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elianamarie-blog · 4 years

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The Things You Give Pt 18

Steven Hyde x Reader

A/N: The part is finally here! THE PARENTS FIND OUT. I hope you enjoy this part! Geez, I can’t believe we’re already 18 parts in! And I’m not even done lol with all this information I want to put in the story, there maybe a bit more. Let me know what you all think! By the way, CONGRATULATIONS TO WILMER VALDERAMA FOR THR BIRTH OF HIS DAUGHTER! What a beautiful baby!!

Kitty sat there, staring at her daughter with an unreadable expression. Was she angry? Disappointed? Murderous? Y/n couldn’t bear to make eye contact with her, so she kept her gaze down.

“So,” Kitty said, clearing her throat. “Pregnant, huh?”

Y/n nodded, flitting her eyes to Kitty who was calmly messing with her ring.

“How far along are you?”

“Bout a month.”

“And does Steven know?”

“Yes, he—wait, what?” This time Y/n snapped her gaze to Kitty who was staring at her down with a stoic expression.

“I said does Steven know?” Kitty repeated and placed her fist underneath her chin. “Does he know that he is the father?”

All Y/n could do was stare at her mother in disbelief as her brain suddenly stopped working. The gears in her head froze as she felt her hands go numb. “What—how—uh, when did you—why would you—wait, what? Steven’s not the father.”

“Oh, no need to get all fussy and lie to me,” Kitty said and chuckled and got up to start a pot of tea. “I’ve known for weeks.”

“You what?” Y/n asked in complete disbelief. “How did you find out?!”

“Oh, please, I’m not stupid. You kids are terrible at keeping secrets.” She grabbed two mugs and placed two teabags in them, then reached up to get the honey. “It’s obvious that you two have gotten much closer in the recent months and besides—I’ve seen you two lay a smooch on each other in a time or two.”

“Oh, God,” Y/n mumbled, covering her hot and flushed face. “Well, if you knew, why didn’t you say anything?!”

“Because I wanted you to come to me yourself,” Kitty answered as if it was obvious and poured the hot water into the mugs. “You’re eighteen now. You make that decision to date whoever you want.”

Kitty set the mugs down on the table in front of them.

“If that’s true then why were you telling me that I shouldn’t and can’t date him?”

“Because of your father,” she responded and took a sip of her tea. “You know how he is.”

“Oh, God, does he know?”

“Oh, heavens no,” Kitty responded and waved her hand. “If he does, he’s in denial.”

“He’s going to kill us,” Y/n groaned and covered her eyes with her hand that wasn’t holding the mug.

“Well, we need to find a way to ease into it,” Kitty said. “The last thing we want is to give him another heart attack. Because let’s be honest, this one will kill him.”

“So, what do you suggest?”

“Well, we could liquor him up,” she responded. “That way, he’ll be mad, but not enough to kill him.”

“Wow, Mom. It sounds like you’ve done this before.”

“Eh, maybe once or twice,” Kitty said, waving her hand and took a sip of her tea.

They sat in silence for a moment. “Are you mad?”

Kitty inhaled deeply and looked at Y/n. “A little. More so that you didn’t tell me and lied to me. Multiple times.”

Y/n looked down at her tea in shame. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

“Do you and Steven even have a plan?”

Y/n nodded, debating on telling her about the engagement. Like a band-aid. “Yes. He’s going to go work with his dad in Milwaukee and I’m going to go back to school while looking for an apartment. And, uh,” she took a deep breath, her voice wavering. Get ready to see some chairs fly. “We’re….going to get…married.”

Kitty sat there in stunned silence, blinking at Y/n. The growing silence between them made Y/n more nervous as she was receiving daggers from her mother’s blazed eyes.

“Yep,” Y/n said shortly after a minute of no talking. “A grandchild and a son-in-law. Big day for you.”

“You’re WHAT!” Kitty shouted, shooting up from her seat.

Y/n jumped up and held her hands out at her menopausal mother. “I’m sorry! We just thought that it would be better for you and Daddy because I’m sure you guys don’t want a screaming baby around and we—”

“You’re going to leave me?!”

Y/n knitted her eyebrows together and brought her hands down. “What?”

“My baby is having a baby and getting married and you’re going to leave me?!”

“Uh, okay, I’m sorry, but I’m really confused,” Y/n said calmly and stood up straight. “I thought you’d want me and Steven to move out.”

“Well, not right now!” she yelled. “I’ve always wanted to plan my children’s wedding. When I saw what path Laurie was going down, I thought to hell with that I’m never going to plan her wedding, and Eric…well you know what happened! But now you’re getting married and I need to plan yours! Sure, I still want to put my foot up your ass, but I need to do this!”

Y/n stood there in confusion and shock. Well, this went better than expected. “Really, Mom? You’re sure?”

“Yes, you dumbass!” Kitty shouted and wrapped her arms around Y/n’s shoulders.

“Wow, uhm, you’re taking this a lot better than I thought you would,” Y/n said, wrapping hesitant arounds around her petite mother.

“Don’t be so sure,” she replied. “I’m still angry that you lied to me and didn’t tell me and for Steven going behind our backs instead of just coming to us, but we will talk later. For now, we need to focus on telling your father so that we can start planning and getting ready for everything.”

“When should we tell him?”

“Well, tomorrow night I’ll be throwing a small dinner party for couples. So, you, Steven, and Donna and Eric will be there. And Bob is coming with a date.”

“You really think telling Dad while we’re having a party, which he hates, is a good idea? He’s not afraid to have witnesses while he murders me, you know that right?”

“Oh, honey, don’t be so dramatic. That’s where we’re going to get him liquored up,” Kitty laughed and sat back down, leaving Y/n utterly confused still.

--Time Skip—

“So, she knew this whole time?” Steven asked later that night, as they laid in his bed, their naked bodies covered by the blanket.

“Yep. Apparently, we weren’t being as secretive as we should’ve been,” Y/n commented.

“And she took the news well?” He felt genuinely confused. “So, I’m not getting…kicked out?”

“No, but she definitely wants to put her foot up our asses.”

He raised his eyebrows. “She said that?”

“Word for word.”

Steven threw his head back laughing. “Man, I wish I would’ve heard that.”

“Yeah, but here’s the kicker. I think she was madder that I told her that we would be moving out.”

He stopped laughing and looked at her confused. “How?”

She shrugged. “Beats me. She said something about how she’s never going to be able to plan Laurie’s wedding because she’s, well, Laurie, so she really wants to plan ours.”

Hyde chuckled. “That’s funny.”

Y/n lifted the corner of her mouth. “Which part?”

“Well both. She just called Laurie a whore and that she thinks we will have a real wedding.”

Y/n sat up and looked at him. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well, obviously Laurie gets around quite a bit—”

“No, no, not that,” she said. “About the wedding.”

“Oh, well,” Hyde said and sat up too. “You didn’t think we were going to have a real wedding, did you?”

“Uh, yeah I did,” she replied. “That’s why I said wedding. It’s not like I’m saying let’s have a big one or anything, but something. What were you thinking?”

“Well, just, uh,” he said nervously. “Just city hall and then maybe have a dinner.”

“That’s it?” she asked. “That’s how you want to spend our big day?”

“Well, to be fair we have an even bigger one coming,” he responded, motioning towards her stomach.

“Okay, yes, we’re having a baby but also us getting married is also pretty big.”

“ Y/n, what is the big deal? We’re going to be spending a lot of time and money for what? A few hours of partying?”

“A few hours of partying? Are you kidding me?”

“What? It’s true.”

“A wedding is the unification of us becoming one and celebrating our love! To promise one another that we will always be there and love each other. Doesn’t that mean something to you?” She got out of the bed and started putting her clothes back on.

“Why do we need to promise each other in front of people when it’s our marriage? I’m promising you, not them.”

“It’s still a celebration, Steven.”

“Yeah, maybe back in the olden times when marriage was used as transactions and not for anything more. I mean, come on, be happy that I’m even marrying you!” He started to put his pants back on when he noticed the shift in the room.

“What?” Y/n asked sharply.

Hyde’s eyes grew a fraction bigger. “No, no! That’s not what I meant!”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I just meant that before I probably wouldn’t have even considered marriage even if I did get you pregnant.” He mentally cringed, knowing he just made the situation worse.

“Wow,” was all she said before she walked out the room.

“No, wait Y/n!” he stumbled as he fumbled to put his pants back on. “I didn’t mean it that way!”

“Just leave me alone, Steven!” she shrieked as she stomped up the stairs.

He groaned. “Great.”

--Time Skip—

“Y/n, honey can you go to the store for me and pick some things up for the party tonight?” Kitty asked while she gave Y/n her breakfast plate.

“We’re having a party?” Eric asked. Everyone, excluding Red was there. Fez and Jackie sat at the counter, Kelso and Donna at the table.

“Yes, we are. All couples are invited.”

“Wait, why wasn’t I invited? Kelso asked.

“Well, honey, you need a date,” Kitty said. “Do you have a date?”

“Yeah, Brooke.

“That would be great! Then I can ask her questions about when she was pregnant,” Y/n said.

“Ohhh, honey, let’s not say that out loud,” Kitty replied, patting Y/n’s shoulder. “Your father could walk in any minute.”

“Guess I can come now,” Kelso beamed.

“Yeah, I guess you can,” Kitty said and sat down next to Y/n.

“Can I come too Miss Kitty?” Fez asked. “If I bring a date that is.”

“Of course, dear,” Kitty beamed and clapped excitedly. “I’m so excited!”

“Uh,” Hyde said and raised his hand. “Do I have to come?”

“Yes,” Kitty and Y/n said in unison sternly.

“And wear a tie,” Y/n said.

“I don’t want to,” he responded stubbornly.

“Well, you’re gonna,” she snapped.

He looked at Kitty and Y/n and slumped his shoulders. “Fine. But, Mrs. Forman, can I speak to you privately in the living room, please?”

“For what?”

“I just need to speak to you.”

She looked to Y/n who shrugged her shoulders. Kitty and Steven stood up and made their way into the living room.

“What do you want to talk about, Steven?” Kitty asked him and clasped her hands together in front of her.

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry,” he began and scratched his neck. “I’m not very good at apologizing and stuff, but I’ve always looked at you as a mom, especially because you took me in and took care of me as if I was your own and I owe you an apology. I understand if you’re angry with me and you have every right to be. I disrespected you and Red by going behind your back with Y/n and lying to you and I deeply regret that, but I need you to know that I don’t regret Y/n. I truly do care about her and…I do love her. I know this was probably a shock for you, but I promise to do whatever I can to take care of her. I’m not sure if Y/n told you, but I took a job with my dad at his company.

“I just want you to know that even though you may not think I’m the right person for your daughter, I promise you I am. I know I’m not perfect, but I think I’m good enough for her and she’s definitely more than enough for me.”

Kitty looked at her foster son with blurry eyes. “Oh, Steven,” she whimpered and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He gratefully accepted her embrace. “You’re such a good boy. Thank you. I love you so much.” She pulled away and looked at him. “Yes, I am a little angry about the situation and trust me, we will be having a talk later, but please don’t worry about me. It’s Red we need to worry about.”

“I’ll have to run before he can put his foot in my ass,” he replied.

“Oh, I won’t let that happen,” she said and patted his arm.

“Thank you, Mrs. Forman.”

She smiled at him before they went back into the kitchen.

--Time Skip—

“For the last time, I told you I don’t want a freakin’ wedding!” Steven raised his voice at Y/n.

“Well, I do, dammit!” Y/n shouted back.

“What’s the point? We can still celebrate with everyone after we sign the piece of paper!”

“I’m not asking for anything big here, Steven!” she growled. “I’m asking for a simple wedding. Why is that so much to ask?”

“Because it cost a lot!”

“Alright let the moth out of your wallet you cheap ass,” Y/n snapped. “We’re going to be spending more on this baby and any other future children we may have than a wedding. The wedding doesn’t even have to be big! It could just be all of us and my grandparents. Why are you being so difficult about this?”

“Because I don’t want a wedding!”

“Uhm,” Eric called out awkwardly from the couch. “Some of us are trying to watch TV here. Care to take it outside?”

“No!” the couple said in unison.

“Y/n listen to me,” Jackie said and stood up. “Getting Steven to even marry anybody is a miracle. Take it from me.”

“Yeah, he told me that last night,” Y/n spit.

“You said that to her? BURN!” Kelso shouted, but then instantly cowered when Y/n and Hyde threw daggers at him.

Y/n rolled her eyes and turned back to Steven. “I want us to have pictures to remember this day. So, we’ll need a photographer.”

“If you need a photographer to remember something like this, then we have bigger problems,” Hyde deadpanned.

Y/n groaned in frustration. “God, you’re impossible! Come on, just something from you.”

Hyde shook his head. “No. And that’s final.”

“Fine,” she huffed. “But you get to tell my mom why she won’t plan our wedding.” She flipped her hair and sat down on the couch, crossing her arms. “And by the way, you’re going to be the one to deal with her wrath. Not me.”

Steven titled his back and looked up at the ceiling, groaning. “Fine! We’ll have a wedding, but it won’t be big. Just us, no extra relatives, we’ll have it in the backyard, beer, and spaghetti, and a small cake. No dressing up, nothing.”

“Or,” Y/n said coyly and sauntered back up to him. “It’s just us and my grandparents, somewhere outdoors with Pastor Dave, a decent sized cake, some dressing up, and 1 main plate of food with 2 sides. Beer and champagne.”

He looked down at her, trying so hard to be mad, but her puppy dog eyes made him melt. “Fine.”

She smiled widely for him. “Okay!” She gave him a quick peck and sat back down on the couch.

“Aweeee,” the gang cooed.

“Shut it!” Hyde barked.

“Who’s going to be your maid of honor?” Jackie pushed. “I’m not saying it should be me, but it should be me.”

“Yeah, and who is going to be your best man?” Kelso asked and pointed at himself. “Me,” he whispered.

“Hang on, guys,” Donna said. “Let’s not put too much pressure on them. It’s their wedding. Let them decide who.”

Y/n gave her an appreciative smile. “Thank you, Donna.”

“Oh, she’s just sucking up to you so you’d pick her!” Jackie cried out. “ Y/n, if you pick me, I’m rich, so I can give you the bachelorette party of your dreams. I can help with the wedding too.”

Y/n puckered her lips and looked up, thinking. “That does sound nice.”

“What, no! That’s crap,” Donna exclaimed. “I’ve been there for her this whole time, I think I deserve to be maid of honor.”

“Oh, what have you brought to the table, Big Foot?” Jackie spit.

“Listen, here Midget, I was the first person who knew about her and Hyde, the first to know about the pregnancy, AND kept it a secret until she was ready to tell the others. She trusts me more. Being rich doesn’t make you a better friend than me.”

Jackie gasped theatrically. “You take that back!”

Donna smirked at her. “No.”

“Bitch!”

“Skank!”

“GIRL FIGHT!” Kelso hollered. “Eric, quick, get a pool of mud and we can watch them fight for honor.”

“Alright, alright, alright, stop. Both of you,” Y/n cut in, trying to prevent them from ripping at each other. “I still have Laurie to think about.”

Donna and Jackie scoffed and rolled their eyes at her.

“You really want the queen of whores to be your maid of honor?” Hyde asked her.

Y/n thought about it for a minute. “No, not really. But she’s still an option.”

“Okay, well, while you ladies figure out your issue, we have a bigger one at hand,” Fez said and down on the coffee, facing Hyde who was now sitting in his chair. “Who’s going to be the best man? Me.”

“Nuh uh, I wanna be!” Kelso argued.

“Hey, if anybody deserves to be best man, it should be me,” Eric piped up. “I think it’s already a given why I deserve this role.”

“Why you deserve it?” Hyde repeated. “This isn’t a play, man.”

“Come on, man. I made you the godfather of my daughter,” Kelso said, giving him the puppy eyes.

“Or, how about the one who’s related to the bride? And who gave him a home when he became an orphan?” Eric said.

“Don’t pull that crap on me, Forman,” Hyde said, making a face at him. “You also forget how you reacted and tried to kick me out.”

“I was just preparing you for what’s going to happen with Red,” Eric defended, albeit rather weakly.

“Well, we got to figure something out,” Jackie said and stood, adjusting her shirt. “Why don’t we pull straws?”

“Or how bout we race?” Fez said. “I can outrun all of you sons of bitches.” He beamed with pride.

“No, we’re not going to do any of that,” Y/n said. “Let me and Steven decide, okay?”

“Good ‘cause I’m not running,” Jackie said. “Jackie Burkhart doesn’t sweat.”

“Or how ‘bout we go with the two most good looking people in this room?” Kelso suggested. “So, me and Jackie.”

Jackie nodded. “I second that!”

“NO,” Hyde and Y/n said in unison.

Kelso and Jackie huffed and sat down on the couch and chair, pouting.

“Please, guys, let us get through tonight and then we’ll decide,” Y/n begged. “Right now we just want to get through the night alive. My dad is going to tear us to shreds.”

“Oh, why wouldn’t he?” Eric asked sarcastically. “Not only are you secretly dating the orphan boy living in his house, you’re having his baby and getting married.”

“Actually, it wasn’t so secretive,” Y/n mentioned. “Mom’s known for weeks.”

“What? How?!” Eric asked.

“I don’t know, but she’s not as naïve as I thought.”

“Oh, crap,” Eric said wide eyed. “That means she probably found my magazines!”

“What magazines?” Donna asked.

“Uh,” Eric stuttered while Y/n smirked at her dumbass twin. “S-some good ol’ fashioned…classy magazines.”

“Nice,” Y/n said, thoroughly amused.

“Uh huh, sure,” Donna said, but let it go.

“So, are you guys nervous about telling Mr. Red?” Fez asked.

“Oh, I’m just short of completely and utterly terrified,” Y/n responded.

“Yeah, what she said,” Hyde responded and gestured for Y/n to sit in his lap. “But, this is something we have to do. We messed up and now we have to make up for it.”

“Or make a run for it,” Fez said, giggling. “See what I did there?”

Y/n chuckled lightly, loving his sweet and innocent sense of humor. “You’re not wrong. My dad is a very scary man.”

“But you’re his little girl. I don’t think he’s going murder you,” Eric said. “It’s clear that you’re the favorite.”

“Even if that were true, you know who is the one who’s going to get murdered,” Jackie said and pointed at Steven. “You. You better get your running shoes on now.”

“Ha ha very funny. Listen, I think once he calms down and realizes that being blinded by rage isn’t going to change anything, he’ll come around,” Steven said.

Everyone looked at him as if he had grown a third head.

“Are you just now meeting my dad?” Eric asked.

“All I’m saying is that there isn’t much he can do at this point,” Hyde defended. “Mrs. Forman will be there.”

“Yeah, to tell you to run,” Eric said.

“He’s right, though,” Donna said. “Besides getting scary and pink, nothing’s going to change.”

“What do you expect him to do though?” Eric asked. “Sit there and tell you congratulations?”

Y/n shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Yeah,” her twin scoffed. “After he cheers and tosses his poms poms into the air.”

The group fell silent as the image of Red fell into their heads.

“You’re pregnant?” Red asked as the teens started trembling in their seats.

“Now, Daddy, please let me explain—” Y/n began before Red jumped up from his seat.

“That’s great!” he boasted with a broad smile and somehow brought out two poms poms from behind him. “Let’s cheer!”

He started hopping up and down, shouting, “P-R-E-G-N-A-N-T!”

“What’s happening?” Hyde asked, staring at Eric who continued to play the scene out for them.

“Who’s going to be a grandpa?” Red cheered. “Me! G-R-A-N-D-P-A! WhooOOooOO!”

He started jumping up and down like a teenage girl.

“That was unpleasant,” Y/n commented once Eric was finished.

“You got the cheer wrong,” Jackie commented.

“What?” Eric asked, directing his attention to her.

“Yeah, you’re supposed to go—”

“I don’t care,” he cut her off lazily.

The gang chuckled before Y/n looked down at her watch. “The party is in an hour. Honey, you need to get ready.”

“It only takes me two minutes to get ready,” Steven argued.

“You still need to figure out what you’re going to wear.”

“I’m wearing this,” he said and gestured towards his current outfit.

Y/n hummed unamused. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re really not.”

“ Y/n, I’m wearing this and that’s final.”

“Or, you can wear a tie and still have sex tonight.”

Eric rolled his eyes as he forced that mental image out of his head.

Hyde grunted. “Fine.”

He got up and followed Y/n into his room to pick out the outfit he would be wearing.

“Well, I better go pick up Brooke before she gets mad at me again,” Kelso said begrudgingly. “Man, you forget a woman one time at the store and suddenly you’re ‘irresponsible’ and ‘immature.’ You make one small mistake and she never lets you live it down!” Michael rolled his eyes as he walked out the door.

“And I better go pick up Nina,” Fez said. “She’s super foxy and the best part, I get to see her everyday! It really pays off to be dating your boss.”

“You’re dating your boss?” Eric asked.

“Yeah you don’t want to date anyone within the workplace,” Donna said. “This spells disaster.”

“Yeah, but she’s so spicy,” Fez said.

“See and I don’t care. So, I’m just going to go home,” Jackie said and stood by Fez.

“You’re just mad because you’re not going to this party,” Donna stated.

“Yeah! I just had to be the one without a boyfriend and to add salt to the wound, I won’t be there when Mr. Forman finds out.”

“Finds out about what?” Red asked as he came down the stairs.

Fez’s eyes widened. “Bye,” he squeaked and fumbled for the door and whipped it open, running for the hills, leaving Jackie behind.

“Is that kid on dope? Because if he is, I don’t want him in my house” Red asked before turning towards the washer and dryer. “I’m looking for my blue shirt. Your mother is insistent I wear it tonight. I’d rather be back in Korea than go to this damn thing.”

“Yeah, that’s a real kicker, there, DAD,” Eric shouted dramatically, hoping to have Y/n hear and for the love of God to NOT come out of Hyde’s room.

Red gave Eric a look. “Son, are you on dope too?”

Eric laughed uncomfortably. “No, no, not at all, DAD.”

“Yeah, MR. FORMAN. Nothing going on here,” Donna said and gave him a fake smile.

Red shook his head in confusion and pulled his shirt out of the dryer. “Damn teenagers,” he mumbled and sulked back upstairs.

Once he was out of earshot, Eric and Donna huffed and leaned into the couch while Jackie continued to stay by the door. “You know, maybe it’s good that I won’t be here. I don’t want to be here to help clean up the blood. See ya!”

“Yeah,” Eric and Donna said lazily as Jackie walked out the door.

“That was a close one,” Donna said. “After tonight, this will all be over.”

Eric rubbed his face. “God, I hope so.”

“Was that Dad?” Y/n asked, coming out of Steven’s room with him trailing behind her.

“Yeah, it was. He’s gone now,” Eric replied.

“Thanks, you guys. You have no idea how much we appreciate that,” Y/n said. “I promise tonight will be the last. Once Red knows then it will hopefully be over.”

“Or the start of a blood bath,” Donna snickered.

“Real funny,” Y/n said and headed towards the stairs. “I’m going to go change. I’ll see you guys in a few minutes.”

“I’ll go with you. Can I borrow a shirt?” Donna said, joining Y/n on the stairs.

“Yeah, sure. Which one are you thinking?”

“Well, I was thinking…”

Their conversation drifted off as the guys sat on the couch. Eric noticed Hyde wearing a nice shirt and a tie with a pair of black jeans.

“Wow, Hyde, I didn’t know you even owned a pair of black jeans,” Eric said and batted his eyes. “You look so handsome!” Before he could keep going, a pillow was thrown in his face to muffle his taunting.

—Time Skip—

“Alright, everybody!” Kitty said excitedly as she came through the door into the living room. She set down a plate of hors d'oeuvres on the table. “Dinner will be ready in about thirty minutes.”

She looked around the room to see Y/n and Steven, Eric and Donna, Kelso and Brooke, Bob and his date, Joanne, but no Laurie or Fez. “Where’s Fez?”

“He went to go pick up his date,” Y/n responded. “He’ll be here soon.”

“Oh, okay. Sounds good. Well, you look very pretty tonight, Y/n ,” Kitty said, gesturing towards her dress.

Y/n wore a maroon colored, high low dress that was decorated with orange, white, and blue floral print with long and flowing sleeves. She wore knee high brown boots to match with the dress. Her long hair was flat ironed down her waist as she sported hoop earrings.

“Oh, thank you, Mom,” she said and smoothed out her dress. “You look pretty too.” Kitty wore a nice red dress with short sleeves and a sweet heart neckline. “Donna, Joann, and Brooke look very pretty too.”

Donna and Joann smiled at Y/n who sported normal flowered bell bottoms and a plain and elegant baby pink top. While Brooke, wore simple, yet stylish, emerald green maxi dress with a white dress cardigan and strappy black heels.

“I told you, you looked pretty,” Bob said to Joanne who smiled at him.

“You think I look pretty?” Brooke beamed, feeling relieved. “Thank you so much. Ever since I had Betsy, it’s been hard to go out, let alone dress up.”

Kelso snorted. “I know.”

Brooke glared at him before turning her attention away from him with a hurt expression.

“Steven, would you mind?” Y/n asked.

“It’ll be my pleasure,” he responded before connecting his fist to Kelso’s shoulder.

“Ow!” Kelso shouted, holding his shoulder. “The hell, man?”

“You don’t say that to the woman who just had your baby, you moron!” Y/n scorned. “Brooke looks lovely and you should definitely acknowledge that, you dillhole.”

“I did!”

“I believe your exact words were, ‘Wow, you look hot. Wanna do it?’” Brooke said, imitating Kelso.

“But you do!” he defended.

“Alright, kids,” Kitty said as she handed Red an hors d'oeuvre.

“Hey, if this is a couple’s dinner, then why is Y/n and Steven here?” Bob asked.

Y/n’s heart caught in her throat and Hyde shifted uncomfortably.

“Well, we just wanted to come,” Y/n lied.

“Did ya now?” Red asked suspiciously. “If that’s the case, then why is Steven here?”

“Uh, you know,” Hyde responded nervously and cleared his throat. “Free food.”

“Uh huh,” Red responded unconvinced.

“I asked them to come,” Kitty said, stepping in. “I—uh—”

Laurie walked into the room, unsuspecting of her mother flying over to her.

“I also invited Laurie!” she said, gripping her oldest daughter’s arm and dragging her to the couch.

“What? No, you didn’t—”

“Sshh, shut up, I did and you get five bucks out of this,” Kitty murmured in her ear as Laurie smiled, quickly accepting and sat down on the floor next to the table.

“Hellooooo! Me and Nina are here!” Fez called in, stumbling in through the door. “Please, meet my lovely and hot date, Nina.”

“Fez,” the short haired girl blushed and turned to the group. “Hi!”

“Fez, are you drunk?” Hyde asked.

“I had to pregame before I came!” he announced.

“Fez, you realize you’re not supposed to get drunk when you pregame,” Y/n said. “Only buzzed.”

“And how would you know that?” Red asked.

“Public school. Everybody knows that,” Y/n lied. Sort of.

“Okay, well, let’s just get this party started so I can go to bed,” Red said begrudgingly.

—Time Skip—

Later on that evening, when everyone had finished eating and was now enjoying dessert, Fez was enjoying his third glass of kahlua. Kitty had allowed the kids to have small glass of it, but Fez was finishing off Hyde’s and going for Y/n’s.

“Y/n, do you not like your drink?” Red asked.

“Kind of. It’s a little too sweet,” she lied and felt her heart drop. She hated lying to her dad. He trusted her so much. Now, he was going to lose any ounce of pride he had in her. She turned to Kitty, wanting now more than ever to get this over with. “Hey Mom, I think it’s time.”

“No. Not right now,” Kitty shook her head vigorously who was cleaning up the dessert plates. “He hasn’t had enough yet.”

“Time for what?” Red asked.

The mother and daughter ignored him.

“I have to tell him.” Y/n stood from the couch and faced Kitty. “I can’t hold it in anymore.”

“ Y/n, don’t,” Kitty warned, pleading her.

“Tell. Me. What?” Red asked, growing impatient.

“Wouldn’t it be better to just say it and get it over with?”

“Y/n, stop,” Steven piped up, eyeing Red who was now standing behind Y/n.

“For the love of God, tell me what?!”

“To tell you that Y/n is pregnant with Hyde’s baby!” Fez drunkenly shouted, causing the air in the room to still. “Oh, and they’re also getting married!”

Everyone in the room held their breath as they stared at Red.

“Fez, why?” Y/n trembled.

“Well, you weren’t going to say it, so I did.”

“Remind me to kick your ass later,” she seethed and turned around to face her father.

“Y/n, the foreign kid better be lying,” Red threatened, his voice wavering.

Her gaze fell to the floor, not able to keep eye contact with him. Her throat suddenly felt dry and she couldn’t find the words to speak. She swallowed thickly and shook her head.

“I swear to God, if this is some kind sick joke…” Red trailed off and looked around at everyone, seeing their horrified and sullen faces. “Are you really pregnant? With Steven’s baby?!”

Y/n cringed and dared herself to look up at him. “I’m sorry, Daddy, but yes.”

“Wow, I picked a great night to stay home,” Laurie beamed.

Red’s eyes darted to Steven who was visibly sweating. “YOU!”

Kitty was shaking as she stared at the scene in front of her in fright. “Run, honey, run!”

Hyde didn’t hesitate to jump off the couch and sprinted to the front door. Red was on his tail immediately.

“You son of a bitch!” Red roared as he ran after Hyde.

Luckily Hyde was faster as he ripped the door open and made his way down the street with Red running after him like a mad man.

Taglist: @jeeperky @05-feet-off-the-table-06 @cooloclown @mdittyz123 @n-dg-wm @undead-sierra @random-thoughts-003 @lieswithoutfairytales @taysirene @ xxivy-32

#Steven Hyde #that 70s show #That '70s Show #that 70's show Gif #that 70's show icons #that 70's show fanfic #Eric Forman #fez #fez x jackie #i just love when fez sings this because it's so cute haha #Michael Kelso #red forman #kitty forman #Donna Pinciotti #jackie burkhart #fanfic #steven hyde x reader #steven hyde x y/n

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

Stark Spangled Forever: Changes

Intro: Dealing with the changes of growing older can be a right, royal pain…

Warnings: SMUT (NSFW, NO under 18s!”)

Pairing:Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: So this all came from that damned photo of Evans and Dodger…and my mind went to a very warped place, sorry not sorry. (You can blame @icanfeelastormbrewing and @sweater-daddiesdumbdork for encouragement!)

I love your re-blogs and comment, as always.

SSF Masterlist // WIYPT Masterlist

July 2029

The Rogers household was at times with three kids all under 10 was chaotic. Before school, after school, at dinner times and bed times. But later at night, it was quiet, a time for Steve and Katie to relax with one another, ready to face it all again the day after. Well, that is when Bucky and Sam weren’t around, eating them out of house and home.

Tonight was one of those nights. All younger kids in bed, Emmy away with Brooke in Miami attending some beach party, and getting up to all sorts of mischief which Steve didn’t want to think about, leaving the two of them to snuggle on the sofa with a beer and a glass of wine, simply taking time out. And it wasn’t like they had to talk either to enjoy it. Like right now, Katie was curled up, her back nestling into Steve’s side as his arm lay across her chest, her nose buried in a book. Steve was watching some documentary on the History Channel, every so often dropping a kiss to the back of her head as she would reach up to rub his arm.

Domestic? Yes. Mundane? Yes. Absolute bliss? Yes.

The door the living room pushed open and Stark wandered in, tail wagging as he flopped down on the rug next to the fireplace, rolling onto his back, his preferred sleeping position. Katie eyed him for a moment and snorted.

“Thinks he owns the place.” she muttered, reaching out for her glass of wine. Noticing it was empty she gave a low groan and sat up.

“I’ll go…” Steve offered but she shook her head.

“No, honestly its fine…you need one or?”

He nodded, draining his bottle and she took the empty off him.

She headed out of the room and as soon as she had left Stark hopped up onto the sofa, laying his head against Steve who chuckled, giving him an ear scratch, his concentration still on the TV.

“Seriously.” Katie deadpanned and he looked up as she placed their drinks on the table. “I was gone for like 3 minutes if that…”

Steve shrugged and gave her a grin. “Guess he wanted a snuggle.”

“I don’t give a shit. Down.” Katie said, looking at the dog. Stark glanced at her reproachfully and instead twisted slightly so that he was on his back, looking up at Steve. “Fine…don’t listen to me…Steve, move him.”

“But look at him, baby…” Steve chuckled, glancing down at the dog.

“He’s in my seat.”

“Awww he’s comfy…”

“Steve!” Katie said louder this time and he turned his head up to see his wife stood there, arms folded as she glared at him then the dog. “I’m being serious…”

“Don’t shout you’ll upset him.” Steve said, not being able to resist teasing her a little more, but where as she would normally just laugh and call him a jerk or a dumbass, her eyes narrowed and her face grew stony.

“I’m not fighting with a dog over a seat on my fucking couch.” she said, “I said move him Steve…”

“Ok…” Steve said, holding his hands up “Stark, down…”

The dog gave a huff and slid off the sofa and Katie settled back into her seat. Steve glanced at her, his eyebrow raised.

“Don’t look at me like that Steven.” she warned him “You let that dog get away with murder.”

Steve took a deep breath, and bit back the response that she had been the same with Lucky. He knew now wasn’t the time so instead he made a joke “Well, I have a soft spot for Starks…” he muttered as he dropped a kiss to her lips.

“Yeah, and it’s gonna stay soft tonight too.” she said, pushing on his chest causing him to laugh. “Seriously though that dog’s a menace…” “He’s not that bad…” “Not that bad…” Katie sat up “Steve, 4 days after he arrived he ate 3 boxes of crayons-” “Yeah but it made his poop multi-coloured-” “He chewed up my favourite pair of Laboutins-” “I told you not to leave them by the stairs. I’ll buy you some new ones-“

“And last week he ate the keys to my Camero Steve, my fucking keys!”

“Yeah but you got them back-“ “And I put up with all of that…” she rambled on, her tone and pace increasing and Steve frowned slightly as he could sense now there wasn’t a bit of humour or good nature in her voice any more “What I’m not gonna put up with is him stealing my fucking seat next to my fucking husband on my fucking couch!”

She finished her rant and Steve blinked, raising his eyebrows.

“Are you done?” he asked her a moment later, his voice flat.

She took a deep breath and moved to grab her book, resuming her previous position. “Yes.”

“Feel better for getting that off your chest?”

“That’s not what I was doing.”

“Sounded like it to me.”

She groaned and slammed her book shut “I’m going upstairs…” Steve signed “Katie, come on sweetheart…don’t be like this.”

“Like what?”

“All pissed off over the dog!” he said, shaking his head “You’re being ridiculous.”

As soon as the words flew out of his mouth he grimaced inwardly. The worst thing he could ever say in the middle of one of her outbursts was exactly that.

“Really… ok, well how’s this for ridiculous? You love the dog so much? You can sleep with him in his basket tonight…” she snarled at Steve, before she stormed out of the room.

Steve watched her go, his mouth dropping open before he let out a groan and threw himself back against the cushions. In a second Stark had jumped back up into the spot Katie had vacated.

“What the fuck just happened?” he asked the dog, who promptly thumped his tail as he turned his head to Steve, before sneezing straight in the soldier’s face.

******

“And that’s all you did?” Bucky eyed Steve suspiciously.

“Yeah…” Steve protested his innocence “She just absolutely lost it! Then she gave me the cold shoulder this morning, and maintained radio silence all day other than to reply with the word OK when I said I was coming out to meet you guys after work.”

“So is it all down to the dog then?” Bucky asked.

“Possibly.” Steve conceded “He’s a little…different to Lucky…”

He trailed off, pondering what Bucky had said, wondering if his best friend had hit the nail on the head. Stark had been with them just over 7 months now and whilst Katie wasn’t overly hostile towards him, she wasn’t as loving either as she had been with Lucky. Steve got it, well he thought he did, she’d loved Lucky to pieces, but Stark was just as good a dog. Ok, so he was a little boisterous and far more mischievous than Lucky had been and had taken time to settle in. And he still had a habit of eating and chewing things but, all in all, the kids loved him, Steve loved him…

“Well, whatever it is I do know one thing…” Sam said, drawing Steve’s attention back to him.

“What?”

“The more you try and make sense of it, the less sense it’s gonna make.” he shrugged “Dude she’s a woman, just…”

Steve shook his head, whilst Katie was prone to her little moments and bratty outbursts, he was normally pretty good at getting into her head and understanding what was wrong with her. That was something that came from knowing her for 17 years and being in love with her for 16. Or 17 as he often admitted to himself that he was pretty sure he’d fallen for her that day she’d given him her cell number as they waved goodbye to Thor. Hell, if you added in the 15 he'd spent back in time after taking the stones back it was over 30...

“She’s not like that.” Steve said, “Ok she can be a bit hormonal at times but…”

“There you have it, maybe it’s time of the month?” Bucky shrugged and Steve rolled his eyes.

“She’s never normally that bad…”

Sam pondered for a moment “How old is she?”

“45 just gone, why?”

Sam made a noise as he clicked is finger and pointed at Steve “Menopause?”

“What?” Steve looked at him as Bucky scoffed.

“Shut up Birdbrain.” Bucky shook his head “That’s far too young to-“ “I’m being serious man…” Sam shrugged “That’s about the time my mom started going through the change and it was like living with a fucking velociraptor…” Steve took another drink of his beer.

“She been having any other symptoms? Hot flushes? How’s the sex life?” Sam pressed.

Steve groaned, his neck and ears flushing “The sex is fine, it’s great, as always…” he trailed off, refusing to discuss this anymore but even as he shook his head he thought back to a moment a few days ago when Katie had been complaining that she was really warm, despite him cracking the AC on full whack.

Bucky, sensing Steve’s discomfort changed topic and they spent the rest of the evening discussing far less dangerous subjects than Katie’s potentially dwindling ovaries before they called it a night and set off home. Sam headed for the subway to go back into Manhattan whilst Steve and Bucky continued towards their relative homes.

“Don’t worry about it.” Bucky said “She’ll be waiting when you get home with an apology, maybe in the form of a blow job…” Steve snorted “Maybe.” “And don’t listen to Sam. He talks shit.” Steve bid Bucky goodnight, and as he walked the few blocks back to their house he pulled his phone out and started googling symptoms of the menopause, grimacing as he read them.

Hot flushes, night sweats, weight gain, anxiety, difficulty concentrating, memory loss, sore or tender breasts, headaches, difficulty sleeping, vaginal dryness…

Fuck.

…a reduced sex drive

Double fuck.

…, mood swings, palpitations, joint stiffness, recurrent UTIs.

“Jesus” he groaned to himself, shoving his phone back in his pocket. He could attribute at least 10 of those to Katie over the past few months, remembering clearly the other day she’d flipped out at the fact her jeans were a little tight at the moment, and she’d had a banging headache yesterday morning, and had managed about 4 hours sleep…then there was the memory loss as she’d gone into the kitchen with the remote control and come back without it, having put it in the fridge, she’d complained last week her boobs were constantly sore…

Steve shook his head, if she was going through all this then she was entitled to be a little off and he was going to have to just put up with it as best he could.

He pressed his palm to the pad on the gate and once it was open enough he slipped through and walked to the door, sliding his key into the lock. Stark instantly shot out to greet him and after bending to give the dog loves he stood up and followed the soft tones of the piano to the den where Katie was playing with Rori on her lap already dressed for bed.

“Ok, now you try…” his wife said softly, and Rori placed her hands on the keys and began to track her mother’s movements.

“Almost…” Katie grinned, looking down at her, before her hands moved back and she played up a slowly “Try again.” This time Rori nailed it and let out a squeal as Katie laughed and dropped a kiss to her head.

“Nice work Princess…” Steve said, and they both turned to look at him.

“Daddy!” Rori said with a grin, shooting off the stool to run to him. He swept her up and gave her a big kiss on the cheek.

“Hey.” he smiled at her “You had a good day?”

Rori nodded “We did err…that thing where you do the numbers with each other and…what was it momma?”

“Times tables.” Katie smiled and Rori nodded.

“Yeah that, and then we did some reading and I got a gold star for doing a full chapter.”

“No way!” Steve grinned “You’re a brainbox just like your ma.” “So Momma made us all tacos for tea as a treat and then I did some piano!”

“I saved you some.” Katie looked at Steve “Wasn’t sure if you’d have eaten or not.” “Thanks.” he smiled at her taking her gesture for exactly what he knew it was, an apology. “The boys in bed?”

“Harry is. Jamie is in his room on his computer.”

“Ok, I’ll pop up. You ready for bed munchkin?”

Rori nodded “Story time?”

“You bet.”

With Rori in his arms he crossed the room to drop a kiss to Katie’s head before he took his daughter upstairs, Stark following. By the time he’d read Rori a story, tucked her in, checked on Harry and then had a hushed argument with Jamie about how he had another 30 minutes before lights almost 40 minutes had passed before he finally headed downstairs.

Katie was in the kitchen loading stuff into the dishwasher and he made his way over, wrapping his arms round her waist.

“I’m sorry.” she said gently, turning to face him, her hands gently scratching at his beard “I was out of order yesterday…” “It’s ok…” “No, it’s not.” she sighed “I’ve been up and down all over the last few months and taking it out on you and the kids isn’t fair.”

“Do you know why?” Steve asked, wondering how on earth he was going to broach the subject.

“Yeah, well, maybe. I spoke to Pepper before when she rang asking what time she should send Happy for the kids tomorrow, and she suggested I might be…” Katie took a deep breath “…going through the change, so to speak…” If Pepper had been in the room right there and then, Steve would have probably kissed her for being the one to bring this up so he didn’t have to.

“Anyway, I’ve made an appointment to go to the Doctor’s tomorrow.” Katie shrugged.

“Do you want me to come?” Steve asked.

“No.” she said, “It’s the middle of the afternoon. You’ll be in class.” “Ok.” he said, “Well, whatever it is we’ll work it together, yeah” “I know.” she smiled, as he leaned down to give her a kiss.

“And as the kids are at Peppers tomorrow, I think that means we can spend a bit of time alone…” he nudged her nose with his and she smiled “Take out, bottle of wine…” “The dog…” she smirked and Steve laughed.

“I’ll lock him in the hallway…” “You can’t do that to him!” she said, scoffing. “Poor Stark…”

“You hated him yesterday…”

“I don’t hate him.” she said softly “He’s just not Lucky…but Jamie made me realise something before. He pointed out that he has so many little personality traits that are different to Lucky…he’s his own dog, in his own right…I’ve not really been fair to him…”

“Hey…” he said, spotting the tears in her eyes. “Honey don’t…” “See!” she blurted out, spluttering a laugh as she wiped at her face “This is fucking ridiculous…”

Steve chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her again and she pressed her cheek into his t-shirt, breathing in his smell as she always did when she needed to ground herself. A mixture of the sandalwood notes in his aftershave, the soft linen smell of his clothes and, well, another smell, a manly type of note that she simply called his Steve scent. One that she insisted no other man smelt like and that she told him she was convinced came from the serum.

“I don’t wanna be going through the menopause” she moaned, “I don’t wanna get old, and wrinkly, and fat and…barren…”

At that Steve laughed, because he couldn’t fucking help it.

“Barren?” he looked down at her, shaking his head “You’re such an idiot…we have 4 kids…you gave birth to 3 of them.” “Don’t remind me.” she pulled back and narrowed her eyes “Rori’s birth still haunts me.”

“You know I was so proud of you that day.” he smiled at her. “Still am.”

“I’ve never been so frightened in my life.” she said, “And I mean that…even when we fought…and Tony…” she trailed off and swallowed “But I’d do it all again in a heartbeat because she’s so damned perfect and amazing…”

Something washed over Steve at her words, a feeling of pure love but also unadulterated absolute, heartfelt desire and he tipped his wife’s chin up so that she was looking directly at him, and he dropped his face.

“God I fucking love you…” he mumbled, pressing his lips to hers again, his arms pulling her closer.

“Yeah?” she asked as his hands moved to her hips and he gently lifted her up onto the counter.

“Yeah…” he said, standing in between her legs, his mouth dropping to her neck. She rolled her head back, giving him better access as he nipped at her pulse-point, before his lips moved to that hollow at the bottom of her throat, his beard scratching her skin. She let out a soft sigh as he smirked a little, her legs hooking around his waist to pull him closer.

“Want something baby girl?” he asked and she let out a groan at his words.

“Yeah, you…” she said, shamelessly.

“Well we all know that you always get what you want, brat…” he muttered, his lips sliding up to hers and he kissed her hard, his tongue sliding against hers as his hands moved to pop the button on her denim shots before he gently grasped at the waistband and she shifted to allow him to pull them down over her legs, tossing them to one side. His hands slip up underneath the t-shirt she was wearing, pulling down one side of her bra, his hands gently teasing at her nipple, all the time listening to the soft noises and groans she was making as he continued, his nose brushing against hers, smiling softly.

“You like that?” he whispered, knowing full well that she did, but he knew she liked his soft dirty talk and she gave a sigh and a nod, followed by a little squeak as he pushed two fingers insider her.

Her head fell forward onto his shoulder as her hands grasped at his back through his T-shirt, and as he continued to stroke and coax her she bit down on his neck causing him to hiss slightly at the bite of pain.

“Need you…” she purred into his ear “Please.”

And when she asked like that, he was always powerless to refuse. This woman was his absolute weakness.

He moved his head to kiss her again, and removing his hand from her panties he reached up and pulled them down before he stood up, and she reached for his belt, opening it easily and quickly before doing the same to the button and zip on his jeans. She pushed them down, over his hips as Steve’s hands moved to her back and he gently pulled her forwards, sliding her towards him, letting her feel how ready he was. She reached down and gently gave his hard cock a pump up and down and he let out a groan as he pulled her off the counter slightly, her legs wrapping around his waist, arms round his neck, her lower back resting against the side of the worktop both of them letting out a load moan of satisfaction as he pushed forward, all the way home.

Steve’s head dropped to Katie’s shoulder, his mouth once more on the pulse point in her neck as he thrust again, his hands on her back, keeping her supported slightly

“God you feel so good…” he said, his lips moving back to hers as he set a pace that was torturously slow, and deep, and loving. Thrust after thrust he kept his lips either on hers or centimetres away, watching her intently as her pupils blew as he worked her up, driving into her, as deep as he could go, one hand resting at the back of her spine to keep her back from slamming into the harsh marble edge of the counter, the other guiding her head so he could kiss her, hard.

Her hands moved, the nails scraping lightly at the nape of his neck, and Steve felt himself falter for a split second at her touch.

“Fuck doll…” he groaned into her mouth as she grinned cheekily, her hands sliding down to his bare ass as she urged him on, desperate for him to pick up the pace. So be obliged, giving her what she wanted.

Because he always did.

She held on to his ass for dear life, moaning with her body arching in his hands, the fabric of his jeans chafed delectably against her thighs, the belt buckle hitting her hard with every thrust and before long she let out a loud groan, her hands tightening on his skin as she cried out as he quickened his pace even more, causing her to gasp his name, a broken mumble of the word “Stevie…” before she let out a breathless gasp, her voice catching in her throat as the world began to tip on its axis.

“Come on, come for me doll…” he whispered, his breath hot on her ear. And that was it, she dropped over the edge, her head falling back as her hands slid up and grasped tightly on the hem of his shirt as she clenched around him, again and again, groaning and trembling, powerless to stop her body’s reactions. It took him another couple of thrusts before he gave a soft “oh” of pleasure, her name tumbled from his mouth before he bit down on her shoulder softly, reacting his own end. He gave a few erratic thrusts, pumping with short, deep strokes which sent Katie over another peak, but this was feeble as she collapsed forward, her head laying on his shoulder, utterly spent.

They stayed still for a moment, the only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock on the wall as Steve gently held his wife to him, as they both evened out from their high.

“Love you…” she said softly, kissing the tip of his nose causing him to smile, that cheeky smile he saved just for her before his lips met hers again

“Good, because I love you too pretty girl, more than you could ever know.”

***** If he was honest, Steve had forgotten all about Katie’s appointment until just after lunch, when he ushered his students into the seminar room and smiled at one of them, a small, slight red head, also called Katie. With a quick curse at himself, he fired his wife a text telling her to call him when she’d been seen, and that he loved her, before he closed the door and sat down in his chair and began to talk the group through the notes from the lecture before he invited them to discuss the subject of Money, impressionism and the understanding how the juxta positioning of colours against one another reflected the effects of light on objects.

Katie didn’t reply, other than to say that she was ok, the appointment had been fine and that Happy was on his way to collect the kids to take them to Pepper’s for the weekend. He’d said goodbye to them this morning, the 3 of them not in the slightest bit bothered they wouldn’t see him until Sunday, which was always something that slightly peeved him a little, but also made him glad that they had a good time with the Auntie and Cousin whilst they were at the lake house. It was important to him, and Katie, that their kids kept a good relationship with Pepper and Morgan, as they’d all be so close before Tony had died, so once a month all their kids headed up there, and then 2 weeks later Morgan would spend the weekend with them.

Steve drove the relatively short distance home and walked into the house, finding Katie at the kitchen table, face-timing Emmy and Brooke. He dropped a kiss to her cheek and waved at his eldest and he best friend, joining in the chat until they declared they had to get ready for the next round of partying and bid them both goodbye. Katie dropped the phone to the table as Steve stood up and retrieved a beer from the fridge. Katie waved off his offer and ran her hands over her face, a tired expression on her features as she stood up.

“Hey, you ok?” he asked, a little concerned as he flipped the lid off his beer. “Yeah…” she nodded, her eyes flickering to the white bag on the table which bore the Pharmacy logo on the front.

“I take it the Doctors gave you something then, for the…” he said, nodding towards it, taking a drink from the bottle. “It’s not the menopause.” she cut him off, shaking her head.

Steve frowned, “It’s not.” “No, I err…” she swallowed and looked at him “Steve, you might wanna sit down.”

“Are you sick?” Steve frowned, ignoring her instruction, his mind flying all over the place. That was his worst nightmare; that she got sick and it was serious, meaning she’d end up leaving him and the kids behind…

“Steve…” “Baby you’re worrying me…”

“I’m pregnant.” she blurted out.

The bottle Steve was holding slipped from his hand and landed on the tiles, shattering at his feet, showering the bottoms of his trousers in beer but he paid it no attention. Instead, he blinked, his wife’s words echoing around his head.

“Pregnant…” he whispered. “How, I mean…you’re on the pill…”

Katie shrugged “It can happen, apparently, and of course it would happen to us…”

Steve looked at her as she stood, her eyes locked onto his. They had certainly not planned this, one iota. Harry was meant to be their last, their little “one more” as they’d put it. But here they were, with another “one more” on the way.

“I…” Steve was struggling to find his words. “Honey…this…I…shit…”

“You know I expect this one…” she pointed to her belly “To be more articulate than you’re being right now when they’re two…”

He looked at her, blinked and then his face split into a huge grin and he pulled her to him, pressing his lips to hers in an excited kiss. “Oh my baby momma…” he pulled back, his hands cupping her face as she smiled up at him and he grinned cheekily “I got you pregnant 4 times…”

“Yeah, now I come to think of it the plants in the hallway are withering a little. Maybe you can go jerk off in the pots, bring them back to life.” she quipped.

“I’d rather fuck you if it’s all the same…” he grinned, reaching down and grabbing the back of her thighs, hauling her up against him as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Take me to bed Soldier” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, and not one who needed asking twice, Steve kissed her again before he backed them out of the kitchen.

N/B SURPRISE MOFOS…BET YOU DIDN’T SEE THAT ONE COMING!!! Baby Rogers no 5 is on the way!!!!!

@the-omni-princess @momobaby227 @geekofmanythings16 @angelofhell-666 @thewackywriter @marvelfansworld @cobalt-gear @asgardlover75 @jennmurawski13 @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie @navispalace @patzammit @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @icanfeelastormbrewing @djeniiscorner @ayamenimthiriel @coldmuffinbanditshoe @disneylovingal @official-and-unstable-satan @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @anika-ann

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers #oneshot #bucky barnes #sam wilson #stark spangled forever #katie stark #mcu #mcu fanfiction

96 notes · View notes

sestra-inestro · 4 years

Text

Just A Really Big Mistake (5/?)

Jane the Virgin!AU - Heavily based on ‘Jane the Virgin’, I do not own Jane the Virgin or the characters I write with. All rights go to the original creators.

Summary: You decide that holding onto your virginity is pointless now you’re pregnant, so you tell Steve you are ready to have coitus.

Warnings: Mentions of sex, slight angst, mention of blood and death, lies.

A/N: I’m so gonna fall behind on this :’) pls send help.

Idea from the great @whatcouldgowrong-ohthat. Please enjoy!

May opens the front, ready to leave for the day when she is stopped when she sees Tony walking onto the porch.

“What the fuck are you doing here? I thought you were warned not to come here until June was ready?” May growls at the man.

“Relax, May.” Tony raises his hands. “I’m not here to see June. I’m here to apologise to you and Pepper. And I’m pretty sure the boy saw me the other night.”

“Yes, he did.” May crossed her arms. “You couldn’t have sent a gift basket or something?”

“Come on, please May? I wanna apologise to you and Pepper in person.” Tony was willing to beg to be let in.

May stood there, with her arms crossed and her head tilted, waiting for the apology.

Tony straightened himself and took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m sorry, May. I overstepped and I shouldn’t have.”

May stood there and took in his apology and Tony waited for a response.

She finally hugged before turning around to walk back inside. “You’re lucky June was still in the bathroom when I went to leave.”

Tony wasted no time and followed May and she pushed back into the house.

May marched passed the living room which held Peter and to Pepper’s room, banging on the door.

“Pep, someone wants another chat.” May said, rolling her eyes before walking into the kitchen.

Pepper opens the door, her face falling at the sight of Tony before she pulls him into the room and slamming the door.

“Um, May?” Peter raised his eyebrow.

“Don’t worry about it, honey.” May waves her nephew off. “Just let her sort him out.”

Peter glances between her and Pepper’s bedroom, slightly concerned.

The bathroom door opens and you come out, looking around and confused. “Have you guys seen my wedges?”

Peter and May froze. “No, honey. Maybe they are in your room?”

You shake your head. “No, they aren’t, I checked. Maybe Pepper knows.” You think out loud and moves to her room.

“No!” Both May and Peter yell at you at the same time, making you jump and look at them.

“What?” You ask, flabbergasted at their outburst.

“She’s-uh-sleeping.” Peter stumbles out.

“Yeah, hun. You know how grumpy she is.” May nods and goes along with it.

“No, she’s not, I could hear her talking before.” You pointed to her door and frowned at them.

You could see them visible shift and look awkward. “Are you two okay? You look constipated.”

When they didn’t answer, you frowned back at them and turned back to Pepper’s door.

“What the hell are you doing here? I told you not to come back.” Pepper growled quietly at Tony.

“I know, but I had to come here to apologise.” Tony said in a soft voice, trying to calm her.

“You couldn’t have just called?” Pepper started to panic.

“This had to be done in person.” Tony said again, softly.

“Gosh, you don’t fucking learn, do you? June is home this morning.” Pepper exasperated before there was a knock on the door.

“Pep? Have you seen my wedges?” You asked through the door. You try to open the door but it’s locked.

“Hold on honey!” Pepper called to you.

“This is a fantastic chance to tell her!” Tony’s eyes widened with excitement.

Pepper whacks him on the chest to shut him up.

“Come on, I need to get to work.” You jiggle the door handle some more. “Why is this even locked?”

Pepper opens the door slightly just to see her face and pushed the wedges out to you. “Here you go, hun.” She says as if she is trying to catch her breath.

You frown at her and take the shoes. “What’s going on in there?”

You watch as Pepper goes over things in her head. “Menopause.” She blurts out.

You actually flinch at her words. “Aren’t you a little young for that?”

“Some women just work differently.” Pepper nervously chuckles. “Something for you to look forward to.”

She shuts the door again fast before you can react.

“June, honey. Come here for me please.” May calls you from the kitchen. You shake your head at Pepper’s antics but move to the kitchen where Peter and May stood.

“Try this for me.” May offers you a piece of sandwich that Peter was eating.

“Peters sandwich?” You asked, grabbing it from her.

“Yeah, I wanna try making it spicier. New recipe I found.” May nods enthusiastically.

As you take a bite, Pepper and Tony creep passed the kitchen. Tony halts at the sight of you, taking you in for a second.

“Yeah, May. I think it’s plenty spicy.” You screw up your face at the flavour.

You go to turn to the fridge to grab milk and suddenly Peter yelps and May grabs your forearms, pulling you into her arms.

Pepper grabs Tony’s wrist and pulls him the rest of the way and out of the house, away from you.

“We have to tell her soon.” Tony says. He really wants to be able to hug you.

“As soon as she is ready.” Pepper reminds him.

“And you get to decide that?” Tony raises his eyebrow.

“Well, you sure as hell don’t. Now go.” Pepper said before shutting the door. Somehow, she knew that that wasn’t the last she’d see of him for a while.

After the whole ordeal this morning, Steve picked you up to take you to the Hotel to be interviewed about the incident with your boss, Sam.

“Are you okay? I know this is a tense situation but it’ll all be fine.” Steve said as he noticed you lost in your thoughts.

“Yeah. Funnily enough, I’m not thinking about that.” You turn and look at him. You notice some features on his face that you haven’t really paid attention to before. How blue his eyes shine when his skin is paler than usual, how the stoic look on his face makes him look older.

“What re you thinking about?” His voice made you warm.

“You?” You say.

You can see the twitch at the sides of his mouth as he fights a smile and his eyes narrow.

You turn your body to him in your seat. “Think about it with me. I’m an unmarried pregnant woman, my life is pretty much off the rails now. The thing I was most afraid of has happened and there’s no way to reverse that now.” You say at him.

His eyebrows frown and he shakes his head slightly at your fast words. “Okay? What’s your point here?” Steve asks you.

“One thing I am sure about is that I love you. And we are engaged and going to be married.” You bit your lip with excitement. “I want to have sex with you.”

Steve’s eyebrows now raise in shock at your words. But hope also filled his eyes. “Are you sure?”

You nodded with a glint in your eyes. “Very sure.”

A small spreads across Steve’s face. “Okay, let’s do it.”

After making out for a short while, Steve walked you into your interview, which was surprisingly quick. You had changed into your uniform and were walking the halls of the hotel when you turn the corner to see Bucky standing in the middle of the hall watching men walk into the room you assumed to be the crime scene.

Bucky sees you from the corner of his eye and you suddenly don’t know what to do.

Before you can think about t too much, you step forward to him.

“Hey.” You give a small wave.

“Hi.” Bucky says in a defeated tone.

“Did you know him? The guy who, uh, him.” You don’t want to say ‘the dead guy’ so you find it hard to find the words.

“Sam Wilson. He was my college roommate.” Bucky says with his eyes low.

At his words and the sad look in his eyes, you felt compelled to comfort him and your hand goes to his arm, giving it a light squeeze. His eyes watch your action and suddenly, you feel your heart beating faster.

Feeling weird at the sudden speed of your heart, you take your hand off his arm. “Well, I’m here if you need anything.” You say quickly.

“Thank you, June.” Bucky nods and gives you a weak smile.

As he is called into the room, you quickly turn around and go back down to the lobby and the restaurant, joining your friends.

“Hey, June.” Wanda says as you join them. “What’s new with you?”

“Oh, you know,” Still pregnant with my bosses baby, on the rocks with my fiancé, dead guy blood all over my old uniform dress. “The usual.” You say with a smile. “Actually, me and Steve have decided to have sex.”

Wanda looks up at you and almost drops a plate. “Oh my god, what? You’re gonna give up your V Card?”

You nod at her and smile amusedly at her. “Well, I’m already pregnant and I didn’t even need to have sex for that.”

Wanda jogs on the spot, happily calling and squealing. “This is so exciting! Oh my god, you should get a room here!”

“What’s this I hear about a girl losing her virginity?” Dot comes slinking over, followed by Vision. “Is our little June gonna finally pop her cherry?”

“Aw, June Bug.” Vision wraps an arm around you. “You’re finally gonna be a woman.”

“Oh stop.” You chuckle and shrug him off. “I just think it’s pointless waiting now.”

“Yes! And like I said, get a room here. It’ll be so romantic.” Wanda smiles dreamily at her own words.

“Much better than mine. My first time was in a tanning bed.” Dot says.

“Ew.” Everyone says back to her.

“You should get one of the eleventh-floor suites, cops closed the whole floor.” Vision suggested.

“Oh, those are nice.” Wanda commented as she moved around the bar to start cleaning the glasses.

“So are you nervous?” Dot asks you as you all follow Wanda.

“Nervous? No.” You shake your head but not believing yourself. “Yeah. Maybe a little bit. I just want it to be good, for me, for him.”

“You’re both gonna cry.” Vision chuckles as he rearranged the glasses.

You smile and throw a towel at him. “I’ll take table eight.” You dismiss yourself from the conversation and walk over to the table with three people.

“Hi, can I get you guys anything?” You say in your best customer service voice.

The woman facing away from you turns around and you freeze. Becca also freezes as she sees you in the waitress uniform.

“Oh, hi.” Becca says quietly. “Dad, Maria, this is the woman I accidentally inseminated who’s suing me.” Becca introduces you to who you assume it Bucky’s dad and stepmother, who are also looking at you in shock.

Becca puts on the fakest smile she can muster and turns to you. “Get we get three waters please.” Her eyes are apologetic to you at this horrible situation.

“Maybe I should get someone else.” You say as you slowly back off.

“Good idea.” They all day in unison and you take off to find someone else.

“Someone needs to take table eight. It’s Bucky’s family.” You say to your friends.

“Is that the woman who inseminated you?” Wanda asks looking over at them.

“Mhm.” You hum and nod nervously.

“Okay, here.” Vision takes one of the key cards off the wall behind him and hands it to you. “We will cover your shift right now, you go find a room for you and Steve tonight.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, of course.” Dot pats your back. “Gives you time to clear your head.”

“Plus, it’s early, there’s barely anyone here.” Wanda reassures you.

You take the key card from Vision and think about it. “If it gets busier you’ll call me back?”

“Of course. Now go.” Vision says and all but shoves you to the elevator and taking your tables. What on earth would you do without your friends?

You take the elevator up to the eleventh floor again and walk to the suites. You are about to open the door when you see Natasha lurking around the crime scene. Confused, you hide around the corner and peek around at her to observe.

She looks nervous as you sneak around to get a look into the room before moving away and popping a pill.

You frown as she swallows the pill dry. Why would she be so nervous that she has to take a pill, and what pill is she taking? All these thoughts flood your mind as you start to think about the baby. Because of the baby, you were very critical about Bucky’s past, and having only met Natasha once, seeing her pop pills around a crime scene was causing you to start worrying about her abilities.

As if to cut off the baby’s thoughts in your mind and give you something else to worry about, Steve came around the corner behind Natasha, seeing her and being hesitant before walking towards her. You see them converse in the hallway for a moment before moving to the elevator.

What the hell?

You bolt back down the hallway and head to the fire stairs, working your legs quick to get down to the lobby before the elevator. Almost snapping your ankles and breaking your legs on the stairs, you reach the lobby and stand in front of the elevator, with little time to catch your breath before it opens.

“June!” Steve says in surprise as he sees you.

“Hey. Hi. What are you guys up to?” You say with a steady breath.

“We were just talking about hotel security. Looks like we need a tighter hold on that stuff.” Natasha said easily as she steps out of the elevator. “Are we still on for coffee later or...?”

“Yes.” You say with a knowing smile. “Of course, I’ll see you then.”

“Okay good.” She waves as she walks off.

You watch her walk away before turning to Steve.

“Are you okay?” He asks before you can talk.

“Yes, I’m fine. What was all that about?” You ask him with a hand on your hip.

“What?” Steve frowns.

“Well, I was upstairs trying to get us a room for tonight-“

“You got us a room?” Steve smiles at the thought.

“Yes, but listen.” You point at him. “I saw Nat lurking outside of the crime scene, and then I saw you meet her up there. What were you guys talking about?”

“Lurking? Okay, you’ve officially watched too much of that TV show.” Steve smirks.

“Steve, I’m saying that because she was a-lurking. What’s going on with you?” You frown at him.

“Nothing.” He shrugs.

“Then why are you dismissing me?” You ask him and cross your arms.

“I’m dismissing you because you’re not making any sense. You’re like, hormonal or something.” You glare at him as he says that.

You stand there and observe him before uncrossing your arms and walking away.

Steve goes to open his mouth but knows it’s useless. He wanted to tell you everything instead of letting it snowball, but he couldn’t, he need to keep the affair a secret from you. He couldn’t be stuck with some other dudes baby.

After working for a few hours, you had done nothing to fix your reeling mind. During your break, you went to get some churros and walk along the docks.

You were munching on the churros when you came across Bucky sitting on one of the benches, smiling at you.

You hum at him with your mouth full and cover your mouth. “Hey.” You murmur.

“Hey.” He says. “Are you done with work?” He asks you.

You shake your head. “I had a break. And I had this need to eat a churro. I guess it’s one of my pregnancy cravings.” You smile down at him as he listens with admiration. “I would offer you some, but I’m afraid if I do I may resent you in a very serious way.”

He chuckles at you. “Don’t worry, that’s all yours.”

You see the many pages of paper in his hand. “What’s that?”

“Oh,” He looks at it. “Press release.” He then looks up at you with an idea. “Wait, you’re a writer. Can you help me with this?”

“You know you’re the only one who calls me a writer, right?” You say to him.

“Well, are you writing?” He asked with a raised eyebrow and you sigh in defeat. He smiles, knowing he’s right.

“I have to give this statement about the incident last night, but I can’t make it seem,” he pauses as he tries to find the words. “Nicer.”

He offers you the page to read it and you frown at the wording. “So your college roommate was a ‘troubled young man who you and the hotel have nothing to do with’?” Your brows crease at the statement.

“Yeah, I know.” Bucky sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “My father wants the hotel to keep its reputation and distance it away from any of this drama.”

You give him a pained look as you listen.

“What?” He asks you.

“Nothing.” He doesn’t believe you. “I’m sorry. I’m judgey. You should know that about me, you may have a really judgey kid.”

“Well, what does ‘judgey’ sound like? So I can be prepared.” He gives you a smile of amusement.

You take a deep breath, he is asking for it.

“You told me that you don’t want to be anything like your dad. But this statement is what he wants for the hotel, isn’t it? I’m just saying actions speak louder than words.” You say quickly before looking down and away from his eyes.

You wait for him to say something back but you feel a warm hand on your knee. You look up and see he is smiling at you, sweetly.

“I hope the baby is judgey.” Bucky says in a quiet voice, low enough for only you to hear.

You start to feel your heart quicken once again and your chest begins to tighten. The second time today, he made your heart beat faster.

“Um,” you stand up. “I should get back. To work.” You stumble over your words as you back away. “Good to see you.” You say before turning and almost running away.

Bucky frowns as he watches you speed walk away but chuckles and shakes his head at you.

Every time he sees you, he always feels just a little better throughout the day. That’s why he doesn’t mind your slight weirdness, you’ve given him a reason to smile and laugh and he can’t help but want more.

#bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes au #steve rogers au #bucky barnes angst #steve rogers angst #jane the virgin au #bucky barnes fic #steve rogers fic #bucky barnes x fem!reader angst #steve rogers x fem!reader #bucky barnes series #steve rogers series #bucky barnes x natasha romanoff

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susannewoodwort · 4 years

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lastsonlost · 5 years

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I heard a story about a woman who knew her husband had left her when she came home from work and their Alexa was missing.

The woman put something in the oven and said, “Alexa! Set the timer.”

Alexa did not respond.

“Alexa?”

The woman searched her house. Her husband had packed his bags, moved out, and taken Alexa.

This will never happen to me because I am the kind of woman who will never have an Alexa, because I will never let another woman’s name be said more than my own, in my home.

Or anywhere else.When my husband and I stayed at The Wynn Resort and Casino in Las Vegas, every room came with Alexa. Two robes, electric blackout drapes, HBO, and Alexa.Alexa was beige and sat on the beige desk and blended into the beige wallpaper. She looked like one of those toads that blends into a desert. You don’t see it until it blinks.

And then it is all you see. Breathing and blinking and listening and looking at you. Blink.We overheard our hotel neighbor get his wife in the mood. “Alexa! Play Stevie Wonder!”Alexa said, “Playing Stevie Wonder on SiriusXM.”And then: “Alexa! Play ‘My Cherie Amour’!”Alexa said, “Playing ‘My Cheri Amour.’”And then, through muffled cries of passion: “Alexa! Play ‘Very Superstitious’!”Alexa said, “I’m having trouble understanding you. Would you repeat that?”“Play ‘Very Superstitious’!”“Do you mean, ‘Superstition’?”“Yes!”“Ok. Playing ‘Superstition’.”

Yes, during a game of Tune in Tokyo with his wife, our neighbor had a full-on conversation with another woman. Robot lady or not, that is an open marriage. And my marriage is as shuttered up as a beach house in a hurricane.I called housekeeping to have Alexa removed from our room.

No, I did not think my husband would fall in love with Alexa the same way some Japanese men marry their Nintendo virtual girlfriends. But you can never be too sure. These things happen. And Alexa knows all of your man’s things.Alexa is never impatient or sullen or moody or mad. She never gets her period, so she never gets PMS. Menopause and gravity are as hysterical as Chip and Dale. Alexa speaks only when spoken to. She sits at the ready, ready to serve.

You’d call me crazy if I let another woman sit in the corner of my bedroom, all day, every day; never sleeping, or in want of food, water, chitchat, or a toilet; able to summon my husband’s every whim from Amazon like a modern day Barbara Eden in a bottle.“Alexa! Order a cooling eye mask and a box of Nicorette.”“Yes, Master.” Blink.Nuh-uh, no way. I Dream of Jeanie genie, Jeff Bezos robot lady, or Playboy centerfold — they are all the same to me. I ain’t letting none of them in my house. Because it’s my house and my husband is mine. I’m not jealous, I’m territorial.

It’s not that I don’t trust my husband. I trust him.But, it’s like Mama used to say when I started to drive, “I trust you, Helen Michelle, I just don’t trust the rest of the world.” Mama taught me: “Before you get in a car, check the backseat for a crouched murderer; and then check under the car because that’s where murderers like to hide and slice your ankles.”Mama taught me: “Before you get in a car, check the backseat for a crouched murderer; and then check under the car because that’s where murderers like to hide and slice your ankles.”I’m such a defensive driver, I haven’t driven since I was 19. So when it comes to my marriage, I’m a defensive wife.

Im not going to let my husband and thereby my marriage be preyed upon. We’re all human and susceptible to temptation. Honestly, if fold-out Farrah Fawcett came to life in that red one-piece, she’d have my hall pass. Hall passes are imaginary Get Out of Jail Free cards that married people give each other to fantasize about cheating with celebrities or dead people, before they got old or died. But, a fantasy is cheating.

That’s why you keep it to yourself. My husband and I do not have hall passes.If my husband cheats on me in my dreams, I wake up furious. Or I used to. A few years back, I made it a New Year’s resolution to stop chastising him as soon as he opened his chocolaty brown eyes because, as he has said: he didn’t DO anything.If my husband cheats on me in my dreams, I wake up furious.My husband never does anything. So, I trust him. I just don’t trust the rest of the world.When I went on book tour for three weeks, my husband lost seven pounds and I treated his healthy choices as a personal affront. In my absence, he’d ordered twenty-one lunches and twenty-one suppers from Chop’t Creative Salad Company.

So, forty-two salads.To me, a salad bar is as foreboding as a sex dungeon: chilly, and laid out with objects that I would never dare handle. I mean, Beets? Jicama? How do you even even begin to peel and cook those things? I imagined a Chop’t lady salad-chopper, clad in a latex apron and stud collar, side-stepping along a smorgasbord of kink, asking in the desensitized tone of a 9–1–1 operator: “And what else?”“Ball gag.”“And what else?”“Anal beads.”“And what else?”“Avocado”“Avocado is $1.99 extra

.”“Ok.”“And what else?” Blink.Ifeed my husband pasta, potatoes, gluten, and carbs. I feed him these things because they make his eyes roll back in his head and he makes a little noise. I like to make him make that little noise, and Lipitor be damned, I will continue to make the food that makes him make that little noise until our hearts burst and we die.And I make spaghetti. My husband has loved and eaten my spaghetti for twenty-some years. He loves my spaghetti and I am quite sure it is one of the many reasons why he married me.

My spaghetti started out as a jar of Ragu and a pound of ground round; but with age and experimentation, developed into hand-rolled lamb and pork meatballs simmered in a homemade marinara, topped with sautéed mushrooms. Same dish, new tricks. But it’s still my spaghetti. Or as I like to call it: The Usual, Enhanced.When my husband eats forty-two salads while I’m out of town, I get nervous because someone gave my husband something I could have, but didn’t.I asked him: “Do you want me to make salads?”My husband said, “Maybe sometimes.”I asked: “Do you want me to buy a cat-o’-nine-tails and walk you around the living room on a leash?”“What? No. Why would you ask me that?”“Just checking.”After all, we’ve spent half our lifetimes doing The Usual, Enhanced in bed. And for ages, I’ve worn pajamas with my married initials monogrammed on the pocket. Nothing says, Let’s get it on like embroidery. But you never know.

So, every few years, it’s polite to ask.Because I respect my marriage.To people who are not respectful of my marriage, I am not polite.There are marital lines you should not cross. And as a defensive wife, it’s my place to point them out to you. Usually it takes one comment from me for you to learn where the lines are. Once you identify them, we’ll get along fine; and you can maneuver around those lines like Tom Cruise did in that roomful of lasers in Mission Impossible.A man at our home poker game had the habit of getting up from his seat to rub other men’s shoulders. I was the only woman at the table, and he knew better than to lay hands on me, but when he put his meat hooks onto the bare skin of my husband’s neck, I said, “Get your hands off my husband!”“What?” he laughed.All the men laughed.I said, “Would you massage another man’s wife?”Message received.

Other helpful hints include: Don’t call, text, or email my husband to make social plans, contact me. Don’t give my husband a gift, because I will construe whatever it is as too personal. Don’t talk about my husband’s butt, only I get to talk about his butt. Don’t post a picture of my husband with his shirt off on your Facebook page. No, it doesn’t matter that he was sitting on softball bleachers with six other men who had their shirts off on the hottest day in history. He is half-naked, and that glistening sun-kissed chest is mine, not yours to share.And I ain’t sharing.Those who don’t take my warnings seriously, fall off our Christmas card list. Sometimes, I let them live on in infamy with little nicknames like Baby Fish Mouth and The Drip. I can’t tell you what those nicknames stem from, or what those women did to offend me; because if they recognize themselves in print, won’t my face be red? So, let’s just say, they did something inappropriate in front of my husband. Like commando cartwheels. And then, after I expressly told them not to, cartwheeled again.Not everyone who bothers me is such a femme fatale.

A femme fatale used to be a 1940’s black-and-white movie actress, who smoked Pall Malls with a cigarette holder and could seduce a walnut; nowadays it’s any woman who’s younger and has a waist cinched like a Go-Gurt. But I’m an equal-opportunity hand-slapper. And no one deserves to get her hand slapped more than a person who tries to bust the chops of my marriage.At a party, in front of me and a bunch of guests, a woman grabbed my husband’s left hand, and asked him where his wedding ring was. In truth, there have been three such women at three such parties. And the only reason any of these women would call attention to a missing wedding ring is to imply that my husband is in the market to cheat. My husband is Greek and thereby wears his ring on his right hand.

He held up his right hand and showed this woman his ring.The woman said, “Oh.”And then I asked that woman in front of my husband and that very same bunch of guests: “Do you have many women friends?”The woman said, “No.”I said, “That kind of comment is why.”When I told my friend Hannah about this, she said, “I don’t remember what you did years ago, but I figured out real-quick that I wasn’t supposed to say nice things about his suits.”I said, “I probably dumped a bowl of spaghetti over your head.”Hannah said, “No it wasn’t that.”“Did I tell you flat out: don’t talk about my husband’s suits.”Hannah said, “I think you gave me a look.

”Yeah, I can give a rough look. There’s nothing scarier than a happy peppy woman going dark in an instant. It’s like a Raggedy Ann doll foaming at the mouth. You see that once, you don’t ever want to see it again.And Hannah hasn’t. A benefit of never again crossing one of my marital lines is that I am as fiercely appreciative of, loyal to, and protective of our friendship.My friend Ann says, “Your ferocity is how you show love.”I love my husband so much, I tell him: “If you cheat on me, I am going to jail. Because I will murder you. I have no fear of prison. I can be somebody’s bitch in two seconds.”My husband has never cheated on me.

I trust him because he knows my rules apply to him too.He may compliment another woman’s intelligence, sense of humor, career, and accomplishments; but he may not compliment her appearance. He may hug a female friend hello (upon her initiation), but he may not otherwise touch her unless he’s administering the Heimlich maneuver, which out of respect for me, he has never bothered to learn. He doesn’t need to know the Heimlich maneuver, because I know the Heimlich maneuver, and the latest CPR method, and how to use an airport defibrillator. My husband knows how to dial 9–1–1.A dispatcher asks, “9–1–1, what’s your emergency?”“I’d like a serving platter for our twentieth wedding anniversary.”“And what else?”“Roses.”“And what else?”“Chocolates.”“Soft center or nuts?”“My wife isn’t nuts.”Blink.

#wife #abuse

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80s-roger · 5 years

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when love must die: joe mazzello

summary: you're married to joe mazzello for three years; the best three years of your life and the previous three dating and later being engaged. however, since day one of your marriage, you try for a successful pregnancy but they all end up failed. your most successful pregnancy was an IVF one, but the tube baby didn't make it at the last day of the first trimester.

portray: current joe obv, female reader at 30.

words: 2306

warnings: unprotected sex, fluff, domestic violence experience, argument.

note: there will be part two.

masterlist

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Joe was at the set, he'd be back home soon for dinner. The table was ready and you got yourself a pregnancy test. You ran to the bathroom upstairs to finally find out. Plus or minus? You didn't have your period since the last time you had sex with him -almost two months ago- and you were excited if it was because of a fetus growing inside you.

You took the test, sitting impatiently at the toilet's cap, waiting for the result. You wished it was a plus symbol, meaning you're pregnant. Unfortunately, it had just a horizontal line. You were disappointed again. Crying loudly because your husband wasn't home, so you finally had the time to let it all out. You've been praying days and nights to have a baby. It's unfair for you when other women throw their newborns at the litter.

Suddenly the door opens fastly and you were scared to death. You got relieved as you saw Joe looking at you with terror in his eyes.

"What happened?" He asked terrified sitting next to you, placing you in his big arms.

You didn't say a word. The tears wouldn't stop running. He erased them with his fingers, until he noticed the test next to you. He looked at you without saying a word. He took it at his hand and saw it was negative. He threw it at the bin and pulled you closer, rubbing your back.

"It's going to happen. Don't worry." He whispered.

Thankfully, he was really supportive on this. He wants to be a dad as much as you want to be a mum but he is patient and never stresses you on this. You've seen your doctor and he says it's just your nature. Nature? A woman's nature after unprotected sex, is getting pregnant, having a fetus growing at her uterus for nine months and later having it in her arms, breastfeeding it. You can't try forever. There will be someday, you'll reach menopause.

Joe and you walked at the kitchen, ready to eat your dinner. He places you at your chair but you had no will on eating.

"Baby you gotta eat." He said after taking a bite of his portion.

"I'm not hungry..." You sobbed, placing your dish away from you.

"It's probably too early for the test to know..." He mentioned the test, trying to make you feel better.

"It's been almost two months, not two days." You commented, looking at him. Your dinner stopped. It was just talk.

"I'm trying to help here. I know it's hard, but we'll make it." He placed his palm over your hand.

"It's easier said than done Joe. Do you have any idea how terrible I feel?" You whimpered. "We're trying for three years, we'd have a baby by now." You stuttered.

"It's fine Y/N... I'm patient enough to make space for your emotions." he explained.

"Why are you even married with me? I'm nothing but an obstacle to your new family." You pledged. It was so sad.

"You're my family. What are you talking about?" He sat on his knees, kissing your hands. He proposed to you on one knee. Good memories.

"But you want kids. And we lost the older one. Remember?" You reminded him. His eyes darkened.

"I remember. But that does not prevent me from not being with you. I can't even imagine my life without you." He implied and caressed your cheek.

"I love you Joe." You silently wailed and he leaned closer to you.

"And I love you." He toned. "Listen, how about going upstairs and lay? I'll be there in a few, I have to fix the table." He smiled and you nodded.

You closed the door behind your bedroom, changed to your nighty and laid on the bed, calling your mum.

"Hey mum." You said.

"Hello darling, how are you?" She asked. You didn't reply. "Um.." she started. "You tried again, didnt you?" She knew about your lack of fertility.

"Yes, it was negative." You answered.

"What did he say?" She somehow didn't really like Joe, but Joe didn't give a shit.

"He's nothing but a supportive and patient husband." You nod your head feeling great for being his wife.

"And what are you going to do now?" She curiously asked.

"Try again, I guess..." You implored.

"But you've seen that sex won't help you get pregnant." she decreed.

"And where are you getting with it? Doing medical procedures in cold laboratories?" You gasped.

"Keep that method, it almost happened. Your husband has money to afford it." she had the nerve to instruct.

"It's not only his money, but mine too. We both work. We'll both raise this baby." You corrected her. "I just called you to let you know it was one more unsuccessful try. You won't know about it by the day you'll see me with a baby in my arms." You elaborated and hang up your phone without hearing her answer.

Five minutes later, Joe came to your bedroom. He took off his clothes and went inside your bathroom, taking a shower. It didn't last long and he was next to you, on his towel, around his waist. He sat next to you when his big palms caressed your stomach. That move made you whimper.

"Don't cry, it'll happen." He really is an optimist person. He wiped off some of your tiny tears ready to escape from your eyes. "I don't know if it's the appropriate time, but do you want us to try again? Or should we go for in vitro fertilization?" He gently asked.

"I don't want IVF, I don't feel comfortable there. Only with you." You disclosed and he came closer to your face kissing you gently.

His big hands caressed you everywhere. You looked so tiny beneath him, however it made you feel important. Your hands kept touching his attractive biceps until he removed the towel around him, staying naked on top of you. With one move, he removed your nighty and massaged your breasts, when his face leaned towards your neck, giving you soft kisses. He finally removed your underwear and trusted inside you. His moans were so deep and his eyes locked in you. Your arms, around his neck and his back, giving small nail scratches.

"I love you Joe." You moaned between the thrusts you received.

"I love you too y/n ..." He softly said when you felt him moving deeper. He knew every inch of your body. Literally. He knew how deep you could take him and how much. "Babe, are you close?" He asked making sure you'd finish too.

"Yes..." You moaned kissing his lips.

"Alright, because I am." he caressed your cheek and his moves were sudden and slow, which means he was done inside you, possibly fertilizing you. You came together and after removing himself from you, he wore his underwear and helped you get your clothes too. He covered you with the layers and hugged you tight.

"I hope this time it's happening." You said at his arms.

"Fingers crossed." He smiled at you.

You were the little spoon tonight; Joe was hugging you from behind and you felt protected. This is how he makes you feel everytime you're together. You're just made for each other.

You woke up in the middle of the night, sweating and frightened of your nightmare. You stood up from your bed crying loudly. Joe next to you grabbed a bottle of water, you always have at your stand, offering it. He gently rubbed your back telling you to calm down, it was just a bad dream, it's not reality. But what if it really is? What if you really are infertile? You were on the edge of going insane. He pulled you closer, playing with your hair so you'd eventually return to your sleep.

The next morning, Joe wasn't next to you. He probably went downstairs, making breakfast. You had to get ready and see him at the kitchen. But you heard speeches coming from there as you walked the stairs so you decided to eavesdrop. There was your younger brother Ben talking with him. That's how you actually met each other. Ben set you up.

"How's things?" Ben asked. You didn't really talk to him about you and Joe but Joe does. They are like best friends.

"Terrible." Joe admitted and Ben looked at him confused. "I mean, I love her but we keep failing on growing our family." He explained and took a sip of his coffee.

"How long have you been trying?" He asked preoccupied.

"Since the wedding night, counting three years." He declared.

"I've heard my mother talking with y/n about it but I didn't really pay attention. However, how do you feel about it?" Ben questioned.

"I can't blame y/n about this, it's happening to many women but I also can't see myself without kids." He opened up to his best friend. You instantly felt heart broken.

"And then what? Will you divorce her because of that? She loves you more than anything Joe." Ben explained.

"I can't divorce her. She's my everything. But I also don't want to keep trying. I want to have babies in this big house as soon as possible. I don't want to age." He shook his head broken hearted.

"You do feel sad about it. Do you have any idea how sadder it is for her? A baby is a bless." Ben protested. You wanted to hear more. They'd stop the conversation if you appeared in the kitchen.

"I'm not pressuring her. When we did the IVF, we were sure it'd happen but it died too. How many possibilities does she have when she gets older? Less than they already are." Joe questioned himself. Ben didn't say a thing.

You decided to get inside the kitchen, pretend like you heard nothing.

"Good morning sis." Ben smiled at you.

"Morning Ben." You neutrally said, faking what you thought before. You couldn't hide your anger at Joe's confession.

"Good morning my love." Joe attempted kissing you but you backed off. Both of them noticed your reaction and stared each other confused. "So um, are you okay?" He checked on you.

"I'm perfect." You lied. You're dying inside.

"Maybe I should get going." Ben felt the tense and had to leave.

"Yes you should. I'll take you to the door." You raised you eyebrow at him.

You were with Ben at the door and Joe eavesdropped without being noticeable.

"The next time you'll talk with Joe about my lack of fertility, I'll murder you." You threatened him.

"You know you can't do it sis." He joked.

"I can't, but I can cut your balls and you'll see who's the weak." You aggressively said to him and he didn't say a word.

"Damn sis, okay." He was defeated and left your home leaving you with your husband.

He came out of the kitchen guilty. But it wasn't his fault. You just wanted to throw your weight somewhere else.

"You heard us?" He silently asked.

"Are you joking? Of course I did. Is that what you talk about with your friends outside?" You angrily argued.

"No! He asked me! Besides he's your brother, he can know about it." he pointed out.

"I don't want him to know! I won't even let my mother know from now!" You attacked.

"Fine! But he's my best friend! I want to talk to someone! Why don't you let me do it? I never pressure you so stop pressuring me!" He shouted leaving you at a staring shock.

"I want you to leave right now Joe." You silently closed your eyes pointing at the door. "And tell everyone we can't have kids because I am infertile." You were so ironic.

"Where will I go? Are you kicking me out of my home?" He concede.

"Yes I do and don't come back. I'm angry." You walked inside the kitchen and he followed you.

"But you'll be over it by evening." He calmly said.

"No I fucking won't!" You threw him a glass and it accidentally fell down at his feet, with some pieces of glass hurting his arms.

"You arrogant bitch!" He yelled coming to your place menacingly. "You want to kill me now or what?" He raised your hand on you and covered yourself with your arms, afraid if he'd hit you. Flashbacks of domestic violence crossed your mind. Your alcoholic father hitting you in every chance he'd get.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, sorry!" You sat down at the floor, crying loudly and hiding yourself, so he wouldn't harm your body but your arms.

After Joe finding out what he was doing he shockingly moved his arms and sat in front of you, getting you inside his arms. He started crying too.

"I am sorry y/n, I didn't mean to do it! I'm just so sad." He whimpered at your neck.

"Please Joe, divorce me. I can't keep making you unhappy." You cried at his chest, avoiding the eye contact.

"I can't do it. I love you, I'm literally attached to you, mentally, emotionally and physically. I just can't." He kissed you. "We'll find some way to fix it. We can do it, I know." He silently cried, hiding his voice cracks.

#BoRhap #bohemian rhapsody #joe mazzello #joe mazzello smut #joe mazzello x female reader #smut-prompts #joe mazzello x y/n #john deacon #roger taylor #ben hardy #queen #gwilym lee #brian may #rami malek #freddie mercury

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downtonabbeyrevisited · 5 years

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Series One - Episode Seven

One thing that seasoned Downton viewers will know is that either the plot moves so fast that you get whiplash moving from point to point and have to perform a fair amount of mental gymnastics to recall single lines that were (canonically speaking) made months and sometimes years ago, or it’s so slow that you think you’ve slipped into a coma and are having a strange dream about the coming of electricity. This instalment is a whopping 65 minutes long and defiantly falls into the former category of episode. Don’t be fooled by the slow start of dusting chandeliers, every single plot point that King Julian has ever thought of is about to be covered in rapid succession whilst the July 1914 stamped ominously at the bottom of the screen indicates that the shit is about to get real. The main topic of conversation in Downton Village is apparently the murder of the Austrian Arch-duke. Who knew that rural Yorkshire with its still broadly illiterate population during this time period was so switched on to international relations?

William’s mother has (predictably) died and Anna has made an armband which is utterly indistinguishable from his livery in her honour. Another soul unable to appreciate this is Mrs Patmore who is now so blind that it has been brought to the attention of those who dwell upstairs. Mrs Patmore is summoned to the library where she collapses into the nearest available chair after chewing off Robert’s ear and he arranges to send her up to London. I doubt this was quite the reaction he was expecting but there we go. In Beryl’s absence, Mrs Bird comes to hold the fort and test Daisy’s loyalties to provide a bit of light relief in what is, when you think about it, quite a grim episode.

Despite being slow on the uptake, Daisy soon gets into the swing of launching the Downton scullery equivalent of chemical warfare whilst Mrs Bird makes disparaging comments about the kitchen and staff. But Daisy soon falls foul of a bit of bait and switch and only succeeds in almost giving Thomas’ colon a thorough clean out.

Whilst Mrs Patmore sits in Moorfields reeling at the fact that cataracts can’t be removed by whatever the 1914 equivalent of homeopathy is, Anna is determined to get to the bottom of why Bates was in prison. Thomas and O’Brien’s written confirmation of Bates’ previous misdeeds have only served to light a fire under her and with a confidence to which I can only aspire, she marches into Greenwich. Or is it Chelsea? My knowledge of barracks isn’t what it used to be despite the fact that I am typing this a stones throw away from one now. My superiors are weeping somewhere. In true British Army fashion, a man with an impressive hat brings out a massive book which he never refers to for any information that he could not hold in his head. He then gives out Mrs Bates Senior’s address 104 years before GDPR kicks in.

A meeting with Ma Bates confirms that it was Vera who stole the regimental silver rather than John but he took the fall, apparently feeling that he had ruined her life. However I can’t be the only person who is still a little unclear as to why he did go to prison for Vera as there doesn’t seem to be much evidence that he had ruined her life unless I’ve missed something, which is entirely possible. Anna returns to Downton and appeals to Robert to keep Bates on. Because he is a useful character for pivoting plot points around, Robert agrees, and our favourite self-sabotaging valet lives to survive another series.

Considerably less eager to stay at Downton is Thomas who has a right old time of it this episode, roaring through all of his typical behaviours: smoking in archways, leaving tables with entire plates of food in-front of him to go and perch on a crate and plot with O’Brien, stealing from Carson in an inept manner, having at least two other characters discuss just how awful he is and finally take shots at William. Except this time, they aren’t snide remarks. These are actual shots involving pre-German sniper mangled fists. Having volunteered for the Army medical corps with Dr Clarkson, Thomas is riding high on his way out the door and makes inappropriate marks about a combination of dead mothers and babies. William takes him on and the two roll around a bit on a table then the floor. Carson calls for a halt but doesn’t actually intervene: its up to the Irish Radical to bring about peace. Some irony there one feels.

But perhaps Carson’s inaction is connected to the emotional upheaval that of course comes with owning a telephone. I should know; mine has been on ‘Do Not Disturb’ for at least a year now. Presumably seeing the phone as an affront to his skills as a butler, there are a fair number amount of him looking perplexed at the new arrival. But with a bit of practice under his belt, he is ready to reluctantly shuffle into the twentieth century. Oh I do love him.

The coming of the telephone is good news for Gwen through who manages to bag herself an interview out of its installation in the Abbey. However she neglects to say that she was a housemaid on her application form. The manager of the company scoffs at this upon learning she works at Downton “you thought that would put me off!”. Well yes, because less then twenty minutes ago you were bemoaning the fact that you couldn’t find any secretaries with experience which is what you needed. King Julian is now struggling to maintain continuity within an episode never mind between. Lord.

After 18 years, and presumably a lot of hormonal shifting, Cora is pregnant. Robert sounds incredulous and frankly, we all are. Robert doesn’t understand what’s been done differently to bring about this major shift in plot, but Cora brings him to an abrupt halt before he can pick along any further down that particular line of enquiry and an entire nation, nay the world, exhales. However Foetus C’s appearance on the scene coincides with the departure of Simmons and through a convoluted chain of events, their fates are inextricably linked. O’Brein overhears that a new lady’s maid is required and immediately jumps head first into the wrong end of the stick. But to be fair to her, Violet and Cora seem to only talk about their quest when either Thomas or O’Brien are in earshot which is asking for trouble really. But that does not excuse O’Brien committing infanticide by proxy via the medium of Imperial Leather. With a bar of poor quality soap that breaks alarmingly easily and an off-screen yelp, it’s all over and another massive plot point that has a whole lifecycle within less than an episode.

Although Foetus C didn’t hang around long, he made quite the impact and along with the influence of Aunt Rosamund manages to unsettle the romance that Matthew and Mary have been carefully cultivating since Episode One. St James Park provides a backdrop for Rosamund, following the tradition of all Aunts worldwide, to winkle out the truth about their nieces and nephew’s love lives. As they glide through London, and pass two men sat on a bench trying to divert the apocalypse, Rosamund plants the seeds of doubt that will eventually blossom into a full blown crisis in about thirty minutes time with the mere suggestion that Mary might have to live in a cottage.

With the prospect of another male heir on the horizon, Matthew considers moving back to Manchester but not before he can have the first of two emotionally charged conversations under a tree. Matthew witters on about ‘prospects’ whilst Mary looks increasingly desperate. That tree and the accompanying bench have seen an awful lot of drama: people have sobbed under it, plotted beside it and stared artfully into the middle distance beneath its shadow and its only series one.

But even when it’s clear that Matthew’s inheritance is not in danger, he returns to the tree with Mary to assert the fact that he is leaving Downton for reasons that I can’t entirely fathom but are mainly based around the fact that he doesn’t want to be socially engineered and that he can’t be sure of anything. Wearing the world’s most pointless gloves, Mary covers her face and weeps in what is fast becoming a signature move. The ‘tree’ scenes between her and Matthew have been a real chance for both actors to get their teeth into a bit of decent uninterrupted dialogue. I have loved Michelle Dockery since she stole my twelve year old heart as Susan in Hogfather and she has not failed me yet.

Carson comes to comforts Mary under the ’tree of emotional conflict’ and in one shot we have captured the charm of Downton. Ahh. Now, back onto the nonsense.

The garden party is suddenly upon us and with it, the tying up of as many loose ends as possible just incase the series isn’t renewed. Hold onto your hats folks! Mrs Patmore returns in a cracking pair of sunglasses, Clarkson gives Thomas his papers who then promptly resigns, William and Daisy reconcile, Mrs Hughes warns Branson off Sybil whilst Sir Anthony pegs it out of Downton before Edith is allowed any measure of happiness, O’Brein attends to Cora’s every need and then learns that she was never in the firing line anyway, Branson plucks up the courage to answer a telephone, Gwen gets the job and proceeds to hug Branson and Sybil hug in a manner that you would think would be enough to cause a scandal, we learn of Ma Bates’ approval of Anna but Bates is still a stubborn idiot , Mr Moseley wants to crack on with Anna and if you squint a bit Downton Abbey briefly looks like The Villa. Oh and WW1 breaks out.

Romantic declaration of the moment

“I’d say he’s keen. Very keen indeed” Well then TeLl HeR JohN! Anna and Bates must be up there for slow-burn romance of the millennia and for my money is a better love story than Mary and Matthew but that could just be my gritty scots and northern heritage rooting for the little guy.

Expressive eyebrow of the week

Robert won last episode but nevertheless his face during the menopause chat with the accompanying “please” wins this one. THIS is why Fleabag Season 2 Episode 3 had to happen.

Wait, what?

“Is there anything worse than losing one’s maid” Erm…maybe the oncoming death of 17 million people with 11.5% of the British Army told by the upper echelons of society to walk slowly towards the guns?

“Oy” is Mrs Patmore Jewish?

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to sit in your presence my lord” That is a surprising amount of respect from someone who only two episodes fed him a chicken that had both been on the floor and nibbled by a cat….

“Try not to miss me, it will be good practice” Bates is a lovely man but ultimately he is a masochistic twat.

“First electricity, now telephones. Sometimes I feel as if I were living in a H.G. Wells novel” Julian really does reserve his best for Maggie.

“I’m not much good at building my life on shifting sands” Calm down, Matthew.

“He had a right to know how his countryman died, in the arms of a slut” Calm down, Edith.

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star-trekkin-across-theuniverse · 5 years

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Five Minute Ficlet

Based on a true story

XxX

When you’d requested a consult on an elderly patient with an abnormal growth on his forehead, you hadn’t expected Doctor Leonard McCoy to stroll into your clinic. When you double checked the chart on the patient, it made more sense. The old man you affectionately called Pops was actually a retired Starfleet Admiral.

“Fill me in, Lt. Y/L/N,”

“Well, Pops comes in once a week for a vitamin supplement by hypo. That freckle on his forehead has been on my watch list for about a year, but the growth has really sped up in the last month or so,” you explained. “When I scanned it with the tricorder, it was identified as cancerous. Pops just wants it removed, which, as you know, requires surgery. No laser will get that.”

Doctor McCoy leaned in and assessed your patient’s forehead, nodding. “Good call. I’ll prep my kit. You can assist?”

A telltale bead of sweat trickled down your back and you cursed your physiology, but nodded. “Absolutely. It’s been ages since I’ve scrubbed in, but I’m sure you’ll direct me?”

“Of course. I don’t see the point in sending the Admiral over to a clinic where the nurses are unfamiliar to him for something so minor,” he nodded. “You’re a little flushed, are you alright?”

“Hot flash,” you admitted. His brows furrowed in disbelief.

“You’re hardly old enough -”

“I assure you, I’m plenty old enough. But thank you for the compliment,” you teased, interrupting him. “It’s early days, so these are passing quickly enough. I’ll get Pops set up for you?”

“Thank you,” Doctor McCoy nodded. “Now Admiral, the lieutenant is going to help out while I cut that freckle off your forehead. I’ll numb the area, but you tell me if you feel any pain, and I can always add more numbing for you. You’ll probably need three stitches when I’m done, but the lieutenant -”

“Her name is Y/N. We don’t stand on ceremony here, Doc. And you can call me Dave,” Pops interrupted. Doctor McCoy smiled and nodded.

“Of course. So Y/N is going to keep an eye on that wound, and I’m going to want you to pop in once a day for three days after. In about ten days, she can take the stitches out. I’ll be around for about three more months, so if there’s any complications, she’ll give me a call and I’ll come check on you. That okay with you?” Doctor McCoy continued.

“Get to see my favourite nurse every day? No problem at all, Doc,” Pops smiled, winking in your direction.

“If you’re ready, Doctor McCoy, I’ve got everything set here,” you offered.

Subcutaneous injections were still the preferred method of pre-operative numbing, you recalled as Doctor McCoy prepared a syringe full of lidocaine. The dispersal of the fluid was superior to a hypo injection, and would have better coverage if Doctor McCoy needed to cut more tissue than initially assessed.

As you watched the injection, you realized your hot flash was not abating. You back was damp with sweat, and your brow was starting to drip down into your eyes. You ignored it, hoping it would stop soon, and refocussed on Doctor McCoy as he cut into Pops’ forehead. Blood welled up quickly and you passed the doctor some gauze to clear it so he could see what he was doing. He continued, carving an eye-shaped piece of skin out of Pops’ forehead with the cancerous growth at the centre. You held open the sample container for the excised tissue, and twisted it closed, concentrating on anticipating Doctor McCoy’s needs rather than the sweat dripping into the waistband of your pants.

Doctor McCoy moved the gauze to start suturing the wound and an arc of blood spurted from the wound on Pops’ forehead across the bed, landing on your arm. It wasn’t enough to really notice, particularly as your skin was easily as hot as the blood spatter, thanks to the goddamn hot flash that wasn’t ceasing. Doctor McCoy quickly covered the wound as another short spurt of blood arced across the bed toward you.

“Capillary?” You asked. He nodded, applying pressure. He prepared his suturing needle quickly with one hand while continuing to apply pressure to the wound, and then pulled back the gauze again. The blood was just pooling instead of arcing, and you suddenly noticed an absence of the overwhelming heat you’d been feeling. You were very cold. Very cold, and the ringing in your ears that had started with the hot flash had changed to a static-like white noise. The periphery of your vision started to go black.

“Y/N, are you okay? You’re very pale,” Doctor McCoy commented.

“I think it’s just the hot flash?” You replied. Pops had threaded his fingers in your own when Doctor McCoy had started, and was still clinging to you. You needed to be there for him. You swayed a little, and your vision got a little narrower.

“I think you’re having a vaso-vagal episode, sweetheart. You should sit down,” he suggested. You hooked your foot in a chair and pulled it toward you, sitting down beside Pops and dropped your head between your knees, taking deep steady breaths. You head was swimming, and as much as it horrified and embarrassed you, you realized the doctor was right. The white noise in your ears was so much that you didn’t realize that Doctor McCoy was in front of you until he touched your shoulder.

You looked up at him, humiliation written all over your face.

“I’m so sorry,” you started. He shook his head, waving it off.

“You’re an outpatient clinic. How often do you assist with surgery?” He asked.

“Well, this is probably the first time in,” you paused, “well, ever? I just. I failed you as a nurse. I should have been okay. It was just a little blood.”

“And your normal scope for here is to manage labs and maintain the health of the residents in your quadrant so they don’t clog up the urgent care clinics?” He asked.

“Yes?”

“And you work without the supervision of a doctor because your judgement and skill level is trusted?” He continued.

“Yes,” you nodded. He smiled and patted your knee.

“Then don’t worry. No one likes to see blood. And if you’re Dave’s favourite nurse, it suggests a friendship, and it’s even harder to see your friends vulnerable. Trust me, I know,” he smiled. “That said, I’d like to give you a quick assessment. Despite your protestations that you are of advanced enough age to be starting menopause, you’re really a little early, and I’d like to run some quick tests. And then just humour me a little longer. Vaso-vagal syncope can be an indicator of something more amiss than just queasiness at the sight of blood.”

“I really think I’m fine,” you protested, embarrassed still.

“Humour me please, Y/N,” he asked.

“This is so mortifying,” you complained. Doctor McCoy smiled again, his eyes crinkling attractively at the corners. You looked at him and noticed for the first time how handsome he was, and then your embarrassment intensified. So not only had you made a fool of yourself in front of a doctor, but it was in front of a hot doctor. You wanted to melt into the floor. Instead, you hopped up on the biobed beside the one Pops was in, and let the doctor work.

The steady rhythm of your heart rate reassured you that you were fine, and you pointed at the monitor above your head with a smug look. Doctor McCoy arched his eyebrow and pulled your chart up on his PADD.

“Good lord, woman, you’re barely older than me. This is far to early for menopause!” he exclaimed.

“The women in my family have always started in their early forties,” you shrugged.

“Then then women in your family have always been treated by idiot who haven’t a clue about women’s bodies,” he countered. “I’m going to run a complete panel, including hormone levels on you, and I’m referring you to Anishka Polatoff. She’s the best gynaecologist Startfleet has to offer.”

“You think it’s so serious you need to refer me to a different physician?” you asked, doubtful.

“More because I’d like to take you out for drinks and I don’t want to violate the sanctity of the doctor-patient relationship,” he smiled.

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friendly-neighborhood-disaster · 6 years

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Actual things that happened to me as an election check in judge yesterday

None of the computers were synced together so the whole day our ballot counts were way off

Multiple ADULTS- fully grown men and women- were yelling at the site manager because we ran out of “I voted” stickers at 4:00 and only had Spanish stickers

One of the workers was complaining about all the men who had their babies in carriers because “thirty years ago you’d NEVER see a man holding the babies”

A woman was wearing a Trump 2020 shirt. I told her she needed to zip up her sweatshirt to cover the message because it was electioneering

Said woman rolled her eyes at me and stomped away like it was my fault that it’s illegal to not have campaign material at polling places. I was doing her a favor by telling her about it because otherwise she’d be turned away

Like it’s illegal at any polling place but our site was a church where it’s another crime entirely if you electioneer there. So I gave her an opportunity to not break like three voting laws and somehow that made ME the bad guy

People kept yelling and complaining about Illinois not requiring IDs to check in because “well than anyone could pretend they’re me and steal my vote”. Listen Linda, you’re not that fucking important where someone is going to learn how to forge your signature (and yes we have signatures on record that we check to make sure it’s a match) and memorize your address so they can steal your vote for the goddamned county clerk

Walking menopause shoved her license in my face even after I told her that we didn’t need it to check her in because she “refused to have my voting right spoiled by a non-American.” Whatever that’s supposed to mean

Some lady had a campaign shirt on and somehow none of us noticed u til she tried turning in her ballot. Site manager said he couldn’t let her do it because she was electioneering at our church polling place. She started screaming at him and telling him he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. They argued for over ten minutes and he threatened to call the police because other people stopped voting as they were too distracted by her tantrum

I processed this old couple like maybe an hour after the polls opened. Got the guy checked in no problem. The woman’s info in our system said she was an inactive voter. I tried directing her to our voter services table where they could fix the problem in less than five minutes. Instead she throws her wallet on the ground and screams “FUCK IT. GUESS IM NOT FUCKING VOTING THEN”

Again I try and tell her what her options are while a bunch of people start staring at us. She slams her hand on the table and is jabbing her finger inches from my face. She’s accusing me of messing with the computer. I tell her sometimes the info is wrong but that it’d be a super easy fix. She’s swearing again and storms away without voting

An old guy came up to our table and my father (who was also working check in table) said he could check the guy in. The man said no then came to my line. When it was his turn he said he came to me because “I was the prettiest worker at the table.” He starts laughing for way too long at what he said. I didn’t respond because I was weirded out. He repeats what he said and laughs again before stating “it’s my lucky day”. I checked his year of birth. This fucker is 65 years older than me and I can’t tell him to fuck off with his inappropriate comments because I was at work

We got there at 5:15 am and didn’t leave until 8:15 pm

At least our governor is a democrat again

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mrsmercyjevans · 6 years

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Six and Counting.

INVOLVED: Mercedes Evans and Samuel Evans. LOCATION: Dr. Barrett Office; Miami, Florida. TIME FRAME: Flashback. NOTES: Mercedes thinks she started menopause early.

Mercedes sat in the office pondering the next phases of her life as she did. After much self-examining for the past 3 weeks, and her endless debates with Samuel she gave in and finally did the thing she rarely liked to do. She made an appointment to see her doctor after showing signs of early onset Menopause. She was dreading this visit this whole entire week she found herself trying to make excuse after excuse not to come, she used the kids, the organization, Samuel’s new profound line of work, at some point of time she even tried to use her parents as an excuse not to come. She was a mess, and a complete wreck in others eyes she was sure. Sighing heavily into the room with Samuel she sat there waiting for her doctor to return with the horrible news that her youth had depleted and she had now crossed over to a part of her life that deemed her old, washed up, and useless.

Samuel tapped his foot restlessly against the carpeted floor of the OBGYN’S office. For all intents and purposes, he was actually fine with this new turn of events. They had 6 children already and long past the desire to have anymore. Point of fact, he knew for certain they couldn’t. After Seth was born they decided adoption would be the route they used to increase their family. So, for two years Sam diligently strapped up when they played. However, at year 4 he started missing the application of condoms here and there. You didn’t get married to use rubbers after all. This lackadaisical approach, eventually graduated into no condoms more often than not. He never mentioned this to Mercedes. She was content with not having any more children, but if she knew for certain they couldn’t… well he was sure there would have been a anxiety at the least. Now, with one glance at Mercedes he knew he was right. She was coming apart, he knew, even if it was masked behind that perfectly pulled together face. That was the thing about being married, most of the time happily. You knew your partner like the back of your hand. And right now, his knuckles itched. “Babe?” He said reaching over to take her hand. “You know what this means right?” he asked giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

Mercedes looked over to Samuel “hm?” she asked having been in her own head the entire time. She laced their fingers together and replied without hesitation “the end of my youth?” she asked him. “The beginning of me being less than a woman… not as if I were ever completely one to begin with” she said looking off from him. “I am okay with the possibility of never having children again, after Seth I felt that maybe three blessings were exactly that, three blessings and I didn’t need to push the envelope” she ranted. “But this is a bit excessive now” she sighed again. “I already feel old, I don’t need my body to start turning on me now” she said angrily. “I have sisters older than me, that haven’t even gone through this yet themselves” she said shaking her head as she shifted her heel covered feet.

Samuel sighed sadly. “Babe, not a word of that is true. When I stopped playing football, I felt like less of a man. But you reminded me this was just a transition. I was still every bit Samuel-motherfucking-Evans. The same applies here” he said a pleading tone in his voice. He swallowed his sexual japes. They wouldn't serve, not right now. He turned to her, “No babe, stop and breathe” he said hands going to either side of her face. “This is a part of life, don't make it more the that. Okay?”

Mercedes looked to Samuel as he spoke, she felt differently it wasn’t the same. Women were supposed to carry children and then along the line, preferably when they were over the hill they lost that opportunity. Football was a gift of his, but it didn’t have to be his calling. He was good at other things as well. She always thought she’d be a mother, and she were, but she didn’t like her body betraying the possibility of that furthering. As he held her face she averted her eyes, “okay” she agreed though it was hard to do what he was asking.

Entering the room after a double knock Dr. Barrett moved towards the desk file in hand. “Hey, I’m back with those results” she said cheerfully, though she were normally upbeat anyway. “So… after looking everything over. You definitely are not experiencing early onset menopause like you think” she told Mercedes looking to her directly. “That’s the funny thing, doctors make for the worst patience because they are always self-diagnosing” she said biting her lip a bit. “We did find something however….” she trailed off.

Samuel held Mercedes gaze, watching as she turned his advice over in her mind. He had a fifty-fifty shot it would take root. And her murmured okay did little to convince him she had. Nevertheless, he leaned in and kissed her tenderly on the lips. Breaking the kiss, “it will be fine” he said placing his forehead against hers. Drawing back, in his chair, “Doctor” he greeted as she entered the room oddly cheerful. He smiled at Mercedes, grabbing her hand again at the doctor’s pronouncement. “Thank the Lord” he said out loud glad to be putting off the menopause emotions for a while longer. “What did you find? It's not cancer or anything?” He asked alarmed.

Mercedes nodded her head at her husband, she just needed to calm down she didn’t know why she were so emotional anyway. She kissed him back soundly, finding comfort in it. As the woman walked into the room Mercedes gave her all of her attention tucking hair behind her ear. “Thank God” she said in unison with Samuel, the woman was right Mercedes was always diagnosing someone with something. That she couldn’t help one bit however. At the doctors next words, she paused, hearing her husband’s plea she looked to the woman “oh my God it can’t be that” she rushed out frantically. “You know what if it’s that I don’t want to know” she said looking to her expectantly.

Barrett looked at the two and she shook her head. “No, it is not cancer trust me, don’t even think like that” she warned them both. “Mercedes is extremely healthy, blood pressure a little high yes, but that is to be expected” she said before she told them both. “Because Mercedes is pregnant” she smiled at them. “No ailment, no disease, nothing crazy” she listed. “Just a baby…” she said to them both.

“Thank God!” Samuel said slumping bodily in the chair. His relief, however, dissipated as the doctor mouthed words he never thought to here again in his life. He clenched frozen in place. Unblinking he glared at the doctor, his mind wholly rejecting every part of what the woman said. There had to be some mistake. His mouth gaped to the point spittle began collecting in the corner of his jaw, threatening to run out over his fleshy lips. He snapped his mouth closed then swallowed repeatedly bringing his tongue back to life. “She’s what!” He sputtered harshly once he found his voice.

When the woman threw out Samuel’s cancer theory Mercedes sighed again resting her hand against her heart. They had 6 kids and she thought she was old, however she was very young and simply had no time to fight for her life now. It was too much going on already. At least that’s what she thought to herself before the actual culprit that was causing her so much concern was announced. Having had her eyes closed Mercedes popped them open and dropped her hand in her lap, her head slowly turned just as her husband decided to speak up again. “That’s impossible” Mercedes said glaring at him. “Because I know for a fact” she said through clenched teeth. She only asked that he did one thing for her in return for all she had to do every day, and that were to wear condoms faithfully. After Seth she just wasn’t comfortable with dealing with some of the effects of birth control and she didn’t keep up with them anyway. She assumed she should have checked, but he was her husband what else were he doing but scratching his ass and watching sports in any other part of the day. “He’s used protection regularly” she said still glaring at Samuel boring holes in his face before she finally looked back to her doctor, “so run those test again, or check the name on the file. Because that’s wrong.”

Samuel strained fighting with all his might not to acknowledge his wife’s glare. “Mhm, that's right!” He agreed eagerly, “There must be some mistake!” He parroted. 10 years… 10 whole motherfucking years, they hadn't had some much as a pregnancy scare. There was no way in hell after all this time she could be pregnant. He bit down on his lips stifling his nerves, shaking his head eagerly as Mercedes demanded a retest.

Dr. Barrett looked at the two, it was quite interesting to see them live and in action. It confirmed what she already knew about them both, that the television did not cause them to act differently, this is just who they were. She giggled slightly and shook her head “the test have been checked and double checked” she said with a wink. “It’s not uncommon for women your age to conceive naturally” she commented. “And perhaps, Mr. Evans just made a minor mistake” she measured on her fingers. “I know that you’ve had difficulties in the past… but… we still can’t really confirm definitely if the fertility treatments really paid off when you conceived Samuel Jr. or if your body just… corrected itself naturally and did what it was already made to do” she said trying to smooth things over. “Babies are nothing shy of a miracle you know” she tagged on as she gathered all the pamphlets, informational printouts, and more from the folder that she wanted to give them.

7 kids… another miracle. Checked and double checked… confirmed. Another kid. Samuel sunk into the chair his long legs gapped open, a lofted foot laying on its side. “But it’s been ten years.” He murmured, mouth going slack once more. He's often wanted a football team sized family. But that was before SJ, Sean, with a minor dose of Seth were a terrorizing reality. And his girls… 3 gorgeous girls, he'd be forced to kill over before he died. “This is really happening?”

Mercedes ran her hands through her hair trying to wrap her brain around everything the woman was saying. Mercedes leg being to bounce without her really trying to do so. She shook her head slowly, “I can’t believe this” she said sighing to herself. “I thought I was going through menopause and all the while I am pregnant. I might’ve preferred the damn menopause” she cursed accidentally as she begin to become angry at the thought again.

Still amused Barrett said “well, you guys can take these home with you and rest on it? And then we can get you guys back in for a sonogram and maybe we discuss options or plans of action?” She said sympathetically to them both.

“No, no” Mercedes said quickly to the woman. “Please let's just get this over with today. I mean… I think I really need to know or see this” she told the woman. “Because I just can’t wrap my brain around this honestly.”

Samuel ran his fingers through his hair as he sat up in chair. He bent at the waist as if his stomach hurt. He did look to Mercedes then, feeling sick with remorse. He reached over and touched her leg. Trying to ground himself in this moment.

Barrett looked to Mercedes and nodded “you sure you guys don’t need just a small moment?” She asked reassuringly. After a moment, she said “okay. Well I’ll get things prepared for you guys and have a nurse come get you, so we can get a look at the fetus” she said. “And then we will come back in my office and have a little discussion” she told them both as she moved to stand up with Mercedes file collecting everything. Dr. Barrett left the room quietly closing the door behind herself.

Samuel’s hand continued to gently move up and down Mercedes leg. All he could do was offer the doctor a pitiful nod as she collected her things and left the room. The years had been kind to Samuel he stayed in the gym. So, he maintained the stiff muscle tone his wife loved so much, with only a hit of extra garth around his midsection. Sadly, right now, his size did little to cull his fear. The anger actually radiated off his wife, in hot waves. The click of the door closing behind the doctor might as well have been the open bell for Mike Tyson… “Babe, I...?”

Mercedes leg stop shaking as soon as the woman left the room. “I’m not mad” she tossed out staring at the wall behind the doctor's desk. She was lying through her teeth, but she said it anyway, brushing his hand off of her leg in the process. “I don’t want to be touched on” she explained. “How could you Sam?” She asked him. “It was the only thing I asked you to do, the only thing” she exclaimed looking over at him. “When did you stop and why didn’t you tell me? And why did you stop?” She said confused.

Samuel blew out a long hard breath. “Yeah you are... “ He said sucking his teeth. Her pushing his hand from her thigh only confirmed her rage. “How could I what babe? Have sex with my wife? Damn, I’m not perfect. Sometimes I’d forget.” He slapped his hand against his forehead. “Shit 10 years? I figured by now I was shooting blanks. I can’t believe this shit... I just can’t believe this shit” he rambled.

Mercedes continued to look at Samuel as he explained himself to her, and not in a very clear and understandable way. But after thinking about the way he worded his statement she turned her head “oh” she dragged out as she nodded her head slowly. “Makes sense” she lied “men’s logic” she added as she rolled her eyes at him. “Because you think I couldn’t get pregnant anyway… you figured why even bother after a point of time?” she asked not needing him to confirm it, actually she didn’t want him to. “Don’t answer that” she said moving to stand up from her chair, she grabbed her Chanel bag moving for the door, she thought about what she was doing, and she sighed rolling her eyes at herself. Moving to sit back down she licked her lips “I’m not mad” she repeated again, softer this time and actually telling the full truth. “I should have just taken the birth control, I should have never given you all the responsibility” she said damming herself for even believing he could do a simple thing, he didn’t find it necessary, and she never required him to very often. She just wished he honored her damn wishes. She was on the verge of crying she was so irritated, but she kept it together despite.

Samuel clenched his jaw and stared ahead, and she laid out his private thoughts to him. She was right, but she made it sound disgusting and completely dishonorable. He tapped on large foot against the carpet irritated as she stood to leave the room. But remained silent even then. What could he say, “Look I’m sorry I should have been more careful” he said truthfully after she returned to her seat. Even though the words didn’t confirm or deny the truth of her statement about him. He didn’t really need it to. He knew her mind was made up anyway. “We don’t have to keep this baby.” He finally said, quietly. “We already have six kids and who knows what a pregnancy now would be like.”

Mercedes looked up at the ceiling, she opened her mouth to reply to him a few times, but her lips kept closing repeatedly. As the water in her eyes begin to distort her vision she figured her efforts to suppress her crying was void and she just let the tears fall despite her trying so hard not to. “That would be so cruel and heartless” she sniffled out, lashes on the verge of peeling right off as crocodile tear after the next rolled down her cheek. She snatched a tissue up from the woman’s desk as she tried to pat her face dry “I can’t believe you’d suggest that” she said barely audible behind all her tears, sniffles, and small sobs. “Why am I crying like this” she said frustrated, to herself as she rummaged through her bag for her compact mirror.

Samuel sighed defeated. Maybe it would be cruel, but his mind was too cluttered with worry and shock to think clearly. “It’s an option, that’s all I’m saying” he stated voice flat and lifeless. The thrum of his heart in his ears made him feel queasy so he sat forward again, head in the palm of his hands. “It's done we are pregnant, apparently. But I didn’t try to do this to hurt or trick you. Shit it’s been ten years” he stressed for the second time. “I know the idea might sicken you, but we should at least consider it.”

Mercedes pat her face dry, she really didn’t know why she were crying she could assume hormones were the cause. “Sam, I know my options” she replied simply, she didn’t need him to tell her that. “Let’s get to step B first” she said balling up the tissue in her hand “before you move to step c, d, e, f, and g” she listed. “Considering aborting a baby why? You haven’t even given me a reason to do something so heinous, you are just throwing that out there because you don’t know what else to say or do Sam” she said looking over at him. “That’s not comforting to me” she said gesturing to herself.

Samuel stood, then moved behind their chairs pacing. “If you want to press me on the issues, I’d say our ages to start with. Our youngest child is seven. Do we really want to start over again?” he listed out the option in a flood of words. He stopped moving to look down at his wife. “You’re right…” he moaned flopping down back into his seat. “Shit. I don’t know babe. I mean we have the money but is this really in the plans?”

“It wasn’t in the plan” she said back to him as he asked her various questions. Mercedes shook her head at Samuel “Sam just hush” she told him. “What’s done is done...” she said a knock on the door cutting her off and as a nurse walked in.

“All ready?” The younger woman asked holding the door open for them, she was fully prepared to show them to the examination room. “You can both follow me this way…”

“You know what I mean…” Samuel said in a matter of fact tone. Her dismissal caused his teeth to clinch. He knew full well the deed was done that was not the point. He opened his mouth to protest but the knock at the door caught his attention. “Sure.” He said standing to his feet, he moved to hold the door open for his wife.

Mercedes looked to the nurse and she grabbed her purse again. She didn’t know what her husband meant, and at the moment that were the least of her worries. She just needed to get her head back on her shoulders and he were not helping in that department. She walked through the door and followed the woman to the examination room designated for her and Sam. Once there she moved into it and climbed up on the counter.

“Okay” the nurse said as they entered the room. She waited for both of them to settle before she said “I am just going to check your vitals Mrs. Evans, check your temperature, and Dr. Barrett will be right in for your ultrasound” she said grabbing what she needed. She stuck the thermometer under Mercedes tongue and then applied the blood pressure cuff on Mercedes arm.

Samuel followed the woman, hand dug deep into his pockets, face a stone mask. He leaned against the wall foot pounding against the floor, when they entered the examination room instead of sitting. It occurred to him, standing there, this was a first for him. Mercedes had always learned about her pregnancies and then told him after the fact. He was in on the ground floor this time, it was a shame he wasn't happier about this turn of events.

Mercedes sat patiently nodding to the girl, she sat her bag aside and let her do her job. All of this came natural as if it were a job or hobby, she smirked, she guessed having children did sort of become a job in her life. She dropped the smirk so no one in the room noticed. Once the girl removed the thermometer and cuff, she scribbled something down. “All good?” Mercedes asked the girl.

“Yeah” the girl said as she moved to clean back up. “All good” she told her softly. “Okay, she’ll be right in” she told Mercedes as she moved to hand her a gown and the cheap imitation of a blanket they offered during these.

Mercedes nodded “thanks” she told the girl politely and she hopped down off the table. Mercedes watched the girl go and she went to change her clothing returning in the gown and she tossed her natural hair over her shoulders. Climbing back on the table she sat down once more “stop that” she said looking over at Samuel. “Stop pouting” she said looking at him “no sense in being mad over this” she shrugged. “Or at each other for that matter” she added. “No point in arguing either, I don’t want to argue with you over something like our unborn child… we aren’t those people anymore” she said looking down at her hands.

Samuel hard greens eyes softened. He pushed off the wall unfurling like some great cat, as he stepped forward. “Men don't pout. We brood. There is a difference” he growled stubbornly holding his scowl in place. She was right. She often was he had to conceded, towering over her seated on the examination table.

Mercedes looked to him again “oh” she dragged out “that’s what it’s called…” she said. “Well with whatever it’s called I wish you’d stop” she told with a smirk. “Or are you going to stay mad with me all day?” She asked.

Samuel’s green eyes devoured her hazel ones. “I’m not mad at you. I just want to keep you safe. I love you far too much to lose you because I was reckless.” He admitted, soberly. He placed both hands on the side of her neck cupping her face lightly. He kissed her permanently puckered lips tenderly.

As Samuel stared at Mercedes she stared back, “keep me safe from what?” She asked him confused. “Lose me over a baby?” she asked amused falling into his kiss lovingly.

Samuel smirked against her lips, “It’s nothing.” He said lowering his hands to her gown covered thighs giving them a squeeze. “See this how we got into this mess in the first place” he chuckled, as his lips lingered over hers.

“Because you don’t keep your hands to yourself Mr. Evans” she reminded with a smile. Mercedes grabbed Samuel’s hands and clutched onto them for dear life. As a knock was heard at the door she looked towards it “come in” she breathed out watching Dr. Barrett enter the room.

Dr. Barrett entered the room with Mercedes file. “Okay” she said to them both “let’s get started” she added kindly. “Your vitals checked out and I am happy about that” she told Mercedes as she moved to wash her hands. After doing so she put on a pair of gloves, moving over to Mercedes she said “place your feet in the stirrups” before she moved to set up.

Samuel laughed as Mercedes held his hands in place, “Sure can’t” he agreed. As she beckoned the doctor to enter he planted one finial kiss on her neck. And moved off to side as Mercedes positioned herself on the table.

Mercedes looked to her doctor and nodded her head. Leaning back against the table she then moved to place her feet in the stirrups as she were asked. She laid the blanket across her lower half. Samuel tried to move away from her, but she only clutched his hand tighter.

Barrett sat before Mercedes finally prepared, she used the transducer to get a clear image of the fetus Mercedes was carrying. After positioning the transducer in the cervix, she looked to her screen herself. “Okay” she said as the imaging cleared on the screen and she said “there’s baby A and baby B” she said slowly knowing this would be another shocker for them.

Samuel snapped back to his wife’s side, not that she gave him any choice. A smile taking over his face. He bent and rested his lips against her forehead as the doctor worked away. “I kinda love you.” He said brushing her hair way from her oval face. He looked over to the doctor confused, “Baby… What?” he asked jaw going slack.

Mercedes held her breath as Samuel leaned down to kiss her and she smirked slightly at him. “Kinda?” She asked him amused before she turned to the screen and looked for herself. “Twins?” She asked shocked. She clutched Samuel’s hand even tighter if that were possible at all. “Oh” she breathed unsure of what else to say in the moment as tears begin to fall on their own.

Barrett looked to Mercedes nodding “yes twins” she confirmed. “Congrats” she offered them “and everything checks out, so far so good. Progressing like normal” she told them both.

Samuel reached back, his free hand groping for something, anything to hold onto. “Twins. Twins…. Twins.” He mumbled, stressing the words harder each time he repeated the words. He abandoned his quest to find something behind him and gripped the side of the examination table as his knees buckled. First, he was in a three-point stance sucking in air. When that didn’t calm him, he sank to one knee. Before long he was seated beside the table, his only anchor to the world the vice like grip Mercedes had on his hand. “Twins.”

Mercedes turned her head to look to Samuel and she rolled her eyes. “God” she said wiping her tears away “really?” She asked sarcastically to him. Mercedes looked back to the screen again “wow” she said a final time.

Barrett looked to Samuel before she removed the transducer all together. “Sam… do I need to get a nurse for you?” She asked the man as she moved to clean up idly.

“No” Mercedes replied leaning up into a sitting position. “He’s fine” Mercedes told their doctor as she licked her lips sniffling. “Sam get up” she told him looking down at him.

Eight children had been a grand idea, at 32. But reality of starting again with 2 infants at 43 was definitely a cat of a different color. Samuel looked up at his wife, “just give me a second” he said voice hollow. “Eight kids. Two in diapers…” Was all he said still stunned.

Mercedes looked to Samuel again, he looked almost pitiful down there however the urge to laugh at him was terribly strong. Being pregnant in general was a shocker to her, being told she was having twins was the icing on the cake. However, she remembered a time he wanted this… so to see him in distress was amusing. “In shock?” She asked him with a shake of her head.

His beautiful wife was mocking him. He could read the humor in her hazel eyes. “It’s not funny” Samuel spat. His lip quivered at the hilarity of their predicament. “I know. I wanted a lot of children.” He said still seated on the floor laughing so hard tears were rolling down his face.

“Yes, you did. Be careful what you wish for. Now you have it” Mercedes replied as she shifted against the table with a chuckle of her own and a head shake.

Barrett chuckled at the two despite herself “you can change back into your clothes and we can meet back up in my office?” She asked tossing her gloves in the trash. She washed her hands again and grabbed Mercedes file before she left.

Samuel pulled himself from the ground, chuckles taking him in spurts now. “Truer words have never been spoken.” He penned his wife against the table. Looking down at her. “What us gonna do with two more kids, Anna May?” He asked doing a lazy Laurence Fishburne impression with a heavy sigh.

“Boy quit” Mercedes told him with a head shake. “I need to change” she told him truthfully. “We have to go talk to her about all of this…” she trailed off.

Samuel breathed in her almost calm and brushed his over ripe lips against her forehead again. “Okay, but I want you to know you ain't getting no more of this.” He chuckled light as he stepped away pulling her up from the table.

“Trust me I don’t want any more of it” Mercedes retorted. She got up off the table thanks to him and grabbed her clothing moving to change once more. Once she did she resurfaced and said “today has been an emotional roller coaster I just want to eat and take a nap” as she grabbed her purse.

Samuel scoffed, “sure....” He sighed heavily as she disappeared to dress. He shook his head, even after the laughter he was overwhelmed and exhausted. “TWINS!” He said aloud shock and disbelief still plain in his tone. He looked to Mercedes and nodded, feeling run down too. “Yes ma'am.” He said taking his wife’s hand and moving towards the door opening it for her.

#samcedes rp #thread: 6 and counting.#thread.#thread: Sam E.

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stop-brunotime · 7 years

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CW: I'm ranting about personal stuff, using bad language, feeling shit about myself and being a bad example, complaining about my emotionally abusive mother, etc. Proceed with caution. This is further to my post on Thursday. Thank you to everyone who reached out. It meant the world, and I'll reply individually when I'm done with this post. I'm going to list the questions that have been bugging me to the point of suicidal ideation, and if you know the answers, please help a sibling out!

Christmas

Am I the only one bothered by Christmas trees? Like, everyone knows Jesus was probably born in August/September, because that's when Judaism's 'go visit the family' holidays are and there's no way shepherds would've been hanging out in the pastures in midwinter. Christmas trees are a blind appropriation of European Paganism's customs (and, while we're at it, holiday, since it's not even Jesus's real birthday). We're all claiming to celebrate Jesus, when in reality we're just marking our homes as places the tree spirits can overwinter. How can we claim to live lives of peace and love and do ignorant, appropriative shit like that?

Santa. FFS, this one grates my carrot to the quick. Named for St Nicholas (who was an African bishop and very definitely Black, despite what the white supremacists will tell you on Twitter), Santa seems to be a combination of Scandinavian Pagan myths. Either he's a Christian appropriation of Odinn, who gave kids gifts at midwinter, or he's an erasure of Sami (native Scandinavians, traditionally marginalised) shamans (who were typically women) who apparently gave the grown-ups entheogenic mushrooms. So, we're erasing POC and Native women and getting toxic about it on socials. Nice. I totally want gifts from that guy! (I'm aware that in Spain and Germany [and probably other countries too] it's the Baby Jesus who brings the gifts. I'm not resident in one of those countries, so have to deal with all the Santa bullshit) Again, we claim to be all about the peace and love how?!

Bringing me to Christians. Now, I identify as one, so am spraying friendly fire here. Why are my choices of places to worship either the kind who preach heterosexism from the pulpit, regularly using 'the homosexuals' as our go-to example of unrepentant sinners bound for eternity in Hell, or the kind who just don't mention it, which feels like ominous silence? The church who don't actively hate on queers have asked me to play in their music group. I gave guy some bullshit reason about being too busy to do something I would actually like to do as a person of faith, because I was scared that, if I started doing it and they found out I occasionally fall for women and NBs/GNCs, they'd throw me out and publicly shame me and maybe sell me out to the cops (who are wildly heterosexist, backed up by the law, and allegedly not above a bit of corrective gang rape of queer prisoners).

And onto Trump. The man reminds me of my mother. And that makes me a terrible human, because he does so many worse things than triggering memories of her being consistently passive-aggressive and theologically inaccurate about "Christian values". He makes such rapey comments all the fucking time, and just dismisses anyone who tries to call him on it. He is the embodiment of everything that's wrong with the world, and yet I meet so many people who love him. We live in fucking Africa...what exactly are we doing supporting the guy who's defunding all the USAID healthcare programs that keep us in contraceptives? Like, sure, I've never had an abortion, and, barring medical necessity or a pregnancy from being raped again, am probably going to keep any pregnancy I achieve before menopause (which is only ten years away, and I don't exactly have the most active sex life from which to achieve a pregnancy)...but I've been the emergency contact on enough hospital admission forms to know that it's a necessary medical procedure and people need access to quick, cheap, and as-painless-as-possible abortions. We got that from USAID. Now Trump has fucked that up and we need to go private, which is a D&C under full anaesthesia, with associated risks. Sure, Trump blustered a bit about Mugabe, but didn't do anything real in the eleven months between him taking office and us having our coup-that's-not-a-coup. Tweeting doesn't count. How exactly is that asshole going to be 'the next Mordecai of Israel' and 'the one to rid the world of dictatorship'?

Speaking of pathological Machiavellian narcissists, does anyone have resources for recovering from a parent who used you to meet her needs from when you were really small? She never raped me or anything, but the long-term emotional neglect, belittling, passive-aggression, criticism, gaslighting, parental alienation (yes, for almost twenty years she had me convinced that my dad, whom I love and who I'm most like, was the angry abuser in their relationship and she was the victim) have taken their toll. My therapist says I need to adjust my expectations of her and my problems will go away. I see her point, but my mother is still mean as fuck. For example, she sent me a room diffuser that smelled like it came from a pound shop for Christmas. (It was called 'african spice'. It smelled of cinnamon. There are no African spices. Cinnamon is from Asia. She's heard me rant several times about people mis-labelling plant origins, so it's not like she doesn't know how much it bugs me.) This is after a quarter century of me saying variations on, 'Books or nothing, but please no cash or girly shit,' every Christmas and birthday. This is after coming out to her as genderqueer. She said she immediately thought of me when she saw it. Surely there's a more direct way to tell me that I or my house smell/s bad? Perhaps a way that doesn't subtly signal that she still frames me as the gender-perfect imaginary daughter she has in her head? She went to the effort of having it brought to Zimbabwe in a suitcase (what comes in suitcases isn't charged import tax). She could have spent that fiver on a second-hand book from Amazon, sent it out in a way that bypassed ZIMRA's human rights violation of a book tax, and given me the gift of freedom of information. But she chose to force her gender ideals on me in a way that says, yet again, that I need to be just a little bit better to be worthy of her love

I'm legit concerned that she's made me a horrible person. She gave me so many of her issues that I'm pretty sure everyone feels about me the way they do about her. I'm sure everyone looks at me and sees the lack of tangible results that come from being terrified of being publicly shamed as crazy and weird. I'm horribly awkward and say the wrong thing often. I've had dates end because I got awkward and up in my head and told him that wood cockroaches eat their parents' shit to replenish their gut flora after molting. I take days, sometimes months, to reply to messages. I hold opinions that are shared by a tiny minority of scientists and theologians, and everyone disagrees. And my writing output bears this out. The only time people say nice stuff about my writing is when I've written porn under a fake name that doesn't really have socials. The rest of the time, it's people calling me out or trolling me. Am I wrong? Is the internet just a toxic shit hole? Is everyone talking smack about me in DM, and I have no idea how many people are laughing at me? Should I just delete all my accounts, move to the Andes, change my name, and raise llamas for yarn and bees for mead?

What even is the right thing to do? I was raised with so much certainty, and have since found out things like the universe wasn't made in six days five thousand years ago, and nobody really knows where Mount Sinai is. It doesn't feel right to just pick the most convenient set of rules. I should be able to tell what the right choice is. Who died and bequeathed me the right to decide right from wrong? How am I supposed to help others when I don't even know the answers myself (and neither do any of the scholars, who are simply putting forward a best guess model) and will probably be wrestling with existential questions on my death bed? Put your own mask on first, sure, but how do I fit all these masks on one face?

#personal #rant #questions

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megsblackfirewrites · 7 years

Text

An Alpha Omega: Chapter 11

Chapter 11

“I’m home!” Jack shouted as he walked through the front door of the house. “Dad, you’re going to make me put on ten pounds! That smells so good!”

“Not Dad cooking,” Sarah called.

“Sarah, who’s side are you on?” Jack demanded as he dropped his dufflebag on the ground and walked into the kitchen. “Because I thought you loved me!”

Sarah smirked as she poured batter into a glass baking dish. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back into a bun, hiding the gray from sight. Her brown eyes were as bright as ever and she probably already knew how much laundry he needed to do just by looking at him. She placed the dish in the oven before depositing the empty mixing bowl in the sink.

“Your father’s out doing repairs on the tractor,” she said. “Left me to greet my favourite baby.”

“Aw, Mom,” he teased as he hugged her tightly. “Missed you.”

He buried his nose into her hair, breathing in her scent. She was still using that rose-scented shampoo that she’d been using as long as he could remember. Underneath it was the smell of strawberries; deodorant, no doubt; and cream. She kissed his cheek before pulling away.

“So, how’s school been?” she asked. “John said you met someone?”

“That’s complicated,” he sighed as he sat down at the table. “We’re…just friends at the moment.”

“Better start than nothing,” she smiled as she sat down opposite him. “Do you like him?”

Jack smiled as he heard the door open. Saved by the dad. He didn’t have to explain the situation with Gabriel to her. Not now, at least. Not until he got John’s opinion on everything. An Alpha knew better than anyone if another Alpha was worth giving a second chance.

“Dad! Your girlfriend’s trying to kill me with sweets!” Jack called.

“She’s been doing that since you were small; this is hardly a new development,” John replied as he walked into the room. “You look good.”

Jack turned to look at him and froze. He scented the air and frowned. That was a rather sour smell he wasn’t used to. It was like a heat scent but like the individual going through heat was incredibly ill at the same time. It was a very unpleasant smell.

“Are you…in heat?” he demanded.

“Sort of,” John shrugged. “Menopause, more like.”

“Joy,” Jack wrinkled his nose. “You smell…sort of sick.”

“I feel sick,” John agreed.

“And yet you are out playing with your tractor,” Sarah sighed.

“I was fixing it, not playing with it,” John shook his head. “Now, enough brow-beating, Sarah. Jack, living room. I want to hear about how school’s been since I left.”

Jack chuckled as he followed his father into the living room. They flopped onto the couch and curled up together, pressing their foreheads against each other as they started talking. It might have only been a few weeks, but that was more than long enough for both of them now that they had a real pack forming.

“Home sweet home,” Vanessa sighed as she dropped her bags at the front door. “Hey! Where’s the welcomin’ committee?”

Jesse came racing out of the kitchen and tackled her, squeezing her tightly. She hugged him back, nuzzling her face into his shaggy brown hair. He whimpered softly against her chest before dragging her into the kitchen where Joel was piping icing onto cupcakes.

“Holy shit,” she grinned as she sat down. “We’re getting pumpkin cupcakes?”

“Found a neat recipe online,” Joel smirked as he worked. “Figured my little darlin’s would love it.”

“You got that right,” Vanessa licked her lips. “Tom making it home?”

“No; there’s a business meeting that he has to attend,” Joel replied as he dropped some chocolate shavings into the icing. “But he promises to be here for Christmas.”

“He’d better,” Vanessa smiled before she set her arms on the table and watched her father work. “Missed this.”

“You saw me a few weeks ago,” Joel smiled.

“Not just you and Jesse,” she said. “This. This home. This city. This atmosphere. I belong here.”

“You belong anywhere you put yer mind to it,” Joel said as he put his piping tube aside. “Ain’t nothin’ special about here or Santa Fe. It’s all you, my girl.”

“Aw, you make me feel so loved,” she teased before she leaned back in her seat. “I’m just glad that I got to come home. Been…claustrophobic at school.”

“That big Alpha still guardin’ ya?” Joel asked.

Vanessa nodded. It had been hard to convince Reinhardt that he didn’t need to follow her home. It would have been awkward for him to be in a family celebration when he didn’t know who anyone was. And besides, he had his own family to go home to. She wasn’t about to force him to stay with her when his daughter was eagerly waiting for him on Turkey Day.

“Seems like a good guy; glad he got assigned to ya,” Joel smiled. “Everyone needs that Alpha friend to chase the other ones off when they’re being dipshits.”

Jesse nodded happily before he glanced at her. “Want to go for a walk?” he asked.

“When’s supper?” Vanessa asked.

“Two hours,” Joel smirked. “Go have fun. There’ll be food when you get back.”

Vanessa nodded as she got to her feet and followed Jesse to the door. He grabbed Joel’s hat off the rack and plopped it over his head, grinning as Vanessa grabbed her own. They headed down the street, Jesse all but prancing beside her as he excitedly told her about all the fun he’d had in school.

“And then Conan beat the shit out of Matthias,” he cackled. “I’ve never seen so much blood!”

“You shouldn’t be excited about that, pup,” she teased. “I almost have to worry about you.”

“Like you weren’t excited about blood and fights,” Jesse skipped along before he hopped up onto a bench. “You were a beast in high school!”

“I was an asshole,” Vanessa chuckled. “There’s a difference. But I had to be. You don’t.”

“I wish you had been born a Beta like me,” Jesse frowned. “You didn’t deserve to suffer.”

Vanessa shrugged. “Made me who I am,” she said. “Can’t say I’m mad about that.”

He sighed and walked beside her, stuffing his hands into his pockets. She heard people shouting at them, but she ignored them, wrapping her arm around Jesse’s shoulder. They stopped at a set of lights and Jesse rapid-fire pressed the button trying to get the light to change colour faster. It didn’t work, but Jesse liked keeping busy when waiting.

“Hey! Vanessa McCree! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

Vanessa turned her head to regard the man grinning at her and snorted. “Last time I checked, you hated me for breaking your nose, Morgan,” she said coldly.

Morgan rubbed his neck as he followed them across the crosswalk. “Well, I mean, you broke my nose,” he said.

“And you grabbed my ass and humped it,” she said.

“Asshole,” Jesse growled.

“I was young,” Morgan shrugged. “And I mean, you got your revenge, right?”

She rolled her eyes as she kept walking. Yes, revenge. By breaking his nose. It was totally revenge; just like a dog got revenge for someone pulling their tail by biting the offender. Totally revenge.

“So, you’re still unclaimed,” Morgan commented after a few moments.

“Oh good, your nose still works,” Vanessa rolled her eyes again before coming to a stop outside the ice cream shop and leaning on the window.

She flashed the owner a two finger salute and he waved excitedly. The old Beta, Mr. Monroe, was a charming man and loved giving away free samples of the newest flavour to little kids. He was a little judgemental with new teenagers that walked into his store, but that was only because they were the ones that usually tried to steal something off the front counter. Vanessa had done it once as a joke and he’d whacked her knuckles with his ice cream scoop when he figured it out. He’d also laughed about it because she’d managed to do it right in front of him and he hadn’t realized it until she wagged the bobble head in front of his face.

“Ah, little Miss McCree,” Monroe laughed as he hobbled outside. “You’ve grown since I last saw you! How’s school?”

“Going as well as can be expected,” she replied. “Alpha-dominant course and all.”

“I’m sure you’re leading the class in grades,” Monroe snorted. “And keeping them on their toes.”

“It’s a little complicated at the moment, but I’m definitely not rollin’ over and exposing my throat to them,” she laughed.

“Yes, I heard about that,” Monroe nodded to Jesse. “You okay?”

“Little shaken, but I’ll get over it. I’m a big girl,” she reassured him.

“Nothing about being a big girl, Vanessa, my dear,” he frowned. “But I’m sure Joel’ll take care of that. Here, let me get you the ‘Unicorn Explosion’ we got in last week. Chocolate sauce and cherries?”

“Yes, please,” she grinned. “And the waffle cone, please.”

“Of course!” he laughed. “Coming right up.”

He vanished back into his store and Morgan cleared his throat. Vanessa flipped him off as she waited; she didn’t feel like talking to him just yet. Jesse flipped Morgan off as well, sticking his nose in the air to try to emulate his big sister. Vanessa still thought that was the cutest thing Jesse had ever done. Monroe returned with two cones and Jesse fished out the five dollars for both. Monroe playfully scolded them for the payment, but they both knew that it would go into the tip jar that got sent to the local Omega shelter.

“You two take care now,” he said. “And don’t you be harassing my favourite customers, sir,” he added to Morgan, glaring at him over the rim of his spectacles.

He headed back inside and Vanessa started licking at the vanilla ice cream with rainbow explosions. Morgan glared after him before shooting her a look.

“All his kids were Omegas, right?” he asked.

“Does it matter?” Vanessa asked as she dug her teeth into the top of the ice cream and bit off a chunk covered in sauce and cherries. “He’s a kind man. Very generous, self-sacrificin’, and would fight anyone that tried to cause harm to his customers.”

“So why don’t you let him mark you?” Morgan sneered.

“God, you are such an ass,” she rolled her eyes. “Maybe I don’t want to be marked, asshole; you ever think of that? Or is that too complicated an idea for your hormone-addled brain to comprehend?”

“You’re an Omega,” Morgan snapped.

“Again, glad to see your nose still works,” she replied.

“You’re supposed to want to be marked,” he growled.

She flipped him off as she pushed the ice cream around in her mouth to help it melt. “I’m supposed to want the strongest available Alpha to mark me,” she replied. “Which means you would have to grow a spine and actually fight someone for me. But you won’t because yer a coward that just hopes an Omega will fall at yer feet beggin’ ya to knot them.” She handed her cone off to Jesse and stepped forward.

She grabbed Morgan by the front of his shirt and hauled him to her face. She bared her teeth at him, watching his eyes grow wide in fear. Idiot had the nerve to call himself an Alpha when he was nothing more than a belly-crawling Omega that got incredibly lucky with the birthing lottery.

“You ain’t worth the dirt on my boots,” she growled. “So get yer ass outta my sight before I show you how an Omega treats an unworthy Alpha. Here’s a hint; you don’t hear about ‘em fer a reason.”

She released him with a shove, watching the man flee as fast as he could. She growled after him as she accepted her cone from Jesse. She licked it slowly to calm herself down as Jesse grinned after Morgan.

“I think he pissed himself,” he cackled. “What a loser!”

“Jesse,” she scolded playfully. “That’s not how we talk about an Alpha that just got his world-view flipped on its head. Come on. We still got a while before we gotta be home.”

Jesse trotted beside her, happily devouring his cone as it melted in the Santa Fe heat. He glanced at her now and then, but he didn’t say anything until they reached their hour mark.

“Van, do you want an Alpha?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Never really did. But, I mean, it’d be nice to have a partner, you know? Someone I can depend on to watch my back and care for me at my worst. And someone I can love unconditionally and care for at their worst. Maybe I’m just too much of a romantic.”

“I hope you find someone like that,” Jesse smiled up at her. “Because you deserve it. Yer the best, Van, and you deserve nothin’ less than the best.”

Vanessa smirked as she offered the bottom of her ice cream cone to her brother. He happily stuffed the chocolate filled end into his mouth and hugged her tightly. She returned the hug, holding her gangly little brother close. He was so sweet; she hoped he found someone that appreciated it.

Gabriel hadn’t been in the door five minutes before he was surrounded by his sisters and dragged into the kitchen. He was forced to sit at the island and they sat opposite him, all three sets of brown eyes narrowed. He let out a long-suffering sigh as his sisters growled.

“We made up,” he said. “We’re just friends.”

“You fucked up big,” Sombra growled.

“You’re lucky he even talked to you after the stunt you pulled,” Alejandra agreed.

“I can’t believe…,” Maria started to growl before Mama appeared behind them.

“I told you to leave your brother alone,” she scolded them. “He made a mistake and he’s dealing with the consequences. Gabi, m’ijo, you look exhausted.”

“Long trip,” he shrugged. “I could go for a nap.”

“Then go rest, Gabi,” she smiled.

Gabriel chuckled as he got to his feet. He knew a dismissal when he heard one. He hadn’t even gotten upstairs before he heard his mother scolding his sisters for ganging up on him.

“As if he needs his sisters beating up on him as well! Honestly, you’d think you were a pack of Omegas the way you three go on. Leave the poor boy alone.”

Gabriel sank down onto his bed and sighed heavily. He certainly felt like an Omega at the moment. He knew he was at the bottom of the food chain when it came to his sisters, but the fact that they’d felt the need to gang up on him when he wasn’t even through the door stung. Yes, he’d screwed up with Jack and he’d fessed up to it. It wasn’t their place to come after him for anything.

He pulled his cellphone out and scrolled over to Jack’s number. ‘You get home okay?’ he asked.

‘Yah,’ Jack answered after a few minutes. ‘Sorry if something is spelled wrong. Dad’s arm’s in my face.’

‘Cuddle time?’

‘Yus.’ Three seconds later. ‘Yes.’

Gabriel smiled. ‘Well, I’ll leave you to it. Say hi to him for me.’

‘I will. You have fun with your family too.’

‘Three sisters; I’m already low dog on totem pole,’ he texted back.

Jack sent a laughing face back and Gabriel set his phone on the nightstand. He let out another long sigh as he stared up at the ceiling. He was glad that Jack was in a good mood. He deserved it after the shit Gabriel had put him through. He really hoped that Jack did forgive him for his stupidity and that he could earn his trust once more. The thought of not having Jack in his life was depressing; he didn’t want to think about it.

So, instead, he closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep. He’d worry about things when he woke up and had a clearer mind.

#reaper76 #ABO dynamics

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sweet-christabel · 7 years

Text

A Trusted Friend In Science

FF.net: (x) AO3: (x)

Chapter Thirty-One - 2035. Moving Forward.

Chell woke up gradually, feeling at ease, peaceful and warm, her body buzzing with a pleasant kind of ache. She stirred, trying to stretch, and the arms around her waist tightened their grip. Smiling, she reached for the topmost hand, threading her tanned fingers through his pale ones. She felt the scratch of his re-growing beard as he planted a kiss on the back of her shoulder. Chell shifted in his arms, turning onto her other side so she could see his face.

Doug wore a soft smile, his mismatched eyes full of warmth. There was a shred of caution to be seen in them too, and she knew that he was a little concerned, as she was, about where they stood and how they’d move forward. Like her, he seemed to be largely confident about the developments, but daylight brought reality with it.

“Good morning,” he said quietly.

“Hi,” she replied, almost in a whisper, a little afraid that her voice would be gone again. When she heard herself, her single word as clear and soft as her voice had ever been, she couldn’t help breaking into a grin.

Doug’s smile widened, and he reached out a hand to trace light circles on her arm, seemingly for no other reason than because he could.

“Is it still raining?” she asked, lifting her head off the pillow to listen.

“Yes. We might be stuck here for another day or so.”

That prospect didn’t bother her as much as it had before, strangely enough. She ran her fingers down his cheek, unable to help herself, needing to connect. Leaning forward, she kissed him softly, sweetly, still getting used to the fact that she could now act on the stray thoughts she’d always had to quell. Neither of them seemed in a hurry to break apart.

“Are you hungry?” Doug asked when they finally came up for air. “We skipped dinner last night.”

“So we did,” Chell said, remembering, letting out a small, slightly embarrassed laugh. “I haven’t done that in years. I mean…you know, for this reason. Sure. I guess we have to get up some time.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

A short while later, seated side by side with cups of instant coffee and cans of fruit, they fell into a comfortable silence, one that felt much more bearable than the awkwardness of recent days. Chell couldn’t quite believe that so much had changed between them in just a few hours, and yet, on the whole, nothing had changed. And the things that were different were proving to be exhilarating to explore. She hadn’t really appreciated just how much she’d been concealing, not just from Doug, but from herself too. She’d never consciously admitted her attraction to him – whenever that had happened – and she knew that the L word had remained safely shut away in her subconscious. The constant butterflies that she’d been feeling had all but vanished, having been a result of her unacknowledged fear of her feelings not being returned.

That everything had come to the fore now that they were free was not surprising. What they’d been trying to achieve at Aperture, both before and after GLaDOS, had been an ongoing distraction from anything else in their lives, and it had slowed the development of their relationship quite severely.

It was still there, though, Chell reflected, sipping her coffee. I never saw it at the time, but it was definitely there. No wonder I stopped going out on dates. No one else interested me at all. And god…no wonder we were both so scared when he put me in stasis…

“We’ve been total idiots,” she mused aloud.

Doug nodded slowly, never taking his eyes off his coffee cup. “So many other people saw it,” he commenting, proving that his thoughts were turning over the same things hers were.

“I used to get annoyed with them,” Chell recalled. “I thought it was narrow-minded of them to think that a man and a woman can’t be close friends without anything else going on. And here we are proving them right. That’s…really irritating.”

Doug laughed quietly. “I’ve missed your way with words. But you became pretty close with Adam from Test Subject Observation, didn’t you? Are you saying you had feelings for him too?”

She knew he was teasing her, but she nudged his shoulder with hers, exclaiming, “No! It was totally different with him, I didn’t ever get distracted or catch myself fantasising about…” She trailed off, eyes wide. “And I’m going to stop right there.”

“Oh,” Doug said, the word laced with equal parts amusement and disappointment.

Chell covered her mouth with her hand, but she couldn’t help laughing. “I guess that actually proves my point though,” she said at length, lowering it. “Adam was a true friend, but you…you were always going to be more than that. I just…didn’t realise it.”

“You’re the closest friend I’ve ever had,” Doug told her softly, “but if I’d known that that’s what you would become the first time you rushed into Image Formatting, I might have tried harder not to think about you the way I did.”

Chell raised her eyebrows in surprise but said nothing.

“Then when you told me who you were, it was a shock, to say the least.”

“Because I was a kid when you first met me?” she asked.

“No, it wasn’t that. I was a kid too,” he replied at once. “I may have been eighteen, but I was naïve and immature. No, it was because you were the one who’d seen what I’d seen, with Darren Wheatley. That experience…it made me feel a bond with you that I had to take seriously. And when you confirmed that you’d come back to Aperture for the same reasons I did, I knew we were still tied together, that…we’d form a partnership. I couldn’t afford to let myself get distracted from that.”

“I knew we’d form a partnership too,” Chell admitted, smiling. “But as for the rest…that was a welcome surprise.”

Doug chuckled briefly before draining his coffee cup. “Yes. In hindsight, it really was.”

The rain lessened as the day went on, but they didn’t pay much attention to it. Instead, they spent their time relaxing, simply enjoying being together, and they talked. Chell tried hard not to overuse her voice, worried that it would disappear again, but she found it difficult. There was so much to say that she’d never written out, so much to elaborate on what she had. She gave Doug a more complete account of her experiences in Aperture, telling him all the details she’d had to leave out for the sake of paper space. Her concerns, however, she still kept to herself. She’d vowed to tell him about them, but she didn’t really know where to begin, and she couldn’t bring herself to shatter the tranquillity that had settled over them.

I will, though, she told herself firmly. Before anything more…intimate happens, I will tell him.

But that promise proved difficult to keep, turning out to be a fight that she lost laughably quickly. Time, she knew, would calm the fire between them, but it was still new, still intense and addicting, and she couldn’t refuse it. Chell had been forced to become quite proficient at communicating without words, but never had it been so easy to understand, and be understood, so completely than when her world was nothing but Doug and herself and the intensity between them in their heated moments. She could look into his eyes and know that she was loved, accepted, important, and know that she was telling him exactly the same. It was heady and intoxicating, unlike anything she’d ever experienced with a lover before. Although the physical side of it was wonderful and breath-taking, it was the sense of connection that she found so hard to resist.

Afterwards, as they lay in repose, catching their breath, Chell scolded herself for getting swept up again. It would be so easy to simply stay where they were, forget anything about finding their place in the world, or finding Gordon Freeman, or dealing with the Borealis. The half-ruined farmhouse had become their sanctuary, their refuge, and she knew she’d be strangely sad when the weather let them move on.

“Doug,” she began quietly, idly tracing patterns on his chest with her fingertips. “There’s something I need to tell you, and…it’s…awkward. I meant to say it earlier, but…I guess I didn’t want to spoil things.”

His head tilted, and she leaned back to meet his gaze.

“I, uh…I know this seems kind of presumptuous, but…I also know that neither of us would have let this happen if it wasn’t going to be something lasting, maybe even…” She stumbled over the word ‘permanent’, finding it too scary to say aloud, like tempting fate.

“Yes,” Doug murmured, apparently grasping what she was trying to say.

“The thing is…there’s a chance I can’t have children,” she spat out in a rush. “Angela came with me to the doctor, and he said that there could be side effects from how long I spent in suspension. My body, my cycle…they’re messed up.”

Doug looked at her first with surprise, then with concern. “Is it dangerous for you?”

“No. It’s…kind of like an early menopause, I guess.”

He let out a relieved breath. “That’s good.”

She frowned. “Yes, but…what about…?”

“Chell, all I want is you. I’ve never seriously thought about having kids. I’m…not sure I’m capable of taking care of someone else.”

“But what if you become sure?”

He fixed her with a steady gaze. “If we reach a point where we make that decision…we’ll find a way. We could adopt.”

Chell shook her head. “But you’ve seen enough of this world to know how important it is for humanity to start having kids. I’m…I’m useless.”

“You’re far from useless.”

“I’m not,” she protested. “What skills do I have to offer? I had no career path. I was a secretary. You have the ability to do something truly beneficial, you have skills that the world needs, but me… And now I can’t even do something I’m biologically built for.”

His frown was part bewilderment, part righteous annoyance. “You are not useless. Chell…you brought an entire science facility to its knees. Then saved it again. You kept going in the face of impossible odds. You may not have had a career, but what does that matter? You could turn your hand to anything and be a success, I know it. And believe me when I tell you that you are not defined by your ability to reproduce.” He cupped her cheek, searching her face. “Is this what’s been bothering you all this time?”

“How could it not?” she replied softly. “I…I don’t know if I know how to live in this world. I got so caught up in what was happening at Aperture, it kept me…on the outside of reality, I guess. The worst kind of safety blanket. And now…everything is so different. Being unable to have children is…it’s a huge deal. It could cost me…” She trailed off, feeling her throat tighten.

Doug’s eyes widened. “You…you weren’t afraid that I…?” Something in her expression made him pause. “Listen to me. I love you. I’m never going to leave you. I mean, unless you want me to.”

“I don’t like to make rash statements, but I don’t think I’m going to want you to,” she said with a tiny smile.

“Good,” he retorted, returning it. “And please trust me: whatever happens, we’ll face it together. Isn’t that what you’re always telling me?”

Chell couldn’t help smiling again hearing her own words used against her. “It is.”

“Then we should both work on believing it.”

She nodded in agreement, saying quietly, “Okay, deal.” She rested her head on his shoulder, sighing as he stroked her back soothingly.

“Promise me something,” he spoke up.

“I’ll try.”

“Promise we’ll survive whatever we have to do to destroy the Borealis. That we’ll have a life together.”

She was silent for a moment, then said truthfully, “I’ll do my best.”

The rain petered off over night, leaving a cooler, fresher bite to the air, as if the weather had finally realised that it was September. Doug and Chell packed up their things and left the farmhouse in the morning, each a little despondent to leave it behind. They couldn’t have stayed much longer, though, or their food would run out before they reached Gordon Freeman.

Chell seemed a bit more positive about things, which Doug was glad for. He’d been surprised to hear about her worries, having no idea that she had such a low opinion of her future prospects. She’d achieved so much at Aperture, it seemed unthinkable to him that she would doubt herself in any way.

It once seemed unthinkable that she’d return your feelings, but she does, he reminded himself.

He’d been pretty stunned by that. If he hadn’t been medicated, he would have been hugely sceptical of the hints he’d started noticing in her, thinking they were a product of his imagination. But they’d proved true. And then, amazingly, she’d shown him in no uncertain terms that every gaze held a little too long, every accidental touch, every reaction to proximity had been a result of the way she felt about him. When she’d walked around the fire to him, he’d known. That was the only reason he’d been brave enough to hold his hand out to her.

They chatted as they made their way across the landscape, following the map and the compass Doug had traded his watch for. Chell was starting to be less cautious about her voice, which seemed to be back for good. There was still a subtle rasp to it, but it was as strong as it had been before. He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed it, having lost it first from Chell and then from the companion cube. Of course, he could never be as pleased about its return as Chell was. Her delight every time she broke the silence was endearing to see.

As night fell, they made camp, the routine as familiar as always, only this time they set up their sleeping bags side by side rather than on opposite sides of the fire. It was a tiny change, but one that made them both smile like love-struck teenagers.

Gordon Freeman and Alyx Vance had settled near a small town close to the New Mexico border, according to Angela. From there, it would only be a relatively short trip to Dr. Kleiner’s lab, shorter still if Freeman happened to have a car. When Chell and Doug were less than a day away from reaching their destination, they stumbled across another dilapidated house to shelter in for the night. It wasn’t in as good condition as the first, but they appreciated being able to sleep somewhere that had walls and a roof.

They piled up all their bedding to create a makeshift couch, sitting in relative comfort as they ate yet another meal of tinned food, the fire warming their feet.

“Have you thought about what we’ll do if Freeman turns us away?” Chell asked.

“We’ll carry on,” Doug answered her at once. “It will be harder without his help, but we can still try. He won’t turn us away, though.”

She shot him a curious look. “You seem very certain.”

“How many people know about the ship? When we mention it, it’s bound to get his attention. He’ll be intrigued by what we have to say.”

“You think?” she said with interest.

He turned to her, setting his empty can on the floor. “Wouldn’t you be?”

“I would,” Chell confirmed, nodding. “But that’s just me. We don’t know this guy.”

Doug smiled at that. “We don’t. But apparently the whole world knows him. According to my sister.”

Chell grinned. “She was quite enthusiastic. Not as much as Gerry was though.”

“Do you think he has a fan club?”

“Who, Gerry?” she said impishly.

“Freeman,” Doug responded in a growl, narrowing his eyes at her.

She laughed, wrapping her arms around her knees. “I wouldn’t be surprised. You heard what Angela said about this One Free Man stuff.”

“People latch on to what gives them hope,” Doug commented, staring into the fire. “I can vouch for that better than most.”

He felt Chell’s gaze on him as she asked, “What gave you hope?”

Doug felt his lips twitch in a small smile. He shot her an earnest look. “You,” he said simply.

She reacted with flattered surprise, then smirked. “So…this is just a result of you latching on?”

He closed his eyes, sighing. “That is not what I meant. At all.”

Chell bumped his shoulder with hers. “I know, I was just teasing.” Her expression became pensive and serious. “I’m glad that…you trusted me. Believed in me. Even when I didn’t know what I was doing.”

He glanced down at the floor, grimacing. “I was the one who put you there. The least I could do was believe in you. Truthfully, though…you made it very easy.”

Chell opened her mouth to speak, but then a faint sound tore through the darkness outside, gradually growing in volume. They both glanced at the door, eyes wide.

“Is that…someone screaming?” Doug asked, hearing what sounded like utter panic coming from not far off.

Chell darted off the pile of bedding, snatching up a pistol from her backpack. They’d acquired it in Wyoming as a means of defence, not knowing what they might come across on the road, but as yet it had remained untouched in the bag. Chell had received a handful of lessons from the man they’d traded with, but she looked less than confident as she brandished it and approached the door. Doug picked up the saucepan, moving to join her. As she reached for the door handle, there came a sound like a small car crash, followed by a tremor that they both felt through the soles of their feet.

Chell wrenched open the door. There had been another two buildings beside the one they’d decided to camp in. One of them was now on fire, its roof and upper floor collapsed. The yells had stopped, or were covered by the sound of crackling wood. There was no sign of anything else, either friend or foe.

Doug took in the scene with a single glance, then gripped Chell’s arm. “We should go. Now.”

“But the man who was yelling…”

“Is probably dead. We can’t help him now, we need to leave.”

“Don’t you want to investigate what happened?” she asked him.

“We can come back in the morning, when there’s enough light,” he said, feeling the sense of fight or flight that he’d lived with in Aperture. “We need to move before that fire takes hold and spreads.”

Chell looked reluctant but nodded. “Okay. But we’re coming back,” she said firmly.

Moving quickly, they gathered their belongings, pouring earth over their camp fire to douse its flames, even as the building nearby burned. At a frenzied walk that was almost a run, they headed out into the night, leaving the scene behind. They set up camp far enough away to feel safe, but close enough that they could see the glow and smell the smoke. Neither of them slept well, nor did they bother building another fire, choosing to huddle together for warmth instead. Then it started to rain. They pulled their covers over their heads, but it was a cold, unpleasant night. When the cold light of morning crept across the sky, they were both wide awake and slightly damp.

When they headed back, they saw that the fire had been contained to the first house, the rain having arrived in time to extinguish it. They stored their luggage in the building they’d initially occupied before cautiously approaching the wreckage. It was a pile of rubble, blackened beams sticking up at odd angles. There was no heat coming off it, however, most likely thanks to the soaking it had received.

“Any ideas what caused this?” Chell asked, prodding a section of wall with the toe of her boot.

Doug shook his head, studying the mess. “None.”

He had turned what little they’d witnessed over in his head hundreds of times during the night, and it was as much a mystery as it had been at the time. He didn’t like that at all. It was troubling. Chell seemed as concerned as he was, but her curiosity was a stronger drive.

“It sounded like someone was being attacked at first,” she mused, “but then this? It’s just…weird. It doesn’t make any sense.”

Doug watched her try and puzzle it out, his own head irritatingly free of ideas.

“Did something…fall? Is that what brought down the roof before the fire took hold?” she theorised, glancing at him.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “If something fell, who was screaming? He sounded…terrified.”

“Help!”

They both froze, hearing the muffled cry coming from beneath the rubble.

“Oh my god,” Chell muttered, before darting forward and throwing debris aside.

Doug hurried to help her, finding the wreckage cool to the touch and still wet from the rain.

“Help! Oh god, please help me, it’s really dark in here.”

They both froze for a second time. Doug’s eyes widened, and he turned to Chell. She’d gone pale, her hands clenching into fists at her side. Mouth set in a grim line, she backed away, shaking her head. Then, after half a dozen steps, she halted, seemingly changing her mind, and marched back again, shifting the rubble with obvious aggression.

“What are you doing?” Doug asked her.

“I have to know for sure.”

He could understand that. He bent to help her, and within a few minutes, they’d dug down deep enough to see the dust-covered blue light that greeted them underneath the debris.

“Hello! I can’t believe it’s you! That’s a piece of luck! Let me tell you, it is great to see you two again.”

#A trusted friend in science #chellmann #Chell #Doug Rattmann #fluff!#he reveres her so much #more rain #yes I ship Freemance so sue me #actually don't #please

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