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atlanticsportsmed12 · 6 months ago

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Top-Rated Podiatrist Brooklyn: Expert Foot Care At Atlantic Orthopedics & Sports Medicine

Are you experiencing foot pain or discomfort? Look no further than the expert podiatrists Brooklyn at Atlantic Orthopedics & Sports Medicine . Our team of skilled professionals specializes in diagnosing and treating a wide range of foot and ankle conditions, ensuring you receive the highest quality care for your musculoskeletal needs.

Why Choose a Podiatrist in Brooklyn?

Living in a bustling city like Brooklyn means spending a lot of time on your feet. Whether you're walking to work, exploring the neighborhood, or enjoying outdoor activities, your feet endure significant stress daily. A podiatrist in Brooklyn understands the unique challenges faced by urban dwellers and can provide tailored solutions to keep you moving comfortably.

At Atlantic Orthopedics & Sports Medicine, our podiatrists are well-versed in treating common foot problems that affect Brooklyn residents, such as:

1. Plantar fasciitis

2. Bunions

3. Heel spurs

4. Ingrown toenails

5. Ankle sprains

6. Diabetic foot care

Our Approach to Foot Care

When you visit our podiatrist in Brooklyn, you'll experience a patient-centered approach that focuses on your individual needs. We begin with a comprehensive evaluation of your foot and ankle, considering your medical history, lifestyle, and specific concerns. This thorough assessment allows us to develop a personalized treatment plan that addresses the root cause of your discomfort.

Advanced Facilities

At Atlantic Orthopedics & Sports Medicine, we pride ourselves on offering cutting-edge treatments and technologies. Our Brooklyn podiatry clinic is equipped with advanced diagnostic tools, including digital X-rays and ultrasound imaging, enabling us to provide accurate diagnoses and effective treatment plans.

Comprehensive Podiatry Services

Our podiatrist in Brooklyn offers a wide range of services to address various foot and ankle conditions:

1. Conservative treatments: We emphasize non-invasive approaches when possible, including custom orthotics, physical therapy, and medication management.

2. Minimally invasive procedures: For conditions that require intervention, we offer minimally invasive techniques that promote faster healing and reduced downtime.

3. Surgical solutions: When necessary, our skilled podiatric surgeons perform advanced procedures to correct complex foot and ankle issues.

4. Sports medicine: Athletes can benefit from our specialized sports podiatry services, focusing on injury prevention and performance optimization.

5. Diabetic foot care: We provide comprehensive care for patients with diabetes, including regular check-ups and preventive measures to avoid complications.

Personalized Care from Expert Podiatrists

At Atlantic Orthopedics & Sports Medicine, you'll find a team of experienced podiatrists in Brooklyn who are dedicated to your well-being. Our specialists stay up-to-date with the latest advancements in podiatric medicine, ensuring you receive the most effective treatments available.

Our podiatrists take the time to listen to your concerns, answer your questions, and educate you about your condition and treatment options. This personalized approach helps you make informed decisions about your foot health and empowers you to take an active role in your recovery.

Convenient Location for Brooklyn Residents

Our clinic is conveniently located in the heart of Brooklyn, making it easy for residents from all neighborhoods to access quality podiatric care. Whether you're in Park Slope, Williamsburg, or Flatbush, our podiatrist in Brooklyn is just a short distance away.

Insurance and Affordability

We understand that cost can be a concern when seeking medical care. That's why our podiatrist in Brooklyn works with a wide range of insurance providers to ensure that quality foot care is accessible to all. Our friendly staff will help you navigate the insurance process and explore payment options that suit your needs.

Prevention and Education

In addition to treating existing foot conditions, our podiatrist in Brooklyn is committed to helping you maintain healthy feet for life. We offer valuable advice on proper footwear, foot hygiene, and preventive measures to keep your feet in top condition. Regular check-ups with our podiatrist can help catch potential issues early, preventing more serious problems down the road.

Testimonials from Satisfied Patients

Don't just take our word for it – hear what our patients have to say about their experiences with our podiatrist in Brooklyn:

"I've been struggling with heel pain for months, but after just a few visits to Atlantic Orthopedics & Sports Medicine, I'm finally able to walk comfortably again. Their podiatrist in Brooklyn is truly exceptional!" – Sarah L.

"As a runner, I was worried about a persistent ankle issue. The team at Atlantic Orthopedics provided expert care and got me back on track. I highly recommend their podiatrist in Brooklyn for any foot or ankle concerns." – Mike T.

Schedule Your Appointment Today

Don't let foot pain hold you back from enjoying all that Brooklyn has to offer. Take the first step towards healthier feet by scheduling an appointment with our expert podiatrist in Brooklyn at Atlantic Orthopedics & Sports Medicine. Our friendly staff is ready to assist you and answer any questions you may have about our services.

Remember, when it comes to foot health, early intervention is key. Whether you're dealing with chronic pain, a sports injury, or simply want to maintain healthy feet, our podiatrist Brooklyn is here to help. Trust Atlantic Orthopedics & Sports Medicine for comprehensive, personalized foot care that keeps you moving comfortably through life in the city that never sleeps.

Contact us today to experience the difference that expert podiatric care can make in your daily life. Your feet will thank you!

#Podiatrist Brooklyn #peptide therapy #Orthopedic surgeon Brooklyn #Orthopedic doctor brooklyn

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bethelctpride · 11 months ago

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Intermittent homelessness from an early age is one of a complex cluster of obstacles to reaching old age faced by the queer community that many other demographic categories never have to contend with. Others include elevated exposure to HIV/AIDS and diseases like hepatitis; chronic financial instability; inadequate, inaccessible, or discriminatory health care; and physical and mental abuse from family, friends, and society at large. Yet as the U.S. population ages rapidly, so, too, will LGBTQ community members. Studies project that the current population of three million LGBTQ elders over the age of fifty will more than double over the next seven years, reaching an estimated seven million by 2030. (Tellingly, as with prison and homeless populations, members of the queer community are often tracked as elders starting at fifty because of advanced aging characteristics.) According to AARP, nearly 40 percent of LGBTQ elders are disabled or chronically ill. More than half report that they are lonely and socially isolated from their family and community: a recognized indicator of mental and physical health. Marie King’s experience is not unique. All across the country, LGBTQ elders are grappling with an industry unraveling amid a politics of discrimination, one that has found it more expedient to punish minorities than to fix an intractable long-term care problem. In January of 2021, President Biden issued an executive order intended to prevent discrimination on the basis of gender identity and sexual orientation in employment, housing, education, and health care. The next month, the Department of Housing and Urban Development finally added sexual orientation and gender identity as categories protected under the Fair Housing Act, which was originally passed by Congress in 1968. The federal Nursing Home Reform Act also includes protections for LGBTQ elders. Yet studies have shown that these elders disproportionately suffer discrimination when entering long-term care. And statewide protections can be weak: there are nineteen states with no prohibitions at all against discrimination by gender or orientation. -

One alternative to the prejudice that many LGBTQ elders receive in nursing homes and long-term care facilities is to provide housing and residential services that serve the queer community specifically. On Myrtle Avenue in Fort Greene, Brooklyn, across from the park, stands a new seventeen-story residential building with 145 units reserved for those sixty-two and older who are living at or beneath 50 percent of the area’s median income. It is the largest of its kind in the country. About half of its units are intended for LGBTQ residents. Stonewall House, which opened in 2019, was built by the city in partnership with SAGE, the nation’s oldest LGBTQ elder-focused organization. The development is geared toward the “aging in place” approach: residents can receive health care services on location. On the first floor of Stonewall House is a nearly seven-thousand-square-foot community center operated by SAGE, one of the organization’s six senior centers in New York City (Midtown, the Bronx, Staten Island, and Harlem are the other locations, in addition to another center in Brooklyn). Their tagline is, “We refuse to be invisible.” In addition to their facilities, SAGE offers a range of services across the country. SAGECare provides LGBTQ-affirming staff training and credentialing courses to organizations in all fifty states, in person or online. And SAGEServes supports elders and their caregivers with a buddy program, counseling, and caregiving respites. Yet housing discrimination against LGBTQ elders remains common.

#LGBTQ elders #senior citizens #nursing homes #aging in place #queer elders

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corbettdullearealestate · 1 year ago

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Secure Restaurant Space for Rent in Brooklyn's Heart

Did you know? In the USA, people are spending more money when they go out to eat than they spend on buying groceries. Just in January, people put in over $86.6 billion at restaurants, which is 24% higher than last year's January. (Source: https://finance.yahoo.com/news/consumers-are-still-spending-at-restaurants-despite-inflation-193806216.html) It has ignited enthusiasm among entrepreneurs and other business people to launch their very own restaurants. And where is one of the prime spots for that? One cool place for this is Brooklyn. Yes, it is a trendy area where many love to try new foods. Getting a restaurant space for rent in Brooklyn is a smart move. If you open a restaurant there, more people might come to try your food. So, choosing a Brooklyn spot could be a tasty success for your restaurant dream!

Unlocking Profits in the Restaurant Business: Leveraging Brooklyn's Bustling Environment

The crowdy atmosphere of this neighborhood can propel your restaurant's prosperity. With its diverse inhabitants and a constant flow of residents and visitors, Brooklyn offers an eager and dynamic customer base.

The key to unlocking this potential is understanding and catering to the eclectic tastes of Brooklynites. Design a menu that mirrors the multicultural fabric of the community, attracting food enthusiasts magnetically. Moreover, Brooklyn's fast-paced lifestyle creates an ideal setting for quick-service options, takeout, and delivery services, aligning with the demands of urban living.

By embracing Brooklyn's innovative spirit and culinary ingenuity, your restaurant can flourish amid this vibrant backdrop. Transform the borough's kinetic energy into a recipe for triumph within the ever-evolving restaurant industry.

Key Factors to Keep in Mind When Selecting a Restaurant Space for Rent in Brooklyn

Navigating the process of selecting the ideal restaurant space for rent in Brooklyn requires careful consideration of several essential factors.

First, the location stands as a paramount consideration. Choose a spot that aligns with your target demographic and is easily accessible to both residents and visitors. Proximity to public transportation and foot traffic hubs can significantly impact your restaurant's visibility and customer reach.

Second, analyze the space's size and layout. Ensure it accommodates your culinary vision, kitchen equipment, and seating arrangement. A well-designed floor plan promotes efficient operations and enhances the dining experience for patrons.

Third, evaluate the neighborhood's ambiance and potential for growth. Is the area known for its food scene? Is it up-and-coming or established? Such insights can influence your restaurant's brand and long-term success.

Considering the local competition is crucial as well. A balance between having nearby dining options and standing out within the culinary landscape is essential. Additionally, inquire about leasing terms, costs, and any potential hidden fees. A clear understanding of the financial obligations associated with the rental space is imperative for proper budgeting. Lastly, assess the availability of necessary permits and licenses.

Final Words

By carefully assessing different aspects, you can confidently embark on your restaurant journey, harnessing Brooklyn's vibrant energy and diverse community to create a dining experience. If additional assistance is required, think about seeking guidance from real estate professionals such as Corbett & Dullea. With their expertise, you can confidently reach a well-informed decision that aligns with the changing business environment.

Blog Source URL: - https://cdrenyc.com/restaurant-space/secure-restaurant-space-for-rent-in-brooklyns-heart/

#restaurant space for rent in Brooklyn

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rybsteinmedical · 2 years ago

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Diabetes Foot Care - Tips And Reasons To See A Podiatrist Regularly

Are you suffering from diabetes? If so, you should take good care of your foot health! Yes, you read that information right!

Foot problems are a common complication of having high blood sugar. People with this condition can experience foot problems due to two main reasons!

First, their blood supply may get affected and lead to slower healing. Secondly, they can lose sensation in their feet due to nerve damage. A person with nerve damage may not even realize that minor cuts in their feet can lead to ulcers.

If you have diabetes and want to avoid any complications in your foot health, it’s good to see a podiatrist in New York regularly. Getting your feet checked by your doctor can help diagnose the problem on time before it causes further damage to your nerves or legs.

This article describes the adverse effects of poor blood circulation in a diabetic person, suggestions to improve circulation, and some practical foot care tips to enhance foot health!

Poor Blood Circulation In Diabetics -

Poor blood circulation is a major cause of the slow healing of cuts and sores on your foot. How can you know if you have a blood circulation problem? It's when you have pain or cramps in the back of your legs while walking, sitting, or standing!

Mostly, this problem occurs due to the hardening of arteries when they clog up. Some of the common causes include excessive smoking, high cholesterol, increased blood glucose levels, etc.

How Can You Improve Blood Circulation?

Learning the cause of your poor circulation can help you take some steps to correct them! For example- you can follow these tips to improve your blood circulation -

Control blood-fat levels.

Control your blood sugar levels.

Do some sort of physical activity to maintain your fitness.

Give Up Smoking (or limit smoking).

You might have already heard and seen that smokers have a high risk of heart attacks, strokes, and blood circulation problems. This is because smoking can lead to spasms or narrowing of blood vessels. This, in turn, leads to foot problems in diabetics.

And most importantly, if you are from Brooklyn, you should see a primary care doctor in Brooklyn, NY, when you suspect you have diabetic foot complications. Getting the treatment at the right time can be the best idea to improve your blood circulation and prevent further damage to your nerves in the legs.

Foot Care Tips For Diabetic People -

A diabetic person needs to have his feet checked by a podiatrist in New York at least once or twice a year! Remember, diabetes can lead to gangrene, a dead black-colored tissue. Most of the time, it results from the delayed treatment of foot injuries.

Here Are Some Tips For Daily Foot Care -

People with diabetes and neuropathy or vascular disease can follow these tips to prevent foot problems -

Check the feet daily. Look for signs of infection, such as redness, swelling, or heat.

Keep the feet well-cleaned. Drying the area between the toes is important after washing the feet.

In case there is a lot of moisture between your toes, applying methylated spirits is good.

Make sure to apply moisturizer, especially on the cracked heel area.

Tips To Keep In Mind While Buying New Shoes -

Don’t buy shoes if you feel uncomfortable wearing them.

Try to avoid investing in open-toed and narrow-toed shoes.

Always have your feet measured first before purchasing any shoe pair. Make sure you buy a long enough pair with enough space inside.

How To Prevent Yourself From Getting Any Injury To The Feet?

Though you can reduce the chances of getting foot complications by visiting your doctor regularly, here are some more tips that can help you avoid injury on your feet with damaged nerves.

Never go somewhere barefoot.

Always wear appropriate shoes.

Refrain from wearing shoes that are too snug.

Reduce the chances of injury by wearing protective shoes that are well-fitted.

Make sure your toenails are clipped regularly.

If you have corn or calluses, get them treated by a podiatrist in New York or anywhere near your place.

Before stepping into the bathtub, check the water temperature with your elbow.

Do not put your feet close to the radiant heaters.

Visit your doctor regularly to check signs such as reduced circulation, sensation on your foot or abnormal foot structure, etc.

When To See A Doctor?

See your doctor if you feel pain, heat, or swelling, and observe discoloration in your feet! In case you develop a cut on your feet that becomes red and does not heal for a long time, do not hesitate to make a trip to a nearby clinic.

Diabetes is a condition that can negatively affect the blood circulation in your body. In addition, it can cause damage to your nerves in the feet. If you have diabetes, you need to observe the signs of foot problems early. Getting treatment from a primary care doctor or podiatrist in New York can help you stay on top of your foot health!

#Podiatrist in New York #Podiatry Services New York #Foot clinic New York #Foot care services New York #Primary Care Doctor Brooklyn NY #Internal Medicine Doctor Brooklyn #Foot and Ankle clinic New York

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onafastpace-contracting · 1 year ago

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4 Reasons You Should Install Artificial Turf

Artificial turf has become increasingly popular in recent years, and for good reason. This low-maintenance alternative to natural grass offers a range of benefits that make it an attractive option for homeowners in Brooklyn. If you're considering installing artificial turf in your yard, here are four reasons why it's a great choice.

Low Maintenance

One of the biggest advantages of artificial turf is its low maintenance requirements. Unlike natural grass, which needs regular mowing, watering, and fertilizing, artificial turf requires minimal upkeep. You won't have to spend hours each week cutting the grass or worrying about brown patches. With artificial turf, you can say goodbye to the hassle of maintaining a perfectly manicured lawn and enjoy more free time for other activities.

Cost-Effective

While the initial cost of installing artificial turf may be higher than that of natural grass, it can save you money in the long run. With natural grass, you have ongoing expenses such as water bills, lawn care products, and equipment maintenance. Artificial turf eliminates these costs, as it doesn't require watering or regular treatments. Additionally, you won't have to spend money on expensive lawn care services, as artificial turf is virtually maintenance-free. Over time, the savings can add up significantly.

Durability and Longevity

Artificial turf is designed to withstand heavy foot traffic and extreme weather conditions. It's made from high-quality materials that are resistant to fading, tearing, and discoloration. Unlike natural grass, which can become patchy and worn out over time, artificial turf maintains its vibrant appearance year-round. It's also a great option for areas that receive limited sunlight, as it doesn't require direct sunlight to thrive. With proper installation and care, artificial turf can last for many years, providing you with a beautiful and functional outdoor space.

Environmental Benefits

Installing artificial turf can have positive environmental impacts. Firstly, it eliminates the need for watering, which helps conserve water, especially in areas with water scarcity or drought conditions. Additionally, artificial turf doesn't require pesticides or fertilizers, reducing the use of harmful chemicals that can seep into the soil and water sources. Lastly, by opting for artificial turf, you can reduce your carbon footprint by eliminating the need for gas-powered lawn mowers and other maintenance equipment.

In conclusion, artificial turf offers numerous advantages for homeowners in Brooklyn. From its low maintenance requirements and cost-effectiveness to its durability and environmental benefits, it's a great choice for those looking to enhance their outdoor spaces. Consider installing artificial turf in Brooklyn and enjoy a beautiful, hassle-free lawn all year round.

#artificial turf installation brooklyn #artificial turf brooklyn #artificial grass installation brooklyn #fake grass brooklyn #artificial grass brooklyn

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health-quest · 5 years ago

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Treatment Options for Common Foot and Ankle Injuries

Of all the sports injuries and conditions, injuries to the foot and ankle are among the most debilitating. The foot and ankle are complex structures that balance and support the weight of the body while providing mobility. Foot and ankle injuries like sprains are common in active, athletic individuals engaged in sports activities like basketball, soccer, hockey, cricket and running. Pain felt in the foot or ankle may be a minor or temporary concern, but chronic or intense discomfort is a sign of a more serious condition that will require treatment.

Here are the common foot and ankle injuries treated in multispecialty healthcare centers:

* Achilles Tendonitis * Ankle sprain * Plantar fasciitis * Athlete’s foot * Stress fractures * Shin splints * Hammertoe * Turf toe

Orthopedic services in Brooklyn based healthcare centers focus on easing pain and helping patients recover from the injury quickly and return to their previous level of activity. Learn more: http://bit.ly/2TQWg5u

#foot and ankle injuries #Orthopedic services in Brooklyn #rehabilitation services in Brooklyn #chiropractic care #neurology services brooklyn #orthopedic care brooklyn #hip pain treatment brooklyn #chiropractic adjustment brooklyn #chiropractic therapy brooklyn #arthritis pain treatment brooklyn

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gmfiswriting · 4 years ago

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A Stark for sure - Chapter Two

A/N: THANK YOU ALL FOR THE LOVE! So here you go; actual interaction between Tony and Calypso.

warning: angst-y lil piece

word count: 2.6 k

---

I should’ve taken that ride. Calypso sighed.

Brooklyn, 10 minutes ago.

“Yo kid, you sure you don’t want a ride?” Marcus yelled from across the street. “It’s almost 3 am, can’t be letting a kid like you walking home at this time.”

Calypso smiled as she was yanking at the now locked door of the restaurant. She turned towards Marcus’ direction and waved him off, “nah! I’m fine. Y’know it’s only a 15 minute walk.”

“You don’t know what can happen in 15 minutes!” He stated as he crossed the road again. Marcus, 17, the suave Latino senior at Midtown High School. The typical, lean, curly haired, tan guy that every girl and guy wanted to be friends with. “Plus you’re a little kid.” Marcus smirked and leaned against the window. Smirking, he casually pokes her side.

The action cause Calypso to jump and grab his hand in shock. “Marc! DON’T DO THAT!” She pouted and lightly kicked in his direction whilst taking a step back. “I may be little...” causing the boy to smirk and try to poke her again even though the girl held his wrist firmly, “but don’t forget who tutors you in chemistry, psychology and all that!” Calypso smirks as Marcus rolled his eyes. The usual ‘I’m-smarter-than-everyone-and-I-know-it’ Calypso Abreo vibe.

Marcus stood up straight and wrapped his arm around his shoulder. “Yeah. Yeah. You’re smart. Everyone knows.” He led her towards his motorbike as she struggled to walk away, “c’mon kid. I gotta make sure you get home safe or Mr. Lee will actually have my balls...” Marcus shivered at the thought while Calypso smirked and pulled away from him.

“Three thing. First, I’d pay to see tha- STOP!” She screamed as he poked her side again. Huffing, she continued, “secondly, I am walking home. I promise to call or text once I’m there.” He stared at her and she stared back.

“Fine!”

The girl smiled as they said their goodbyes. She turned and walked down the street as Marcus pulled up next to her again, “you forgot the third thing.” He pointed it out. Calypso kept walking as she stopped at their seperating street, she smiled innocently before insulting him by saying.

“I’d never let you drive again.” He gasped as crossed the road. A jab to his ego.

“I drive great!”

“Whatever you say, bud.”

Now, she stood there in an alley (which she shouldn’t have turned into) with a man holding a knife lazily.

“Give me your fucking money!”

“You sound like the vine.” She thought out loud before looking up towards a window, where she saw a woman talking into a phone frantically before signalling to the girl that the police were coming.

Letting out a sigh, she turned towards the man again and began to distract him. “Look man, I’m just 15. I have no money, unless $10 is enough for you. Y’know what,” she rambled on as she shifted from foot to foot, shuffling towards the trash cans as the man growled and lunged at her.

Calypso jumped back as he fell to the ground and grabbed the lid for the trash can before swinging it towards the man’s head. He yelled and grabbed his head as Calypso kicked the knife away and hit him with the lid every time he tried getting up.

“Hands up!” A husky voice sounded from the entrance. Calypso dropped the heavy item and turned towards the voice.

There stood Captain Holt, Detective Peralta and Detective Rosa. Three individuals that the young girl had gotten to know better over the past 2 years she had been living in Brooklyn. She gulped as Detective Rosa rushes past her and arrested the man before listing his rights.

“Now why are you out this late, kid?”

“Stuck on night duty, I see.” Calypso smirked up towards Detective Jake Peralta as Captain Holt stared down at her. “Fine. I finished late and I was walking home; wrong turn I guess...”

“You shouldn’t be walking home.” She wanted to interrupt the Captain but he grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her towards the car, “you know you shouldn’t do that. So you’ll be staying at the station until someone can come pick you up.”

---

“... Tony?” Happy called out. His friend hadn’t uttered more than a one word answer the whole drive; simply staring out the window or reading Pepper’s messages, not answering them though.

They had been parked outside the station for no longer than a minute. “Want me to go in w-,” before he could finish his sentence, Tony opened his door and told Happy to follow him.

Like a switch, the infamous ‘asshole’ Tony Stark came to life and his charisma overflowed. He smirked and walked up to the reception where he got instructions to head straight up stairs.

---

Calypso had been sitting by Gina Linetti’s desk, as she waited for Tony Stark. She didn’t know whether to call him dad, their interactions halted about 3 years ago. “Gina...” she called out to the brunette. “Please don’t be surprised about who picks me up. Like don’t instagram it or something...”

“Is it Beyoncé?”

“No but-.”

“Then I won’t care.” Gina answered, never even looking up from her phone.

Ding.

The elevator open and he stepped out. As he examined the room, Tony saw that long dark brown (almost black) hair. Calypso, he thought. People stopped and stared at him. Tony Stark. An Avenger. Iron Man was standing in their pen. They all started rushing towards him.

“Can I have a photo?”

“I love the Avengers.”

“I’m such a big fan.”

The usual comments while Tony tried to push past them towards the young girl. Gina stood and rushed towards the crowd whilst Calypso had stood up and waited by the desk; observing what was happening and not wanting to throw herself into the sea of people.

Hearing the commotion, Captain Halt walked out. “Everyone!” His workers stopped and stared at him, “back to your stations!” He demanded and was left slightly shocked, not that many would know from his reaction. Turning from Tony Stark to the young girl, he connected the dots. Nodding his head and gesturing towards his office for the two men and Calypso to talk.

“So, I’m guessing your Calypso’s father...” The Captain dragged on to which the Tony had confirmed. “Well. I’d just like to inform you of what had happened tonight and then we’ll see if you want to press charges.”

Calypso groaned. “No charges are to be pressed for me.” She stood and grabbed her bag, continuing her statement. “There’s no point. It’s a waste in time and money. He did commit assault and can be tested for substance abuse; give the man rehab not a shitty community service order.”

“Honey,” Tony started and turned towards his daughter to which she uncomfortably looked away from. This didn’t go unnoticed by the room, “you could’ve been hurt.”

“There’s no point in it, though.” The men knew she wasn’t going to ask for charges so Captain Holt pressed on.

“Fine. If no charges are to be pushed then please make sure you’re not walking home alone in the middle of the night. Mr. Stark, Mr. Hogan, please ensure this from now on. Good night, gentleman.” Raymond Holt stood and shook their hands before opening the door.

Walking out, Happy took charge while Raymond stood in his spot; staring down anyone that watched the father and daughter duo. Tony’s arm was wrapped around Calypso’s shoulder to shield her and comfort her from the stares. The girl only felt unsure about everything. How to react to the stares, the whispering, the contact with the man next to her. It was confusing that it was a fact her father was there in minutes for her, not questioning why but she knew he felt the need to make sure she was safe and okay. Maybe it was guilt but it truly wasn’t

AS they sat in the car, Tony couldn’t stop gaping like a fish; completely unsure on what to say or do while the young girl just stared out the window while feeling the same, if not more, uncertainty. The only time she had spoken when she told Happy her address and she wasn’t surprised about the fact that her father furrowed his brows to the new information. She had a guess that the man didn’t know the news about her mother but she couldn’t just bring it up. Sitting up straight and turning towards him with a small smile. “You okay, da-Mr. Stark?”

Happy looked at the central mirror to gauge his friend’s reaction to his precious daughter not calling him by that simple title. “Oh. Yeah. Perfect.” Tony nodded and slapped that stupid smirk on to which Happy shook his head to but brought a frown to Calypso’s innocent face. ‘She sees right through me,’ he thought to himself. She frowned more and this caused him to start blurting out random questions such as,

So how have you been?

So you work at a restaurant? Wait no café. No, a restaurant. Job experience is cool-important.

Don’t you have school tomorrow?

A cough interrupted the flustered old man’s nervous speech but luckily Calypso had given enough effort to sustain the conversation. “We’re here,” Happy spoke as he pulled up outside the townhouses. It made sense that Florence would choose this area to raise his girl. Happy and Tony knew her to be a comprising woman; not one to give up the bustling, city life but wanting to still live something suburb-able.

Staring at the townhouses, Tony started to think. Think about what could have been. Would there have been days where he would be stuck in his office and Florence would have to pry him away from his work? Days where he would have a casual stroll with Calypso when she was feeling overwhelmed? Nights spent watching movies together on the couch? Maybe a time where he would finally be able to cook something edible?

A million thoughts ran through his head and Calypso stared at him, wandering about the same things. What would life have been with him there? Where would she be? Who would she be?

“Um.” She spoke aloud and opened the door cautiously, “thanks for the ride home.” Smiling towards both men and exiting the car quickly. Crossing the street safely, a hand wrapped around her arm gently. Turning to the person, Tony was staring down at her.

“I’m sorry…” Confusion was written on her face so he elaborated, “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there and I’m sorry I never tried to reach out…” He continued to apologise but it was one line that got to her. Happy watched from the car but saw the girl’s expression start to fall. A reaction he remembered that was identical to her mother’s. One that would only show when she was truly overwhelmed. “I’m sorry to you and your mother that I wasn’t there but I promise to be there from now on. For both of you.” Tears ran down her face, this was too much. All of this was too much. Calypso started to gasp for air and pushed him harshly. Shocked and fearful of the reaction, he stumbled back into his friend’s arms as the girl swiftly entered her home.

---

“What did I do?” Tony’s head was in his hands. He hadn’t been muttering to himself down in his lab before Pepper had dragged him out to the kitchen to ensure he at least ate something. The man had been stuck in his mind since the whole ordeal. Happy had to reassure him while Rhodes had tried to distract him with a new app Peter had showed the other, Tik Tok.

Steve and Natasha had walked in and out the dining area about 4 times, all unnoticed by the genius. “Tones, you good?” Natasha spoke right into his ear, very loudly. The only reaction she got was a sigh, a shrug and more mumbling.

His other teammates started to show up for lunch. Sam and Bucky were (unfortunately for everyone) to set the table which took the whole duration for the large meal to be cooked. Wanda smiled as she continued to cook and spoke softly to Tony. James Rhodey had filled everyone that something had happened and now they needed to make sure Tony didn’t spiral and make another Ultron. Bruce had to manoeuvre Tony to a seat at the table before they all ate. Chatter was small but steady; everyone uncomfortable with the state their friend was in, Peter especially. He had been holding in a question. Claypso Abreo. One of the nicest girls from Midtown. The sweetest, cutest girl that almost, if not every guy had a crush on. He needed to know how the man knew his crush; not that he had a crush on her (well not that he admit it).

“Hey Mr. Stark.” Peter’s voice was louder than usual but no one paid mind to it. “How do you know Cal?”

Tony turned slowly to his protégé, “Cal?” Everyone froze. This was the first word he had actually spoke aloud and an actual answer to any question.

The boy gulped as his team/childhood heroes were staring him down, “yeah… Calypso.” That name again. Steve and Natasha shared a look again. “Everyone calls her Cal. She goes to my school. Big deal at my school. She’s really cute and smart and funny. An actual genius smart too. Like we’re meant to be in the same classes but she’s doing senior AP classes now.”

Tony continues to stare at the boy. This was a lot of information about his daughter coming at him at once. Rhodey was listening too but was watching the other’s reaction towards this scene; all of them eating whilst staring at either Peter’s rambling or Tony’s awed expression while still maintain another conversation. No one seemed to notice the loud booming steps walking towards the kitchen.

“… I don’t think she knows I exists. Like we met when she transferred into my calc class halfway through freshman year. Heard she had to move back to New York when her mum got sick. We bonded over a lot though. Oh yeah apparently she was born here in Man-“ The boy felt embarrassed. He had just realised how much of a simp he sounded like but he couldn’t shut up.

“Her mum got sick?” Rhodey questioned.

Peter stopped and stared at him, nodding. “Yeah. Cancer.”

Tony stiffened. “Cancer?”

“Yeah. Something in the brain? Cal changed when she died. I remember she didn’t show up to class for like a month…” Peter dragged on but Tony’s heart stopped. His hands started to sweat and its seemed like air was a pill he couldn’t swallow. His head simultaneously felt as light as a feather and too heavy to keep up. Steve stood up as he saw his friend swaying. The others stood too but Rhodey who stared down at his plate in shock

Everyone was scared. They called out for him as he stumbled back out of his chair and tried to run out. The team followed him out. He just needed to run away from that information. He couldn’t process it because to him it simply wasn’t real. Tony bumped into a body that held him up. He couldn’t resist as 4 simple words ran through his mind.

Florence. Died.

She’s. Dead.

Nick Fury held Tony up with a syringe in his hand, completely aware of the staring. Fury had an apologetic look on his face and that’s when he realised, Nick knew. Fury knew everything. He started grasping for air and pulling away from him. The brunette looked towards his teammates for help. Steve, Vision and Rhodes all stepped forward but Fury injected with the liquid into his neck with no problem and they all watched as the man’s eyes fluttered close.

And the last thing he heard was Fury’s voice whispering, “Stark. I’m sorry.”

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la-fille-en-aiguilles · 5 years ago

Text

Blackout | Random One-Shot Series, #2

Billy Russo x Female Reader

Second Billy Russo one-shot featuring one nasty citywide blackout. But really, it’s just a matter of perspective.

Warnings: S.M.U.T., language.

Synopsis: What happens when a major blackout hits the city of New York, and you find yourself stuck with Billy goddamn Russo in an elevator, your least favorite person under the sun? Well, you’re about to find out.

Feeling cold winter wind bite at the bare skin of your calves, you mentally curse yourself for zapping that pair of tights, now peacefully resting at your place on the kitchen table. Pacing back and forth in front of a posh building, gleamed with secretive whispers of for-glamorous-crowd-only, you keep squeezing your phone, waiting on Karen to show up with a fervency of a Christian awaiting for the second coming of Christ.

Oddly enough, the metaphor quite fits: through the glass doors of the apartment complex you make out polished wood floors of a foyer that could accommodate hell of a lot of sinners and a graceful mirror-like doors of an elevator that probably go all the way to heaven.

Why Karen has chosen this 12,000-square-foot executive lifestyle hub, a dramatic and tasteless atrocity, to hold Frank’s surprise birthday party is beyond your understanding. Even though you only arrived ten minutes ago you already miss your loft in Brooklyn, where everything feels warm, spacious and familiar.

Karen is running late, but what else is new. As much as you want to help her with the finishing touches, there is no way in hell you’re going up there all alone. You frown as you wonder for a second if there are already people up at Billy Russo’s penthouse quarters, because you’d rather freeze to death than find yourself one on one with the man. It’s been so long it has become a running inside joke among your close circle of friends - with you and Billy locked in the same room, the only way either of you is getting out is in a body bag.

Still, despite of their big mouths, you love your friends. So you make an effort to care about almost everything and everyone they hold dear.

There are, of course, exceptions. Tired of waiting outside in the cold, with a deep sigh, you enter the building. After a brief hesitation, you force yourself to push the elevator button and once it arrives, you step inside, inhaling a pleasant, sugary smell. Even if no one has arrived yet – in New York people tend to be late, just to make everyone think they have a life – you’d simply make yourself scarce and hide out in Russo’s bathroom until Karen or Curtis finally decide to show.

Just when the doors of the elevator are about to slide shut, a deep, raw voice calls out to you :

“Could you hold the doors for me please?...”

Driven by the sense of civic duty and by sheer curiosity, you press the necessary button. Little do you know, one look at the man’s face would make you want to singlehandedly shut them if needed, with his head smashed in between, his brain leaking out his ears and onto the floors.

Here he is. Your almost everyone. Your exception.

The first thing you see is, of course, his toned chest, wrapped in a neat white shirt that probably costs more than this goddamn building, and a hell of a don’t-fuck-with-me attitude. His eyes, deep bottomless black oceans with glimmering flakes of ice, narrow as soon as he spots you, the muscles in his strong jaw chiseling.

“Y/L/N,” he breathes out in a badly masked annoyance, as he stumbles into the elevator, nearly slamming his right shoulder into your frame.

“Russo,” you retort, rolling your eyes. Out of all people attending the goddamn party, it’s with The fucking Pretty Boy that you somehow happen to share the elevator ride.

The last thing you want is to deal with Russo’s narcissistic antics and inferiority complex. The last time you crossed paths with him, you ended up bitching at each other for thirty minutes straight, making nasty side comments to each other until the all-American self-made jerk has finally crossed a line and you smashed a huge chunk of Curtis’ birthday cake into his face.

So yeah, Russo and you aren’t exactly buddies. And you remember exactly why.

“Aren’t you a ray of sunshine today,” surprised at the fact that Russo dares to attempt a small talk, you turn to stare at him blankly, second guessing how exactly he is expecting you to react.

Russo meets your gaze head-on, his eyes nearly begging you to start an argument.

Geez, you’re taken somewhat aback. Someone’s got their panties in a twist.

Your last chance to escape a long, torturous ride with the person you dislike most in the world goes out the window just as the doors of the elevator finally slide close.

“I was before you showed your face,” you fire back after sizing him up and turning away. From the corner of your eyes you notice Russo’s expression, like someone has just shit on his face.

“If youl keep looking at me like that the lunch in my stomach will turn sour”, you add, your eyes stubbornly fixed on the glowing numbers above the doors.

3 – 4 – 5….

Russo huffs contemptuously at your comeback, hatred that his body’s emanating hitting you in nauseating waves.

“Charming, as usual,” Billy states bitterly, showing mercy for your lunch for some reason and immediately looking away. Choosing to ignore whatever his problem is with you today, you fish your iPhone out of the Balenciaga bag, wanting to check whether Karen has shown any sign of being alive. Lightening up the dim screen and steadily fighting your desire to spit in Russo’s face with a booming Fuck Off!, you dial Page’s number, silently begging her to pick up.

“Hey, Y/N. What’s up?” Karen answers on the fifth beep, her voice a little too thin, betraying an emotion you can’t quite place. Page quickly clears her throat before continuing. “You’re….uh…. You’re at the party yet?”

“Hey to you too,” you raise an eyebrow in suspicion, worry digging a hole in your lower stomach. “So you’re not yet at the rave that you’re yourself throwing?... Classy, ” your eyes still glued to the switching numbers, you try to ignore the way your skin ripples, feeling Russo’s eyes piercing through your head. Surprised at your own angst, you squeeze your eyes shut and try to ignore the jerk’s presence entirely.

“Gee, I take it you stumbled into Russo,” Karen’s guess seems all too perfect, and you give Billy a suspicious side look. “I asked him to go fetch candles for the cake because I am already late as it is... I sure as hell hope he did not invite any bimbos to the party tonight, because I know how much you…”

“…thank you, Karen, you’ve made your point!” you blurt out as you try to contain the blush you know is spreading across your cheeks. Every time Karen speaks, she’s loud and confident - there is no doubt Russo heard every single word. “Listen, we’re in the elevator, I’ll shoot you a text when we’re….”

…at his place. The words never leave your lips. What you do let out is a yelp when your entire body jerks, the world spinning before your eyes. Your iPhone falls flat on the floor as the elevator comes to an abrupt stop, the building’s lights all going out simultaneously just as you lose your balance. When you’re about to fall back on the cold and dirty floors, you vaguely register strong hands snake around your waist, keeping you in place. It all happens in what feels like a millisecond, smooth and so frustratingly natural, that without even thinking twice about it, you go with a flow. Back in the vertical position, you blink rapidly as a few emergency lights turn on, casting a dim glow on the confined elevator space and your palms, pressed against Russo’s rock-hard, lean chest.

His scent immediately engulfs you, a subtle mix of oud and hickory spices, and you suddenly realize you’ve only been this close before once, save for the moment you smudged a piece of cake all over his face.

As you catch on Karen’s distressed voice, coming from the phones’ speaker, you fight off the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. As soon as they’re dealt with, you use your hands to push away from Russo’s dangerously enticing body, uncomfortable with the thoughts that circle around in your head.

And just like that, whatever it was that you shared just for a second, this moment, is gone. You pick up your phone, pressing it against your ear, as Billy backs himself against the wall, groaning and facepalming at the same time, the reality only starting to hit him from the looks of it.

“Guys? Helloooo? What the hell happened?!” Karen’s voice comes and goes, the service shitty on whatever floor you’ve stuck.

“Karen!” you exclaim, low key panicking. “Hey, Karen, we’re alright, we’re just stuck in the goddamn elevator!”

You press your free hand against the other ear in an attempt to hear Page better.

“She can’t do anything,” you flash Russo an irritated look, ignoring his words.

“Okay, listen you two, I’m going to call the building’s security or the fire department or whatever so they can try and get you out before you bite each other’s heads off. Meanwhile, I suggest that you sort out whatever the hell is going on between you two, because I won’t be held responsible for two deaths when I barely had time to enjoy my relationship with Frank. Understood?”

Something in Karen’s tone makes the horror of the situation finally dawn on you.

“Fuck,” you groan, running fingers through your messed up hair. You can almost swear you hear Russo echo your words. “Yeah alright, it isn’t like we have much of choice anyway. I’ll see you later then,” you say before giving Russo one of your trademark glares. “If I’m not behind bars for a homicide by the time help arrives”.

“Don’t worry”, Karen responds rather cheerfully. “I’ll bail your ass out.”

As soon as the call ends, heavy silence settles in, so thick you could cut it with a butter knife.

“Do you think the dynamic duo planned it?” Russo finally speaks, referring to Karen and Frank, without any doubt, as he leans against the wall and crosses his strong arms across his chest.

“Sure, they planned a fucking blackout. Your denseness never ceases to amaze, Russo”.

Upon the hearing of your unceremonious comment, Billy narrows his eyes, watching you, sporting a glower fierce enough to put the fear of God in anyone.

This is sure going to be a long wait.

******

The silence in the elevator is deafening. It’s so quiet, Billy swears he can hear the dust move in whirls, its thin layers disturbed by your heavy and impatient breathing. With your cheeks red and your eyes darting all over the elevator, you breathe in and out. It probably takes every once of your self-control not to grab him by his hair and smash his head against the elevator panel, repeatedly, till the fucking thing can function again.

Billy watches you fume silently in your corner, the question he’s been asking himself for ages threatening to fall off his tongue.

He hears you sigh again, as you wipe tiny beads of sweat from your forehead, and he knows. He just knows that this is his chance to get some answers. Actually, he couldn’t have found a more convenient time and place to demand some kind of an explanation from you – at least, now, you have nowhere to run.

“Why do you hate me so much, Y/L/N?” Russo’s voice cuts the silence like an nuclear bomb going off. He can feel your entire body shudder as you turn your head in his direction, your eyes widening a bit, as if you’ve just acknowledged he was here the entire time.

Billy knows exactly what to expect from you, and as you confirm his expectations, he starts to regret his attempt at a heart-to-heart talk with you.

You roll your eyes before crossing your hands over your chest, your stare blank but determined.

“Please,” you huff, “I don’t hate you, Russo. Hating is exhausting”.

“Exactly,” Billy picks up almost immediately after you’re finished talking. “Why waste all that energy?”

You look at him, chomping on your lips in annoyance.

“I said I don’t hate you,” you repeat stubbornly. “In order to hate you I’d have to be emotionally invested. And I’m not. If you must know, you’re an asshole, and it’s just that I have zero tolerance for assholes”.

For some reason, your answer makes Billy chuckle quite heartily, as he turns away and slides down the elevator wall to sit on his ass. Spreading his legs some, he stretches his long arms and puts them on top of his knees, his head pressed against the cool wall.

“Something funny?” still standing, you narrow your eyes at him.

Russo bites on his lips in order to keep his outburst of emotion in, and shakes his head, like you’re hopeless and he’s done with you. This makes your blood boil in your veins.

Arrogant little fucker.

“If you have something to say, just say it,” your tone is dismissive and calm for the most part, but it suffices to wipe the smirk from Russo’s face.

“Why bother?” he asks bitterly, his black eyes sparkling in the red light. “You probably have your head filled with bitchy comebacks that you’ve been preparing for this kind of situation. I’d rather you keep your mouth shut and we spend time stuck in this hot box in silence”.

Before you even realize it, you push off the wall of the elevator, your eyes blazing.

“Excuse me?” you hiss. “You are the one asking me to fucking talk! And when I do, you’re surprised that I actually have balls to tell you the truth, unlike all those Barbie bitches you spend your time with, getting off at the sound of them saying how awesome you are”.

Russo’s jaw drops open slightly. He definitely didn’t expect you to push back, but he should have known better by now.

A real Ballbuster, aren’t you?

“So this is why you’re always such a bitch to me,” Billy feigns revelation, his lips stretched in what can only be described as a devilish grin. “Is this because of that night in New York two years ago? When you had to ruin everything, without even telling me what the fuck was wrong?”

The way you watch him, unblinking, biting the inside of your cheek lets Billy know he has just hit a nail on the head. He doesn’t know what he’s expected from you, but it definitely wasn’t nothing; and that is exactly what he’s faced with.

You don’t speak. You blink a couple of times, hanging on to your composure, probably even mentally counting to ten... For a moment there, Billy thinks you really are going to kick him in the balls and thus justify the nickname that he’s long since given you.

But it’s like you don’t even see him anymore. Turning your entire body away from him, you stare at the closed doors, peeling off your jacket, hot leather sticking to your arms.

Billy’s watching your every move, taking in your body slowly and you can’t help but feel exposed – vulnerable. When his eyes meet yours, he asks:

“Why?”

His voice is stern, yet calm, and you bite on the bottom lip, your stomach churning.

Both of you know exactly what he’s talking about.

“It’s not important,” you finally speak, your voice steadier than you thought it’d be. “No one gives a damn anymore”.

“I do”, Billy’s voice rolls over you like thunder, your skin tingling at the sound. “I give a damn. If it wasn’t important, you wouldn’t take every opportunity to chew me the fuck out when I’m around”.

He stands up in one gracious move, and makes a couple of steps in your direction, closing the space between the two of you. The smell of his cologne hits your nostrils again as he finally rests one of his arms on the wall behind you.

Staring into his pitch black irises, you still hold your ground, not moving an inch.

“What did I do?” Billy whispers, his lips itching closer to your face.

“What didn’t you do!” you throw both of your hands in the air, making Russo back off instinctively. Your mind is reeling, and you suddenly realize that all the shit you’ve had brewing inside of your head because of Russo for so long has got to spill out. You’re a bit surprised when you see a flash of relief momentarily grace Billy’s stare, but you brush the thought away quickly.

He wants to know why you hate him, well, the fucker is about to find out.

Billy watches you in what can only be described as an awe as you push towards him, until it’s his turn to back right into the wall. He’s about to ask what the hell do you think you’re doing, but the question is caught in his throat when you start to yell, finally letting go of all the anger you had bubbling inside for so long.

“How fucking dare you pretend like this is all some huge surprise to you?”, you’re full-on screaming now, and tears are ringing in your voice. “I thought we shared something that evening. I loved spending time with you on the roof, after everyone’s left! And I made it pretty fucking clear that night that I wanted you. I fucking told you so. I was waiting for your ass for hours, and a fucking prick that you are, I shouldn’t have been surprised to see you suck Madani’s face off the next day at the Homeland’s!”

God knows that this is a fucked-up situation. And as twisted as it is, your anger stirs something inside of Billy, causing his blood to flow south, straight to his groin.

“Have you any fucking idea what that felt like, with Madani and the others talking behind my back, the girl who was ready to spread her legs in front of Billy fucking Russo, and he didn’t even bother to take what was offered? Of course you don’t, because you didn’t give a shit. You barely looked at me, let alone spoke to me for the last two years, and now you dare asking me what did you do?!”

“You are insane”, Billy can’t help the harshness in his tone as he hears your ridiculous lies. As the words leave his mouth, he instantly regrets them, but the damage’s done. You turn your head away from him, hugging yourself, ashamed of the tears slowly rolling down your cheeks.

“I don’t understand,” he runs his fingers through his hair in desperation.

“Of course you don’t,” you huff, and quickly wipe your tear-stained cheeks. “You are so used to everything being offered to you.”

“Not everything”, Billy bites back, feeling irritated and helpless, because he is just so confused. “I texted you that night after you left the party telling you how much I, too, loved spending time with you. I even asked you out on a date for breakfast next morning. You never fucking answered.”

You stare at him like he’s grown a penis on his forehead.

“Were you that drunk?” you let out a bitter laugh. “I told you I’d have loved to, and I said that we could order in, and gave you my fucking address! Drop the fucking surprised act, Russo, you wrote me you were coming over! And of course you never showed. You left me feeling like a stupid whore, more so when I saw you kissing Madani on the steps of the Homeland Security next morning, out of all people!”

Confused expression slowly fades from Billy’s face. Something clicks in his head, and he looks like he’s finally assembling a puzzle on which he’s been working for quite some time.

“I’ve never gotten your texts. I checked twice that night… After Frankie brought my phone that I left at the bar, where Curtis, him and a couple of my Anvil guys were playing poker after the party…”

Silence is tense, and you can hear your ragged breaths join in an odd kind-of harmony.

“...Madani was with them, wasn’t she?” your voice is barely a whisper, when you finally figure it out.

“And Madani was there with them, yeah”, Billy repeats, still struck. “Unbelievable. The bitch hacked my phone.”

How dared she take his phone and violate his privacy like that? How fucking dared she meddle with something so important to him?

The next twenty minutes pass by slowly, the only sound coming from the confusion within the building. Both Billy and you don’t speak, letting this new discovery sink in, before he finally breaks and says:

“I’m an asshole.”

You look at him questioningly, and he can tell you're distancing yourself from him.

“I just saw you laughing with Curtis that morning when you showed up at Homeland, you looked so happy, and you didn’t even look at me, I was… hurt,” he confesses, staring into the ceiling. “I acted like a goddamn fool, and for that I am sorry”.

“It’s fine,” you answer almost immediately, avoiding his gaze. “Whatever. What’s done is done. It’s been two years, I honestly couldn’t care less”.

And there it is. Billy can see it now. The mask you wear whenever he enters the room. He isn’t going to buy it, not this time, when he’s finally gotten you to let your guard down a little, when you’ve finally admitted how hurt you were… When you’ve finally admitted you cared, for this entire time.

“You’re lying”, you shiver as Billy reaches out, his hands sliding up your arm, until his fingers grip your elbow. He manages to draw you closer to him, his mouth nearly caressing your ear as he whispers the words to you.

When you turn your head, ever so slightly, you catch his black eyes that burn into yours, and the rough grip of his fingers tightens on your hipbones.

How…? For how long has he been touching you like that?

When Billy’s name escapes your lips, it comes out in a breath, your tongue and lips caressing every syllable.

“I’ve been tortured for two years, thinking about how my name will sound falling off your lips,” Billy whispers, his eyes drinking in every detail of your face. “The way your pulse goes crazy when I touch you like that,” his lips hover over a sensitive spot next to your jawline as he speaks, “tells me you don’t mean it. Tells me that you care.”

Billy’s lips press against the tender beating just below your ear, and the sensation is overwhelming. You moan involuntary, as your skin catches fire, your hips bucking into his.

“I want it slow,” he says, his voice hoarse, but his hungry hands, running down your sides and squeezing your ass, tell another story entirely. “I want you to feel just what you have been missing”.

Heat pools in between your thighs in answer to his words, bare millimetres separating your lips. You take a second to look into Billy’s eyes, glassy, his irises so dark they’re indistinct… Burning rooms filled with dense smoke.

Billy meets your lips halfway, soft, full and demanding. He slips his tongue into your mouth, eliciting a moan from you, that he swallows greedily. His hands fist your hair, as he deepens the kiss, biting on your bottom lip.

It’s a feverish and emotional kiss, and Billy could pass out from the relief of feeling your mouth on his. He even fucking dreamed about this moment. Granted, in his mind this was never happening during a citywide blackout in an elevator, but it wasn’t as powerful as it feels right now, either.

He takes in every movement of your tongue, massaging his, every gasp falling off your swollen, reddened lips, and he’s so hard his pants might fucking split. The things get worse when you wrap your hands around his neck, your bodies pressed to each other in all the right places. Billy growls, something animalistic in the way he moves, when he grabs your hips again and lifts you up, pinning you to the wall.

The friction that results from your movements makes both of you moan, and you are suddenly glad you didn’t put that pair of tights on. Billy’s calloused hands slide up your thighs, your dress a mop of chiffon around your waist. When he presses one of his thumbs to that pulsating spot in between your legs, you swear under your breath; then he pushes your lingerie out of the way and draws circles on and around that swollen bud, making you whimper and bite his bottom lip so rough it surely must hurt.

“Please, Billy,” you gasp, and dig your nails in the back of his neck.

“Please what?” he asks, his breath hitting your collarbone.

When you don’t speak, grinding your hips on him, Billy growls again.

“You want me to fuck you raw, is that it?” your eyes go wide at his words, but your thighs part further. “I know, baby, I want that too. I need to feel you”.

Pressing your body into the elevator wall with his weight, Billy makes short work of his pants, letting them slide down his thighs. Quickly slipping a condom out of the pocket of his dark grey number, he tears the foil packet and rolls the latex on himself. Then he guides you gently as you lower yourself onto him, and you both gasp at the contact.

He bucks his hips to meet yours, and the feeling is exquisite. Billy cups your ass in his large hands, pushing his cock deeper inside of you, and your mind is reeling, as his mouth sucks on your neck so hard it’s sure going to leave a mark.

Billy circles his hips slowly in an attempt to find that spot, the one that will have you screaming his name in seconds. He nearly makes himself tear his gaze away from your chest, beads of sweat rolling in between your breasts. The shape of them is fucking perfect.

Your nails dig harder into his neck and that how he knows he found the spot he’s been searching for. His thrusting speeds up, and he can’t help but curse as your back arches into him. Your lips bite into his as you come undone, muffling your screams of pleasure.

Two more thrusts, as deep as they would go, and Billy moans, spilling into the condom.

Both of you are a panting mess, as you press your foreheads together. This is the moment the steady white light chooses to suddenly flick on.

“Right on time,” you whisper against his lips. You smirk at each other, and moments later it’s a full-blown laugh.

Letting you slide off him smoothly, Billy can’t stop picturing the way your body looked, pressed against his, as he wraps his silk handkerchief around the used condom and tucks it into one of the pocket of his trousers. He buckles his belt, never looking away. As you smile at him adjusting your dress, he cups your face and smashes his lips into yours, letting them linger.

Thank God for the fucking blackout, he thinks, lacing your fingers together, facing the elevator doors again. He turns his head to you though, because he can’t help the urge to stare at you, admire how beautiful you look with your wild eyes and smudged lipstick, still wearing the heat from his kisses and that rumpled dress…

Thank you for reading! Feedback and other blackout-related ideas are appreciated!

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo x you #billy russo smut #ben barnes #ben barnes imagine #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes oneshot #ben barnes smut #the punisher imagine #the punisher

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trillian-anders · 5 years ago

Text

amor de mi vida - 1949

pairing: bucky barnes x latinx!reader

warnings: racism, prejudice, fluff, angst, smut

word count: 3362

description: Bucky Barnes is a sweet young Brooklyn boy, just on the cusp of manhood, a hopeless romantic that falls in love with almost every girl he sees. when he sets his eyes on a young girl fresh off the boat from Cuba he finds out how hard love can really be.

for @cake-writes 1940s challenge.

Sunset Park was ever growing with Hispanic population, in the years since you and your Mother came to New York the population had grown and people, while still not allowing certain people to mix, there was a little less of a stigma of someone brown walking down the street. Surprisingly enough the property you’d found was right across the street from the bodega where Bucky had first dragged you in trying to buy bread and the man refused you. It straddled the line of the Hispanic and white population in Brooklyn.

It was the perfect spot.

The upstairs level would be for sewing and crafting, the downstairs would house the shop and sales. Bucky and George painted the upstairs and downstairs, fit new light fixtures, and fixed the shoddy wiring that hadn’t been worked on, you were convinced, since electric light had been invented.

“What do you think?” He asked, coveralls splattered with paint and sweat on his brow. You grin up at him,

“I love it.”

The women you’d been selling dresses to over the past few years now had somewhere to shop and you could sell more products standardly while offering tailoring services. A big, ‘EVERYONE WELCOME’ sign in the front window. Which means you had to hire more people. You stuck to hiring women, the women who wanted to work in your community.

You figured things were going pretty well, until the first time you were vandalized. Broken glass and a clear message of not being welcome a month into opening. You couldn’t help but figure it might have something to do with the man across the street who seemed to remember your faces.

He stood there now, arms crossed. Lips pressed so tight they almost disappeared from his face. You huff, trying not try cry as the girls help you sweep up the glass. You called Bucky, knowing he was home with the kids, from the back office.

“The front window is shattered.” You couldn’t help but cry when you heard his voice.

“Okay,” He sighed, you could hear Grant fussing in the background, “Let me call my Pa and I’ll see what we can do.” The police didn’t care, but George was the one who originally talked to the inspectors and bank having already started his own business before.

He had someone out in an hour to fix the window and to install new, easier to pull down, grate for them.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked, he’d finally got the kids to sleep. The excitement of Mama coming home and a quick dinner had been followed by a carefully orchestrated bath and bedtime routine. Now it was just the two of you, and the bottle of wine you’d opened.

“We are very lucky,” You start, “In New York they haven’t banned us being together, they segregate, sure, but we have a good amount of people who believe in integration. We don’t have a lot of problems with prejudice so sometimes I forget.” His hand met the back of your neck, massaging. “It’s just a little bit of a wake-up call.”

He shrugs, “I thought that now Jackie Robinson was playing for the Dodgers that people would be a little more accepting.” You glare at him and he laughs. “If we are being honest here...” Bucky sighs, taking a sip from his glass, “I worry about our kids.” He leans further into the couch, “I worry all the time about the day we have to send Jaime to school, I worry about them playing outside. I worry about things happening to you and the kids when I’m not here.”

People respected Bucky Barnes. He was a war hero, right hand man to Captain America himself. You lost count of the amount of times you’d take the kids for a walk and be stopped. Women wanting his autograph and men wanting to thank him for his service to the country. There was a level of protection there. It was possible that it was keeping you and your children safe. Not out of the realm of thought. Especially when you were actually with him out.

Without him was tight smiles and folks crossing the street to avoid you, like you were some kind of threat to them.

You lay your legs on his lap, wordlessly asking him to rub your aching feet. You’d worked the floor all day, first cleaning up glass and then helping with customers and you did four fittings in the afternoon. He drains his glass and begins to rub your stocking clad feet.

“How was the shop today besides the window?” Thumbs digging into the sole of your foot you moan, letting your head roll back against the armrest of the couch.

“Good, we sold ten dresses.” He switched to a different foot, “I think Amara and Rosalyn are a little more than friends.” He pauses, looking at you.

“Like?” You nod.

“Huh.” He shrugs, “That makes a lot more sense.” The two women, your first employees, told you they moved in together to save money and were tired of living in the boarding house. With their savings they bought a cute little property not far from the store. They also adopted a few animals.

“What did you think?” He shakes his head,

“I just thought they were strange.” They always seemed so fidgety, like they were doing something suspicious when you weren’t in the room, but it would make sense of having the fear of getting caught. An interracial marriage some could be okay with, but a same-sex marriage? That was a whole different story.

His fingers danced their way up your skirt, to your hose, removing the stay ups slowly, keeping eye contact, while massaging your foot with his other hand his fingers slipped under the hose and rolled the first one down your leg. Then the other.

“I missed you today.” He whispered, kissing your ankle. “We all missed you today.” He tapped your leg, tugging gently on your thigh to get you to sit up, straddling his lap. His erection was already straining against his trousers. You ground yourself against him, meeting his lips. His hands held your hips, moving you against him enough to tease. “It’s so sexy,” He whispers, going for the button on his slacks, you lift up, shimmying your panties off and tossing them to the side. “You're going off to work,” A breathy kiss, you bury your fingers in his hair, tilting his head back as you press kisses down his jaw and onto his neck. “You’re so talented dahlin.” He groaned as you sunk down onto him, rocking your hips with his hands. “So fucking talented.”

“Te quiero mucho.” Kisses wet and sloppy as you muffle your moans against his lips. His hand held the back of your neck, body slipping down to hover his hips off the couch, bringing your body close to his in order to thrust upward into you. Mouth pressed tightly to keep quiet while you came, fingers dipping between your thighs to strum your clit, riding out the pleasure while Bucky’s hips stuttered with release.

“I love you too sweetheart.” Erection staying stiff inside you. He breathes and lets you collapse on top of him before sighing, “We forgot to use a rubber.”

And just like that, pregnant again.

You pretended to be hateful. “This is all your fault.” But Bucky just laughed. “You planned this.” Grant crawled over his shoulder, going to tumble down his back, letting Bucky catch him before he falls, laughing and doing it again. Dia and Jaime were playing with the new dollhouse she’d received for her birthday. A present that ‘Santa’ brought her, but was really bought from Macy’s and you didn’t even want to ask Winnie how much it cost.

This pregnancy was a little rougher than the last three. You felt sick constantly and the ginger mints only did so much, aside from the fact that you started showing almost immediately. Your feet were swollen from working at the store and a rushed doctor visit was needed after you’d started spotting.

“Bed rest.” Was what the doctor said, you’d huffed indignantly. The last three pregnancies you’d lived normally up until the day they were born and the doctor had the nerve to tell you that it was because you were older now. You weren’t even thirty yet.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky tried to calm you down after you cursed the Doctor, “He’s an asshole, but if he’s recommending bed rest, you should probably rest.” So the keys to the shop were handed over to Amara and Rosalyn.

“I hate this.” You grumbled, the kids were a mess today, and you felt very stressed. You couldn’t do anything right for Jaime, Dia seemed to want nothing to do with you, and Grant was throwing a tantrum over a soft breeze. “When are you coming home?” You could hear him pause on the other end,

“About an hour left and I should be on my way.” The longest hour of your life.

The sickness, the bleeding, the swollen feet. You’d been blessed with twins by the way your belly was measuring. “You did this.” And Bucky laughed.

You sat in Peggy’s kitchen, snacking on a cheese plate she layed out for the two of you, grumbling about it.

“He doesn’t know what it’s like.” Peggy, radiant as ever, nods in understanding, “In the seven years of our marriage I’ve been pregnant for four of them. The other three he was gone.” Every year you’d been together resulting in pregnancy. Jaime and Dia within months of each other. Grant a little while after that, and then a break in between him and now. “I love my kids,” You defend, “But you’ll understand when you have them.” You sigh, rubbing your belly, “It’s difficult.”

“I’m not sure Steve and I are ready quite yet.” She laughs, “Our work is dangerous,” She wasn’t joking. You knew their apprehensions, you felt them every time Bucky walked out the door. You weren’t sure if he was coming home or not, every time. “But I’m living vicariously through you in the meantime.” The playpen was set up in the living room, the three kids in view of you, playing quite loudly to the noise of the radio. The boys were out back, fixing loose shingles on the roof.

“You can take one if you want,” You joke, arching your back trying to relieve some of the pain. Bucky stepped inside behind Steve, grabbing a drink from the fridge he lays a sweaty kiss on your cheek before going over to the chorus of Papa from their sitting room. Dia was the one who wanted his attention the most, her little feet climbing up on the gate and reaching her arms out to him while Grant and Jaime quickly lost interest as the noise from the radio changed. Bucky picked her up and brought her over to where you were sitting, handing her a piece of cheese to nibble on.

“You trying to sell our kids?” He asked.

“I’m trying to give them away for free.” Another kiss to your head and a hand on your belly.

“Baby.” Dia said. Pointing to your stomach.

“That’s right mija,” You smiled, “You want to feel the baby?” She nods, chewing on a finger. Bucky sits her on your lap, your sweet girl’s hair was finally growing, the soft brown curls done back with a bow, she put her hands on your tummy.

“Big belly.” She whispers, tapping on your stomach.

“There’s two babies in there mija.” She scrunches her nose, tapping on your belly again before reaching beside you for some more cheese. Bucky takes down the gate for the playpen, the other kids coming around to snack on cheese. Jaime whining to come up into your lap as well, Grant behind him. Peggy picks up Grant, settling him in her lap. Bucky taking Dia for you to let Jaime snuggle up into your lap. His body curled around your tummy, thumb in his mouth.

“Who would have ever thought.” Steve mused, “I thought you were crazy for chasing her the way you did.” Bucky chasing you, ten years ago now. So young and naive.

“I thank God every day that I did.” He grins at you and you could almost see the way he looked when he was seventeen, when he ran into you on the street and dragged you into a shop you knew you wouldn’t be allowed in.

You smile back, “Me too.” When Bucky leans in for a kiss Jaime groans and pushes him away, pulling you to him and making you give him a kiss on his forehead instead.

“Mama.” He whines, “I’m hungry.” You give Bucky a look.

“Alright mijo, let's get you something to eat.”

Something was wrong next door. The only reason you knew that was because the house was quiet today. Bucky had taken the kids to his parent’s house so you could nap, so you heard the shouting clear as day. You slipped out of bed, and walked to the bedroom window, the window facing the side of Martha Green’s house. The shouting was loud, almost frightening. Your hand fumbled with the bedside phone, dialing quickly.

“James,” You rest a hand on your belly, still looking out at the house, but their blinds were shut, “Something is happening next door, I think he’s hurting her.” There was a blood curdling scream you were sure he could hear,

“Call Steve,” He said, “I’m on my way.”

Steve didn’t answer, you placed the phone in the cradle and heard another scream. Waddling down the stairs, you knew it would take Bucky thirty minutes to get home. Another call to Steve, another unanswered call.

You could hear glass break. And you called the police. But how far out were they? You could hear her screaming and crying. There was a gun by the front door that felt heavy in your hands, shaking and nerves you walked outside, to her house and up the stairs. You knocked on the front door, hard.

There was a pause in noise, the gun heavy in your hand, hidden in the pocket of your house dress. The front door ripped open. You’d seen Martha’s husband a number of times and you believed Bucky when he said he didn’t think that he treated her very well. There was a wild look in his eyes and behind the small crack he opened you could see the shattered remains of what must have been their china cabinet.

You swallow nervously, but quickly ask, “Is Martha here? I uh… I came to return this.” In a quick moment of clarity you’d grabbed the glass dish you’d left by the front door that you’d asked Bucky to take back to Winnie, you thanked God he was forgetful in that moment. His jaw was tight and he looked down at the casserole dish in your hand.

His grip was rough on the dish, yanking it from your hand, “I’ll be sure to give it to her.” You see movement in the background, Martha. The two children hiccuping in tears as she ushered them in the closet under the stairs. You could see the bruises blooming on her face. “Is there anything else you need?”

“I would just like to talk to her.” You found some firmness.

“I’m sure she would not like to talk to you.” And you knew why. A spit at your feet. Your jaw clenched, your ears listened for sirens but you couldn’t hear any. It felt like it had been twenty minutes but you knew it had only been maybe five.

“Martha!” You called behind him. His hand quickly shot out, grabbing your arm and yanking you into the house.

“You nosy fucking bitch.” Your back met the hallway wall, fingers fumbling for your gun. You quickly pulled it and aimed it at his chest. He looked startled and backed away.

“Martha.” You could see her out of the corner of your eyes, “Grab the kids and go to my house.” She was frozen in the doorway, the anger from her husband clear on his face. “Go!”

You were shaking, which was a mistake, he rushed you. You fired the gun but it missed, the bullet embedding itself in the wall above his shoulder. He quickly grabbed your arm and brought a fist down on your face. You fired the gun again, clipping him on his arm. Screaming as you fell, hands coming to protect your belly as you fell. The gun spun out from your grip.

Martha’s husband, the big hulking man he is, stepped over you and grabbed the gun, pointing it in your face. You gasp, coming back onto your knees, eyes springing with tears.

“You stupid fucking bitch.” He spits, pulling the hammer back. You’ve made a mistake. Your heart in your throat you grab your belly.

“You’re a fucking coward.” It springs from your throat before you can help it. His upper lip curling, his finger tenses on the trigger. But before he could pull it you see a flash of metal, Bucky’s hand going to grab his wrist with the gun and in one instant, disarms him and the gun, flinging the piece of metal to the side he wraps his arm around Martha’s husband’s neck, bringing him to the ground.

When he arrived home he found a bruised and beaten Martha sitting in his den, her two sobbing kids beside her. When she told him where you were, his heart dropped. He felt like he was going to be sick. He snuck through the back door and came into the hallway through their den. Stopping the man about to take his wife away from him.

“What were you thinking?” He would yell later. Crying. Both of you. “I told you to call Steve.”

“I did.” You were blubbery, “He didn’t answer.” Bucky sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face before turning back to you and sighing heavily.

“Come here baby,” A tight hug to his chest, “I’m sorry. You were so brave, I’m sorry.” Hands rubbing up and down your back as you cried. “Please, never do that again.” You’d talked to the police, Bucky backing your story and telling them what he’d done. “You scared the shit out of me.”

The next day Martha showed up on your doorstep, an apology pie in hand. “I just wanted to say thank you,” She was looking at her shoes. You stepped aside, inviting her in. Settled down at your kitchen table with a cup of coffee she continues, “I honestly thought he was going to kill me yesterday.” A rough swallow, “He almost killed you.” Her blue eyes meeting yours for the first time. “I’m sorry I was so jealous of seeing how your husband treated you.” Her lips swollen with bitten worry, “And I used race as an excuse to treat you poorly and for that I apologize.” Her hands shaking, you reach over to comfort her.

“I forgive you,” a mutual cry between new friends. “Listen,” You scribble down your number on the pad by the phone. “If you need help you can always call, James’ work…”

“I know what he does.” She thumbs the paper. “He’s a good man.” You smile softly,

“Yeah, he is.” You muse at the thought,

Ten long years have led to this. Five children and an ever passionate love between the two of you that, at first, you thought was a simple infatuation that would pass with time. But he loved you, he married you. He helped you create five beautiful children and you couldn’t help but love him endlessly for that.

He’s shown you how intensely he loves. Every single day. And doesn’t relent, even when things had gotten a little hard. You admire him for that, and know that he was true in every sense of the word.

His love was all consuming and with every kiss he lay on your lips the relationship between you grew more solid.

He truly was the love of your life.

And you were his.

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #1940s!bucky barnes #1940s au #latinx!reader #latina!reader #sebastian stan #captain america #the falcon and the winter soldier

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atlanticsportsmed12 · 6 months ago

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Expert Orthopedic Doctor In Brooklyn: Atlantic Orthopedics & Sports Medicine

When it comes to your musculoskeletal health, finding the right orthopedic doctor in Brooklyn is crucial. At Atlantic Orthopedics & Sports Medicine, we understand the importance of expert care for your bones, joints, and muscles. Our team of skilled orthopedic specialists is dedicated to providing top-notch treatment for a wide range of conditions, from sports injuries to degenerative diseases.

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Conclusion

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