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keeryhours · 1 day ago

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teen pregnancy series - steve harrington part 2

Steve Harrington x female! reader

Main Masterlist

Teen Pregnancy Series Masterlist

Steve Harrington Masterlist

Summary:

Part 1

You find yourself pregnant with your best friend Nancy’s boyfriend’s baby after a drunken mistake.

Warnings:

Smut (18+), unprotected p in v, pregnancy, traumatic birth, pregnancy complications, angst

Word Count: 16.4k

A/N:

Please read part 1 first if you haven’t yet! I worked so hard on this one so I’m excited to have the finished thing posted for you guys! Thanks again to the besties @punkrockmlchael @the-witty-pen-name @lesservillain @glassbxttless @fizzing-imagines 💕

Friday came much too soon. You dressed nice for school, not bothering to hide the belly. You wore a little dress that showed off your figure, and a pair of boots. Steve smiled when he saw you, his eyes roaming your body.

“You look beautiful,” he said as you climbed into his car. “They’re probably going to like you more than they like me.”

School had become hell. It helped that Steve had your back. Steve was getting much less shit than you were. In fact, most of the guys at school thought he was something of a legend. But when you were alone, your classmates were vicious.

Someone you never expected to find comfort in was Carol Perkins.

“Talk to her like that again and I’ll kick your ass.”

It was seemingly out of nowhere. One second some kids were making rude comments, then the next thing you knew Carol slid up beside you, linking her arm in yours and telling them off. You were confused as she stepped off with her head held high, taking you with her.

“Um…”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I’m not gonna let anyone give you shit.”

It wasn’t long before you were spending most every minute of your day with either Carol or Steve. Even Steve was a little skeptical of Carol’s intentions, but she seemed sincere.

And she wasn’t as bad as you, Nancy, and Barb had thought. She was sweet - something you never thought you’d say - and she was funny. And she really did have your back. She even stared down Nancy giving you dirty looks in chem.

After school Friday, you followed Steve out to his car just like every day. Only neither of you were taking this lightly. You’d finally be meeting the Harringtons, and Steve had appropriately scared you for the dinner.

“Just letting you know, they’re awful,” he said, talking with his hands as he drove. “Like, really awful. My dad is an ass. My mom just lets him. It’s a whole thing.”

He was doing nothing to help your ‘meeting the parents’ nerves. “Are they really that bad?”

“They’re pretty bad.” He sighed. “I think they’re trying to make an effort, though. They want you and the baby to be around. They’re actually a little excited for their first grandchild.”

You smiled a little at that, hand resting on your belly. It was evident through your clothes and you didn’t attempt to hide it now. “I hope they like me.”

“They probably will,” he said. “Like I said, probably more than they like me.”

You were surprised at just how nice the Harrington’s house was. Steve pulled into the driveway of a gorgeous two story home with a large pool in the back. He gave you a nervous smile and squeezed your hand like well, here we go.

You walked hand in hand to the front door, Steve letting himself in. The smell of dinner hit you immediately, making your mouth water - was that steak? - and your stomach rumbled.

“Hungry?” Steve laughed.

“Starving,” you admitted.

“Well, good. I’m sure my mom cooked a feast.”

As you walked into the kitchen, a well dressed woman stood over the stove, her hair pulled back tightly. A man in a suit was leaning against the island bar, talking to her. They both looked over as you and Steve walked in, and the woman gave you a polite smile.

“Steve,” she said. “So this must be…”

Steve said your name for you, introducing you to both his parents. “This is my mom and dad.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” his mother said, reaching for your hand. “I’m Melissa.”

You took her hand and smiled politely as you shook it. You waited for his father to introduce himself, but he said nothing. Finally, his mother spoke up again. “And this is Richard, Steve’s father.”

You could feel their gazes drop to your stomach immediately as you dropped your arm. You suddenly wanted to cover up, wishing you had worn the sweatshirt again, but it was too late for that now.

Steve surprised you by reaching over and placing a hand on your stomach, too. He looked at you like you were the only person in the room. “Are you okay?” he asked, quiet enough for only you to hear.

You nodded, giving him a grateful smile. “I’m okay.”

Steve’s hand lingered protectively on your belly for a moment longer before he moved, turning back to face his parents. “So…what’s for dinner?”

Dinner turned out to be steaks, with mashed potatoes and green beans on the side. Your stomach growled with hunger as you eyed the food being placed on the table - eating for two was correct, because you had been infinitely hungrier the past few months.

You all took a seat at the table, Steve’s dad sitting at the head of the table with his wife next to him, Steve on the other side with you at the end of the table. You were so relieved it was time to eat, it distracted you from your nerves as you dug into your plate.

“So,” Steve’s mother began, looking at you. “Steve tells us you’re very smart.”

You blushed, looking over at Steve, who smiled sheepishly at you. “I…I’m in some advanced classes, yes.”

“College plans?” she asked, almost as if she had forgotten about the pregnancy entirely.

Your heart sunk in your chest. “I was planning to go to Emerson. But now…”

An awkward silence settled over the room. The only sounds to be heard were the dishes clinking together as you all ate. It was Steve’s dad who spoke next. “What do the two of you plan to do about all this?” he asked, getting straight to the point as he gestured between you and Steve.

You froze again, but Steve spoke up. “What do you mean, dad?”

“I mean,” he said, looking sternly at both of you. “I don’t think either of you understand the gravity of the situation you’re in.” He looked at you. “You’re an only child, yes?”

“Yes,” you confirmed.

“And so are you,” he said to Steve. “So, what do either of you know about babies? And how hard it will be to take care of one?”

No one said anything. You weren’t sure if there was anything to be said to that.

“Not only that,” he continued, “but how will you support yourselves and a baby?”

He was asking questions you truly didn’t know the answer to. “I was thinking I could-“ Steve began, but his father cut him off.

“Thinking you could work for me?”

“Well, yeah,” he said. “We had talked about it-“

“Son, you’re welcome to come work with me. But you’re on your own. This child is your responsibility, I expect you to take care of both the baby and her.”

Steve looked at you. He reached over the table and took your hand. “I can do that.”

His father nodded. “Good.” Another beat of silence. “Do you both plan to finish school?”

“Yes,” you said quickly. “The baby won’t be born until after graduation, so…”

“Yeah, we’re both going to finish the year,” Steve said. He looked at you. “She still wants to go to college, maybe…after the baby is born,”

You nodded. “Yeah…if I can.”

“That’s good,” Steve’s mother said, giving you a smile. “I’m glad you have big dreams and ambitions.”

You weren’t sure if she was proud of you, or thought you were naive. “Community college, at least.”

“How far along are you?” she asked.

“15 weeks.”

Steve’s parents’ eyes widened. “Almost halfway there,” his mom said, her voice nervous. “We didn’t realize it was that far along.”

Steve’s hand rested on your knee beneath the table.

“She’s been taking good care of herself,” he said. “Going to all her appointments, taking her vitamins.”

“Well that’s the bare minimum, isn’t it, son?” his dad said.

Steve clenched his jaw. He looked like he wanted to argue, but didn’t. “She’s doing a good job.”

“Look, son,” he said. “There’s a lot more to having a baby than just having it. You have to worry about diapers, formula if she doesn’t or can’t breastfeed, clothes and supplies-“

“Dad, I know.”

“I don’t know that you do.” His father’s stern voice commanded the entire room. You felt extremely uncomfortable. “I can’t believe you, son. You’re a Harrington. And look at the mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“Richard-“ his mother said, but he kept talking as if she hadn’t said anything.

“You’re barely 18 years old. Still in high school. And now you’ve got some girl pregnant?” You felt so small at that - some girl - you shrunk into yourself, wishing you could disappear.

“Dad.”

“No, Steve, I don’t want to hear it. You’ve disgraced this family. You’ve embarrassed not only me, but your poor mother as well. Do you know how you’re being talked about down at the clubhouse? It’s humiliating for both me and your mother.”

Steve gripped his fork tightly. He thought about stabbing it into his father’s hand. “Those people do nothing but gossip anyway-“

“Steven!” he snapped. Steve jumped at the sound of his government name, feeling like a child again as he shrunk under the harsh gaze of his father. “You are not to talk to me that way. Do you want a job with me to take care of your little family or not?”

Silence. “I do.”

“Then act like it.”

“Yes, sir.”

It was almost disturbing to see Steve give up like that. You felt terrible for him - your dad hadn’t taken the pregnancy news well, but neither of your parents were strict. Not like this. The silence left behind after that exchange was deafening.

If you hadn’t been pregnant and starving, you would have lost your appetite. Instead you cleared your plate, and could have gone for seconds if someone offered. After dinner you helped Mrs. Harrington clean up, washing the dishes alongside her - which seemed to earn her approval. You could hear a heated conversation between Steve and his father muffled from the living room.

Once the dishes had been done and the dining room and kitchen were spotless, Steve’s parents told you goodbye. “Thank you for coming to dinner,” Mrs. Harrington said. “We enjoyed having you.” Mr. Harrington said nothing.

“Thank you for having me,” you said. You smiled at them, feeling their eyes once again on your stomach now that you were standing. It was something you were having to get used to in general. Everyone looked.

When Steve placed his hand on your back and led you out of the house and into the fresh air of the night, you took a deep breath that you’d needed for hours. “Well. Glad that’s over.”

Steve laughed, opening the passenger door for you. He took your hand to help you lower yourself into the seat. “Told you they were bad.”

He climbed into the driver’s seat and shut the door. “Yeah, your dad was an asshole,” you said. It made him laugh again.

As he started the engine and began driving back towards your house, a silence settled, although this was a much more comfortable one. Eventually he reached over and took your hand in his, which surprised you but you weren’t complaining. It was just friendly. Nothing romantic between you.

“I’m glad you came,” he said. “Even though they seemed like assholes-“

“Your mom was fine!”

“-believe me,” he continued, “you earned points in their book for even having the balls to show up and take their shit.”

You smiled. “You really think they didn’t hate me?”

“Oh, they loved you. That’s just how they show it.”

It wasn’t long before the BMW pulled up outside your home. The lights were on inside, casting a warm glow over the yard. “Want me to walk you in?” Steve asked.

“Sure.”

Steve followed you up the walkway and to the door, his hand resting on your back as if you might hurt yourself without his help. You entered the house to find both of your parents in the living room, watching TV.

“Steve!” your mother said. “How are you?”

“I’m doing well,” he said. “Just making sure she gets home safely.”

“Well, we appreciate that.” Your mom smiled. Steve gave you a tight hug, one that you were surprised by. He hadn’t been this affectionate with you.

“I’ll see you later,” he said. You watched as he turned and left, feeling like he was taking a piece of you with him, too. You wanted to reach for him, to grasp his hand and bring him back, bring him upstairs and to your room. It wasn’t even sex you were after (although being pregnant had made you super horny), but even just to be held. Steve made you feel safe, cared for.

But you couldn’t do that. It would be weird, for one. It was weird enough that you wanted him in that way. You went upstairs and took your shower before settling into bed - drifting off to thoughts of Steve.

—

Things were getting easier. Well, for the most part. You were 18 weeks pregnant now, bump perfectly round and visible in all your clothes, even the sweatshirt now. Steve never left your side, taking your safety as the most important thing.

You and Carol had grown tight, too. The most unlikely friendship turned out to be the best. Carol was amazing. She was like having Scary Dog Privileges. No one dared fuck with her, or you, now.

“Wheeler is a stuck up bitch,” Carol said as you passed Nancy giving you the dirtiest look once again. “Don’t mind her.”

“I just…feel bad,” you muttered, holding your books tight to your chest. “I did kind of fuck her over.”

Carol shrugged. “Shit happens. They weren’t gonna last anyway.”

“You don’t think?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

“Oh, definitely not.” She scoffed. “Harrington thought she was the best thing to ever happen to him, but they would have been over by graduation.”

“Why?”

“Well, they just weren’t right for each other, for one.” She pushed a red curl behind her ear. “Harrington never could have been happy with her long term. She’s too…goody goody.”

It was true. You’d never seen Nancy break a rule in her life.

“You, however,” she said, giving you a playful smirk, “would be perfect for him.”

You blushed deeply. “That’s not true. He doesn’t even like me in that way.”

“Sure,” she said, looking at you with a smile that said she knew something you didn’t.

After school on the way home with Steve, he seemed like he had something on his mind. It wasn’t like Steve to not be chatting you up on the way home, telling you every detail of his day and asking you a million questions about how you and the baby felt. He tapped his fingers nervously on the steering wheel, eyes locked on the road.

“…What’s up?” you finally asked, having had enough of the silence.

Steve looked over at you like you’d surprised him. “What do you mean?”

“You look like you have something on your mind,” you said. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Yeah, yeah I know.” He tapped his fingers along with the song on the radio. “I was just thinking…”

“About what?”

Steve sighed. “I was just…so, we’re having a baby together, right?”

“Yeah…?”

“And most people who have a baby together are…you know, together.”

You just looked at him. “What are you saying?”

He sighed again, hands tightening on the steering wheel. “I’m saying…maybe we should try being together? Like, a couple?” He glanced over at you. “For the baby, of course,” he added quickly.

“Steve…”

“No, it’s okay. It was a stupid idea.”

You felt conflicted. On one hand, you wanted to be with Steve, something you hadn’t even realized about yourself. You wanted to try this. But you knew Steve was only asking for the baby’s sake, not because he liked you in any kind of way. And not to even mention how Nancy would feel about it. You cared a lot about how Nancy felt. It was almost like you thought there was any chance of salvaging your friendship.

“It’s not stupid,” you said quietly. “It’s just…Nancy…”

“No, no, yeah. You’re totally right.” He gestured with his hand, drawing a clear line. “We’re just co-parents. That’s all.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. The car fell into an awkward silence. You felt bad. You wanted to take it back, to tell Steve you wanted to be with him. You wanted to kiss him on the mouth and be touched like he’d touched you that one night. You wanted to do those things with him again. You wanted him to love you.

The BMW pulled up outside your house, but you didn’t get out right away. You debated saying something about it, changing your mind and telling Steve you liked him, but he spoke first.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I even brought that up,” he said. “It’s not like…I mean, we aren’t interested in each other in that way anyway, right? It was a dumb idea. Just forget about it.”

His words struck you in the chest, making your heart ache. You had started to suspect that maybe Steve did like you, but his words put an end to those silly thoughts. How could he? You were nothing like Nancy, not really, despite being her best friend for many years. Nancy was better than you in every way.

“Yeah,” you said. “It’s fine, I know you didn’t mean it or anything.”

Something crossed Steve’s face, but he didn’t say anything else. “Call me if you need anything, yeah?” he said instead, the same thing he said most times he dropped you off.

“Okay. I will.” You climbed out of the car, holding your emotions inside as you reached your front door and unlocked it with your key. You turned to see Steve still waiting there, watching to make sure you got inside safely. It only made it hurt worse, the way you wished you could run into his arms and kiss him like you’d dreamed of since that night. But you couldn’t. He wasn’t yours.

He wasn’t yours.

—

You had been counting down to the 20 week appointment since you first accepted the pregnancy and allowed yourself to feel excited. It was the big one - the anatomy scan, where they’d see if everything was progressing the way it should, and if you were having a boy or a girl.

Steve was buzzing with excitement when he picked you up that morning. He handed you a hot chocolate from your favorite place as you got into the car.

“What’s the occasion?” you teased with a smile.

“You know what’s the occasion,” he laughed. “Are you as excited as I am?”

“I don’t know, that’s tough to beat.”

Steve had been talking about it even more than you had. He had a calendar where he was crossing off every day until your due date, and to this appointment. He was probably the most involved dad you’d ever seen, and the baby wasn’t even here yet.

“My mom’s meeting us at the doctor’s office after school,” you said. “She wanted to be there.”

“My mom asked if she could come.”

Your eyes widened. “She did?”

“Yeah.” He started driving to school. “I told her I didn’t think it was a good idea.”

“Why?”

“Would you have wanted her there?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“I mean…” you thought. “I wouldn’t have minded, I don’t think.”

“Really?”

“Well, she is the baby’s grandmother…”

Those words fell heavily onto Steve’s shoulders. “Yeah.”

“But maybe we can tell them in a fun way. Get a little cake or something.”

Steve smiled at you before he turned back to the road. “That’s cute. Yeah, we could do that. I’m sure she’d like it.”

“After the appointment,” you said, “we’ll stop at the bakery.”

The school day really dragged by. You were so excited to get out of there and go to your appointment, every class felt like it was 5 hours long. Steve felt the same way, complaining through the whole day and all of lunch.

“I just wanna knooow,” he whined, leaning back in his seat in the cafeteria. “Like, we’ve been waiting so long.”

“Oh my god, Harrington, we get it,” Tommy said, rolling his eyes. “We get that you’re excited about your kid.”

“Oh, stop,” Carol said, shoving Tommy’s arm. “Let them be excited. It’s exciting.” She gave you a reassuring smile and squeezed your hand. “You guys talk about it as much as you want to.”

Tommy scoffed. “Really? You’re outnumbering me?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Sorry, Hagan, majority rules,” Steve teased. “I get to talk about my kid all day. You’re just jealous, anyway.”

“Jealous?” Tommy said, incredulous, his mouth dropping open. “I am not jealous you’re having a kid in high school.”

“Sure, sure.”

After lunch, you and Carol walked to your lockers together like you did every day. Only she passed hers, following you all the way to yours and leaning against the closed one next to you.

“Can I go with you?” she asked.

You furrowed your brow, slowing as you took books out of your locker. “Go with me where?”

“To your doctor’s appointment, silly?” she popped her bubblegum, looking at you like the question was obvious. “Can I come?”

“You- why?”

“Because it’s exciting!” she squealed, grabbing your arms. You caught the attention of Nancy and Barb from across the hallway, who both gave you dirty looks. Carol didn’t even notice them. “I wanna find out if I’m gonna be auntie to a little boy or a girl. I think it’s a girl.”

You hadn’t even realized Carol cared so much about your pregnancy. “I…I mean, yeah, you can come.”

“Yes!” she cheered. “I can’t wait to be able to go shopping. I’m gonna spoil them so much, you have no idea.”

After school, Steve surprised you by your locker, making you jump and place a hand over your belly. “Jesus, Steve.”

“Sorry,” he said. “But are you excited? Are you ready to go?”

You closed the locker with all your stuff in it, turning the dial to lock it. “Yes. I’m ready. Carol’s coming, too.”

He looked like he might have a question about that, but he shrugged his shoulders instead. “Okay. The more the merrier.”

Nancy and Barb watched as Steve placed a hand on your round belly, 20 weeks now and no longer fitting into any of your old clothes. Your mom had taken you out shopping for some maternity clothes, which you rejected at first because they all looked like old lady clothes. Ultimately you ended up in a pair of maternity jeans with a stretchy band in the front, and a wardrobe of Steve’s t-shirts he so graciously let you borrow, just oversized enough to fit over the belly.

He didn’t care who was watching as he took the minute to rub his large hand over your stomach, smiling at you with such affection it made your heart beat fast. “I’m really excited,” he said, just loud enough for you to hear. “This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Your heart swelled. You wanted to say something -

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Your own thoughts shocked you. Where did that come from?

“I’m excited too,” you said instead. Your hand rested on top of his. You could practically feel Nancy and Barb burning a hole into the back of your head. Steve didn’t even notice them. He just smiled back at you.

“Let’s go,” he said. He put his hand on your lower back and guided you out of the building, not caring if anyone was looking (they were). Carol was waiting by the car, her face breaking out into a huge grin when you and Steve approached. Tommy stood beside her, looking much less excited.

“This is so exciting!” Carol squealed, grabbing your hands. “It’s a girl, I know it.”

“I think it’s a boy,” Tommy muttered, and you smiled - seems like he was more invested than he let on.

“You just want to be his favorite,” Carol said, elbowing him in the ribs.

“We’re gonna follow you,” Tommy said, swinging his keys around his finger. “So whenever you guys are ready.”

Steve helped you get into the passenger seat - you needed a little help these days. He got into the driver’s seat and turned some music on, pulling out of the school parking lot. Tommy’s car followed.

At the office, your mom’s car was waiting right out front. She smiled when she saw you, but you could tell she was feeling emotional. She pulled you into a hug when you got out of the car, holding you close.

“Still can’t believe my baby is having a baby,” she said, sniffling. You hugged her back tightly. Becoming a mother yourself opened your eyes to a lot of things about your own mother.

Your entourage took up a lot of room in the tiny waiting room. Steve sat on one side of you, your mom on the other, and Tommy and Carol across from you. When the nurse called you back, they all followed. The nurse seemed a little surprised, but didn’t say anything.

She did your vitals first, taking your temperature and blood pressure. She looked a little concerned as she took the blood pressure cuff off. “Have you had high blood pressure before?”

You looked up at her, confused. “No.”

“Hm.” She wrote something down in your chart. Steve looked instantly terrified, looking between you to the nurse to your mother, who looked equally as nervous.

“Is that bad?” Steve asked.

“The doctor will discuss it with you,” the nurse said politely, which did not satisfy Steve whatsoever, but he didn’t press the subject.

Steve stayed right by your side as you waddled into the exam room, your mom and friends following behind you. Steve helped you up onto the exam table. You cradled your belly in your arms, feeling the immense love for the tiny little baby already.

It wasn’t long before the ultrasound technician came in, wheeling an ultrasound machine. An external one this time, thank god. “Good afternoon!” she said, giving a huge smile to everyone in the room. “I see we have a party going on in here.”

She instructed you to pull your shirt up as she prepared the machine. She squirted the cold gel onto your belly, pressing the wand hard into your skin and moving it around as she tried to find a good view of the baby. Steve sat right next to you, holding your hand tightly. His eyes were glued to the screen. Everyone’s were.

The small baby popped up on the screen, looking more like a baby than you’d ever seen it. It was real, it felt real - that was a baby. Your baby. Yours and Steve’s. A little Harrington.

Steve’s free hand shot up and covered his mouth as he took in the sight of his child on the screen. Tears welled in his eyes, and he was shaking. He squeezed your hand, and you squeezed his back. Your mom had also started crying, Carol watching with her hand over her chest, even Tommy was moved.

The tech took measurements of every body part, logging them in your chart. Everyone just watched the process, watching the baby moving around on the screen until the moment you’d all been waiting for finally came.

“Do you want to know the gender?” she asked, smiling at each person in the room.

“Yes!” you and Steve both said together. You looked at each other, Steve smiling and a giggle escaping your lips.

“Alright then,” the tech smiled. She moved the wand, then wrote something in the chart again. “You’re having a baby girl.”

The whole room erupted into excitement. But when Steve looked at you, it was like you were the only two people in the room.

“A daughter,” he said, like he was in awe. “We’re having a daughter.”

“Yeah, we are,” you said as the tears finally fell down your cheeks. Steve reached up and wiped them away with his thumb.

“I can’t believe it,” he whispered. “This is the best day of my life. So far.”

That made your heart soar. You squeezed his hand again, and he held yours with both of his, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing it. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for this. This is the best gift I ever could have hoped for.”

“Steve…” you said, tears falling even faster now.

“Don’t cry, please.” He wiped your tears away again. “Just…thank you.”

After the ultrasound, the tech left and you were left waiting for the doctor. The room was buzzing with excitement over the news, everyone talking all at once.

“I can’t believe I’m having a granddaughter,” your mom said, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. “Reminds me of when I was pregnant with you.”

You imagined what it might be like one day to be supporting your daughter - the one growing in your belly now, this tiny little creature. It was hard to imagine her as a real human being who would grow into her own person one day. You hoped she wouldn’t be having a baby in high school, at least.

“Yeah, well,” Steve said, “if any guy comes within 100 feet of her I’m beating him with a stick.”

“Ohmygod,” Carol said. “We have to go shopping. There’s so much cute stuff for baby girls. Do you have anything yet?”

“Not really,” you admitted. You had been mostly waiting for this appointment - it’s like it hadn’t felt real before. Now, it was real.

“That’s okay,” she said. “We’ll go get all kinds of stuff.”

Steve rubbed your belly as everyone kept talking, like he was in his own little world. Just him and his baby girl, moving beneath his palm. The movements were soothing, relaxing you.

Finally the doctor walked in, greeting everyone with a smile. She scanned through your chart before speaking. “I see you had some high blood pressure today.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I’ve never had that before.”

“We’re going to keep an eye on that,” she said. “I want to see you here again next week, okay?”

“Next week?” you asked, confused. Your appointments had been monthly until now.

“Yes,” she said. “High blood pressure can be a sign of a lot of things, some small and some big. I just want to keep an eye on it.”

“Is everything okay?” Steve asked, interrupting the conversation. “Is she okay? Is the baby?”

“There’s no reason to worry right now,” she said, trying to calm Steve. “If there’s something more serious going on, we’ll catch it.”

Steve begrudgingly accepted that answer. He wasn’t trying to be a total asshole, he was just scared. But the appointment concluded after that, and then all of you were walking out of the building together.

“I’ll see you at home, honey,” your mom said, giving you a tight hug. “Drive home safe,” she added, pointing to Steve.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, saluting.

“I’ll call you,” Carol said, pulling you into a hug. “Love you.”

When only you and Steve were left, he helped you into the car again. He started driving towards town. “How are you feeling? About all of this?”

“I’m happy,” you said, hand rubbing the bump. “Really happy,”

Steve shot you a smile before turning back to the road. “Me too.”

He pulled into the parking lot of the bakery. Inside you ordered two cupcakes with pink filling, ready for Steve’s parents to discover the news. It was hard not to take a bite as you left the bakery.

“I can pick you up tomorrow to come have dinner with us and…you know, tell them,” he said.

“Okay,” you agreed. You held the cupcakes safely on your lap as he drove you back home.

Your house wasn’t far. Your mom had had to go back to work and your didn’t hadn’t gotten off yet, so it was empty. Steve came in with you, following you as you deposited the cupcakes in the kitchen and then up to your bedroom, carrying your bag for you. He dropped it by the end of your bed where you always sat it. It was weird how he’d started to know you so well.

He approached you, placing both hands on your belly. It was so natural for him now, it was his favorite thing to do. He got down to his knees in front of you so he was face level with your belly.

“Hi, baby girl,” he said. Your heart thudded hard in your chest - he had never done something like this before. “I’m your daddy.” He rubbed a hand across your stomach, caressing it lovingly. “I love you very much already. Did you know that? I can’t wait to meet you.”

Tears sprung to your eyes. You quickly wiped them away, watching the moment between Steve and - your daughter.

“You be good for your momma, okay?” he continued. “She’s working hard growing you and finishing school at the same time. She’s the coolest. You’re going to love her.”

You could feel her wiggling around, kicking at Steve’s hand. His eyes went wide- “Did she just kick me??”

You laughed, amazed. “Yeah, I think she did.”

Steve was smiling so big, his own eyes welling with tears. He kissed your belly, rubbing where he had felt the kick. “I love you. I love you so much.”

When Steve stood again, he looked happy. So happy. It made your heart swell, too.

“I guess I gotta get going,” he said, looking like he absolutely did not want to go. “Still under curfew, and all.”

“Okay,” you begrudgingly agreed. You found yourself wanting to spend more time with Steve - and you already spent just about all your time together. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Steve’s face brightened at that reminder. “Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

He surprised you when he pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly while still being careful of the bump. It felt like a loss when he pulled away, and then he was leaving, taking a piece of you with him.

—

The next day, Steve picked you up for dinner just as planned. You had the cupcakes ready to go. You were nervous, your hands shook as you buckled your seatbelt. Steve could sense your anxiety immediately, reaching over and taking your hand.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay. They’re gonna be happy. The hard part is over.”

You tried to keep that in mind during the ride there. You were extra careful with the cupcakes, not allowing even a smidge of icing to be messed up. At the Harrington’s Steve came around and took them from you before helping you get up.

Inside the house smelled delicious once again. Roasted chicken this time, with potatoes and greens. Mrs. Harrington smiled as the two of you walked into the kitchen.

She greeted you by name, walking around the island bar to hold your hand in both of hers. “How are you feeling, darling? How’s the little one?”

“Good, and good,” you answered both her questions. She surprised you by placing a hand on your belly - you had yet to have anyone but Steve do that. It felt strange.

“What are these?” she asked, gesturing to the two boxes in Steve’s hand.

“We brought cupcakes…to announce the gender,” you explained.

“How cute!” She took them from Steve carefully, sitting them on the counter. “Richard should be down any minute now.”

Mr. Harrington came down the stairs as you were helping Mrs. Harrington set the table. He looked stern and unfriendly as ever, still dressed nicely in a button down and slacks. He greeted you shortly.

“Should we go ahead and do the reveal before dinner?” Mrs. Harrington asked. “I don’t think I can wait.”

“Sure, we can,” you said. Steve handed one of the boxes to his father and the other to his mom. The opened them, revealing the cutely decorated cupcakes with white icing and a baby rattle on top.

“Ready?” Steve asked.

They took the small decoration off and peeled the paper from around the sweet bread. They exchanged a look before they bit into their cupcakes at the same time.

Mrs. Harrington lit up when she saw the pink filling, squealing and throwing her arms around Steve first, then you. “A granddaughter!!”

Mr. Harrington had…no reaction. In fact, he almost seemed displeased. “You knock a girl up and you couldn’t even have a son to carry on the Harrington name?”

Silence. “Dad-“

Mr. Harrington held a hand up, silencing Steve. But nothing more was said as everyone sat down to dinner in the awkward silence.

It was uncomfortable. Mr. Harrington was a total asshole, and his wife just let him without saying a word, leading to awkward moments like these. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know if there was anything to say.

When you and Steve left, he was apologetic. “I’m so sorry. He’s such an ass. I’m really sorry he ruined the whole thing.”

You shook your head as you climbed into the car. “It’s not your fault, Steve.”

“I know. It just…feels like it reflects back on me.”

“What do you mean?” you asked him as he began the drive home.

“Just that…it feels like people think I’m an asshole just like him. Or that I will be one day. And it’s embarrassing.”

You took his hand. “Steve, you’re nothing like your dad.”

He let out a long breath. “God. Thank you. For saying that.”

“Seriously,” you continued. “Nothing like him. You’re kind, and sweet, and caring, loyal, funny, reliable-“

“You think all those things about me?” Steve asked, goofy grin on his handsome face.

You blushed deeply. “I…”

“I think you’re great, too.” His eyes were on the road now. “The best, even. I wouldn’t want to be doing this with anyone else.”

“Not even Nancy?”

The question hung in the air for a moment. “No. Not even Nancy.”

You wanted to say it then - I love you. But it didn’t come. You tried to work up the courage, but before you had the chance to, the car was coming to a stop outside your house.

Neither of you said anything at first, neither daring to move. Steve opened his mouth to say something, but just closed it again instead. He turned to you and gave you a smile that seemed rather forced.

“I’ll see you Monday,” he said. “Take care of yourself and our little nugget.”

“I will,” you agreed. You waited to see if he would say something else, but he didn’t. So you opened the door and climbed out (with some difficulty) and walked into your house.

Up in your room that night, you thought. You had much to think about, and your mind wouldn’t shut the fuck up. You were about to resort to counting sheep when your phone rang on your bedside table.

You snatched it off the receiver, hoping to hear one particular voice only. “Hello?”

“Uh, hey.” Just as if you had manifested it, Steve’s voice came from the other line.

“Hey,” you said, smiling like an idiot because he couldn’t see you. “What’s up?”

“I just…” he sighed. “I couldn’t sleep. And I wanted to talk to you.”

Butterflies took flight in your stomach and chest. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled lightly to himself. “I don’t have anything else. I didn’t exactly plan this far, I just picked up the phone.”

You couldn’t stop smiling. “What are you doing?”

“Just laying in bed…was trying to sleep, but…yeah.”

“I couldn’t sleep either,” you said. You didn’t admit that you had been longing to call him and hear his voice just as bad as he had for you.

“Are you uncomfortable?”

“A little.” You rubbed your belly beneath your loose sleep shirt.

“Is there anything I can do to help? Anything I can get?”

You thought for a minute, smile on your lips. “Maybe one of those giant pregnancy pillows.”

“You got it.”

The baby kicked hard, and you moved your hand to where she was, letting out a little “Ooh.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you said. “She’s just really active tonight.”

“Maybe she misses her dad.”

“Maybe she does.” There was a moment of silence over the line.

“Do you have any name ideas?” Steve asked out of the blue.

“Oh,” you said, question catching you off guard. “I haven’t really let myself think about it yet.”

“I like Elizabeth,” he offered. “Ellie.”

“That’s really cute.” You were surprised at how much you liked the name, since it was the first one either of you had brought up.

“Maybe Danielle.”

“I like that too, but I like Ellie better.”

“Me too.” You could hear the smile in Steve’s voice. “Elizabeth Harrington.”

Harrington. Your daughter will be a Harrington. You didn’t love the idea of having a different last name than her, but you didn’t want to revisit your dad’s insistence to get married.

“Elizabeth ‘Ellie’ Harrington. I like it.” You smiled too, but your heart was beating rapidly in your chest. It was hard to believe this little creature you’d been carrying around was a human being with a whole name and everything.

“What about her middle name?”

You thought. “Maybe Louise? After my grandmother?”

“Perfect. I love it.” Steve sounded infinitely happier than he had when you’d picked up the phone. He yawned, which made you yawn, too.

“I guess I’m gonna actually try to go to bed,” he said reluctantly. “Talking to you helped.”

“Glad I could be of service.” You twirled the phone cord around your finger. “I guess I should go to sleep, too.”

“Did talking to me make you feel better?

Yet another smile grew on your lips. “Yeah. It did.”

“Good. I’ll talk to you later. Goodnight.” The way your name sounded when it left his lips had you aching for him. In any way.

But instead you hung up the phone, wishing Steve was here with you instead of in his own house. You wished he was here to hold you, to cuddle you to sleep and keep you safe. You drifted asleep to thoughts of Steve in bed behind you.

—

“I can’t believe we’re graduating in 2 weeks,” Carol said, flipping through the racks of dresses. “It’s finally over.”

“Finally,” you agreed, because you were equally ready to be done with the halls of Hawkins High. Especially at 27 weeks, just about in the third trimester and absolutely huge. You waddled through the store behind Carol, your back aching horribly.

“Ooh, this one’s cute,” she said, pulling a white dress off the rack. You remembered a time when you could still fit in anything besides maternity clothes.

“That would look really good on you!” And you knew it was the truth. But everything looked good on Carol.

“We need to find you something,” she said. “You’ve got to look hot.”

“I don’t think that’s possible at this point,” you said, gesturing to the bump.

“It’s definitely possible. You are hot.” Carol looked at you like this was obvious information. “We’re gonna find you a dress you feel beautiful in. I promise.”

After Carol decided on a dress, you moved on to a maternity store. Once again, the majority of the selection was, for lack of a better description, old lady clothes. You felt dejected as you and Carol looked through the racks, Carol scrunching her nose up at most of the options.

Until finally, she gasped, pulling out a white dress with lace over the bodice. “Oh, this is the one.”

It was pretty. You took it from her hands and examined it. You couldn’t believe how pretty it was, in this store surrounded by the ugliest clothes you’d ever seen. But here it was. “I need to try it on first.”

You weren’t hopeful as you and Carol walked to the changing rooms, and you especially weren’t hopeful as you undressed and saw yourself in the mirror. Your body had changed so much. It was unrecognizable. You felt self conscious constantly, like you were this huge fucking planet walking around and drawing everyone’s attention, and not in a good way.

You forced yourself to turn away and slip the dress over your head. It fit surprisingly well, hugging your breasts and chest tightly before flowing down over the bump. It stopped about at your knees. It did look really nice on you, you had to admit. It accentuated the bump in a flattering way, more like look how cute I am! than I’m trying to hide this huge thing under my clothes.

You stepped out of the changing room, and Carol gasped, clapping her hands together in approval. “Oh, this is the one, baby. You’re getting this one.”

The confidence this dress gave you made you feel as if you were glowing, the way they always said pregnant women did. You were disappointed to change back into your own clothes, but when you took the dress to the counter and bought it, it made you feel better.

Maybe graduation wouldn’t be so bad after all.

—

The day of graduation, you were 29 weeks, everything was swollen and you were in pain. You were in a bad mood as your mom helped you get ready. You were already in your dress, doing your makeup in the mirror as your mom styled your hair for you.

“It’s going to be fine,” your mom said. “You’re gonna walk across that stage, get your diploma, and be done with it. And you have Steve and Carol with you.”

That was true. It was the only thing that made you feel better. You were humiliated at the thought of having to walk the stage with your huge belly, everyone knowing who you were and what you did. How you got here.

Steve came and picked you up since you didn’t want to be alone, your parents driving on their own in time for the ceremony. As graduates, you had to be there early. Steve held your hand the drive there, like he could sense how scared you were. Maybe it was obvious.

Carol pulled you into a tight hug when you and Steve entered the gymnasium, all set up with a stage and lots of seating. “You look beautiful. I knew you would.”

You blushed. “Thanks, Carol.”

“You do,” Steve agreed. With the way he was looking at you you could tell he was genuine. In fact, he was looking at you like you were the only person in the room full of a hundred Hawkins High graduates. It made your heart beat fast. His hand rested on your cheek, gently caressing the skin. You both totally forgot about Carol and Tommy standing right next to you, forgot that you were embarrassed to be here. All

there was was Steve, and god, you wanted to kiss him-

“Isn’t this sweet?”

Your stomach dropped.

“Nancy,” you said, turning and seeing her standing there, looking beautiful as she always did. Barb stood next to her, looking uncomfortable.

“What do you want, Wheeler?” Carol asked, her usual attitude back. The one you did not want to be on the other side of again.

“Just wanted to congratulate the new parents,” she said mockingly. “It’s almost time now, isn’t it?”

You didn’t know what to say. You knew she was being facetious, she didn’t actually care about the state of your pregnancy or the baby. But it was still so strange to have Nancy talking to you this way. Your long time best friend, the sweetest person you knew, turned into this.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “It is.”

“Are you two together yet?” she asked. “Or has Steve gone and knocked up another slut?”

“Oh, you bitch,” Carol said, pushing through to stand right in Nancy’s face. “Why don’t you go find Byers? You two have been getting pretty cozy even since before you and Steve broke up.”

Nancy’s jaw dropped. “You-“

“Nancy, I think you should go,” Steve said, stepping between the girls to put an end to this fight before it got out of hand. “You aren’t actually here to talk, so just go.”

She looked at Steve then with so much hurt in her eyes, you felt guilty all over again. “Sure, Steve. I hope you’re happy.”

Barbara put a hand on her back as they walked away, and you let out a deep breath. Steve pulled you into a hug, rubbing your back. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “I just feel like the biggest backstabber on the planet.”

Steve sighed. He laid his head on top of yours. “You’re not a bad person, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. You knew it was just friendly, but the sound of the nickname gave you goosebumps anyway. You wanted so badly to tilt your head up and look into his deep brown eyes, to-

“Alright, everyone, we’re getting started! Get to your assigned places!”

Steve reluctantly pulled away from you with his hands on your upper arms. He looked you over again, his face creased with concern. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” you assured him. “Now let’s go graduate.”

The ceremony was long and boring. You waited your turn until Principal Higgins reached your name on the alphabetical list, then you stood, smoothed your dress down over your belly, and walked to the stage with confidence.

You could hear your parents, Steve, Tommy, and Carol cheering for you louder than anyone. You blushed, but couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. Principal Higgins handed you your diploma with a smile and a “Well done,” and that was that. You exited the stage and went back to your seat, watching the remaining students graduate.

When you tossed your hat into the air at the end of the ceremony, you felt more emotions than you’d expected to. School was really over. You couldn’t even remember a time before you were in school - it had been your whole life, and now it was over. Now you had much bigger, scarier things headed your way.

Steve’s parents threw a huge graduation party for him, and were kind enough to make it a joint party for the two of you (at Steve’s insistence). There were a lot of guests, lots of Steve’s family you didn’t know and a lot of friends and acquaintances from school. You were glad Tommy and Carol were there.

You entertained yourself with the buffet table - still very much eating for two, after all. Steve stayed by your side, introducing you to his distant family members. They all looked at your belly before they met your eyes. You had grown used to that treatment.

“I’m really proud of you,” Steve said when the two of you caught a moment alone. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think it’s really impressive that you finished school with…everything going on.”

You shook your head. “It’s really not that impressive.”

“It is, and you should be proud of yourself.” Steve looked at you for a minute. He stepped closer to you, his hand coming to rest on the side of your face. He caressed your cheek, his eyes staring deeply into yours. Your heart stuttered in your chest - were you even still breathing? He parted his lips, moving closer and closer.

He pressed his lips to your forehead, leaving a lingering kiss there. Your heart sunk - you felt like an idiot for thinking that he had feelings for you, that he was going to kiss you. Your cheeks heated with embarrassment, even though Steve had no idea what you’d been thinking he was about to do.

You spent the rest of the party feeling like an absolute fool for wishing for something that would never happen.

At the end of the party, Steve and Carol both gave you a big hug. Even Tommy joined in. Besides your own angst, it was hard not to smile when you were surrounded by these people you loved - your found family.

You rode home in the passenger seat of your mom’s car, your dad sitting in the back to give you the extra space. You watched out the window, and you thought not about your high school career coming to an end, or the baby on the way, or the situation with Nancy and Barb. You thought about Steve.

Steve, Steve, Steve.

—

You put the brochure down in front of Steve. “I signed us up.”

He picked up the paper, examining it. “‘Lamaze’? What the fuck is Lamaze?”

“It’s a birthing class,” you said, although you thought he would have gotten the hint from the pictures of smiling pregnant women and dads on the front.

“A birthing class?”

“Yes, Steve. I’m 32 weeks pregnant. This baby is coming soon, and I want to be ready.” Truth be told, you were terrified. Any amount of preparation would be better than your current state.

“I- we just- well, yeah,” he said, stumbling over his words. “It’s just-“

“What?”

Steve let out a deep breath. “It’s really coming soon, huh?” You softened as you could physically feel the anxiety radiating off his form where he sat across from you at the diner. He was jittery, bouncing his leg and fiddling with his hands.

“Yeah. Really soon,” you said, not mincing any words. “But we’ve got this. We’ve had months to prepare, we have a couple more to go. The baby has been healthy, I’ve been healthy besides the blood pressure. We have the big stuff - crib, stroller, car seat. The baby shower is in 3 weeks. We’re doing okay.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re doing okay.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

“We just need to be ready for the birth, you know?” you continued. “Neither of us has ever done this before.”

“I know.” He ran a hand through his hair, longer now than when you’d met. It suited him. “Okay. I’ll go with you.”

“You were gonna go with me either way.”

He laughed. “I’ll pretend I had a choice.”

The class was that Thursday. You had been staying home since graduation, while Steve had started working with his dad. It wore him out and he kind of hated it, but it was worth it for the benefits and pay. It was really the only option to take care of the three of you.

Steve picked you up after work, still dressed in his button down and tie, loosened around his neck. He smiled at you tiredly - “Hey.”

“Hey yourself. How was work?”

“Boring. Long.” He sighed as he pulled away from the curb and drove towards the hospital the class was being held at. It was the same hospital you’d be delivering at. “I hate it.”

“I know,” you said quietly. There was nothing to be done about it, though. It didn’t stop the guilt from eating at you.

At the hospital Steve helped you get out of the car, since you were officially too big to do it yourself now. Once you were down, you were stuck without help. It made you feel useless. He put his hand on your back as you waddled inside and signed in.

The goal was to give birth without the epidural. You weren’t sure how well that was going to go for you, but you were doing everything in your power to be prepared and have the best chance of making it without the medication.

You took a seat on one of the mats, Steve helping to lower you to the ground. He sat next to you, looking awkward as he looked around at all the other couples. Not that you were a couple.

The class started with relaxation exercises. Steve sat behind you, rubbing your shoulders and back as you tried to mentally get in the zone - meditating and doing deep breathing exercises along with the instructor.

The next thing they did was play a childbirth video.

Steve turned so pale you thought he would pass out. His eyes were glued to the screen, staring in absolute horror. His jaw was dropped, like he never expected childbirth to be this graphic- or dramatic.

After the video, the instructor talked some about the birthing process. You and Steve both listened intently, Steve even taking notes in a little notebook he brought along with him. It was cute.

After the lecture portion of the class, the instructor started leading you through labor breathing exercises.

“Alright, dads,” she said in her soothing voice, clapping her hands together. “Sit behind mom and hold her - hands on the belly for support - now breathe in and out with me, just like this.”

You followed her example, breathing in quickly three times then a long breath out. You repeated the exercise over and over along with the rest of the class, Steve’s strong hands on you as he breathed along with you. It was intimate. You leaned back into his touch and his body molded around yours.

“You’re doing great,” he whispered in your ear. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Keep breathing just like that. You’re gonna kick ass.”

Steve’s words were encouraging. It wasn’t exactly the method the other dads in the room were using, including more swearing than anyone else, but it worked.

The instructor taught the dads a lot of ways to support their partners, and Steve was paying full attention. Then she instructed everyone to stand - Steve pulled you up - and had the dads stand behind their partner.

“This has nothing to do with birthing techniques,” the woman said with a smile, “it’s just a moment of relief for our moms.”

Steve followed her steps and wrapped his arms around you, hands beneath your belly. Then, on the count of 3, he lifted up slightly, holding the weight of the baby. You could have cried from relief - your back hadn’t felt better in months. You hadn’t realized how much weight you’d been carrying around.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve huffed. “You carry all this around all day??”

After the short break, she went on to talk about newborn care. Steve changed his first diaper on a doll, which went about as well as you could expect, but you knew he’d be a fast learner.

Steve left the class with a newfound appreciation for you and everything you’d been going through and would go through. He was extra attentive as he helped you into the car.

“Want me to pick up some food on the way home?” he asked, turning the key in the ignition and starting the BMW.

“God, you read my mind.”

—

You were 35 weeks when your baby shower finally came around, absolutely huge and miserable. I mean huge. You didn’t even think it was possible to become so round, yet here you were.

You had started to be in a pretty bad mood all the time since being so heavily pregnant. You were, frankly, over it. Everything hurt, you felt like you took up so much space and looked like garbage, you couldn’t breathe, and there were no comfortable positions left.

Carol helped you dress in your long pink dress, the fabric hanging flatteringly along your body. You actually looked beautiful - it had been a long time since you felt beautiful.

“Look at you,” Carol said, a huge smile on her face as she looked you over. She looked as if she might cry. “I can’t believe it’s finally here.”

“I look huge,” you said, turning each way in the mirror.

“You look like a mom,” she said. “Very womanly. I dig it.”

You laughed at that, smoothing your hands over the belly. You actually didn’t feel bad.

“Steve’s going to lose his mind.”

You froze.

“What?” Carol asked, mockingly innocent. “You think I haven’t noticed how into him you are? Or how into you he is?”

“He is not into me,” you said quickly.

“Yes, he is. I’ve known Steve since elementary school. I’ve been friends with Steve since elementary school.” Carol looked at you pointedly. “He is head over heels for you, girl.”

“He just cares about me because I’m carrying his baby. It’s nothing more than that.”

“Tell yourself that if you want,” she shrugged.

You tried to push her words out of your head as you finished getting ready for the party. They were still lingering in your head when you walked into Steve’s large immaculate living room, to a room full of people you loved and some you vaguely knew.

You weren’t usually one to be the center of attention. You’d spent most of your life flying under the radar, not drawing any extra attention to yourself. But the baby shower was like having a spotlight on you, everyone looking at you and your belly and knowing how you got here. Even if they didn’t know the Nancy part, everyone here knew you and Steve were teen parents after a hookup and weren’t even together.

You happily helped yourself to the food, however. Your and Steve’s moms, with the help of Carol, had really outdone themselves. It was the fanciest baby shower you’d ever seen.

There was a beautiful rocking chair with a bow on it by the gift table. You wiped tears away as you removed it and sat down in the chair with Steve beside you. Carol began bringing you gifts, opening one after another of baby clothes and diapers and supplies you had been panicked about being able to afford. It only made you cry harder.

“There’s one more,” Steve said after you opened the last gift. The whole room of people watched intently, which made you uncomfortable, but Steve always made you feel like you were the only two people in the world.

He moved to the table and grabbed a card. It was tucked neatly in a dark green envelope, and it was thick, like there was something inside. You looked at Steve curiously. “What is this?”

“You have to open it and see,” he laughed.

You gave him a playfully cautious look before you started to break the seal on the envelope. You pulled out a pink card decorated with baby rattles and diapers and cribs. Slowly you opened it, and your jaw dropped.

There was a key taped inside. And on the other side, written in Steve’s messy scrawl:

My gift to you. Thank you for everything you do. You are my best friend and you are going to be the best mom this world has ever seen. I can’t wait to watch it happen.

Welcome home.

The tears were falling freely now. “Steve- is this-?”

“The key to our new apartment,” he finished for you. “I’ve been looking for months and I finally found one we can afford that looks incredible. Two bedrooms. A place for us to make our own.”

“Steve-“ you cried, but it was barely audible through the tears. You weren’t even thinking about how there was a room full of people watching you cry. “You shouldn’t-“

“What, shouldn’t have gotten us a place to live together like a real family?” He chuckled. “Let yourself be happy, sweetheart. You deserve this.”

The whole room of people were watching, some tearing up at the affectionate display. Steve must have been saving up for this since he got the job with his dad, not spending a single cent on anything for himself. His selflessness never ceased to amaze you, even though you should be used to it by now.

The baby shower was a huge success. You got everything you needed. You were in tears by the time the party was over, giving everyone a hug and all your gratitude as they left. When the guests were gone, you were left alone with Steve and both of your parents.

“You have until this weekend to move out,” Mr. Harrington said to Steve. “I’m not supporting you with a kid on the way.”

The whole vibe in the room shifted. What was once full of joy and happiness was now awkward and stilted. Mr. Harrington had brought the mood down once again.

“You know,” your mother said, “I think you should be proud of them. Sure, they got themselves into a mess, but look at them.” She looked at Steve with a smile, then at you with so much emotion in her eyes. “They’re doing great for themselves. Graduated, a good job, an apartment. They’re going to be okay. I believe in them.”

No one said anything at first. Your mom wrapped her arm around you, pulling you close like she often did when you were half her height. Finally, Mr. Harrington cleared his throat.

“Well. Isn’t that sweet. And naive.”

He turned and left before anyone could say anything else. You could tell your mom was pissed - she wasn’t one to be walked over. But for your sake, she didn’t push it.

“I…” Mrs Harrington began. “I’m…sorry, about him.”

Her words caught you off guard. Even Steve was surprised. He’d never heard her speak against his father before. She pulled Steve into a hug, holding him tight.

“I’m proud of you, son. You’re going to be a great father.”

Steve held her back, the emotions in the room now even more heightened, but not in the way they had been before Steve’s father left. This was better. This was love.

Steve held you tightly when you were on the way out the door with your parents. “I’ll come pick you up this weekend and we’ll move. Well, I’ll move. You can sit and look pretty while telling me where things go.”

Pretty?

“Okay,” you giggled, ignoring that part of what he said. “Bye, Steve.”

“Bye, sweetheart.”

—

Saturday, it was moving time. Just about everyone was pitching in to help - Steve’s mom, your parents, Tommy and Carol. Steve and Tommy carried the couch in and sat it in the living room, and that became your command center for the rest of the day.

You sat down, aching feet up on the coffee table they brought in shortly after. You watched the bustle around you as everyone carried box after box, furniture after furniture. Steve and Tommy got into an argument trying to get the bed frame into the bedroom door, until your dad came over and showed them how to turn it.

After the main furniture was up, you were able to get up and start decorating. You had been longing to nest, body itching to get ready for the baby. It was instinctual, all you could think about was preparing for this baby.

Everyone brought in the boxes from the baby shower. You set up in the nursery with Carol while everyone else finished up.

“We’re getting Steve and Tommy to figure this out,” Carol said, examining the crib manual with her nose scrunched up. “Because I have no fucking idea what this is telling me to do.”

When the rest of the furniture and boxes were moved, your parents began unpacking them while Tommy and Steve joined you and Carol.

“What is this, fuckin’, physics?” Tommy said, the instructions in his hands now. Steve snatched them from him.

“Let me see.”

An hour later and the crib still wasn’t finished, Steve and Tommy arguing every two seconds. You and Carol were opening the baby shower gifts and finding them a place in the room.

“I can’t believe how tiny these clothes are,” Carol gushed, holding them up and looking at them with heart eyes. “I want one.”

“Uh, you can forget about that one,” Tommy said.

You had asked for books instead of cards from your guests, so you had a large selection of baby books you slid onto the wall shelf. Carol cut the tags off the baby clothes and fit them onto the tiny hangers, folding the ones that went in the drawers.

When you were done, it looked like a proper nursery. The dark brown crib had a sheet on it, a personalized blanket hanging over the side. The books and clothes were put away. The stroller was in the closet, car seat ready to be installed in Steve’s car. There was a bouncer and baby swing, a collection of breastfeeding supplies, a changing table and plenty of diapers to get you started.

“Not long now,” Steve said when you were left alone in the apartment, standing in the nursery together and looking at what you’d done together. He rubbed his hand over your large belly, feeling Ellie kicking him. He smiled. He was happy.

—

“Oh my god,” Carol said, holding up a tiny frilly dress. “This is the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

The cashier gave her a disapproving look.

“There’s so many clothes,” you said, running your hand through the rack. “Will she need a lot of clothes?”

“Oh, yeah,” Carol said. “My little brother went through like, 5 outfits a day. Poop and throw up and all that.”

“Ugh.” You both laughed, browsing the store’s selection. There were way more baby girl clothes than baby boy clothes. But you thought about the future - maybe you’d be back one day shopping for a baby boy.

“Oh my god, look at this!” She held up another pink dress, a white bow around it. “You have to get this one. Ellie’s going to look so cute.”

The dress was extremely cute. You took it from Carol’s hands. You put it in your basket - she was right, Ellie had to have it.

You were just looking at another section of clothes when you felt a gush between your legs.

You gasped. “Carol-!”

Her jaw dropped. “Oh my god. Did what I think just happened just happen?”

“I-I think so,” you said. “But it’s early. It’s too early.”

“You’re 35 weeks right??”

“Yes.” You bent over as a strong contraction wracked through your body. You breathed out a rush of air, groaning as you held onto the rack with one hand and your belly with the other.

That’s when you noticed the blood. A lot of it.

The cashier came rushing over to you. “Ma’am? Are you okay? Do you need me to call an ambulance?”

You nodded, words unable to come with the amount of pain you were in, the fear struck deep into your chest. Carol was panicking.

The woman ran back to the phone and called 911, while Carol helped you find a place to sit. You sat on the chair, but quickly realized that wasn’t helping at all. You stood and began pacing, doing your breathing exercises like you’d learned in class. Tears streamed down your face, not from the pain, but from the pure horror, the fear that your baby wouldn’t be okay.

When the paramedics arrived, they got you on the stretcher immediately and prepared to rush you to the hospital. Carol jumped in the back with you, holding your hand.

“Hey. You’re doing great. You’re doing so good. Everything’s gonna be okay. We’ll call Steve at the hospital, okay? Then he’ll be there and the doctors can help you and everything will be fine.” Carol was rambling, her hand shaking in yours.

At the hospital you were brought upstairs immediately, changed into a gown and hooked up to monitors. Your blood pressure was still high and you were still

bleeding. They rushed an ultrasound machine into the room, beginning the exam as Carol called Steve.

“Steve?” Carol said into the phone. “She- she’s in labor. Yes, I’m sure. We know it’s early. There’s…there’s a lot of blood. We’re already at the hospital. Okay. By-“ She put the phone down. “He’s on his way. He hung up on me.”

Carol was helping you through your breathing exercises, trying to keep you calm as much as she could. You could tell she was freaked out, but she was being a good friend. The best, really.

The doctors finished their exam and determined you had experienced placental abruption.

“This is very, very serious,” the doctor said. “We’re going to prepare you for a C-section now.”

You didn’t want that. You didn’t want any of this. You had spent so long preparing for birth, preparing your pain management exercises and everything for the natural birth of your dreams. But anything to give Ellie the best chance of survival. You were getting woozy from the blood loss.

“Wait,” you said weakly as they put a cap over your hair and prepared to rush you to the OR. “Steve-“

“We have to take you for surgery right now,” one of the nurses said. “I don’t want to alarm you, but this is very serious. We can’t wait for anyone.”

You started crying again. None of this was happening the way you’d hoped. As they wheeled you out into the hall, you heard footsteps running down the hall. You turned your head, relieved to see a panicked Steve rushing to your side, still dressed in his nice clothes from work.

“I’m here,” he said, grabbing your hand. “I’m here.”

“Sir, we’re taking her for an emergency C-section right now,” the nurse said. “Someone will get you some scrubs and you can meet us in there.”

Steve reluctantly watched them take you, feeling helpless as he was left behind.

You were still out of it as they brought you into the freezing cold operating room, moving you onto the metal table covered in a sheet. There was a curtain separating your chest from the rest of your body, preventing you from seeing what was going on.

They put an oxygen mask on you and administered medication into your IV. It wasn’t long before you couldn’t feel anything below your arms anymore. Your vision was hazy, and all of a sudden you weren’t worried about anything anymore.

Steve rushed into the room dressed in hospital scrubs with a hair cap matching yours. The fear in his eyes was evident, and they were red as if he’d been crying. “Sweetheart,” he said, placing a kiss on your forehead and holding your hand. “I’m here. Everything is gonna be okay. The doctors are gonna help you and Ellie is gonna be here in our arms soon, healthy and beautiful.” It wasn’t clear who he was trying to convince.

You were out of it, not feeling a thing as they made the incision. Steve was freaking out, his hand shaking where it held one of yours that was strapped down. It felt like it was only seconds before the sound of crying filled the room.

Steve huffed a disbelieving breath, a smile on his face as he cried and looked at the tiny little baby with complete awe. The nurses cleaned her up, checking her out to make sure she was okay. She was so tiny, wiggling and crying. You had never seen something so small, so delicate.

The nurse wrapped her in a hospital blanket, putting a soft cap on her head full of brown hair. She brought her over to you and Steve as the doctors continued working on you, trying to stop the bleeding unbeknownst to you.

Steve took her from the nurse’s arms with all the gentleness of a brand new dad. He was shaking as he pushed the blanket down slightly to uncover her angelic face. Her eyes were closed, content in her father’s arms. He leaned over and held her down for you to see.

“Look,” Steve said gently. “Look what we did.”

You couldn’t stop the tears as you saw your daughter for the first time. She was perfect. Chubby little cheeks, pouty lips, button nose. She looked like the perfect mix of you and Steve.

“Hi, Ellie,” you whispered, your voice weak. “You are the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Steve chuckled, a tear escaping from his eye and rolling down his cheek. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Perfect.”

—

Elizabeth Louise Harrington was born healthy, 6 lbs 7 oz. She only needed a short time in the nicu before they discharged her. You spent every waking moment in a wheelchair by her bassinet, holding and rocking her, taking turns with Steve, who was there the second he got off work.

Your mom was the first one to visit. She had hurried to the hospital as soon as Carol called her to tell her what had happened. She cried, a lot. But when she held her granddaughter in her arms, everything in the world was right.

Your dad came after work, smiling down at the tiny bundle in his wife’s arms. He put a hand on your shoulder, and looked at Steve. “You did good, kids.”

Steve’s mom was there shortly after. She cooed at the tiny baby, walking around the room and rocking her like a total natural. It may have been 18 years since she’d done this, but her instinct never left. His father never came.

That evening, once both of your parents had left, Tommy and Carol came over. “Oh my goddd!” Carol squealed quietly, coming over to you with her arms outstretched. “Let Auntie Carol see that perfect baby.”

Carol sat next to you on the bed as you handed the baby to her. She was so gentle as she took Ellie into her arms, bouncing her softly and cooing. “Look at you, pretty girl. Gonna be just as beautiful as your mama.”

Tommy took a seat on the room’s couch next to Steve. “Congrats, man,” he said, slapping Steve on the back.

“Thanks,” he said sheepishly.

“How do you like being a dad?”

Steve looked over at you, Ellie, and Carol on the bed, and he smiled. His chest felt warm and fuzzy, his heart soaring. “It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

They let you both go home from the hospital a week later. Steve took a week off of work to help you out, but that’s all his dad was willing to give him. You tucked Ellie safely into her car seat, buckling her in safely. Steve was so paranoid about hurting her.

The nurse pushed you out of the hospital in a wheelchair while Steve carried the baby carrier to his car. He hooked it into the backseat, and helped you climb into the back next to her. You weren’t ready to let her ride back there alone yet.

Steve drove home at a snail’s pace. The other cars on the road honked at you, but Steve didn’t care. All he cared about was getting his girls home safely.

He carried the carrier in one hand while he helped you walk your sore body into the apartment with his other. He got you comfortable on the couch before taking a sleeping Ellie out of her seat. He bounced her gently as he walked around the room.

It was so strange to be here, in this home, with your family. Your family, the one you created. Steve, and the baby girl you’d created together.

Only you and Steve weren’t together.

Steve hadn’t talked about girls at all since you’d been pregnant. You had taken his full attention. But what about when he decided he wanted to date again? How would you handle that? The thought filled you with dread.

Because you were starting to feel something for Steve that scared you.

You spent the first week home on the couch mostly. Steve brought you everything you needed, while helping you move a little more each day. You were still so sore from surgery, but you were determined to be ready to care for Ellie on your own when Steve went back to work.

Steve’s first diaper change had been an experience. He gagged, being dramatic as hell while you watched on and laughed. “You’re gonna have to get used to it, bud.”

“This is foul. How does such a tiny little thing poop so much?”

You had a newborn photo shoot scheduled 2 weeks after you came home. You dressed Ellie in a tiny dress, you and Steve dressing in matching nice clothes.

“Okay, mom and dad,” the photographer said. “Why don’t you get close and hold her between you?”

Steve moved close to you, holding Ellie between your bodies. The sleeping newborn cradled perfectly in your arms together, the photos were taken. You had chills at the proximity. You found that you liked being close to Steve. You liked it a lot.

That night, you got Ellie settled and laid her down in her crib. You were exhausted, as you always were these days. “I’m ready for bed,” you told Steve, yawning big.

“Me too,” he said. “Go on and get ready and I’ll be in soon.”

Since the apartment only had two bedrooms, you and Steve had agreed to share the bed. It was purely platonic, of course, even though you often woke up with Steve’s arm wrapped tightly around you and his face buried in your neck as he snored lightly. You never moved him when that happened.

After you’d had a shower and gotten in bed, Steve came and did the same before joining you. You both drifted off to sleep so fast, as you always did these days.

It was 3am when you were woken by the baby monitor. You picked it up, seeing Ellie fussing. You sighed - you never minded taking care of her, but you were just so tired tonight. You were getting up when Steve stopped you.

“I got it,” he said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “You go back to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. “You have work tomorrow.”

“I’m sure. Get some rest, please.”

You watched Steve leave, wondering how you got so lucky.

Steve went into the nursery, scooping a crying Ellie from her crib. “Hi, baby girl,” he said quietly. “Are you hungry? Let’s go warm you up a bottle.”

You had a supply of pumped milk so Steve could feed her, too. He went into the kitchen with the baby in his arms, making the bottle one handed like a pro. He settled into the recliner and rocked as he fed the bottle to Ellie, who was snuggled against his shirtless chest.

He was so sleepy, but he’d rather be here than anywhere else.

A month into her life, Ellie started crying constantly. It was like there was nothing you could do to calm her. It broke your heart to see her so upset, like she was in pain. Steve was stressing out hard.

“What do we do??” he asked, pacing and running his hands through his hair. “What’s wrong with her? Why won’t she calm down?”

A trip to the doctor later, Ellie had a diagnosis of colic. You were basically told there was nothing you could do, it was just something that had to run its course. Nevertheless, you both put your all into trying to make her feel better. Making sure she burped well after eating, giving her gas drops, walking the hall with her at night for hours until she finally fell asleep. Steve never once complained. He was so devoted to his daughter, it made your chest ache with love.

Love.

One of those nights, when Ellie was 7 weeks old and after she had finally fallen asleep, you and Steve collapsed on the couch, exhausted. You laid your head on his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around you.

“You okay?” he asked you quietly.

“Yeah,” you said. “What about you?”

“I’m good. I’m happy.” He smiled down at you. “I know this is hard, but I love being a dad. I love my girl. Both of my girls.”

There was that word again. Love.

“Steve,” you started, sitting up on the couch and turning to face him as you talked. “What do you want for your future?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, furrowing his brows.

“Like, what do you want? Where do you want to be?”

“I want to be right here,” he said easily.

“No, but, you know what I mean. For the future. Do you want to get married to someone? Have more kids?”

Steve smiled. “Definitely. I want a big family.”

“Yeah? Even after all this?” you laughed sleepily.

“Of course. I want like, six kids.”

“Jesus.”

Steve laughed. “And…I don’t want to marry ‘someone’.”

You raised your eyebrows. “You don’t want to get married?”

“No, I mean, of course I do.” He seemed flustered, something you didn’t see from him often. “I just…it’s someone in particular.”

Your heart sunk. Nancy, you thought. He had never gotten over her. He was still in love with Nancy.

“You. I want to marry you.”

You froze. You were sure you were just hearing things, going crazy from the lack of sleep and hearing the things you wanted to hear. He had not just said that. “What?” you said, the only thing you could think to say.

“I…” He leaned forward, placing his hand on the side of your face so you were looking at him. “I love you. I’m in love with you. I have been for a long time.”

You gaped at him like an idiot. “Steve…”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I just…I’ve been waiting for the right moment for months, and I just-“

You cut him off by leaning forward and pressing your lips onto his.

Steve wasted no time in kissing you back, pulling you closer to him, closer and closer until you were straddling his lap as his arms wrapped around you and your lips worked together. You moaned against his lips, which drove Steve absolutely crazy.

He put his hands on your ass, grinding you against his lap. He was hard already, like he wanted you bad. Hell, you wanted him just as bad. He groaned into your mouth as your tongues started working together, his hands sliding up and down your body and feeling every part of you.

“God, you-“ he said, totally breathless and pupils blown wide in lust. “You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my life.”

That was hard to believe, especially when he’d been so head over heels for Nancy, who in your mind was so much prettier and better than you. But you could tell he was telling the truth.

“I love you,” you said between kisses, finally saying the words that had been on the tip of your tongue for months and months. “I love you. I love you.”

Steve groaned and held you even closer, his erection pressing up against you. It made you impossibly wet, grinding down onto him. You’d only had sex the one time in your life, and you’d thought about it every day since it happened.

“Can I take you to the room?” Steve asked, his voice low as he toyed with the hem of your shirt. “Our room?”

“Yes,” you told him, wanting nothing more.

He lifted you up with little effort, carrying you into the bedroom while you wrapped your arms and legs around him. He carefully laid you down on the bed, careful of your stitches. He pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor before crawling over you still in his pajama pants.

He kissed all over your neck, making you whine, pulling slightly on his hair which made him groan. His hands slowly slid beneath your shirt, pushing it up and up until he took it completely off. You immediately covered your body up with your arms.

“Baby…” Steve murmured. “What are you doing?”

“I just…” you let out a breath. “My body is a lot different than the last time you saw it.”

Steve looked almost hurt. “Baby. You are beautiful. You carried and birthed my child. You could not be any hotter to me.”

Steve’s words almost had you tearing up, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment. You slowly lowered your arms, revealing your body to him. True to his word, Steve looked at you with nothing but love and desire in his eyes.

He kissed all over your body, your stomach, your chest, your neck, your lips. He was worshipping your body, loving every single part of it. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

He started kissing down your body, down between your legs, but you stopped him. “I just want you,” you said, your voice coming out more whiney and pleading than you meant.

Steve smirked. He pulled your pants and panties off the rest of the way. “Well, you have me.”

He pushed his own pants and boxers down, his large election springing free. He was even more massive than you remembered from your drunken night together. It was intimidating.

Steve kissed you on the lips again, a slow, loving, sensual kiss. You felt his tip at your entrance as he rubbed it between your folds, getting his cock nice and wet. “Are you ready?” he asked you, so quiet. You nodded.

He pushed inside, the stretch taking your breath away. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he set a slow pace, his face buried in your neck as he groaned in pleasure. “Jesus,” he moaned. “You are so tight. Feels so good.”

“You’re…huge, Steve,” you whined, making him chuckle breathlessly.

“Is it okay? Is it too much? Should I stop?”

“No, no,” you said quickly. “Keep going. Please.”

Steve obeyed, rocking his hips into you at a slightly

faster pace. The old bed creaked lightly beneath your movements, the headboard knocking into the wall. “Fuck, fuck,” he moaned. “God. I’m not gonna last long. It’s been so long, and you feel like heaven. My beautiful, beautiful girl.”

“Oh, Steve,” you moaned, back arching as he hit that bundle of nerves deep inside. “Feels good. Keep going just like that.”

He intertwined your fingers together above your head, his left hand holding onto your hip. He thrusted into you faster, faster, faster, making the hottest, most sinful noises as he neared release.

“I’m getting close,” he said, hips snapping against you. “Oh, fuck.” He readjusted so he had a hand to lean on while the other dipped between your bodies, rubbing tight circles on your clit.

“Oh!” you moaned at the sudden feeling, pussy clenching around Steve’s cock and making him let out the most pathetic whimper.

“Jesus- Jesus Christ,” he said, breathless. “You’re killin’ me.”

“I’m really close, Steve,” you whined, writhing under him. “Really close.”

“Go ahead and cum for me, sweetheart,” he coaxed. “Let me feel it. Make a mess all on my cock for me.”

Your lips parted in a gasp, eyes rolling back as an orgasm crashed into you. Your pussy clenched around his cock tightly, and Steve cried out, his hips stuttering into you. The second you came down from your orgasm he pulled out, jerking his cock a couple times before he shot ropes of his cum all over your stomach and tits, groaning as he watched. He came so much, covering you in it.

He admired his work for a few seconds as he caught his breath. He had never seen anything hotter. When he was finally back to earth, he hopped off the bed and ran into the attached bathroom, grabbing a towel and coming back to clean you up. “Sorry,” he said with a sheepish smile.

“It’s okay,” you said with a giggle. “That was hot.”

Once you were cleaned up, he collapsed into the bed with you, both still naked. Wrapping his arm around you, he pulled you close into him, spooning you and snuggling his face into the back of your neck.

“I love you,” he said. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too, Steve. So much.”

—

Things found their version of normal eventually. It helped when you could start getting out of the house with Ellie, just getting some fresh air and seeing the outside world. Carol came over a lot, so it wasn’t like you had been totally lonely, but there’s nothing like going out in public.

Ellie was 5 months old. You and Steve had been officially together for 4ish months, and it was going amazing. You had never been happier. You had driven yourself and Ellie to Bradley’s Big Buy on your own for the first time since her birth.

“You wanna ride in the cart?” you asked her, earning a big grin from the baby even though she had no idea what you’d said. You settled her into the front of the cart - taking the time to disinfect it with wipes first. Ellie held onto the bar as you pushed her into the store.

Bread…milk…pasta…dish soap…diapers.

You began grabbing the things you needed, Ellie totally amazed at the world around her. It was adorable to see. But just as you grabbed the bread and were about to leave the aisle, you nearly bumped into someone.

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” you said. “I didn’t-“

Nancy.

You froze, just staring at her. She looked different. She had a perm now, and it really suited her. She looked beautiful as she always did.

“It’s…it’s okay,” she said, her eyes roaming to Ellie in the cart. Ellie smiled big at her, and Nancy couldn’t help but return it.

“How…how have you been?” you asked her, unsure if she wanted to talk to you at all.

“Oh. I’ve been good. I got a job at the newspaper. Me and Jonathan just got an apartment together.” She smiled gently.

“That’s great,” you said, and you meant it. You were happy to see her doing well, to see her happy. “I’m glad things are going well for you.”

“Yeah,” she said. “How- how are you?”

You were surprised she asked. “I’m doing well. Recovered from surgery now and everything. Ellie’s doing fantastic.”

“I’m really happy to hear that,” she said, and she seemed genuine. “I heard it was a rough birth.”

“Yeah.” Ellie reached for you, and you grabbed her hand, letting her wrap her tiny fingers around yours. “But, you know, it was worth it. To have her.”

Nancy nodded. “I’m sure.” A pause. “How’s Steve?”

“He’s great. Working for his dad now.” You debated whether to continue. “We, uh…we’ve been together for about 4 months now.”

“Oh,” she said. She didn’t seem upset, like she had expected that. “I’m happy for you both. Steve’s…he’s a good guy.”

You smiled. “Yeah. He is.”

There was a moment of silence between you before Nancy shook her head. “Well. I need to get going, I’m just picking up lunch for the staff. It was…it was good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too, Nance.”

She gave you a polite smile before pushing her cart off. You watched her go, her curly hair disappearing into another aisle.

You weren’t sure what to make of the interaction. She certainly didn’t seem like she hated you anymore. But you knew you would never be friends again, and that part broke your heart.

Maybe there was progress to be made.

—

Life with Steve and Ellie was wonderful. Steve was an amazing dad- the best. He was also an amazing boyfriend. He made you feel loved and cherished, safe and cared for.

He worked with Ellie every day, first down on the floor with her for tummy time, then once she mastered that and grew older, he did his best to teach her how to crawl.

“You know, I crawled backwards as a baby,” he said randomly one day.

“Huh?”

“It’s true,” he said. “I just…” He held his hands up and mimicked crawling backwards.

You laughed hard. “That is so Steve.”

“What does that mean??”

At Christmas, he went all out. He spoiled her as much as he could afford, even though he knew she wouldn’t remember a thing about it or even understand it. Christmas day Steve was the one to wake you up bright and early- “It’s Christmas!!!”

You drank some coffee, taking pictures while Steve sat on the floor with Ellie, helping her open her presents. She was delighted with everything she opened, and you and Steve had a blast watching her enjoy Christmas.

Her first birthday party was a whole occasion, too. It was at the Harrington’s, since they had so much space. Even Steve’s dad softened in the presence of Ellie Harrington. Steve cried when everyone sang her happy birthday.

When you had been together for a year, Steve asked your mom to babysit so he could take you out for dinner to celebrate your anniversary. He wouldn’t tell you where you were going, but told you to dress fancy.

You wore a red dress that hugged your curves in the most perfect way. Steve nearly started drooling when he saw you. But you felt the same way about him, dressed up nice.

He took you to Enzo’s, a place you’d never been. “Get anything you want,” he said. “I don’t want you to worry about the price tonight.”

You tried your best to ignore the exorbitant prices as you scanned the menu, eventually deciding on a chicken alfredo. The food was delicious, you practically moaned when you took your first bite.

“I would order us some wine, but I get the feeling they won’t fall for my fake ID here,” Steve said, making you laugh. You drank sparkling water instead, still in the fancy spirit.

After dinner you shared a piece of chocolate cake. You speared a bite onto your fork and held it out to Steve, who happily opened his mouth to let you feed it to him before he did the same to you. You giggled, feeling both very grown up and also like a couple of kids.

After you finished dessert, you were full. You were ready to get the check and head home back to Ellie when Steve spoke up, saying your name.

“Baby,” he said. “I…I wanted to ask you something.”

You looked at him curiously. “What is it?”

He reached into his pocket, then stood. When he got down on one knee, you gasped, covering your mouth with your hands, the tears falling already.

He said your full name, looking deep into your eyes as he opened the box, revealing the most beautiful diamond ring you’d ever laid eyes on. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes! Oh my god, yes yes yes.”

Steve smiled as he slipped the ring onto your finger - a perfect fit. He stood and pulled you into a kiss as the entire restaurant clapped for you - a literal dream come true.

Forever with the love of your life.

Stay tuned for the sequel baby daddy series!!

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artficlly · 18 hours ago

Text

lessons in lovemaking [part two]

marvel au bucky x blackwidow!reader You and Bucky Barnes go undercover as a married couple, but when a fake kiss gets too real, he unexpectedly finishes in his pants—leaving you both stunned.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, fem reader, dry humping, blindfolding, grinding, soft dom vibes reader, soft sub vibes bucky, bucky is touch starved, clothed ejaculation, vague mentions of previous sa, ex black widow reader, very consensual, safe words, kissing, bucky barnes needs a hug, if you squint, there's some plot, fluff, angst, bickering, reader is lowkey depressed, mentions of past violence, death and war, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 8.6k

A/N: hey guys, i'm literally so nervous posting this... it's been sitting in my drafts for like a month now and i finally worked up the courage to post after spending a couple hours editing :( i'm literally scheduling this to post at like 3am my time so i'm not awake when it goes live i'm so anxious bahaha. the start of this part is a bit slow, pls hold on because theres some light smut and angst at the end. i have plans for further parts that'll look more into the other avengers finding out and the development between bucky and readers relationship and their shared healing. sorry for any typos - not proof read.

main masterlist | series masterlist

It was only on rare occasions that the full team of Avengers (and co.) were in the same room. A momentous historical moment, in fact, normally reserved for two particular occasions:

The world was ending (in some gloriously diabolical way that usually involved aliens, interdimensional warlords, or some ancient, forgotten god with a vendetta) or

Tony Stark was throwing another one of his famously exclusive penthouse parties (which, despite being ‘exclusive,’ still managed to include half of New York—most of whom showed up just to gawk at the Avengers like a travelling circus act sent to entertain them personally.)

Today, it seemed, was neither of those occasions. Thor and the rest of the Asgardians—Bruce Banner included, oddly enough—were busy rebuilding after the destruction of Asgard. Wanda and Vision were off playing happy family elsewhere, and Clint was busy with his own quickly expanding family. The others, agents, specialists, the people whose names you never bothered to remember, were preoccupied with their own missions. Which left you here, filed neatly into the elusive extra category. Not quite an Avenger. Too valuable to be let loose, too unpredictable to be fully trusted.

You leant back in your chair, only half-listening to the conversation beside you. The skin around your thumbnail was raw. You picked at it absentmindedly, peeling back the edge where it had already started to flake, a sting flaring along the nail. You were thinking—too much, maybe—so you let them talk, let yourself disappear as they debated which bar had the strongest drinks and the least pathetic men.

The three of you were early. By some miracle, morning training had ended ahead of schedule. Natasha had wiped the floor with you, to the point where it probably would’ve been more productive to stay on the mat rather than waste your energy hauling yourself back up.

“What do you think?” It took you a second to realise Yelena was talking to you, elbows propped on the table, chin resting in her hand. She was watching you expectantly, sharp eyes narrowed.

You didn’t look up. “I’m not coming.”

She sighed dramatically. “You never hang out with us.” She leant back in her chair with an exaggerated huff, muttering under her breath, “So mysterious and cool. You think you’re better than us?”

Natasha watched on amused, the redhead poised as always. “She doesn’t want to drink in front of us in case she spills her secrets.”

You scoffed. “What secrets?”

“I don’t know.” Natasha leant forward, watching you a little too closely now, like she was gauging your reaction. “How about how that mission went with Barnes?”

Ever since the gala mission, the two had been trying to get you alone, a few drinks in, hoping for something—a slip, an offhanded remark, anything that would confirm whatever hunches they had. You knew what they were fishing for. They weren’t subtle.

You just weren’t playing.

Neither you nor Bucky had said a word about it.

That, apparently, was suspicious.

“She is right, you know. Neither of you will say a word about it. I’m beginning to think something happened—” Yelena cut over her sister with a grin.

“Nothing happened,” you interrupted smoothly, finally lifting your eyes from the wreckage of your thumbnail. “You keep asking, but you’re not going to uncover some dirty secret. Sorry to disappoint."

“Then why the silence? No one would care if you fucked him, you could just plead innocence, overcome by playing the perfect, doting wife—”

You shot her a look, one withering enough to turn bone to dust and ego to rubble.

“I mean… maybe people would care, but I wouldn’t judge you! Super soldier, metal arm… so hot, or whatever.” Yelena prattled on, and you ignored her, exhaling through your nose.

"I think he’s just mortified that people assume something did happen. He’s got enough brooding energy as it is." You muttered.

“I just don’t believe nothing happened, trapped in that hotel room together for a week. Apparently, you were convincing enough to keep the targets off your scent, and we all know Barnes’ acting is as stiff as a cadaver on ice—”

Your face twisted into a look of exasperation before you could control yourself, straightening in your seat. “God, you two really are like vultures, picking around for the slightest bit of gossip—”

“Wow, defensive—”

“Isn’t that the joy in life? Digging for gossip?” Natasha cut back in with a sharp smirk.

“You two are insufferable!” You interrupted, slapping your palms onto your thighs. "I think I’ll keep my secrets. I’ll leave the both of you to continue plotting this fantastical mystery you’ve created in your minds—”

“It’s only fun because you get so worked up about it,” Natasha cut back with a grin you could only describe as predatory. “Plus, I do love watching Rogers squirm listening to all the theories."

“You know,” Yelena mused, swirling the thought around before letting it slip, “I don’t think Steve is as innocent as we think he is. I’m pretty sure I heard him and Sharon—”

She cut herself off just as the door swung open, and the rest of the team filtered in.

You schooled your reaction, easily slipping back into the picture of nonchalance. Bucky’s blue eyes flickered towards yours for a split second before darting away. It had been two weeks since your first ‘lesson’. Two weeks of carefully measured distance, of subtle glances that never lasted too long, of conversations that stayed just professional enough to not raise questions.

Bucky had been doing well—shockingly well, actually. He was receptive to your touch, followed your guidance with careful precision, and was beginning to trust you, bit by bit. You hadn’t gone much further than heated make-out sessions that usually ended with him finishing in his pants, but you weren’t in a rush. You were still feeling out his comfort zones, making sure he never felt cornered or overwhelmed. There wasn’t exactly a handbook for this kind of arrangement.

You slumped in your seat even further, shaking off the feeling. It was fine. No one knew.

Still, the way Bucky avoided looking in your direction made something prickle under your skin.

You were certain the super soldier would combust on the spot if any of his coworkers caught wind of what the two of you had been up to. Hell, he turned red enough just having you perched in his lap during lessons, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. And yet, during meetings, training, or any moment the two of you were forced into the same orbit, you couldn’t help but wonder—did he think about those moments? Did his mind drift back to the ghost of your touch the same way yours did?

You weren’t usually the sentimental type. Nostalgia was a luxury, a foolish indulgence you had long since trained yourself out of. But there was something about him—his quiet hesitance, his wary but willing surrender—that stuck with you. It was a service, nothing more. A transaction in which you gained no tangible benefit, so why did you linger on it? Why did the thought of his gaze meeting yours send a sharp thrill through your chest? Was it because he treated you like a person instead of a tool? Because he understood pieces of you no one else even tried to?

He wasn’t like the others. Never cruel, never greedy. He never reached for more than you offered, never treated you like something to be taken. Maybe that was why you kept coming back. Maybe, for once, you liked the control. Liked the feeling of choosing, of being wanted on your own terms. Of knowing that, for once, you weren’t a marionette dancing on someone else’s strings.

You swallowed the thought down and let your gaze flicker to him. Bucky sat curled in on himself, as if trying to shrink into nothing despite the broadness of his frame. He looked like a wounded animal—no, worse. He looked exhausted. The dark circles beneath his eyes had deepened, his hair unwashed and slightly greasy at the roots. He wasn’t sleeping. He wasn’t taking care of himself. You didn’t need to be a genius to figure that out.

He stared blankly at the grain of the wooden table, shoulders hunched between Steve and Sam, who were deep in conversation about something you didn’t care enough to eavesdrop on. And for reasons you weren’t ready to name, that quiet, hollow stillness of his sat uneasily in your chest.

You had… concerns for Bucky after what he had confessed to you. But you weren’t sure what to do with those concerns. Or those confessions. You held them close to your chest, unwilling to betray his trust, but understanding instead. You knew it was probably irresponsible of you to sit on them, but you didn’t want to overstep. Besides, Steve and Sam didn’t know you. You’d had maybe three conversations with each of them, most of them mission-related. To them, you were just Natasha and Yelena’s friend—Red Room collateral. You weren’t social, you weren’t a part of their circle, and you sure as hell weren’t someone they trusted.

And if they knew about your arrangement with Bucky… well, you didn’t want to think about what conclusions they’d draw—

“Hi!”

The sudden, chirpy voice nearly startled you out of your seat.

Kate Bishop had arrived—loud, bright, and effortlessly excitable, like a golden retriever in human form. She had that kind of energy that made you suspicious. No one was that happy all the time. Her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, messy strands framing her face. She was dressed in casual, slightly dishevelled layers, looking like she had just come from sparring but didn’t have the same dead-in-the-eyes exhaustion you did after a training session.

“I’m Kate!” she announced, beaming at you like you were about to be best friends. She pushed her hand out. “Kate Bishop.”

You blinked at her, ignoring her outstretched offer. “I know.”

Her grin didn’t waver, and she coolly withdrew her hand.

“You’re Clint and Yelena’s pet project.” You spoke again, your tone perhaps a little more hostile than necessary.

“It’s apprentice, actually.” Yelena cut in before Kate could argue. “You know, you’re starting to hurt my feelings. Stark has an apprentice, so why are you always giving me shit—”

“Oh yes, Stark’s pet project.” You gave an exaggerated sigh. “What was his name? Paxton, Peyton, or was it Parker?”

“Did I ask for your opinion, K.G.B. Barbie?” Tony Stark’s voice cut in lazily as he walked past, sitting at the head of the table like he owned the place—which, unfortunately for you, he did. As usual, he didn’t look pleased to see you, and the scent of entitlement wafted off of him in waves.

You met his gaze evenly. "No, but I was under the impression that unsolicited opinions were your love language, considering the amount your hand out.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Remind me why we let you sit at the big kids’ table again?”

"You don’t." You glanced at Stark, unimpressed. "But I was invited, shockingly enough. Or are you reckless enough to ignore Fury’s instructions now?"

There it was. That smirk. He smirked at you, and you knew in your heart he had the foulest, most cutting rebuke to lay upon you. He hadn’t even opened his mouth, and you were already grinding your teeth in frustration as you stared back at him, eyes locked onto his smug face—

Kate cleared her throat, stepping in before you and Stark could escalate any further. “So, what do you do?”

Stark held his tongue, so in return, you slid your gaze back over to a nervous Kate. And in that moment, you knew you couldn’t help yourself. Natasha had already shot you a warning look, but the redhead's trained patience for the playboy Stark had unfortunately never extended to you.

"Infiltration, espionage, recon." You shrugged, expression carefully neutral. "I gather information, and then the big boys get to swoop in, throw a few punches, and take all the credit. Isn’t that right, Stark?"

Maybe you had woken up grouchier than usual—not that you could even call the few hours of restless tossing and turning sleep. Or perhaps it was the fact that you’d spent the morning eating the training mat, then had to suffer through Natasha and Yelena’s constant interrogations that had soured your mood. Either way, you weren’t exactly in the best headspace to deal with him.

Truthfully, you thought Stark was a prick, and unfortunately, you had never been exactly shy about that opinion. You and Stark had just never really clicked. Not in the way he had with the others, not in the way Natasha had seamlessly folded herself into the team, or the way Yelena had bulldozed her way in, loud and brash. You existed somewhere in between, tolerated but always lingering on the outside. It wasn’t that you didn’t get along with them. You could banter with Sam, hold an easy conversation with Steve when necessary and trade dry humour with Clint in a way that made you feel almost at home. Even Stark, for all his grating personality, wasn’t always intolerable. But there was always something between you and them—an unspoken distance, a careful line you never crossed. They didn’t entirely trust you yet, and you never gave them a reason to try.

Not because you didn’t want to.

But because trust had never been a luxury you could afford.

Your job was reading people—analysing, dissecting, and manipulating. You understood them better than they understood themselves, saw the cracks in their foundations and knew precisely where to apply pressure. It made you valuable. Indispensable even, but it also made people wary. The team knew what you were, even if they didn’t know the full extent of what you had been. But deep down, you knew they were smart enough to assemble the pieces.

So you kept yourself at arm’s length. You wanted to believe you could have that feeling—belonging. But wanting and trusting were two very different things that you did not dare confuse.

Kate’s eyes lit up. “That’s so cool.”

“That’s a polite way of putting it,” Stark interjected, leaning against the desk. “She’s just a pretty face we send in to distract while the rest of us do the actual work.”

There it was.

Your jaw clenched, but you didn’t rise to the bait. This was your hubris. You could already hear Natasha’s scolding—You really shouldn’t egg him on like that. The two of you are as bad as each other, always trying to get under each other's skin. A bunch of alleycats fighting it’s ridiculous—

Somewhere across the table, Bucky’s eyes had shot up. The movement startled you, and your eyes met briefly. It was milliseconds, maybe not even that, but as soon as you registered your brief exchange, Bucky shied away like a spooked animal.

And when you looked back at Kate, Natasha and Yelena, you found that Natasha had been watching the whole thing. She didn’t speak, didn’t even react. There wasn’t the slightest twitch in her brow or twinge in her lips. She stared like some kind of omnipotent god, and deep down, you knew. You knew she knew.

Maybe she didn’t know the full extent, but the way she stared… it made you shudder.

Fuck.

Kate, however, frowned, turning back to you. “That’s not true, right?”

“Of course not,” you deadpanned, not letting the dread pooling in your stomach let you miss a beat. “I do much more than look pretty. Sometimes I get to torture people—”

Kate’s face pale, then through several stages of grief, trying to figure out if you were joking.

You weren’t about to help her.

“Relax, Kate Bishop, she is messing with you,” Yelena said with an amused grin, though it was tight. A silent warning behind her eyes told you to keep your mouth shut.

Kate still looked mildly concerned, but she shook it off quickly. “Okay, but—so you can fight?”

“Of course.”

“Not as well as me,” Yelena cut in before you could elaborate, grinning smugly. “Don’t worry, Kate. You’re being trained by the best of the best. Me? I am the best. You know this.”

You rolled your eyes, and Kate beamed. That girl was too fucking cute for her own good.

The door swung open before anyone could respond to Yelena. Fury stepped inside, long coat sweeping behind him, his boots heavy against the floor. His usual expression—somewhere between perpetually pissed off and quietly judgmental—was firmly in place beneath the shadow of his eyepatch.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," Fury said, his voice edged with dry amusement, though his gaze flicked between you all with razor-sharp scrutiny.

"No, sir," Steve said, back straightening. Natasha, ever composed, merely leaned back in her chair. Stark didn’t even spare a glance.

“First off, I’d like to extend my deepest, most heartfelt gratitude for your attendance,” Fury began, spreading his arms in a broad, insincere gesture, his tone so dry it could have turned the room to dust. “I know how much of a hardship it is, taking an hour out of your busy lives to sit in a comfortable chair and listen to me talk.”

Sam snorted. Yelena smirked. Bucky, as usual, remained unreadable.

Fury’s eye landed on you and Bucky before he tossed a slim tablet onto the table, the display already flashing with the text of a mission report you hardly cared to examine in detail.

“Congratulations are in order. The gala infiltration went exceptionally well despite the odds stacked against you.”

You dipped your head in acknowledgement, catching movement out of the corner of your eye—Sam begrudgingly sliding Fury what seemed to be a twenty-dollar bill. Asshole.

Fury tapped the screen embedded in the table, replacing the mission debrief with a new set of images. An aerial view of a club, snippets of surveillance footage, a grainy close-up of a man slipping out of a side entrance, bodyguards in tow.

“And thanks to that intel recovered,” Fury continued, “we now have a location on our next target. Dmitry Karpin. Friend to H.Y.D.R.A. Dealt in smuggling high-profile weapons in and out of Soviet countries for a time, but now he’s taken to smuggling drugs. Serums, to be specific.”

Across the table, Bucky had gone still. Tension coiled in his shoulders, his hands resting stiffly on the surface, knuckles taut. H.Y.D.R.A. Serum. The words alone were enough to suffocate the room when Bucky or Steve were around. You didn’t let your eyes linger on him long nor allow your frown to deepen.

Fury didn’t acknowledge the shift—maybe he was used to it by now, or perhaps he just didn’t care. His voice remained steady, rolling over the tension in the room as if he were reciting lines from a well-rehearsed script. Karpin’s security detail. The club’s weak points. Entry and exit strategies. The words blurred together, dissolving into background noise beneath the low hum of static in your head. It was hard to focus when you could feel Bucky sitting across from you, motionless, barely even breathing, his whole body locked up like a loaded fucking gun. And the worst part? He probably thought he was doing a good job hiding it.

You didn’t stare, didn’t let your concern show. Instead, you leant back in your chair, tilting your head just enough to feign disinterest. “So, just another fun-filled evening of chatting up sweaty old men for me? Sounds like a dream.” Your voice came out dry, with just enough sarcasm to mask any wobbles.

Fury didn’t spare you a glance. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself,” he said, tapping the screen again. More grainy footage. More blueprints. The details kept coming, but you barely registered them.

You picked at your thumbnail hard enough that the cuticle began to bleed.

Eventually, the meeting drew to a close. Chairs scraped against the floor as the team rose, murmuring amongst themselves as they filed out. You stood, ready to follow, but—

“You two, stick around,” Fury instructed.

You hesitated, glancing at him, then at Bucky, who had also stalled mid-step. Natasha and Yelena exchanged a knowing look, their amusement not at all subtle. You ignored their barely concealed grins as they disappeared through the door.

Fury exhaled, hands bracing against the table as he surveyed the two of you.

“I’ll be honest,” he said finally. “I wasn’t convinced it would work when I paired you two. Thought maybe you’d kill each other before you got anything done.”

Bucky scoffed quietly, gaze flicking away.

“But you proved me wrong.” His good eye narrowed as he continued. “The mission was a success. You handled yourselves well.”

A beat of silence. Then, just as flatly, “I want to know if you’d be open to working together again. Similar style of operation.”

Your eyes slid over to Bucky, gauging his reaction. You didn’t want to appear too eager or give any more credence to the stories Yelena and Natasha were spinning, but most of all, you didn’t want to put words into Bucky’s mouth. You weren’t in the business of pressuring him in or out of the bedroom.

Bucky was quiet as if silently working through some thoughts before deciding. Finally, he offered a dismissive “Sure.”

You nodded slowly, offering Fury a nonchalant shrug. “I’m fine with that.”

Fury’s lips twitched. Not quite a smirk.

“Well, that’s the most enthusiasm I’ve heard all day,” he deadpanned before shaking his head. “Damn, you two are depressing. Sitting there all broody, staring at me like I shot your goddamn dog.”

Neither you nor Bucky reacted, which was met by a low chuckle from Fury. “Regardless, I appreciate the hard work. You made me a nice chunk of money winning some bets.”

Your brow furrowed. “You bet on us?”

Fury raised an eyebrow, unbothered. “Course I did. Had to make it interesting. Half the team thought you’d get caught or kill each other before the first day was up.”

You blinked. “...Who bet against us?”

“Stark.” Fury’s lips twitched again. “He didn’t think you’d make it past security.”

Of course he did. Prick.

—

"Alright, I’m in position."

You blinked. Bucky sat there like he was awaiting orders, his posture rigid as if he were about to breach enemy lines. His hands hovered awkwardly at his sides, fingers twitching like he wasn’t sure where to put them like touching you required the same level of strategic planning as a high-stakes extraction mission.

You stared, straddling his hips, your fingers ghosting over his collarbone, feeling the tension thrumming beneath his skin. He didn’t quite meet your eyes, his gaze fixed somewhere just past your shoulder as if making direct contact might detonate something neither of you were ready for. For a split second, you half expected him to press a finger to an earpiece and murmur something about securing the perimeter.

In the dim glow of his bedroom, he looked every bit like a man being held hostage rather than one about to receive a very generous favour.

Lately… something felt off. The signs had been subtle at first, the way he always seemed a beat too calculated, his hands found the same places every time, and he would grow still like he was waiting for a command.

And now, looking at him, so wound-up he might actually vibrate, it finally clicked.

Every touch and kiss was executed with the precision of a soldier running a drill rather than a man lost in the moment. It was methodical. He was analysing a strategy rather than experiencing pleasure. You half expected to glance down and see him taking notes—touch here, kiss there, don’t forget to do this. The thought horrified you, but if you were honest… it also amused you.

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

“…Bucky, are you seriously treating this like a mission?”

He stiffened beneath you, his reaction just a fraction too quick, too defensive.

“What’d you mean?” His voice was steady, but there was an edge. He was already on guard, bracing for imaginary discipline.

“The way you’re…” You trailed off, head inclining as you studied him. His jaw was clenched, brows drawn tight, the creased skin between them betraying him entirely. One could mistake him for a soldier behind enemy lines, waiting for the crack of a rifle. There were dark smudges under his eyes, no worse than usual. You knew he didn’t sleep well. Nightmares haunted him and left him running on fumes more often than not. You recognised the signs, and it was like you were looking into a mirror.

“It’s like you have a mental checklist,” you murmured, watching for his reaction. “Like every move you make is planned like you’re running through a strategy in your head instead of just… feeling it.”

Bucky remained silent, his lips pressing into a firm line.

Gently, you squeezed his shoulder, fingertips pressing into hard muscle. He was tense—too tense. “You’re not clearing a building, Bucky. You’re not scanning for threats. You’re here with me. Just relax a little, won’t you?”

“I am relaxed.” He bit the words out, though neither his voice nor expression were even remotely convincing.

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “I appreciate the attempt to lie, but when I can feel the fucking tension in your body, it’s a little, well, very obvious.” Your hands traced along his shoulders, fingers kneading into the tight knots beneath the fabric of his shirt. His muscles were rock-solid, never fully uncoiled. His body had forgotten how to rest.

“See?” You gave a pointed squeeze. “This is not ‘relaxed,’ Bucky. This is as solid as a goddamn steel beam.”

Bucky scoffed a tiny huff of air through his nose. “Those are my muscles. I work out. Don’t you?”

You gasped in mock delight, lips parting in exaggerated shock. “Oh my God. Did you just make a joke? Bucky, was that a joke?”

Something flickered in his expression for the first time, a sliver of amusement breaking through the ever-present brooding. He finally met your gaze, eyes crinkling just slightly at the corners, and the sight sent a flicker of warmth through your chest.

You grinned. “Well, isn’t that a first? Guess I should mark the calendar.”

His smirk was brief, fleeting—but it was there.

You softened, your voice dropping just a little. “But seriously, you need to loosen up.” Your hands smoothed over his shoulders, slow and deliberate.“Attraction, desire… sex. It’s messy, it’s unplanned. It’s not a mission. This isn’t the army.”

You didn’t dare say the following words in your mind aloud.

This isn’t H.Y.D.R.A.

But you knew that was where his thoughts drifted, that unspoken trouble that plagued you both. Your fingers ghosted along the silver chain at his throat, the faint jingle of his dog tags barely audible under the fabric of his shirt. “You don’t have to follow orders. You can just be.”

“I know.” The words came low, rough, frayed at the edges. You could feel yourself losing him, his eyes growing foggy as if pulled away to a place you couldn’t quite reach to drag him out from.

“I just…” Another breath, deeper this time, as though steadying himself. “They used me. For so long, they used me as a weapon. I don’t know if I can ever be anything different than that. I don’t want to lose control—what happens if I lose—”

“Hey.” Your hands framed his face now, thumbs brushing against the sharp angles of his cheekbones, anchoring him. “Hey, look at me.”

His eyes lifted, hesitant, guarded.

“You are more than that.” The words were gentle but unwavering, as steady as your hands on him. “We are more than that, okay? You’re Bucky. Just Bucky. And you are in control. Say it.”

His fingers curled against your thighs, knuckles pressing into the cotton fabric of your shorts. He was quiet momentarily as though testing the words in his mind before speaking them aloud. Then, slowly, he nodded.

“I’m in control.”

“You’re in control.” You echoed, smoothing your thumb over the faint stubble on his cheek. “And you still want to do this?”

His breath was slow, deliberate. “Yes.”

Your fingers had drifted higher, threading into his hair, the strands silky and cool beneath your touch. You swept a loose lock from his forehead, letting your fingertips linger against his temple. “And if you don’t want this at any point, what do you say?”

“Stop.”

“And what will happen if you say that?”

“You’ll stop. We’ll stop.”

“Good.” You praised him, your smile widening as you felt him squirm beneath you. There was a subtle hitch in his breath as your hands began to trail lower, palms smoothing down to his chest. The pulse at his throat fluttered beneath your fingertips, quick and uneven, betraying the calm he was trying to hold onto. You leant closer, your breath warm against his skin as you pressed a slow, lingering kiss to his temple. Then lower—to the sharp line of his cheekbone, the edge of his jaw, and finally to the hollow of his throat. A shudder ran through him, his grip on your hips tightening just a fraction. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.” He uttered after a thick, audible swallow.

You pulled back just enough to study him, to see how his lips parted slightly as though chasing the warmth of your touch. A quiet, almost reluctant noise rumbled in his chest, just shy of a whine. You traced your fingers along his jaw before tilting your head, considering him. “I want to try something.” You hummed to him. “You can say no if it’s too much, but I think it might help you.”

His brows furrowed. “Yeah?”

“I want to blindfold you—”

“You want to what?” He went rigid beneath you, every muscle tightening again as if you’d flipped a switch and snapped him back into defence mode.

“Hold on, just let me finish.” You held up your hand, hoping to counteract his immediate, instinctive reaction.

He huffed, rolling his shoulders as though shaking off the response, but said nothing.

“I want to blindfold you,” you repeated, slower this time, words deliberate. “And I want to kiss you. And touch you. I want you to focus on feeling good rather than anticipating something bad. I want you to just… be here with me. Not thinking about what comes next, not waiting for an attack. Just focusing on feeling. That’s all.”

His expression was cautious before turning to contemplation—as though weighing the idea against everything instinct told him.

“You can say no,” you reminded him gently.

“No, I—” He hesitated, his fingers twitching against your hips.

You shifted back just a little, offering him the space to decide. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do it.”

“No, I—shit—” He exhaled, shaking his head. “I mean—no, I want to. Yes. I want to try that.”

Your gaze searched his. “You’re sure?”

His lips pressed together, and then he nodded once, firmly. “Yes.”

You grinned, pressing a sloppy, lingering kiss to his temple before slipping off his lap with ease and rolling onto the bed beside him. “Do you have something we could use?”

“Uh, I don’t—”

“Like a tie, maybe? You wear suits, right? Or does Stark demand them back the second you step foot in the compound?”

Bucky let out a huff, eyes narrowing. “I don’t want to talk about Stark right now.”

You shot him a knowing look, but before you could tease him further, your gaze flickered downward—and you smirked. Even through the soft material of his sweatpants, you could see he was already half-hard. “Sure.”

A faint flush crept up his neck, staining his ears and cheeks pink. He cleared his throat, voice rough. “Top drawer. In the wardrobe.”

You were on your feet before he could finish, slipping into his walk-in wardrobe. Every apartment in the compound had one, though Bucky’s was noticeably bare. His clothes were monochrome, muted shades of grey, navy, and black. No bursts of colour. No sign of impulse. It was not a lack of wealth. You knew that for sure. No, this was intentional—a desire to blend in, to disappear.

You’d always known he was the type who preferred the shadows, slipping between crowds unnoticed. No wonder he hated the tailored suits Stark and Fury forced him into—arm issues aside. For some reason, S.H.I.E.L.D. were determined to parade him around. Look, the Winter Soldier. He’s a good boy now. He plays nice. Nothing to fear anymore. You were unsure how he felt about such displays, but you were sure it wasn’t too far off from how you felt about it. You had once been in his shoes, though more in the eye candy territory. A doll to dress up and play with, to smile and play the part.

Powerful men enjoyed degrading that which they knew to be dangerous, enjoyed playing with fire, and enjoyed the illusion of control.

Shaking off the thought, you pulled open the top drawer, sifting through a few neatly folded ties. You selected a smooth black silk, running the cool fabric over your palm before returning to the bedroom.

Bucky was still seated at the edge of the bed, stiff as a board. His hands curled into fists atop his thighs, knuckles taut. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

You slowed, holding the tie between your fingers like approaching a spooked animal. Visible to inspect and assess. No threat.

“Yes?” you asked, giving him another chance to change his mind.

His jaw tightened, but he gave a short nod. “Yes.”

You smiled softly. “Just breathe, yeah? Like we always do.” You inhaled deeply through your nose, then exhaled slowly and steadily through your mouth.

After a beat, Bucky mirrored you, chest rising and falling with measured breaths.

You moved behind him, settling onto the bed. He sat still, poised for an attack. Carefully, you draped the silk tie over his eyes, looping it around his head and securing it with a loose knot. It wasn’t tight—one purposeful tug and it would slip free.

You could feel the tension radiating from him. Even blindfolded, he was hyper-aware, attuned to every rustle of the sheets, every shift of your weight. His breathing had turned shallower, the serum sharpening every sound, every sensation.

“If you need to stop for any reason, just say so.”

He jolted slightly at your voice, caught off guard in the quiet. “O-okay.” His voice wavered, and then he cursed low under his breath in Russian.

You grinned. Some habits died hard.

“I’m going to touch you now.” You crept closer, lifting onto your knees behind him. “Just focus on me and how it feels. Nothing else. Can you do that?”

He gave a slow, hesitant nod.

You started at his shoulders, palms skimming over firm muscle, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. Every dip and ridge, every knot of tension. Your hands slid to his collarbone, then across the joint where flesh met metal, mapping out the contrast between warm skin and the smooth, cold vibranium.

He was solid beneath your touch, every muscle taut and solid as it stretched across the bone.

You had noticed the way his shoulders gave him grief. The slight tilt of his frame and the way his left arm always sat heavier. It was incorrect weight distribution; the metal limb was too heavy compared to its flesh counterpart. S.H.I.E.L.D had surely offered him physical therapy—massages, treatment plans—but you doubted he had ever taken them up on it. He didn’t like to be touched by strangers. Too wary. Too untrusting.

“Can I take off your shirt?” you asked softly.

He stilled.

“I don’t—” His voice was lower now, rougher. “My scars. They’re not—”

“I don’t care about that.”

He swallowed hard. “You don’t?”

“No,” you said firmly. “Why would I?”

Without a word, his hand reached behind his head, gripping the collar of his shirt. He yanked it over his head in one fluid motion, tossing the fabric to the floor. You adjusted the blindfold where it had shifted, then let your gaze drift over the broad expanse of his back.

His shoulders were massive, sculpted with muscle. The scars on his left shoulder were brutal—jagged lines of gnarled tissue where the vibranium met flesh. It might have been seamless after the amputation. Painless even. But it had been H.Y.D.R.A who had ruined him, left scars so deep even the Wakandans couldn’t erase.

And H.Y.D.R.A didn’t care for comfort. They cared for necessity. Likely, you suspected, they had wanted him to suffer.

An endless reminder of their ownership.

You swallowed, then placed your hands on his shoulders again, thumbs pressing gently into the base of his neck. You started slow, careful, massaging along the muscle, working your way down. His skin was warm beneath your palms, the mass taut and unyielding at first, like stone beneath your fingers. But you took your time, applying gradual pressure, thumbs circling into the knots built over time.

Beneath your hands, Bucky let out a low, guttural sound—a half-growl, half-sigh of approval. His head dipped forward slightly, chin brushing his chest, an unspoken invitation to continue.

You kept going, kneading deep into the knots in his shoulders, feeling the tension resist before you coaxed it loose. With each press and roll of your fingers, the stiffness unravelled like a cord being undone, thread by thread. You worked methodically, digging your thumbs along the curve where his neck met his shoulders, pressing firmly enough to elicit another low, unconscious groan from him.

You bit back a smile as you felt him lean into you just a little.

Trailing downward, you traced the slope of his shoulder blades, following the ridges of tendons and old wounds. The scars on his left side were tougher, the tissue uneven where flesh met metal, but you didn’t hesitate. Your fingers brushed the seam between the vibranium and skin, then continued downward, thumbs pressing slow, firm circles along the fuse.

Bucky shuddered.

His breath hitched as you dug into the deep-seated strain along his spine. A sharp inhale, a low exhale—he was losing himself to the sensation, surrendering to your touch. You didn’t rush. You worked him slowly, thoroughly, feeling him yield with each measured stroke. When you reached the dip of his lower back, you flattened your hands, smoothing over the tightness that lingered. He was warm now, his skin melting like wax beneath your fingers.

Satisfied, you finally pulled back, smoothing your hands along his spine one last time before shifting your position.

Rising onto your knees, you moved around him, hands trailing over his shoulders as you slid into his lap. His breath stuttered, but he didn’t pull away. You settled against him, straddling his lap, your arms draping lazily over his shoulders. The blindfold was still secure, and he looked… calmer now. Less wound up, his jaw no longer locked so tightly.

“You okay?” You murmured.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Yeah.”

“Good,” you hummed, tilting your head, lips just inches from his ear. “I think you needed that.”

Bucky exhaled a breathy, almost disbelieving laugh, but he didn’t deny it.

Your fingers trailed up the nape of his neck, nails scratching lightly against the short hairs, and you felt him shiver beneath you. You leaned in, lips brushing over his cheekbone, just at the edge of the blindfold, before trailing downward. You kissed along his jaw, soft and teasing, pressing your lips into the warm skin beneath his ear, down the column of his throat.

His hands fidgeted at his sides, tightening around the sheets. Then, as if giving in to some internal battle, they rose—hesitant but desperate. His fingers found your waist, sliding over the curve of your hips before gripping tight.

You grinned against his skin.

“There you go,” you murmured, voice a breath of silk against his throat.

A sharp exhale left him, his fingers tightening, pressing you closer, holding you in place. You cupped his jaw, tilting his face up before pressing your lips to his.

Bucky groaned into the kiss.

It was soft at first, your mouth moving against his, teasing, coaxing him deeper. But it wasn’t long before he cracked. The tension he had held onto for so long—his control, his restraint—it frayed at the edges with every pass of your lips against his. You pressed closer, shifting in his lap, and the moment your hips rolled against him, his breath stuttered.

A broken sound escaped him, part groan, part whimper.

You did it again just to hear it.

His hands flexed against your sides, his hold firm, frantic, but he didn’t stop you. He only breathed harder, his forehead falling against yours as you peppered kisses along his lips, his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

Then you moved again, grinding against him slowly, carefully, and Bucky outright whimpered.

He made no effort to stop you—no attempt to control the rhythm, no resistance left in him. His mind was no longer caught in the tangle of right and wrong, of what he should or shouldn’t do.

He only felt.

Only responded.

You kissed him again, deeper, fiercer this time, and he met you with equal hunger.

Bucky’s hands roamed, sliding up your back. Then, his vibranium hand found your face, cradling it between cool, unyielding metal, and you shivered at the contrast—the bite of cold against your flushed skin, the sheer strength in his hold, barely restrained.

He kissed you like he was starving.

You sighed into his mouth, rolling your hips down to meet his, and he groaned—deep and guttural as his body jerked beneath you. He was fully hard now, the evidence pressing against you through his sweatpants, and you couldn't help the soft, breathy giggle that escaped between kisses.

Bucky growled, his grip tightening, his body chasing yours as you rocked against him.

Your hand trailed down, slipping between your bodies, fingers teasing along the waistband of his sweatpants. You could feel the heat of him, the way his breath hitched as your fingertips ghosted lower—

Then he flinched, catching your wrist in a shaky grip.

“Too much,” he muttered, voice barely above a whisper, but the strain was evident.

Immediately, you withdrew, pulling your hand away without hesitation. “I’m sorry. Do you want to stop—”

“No.” he replied quickly, breathlessly.

You cupped his jaw, kissing him slowly, tenderly, as he shuddered beneath you. His hands flexed where they held you, his body still trembling with need, but he didn’t pull away. You kept your movements soft and gentle, pressing your forehead against his, letting him breathe as you kissed him repeatedly.

“Is this better?” you checked in between kisses, voice warm, reassuring.

“Yes.” He muttered against your lips.

You kissed him deeper, tongue sweeping across his bottom lip and into his mouth.

His body convulsed beneath you, hips twitching up to meet yours, his breath turning shallow and erratic. You could feel the tremors coursing through him, his muscles tensed, his restraint crumbling with every slow, dragging roll of your hips.

Then, with a choked groan, he stiffened.

A broken moan tore from his throat as he came, his body shuddering beneath you. His breath hitched, then stilled, his head falling back onto the bed as he panted heavily, completely spent.

You smiled, watching his chest rise and fall, his body finally wholly relaxed.

You let him catch his breath, your hands smoothing over his chest in slow, soothing strokes. His eyes were still covered, the black silk of the tie snug against his skin, and for a moment, you just watched him—his expression relaxed in a way it so rarely was, his lips parted as he inhaled deep, steadying himself.

Reaching up, you brushed your fingers over his jaw before carefully undoing the knot at the back of his head. The tie slipped away with ease, and his eyes fluttered open, blinking as he adjusted to the room's dim light. His pupils were blown, irises hazy, but there was something else. Softness. An openness you didn’t often see.

“Hey,” you whispered.

His lips twitched in the ghost of a smile. “Hey.”

You leant down, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple before shifting off of him, allowing him to breathe. He hesitated momentarily before sitting up, his movements slow, almost reluctant. His sweatpants were clinging damply to his skin, and he grimaced slightly before rubbing a hand over his face.

“I should, uh—” He cleared his throat. “I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, watching as he climbed off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. The soft sound of running water followed soon after. You stayed where you were, fingers idly playing with the silk tie as you listened, giving him the space to clean up and gather himself.

When he returned, his sweatpants had been swapped for a fresh pair, the fabric hanging loose around his hips. His hair was damp in uneven patches where he’d raked wet fingers through it, a lazy attempt at tidying up. He lingered in the doorway, weight shifting from one foot to the other, eyes flickering over you like he wasn’t sure what to do next.

You patted the empty space beside you. “Come here.”

His shoulders loosened just a fraction before he climbed back onto the bed, settling beside you with a quiet sigh. He was warm—solid and steady. Without thinking, you nestled closer, resting your head against his chest. His arm came around you automatically, like muscle memory, pulling you in and holding you there.

For a while, neither of you spoke.

Then, barely above a whisper, you asked, “Did you like it?”

Bucky exhaled a deep, slow breath. “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice lower than usual, like he wasn’t used to saying it. “I did.”

You smiled, tracing absentminded circles against his chest. “What did you like about it?”

He was quiet for a long moment, his fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. When he finally spoke, his voice was careful.

“It made it easier,” he murmured. “Not seeing. I could just… feel. Focus on what was happening instead of everything else.” His thumb brushed lightly against your side. “Didn’t have to worry about if I was doing something wrong.”

You frowned slightly, tilting your head up to look at him. “Bucky, you’ve never done anything wrong.”

“I know,” he said, but his voice was tight, a shadow crossing his expression. “It’s just—” He stopped, mouth pressing into a thin line.

You reached up, smoothing a hand over his cheek. “Talk to me.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. Then, so quietly you almost missed it, he said, “I’m scared of it sometimes.”

Your brows furrowed. “Scared of what?”

“Pleasure.”

His fingers tightened slightly against your side like he was bracing himself, but he didn’t look away from you.

“I was taught…” He inhaled sharply. “That it could only be taken. Taken from me. That it was never given freely.” His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. “That it wasn’t mine to have.”

Slowly, carefully, you sat up, shifting so you were fully facing him. He looked at you, expression guarded, but there was something vulnerable beneath it, something fragile in the way he held himself.

You reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. “Those people, the ones who taught you that, they were trying to hurt you, degrade you,” you told him firmly. “Pleasure is to be shared equally. It’s something you deserve.” You squeezed his hand, your voice softening.

His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but no words came.

“I want you to know that you don’t have to do anything to earn it,” you whispered.

He swallowed hard, his grip on your hand tightening. His voice was barely above a breath when he said, “I don’t know if I know how.”

You smiled softly. “That’s okay. We have time.”

You lifted his hand again, pressing a lingering kiss to his knuckles before settling back down beside him. His warmth seeped into you, but the ache in your chest remained—persistent, lingering. It had nothing to do with exhaustion, the tension in your muscles, or even the way your body still hummed with remnants of touch. No, this ache came from somewhere deeper, from the thoughts unravelling in your mind like a loose thread tugged too far, too fast as you contemplated his confession.

You had always been a giver. That was your role, your purpose. You gave and gave until there was nothing left. Until you were hollow inside. And yet, the world kept asking for more. You wondered if, over time, it had chipped away at your soul, piece by piece, until there was nothing left.

The words left your lips before you could stop them, before you had the chance to weigh whether you truly wanted to say them aloud.

“Do you ever feel like you’re not… whole?”

Bucky turned his head slightly, his brows furrowing in the low light, lids heavy as he blinked his dark lashes. He didn’t press or demand, didn’t look at you as if he needed clarification. He just waited, silently, like he knew you weren’t finished.

So you kept going.

“Like with every mission, every fight, every demand, you lose something? A tiny piece of yourself, given away without even realising it?” Your voice dropped lower. Bucky was still beside you, completely still, only his breath tickling your cheek with each slow rise and fall of his chest.

“I don’t even know if I’m still the person I was when I was born or if I’ve just been rebuilt from borrowed parts. Pieces given to me, made for me, shaped to fit what I was supposed to become.” You exhaled a sharp breath. “Or maybe… what they wanted me to become.”

The words were bitter on your tongue, and yet they kept coming.

“And I think… maybe I’m afraid that if I ever showed the real me, the world would reject me. That they’d be disgusted by my soul. By everything I have done.”

A shaky breath left your lips, your voice barely more than a whisper now.

“Because sometimes… sometimes I think the only way people will keep me around is if I give them something in return.”

Silence.

You turned your head toward him, searching his face, waiting for something—anything—that would tell you what he was thinking. You hoped for a look, a breath, a word to ground you. But as your gaze swept over him, you realised his breathing had evened out, his lashes fluttering softly against his cheeks. The sharp furrow of his brow had smoothed, his lips slightly parted in a way that spoke of exhaustion finally pulling him under.

Asleep.

Your words had been lost to him.

You weren’t sure if that was a relief or a disappointment.

Maybe it was for the best. He needed the rest, the peace of slumber more than you did. Even now, in the soft glow of the room, dark circles remained etched beneath his eyes.

You let out a slow breath, staring at the ceiling momentarily before carefully slipping out of bed. You moved with quiet precision, gathering your things without making a sound. When you reached the door, you hesitated, glancing back.

For a second, a small, selfish part of you wished he had—wished he had heard you, had held you, had given you something, anything, to quiet the storm inside your chest. But he hadn’t.

And maybe that meant you could take the words back.

Tuck them away for another time.

Or hold onto them forever, maybe all you had needed was to say them aloud, even if only silence itself was listening.

Bucky didn’t stir from his slumber, not even when the door clicked shut behind you.

---

taglist: @civilbucky @buckysbbydoll @rosegarbage @fleurenoir @oikarma @blackstabbath6 @kcbug1128 @ellesbellswrites @thaynarajejheje @wunder-blunder @oceanaroma @dyscalculiaaa @murdocklvrr @pursuedbyamemoryy @fantasyheroine @chronicallybubbly @nikkinss @maryevm @doilooklikeagiveafrack (sorry if it didn't tag anyone properly)

#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky fanfic #beefy bucky #bucky smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #winter soldier #marvel fic #marvel au #marvel #lessons in lovemaking

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luludeluluramblings · 14 hours ago

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SugarBaby!Neglected!BatSib!Reader x Tony Stark - Part Two

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I started this while inspired by Pregnant!Reader. But, it’s just fluff and possible comfort. I had the dialogue written for the past few months, but just got around to finishing it. I’m worried I’m both rusty and still amateurish. 🙃 Sorry if this ain’t what y’all had in mind!

Previous Reader x Tony Stark

Warnings: Fluffy, wholesome, unplanned pregnancy, GN!Reader (or at least attempted), bedroom activities mentioned.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You had taken multiple test. Multiple. Gone to at least two private doctors. You even had Jarvis do a full body scan before telling him not to tell Tony.

You needed to be the one to do it.

So in proper fashion, you decided to tell him as soon as possible. Before anything else blew up or there was some Alien robot monkey attack.

It just happened to be on movie night.

“Tony, love. My dearest husband.” You start as you walk into you fancy penthouse kitchen, holding the box filled with multiple test in your arms since you know the man will need all the proof he can get his hands on.

“Oh no, I don’t like that tone. That is not good not good tone at all. Nope. I don’t want to hear any bad news on Star Wars night.” Already he can catch on that something is up as he personally mixes a few drinks for you both while reading some research articles for one of his projects like multitasker he is.

“It might be good news.” You sheepishly say as you set the box on the counter and move to wrap your arms around his waist.

“Not with that tone.” He snorts out as he starts to make your favorite drink, only for you to lightly touch his arm to stop him.

“Alright, it’s just news.” You murmur into his back, a bit more serious.

Tony can feel the shift happening. Picking up on one of the social cues that something was going on. He put down the bottles and turned off his glasses, setting them on the counter.

“It’s bothering you isn’t it?” He asked, catching on as he spun in your arms and wrapped his own arms around you.

“Yep.” You look up at him, resting your chin against his chest and taking a moment to breathe him in.

“Is it good news?”

“Just… brace yourself.” You give him a pleading look, trying to think of the best way to say it.

“Oh boy.” He gives a playful wince as he tries to alleviate the tension he feels under your shoulder blades.

“So, the barebacking kinda bit us in the ass.” Probably wasn’t the best way to say it, but you thought he would get it.

“What?”

Apparently you were wrong. Modern lingo was a flop.

“The barebacking kinda bit us in the —“ You try again, awkwardly.

“No. I mean, sweetheart, you’re gonna have to explain—“ Confusion and playful annoyance washing over him. You always liked to use modern slang and memes on him to be funny. But, it wasn’t translating well until you finally blurted it out.

“I’m pregnant.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, shit! Are you sure it’s mine?” Was the first thing he blurts out as it sinks into him.

“Tony!” You admonished him, giving him a glare as you looked up at him.

“Sorry, habit! Sorry! Just… What do you want to do about it?“ He pulls away, and it stings. But, you know he’s just trying to cope with the information.

“I— I don’t know… What do you want to do about it?” You echo the same sentiments, just as lost as him in that moment.

“I— I’m not good with babies, or toddlers, or kids, or pre-teens — Hell, I’m not good with people in general.” Hearing him say that makes you soften. You knew his insecurities. You shared some of them yourself. And, seeing him like this made something in you shift from uncertainty to acceptance.

“Tony…” You tried to get his attention, but he continued to spiral like a falling plane.

“And- And, I have daddy issues, with minor mommy issues. On top of all other sorts of issues.” Mayday. Mayday.

“Tony.” You try to be a bit firmer.

“I overwork. I’m an ass— you said that just last night too.” You almost want to laugh at how animated he’s being. Pacing back and forth, using his fingers to count out each and every little or large reason.

“Tony.” However, you do find yourself growing exasperated at his spiraling.

“Hang on, I’m trying to make a point here. Anyway, I’d be a—“

“Good dad.” You interrupt. Saying it all confident and nonchalant. Like he did the day he said he loved you.

You can tell it stuns him. Which is rare. It only last for a second before he starts to try to spiral again.

“Babe—“

“No. I’m serious. You’d be a good one.” You verbally take the helm. Something you rarely did in your relationship.

“Just because you call me daddy in bed— Actually that might have tempted fate here. Do you think Thor or one his divine buddies had something to do with this?” Humor. His favorite way of coping. But, it’s a decent sign. It means he is actually processing this. So you add your own comment.

“Pretty sure it was you busting a nut in—“

“Hey, knock it off or we’ll end up defiling the counters again.”

You do laugh at that. It’s how you both have learned to ease into things. The hard topics are easier to digest with a bit of laughter and time.

“Tony.” His name is softer as you reach for him.

“Sweetheart.” He almost teasingly says, but his voice it a little raw. However, he doesn’t pull away. A good sign. A great sign.

But, you know it’s not all over yet. There’s still more to say and Tony is as jumpy as a jack rabbit when it comes to his feelings.

“Tony, you’d be a great dad.” You whisper gently.

It’s easy to tell it’s gotten through by he goes completely still. You can barely even see him breathe. Another one of his tells you’ve learned since loving him.

“How do you know?” He asks. His voice doesn’t break. But, it’s fractured. There’s cracks in it, but it doesn’t fall apart.

“Because you would actually try.” You start to say. Tony rarely accepted praise despite his ego. So you had a limited opportunity to work with this and only your relationship to back it up.

“We both a millions of issues between the two of us. Hell, we could probably be a case study for a couple of psychologists. But, I want to give a part of you and a part of me something we didn’t have.”

And, that’s the conclusion you’ve come to when remembering your time in the manor. Growing up never being good enough for Bruce. Watching your father pick everyone in a city you didn’t know over you again and again. Watching your siblings do the same. How they had their exclusive club that you were never allowed yo be apart of.

A feeling of inadequacy that you developed even after you told yourself over and over again that it was fine.

You felt your resolve start to form. As if all those childish things that weighed you down were insignificant in making this decision.

“I’m not going to do this without you though. If you want to do this I’m all for it. If don’t think you can I’m still going to love you, regardless.” Even if you felt yourself come around to it, you knew it would take time for Tony too.

He wasn’t going to leave you. You knew that. You had learned that. Maybe from the way he had firmly told you that you were stuck with him forever and he’d crawl back to you no matter what.

You’re pretty sure he had been quoting a movie or something because you had laughed at how ridiculous he sounded. But, that look in his eyes made you realize he was completely serious about what he meant.

A long moment of silence washes over you. You can tell he’s uncomfortable by it even though you aren’t. You don’t rush him though. Giving him the chance to crack another joke and move on like nothing happened. Or, to find the words he wants to say.

“I think… I want to do this. I don’t know. You’re giving me those mushy feelings again. The ones that make me want to cry.” A smile breaks out on your face as you rest your chin on his chest to look up at him.

It’s not a no. It’s not a yes. Hell, it’s not even a maybe. It’s just an idea. But, Tony is great with ideas. You’ll probably have to deal with him locking himself in his workshop for a week. However, you’ll be waiting outside for him ready to hear anything has to say.

“Want to bone me against the window and possibly cause a small public scandal, then ignore the PR team while we watch Star Wars? You know, to help cope with the mushy feelings?” You offer with a wiggle of your eyebrows and a mischievous grin. One that earns you a relieved smile and a kiss in return.

“God, I love you.” Is all he says before he takes you up on that exact offer. The kisses growing more heated as a trail of clothes begins to form towards the window of the penthouse.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I didn’t expect people to like my previous Tony work at all. It was just a brain worm that I pulled out and splattered on my keyboard. So, I applied the same method here, but with a bit more finesse. I think.

A/N: This is basically a prequel. Before the Batfam finds out and goes Yandere for SugarBaby!Reader.

#luluramblings #sugar baby!reader #yandere batfam #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #yandere batfamily #yandere dc #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark #pregnant!reader

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ang3ltine · 1 day ago

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"𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫" - Sergeant Bucky Barnes x Nurse freader 18+

You and Bucky are invited to a boat party to celebrate his successful mission in Moscow. But you both arrive late due to minor setbacks.

a.n - Bucky has a surprise for you and all the soldiers are in on it. Steve doesn't appear until later on (don't worry it's a wholsome ending!

warnings - hickeys, smut, dirty talk, fingering,Playful dom! Bucky and Sub!freader

The deep resonant blast of a horn could be heard as the military warship for the 107th creaks to a halt.

After a week long mission overseas, they were finally home. As the bridge is pulled out and the soldiers stepped down to meet their loved ones.

You spot a familiar hat amongst the sea of soldiers at the top of the bridge.

Bucky had returned as a hero, so it's no surprise when you spot him with a bunch of cheering soldiers surrounding him. You felt your heart racing as you weave your way through everyone to make it towards the bridge.

"Bucky! Over here!!" You yell and wave your hands up frantically in order to get his attention.

Upon hearing his name, he looks up to see you making your way out of the crowd and towards the bottom of the bridge.

Without a second thought, he excuses himself before practically sprinting down the bridge as you wait for him with outstretched arms.

You almost fall back from the impact as Bucky runs into your embrace. He lifts you off the ground with ease while he buries his face into the crook of your neck. Hearing his steady heartbeat reminded you that he was still alive and had not returned in a casket.

Cheers erupt all around you and behind Bucky as the soldiers surround you both. He peers up at you through wet lashes while you fix his hat and look down at him with loving eyes.

"Thank God you're alive."

"Only because I had you to come home to doll. That's what got me through this war." He whispers as you two press your foreheads together.

You see all the scars and scratches that were carved into his skin due to shrapnel. But you ignore his flaws because he is still your handsome soldier.

Bucky feels your lips all over his face as you press kisses on all his scars.

"Doll stop-- It tickles!!"

He laughs softly at the feeling and knows for sure that there's probably faint lipstick stains left over. Nonetheless, he happily accepts your kisses.

Bucky was heartbroken you couldn't join him on his mission to Moscow. Colonel Philips believed that you should take a break for a while before joining them again.

Speaking of the Colonel.

"Are you two done?" A gruff voice interrupts you both while Bucky sets you back onto the ground.

"Colonel Phillips, we were just uhh...catching up," Bucky answers while giving him a salute and a tight-lipped smile. You cover your mouth to hide your smile with one hand as Philips spots the lipstick marks on Buckys face.

Philips grunts in agreement before turning to you.

"Mr Barnes here thinks that just because he's a war hero now. He gets to skip morning drills and muck around."

Bucky shifts on his feet awkwardly and avoids making eye contact with you while you turn to him to give him a tired look.

"Bucky we talked about this--""I know, I know. It won't happen again."

"It better not." Colonel Philips mumbles under his breath and gives you a curt nod before leaving.

"Come on, soldier boy, let's get you home." You sighed while Bucky links your arm with his with a smug smile.

An invitation got to sent to you in the mail a few days later to celebrate the successful mission.

Bucky was staying over at your rented apartment in London.You had family who lived there so they helped you out.

After failing to convince the Colonel multiple times he finally gave in and let him go.

The party was going to start in less than two hours so you let Bucky rest for a little longer while you got ready.

You picked out a short sleeve off shoulder ivory dress with a layered skirt paired with silk bow heels. Despite it being a casual event.

"Hm? Why're you getting dolled up so early in the morning?" a pair of arms hugged your waist, the voice hoarse from sleeping. Bucky rests his chin atop your shoulder. He had messy bedhair that fell over his eyes as he watched you intently while you applied the final step to your makeup."We have the party to attend to remember?" you say gently while you turn around to fix his hair.

"You should go and get ready too." Bucky grumbled a small 'ok' after taking the suit from your hands and walking into the washroom to change.

"Shit--!!"

Bucky had accidentally cut himself on the cheek while shaving when you rush in to see what had happened.You sighed before reaching into the cabinet infront of him to pulls out the first aid bag.

"Honey, you should be more careful," you murmured while Bucky faces you as you reach up to the wipe the cut before placing a small bandage over it.

He mumbles a small 'sorry'. He looked like a kicked puppy which made you feel bad for him.

You gave him a chaste kiss before pulling away, your hand still resting on his cheek.

"It's ok Bucky, I know it was just an accident."

The space in the washroom was a little tight, so your back was almost hitting the wall behind you. Now that Bucky was fully awake, he took a better look at you and your outfit.

You looked gorgeous.

Bucky gave that mischievous smile of his which prompted you to move away. But it was too late, he quickly grabs you before you had the chance to run out.

"Where'd you think you're goin'?"

He then pulls you towards him by your hips and starts to tickle your sides relentlessly.

"God stop Bucky, s'too much --" you giggled as he continued his antics.

"Nuh uh, I ain't stopping until you give me a kiss!" He laughs and then proceeds to pepper your face with kisses. The feeling of his light stubble tickled your skin as you writhed under his touch.

Eventually, he stops and places one big kiss on your lips. The stain from your lipstick transfers onto his lips while you try to hold in your laugh.

"You're silly you know that right?" You breathe out as you try to wipe the lipstick of his lips with your thumb.

"Mmh yeah I know. But I only act silly for you." Bucky murmured while giving you heartwarming look and a lopsided grin.

Sometimes you forget how cute he can get when he wants attention from you.

His hands reached down towards your cheeks and gently caressed them with his thumb. He was impossibly close now as his nose nuzzles against yours.

"Bucky, we have a party to attend -" your breath hitches at his close proximity.

"C'mon doll, just one kiss?" his words were slurred with a heavy accent. He swipes the bottom of your lip with his thumb.

Bucky leans in again, lightly grazing your lips with his as your breath hitches. He glances into your eyes, silently asking for your permission.

"Damn in Bucky..." you breathe out before finally giving in. You press his lips against his in a steady motion while fingers entangle into his hair and tug at it gently, pulling out a low groan from Bucky.

The kiss was sweet and gentle at first before Bucky deepens it. You know for sure that your lipstick was no ruined which kind of annoyed you. But the way Bucky had his hands all over you caused your thoughts to be clouded with lust.

He had already reached for the back of your dress,undoing the neatly tied bow. You swiftly caught hold of his hand before he could fully take it off.

"Bucky we can't be doing this right now. What about -" , Bucky shuts you up by locking his lips with yours. Nibbling on your bottom lip, making you whine. His hand carefully hikes the hem of the skirt up, revealing your dainty cotton underwear.

"Oh? What do we have here..?" he drawls as his slender fingers crept over your throbbing cunt. Your cheeks darkened at the sultry question. He knew exactly how to get you riled up.

You're not sure when it happened, but you only grew more wet just by his painfully hot touch.

He moves from your lips down towards your jaw, just barely ghosting over the skin.

He parted his lips slightly, revealing a glimpse of anticipation before he dipped his head. Warm lips pressing a tender, lingering kiss to your jawline.

You let out a string of moans as he rubs into your hip with his fist and skillfully undresses you with the other unoccupied hand.

He slips his hand past your underwear and teasingly ghosts the hole of your cunt, making you shiver with anticipation. Deep down, you want this. You wanted him.

It had been a while since he's had you like this, so you had a lot of pent-up sexual tension. And you're sure he felt the same. Bucky smirked as he noticed your facial expression contour into pleasure and finally stuck his index finger inside. Deep enough for an audible squelch to echo in the washroom.

"Does it really feel that good?" he snickers while you roll your eyes at her comment. You grab the hem of his shirt and pull him into a seering hot kiss. You couldn't let him have all the fun.

Tugging at the ends you asked for permission to take it off. He tuts and guides your hand towards the nape of his neck.

"You're the one who said we can't be late. Besides, I'm the one treating you today." You knew he was referring to your job as a nurse when you usually take care of him. It somewhat warms your heart at the kind consideration.

Half an hour into the session, he has you sprawled out on your bed as he continued to finger fuck you after eating you out. He still had your arousal on his mouth as his lips melts into yours. You whimper against his lip as you could taste yourself on his tongue.

All while, he innocently whispers sweet nothings against your now swollen lips. Already becoming exhausted from the constant thrusting from Buckys slender fingers.

"You're doin' so well f'me love", he whispers sweetly. A stark contrast to his actions as you didn't have time to react while he pulls out tantalisingly slow and eagerly shoves it back in.

You cover your mouth against your hand to muffle your moans as he continues hitting at your g-spot. Your pelvis unkowngly bucks into his hand, wanting more than you could take.

Bucky's nuzzles into the crook of your neck, leaving a series of dark hickeys all over down your bare chest. Your nipples perked as he had one mound in his mouth and the other between his unoccupied fingers.

Your dress was still on. He had only just slipped off the sleeves and taken off your bra.

Not to mention It was hard to keep yourself sane when Bucky looked so irresistible himself. Bucky takes in your appearance while he slows down the pace, letting you breathe.

You looked so effortlessly pretty.

Your cheeks were rosy and wet from your tears.The curls of your hair unravelled and cascaded down your shoulders and your perfect pink lips, swollen and slightly bleeding. "Bucky I'm so close--!"

He had you fucking on his fingers for so long you couldn't even check the time on the clock, your vision blurred from your tears.

At last you finally burst, unleashing a wave of pleasure across your body.

Helping you ride through your orgasm until the only thing heard in the room was lewd , wet noises coming from your sopping cunt.

You both were panting, one more than the other.

His tie was now loose along with the first few buttons of his shirt. The jacket that he paired with it was thrown somewhere on the floor in the room and his combed back hair now messy.

Bucky leans into your touch when you reach up with one hand to caress his cheek.

"Bucky, how are you so pretty?" You whispered in a gentle tone.

"Thank you, doll, but I should be the one telling you that." He replies while pressing a gentle kiss into the palm of your hand. You sighed in content as he picks you up bridal style and walks back towards the washroom.

"Now let's both take a bath together. How does that sound, hm?"

Meanwhile back at the party, Steve and Peggy wait for you both impatiently. It had been almost an hour since the party had started and there was still no sign of you or Bucky.

"Look here they come now," Peggy let's out a frustrated sigh. Steve almost let's out a laugh when he spots his friends practically run towards them on the deck.

"Hey! Sorry we're late!" Bucky yells as he stops infront of the couple.

You hug them both and apologise to Peggy for being late. She compliments your dress and you two carry on your conversation from there.

He had a feeling he knew the reason why you guys were so late but he decided to keep his mouth shut. You had your neck covered with your jacket collar so that was probably a dead giveaway.

The place was lit with fairly lights and makeshift decorations made by the soldiers. Everyone had come to greet you both and things kicked off from there.

But there was something wrong with Bucky as he seemed pretty nervous and jittery around you. You brushed it off as him being himself but you had no idea what was in store for you later that very moment.

As the party went on, you hear the whirring sound of a plane heading towards the boat.

You and Bucky were leaning againgst the rails as Bucky watches you from the corner of his eye. His hand had reached into his back pocket while he bit back a smile.

"Look Bucky! I think my name is on that banner," you exclaimed while the plane flew by. You turn your attention back to another plane following close behind. Bucky hums In agreement, seemingly nervous as the next plane went by.

Your breath catches in your throat as you read the message written on it.

'Will you marry me?'

You were in shock when you felt Bucky shift next to you. You turn back to see him down on one knee and a box in hand. Bucky couldn't contain his excitement as he slowly opened the box, revealing a diamond ring.

"So doll...what do you think about spending the rest of our lives together?" Bucky repeats the question with hesitance apparent in his voice.

"Yes! I'd love to!!" Bucky catches you as you fall into his arms and gently pats your hair as you cry into his arm.

Embracing eachother for a while before pulling away with tears running down both your cheeks and you give him a soft smile. He tries fighting back his own tears as he gingerly places the ring onto your finger.

Peggy and Steve watched from a distance with proud smiles on their faces. They couldn't be happier for you both!

Cheers erupt from the soldiers as they throw confetti and balloons down towards the deck where you both were.

"Whoo!! Congrats Sarge!"

"You better invite us to the wedding!!"

They all shout over eachother as you two both laugh at their enthusiasm.

"Don't worry you're all invited!!" Bucky shouts back while they all cheer louder.

He then reaches for the dog tags he had hanging around his neck and slipped one around your own.

"I'm giving you this so you can keep a piece of me with you when I'm gone." He whispers gently.

"I'll keep it safe."

You play with the trinket fondly then peer up at him through your wet lashes.

"I don't have anything for you though," you mumbled with a sad look on your face.

"Doll, you saying yes to marrying me is more than enough ok?" He replies while pulling you in by the waist. You tiptoe to reach his height before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I love you James Bucky Barnes."

"I love you too angel," he whispers as he leans into your warmth, pressing a loving kiss on your lips.

The worries of tomorrow can wait. For now? You enjoy the peace and think of plans for your future wedding.

When the war was over.

p.s - sorry this was kinda long and it had a rushed ending but I hope you enjoyed it!!

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier smut #winter soldier x female reader #sebastian stan characters #james barnes x you #james barnes x reader #james barnes fanfic #james bucky barnes

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etz-ashashiyot · 10 hours ago

Text

I do think there is a conversation to be had about high-control groups and how this can put a thumb on the scale for people's choices. However, that is an INTRA community conversation, not something that needs the input of outsiders. (And, while that is primarily directed at non-Jews, to be clear that can also very much include Jews that don't know, don't care about, and/or just dislike observant religious Judaism as well. What I mean by "intracommunity" here are people who either are or were observant Jews and care about making these communities as strong and as good as possible. If you don't think that they should exist at all, that's your business, but conversations like this should be limited to those who are invested in making these communities better.)

And regardless of any intracommunity conversations that may be valid to varying degrees, the bottom line is that I personally know several brilliant orthodox women who are feminists and who genuinely love being orthodox women. Who am I to patronizingly tell them that their choices aren't valid?

Also: Any feminist issue that you could possibly think of vis a vis orthodox Judaism has almost certainly been discussed at length by orthodox Jewish women. You, as an outsider, are unlikely to have anything novel to bring to the table here. Perhaps more importantly, you as an outsider are not likely to understand or respect the worldview and halachic framework that these women are operating within and thus any "solutions" you propose are extremely unlikely to be useful. Respect for others' choices must include the decision to hold particular belief structures that dictate other choices, such as observing mitzvos that one isn't inspired by or that are personally challenging, because they believe Torah is eternal and binding.

Now, there is definitely a careful balance to be found between cultural relativism vs. respecting different worldviews and ethical frameworks, but some things I see a lot of social justice types miss are (1) getting hung up on "objective" right and wrong without examining their own views and biases deeply enough and (2) the practical reality that any proposed progress is going to be vastly more effective (if probably slower and more frustrating) if it comes from within and works within the framework that it exists in. So like for example, if you wanted to propose a solution to some problem, but it would cause people to have to break Shabbat to do it, the only people who are gonna go for it are people who would have been willing to break Shabbos to begin with and thus would be on their way out of these communities anyway. Sometimes that's the right answer! The Conservative/Masorti movement broke with the entire rest of the observant world by going fully egalitarian, which attracted some newcomers who welcomed the change and also caused those who couldn't accept it to leave for orthodoxy. But that was a highly specific choice that carries these significant consequences and thus must be left to the people within these communities to decide.

im not an orthodox jew (im conservative/masorti) nor am I a woman, but it is wild to me how often ill see an orthodox woman explain why she chooses to do something and why it brings her joy/comfort/empowerment, and literally every goy is like "ummm that sounds sooo horrible i could never do that you must be suffering so much". no she literally just said she liked it why are you convinced that every woman who is willingly part of a religion must be trapped.

like yall claim to be feminists but dont actually support women making their own choices, especially when those choices can impact men. so what if that orthodox woman isn't gonna have sex with her husband for a bit? so what if she likes to cover her hair a wig instead of a tichel? is it your place to judge her at all? the answer is no!! leave her the fuck alone. if you truly care about autonomy then learn to support it even when it's not a choice you'd personally made. do it without snarky comments about how you can't imagine how she does it, and actually try to respect the real person that she is

also please listen to actual orthodox women on this more than you listen to me. they are the ones with front row seats to this antisemitic misogyny, and they should be taken seriously when they talk about their issues

#sorry for the ramble #this is just something I've thought a lot about over the years as a femme non-binary traditional egalitarian Jew

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rafesgreasycurtainbangs · 3 days ago

Note

ANGST!!! pogue gf probably has family issues too, so this is HER chance to give her baby the life she wished she had, but in some ways she’s very wary of rafe actually loving her and thinks that he’s only with her for the baby

trust issues - rafe cameron x pregnant!pogue!reader

series masterlist

⊹ ‧₊˚ ౨ৎ content: angst with a fluff ending, reader has trust issues, kook vs pogue drama, absentee parents

⊹ ‧₊˚ ౨ৎ yap: thank you lovie for this request xx 😚 also im posting all my drafts that i have currently so its gonna be a lot

⊹ ‧₊˚ ౨ৎ word count: 1.06k

You’d grown up with nothing but hand-me-downs and hollow promises—parents who fought more than they loved, a mom who left when you were twelve, and a dad who drowned his guilt in cheap beer. The trailer you called home was a rusted cage, walls thin enough to hear every slur and crash of glass from the next room over. You swore you’d never let your kid feel that—never let them know the ache of being unwanted, the sting of a slammed door. Being pregnant with Rafe Cameron’s baby was your shot, your one-way ticket to build something better, something stable. But it came with a catch: Rafe. A Kook prince with a temper and a reputation, who looked at you with those piercing blue eyes and said all the right things. You wanted to believe him—God, you did—but every fiber of you screamed he was only here for the baby, not you. How could he love a Pogue like you, scraped raw from a life he’d never understand?

You sat on the edge of your lumpy mattress, staring at the cracked ceiling of your bedroom, one hand resting on your swollen belly—eight months now, the kicks a constant reminder of what was at stake. The trailer was quiet for once, your dad passed out on the couch with a bottle still clutched in his hand. You’d just gotten off a shift at the Wreck, feet throbbing, back screaming, but you’d tucked another $15 into that mason jar under your bed. “For baby,” you whispered to yourself, like a prayer. It was all for them—the crib you’d seen at the thrift store, the soft blankets you couldn’t afford yet. You’d give this kid everything you never had: a home that didn’t reek of regret, a parent who stayed.

The screen door squeaked, and you tensed. Rafe stepped in, his boots heavy on the warped floorboards, a plastic bag of takeout dangling from his hand. He’d been doing this lately—showing up unannounced, bringing food or random baby stuff like pacifiers you hadn’t asked for. “Hey,” he said, voice low as he glanced at your dad’s snoring form. “You eat yet?”

You shook your head, avoiding his eyes as you stood, wincing at the ache in your hips. “Wasn’t hungry.” A lie. You hadn’t eaten since breakfast—half a granola bar you’d found in your bag—but you hated how he noticed, how he kept trying to take care of you. It felt like a trap, like he was building a case to prove you needed him.

He set the bag on the rickety kitchen table, pulling out a burger and fries, the smell making your stomach growl despite yourself. “Bullshit,” he muttered, pushing it toward you. “You’re eating. You’re carrying my kid, and you look like you’re about to collapse.”

Your jaw tightened, pride flaring. “I’m fine, Rafe. I’ve been handling myself a long time before you showed up.” You didn’t move for the food, even though you wanted to. It was the principle—every bite felt like admitting you couldn’t do this alone, like letting him in deeper than you could afford.

He dragged a hand through his hair, frustration etching his face. “Why do you keep doing this? Acting like I’m the enemy? I’m here, alright? I’m trying to—” He cut himself off, exhaling hard. “I see you killing yourself for that jar under your bed, and it pisses me off. You don’t have to.”

You flinched, heat rising in your chest. He’d seen it—course he had, he noticed everything. “That’s for my baby,” you snapped, voice shaking. “Not yours to fix. I’m not some project, Rafe. I’m not gonna let you play house with me just ‘cause I got pregnant.”

His eyes darkened, and he stepped closer, voice dropping low and firm. “You think that’s what this is? Me playing house? That’s my kid too, and you’re—” He stopped, jaw clenching as he looked at you, really looked. “You’re falling apart, and you won’t let me near you. Why?”

“Because I don’t trust you” The words ripped out of you, raw and jagged, tears burning your eyes. “You’re a Cameron. You’ve got money, a big house, a whole life I don’t fit into. I’m just the Pogue chick who got knocked up—why the hell would you want me? You’re here for the baby, and that’s fine, but don’t pretend it’s more than that. I can’t—” Your voice cracked, and you turned away, wiping at your face. “I can’t let myself think you love me. Not when I know how this ends.”

The room went silent, thick with the weight of it. You heard him breathe, slow and heavy, before his hand caught your arm, turning you back to face him. His grip was firm but not rough, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your chest ache. “You’re wrong,” he said, voice low, almost broken. “I’m not here just for the kid. I’m here for you—have been since that first night we hooked up and you looked at me like I was more than some Kook asshole. You think I don’t love you? I’m a mess over you, and you won’t even see it.”

You shook your head, tears spilling now. “You don’t get it, Rafe. I’ve never had anyone stay. My mom left, my dad’s a ghost even when he’s here. I’m giving this baby everything I didn’t have, and I can’t—I can’t let myself need you, because when you go, it’ll break me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, pulling you closer, his hands framing your face. “You hear me? I’m not your mom, not your dad. I’m not leaving you or that kid. Yeah, I want our baby to have a good life—better than this shit—” he gestured at the trailer “—but I want you too. I’m pissed because you’re carrying my world in you, and you’re treating yourself like you don’t matter.”

You sobbed, the dam breaking, and he pulled you into his chest, arms tight around you as you shook. “I’m scared,” you whispered against him, the truth spilling out. “I’m so fucking scared.”

“I know,” he murmured, lips pressing into your hair. “But you’re not alone in this. I swear you’re not.” He held you there, the takeout forgotten, your dad’s snores fading into the background, until your breathing slowed and the fear loosened its grip—just a little.

taglist: @littlelamy @drewstarkeyswife0 @icaqttt

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holyblonded · 2 days ago

Text

harper days | always sunny in australia

pairings: harper gorry x sister!reader, mini gorry x teen!reader

summary: you babysit harper, a master manipulator, for the day

warnings: lost children

notes: i had no idea how much i needed harper and chickie written together

“Are you sure I’m the right person for this?” You shifted awkwardly, glancing at Mini with uncertainty. “I mean, if it’s about the cost of a regular babysitter, I’d be happy to chip in and help you pay—”

“Chickie,” Mini interrupted with a small smile, resting a hand on your arm. “Harper loves you. She specifically requested you today and refused anybody else. Please do me a solid?”

You sighed, still not entirely convinced. But before you could come up with another excuse, a small body crashed into your legs, tiny arms wrapping tightly around you.

“Chick! I missed you!” Harper’s voice was filled with excitement, and when you looked down, you were met with her beaming face as she hugged you with all the strength her little body could muster.

You couldn’t help but smile as you ruffled her hair. “I missed you too, Harps.”

Mini folded her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Still think you’re not the right person for this?”

You hesitated for a moment, but Harper was already clinging to you like you were her favorite person in the world, and the thought of letting her down made your stomach twist.

“You really think I can handle it?” you asked, still a little unsure.

Mini nodded firmly. “Absolutely. You’re great with her. And, honestly, she’s probably going to be the one taking care of you by the end of the day.”

Harper nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, Chick, I got this!”

You laughed, finally relenting. “Alright, alright. You win. We’ll have the best day ever.”

Mini sighed in relief. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this helps me.” She crouched down to Harper’s level. “Be good for Chickie, okay?”

Harper gave her mom an exaggerated thumbs-up. “Always!”

Mini shot you a knowing look. “That’s a lie, but good luck.”

After a few more instructions and an over-the-shoulder “Text me if you need anything!”, Mini finally headed out, leaving you alone with Harper, who was already bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“So, Harps, what do you wanna do today?”

Her eyes lit up instantly. “Play at the playground! And play football! And have a picnic!”

You chuckled. “That’s quite a list. But you know what?” You crouched down to her level, grinning. “We’re gonna do all of it.”

Harper let out an excited squeal, grabbing your hand and tugging you toward the door. “Let’s go, Chick! We have so much to do!”

The grocery store was buzzing with people, but you and Harper were on a mission. With a small shopping cart that was definitely not meant to be used as a race car (despite Harper’s best attempts), the two of you navigated the aisles, picking out sandwiches, fruit, juice boxes, and enough snacks to last the entire afternoon.

“Ooh! Chick, can we get the star cookies?” Harper pointed excitedly at a package, eyes wide with hope.

You pretended to think about it, tapping your chin. “Hmm… what’s the magic word?”

Harper beamed. “Please?”

You grabbed the cookies and tossed them in the cart. “That’s my girl.”

After loading up on picnic essentials, you found yourself in the sports section, eyes scanning the shelves for a kiddie football. It didn’t take long before something caught your attention, an Arsenal-branded football, perfectly sized for Harper.

“Harps, check this out!” You held up the ball, and her face lit up.

“IT’S RED!” she cheered.

“Just like our team,” you said, kneeling down in front of her. “Wanna make it official?”

Harper nodded rapidly, so you pulled out your phone and hit record.

“Alright, Harps,” you said, holding the ball up, “who’s your favorite team?”

“ARSENAL!” she shouted.

“And what color is London?”

“RED!”

“And who’s your favorite player?”

Harper giggled before launching herself at you, wrapping her arms around your neck. “You!”

Your heart practically melted, but you still had one more thing to teach her. “Alright, repeat after me—North…”

“NORTH!”

“London…”

“LONDON!”

“Forever.”

“FOREVER!”

You stopped recording and grinned. “Perfect. You’re officially one of us.”

Harper clutched the ball like it was her most prized possession, and you ruffled her hair before steering the cart toward the checkout line.

As you placed your items on the conveyor belt, Harper stood beside you, still bouncing with excitement. You were just about to grab your wallet when she gasped dramatically.

“Chick! Look! It’s Kyra and Charli!”

Your eyes snapped up, but before you could register where exactly she saw them, Harper had already wandered off, her tiny legs carrying her toward the chaos that was Kyra Cooney-Cross and Charli Grant in a store.

By the time you finished paying and looked down, Harper was gone.

Panic surged through you instantly. Your chest tightened, and the air around you suddenly felt too thick.

“Harper?” Your voice wavered as you frantically scanned the store. “Harper?”

Your breathing picked up as worst-case scenarios flooded your mind.

Then, a familiar voice cut through the noise. “Chickie?”

You turned to see Steph standing nearby, a concerned look on her face. She had a basket in one hand, but her focus was entirely on you.

“I—I can’t find Harper,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Steph immediately stepped closer, placing a firm but gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hey, breathe. She’s probably with Kyra and Charli, yeah? Let’s go find them.”

You took a shaky breath, nodding. Steph was right. Harper had said she saw them. And if she was with them, she was safe.

The two of you moved quickly through the aisles, scanning for any sign of Kyra’s unmistakable energy or Charli’s bright blonde hair.

Finally, near the home goods section, you spotted them and sure enough, there was Harper, hoisted up in Kyra’s arms as Charli tried to steady her.

“You got it, Harps?” Kyra asked as the little girl stretched toward a stuffed koala on the highest shelf.

Almost immediately, relief crashed over you. “Harper!”

The three of them froze, turning to face you. Harper beamed. “Chick! Look, I found a koala!”

Kyra and Charli, meanwhile, both looked equally confused.

“Wait,” Charli frowned, looking between you and Harper, “she’s your kid for today?”

Kyra blinked. “How did she even get here?”

Steph crossed her arms. “That’s what we’d all like to know.”

You wasted no time in striding forward and pulling Harper into a tight hug. “You scared me, Harps.”

Harper hugged you back, small arms wrapping around your neck. “Sorry, Chick… I just saw Kyra and Charli and wanted to say hi.”

You sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Next time, you tell me first, okay?”

Harper nodded, and you pulled back to give her a soft smile.

Kyra, however, nudged Charli and muttered, “Look at our little Chickie. All grown up.”

You shot her a glare. “Kyra, I swear—”

Steph clapped her hands together. “Alright, enough of that. Harper’s safe, Chickie’s no longer panicking, and Kyra and Charli are somehow still standing after whatever this was.” She looked at you. “Let’s get back to our actual plans, yeah?”

You nodded, taking Harper’s hand. “Yeah. Let’s go have our picnic.”

Harper grinned. “And play football!”

Kyra smirked. “Don’t let her nutmeg you, Chick.”

“Oh, piss off Cooney-Cross,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I taught her.”

With Harper’s hand in yours, you led her back toward the front of the store, your heart finally settling after that brief moment of sheer panic. But one thing was for sure, Harper was going to be glued to your side for the rest of the day.

The park was quiet except for the occasional sounds of kids playing and the rhythmic thud of a football being passed between you and Harper. She was full of energy, her little legs moving as fast as they could to keep up with you. Every time she managed to get the ball past you, she would let out a triumphant cheer, arms raised above her head like she had just won the World Cup.

“You’re getting too good, Harps,” you teased, tapping the ball back toward her. “Might have to start calling you the next Sam Kerr.”

Harper gasped dramatically. “No! I wanna be like you!”

That made you pause, warmth spreading through your chest. “Oh yeah?”

Harper nodded eagerly. “You teach me cool tricks! And you’re the best!”

You laughed, shaking your head as you knelt down. “Alright then, little legend. Let’s learn a new trick.”

For the next thirty minutes, you showed her how to pull off a simple step-over. At first, she kept tripping over her own feet, but after some exaggerated demonstrations (and a few dramatic tumbles on your end just to make her laugh), she finally got it. The moment she successfully pulled it off, she shrieked with joy and immediately demanded you record her doing it so she could show Mini.

After wearing yourselves out, you packed up and headed back to your and Sam’s place, where the second you sat down on the couch, Harper immediately climbed into your lap, demanding Bluey.

Not that you were going to say no.

So there you were, curled up on the couch, Harper tucked into your side as the two of you watched episode after episode. Harper giggled at the show, occasionally quoting lines before they even happened, while you felt yourself slowly sinking deeper into relaxation.

That’s how Mini found you when she came to get Harper.

“Alright, Miss Harper,” Mini sighed, hands on her hips. “Time to get ready for bed.”

Harper clung to you tighter, her little arms wrapping around your torso. “Noooo, I wanna stay with Chick!”

Mini groaned. “Harper…”

You glanced down at the little girl, who was now nuzzling into your hoodie, clearly refusing to budge. With a small chuckle, you looked up at Mini. “I can keep her for the night, if you want.”

Mini exhaled in relief. “If you’re sure? She’s all yours.”

Harper perked up, eyes shining. “YAY!”

Mini shook her head, muttering something about you spoiling her daughter before leaving you and Harper snuggled up once more. At some point, exhaustion won out, and the two of you dozed off.

Sam, who had just come home from rehab, paused at the doorway, a slow smile spreading across her face. You and Harper were curled up in the exact same position, mouths slightly open, Harper’s tiny body cradled in your arms like she belonged there.

Shaking her head in amusement, Sam pulled out her phone, snapped a picture, and immediately sent it to the Matildas group chat.

sam

Found Chickadee and her mini-me. Pretty sure I’m being replaced.

Before she could even put her phone away, replies flooded in.

kyra

LMAOOOO

mini

I literally tried to take her off Chickie but she refused

steph

My heart. This is too cute.

ellie

They even sleep the same????

Sam rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the fond chuckle that escaped her. She grabbed a blanket and gently draped it over the both of you before ruffling your hair lightly.

“Goodnight, ya little chook,” she murmured before heading to bed.

166 notes · View notes

missmaymay13 · 1 day ago

Text

i accidentally fell in love with you - w.smith

7.2k | w.smith x oc

summary: will smith is getting tired of the teams constant teasing about his love life, so, he starts a fake relationship with the athletic therapist intern, Elizabeth Brooke. the only problem? she has no clue she had been roped in to dating him.

warnings: none! just will being madly in love

summary: had so much fun writing this! i hope you guys enjoy!!

masterlist

Elizabeth Brooke loved her job.

Even on the days when the locker room smelled like sweat and sports drink, and she had to politely dodge flying tape balls and chirps from players who still hadn't fully grasped what "I'm working" meant.

Still, working as an athletic therapy intern with the San Jose Sharks for the second season in a row was a dream. She was gaining hands-on experience, earning school credit, and learning from some of the best in the league.

And most of the guys were great—loud, chaotic, but respectful. She was "Ellie" to everyone, or sometimes "Brooke," and every now and then "kiddo" when they felt particularly big-brotherly.

She mostly kept her head down, made her friends at the university nearby, and avoided any unnecessary attention at work.

Which is why she completely missed that she'd been fake-dating Will Smith without knowing it.

—

"Bro, just admit you're lonely," Macklin teased from across the locker room, taping his stick lazily. "You've been here three months and haven't gone on a single date."

Will rolled his eyes, lacing up his skates. "I'm not lonely."

"Then who's the mystery girl you're always texting?" someone else chimed in. "Or are you just playing Candy Crush?"

Will, flustered and unbothered at the same time, shrugged. "I'm uh- dating someone."

That shut them up for half a second.

Mack squinted. "You're what now?"

"Dating someone," Will repeated casually, hoping it would blow over.

It didn't.

"No way," Mack said, grinning like a shark (the metaphorical kind). "Who?"

Will panicked.

"She, uh... " he said, thinking fast. "Dark hair, brown eyes, quiet. Like—super sweet. You probably don't know her."

He thought that would be vague enough.

Unfortunately, it wasn't.

Mack's eyes lit up. "Noooo. You're dating Ellie?"

Will froze. "...What?"

"You literally just described her. Brown eyes? Quiet? You mean Elizabeth Brooke?"

"I—" Will started, but Mack cut him off.

"No way. She's way too nice to date you. That's, like, morally illegal."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Will asked, offended on behalf of himself and his imaginary girlfriend.

Right on cue, Ellie walked past the locker room, clipboard in hand, her soft smile aimed at the group like it always was—polite, sweet, almost shy. She gave a small wave.

The guys waved back.

"Dude, she's, like, adorable," one of them said. "You are not dating her."

Will, now far too committed to back out, stood up with unnecessary confidence. "Bet?"

Before anyone could respond, he jogged after her.

Ellie didn't flinch when he matched her pace down the hallway. She glanced up and smiled, recognizing him instantly.

"Hey," she said. "Need something?"

Will casually slung an arm over her shoulder. "Just walking my favourite AT to work."

She laughed, confused but not uncomfortable. "That right?"

It wasn't totally weird. The guys teased her like this all the time. She was the "little sister" of the staff, the one they all claimed to protect while also making fun of her coffee order and stealing her snacks.

So she didn't think much of it when Will walked her all the way to the recovery room, arm still resting lazily around her shoulder, chatting like they did this every day.

When they reached the door, he dropped his arm and flashed her a grin. "Catch you later, Brookie."

And with that, he turned on his heel and walked straight back toward the locker room.

Back at her station, Allan, one of the athletic therapists, raised a brow as she passed.

"What was that about?"

Ellie blinked. "What?"

"With Will."

"Oh. I dunno. He's just being nice?"

Allan gave her a look but didn't press it.

Ellie shrugged it off and returned to the charts, not knowing that Will had just created a very real problem for himself.

Because now, officially, everyone on the team thought Elizabeth Brooke was his girl.

And she had no clue about it.

⸻

Will should've let it die.

He should've said he was kidding, or made up a name, or pulled a full "you wouldn't know her, she goes to another team."

Instead, he watched Ellie from far away, calm and clueless, and turned back to the guys like he hadn't just made the worst spontaneous decision of his rookie season.

Mack raised an eyebrow. "So, she's your girlfriend."

Will crossed his arms. "Yep."

"She doesn't act like your girlfriend."

"She's private."

"She didn't even blink when you walked up to her outta nowhere and slung your arm around her like you were in a movie."

Will shrugged. "That's just how we are."

The guys all gave him the same look: We do not believe you, rookie.

"Alright," Mack said, grinning like this was the best entertainment he'd had all month. "Guess we'll keep an eye out. See how you two lovebirds act around each other."

Will blinked. "Why?"

"Just curious," Mack said. "Always fun to watch young love bloom."

Will gritted his teeth. He was so screwed.

Over the next week, things got... complicated.

He started getting asked way too many questions.

"Did you and Ellie meet here or before camp?"

"Does she like sushi or burgers better?"

"Wait, so are you guys, like, exclusive-exclusive?"

And worst of all: "When's she coming to dinner with the team?"

Will dodged. He weaved. He deflected with the skill of a man who had watched every season of Survivor and thought he could make it on the island.

But then there was Ellie—existing peacefully in her little bubble, smiling at him in the hallways, complimenting him on his stickhandling during practice, handing him water bottles like she wasn't accidentally the co-star in his elaborate charade.

She was the worst fake girlfriend.

Not because she was bad at it. She was great at it actually.

But because she didn't know she was one.

—

"You've been acting weird," she said one afternoon, handing him a compression wrap.

Will choked. "Weird? Me? I'm literally the least weird person in this room."

"There's only two of us."

"Exactly."

She narrowed her eyes, amused. "You're deflecting."

He fumbled. "I'm mysterious."

"You're twitchy."

"Hey, how's school going?!"

Ellie blinked at the hard subject change but let it slide, going off about her upcoming exams and a group project she was 99% sure would be the death of her.

Will nodded, listening but also sweating internally because why was she so nice? And why did pretending to date her feel so weirdly natural?

He needed a plan.

He needed to keep the lie alive long enough for the team to drop it—and definitely without Ellie figuring it out.

Which would be easy.

Right?

Right.

⸻

Will knew the guys were watching.

It started subtly—Macklin Celebrini lingering a bit too long by the gym entrance, pretending to scroll through his phone. Then William Eklund conveniently choosing the treadmill with the perfect vantage point of the therapy room. Even Tyler Toffoli, usually indifferent to locker room gossip, seemed to find reasons to be nearby whenever Ellie was around.

The pressure was mounting. Every time Will caught one of them glancing over, he felt the need to up his game.

During a routine stretching session, Ellie was demonstrating a new technique. Will leaned in closer than necessary, nodding intently, his arm casually brushing against hers. He could almost feel Macklin's gaze burning into his back.

"You're really getting the hang of this," Ellie said, her voice warm and encouraging.

Will smiled, resisting the urge to glance over his shoulder. "Well, I have a great teacher."

Ellie laughed softly, a sound that always managed to ease his nerves. She was so genuine, so effortlessly kind, and completely unaware of the silent battle Will was waging.

As the days went on, Will found himself seeking her out more frequently. Not just to keep up appearances, but because, truthfully, he enjoyed her company. They'd share lunch breaks, discussing everything from her university classes to his rookie experiences. He'd offer to help her carry equipment, their fingers brushing occasionally, sending unexpected jolts up his arm.

One afternoon, as they were organizing therapy bands, Ellie tilted her head, studying him with those deep brown eyes.

"I've noticed you've been around more lately," she said, a hint of curiosity in her tone.

Will's mind raced. He couldn't exactly tell her the truth—that he'd accidentally started a rumor about them dating and was now trapped in his own web of lies.

He flashed his most disarming smile. "Just love seeing my favorite girl!"

Ellie chuckled, a light blush coloring her cheeks. "You're such a goof, Will."

She returned to her task, leaving Will both relieved and increasingly aware of the warmth spreading in his chest whenever he was around her.

After a week of subtle surveillance, Macklin decided it was time to confront the situation head-on.

During a lull between practice drills, he approached Ellie, who was organizing medical supplies on the sidelines.

"Hey, Ellie," Macklin began, his tone casual but his eyes sharp with curiosity.

She looked up, offering her usual friendly smile. "Hey, Macklin. What's up?"

He leaned against the table, arms crossed. "So, the team's got a reservation this weekend at that new steakhouse downtown. Are you and Will coming together?"

Ellie's brow furrowed slightly, clearly puzzled. "Will and I? Together?"

Macklin nodded, watching her closely.

She hesitated, searching for the right words. "Oh, um, Will and I haven't really discussed plans yet. But if he's going, I'm sure we'll figure something out."

Macklin studied her for a moment longer before offering a satisfied nod. "Alright, just checking. See you there."

As he walked away, Ellie shook her head slightly, muttering to herself, "That was odd."

Unbeknownst to her, Will had been within earshot, heart pounding as he listened to the exchange. Ellie's innocent response had, miraculously, managed to maintain the facade without her even realizing it.

He exhaled a silent sigh of relief, mentally thanking Ellie for being her sweet, oblivious self. For now, his secret was safe.

⸻

"Hey," Ellie said casually, poking her head into the workout room where Will was finishing post-practice stretches. "Macklin said you and I were going to that steakhouse dinner together?"

Will's entire body froze mid-stretch like he'd been caught committing tax fraud.

"Uh—what?" he asked, voice suspiciously high-pitched.

Ellie raised a brow, laughing a little. "You good? You look like I asked you to do my calculus homework."

Will scrambled for a response. "Uhhh... I mean, yeah, yeah. We're going together. I—I think I said that because we live close to each other? So like... rideshare logic?"

Ellie blinked. Then smiled. "Oh! Yeah, I guess that makes sense."

Will let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Crisis averted.

"So," she added, tilting her head, "what time are you picking me up?"

Will's brain short-circuited again, but he somehow managed a grin. "Seven work?"

"Perfect!" she chirped, then turned to leave with a little wave.

He collapsed back onto the mat, hands over his face. "I am in so deep," he muttered to himself.

That Night – 7:25 PM

The Sharks were already seated inside the sleek, dimly lit steakhouse, tucked into a long table with just enough elbow room for their egos. Players and WAGs alike had shown out—suits, dresses, full glam. The waiters were clearly a little overwhelmed by the sheer size of the reservation.

Macklin Celebrini sat at the far end, nursing a soda and keeping a suspicious eye on the entrance. William Eklund beside him leaned back just far enough to peek into the lobby. They were both very ready to witness Will Smith's downfall.

Then the front doors opened.

And there they were.

Will, in a crisp navy button-up, hair actually brushed for once. And Ellie, in a soft yellow dress that made her look like literal sunshine, paired with wedges and a tiny purse. Her hair was pulled half-up, and she looked so perfect it physically pained Will.

What really caught the boys' attention, though, was the parking lot performance.

From their seats, they had the perfect view of Will jogging around to open the car door for her. They watched as she stepped out, a little hesitant in her wedges, arms wrapped tightly around herself against the San Jose chill.

Then—the move.

Will noticed instantly, rubbing the back of his neck before casually slinging an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side as they walked.

They couldn't hear what he said—but her head tilted up, cheeks pink, and she let out a giggle so soft and pretty it made half the table blink in unison.

Inside, Will leaned in. "Sorry, I'd give you my jacket if I had one, but I don't think the restaurant would be thrilled if I showed up shirtless. So... this'll have to do."

Ellie giggled again. "You're ridiculous. Thank you."

When they finally made it to the table, the group greeted them with a flurry of side-eyes and smirks.

Will, clueless, helped Ellie into her chair and pulled his in beside her like it was no big deal. Ellie greeted everyone like she always did—smiling, polite, a little shy.

Most of the guys exchanged a glance like, Oh. This is real.

Except Macklin, who squinted across the table like a man on a mission.

And Eklund, who whispered, "They're either dating or he's really good at improv."

"Something's off," Macklin muttered.

Will clinked water glasses with Ellie like he hadn't been spiraling all week and very much was about to choke on his Caesar salad.

He shot a glance at her, still laughing at something Toffoli had said, and smiled despite himself.

Fake girlfriend? Maybe. Unintentional real feelings? ...Yeah, possibly.

But for tonight?

He'd take the win.

⸻

Will was going to combust.

He'd made it thirty minutes into the dinner without incident, which was practically an Olympic-level achievement considering Macklin and Eklund were sitting directly across from him, analyzing his every breath like it was game tape.

Ellie, for her part, was just being... Ellie. Sunshine in a yellow dress, sipping water with two lemon slices like always, laughing at all the right moments, completely unaware that she was currently the centerpiece of Will's accidental soap opera.

She hadn't noticed the extra chair pulled just a little closer to his. Or the way he'd kept an arm draped over the back of hers like it was no big deal. Or the way he kept glancing at her like she was a live wire and he had no business being this close to it.

And then—it happened.

In the middle of the meal, with conversation buzzing and forks clinking against plates, Ellie reached over without looking and gently wiped a smudge of sauce from the corner of Will's mouth with her thumb.

Just. Like. That.

Not a second of hesitation. Like it was the most casual thing in the world.

Will practically short-circuited.

"Uhh—" he choked, blinking rapidly as she returned to her conversation with Henry Thrun like nothing had happened.

His eyes darted across the table. Macklin was staring at him with a raised brow and suspiciously slow sip of water. Eklund looked like he was watching an interrogation scene from a crime show.

Will swallowed. Kept his cool. Pretended he didn't just die a little inside.

Ellie leaned toward him a moment later, brushing her arm against his, and without thinking, Will rested his arm casually along the back of her chair again. This time, it wasn't even a strategic move—it was grounding. He needed it to survive.

Then Cat Toffoli, looking stunning as always in some sleek blazer-dress situation, smiled from a few seats down.

"Aww," she said sweetly, "you guys are so cute."

Both Will and Ellie froze.

Will felt his entire soul detach from his body.

Ellie blinked. "Oh... um. Thanks!"

And then—nothing. She just turned back to her food like someone hadn't just complimented her on her nonexistent relationship.

Will internally screamed.

Macklin's head tilted, slow and thoughtful like he was watching live footage of a wildlife documentary.

Eklund narrowed his eyes. "She's either the best actress I've ever seen... or she really doesn't know."

Will met their stares across the table and smiled tightly. He was losing control fast.

But then Ellie glanced up at him, catching his eye, and smiled that sweet little smile that always made his stomach twist.

And Will realized something terrifying.

He didn't want to stop pretending anymore.

⸻

After the dinner, Will dropped Ellie off at her place with a grin that he swore didn't tremble. She thanked him like she always did—sweet, soft, a little shy—and then gave a small wave as she walked through her front door.

He waited until the door shut behind her before fully exhaling, like he'd been holding his breath all night before walking back to his car.

Then he slumped back into the driver's seat of his car and let the silence wrap around him like a weighted blanket of doom.

What the hell am I doing?

This wasn't supposed to be a thing. It was supposed to be a fake relationship to get the guys off his back. A little white lie to preserve the dignity of a guy who definitely wasn't secretly terrified of girls.

Because Will Smith might've looked like he had it all together—confident, flirty, always saying the right thing. But deep down?

He was a mess.

The reason he'd never had a girlfriend? He was shy. So painfully shy when it came to feelings that he once ghosted a girl for trying to hold his hand on a Ferris wheel.

But with Ellie?

It was different. Too easy. She was sunshine in human form. The kind of girl who made everything brighter just by walking into the room. She laughed with her whole chest, leaned into people when she talked, and made everyone feel like the most important person in the world—even when she was just handing them a water bottle.

Will groaned, dragging his hands through his hair.

He was in trouble.

He didn't know when it happened. Maybe it was when she giggled at his dumb joke during warmups. Or when she'd wiped barbecue sauce off his face at the steakhouse like it was nothing.

Or maybe it was the way she looked at him sometimes. Like really looked at him. Her eyes soft, a little curious, like she was trying to figure him out.

He thumped his forehead gently against the steering wheel.

Honk.

A loud beep pierced the night, his horn setting off a chain reaction of startled honks from neighboring cars.

"Great," he muttered, covering his face. "Just great."

He was spiraling.

Actually, genuinely spiraling.

Hands in his hair, stomach in knots, brain screaming you are fake dating the girl you like and she doesn't even know!

Then—

Buzz.

His phone lit up in the cup holder.

Ellie: You okay?

Will blinked. Turned slowly.

She was standing at her front door again, wrapped in a blanket, phone in one hand, amusement written all over her face. She waved once, eyebrow raised.

He groaned, letting his head drop back on the seat.

She saw the whole thing.

Of course she did.

And of course, she probably thought nothing of it. Just Will being a goof. Her friend. Her coworker.

Not the idiot who was definitely falling for her one fake moment at a time.

Will texted back.

Will: All good. Just fighting for my life.

Her laugh echoed in his head even through the screen.

Yup.

He was in deep.

And this? This was going to be a problem.

⸻

Practice had wrapped, and most of the guys had cleared out, but Ellie was still in the hallway reorganizing a few treatment plans when Macklin Celebrini and William Eklund casually strolled over—just a little too casual.

"Hey, Brooke," Mack said, leaning on the wall next to her.

Ellie glanced up with a smile. "Hey guys. You need something?"

"Nope," Eklund said quickly. "Just hanging out. Long day, huh?"

"Always is," Ellie hummed, flipping a page on her clipboard. "Will was limping again. I told him to stretch more but he's stubborn."

Eklund exchanged a loaded look with Macklin, but kept his tone neutral. "Yeah? You two carpool today?"

"Mhmm," Ellie nodded without looking up. "We usually do after morning skates. I hate driving and he lets me control the aux."

Mack grinned. "What's your go-to playlist?"

"Oh, I've got a rotation. Depends on the vibe. But I always throw in a couple songs Will secretly likes but pretends to hate. He groans every time but doesn't skip them."

Eklund raised a brow. "What, like guilty pleasure music?"

"Exactly," she said, finally glancing up with a sweet, knowing smile. "He has a weird soft spot for Taylor Swift. But I won't tell anyone that."

Mack bit back a grin. "His favorite song?"

Ellie paused. "Okay, this is gonna sound fake, but he loves 'Wildest Dreams.' Like... screams the bridge in the car."

Eklund blinked. "Seriously?"

She giggled. "Dead serious. It's actually kind of impressive."

The two Sharks exchanged a look. This was going sideways.

Mack tried a new angle. "So, like... if Will gets hangry, what's the move?"

"Easy. Chicken tenders and a nap," she said, not missing a beat. "And keep conversation to a minimum until he's eaten. He's dramatic about it."

Eklund looked visibly thrown. "That's... oddly specific."

"I know," Ellie said brightly. "He's kind of a walking tantrum when he's hungry."

The boys were stumped. These were real answers. Couple-level answers.

And yet... Ellie seemed so chill about it. Not gushing. Not flustered. Just... Ellie.

"You ever get in fights with him?" Mack asked carefully.

Ellie scrunched her nose. "Not really. I mean, he gets pouty when I beat him at Mario Kart, but that's on him. I warned him I was good."

"So... no drama?" Eklund asked.

She smiled. "We're pretty easy together, honestly. It's fun."

It was fun.

Too fun.

Macklin and Eklund watched her walk off a minute later, still humming as she disappeared down the hallway.

"...Dude," Eklund said finally. "I think they're actually dating."

"No way," Mack whispered. "Will's been acting like a man on the edge for weeks."

"I don't know, man. She knows his favorite comfort food and his guilty pleasure song."

"She also just called him a tantrum in the body of a hockey player."

"...Fair."

Later that afternoon, the boys watched from afar as Ellie received a bouquet of flowers.

She smiled down at the card with that glowing, delighted look only she could pull off, and Will was standing right next to her.

Mack jabbed Eklund in the ribs. "He got her flowers."

"I'm seeing it," Eklund muttered. "This is insane."

(They did not know the flowers were from Ellie's parents congratulating her on finishing finals.)

Then there was the car ride home. Again.

Then the lunch they ate together in the corner of the lounge, shoulders bumping as they laughed at something on Will's phone.

Then the hallway.

They found them—alone, mid-conversation, completely unaware of their silent audience. Will was leaned against the wall, looking down at her with that look—the kind of look that belonged in a Nicholas Sparks movie.

Ellie was smiling up at him, cheeks pink, hands lightly clasped in front of her. Will leaned in slightly, said something that made her duck her head with a giggle. She bumped his arm, he nudged her back.

No one else was around.

No audience. No act.

And yet... it felt like something real.

The silence between Macklin and Eklund stretched.

Then—

"Okay," Macklin admitted. "Maybe we were wrong."

Eklund sighed. "Or Will's playing the longest con of all time and she's just the best partner in crime?"

They both kept watching.

And somehow, they weren't even mad about it.

They were just... curious.

And very invested.

—

Ellie rarely traveled with the team. She was usually tied up with classes back at the university, so most of the road trips came and went without her presence.

But this time?

Spring break aligned perfectly. No labs, no lectures. Just a brief window of time and an open seat on the team flight. So Ellie packed her essentials and joined the Sharks for their road trip to Colorado.

Will didn't hesitate to claim the seat next to her. Of course he didn't.

The moment they boarded the plane, he threw his backpack in the overhead bin, turned to her with a grin, and said, "Window or aisle, your call."

Ellie laughed softly. "Window. I like the clouds."

Macklin Celebrini and William Eklund were seated directly in front of them.

And they were ready.

Armed with subtle glances and perfectly angled earbuds that weren't even playing music, they listened in shamelessly—because this whole thing? This mystery situationship between Will and Ellie had become their full-time investigation.

And the second the plane started to taxi, the cuteness hit the fan.

"Do you have my headphones in your bag?" Ellie asked, nudging Will's knee with hers.

Will reached down, unzipped a pouch, and handed them to her without a word.

Macklin blinked.

Then Ellie leaned back, brows knitting. "Wait—did you remember to turn the oven off before we left?"

Will groaned dramatically. "You were supposed to check it after I made that frozen pizza."

She gasped. "You left it on?!"

He smirked. "Relax. I turned it off. I just wanted to see you panic."

"Rude," she muttered, smacking his arm.

Eklund tilted his head. "Are they married?"

Then Will added, "Don't forget to call your mom when we land."

"Oh yeah, speaking of parents," Ellie said, suddenly brightening, "how did your dad like that movie I recommended?"

Will grinned. "He loved it. Said he wants to rewatch it with you over FaceTime because he has questions and thinks you're smarter than me."

Ellie beamed, flattered. "He has great taste."

In front of them, Macklin was having a quiet meltdown.

"They're so real," he whispered.

"They're either actually dating," Eklund whispered back, "or we're living in a simulation and none of this is real."

Eventually, the conversation quieted. Will pulled out his laptop, propped it between them, and opened their current binge show—something light and funny that they both always watched together but swore they weren't watching without each other.

They didn't say much after that. Just quiet laughs, small comments, Ellie leaning a little closer as she got comfortable.

Then silence.

Macklin turned around to say something dumb—probably a chirp about their show—and stopped mid-breath.

He nudged Eklund urgently.

They both turned slowly.

And what they saw nearly sent them into cardiac arrest.

Will had shifted into the corner of the seat by the window, legs stretched out across the row. One arm was draped lazily but securely around Ellie, who was curled against him, practically on top of him, her head tucked into his chest, his hand resting on her arm.

Her arm was wrapped around his waist.

The laptop was dark. The episode long finished.

They were both fast asleep.

Macklin sat back in stunned silence.

Eklund stared blankly ahead.

"Okay," Mack finally whispered. "I think they might actually be in love."

"Yeah," Eklund agreed quietly. "We've lost."

And for once... neither of them minded.

⸻

It had been a smooth road trip. No injuries, no drama, just a few wins and a lot of good vibes.

Until Ellie got pulled aside in the hallway by Coach.

Not Will. Not one of the guys. Coach.

Coach gave her a polite nod, crossing his arms. "I've been informed that you're dating Will."

Ellie blinked. "I'm sorry... what?"

"I don't have an issue with it," he added quickly, "you're both adults. Just make sure you keep things professional when you're in the building."

Ellie just stared at him. Brain buffering. "Wait. Dating?"

He raised an eyebrow. "That's what I heard."

"Who told you that?"

"I think it started with Celebrini."

Of course it did.

Ellie nodded slowly, like maybe if she gave herself enough time, the moment would start to make sense. It didn't. She walked away in a daze, grabbing her stuff and heading out to where Will was already waiting in the car to drive her home.

When she got in, Will gave her the usual lazy smile. "Hey. Ready?"

She buckled her seatbelt slowly. "Are we dating?"

The car jerked slightly as Will's foot nearly missed the gas.

"I—what?"

"Coach said we're dating," she said calmly, like she wasn't possibly re-evaluating every moment of her life. "And Mack apparently told him?"

Will froze. Completely.

"Oh my god," he whispered.

Ellie stared. "Are we?"

Silence.

Then—

"I didn't mean for it to go this far!" Will blurted, hands flying off the wheel at a stoplight. "I swear! The guys kept teasing me about being single and I panicked, and I just... said I had a girlfriend! And then they wanted to know who, and I kinda... randomly described you. Because I had a crush on you, like, a huge one, and you were literally right there and—"

Ellie stared, eyes wide.

"—and it made sense because you're always nice to me and everyone adores you, and I thought it would die after a week, but then they didn't believe me so I had to prove it, and you just—kept being you, and I couldn't stop it."

Will looked like he was fighting for air.

"And then I didn't tell you, and it just got worse, and I didn't want you to hate me for lying, and I really didn't mean to fake-date you, it's just now it's not fake because I have very real, very tragic, very permanent feelings for you, and I know I ruined everything and you probably want to punch me in the face but—"

"Will," she said softly, her cheeks fully flushed.

"—and I'm freaking out, and I think I need to call my sister or move to another country or maybe both—"

"Will."

He whipped his head toward her, wide-eyed. "Please say something. Oh my god, did I just mess this all up? I'm so stupid. This is so bad—"

She cut him off.

With a kiss.

Will froze for a second—completely stunned—but then he melted into it, arms loosening, hand finding hers between the seats. Her lips were warm and soft and it was better than every fantasy he'd ever had.

One hand found her jaw, the other tangled in her sleeve, and she melted into him, laughing softly against his lips as they pulled apart.

"I would've said yes," she said breathlessly, cheeks pink, eyes bright. "You know. If you had just asked me out like a normal person."

Will was dazed. "You... you would've?"

She giggled. "Will, I've always thought you were cute. You just never asked."

"I literally faked a relationship because I didn't think you'd say yes."

"And you thought I was the oblivious one," she teased.

Will groaned and dropped his forehead to the steering wheel.

Honk.

She snorted as he flailed. "You've got to stop doing that."

"I can't think straight when you're here," he mumbled into the wheel. "Oh my god, I'm in love with you."

"I'm starting to notice."

—

Unbeknownst to them, across the parking lot, Macklin Celebrini sat in his car, slurping a smoothie and watching the scene unfold through his windshield.

He hadn't heard the words.

But he didn't need to.

He saw the kiss.

He saw the smile on Will's face after.

He saw Ellie laughing, looking at Will like he was the sunshine for once.

Macklin nodded to himself.

"Alright. It's real."

Then he picked up his phone.

Macklin: ur not gonna believe this but it's actually real. like, REALLY real. they kissed. in the parking lot. right now.

Eklund: send pics

Macklin: dude i'm not a creep

Eklund: that's news to me

—

Will was freaking out.

He was pacing the sidewalk in front of her house, pulling at the collar of his sweater, double-checking the dinner reservation under "Smith, party of two," and obsessively checking his hair in his phone camera.

Then, like any reasonable man in distress, he called his sister.

"Grace. SOS."

She picked up on the first ring. "Please tell me you didn't forget deodorant."

"I brought flowers," he said instead, holding the bouquet in one hand like it might suddenly explode. "Is that too much? Is it weird? We've basically been 'dating' for like, two months. This is somehow more stressful."

"It's not too much," Grace said, laughing. "It's perfect. You're nervous because it's real now."

Will groaned. "Yeah, well, real makes me want to throw up."

"Then it's working."

—

Ellie opened her door in a soft sage green sundress and her favorite pair of heeled sandals, hair curled loosely and cheeks already blushing before she even saw him.

Then she did see him—leaning against his car, freshly showered, holding a bouquet of daisies.

Her stomach flipped.

"Oh," she said quietly, smiling like the sun. "You brought me flowers?"

Will froze for half a second, then handed them over with an awkward little shrug. "Thought you deserved some. You've been dating me for months without actually being asked out."

She laughed, soft and sweet. "I didn't mind."

"Well," he said, his voice low and suddenly serious, "I do."

And just like that, Ellie was nervous too.

—

They went to a cozy, hip little restaurant downtown—intimate lighting, trendy cocktails, tiny candles on every table. Definitely a date-night spot. Will held every door open, let her choose the booth, and complimented her three times before they even ordered drinks.

Conversation flowed like it always did—easy, natural, full of low laughter and little looks that lasted longer than they used to. They didn't check their phones. They didn't rush. They stayed long after the plates were cleared, just sipping and talking, the city glowing outside the window behind them.

It was perfect.

Then—

"Oh my god," Ellie whispered suddenly, leaning across the table. "Don't look now, but I swear that's Cat Toffoli."

Will turned immediately.

"Will!" she hissed, laughing.

Sure enough, Cat and Tyler were strolling past their table on their way out. Cat caught sight of them first and lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Ellie! Will! Look at you two!"

Will stood up and gave Tyler a side hug while Ellie leaned in for a hug from Cat.

"You guys look adorable," she whispered into Ellie's ear before pulling away with a knowing grin.

Tyler clapped Will on the shoulder. "Try the tiramisu. Trust me. Split it."

Then they disappeared into the night, leaving Will and Ellie smiling stupidly across the table.

"Tiramisu?" Ellie asked.

Will flagged down their server.

—

Will had barely made it to his stall before Tyler Toffoli, who conveniently sat between Will and Macklin, turned to him with a smirk.

"So?" Tyler asked, casually taping his stick. "How was the tiramisu?"

Will grinned, tugging off his sweatshirt. "Delicious. You were right."

Macklin's head snapped around. "What tiramisu? What restaurant? You went out without me?"

Will shrugged like it was no big deal. "I took Ellie out. Like on a date."

Tyler chimed in, totally unbothered. "Saw them at this cute downtown spot with Cat. They looked so cute all dressed up. I had to say something."

Macklin stared at Will. "You really took her on a date?"

Will smirked, still high off last night. "Yup. Proper one. Flowers and everything."

Mack slumped against his stall, looking betrayed. "Unbelievable."

"You'll get over it," Will said, tugging on his jersey.

But the whole time, he was smiling to himself.

Because this time?

It wasn't fake.

⸻

A year and a half into dating, and Will and Ellie were still the couple that made people's teeth hurt.

They were that couple—matching hoodies, forehead kisses at the rink, inside jokes that made no sense, and a suspiciously high number of shared playlists. Will still lit up every time she walked into a room. Ellie still blushed when he kissed her cheek, even if it happened thirty times a day.

Tonight, most of the Sharks were crammed into Mario Ferraro's house for a lowkey night of pizza, video games, and yelling at the TV.

Ellie and Will? They were in the kitchen.

Bickering.

Loudly.

"I told you not to watch it without me," Ellie huffed, hands on her hips, wearing one of Will's hoodies and looking so betrayed. "That was our show."

Will, leaning dramatically against the fridge, groaned. "It was one episode! One! I was on the road and bored!"

"It was our show, Will! That's basically emotional cheating!"

"You were asleep by nine that night!"

"I was exhausted because someone dragged me to an early morning skate!"

"You insisted on making pancakes afterward!"

"I thought it would be romantic!" she gasped, hand flying to her chest.

Will raised an eyebrow. "So this isn't romantic?"

They glared. It was heated. Petty. A little ridiculous.

And then—

"You never would've done that while you were dating me without my knowledge!"

Silence.

Utter. Silence.

The living room went quiet. Like dead silent. No chewing. No breathing.

Ellie froze, eyes wide. "Oh... shoot."

Will turned bright red. Like stop-sign red.

She winced. "I wasn't supposed to say that, was I?"

He lunged toward her instantly, wrapping her in a suffocating bear hug, smothering her against his chest. "You're so dead. You're so dead."

From the other room came a chorus of gasps and groans.

And then—two familiar heads slowly peeked around the kitchen corner.

Macklin Celebrini, smugger than ever. William Eklund, arms crossed and grinning like a cat who finally caught the canary.

"So," Mack said slowly. "It was fake?"

Will groaned into Ellie's shoulder.

Ellie peeked around him, cheeks pink but grinning. "For a good 3 months, yeah. I was as clueless as you guys."

Eklund pointed at Will. "We knew something was off. The way it came out of nowhere? The way Will was acting? Come on."

Will let his forehead fall dramatically onto Ellie's shoulder. "I hate everything."

"You faked a relationship," Mack said, "and then fell in love for real? That's some Hallmark-level stuff."

"I panicked!" Will shouted into the void. "And then she was just... her. And I couldn't not like her! Have you met her?"

"She's literally the nicest person alive," Eklund agreed, nodding solemnly. "Honestly, we're impressed."

From the couch, Cat Toffoli yelled, "Called it!"

Tyler shouted, "It all makes sense now!"

And from then on, no matter what Will did, the boys never let him forget it.

Anytime Ellie walked into the locker room? "Careful, boys. Will might be fake-dating her again."

Every anniversary? "Happy Fakeiversary!"

" Did you count all the months you were fake dating? Or only the months you were actually dating."

Every time he so much as looked at her with heart eyes? "Wow. That fake girlfriend really got to you, huh?"

And Will?

He took it. Because, yeah.

She really did.

148 notes · View notes

suhsweet · 2 days ago

Text

double kisses ⟡ csc

wc: 5.7k+ | pair: idol!seungcheol x nonidolf!reader | genre: angst, fluff | tags: 65% sadness & 35% fluff, breaking up but getting back together, mention of divorce as a lighthearted joke, mention of being in the public eye, long-distance relationship, it is cute til it aint and then its cute again

summary: you and seungcheol, the leader of a world-famous boygroup, come up with a signal that he can use to let you know he's thinking of you even in front of the whole world... but is it enough?

authors note: i have reborn. yeah we rushed it but it's still something noooooo?

No one said dating an idol was easy. Probably because doing so would be admitting that they were dating an idol, and risk their partner's career.

However, you are dating an idol, specifically Choi Seungcheol. You of all people would know that it was challenging. Not only was he the leader of Seventeen, but Seventeen was taking over the world at a rapid pace— demand for them was at a high. This meant that you basically had to share your boyfriend.

The irregular schedules made it hard to see him. When he wasn't with you, he was either working or touring. Hours were irregular, and being apart never got easier.

You spent many nights alone wondering if this was all worth it. You had someone who you found to be your other half, who was devoted and loyal to you like no other. You desperately wanted to shout it out from the rooftops:

Seungcheol is mine!

Yet the world would come down upon the two of you if a whisper of your relationship came out. As sweet as Carats are, you feared the paparazzi or sasaengs who would take advantage of something so special to you. Most of all, you didn't want to risk Seungcheol's career. It was a dream that he worked so hard on ever since he was a teenager.

In front of the TV, his body is snuggled to your side, his head a welcome weight on your shoulder. His hair tickles your cheek as you glance down at him, to his lashes and down his nose. It's a reminder, physical evidence that he's right here with you.

You aren't paying attention to the screen. You know he isn't either.

His tour starts tomorrow. Two nights in Incheon, then he's off to Japan, and then the rest of the world. Two months of touring in a completely different continent, and then he's back for a month to promote the group's next comeback. Then he's back on tour once more.

You had a list of clocks, all set to each country that he'll be visiting on your phone. The both of you shared locations. You even had the widget app that lets you draw or write little messages to each other.

Seungcheol's left a whole basket full of his clothes for you to wear when you miss him. He has a bottle of your fragrance, one of your beanies, and a pair of your favorite Gentle Monster sunglasses.

The two of you have prepared the best you can to be apart for months on end– little pieces of each other to make up for the oceans that will separate you.

You've been trying to remain optimistic, but you know it wouldn't be enough. Knowing that it's 3am in Singapore won't make up for the loss of his arms around you. Seeing his cute little drawings appear on your phone screen won't make up for the lack of his sweet kisses.

A pressure presses from behind your eyes, and you quickly blink the moisture away. It doesn't work. A tear escapes. And then another. With your eyes squeezed shut, you bury your face in your lover's hair and inhale his scent, the one you've associated to home.

You don't want to cry. To leave Seungcheol with this image of you – unhappy and upset, is cruel. You need to be excited for him to travel the world and meet people who adore his group. He's going to be doing what he loves every night! Being on stage and performing with his family! Why are you crying?!

It's not like he's going to be gone forever. He's told you that he wants a future with you. One day, he'll retire. You'll get married, have a tonne of kids, and travel the world for as long as you want.

You just need to be patient. Don't be selfish.

Except you are.

All you want to do is beg him to stay, not to leave you. You want to tell him that you're scared he'll forget about you. You trust his loyalty, but you can't help the doubt that tickles the back of your mind.

A ragged breath escapes you, and Seungcheol's head immediately jerks up. His hand is on your wrist before you can block your face from his view.

"Baby," he breathes.

"I-I'm sorry," you whimper pathetically, and then you're immediately gathered in his arms. Now that he knows that you're crying, it's as if your body has given you no choice but to let the floodgates open.

You grip his shirt, just above his heart as he tries to soothe you. Sobs rack your body. Seungcheol squeezes you close to him and presses his lips to your head.

Deep down, in the deepest, ugliest depths of your conscience; you want to beg him to quit. You want him out of the public eye and to live a quiet life with you.

As soon as the thought enters your mind, you immediately shove it away. Shame floods you. You knew what you were getting into when Seungcheol asked you to be his girlfriend. He warned you.

Don't be selfish.

Your sobs eventually evolve into whimpers and sniffs. Seungcheol's hand smoothes circles across your back, and it helps you pull yourself together.

The two of you are silent for another five minutes. The sounds coming from the TV fills the room, the noise becoming a little clearer while the thundering of your pulse in your ears quiets.

Seungcheol, ever so patient, murmurs 'I love you's repeatedly, and presses kisses into your hairline.

When he sees that you've calmed down, he cautiously asks if you want to talk about it. When you look at him and see the concern in his gaze, you almost cry again.

But you don't. Instead, you nod quietly.

You explain your fears of him being away. Won't he forget about you? Won't the time apart make him bored of you? He'll be too busy to think about you, let alone set time aside for calls and messages.

Seungcheol immediately stops you. His thick brows are furrowed, as he wills you to look at him. He makes sure you're looking into his eyes. "There is never a moment when you aren't on my mind. When I'm on stage, I think about you and hope that you're watching. When I exercise, I think about how I want to impress you with my muscles. When I'm on a plane, I wonder if you've eaten and if you're safe."

Your heart squeezes. Every word sounds like a vow. You believe him. How could you not? His expression is imploring, imploring you to believe him because he desperately wants you to know it's true.

"When I'm with the guys, I think about how much you'd be giggling if you were there to witness their bullshit. They always ask about you, so I can't even forget about you even if I tried! When I go through hair and makeup, I think about the looks that you liked and ask the stylists to recreate it.

I don't want you to ever think that I'll forget about you. You are my life. Everything I do is for you."

Your lips quirk up into a small smile. "You're my life too." Yet, a part of you is still unsure. "Two months is a long time."

"It'll feel like years. But you'll be on my mind for every second."

"I'll be watching every single one of your fancams that gets posted," you warn playfully. "Don't flirt too hard with the fans."

He throws his head back to laugh, and it's a beautiful sound. A giggle of your own joins it.

He looks to you once more, a soft smile on his lips and his eyes sparkling with what could only be described as adoration. "We should come up with a signal for me to use."

Your head tilts in confusion.

"You said you'll be watching every fancam of me. Give me a signal I can use to show you that I'm thinking about you."

You suck in a gush of air as your chest warms at his eagerness to make you happy, even while across the world from you.

"You'd do that?"

"You seriously think that I wouldn't? C'mon! Give me something."

You rack your brain for an idea. You think about the little habits that you both have, and ways in which you can turn them into a gesture that can easily be overlooked, but unique enough to know that it's purely for you.

Immediately think about his habit of kissing you twice.

His lips press against yours once. "One kiss for you." He leans in once more. "One kiss for me."

You're walking in the park at night, when there is hardly anyone out. He brings your joined hand to his lips, pressing two kisses into the back of your hand.

As soon as he steps into your apartment after a long day at work, you're in his arms. He buries his head into the crook of your neck and kisses it twice: once to let you know he's home, and again to let him know that he's finally reunited with you.

With your hand flat, you tap your fingers to your lips twice and bring your arm out as if blowing a kiss.

His gaze softens as he recognises where you got your idea from. One for you, and one for me. He double taps his lips then brings his arm away to blow a kiss in one fluid move. "Like this?"

"I think it's good. Looks natural."

⟡

It's the first song of the concert, and as soon as the camera shows Seungcheol on screen, he's sends a double kiss.

You're sitting next to Jeonghan dressed like you're part of the staff. The face mask you have on hides both your identity, and your blush from the cheeky gaze of Seungcheol's right hand man.

"Can't believe you find him more attractive than me," Jeonghan teases. You knock your shoulders with his. "I might be doing my military service, but at least I'll still be in the same country as you."

As the concert goes on you look out for your signal and you're impressed by the way Seungcheol makes it look so natural. Sometimes he only double taps his lips, looking into the camera with a knowing look.

He'll explain to you later on that if he only does the original signal, it is a little repetitive but he still wants you to know that he's thinking of you. You'll tell him that he doesn't have to do it for every song or every time the camera's focused on him. He'll pout and tell you that he's brainstorming of other ways he can do your signal without completely transforming it.

At the end of the concert for the encore, all Seungcheol can do is send double kisses to the camera of every fan he can see. As Aju Nice turns into Fighting, he starts sending double kisses to the upper floors of the stadium.

Finally, he sends them to the balcony. The fans think that he's sending them to Jeonghan but you know they're for you. Some of the other members notice and join him. Most of them simply blow kisses but some of the other observant members, like Mingyu and The8, send double kisses the same way Seungcheol does. Dokyeom in particular makes a show of blowing kisses in an excessively flirtatious manner, only stopping when he sees Vernon’s confused stare from the corner of his eye.

The sight has you feeling like you're glowing. This is enough, you decide. To see Seungcheol surrounded by his dearest friends, doing what makes him happy, reminding you that he's thinking of you.

⟡

"Hi baby!" Seungcheol greets you, it's awfully bright wherever he is. The phone lights up your darkened room.

"Hi Cheollie," your voice is hoarse. It's four in the morning, where you are. You have a few hours of sleep left before you have to wake up for work.

"Shit, were you sleeping?" Seungcheol's concerned expression fills the screen. "I'm sorry baby, I thought the clock said it's four pm in Korea... Go back to sleep baby, I'll call you later."

"Okay... I love you." You nod, already feeling sleep come to you.

"I love you," he responds. Your eyes flutter close. Faintly you hear the sound of Seungcheol kissing the phone twice, and the sombre sound of the call ending.

⟡

"How many fancams did you find today, baby?" Seongcheol asks.

He's snuggled in bed just as you're walking home from work.

"Hmm, around eight I think. I didn't get to look properly because of work," you hum. "I don't think it works for Super."

Seungcheol laughs. "I told you, I'm thinking of an alternative for the cooler songs. I even enlisted Hoshi to help me."

"Great, so now Hoshi knows that I'm insecure and needy," you joke with a pout.

"No love. To Hoshi, I'm the one who's insecure and needy. Did you see my sign during God of Music?"

You laugh, "I did! You were so cute."

Seungcheol preens from your praise. A drunken smile is plastered on his face, one that lets you know that he's exhausted. His words are slurred together. "I miss you baby."

"I miss you more," you promise. "Nine days to go, but who's counting?"

Cheol smirks. "Time will fly. I can't wait to have you sit on my face again."

"Cheol!" You scold.

He cackles into your AirPods. "Hey! Two months is a long time! Lotion and my hand are nothing compared to my gorgeous, stunning girlfriend. You've ruined me."

"Gross!"

"I miss you," Seungcheol sighs again once the comedic air of your banter settles.

I miss you so much more. It hurts so much. I don't ever want you to leave again, you want to say. Spend a week in bed with me to make up for your absence.

Instead, you ask about his schedule once he gets home. You want to see if you'll have at least a full day with him. You don't even need to go out or do anything special. You just want to be with him.

The upcoming comeback schedule ruins your hopes. Every day, there is something happening. Between practice, fittings, music show pre-recording, variety show filming, and radio interviews; the only time you'll get to spend with him is whenever he's home. There are days where he won't even be able to go home to sleep.

You carefully control your facial expressions from showing betrayal, and grief. You nod slowly, and try to give him a genuine smile. He sees through your act, but stays quiet. He knows there's nothing that he can do to help. Instead he tells you a funny story from tour that he hopes will distract you. It works.

⟡

The grief of your heartbreak is consuming.

It's been a week since you and Seungcheol have broken up. A week since he left to go back on tour, and a week since you've told him that you can't handle him leaving again.

You couldn't eat, or sleep, or let alone breathe ever since you left your shared apartment with a duffle bag of your things. Seungcheol insisted that you stay since he's going to be gone for a while anyway but you refuse. To be surrounded by your memories, by what could've been your future, was to torture yourself.

On the day that he flys out, you try to forget that he won't be in the same country as you. The members send you messages as well but you try to be brief in your messages in case they find a way to convince you to get back together with Seungcheol. You try to stay busy, but he seemed to live in your mind.

In the month that he was back in Seoul, you hardly got to see him. His schedule was so jam packed that he might as well have been overseas again. Most nights, sometimes well after midnight, you'd hear him come into your room. He'd press two kisses into your temple, and tell you that he loves you. You'd pretend to be asleep. You didn't want him to deal with you crying after being at work for long hours.

He leaves to sleep on the couch, so as to not disturb you.

In the morning he's gone once more.

You had a massive fight on the last night that Seungcheol was in the country. He tells you that he knows you've been pretending to sleep. You tell him that he should've slept in the same bed as you. You don't know what you want from him, since he can't do anything for you. It's a bitter truth that the both of you have to face. You're the one who brings up the idea of breaking up, and he doesn't stop you.

You don't want Seungcheol to deal with the ball and chain he's left back home. Seungcheol doesn't want you to deal with waiting around for him to return.

Now, an ever repeating cycle continues. You wake up, realize that you and Seungcheol have broken up. You give yourself a minute to cry, or just stare blankly at the bedroom wall. You remember that said wall doesn't belong to the home you had with him. You get out of bed, get ready for work, and then work. Sometimes you have dinner with friends or family. Other times, you have dinner alone. You go for walks, or play badminton. Badminton reminds you of Seungkwan, and thus reminds you of Seungcheol. You stop playing badminton.

Sometimes, the days are long. Those days are the days where the Seungcheol's absence are even more profound and you grieve what could have been your future with him. Other times, the days fly by and you wonder what you're doing with yourself.

On the tenth day since your breakup, you give in to the need to see Seungcheol. You open your social media for the first time in a while and are immediately presented with a fancam of Seungcheol from the night before.

The familiar chaos that is Aju Nice fills your room, as you watch Seungcheol interact with fans. He does his signature lopsided smile, looks into the camera, and sends a double kiss... It's unmistakable. He taps his lips twice, before swinging his arm out towards the camera.

'his energy seems a little down today... i hope he's okay :(', one of the replies say.

'scoups has been interacting with fans like crazy this time! i'm so jealous'

In another fancam, he tilts his head back, taps his lips twice with both of his hands and thrusts them towards the ceiling. Briefly, his face is cracked with vulnerability and remorse before it is fixed back into his charming, idol smile. Some will interpret it as him as thanking whatever deity for allowing him to live the life that he has. Really, he's just asking for a second chance.

Your heart twinges when you watch it happen. More than heartbreak, you feel the devastating guilt of breaking Seungcheol's heart when he's done nothing wrong.

What was the point of breaking up if you were happier together? But that's the thing isn't it? You wouldn't actually be with him. He's timezones away, and hardly around for you to truly feel like you're with him. You couldn't let yourself go through that. However, was not having him at all better than having pieces? Fragments?

Certainly, it hurt to be away from him during the first two months of tour. But now that you've broken up with no contact, the pain is even worse.

⟡

A week later, your phone lights up. You expect it to be your friends, or one of the members who’ve decided to call themselves ‘children of divorce’.

Instead, it’s Seungcheol. Your heart lurches at his name, and your mind shuffles through a million different reasons as to why he's texting you.

cheol 💕: hey, just checking in… how are you?

you: i’m good, how about you? how’s tour?

cheol 💞: could be better. tour’s been fun, just got to italy. the kids want to drag me to the colosseum so i can experience rome the way they did.

Your heart warms, knowing his members are taking good care of him. He tells you about what's been going on. You tell him about work, and what's going on with your own friends. It's like you haven't broken up at all, and you almost ask him to FaceTime before you remember that you're no longer entitled to that privilege.

Ten minutes of catching up quickly pass by before he has to leave. You immediately wonder if he'll text you again soon. Or if you should.

⟡

You're at Dongdaemun, doing some shopping for some new clothes. Retail therapy didn't work, but it was a nice distraction. You try not to think about what Seungcheol would think of the top you're holding up. He'd like it... Not that it matters. You throw the garment over your arm, deciding to buy it but not because your ex would like it.

Ex... You hate having to call him that. You haven't texted him since he reached out after the break up. You try not to be sad about it, you broke up with him after all.

Over your shoulder, you hear someone call your name.

"Mr Choi," you start in surprise.

"Please," his smile is warm. As if he doesn't know his son's heart is broken because of you. "I told you to call me abeoji. Dad."

"Abeoji," you correct yourself hesitantly.

“How are you? It’s been a while,” the man asks gently.

"I'm..." Broken, hollow. Irrevocably sorry for hurting Cheol. "Okay. How are you?"

"Could be better. I'm going to get myself something to drink. Would you care to join me?"

The cafe is located on the upper floors of Hyundai City Outlet. It overlooks the entrance to the building, and allows you to look at Dongdaemun Plaza. At night it's a beautiful sight.

"Seungcheol told me about what happened," Seungcheol's dad says, getting your attention.

Your heart skips a beat upon hearing Seungcheol's name. The hollowness in your chest deepens. Immediately you look down at the beverage in your hands, afraid to see the disdain you expect on his dad's face. "Oh. I-It was the hardest decision I've had to make. I want you to know that I didn't want to hurt him, but I think this is how things should be."

"I know, I warned him about this happening," Mr Choi responds.

You look up at him, and his smile is still warm. There's a tinge of sadness, or pity. But no hatred. The similarities between Seungcheol and his dad has your heart squeezing painfully. You miss him so much.

"I don't know how you do it. Having a son who is hardly there to see you..."

"The way I see it, my blood runs through him, so I'm with him wherever he is... My wife on the other hand? She's my other half. When we're apart, I can't even breathe. As Seungcheol's partner, you must be going through something similar.”

You note the way he doesn't say 'ex'.

"How is he?"

"Looks as heartbroken as you, probably feeling the same as well."

Nausea mixes with the guilt in your stomach. You don't know how to respond.

"I'm not telling you what to do, but wouldn't it be better to have him in your life than not at all?"

At your silence, he sighs and goes quiet for several beats. “His mother and I are flying out to watch his concert in LA in three weeks. If you want to come with us, we’ll get the company to organize something. He doesn’t even have to know. You can just go to see how you feel.”

“Abeoji…”

“His mother misses you, you know. If not for him, consider going for her. Call it a family trip.”

⟡

It’s been three weeks since you broke up with Seungcheol. On the days when your reserve is weak, you give in to watching recent fancams of his. Unfalteringly, he continues to do your signal.

He hasn’t forgotten you at all. The thought crushes you inside.

If you got back with him, what would have to change? You’ve been telling yourself that there was nothing either of you could do. Were you okay with dealing with the irregular schedules? The fans? All eyes on him?

You've come back to your apartment with the intent of picking up a change of clothes and doing some laundry. The left side of the closet has all of your things, while the right has Seungcheol's. You suck on your bottom lip in contemplation as you consider taking one of his jackets. It's not like he'd know since he'll be gone for another couple months.

Your broken heart encourages you to give in. So you do. You pull out one of his cardigans, your favorite, from the back of his stuffed closet. Your heart squeezes at the familiar scent, and you hug it to yourself. Then you hear the sound of something crinkling in the pocket.

It's a balled up piece of paper with faint pen markings. Flattening it out, your breath is drawn from your lungs.

All across the page are random words and scribbles, but they manage to make you choke out a sob nonetheless.

park?

restaurant?

holiday?

jewellers — ask uncle

sizing – to check

seungkwan sing? > Get tissues for him

diamond > check her ig and pin > bigger = better ㅋㅋ

family? private

mr and mrs choi

honeymoon locations?

mrs choi.

my wife ♡

⟡

The distant sound of screaming fans seem to embody how you're feeling perfectly in that moment. Eomeoni, Seungcheol's mother, has her arm linked with yours and her warmth, weight, and energy are grounding. Abeoji is next to her. The three of you are walking down the private hallway to enter the section with your seats.

Eomeoni sits between you and Seungcheol's dad, the woman constantly turning to you as if checking that you haven't run off yet. She places a warm hand on your knee, gently soothing your jittery leg.

Joshua's family comes to join your section, sitting in the row behind you. Josh's mom and Eomeoni appraise each other after being apart for so long. They turn to you.

Eomeoni leans in to say something to the other woman, but you can hardly hear because of the pre-show music blasting from the speakers. Whatever she says though, Josh's mom looks intrigued.

You introduce yourself to Joshua's mom and family just as the show begins. The show goes as well as it did back in Incheon. You notice minor differences, improvements that the guys have made after months of touring. You try to train your expression when you spot Seungcheol.

He doesn't do the double kiss for every song, but it takes your breath away every time he does. Your gaze flickers to his parents, and they hardly react. The signal really is something only for the two of you.

Towards the end of the show, you forget that you know the group personally and become absorbed as a Carat. You borrow Abeoji's light-stick and wave along to the songs. You laugh in delight as you jump with Seungcheol's parents to the encore song and translate the members' English ments for the non-English speaking family members.

Later on you can’t keep your eyes from the door of the waiting room. Waiting inside with Seungcheol and Joshua’s families, the conversations milling around you is all white noise.

“Mom!” Dokyeom wails as he spots you as soon as he steps inside. The others greet you with a mix of happiness, excitement, and apprehensiveness.

“You guys did really well,” you say as you grab the phone off Eomeoni, who silently gestured for you to take a photo of her and Abeoji with Chan and Seungkwan.

“Oh let me in too!” Dokyeom yelps as he stumbles into the frame.

You don’t even bother taking a photo with the members, too concerned about the one that is the sole reason you’re even here in the first place. So you sit in a corner of the room that has a set of sofas, joined by a couple of Joshua’s cousins.

You’re asking about one of the cousin’s outfit for a party they’re going to as you do a quick headcount of the boys, and of the managers. One manager missing, one member missing.

“Where is he?” You sigh to yourself.

“Doing leader stuff,” Mingyu says as he sits on the arm of the couch beside you. You smile at him in greeting and he pats your head softly, knowing why you’re here.

You sink into the sofa, letting your head fall back on the headrest of the couch and letting Mingyu’s large form block your view of the door.

He’ll come when he’s ready.

But then you hear the delighted exclamations of Eomeoni and you couldn’t stop your head from perking up even if you tried.

All sound fades as you watch Seungcheol enter the room. He’s smiling about something with the manager accompanying him as he rips out his in-ears and grabbing a water bottle from a nearby table. Then he spots his mother and his face lights up with the toothy grin that you haven’t seen in so long.

You can't stop the tears the well up, or the sudden tightness in your chest as it brims with emotion. The loss that you've managed to sweep under the rug is suddenly coming back to you full force.

He reunites with his parents, accepting their kisses and warm embraces. Abeoji rubs soothing circles into his child’s back, and Eomeoni has Seungcheol’s face in between her small hands.

Sound comes back to you while you watch the family of three catch-up.

Mingyu nudges you. “You gonna say hi or what?”

“Nope. I think I’ll hide.” You slump in your seat and duck your head behind Mingyu’s knee. You rub a soothing palm over your chest… Has your heart ever beaten this fast before?

Mingyu chuckles and gets up. You watch with growing horror as the tallest member approaches the Chois, clapping a hand to Seungcheol’s shoulder and muttering something into his ear. When your ex-boyfriend’s gaze darts over to where you sit, you smile awkwardly and then your eyes dart down into your lap to avoid seeing his reaction.

In your peripheral, with much fear, Seungcheol’s form slowly grows closer to you, until his feet are placed in front of yours and you can see his legs are standing in front of you. And then he squats down to look up at your face.

“Hello,” his voice is precious. It’s so full of warmth, and hope… And fear.

You look at him and suck in a breath. It’s been so long since you’ve been this close to him. His eyes gleam as they gaze up at you and his lips are spread thin in contemplation.

“Hi,” you whisper, sending him a timid smile.

“You wanna go somewhere to talk?”

You nod, despite the nerves that set in as soon as you hear his words. He stands up and offers you his hand, and you take it. As your palms meet and fingers slide into place, it’s like you’ve completed a jigsaw puzzle. All the pieces are fitting into place and your heart warms. How were you crazy enough to give up on this? On him?

Looking up, Seungcheol’s bittersweet smile seems to express the same sentiment.

⟡

1.5 YEARS LATER

“Whatcha doing?”

You pointedly rustle the magazine in front of your face. “Doing some light reading.”

“Oh yeah? What about? Looks interesting.”

“Yeah there’s this super hot idol who just announced his engagement to this amazing, stunning, angel-on-earth of a woman…”

“Wow, what a lucky man,” Seungcheol settles onto the sofa next to your feet, pulling them onto his lap.

“Seems like his fiancée’s the lucky one: ‘I’ve always said that my members and my family come first before anything else’,” you say in your best imitation of your future husband. He laughs then shoves your shoulder lightly.

The engagement band that he proudly wears on his left ring finger catches the light, and your chest never fails to warm at the sight.

In the fire-escape of the venue where Seungcheol just performed a sold-out concert with his group, the two of you sat on the stairs for what must've been an hour. In short, you both agreed to never go for that long without the other ever again. For the rest of your lives.

Things didn't work out immediately. For a few months, your relationship still struggled as the two of you worked out how best to go about your long-distance relationship, but when you figured it out? Oh, was it good.

At the end of that year, on Christmas Eve, Seungcheol proposed to you. It was adorable; the two of you bundled up in thick puffer jackets with wooly scarves and beanies and masks so that only your eyes were visible. You were taking a walk along the Han River, a ridiculous idea since it was winter, but the festive lights made it all worth it.

You cried as he bore his heart out to you, his beautiful round eyes glistening with tears. You knew that the hand holding up the little velvet wasn't trembling from the cold, but from nerves.

As soon as the ring slid onto your finger, Seungcheol was immediately tackled into a conveniently placed pile of snow nearby.

A little while after the proposal, you propose to Seungcheol as well. Call it feminism, or equality. Really, he just told you that he wanted an engagement ring of his own.

Immediately, news agencies hear tips about a peculiar silver band that never seems to part from Seventeen's S.Coup's ring finger. Fans notice his latest contents include him having a cute, dazed smile. His instagram posts always seem to feature a photo of his left hand.

The one thing that hasn't changed though, is that he continues to give you all of his double-kisses.

#svt #svt imagines #scoups x reader #choi seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seventeen scoups #seventeen seungcheol #seungcheol fanfic #scoups fanfic #scoups imagines #seungcheol images

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pushspacetocontinue · 1 day ago

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Leofric gave Willow a knowing nod.

"Yes, they certainly do, especially when those who have them got themselves involved in such nefarious dealings," Leofric said, "Esp-especially when not enough people saw what happened to know."

"As far as I'm aware, I won't know what happened," Bill said, before he then started to move to drag Ratchet back to the room, "Well in that case, we should probably get that plan implemented sooner rather than later."

Of course, they knew they couldn't discuss that in front of the Twins, just in case they really did go back to Five.

"It's all noted down," Simon said, "So right now, we can focus on having a rest before we start putting things into action."

"Good," Travis said, "I could certainly do with a rest. I think we all could."

"Possibly," Antonio said, his fingers drumming thoughtfully on the handle of his cane, before he went to follow Bill, just to make sure Ratchet was secure.

Even if he seemed out of it, there was always the chance he'd recover and try to escape again.

"We'll get him," Travis said, "And he's going to pay."

"I'm, I'm glad to, to hear that," Russell said with a small smile then, as he kept following Rook's actions, "And I, I think, I think I am too. I'm, I'm definitely do-doing better than, than I used to, and, and progress is, is progress."

Russell then nodded as he got on with those steps again. They were really coming together.

"This, this is, this is really good, good to know," Russell said, with a nod, as he then bent the paper and added some of the mixture as well. His hand was steady, and he nodded, "Yeah I, I can und-understand that, and, and then Five and, and his, his other mooks he's, he's got left won't, won't know what, what hit 'em."

Willow didn't look surprised, or about to complain about Leofric's answer. If he was enabling her, then she wasn't about to stop him.

The cyborg had a vicious fanged grin as she pulled a dart out of her pocket, "You're right. Accidents happen all the time."

Erica chuckled. It was always funny to watch Willow have a little fun. She clearly enjoyed the theatrics as much as she did the violence. "Then it's decided! We'll all tell Rook that it was an accident."

Not that Rook would mind too much anyway. Ratchet had hurt her as much as Five, he wasn't going to get away with it so easily.

"The plan was well thought out and we have a clear objective. Our chances of success are high, but we must be hasty with out preparations." Willow instructed, "There is still a possibility Five might eventually move to a new location now that we have thinned his ranks."

"And I would like to be done babysitting the pervert as soon as possible." Lucien added, "This should be a matter of days at best."

He would use that time to prepare well. Five was going to regret everything he had done to all of them.

"I am. And I hope you're healing too." Rook replied, "We have too many nice things going to worry about old bullshit."

Especially not while handling explosives. Rook kept an eye on what Russell was doing before showing a few more steps.

"You're doing alright. Now, this is going to be the shell. What I usually do at this point is bend it like this and I add in some of this stuff here."

She carefully poured some of the mixture.

"So this is basically it. It's ready to be used, but it isn't very easy to hold like this. So the next step is to wrap it up all nice to avoid any spills and tape it shut so we can store it until we're going to use them."

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crazycat010 · 3 days ago

Text

Jealousy Jealousy

Levi Ackerman x Reader

Based on the song "Jealousy Jealousy" by Olivia Rodrigo.

Warnings: insecurities, angst, sad, small fluff, reader loses her friend because of a new girl named Natasha (sorry if that's your name), unrequited love, mention of death and sacrificing yourself for Humanity's sake. Sad angsty ending but I'll do a part 2 if you want.

Reader insert, no reference to reader's body so it can be seen as female, gender neutral and male reader

"All your friends are so cool, you go out every night In your daddy's nice car, yeah, you're living the life Got a pretty face, a pretty boyfriend too I wanna be you so bad, and I don't even know you"

“Y/n?”

“Earth to Y/n?”

“Y/NNNN!” Hange yelled, pulling you out of your daydream.

“Sh!t sorry. I zoned out, again.” You explained yourself, trying to look anywhere but in your friend’s eyes.

“It’s what you’ve been doing this whole week. Just ask him out already!” She whisper-yelled.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” You replied stubbornly.

“C’mon Y/n, you’ve liked him since you first met him! If you don’t tell him how you feel now, you may never get the chance to!” Petra added.

“Thanks a lot you guys…” You said, slumping back in your seat lazily. How were you supposed to tell him, your Captain, Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, The Levi Ackerman, you were in love with him and had been for years now. You’d probably just make it weird and ruin your friendship with him, because no way in hell did he reciprocate your feelings.

“You know what? If you’re not going to tell him, I will!” Hange said resolute and determined to end your suffering. She had been your best friend since you’d graduated from being simple Cadets and knew better than anyone how much you were actually worth though also how much you thought lowly of yourself because of your insecurities and negative thoughts.

“WHAT?! NO!” You didn’t notice you’d raised your voice until you realized everyone was staring at you.

Your face became beet red as you waved it off with a small “Don’t worry, everything’s fine. We’re all fine.” Successfully getting everyone to go back to what they were previously doing.

“I wasn’t lying before, I’ll tell him if you don’t.” She went back to whispering, drawing your attention back to the stressful topic.

“Okay, okay fine. I’ll tell him! I just, need to get us a moment together, the perfect moment. I’ll think about it tomorrow, when I go to my parents’ house.”

Your friends, including Mike, Oluo, Eld and Gunther, high-fived each other victoriously, but were quick to act nonchalant as soon as they saw their Captain approaching you.

“What’s happening? I heard some commotion coming from here just minutes ago.” He asked, eyeing you all with his usual scowl.

Suddenly, your shoes became a very interesting view as Hange quickly answered: “Don’t worry Captain. Nothing happened! Y/n here was just…telling us about a few hand-to-hand combat techniques and discussing them with the team.”

He glanced at your petrified form questioningly, but swiftly came to the decision it was not an important matter.

“Anyways, I wanted to tell you, tomorrow a new member will be joining the Levi Squad, I want you all to welcome her but most importantly make sure to get along with her.” He continued.

You and the rest of the team stared at each other with a shocked expression on your face, though Petra was the first to speak up: “You referred to the new member with a her, so I suppose she’s a girl. Who is she?”

“Yeah, and when will we meet her?” Eld chimed in.

“Her name is Natasha and you’ll all meet her tomorrow morning at training, the rest, you can ask her for yourself.” He answered before retreating back to his office to finish writing the last papers before going to bed.

“Well, that’s new…” Eld said.

“Who even is she? I mean, she must be great with her skills and everything if Levi accepted her in our team.” Oluo said.

“I guess we’ll find out tomorrow. You don’t know anything about this, do you Hange?” Gunther sighed, running a hand through his neatly combed hair.

“I’m just as surprised as you are. How about you Mike?” The scientist returned the question to the silent blonde.

“Don’t look at me! I know about this just as much as you do.” He raised his hands in the air defensively.

“So she’s suddenly joining the team, nobody knows about her and Levi promptly refuses to tell us anything. She sure was able to become the center of attention before even coming.” Erd said.

“Hey Y/n, you okay?” Hange questioned you.

You had zoned out again…This Natasha girl sounded quite mysterious, but most of all, you weren’t accustomed to Levi’s eyes subtly lighting up when he talked about someone.

“Yeah, yeah don’t worry. I’m just tired, that’s all. In fact, I think I’mma head to bed, anybody coming with?” You got up from your seat lazily.

“Nah. I still have a few hours left to enjoy in me. See you in two days, right?” Gunther replied for everyone.

“Yeah.” You walked alone to your bedroom as unanswered questions swirled through your mind, mostly regarding Natasha and Levi. You pushed them down though, because they surely weren’t gonna ruin your free day with your parents.

The next day you woke up early and headed to town, where your parents owned a bakery. Your family’s apartment was right over it and you could still recall how much you used to help your parents when they were at work, sometimes getting scolded for not wanting to go to bed. You didn’t spend as much time there now, but Levi usually left you a few free days per month to visit your parents, and you sometimes also brought the rest of your team with you to have a hearty meal by the fireplace.

As always, your parents were marveled to see you and the day flew by too quickly. In the blink o an eye, you were back at the Scout’s, going to bed earlier than usual because of the tiredness caused by all the riding.

The next day, you were woken up by a ray of sunshine seeping through your window and illuminating the room.

You saw your companion Petra soundly sleeping on the bed on the other side of the room, so you dressed yourself without making any noise and walked your way to the stables.

“Hello Grass Goblin!” You saluted your hooved friend smirking happily. Her real name was Lily, in honor of the beautiful flowers you put in her hair when you braided it, but you’d had her for so much time you had become besties to the point the nickname rolled off your tongue more naturally than her real name.

You brought your horse out for a ride, fed her and combed her hair into a beautiful braid with a few flowers tucked in between.

Before you’d realized, it wast time for you to go to training, which meant you’d finally get to meet this mysterious Natasha.

You were sure you had arrived on time, nonetheless, the moment you stepped into the training area you found your team, Levi and an unfamiliar blondie chatting loudly and carelessly, as if they had been friends since forever.

To say this whole situation weirded you out was an understatement: your teammates had taken days or even months to warm up to you, and if Levi talked to you now it was only thanks to the years of hard work and missions done for and with him. Nonetheless, they had become best friends with this new chick in what, a day and a half? From where you stood, you could also see Levi smiling. Okay, what? Like, you didn’t even think the word “smile” existed in his vocabulary and suddenly he was there, grinning ear to ear in the face of this new kid?!

You approached the laughing group in a matter of minutes with a weird: “Hey guys!”

The moment they saw you, they all shut up and stopped laughing, turning to look at their shoes or share strange looks with each other.

You shrugged it off: focusing on this situation wouldn’t bring you any good and you still had to figure out a way to talk to Levi about your feelings.

Levi spoke up: “So, for today’s training we’ll divide the team into pairs and do some exercises in the woods. Form the pairs and go grab your horses, we’ll meet there in 10. Oh, and Gunther, you’re coming with me.”

Gunther visibly slumped, shoulders dropping as he prepared himself mentally for hours of scoldings and glares from his Captain.

As soon as Levi was out of range, you hit Gunther lightly in the shoulder, telling him ironically: “C’mon man, wasn’t it your dream to work with the Levi Ackerman?”

“Yeah, until I actually started working with him! He scolds me so much I wouldn’t be surprised if he got angry with me because of my favorite color.”

“What’s your favorite color?” You asked him, heading to the stables once again.

“Blue, yours?”

“Don’t really have one. I like all bright colors equally, though it depends on the day.”

“You know what? I ain’t even gonna ask you questions. Learned my lesson over the years.” He laughed, departing to go get his horse.

Oluo and Erd had formed a pair, and you saw Petra chatting with Anastasia on the other side of the stables, so you went to ask her: “Hi Anastasia! Hi Petra! Would you like to be in pair with me for the exercises?”

“Sorry Y/n, I’m already with Anastasia and we can’t be in three…” She tried to explain herself.

“Because…?” What was up with her? Levi always let you form groups of three with another teammate whenever someone was missing.

“Because we can’t, okay? Stop asking dumb questions!” She basically hissed at you, annoyed.

Okay, what was happening? You’re away for what, a night and a couple of hours and they all hate you out of the blue? You watched as the two girls got on their horses, giggling like two teenage girls and rode off, not even bothering to wait for you.

A wave of sadness washed over you, and you could feel tears welling up in your eyes, yet you took all your strong will and pushed them back, not wanting to show the vulnerable side of you for idiotic situations like this. You had always been very emotional, and nobody before your team and Hange had ever gone out of their way to help you or talk to you. When you’d joined the Cadets you were pretty much of a loner, but Hange had managed to get you out of your shell and you’d learned how to make friends, eventually leading to you befriending the infamous ‘Levi Squad’.

However, you were probably overthinking it all, as usual. Your friends wouldn’t possibly leave you just like this, with no warning or reason whatsoever, right?

You headed to the woods’ entrance, were the rest of your team was awaiting you.

“So, are all the pairs formed?” Levi asked.

“Yeah” Everybody answered, except for you, though he didn’t notice it and went off to explain the exercises to everyone.

The training had been agonizingly long and painful and, as soon as sundown approached, you were all eager to get off your horses, eat something and skedaddle to bed as quickly as possible.

“Hey guys, how about we all have dinner together?” You suggested.

“Sorry Y/n, but me and Natasha wanted to eat together and then chat for a bit.” Petra apologized.

“No can do, me and the boys are going in town. Sorry.” Erd answered.

“Oh…Okay. That’s fine, it’s absolutely fine. I-I mean, it’s not like we don’t already see each other every day right?” You said awkwardly.

Petra offered you an apologetic smile and then went off with her new friend, the boys getting their horses to the stables.

You didn’t exactly know what you would do that night, but perhaps you could wait for Hange to finish her shift at the Lab and have dinner with her.

After hours spent wandering around the huge building, it was finally the time of the end of her shift, so you ran to her study eager to tell her about your day and hear about hers, as you did almost every night.

“Hangeeeee!!!” You exclaimed, barging into her room with a big smile plastered on your face, excitement etched all over your features.

“Hey Y/n!” She responded. There was something off about the way she was acting, and you’d noticed how she was way less happy to see you than usual, so you decided to investigate: “What’s up with you today?”

“Listen Y/n, I’m truly sorry. I know you’ve been waiting for me to finish this job for hours so we could eat together, but I already had something planned tonight and I really don’t want to miss it. You wouldn’t mind if we skipped today’s daily catch up, right?” She pleaded.

You were taken aback, what has happening? You’re absent for a day and suddenly nobody can eat or spend time with you?

“So…?” She asked again, seeing as you’d zoned out.

“Y-yeah yeah, ’s fine don’t worry.” You gave her a tight lipped smile, shutting the door behind you and going outside on a walk to clear your mind.

The next few days were spent like this, everyone seemingly avoiding your presence. Hange had started having more and more plans at dinner so you never actually got to talk, and the rest of your team were just ignoring you, making up fake excuses in order to not spend time with you. However, you’d noticed how they always regrouped with Natasha. One day, you decided you wanted to get to know this new girl, and with only good intentions in your heart, you approached her while she chatted with Petra and Hange. What you didn’t expect, however, was the side eye she gave you, chuckling under her breath and asking: “Who’re you?”

“I’m Y/n, one of your teammates.” You answered.

“Really? Didn’t think Levi would ever choose a comrade so ugly and annoying.” She continued, though facing your two ex-friends now: “C’mon girls. Have you ever seen her actually do anything? She spends all the training just drooling at our Captain.”

You looked at her in utter confusion, turning to your friends as Hange grabbed your wrist and dragged you away from the pathetic blondie.

“Who the fuck does she think she is?” You hissed.

“Hey Y/n, calm down, you’re overreacting. I swear she’s nice, you just need to get used to her.”

“So what, you’re like defending her now?” You scoffed, not wanting to believe your best friend of a lifetime was turning against you.

“Why? Can’t I? She’s my friend.” Hange replied.

“You’re my friend too!” You spat back.

She didn’t say anything, so you took that as your cue to leave.

You locked yourself in your room and didn’t get out for hours, crying and sobbing because it suddenly felt like you were unwanted and unloved, just like the first time you’d come here.

You needed some fresh air, so you decided to head out for a ride with Lily. Just as you got out of the building, you heard some loud chatter and a faint smell of marshmallows coming from the other side of the building.

You followed the noise, realizing it came from the porch were you usually ate dinner around a fire with your friends, before the whole Natasha-thing happened.

You hid behind a pillar, recognizing all your friends’ voices, trying to recompose yourself in order to go see what all this was about without letting your troubled side show.

The first thing you saw were your friends in a circle, rounded around a fire, roasting marshmallow on wooden sticks. The next thing, though, is what hurt you the most: Natasha was sitting on a boy’s lap, kissing him passionately, her marshmallow long forgotten on the ground. As they separated themselves to catch their breath, giggling like high schoolers, you recognized your Captain and love of a lifetime as the one who was kissing her. He was looking at her so affectionately, completely focused on her and with a love sick look in his eyes you’d never seen him with.

Is this what your friends had been doing every night behind your back?

Tears streaming down your face, you stomped in the area, all your friends suddenly noticing your presence as the chatter ended in a matter of seconds.

Nobody dared to look at your fiery eyes, opting to look at the ground instead.

“What is this?” You broke the silence, venom in your words.

Hange was the first one to get up, trying to get your wrist like she always did when she wanted you to calm down. “Y/n please.”

“Oh don’t you Y/n me! You hung out together, leaving me out for all this time, not even once thinking about asking me to join, when I’ve been inviting you to eat together every single day.” You said, words latched with anger.

“We can explain, please Y/n!” She pleaded you, but you slapped her hand off of you, repelled by her.

“No, we don’t need to explain ourselves to her, do we guys?” Natasha had rose up to her feet, facing you with a smug smirk.

“She’s right Y/n. Can’t we have other friends? Or do we have to spend every second of our lives with you?” Petra argued, going to stand by her new friend.

“Spend every…What the heck you guys? I’m away for one day and you all suddenly hate me?” You were trying as hard as you could to not let your emotions get in the way, but it was noticeable how your voice had cracked mid-sentence.

“We don’t hate you Y/n. We’re just tired…” Gunther answered lazily, not tearing his gaze away from his half burnt marshmallow.

“Of what Gunther? Tired of what?”

“Of you Y/n! Don’t you understand? They’re all sick of you trying to always be the center of attention, you’re useless and you act so childishly and god, you’re so damn emotional!” Natasha said.

You simply stared at them, tears pooling in your eyes and body trembling as your mind wasn’t able to register what was happening. All your greatest fears were coming to life: your friends had turned their back on you and hated you with all their guts. They’d eventually leave you and you’d become the same lonely loser you always had been.

“We’re sorry we had to break it to you this way, but she’s right, Y/n. We’re tired of you.” Erd finally spoke up, his voice lacking the usual warmth you once found comfort in.

It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. Your chest tightened, a suffocating weight pressing down on you. Their words rang in your ears, over and over again, slicing through you like a thousand tiny blades.

Your lips parted, but no words came out—just a sharp inhale, like a drowning person gasping for breath. Your fingers clenched into fists at your sides, trying to steady yourself, but it was pointless. The trembling wouldn’t stop.

Then, your eyes found him.

Levi stood there, arms crossed, his usual unreadable expression in place. He hadn't spoken, hadn’t even looked at you properly. But what shattered you completely was what he didn’t do—he didn’t defend you. Not once.

Because he didn’t care.

Not about you. Not like you had hoped.

Not like he did for her.

Natasha was standing close to him, too close, her hand brushing against his arm as she smirked at you, victorious. And Levi let it happen. He let her claim him, let her act like she belonged by his side.

A choked sob escaped before you could stop it. You felt the tears spill over, warm against your cheeks as your body moved on its own.

You ran.You pushed past them, ignoring Hange’s desperate call of your name, ignoring the sting of their words echoing in your mind.

Your feet carried you blindly through the hallways of the barracks, past flickering candlelight and empty corridors, until you reached the safety of your dorm.

Slamming the door shut behind you, you collapsed onto your bed, burying your face in your pillow as the sobs wracked your body.

You had never felt more alone.

You had lost them.

And worst of all… you had lost him.

The next day you woke up with a throbbing headache, eyes puffy from all the crying and snot filling your nostrils.

You sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the ground, your heart heavy and tight. You could hear their voices outside your room—Levi and Natasha laughing, talking easily. Your stomach twisted.

The sound of it was enough to send you spiraling into a pit of self-doubt.

You’d spent so much time pushing those feelings down. Trying to convince yourself you were strong, that you weren’t someone to get lost in jealousy, but now, it was impossible to ignore.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to shut out the thoughts that swirled in your mind. Natasha was everything you weren’t. Beautiful. Confident. Easy to talk to. And Levi... Levi always looked at her like she was perfect. You could see it, even when Natasha wasn’t around. It was the way he smiled when she walked into a room, the way his gaze lingered just a little too long.

He’d never look at you like that.

Your fingers ran through your hair, the weight of the realization sinking in. The truth you refused to see until now was clear. Levi would never love you the way he loved Natasha. He wouldn’t even have to think twice about it. Natasha had everything—beauty, grace, strength. All you had were scars, insecurities, and the weight of your own broken heart.

You’d never been able to see yourself the way Levi saw you, and now... now you didn’t know how to make him see you differently. You weren’t enough. You were never going to be enough.

Your breath hitched as you looked in the mirror. Your reflection was a stranger—a girl who had tried so hard to fit in, to pretend she was something she wasn’t, to make herself worthy of the things she could never have. You weren’t Natasha. You’d never be Natasha.

Your fingers brushed the scars that marked your skin—physical reminders of all the things you’d lost, all the parts of yourself you could never get back.

And then there was Levi.

You knew you could never ask him to choose you over Natasha. Natasha was everything you weren’t. She had beauty that drew people in, confidence that made everyone love her. You didn’t have that. You were just... ordinary, bruised, broken.

"He doesn’t love me," you whispered under your breath, your voice barely audible. "He loves her.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, and you hated yourself for feeling this way, for being so weak, for letting your insecurities get the best of you. But it was undeniable. Every time you saw the way Levi looked at Natasha, you couldn’t help but feel like you were competing with a version of yourself you could never reach.

Your heart felt like it was cracking. Maybe you’d fooled yourself into thinking he could love you.

Maybe he did, but he would always love Natasha more.

Your chest tightened, the tears starting to blur your vision. You wiped them away angrily.

No, you couldn’t be this girl. You couldn’t let jealousy take over. But the truth was clear now. Levi would never see you the way you wanted him to.

With an agonizingly slow pace, you got ready for today’s mission: you and the rest of the Levi Squad were going to head out of the Walls. You couldn’t leave now, not when the formation included you as a spotter for Titans, but perhaps you could free them of your presence after the mission.

You didn’t go to breakfast, stomach closed and eating having become only a small problem at the end of the list of the things you had to fix, or end, in this case.

With an empty look in your eyes, you headed to the stables, finding your teammates also getting ready for the mission.

They were silent, though for once, you didn’t want to break the silence. You started to realize how much it was valuable: it wasn’t something you needed to fill anymore, but something that filled you.

You sensed their apologetic looks, Natasha’s victorious smile and Levi’s usual cold yet troubled gaze, but you kept your eyes trained on the ground in front of you, or on the surrounding land once you were out of the walls.

As you were returning after a long day of scouting, a group of Titans approached you, running at an insane speed.

“They’re catching up on us!” Petra exclaimed, terror filling the senses of you all.

“What do we have to do Levi?” Natasha asked her new boyfriend.

“We have to keep riding, let’s hope we can reach the walls in time.” He replied.

“We’re never gonna make, they’re running way faster than usual!” Erd said.

“The Captain told us to keep riding, so shut up and do what you’ve been ordered to!” Gunther scolded you, putting everyone back in position.

Suddenly, the Walls came into view: you’d made it, you were going to live!

Your hope was quick to die however, as you looked back and saw the Titans at barely miles apart. They would have reached you before you could make it back.

You were all going to die! You had to do something!

You took a long breath, a peaceful smile appearing on your face.

“Why are you smiling? We’re going to die!” Petra asked you, worried.

“No you’re not. You’re not going to die today…” You’d made your decision, yet deep down, you’d always known. You loved your friends and cared about them too deeply to let them die at the hands of such monstrous creatures. Even though they had all been little sh!ts to you in the past few days, they were all the most loving and caring souls one could find inside the walls. Without looking back, they’d offered their lives, sacrificing their future for a greater good, in order to save Humanity, even though nobody was there to save them. They were skilled warriors and Humanity would already have been destroyed it it weren’t for their work. They were far more valuable than you were, and Humanity couldn’t lose them. You would rather have them and your parents alive but sad, than everybody dead because you didn’t have the courage to do what needed to be done.

“Just know that, I love you guys, and I’ll always carry you in my heart, no matter what you’ve done or said. Oh, and tell my parents I love them too, alright?” You continued your last speech, realization dawning over your friends as they looked back at you in horror.

Too late did they start yelling your name, for you’d already slowed down your horse to a walk, turning to face the group of beasts.

“Keep riding! She’s saving us! Don’t let her sacrifice be in vain.” Levi yelled, urging his horse and companions forward, closer to the walls and further from their friend.

You watched as they disappeared from your view, nothing but little black dots in a sea of green, a few tears trailing down your chin.

This was it, the end. If you’d known you would’ve died so soon, you probably would’ve hugged your parents tighter that day, but it was too late to regret your choices now. Your time had arrived, you may be forgotten, but you would have done your job to keep humanity safe for a bit longer. A determined look fell on your face, as you turned around to face the Titans. You were going to die, you were sure of it, but you sure as heck weren’t going down without a fight!

Hiii! Thank you so much for reading! I hope you've appreciated this post. I'll start working on Part 2 as soon as possible but do tell if you have any specific requests! You're more than welcome to come check out my account with my other posts and/or make requests(MASTERLIST). Do NOT plagiarize this or any of my content.

Love you guys! See you soon!😘

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