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poppy-pelican · 4 years ago

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Holding Out (Makes It Better) - fic

Rating: Explicit (because of course it is)

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist

Summary: “Why don’t we make a…competition of it?” Roy said, standing up like he was going to give orders. “A…team building exercise, if you will.” His eyes drifted to Hawkeye, giving her a meaningful look that he hoped conveyed: back me up on this or else.

Mustang's team bonds over who can keep from touching themselves the longest.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26021110

“While I trust my team, I have been noticing…” Roy hesitated, adjusting the phone against his ear.

“A lack of cohesion?” Hughes offered.

Much more diplomatic than sibling rivalry. Roy had recently been granted permission to choose officers for his own team—a sure sign a promotion was on the way this year. But the last time they had to work together as a unit, Hawkeye and Havoc disagreed on tactics, Falman kept piping in with more information than necessary, Breda was too easy going and let the others walk all over him, and Fuery hunkered down like a child whose parents were fighting.

It felt wrong to go to Hughes for help, but Hughes had a way of forming tight-knit groups with ease. While Roy could say his team members trusted him, they certainly did not trust each other.

“Yes, exactly,” Roy said.

“It can take time,” Hughes said. “But you could try some team building exercises?”

“Is that what you do?”

Hughes was muffled for a minute. It sounded like he was kissing Gracia. Again. Roy sighed. The man was impossibly shameless.

“Ah, yes, that’s what I do. Something that loosens them up—you have to get them comfortable with one another.”

“Can you be more specific?”

More suspicious giggling and kissing noises again. “I dunno, play a game. Have a friendly competition?”

A team building exercise. Roy was going to have to sit on that one.

Another giggle. “And that’s my cue, you crazy exhibitionist! Goodnight!” Roy yelled, hanging up the phone forcefully.

A couple weeks later, Roy had almost forgotten about Hughes’s idea. The office was silent except for the quiet hum of his officers at work. Then Hawkeye excused herself, and suddenly the men were talking and joking. Oh. His intimidating lieutenant. The men were afraid of her.

He couldn’t blame them. Hadn’t she terrified him a little even as a young girl? She’d always been a little too serious, watchful and quiet. But of everyone in his team, he trusted her the most. Maybe he should consider Hughes’s idea again. He wanted them all to trust her as much as he did, and see the fun side of her that made him like her so much.

Then he tuned into what his men were actually saying.

“And you’d just had sex the night before? What’s wrong with you?” Falman said, laughing.

“It’s relaxing!” Havoc insisted. “It’s a daily ritual kind of thing. Takes the edge off.”

“Daily? I can manage once a week, easy, especially with a woman in my life,” Falman insisted.

Breda chuckled. “I’m not like Havoc, but I prefer more often, even with a girlfriend helping me out.”

“See, Breda supports me!”

“I still wouldn’t be doing it the morning after a night with my girlfriend!” Breda said, slapping the desk and laughing boisterously.

Roy’s brow furrowed. Were they talking about what he thought?

“I don’t think I’ve been able to go more than a week since I hit puberty,” Havoc said. “I’m a healthy young man.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Roy finally interrupted.

“Havoc’s girlfriend—now ex-girlfriend—walked in on him…you know,” Fuery offered, his face bright red.

Roy snorted, happy to ignore his paperwork to tease Havoc. “What? You forget how to lock a door?”

Havoc turned red. “It was early in the morning! I thought she was asleep.”

“Clearly, she awoke frustrated. Did you even take care of her needs, Havoc?” Roy couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“I always leave my woman satisfied,” Havoc growled.

“Maybe if you weren’t molesting yourself every day, you’d have more passion for your girlfriend,” Breda pointed out. “Pace yourself, man.”

“I could go without it if I needed to. You all would crack long before me if it were a contest.” Havoc crossed his arms, the picture of perfect confidence.

“You think so?” a feminine voice challenged.

Hawkeye stood in the doorway, her face expressionless.

“How long have you been standing there, lieutenant?” Roy asked, noting he wasn’t the only man in the office vainly attempting to play it cool. While Hawkeye was as good a soldier as anyone, probably better, this kind of crude conversation always starkly reminded everyone she was a woman as much as a soldier.

Hawkeye strolled over to her desk. “Long enough to know I shouldn’t set Havoc up with any of my friends.”

The men guffawed and cheered, except for Havoc who collapsed on his desk. And that’s when Roy realized he had an opportunity.

“Why don’t we make a…competition of it?” Roy said, standing up like he was going to give orders. “A…team building exercise, if you will.” His eyes drifted to Hawkeye, giving her a meaningful look that he hoped conveyed: back me up on this or else.

“What do you mean, sir?” Hawkeye asked, everything from her eyebrow to her stiff shoulders giving away her heavy skepticism.

“Who can hold out the longest?” Roy said, tapping his chin. “Havoc has made quite the challenge to the rest of us.”

Havoc sat up straight. “I could definitely outlast all of you. I am a disciplined sniper.”

“So is Hawkeye,” Falman said.

“Is Hawkeye participating?” Fuery asked, his cheeks now the color of a strawberry.

This was just more evidence Hughes was right. The team needed to get more comfortable with one another—particularly with their lone female officer. They needed to fear who Hawkeye was as a soldier, not as a woman.

Roy turned to his lieutenant, gesturing for her to answer. All eyes were on her. She gave Roy a steely look before rolling her eyes. “Sure, I’m in.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Is that fair?” Havoc asked. “Women can naturally hold out longer than men.”

Roy told himself not to think about how often Hawkeye was pleasuring herself as he answered.

“All right, not holding out the longest, but who can hold out until a certain date,” he amended.

“How long?” Breda asked. “And does sex count?”

Roy began to pace the floor, his mind flowing with ideas. He was going to have to make up a chart. And they needed strict rules. It could be very unofficially official. Hughes would be proud.

“Sex will count. What seems a reasonable goal?” he asked, tossing the problem out for his team to solve. He could admit he was more like Breda and indulged himself several times a week. The idea of holding out for more than a week sounded like a small torture, but just a week wouldn’t be challenging enough.

“Two weeks,” Havoc proposed.

“Two weeks? What a flimsy challenge,” Falman said. “I’ll crush you.”

“Three?” Fuery suggested, though he made a face as he said it.

Breda looked around, studying his teammates and superior officer with a critical gaze. Roy wondered if he was sizing up the competition. Roy was already sweating at the idea of two weeks. Three would be unbearable.

“Three sounds reasonable,” Falman agreed.

“But perhaps a tad too easy,” Breda said, rubbing his hand over his short hair. “A month would be a challenge for everyone, wouldn’t it?” Gazes flickered to Hawkeye, who sat primly with her hands folded on her desk, like this was any old team meeting. She would destroy them all.

“A month it is,” Roy said.

“What do we get if we win?” Hawkeye asked, still diplomatic. Her lips pulled into a tiny smile. “It needs to be worth the trouble, right? But not so much that anyone would be tempted to cheat.”

“So money’s out,” Breda said decisively, and the others agreed with surprising speed. A soldier’s pension was laughably meager, especially for anyone lower on the totem pole. Roy knew he was fortunate to have a state alchemist’s funding, but it had come with strings attached.

“I’ve got it!” Roy said, grinning. “We have two teams. And we do it for the honor of winning.”

“That could work,” Hawkeye said thoughtfully.

Then began a debate that lasted twenty minutes on who would be on which team. Everyone wanted to be on Hawkeye’s team, but the competition needed to be as strong as possible. Based purely on personality, rather than any real data, it was finally decided that Mustang’s team would have Falman and Breda, while Hawkeye’s opposing team included Fuery and Havoc. If she thought it was unfair, she didn’t say so.

Riza thought the entire competition was unfair. She knew what her ridiculous superior was thinking. The men were uncomfortable with her, and her participating in their stupid contest would help. Maybe it would, maybe it wouldn’t, but she was annoyed.

Perhaps she was different from other women because she touched herself every night to help her fall asleep. It started a few months after returning from Ishval when she discovered her nightmares improved if she relaxed with happy—dirty—thoughts before bed.

But she was a disciplined sniper, she could hold off for a month. She just didn’t want to.

She slipped into the t-shirt she wore to bed and then did a few stretches she’d read would help her maintain her mobility despite the extensive scarring on her back. The tightness of her skin across those two patches had become as normal as the tug of her hair clips, but she needed to have full motion whenever she acted as Mustang’s bodyguard.

She finished with a few last neck stretches before she rolled into bed, turning off the lamp before she snuggled under the covers. Realizing this would be the last time to touch herself until the competition ended, she decided to take more time with it than she usually would. Tugging her underwear down, she slipped one hand between her thighs, the other hand crept underneath her shirt.

If she were honest with herself, she wanted to replay Mustang’s passionate, definitely inappropriate, brainstorming session. How he could sound so calm and professional while discussing masturbation in front of his team, she didn’t know, but even with the almost clinical nature of it, she’d felt warm and achy listening to him speak.

She wondered if he was a dirty talker in the bedroom, and she found herself falling over the edge much too quickly, thinking of what he might whisper against her ear while he thrusted in and out of her.

With a pleased sigh, she wriggled her underwear back into place and fell immediately into a deep sleep.

The next morning at the office, Riza was horrified to find a chalkboard had been rolled into the room. Mustang’s sharp handwriting had filled in a surprisingly vague chart with two columns for each team. Beside each team member’s name was a place to mark them out. At the bottom of the chart he’d written out the end date in bold lettering. She pressed her lips together. Thirty days had never seemed so long.

But as the men started arriving, she put on her poker face. She had to pretend this wasn’t a hardship whatsoever.

There was very little discussion about the competition. The first day should be a breeze, so no one expected anyone to crack so soon. They had a meeting about a possible money laundering case coming from Grumman, which would be a great opportunity to prove themselves as an efficient new team. Then Riza left for a committee on recruitment she attended as Mustang’s representative. It was such a humdrum, typical day that by the time work was over, she almost forgot about the competition entirely. She went to the library, cooked dinner, called Rebecca to chat, began reading one of the books she borrowed…

It wasn’t until she was dressing for bed that she remembered. She groaned, flopping onto the bed in frustration. The fact she shouldn’t touch herself just made her want to even more. Cursing Mustang under her breath, she turned off the lamp and lay stiffly in the dark, failing to relax.

It was hours later before she finally fell asleep.

The second day of the competition and Roy already had regrets. He woke up with an erection, as often happened in the mornings, but this time he had to wait for the damn thing to go away on its own.

His regrets grew when Falman came into the office, red-faced and staring at the ground. He strode straight to the chalkboard and drew an X beside his name.

“What! You’re already out?” Havoc crowed.

“Really, Falman, I’m disappointed in you,” Roy said, shaking his head. Now it was just him and Breda. “Do you at least have a good excuse?”

Falman saluted. “The new neighbor next to my apartment must have had her boyfriend over, sir. She was…very loud and enthusiastic.”

Roy grimaced. “Dismissed.” He could understand why a man would be tempted, but with his discipline as a soldier being tested…it was disappointing. He glanced over at Hawkeye and Havoc who were sharing a laugh—probably at Falman’s expense.

Falman was at his desk, determinedly reading a report. Roy look over at Breda who raised a fist in solidarity. Just the two of them against Hawkeye, Havoc, and Fuery. It was going to be a long month.

By day seven, Roy spent every morning talking down his erection, and giving himself quick, cold showers. The temptation was growing intolerable. What kind of stupid team building exercise was this! Certainly the dumbest idea he’d ever had. Rather than fostering teamwork, everyone, except Falman, was snappy and irritable. Even Hawkeye, which Roy found wonderfully intriguing. No, he definitely couldn’t spend time dwelling on that can of worms.

“I’m going to the shooting range if anyone wants to join me,” Hawkeye announced suddenly. “Havoc, Fuery,” her lips curved upward, “A gun is a good way to…release some tension.”

Chairs squeaked and knocked around as the men dropped everything to join her, everyone laughing as Falman waved them off good-naturedly. The smug bastard.

Hawkeye was fierce on the shooting range, only Havoc coming close to her level—and still well below it. Roy took a turn, but found himself stepping back to watch as the men cheered and clapped whenever she hit another seemingly impossible target. Roy knew Hawkeye took little pride in her skill after the war, but it was good for the men to respect her ability. Judging by the way young Fuery gaped in amazement, maybe the team building exercise wasn’t a total bust.

Roy stayed quiet on their walk back to the office, listening to the men pepper her with questions. Hawkeye answered them succinctly, without boasting, about her skills and how she had honed them growing up shooting cans and one time, a rather rotten pumpkin.

Roy remembered the pumpkin story as her father had told it, and he noted that Hawkeye didn’t mention him—or Roy for that matter. It gave him pause. Did she not want the men knowing of their history? He supposed as his subordinate, she probably preferred to put forward her merits rather than her connections. Funny, because Roy would never have become a state alchemist without her, and he likewise kept that a secret—for different reasons.

Riza was exhausted, which she would’ve thought would help her fall asleep. Instead, she tossed and turned, body restless. As soon as she found the edge of sleep, she jerked awake.

“Mustang, you idiot,” she groaned, punching her pillow. She couldn’t lose this competition, even if it meant a month of sleep deprivation. Twisted in her sheets, she was oh-so-tempted to give in, especially as she remembered the way Mustang had removed his jacket at the shooting range, only his white button-up shirt on. Thank goodness she was already at the range, she had had a lot of tension to release.

Punching her pillow again, she gave up an turned on the light, pulling out a book. She read until she passed out.

Riza wasn’t the only one on edge that night, and in the morning Havoc did the walk of shame to the chalkboard, scribbling an angry X beside his name.

Mustang hadn’t arrived yet, it was just Hawkeye and Fuery.

“What happened?” Fuery asked. Hawkeye noticed he was gnawing his fingernails raw.

Havoc covered his eyes dramatically. “My girlfriend wanted me back. How could I say no after—after—”

“Oh we all know after what,” Hawkeye said darkly. “I’m sure you lasted two seconds.”

“Hawkeye!” Havoc gasped, appalled.

Fuery collapsed on his desk, giggling helplessly.

“You deserve it,” she said. “Some of us are still suffering.”

“Come on, are you really suffering?” Havoc asked sarcastically.

Riza crossed her arms, giving him a hard look. This could really backfire on her.

She sighed, giving an embarrassed shrug as she focused on the notes in front of her. “I…use it to relax and fall asleep.” A timely yawn escaped her.

Havoc and Fuery each looked equally incredulous.

“Hawkeye! You were supposed to be a sure thing!” Havoc moaned. “We can’t lose to the boss!”

“You’re the one who claimed to have so much restraint and brought this whole thing down on us,” she reminded him.

“That is true,” Fuery agreed.

“Well, you could’ve worked your Hawkeye magic and talked him out of it,” Havoc muttered.

“I don’t have magic. If I did, the lieutenant colonel would get his work done more efficiently,” she said, feeling flattered despite herself. “And don’t worry. I have no intention of losing.”

Suddenly Havoc gawked at her. “Damn, you do look really tired. How—how often do you use it to sleep?”

Hawkeye realized she wouldn’t get any work done until she answered.

“Every night!” Havoc’s outburst was the first thing Roy heard as he walked in the door. He almost dropped the files he’d been carrying.

“Shh!” Hawkeye and Fuery frantically shushed, and Roy was immediately suspicious.

“What’s every night?” he asked. He was already on edge. It felt like once an hour his cock was at half mast, but hell if he was going to lose so quickly.

“Just talking about Havoc and his failure as a disciplined soldier,” Hawkeye said smoothly. Her eyes were playful, but Havoc looked betrayed—no, overwhelmed. Hawkeye was a good liar. Havoc was not.

Deciding to pursue it later, he set to work. The money laundering case was their first big assignment, and they needed it to go smoothly. Grumman had given him an early morning briefing, plus a stack of files, with instruction to investigate as Roy saw fit. Any other time, he would’ve been positively gleeful—except for the fact his mood was apparently controlled by his dick.

After teasing Havoc mercilessly, Roy settled down at his desk, plotting how to end this competition. None of them would have to go for the full month if one team gave up first. But of course, Mustang had too much pride. He didn’t want to purposefully lose.

He’d just have to figure out how to crack his adjutant, whose mood had been notably altered by the competition, too. Maybe she wasn’t an insurmountable challenge after all.

Fuery would be easy.

“This is for you,” Fuery said, dropping a packet of papers on Riza’s desk. His cheeks were red, and he spoke very tersely.

Riza looked at the packet closer and saw there was a note scribbled on top: THESE ARE SAFER WITH YOU. FOUND THEM IN MY DESK AFTER LUNCH. I THINK WE ARE BEING SABOTAGED.

Riza picked up the packet and realized it was actually a selection of raunchy photographs of mostly nude female models. She narrowed her eyes, her gaze drifting over the men of the office. It was rather obvious what was happening. Mustang and Breda were struggling, and they wanted Hawkeye and Fuery to go out first. And young Fuery was hanging on by a hair. She couldn’t guess what they thought would work on her. She did a quick search of her desk, not finding any naked pictures of men.

Well, she could play that game, too.

She wrote a quick note to Fuery, telling him to make an excuse and step out for a break. It was time to retaliate.

As soon as Fuery was gone, Riza shuffled the photos, clicking her tongue. She walked over to Mustang’s desk and fanned the photographs across his desk.

“This contraband has turned up in the office, sir,” she said. “Should I write up an official report and turn it in?”

Mustang’s dark eyes grew piercing. Ah, he hadn’t expected this. Good.

“I’m sure something as small as this isn’t worth your time to make a report about,” he said smoothly.

Riza nodded, watching from the corner of her eye as Falman paled. Yes, as she thought. Breda and Mustang wouldn’t go near any kind of temptation. They sent the man who was already out.

“It would be a long report,” she said agreeably. “I’d have to catalogue each photograph, describing each one. What if any of these women are soldiers? This could be blackmail.” She made a show of appearing conflicted. “I don’t think we should skip reporting this, sir.”

Mustang glowered. He knew she knew. He just didn’t want to back down.

“See this one?” she asked, pointing to one she’d left displayed most prominently. “Doesn’t she look a little like Private Jennison?” A young soldier whose breasts were so large, Riza pitied her a little. Jennison had to have all her uniforms specially tailored. But Riza also knew every man in East City’s military knew the woman by name.

“Who looks like Private Jennison?” Havoc asked eagerly.

Mustang tried to hide the photos too late as Havoc rushed over.

“Holy shit, these are amazing.” Havoc roared, grabbing the pictures. “These must be killing you, boss.”

Mustang tilted his face to the ceiling. “I am being punished for trying to strategize.”

“What?” Havoc looked between Riza and Mustang.

“Fuery found these in his desk after lunch.” Riza turned on her heel, smiling deviously at Falman and Breda.

“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” Havoc said, studying the photos like they were critical pieces of evidence.

“The sooner it’s over for one team, the sooner it’s over for everyone,” Breda pointed out.

“Well, good luck getting me to crack,” she said, turning on her heel. “I doubt you two will even be able to hold out another week.”

Hawkeye was right. Roy and Breda were both reaching their limits. It was all well and good at work, but the minute he was alone…

Roy nodded at Breda as the other man walked out the door. Maybe he was taking this too seriously, but there was something tantalizing about getting Hawkeye to give in first.

A few minutes later Roy packed up, said goodnight to his adjutant who was furiously assembling some kind of information packet some higher ups had requested, and then he met up with Breda outside the building.

“What’d you find out?” Roy asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Hawkeye’s more vulnerable than we thought,” Breda said, chuckling. “Havoc could not resist telling me that she—she does it every night. To go to sleep, apparently.” Breda covered another laugh, slightly awkward and uncomfortable. “I can hardly believe it.”

Roy understood the feeling. Every night? He wanted to shout, just like Havoc. While he knew women could be very sexual—he’d grown up in a bar where pretty women entertained men for a living—he hadn’t seen Hawkeye that way. He’d always seen her as a woman he would need to coax an orgasm from, kiss her blush away as he slowly undressed her…

He’d thought about it so many times, and now…the reality was threatening to overcome his self-control. He wanted nothing more than to take this information home and stroke himself until he came, thinking of his gorgeous lieutenant touching herself.

“Maybe we should strategize over a drink?” Roy offered.

Because he really needed a damn drink.

The next Monday, Roy arrived an hour late to the office. He’d stayed awake pouring over the money laundering case—he suspected a local paint supplier had something to do with it. They might need to do an overnight search of their warehouse, which was much larger than a business of their size required.

All thoughts of the case evaporated as he saw two more had been knocked out of the competition. Hawkeye’s name was still blank.

“Still holding out, sir?” she asked.

“Yes, I didn’t get this promotion without a good dose of discipline, you know.”

Fuery and Havoc groaned as Breda and Falman cheered.

“You got this, boss!” Breda said.

“You think you can last the whole month?” Hawkeye challenged.

Roy grinned. “What about you, lieutenant? You look…tired.”

Her eyes widened before she quickly recovered. “Nothing a little coffee won’t fix,” she said, holding up a cup. “But you don’t have anything keeping you…up at night, sir?”

She was a little bit evil, he decided.

“So insubordinate,” he said lightly, returning to his desk. “Breda, what the hell happened, man? You’re leaving me against the lieutenant by myself?”

Breda saluted, then hung his head, even as he laughed at himself. “I got a little too drunk and forgot about the competition. I will do everything I can to support you, sir. Our honor as men is at stake.”

Mustang covered his face with his hands.

“And you, Fuery?”

“Do I have to say?” he moaned, slumping pathetically against his desk.

“Of course not,” Roy said amiably. “We are all entitled to our privacy. Uh, or as much as a game like this allows.”

“I bet he was done in by Private Jennison. Damn, she was about to bust out of her—” Havoc cut himself off, giving a sheepish look to Hawkeye.

“Probably best not to bring it up—even though she totally was, poor girl,” Hawkeye said, shaking her head. “She’s actually a very good soldier, and she struggles for anyone to see beyond her—endowments.”

Roy shared a look with his adjutant. Hawkeye’s skills as a soldier were unmissable, but she had to rise better than the best of the men to earn the respect of their superiors. It was harder being a woman in the military, and in ways Roy often didn’t notice.

“I guess it’s like how no one can see past my handsome face,” Havoc said, fluttering his eyelashes. Hawkeye aimed a rubber band at his back. “Ow!”

“If you had real discipline, you could’ve dodged it,” she said, swiftly blocking his retaliation with a folder.

Roy would’ve thought that Hawkeye was truly unbothered by the competition, that he had no hope of winning, until he saw her leave for the shooting range again. While she kept her skills sharp, it was unheard of for her to go on Mondays when they were usually busiest.

He rested his chin on his hand, he was going to need to have another meeting with Breda and Falman.

“Uh, so why are we meeting here?” Fuery asked, peering around the smoky, crowded bar with suspicion.

Havoc released a puff of his own smoke, eyeing some of the beautiful waitresses bringing drinks. “Isn’t this the place Mustang likes?”

Riza smiled. “Oh, the same one. I’m sure he’s brought you all here before, right?” She knew her superior well. He trusted these men, and if he had their trust, they must have been vetted by Madame Christmas’s girls. While Chris operated out of central, she had girls posted at bars around the country. With Roy in East City, she had sent one of his favorite “sisters” to watch out for him.

“He brought you here, Hawkeye?” Fuery choked out. “If my mother knew I was here, she’d skin me alive!”

“I’ve been here a time or two,” Riza said casually, waving Vanessa over.

“Elizabeth!” Vanessa squealed, and she dropped practically into Riza’s lap to hug her. “What are you doing here?” She looked to Fuery and Havoc. “Are you two-timing my brother?”

Riza laughed, fighting a blush. She hoped they didn’t know Vanessa meant Mustang. Vanessa and all the other girls had been teasing them since the first time Mustang brought her to Madame Christmas’s bar in Central—not long after he’d burned the array off her back. The girls kept up the teasing probably because Mustang had squawked at them not to scare her off.

“These are some of Mustang’s other men—Jean Havoc and Kain Fuery.” Riza put her hand to Vanessa’s ear. “We need some dirt on the Flame Alchemist.” She pulled back, forcing a giggle the way Vanessa and the other girls had taught her.

“Oh, you are bad,” Vanessa said. “Want some drinks before we chat?”

Riza nodded. “Put it on you-know-who’s tab.”

“You have gotten positively cheeky,” Vanessa said, slipping off behind the bar.

Havoc and Fuery turned to Riza, both patiently awaiting an explanation.

“Vanessa and the girls have mentored me in the art of…persuasion.” Riza couldn’t think of a better word for it. “I go by Elizabeth here.”

“Is that your full name?” Fuery asked.

“No.” It was her middle name. “But Vanessa might have some ideas on how to get one over on our boss. He’s probably plotting something—and we need to try and get a step ahead of him if we can.”

Havoc stubbed out his cigarette. “Yeah, he didn’t seem bothered by those photos at all. Is he even human?”

“It’s been almost three weeks. I was dying at one,” Fuery confessed.

Vanessa returned to the table with drinks, and she genuinely laughed as the three of them explained their predicament.

“So this is for the pride of women everywhere, is it?” Vanessa concluded.

“And these two,” Riza added, sipping her cocktail.

“Hmm, Roy is a tricky one,” Vanessa said. “He’s been taught to ignore the usual ploys girls use.”

“So you’re saying he’s immune to the obvious feminine charms?” Havoc said glumly.

Vanessa nodded. “I truly believe a woman could strip naked in front of him and he wouldn’t bat an eye.”

“Even after weeks of…abstaining?” Riza asked, feeling a little desperate. She was wound up with tension, and so, so tired. Another nine days of sleeplessness—no. She had to crack him.

“I couldn’t say,” Vanessa said. “But when he sets his mind to do something, he does it.”

“Well, I suppose a stalemate is almost as good as winning, right?” Fuery offered weakly.

Vanessa shook her head. “Winning is always better. I do adore Roy, but—” She hugged Riza tightly. “We have a sisterhood. Now come with me, I’m going to tell you something the boys can’t overhear.”

Vanessa played up the girly act, giggling and holding Riza’s hand as they darted through the dimly lit bar.

Vanessa led them to a private room in the back, finally dropping the giggling act, though even without it Vanessa was a very cheery person. She flopped on a loveseat, tossing her hair back.

“You and my brother are almost painful to watch. He came by earlier. Said he needed to know how to drive a woman mad with lust without doing it himself.”

Riza blanched. “He what?”

“That tells me he’s very close to his own limits. He wouldn’t come begging for advice from me otherwise.” She smirked. “It also makes sense why he wouldn’t tell me any more detail than that. I wouldn’t have helped him!”

Feeling encouraged that Mustang was reaching the end of his rope, Riza was back to business. “So what did you tell him? I need to prepare for whatever he’s going to try to do.”

Vanessa—carefree, shameless Vanessa—blushed. “I had no idea he meant you, okay? Remember that.” She sucked in a breath. “I told him to…take you for a bumpy drive. Or anything else that might…stimulate things.” She erupted in giggles.

“He’s a terrible driver!”

“A perfect excuse, I told him,” Vanessa said, snorting into her hands.

“I’m only doing this stupid competition because he wants me to get along better with the men on the team,” Riza said, feeling cross. “I haven’t slept properly since it began, and now it’s just that idiot between me and a good night’s sleep. I need to crack him.”

“Maybe that’s all you need to do,” Vanessa said thoughtfully. “Tell him just how much you are dying for it. His noble self won’t be able to resist. Especially if you play it up like Elizabeth would,” she finished, wiggling her eyebrows.

“I could never do that.”

“Why not? It could work!”

“Because—he’s my superior.” It sounded flimsy when she put it that way.

“Your superior who started a very questionable competition that could get you all a court martial.”

She had a point. “Well…I’ll sleep on it.” Or not sleep, as usual.

The next morning, armed with extra strong coffee, Riza confronted her superior. She wanted him to squirm. She leaned on his desk, taking a small sip of the terrible coffee from the break room. Conveniently, the other men had left to finish preparations for the money laundering case.

“I can’t believe you went to Vanessa for advice,” she said, hoping she sounded like the scolding adjutant she aimed to be.

Mustang threw his pen down. “What? She told you?”

Riza let him stew for a few moments longer than she should have. “Yes. Because I also went to her for advice.”

His eyes narrowed. “What did she tell you?”

“She told me to prey on your more noble nature,” she said, adding the lilting tones of Elizabeth. “Please, sir, I need to sleep. I’m tossing and turning all night, so tense—”

His hands slammed down on the desk.

“Lieutenant, that won’t work,” he said. Riza’s heart pounded in her chest. She was very sure it was working. His breathing had subtly picked up—and he had shifted forward in his chair very deliberately.

She couldn’t call him out on it though. It seemed…unsporting. “Well then, don’t even think of offering me a ride anywhere, sir.”

He spluttered, avoiding her gaze. “I wasn’t going to!”

She threw her head back and laughed before returning to her desk, waiting for the others to arrive before she deployed her next tactic.

Roy was in trouble. If Hawkeye had gone to Vanessa for advice, Hawkeye would know a little too accurately how to take him down. Hawkeye was the only girl he’d ever brought to the bar, and during some of the “lessons” the girls did with her had been far too effective on him—and Vanessa knew it, even if Hawkeye hadn’t picked up on it at the time. And Vanessa knew they were only so effective because it was Riza Hawkeye teasing and flirting with him.

He avoided looking at her as he discreetly adjusted himself beneath his desk. Under normal circumstances when he wasn’t a few strokes away from losing his pride as an officer, ignoring her was easy. It was a protective habit to see her as a soldier and friend, nothing more.

Now he saw her as he once did when she was nothing more than his teacher’s daughter: a forbidden fantasy.

His life would be simpler if he just gave in, bowed to his lieutenant’s stronger discipline. But some embarrassing part of him wanted to go longer—show her that he was more than capable of holding off. As long as he needed to.

Roy reined himself in, forcing himself to do another once over of his formal request to search the warehouse of the paint supplier. He was quite pleased with the details Hawkeye had added. Grumman would surely approve. Deciding it was good enough, Roy passed the form off to Hawkeye who promptly left to deliver it to Grumman’s office without even a teasing word. Suspicious.

The other men trickled in, and Havoc walked in especially smug. Roy’s suspicions grew.

“Boss, I had a question for you. I was chatting with my girlfriend about our competition,” Havoc began. Roy put on a purposefully disinterested look. “She’s rooting for Hawkeye, obviously, but she wondered if under the conditions set, if they weren’t a bit sexist.”

“Oh?” Roy asked.

“Well, a woman can have sex without orgasming—it’s just a matter of biology, isn’t it? So if Hawkeye wanted to have some fun without the satisfaction, so to speak, couldn’t she do that?”

He heard Fuery strangle a laugh.

“Just as much as any of us could, I guess,” Roy said flatly.

“I’ll be sure to pass that on to Hawkeye, sir,” Havoc said.

Roy sighed. “Don’t blame me if she shoots you.”

He wanted to shoot Havoc himself. Roy knew what the bastard was doing—and Hawkeye probably had something to do with it. Because what Elizabeth had been taught was to seduce with suggestion. Now Roy was thinking about her, wanting to feel wrapped around her while she came apart. It felt like a whole other challenge, making her come in the middle of sex. He wondered if any of her lovers had managed it before. He suspected not. They didn’t have the restraint Roy did.

Roy dropped his head to his desk, indifferent to how it looked. He was ready to walk to the bathroom and have one off like a horny teenager.

“Boss, no!” Breda said. “Be strong! This is about our honor as men—as soldiers!”

“Havoc, that was cold,” Falman said.

Havoc shook his head. “The sooner this is over, the sooner Hawkeye stops breathing down my neck about my overdue work. She’s much more vicious lately.” He shuddered.

“Forget this, I need—I need to step out,” Roy said, gathering what was left of his dignity and standing to leave. He didn’t care. It had been almost three weeks. He hadn’t gone this long since the war.

“Falman! Plan B!” Breda yelled.

Falman jumped from his desk, a bucket materializing from behind it.

Abruptly, Roy was drenched in cold water.

“What the hell?” he snarled, turning to Falman who was still holding the empty bucket.

“Sir!” And of course Hawkeye would appear, and while her face gave away nothing, her eyes were definitely laughing at him. “What happened?”

The men couldn’t explain over their laughter. Roy slicked his hair back with a wet palm. “Plan B, that’s all, lieutenant.”

“Well, you are useless when wet,” Hawkeye said, dropping her eyes respectfully to the floor.

“Insubordinate, disloyal monsters,” Roy grumbled under his breath, taking his soaked jacket off and tossing it at Falman. The jacket had taken the brunt of the attack and droplets sprayed across the room. “Find me a dry shirt, Falman!” Typically he would ask Hawkeye, but he was trying not to look at her at the moment. His erection had finally retreated, but he wasn’t risking anything yet.

Falman went digging in the closet where they kept odds and ends—such as extra shirts—and appeared with a clean, dry shirt. Without thinking, Roy began to unbutton his current one to change.

“Avert your eyes, Hawkeye!” Havoc hollered, and Roy looked up to see the man diving in front of Hawkeye who had been waiting in front of Roy’s desk expectantly. Holding the search warrant, he realized. It had been approved!

“What are you doing?” Hawkeye yelped, as Havoc covered her eyes with his hands.

“I think their Plan B is to seduce you with the lieutenant colonel’s abs. What’s he doing just stripping in front of a female officer so boldly!”

Roy felt a flush creep up his neck. He’d thought nothing of changing in front of her.

“Havoc, what do you know about my abs?” he asked, diverting attention from himself.

“Don’t change the subject,” Havoc said, still trying to cover Hawkeye’s eyes as she struggled to bat him away without dropping the paperwork in her arms.

“Stop being stupid!” she said, elbowing him hard enough to release her. “I have the approval from General Grumman, but he insisted we go tonight. We have arrangements to make, so stop clowning around!” Thoroughly scolded, Havoc hurried to his desk, while Roy changed in record time.

As the team went to work, Roy noticed something—they were arguing less. Breda was consulting with Havoc while Fuery and Falman bounced ideas off Hawkeye. Maybe the team building had done more than frustrate the hell out of them. There was a comfort between them that had been absent before. And at the end of the day when Hawkeye fell asleep sitting straight in her chair, Havoc picked up her work and continued where she left off.

Like clockwork, the team’s search of the warehouse began. Havoc covered Breda while he searched the office, and Falman watched over the entrance. Fuery was stationed with the communication system up the hill from the warehouse, connected to Falman so they could be forewarned of any activity outside the building. Roy and Hawkeye would search the rest of the warehouse. If anything looked hidden or questionable, Roy wanted to be able to use his alchemy to flush it out.

The warehouse was an out of the way building with little security. If they were hiding something here, they weren’t concerned it would be found. The rows of shelving before Roy and Hawkeye looked perfectly ordinary in the small amount of light illuminating the room.

“There’s a strong…chemical smell,” Hawkeye said. He didn’t need to see her to know she was wrinkling her nose.

“Yes, I think it’s paint thinner.” No flames then. He tucked his gloves away. “Let’s split up. You go left, I go right. Meet in the middle?”

“Got it, sir.”

Gradually, Roy wound his way through the aisles, occasionally inspecting things physically. Across the silent room it was easy to hear Hawkeye doing the same. He was beginning to think the area was a dead end when he noticed some unusual etchings on the ground at the bottom of a shelf. Instincts coming alive, he started emptying the shelf of heavy buckets. And there it was, a secret entrance. The grip to pull the floorboards up was nothing more than a divot in the concrete floor.

“Oy! Hawkeye, come here!”

She was at his side in moments. “That looks promising,” she said mildly. “You want to do the honors?”

Roy nodded, squatting and heaving the slab up on its side. “Shit, that was heavy,” he grunted. He turned on his flashlight and was rewarded with the sight of a few dozen bars of gold, stacked in neat little rows inside the hidden pocket beneath the floor. Gold he was certain the company had not claimed as income that year.

“Perfect,” he said, dropping onto his stomach to see if anything else had been hidden with the gold.

“Careful, sir,” Hawkeye said. “Maybe let me look. I’m smaller.”

“You’re right,” he said, shuffling backward. The way the shelves were, he couldn’t even stand on his knees without hitting his head.

Once he was out of the way, Hawkeye wriggled under the shelf, and Roy couldn’t stop himself from watching her behind. He loved when she dressed down for assignments like these. The uniform was so boxy, it was difficult to make out her curves. Not that he should be wanting to check out his subordinate, but it was inevitable.

“Huh, there might be a stack of papers stuck under one of these stacks, but it’s too heavy for me to move like this.” She dropped to her stomach. “Can you come hold the flashlight?”

Roy squeezed in beside her—and promptly kicked over a tin can.

“Shit! What is that!” he hissed as something cold and wet soaked through his shirt. “Not again!” And it smelled very potent.

“What did you knock over?” Hawkeye asked, turning on her side. “It reeks!”

“I think some paint thinner,” he admitted, scrambling to turn the can upright. Stupid thing definitely hadn’t been secured properly.

Then suddenly it was like Hawkeye couldn’t escape fast enough.

“Oh no. Uhh, sir! It’s burning!” she gasped, almost a whimper.

Roy took action. He grabbed her arm and hauled her out. “There was a washing area this way,” he said, practically dragging her to where’d he’d seen it.

The corner he’d seen had a drain and a basic hose for washing up paint spills, he suspected. There were buckets and mops littering the area, but he haphazardly kicked them out of the way.

“How much did you get on you?” he asked her. The smell was thick in his nose, but that was probably his own clothes stinking up the place. And shit, it was really starting to burn. What kind of chemicals did they use?

“All down my side,” she said tightly.

“Here, you rinse first,” he said, turning on the hose. He turned to pass it to her and almost dropped it. He was the luckiest man alive, covered in paint thinner, but still the luckiest man alive, because there was Riza Hawkeye stripping in front of him. He only got a quick glimpse before he averted his eyes, but he’d seen toned muscles and curves—and a plain black bra that was unduly sexy.

He didn’t have long to savor the sight before the skin irritation began to override everything else. He searched around for soap, trying not to look at the lieutenant. He swallowed. She had stripped down to her bra and underwear and she was dripping with cold water…

Burning skin brought him back to reality again. He found some soap and offered it to her blindly while looking off in the other direction.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

Roy busied himself taking off his shirt—the same one he’d changed into earlier in the office, so at least it wasn’t one of his good shirts.

“Sir, you can share the water with me,” she said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “It’s best to wash it off as quickly as you can. I’ll lather myself up while you rinse off.”

“I—uh—should probably—"

“Do what you have to do,” she said, answering his question before he could fumble for the words.

He willed his erection to behave as he took a deep breath and undid the button on his pants.

Riza wished the water was a bit colder—something to remind her that she was in the middle of a stealth assignment with her superior officer, not half naked with a very attractive man. Why was he so muscular anyway?”

She felt him step closer, the heat of him radiating against her side. She let herself look at him briefly as she passed him the hose. His face was dark and tense, but he gave nothing else away, concentrating on washing himself.

Her eyes dropped lower, skimming down the lean muscles of his chest, darting quickly to the very prominent tent in his boxers. They were already wet from the cold water, and the cloth clung suggestively to his erection.

She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and returned to cleaning the chemicals off. Her side was pink where the chemicals had soaked through her clothes—her hip and thigh had taken the worst of it. There was no room for lustful thoughts when they’d made a mess of an otherwise very simple investigation. Already she wasn’t sure how they were going to explain this to the others.

After she had passed the soap to him while she rinsed hers off, he finally said something.

“The scarring doesn’t look as bad as I expected,” he whispered. “It’s healed well.”

Self-consciously, instinctively, she twirled to hide her back from him. It was a mistake. Now she was a few inches from him, looking up into his regretful dark eyes. All she wanted to do was close the gap and kiss him. Her hand clenched tightly on the hose as she talked herself down from doing anything foolish. He was her superior officer, and they both had goals more important than whatever feelings simmered between them.

“Don’t forget what relief those scars bring me,” she said. “I can see you torturing yourself about it again.”

He sighed. “That’s not the only thing torturing me.” He grabbed the hose from her, letting the water wash away the cheap soap he’d found. Her eyes were drawn below his waist again, this time unable to stop herself from inspecting the impressive bulge. She shivered, goosebumps dancing across her skin.

“You’re staring, lieutenant,” he said, his voice husky.

She had no excuse. “I was just wondering how much longer you’ll be able to last,” she said, summoning her courage. She thought about what Vanessa had told her. “The sooner you give in…the sooner I can, too. And I am so tired, sir. It really is the only thing that helps me sleep.”

“So you’re saying, as your superior, it’s my duty to lose this competition so you can sleep? Because…” He paused to look her over, and boldly, she let him. She was proud of her body—it was strong and capable. “You’ll get more work done if I do, right?”

“I’m really at my best when I’m well rested,” she agreed, the words coming out breathless as she watched his hand dip down into his underwear, somehow managing to grab his cock without pushing the wet fabric out of the way. She wished fervently for a better view.

The moment he gave in to the first stroke, he let out a desperate, quiet moan. The relief of finally giving into it seemed to hit every part of him—his head fell back as the tension left his shoulders. And it was that word—relief—that brought to mind what she wanted to do for him.

“Sir,” she said, retreating to familiar patterns as she braved the unknown. “Permission to help give you some relief?” She dropped to her knees so there would be no mistaking her meaning.

In the dim light, there was nothing to see in his eyes but burning lust. “Please. Fuck. But I’m not going to last—” the rest was cut off in a gasp as she gently tugged his boxers out of the way, their hands lacing together across his cock as she held it steady and let her lips stretch across the head ever-so-slowly before she sucked him against her tongue, fighting not to gag as his hips thrust involuntarily forward. The taste of precum was salty and bitter on her tongue and told her this would be over too quickly. Strange, she’d never really wanted to spend much time like this with others, but with him…she wanted to worship him.

Shaky fingers traced across her hair and she allowed herself to look up at him. It humbled her, the look of trust and bliss across his face as he watched her movements intently. She wanted to smile. Instead, she swirled her tongue around his tip playfully, and listened to him groan as she focused on getting him to come.

She learned that when Roy Mustang came it was with the same quiet intensity he used while drawing arrays.

There was no time for awkward conversation because barely a moment after finishing washing up, Havoc and Breda came looking for them. Mustang immediately threw a tarp over Riza while he hurried off to explain the situation. Their laughter was short-lived, as Riza heard the muffled sound of Mustang barking orders at them.

He returned with Breda and Havoc—both of them shirtless, but Mustang was slipping on Breda’s shirt which was at least long enough to give him a bit more modesty. Riza dressed beneath the tarp, grateful that Havoc was tall enough that his shirt fell to a very modest length.

Even accounting for the paint thinner incident, the team managed to pull together all the evidence needed for a solid case to present to General Grumman.

Finished, they all packed into one car for the sake of being inconspicuous. As they all crowded in, there was a quiet moment where nothing was said.

“Maybe Fuery and Falman should take off an item of clothing each too. Just to be fair,” Havoc joked.

“And roll down the windows. That paint thinner smells poisonous!” Breda added.

The laughter from the team eased Riza’s nerves. No one had said an unprofessional word about her or her body, or the fact she and Mustang had been alone in their underwear.

Her thighs pressed together remembering the feel of him in her mouth, even as embarrassment flooded her. What had she been thinking? She hadn’t been thinking. Weeks of poor sleep caught up to her. And Mustang had undoubtedly been on his last ounce of willpower.

It could never happen again.

She drove them back to their meetup point, anxious to get home and sleep. It was now past three in the morning. It wasn’t until she was trudging up the stairs to her apartment that a painful realization struck: she still couldn’t fall asleep her usual way. Her crutch was still out of reach. At work the next day, Mustang would have to mark himself out. It would raise the men’s suspicions too much if she marked herself out the same night. Especially after they’d spent the whole evening working late. She would have to wait until tomorrow night.

She cursed under her breath, deciding to take a long shower to wash the remaining smell of paint thinner away. It would be a cold, lonely shower.

Despite his exhaustion, Roy lay awake, torn between elation and guilt. Finally, finally he’d had a sample of what it would be like to be Riza Hawkeye’s lover. Of course, it happened in less than ideal conditions. He was so disoriented from his orgasm, he’d forgotten to so much as kiss her. He was a cad.

But he was dying to return the favor.

He toyed with the idea of leaving her alone, writing off the incident at the warehouse as the result of fumes and hormones. From what he knew of Hawkeye, she’d accept this without question. It would be the wisest choice. The idea also sent a wave of regret through him. He couldn’t stop this thing between them before it was even fully off the ground. Before he kissed her properly.

He decided to leave it in Hawkeye’s hands. She knew how to keep him on the right path better than himself. Though he might nudge her in the direction he desired.

The team assembled in the office slowly, all armed with coffee. Roy was the last to arrive, and upon seeing Hawkeye his mind immediately reminded him of how she had looked half naked and wet. Something about her proper, professional demeanor at the office made it so much hotter that he knew what amazing things she could do with her mouth. It was a dirty secret between them—and he loved it.

“Does anyone else still smell paint thinner?” Breda asked, stifling a yawn.

Roy strolled over to the chalkboard slowly, delaying the inevitable ribbing. “I’m pretty sure I’ve become desensitized to it,” he said.

“Me too,” Hawkeye said. “I think something was off about it, too. I looked at my shirt from last night and it seemed to be eating a hole through the fabric.”

Roy made a note to take a look at his own clothes when he went home.

He studied the chalkboard, brow creasing as he saw there was no mark beside Hawkeye’s name. Even after she knew he’d lost…

He drew the “X” with pride, knowing that he had lost this challenge the best possible way.

It took only a second for the team to notice. There was an immediate uproar.

“Our fallen leader,” Breda said, wiping a fake tear away.

“So what brought you down, boss?” Havoc asked slyly. His eyes flickered to Hawkeye. Havoc wasn’t stupid enough to say it out loud, but he knew Roy and Hawkeye had both been in their underwear—sharing a single hose with only moderate water pressure.

Roy had prepared an answer. “I just needed some…relief.”

The men all laughed, but Hawkeye crossed her arms and wore the smallest of smiles, ever the humble champion.

An idea came to Roy then.

“Now, by the rules of the competition, Hawkeye is the last one standing. But to truly win…maybe she should try to last the rest of the month.”

Her expression turned horrified for a fraction of a second before she smothered it.

“Really?” she asked flatly.

Havoc and Fuery each gave her nervous looks. Everyone was especially tired today, and Hawkeye was already tired.

“What, not sure you can hold off another week?” Roy asked lightly.

She clenched her jaw. “I can make it.”

Checkmate, Hawkeye.

Roy finally got a moment alone with Hawkeye on the way to a meeting together.

“So you really didn’t…indulge at all?” Roy asked lowly, trying to ignore the wilting of his pride. He reminded himself that women had moods, and just because a mood arrived, didn’t mean it lingered. While she’d definitely looked willing and debauched on her knees in the warehouse, she’d been all business the moment Breda and Havoc arrived.

And though he was awake for an hour replaying the vision of her mostly naked, it didn’t mean she was compelled to do the same.

“No. I didn’t want them to suspect something happened between us,” she said matter-of-factly.

Right. She was too honest to lie, even for a ridiculous team building exercise.

“I see,” he said.

“I would have indulged tonight, but someone suggested I see this competition through to the end,” she said coldly.

He glanced back as he heard her yawn. Her eyes were puffy, her skin a little paler than normal. Maybe he shouldn’t have goaded her into holding off another week.

Riza attempted going to bed early that night. She took a warm, relaxing bath with a few scented candles burning. She did her stretches for her back slowly, willing her body to relax, turned the light off, and crawled into bed, aching for sleep. And something else, if she was honest with herself.

Her mind refused to shut off.

How bad would it be to give in? She was so tired. Any teasing would be worth the rest. And she was thinking about her superior again, the quiet intensity as he lost himself to pleasure, the soft touch of his hand across her face…

She rubbed her thighs together, biting her lip. What good would she be at work tomorrow if she was half asleep? Her fingers edged toward the waistband of her underwear, craving that rush of heat that would spread through her body, leaving her blissfully relaxed.

The phone rang.

Cursing powerfully, she jumped out of bed to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hawkeye!” a drunken voice yelled into her ear. There was a lot of laughter and voices in the background.

She covered her face, twitching in annoyance. “Havoc! What do you want? I’m trying to get to sleep!”

“Exactly! I made a bet with Breda that you would make it through the rest of the month! Don’t be—don’t be doing anything you shouldn’t, young lady!”

“Excuse me?” she growled into the phone.

“You heard me!”

There was the sound of a scuffle, and a loud clanking as the phone was probably dropped.

“Hawkeye! Don’t listen to him! You do what you need to fall asleep. You deserve it!” Breda’s voice said, equally drunk.

“I’m hanging up.”

“Be strong, lieutenant!” Havoc bellowed, loud enough she heard it even holding the phone away from her ear.

It was another very long, restless night of little sleep.

Riza made sure to drop the stack of books onto Havoc’s desk as loudly as she could. She gave him a vengeful smile as he winced and massaged his temples. He didn’t show up at the office until after lunch.

“So, you and Breda went drinking last night?” she asked conversationally.

“Sorry, Hawkeye. I have fifty cenz riding on this!”

“I’m going to the range,” she said. “You are going to take care of all of my duties while I’m gone, or I will make sure you lose that bet.”

“Fine,” he agreed, sullen.

She stalked out of the room, arguing with herself about the immorality in their team. Masturbation competitions. Gambling. Fraternization. She flushed with guilt. How could she keep Mustang on the right path if she wavered at temptation?

Roy followed Hawkeye, telling the team he was going to make sure she didn’t fall asleep at the range and shoot someone on accident. And she really was dangerously tired—she didn’t notice he was following her until he called to her.

“Hawkeye, you’re dead on your feet, come with me,” he said, nudging her away from the gun range.

“Sir, I’m not going home—”

“I’m not sending you home. Come on, I know a place,” he said, bestowing her with his most dazzling grin.

She looked at him, and he knew her temper was boiling beneath the surface. “What kind of place?”

He lowered his voice. “A very quiet and private place.” He had taken countless naps there himself.

She quirked an eyebrow. “Is this where you disappear to some afternoons?”

“I admit nothing,” he said. And he had more than one napping place, but this one he was willing to share with Hawkeye.

“And you’re showing it to me…why?”

He thought about how worn down she was, looking as if she’d fall asleep in her chair. He hadn’t been thinking when he’d challenged her to continue holding off. He only hoped a nap could see her through the day.

“I owe you one,” he said.

She jutted out her chin for a moment longer as he waited for her temper to either burst or simmer down. His eyes landed on her lips, thinking of what they might be able to do in such a quiet place together…

Her expression softened as she smiled at him.

“All right. Just this once,” she said, falling into step behind him.

He led them toward the accounting department’s storage room. Unlike other departments, they had to store files for ten years before they could be destroyed. Roy had come poking around for a corrupt official’s spending records when he discovered the accountants maintained a room with a cot for their annual audit. It was apparently an arduous event, and many of them pulled all-nighters. But the rest of the year, the room was unused—except by him.

Around a row of cabinets, out of view from the door, was a simple cot. No blankets or anything, but comfortable enough for some sleep.

“It’s not much, but it’s very private,” Roy said. A strange thrill ran through him, the same kind he got whenever he cornered a criminal, or was about to put his opponent in check. He turned to Hawkeye, and his mouth fell open. She was stripping in front of him for the second time in less than a week. She hung her jacket carefully across a cabinet, then began unbuttoning her pants.

He stared.

“You better look while you can,” she teased, revealing her long, bare legs. “Just this once, remember?”

Roy struggled to breathe, replaying the conversation they’d had in the hallway. He’d said—and she thought he meant—

Well, he always was quick on his feet.

“Right. Just this once,” he said. He’d set himself on fire before correcting her mistake. “Do you want me to—?” He gestured to his own jacket. He wasn’t sure, but if this was a quid pro quo thing, he didn’t need to undress, although they had both been mostly naked back at the warehouse...

“Maybe just your jacket,” she said, confirming his assumption.

He slipped his off quickly, throwing it haphazardly to the ground while Hawkeye folded her pants carefully.

“Sir, it will wrinkle,” she scolded him with a flirty smirk, moving toward the jacket.

“Sorry,” he said distractedly, taking in the exposed skin of her thighs. He couldn’t look away as she bent down to retrieve the jacket, laying it neatly atop the cabinet beside hers.

If this was his only opportunity…

He strode forward, his hands palming her hips and pulling her flush against him. She peered up at him, her breath as shallow as his.

“Is this okay?” he found himself asking, aware that his cock was misbehaving, but he would control himself. It was her turn now. He owed her so much—more than a hurried tryst in a storage room. He would do whatever she wanted.

“Yes,” she murmured, melting against him. It felt so good, so right, to have her in his arms.

“Last time, I didn’t even get to kiss you and—and—that’s just unfair,” he said, eyeing her parted lips with desperation.

She took mercy on him and stood on her toes, pulling him down by the nape of his neck to crush their lips together. She kissed with the same thoroughness she approached her job, and he responded with everything he had—a vain need to show her what a good, considerate lover he would be. He was overly eager to impress her.

He let his hands wander across her ass, giving a quick squeeze that made her gasp deliciously into his mouth. Then he worked his thumbs into the soft fabric of her underwear, tugging them off until there was nothing but skin below her waist. Tracing his hands lower, he squeezed again at the top of her thighs and was rewarded with her moan.

He nudged her back until she reclined on the cot, her legs trembling. Her eyes watched him carefully, half open but full of lust.

“Open your legs for me,” he said, the words more a command then a request.

She let her legs fall apart, gifting him with a surprisingly dainty whimper. One hand covered herself shyly, and it about broke him. His lovely, confident lieutenant afraid for him to see her—when she had to know what he planned to do.

Resting a hand on her thin ankle, he waited as she took a few gasps. He leaned down to kiss her knee, dragging his lips toward her inner thigh where he felt the heat radiating from her center. Her breaths grew ragged with anticipation.

“Roy—no one has ever—” she whispered, panting, still blocking his view with her hand.

“I don’t have to,” he said, choosing his words deliberately. It made sense now why she was being uncharacteristically shy. “But I am fucking dying to taste you and feel you come on my tongue.”

She made an unintelligible noise. “Okay,” she choked out. She moved her hand, and he let his fingers explore her first, caressing them over her folds.

“Let me know if I do something you don’t like,” he said, before slipping two fingers straight inside her. She was already so wet, he imagined if it was his cock, she would’ve taken it beautifully. She moaned as he pumped his fingers in and out of her, but her eyes remained watchful, expectant.

He understood. She wanted to know when he would use his mouth.

He took a moment to consider what she might like best, then he lowered his head slowly, keeping his gaze locked on hers. His tongue found her clit immediately, and he pressed hard against it.

She cried out, quickly muffling it with her hand. He grinned against her, then began licking and sucking interchangeably. Her legs shook violently around him, her encouraging, high pitched gasps seemed connected by a string to his erection, making him painfully hard. He began thrusting his fingers into her rhythmically, the same pace he would fuck her if he could. If he wasn’t her superior. If he had nothing to atone for.

He matched his tongue’s pace to his fingers, and she clenched down around him.

“Oh god. Just like that—don’t stop,” she sobbed. He was shocked at how close she was already. Then she was pulsing around him with a final blissful moan. She grasped the collar of his shirt and pulled until they were close enough to share a sloppy, passionate kiss.

He watched her eyelids flutter shut with sleep, so he surreptitiously adjusted his erection so that it was more comfortable before cramming in beside her in the cot meant for one. She snuggled into him like it was something they had always done, her head tucked under his chin. His heart twisted realizing how fleeting the moment would be.

Even after she fell asleep, he could still taste her on his tongue.

Riza woke up in a haze of perfect contentment until she realized her head was resting on Mustang’s chest. Oh no. How could they have been so reckless? And on military property. The sleep deprivation was affecting her reasoning.

Still, she didn’t move. Mustang had fallen asleep as well, and his arm was across her back. She peeked down and saw his jacket draped across her naked lower half. Her body throbbed with the memory of what his tongue had done. Oh my—if she had known what it would be like…

No. She couldn’t go down that path. The only reason she had stayed in the military was to support his goals and work toward whatever atonement she could grasp. She couldn’t help him as a regular citizen, and as long as she was in the military, a relationship was impossible.

She chided herself for such a leap—Mustang hadn’t mentioned a relationship. It was just raging sexual tension burning out of control once they had no other outlets thanks to that stupid competition.

Or so she wanted to convince herself.

“Lieutenant, I’m surprised you haven’t marched me at gunpoint back to the office,” he said, startling her.

She pushed up on her elbow. “At this rate, I think it’s best we lie low. We’ve been gone too long.”

“I’ll think of some excuse,” he assured her. “I also…wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have pushed you to go the rest of the month. You won fair and square.”

Riza smiled. “I appreciate that—but why the hell did you do it in the first place?”

He gave her a sheepish look. “Mostly to watch you squirm.”

She reached out and pinched his arm.

“Ow! You are becoming very insubordinate, you know that?”

She shrugged. “Someone has to keep you in line.”

“Better a pinch than a bullet, I guess,” he grumbled, exaggeratedly nursing his arm.

“Want me to kiss it better?” she found herself asking—quite without her more sensible side’s permission.

Immediately, the atmosphere changed. Her heart thudded loudly in her ears, and she was aware of every point their bodies were touching. She was completely naked below the waist, and now that she knew how good he was with his mouth…

“Riza,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers. “Do you want this as much as I do?”

“Probably more,” she said. No matter how much she tried, she never stopped wanting Roy Mustang.

“But we shouldn’t,” he said sharply. Reprimanding himself or her, it didn’t matter. He was right.

“No. We can’t risk it.” She inhaled, relishing his scent. He always smelled so good, even back during his apprentice days in her father’s house. “Maybe…one day,” she said, her voice thin with the barest of hope for that future.

“Holding out makes it so much better, doesn’t it? The longer we have to wait to be together…” he trailed off.

“We’ll still be together,” she reminded him. “Not like this,” wrapped together like happy lovers, “but together.”

She shifted, preparing to stand and dress, when she felt something irresistible pressing into her abdomen. He had taken care of her needs, ignoring his own. Like always.

Suddenly she didn’t want to wait around for the timing to be right. Holding out was overrated.

Under normal circumstances, Roy thought of himself as a logical man. He wanted to be a man of honor, a man who could walk the straight and narrow no matter the obstacles. A man who would never seduce his female subordinate.

He had never considered his subordinate would seduce him.

“Sir, you really can’t go back to the office like this,” Hawkeye said softly as her hand wriggled between them to cup his erection.

“Ah, yes, a consequence of being pressed against you—” he couldn’t finish his thought. She twisted herself until she hovered over him, straddling his hips.

Dimly, he saw her kick his uniform jacket onto the floor. “Won’t it wrinkle?” he asked, voice strained.

“Do you care?” She pulled her shirt over her head. Her glorious breasts momentarily distracted him as her bra went next.

“No. But I’m confused. We just said—”

“You really think we can ignore this for however many years it takes to reach your goals?” She countered, working on the buttons of his shirt.

His hands, moving with a mind of their own, glided up and down her thighs. “I thought you’d keep me in line.”

“If your insane brainchild has taught us anything, our team works best when we are satisfied and well rested. And you and I both know we already get distracted by one another.” She leaned down to kiss him, and her naked breasts, soft against his chest, sent him a bit farther into madness. She sucked on his tongue, doing such obscene things with it that he nearly forgot to keep up his feeble argument.

“You’re all about efficiency, is that it?” he asked. “Fraternization be damned?”

“I’m not saying we do this all the time. Just whenever the tension gets to be too much, and we need…relief.”

He swallowed thickly. “I really like this idea.”

“Me too.” She ground down on his erection, her lips near his ear. “If I had known how good it was to have your mouth between my thighs, I would never have lasted this long.”

His mind toyed with a devious idea. His sweet, delicious lieutenant was asking for him to make her come with his mouth again. And if she had never experienced that, surely she had never…

“You up for a little…adventure?”

“What did you have in mind?” She nibbled at his neck, each touch zinging to his cock. He knew she would probably need some enticement, so he slipped his hand between her legs, her core already slick. He sank two fingers into her, grinning like an idiot when she thrust her body down onto them. His thumb rubbed circles on her clit as she squirmed on him.

Her breaths accelerated in time with his own. Willing himself to slow down, he changed the pace to lazy circles.

“Turn around,” he whispered. “I want to be inside your mouth while I taste you at the same time.”

He waited, gauging her reaction. He felt his heart constrict at the foreign shy expression on her face.

“That seems…tricky,” she said after a beat.

“You’ll be on top, so you can stop anytime.”

“Oh. If you were on top—” She squeezed down on his fingers, her eyes a dark amber. So she liked that idea? Maybe another time. He wouldn’t last long with her eager mouth beneath him. He wasn’t going to last long as it was. And the thought of having her another time was too much to think about.

“You seemed to really like my mouth on you earlier,” he reminded her, hoping to provoke her into bravery.

With a determined huff, she pulled away, his wet fingers sliding across her legs as he helped her flip around, one knee landing gracefully by his shoulder. He was dying to taste her, dying to have her helplessly moaning around a mouthful of his cock. She made short work of his pants, and he grunted as she wrapped her hand around him. He grabbed her hips, positioning her a bit roughly into place so he could tug her down and clamp down on her clit.

Her thighs quaked around him and just as he hoped, she moaned wantonly as she sucked his erection as deep as she could, her tongue teasing him.

But he didn’t want her focused on him. Sure, she was a goddess with that sharp tongue of hers, but he wanted her mindless with desire. He needed to see her fall apart before he finally claimed her body.

Roy couldn’t deny her trust in him was half the turn on, her beautiful folds spread out for him to see. He spread her legs apart farther, enjoying her gasp as he angled her just a bit differently and plunged his fingers into her again. He knew she liked that extra stimulation, and with this new angle he could do a lot.

In retaliation, she added more suction and his answering moan, vibrating against her, made her grind gently against his mouth. Her inhibitions were gone, her groans gaining almost too much volume, and her focus on him faltered to sporadic licks as she distractedly worked him up and down.

He filled with pride as she finally had to release him, her breaths high and labored.

“Oh god. Roy. Please—”

He almost shushed her she grew so loud, but he would risk the end of his career to hear her cry his name while she tipped over the edge.

“Roy,” she whimpered, her head falling onto his thigh as she went limp, perfectly relaxed.

He eased her onto her side, trying to give her a moment to catch her breath even as his cock begged for attention.

Then Hawkeye looked at him, and he realized he was now the focus of all her discipline and strength as a soldier. She twirled around, licking her swollen lips as she climbed over him, a lithe and seductive predator. She dragged her wet folds along his stiff hardness, and he reflexively bucked his hips, needing more.

She kept teasing him.

“Lieutenant,” he groaned. “Are you trying to torture me for information?”

She laughed softly before kissing him deeply. “What information would I be looking for?” she asked, finally—finally—inching her way down his erection.

Busy exploring her body, paying particular attention to her breasts, he forgot to answer. Then he could think of nothing else as she slid down his cock, wrapping him tightly in wet heat. He loved how confident she was, more in her element as she took control of his pleasure, finding a rhythm that made him tense from his stomach to his toes.

“I always thought you’d be a dirty talker,” she said, brushing the tips of her breasts against his chest as she spoke into his ear.

He was intrigued. “Oh? You think about this a lot?”

“Most nights,” she said, letting her hands roam. He sighed when they combed through his messy hair.

“I thought you’d be more shy,” he panted. “And here you are—fuck—yeah, I can’t talk much when you do that.” He groaned, rock hard inside her, as she began to thrust faster.

“Whatever fantasies I’ve had of you…this is so much better,” she said, drawing him into another kiss.

And that’s when he knew he was in trouble. She was right. This was better. Better than anything else in his life. Because he was in love with her. There was no doubt she loved him too.

He shuddered under her attentions, knowing that he was undeserving of her loving touches, but not caring. Whatever she would give him, he would take.

A grunt escaped him as she quickened the pace, his own thrusts jostling her.

“I’m—I’m close,” he warned her, his balls tightening in that pleasant way it always did right before he came.

“Go ahead—if you want,” she moaned, sinking all the way down, unmistakably giving her permission.

“Almost,” he said, sneaking a hand to her clit and circling it until she came around him with a cry of elation that he stifled with his lips.

And oh hell, it was euphoric, fusing their mouths together and holding her waist in place as he came deep inside her, pulsing over and over. She held still as he softened inside her, and he treasured the sticky mess connecting them.

They broke apart and he kissed her shoulder, damp with sweat, as they rearranged themselves into a more comfortable position on the cot.

“Well, if anyone heard us, they are too afraid to interrupt,” he said at last. He was going to have to find an excuse to top all excuses to give the rest of the team.

“I tried to be quiet,” she said, a hint of petulance in her voice.

“And I tried to make you scream,” he countered, grinning ear to ear. It earned him a shove that almost knocked him out of the cot.

Later, they dressed in companionable silence

“Maybe…we can do this again when you get your next promotion?” she offered with a smirk. “Would that motivate you?”

It really would. “Unless you ask for it sooner,” he challenged, buttoning his shirt.

“I’ll hold out as long as I can, sir,” she said, her dutiful adjutant persona reappearing. “You get that promotion as soon as you can.” She sidled up to him, making his heart race. “I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

Riza arrived early to work, marking herself out on the chalkboard with a barely suppressed smile. Then she waited for the others arrive. Havoc shuffled in first.

“What! Hawkeye!” Havoc yelled in disbelief, dropping his bag to the floor. “You couldn’t hold out a little bit longer?”

Riza paused her reading. “No.”

“Damn it, I never should’ve bet against Breda.”

“If it’s any consolation, I already finished the report you left half done. Thanks for covering for me yesterday.” She looked back down at the document, aiming for casual. But she could practically hear Havoc making the connection.

“Right. Where did you and Mustang disappear to all afternoon?” Havoc scratched at his chin.

“The accounting department,” she said crisply, following Mustang’s carefully crafted excuse.

“You were there for ages. Did it not go well?”

She couldn’t resist. “No, it went very well. Mustang was just very thorough.”

“I did hear a rumor yesterday—I can’t wait to tell the boss.”

“A rumor?” Mustang asked, as if he could appear whenever anyone mentioned him. He swept over to his desk, plunking a briefcase on top.

Riza tensed, afraid there were rumors of a certain lieutenant colonel and his adjutant brazenly breaking fraternization laws.

“Some of the secretaries were talking—including Grumman’s. Rumor has it a certain Flame Alchemist is being put up for a promotion to colonel.”

Riza felt her body flush pleasantly as Mustang’s eyes darted to her. He looked incredibly smug.

“I wonder when it will be official,” Mustang said. “I should drop by Grumman’s for one of our chess games—see if he talks.”

“Until it’s official, it doesn’t count,” Riza said, although she was already anticipating celebrating his promotion in a proper bed…

“I’ll be sure to ask Grumman for it to be expedited,” he said, staring at her a little too intently. Havoc watched with amusement.

“Good idea,” she said. She returned to her work.

“Boss, have you noticed Hawkeye seems well rested today?” Havoc asked, still watching them closely.

Mustang’s grin could not have been more arrogant, but he played it off like it was because she gave in before the month was out.

“You know, she does. Release a little tension, lieutenant?”

Riza didn’t look up, acting absorbed in her work. “Yes, sir. Four times, in fact.” Three with Mustang, and once before bed.

It was worth confessing just to watch him and Havoc practically swallow their tongues.

“Being a woman means not only can I hold out longer when I choose to, I can also…” she searched for the word, “produce more. It’s a pity the military doesn’t utilize women more. We are very efficient.”

“Is that a challenge?” Mustang asked, popping his knuckles.

“No, no, no, you get your evil ideas under control!” Havoc said. “No more!”

And while Mustang assured Havoc he was joking, Riza heard the promise in his voice. Round two between them was going to be unforgettable.

#royai #lieutenant colonel mustang #FMA #fanfic #Fullmetal Alchemist #riza hawkeye

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mggpleasedontlookhere · 5 years ago

Text

unexpected, expected beginnings

Summary: Working at the ice rink has been one of your favorite jobs, although it tends to lead you to reminisce on recurring memories of your past best friend and lover, Timothee. But, when an unexpected visitor comes through the door, will it leave you to start unexpected beginnings? or form a relationship from burnt bridges?

word count: 2,407 reading time aprox: 10 mins

Multi-colored strobe lights glided and beamed throughout the ice rink, shining on the faces of people that were either steadily skating or helplessly clinging onto the railing for life. I found comfort in the cold crisp air as I stood idle by the rental skate hut, waiting for my shift to finish, at 8:30, in 15 minutes.

I laid comfortably on my propped elbow, a smile crossing my lips as I watched the hesitant and naive expressions of those inexperienced skaters. A brief giggle would occasionally be let out as they would slip and tremble when letting go of the sides, in which they then hastily glue themselves to the wall once again.

I shook my head while checking the time, reminiscing on the days I began skating lessons with, my ex best friend and boyfriend, Timothee and how we would find reassurance when we’d watch each other tumble, yet get back up again. I remember it as if it wasn’t nearly 9 years ago, an 8 and 10 year old walking on ice like a baby elephant learning how to walk on it’s hind legs.

Sometimes I’d wonder where Timothee was, though I’d have to scold myself for letting him cloud my thoughts once again. We had broken up after he had graduated high school, specifically after I had confronted him on a situation involving a girl that crossed certain boundaries he failed to understand and coincidentally after I’d trusted him with the sacred and vulnerable parts of me in bed, for the first time.

I pressed my fingernails on the pads of my thumb, alternating each finger with different points of pressure as I always found comfort in the slight pain that it would bring. I thought of it as a reminder of reality and it helped me take my mind off of things by focusing on the feeling of discomfort it brought.

With an exhausted sigh, I checked the time on my phone and saw I still had about 10 minutes to endure. I tossed the device to the side and began bringing out the disinfectant spray to deal with the used skates scattered across the counter, seeing that there were no more customers coming through.

Although I spoke too soon as the sound of the revolving doors to the rink came to an audible thud which followed 2 other thuds. I didn’t even bother to turn around to know that there were 3 people that just had entered the building, but it came to a surprise when I found only one guy standing patiently in front of the desk. As soon as he saw me, he stared at me in bewildered shock as if I had caught him off guard. Consciously, I reached up to touch my face bashfully, instantly thinking if there had been something bizarre on it.

He noticed this immediately and waved in off apologetically. “Oh no, I’m so sorry, that was quite rude of me” He chuckled lightheartedly, placing his hand over mine instinctively on the desk. “I-I thought you looked...familiar, per say” He explained queerly, taking his hand away and placing it on his chest diplomatically, looking at me with regretful eyes.

“Oh that’s okay, don’t worry about it. I had thought there was something wrong with my face” I laughed off, tucking a stray hair behind my ear, smiling at him.

“Well I find nothing wrong with your face” He confessed smoothly, beaming at me with an infectious smile. “Jonathan” He stated, extending his hand out to shake mine.

“Y/N” I replied, returning the gesture, fighting off the rosy color threatening to paint my cheeks as I absentmindedly checked the time again; my shift ending in 5 minutes. “Can I help you with anything, Jonathan?” I inquired, remembering I was still on the job.

“Oh yeah, I’m here with 2 other friends-well I’m more so third wheeling- but can I get 2 size 10s in Mens and a size 7 in Womens?” He ordered.

“Where are these 2 other friends? Are they coming in later?” I asked, but then felt a little intrusive as I inquired about his business. Turning around, I looked through the racks of skates and found the requested sizes.

“Oh I came in with them, they’re just getting lockers for us”

Facing him again, I handed him the 3 pairs with a smile. “That’ll be $21 dollars in rentals” I calculated, taking his credit card from him through this little transaction. “Okay you’re all set, enjoy”.

He silently nodded at me with a comical salut and began walking towards the side of the rink where the lockers were. Maybe it was the nosy part of me, but I extended my head to the side, attempting to see who he was talking about. Although, I wish I hadn’t as my stomach sank and saliva had got caught in my esophagus to the point where I started to cough violently.

In all his fame and glory, there stood Timothee chatting about, with a girl entangled in his arms. His green meadow eyes twinkled while talking to Jonathan, the luminescent fractals of color only enhancing his facial features.

Hastily, I pressed my nails dangerously to my thumb, wincing as I broke the skin’s surface and drops of blood seeped through. “Shit” I whispered in pain, not knowing how to feel as the intensity of shock and emotional turmoil overcame me.

I grabbed a band aid from the first aid kit glued to the wall, meanwhile checking the time. My phone read 8:34 and the wave of relief I received never felt so satisfying.

‘God I will be forever grateful to you, I pledge my full loyalty. Oh thank you, thank you, merci, salamat, gracias, obrigado, just thank you’

Swiftly, I grabbed my coat and bag from under the desk in indisputable excitement. Hoping over the desk and jogging towards the doors with a skip in my step, not even bothering to put on my jacket as I just wanted to be out of this trying atmosphere.

Until, the unfortunate sound of my name echoed through the stadium.

“Hey Y/N! Come join us”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I gingerly spun around, cringing when 3 pairs of eyes where on me. Especially the green eyes full of perplexity and awe as the mention of my name resonated with him.

‘For fucks sake. You had one job God, just one job’

While my ‘graceful and elegant’ complaints permeated my head space, I put on a fake smile and pretended to listen with enthusiasm. “Oh no, it’s quite okay. I wouldn’t want to intrude” I rejected, hoping he’d withdraw his offer.

“No it’ll be fine Y/N” He reassured, beckoning me with the wave of his arm. “Please, give me the honor of showing you a good time” He proposed with an exaggerated posh accent, bowing down at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Um...I mean” I locked eyes with Timothee, searching for any evidence of comfort or reassurance, but he was just as dumbfounded as I was. “Sure?” I replied, sounding more like a question than a straight answer.

I rested my things down behind the desk, grabbing the pair of skates I kept by my desk and somehow got my legs to progress forward, feeling every fiber in my body ignite in anxiety as I got closer to the group. I maneuvered my way to the benches and began tying my laces agonizingly slow, hoping that Jonathan would change his mind, in which I would have a perfectly formulated response.

Memories of ice skating with Timmy soon captured my thoughts and the nostalgia softened any resentful bone in my body. I bit off the loose skin on my lips, steadily reinforcing the knot I had made with the lace and with a sigh, I got up with heavy weights on my shoulders.

A bubbling sensation of apprehension arose from my stomach as I stepped onto the ice, feeling the sudden change of surface area on the pads of my feet. The luxury of maneuvering through the ice smoothly gave me confidence at the encounter, especially when Jonathan complimented my abilities. I avoided any eye contact with Timmy and kept my head low while I approached Jonathan’s side, but also making sure that I seemed present and interested for his sake.

We made a few rounds around the rink, Timothee somehow separating from the both of us to come to his girl’s aid whenever she failed to keep her balance while ‘skating’; well, more so pushing off the wall 90% of the time. Although she was quite pretty, she had brunette hair that ran long till her waist and radiating tan skin that looked like the sun puked her out. Timmy grabbed her hand, pulling her next to him as he held her up, laughing in the process as she still slipped and slided.

Rolling my eyes in resentment, I crossed my arms diving deep into my thoughts.

‘Gosh, imagine not knowing how to skate properly’

Wait, why was I judging her? I could possibly not be thinking about this now. I’m with an amazing guy with a charming personality. But the thing is, I barely even know Jonathan. But I’m supposed to be having a good time, right? I love skating. But you did love Timmy more, didn’t you?. But, Jonathan has pretty eyes. Well, where do you think your fascination of pretty eyes came from?

An incoherent grumble slipped out as my mind malfunctioned, putting it into overdrive while also, cutting Jonathan off as he was speaking about something I had completely tuned out. “So that was my tri- Wow was my story that boring?” he asked unsurely, rubbing the back of his head while trying to remain a cool exterior.

“Oh my god, I’m so- I’m so sorry, I just blacked out there” I covered my face with my palms in embarrassment, my sentence coming out mumbled. “I just...I guess I just have a lot to bear in mind” I justified pitifully, glancing at the young and happy couple frolicing around on ice a few meters away from me.

Jonathan followed the direction I was looking at and nodded. “Penny for your thoughts? Reminiscing on before?” He inquired, biting his bottom lip.

I spun around in a haste, titling my head to side. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand” I explained, confused at his ambiguous question.

He pulled me off to the side, leading us to where the penalty box was. “I have to be honest with you, I knew who you were before we initially met” He confessed, looking at me with a conciliatory expression, like if he were a little kid confessing that he broke his mother’s expensive china and was ready to repent.

“I’m still not understanding” I responded cooly, pushing myself away a few inches, increasing the distance between us as an uneasy feeling crept under my skin.

He lifted himself onto the open side of railing, patting the seat next to him, in which I carefully reciprocated, still leaving that distance. He looked up at the high ceiling, swinging his feet in thought, before saying nonchalantly, “I know that you and Chalamet over there went out” He looked over at me with a calm expression, gazing at my dismayed reaction.

As an attempt to keep my composure, I twiddled my thumbs, pressing onto the bandaid as I swallowed the improper slurs I would’ve used if I was on my own time. “I-um” I started, scratching the back of my head in order to process this new information or if my ears were deceiving me and this was all one big trick. “What do you mean- like how do you- like what?” Shaking my head, puzzled with confusion, I hopped off the side and stood on my skates, peering at him.

“I know you and Timo-” he began again

“Yes I heard, but how?” I cut him off rudely, not wanting him to repeat the same phrase like he did, as my ears might threaten to fall off and die at the sound of his acknowledgement, ending up like pruned up male parts.

Shrugging his shoulders, he soon hopped off the railing too, explaining, “Me and Tim go to university together and you were the first thing me and him ever talked about. I remember he would go on and on about you after your guys’ break up” He professed, fixating his attention to Timmy.

I know I shouldn’t feel like this, but the devil on my shoulder claimed this to be a small petty victory. It’s very infantile of me to even consider so as this was almost a year ago and I should be moving on to become an independent woman, or as my horoscope on Monday said so.

With all these recurring feelings and hesitations, all I could do was chuckle and dive into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. I bent over grabbing my knees as the hysterics came over me, tears brimming at the corners of my eyes.

Jonathan soon joined the infectious bubble of laughter, adding onto the entire comical event. “Are you okay?” He asked, in the midst of giggles and stifled coughs.

I placed my palm over my chest, inhaling and exhaling in order to slow my heartbeat to be able to respond. Jonathan then came in close proximity, wiping away the happy tears that shed down my cheek, taking in my tomato like appearance with eyes full of wonder and content. I stared back up at his in enjoyment, coming off the high we were just put in.

“I’m sorry, I find this all to be hysterical” I admitted, stepping away from his caress and smoothing out the pleated folds that had appeared on my sweater from when I bent over.

Although something did come into mind. “Why did you ask me to skate with you, if you knew me and Timmy had a thing back then?”

“Well I mean, I’m not the type of guy to pass up opportunities, and who would pass up a chance to spend time with a pretty girl like you?” He declared, showing off his pearly whites, just like when we had met.

“But isn’t that like, breaking the bro code or something?”

“Well I mean, Timmy’s out on his- what 4th, maybe 5th date this month- I’m sure he won’t mind” He justified, chuckling light-heartedly.

Narrator’s POV

With that the two skated away worry-free, completely oblivious to the pretty-eyed, brunette French boy that stole brisk glances at the interaction of his best friend and his ex-best friend.

part 2

---

A/N: That’s part one, I know there wasn’t a lot of Timmy’s presence here, but I promise in the next one there will :) it’s a new year and I guess it’s senior year of High school that’s getting to me lol

#timothee #timothee chalamet #timothee imagine #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet imagines #timmy chalamet #chalamet #cmbyn #call me by your name #chalamet imagines #chalamet imagine #tchalamet #timothee imagines #timothée hal chalamet #text: timothee #winter #ice skating #ice rink #some dude named Jonathan that tries to seduce you

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seriouslyblacklikemysoul · 5 years ago

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An Ephemeral Eternity in Seven Parts - Steve Rogers x Reader

MASTERLIST Warnings: Gifs aren’t mine. My English. Also, last sentence - well, maybe it’s the start of something new. Word Count~ 7k. Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI PART VII

The melancholic notes of the guitar accompanied her soft and broken voice in a song that reminded very much of a lamentation of her past, her present and her future.

Everything she touched, begun to decay. Everyone she loved, had only ended up unloved, depressed, addicted or alone. It had made her wonder if she was the one; if she was the wolf dressed as the little red riding hood. What if everyone around her was simply a helpless sheep and to prowl for her next meal she clothed herself in love and kindness, only to poison those closest to her until they are damaged beyond repair. She could only ever ruin so many relationships before she understood that the devil lived inside of her making her a toxic landfill disguised in fake beautiful grass and flowers - she had never been afraid of the monster in her closet, she had always been terrified by the one she saw in the mirror. She didn't remember which night it was - the one she left, like a thief, not making a sound, knowing that he heard her. It made her decision easier when he didn't even try to stop her. It was selfish - he had been badly broken too. She felt the failure calling out her name - she couldn't make it better for him because she was a mess. She had lost herself and she wasn't sure she wasn't sure she wanted to be found. And so she left. She took a few clothes with her and left. She had no solid plan for her days ahead. She couldn't find a point to it. She had wandered aimlessly when she found herself in a small city that did not speak English. She had smiled painfully to herself. A stranger among strangers.

Not long after her decision to stay there for a while, she had to find a way to earn some money in order to get by. The kind old lady, who had helped her with almost everything, seeing in her face the granddaughter she had lost just mere weeks before she turned up in her door - since she was one of the very few people who spoke English - had offered her a job she thought it would suit her. There was a small place where those who stayed behind went to drink and listen to old and soft songs about loss, love and pain. They were missing a singer. She had thought why not. Isabella had been nothing but kind and sweet, just like a real grandmother - not that she had met one. "Grief is a deeply personal and solitary journey. No one can truly feel or understand your loss but you, even those who have experienced it themselves. But grief is also love, and for that reason it has a right to exist and be felt. It is the debt we owe our memories. It is the final way we love someone" she had soothed her after the first time she heard her sing. There was pain in her voice, even when she sung in Spanish. She had never believed it would cost her everything. Yet, it did.

Months flew by as she had fallen into a simple yet so human routine. Many handsome men had threw themselves to her but she had closed herself, letting no one in. She had lost people along the way. She had left others behind. She had cut them out of her life, sometimes uncertain if it was the right decision. Looking back, she had done things she might have regretted now. This quieter life she had now was closer to the one she had been dreaming the cold nights that she had been held by HYDRA or trained by Madam B. She couldn't sake the feeling that something was missing - she was different and she hadn't ever realized. The girl from her past wasn't the woman she had grown to be. "Hay un hombre guapo buscándote, cariño" Isabella suddenly told her, making her slightly jump from the couch she had been seated for at least two hours, starring at the wall. Seeing her lost eyes, Isabella sat down next to her and took her hands in hers. "Listen, cariño. Love transcends gender, age, political beliefs; it crosses borders. It’s literally the strongest motivator and force we have. It makes people do things they can’t explain. And it comes in all forms and it comes when you least expect it and it comes and it goes and it changes and people have spent years and wrote books and studied the stars trying to understand it. And sometimes it’s the boy you called over to get over, the boy you were crying about and sometimes it’s the girl you grew up next door to your whole life and sometimes it’s a friend who saved your soul or a baby you didn’t expect. But it’s all around us in forms yet to be manifested- letters yet to be written, hands yet to be held. And all goodness stems from it and it literally changes the world. So even though it sometimes causes us pain and it drags us into situations we didn’t ask for, we can never close ourselves off to it or give up on it. We have to keep loving because it’s the closest thing we have to magic and without it we’re just a conscious pile of bones and life means nothing. Ve hacia el" and just like that, from the mouth of someone who used to be a stranger, the entire meaning of life and love and pain was summed up into a minute of hope. Isabella had lost her son and her granddaughter, everyone she ever loved and yet, there she was telling her to embrace life with its bad and its good. Tears she had no idea when they escaped, were running down her face. "Mi bella Isabella, gracias por tu sabiduría. Gracias por tu amor. But if I go to him, I'll leave you and I can't do that to you" she told her truthfully. Isabella just shook her head and smiled. "I'll always be here. Go to him, cariño". She kissed her cheek and hugged her as tightly as she would love to be hugged. She had been everything she was missing.

As the song went on, her eyes fell on him - he had just entered the place. And every memory she kept tacked away, came back rushing through her veins. In her head, she could hear Isabella's words but her heart just didn't want to get hurt again. She knew the moment he talked to her, she would succumb her entire being to his hands.

War was the only dance he had ever known and she wished they could have had more time amid the chaos and fire and blood to show him that there could be another way. She fell in love with the way he saw the world, the way he saw her... She fell in the chasm of his soul and his light. She would gladly drown in the darker half of the sea to hold him in her arms for more than just that single night of peace. She had been aware that they had met and they had loved in a warzone and even though his kisses had melted away the gunfire, they still held echoes of the fire burning in him but she knew hers were the same. He had been worth the risk time and time again because with his hand burning into her skin, she had hope once more ... and the blood that had stained him couldn't take away his goodness and the stars that had betrayed him, didn't mean she forsaken her devotion. There had always been a rage built inside their souls, just like this love was worthy of burning empires down ... screams that follow them all the way home only to be quieted when she kissed the blood from his lips... and even when the universe will force them to part he will remain, echoing in her heart that only belonged to him. She knew that they were the ugly parts of the love story but she also knew they were the beautiful ones too. The song came to an end and she went to the table she held every night, the one far away from the lights and the people. Eyes never leaving his, she nodded for him to join her, as she poured herself a glass of red wine. He had never been so afraid of a moment and its impact. He had no idea what to say to her or how to be around her, when she poured and offered him another glass of wine. "I didn't know you could sing" he told her before he hid his face in his hands, only to resurface as red as a tomato. She tried to swallow her laughter but failed. "You're still not good with women, Steve" and just by saying his name, her heart places itself in his hands. He smiled brightly even though he had messed up his opening line, it had worked out. She was sipping her wine with a fondness he had never seen before. Maybe leaving was the best thing she had done - and he would be selfish to ask her back. Again. Not leaving her alone, to decide her own path. He needed her in a way he hadn't needed anyone since... "I will come back Steve. But I need you to promise me that we will search and search over and over again for a way to undo this -and if we don't find one it will be because there isn't, not because we overlooked it" she told him boldly with her eyes a soft lilac color, as she looked over her shoulder, signaling to someone to approach them He was taken aback. He believed that she wouldn't even want to talk about what had happened. He had seen the way Bucky had looked at her before he... and he had already suspected his feelings towards her. Steve knew it had a great impact on her - not that it had been the only reason for her breakdown. After realizing her new powers she had refused to use them because they were the reason half of the planet was dead. He looked at her with a new found admiration - she was the bigger person. "Of course. May I ask why?" he prepared himself to hear a reason he wouldn't like, instead, his heart broke a little bit more. She smiled and stood up to give her sit to an old woman he had never seen before. It was the first time Steve saw this side of her. "Isabella, este es Steve. Ese hombre guapo que me estaba buscando" she spoke in Spanish making him question if he knew her at all. Isabella took his hands into hers and looked at him just like his mother would have, which caused some tears to appear. They got to know each other and he realized that she had never felt the love of a family - and she craved it. When Isabella said her goodnight, having already invited him to spend the night in her house, she grew quiet. She knew he was waiting for an answer. "She is the reason why. She lost everything - her son, her granddaughter - and yet she hasn't lost hope. She told me to live life with everything that comes with it and embrace it because it's all we got. She is the reason I am talking to you. She told me 'go to him' because love is the closest thing we have to magic and I couldn't just tell her I have magic running through my veins but couldn't save her family" she said with fire in her words and determination pouring over her.

It felt wrong. Being back, felt wrong. She had followed him once again, but this time she hadn't found the people she had last time. She felt out of time – as if she didn’t belong. No one was waiting for her; Natasha was broken and Tony was nowhere near the place. Maybe she had been naïve for trusting him again; deep down she knew the only thing they had been left with was bitterness. She spent her days reading, training and trying out different things. Steve had an unhealthy need to fill Sam’s shoes as he had begun some group session. The irony was obvious to her; He was telling them, urging them to move on while he would never. She had seen as much in his eyes when they were talking about his past and the beginnings of his story – way before he became Captain America. There was one particular story he didn’t feel like sharing and she understood why – but also bothered her. She had kept her promise and had searched everything in order to find a way to undo this. She had spent days and nights looking for an answer. There had been times she felt so useless she wouldn’t get out of her room – nobody dared to disagree with her on those days. Slowly yet steadily, Steve and her grew distant and she felt as if they were miles apart even when they were sitting right next to each other. Being positive had never been one of her assets and that fake optimism Steve had, got on her nerves. Then again, maybe it was just his way of coping with the events. She had found herself longing to leave the base and go back to Isabella’s house more than enough times to realize that she never felt at home in the Avenger’s base. And the years flew by without even noticing it. The only thing new must had been the fact that she met Carol, a woman with many of her own powers and a life experience to match them. Other than that, Natasha had been obsessing over Clint – who had gone dark after his family disappearance. She could never say that all of those people had died – they had just dusted away. Which was the same and she had been fooling herself for a very long time. Steve had been the positive fucking little unicorn in front of others but he was so lost when they were alone. A raccoon was sending them emails with reports and Nebula wanted to get revenge a tad more than all of them combined. She knew things were bound to be different, but she couldn’t recognize anything anymore. She had been drifted away from those around her because she didn’t feel a connection to them anymore – the only thing they had in common was anger. She had just made a cup of coffee when Steve walked in, finding Natasha on the verge of crying as he went on about the bright side, but Nat wasn’t having it. She just plopped down next to Natasha, smiling towards Steve without even bothering to listen to their conversation but her eye caught something. Something unexpected. “Oh! Hi. Hi! Is anyone home? This is Scott Lang. We met a few years ago, at the airport? In Germany? I got really big, and I had my mask on. You wouldn't recognize me” Scott Lang was rumbling on at their front gate. Before she could register their reactions, she had buzzed him in and left the room running towards him. “Have you ever studied Quantum Physics?” Scott asked them a moment later. “Only to make conversation” came a sarcastic answer by Natasha, which didn’t bring him down. “Alright. So... five years ago, right before Thanos, I was in a place called the Quantum Realm. The Quantum Realm is like its own microscopic universe. To get in there, you have to be incredibly small. Hope, she's my... She was my... She was supposed to pull me out. And then Thanos happened, and I got stuck in there” he said while he was struggling not to tell the entire truth about their relationship. “I'm sorry. That must've been a very long five years” Natasha sincerely told him only to be shocked when he replied the most unbelievable thing. “Yeah, but that's just it. It wasn't. For me, it was five hours”. Steve and Nat shared a quick bewildered glance, while she had figured it out, because she had indeed studied Quantum Physics. “See, the rules of the Quantum Realm aren't like they are up here. Everything is unpredictable. Is that anybody's sandwich? I'm starving” Scott said as he strode over to pick up Nat's sandwich, and bit into it. “Scott, what are you talking about?” Steve asked him confused and puzzled. “What he is saying is, time works differently in the Quantum Realm” she chimed in, gaining a strange look from Steve and a very impressed one from Scott. “The only problem is right now, we don't have a way to navigate it. But what if we did? I can't stop thinking about it. What if, we could somehow control the chaos, and we could navigate it? What if there was a way to enter the Quantum Realm at a certain point in time but then exit at another point in time? Like...” he went on. “Like before Thanos” she half-whispered. “Wait, are you two talking about a time machine?” Steve asked as he couldn’t believe his ears. “No. No, of course not. No, not a time machine. It's more like a... Yeah, a time machine. I know it's crazy. But I can't stop thinking about it. There's gotta be some way... There's gotta be...some w... it's crazy” his craziness was making her head dizzy. She knew they would have to talk to her father, sooner or later. She hoped it would be later but that was not gonna the case. “Scott, I get e-mails from a raccoon, so nothing sounds crazy anymore” Nat reassured him. “So who do we talk to about this?” Scott cut to the chase and everyone looked at her.

They pulled over at his cabin and one by one got out of the car. Tony looked at them and she could tell that he was not looking forward to the discussion about to take place. He acknowledged her with a single hey, and so she decided to let them talk in peace while she was gazing at the lake from afar. "I know you got a lot on the line. You got a wife, a daughter. But I lost someone very important to me. A lot of people did. And now, now we have a chance to bring her back. To bring everyone back. And you're telling me that won't even... “ his voice got louder as he tried to sell his desperation to Tony. “That's right, Scott, I won't even. I got a kid” Tony simply told them, making her remark. “Yeah, now he’s got a kid” she retorted, making him realize what he had just said. As on cue, Morgan run to her dad, who picked her up. “Mommy told me to come and save you. And to tell to the pretty girl to stay a while” Morgan told him as she pointed at his other daughter. “Good job. I'm saved. I wish you'd come here to ask me something else. Anything else. Honestly, I... I missed you guys, it was... Oh, and table's set for six” he went on and informed them. “Tony, I get it. And I'm happy for you, I really am. But this is a second chance” Steve tried to reason with him but she already knew he wasn’t gonna give up just yet. He had to solve it on his own. “I got my second chance right here, Cap. I can't roll the dice again. If you don't talk shop, you can stay for lunch. And you should stay for a while” he concluded as he turned to face her. She smiled at him. She was going to stay a while and Steve saw it. It was hard to say goodbye but unfortunately it had become easier with the years. Steve, Nat and Scott were walking back to their car outside Tony's house as she was stepping inside, hugging Pepper. She could feel him slipping away from her life but she didn’t know how to keep him there – well, she didn’t even know if he wanted to be there anymore.

The day had been quiet, Pepper was an amazing mother and Tony was trying to be a great dad but he knew that he had failed once before, so he wasn’t hoping for much. They had lunch and she met Morgan a bit better. The kid was smart, but that didn’t come as a surprise, it was rather a given. “So how do you two know each other?” she asked suspiciously as she eyed her. Tony almost chocked but she kept her calm, as she was sipping a glass of wine. “We used to work together for a project, sweetie” she smoothly told her without raising any suspicion and even thought Tony felt relieved, Pepper shoot him an angry look, making him nod his head as if they made a promise. “You’re an Avenger!” Morgan exclaimed, excited with her new discovery. But before she could say a thing, Morgan begun asking questions – more questions than anyone before, leaving her stumped. “Honey, come on. Don’t bombard her with your questions. Wanna help me with dessert?” Pepper came to the rescue quickly and she couldn’t be more thankful. Silence fell and it was awkward because no one was going to break it first and Pepper knew as she said louldy "talk". Both of them rolled their eyes at that. "She is smart, that's from your side and she is beautiful - that's all Pepper" she commented shortly after. He almost laughed at her quick comeback. "How are you? How are things back?" he asked her sincerely, trying to make up for all the lost time. She shook her head, not wanting to lie. Something he understood very well. "Let me guess. You have been drifted away from people, especially Steve" he made a wild guess and he knew he was right. She stopped hiding her feelings. "Everything I thought I had is no longer. That's why I came here with them. They are asking you to be a hero and save the world. I just wanted to ask you a favor. A while back, I... I left and went -" "To a nice lady called Isabella, who lost her son and granddaughter" he finished her sentence for her, leaving her puzzled. "What? Did you really think I wasn't looking after you?" he asked her. "Well, you left to start a family and didn't even call, so... um. I should have" she concluded at last. He disagreed with her. She had stayed there, not to ask him to fight with them, but to help her find a way, because she knew that there was going to be o return for him and she wanted Morgan to have both of her parents and to feel loved. One of his daughters should.

She was just watching him work from the couch as she was drinking a hot cup of tea. “Look at a mod inspiration, let me see what check out. So, recommend one last sim before we pack it in for the night” he gave orders to his computer. “Maybe in the shape of a mobius strip, inverted, don’t you think?” she commented as she took a look to the holographic experiment. He agreed with an impressed look. “Do as the lady suggests” he informed Friday. “Processing... “ “Give me that eigenvalue. That, particle factoring, and a spectral decomp. That will take a second” he had just stepped away, towards the couch but it was not to be. “And don't worry if it doesn't pan out. I'm just kinda –“ “Model rendered” Friday announced sending waves of bewilderments down her spine. Tony in a complete shock of amazement as the render came back as 99.987% successful, fell back ecstatic by this discovery. “Shit!” they both exclaimed at the same time. “Shit” Morgan giggled as she repeated the word they had just uttered. Tony took on the father roll quicker than she had thought as he nodded to her to take care of everything that had just been projected while he took Morgan away. They had solved time travel. They had actually found out how to go back in time. Her mind was blown away just by looking at it. As she was walking around the holographic model, Pepper came down the stairs looking for her. “You should rest honey. It’s late” she told her like a mother would. She smiled at her and waited for Tony to get back. “Maybe it’s not” she told her, leaving her puzzled. They both sat on the couch, Pepper reading a book and she was just thinking of the endless possibilities. People less lucky than her would get to see the sun again. Isabella’s family. Spider-kid, Wanda, Strange, Bucky. Oh Gods, Bucky. She had tried to forget about him and how much it had affected her. It had been one of the few failures of her life. “Not that it's a competition, but she loves me 3000. You were somewhere on the low 6 to 900 range” Tony announced as he joined them and got Pepper to scoff. “What are you reading?” he asked absentmindedly as she noticed. “Oh, it's just a book on composting” Pepper told him, making her long for a simple life once more. “What's new with composting?” he asked again without really wanting an answer. Before she could, he cut her off. “We figured it out, by the way” he blurred out, pointing at his daughter proudly. “You know, just so we're talking about the same thing –“ Pepper tried to catch up on their new discovery, very happy they were working together. “Time travel” he simply informed like it was nothing. “What? Wow... That's amazing, and... terrifying. Oh, that’s why you told me maybe it’s not late” she told him amazed as she turned to her still very much astonished. “We got really lucky” she commented and both of them agreed. “Yeah, I know” her father said a tad sad. “A lot of people didn't” Pepper softly nudged him. “No, I can't help everybody” he tried to be civilized and open for debate about it. “It sorta seems like you can. Both of you” his wife disagreed. “Not if I stop. I can put a pin in it right now, and stop” he insisted but they all new what was about to happen. “Tony, trying to get you to stop has been one of the few failures of my life” Pepper echoed her thought from moments ago. Tony smiled proudly about that very fact. “I sometimes feel I should put it in a locked box and drop it at the bottom of a lake... go to bed” he had almost given up on saying no. He wasn’t able to deny that she was right. “But would you be able to rest?” her soft voice pierced through his head. “And neither would you. I know that you left at some point because the memories were too much” she told her with honesty. She couldn’t believe how selfless Pepper was being about something so dangerous. “Come on, kiddo. It’s time to sleep. Tomorrow we are gonna go on a trip” Tony urged his daughter. She could get use to that. “Goodnight Pepper. Goodnight To-… dad” she finally told him, making him smile in pure happiness for the first time in a while.

The whole world was changing and she had been a part of that very fact. Every plan, every strategy and every theory had been mapped out but she knew that sometimes, even the cleverest of minds can miss a point – so small that no one could have seen. Wanda was trying destroy Thanos, having cost everything to her, Scott and Hope were trying to kick start the engine of the van and everyone was trying to get the gauntlet as far away as possible, without it being very easy of a task.

Pepper landed next to Okoye, followed by Mantis, Shuri, the Wasp, Gamora, Nebula and herself much to everyone else’s opinion – they all thought she was going to be right by Steve. Thanos' army charged while they helped Carol Danvers gey through the Outriders, Sakaarans and Chitauri. When Carol and she flew towards the van with the Gauntlet, Thanos, after being stopped by Pepper, Shuri and Hope, threw his double sword at the van, destroying it completely. He knocked Carol down and smacked Tony away as Thor arrived in an attempt to pin Thano’s arm down – Steve came rushing towards them, helping Thor but they were all overpowered. In a desperate attempt, when she saw Thanos picking up the gauntlet she punched him away. Thanos grabbed her by the arm and threw her away like she weighted nothing. Thanos put on the gauntlet, gamma radiation from the stones all over his body, as he tried to snap, but she arose again, and stopped his fingers from snapping, opening up his hand similar to what she had seen Steve doing in the other battle. She almost had him, forcing him onto his knees, as her powers were finally enough, she was ready to steal the stones herself. She knew she could take them on – she was part of them and they were part of her. But alas, he pulled the Power Stone out of the Gauntlet and used it in his free hand to hit her away, almost killing her in the prosses. Tony was looking at his daughter terrified and too scared to think of what might happen. He made one last attack on Thanos, having an entirely different plan on his mind. Thanos pushed him away, ending up right next to his older daughter. All it took was one look and she knew – before she could anything at all, everything was already over. “I am inevitable” Thanos snapped his fingers, but nothing happened. He saw that the stones were missing. “NO!” she screamed but Tony simply smiled at her. s except a metallic "clink." He sees the Infinity Stones are missing.

“And I– am– Iron Man”.

The cruelest thing that someone had done to her was first claim to love her more than anything in the world. That he had never seen anything as exquisite as her. That she was every star in the night sky. That he would never leave her. And then one day, out of the blue he did. He lulled her into a false sense of security, convincing her that this, this is the forever love she have been looking for. This is the kind of love she needed all this time, the kind of love she had craved and let her get comfortable in it because it would last. And then, one day, he walked away. He made her believe that there would never be another. And then one day, he forgot her. He simply left without warning after promising her eternity. How ephemeral it turned out to be... It had been years since he came back. Not him - not her Steve. Peggy's Steve. She had refused to meet him - she had refused to even look at him, or be in the same building. She felt betrayed. She had lost Natasha as she had sacrificed herself to get the fucking Soul Stone. She had lost her father and that felt on her - she still felt responsible. And then Steve had decided to leave her all alone to fight her demons after constantly reassuring her he loved her. But he caught her by surprise, when he entered her office, as she was now in charge of everything her father once held - Morgan was too young and Pepper wanted some time off with her daughter. He knocked the door, waited for her to call him in and he entered. She had been facing the other way, on a phone call but the minute she turned and faced him, her phone fell on the floor and her heart skipped more beats than she could count. "Hello, Ms.. Stark. Do you have a minute for an old friend?" he was being polite as well as sarcastic but her mind had already imploded, so what the fuck? Gaining some of her confidence back, she raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "We were never friends, Mr. Rogers" she fired coldly but he knew her better and she hated it. He looked at her and all it took was a moment. He too raised his eyebrow and walked towards her with absolutely no intention of leaving. Before she could register his acts, he had enveloped her in to his big hug and she felt so fucking angry - it still felt like home. Without even knowing it, she was crying with her head almost resting on his chest. "It’s weird. It’s weird how you have the same face but you’re a completely different person. It’s weird how I have so many amazing memories with you but they died off as you’re a completely different person. It’s weird that I’m mourning over someone that is still alive because you’re a completely different person. It’s weird, you’re a completely different person. And I hate you for leaving me, but I can never really hate you because I love you" she told him as he sat them down to her couch. She left his arms to look at him. She lowered her walls and finally opened up to him again. "If I could do it all again, I would stay up later. I would ask more questions, unashamed of how personal they were and not afraid that I wouldn’t like the answers. If I could start over with you, I wouldn’t doubt my instincts. I wouldn’t fear what people thought if I catered to your every whim and laughed at every stupid joke. If I could try again, I would embrace every moment of every fight and ask for everything I needed from you. I wouldn’t worry if I was too needy, too attached, too much of anything. I would be myself more. I would scream louder. I wouldn’t hesitated to tell you I love you, in every way, every day. If I could do it again, I would not love you in halting steps always looking for some sort of validation that I was stepping on solid ground. I would jump into you and if you didn’t catch me, then I would still be picking up the same broken pieces I am now" she sincerely told him. She had lost both her friend and her father, both of them in the name of salvation and then Steve choose to leave her and go back. She had refused to exist for a while because she couldn't function. As everything crumbled around her, she had looked for a something to hold on to, but those closest couldn’t hear her amidst their screaming matches. She looked for those who swore to be there during her weakest moment only to see the illusion fade away leaving only crossed fingers, emptiness, and disappointment. She was done searching for someone, when someone did appear. Without even thinking about it, he wiped a single tear that ran across her cheek. He wasn't her Steve, but those eyes... "I never believed that I would have felt the way you made me feel after all those years in the ice. I owe you everything. And repaying you in the way I did... I wouldn't have forgiven me if I were you. An apology won't help, I know. For what it’s worth, you will always hold a special place" he told her in tender way that reminded her of their story and more tears found their way out. And he wiped every single one of them. She could tell from the way he hugged her when he saw her. He had kept the silent promise he had made when she was too drunk to remember what she had asked of him. Years had passed since she allowed herself to see him again. After saying a polite hello, they hugged like friends did. But then he squeezed her a little tighter right before he let go. She had almost rested her head on his chest out of habit, because it suddenly felt just like old times. She had thought she'd never be in his embrace again but there they were. They both wanted to hold on tighter but they knew they were different now. But she could tell from the way he hugged her, from the way he held on just a little longer, that somewhere, deep down... "I missed you too" she smiled at him, a strange but very much wanted feeling of relief washing over her heart. They both knew, no one could stop loving. Once you have loved someone honestly, truly, you will never be able to un-love them. You can only find someone you will love more. At that time, your old love will not feel so strong, but it will always be in your heart, it will never let you forget something that at some point along the way made you happy. "You hold a special place in someone else's heart too, you know" he commented like a genie. Her eyebrow arched. "Stop playing matchmaker, you old wise owl" she mocked him. At least, she could start again. He still held her face in his hands, he still held a piece of her, he would always be her first love. The bigger the love, the harder the fall. They stayed like that until Bucky walked into her office, looking for her. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously when he saw Steve holding her but he reprimanded himself almost immediately. She saw the way Steve looked up at him and she knew he wanted some alone time him. Leaving his hands was harder than she thought, smiling at all times. "Don't be a stranger, Rogers" she bid him goodbye but his eyes told her this wasn't the last time they would see each other and she found solace. She passed Bucky in her way out, smiling brightly to him, making his eyes sparkle in hope. She had just left the room when she heard Steve being completely honest.

"She is different now. I was too much of a punk to see how beautiful she really was. Her heart was beautiful, she cared so much about me and I never understood why. I don't think I treated her the way she deserves to be treated - but you do. Don't look at me like that, Bucky. I am old, not blind. I can see the way you two look at each other. Back then, her love scared me, it was so intense. I almost forgot how enticing her smile was. She just wasted so many tears on someone like me and for that I will never forgive me" he told his friend but his mind was someplace else. She smiled to herself and finally left them alone. Whatever was to come, she would face it. Finding closure had never been about forgetting. It had never been about drowning out the voices of her past or about closing her heart to memories that used to make you happy. Finding closure meant accepting a situation for what it was and moving on. It was coming to terms with the way things were and knowing that she couldn't change what had happened, but could still find growth among the broken pieces.

_____

“I am so glad I got my heart broken. It led me to you”. ____

Taglist: @accio-rogers @coffee-with-orion @stydia-4-ever @smilexcaptainx @elliee1497

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madpanda75 · 5 years ago

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A fic idea for nevada or Barba where you bring home an abandoned cat or dog and they're just super grumbly about it and don't like it and then end up jealous because you spend all your time and energy with the pet before they eventually come round

First of all, @walkingsnowman, you have the patience of a saint! I’m combining this with @thatesqcrush‘s request “Pipe the fuck down, asshole” from the “five word prompt list.” Thank you guys soooo much for your requests! I’m sorry it took me forever to write.

Hope you all like this! Get ready for fluffy soft Nevada (well….maybe not so fluffy). ❤️

Check out Part Two

“The Negative” Part One

Place the test stick on a flat surface with the windows facing up for two minutes. Following the instructions exactly, you gingerly placed the pregnancy test on the bathroom counter as if it were a ticking bomb, afraid any sudden movements would cause a catastrophic explosion. Staring down at the test, watching the light blue color swirl across the windows, you silently willed time to move faster. Perhaps it was like that old saying, “A watched pot never boils.”

You stepped back from the bathroom counter and sat on the edge of the tub, picking a hangnail and ruining your new manicure. Two minutes. 120 seconds. In such a short span of time, your life could change completely. This shouldn’t have been a complete surprise. It’s not like you and your boyfriend, Nevada, were careful when it came to using birth control. But were you ready to be someone’s mother? Were you ready to start a family? A family with Nevada Ramirez. Trujillo, himself. The King of the Heights. This was all happening so fast.

You glanced down at your phone and saw two minutes had passed. Taking a deep breath, you walked up to the counter and picked up the test. There it was, a single vertical line. The test was negative. Rather than breathe a sigh of relief, you grabbed another test stick from one of the several boxes you had purchased that morning, not quite trusting the results from the test you just took. The last thing you needed was a false negative and then end up on a crazy reality show where the women don’t realize they’re pregnant until they go to the bathroom and out popped a baby. Nope, better take a few more, just to be sure.

You took three more tests, it was amazing how you could generate enough pee for all of them . All of the tests read the same result. Negative. You should have been doing the happy dance. It should have felt like the weight of the world was lifted off your shoulders, but instead you were disappointed in your body for not being able to get pregnant. Your heart sank.

You quickly threw the tests in the garbage. Sitting on the edge of the tub, you took in large gulps of air, struggling to breathe, a few tears slipping down your cheeks. It felt like the walls were closing in on you. The room was spinning. You had to get out of that apartment. Grabbing the garbage, you threw on a pair of flip flops, took your keys from the counter and left your home, in dire need of fresh air. After tossing the evidence of your wasted afternoon in the dumpster, you started to walk, ignoring the dark ominous clouds looming overhead.

How long had you been walking? You lost count by the twentieth block. For the past week thoughts of babies had been running through your head: kissing chubby cherub cheeks, tickling your son or daughter’s belly making them laugh and squeal in delight, rubbing your nose against the top of their head, inhaling that sweet intoxicating smell that all newborns seemed to have.

Your mind then drifted to Nevada, trying to imagine what he would look like cradling a tiny baby with green eyes and dark hair in his arms. A sad smile tugged at your lips at the image of him lulling his child to sleep with a sweet Spanish lullaby, completely transfixed by the life you both had created. But then reality crept back in, ripping the image from your broken heart. In one day, one line, one result stole that dream away from you and replaced it with fear and uncertainty. What if you could never get pregnant? What if Nevada didn’t want a family?

Nevada may have been terrifying to most people with a pulse but not to you. He surprised you in so many ways. You also surprised him. He realized early on in your relationship not to be deceived by your beauty. You were as tough as nails and gave just as much attitude as he did.

You continued walking, the sky getting darker and darker. A breeze whipped through your hair. You wrapped your arms around your body, shivering as raindrops began to dot your thin tank top. A sudden clap of thunder made you jump in your skin. The sky opened up and rain began to pelt down. You were drenched in a matter of seconds. While everyone ran for cover, you slowly made your way back home, not caring about the rain or anything else in that moment when a tiny mewl caught your attention from an alley beside the sidewalk. The tiny whimpers could barely be heard above the claps of thunder rumbling from above.

You headed into the dark alleyway, weaving around dirty puddles and garbage, trying to find the source of those pathetic noises. “Hello?” You called out before realizing what a fool you must have looked like in that instant, sifting through debris between a Chinese restaurant and a bodega during a rainstorm in search of God knows what. Thankfully, no one was around to notice. Lightning sliced through the sky, illuminating the space around you followed by another loud boom of thunder. You yelped and jumped back, your legs bumping into a small wooden crate covered in soggy newspapers. The crate yowled in response. You bent down and tossed the old papers aside finding a pair of large glowing eyes staring up at you.

*****

Nevada paced back and forth around the living room, glancing outside at the sheet of rain pouring down. He reached into his back pocket for his pack of cigarettes. Shaking one out of the carton, he lit the cigarette and held the smoke in his mouth for a long moment, enjoying the deep burn he felt in his throat. Although you had a hard rule about not smoking in the house, Nevada needed this. The nicotine helped to relieve the tension in his muscles. He had been on edge since early that afternoon when he came home to find you gone. Normally, he wouldn’t think anything of it but when he spied your cell phone and purse on the kitchen counter, he knew something was wrong. You always took your cell phone with you, even if you were going out for a jog around the block.

Nevada may have been King of the Heights, but he certainly didn’t get there without making a few enemies in the process. What if something happened to you? Nevada reached for his phone and called one of his men that he had sent out to troll the neighborhood for you. “Any sign of her?” He asked when his goon answered, taking another long draw from his cigarette.

“Not yet, jefe. We searched in all her usual hangouts,” the man replied.

“Keep looking,” Nevada growled and hung up the phone. He grinded the stub of his cigarette into a discarded magazine on the living room table. “Fuck this,” he muttered, getting up and grabbing his jacket. Nevada was an impatient man. He felt useless and ridiculous standing idly by. Trujillo was not some teenage girl sitting by the phone on a Saturday night. No, he would take matters into his own hands and go look for you himself. He grabbed his keys and opened the door, running smack into you.

You were shivering, soaked to the bone. “Y/N! Where’ve you been? I was just about to go look for you. Are you alright? Are you hurt?” Nevada grabbed you by the shoulders, looking you over for any signs of blood or injuries.

“I’m fine,” you softly said through chattering teeth. “Just decided to go for a walk.”

Nevada stared at you incredulously, ushering you inside. “In the middle of a thunderstorm. Estás loca? Look at you, you’re freezing!” He rubbed your arms, trying to bring some warmth back into your body, ignoring the giant wet black ball of fur you were clutching to your chest.

“It wasn’t raining when I started to walk. Anyways it’s a good thing I went. Look what I found.” You held out what Nevada thought was the ugliest looking animal he had ever seen.

He scowled and backed away. “What the fuck is that?”

“What do you mean “what the fuck is that.” Haven’t you ever seen a cat before?” You turned the cat to face you and made a kissy noise. “I found him in the alley next to Empire Szechuan. Isn’t he cute,” you cooed, bringing the animal back up to Nevada’s face.

Cute wasn’t exactly the first word Nevada would have used to describe the filthy four-legged beast. The cat looked worse for wear. If that thing had nine lives, he definitely didn’t have many left. Chunks of black fur were missing from his body, a piece of his right ear appeared to have been bitten off and perhaps the most unsettling were his eyes. Two mossy green eyes that were crossed. The damn cat couldn’t even see straight.

“He’s…..he’s something, alright,” Nevada slowly said and stepped away from the cross-eyed, mangy feline.

“Can we keep him? Please? He’s all alone in this world. He doesn’t have anywhere to go. He’s an orphan.” You pouted your lips and batted your lashes at Nevada, giving him big doe eyes while bringing the cat up to your cheek. The feline purred as he nuzzled against your face. “Pretty please, Vada.”

Nevada sighed and looked up to the ceiling in defeat, knowing he would cave. You were his kryptonite. He would crawl to the ends of the Earth just to make you happy. “Fine,” he grumbled and rolled his eyes.

“Gracias, mi amor.” You smiled and kissed his cheek, walking past him towards the bedroom, cradling the cat in your arms. “Come on, Vegas. Let’s go get ready for bed,” you cooed.

Nevada whipped around. “Vegas?!”

“Yeah, his name,” you replied, motioning to the cat. “It’s cute, right? Plus I thought it fit cause you and him are very similar. He’s like a mini-Nevada. You wear black, he’s all black. You have green eyes, he has green eyes.”

Nevada frowned at the idea of being compared to a stray animal. “Yeah but mine aren’t crossed.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s not funny, Papi. You’re hurting my baby’s feelings.” You snuggled up to the critter and went into the bedroom, leaving Nevada alone in the middle of the living room. He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose, listening to you talk to the cat from the other room. You were acting strange. Something wasn’t right, he just couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

*****

At some point between your walk and coming back home, you started your period. After putting in a tampon, you washed your hands, staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, feeling completely betrayed by your own body.

“Oye!” Nevada called out from the bedroom. “You ok in there?”

You sniffled and wiped away a few stray tears that had managed to slip out. “I’m fine. I’ll be out in a second.”

You walked out of the master bathroom and crawled into bed. Nevada rolled over and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close to him, your back flush against his chest. “Mmm, you’re still so cold, baby. Want Papi to warm you up?” He slowly began to kiss down your neck. His fingertips trailing down your arm, inching closer to your thigh. He hummed in appreciation while roaming your form. His growing erection rubbing against your backside.

Most nights played out like this with you and Nevada unable to keep your hands off each other. You couldn’t get enough of him, he was like a drug to you. But tonight was different, feeling yourself stiffen under his touch. You didn’t need sex, what you needed in that moment was to be comforted. You turned to face him and grabbed his hands. “Vada, not tonight. I’m sorry. I’m just….not in the mood. Do you think you could just hold me?”

“Of course.” Nevada cupped your face, gently stroking your cheek. There was such sadness in your eyes. A deep despair that unnerved him. “Are you ok?”

You gave him a tight smile and nodded. “I’m fine,” you lied. “I just want to be held, that’s all.” You rested your head on his chest, listening to the thumping of his heart under your ear, your fingers tracing each one of his scars.

Nevada wound an arm around you and rested his cheek against the crown of your head. He had just closed his eyes when he felt a pair of sharp claws digging into his chest followed by a meow. “Oye no!” He scolded when a pair of crossed green eyes looked up at him. “Cats sleep on the floor.”

“Please, Vada. Just tonight. Just this once,” you begged and reached out for Vegas.

He gave you a stern look. “Fine, but just tonight. I mean what if that thing has fleas or something.”

“Vegas doesn’t have fleas,” you said, scratching behind his ear. “He’s perfect.”

The cat made himself comfortable between you and Nevada, circling a few times, his butt getting right in Nevada’s face. “Carajo!” He groaned as the cat’s tail whipped his nose. You giggled and gently took Vegas in your arms, laying your head back on Nevada’s chest. Between the cat and your boyfriend, you finally were able to fall asleep after a long day.

*****

For a tiny cat, Vegas seemed to take up a lot of room. To make matters worse, he also had a preferred sleeping spot— the top of Nevada’s head. Everytime Nevada plucked Vegas up and placed him on the floor, he would jump right back on the bed and get in the same position. This continued throughout the night, until Nevada moved to the living room to sleep on the couch. His efforts proved futile when the cat promptly followed him and leapt right on top of his head yet again. By that point, it was 4 in the morning and Nevada had given up on sleep. Instead he got up and dressed, deciding to leave early to go to the club, thinking he would double check the books and maybe squeeze in a nap on his office couch.

Later that afternoon, Nevada opened the door to your shared home, utterly exhausted. Walking into the foyer, he tripped and nearly broke his neck on a large plastic mouse. Muttering a curse under his breath, he picked up the object in question and tossed it into the living room where he saw the entire floor covered in cat toys. His jaw dropped, eyes widening as he drank in the scene before him. Plush balls, squeaky fishes stuffed with catnip, laser pointers, and cat teasers littered the floor. Nevada cautiously stepped over the toys as if he was in a minefield. He continued to walk through the apartment, noticing a few tiny ridiculous outfits strewn on the dining room table and a deluxe multi-level kitty mansion right next to the television. If it wasn’t for the pictures of you and Nevada adorning the walls, he would’ve swore that he was in some sick twisted version of cat utopia.

“Nevada? Is that you?” You shouted.

“Yeah, I came home early.” Nevada followed the sound of your voice to the kitchen. You were standing at the sink giving Vegas a bath. The cat looked pitiful and less than pleased to be dripping wet. “How was your day?” He asked, warily eyeing the soaking feline while he opened the fridge to grab a beer.

“Vegas and I had a big day. Didn’t we, snookums?” You wrapped a fluffy towel around Vegas and rocked him back and forth. “We went to the vet to get a checkup and then stopped by the pet store to pick up a few things,” you said in a high-pitched baby voice, your eyes never leaving the cat in your arms.

Nevada nearly spat his beer out. “A few things?! Carajo, Y/N, it looks like you bought out the whole store! We could open up our own pet shop with all this stuff.” He grimaced and nudged a stuffed toy bird with his foot causing it to squeak.

“Well, we want our baby to have the best.”

“I guess,” he mumbled, picking up one of the several prescription bottles on the counter. “What’s all this?”

“His medication,” you replied nonchalantly, drying off Vegas and setting him down on the floor.

Nevada snorted a laugh. “Medication? You gotta be kidding me. You sure you didn’t hold up a pharmacy? Since when does a cat need pills.”

“Animals need medication too, Vada. Vegas just needs a little extra that’s all.” You shrugged and began organizing the orange bottles. “There’s his flea and tick medication, allergy medication, medication for his heart murmur and liver, medicine for a rash he may get as a reaction from the medication he has to take for his heart murmur. It’s all basic stuff really.”

“Coño, my 95 year old abuelita doesn’t need this much medication,” Nevada mused. He gently pulled you towards, wrapping his arms around your waist and planting a firm kiss on your lips. “Listen, mi amor. This whole cat thing,” he said, waving his hand in the air. “If you want a pet so badly then why don’t we just buy you a kitten or a puppy from a good breeder or maybe an easier animal like a beta fish or a sea monkey. You know, get you a pet that isn’t so sick. Maybe a cat that can actually see straight and has both ears intact,” he teased.

You frowned and vehemently shook your head, moving out of Nevada’s grasp to finish clearing away the pill bottles. “No. I’m not abandoning Vegas. He can’t help that he needs all this medicine. Just because someone is sick or their body doesn’t perform the way that it should, doesn’t mean you just throw them away like trash.” You continued your rant while furiously scouring the sink, your eyes glossy with tears. “Maybe Vegas knows that his body betrayed him but he’s dealing with it. He’s trying his best with what he has. He may have hopes and dreams but his body prevents him from achieving them. That doesn’t mean we give up on him.”

Nevada furrowed his eyebrows in concern at this sudden outburst. He placed his hand over yours and tilted his head to meet your gaze. “Hey, we won’t get another cat, I promise. I’m just worried about you. You’ve been acting weird. Is there something you want to tell me?” He gently ran his fingers through your hair, his eyes pleading for you to tell him what was wrong.

You almost confessed everything to him but you just couldn’t. You were afraid. Afraid of how he would react to the news that he almost could have been a father. Afraid of saying out loud that you wanted a family and that it may never happen. “I’m fine. Just tired,” you whispered, biting down on your bottom lip to keep from crying. “I’m going to go take a nap.” You walked past him and went to your bedroom.

Nevada stood in place, listening to the door shut. He wanted to follow you and demand to know what was wrong, but he couldn’t move. Nevada was never one for emotions and he felt ill-equipped to handle this situation. Typically it was the other way around, you were the one encouraging him to talk, breaking down those walls he had built up around his heart.

In need of something stronger than a beer, Nevada grabbed a glass and some scotch from the kitchen cupboard. He poured himself a drink and went to the living room, tossing aside some catnip toys before sitting down on the couch. Nevada downed the first glass, relishing in the sharp burn as the amber liquid went down his throat and poured himself another. Vegas jumped up on the table, staring at him with his crossed green eyes.

Nevada glared at the feline. “The fuck you looking at.”

Vegas narrowed his eyes and brought up his paw, ready to swipe the expensive bottle of scotch off the table. Before Nevada could say anything, the cat moved his paw and sent the bottle flying. Nevada glanced down at the broken bottle, the alcohol seeping into the expensive rug underneath the table. “Me cago en su madre,” he muttered, running a hand over his face.

The next few weeks tested Nevada’s patience. Apart from the lack of sleep and finding hairballs all over the house, Vegas had also decided to forgo the expensive scratching post you had bought and clawed up one of Nevada’s favorite leather jackets instead. It took all his strength not to stuff Vegas in a bag and toss him over the Washington Heights bridge. On top of the feline frenzy surrounding your household, you had distanced yourself more and more from Nevada, focusing all your attention on the cat. Anytime he tried to get close, you would take a step back, shutting him out completely. This was also the longest you had ever gone without sex, typically you both were like rabbits. Nevada was frustrated in more ways than one, quickly reaching his breaking point. It was only a matter of time before he exploded and the truth would eventually bubble up to the surface.

*****

“Babe, ven aca! Look what I can do!” You called out from your comfortable spot on the sofa. Nevada walked into the living room just as you were taking a plate of chocolate cake and balancing it on your swollen belly. “Ta-dah!” You smiled and threw your arms out.

“Coño que talent.” Nevada snorted a laugh before furrowing his eyebrows when he saw you take a huge bite of cake. “Hey, is that the last piece?”

You froze mid-bite, your cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk. “Maybe,” you managed to say with your mouth full.

“I knew I should’ve hid it,” he teased and shook his head.

You swallowed and swiped some frosting on your index finger, beckoning Nevada to come closer. “Awww, you wanna taste, Papi?” You smirked, spreading your legs a bit.

Nevada moved the plate to the table and hovered over your frame, sucking the chocolate frosting off your digit. “Mmmm.” Licking his lips, he leaned forward, placing wet wanton kisses up the gentle slope of your neck. “Have I told you how sexy you look pregnant,” he purred in your ear.

“Everyday for the past 7 months.”

“Cause it’s true. I can’t get enough of you.” Nevada continued to kiss down your body, playfully biting down on your nipple through your thin t-shirt.

You softly moaned, losing yourself in the moment when you felt your baby girl stretch in your womb. “She’s kicking.”

Nevada smiled and pushed up your shirt, placing his hands on your bump. “Oye, this is your Papi speaking. Can you hear me?” He stared at your stomach in amazement, watching it move as she kicked against his palms.

“Houston, we have contact.” You giggled and ran your fingers through his hair.

Nevada dropped a tender kiss on your belly, softly caressing his child’s home. “I can’t wait to meet you, mi princesa. Papi loves you so much.” You smiled and closed your eyes, listening to him talk to the life that was growing inside you.

You opened your eyes and sat up. It was early, light only just beginning to peek through the windows of your darkened bedroom. You glanced down at Nevada asleep next to you before placing a hand on your flat stomach. It wasn’t real. Just a figment of your imagination, a cruel joke your dreams had played on you. A soft sob escaped your lips. You had been so happy, floating on air only to come crashing back to Earth.

There was no way you would ever be able to fall asleep now. You got out of bed and changed into a pair of leggings and one of Nevada’s t-shirts, deciding that a run might help clear your mind. You stepped outside into the cool morning, stretching your arms above your head before beginning an easy pace. Each slap of your foot against the pavement brought you some sense of clarity, some form of escape. You ran harder and faster until all you could comprehend was the sweat beading off your face and the burn in your lungs.

*****

Nevada was in a deep sleep, a rarity as of late, when he felt a pair of sharp claws pawing at his head and a black tail swishing in his face. “Get off,” he muttered, swiping the cat away with his eyes still closed. He rolled over and reached out for you, only to find rumpled sheets. Figuring that you were in the kitchen making breakfast, he tried to fall back asleep but Vegas had other plans. The cat pounced on top of him and began batting at his chest. “Y/N! Come get this fuckin’ cat,” he groaned, getting up with Vegas in his arms, placing him on the floor.

Just as Nevada had fallen back asleep, he heard the most pitiful meow coming from the bathroom. The meows became louder and more obnoxious. “Pipe the fuck down, asshole!” Nevada growled and covered his head with a pillow to drown out the sound but it was no use. He got up again, ripping the covers off and stomping over to the bathroom to find Vegas with his head stuck in the cupboard under the sink. The cat wiggled its body, trying to escape as it cried for help.

“Stupid cat. How the fuck did you do this,” Nevada grumbled and crouched down to open the cupboard. “Y/N! Get your–” Nevada began to shout, pulling the cat out of the cupboard when he saw something that silenced him immediately. There in Vegas’ mouth was a pregnancy test. The cat dropped the test stick in his hand and scampered off. It was still in its wrapper. Upon looking deeper into the cupboard, he found a whole box of tests that you had hidden. Nevada fell back on the floor, completely stunned. All of a sudden your odd behavior these past few weeks began to make sense.

@glimmerglittergirl @southern-magnolia @sweetcannolicarisi @delia26 @obfuscateyummy @sass-and-suspenders @eclecticminded @thatesqcrush @katmstanton @amirightcounsellor @beltzboys2015-blog @letty-o @sonnysdoll @lyssa1385 @sweetsummertime99 @burningsorr0ws @gibbs274 @izzythefanfreak @riodallas @babypink224221 @livxrafa @esparza-army @obsessionprofessional @ottosuricato @melsquared79

#Nevada ramirez #nevada ramirez imagine #nevada ramirez x reader #nevada ramirez fic #trouble in the heights #raúl esparza

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jobros-pleaseinteract · 6 years ago

Text

Footprints

Birthday present for @bucky-babe who wanted some Ironhusbands so here we have a college AU (and a surprise AU very fun) also latinx Tony Stark. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Bucky!

Tagging @myspideysensesrtingling @starksnack @sbidermanstan @cptdcnvers @sleepyoldchild @spideysstark @bamboozledfucker @irndad @thors-bleached-eyebrows

warnings: some hints to Howard Stark’s A+ parenting

College. A terrifying time in any young person’s life, but even more terrifying if that young person looked like they were fifteen years old. Tony Stark, genius son of Howard Stark, at seventeen years of age is beginning his academic career at university, and the poor boy is fucking terrified. His father is too busy at some business meeting to help his only child move in, but his mamá is there with him, along with Jarvis to help him carry all his boxes in. Tony can feel his arms start to shake, and he can try to kid himself it’s from the weight of the box he holds in his arms, but deep down he knows it’s because he is about to shit his pants from fear. Sure, he’d gone to boarding school before, but this is different. Here, he is the youngest, a baby, and no one is gonna want to befriend a baby.

A gentle hand passes over his head, caressing his head of curls. “Mi vida,” his mamá whispers to him as they wait for Jarvis to shut the trunk. “Mi amor, calm down. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Tony lets out a cough, trying to calm his racing heart. Yeah, nothing to be afraid of, except, you know, bullies and shit. He’s seen movies. He knows what college frat bros are capable of. He just wants to be challenged… and also maybe he wants to get away from his bastard of a father, but that’s besides the point.

“You are going to do great things here, mi amor. I can feel it.”

He can feel a smile tug at his lips. “Gracias, mamá.”

It flows off his tongue like a river, his mamá’s native language that Howard refuses to allow under his roof. Maria wraps an arm around her son and runs her fingers through his thick brunette curls. She’s going to miss him as she always does when Howard sends her boy away. She’s left with an empty house all to herself; her husband is almost never home, not that she minds, but she misses when she could still hear her Tony’s laughter fill the cold halls.

“You’ll call me,” she says more than asks. He always calls his mamá.

“Claro. Who else are you going to complain to about the women in your book club?”

“Ay, why your father insisted I join those ridiculous women is beyond me.” Maria rolls her eyes. “The books they choose are boring, and all they talk about are their yachts or houses in the Hamptons.”

“You don’t want to talk about that?”

A laugh escapes her. Howard may paint her as some sort of Spanish nobility for the press, but that wasn’t her. She was Mexican born, Los Angeles raised, and she wasn’t used to the life Howard led when they first married. She still wasn’t used to all the bragging and pettiness that came with being married to a Stark. The only good thing to come from her marriage is her son. And her friendship with the Jarvis couple.

“Vamos,” she calls when the three of them manage to grab everything, “we have a dorm to see.”

Tony, he isn’t so sure what to expect from a college dorm, but whatever it had been, it definitely does not match up with what he sees when he opens the door. Whoever his roommate is, well… he’s a total slob. Tony can feel the crease form between his eyebrows as he takes in the set of footprints on their carpet. What asshole tracks dirty footprints on a new carpet?

“Oh, hi!” a warm voice greets from inside. “You must be James’s roommate!”

He’s being swept up in a tight hug. It’s warm, maybe even warmer than the hugs his mamá gives. He’s released, and he sees who had embraced him. She’s beautiful, that’s for sure, and her face is so kind, all laugh lines and dimples. She’s big, bigger than tiny Tony, and he loves it. She’s like some sort of goddess, completely different from mamá, and yet exactly the same. The love they carry in their souls just radiates from them.

“James!” the goddess yells into the bathroom. “James Rhodes, you get out here and meet your roommate!”

“Okay, Ma, there’s no need to yell. I’m only five feet away, you know.”

And there he is. An angel right before his eyes. Tall, dark, handsome--no, gorgeous. Wow, I am so gay, goes through Tony’s mind before he realizes, this is my roommate. You don’t hook up with your roommate, even if he is the most beautiful being Tony has ever seen in his entire fucking life.

“Hi,” Tony squeaks, his voice cracking in a way that just makes him want to crawl in a hole and live out the rest of his days like some hermit, “I’m Tony.”

“James,” the angel--his roommate--says, and his warm ass hand fucking engulfs Tony’s tiny one, and Tony wants to melt into the carpet right there. “It’s nice to meet you, Tony.”

The goddess, who Tony’s infers is James’s mother, holds out her hand to Maria and gives her a warm smile. “Roberta Rhodes.”

“Maria, pleasure to meet you.”

“This your husband?”

“Oh, no,” Jarvis scrambles to put down his boxes and shake Mrs. Rhodes’s hand. “Edwin Jarvis, I’m a, uh, family friend. Here to help him move in.”

“Your husband working? That’s understandable, Terrence is back home looking after our daughter while I get to help James get settled in.” Mrs. Rhodes lowers her voice and stage-whispers, “He was nervous to meet his roommate.”

“Ma!”

“But I don’t think there’s any need to be nervous. You seem like a good boy, Tony.”

“I, uh… I am?” He looks to his mamá for some guidance.

“James has nothing to worry about with Tony other than late nights and some skipped meals. Recuerde comer, mi vida,” Maria tells her son. “Hopefully they can look after each other while they’re here.”

They start unpacking, and Tony can’t get over the fact that his super hot roommate is the kind of guy to 1) wear shoes inside and 2) wear dirty shoes inside. Their carpet is absolutely covered in footprints, and while Tony isn’t a neat freak, it does kinda piss him off. But he can’t just call him out in front of everyone, can he? He’s actually a bit surprised Jarvis hasn’t said anything about it. But whatever, right? It’s the first day, and they’ve got a lot of stuff to move in, so it makes sense James would keep his shoes on, and Tony can always clean it up later… hopefully.

Although Tony hates to admit it, he cries when mamá and Jarvis has to go. He’s a baby, practically, and he’s being left on his own to take care of himself. He can’t do that! He has problems with sleeping and eating and just, well, taking general care of himself!

“You are going to be just fine,” Maria tells him as she cradles his baby face in her hands. “You are so talented, Tony, and I am so proud of you. So proud.”

Tony sniffles and looks up at her with glossy brown eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Of course, mi amor, I will always be proud of you.” She presses a kiss to his forehead and closes her eyes. “Te quiero, Tony.”

“Te quiero, mamá.”

Jarvis ruffles his hair and promises to write before he and Maria get in the car and drive off. Leaving him alone on the curb, fighting tears. He’ll be fine. Stark men don’t cry.

Tony and James fall into an easy sort of friendship, and Tony starts to feel more comfortable at school. Rhodey, what James has lovingly been renamed, still tracks in those goddamn footprints, but Tony can’t bring himself to call him out on it. Whenever he feels frustration creep up inside of him, he remembers what always happens when he tries to make his father listen to him, and suddenly he’s unable to say anything to Rhodey about his messy habits. So he keeps his mouth shut and his head down whenever he wants to say something. He can handle this.

His friends think he’s a fucking idiot for not just bringing it up. Well, they think he’s an idiot for a lot of other reasons, but they especially get onto him for this. Somehow, around a week into the semester, he managed to collect three mom friends: Carol, Pepper, and Natasha. He and Carol share a class together, but that’s not how she adopted him. No, it was outside of class, on the quad, when she and the other two girls were studying and talking shit, when suddenly this small boy was tripping over his shoelaces and his books were flying everywhere. They saw tiny Tony and adopted him on the spot, and now they made sure he actually ate, got more than two hours of sleep a week, and communicated with his freakishly hot roommate.

“Tones, if the guy keeps tracking in dirt, fucking tell him,” Natasha sighs as they’re lounging on Tony’s bed one Friday night. “It’s obviously bothering you enough keep bitching to us about it.”

“But what if he gets mad at me?”

“He’s the one being slob,” Pepper points out.

“If he gives you a hard time about it,” Carol says, “we’ll kick his ass. Now hold still.”

Carol had bought some new nail polish and wanted to try it out on Tony, claiming the red and gold would go perfect with his dark skin. It’ll totally pop, Tones, just trust me, she had said when she’d pulled out the bottles. So now he’s lounging between Natasha’s legs, her fingers lightly scratching against his scalp while Carol paints his nails and Pepper flips through a magazine.

“Where is your Adonis anyways?” Pepper asks. “He got plans?”

“I think he said he had a Smash Bros tournament with uh… Sam? You guys know Sam Wilson?”

“Yeah, he’s friends with Steve Rogers and that other guy with the man bun,” Carol answers. “Wait, Nat, didn’t you hook up with man bun?”

“Like, once. Okay, so it was twice, but what can I say? He’s got nice arms.”

“Thirsty.”

“Shut up, Pepper, so are you.”

“Wh-- no I am not, I am completely, 100% focused on classes, thank you very much! You have absolutely nothing on--”

The door swing open, and Rhodey walks in looking a bit winded. He waves to the girls and Tony before disappearing into the bathroom.

“...If he left a Smash Bros tournament, he isn’t worth it, Tones,” Carol tells him. “A quitter never makes an attractive partner, let me just tell you that right now.

“Hey!” Rhodey comes back in and smiles. “Sorry for interrupting your party, but I remembered Sam let me borrow one of his hoodies last week, and if I don’t return it tonight, he’s never gonna let me live it down.”

“Oh, was it the one hanging in the shower?” Tony realizes.

“That’s the one! I got salsa on it and had to scrub it out.” He grins at Tony, and the younger boy swears his heart skipped like five beats. “Anyways, I’ll be back in a few hours. Want me to bring you back some pizza, Tones?”

“That would be amazing, platypus, thank you!”

“Anything for my tiny Tony.”

The girls wait until he’s gone before turning back to their friend with wide eyes. He just looks back at them innocently.

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’?” Pepper says. “You just called him platypus, and he just called you his tiny Tony!”

“Yeah, we have nicknames for each other, so what?”

“Tony, it was the way he said it,” Natasha sighs. “We already know you’re in love with him--”

“I am not!”

“But, Tony, he sounded pretty fond of you.”

“People can be fond platonically! You are fond of me! And for your information, I am not in love with him.” He stands up, ignoring the annoyed shout Carol gives him when the nail polish gets smudged, and puts his hands on his hips. “I am not in love with someone who is completely incapable of taking off his dirty ass shoes before walking on the carpet! I mean, just look at how messy it is!”

The girls look down at the floor and are quiet for a few moments. Tony waits as they continue to stare at the floor and them give him a worried look.

“What?” he asks.

“Tony… there are no footprints on the carpet,” Pepper tells him.

“What the hell are you talking about? Are you blind?” He gestures to the carpet where he can clearly see a trail of footprints leading to and from the bathroom. “They’re right here!”

“Oh my god, you cannot be this stupid,” Carol laughs. “Are you being serious right now?”

“Yes!”

“Tones, if we can’t see the footprints you can clearly see,” Natasha says, “then have you considered he’s your--”

“If you’re gonna say soulmate, I’m just going to stop you right there,” Tony interrupts her. “There is no way someone like me could ever have a soulmate, let alone one like Rhodey.”

“And why do you say that?”

“Because… well… because I’m me. Tony Stark, the absolute fuck up! I mean, my own father can’t even stand to be in the same room as me for more than five minutes without telling me what a terrible son I am! Why should I be soulmates with someone as wonderful as James Rhodes?”

“There’s a lot to unpack here, but--”

“ANTHONY EDWARD STARK, YOU GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS THIS INSTANT! HE IS YOUR SOULMATE OKAY?” Pepper suddenly yells, causing the others to stare at her with wide eyes. “You can see his footprints, we can. There is literally no other explanation for this!”

“Pepper,” Carol hisses. She can’t just yell at Tony and expect everything to--

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, wow, did not actually expect that to work.”

“Well… you guys are like my moms, so. I listen to you.”

“He listens to you, well that’s just great,” Carol grumbles. “He doesn’t listen to me.”

“That’s because you’re just as reckless and stupid as him, Danvers,” Pepper says back. “Now, Tony, I want you to actually talk to James about this, okay? You know now that he isn’t just some asshole who likes to track dirt into the dorm; he’s your soulmate.”

“But I mean, do we really--”

“Don’t make me pull the full name card again, Tony, because you know I will.”

“...Fine. I will talk to him about this. Now, Carol, can you please fix my nails? I think I fucked them up.

Rhodey sneaks back into the dorm after midnight, trying hard to be quiet in case Tony went to bed. Of course, the little insomniac did not go to bed, and is instead sitting at his desk waiting for his roommate/soulmate. When he hears the door click shut, he turns on his desk lamp and swivels his chair, causing Rhodey to let out a shriek.

“Oh, fuck! It’s just you, Tones. You scared the shit out of me, man.” He can see Tony chewing the inside of his cheek as if trying to find the right words to say. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong, or at least I don’t think so, I just, uh. Fuck. Okay so basically… I think you’re really hot, and I have since we first met, and, like, that’s really weird because we’re roommates and I most definitely should not be thinking that, and then I noticed you kept tracking fucking dirt onto our carpet, but I didn’t want to say anything in case you got mad, because I don’t like it when people yell at me, probably because of like childhood trauma or some shit, I dunno, but then today Carol, Pepper, and Nat realized that you weren’t tracking dirt into the dorm, I just saw your footprints, which, you know, means we’re soulmates.”

“Wait… what?”

Oh, god, Rhodey didn’t know. “Oh, well, we’re--well I think we’re soulmates. Because I can see your footprints when no one else can.”

“Yeah, no I knew that.”

“You knew?”

“Uh, it’s pretty obvious when I can see your footprints, Tony, even when you’re not wearing shoes.”

“Well… why didn’t you say anything?” Tony could feel his chest start to get tight and his breathing pick up. “Oh, god, you don’t want me, do you? That’s why you didn’t say anything! Because, because you know I’d be a terrible soulmate, and you don’t want that, and you deserve someone way better, someone like Sam Wilson, because he’s so cool, oh god, who wouldn’t want to be soulmates with Sam Wilson, he’s like--”

Tony stops talking when Rhodey cradles his face in his warm ass hands, his entire brain going blank.

“Whoa, there, calm down, okay? I didn’t say anything because I thought you knew, Tony.” Rhodey lets out a laugh and shakes his head. “Hell, I thought we’ve been dating for like a month now!”

“...what.”

“Yeah, you started calling me Rhodey and platypus and honeybear, and we’ve been cuddling and holding hands, so I thought you knew! Oh, god, this is so embarrassing! I totally thought we’ve been dating!”

“Well, I… I mean, we could, uh, well, if you wanted to, I wouldn’t object to us, like, actually dating. As in we both know we’re dating.”

“Oh you wouldn’t, would you?” Rhodey asks with a smile. “Well, would you object if I were to kiss you right now?”

Oh my god, he wants to kiss me!

“I mean, if you really wanted to.”

“Oh, shut up, Tones.”

“Why don’t you make m--”

Rhodey leans down to kiss him before Tony can finish his snarky comment, and Tony does not mind one bit. Because Tony has never felt anything as fucking perfect as kissing Rhodey. His whole body grows warm as Rhodey wraps his arms around him, and Tony practically melts against him when he feels Rhodey’s fingers gently tug on his curls. He’s kissing his soulmate, and his soulmate is fucking James Rhodes, his platypus, his honeybear, his Rhodey.

#hope you like it!#i attempt to write #ironhusbands

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cloecfe · 3 years ago

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madminniefics · 7 years ago

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can’t pretend anymore

grace left mississippi for a reason. she just wants to be left alone. niall is spending the summer traveling through spain searching for the perfect wave and, instead, finds grace. liam has chosen this moment to pop back up in grace's life. she doesn't want any of it.

a surfer niall / expat grace / tech billionaire ex liam nsfw one shot

Grace spent her whole life running.

Running from her family, running from her dead-end job at the mall selling phone cases in a kiosk, running from her past and future lovers, running from the existential dread that seemed to follow her everywhere, running from the small town in Mississippi that reminded her of fried food, heart attacks, and racism. But no matter how far she ran, there was no getting away from herself.

She’d run to Spain five years ago—to live in a big European city, eat fruit, drink wine, and be left the hell alone—and ended up in a small town outside Valencia where everyone knew everyone’s business. Ain’t that some shit? If she wanted everyone to be all in her shit, she would’ve stayed in Oxford, home of William Faulkner and little old ladies who went to church on Sunday’s and talked shit about their neighbors the rest of the week.

That’s why she left. Or, that’s what she told people. That she couldn’t handle the hypocrites. She couldn’t stand the way they smiled to your face as they plotted against you behind your back. That’s why she quit church in middle school. That and the frilly dresses her momma insisted on putting her in.

The waitress placed a carafe of orange juice and a bottle of champagne on Grace’s table. She was tucked away in the back corner of her favorite café. A window behind her seat overlooked the café’s tiny garden that consisted of two orange trees, three olive trees, and a rosemary bush. The owner, Mateo, reserved the table for her every Saturday. No matter if there was a line outside, that table was always saved for Grace. As a thank you for helping him find a new chef. Grace thought he may be harboring a crush on her, too. They were cool as long as he didn’t act on it.

“Gracias, Marta,” Grace said with a smile as the waitress opened the bottle of champagne for her.

“Claro. Vas a comer lo mismo o algo nuevo?”

Grace looked down at the menu. She always had the same thing for brunch, despite Mateo and Marta urging her to try something new. She loved the churros and chocolate at their little café. It was the best she’d had during her time in Spain.

“Um,” She looked at the menu and back up to Marta. “Dame el menu.”

Marta’s eyes brightened and she nodded and walked into the back to yell at Mateo and Andres, the chef, that ‘La Grace’ was finally trying something new. Grace didn’t even know what the chef special was for that day but she trusted Andres. As long as it was cooked, she would eat it.

Shit. Sometimes if it wasn’t cooked she would eat it. 14-year old Grace would pretend to gag and refuse to eat but 28-year old Grace knew that sometimes you gotta eat what’s in front of you. She tilted her head trying to think if that was deep or just sounded deep. It could be a metaphor for life. Like sometimes you just gotta do things you don’t want to do. She scrunched her nose and poured less than half a glass of orange juice before topping it off with champagne.

After concluding that, no, it wasn’t deep, she took a gulp of her drink before opening her book. It was a collection of poetry, in Spanish, by a local artist. Most of the poems were about love, which Grace couldn’t—or, more accurately, didn’t want to—relate to, but they were beautiful pieces. She continued to read until her food came out. By then she’d already run through two mimosas.

Marta brought three plates and Mateo brought out three more plates. Grace’s mouth watered as the first plate of olives, jamon iberico, bread, and a cheese selection was placed in front of her. Fried quail eggs and sliced beef, ham and cheese croquettes, patatas bravas with their special mayo sauce, asparagus wrapped in prosciutto, and clams in a cream sauce were placed on the table as well.

As she ate, she thought about the poems. They were beautiful, she couldn’t deny that. Comparing love to the soft mist after the crest of a wave, to the way the night and the day melted together during a sunset, the purple of clouds in the early morning, the quiet moment before the work day starts, comparing the woman’s white skin to ancient statues carved from marble. And that was her problem, wasn’t it? She’d been raised to believe that women like her—an ‘angry’ black woman from the south whose family barely made it above the poverty line—didn’t find happy endings. In love or in life.

She couldn’t count on two hands the amount of times someone alluded to—or straight up told her, because racists have no shame—her having no future, being a receptacle for children, that she was going to be on welfare her entire life before dying of high blood pressure, high cholesterol, or diabetes. Or a combination of all three. Grace sighed and sliced off a piece of jamon iberico before pairing it with a piece of cheese and placing it atop the garlic bread like a Spanish bruschetta. Fuck them. Because look at her now.

She washed down the anger with a sip of her fourth mimosa. The poems reminded her of why she really left Oxford. Why she quit the United States and North America in general. Her first love. Her only love.

Liam.

Just thinking his name made her choke on her jamon iberico.

***

Once all of the plates were empty—yes, Grace single handedly demolished six plates of food but, to be honest, they were tapas and she was still hungry—and a few euros placed on the table, Grace grabbed her book and walked outside. It was just before noon. She looked to the right, looked to the left, and decided to go that way towards her tiny apartment above a bakery. It always smelled like sugar and chocolate and, in the afternoons, she could hear two older men arguing over their usual coffee and magdalenas.

The thought of the sweet, sugar topped Spanish muffin made Grace hum. It was a nice day and her article about fun things to do with your children in Valencia was done and turned in. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a whole day off.

She switched out of her favorite grey sundress and put a bright blue bandeau and matching swim bottoms on. For the sake of modesty, since her cheeks were coming out of her bottoms—it was either that or her ass crack and, honestly, that was not a good look—she tugged on a pair of short shorts and a thin, almost see through, white tank top. She left the button open on her shorts for the aesthetic before bounding out of her apartment, with her towel, mystery novel, and water bottle in her tote bag, to take the train into the city.

But not before stopping at the bakery to buy a bag of muffins.

***

Grace set up shop a few feet away from a giant sand castle. The beach was crowded—as it usually was during the weekends in the summer—but she managed to find a relatively empty area. There were a few children splashing near the water’s edge, some teenagers playing beach volleyball, and more than a few people sleeping. She set out to rub sunscreen all over—because she wasn’t playing that skin cancer shit—when something caught her eye.

Someone, really.

A blond-haired man and a long-haired brunette with matching blue surfboards. Suddenly, the blond turned his head and seemed to look right at Grace just seconds before he face planted in the sand. Like. Literally fell face first in the sand like he was a mermaid learning how to use his legs for the first time. Her eyes widened and she bit her lips to keep from laughing. Don’t laugh at the tourists, Grace. If they get embarrassed they won’t come back and you will be out of a job.

Grace watched the blond get up with the help of his friend. She watched him wipe his face with the soaked tee shirt he held in his hand. Kind of redundant to wipe your sand-covered face with something that probably had sand on it as well but. Grace figured he knew better than she did.

“Hi,”

Somehow, she missed the blond walking up to her. Probably because of the dark brown hair on his chest that Grace had been eyeing. It led down to a matching patch of hair that disappeared into his swim trunks. So many thoughts ran through her head re: that hair, what it led to, and what she’d like to do to him when she remembered that he spoke.

She raised an eyebrow up at the blond. “Qué?”

Oh, don’t do it to him, Grace. All he said was hi.

But hi led to ‘how are you’ and that led to ‘you’re beautiful’ which led to ‘can I have your number/email/facebook/twitter/linkedin/what’s app’ and that, ultimately, led to the dreaded ‘can I take you out sometime?’ Not that she was opposed to a nice night of wine and dancing. But it was the conversation she could do without. She didn’t even talk to Marta or Mateo like that and she saw them almost every day.

That was the whole point of moving away. Nobody knew her here despite how hard they tried. Grace liked it best that way. It kept her heart intact, her expectations reasonable, and her standards high. No more getting hurt. It was safer, for Grace, and it gave her something to hold onto.

“Oh, perdon, me llamo Niall,” He cleared his throat when his friend looked at him sideways. “Es que te vi esta manana y te queria decir algo pero no sabia que.”

Grace’s eyes widened so much she thought they were just going to roll out of her head. The odds of this man speaking perfect Spanish—accent and all—were slim to none. That was her go-to trick when tourists hit on her. But he was cute and the fact that he admitted to wanting to talk to her but not knowing what to say…fuck if that didn’t hit Grace in her cold, dead heart.

She smirked. “My name’s Grace.”

She hoped that wouldn’t come back to haunt her.

***

She ended up giving Niall her phone number that day at the beach, under strict promise that he wouldn’t try anything with her. After two weeks, he’d progressed from sending funny pictures to sending silly selfies. Grace was alright with that. She was even okay with him asking questions.

As long as he didn’t try to get deep. She was content to stay on that ‘what is your favorite color?’ level with him indefinitely.

Grace sat in her window, finishing an article about a festival in nearby city Alicante, wondering what she should do with her afternoon. There was always the beach, but she’d gone so much the past few weeks that she was tired of washing sand out of all her cracks. She gave her running shoes a sad glance. There was a 10k in a few months that she should be training for but the farmers market sounded like more fun than running in the dusty trails behind the small town. Her empty pantry would agree with her.

Hitting send on her article, she hopped up with more energy than she should have considering she’d stayed up all night to make deadline. That’s what happens when you put too much on your plate. In work and in food.

And, when you’re delirious from lack of sleep and food, you grab your phone and text a stranger to meet you at a farmer’s market. At least, that was Grace’s excuse.

She didn’t know what Niall’s excuse was when he agreed.

***

The first thing Grace noticed at the farmer’s market was the disproportionate amount of people holding hands. It was like all the fucking couples from Riba Roja del Turia came out that day to get their fresh tomatoes, greens, oranges, and churros. It felt like Grace and Niall were the only people not holding hands.

They weren’t gonna, either, so don’t get any ideas.

He cleared his throat and looked down at Grace. She could see him looking at her from the corner of her eye. Barely resisting a giggle, she looked at him with a playful brow raised. She wasn’t flirting. She was just sleep deprived.

(Keep telling yourself that, Grace.)

“What?” She said, smirk on her lips.

He shook his head and looked forward. “You told me, and I quote, ‘no compliments or anything that could be misconstrued as a crush’ so I’m just gonna stay quiet over here.”

She covered her face with her hands and laughed. Grace had grown to love her laugh despite being told her entire life to ‘tone it down,’ ‘be quiet,’ and ‘do you have to laugh so loud?’ She loved that her laugh turned heads. There was some funny shit happening over here and all y’all were missing out with your boring asses.

“Wow what kind of asshole says that to someone,” She said through her laughter.

When she looked up at Niall he was just grinning down at her and shaking his head. From what she’d learned about him over the past week, he was the chillest surfer dude ever. He was spending the summer in Spain with his cousin, Harry. They were originally from Canada. His favorite color was blue and he was always hungry. His words, not Grace’s.

He seemed to be the perfect buddy. He listened to her rules, didn’t try to skirt around them, and he would be gone in a few months. She would never see him again. Biting the inside of her lip, the cogs in Grace’s mind started working.

“Ignore what I said. If you have something to say, say it.” She looked over at him and tried her hardest not to lick her lips. Because he looked good but she wasn’t trying to start anything deep. A friendship, perhaps. She was mulling the pros and cons.

Pros: eye candy, someone to talk to, maybe he’d teach her how to surf

Cons:

She was drawing a blank on cons which made her feel like she was forgetting something. There were truly no downsides to being his friend, really, Grace? Really? Okay. Don’t come crying in a few months when you get your heart broke because that’s what you’re setting yourself up for.

Grace was fixing to argue with herself when Niall turned to her. He blinked and as he smirked his face transformed. Grace felt that smirk in between her thighs. Lord. She would let him do dirty things to her.

Um. Ma’am.

Get some sleep and maybe drink some water with your thirsty ass.

“Alright. I like your shorts,” He said. The gravel in his voice reverberated throughout Grace’s chest. She almost didn’t notice the little tug he gave to her hemline. Just inches from her thigh. If her shorts had been any tighter he would have grazed her skin and she was sure—as sure as the sky is blue, dirt is brown, and ice cream is delicious—that she would have jumped out of her clothes. Right there in the middle of town. “They look cute on you.”

Grace looked at Niall and then looked away as she shook her head. What do you even say to that? Grace could argue with the best of them. She could debate anything, she had been on an award-winning debate team in high school, but she failed at flirting. Like. Capital ‘F’ failure. Because her first instinct was to tell him his shorts looked cute on him, too.

And her second instinct—which is what she ended up going with—was pointing at the churros stand, looking up at him, and asking if he’d share a bag with her.

***

Grace didn’t see Niall for a few weeks after that. She wished she could say it was because she needed some space but, really, it was because he and Harry had taken a road trip to chase some waves. He’d sent her a few pictures of Harry wiping out—a technical surfing term that Niall taught her—and more than a few shirtless selfies.

There was something there. They were trying to ignore it—Grace, especially, because she didn’t need the drama—but she couldn’t ignore the reason why she smiled when Niall texted her or why she gripped her phone up so fast when she got a new message or why she had her ringer on at all when her phone used to be always on silent.

She rubbed a hand over her face and stood up from the small table in her tiny, one room apartment. Not that she couldn’t afford anything bigger. She’d fallen in love with the apartment when she visited. It was the last one her realtor showed her and it overlooked the eastern side of town. She had a view of the orange groves on the outskirts of town.

Grace wasted away her Friday by getting her nails done, taking a bath, washing her hair, and shaving her legs. That was her entire day. She was starting to feel cooped up in her apartment and found that she was just walking back and forth in her living room. Stopping in front of the tv, she decided she needed to go out.

Two hours later she was sitting at the bar at an oceanfront club at the marina in Valencia. Her go-to place was dead. There were a handful of people on the dance floor—not nearly enough for her to be comfortable dancing—but the drinks were good so she stayed.

She sipped her vodka cranberry and watched as the tourists on the dancefloor made a fool of themselves. After a certain amount of drinks anybody would get out and dance even if they knew damn well they had no rhythm. She took a gulp of her drink and looked at the entrance. She was going to leave as soon as she finished her drink.

That’s when she saw him.

Liam. In the flesh, right there, just a few feet away from her in his now-signature black suit and tie. She thought he looked ridiculous. It was almost one hundred degrees. Who wore a suit to a club outside of, like, Hollywood-types?

Grace turned her body so that her back was towards him. When she told Liam that she never wanted to see him again, she thought she’d made it clear that Spain was hers. He was a gazillionaire. He could afford to leave her the fuck alone.

Apparently not. Because just as she finished her drink there was a tap at her shoulder. She knew he would be there before she turned around. Taking a deep breath, she summoned her most bored expression before turning towards Liam.

“I couldn’t help but notice how familiar you look,” He said, speaking close to her ear because of the noise level.

She almost scoffed. Is that the game he wanted to play? Pretending not to recognize the girlfriend he left behind after college? The so-called ‘love of his life’? His ‘angel with no wings’? The girl that had wasted six years of her life on him? Really?

Okay.

“Sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She said, turning in her seat to face the bartender so her back was to Liam, once again.

And it was a nice back. She made sure of that with her work out regiment of running every other morning and lifting weights on the days she doesn’t run. Plus, she’d worn her favorite backless satin black dress. Grace knew she was looking good. He could eat a dick for all she cared.

Six fucking years and he thought he could talk to her any old way. Ha. He must have forgotten what she was like after all the models he’d ran through.

Grace quickly paid her tab and grabbed her clutch. She was halfway to the door when she realized Liam was following her. Rolling her eyes and sucking her teeth, she turned with her arms crossed.

“What?”

He stood there, staring, for a long moment. The area near the front door was fully lit and she wondered if he had realized his mistake.

“You remind me of someone I never thought I’d see again,” He whispered.

His words made her flinch.

“Yeah, well,” She shrugged and suddenly felt less in control of the situation. “Here’s hoping you’ll never have to see me again.”

With that, she turned and walked out the club. Her angry steps made her heels clack loudly in the night. Someone honked the horn and cat called her in Spanish and she flipped them off. She did not have the patience for that shit on that night.

“Grace, wait!”

Liam. When would he get the hint? How many times did she have to tell him that she was done with his bullshit? Done. She’d left a whole continent just so she wouldn’t have to see him again. And there he was, looking as gorgeous as ever, making Grace rethink all of her promises to herself.

Sighing, she raised an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Sorry, I just,” He ran a hand through his hair. Grace couldn’t help but notice he needed a haircut. “You look so different.”

“Five years will do that to you.”

He nodded and looked away, putting his hands in his pockets like he was wearing jeans and not a suit that probably cost more than Grace’s yearly rent.

“Can we just talk?”

She knew she would regret it later—and, honestly, she wasn’t sure what possessed her to agree—but the grin that took over Liam’s face when she agreed made her heart flutter. It had been five years. Surely, they could act like adults. They could at least have a conversation.

He placed her hand in the crook of his elbow as they started walking farther down the marina. As they walked up to one of Grace’s favorite gastropub’s it hit her that he’d been there before. There was no way he would know about that place tucked away at the end of the marina unless he’d been there before. In the same city. Without her knowledge. She couldn’t believe that was the first time they’d run into each other.

As they made their way into the gastropub—which was, really, just a glorified patio with a few tables and chairs but mostly lounge chairs with tables beside them—Grace took a deep breath. Was she ready to do this? She tried to forget everything about Liam. The way he looked at her, his smile, his laugh, especially the way his fingers felt as they grazed her skin and the way he looked deep in her eyes as he pushed inside her.

Sex is the last thing she needed to be thinking about as they laid next to each other on a two-person lounger. There was like two inches separating them. She couldn’t keep her mind from going there, though. She reminded herself of how good sex with Liam had been. He had to have learned a few new tricks over the years. She tried to hide her quick glance at his lap with a sip of her watermelon daquiri.

“How’ve you been?” He said, pulling her eyes from their attempt to find the outline of his dick.

She let the question sit for a moment as she sorted through her emotions. Her instinct was to be petty. She thought she had let go of the anger long ago but just seeing his face brought back all those emotions. A lump lodged itself in her throat. Hell no. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of making her cry. Again. No sir.

After clearing her throat, she made herself smile. “I’ve been great. Doing some freelancing right now. Momma tells me your little app is doing well.”

If you thought Grace wasn’t going to be petty you don’t know her very well.

“Yeah,” He laughed and took a sip of his beer. “It’s doing alright.”

“That’s great.”

She nodded. That was the extent of what she had to say to him. There was nothing else left. She had nothing to give this man that had stolen her light. He’d changed her whole personality. As other girls were finding themselves, Grace was losing herself. She’d only just found herself. Something that all the advice columns and baby boomers insisted happened during college.

“I didn’t come here to small talk,”

Grace blinked lazily. “What did you come here for, then?”

She bit her tongue to keep from saying what she really wanted to say. She didn’t have anything else to say to him. She wished he could get that through his head and leave her alone.

“I wanted to talk about us.”

I. I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I. Shut. Up. Grace didn’t want to hear any more sentences that started with ‘I.’ Whatever came after was usually only about what the speaker wanted or needed. Be careful with people who only speak in ‘I’s. They’re only there to smile at you while they break your heart over and over.

Listen to Auntie Grace. Her heart had only been broken once but that was more than enough. She knew what the fuck she was talking about.

“So, talk.” She said. As if she was going to make this easy on him.

He sat up and cleared his throat. Like he was about to make some big speech or something.

“I miss you.”

No, this motherfucker did not.

Did he just.

Seriously.

Grace managed to keep a straight face even as her thoughts bounced all over the place. Of all the things he could have said that’s what she was least prepared for. She fully expected him to ask for an apology—or even for his money back—for the tires she’d slashed, the windows she’d broken, the tv she’d smashed. Not that any of those damages compared to her heart circa 2017.

But she’d survived, she reminded herself. She survived and thrived and so did he. That much was clear. Why he felt he needed to come and intrude in her life five years after the fact was a mystery. He could never leave well enough alone. That was one thing about Liam. He was nothing if not persistent. And damn if it didn’t piss Grace off.

She just wanted to be left alone.

“Grace?”

“Hm?”

“I said I missed you.”

Oh, sweetie. She heard you the first time.

“Okay.”

Ouch.

That ‘okay’ hit Liam like a rock. Grace could tell he didn’t know what to say back. He’d expected the shy, meek Grace that he’d molded and instead he got this Grace. The Grace that didn’t care who you were, she wasn’t going to let you fuck with her. She was done with letting people walk all over her. She found that once you freed yourself from people like that your life became so much better.

She was happy. Certainly, happier than she was when she had a filter between her brain and her mouth.

“You look beautiful,” He said, leaning forward to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear.

“Thanks.” She said, her hand going up to remove the piece of hair from behind her ear.

“Dammit Grace I just want to have a civil conversation,”

“So, have one. Nobody’s stopping you. But don’t be surprised if I don’t answer.”

“You’re so frustrating,” He sighed and shook his head. “What happened to you?”

She raised her eyebrows and blinked at him.

“What happened to me?” She placed a hand on her chest. “I grew up, Liam. What happened to you to think that you could just come out of nowhere and demand things of people?”

They sat on the lounger staring at each other for a long moment. Grace didn’t have anything else to say. She was sure Liam was trying to figure out how to counter what she’d just said. She would be amazed if he didn’t just leave. That’s what rich people did, right? When things get hard they threw money at their problems or they just ignored them.

“I’m sorry,” He said softly.

He said what now.

“Um, apology accepted,”

She set her drink down and looked out to the sea. It was dark though so she couldn’t really see anything except the white foam of the miniature waves crashing at the edge. There were people walking around but mostly they were hidden away inside the air-conditioned clubs or on the patios drinking.

Later, Grace would blame her next words on the alcohol. She would completely Jamie Foxx it. But at that moment, when she looked over at Liam, she wasn’t thinking about her anger. She wasn’t thinking about their past and the ways they hurt each other. She was thinking about that apology. About how sincere he sounded.

She stood from the lounger and held her hand out to Liam.

Somehow, he understood just what she needed.

***

Grace and Liam stumbled out of a taxi at the front of his hotel. She wanted some dick but she surely wasn’t inviting him to her apartment. She’d forgiven him but that didn’t mean she wanted his overall negative energy in her home.

But his hotel, that she could do. It was impersonal and she needed that to keep her heart at least an arm’s length away from Liam.

She let him lead her into the elevator and she let him press her into a corner with a hand on her ass. His lips sponged kisses up her neck. She hiked her leg around his hip as he sucked a spot beneath her ear that had her squealing.

The elevator dinged to let them know they were at his floor sooner than they both expected. With both her feet on the ground she was still a little shaky as she looked around. Of course, he was in the penthouse. Of course. She rolled her eyes behind his back as he walked out of the elevator.

Liam pressed the softest kiss on her lips. It reminded her of their first kiss on the playground in her neighborhood at three am on her seventeenth birthday. Soft, sweet, and just a little reckless.

“I hate you,” She whispered against his lips as he finally got his card key to work.

“I’m okay with that,” He said, voice muffled against her skin as he lifted her in his arms and walked into the hotel room, kicking the door shut behind him before dumping Grace on the massive ottoman in front of the couch.

She giggled as he licked up her neck. There was a part of her that was screaming at her to stop. Like. If she really wanted to cut all ties with Liam then why would she go home with him?

But the rest of her was telling that other part to shut up, mind its business, and get this dick.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” He whispered against her skin.

Why. Why did he have to say anything? She wasn’t here to talk. She was here for sex. Dassit.

“Shh,” She said, pressing a finger to his lips before replacing it with hers.

She wanted to make the rules. After years of following him, letting him make decisions, doing things because he wanted to…it was her turn.

Grace let Liam lick all on her body as her slinky dress slipped from her shoulders. He tossed it on the floor next to them and resumed licking down her torso, pressing a kiss to her clit through her thong, before all but ripping them from her body. He made Grace squirm on the ottoman as he alternated between kissing and licking down her legs and back up to her pussy.

He left her heels on. She was about to ask if he wanted her to take them off when she felt his tongue on her slit. All words—all breath, really—left her in that moment. Who cared about the heels, truly. All Grace cared about was the feeling of Liam’s breath on her sensitive skin and his tongue on her clit.

She ran her hands through his hair and pulled at the ends gently. He looked up and winked at her. Grace was done with this slow shit. His taking his time with her, lazily running his tongue around the area where she needed it the most. She wanted to come and she wanted to do it now. She growled and pressed on the back of his head. He got the point.

Within minutes Grace was coming undone. Her breath was ragged as she gasped and moaned through the feelings. Her back arched off the ottoman and her eyes rolled back as Liam undressed himself.

She turned and got on all fours before he could grab the condom from his wallet. Looking back at him as he put it on, she bit her lip against a grin. She wasn’t sure about missing Liam but she missed this, that’s for sure.

***

In the morning, Grace was wracked by debilitating doubt. She was wrapped up in Liam. His legs were intertwined with hers, his arm was around her bare waist, his face in her neck, his breath making goosebumps pop up on her skin. She could smell him all around her. It was the same cologne she’d gifted him for their first Christmas together.

And just like that, she was eighteen again.

Alone and afraid. Left behind. Images of pale skin, unfamiliar panties, and pink nail polish on some other girls’ toes flashed through her mind.

Grace pushed Liam’s limbs off her. If she didn’t get out of that bed in the next two seconds she was sure she would throw up on him. Did she really drink that much last night? She must have.

But, deep down, she knew that wasn’t it. She knew it was the memories that she’d repressed for so many years. Of Liam moaning as he pumped into a woman who was the complete opposite of Grace.

There was a noise coming from behind her but she refused to turn and see his face. This was her worst mistake. And she’d left home at 23 to move to a different country with barely a thousand dollars to her name. It was like she’d forgotten everything she told herself. All the promises, all the goals, all the time spent talking to her therapist about Liam. Everything down the drain. And for what? An orgasm and a half?

“Come back to bed, babe,” Liam said, his voice tinged with sleep.

She inhaled sharply. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” He sat up and placed a hand on her back. She shivered. “Stop playing, Grace, c’mon.”

She needed Liam to stop talking. She needed him to stop touching her. She needed to leave. Now.

Grace stood so fast that Liam fell forward onto the bed. She grabbed her clutch from the chair in the corner and her heels from the foot of the bed.

“Grace.” Liam yelled.

No he did not just yell at her.

That stopped her as she was walking out the bedroom bare ass naked. She gave him a dirty look. Who the fuck.

“Where are you going?” He said, his tone a little more respectful after seeing how angry Grace was.

“I’m going the fuck home where the fuck do you think I’m going,” She rolled her eyes and walked out the room muttering under her breath. “Talking about where I’m going like he’s my daddy or something he better get the whole fuck out of here what the fuck.”

She was dressed and out of his hotel room in two minutes flat. That must have been a record.

***

Days later, Grace was still thinking of her encounter with Liam.

She would walk around, muttering curses under her breath, wondering what it was about that man that made her fall every time. Did she have to write ‘This is Why You Shouldn’t Fuck Liam’ notecards or would she be good next time?

She hoped to God there wouldn’t be a next time.

As she laid on her couch in her underwear Grace thought about whether she should do something or continue to scroll through social media as she ignored the movie playing on her tv. Really, she should hit up her therapist because just talking to Liam brought forth many emotions but the fact that she fucked him, too, was really messing her up. She flopped onto her stomach and sighed.

The cushion underneath her buzzed. She reached down for her phone to see a text from Niall. He was back from his surfing trip and did she want to hang.

Did she want to hang? Ha. Yes. Yes, she did.

They agreed to meet at the beach. Niall was there—looking especially scrumptious in a pair of swim trunks and black sunglasses—when Grace arrived. She’d left her bikini at home, deciding to wear a blue off the shoulder top with a pair of white shorts instead.

Just being near the marina made Grace feel like crying.

Niall could sense it, or something, because he wrapped her in a hug as soon as she was close enough. She hid her face in his chest as he stroked her hair. He let her take as long as she needed and, when she pulled back, he let go immediately. It was nice.

“You okay?” He said, a sad smile on his face. Like he knew.

Grace shook her head and exhaled.

“No, I’m not okay,” Her voice cracked. She hated when that happened.

“Do you wanna talk, Gracie?”

She smiled weakly. He’d started that a few weeks before his trip. Gracie. Nobody else had ever given her a nickname. She loved it.

“My ex was in town,” Grace took a deep breath. Just two months ago she wouldn’t have been able to imagine talking to Niall about anything deeper than her Telepizza order and look at her now. About to tell ol’ boy everything. Because somewhere along the line—along the silly pictures, the trips to the farmers market, the late-night phone calls, the texts reminding her to sleep—their friendship had become deeper than just ‘what kind of pizza do you like.’

“Ah,” Niall winced because he knew about Liam. He was the main character of more than one of their late-night phone calls. “Do I need to kick his ass?”

Grace laughed, a loud laugh, one that was full of life. She looked at Niall and grinned while shaking her head. He snaked an arm around her shoulder and she leaned her head on his. Sometimes all you needed was a good friend to help you, to not give up on you, to know when you needed to talk about something and to know when you needed a laugh.

“No, seriously,” He said.

“We talked for a while, argued a bit, and then, uh,” She took a deep breath. “I went home with him. Big mistake.”

Grace looked out to the ocean and pursed her lips as she thought of how to translate her thoughts into speech.

“You know when you want something you’d eaten before, a little too much, and you think about it a lot and then, when you eat it, it’s not nearly as good as you remembered?”

Niall nodded. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“It was a lot like that.” She whispered.

He took his arm from around her shoulder. She stopped and looked up at him. He was looking down at her. It was probably the worst timing on Grace’s part but she couldn’t stop looking at his lips.

“Come on,” He whispered, grabbing Graces’ soft hand gently with his callused one.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “What are we doing?”

“Just go with it, Gracie,” He said, tugging at her hand before lacing his fingers with hers and taking off at a jog.

She laughed as they dodged tourists, children, dogs, and peoples’ belongings. He was getting her mind off Liam, she knew that, and she was glad for Niall. That she had him in her life. That she hadn’t pushed him away.

When they stopped—a few feet from her favorite ice cream shop, which was probably Niall’s plan from the beginning—they were winded and grinning. Niall’s face was red and when he turned to Grace she laughed.

“Is there something on my face?”

“You’re so red, poor baby,” She said through her laughter.

Niall pouted. “Sure, make fun of the white guy.”

That made a fresh bubble of laughter burst out of Grace. Her head tipped back and, when it came back, Niall was standing right in front of her. Closer than he was before. She blinked up at him as his face came closer to hers. She realized that he was going to kiss her seconds before his lips grazed hers, as if asking for permission. She leaned up on her toes to press her lips fully to his.

He opened his mouth against hers and she followed suit. Their tongues tangled as their battle took them back and forth from his mouth, to hers, and back. The kiss made her forget that she needed to breathe. She was gasping as she leaned back down on her feet.

Was the world spinning or was that just Grace?

Niall pressed one last kiss to Grace’s forehead before she took his hand and led him to the window of the ice cream shop. She wasn’t sure if this was anything. Wasn’t sure if she wanted it to be anything. All she knew was that Niall was safe. He was safe and happy and soft.

Sometimes you needed that.

#i can't believe how cute that banner turned out #i made that y'all #anyway let me know what you think about this!!#1dff #niall horan fanfiction #liam payne fanfiction #os: itc #there's some spanish in this but i think y'all will be able to get it with the context given #but let me know if you want a list of the phrases translated!!!

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sinsiriuslyemo · 8 years ago

Note

Could you do a imagine where Nevada runs a brothel, she is one of his top earners and he wants to be with her in more ways then one but at first she doesn't Want it but eventually gives in? Love you! Any questions you know where to reach me. Thank yoooou.

Hey sweetums!! Thank you so so much for being patient with me on this! I’m so sorry it took so long, but I finally got the flow going last night with this. Not gonna lie, it took me to a place I have never been lol It turned out a lot longer than any other imagine I’ve done. Thought about doing it in parts, but I’m just going to post it as one long post. I hope you enjoy it. Also, I could swear that I had another request from you, but I don’t see it in my inbox anymore. Would you be a dear and send it again when you have a chance?

Also, thanks to @abrasivepersonalitytendersoul and my amazing @missjennifercole for beta. Love you both!!

WARNING: Voyerism, FemDom, Light Humiliation, Delayed Orgasm, Bondage, D/s

Further warning: Guys, this one took me to a very odd place that I had never been before lol just a warning that this is not for the faint of heart. This bitch is for real!

Nevada always knew there were kinky men in New York, but he underestimated just how many of them there were. In fact it wasn’t until he hired Vixie that he realized just how many of the good citizens of Manhattan enjoyed being dominated and humiliated. At least two hundred that he had counted, and they were all willing to pay top dollar to be bound and edged for hours...but only by Vixie. After he realized how much money the brunette was racking in, he asked some of his other girls to perform the same services, but none of the clients wanted the other girls. They only wanted Vixie.

Trujillo could admit that she was gorgeous; thick dark brown hair that fell in effortless waves past her shoulders, dark, soulful eyes, delectable, smooth skin, and a sexy body with curves to die for, but he couldn’t understand what was so special about her that men couldn’t accept the exact same treatment from the other girls. Shit, he had a redhead that could bend herself every which way a man could think of. A blonde that had a mouth like a trucker and would let you put it anywhere. What was it about this caramel skinned Latina that judges, doctors, surgeons, CEOs just couldn’t get enough of?

Not that he was complaining; it was because of these men’s addictions that he was sitting pretty with hundreds of thousands of dollars rolling in without counting the earnings from any of the other girls. Nevada never complained about making an abundance of money, but she intrigued him. While most of the other girls he employed flirted with him, offered him hours of their time (probably in hopes he would make them his plaything and not have to work to maintain their lifestyle anymore), she never gave him much more of a nod in greeting, sometimes a hint of smile would be directed his way. He wasn’t exactly used to women not throwing themselves at him.

Walking into the brownstone, he glanced in the direction of the parlor where all the girls would gather until a client would request some private time. He smirked when he saw Vixie standing by the grand piano, champagne glass in hand and a sexy silk blouse that tied together in the front and only covered the skin about halfway down her stomach. A pair of lace, frilly panties covered her naughty bits, and he licked his lips, taking long strides towards her.

“Hey Nevada,” he heard from his left, and he glanced over to see Dyna making her way to him, her hands coming to smooth over his broad chest. “You look hot tonight,” she mused, biting her bottom lip as one of her hands brought his to her ass.

“Gracias, mami,” he answered, smirking down at her.

“I don’t suppose I could interest you in a few hours with a sista, could I?” she asked, reaching down to cup his bulge. “Mm, I’ve always wanted to try Dominican cock,” she whispered, rubbing him through the denim of his jeans.

“You gotta work tonight, mami.”

“Aw, but Nevada it’s so slow tonight. Wednesdays always are...I could spare an hour or two,” she purred, moving his free hand over her lace covered breast. “You ain’t never had a ride till you’ve had me, baby.”

He smirked again, shaking his head. “Not tonight, mami. Gotta have that nice mocha skin right here in the parlor. You know how much our customers love your chocolate,” he replied in a sensual growl. “But I guess I should make sure you’re nice and wet for them, hm?”

She nodded eagerly and he dipped his head to give her a slow, hungry kiss, letting his tongue mingle with hers briefly before he hummed against her mouth and pulled away, leaving her breathless. Giving her a gentle spank, he moved past her to approach Vixie.

“Hola mami.”

She looked up at him, eyes giving him a once over as she smirked.

“Nevada,” she hummed in a breathy voice. It was the first time she’d ever spoken his name, and he smiled around a closed mouth, vowing to have her say his name again.

“You got a minute?” he asked softly, taking another step towards her.

Once again she looked him up and down, tilting her head and taking a small sip of her champagne as she glanced at the grandfather clock by the fireplace.

“My seven o’clock will be here soon,” she answered.

“It won’t take long,” he assured her, gesturing to the downstairs bedroom (the room only he was permitted to use whenever he slept here) with his head. “Five minutes.”

“Five minutes,” she repeated firmly, setting down her champagne on the mantle and walking with him into the bedroom.

Closing the door behind him, he let his eyes devour the gorgeous curve of her ass, barely covered by the frilly white lace of her panties. He suddenly felt the urge to bite into one of her perfect globes and growled under his breath.

“What can I do for you?” she asked, turning to face him, casually flipping some of her mane over her shoulder.

“Wanted to see if you want a night off,” he said softly. “You work almost every night. It’s Wednesday, always slow on Wednesdays.” He uses Dyna’s words in an effort to persuade Vixie to spend the night in his room.

She laughed, head tilting back in amusement before strutting towards him, hands coming to his chest to push him against the closed door.

“Maybe for most of the girls,” she purred, looking at him from beneath her long lashes. “Not for me,” she whispered. “Do you wanna know what I think?”

“What’s that?” he whispered back, enjoying the close proximity.

“I think you want a taste of Vixie, don’t you, Nevada? You dirty boy. You asked me in here so I would spend the night with you,” she accused as her hands traveled down his sternum at a snail’s pace, slipping beneath his leather jacket. “Isn’t that right? You want me to fuck you...suck your cock...let you ravage my tight pussy all night, don’t you?”

He nodded his head gently. No use in lying. He’d had most of the women who worked for him at least once, some of them more than once. Why should she be any different?

“Oh you dirty, dirty boy,” she billowed, her chin tilting up, mouth inching closer to his just as her fingers reached his belt. He heard a soft groan escape through his lips and closed his mouth to keep it from happening again, but she’d heard it too and smiled in satisfaction. “Do you think about me, Nevada?” she asked in a hushed voice. “Do you think about my mouth wrapped around your cock? Think about me letting you fuck me? Letting you come inside me?”

Again he nodded, seemingly unable to speak or think of anything except how close her beautiful, perfect pout was to his.

“Well I’m not going to. You couldn’t handle me...Jefe,” she said in velvety breath before stepping away from him.

The absence of her warmth left him feeling as though he’d just been doused with a bucket of ice water. Before he could say anything else, he felt himself being pushed forward as she opened the door and slipped out, leaving him hard and unsatisfied. For a moment he just stood there, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Nevada always got what he wanted, most of the time without even trying. She should’ve been begging him to let her sleep in here every night.

So why wasn’t she? Moreover, why was he now yearning to not just have her for one night, but every night. Why was he suddenly jealous of the old, overweight men whom she satisfied night after night with a smile on her face?

Shrugging off his jacket, he tossed it to the chair in the corner and turned on the CCTV, which he always kept on to make sure none of the men who came through here got out of line with any of his girls. Opening the door, he eyed Dyna moving to the fridge to grab a fresh bottle of champagne for the parlor.

“Psst.” She looked over at him at the sound he made with his lips and tongue, smiling when he crooked a finger and beckoned her over. “How bout some chocolate for daddy,” he purred, gently pinching her chin when she came up to the door.

“Just let me bring this bottle out,” she replied without hesitation.

“No, bring that too,” he answered, hand carefully closing around her wrist and tugging her inside to pin her up against the back of the door. “Your pussy’s mine tonight, me entiendes?”

She nodded her head, opening the bottle and letting the bubbly liquid spill over her lace bra and gasping innocently. Nevada smirked, bending to bury his face in her cleavage as he picked her up, letting wrap her long legs around his waist. Bringing her over to the bed, he laid her down where he could still see the CCTV, still see Vixie bringing her seven o’clock regular into her bedroom on the small square in center of the screen.

“You on the pill?” he asked against her nipple, sucking and biting the dark peak as Dyna answered in a husky voice, “IUD, baby.”

He nodded, looking up to watch Vixie’s John take off his clothes while the brunette watched with her hands on her hips. Moving to take his pants off, Nevada pulled himself out and groaned when Dyna didn’t hesitate to take him into her mouth. His hand went to the back of her head, but his eyes, his eyes stayed on the closed circuit TV, on Vixie as she pointed to the bed and her client immediately went to kneel on the mattress. He watched as she put a ball gag in the man’s mouth and tied his hands and feet behind his back.

Nevada wished more than anything that he could hear what Vixie was saying to her John instead of the slurping sound Dyna’s mouth was making on his organ. He wished he could feel the ropes tied tight around his wrists and ankles, taste the rubber of the gag in his mouth--

“Can you put Vixie’s channel on?” he heard Dyna ask before her mouth was once again filled with his cock. He looked down at her with furrowed brows and it was then that he realized she was watch the CCTV too.

“What?” he asked, waiting until she looked up at him and let his appendage pop from between her lips. Her hand stroked him as she smiled up him.

“You can just switch the channel to watch each room individually with sound and turn on the TV up there to pick up the other rooms,” she answered, gesturing to the small screen mounted to the wall, much higher that the one that was currently displaying all the bedrooms. “Chibby was in here yesterday, he fixed it all up,” she explained further.

“Ah si?” he asked with a smirk. He’d have to remember to thank his IT guy for the upgrade later. “How do you know that, mami?”

She blushed, something he assumed she hardly ever did.

“Don’t get mad, but some of us were in here after he left, watching Vixie with her Johns...did you know she never fucks them?”

He arched a brow; if Vixie never had sex with any of the guys that came in here, what exactly did she do to them that made them come back every fucking week for more?

“It’s so hot to watch her make them her slaves. Work them up, and make them beg her to let them come,” Dyna purred, taking him into her mouth again as she moaned, eyes staring up at him. “I want you to watch her while I worship your cock, Nevada.”

“I aim to please.”

He smirked down at her, reaching for the remote and handing it to her. She grinned around his organ, changing the channel so that only Vixie and her John were on the screen, with sound. The other TV seemed to turn on by itself as soon as all the rooms were out of view on the main screen.

‘You filthy little pervert…’ he heard from the larger screen that now only showed Vixie with her John, and he watched while Dyna sucked him until she was begging him to fuck her. He did. Nevada pounded relentlessly into Dyna while his eyes stayed trained on Vixie dominating every single John that came to see her without so much as taking more than her blouse off. And the men always cleaned up after themselves, happy to do so with their tongues before they would worship Vixie’s feet.

How the fuck did she do that? And why did that only make Nevada want her more?

Over the course of the next week, Nevada would sit in the downstairs room of the brownstone, watching Vixie on the main screen while the smaller screen displayed the other rooms. Most of the time, he would do so alone, other times he would invite one of the girls to suck him off or ride him while he watched the brunette Latina humiliate John after John. He would wonder if she didn’t want him because he wasn’t submissive like these men were, or maybe because they paid her and he wouldn’t. Whatever the reason, Nevada was determined to have her, and not just have her for a night or even two or three, but have her completely.

He waited until he knew she had a night off and went to her apartment in the West Village, knocking boldly on the door and casually leaning up against the doorframe. When she opened her front door, he smirked, expecting for her to drop the act she put on at the brownstone.

“Hola mami,” he purred, taking in her tight dress and high heels. “You look nice,” he added as he let his eyes appreciate her curves for the upteenth time.

“Can I help you, Nevada?” she asked, clearly unamused by his compliment.

“You can drop the act, mami. We’re not at work.”

She arched a perfectly shaped brow, and it was then that he realized that her demeanor at the brownstone wasn’t an act. That was all her.

“I wanna take you out,” he offered, stepping out of his comfort zone. His idea of taking a woman out usually consisted of getting a blowjob in the back of his SUV on the way to a motel where he would fuck her until he was sated. Except this time, when he asked Vixie to go out with him, he really meant he wanted to wine and dine her.

“Still thinking about me?” she inquired, regaling him with a smirk of her own. “I told you it’ll never happen.”

“Why not?” he asked, almost annoyed at her dismissal of him.

“Men like you don’t respect women. I don’t waste my time with those kinds of men unless they truly want to change. Then maybe,” she answered.

“I wanna change,” he heard himself say. Oye, you have never worked this hard for pussy, mi hermano. “I respect women,” he added.

“Bullshit.”

“Come on, Vixie...just let me take you out,” he cooed, picking up one of her delicate hands and kissing her knuckles. “Te lo judo que yo voy hacer un caballero.” (I promise I’ll be a gentleman.)

“I’m not interested in dinner,” she answered, making him frown as she gave him a once over. “But you fascinate me,” she added. “Come in. Lock the door. Say nothing.”

He grinned, doing as she asked and watching her move to where her remote control was to shut off the TV. Moving back towards him, she again let her eyes scan his frame, circling him slowly to check out everything he had to offer.

“Why don’t you take off that leather jacket, it’s summertime. Who the Hell wears leather during the summer?” she taunted, earning a smirk from him.

“Nevada Ramirez,” he answered, peeling his jacket off.

“I don’t remember saying you could speak,” she said sternly. “That’s gonna cost you. You’re lucky if I let you have an orgasm as it is.”

She took his jacket and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards her bedroom and tossing the leather jacket on her couch. Once they were in her room, she gestured to the bed.

“Strip and lie down,” she ordered, standing by the dresser with her hands on her hips. He obeyed, biting down on his bottom lip briefly as he took off his clothes and laid on the bed. “I’m going to tie you to the headboard because I want to be sure that you can’t touch me, do you understand?”

He nodded.

“You will answer, ‘yes, ma’am’ when I ask you a question, Nevada.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good boy,” she purred, pulling a pair of handcuffs from the dresser and sashaying over to him to secure him to the headboard. When she was done, she let her fingertips slide down his arm to his chest and his stomach, stopping just centimeters from his already hard cock. “Already so aroused,” she taunted, taking her time to examine his package. “Such a big cock ready for me to do what I want with.”

She giggled, clearly amused with herself as she bit her bottom lip and brought her hands to her own body. Humming softly, she moved her hands over her form.

“Should I take this off?” she asked innocently.

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered.

“No, I don’t think I will,” she replied, mocking him with a pout. “You think you respect women with how you use them for your own pleasure? You think women were put on this Earth to amuse you?”

“No, ma’am.”

“That’s right, they weren’t. You need to learn how to satisfy a woman before you worry about satisfying your own needs. I’m going to teach you that,” she purred, moving to straddle his abdomen. “I’m going to teach you how to control yourself, dirty boy. You don’t think I heard Dyna telling all the other girls how you fucked her while you watched me with my clients?”

He swallowed hard. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Did you like watching me, you little pervert?” she asked huskily as she bent to whisper the words against his mouth. “Did you like watching me touch those other men, making them my slaves? Turning them into whimpering little messes? Did you like watching me jerk them off?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Dirty boy,” she purred, running a hand down his naked chest. “Now, you listen to me you little perv. Your cock belongs to me now,” she said, and he smirked. “Your orgasms belong to me, that means that you will only ever come by my hand...and just to be sure that you’re not tempted to jerk yourself off one day…”

She got off of him, and he glanced down at the damp spot on his stomach where she’d been sitting, and smiled. His smile fell when he looked back up to see her holding a small cage shaped like a penis. His erection started to deflate immediately.

“I’m going to be putting you into this...do you know what this is?” she asked, coming to let him see the object closer.

“No, ma’am.”

“This is a chastity belt. Only I will have the key. This is so that you won’t be able to touch yourself when I’m not around. While you're watching me with other men, you won’t be able to invite other women into your room to pleasure you,” she said, smirking at the look on his face. “Don’t worry, I’m going to allow you one more orgasm before we put you into this,” she added and he sighed in relief.

She smiled, setting the chastity belt on the nightstand and picking up the bottle of lube she kept there. Pouring some onto his erection, she added some on her palm before she began to slowly stroke him back to life.

“You’ll wear the chastity belt until you can learn some control, do you understand?” she asked, looking up at him and he nodded his head.

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered, licking his lips as he watched her hand move over him expertly.

“Only when you learn that control, and when you learn to please me the way I deserve to be pleased will I allow you to not have to wear it anymore. From now until I say so, you’ll be my sex slave. You’ll watch me every night from your room downstairs, watch me with other men without being able to touch yourself or have someone else touch you. After I’m done working for the night, you will please me, make me come as many times as I want. With your mouth, with your cock...and only after I’m satisfied will I let you come. Some nights I may just want to edge you and not let you come at all.”

He gulped softly and she giggled, moving again to lay beside him on the bed, close enough to tuck his head in the crook of her neck with her free hand. He seemed to relax a bit when he smelled her perfume, and nuzzled against her skin.

“Every time you’re a good boy for Vixie, you’ll earn a point...and when you reach a hundred points, you’ll have earned your freedom. It may take a few weeks or a few months, but by then you’ll learn how to behave yourself,” she whispered, stroking his hair with one hand while the other moved over his organ.

He moaned softly against her skin, nodding his head as he looked down to see his tip poking through her loose fist as her hand moved over him.

“Now, get hard for Vixie,” she purred, her index finger moving soft circles just beneath his crown before she resumed the up and down motion over his entire shaft. “That’s a good boy,” she whispered when his cock throbbed in her palm as more blood made it’s way into it. Humming with a smile, she reached a little further down to fondle his scrotum before stroking his shaft again.

He groaned against her neck, wondering how he had gone from being the complete opposite of the men he’d watched her with for the last week to completely vulnerable to her assault, and wanting more. God, he wanted so much more.

“Have you been imagining this, Nevada? Have you been imagining what it might be like to have me touch you?” she asked, earning another moan from him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he shuddered, breath coming out in soft pants against her neck as he whimpered.

“I can tell,” she said, pumping his cock a little harder and just the slightest bit faster. “Such a big cock, Dyna wasn’t exaggerating,” she moaned, moving her finger over his slit, which earned another groan from him. “That’s it, just relax, baby. Let Vixie take care of you one last time before we lock you away in that chastity belt.”

He let out a half sob at the idea of not only being denied orgasms whenever he wanted, but being denied an erection all together until she saw fit to let him have one. It was infuriating and arousing all at once, and he found himself rocking his hips into her hand.

“Now, now…” She took her hand away and he whimpered again, organ jumping and twitching to find her warmth again. “Don’t you dare fuck my hand,” she ordered gently, waiting until he’d calmed down enough to stop moving his hips. “That’s a good boy,” she whispered in praise, kissing his forehead.

Her hand was on him again, resuming it’s hard, steady pace.

“You’re gonna let me play with you until I’m done,” she purred, earning a growl from him. “I bet if I’d let you have your way with me, you would just throw me down on the bed, rip my clothes off and fuck me silly, wouldn’t you?” she asked in a breathy voice.

“Yes, ma’am,” he whimpered against her soft skin.

“Hm...you would like that, wouldn't you? You’d love to give me the first cock I’ve had inside me in weeks...wouldn't you?”

“Yes, ma’am…”

“You’d love it if I just took this big cock in my mouth and sucked you bone dry, wouldn’t you?” She gave his shaft a light, but firm pat and he yelped. “You fucking pervert,” she growled softly, wrapping her hand tighter around his shaft and stroking him faster. “Tell me when you feel like you’re about to come,” she warned. “I don’t want you coming unless I say you can.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered in a heavy whisper, moaning loudly and nuzzling further against her skin.

“Such a good boy, Nevada...there may be hope for you yet, Jefe,” she mused, giggling softly and biting her bottom lip as she continued to pump his shaft, getting faster and faster.

“I’m gonna come,” he croaked and sobbed when she slowed her hand down.

“Not yet...I’m not done playing with your cock yet,” she replied. “Calm down,” she cooed, fingers lacing through his tresses softly. His breathing eventually slowed and he hummed as his eyes looked up into hers. “That’s Vixie’s good boy.”

She edged him three more times, and he thought he might cry with how desperate he had become. He would’ve done anything for her if she would just let him reach the place where he wanted most to be.

“Vixie, por favor,” he choked, fighting the urge to buck up into her hand. “Let me come, I wanna come, please!!” he begged.

“Yes, you can come,” she whispered against his forehead, hand moving more persistently over him and he moaned with her approval. “That’s right, Nevada, come for me. Come for your Vixie.”

“Oh fuck!!” he roared as his orgasm was finally allowed to surge through him and he yanked on the cuffs as his ab muscles contracted with the force of his release. She stroked him through it, moaning along with him as stream after stream of hot ejeculate shot from his appendage and landed on his stomach.

“Hmm,” she hummed around a smile as she gently caressed his shaft, nails lightly scraping the thick vein on the underside.

Turning her head so that her lips were inches away from his, she moaned. Just as he moved to close the space between their mouths, she stood, slinking to the bathroom to wet a face cloth with warm water. She came back into the bedroom and wiped him clean before grabbing the steel chastity belt and securing him in it. Then she uncuffed him, and smiled.

“You can sleep for a little while, and then you have to leave,” she said, running her fingers through his sweaty tresses. “Prove to me that you can be a good boy...and next time maybe I’ll let you kiss me.”

With that, she moved back into the living room, turning out the light on her way out and closing the bedroom door. Normally he would’ve been out the door as soon as he’d dropped his load, but now he did sleep. And as he lay in her bed, smells of her sweet perfume lingering on the pillow and his skin, he realized there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to have more of Vixie.

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wp-yahoo-style-1042-yahoopa-blog · 8 years ago

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Zoe Saldana’s 3 Sons Are Obsessed With Female Superheroes

Zoe Saldana. (Photo: Christopher Beyer/Getty Images)

If there’s a secret to having it all, Zoe Saldana hasn’t found it yet.

The actress, who plays bounty hunter Gamora in Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, is also raising twins Cy and Bowie, 2, and infant Zen with her artist husband, Marco Perego-Saldana (yes, he took her last name).

She documents the family’s globetrotting lifestyle on Instagram, so one can’t help but wonder: How does she headline huge film franchises with three kids under the age of 3 at home?

Saldana answers with her characteristic good-humored candor: “Our assistant, our nanny, and our housekeeper. They are literally raising our children with us. It’s because of them I am able to rip myself away as long as I can, and my husband as well, to do what we do. They’re teaching us how to manage our pain as they’re raising our kids with us.”

Thank god for these little guys, who keep me active. Best alternative to working out. Is my husband checking out my ass?? Cool! ????gracias a Dios por estos morochos que me mantienen activa sin cesar. Buena alternative al gimnasio. Estará mi marido dándome un vistazo?? Que bueno! #lovemyshape

A post shared by Zoe Saldana (@zoesaldana) on Apr 6, 2017 at 7:13pm PDT

It’s the rare celebrity who admits to having help at home, not doing everything single-handedly, regardless of the fact that it’s logistically impossible to work 16-hour days without having someone cook dinner or clean the bathroom.

She’s careful not to downplay the impact her long hours have on her brood. “When you’re away a little too much, it compromises a lot more things. It’s a sacrifice and a pain that will never go away. You take every day at a time. If something changes in their behavior, you know how to adjust to it,” Saldana says.

#gratitude #humbled #selfie

A post shared by Zoe Saldana (@zoesaldana) on May 2, 2017 at 6:23pm PDT

But then again, she’s justifiably proud of everything she has earned and wants that same sense of achievement to trickle down to her boys. Saldana, after all, wasn’t born into a Hollywood family, nor was anything ever handed to her.

“I don’t want to raise kids who put other people’s priorities first. They need to know how to put their priorities where they need to be,” says Saldana, 38. “You show them how you fight for your dreams.”

After a long day of shooting…popcorn! #gotgvol2 #Gamora #bts

A post shared by Zoe Saldana (@zoesaldana) on Apr 15, 2017 at 2:13pm PDT

For Saldana, the fear of being typecast by starring in three science fiction tentpoles — the Star Trek, Avatar, and Guardians of the Galaxy series — is outweighed by a desire to be a female role model in movies typically headlined by men. She recalls growing up and being “famished” for someone strong, smart, and powerful on the big screen who wasn’t a dude, someone like Ellen Ripley, the character played by Sigourney Weaver in the original Alien. And she sees the same hunger in her sons.

“I’m raising three boys as someone who has done three movies that have become franchises. My boys are obsessed with female superheroes. And we have to search high and low to find those toys,” she says.

A post shared by Zoe Saldana (@zoesaldana) on Apr 20, 2017 at 5:01pm PDT

Born in New York City and raised partially there and in the Dominican Republic (where her father grew up), Saldana is the middle of three daughters. But now, she says, she’s fully immersed in the world of boys. Her sons “are demanding a female presence as much as a male presence. I am accepting this ironic challenge that this universe has presented to me. I learn every day that men are marvelous and wonders of light, the same way I’ve been feeling about women, because I come from a family of matriarchs,” she says. “I’ve married a man that I worship every day, and I have sons that humble me to no end.”

Saldana is tight with her sisters. So playing Gamora, her Guardians of the Galaxy character, who has a fraught and ugly relationship with her sibling Nebula, was, well, a challenge at best; they’re pitted against each other by their abusive dad, Thanos. “I was emotionally compromised. I’m a sucker for father stories. I lost my dad when I was 9,” she says. “I can’t imagine a moment in our lives where (my sisters and I) have reached a place where we’ve caused irreparable damage. I went there, with Gamora and Nebula.”

A post shared by Zoe Saldana (@zoesaldana) on Apr 10, 2017 at 9:18pm PDT

There’s something utterly irresistible about Saldana, who’s effusive without being fake or cloying. Her husband is nearby during this evening interview, and when he walks up to her, Saldana recalls how he instantly charmed her when they first laid eyes on each other.

“I met this man, I shook his hand, and I’m like, ‘I’m going to have babies with you. I’m going to marry you. And my life is going to be done,'” she recalls of their first encounter. “After shaking hands at 6 a.m. on a plane, six months later we were married. Eight months later, we were pregnant. It wasn’t a joke. It really happened.”

Zoe Saldana in Emilio Pucci, with her husband, Marco Perego-Saldana. (Photo: Getty Images)

The two tied the knot in a secret wedding in 2013 and, to this day, they generally keep details about their lives private. They never show their sons’ faces on social media, a decision Saldana said she made because her boys should choose if and when they become public figures.

There is, however, one source of friction Saldana wants to address, when asked about her hubby’s gorgeously tousled tresses. “I’ll tell you his hair secret. He uses all of my hair products. That’s his secret. At least once every two weeks, I’m like, ‘Marco, I just bought this conditioner. Can you stop using it?’ He’s a dude. He’ll squeeze half a bottle and put it on his hair. Which is why I don’t buy expensive products to use on us,” she says.

Zoe Saldana in Alexander McQueen. (Photo: Getty Images)

When it comes to red carpet style, however, Saldana is all about the glam. She veers from slinky Roksanda and Alexander McQueen frocks to a monochromatic Prabal Gurung she donned in Hollywood. She’s a fan of both established brands and newcomers. One look that particularly stood out to her was the sculptural black Ulyana Sergeenko she wore to the London premiere of Guardians.

She views fashion as an extension of her work and not just something that’s foisted on her as an A-list celebrity: “If you make art out of everything you’re doing, the child in you can survive and not grow bitter or sarcastic or cynical,” she says. “I always push for sexiness, because as I grow older, my insecurity gets larger.”

Zoe Saldana in Ulyana Sergeenko. (Photo: Getty Images)

Wait, hold up. Saldana, with her willowy frame — the product of years of ballet as a youngster — and flawless skin, suffers from self-doubt? Of course she does, and refuses to pretend otherwise. She talks about the challenges of raising mixed-race boys and learning as they grow, while being mixed herself (her mom is Puerto Rican, her dad Dominican).

“I’m a human being, I’m an artist, I’m a woman in America during an unconventional presidency. It’s only logical for me to be honest. I owe the audience that much,” she says.

Read more from Yahoo Beauty + Style: • I Was There: Juiciest Behind-the-Scenes Moments From the Met Gala Red Carpet • Real Life Superhero Chris Pratt Makes Sick Kids’ Dreams Come True — and Unwinds With Caviar Facials • How Cutting Out Doughnuts Got Rid of Beth Behrs’s ‘Mortifying’ Skin Rash • ‘If It’s a Little Revealing, Whatever’ Is Ariel Winter’s Body-Positive Style Ethos • Laura Linney’s No-Frills Beauty Secrets: Popcorn and Meditation

yahoo

#_revsp:wp.yahoo.style.us #_author:Donna Freydkin #_uuid:ea37e203-7b21-3b06-af6e-5271778dfc8e #Celebrity #News #Style #Gamora #Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 #Zoe Saldana #Avatar #celebrity style #_lmsid:a0Vd000000AE7lXEAT

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liam--molina · 8 years ago

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Jefe | Self-Para

“Start the car, I’ll be down in five. Make sure everyone is where they need to be, I’m not trying to have any slip ups today.” Lupe hung up the phone and dropped it into her purse before checking herself over in the mirror. She wanted to leave while everyone was asleep, hoping by the time she came back she could just slip back inside and the only one who would know she was gone was Isaac. It gave her a strong sense of comfort knowing he was looking out for her on the back end of things and although she expected it to be a smooth visit, one could never be too careful. Sliding her sunglasses on as she walked outside, she gave a small smile in the direction of the man holding the door open for her. “Gracias Gabriel. I like that shirt on you, it looks good.” Her smile widened as she saw the surprise on his face of getting a compliment from her and a stuttered “G-gracias, Señora Molina, I just got it.” She patted his arm before letting the door close, appreciating how they gave her the respect of calling her señora, despite the fact that she wasn’t married and that most of the men and women that worked for her and her fathers were twice her age.

The drive was only about 20 minutes and she spent it texting her father to catch him up as well as texting Isaac on their untraced phones about what exactly it was she was doing and what should be expected. She took a breath as they pulled up to a large house, a set of men curiously staring at the car as her door opened and she stepped out of it, smirking when she saw the reactions.

“M-Ms Molina, we weren’t expecting you today. I-”

Lupe held up her hand to stop him from speaking as she walked towards the front door and turned to the man standing in front of it. “You and I both know I don’t need an appointment so open this door or I’ll make you open it. It’s up to you really.” She glanced behind her for a moment, just to re-assure herself that all of her men and women were following, making sure that no one would act up. The door opened in the next second and adjusted her bag on the crook of her elbow, smiling to herself as she felt the power in the way her heels clicked on the floor. These types of moments were a process, a test for herself to see just how strong she was, just how much work she had done. She wasn’t perfect and she had a different style than her father but there was no mistaking that she was his daughter through and through.

She kept a blank expression as she climbed the large staircase in front of her, pushing open the doors at the top of the stairs to reveal the person she intended to see, surrounded by very few of his men, a few women in bikinis and what appeared to be newly cut lines, one that was smeared all over the man’s nose. “Really? Could you get anymore cliche, Hernando?”

She had to keep her smile down when he jumped up, wiping at his nose as he ran through all the reasons in his head that would require her to visit. “L-Lupe, what are you doing here? I have a meeting with your father next week, I didn’t expect to see you. What are you doing in the Bahamas? I...can I get you some coffee?”

Lupe let out a laugh and shook her head, looking around, making her way towards him. “I think we both know why I’m here, stop acting surprised and wipe that shit off your nose, you look pathetic.” She pulled her sunglasses off finally and slid them into her bag, eyeing the woman around him. “You should all get out of here, we have some business to discuss. I’m sure you can manage being away from his small dick and gross hands for a while.” She looked at them and then snapped her fingers, “I said go, so go.” Once they jumped up and left she took a set across from him, crossing one leg over the other.

“I’m going to get right to it, I’m not here to negotiate, I’m not here to play games or hear your excuses or whatever other bullshit you think you can pull because you’re dealing with me, not my father. But you do owe my father money. Over 3 million to be exact and yet here you are, hanging out, getting high off your own supply and yet my father has not seen a single penny of this 3 million.” She sat up a bit, brushing her hair from her face. “Let me make myself clear, Hernando, you come up with that 3 million by next week or I will come back here personally and put a bullet right in your head and throw your body to those crocodiles that you insist on having. I mean really? Crocodiles? Ridiculously extra. Me entiendes?”

“Yes, of course, of course. You know, I am not trying to fuck over your father, Lupe. And I don’t know why he needs to send you when he can come himself, I’m not afraid to talk to him, I am innocent, I haven’t been stealing, something just got backed up, I promise.”

Lupe shook her head as she got to her feet and walked over to him, putting her hand around his throat as she got closer to him. “Let’s get a few things straight. I am not here as some lackey, I am here as your soon to be boss so you show me some fucking respect. And don’t lie to my face. I am giving you a chance so you shut up, you nod and you do what you need to do. Do not give me excuses and do not insult me like I’m some child. I am not afraid of you, I am not intimidated, and you are lucky to even still be alive right now so I suggest you get your shit right or I will make good on my promise. Understood?”

When he nodded she squeezed his neck a little tighter, nails digging into his skin before she pulled her hand away, keeping her eyes on him as he caught his breath and continued to nod. “Let this be a lesson to all of you,” she said as she looked around at her people and his. “From here on out you no longer deal with my father, he has put up with your asses for far too long and you have given him shit in return. This is your last chance. Get it together and live your life in peace. Fuck up and you all suffer.” She looked around one more time and back to Hernando before walking out of the room and back down to the car, pulling out her phone to tell Isaac she was coming home and to pour out some shots, she was in the mood for celebrating.

#jefe #sp #self para

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chaoscrystals · 7 years ago

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Every note in my phone 19

Maybe I can speed up the present. All I can think about is how I'm going to dominate the art world. I guess that's kind of fucked up? I feel dizzy and like my blood sugar is low. My body must look so disgusting I'm always burping. I must be disgusting that's why Ariel never hits me up All I can think about is how I want an art empire that is accessible to people of all races and social classes And how I want this sandwich I'm about to go eat. I'm so much fatter than I was when I was 18 that's why Ariel never hits me up anymore!!! :(__(_((((( It's really not worth beating myself up over. Pretty sure I got a yeast infection from fucking him anyway. * Why does my back hurt so much why does everything hurt why is life pain. when have I gotten to the point where I can hold all my pain and all my ecstasy at the same time, for one moment and then the moment ends and I'm back on the train again trying to make time go faster. If I was decaying I would look like black and pus and torn flesh, strips of flesh covering what once was my body. She killed me and left me in the woods to die. Put me in the back of her trunk. Headlights were right blue. Righteous and it was..she thought it was good. I wasn't either dissatisfied, but isn't dying to hurt and be sad? I could spit black tar right here and people would probably just turn away in disgust, I could vomit up maggots, yeah girl its the same as it is for you too. I don't want you anymore he always wanted me. I'm taking you with me. Now we are dead. It came to me in a flash I had a divine vision. Of music. And being alone. * The boy means everything to me I got him in the corner of my sleeve, oh the bend of my elbow i lean on the table looking over at you I see the empty glass it magnifies you I'm ready I'm ready we're starting again, you're starting to break my heart again * Male exclusivity needs to die. Some men really can't be around women if they aren't fucking someone it seems. Ugh. Get away from me. Wake the fuck up. Sorry that everyone made us think that our bodies alone are sexual and need to be covered. I do so many non sexual things with my body. Americans can tend to being lethargic. I'm so angry * Im all caught in vines . sleeping time leaks the day its dripping in green and surrounding me. Phonetically speaking I think your words have more meaning than you realize Pick it up again inspired by my friends and I'm feeling feeling so good. Pack up your bags and take a vacation take yourself to rockaway * There's nothing special about me I bet you could compare me to any other girl in the world and id seem just the same, got a pretty face and her head isn't too bad either. And if you asked me today id say I don't think nothing special about me neither but id tell you what I know, that I'm the girl who would love you the most. * The praise on the water sought after colorful lights and pure tones Praise phoning in for a second chance in glasses cracked in the pavement red warring the light and wearing it as a disguise, praise be had, our Lord has grown old * Y stomach is too full its so full but I'm hungry and I don't have the energy to digest. I never needed to eat that much * So excited to be your own boss until the app doesn't give you work!! I'm gonna stop acting like I'm not doing things for a reaction or to make people think something of me. I am. Including playing music I am almost to the point where I dont have near anxiety attacks from eating around people. Proud of myself Taking kindness at surface level only is probably not going to cause any progress. Take all of me, baby. Even if I'm mean from time to time. I'm not okay with people's boundaries being broken in a monogamous relationship. But I don't really believe in monogamous relationships. Maybe I'm just cynical but it seems like there are too many rules. Or maybe it's all a ploy to lure guys in because they'll think I'm easygoing but I'm not I want to tell everyone every single one of my thoughts that sounds like a fun game * Jonathan is on my mind I've always had a craving for a good hearted musician and someone who will counter my unbalance, prince charming rides in on a horse, who brought the horse into the street who's mans is that? Are they getting with the plan do they understand or do you only like me because i have connections to new dimensions * I'm in love with nothing This haunting feeling Like I know what comes next I'm in love with nothing There's a hole in my heart when its growing apart it gets darker and smaller and I'm falling in love with you again * It isn't fair he will never hear me. He will never see me or understand me, when the mere sight of him sends me spinning away from anything easy to feel, I'm feeling so dreary one second and the next I got jets on my feet, flying over the moon cause I'm so in love with you * I just enjoy Jonathan is my whole heart!! One day he will know * Songs to write out Gracias a la vida Stormy weather Good morning heartache Lover man where can you be April in Paris * I want to tell people how hard my life is! * My song for you This is my song for you I like everything you do When I see you its like a cool breeze graced me with unending presently waiting pleasant and unchanging you seem stable to me, and I even like you when you're rocky. I like the lyrics I like the melody, you're like music, lets make a baby And live together In the city and very far. We can have two houses and even a car This is my song for you I like everything you do When I realized it was you Wrap it in red and a bow, kiss my head, after your show I know I can be a hard one to break, I've heard all these stories of heart break, what do I choose, what to listen, use or lose. But I know when I'm with you my dreams start coming true * Deep desires Understand the universe. Have someone accompany me in my sadness and despair. I want to come back together I want to feel enlightened I want everyone to feel goddamned enlightened I'm definitely willing to open up portals make everyone realize we are collectively manifesting our reality I want everyone in new York city to know my name nova luz, the body inhabited by us. She needs a companion. Lets get her a partner or two. * How do i really feel about the boys that I think I love? My Spanish tongue isn't too sharp....I wish...shit man, you just have to try harder to get it right. Laser mind. Not tonight. Michael is the name of an angel and no matter how hard I try or how much I'm thinking about Jonathan I still wonder about Michael and we spent more time together than Jonathan and I ever have. Fuck me. What are either of them up to? Why do neither of them talk to me. Haven't seen either one in weeks. I think I feel like I'm attached or in love. No matter how hard I try to forget...not trying hard enough you stupid fucking cunt! You're so fucking weak nova!. I wish someone knew how much I fucking hate myself sometimes I don't get why I just internalize this and nobody can ever know and its always a dead end fall off a cliff and snap your spine on the rocks before you drown and are pummeled by the waterfall FUCK. I think about them every day I wish I had a boyfriend, but malificence red lipped and hooded with festering infections on her skin, she's standing in the way, she's guarding the little red dog in my heart, the little puppy with forgetful parents, crying and underfed in an alley way alone, you only care about the way it looks. The loving puppy. Loving little dog I love you so much I love you no matter what even if you took a knife to my throat severed my veins and rendered my body a corpse I would still love you. Shit man that's fucking intense. That's a part of me that needs some help. The unconditionally loving part.....have I been deceived? I feel as though she has been deceived, and people always want to exploit her loving nature. This is the world I live in today. What if I wake up tomorrow on another planet? Is my boyfriend going to be there? If it was a planet with fruit orchards brightly colored things little houses and healthy atmosphere I would be down. Since I'm making it up, my boyfriend is there too. He loves me and we only need each other. I love him so much it fills me with fullness and vibrancy. He loves me so much. We spend most of our time together enjoying the planet, and sometimes we cook a big feast together for our friends and they come over and we all play music and drink wine * I guess now is an appropriate time to work on my issues with jealousy right? Actually...maybe ill wait What if it was a giant poetic metaphor? Green goop spilling from my heart and getting stuck in my pelvis..melting out of my pelvis out onto the floor. My physical my non physical. Non psychic but spiritual. Elephants from India are a shymbol for wealthy. And poor. Bread. Winning. Happy family. Sad family. Bread. Okay Maybe now I can work on my massive jealousy issues. Okay I'm going to start by listing scenarios that make me jealous Any female speaks to a boy that I like (level 10 code red situation) Someone's life looks shinier than mine Julia's in middle eastern vogue My friends have things that I want Other people have things that I want Other peoples bands are playing at cooler venues I am literally not a musician my name is Harriet and I never leave my apartment. Yo these sensory hallucinations are too much sometimes. That was a side note. I think my biggest issue is that when I am into someone in a romantic way, I get really upset when I see them talking to like, anyone of the opposite sex. Or of the same sex with Ursula. Or when someone is skinnier than me. Sometimes I get jealous cause of that which is not allowed because I am not allowed to have an eating disorder. Why is Julia getting so much attention while simultaneously being underweight and anorexic??? Noooo oh my god is she okay? Is everyone else okay?? Why is that allowed are you people fucking retarded? I can't do these things without having a million other thoughts. But I'm breaking the surface which is something. This is a deep fear for me I don't intend to leave unchecked. * I want somebody to love. I think writing all this sad lonely poetry can't be helping kts hard not to hate yourself sometimes. I wish someone was reading this. I really want a boyfriend so badly but I'm resisting it because in want it to be Jonathan so I'm waiting for him and ignoring everyone else.that's scary I don't know where he's at. He never talks to me. I want to smash glass bottles over his head for being so detached Fuck you!!! He never talks to him I mean me but I think about him pretty much every day.this hurts Why am I being like this? Lately everything I do is to get his attention. I want to cry. I hardly get any attention from him this is ripping me up inside.I just keep these fantasies in my head and I fall in love with them but it's an illusion I'm in love with an illusion. This hurts my chest. All I want is his attention and he isn't giving me any!!! I should turn around and walk the other way but I know I wont because I'm still in my fantasies that we are the same and that he gets weird crazy visions as well and that I was a part of his. I think I'm going to be wrong. My heart.. * I'm hitting the resin in my pipe again. And writing semi cohesive notes about my feelings. Am I using boys as a distraction from my problems? Why do I always want someone to hear the most insecure parts of me....I always always share my deep insecurities, like, first before we even get to know each other. What a weird kind of flirting style that's so weirded out by myself. Like, why? Do I not realize that most people are too in denial to accept insecurities in someone else? Especially in a package as cute as a nova. I have some pretty great ideas in my head..heart..butt..whatever...all of me......... Dot dot dot * Feeling A poem by nova luz palaquibay brener Written in September of 2017 I can feel everything. Mannequin pussy is famous they were in new York Times and rolling stone and a bunch of other big name publications. In happy for them. Not like when Julia's thing got famous. Even though I didn't spend a ton of time with any of these people, they changed my life. I still feel a little intimidated by that world, by the professional world and its cutthroat attitude. I don't really like it or want to participate. I just wanna have a nice apartment with a nice boy and wake up at 7 am every day. I still want to play rock music Its fun Mannequin pussy has that song where Marissa goes "I'm feeling it all I gotta get home I gotta get up" I'm feeling it all I'm feeling it all I just want to share a room with a nice boy and Rowan can come too And we can have small shows where we support each other for the things we love about each other and we still love each other when the other one is being an asshole. I don't like thinking of myself in a negative way. It feels bad. I'm very childish. I'm insecure that the things I do aren't big enough. That's stupid. I'm mad at my mom for always acting like everything was a huge deal. Like, nothing was ever just chill and normal everything was something. I'm childish inside * September 7 2017 Dear j boxer, There are actually several thousand things I would like to be saying to you, but I don't want to overwhelm you and lose you. Oh my god. You make me so nervous. Did you realize?at flowers for all occasions. I have never been more stressed out at a show in my life. I was hyper focused on what you might be thinking of me. I want to pour out all the imbalance I feel and you can watch it run down into the drains Yes I still think about that. And don't think that the only side of me is erratic and unbalanced and bad, everyone has so many sides. I know you think the way i play is interesting. I know I can play well. I feel like I am everything when I think about you. I think about you every day. Would you still love me when I am nervous and insecure? Love me like this or you'll never love me at all, you can only leave me if you don't love me like this, my all. My heart. Sometimes I get chest pains What do you think about me? My dream partner is someone I can put together shows with. but not ordinary shows. I don't know. But it would be something. I can envision my dream partner: active, healthy, compassionate, loving, open, creative, enjoys sex, kisses my neck. Is it fair to tell you this? Am I asking too many questions? Is it fair that I want to tell you all this but we haven't exchanged a single word in weeks? I can't explain it, its a feeling in my body, it feels so electrifying I don't ever want to stop. I'm sorry I have to test you so much. I can't help it. I think I'm like that with everyone. I wonder what you are doing now? If I said I wasn't feeling good would you sit with me in the park and put your arm on my shoulders? Even when my eyes are puffy and dry? * I don't know there's a vacuum in my heart and silver worms that live inside the vacuum, ever present resilient love the lasting energy in my blood, that they feed off of. Freed some space for their babies I know it couldn't be any other way, but sometimes I resent my mother for leading me to believe this. Because my religion is based in pain, my suffering will cleanse my sins and if you don't know then you must be unclean, I got to tell you how I see it. Everyone is looking at me Cause there's maggots in my heart, I can feel them squirming around, I can feel the top shell of muscle straining to get ahead of them to get on top of them, maggots squirming around in my heart, eating my muscles. My mind is unfocused. All I can see is misery. But its okay. The lord wants me to be this way. With a red-skinned entity hanging onto my shoulders and telling me "no, don't go there, you dog". Maggots in my heart. Maggots eating my heart * September 8 2017 Dear Jonathan Hi, how are you? Its been a couple of weeks since we last met. I am pretty much still the same. Hopefully I'm going to get a job teaching kids! Maybe one day you will fall in love with me. What have you been thinking of since I last saw you?do you want to tell me? Do you think about me? Do you want to hold hands? Can I kiss you in the dark on the street? Can I kiss you in front of people? I'm trying really hard not to take things too fast. Part of me really believes you and I are the same person. I really like how you make me feel..I always think about what it would be like to fuck you again. I really want to. I think I will. But there's one thing I'm wondering. Like what kind of relationship do you want? Do you like the idea of having me around or is this like "ill see you when I see you" No it can't just be fine I have insane feelings about you I need to know. I can be fine with what you want..I just want to know I'm not gonna hurt myself falling for you when I don't need to. If I'm just living on the promise of what I think you and I could be, I need to know if I'm right, right? Oh shit this doesn't sound good I'm spiraling into a panic. Oh god. Just tell me if you want to be with me!! Sorry I kind of get these intense insecurities. Then I like to wallow in them. Love me? Hah. To not end this letter on a sad desperate note, I will say the following: I like how you look I think you are very handsome, I like how you sing and play even when you lose your focus you sound amazing to me, I want to kiss you all over be naked with you and have my chest against yours, and feel your arms. I hope you don't mind me saying I love you and that I have a lot of love for you in my heart because I am insatiably attracted to you, and I also think you are kind but distant, and I think you are very loving and radical in your ideology, but you aren't annoying and liberal and show-offy about it. I like how much you know about music and music history, I think you are really smart. I want to kiss you all over. I feel so passionate when I think about you. It feels like you live in my heart and that's why I love you. I really really want to tell you. I don't know what could happen I just need to fuck you. I want you so badly, body and soul and mind. * August 9 Honey I want to marry you I love your sweet and bitter tastes Even on your sour days You make me believe That all my desires can be mine And I know my heart is true When I'm near you Yes I may have immense pools of jealousy, but honey, its nothing to me, when you bring me back home In a sentimental way, I say, oooooohhh you're too good for me The way we play together Like in our youth I feel like our life is a union, oh know honey I want to be true to only you We spend our days rushing around But I dream of a night where, without a sound I can slip into bed next to you, and you will hold me close, you're then the only other person I need to know, you're my everything Oh my honey I love you, you know I do, I would spend my days working for you, because I do love all the things you do And at night when the moods right, ill look into your eyes and say my sweetie, you know I love you.

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sinsiriuslyemo · 8 years ago

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And here is episode 18!! Thank you guys so much again for not only being patient, but also for reading and all the love you send us!!! We love you too!

EPISODE 18

When you got home, Eddie hurried over to you, even during a fight, he loved you.

“Tia I heard you were in the hospital,” he frowned and hugged you tightly. “Are you okay?”

You hugged back tightly, “hi baby, yeah I'm fine, just a little problem with the baby. Nothing big.”

“Surprised you care,” Nevada mumbled softly, walking past the two of you, and going into the kitchen to make you a sandwich.

You frowned, “he's just cranky,” you kissed his face and hugged him before heading to the kitchen as well. “Papi, he's just a kid,” you rub his shoulders, kissing the back of his neck.

“Hm,” Nevada huffed, piling the bread with lechon that your mom had brought over when she’d been here. “Not according to him, he’s not,” he replied.

“I know papi,” you sigh and kiss over his skin, already a little horny. “He loves you so much, he's just a stubborn teenager.”

“He’s been treating my house like it’s a fucking hotel room, and he’s been mouthing off to both of us,” he reminded you.

“Maybe we should have him go to that youth group Izzy volunteered at,” you smiled and pressed yourself against his back, kissing along his neck and sucking on the spot below his ear.

“Oye…” He looked back at you. “No, you heard the doctor,” he added in a warning tone, putting your sandwich on a plate. “I don’t want him to have another place that he can bring little tortillas in and out of. At least here, we know how many he has at a time. I nailed his window shut, there won’t be anymore sneaking around in this house.”

You nod and massage his shoulders, “mi amor, you're so tense,” you say softly. “How about we head to bed early tonight? We turn on a movie and we just have a nice night, yeah?”

“Sit down and eat first,” he replied, bringing the plate to the kitchen table and setting it down. “Vamos,” he said, gesturing to the chair.

“I'm really not hungry baby,” you frown at the sandwich. You hadn't had morning sickness yet and you didn't wanna push it.

“Chica, I just made you this bomb ass sandwich, and you don’t want it? Cono, mi amor you’re killing me,” he said in a chuckle. “OYE EDDIE! QUIERES UN SANDWICH?” he yelled towards the stairs.

Eddie walked downstairs and looked at Nevada skeptically. “What did you do to it…?”

“Nada chico. I made it for your tia, pero she doesn’t want it. It’s lechon. You’re favorite,” Nevada replied.

Eddie looked at the sandwich for a long moment before grabbing it, “thank you…” He said softly, then kissing your cheek he smiled, “I'm glad you're okay Tia.”

“You’re welcome,” Nevada mumbled. “Bring your plate back down if you’re gonna eat it upstairs, por favor. I don’t want any fucking roaches in here.”

Eddie didn't respond, but he'd heard.

“He won't bring that plate back down,” you giggled. “I'll get it in the morning.”

You stand up and head to the sink to start doing the dishes from the night before. Nevada came up behind you, taking your hands and holding them in his as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Just put them in the dishwasher, Dama,” he mumbled against your neck. “Or leave them there, and I’ll wash them. You should be laying down.”

“I'm fine, if I just lay down, I'll worry,” you wrap your arms around his neck and give him a long kiss. “I want to keep this baby, I want to give you your son,” you mumble.

“You will,” he replied with a smirk. “I’m not worried.” He wasn’t being entirely truthful, and he still had yet to tell you about Melody approaching him in the park, but the last thing he wanted to give you any more reasons to worry.

You nodded and kissed him. “Are you happy I'm pregnant?” You asked softly. You'd been wondering this for a week or so now. “When I told you...you seemed so uninterested…I don't want to be one of those women who traps their husband into another baby.”

“I seem uninterested?” he asked, almost offended that you were even implying that he wasn’t interested. He’d been doing almost everything he’d done for you when you were pregnant with Lily, save for the night he spent in jail. “How’s that?”

“Well that's the wrong word...when I told you...you just didn't seem happy,” you mumbled. “I dunno, maybe it's the hormones.”

“Cono, pero oye, what? You want me to do fucking cartwheels around the house?” he asked. “Yeah, I’m happy,” he added, shrugging one shoulder slightly.

Your bottom lip trembled as you looked at him, already sniffling.

“Ay dios mio,” he groaned softly, sighing as he looked back at you. “Yeah, mami, I’m happy! Mira la heta que tengo.” He grinned widely.

You sob, loudly, sniffling.

“Tia?” Eddie hurried down when he heard the crying. He frowned and hugged you. “What's wrong?”

“She said it was the hormones,” Nevada replied, shrugging. “Mami, I am happy. Of course I’m happy.”

“Tia, calmete,” he said softly and smiled hugging you tight. “Do you wanna come help me with my math homework?”

You sniffled and looked at him, “what kind of math?”

“Calculus,” he said, as though it was a very tempting offer.

You nod, “yeah, I wanna help…”

Eddie chuckled and nodded, “alright, come on, we can do my homework.”

“Unbelievable,” Nevada mumbled to himself, moving to do the dishes while you helped Eddie with his homework.

The plane landed in New York at 8:00am the next morning.

“Ready Cap?” Amber smirked. “You're mom is gonna lose it when she sees you.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Troy mused as he followed Amber out of the airport with their duffels in tow. “Hey, thanks for letting me crash with you until my mom gets back from her cruise,” he added.

She smiled, “anytime.” When she saw Omar, she dropped her bags, running right into his arms, holding him tight and smiling. He held her just as tight, dropping a kiss on her mouth and forehead.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he mumbled before looking up at the man behind you. “Hey, Omar,” he said, holding out a hand towards him.

“Troy Madison, good to meet you,” Troy replied, shaking Omar’s hand firmly.

“Omar, this is my captain. We've known each other for...what? Seven or eight years now?” She smiled and then went back to holding tight to Omar. She'd missed the way he felt in her arms.

She kissed him once more, arms wrapped around his neck, it felt like it had been years since she'd seen him. Even if it had only been one week. “I love you,” she said softly.

“Me too,” he mumbled back, looking back up to the Captain and gesturing to the SUV with his head. “Put your stuff in the trunk for you?” he asked.

“Oh, I can get it. You two have your moment,” Troy replied, smiling and grabbing Amber’s bag as well as he made his way to the hatchback of the SUV.

“You miss Ollie?” Omar asked her with a playful smirk.

“Shut up and kiss me,” she whispered and grinned against his lips. “Some people just aren't meant to have kids.” She shrugged and kissed him. “It's whatever.”

“Oye, what? You have to give one kid up, and all of sudden you’re not meant to have kids?” he asked in a chuckle, kissing her again. “Jesus, what did you catch the baby fever or something?”

“I don't know...I'm in my thirties, I wanna settle down. I need to start being realistic. Who's gonna give a kid to an unmarried couple. One is a strip club bouncer and a gang member, the other is a freelance journalist who has several past problems with the law...no one's ever gonna give a baby to us,” she shrugs. “But I have you,” she said softly. “And you're more than enough.”

“You’re giving me mixed signals here,” he replied, shaking his head lightly. “Pero, let’s talk about it later, I don’t wanna be rude to this guy. He’s over there standing around like an idiot to not interrupt us,” he added, tilting his head towards Troy, who was still standing by the back of the SUV, messing with his phone.

Amber walked over and smiled, nodding to Troy. “Come on, I have to stop by a friend's place. You'll love them. Or maybe you won't. Nevada's kind of a dick.” She shrugged and hopped into the car, lacing her fingers with Omar's as they drove.

When they pulled up to the apartments, you were already standing out front with a welcome home banner. Your multicolored dress looked like a gorgeous watercolor pattern. It was the dress Amber had given you years ago.

Amber runs out and the two of you embrace for what feels like hours.

“I'm so glad you're home,” you whispered.

“Me too,” she replied, hugging you tightly and rocking you back and forth. “Oh shit! Barbie, I want you to meet Captain Troy Madison,” she added in a chuckle, pulling away from you and stepping to one side.

“Ma’am, it’s a pleasure,” Troy said, gently taking your hand and shaking it as he smiled at you.

“Wow.” You look him over. He's a tall man, sandy blonde hair cut in a short military style and about a days worth of stubble on his face. “It's nice to eat you-I mean meet you! I don't wanna eat you. Not that you wouldn't be delicious...I'm sure you taste fine.”

Amber grinned, watching the train wreck go down. Troy chuckled softly, nodding his head.

“I’m not sure ma’am, I’ve never tasted myself,” he replied. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Woods here is always talking about you so, it’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”

“Please, call me Dama, ma’am is my mother...no that's not..um…”

“Oh honey…” Amber patted your back slowly pushing you towards the elevator as she gestured for them to follow.

“Troy, don't make her talk too much. Four years of marriage and she's completely forgotten how to talk to handsome men.”

Troy chuckled softly, following you and Amber to the elevator alongside Omar, who looked over at him and rolled his eyes with a smirk.

“Women, right?” he mumbled, earning another soft laugh from Troy.

“Oye, mami! My balls don’t have any bruises, gracias a dios! I thought for sure I was gonna have a pair of black and blue boys.” Nevada’s voice sounded through the apartment as soon as he’d heard the door open and he came down the stairs in his jeans, buttoning his shirt as he made the descent down to the first floor of the apartment.

“That...would be my husband,” you flush with embarrassment as you gesture to the couch. “Have a seat, would you all like drinks?”

“Whiskey,” Amber grinned at you. “Neat, pretty please.”

You turn to Omar and Troy, “and you boys?”

“I’ll have a water, ma--Dama. Please,” Troy replied, smiling at you.

“Water? Have a beer, bro,” Omar chimed.

“Um, okay. Sure. Thank you,” Troy said politely. You immediately disappeared into the kitchen to grab the drinks.

“Oye, y yo que?” Nevada asked, holding his hands up as he looked at you.

“You want some help with those drinks, Barbie?” Amber asked, smirking at Nevada.

“Sure, yes please,” you smiled at her.

“Oye Dama, yo quiero una fria tambien,” Nevada called out to you.

“Papi, I know what you want,” you say with a soft smile. He looked over at Omar and walked over, greeting him like he always did, a handshake that they would use to pull each other into a half hug, before he looked down at the newcomer.

“Nevada Ramirez,”He said, holding out his hand.

“Very nice to meet you, sir. Captain Troy Madison.”

“Cono, ‘Captain,’” Nevada mused. “Amber makes friends high up, huh?” he teased.

“I suppose so, sir,” Troy replied with a smile.

You come back out with the drinks, handing them to Nevada, Omar and Troy, then giving Amber her whiskey.

“Make yourself at home Troy,” you say with a soft smile. Your hormones were a swirl of horny confusion right now, staying away from sex is killing you.

“Thank you,” he answered, moving to sit on the couch as Nevada took a seat in his favorite chair, while Omar and Amber sat on the couch on Troy’s left.

“Well, so what’s been going on? I feel like I’ve missed so much from what Omar’s told me,” Amber mused, taking a sip from her whiskey.

“Such a gossip,” you giggled, looking at Omar. “Do you wanna know about the psycho stripper, Nevada's evening in jail or Nevada ripping the door off the hinges in Eddie's room?” You rubbed your temples.

“I think the last two stories are the best ones,” Nevada chimed, drinking from his beer. “And technically, I kicked the door down...it fell off the hinges.”

“You kicked Eddie’s door off the hinges, why?” Amber asked, before she leaned a little towards Troy. “Eddie is Nevada’s nephew, but he’s lived with Barbie and Nevada since he was, like twelve. He’s sixteen now, and a terror,” she said softly, quickly filling him in.

“Because he is on girl number three this week, I walk in on him and a girl and he yelled at me for not knocking,” you laugh softly in disbelief.

Amber smiled at Omar softly. “See? There's benefits to not having kids.”

“I still think you'd love having kids Amber.” You tease softly. Omar when are you gonna put a baby in this one?” You smile and Amber laughed, but her hand clenched against Omar's.

“Not all of us need to breed like rabbits,” she teased.

“I might get a vasectomy after this next one pops out,” Nevada mused, taking another small sip from his beer. He talked a big game about getting a vasectomy, but in reality he doubted he would be able to go through with it.

“You're pregnant?” Amber whispered, looking at you.

You smile and nod, hand moving to your stomach. “Yeah...I am,” you smile as you watch Amber get up and hurry over to hug you tight.

“That's amazing! Barbie I am so happy for you!”

You hugged back, smiling.

When Amber let go, she glanced at her phone. “Shit, I missed a call from my boss, I'm gonna step outside and return it,” she hugs you tight one more time before she grabbed her phone and headed out front.

You sit back down smiling a bit. “How long are you gonna be in New York, Troy?”

“Just a few weeks, ma’am. I came to surprise my mom, but I hadn’t planned on her being on one of her cruises until next week,” Troy replied, shaking his head a little when he realized he’d called you ‘ma’am’ again. It was just habit for him. “I’m sorry, Dama,” he corrected.

“You can call me anything you want Troy,” you blurt out before you think. Nevada arched a brow at you. “I'm sorry, that came out weird. I just mean that you can say whatever you feel okay with...I don't mind. You're so sweet calling everyone sir and ma'am, like a hunky dear john soldier, not that I'm objectifying your job...you're a soldier who just happens to be gorgeous….” You point to your husband. “I'm married.” You announce, cheeks bright red.

“Are you?” Nevada asked sarcastically, brow still arched as he watched you swoon over the soldier.

“Hey! When you have this many hormones pumping through your body and you can't have sex, you can judge me. Until then, can it. It's like being a diabetic and seeing a Popsicle that you really wanna lick.” Nevada’s brows shot up as he turned towards you a little. You seem to process your words, standing up. “I'm gonna let myself out now…”

Troy cleared his throat, a little uneasily as you walked back into the kitchen, leaving him alone with Omar and your husband.

“Well, it’s been awhile since I’ve been back in the city. I’m excited to get to walk around a bit, see how much it’s changed since I was last here,” Troy offered, looking between the men. He hadn’t taken a sip from his beer yet, but as Nevada stared him down, he brought the bottle up to his lips and took a long gulp.

You come back out, a glass of wine in hand as you sit back down, “I'm not drinking it, I'm using it to think about my mistakes in life...like the last five sentences I said to you, I'm really sorry. You were talking about your mom right? Are you two close?”

“Uh, yes ma’am, I’m her only boy. I have two older sisters, but they always say I’m mom’s favorite. I don’t think so, but…” He was going to call you Dama, but thought better of it in the last five minutes. “We’re all very close though,” he added.

You nod with a smile, “a close family is nice to have, my mom and my brother and I are all close as well,” you watched Amber come back in, sitting beside Omar and taking his hand tight in hers.

“I actually have to head home and send some stuff over to my boss, so we have to get going in a second.”

You frown but nod, “come by tomorrow, the kids missed you.”

You stand and hug Amber and Omar tight as they get up to leave. Turning and shaking Troy's hand, “it's nice to meet you, I hope your mom is very excited when she sees you.”

“Thank you very much, I hope so too,” he said, gently shaking your hand before he offered his hand to Nevada. “Very nice to meet you as well sir.”

“Mhm,” Nevada replied, shaking Troy’s hand briefly.

“Okay, let’s go!” Amber said.

“Jefe, I’ll be at the club at two,” Omar said, looking back at Nevada, who nodded his head.

“That’s fine,” he replied, waiting until they left to look at you again. “Hunky, Dear John soldier?”

You cover your face with your hands, “that was humiliating. Oh my god.” You groan. “I couldn't help it, I just had the urge to...touch him. My hormones are crazy baby, and look at him. Coño.”

“Mhm,” he replied, arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t want to look at him,” he added, beginning to walk away. “Hormones ni un carajo,” he mumbled.

“Come on! My lady parts are spending the next week untouched! I can't help it! I'm horny!”

“Then flick your bean or something, don’t start drooling over some pretty boy soldier with a picture perfect family, con el ‘no ma’am,’ ‘yes ma’am’ bullshit of his,” he replied.

“He was nice,” you sigh and walk over to Nevada. “Papi, you know who I belong to,” you say softly. “Every part of me.”

“You better,” he answered softly. “I’m not ever dressing up like a soldier after that, just to make that clear,” he added, kissing your forehead.

#nevada ramirez #rafael barba #trouble in the heights #law and order svu #cuba v dr

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