, and his eyes remained on the clock, watching it tick.
Ten seconds.
Nine.
Eight.
Seven.
Six.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
Zero.
Zero. Zero. Zero.
Patton sat up straight, squeezing the pen tightly, so tightly that his nails dug into his palm.
He pulled off the cap, dropping it on the bed beside him and holding the tip just above his wrist. His hand shook (nervousness or excitement? Both) as he pondered what to write for another moment.
He pressed the pen to his skin.
Hello?
Hopefully that was good enough.
Patton waited a few seconds, almost a whole minute, and then sighed, leaning back so his head hit the wall and closing his eyes. He was disappointed, but he knew that it was his own fault. He shouldn’t have let himself get so hopeful. Maybe he didn’t have a soulmate – that was alright, his uncles weren’t soulmates and yet they were wonderfully happy together.
(But his brother, Emile, did have a soulmate, and there was something amazing about the way he and Virgil could practically read each other’s minds, communicating effortlessly without saying a word. Patton wanted that. He really, desperately wanted that, more than anything else in the world.)
He wouldn’t cry.  
He wanted to cry, but he wouldn’t.
His lower lip trembled.
All of a sudden, Patton felt a funny sensation on his wrist, like someone else was writing on it – the non-existent pen so light on his skin he almost couldn’t feel it. Almost.
Patton’s eyes shot open, and he immediately lifted his wrist to stare at it, wide-eyed.
His breath stuttered at the words now written in black ink just below his greeting.
holy shit
Before Patton could truly process what was going on, before he could regain his breath, the sensation resumed, and more words began to appear below those first ones.
hi
guess im ur soulmate lol
Patton couldn’t help but giggle, practically vibrating with excitement.
He picked his pen back up, ignoring the slight stain he’d left on his bedsheets. He’d spilt enough juice and milk on his bed to care about one little stain, especially right now, when he had a much more important thing to focus on.
Oh my gosh!!!!!!
Soulmate!!!
Im Patton!
Patton Picani!!!
thats a lot of exclamation marks babe
Nervousness tinged the edges of Patton’s bubble of excitement, enough that he almost didn’t notice the use of the word ‘babe’, which made his heart skip a beat.
sorry
not a bad thing
its cute
Patton bit his lip, wiggling excitedly as his heartrate increased. He watched as the words continued coming. They were messy, but Patton was sure the handwriting was the prettiest he’d ever seen, though he could admit that he might’ve been a little biased. He would read a million books written in this handwriting.
im Remy
Sanders
my bdays acc the 16th lol
tomorrow
i turn 17
Its my birthday today!!!!
Only after Patton wrote that did he realise how obvious it was – of course it was his birthday – but he didn’t particularly care. The ticking of the clock had faded into background noise, and it was hard to believe it had ever annoyed him so much, though it was impossible for him to think of anything negative right now. He was floating on cloud nine.
happy birthday
were running out of arm space
id have to strip to get leg room
wanna gimme ur number?
Okay!!!
They quickly exchanged phone numbers, and Patton immediately grabbed his phone, creating a new contact labelled ‘Remy’ followed by seven colourful hearts – a rainbow of love. But before he could text Remy, Remy texted him first.
REMY:
what time is it for u
Patton glanced at the clock.
PATTON:
Almost 2am
REMY:
same
Realisation struck Patton, and his eyes widened with guilt and concern. He bit his lip, and quickly resumed typing.
PATTON:
Oh my gosh im so sorry!!!! Did I wake you up?
REMY:
nah babe dw bout it
i was already up
i always sleep late
PATTON:
That sounds unhealthy :(
Get some rest!!!
REMY:
ha
u sound like my dads lol
PATTON:
What are they like?
REMY:
my dads?
its just the three of us
their names are logan and thomas and theyre the sappiest motherfuckers on earth
gotta love em tho
theyre gonna be real thrilled when they find out bout u
bet theyll love you right away
wbu  
whats ur fam like
PATTON:
Oh! Well ive got my dad
His name’s Roman
He works in theatre!!! Hes so cool
And I’ve got my older brother Emile hes 22 and hes a therapist
He uses cartoons to help people!!
Hes also got a soulmate his name is Virgil and hes a florist
They got married last year and the wedding was so much fun!!! So many pretty flowers!!!
And I’ve got my uncle Remus hes my dads twin hes a writer and his husband Janus is a lawyer theyre also both so cool!!!
And that’s everyone!!
REMY:
if theyre all as sweet as u sugar then im sure ur all v popular
PATTON:
Well we do have dinner with our neighbours a lot!!!
Mrs Smith gives me lots of candy
Its often stale but I eat it anyway cos shes just so sweet!
Sweeter than her candy lol
Patton’s door suddenly swung open, and he jumped, his phone slipping from his fingers and landing right in his lap. His father, Roman, stepped inside, yawning and rubbing his eyes, wincing at the bright light that hung from the ceiling.
“You still up, Pat?” He asked sleepily.
He squinted, his eyes landing on the still-on phone in Patton’s lap.
“Who are you te- by the glittering horn of a unicorn! Is that writing on your arm?” He sat down, taking Patton’s arm and looking over the words. He then glanced back up at his son, his eyes shining excitedly. “You have a soulmate,” He breathed.
“I do!” Patton exclaimed, bouncing excitedly in place. “His name is Remy and he turns seventeen tomorrow and he’s just so cool!”
Roman beamed. “Wow, I’m so incredibly happy for you, Pat!” He said. Then, he chuckled, his smile turning a little teasing. “But... it’s late, and you really should be sleeping. And I’m betting that Remy should be, too.”
Patton pouted a little. “But it’s a Friday! I don’t have any school tomorrow.”
“But the family’s coming over tomorrow at 10 for your birthday, and I know you. You’re gonna be all grumbly in the morning, instead of our happy-pappy Patton, and that’ll be even worse the less sleep you get.”
Patton drooped, like a little wilting flower, but couldn’t deny that his father was right.
“Okay...” He frowned, picking up his phone, switching off the screen without looking at it, and holding it against his chest. “Can I at least say night to Remy, first?”
Roman smiled. “Sure.”
He leant forward, squeezing Patton’s arm supportively, before pressing a quick kiss to his son’s forehead. Roman gave him one last smile, affectionately ruffling his hair, before pulling back and standing up. He brushed the non-existent dirt from his pyjamas.
“Goodnight, Pat,” He said. “And happy birthday.”
In the excitement that was talking to Remy, Patton had almost forgotten that it was his birthday, and he blinked in surprise as Roman left the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.
Patton then took a deep breath, before switching his phone back on to see whatever messages he’d missed.
REMY:
u rlly r an angel huh
PATTON:
Awwwww!!
Your making me blush
REMY:
thats the goal babe
PATTON:
Such a flirt!!
REMY:
im gonna be ten times more flirty when i get to see ur pretty face in person
PATTON:
How do you know Im pretty?
You havent even seen me yet
REMY:
i can just tell
im awesome like that
i bet ur the cutest person in the whole damn world
the whole damn universe
but while were on the subject of seeing each other
were waiting to meet naturally right?
PATTON:
Yeah!
Its good luck  
REMY:
yea
PATTON:
Welp!!!
Dad says I gotta go to sleep now!!
Night <3<3<3
REMY:
night xoxox
Patton switched off his phone, placing it on his bedside table and getting off the bed. He wobbled slightly as he stood up, suddenly realising how tired he really was, and quickly walked up to his fairy lights, switching them on before switching off the main light. He then climbed back into bed, settling in the soft nest of pastel pillows and blankets, and his last thought before he fell asleep was of his soulmate.
He barely knew Remy, but he already couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with him.
***
The sound of the alarm from Remy’s phone rang through the room, waking him up suddenly. His immediate reaction was to groan, shutting it off quickly and then returning to the warm comfort of his mattress and pillows and blanket. It was the weekend, he had no plans, so if his dads wanted him up, they could come in and get him up themselves. Remy wanted to sleep.
Then, the memories of the night before flooded back to him, and he shot up in bed, pulling out his arm and staring at it wide-eyed.
The words Patton had written last night had now been washed away – likely to leave room for new words and new conversations – whilst Remy’s words still remained, though now a little smudged and faded. The only sign that Patton’s words had ever been there in the first place was the new word on his wrist, just below his palm, in baby blue, like the ones before.
Morning <3
Remy grinned, jumping out of bed much more enthusiastically than he usually did, grabbing the black pen on his bedside table and rushing to the bathroom, thankfully not bumping into either of his dads on the way there.
He washed his arms as quickly as he could, leaving them a little sore and red, though he didn’t care, and uncapped his pen with his teeth, leaving the lid in his mouth.
mornin
!!!!!
Do you always get up this late?
Remy laughed. The handwriting was a little larger and a little neater than his, and each i was dotted with a heart, which made him even more convinced that his soulmate was probably the cutest person on earth.
what time is it
10:30
later usually
what time did u get up
8:30
oof
i could never
What do you do for school then?
suffer
Remy took the pen lid out of his mouth, pocketing it and twirling the uncapped pen between his fingers, watching as more light blue words appeared on his arm. The sensation was feather-light, barely there, but impossible to ignore.
Aww no!!
I don’t want you to suffer :(
dw babe ive got coffee
life saver
id die without it
100%
Well make sure you don’t drink too much!!!!
Its bad for you!!
dw my dad always tells me that
he keeps an eye on it
Which one?
logan
Okay
There was a brief pause, and Remy almost continued writing, but he got the feeling that Patton wasn’t done, so he just waited patiently, tapping his foot against the tiled bathroom floor.
Do you mind if I doodle on my arms?
I usually do when Im bored but I thought Id ask
I wont if you don’t want me to tho
go ahead
what do u doodle?
I usually just connect my freckles
Like little constellations!!!!
It was impossible to keep the grin on Remy’s face from widening – Patton's enthusiasm was adorable and infectious – and he sat down on the edge of the bathtub, crossing one leg over the other as he pressed his pen to his skin and continued writing.
u got a lot of freckles?
Yup!
Theyre everywhere
everywhere?
Yeah!
hm
one day  
im gonna kiss every single one of your freckles
(Perhaps that was a little bold for only their second conversation, but Remy was a natural flirt, and Patton was his soulmate, after all. He’d back down at any sign of discomfort, but so far Patton had seemed receptive.)
every single one
Thats a lot of kisses
not enough
but itll be a good start
A little, swirly scribble appeared just beside the words Remy had written – the universal key-smash equivalent for soulmates writing on their skin. Just the thought that he was already able to fluster Patton so easily made Remy very, very happy. He grinned.
Gtg! Presents time!
Ill talk to you later <3<3<3
later xoxo
Remy fished the pen lid back out of his pocket, capping the pen and pocketing it. He then strolled back out of the bathroom, down the stairs, and towards the kitchen.
His fathers were both sat at the kitchen table, eating breakfast and talking. Their legs were pressed together under the table, and it was clear they’d just been flirting. Both Logan and Thomas looked up when Remy entered the room, surprised.
“What kind of natural disaster got you up before midday?” Thomas joked.
Remy waved his arm, showing off the writing, and Logan choked on his coffee. Thomas patted his back a few times worriedly, and Remy waited impatiently for the conversation to resume, tapping his foot against the floor.
“Is that what I think it is?” Logan asked incredulously, once he was breathing again.
Remy nodded. “Yup. Can I make coffee?”
Thomas nodded slowly, but it was clear he was much more focused on the previous topic at hand.
“You have a soulmate?” He asked. “Oh my gosh! What’s their name? Aren’t you gonna tell us about them?”
“Well, his name’s Patton,” Remy began, heading towards the coffee machine and immediately getting to work to make himself a large mug. “It’s his birthday today – it was actually, like, 2am, or something – and he’s real cute. I think you’ll both like him.”
Thomas exchanged a look with his husband – the former much more openly thrilled, whilst the latter looked more confused, though undeniably pleased. He then stood up, opening his arms immediately.
“I think this calls for a family hug,” Thomas grinned.
Logan sighed, but put his own coffee mug back down, getting up obediently.
Remy groaned. “Really? Before my coffee? Do I have to?”
“Yup! Right now,” Thomas said, wrapping one arm around Logan’s waist and resting his chin on his head, keeping his other arm outstretched, awaiting their son. “This is a big moment! It calls for a family hug. C’mere.”
“There is no point refusing, Remy,” Logan said dryly. “I learnt that a long time ago.”
“Aww, you love me.”
“Of course. That is why we got married, after all.”
Remy groaned again. “Are you two really flirting, right now? Gross.”
“Well, if you want us to stop flirting, you’re gonna have to join the hug.”
Remy sighed exaggeratedly, dragging his feet as he walked up to his dads, reluctantly joining the family hug. Then, he pulled back as quickly as he could get away with, making a face and turning back to the coffee machine. He quickly made himself a large mug – with excessive amounts of milk and sugar, something his father would usually criticise, though he seemed to turn a blind eye for today.
Remy then sat down at the table, beside Thomas, sipping eagerly at his coffee and leaning back in his chair.
His fathers didn’t take their eyes off of his arm, clearly reading the words, and after about a minute, Remy rolled his eyes, placing the coffee on his table and crossing his arms.
“What are you looking at?”
“Attitude, Remy,” Thomas sighed. “Be nice. And we’re looking at your arm because we’re excited! You have a soulmate, that’s a really big deal! We should celebrate.”
Remy perked up. “Celebrate?”
Logan nodded in agreement. “Perhaps tonight we could have dinner at the Italian place that you like.”
“Ooh, the one with that fancy pasta?”
“Weren’t we planning on going there tomorrow?” Thomas asked his husband.
Remy blinked, surprised. “We were?”
Thomas blinked, and then gave his husband a slightly sheepish smile. “I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that.”
Logan sighed. “Well, I think we can put that off for tomorrow, then. Today... you may invite a few friends over.” Remy opened his mouth, but Logan quickly continued, interrupting him before he could speak. “Three friends, maximum. No parties.”
Remy pouted. “Only three? Lame.”
“If you complain, we’ll bring it down to two.”
“Three sounds great!”
***
Patton picked up his phone, holding it to his ear as he paced casually around his room.
“Emile!” He greeted. “How are you?”
“Happy birthday, Pat!” Emile greeted cheerfully, and Patton could practically hear the usual smile on his face. “And I’m doing great. Virgil invited his brother to dinner yesterday, so that was fun, and I had a real breakthrough with one of my clients, too. You?”
“I’m good! Hey, do you think this counts as Remy and my anniversary? I mean, I know we haven’t actually really met, yet, but it’s been a year since we first spoke, and we are soulmates. Does that count? Would it be weird to count it?”
Emile hummed. “I think that if you want it to count, it counts.”
“That’s a bit vague,” Patton sighed.
Emile laughed. “That’s just how it works, I’m afraid. How is Remy anyway? It’s his birthday tomorrow, right?”
Patton perked up at the opportunity to talk about his soulmate. “Remy’s great! He got a new job at the Starbucks near his house; he’s pretty excited about it. And yup, it’s his birthday tomorrow! He turns eighteen. It’s a funny coincidence, isn’t it? That our birthdays are so close?”
“It’s actually a lot more common for soulmates to have these similarities than you’d think,” Emile said. “Close birthdays, close locations, things like that. I mean, Virgil and I were both born in the same hospital.”
“Really? Oh, that’s cool!” Patton smiled.
He sat down on his bed, pulling his legs up to sit cross-legged, and moving so his back was against the wall, half-sitting on one of his pillows.
“Yup! I’ve researched a lot about these things,” Emile said. “And- oh, Virgil, there you are!”
Patton heard rustling on the other end of the line, like Emile was temporarily putting his phone down, probably to greet and kiss his husband. He waited patiently, humming a song from the Steven Universe movie and drumming his fingers against his leg. His eyes scanned the various words written across his arms. Shiny black and glittery light blue. There were doodles, too – lines connecting the dots of his freckles, done by himself, and little stars and moons and hearts by Remy.
Then the rustling resumed, more movement, and Patton stopped humming.
“Morning, Pat,” Virgil greeted.
Patton smiled. “Virgil! How’s work going?”
“Not bad. I helped a guy arrange a hate-bouquet for his ex-boyfriend yesterday, so that was fun.”
“Sounds interesting!”
Virgil hummed in agreement, and it sounded like he was nodding. “I’m gonna hand the phone back to Emile, now. Happy birthday, kid.”
“Thanks!”
There was another moment of rustling, and then Emile returned.
“Okay, Virgil and I have to get to work,” Emile said. “We’re stopping by later for dinner, dad already knows. And, before you ask, no I will not tell you what your gift is, you’re gonna have to wait and see.”
Patton pouted. “Aww, okay. Bye!”
“Bye!”
Patton hung up the phone, before switching over to the texting app, and opening up his conversation with Remy.
PATTON
Hey im running out of space
So im gonna clean my arm
Can you too?
Remy responded almost immediately, as he usually did.
REMY
sure
one sec
Patton smiled, getting up and pocketing his phone. He headed over to the bathroom, quickly scrubbing away the words on his arms (he could leave the ones still remaining on his legs and torso, for now), and watching as Remy’s words disappeared at about the same time.
He then returned to his bedroom, sitting back down on his bed and fetching and uncapping his favourite pen.
The moment the tip of his pen touched his skin, a small black dot appeared just below it, like Remy was doing the exact same on his side – unintentionally trying to write in unison. All of a sudden, a wave of peace and happiness washed over Patton, but the emotions didn’t come from within himself. No, they came from an outside source, from somewhere else. Not from him.
From Remy.
At first, Patton was confused, disoriented, and then his heart skipped a beat, and he lifted his pen from his wrist.
The feeling stopped.
He then returned the pen to his wrist, creating another dot of light blue ink. For a moment, nothing happened, the feeling didn’t return, but then a small black speck appeared just beside his.
This time, the happiness was joined by an almost cautious excitement, tinged with something else.
What was it?
Love?
Love.
It felt like Patton was loving himself, except the love came from elsewhere, it came from Remy. Like a warm, comfortable blanket of love, wrapping around him and keeping him safe.
Patton beamed, wide and toothy and delighted, leaning back against the pillows and practically wiggling with excitement, careful to keep his pen tip on his wrist. A similar, thrilled feeling came back at him, and Patton quickly realised that whatever feelings he was getting from Remy, Remy was probably getting some very similar feelings in return from him.
damn babe
either something v weird is happening to me or thats ur feelings im feeling
I can feel it too!!!
Oh my gosh!
good i was worried i might be drunk
Have you been drinking?
nah thats why i was worried lmao
would be v weird to be drunk with no booze
Well that sure would be unusual!
The feelings from Remy weren’t constant, they only surfaced when both Patton and Remy were writing at once – flashes of emotions that were practically addicting. He wanted to keep feeling those feelings forever.
this is v weird
on and off
think itll get more constant the more we talk?
like we wont need to be both writing at the same time to feel it or smth?
Yeah!
I think so
Thats what happened with Em and Virge at least
cool
cant wait
There was a brief pause, and then Remy’s writing resumed.
can we doodle?
might make the empathy connection thingy better
Sure!
Patton giggled, unable to help himself, before pressing the tip of his pen to one of his freckles and drawing a thin line from it to another. Then another and another and another. Over and around the written words. He wasn’t making any specific shape or pattern in particular, just connecting the numerous dots. As he did this, Patton felt new shapes and doodles appearing on his legs, though he couldn’t see them through his trousers. Hearts and stars and moons and pawprints, most likely. The last one was new – Patton’s favourite.
He could feel Remy’s peace and contentment and love (love, love), like it was flowing through the air and seeping through his skin, filling him with happiness. Sometimes, it even increased for a brief moment, usually just after Patton’s happiness bubbled over into delighted giggles. It was a cycle – happiness creating happiness creating happiness.
Patton loved Remy. Remy loved Patton.
Love. Love. Love.
***
“Hey, Remy!”
Remy glanced up from his phone, straightening up as noticed and watched his best friend, Toby, approaching him. His foot tapped impatiently against the pavement, and his sunglasses were on to shield his eyes from bright midday sun.
“Gurl, what was taking you so long?” Remy complained, stuffing his phone into his pocket and crossing his arms, practically pouting. “I’ve been waiting here for, like, hours.”
Toby gave him a dry look. “I’m ten minutes late.”
“And that’s, like, ten hours in gay-and-in-a-hurry time.”
“In a hurry? What the hell are we even doing? Your text was very vague.”
“Well, it’s my dad’s birthday in a-”
“Which one?”
“Thomas. Bitch, stop interrupting me.”
Toby laughed, and Remy glared at him. He held his hands up defensively in mock surrender, and then gestured for Remy to continue.
“Anyway, it’s my dad’s birthday on Sunday and I’m supposed to get him a gift. I dunno what, though, so you’re gonna help me.”
“I’m pretty sure you know him better than I do.”
Remy shushed him. “Gurl, I am not letting you get out of helping me. So, we’re going to-”
He suddenly froze, going silent. Remy’s brow then creased, too, and after a moment of stillness he began to rapidly pat his arms and legs, like he was looking for something, though he didn’t seem to find it. Toby gave him a bewildered look.
“Dude, what are you doing?”
“I can feel Patton’s emotions,” Remy said.
He could, but only barely – just little hints of Patton, pricking the edges of his soul – much less than he was used to, but still impossible to ignore. He was used to these feelings by now, always recognising them immediately, though this time it was... different.
“Okay... so, he’s writing to you? Isn’t that normal?”
Remy looked back at him, looking just as confused as Toby. “No, he isn’t. He isn’t writing to me. No ink.”
“He... isn’t?”
“I can always feel it,” Remy explained. “Always. But not right now. Why... why-” He froze, his eyes widening behind his dark sunglasses.  
“What?”
“He must be close. He must- oh my god, he must be close!” Remy looked around quickly, at all of the surrounding pedestrians. None of them looked right – none of them were Patton – but he could practically sense him. He was so close.
Toby blinked. “Really?” He asked incredulously.
“Yes. Yes, really. I know what I’m talking about!” Remy exclaimed, perhaps a little harsher than intended. “The empath shit only happens when you write or when you’re close. Gurl, that’s, like, common knowledge.”
Toby held his hands up. “Right, uh... sorry.” He cleared his throat. “So, how are we gonna find him?”
Remy’s brow scrunched up in thought. ��I don’t know.”
His best friend shrugged, even more lost than he was.
“Maybe... maybe...” Remy continued, trailing off, before he suddenly straightened up. “It’ll get stronger the closer I get to him, so I just have to follow where it’s stronger, right? Like... like getting warmer and colder.”
Toby nodded slowly. “That makes sense. So, uh, walk around, and we’ll go in the direction that makes it stronger.”
Remy immediately began to pace in circles around Toby, pulling a slightly panicked face when at one point the feeling completely disappeared. Then, it got stronger, a wave of anticipation and curiosity, nervousness and excitement.
It suddenly hit Remy that if he could feel Patton, then Patton could feel him, too.
Patton was probably looking for him.
The corners of Remy’s lips twitched up into a smile. He was practically oozing excitement, and it was contagious, as Patton’s also seemed to increase – even Toby began smiling, too.
Toby patted him on the shoulder.
“Go on, follow your gut. I’ll be right behind you.”
Remy immediately turned on his heel, sprinting in the direction the emotions seemed to be coming from, and Toby almost tripped over his own feet following him. The empathy got stronger and stronger and stronger with every step, until it was even stronger than it usually was, and as his excitement further increased, so did Patton’s.
He rounded a corner, and immediately ran right into someone running at a similar speed, and they both tumbled to the ground with two loud thumps.
“Ah, fuck,” Remy groaned, closing his eyes and massaging the bridge of his nose as a jolt of pain shot down his leg.
“Oof,” The other boy winced.
His voice was like a bell, ringing through the air: suddenly the only sound that Remy could hear.
That was when Remy realised that Patton’s emotions were now equal to his own – mixing together in Remy’s soul until they were one and the same. It was almost like they were thinking and feeling as one, which was rather disorienting, to say the least.  
Patton... Patton was right in front of him.
Remy opened his eyes, immediately coming face-to-face with the most gorgeous person he had even seen – a wide-eyed and freckled boy, about a year younger than Remy, staring back at him with parted lips and an equally startled expression. He was wearing a blue and grey t-shirt, showing off his arms and the words Remy had written to him today, and all the constellations he’d doodled on his own skin. Now, Remy could see the stars that he’d been missing, and, in his opinion, they were even better than the ones in the night sky.
Patton.
Patton, Patton, Patton.
“Patton,” Remy breathed.
“Remy.”
Remy laughed, uncontrolled and loud and delighted, sitting up straight and taking Patton’s hand in his own, squeezing it. It was warm and soft, Remy never wanted to let go, and when Patton squeezed back, he felt... complete. Perfect. Heaven.
Patton smiled – like a shining sun, one that thankfully didn’t hurt to look at, as Remy couldn’t take his eyes off of it.
“Wow,” Remy laughed. “You’re... wow.”
“Wow,” Patton echoed.
People were probably staring at them – Toby included – but Remy couldn’t take his eyes off of Patton to check. Patton seemed to be doing similarly, his eyes slowly taking in every part of Remy’s body, before returning to his face, staring into his eyes.
Patton’s eyes were brown, like honey in the sunlight. Beautiful.
“It’s... it’s nice to finally meet you,” Patton said softly.
“Likewise.”
There was a beat.
“You are gorgeous,” Remy continued, the words coming out before he could stop himself. He almost regretted blurting it out, but then Patton’s face turned a particularly pretty shade of pink, and Remy immediately grinned.
Patton squeezed his hand. “You, too.”
“Oh, I know I’m hot, babe,” Remy said, making Patton giggle. “But you, you’re... you’re an angel. Like, damn, how the hell did I get so lucky? I must’ve done something really freaking amazing in a past life to have deserved you.”
“You’re even more of a flirt in person,” Patton smiled, a little teasingly.
Remy laughed. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I warned you.”
“You did,” Patton said, smiling fondly.
“Is it too soon to ask if I can kiss you?” Remy asked suddenly. His tone of voice was casual, like he was joking, but they both knew – Patton could probably sense – that he was serious.
Patton didn’t hesitate, answering quickly. “No. I mean, yes. I mean... no, it’s not too soon. Please?”
Remy didn’t waste any time, reaching forward, carefully cradling Patton’s face in his hand and kissing him gently. His lips were soft and warm and Remy never wanted to stop kissing him. Patton covered Remy’s hand with his own free one, kissing back a little clumsily, though it was without a doubt enthusiastic.
Then, he got a little too enthusiastic, and Remy tumbled backwards, pulling Patton along with him.
They broke apart, and after a moment of startled – slightly awkward – silence, they both started laughing loudly, and Patton climbed off of him. He finally stood up, holding out his hand and helping Remy up, too.
The pedestrians that had been watching them had mostly all moved on by now, leaving only Toby hovering awkwardly nearby. He had his phone out, trying to distract himself, give them some privacy, though he was undeniably still keeping an eye out. It wasn’t every day you saw a soulmate pair’s first meeting.  
Remy took Patton’s hands in his own, looking him over again and again and again.
An idea came to him – not a new one, one he’d thought about and talked about and dreamed and daydreamed about a million times – and he grinned in a way that he could feel made Patton’s heart skip a beat.
“Remember how I said I wanted to kiss every freckle?"
318 notes · View notes
tokoyamisstuff · 4 years
Text
Oneshot: Substance - Bucky x Reader
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Summary: After stumbling upon certain things on your boyfriends phone, your self-esteem drops below zero.
Warnings: Self-hatred, Angst, Fatshaming, kinda Self-Harm (like withdrawal, not eating enough and overly excessive sport), one or two Swear Words.
Words: ~2900
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A/N: Didn’t want to keep you guys waiting any longer, so this has been written in an hour without proof-reading. please have mercy with my soul
“Heya, sweetie-pie. Mind giving me the usual?”
There he was, 12 o’clock as usual. Bucky was leaning over the counter and staring at you with his piercing blue eyes.
He gave you a wink as he shoved the money over the counter, looking around the small but full diner. It was always that crowded at this time of the day.
“Come on, you doofus. You know it’s on me” you chuckled as you pressed the coins back in his hand, relishing at his warmth for a brief second before stepping back.
It has become a ritual to prepare his favourite on almost every single day, even though he claimed to love everything on your menu. His therapist once told him that a certain routine would help him adapt to society again, and he stuck to it pretty closely.
And visiting your restaurant was an important part of his day.
“Do you think we can spend the evening?” Your boyfriend was sipping on his coffee, eyes lighting up when you finally got him his piece of plum pie with whipped cream.
When you watched him eating it in almost one bite, you kind of admired him for being able to eat basically anything without gaining weight. But well, on the other hand, training and fighting were his daily bread, so it was no wonder those calories would be burned like it was nothing.
“Gosh, delicious as always” Bucky mumbled and you couldn’t surpress a quiet laugh at your dork while you were serving another customer. “And I mean you in that dress, not the food. Love your style.”
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You usually avoided to fuel his stupid way of flirting, no matter how flattered you felt anyway. So you simply changed the topic. “Dunno. Might get late. Today seems to be very profitable.”
It was just wonderful how understanding Bucky was. Well, he knew he was a piece of work as well. Why should he be mad if you were sucessfull anyway?
So he just shrugged with a wide grin as he handed you over the empty plate, saying “Well, then I’ll tidy up the flat until you’re done. Guess who’s gonna get a back rub when they’re back home?”
“Sounds like a Netflix and Cuddle evening?”
“Everything you want, doll.” He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek, knowing you weren’t all that comfortable with PDA - at least at work. “I won’t bother you any longer.”
“You’re never bothering me.” Smirking, you admired the way his muscles bulged through his sleeveless top. “Distracting is a far better word.”
He won’t comment on your statement, rather winking at you and mumbling something like “You just wait until later...” as he already rushed out of the entrance.
Six hours later you were finally able to end your twelve hour shift and close the restaurant almost on time - well...plus the few customers who came about five minutes before closure, and having to clean up the mess you’d always leave behind when cooking as quick as possible.
“I’m home, darlin’!” you cheered as you threw your bag into a corner and got rid of your shoes.
Seems like he was in the shower, at least he yelled something like ‘having something for you when he’s done’.
Well, if the surprise was something cute or nasty - you’d have no problem with either one.
“Hey, babe!” his voice called you out of the bathroom. “Can you look up when we made the reservation for cinema? I made a screenshot from the booking confirmation.”
He’d always ask for that kind of stuff in the weirdest situations. Probably because he knew he’d forget it otherwise.
“Alright.” His smartphone was placed on the nightstand, as usually. It was a miracle that he learned to use it that quickly, but on the other hand he’d always been very invested with new technology.
The two of you had no secrets. And even if: Taking each others cellphones wouldn’t really tell you something you didn’t already know about each other, so it had never been a no-go to use the others phone.
You sat down on the edge of the bed after throwing your sweat-soaked and stained clothes into the basket, wishing Bucky would hurry up so you could clean up and enjoy some hot water.
Scrolling through his picture folder, you hummed a happy little song, already wondring what you’d do on your day off tomorrow.
James is still pretty awkward in todays society, but hell he knew how to treat a woman. And dates were his speciality.
“I can’t fi-” Your words turned into a loud gasp as you saw the preview image of a seemingly naked woman. Shocked, even though you felt bad for prying instead of trusting your partner, you klicked on it to see the whole picture.
It was exactly what you thought it was. That sort of picture drunk elderly men would send each other in Whatsapp Groups.
A beautiful woman, only wearing a thong and presenting it in a - let’s call it ‘seductive’ pose.
And the worst of all was the headline, floating above the models face:
���The Perfect Woman”
This was not the only pic of some sort - you found a dozen of it, videos as well.
Disgusting was the only thing that came to your mind.
Not the woman, though. You were not one to slut-shame anyway.
But a feeling of disgust came up when you layed down the phone and went to the mirror, watching yourself closely. And for the first time, you were not satisfied with what you were seeing.
Sure, you’ve always been kind of chubby. But up until now you’ve never doubtet your beauty.
Curves were always something beautiful to you, even though you had to admit that some days, you were asking yourself why you had to be the only one of your friends who had that hard cellulite and stretch marks.
Maybe if you’d already have kids or were older, you’d be fine with it, but...
On the other hand, your friends would admire the fact that you had bigger breasts and a ‘peach ass’, as they’d call it.
Your mother used to call it ‘atomar boobs’ and ‘birth-enthusiastic hips’, always making you laugh about how self-ironic she was. But on the inside you knew how much she was struggling as well.
There were so many forms of beauty, and you loved every single one of it - including your own. But now..
“Ugly” you told yourself again and again, while trying to find a suitable pose that didn’t make you look like a small, wobbly piece of fat.
Did the opinion of a man really matter more to you than your own? Now you also felt kind of pathetic.
Actually, you were just hurt. Of him not being honest, and obviously searching for something...you didn’t want to say ‘better’, but rather ‘different’ than you.
As former Winter Soldier, he might not be that popular, but his looks sure did the trick anyway. So why not searching for a thin woman if he loves them so much?
Or does he already know them? What if those were not mere pictures, but woman he actually contacted?
The thought alone made you tear up.
You’ve tried. Your whole life you did and he knew that.
It’s a problem you’ve been struggling for your whole youth, after all.
No matter how much sport or diets you tried out, your body just wouldn’t change. Even after you’ve got diagnosed with hypothyreosis, the medication would only do so much as prevent further weight gain.
Things got a lot easier when you were grown up, and the bullies would decrease.
You learned to love yourself, and realized that many people were into exactly your kind of body-type. After finding your own style and way of living, things became so much easier and you could finally be yourself.
“Heya, there” a familiar voice snickered behind your back, “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”
The only reaction Bucky would gain was a pained groan, yet you didn’t dare to make a scene just yet. You wanted him to take the hints and be honest with you, that was what you had decided.
“Didn’t find the picture. Go look yourself.”
With that said, you’d walk straight past him and towards the bathroom. It took you quite a while to cry to your hearts extend, sobs being deafened by the pattering sounds of the shower.
You wrapped a towel around yourself, but when you saw your reflection again as you put on some lotion, you decided to wear the bathrobe.
No matter how you moved, you felt like some fat would always wiggle or roll up somehow - and Bucky felt your discomfort as soon as you greeted him with a twisted face.
“C’mon here, babydoll. We can talk.” He patted the spot right next to him on the bed, and goddamn it was just too unfair how he was posing there on the mattress, looking like a fucking adonis compared to you.
The very second you stiffly layed down next to him, you felt his hand slip under your bathrobe and squeeze your thigh, making you gasp.
“Maybe I can cheer you up otherwise before we talk...” he breathed into your ear, adding a bittersweet “I missed you.”
“Bucky, please. I’m tired.” Perfect. You managed to get that sentence out without your voice cracking once. Now you just needd to turn around and wrap yourself in your comforter before he’d see the tears in your eyes.
You didn’t want him - or anyone else - to touch you ever again.
“O-okay...” James stuttered, already reaching out his hand to touch your shoulder. But in the end, he retreated it, realizing you needed some time for yourself. “Imma be at the sofa if you need me.”
“Or tell me what the fuck is wrong all of a sudden...” He kept himself from saying that.
The following days were the hardest ones yet to come - for both of you.
It all started with you declining all offers from friends to go swimming or visiting some food-places, slowly but steadily withdrawing you from the happy, active life you’ve built up out of anger and shame.
You had grown quite distant as time passed, at first finding any kind of excuse for intimacy, and afterwards not even bearing any kind of physical contact. Not to speak of simple and carefree talking...
The air had become strained around the two of you, but Bucky was too afraid to ask you what was wrong.
Instead of letting off some steam through work as always, you took a few weeks off. It wasn’t like you needed the money anyway, looking at how successfull your work was.
Your restaurant, even though being more of a small diner, had been on the top of New Yorks most popular ones for years. And you were damn proud of it.
Bucky would always say you’re the only one who cooks just like home, and meanwhile you knew all of his favourite dishes.
An unconscious smile ghosted your lips when you thought back to the day where Bucky would go all Winter Soldier on a dude that made fun of you for being “a wandering cliché: a fat woman running a kitchen”. Ouch.
You didn’t go on vacation those days - there was different work to do.
Actually, you liked sports. For fun, that is. Like going to swim with your friends, or going for a walk. Sometimes visiting the gym, even. To you, it was more part of a healthy lifestyle instead of a competition for appreciation.
But now, things were different. You tried to built up your confidence again through secretly visiting the Avengers training rooms - yet to no avail.
Steve kindly offered you help with any certain training, but you declined. This was something you wanted to achieve yourself.
As if that would change anything about your feeling of betrayal...
“Fuck!” you exclaimed after almost falling off the treadmill, having to use the emergency turn-off. Even though many people assumed it, you weren’t really unfit. But those past days, you’ve just overloaded yourself through excessive training and eating almost nothing.
You kneeled down, desperately trying to catch your breath. Looking down, you saw your bruised knuckles from punching the bag earlier and thinking of that damn beautiful woman on Buckys cellphone.
If only you would have the courage to talk this through with him...but you were afraid of the outcome. Of the truth.
Knowing you were all alone on the floor, you finally gave in to your emotions, huddling to a fetal curl and starting to sob over your deadlocked situation.
“Y/N?”
Dear god no - it was Bucky. What was he doing here? It was not his usual training time!
On the other hand: What else did he have to do in his free-time, now that the other Avengers are on a mission and his girlfriend is avoiding him at all costs?
Actually, he wanted to let off some steam as well. But seeing you like this swung his mood in an instant, and he aided you immediately.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?!” There was genuine compassion in his voice, sorrow even. As if it was his fault.
He was kneeling right next to you, and for the first time in two weeks, you wouldn’t flinch at his touch. “Let me help you...”
“You don’t need to play anymore, James” you whimpered, slapping his hand away. “Just get this over with.”
Now you’ve got him mad. “What the fuck did I do wrong to deserve this, Y/N?!” he screamed and his metal fist would meet the floor, cracking it broken.
“I know damn well I’m far from the perfect boyfriend...” Bucky began to sniffle, still clenching and unclenching his fists. “But I thought you’d love me as I am.”
“You’re one to talk.” Fuck it, now that you seemingly screwed up anyway you could talk freely. “I’ve seen the photos, Bucky. Of the perfect woman. Many of them. Seems like you prefer something not remotely close to me.”
For a while, there was only silence.
Bucky dug his face deep into his palms, as if he wanted to disappear in them - or simply to facepalm in a pretty weird way.
“Doll, is that what all this is about?”
His reaction made you feel kinda strange. “Y-yeah.” Did you overreact?
“You know I don’t possibly know her. Don’t care about her or her body either.” He sat there, cross-legged and with a face as dark as your heart had been those past weeks.
“Then why do you keep a ton of photos of naked models on your phone?!” You jumped onto him, effectively knocking him over and pinning him on the floor. Out of a whim, you wanted to run away, but he trapped you in his hold.
“Gosh, why can’t you talk to me for once?” It almost sounded like he found it funny. “You’re usually one to be upfront about everything.”
A sole tear escaped every eye, but Bucky would catch them with his thumb.
“Sam sent them to me. We have that Whatsapp-Group, and he’s simply that single, horny dude that finds that kind of stuff funny. You know I never delete anything. I have over 5000+ photos on that shit phone.”
You were stunned, looking at him in disbelief. “I’m sorry, doll. I should’ve know you’d stumble across them eventually. But you were always so confident and strong, the thought of it bothering you never crossed my mind.”
“Y-you-” Gosh, what a fucking idiot you were. “You’re not at fault, Buck! I’m so sorry! I feel so stupid right now.”
“And I thought you wanted to leave me...” he murmured, mainly to himself.
“Wha- how could I ever?! You’re the love of my life! Why else do you think your opinion matters this much to me? Look where we are right now!”
“And you know that the beauty-standarts of the 40s are exactly what you look like, right?”
The situation changed so drastically, it left both of you in boisterous laughter.
When you finally catched your breath, holding your thummy at how much you laughed, Bucky would not give you a break - rather cupping your cheeks and pulling your lips onto his.
“Look” he breathed out calmly, his cheek barely brushing yours. “I feel stupid for even saying this, but: My girl doesn’t have to be a model. Beauty is a concept, dear. Everyone pictures something else when they think of it. And I think of you.”
You had already snuggled up onto his chest as he swiftly picked you up, your ear able to sense his heartbeat. Absentmindedly running your hand over his prosthetic one, you realized that you were not the only one who was self-conscious about their appearance.
But just like you never doubted the true beauty of your lover, neither did he.
“Y/N...You’re strong and smart and kind. No one had ever touched my heart the way you did. That’s all that counts.”
_______
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