#haven’t slept more than 3 or 4 hours a night this week for no reason other than i’m not tired and don’t feel like going to bed

[gayleafpool]

going thru another one of my i don’t need sleep phases

[the-mess-of-a-dreamerrr]

The week of a dreamer...

Sunday

Today was a pretty casual day. I got to sleep-in-ish (till 7, thank you Mac) and then I read a little bit that morning before I started making everyone brunch. I made cheese eggs, chicken sausage, protein smoothies, half a bagel for everyone, and some fruit. It was delicious. After this Raina and I went to Trader Joes. Raina is absolutely obsessed. Whenever she comes she always has to make a trip and ends up with an entire car full of groceries. Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate trader joes…I just think they are a bit over hyped? She is always in shock that I live in Birmingham and yet never go. To me, it's just trendy. After this we go to the gym. Her and I do very different workouts so the entire hour we were there we were on opposite sides of the gym. I do a mix between cardio and floor stuff and she just does floor stuff. I was pretty proud of myself for making it through 30 minutes on the stair stepper again. Once we finish up we go across the street to pick up my laptop and show her my office. I always find it awkward showing someone my office. I never really know what seems interesting to an outsider to show them???? We were there a solid 3 minutes before we ended up driving home. 

The rest of the time all Raina wanted to do was watch Wednesday and other dark TV shows. She was also on her phone 100% of the time but yet still didn’t want me to change the television to something I wanted to watch or let me read my book. I was pretty annoyed. Especially because I was getting to a really juicy part of my book and I’m not really a monster and vampire kind of person. Anywhooooo Spencer got the phone call about him becoming Night Shift Manager which was both exciting and bitter sweet. This is 100% of what we had been praying for ever since they offered him the job and then retracted his offer back in October. They invited him to dinner that night to go over the job role and officially sign acceptance documents. This is amazing because of multiple reasons:

He is skipping like 2 job positions between his current role and night shift manager which is HUGE that they see his leadership ability and hardwork

He will have PTO time!!! Only one week, but thats better than nothing. 

401k

A pretty beautiful pay increase

Only has to work 2 saturdays a month rather than every saturday

Since his store has been remodeled he only has been able to work about ½ the hours he normally does and is only getting paid a small portion at whatever chickfila he works since he is just a floater for the time being. So basically I have been the sole financial giver since November. We haven’t been hurting financially but we definitely haven't been able to live like we are used to and have had a lot of big price items (mac’s surgery, fence, HOA annual fee, allergy annual fee) all at once so it's been very stressful and anxiety ridden for me so I am excited to finally start working towards some of our savings goals again rather than just surviving. 

Now the down side:

The name is night shift which means our schedules will be exactly the opposite and I won’t really get to see him in the evening. 11am-7pm (2 days), and 2pm-10pm (2 nights), and food truck 8am-8pm(1 day). We’ve done these hours before when we first got married when he worked for Enterprise in Mobile so I know it’ll be fine. I just remember it sucking a whole lot and me being sad and lonely.

That's it. It's just that one thing. He probably is actually excited that he doesn’t have to go to work at 4:30 am everyday but I am being a baby about it. 

Anyways, after this news I tried talking Raina into watching something more upbeat like a comedy show or a romcom…she told me single people don't watch Rom Coms and I would like to state that is a silly excuse not to watch funny movies. But overall I was just glad that I had Raina there and that her phone habits made it to where I could still talk to you throughout the night.

Monday

I slept in slightly later than I normally would but I heard Raina getting up at 8 so decided to go ahead and get out of bed to make her breakfast. Raina stayed only a couple of hours after then left to go back to Auburn. Spencer had work this morning so I had a couple of hours to myself. I decided to go workout again and do some back-up grocery shopping. Spencer had gone on Saturday but missed about 5 things that we needed. When I got back I started on the laundry, cleaned out the garage (SO MANY SPIDERS), and washed the inside and outside of my car which took a lifetime. I was running around nonstop till about 6. That's when I finished my last load of laundry and put everything up. I am as shocked as everyone else that it is now 3 weeks into the month and I’ve done this well with my new years resolution. 

There was a time span between 6-and 7:30 when I started messaging back to you that I was with Spencer. This time slot has a lot of emotions built into it that was spilled over from what happened on Thursday. I am going to leave this section blank.

I really liked this night of messaging you. I saw a very confident side of you that I am not used to seeing. 

Tuesday

Basically a Monday for me and was filled with playing catch up from last week and all the emails from over the weekend. Although, I had a pretty good handle on everything and even got to -shocker- be able to take a lunch break. 

I am glad I was by my phone though to be able to see your message. Which is pretty unusual because most of the time I don’t even look at my phone until it's almost time to go home. To say I was shocked is an understatement. I don’t know why but I feel like the past couple of weeks the world is just trying to tear down a lot of the progress that you’ve made. This past year I have been so proud of the way you have handled everything. You have given yourself grace and the time to mourn past hopes/dreams while also chasing new ones. You’ve stayed focused on your goals and have continued showing up for yourself. I just want to remind you that I see you. I see all the mountains you’ve climbed. I see the effort that you’ve given. And I see the hurt that you are treading through on a daily basis. I see you and think about how strong of a man you are. That you should be proud of yourself for this past year that you’ve had and not let whatever is going on in Anna’s life or her family get in the way of your happiness today. 

I was so excited that I found my old questions in my notes app. I think you needed some good questions after the past weeks you’ve had. I think it is absolutely W I L D you said 15 owls. I am going to be asking my entire branch this question in my morning meeting. 

Wednesday

Today I had a lot on my docket..renew Notary, 3 coaching sessions with associates, 1 customer appointment, and then branch manager meeting all afternoon, and dinner with Susan. I actually really enjoy days like this because it's almost a competition with myself to see if I can successfully complete everything on my list. In college this was a daily thing with all of my classes, jobs, and activities and I miss the euphoria that I would get at the end of the day knowing that against all odds I could do more than I thought I was capable of. I was so excited to wake up and start listening to a new episode of your podcast. I was happy to see that it wasn't super long so I knew even with my crazy day the odds of me being able to listen to its entirety was good. I had to drive to Columbiana today since when you get a notary you have to go to probate court to request it in the county that you live in. Even though I work in Jefferson County I live in Shelby. I find it very odd that probate court is in Columbiana of all places. It is kinda surrounded by nothing but an absolutely gorgeous town. Their court building is also insanely gorgeous. 

By the time I had made it there that morning I had finished the finale episode. I enjoyed that we kinda just landed in the middle of the action again and that your character was very witty in his sleep darts idea which set everything up for success. I will admit I had to rewind and listen to a couple of spots multiple times because I am a visual learner and it was hard for me to imagine in my head what was happening so I did that like 3 times until I felt satisfied with the mental picture in my head that yall’s words had created. At first I was a little disappointed in yall breaking it up into 3 parts and making me wait (no reason really other than I am impatient), but I think it was best because we got a taste of everything in the finale. It gave us a little bit of action but enough time to wrap the story up and start to say our goodbyes to the characters for the time being. Once it ended I had peace about where everything ended up and was excited to find out whatever yall come up with the emblem storyline to continue it. I think the marvel-like teaser at the end was genius for whoever decided on that. 

By the time I walked back in the door I didn’t even have a chance to sit down before I had not one, not two, but three associates standing in my office waiting for me to do something for them. I love feeling needed but sometimes I have to curb my disappointment/annoyance that even after all this time they still rely on me so much. And honestly, most of it is their laziness because they know that I know the answer but don’t want to take the time to look it up or they want to pass it off to me because they are again too lazy to do it themselves. Well, I was proud of myself because I got up and said look at the schedule, if you are not the associate on it then I need you out of my office and to respect my time and your co-workers time that I have set aside to help them in their career. They were all upset, but you know what happened? The world moved on and they did what they could've been doing for themselves all along. I think my biggest annoyance is these are all people that question my right to be in my position but have been at Regions the same amount of time. I don’t know how to get them to see that I am not special nor do I have any special talent to have the success that I do now. I just did my job and used the tools that I had to learn as much as possible which they too have access to. ANyway. I’ll step off of my soap box. Buuuuttt… then I had 3 GREAT coaching sessions. My favorite part of my job is these coaching appointments. Because I love seeing someone take a skill that they have been struggling with and overcoming it. It literally fills me with so much joy. Because they come in with self doubt and leave with a new sense of purpose and confidence and I wish someone could wrap that feeling up in a bottle so that I could experience it whenever I am having a bad day. 

2 of them were annual reviews(called RPM)/coaching and one was just coaching. I was really nervous about two of the annual reviews because this year Region’s did something different and had the associates “self rate” themselves in the 4 categories so that when I did my review we can have a discussion on if they didn’t align. We have 4 categories, and each one we rank either ineffective, developing (only for new people), Proficiencent, advanced, and Role model. Well, these two had ranked themselves as role model or advanced when in reality they were only reaching goals in about half of the categories. So I was worried that they were going to be very upset. But in my reviews i try to talk about their strengths, the good things they did in the year and where they stood out, their areas of opportunity and how they can leverage their strengths to be successful in those areas, and then based on their career path tell them where they could be if they were successful in all categories. And I think that how I presented it to them actually got them excited to start on their area of opportunities and we made a career map for the year to track their progress and worked on a couple of those skills in the meantime. It was a BLAST. 

So I was on cloud nine except….I had lost track of time and had been supposed to leave for my manager meeting at the corporate offices like 30 minutes ago. So I headed up my chili soup I had in the fridge and pretended I was in mario kart and made it to the building with one minute to spare. I also learned eating soup while driving should be an olympic sport lol. I was happy to see that I was not the only one running behind and walked in with 2 other managers to the security desk. Turns out our names were not on the list and we had to call my area manager to let us in the building. We pretended we had been there a while so we wouldn't get in trouble for being late lol. The meeting was like any old meeting except for some fun dynamics. So my manager is not very subtle about his aggression. He had visited a branch that morning and was grilling the branch manager the entire afternoon. On multiple occasions he put the numbers up for the branch on the giant projector to show what you SHOULDNt be doing and what not to look like. And to make matters worse on the reverse he was putting my branch numbers up to show what to do to reach goals. He does a terrible job with encouragement and basically just made everyone fearful of being publicly shamed if they had a bad week. I also was getting nervous because I too had a branch visit the very next day. We also learned in this meeting that my area manager does one on one’s with his wife every two weeks for them to sit down and go over areas of opportunity and even have a joint one note on their phone so that he can keep track of what his wife is doing to improve…..have zero ideas how his wife has been married to him for 14 years. 

After this I had dinner at my favorite mexican restaurant with my old assistant manager Susie who I can only describe as a firecracker. I know that everytime I go anywhere with her she is going to embarrass me so I just prepare for a lot of awkward stares. Sure enough when she walks in she loudly screams “ where is my hot date?! I am meeting with the hottest chick in town” and everyone turns and she looks at me and dances to the booth. I kid you not that is exactly as it played out. She keeps me humble. She tells me about her new guy and I am in full shock. She met him on facebook dating in September and he makes 480k a year and owns multiple moving companies, storage units, commercial properties, etc. The amount of diamonds she was wearing that he had given her was enough to make me stop breathing. She also was wearing the Rolex he got her for christmas. She showed me the pictures of how he had remodeled her house while she was away in Washington visiting family and the roses that he had bought her for her birthday. She said they would have 2 weddings. One here and one at the top of a mountain in Washington state and of course I was invited to both. She said she is going to keep working up until the wedding but after that was going to quit her job since he wanted to take her traveling around the world and he didn’t think it was right for a woman to work when he had plenty.I was excited for her but also nervous. This guy sounds too good to be true, but that may just be the pessimist in me. I also get nervous because I know of her story with her past husband who so terribly abused her in the most awful ways and I am just fearful of her getting into a situation with another man that has all the power again. But I knew she didn’t want to hear this just yet and made plans with her to go hiking in the next couple of months so that we could talk more. With these things you have to be very careful of how you present them. 

She also asked me why I wasn’t pregnant yet. And then proceeded to tell me what works for horses (yes, you read that right) when they are getting pregnant and what I needed to start doing because if it works for them it’ll work for me. She proceeded to go down this tangent very loudly until the waiter had to come up and say that another table that had kids had complained because of the graphic nature of the conversation. She is still keeping me humble. She said a lot of other stuff on the subject. This is my least favorite thing to talk to another female about. And one that I knew I would struggle with. But knowing that this would be a pressure point hasn’t made experiencing it any easier. Susie is very much not aware because I think I was about a minute away from bursting into tears. 

After dinner I felt very inferior, a lot of shame, and add on top of that bloating from the queso and chips and I was any second away from a full on panic attack. But instead of giving in I pulled into the gym parking lot and exercised as much of that away as I could. The drive home I turned on my ‘woman scorned” playlist and by the time I got home I was almost a normal person again. 

I was very glad to learn your surprise was questions because I needed a day not to think too hard about my life and only about what Jelly is my favorite. It made me laugh whenever you found out that we actually did have a couple of the things that we were not the same on. I even got to see confident Sam again towards the end. Crazy how you can take an innocent question and turn it like that. 

Before we said goodnight I remembered the dream I had the previous night. It was about me struggling to juggle you, my life, and spencer. In it I felt like I was being pulled in a million different directions and had woken up right before someone was about to see my phone with messages to you in it. I went to bed thinking about it knowing fully well why my dreams had landed on that topic. I couldn’t get to sleep after that. I decided to power through and finish my book. And I am sad to say that I was right. The woman was to be the next victim and it was the guy I thought it was (the detective). It was too convenient for it to be the boyfriend or the neighbors. But she did survive before he was able to chop off her head and the detective was actually killed by his own mother. 

Thursday

Another day with a full schedule. 

The day started out with a Vestavia Hills Chamber of Commerce breakfast meeting to honor the Trustees. I was selected again this year and had to be in attendance. During this we also had to take our headshots that would be in the magazine so I had to wake up extra early to make sure I looked good. Last year I didn’t know we were taking head shots and I swear it is the worst photo of me ever captured. To make matters worse when you google me it's one of the first ones to come up. So I had to ensure this one looked at least somewhat presentable. It was the same photographer from last year that l loathe and not just because he took the bad head shot last year. He always makes remarks that just make me incredibly uncomfortable. Like today he leaned forward and while moving my hair for the photo he said “no this is to make sure you look pretty don’t claim I’ve touched you after this! I always have to be careful nowadays....um I dare you not to feel uneasy as someone is touching you while insinuating that during this moment they could make a sexual advance on you and then saying that you would be the type of person to “falsely accuse” them of making a sexual advance on them. Like…why even go there?!?

Anywho…after that I have two more ROCK star coaching sessions and an appointment with my favorite elderly customer. I helped her set up an email address for the first time and set up her online banking and bill payments to automatically come out. A couple of months earlier a check had been stolen out of the mail and we had a discussion on the dangers of only writing checks and the benefits of online banking and she had told me she would only do it with my help. She was absolutely precious and had 3 long notebook papers filled with lists of questions that were even more adorable. Some of them were questions like “can I have an email address if I own a cell phone,” “what is a mobile phone app,” and “what is the difference between online banking and mobile banking.” You would have thought I had shown her that she had won a million dollars when she found out she could see images of the checks she had written on the account overview on online banking. She is so wholesome and I am absolutely obsessed with elderly people. 

After my appointment I quickly ate some Publix sushi from across the street and got back just in time for my boss to be walking in the door with his branch visit. This visit was one of my favorites because probably for the first time since I’ve been at vestavia he had a visit at my branch by himself without any exec or someone from corporate in toe. Tyler and I have our disagreements and differences but we both like being the best and he knows that I give my 110% and he doesn’t have to point out to me when I’m falling short in an area. And I'm actually in the top 100 branches in all of Regions bank so far this year. So he did probably the best thing ever and said “I know that you are a manager I don’t need to worry about so do your normal stuff and I’m going to work on my computer.” And told me to enter in my own coaching plan for my branch for what I am going to do this quarter. I said aye aye captain and didn’t ask questions. We ended up having a HUGE sales day with major successes to talk about in our evening meeting with 3 big loan apps, huge investment referrals, and a total of 13 financial reviews done in a day. I couldn’t have written a more perfect meeting for my boss to be present for. Also, I went around individually asking everyone my owl questions and turns out you are the craziest of all. I think the most anyone said was 3! 

I was going to go workout but Spencer messaged me and said he was making my favorite meal for me. So I hurried to leave work to get home. On the way home I started falling asleep while driving back. I guess hustling the past 2 days had finally caught up to me. When I got back Spencer gave me flowers and we had a really delicious meal (pork chops in the air fryer with white magic seasoning). I knew what this night meant to him. It again had a lot of emotion overflowing from last week. 

I’ll leave the next couple of hours blank. 

I was in bed by 8. My friend Ashley called me on her weekly one hour grocery run away from the kids and she shared with me some exciting news from her job and updated me on her two girls. I love talking with Ashley because I think she and I are the most alike. Her work ethic is very similar to mine and her career is very important to her. She is also one of the most intelligent and gifted people I’ve ever met and I’m very proud of her for not losing that part of herself even after having 2 kids and the mess that life brings. She even asked about you towards the end of the call and I had to cut her off because I was on speaker and Spencer was laying in the bed next to me. 

I almost messaged you goodnight just so that you knew I was thinking about you but caught myself. I know being my friend isn’t easy and a night without me is probably what you needed to refocus yourself. I try not to be a stumbling block but I know that it's hard to look to the future when your past is blowing up your phone. I checked my messages maybe 25 times today. Both hoping to see your name and knowing that not seeing your name was a good thing for you. 

There are a lot of hard things that come with our situation. I can think of 3 that have been screaming at me this week. 

Friday

I woke up about 2 am feeling awful. I got up, took a lot of medication and tried to go back to sleep. By the time I woke up I realized that I was full blown sick. But, because of me having packed schedules the past 2 days and it being a short weekend I still had work to do. So I got ready and went into work and locked myself in my office and told the branch to enter at your own risk. I was working till I finished my urgent to-do list and the rest could wait till Monday. I worked till 12 then came home. I felt terrible because I was supposed to work tomorrow but Tatsiana volunteered to take my shift. I think I hate asking people for favors more than I hate Auburn football.

By the time I got home I saw the message from you and smiled. I was going to nap but I figured that the only thing that was going to make me feel better was typing this up for you. This letter isn’t as amazing as yours because there is a lot of stuff that’s is off limits (refer back to part 2 on my blog), but I wanted to surprise you with something for a change. You always tell me I deserve a million letters but I think you got it wrong. You deserve a million and one. Even if they aren’t from me. 

January 20, 2023

-MV

[eternally-writing]

do you still care? | myg

genre: fluff and angst

rating: G (no swearing or sexual content)

pairing: yoongi x reader

theme: idol!au, boyfriend!au, one-shot

word count: 1.5k

warnings: none? 

synopsis: After waiting months for Yoongi to come back from tour, your reunion doesn’t quite go as planned. 

Today was the day. You had been staring at your phone for what seemed like eternity waiting for your boyfriend, Yoongi, to send you a text saying he had finally landed in Seoul.

BTS's world tour had finished at the perfect time - you had just finished your university exams and although you had slept so little in the past weeks because of you had been studying for hours on end, you were overflowing with excitement to see your boyfriend again.

A world tour for Yoongi meant that he had a hectic schedule of tours, rehearsals, appearances, and photo shoots, while a rigorous university program for you meant that you had assignments, interviews, and exams to complete. Even though you had been texting Yoongi as much as you could, you were often left with short responses and very little love from your boyfriend.

You and Yoongi never had a typical relationship - dating one of the world's biggest superstars did come at a price. You’re unfortunately not the only one who loves Yoongi, and you have to constantly share your favorite guy in the world with millions of ARMY's, and of course his group mates as well.

Dating a member of a group meant that you weren’t just taking care of Yoongi, but also 6 other single boys who never quite clean up after themselves. You had been wishing for weeks that one of them would finally show up to the apartment with a girlfriend just so that you’d have another female to talk to.

You felt your phone vibrate on the table and immediately jumped to open your messages. Surprisingly, it was a text from Taehyung, not Yoongi, that read " Y/N! We just landed back at Incheon. So excited to see you soon!".

As much as you were excited to hear from Taehyung, one of your best friends from the group, you still stared longingly at your phone wondering why Yoongi hasn't texted. You’ve never felt good enough to be dating an idol - and every indication of Yoongi being distant made you shiver at the thought of him getting bored with you.

Much to your delight, your phone started buzzing and read "Incoming Call - Yoongi oppa". The honorifics have always been a bit of a joke between the two of you - though Yoongi was older than you, he found it funny that you came from abroad to Korea and were going to use honorifics for the first time for your boyfriend. Instead you were "his Y/N" and he was "your Yoongi" and that's how you did things your own way.

The sound of Yoongi's voice saying your name as you picked up the phone was music to your ears. "Dinner tonight?" he asked, and you could tell exactly the kind of smile he had one his face as you heard his voice through the phone.

Before you could answer, you heard 3 other very familiar voices chime through the phone "Y/N! We missed you!" that most definitely belong to your 3 other closest friends in the group - Taehyung, Jin, and Jimin. "Hyung did you say dinner with Y/N - we're in!" - and before either of you could protest, Yoongi’s romantic reunion dinner with you had turned into a possible takeout food fiasco at your apartment with 4 rowdy Bangtan boys.

Thankfully, although Yoongi could not convince the boys to give him some alone time with his girlfriend, he did manage to convince them to dress up and come to the gorgeous restaurant he had planned to take you to all along rather than just sit in your apartment in sweatpants eating pizza.

Being the first day in 4 months that you were going to see your boyfriend, you planned to wear a gorgeous dress and had spent almost half a day perfecting your makeup and hair. Soon enough, 6:30pm had come and Yoongi was outside Min's door looking as handsome as ever. Making your way down to the car, you were overjoyed to see your best friends and sat in the back seat beside Taehyung and Jimin as Jin was up front with Yoongi driving.

The drive to the restaurant was filled with lots of laughs, funny stories from touring, and lots of funny jokes from Jimin and Taehyung. Being the same age as them, you naturally felt connected to them when you first met the group.

However one person seemed to be more quiet than the others in the car - Yoongi.

You hardly took note of this as your friends captured your attention constantly, but the oldest kept his attention focused on the road and didn't contribute much to the conversation. But from your perspective, the dinner went off without a hitch at the restaurant and everyone had a great time.

Finally driving home after a filling and happy meal, you were not ready to say goodbye to your friends - you knew you had missed Yoongi, but you didn't realize how much you had missed them as well.

It was only as the car pulled up into Jin's driveway that you first took note of Yoongi's out of character behaviour. Seeing how the other members were not reacting to Yoongi's silence, you wondered if he had just become a more focused, responsible driver in the past 4 months and that this was normal for him - you failed to realize that the real reason for his silence could be you.

Finally dropping off Jimin and Taehyung, you hugged them both tightly and made plans for a movie night as they walked back into their apartment. You then looked at your boyfriend staring straight ahead at the empty road in front of him. "Hey", you said softly, trying to grab Yoongi's attention.

"So now you're going to talk to me?" snapped out of Yoongi's mouth.

You were shocked. You had never imagined that he would talk to you this way - especially since this is the first time that he has seen you in 4 months.

"Wha- ", you didn't even know what to say and were frozen to your spot in the back seat.

Pulling over into a random parking lot, Yoongi put the car into park and turned around to face you in the back seat. 

"Thanks for saying all of TWO words to me tonight", said Yoongi.

This made you replay the night in your head, realizing that most of your conversation had centered around Jimin and Taehyung and you had never even looked in Yoongi's direction for most of dinner. You felt horrible for treating him this way and could not believe that you were letting their first night back together end up like this.

Taking your silence as a negative response, Yoongi followed up by saying "Do you even still care about me?"

Before you could even think about what to say, your feelings took over and "Yoongi I love you" came flying out of your mouth.

"I love you. I love you so much that my heart has been bursting trying to stop myself from saying it for so long now so I don't scare you away. I care about you so much - my love for you is watching youtube videos of you performing the same songs in every city on tour just so I can see if you're okay. My love for you is watching your interviews and seeing if you're still smiling. My love for you is seeing your photoshoot pictures just to make sure that you're eating enough and keeping yourself healthy. My love for you is looking at your dark undereye circles to make sure you're getting enough rest. All these little things that you don't see, this is what I do because I love you. I love you more than any words can say, and even though we haven't talked that much in the last 4 months, you have never left my mind and I missed you every single day. I love you Min Yoongi, and only you."

These words sent a shockwave through Yoongi’s system.

Neither of you had ever said I love you before, and for you to feel so strongly about Yoongi brought tears to his eyes.

It was now Yoongi's turn to be at a loss for words - he didn't know what else to do except climb into the backseat of his car ( he wasn’t very graceful... but he got the job done) and hold you in the tightest embrace. Tears now freely flowing down both of your cheeks, neither of you needed any words to express how much you loved each other.

Yoongi brought his lips to your ear and whispered the most gentle "I love you too, you're always gonna be my baby Y/N". In that moment, all of the tension of the earlier dinner faded away as you and Yoongi enjoyed being in each other's presence for the first time in 4 months.

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If you liked my writing please interact/follow! Thank you for reading <3 

[anwynb2003]

Um... I think I made a BatFam AU while half-asleep...

Ok so, I wake up, and it seems last night I wrote out a messy explanation of a story that I just might have to write now... but I've read literally one Batman comic (Death in the Family), and all my knowledge comes from either YouTube, Wikis, and stories on AO3...

Hyperfixation is fun, isn't it?

Anyway, here's a copy-paste of what I wrote in my half-asleep state at around 2:00 last night (note, the doc itself is simply titled "C'mon. You Know."):

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tireeeeed let’s do this

Okay so

AU: No superheroes. Bruce Wayne is just a rich dude who starts taking in orphans because reasons.

First up was Dick Grayson, who he adopted when he was 9.

7 years later, he added 13-year-old Jason Todd.

3 years later, 12-year-old Tim Drake.

2 years later, 14-year-old Cassie Cain.

And finally, 2 years after that, he learned of and gained custody of his only biological son: 10-year-old Damian Wayne.

Only a year after Damian joined the family though, Brucie boy died, presumably in a “tragic accident”, but it’s quickly revealed that someone’s altered his will, leaving his kids with none of the family’s fortune; not even their home.

Dick, who’d moved out a few years ago, now has custody of his 3 youngest siblings, and only a small, 2-bedroom house in Blüdhaven to care for them in.

Jason, who for a variety of reasons had run away at 15, and had stayed away for the most part, reluctantly agrees to move in Full House style to help Dick, while all the siblings work with their ex-butler/grandfather figure Alfred, and family-friends Jim and Babs Gordon to figure out the mystery of their father’s death and will.

Tensions run high, Dick’s having a breakdown, Jay’s struggling to Dad (verb), Tim’s gay and spiralling, Cass struggles with speech, and Dami’s emotionally stunted. Yay!

So we got:

Dick, 24-year-old officer of the BPD. Adopted at 9 years old after losing his parents in a circus act gone wrong, Dick stayed with Bruce until he was 18, when after a heated argument he left for college. He made up with his father over the next couple years and stayed in contact, often visiting him and his siblings.

Jason, 21-year-old, works part-time at a gym in Crime Alley, Gotham City. Adopted when he was 13, after several years of living on the streets after his step-mother’s death by overdose and his father’s “peace out” moment. Discovered the identity of his birth-mother, ran away to go find her because teen angst and increasing fights with Bruce, then she was found dead a week later (her ex was charged and found guilty) and while Jay couldn’t be found, much of the blood at the crime scene was his. Then, randomly, he contacted his family again 4 years later, at 19. Didn’t move back in, and things were quite tense between him and Bruce, but still hung out with his siblings outside the home (though he was angry at Tim at first, for being adopted less than a year after his “death” and "replacing" him).

Tim, 17-year-old honours student. Adopted when he was 12, but actually started hanging around the house a little before that, as Dick was tutoring him after school. This helped both Dick, and Bruce to discover how neglectful and emotionally abusive his parents were, and Bruce literally had to sue for custody for this kid. He won.

Cassie, another 17-year-old. Adopted at 14, she’d been on the streets much like Jason had, but of her own volition… to a point. She was scarred after seeing her father do… something, when she was only 8 years old (she’s repressed so hard that even she doesn’t remember exactly what), and so ran away. This thing traumatized her so much that she lost her ability to speak for years, and has only just started learning to talk again. Instead, she usually uses ASL.

And Damian, an 11-year-old ball of politeness, good manners, and pure, unadulterated rage. He was born nine-months after his mother date-raped his father, and was raised in quite an… odd way, by said mother and her father. Long and short of it: crime family, but not a close one. He rarely if ever actually saw his mother, and when he did she wasn’t overly affectionate. He spent most of his early days being groomed to be his grandfather’s heir, only for their entire organization to be captured by police when he was 10. It was now when the emotionally stunted, spoiled brat was put into his father’s custody.

Main issues:

-Dickie boy stressed ooooooouut, gotta be a breadwinner and keep his siblings together and safe

-Jaybird technically never made up with Bruce; they’d actually made plans to get together and talk things out, but then, y’know, death

-Timmy, poor thing, is balancing school, work at Wayne Enterprises, and investigating the case of his father’s death, and has seemingly forgotten what sleep is. Adding on the fact that Bruce being dead means his (granted, chosen) role as heir to the company seems much more real (even despite the fake will, he's confident he'll figure it out and find the real one), he’s not doing all that great

-Cassie, sweetheart, has been emotionally traumatized for years, and now just has more trauma to add to that with Bruce being dead. She’s getting better, but struggling

-Dami, baby bird, is filled with more rage than usual, and is endlessly worried about all the animals in his “zoo”; Alfred remains at the manor (though he has not met his new employer), for the sole purpose of making sure they stay fed, watered, bathed, and more or less cared for.

So, to sum up, Dick’s working to support them and trying his best, Jay’s Dad-ing while Dick’s at work since his hours are more flexible, Tim hasn’t slept in years, Cass needs therapy and hugs, and Damian has a growing army of stuffed animals to fill the gaping hole in his life where his zoo used to be (since he could only bring Titus and Alfred the Cat with him to Bludhaven).

Will they be able to figure out who had their father killed and get their family legacy back?

Hell if I know, I haven’t written it yet. Probably. Get off my back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, long story short, I seem to have issues, but this is happening now apparently.

Not right now though, Ima go play Minecraft.

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 4. Low Flying Stationery

Summary: Steve realises that the only way out of the seeming hole he’s dug himself into is to come clean about his feelings to Katie, only that’s easier said than done.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Language! Angst and a pair of total dumbasses in love… A/N: Once again, a huge thank you to @angrybirdcr​ for her lovely little edit.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 3

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist 

   “I went under, the world was at war, I wake up and they say we won. They didn’t say what we lost.”

“Yeah, well we’ve made some mistakes along the way. Some very recently…”

Steve woke up with a start, taking a deep breath as he blinked, coming out of his sleep addled haze. It didn’t take a genius to work out why his mind had taken him back to that particular moment in time, and it wasn’t wasted on him either that this time he was the one who had made the big assed mistake the night before…

Glancing at his clock, he decided that 5:00 am wasn’t too early, so he changed and headed out for a run, pounding his frustration out on the wet ground beneath his feet. He was so annoyed at himself for simply letting Katie walk out with no protest at all. He should have stopped her, gone after her, he realised that now.

It was official, he was the world’s biggest moron.

He knew now that the only way to salvage anything from this mess was to be honest, regardless of how she felt or didn’t feel as the case may be. So, as he thundered round past the Lincoln Memorial for the fourth time, he started to plan out exactly what he was going to say. By the time he got home an hour and a half later, and climbed into a scalding hot shower, he was feeling slightly more positive. 

He just hoped she’d hear him out.

***** After a night of tossing and turning, alternating between being angry at herself and pissed at Steve, Katie had also been up at a ridiculous time, but unlike Steve she had curled up on her sofa with a film, counting the minutes down until it was an acceptable time to call her brother.

“Seven thirty AM?” Tony drawled as he answered. “You wet the bed?”

“Fuck off” She shot back “No, just had a shitty end to yesterday and thought I’d call to hear a friendly voice. Beginning to wonder why I bothered.”

“Bad day?” Tony’s voice softened “Ok Kiddo, I’m all ears.”

“Nah don’t wanna talk about it.” Katie said, and she didn’t. There was NO WAY she was telling Tony about Steve and whatever the hell nearly went down. That was a whole shit storm she didn’t want landing at Steve’s feet. “So what’s new with you?”

“Nothing much.” Tony sniffed.

“How’s things with you and Pepper? Still behaving?”

“I’m insulted you even asked me that.”

“I know you too well.” She chuckled.

“Well, if you really wanna know they’re going great. I’m thinking of taking her out to the Island in a couple of weeks. A dirty week away…”

“Ok too much information” she grimaced as Tony’s chuckle hit her ears “You’re nasty”

“I’m in love!” He said in a sing-song voice, making Katie roll her eyes.

“I never thought I’d see the day where you love someone more than yourself.”.

“What is this, Kiddo? Insult Tony day?” He scoffed making her laugh. “I love lots of things more than myself.”

“Yeah, like what?”

“You, Pepper…” the line was silent for a few seconds before he finished “Nope, that’s it.”

Katie laughed “I’m honoured.”

“So you should be, it’s a very hard list to make.”

They talked for another half an hour about all sorts of crap, Katie simply happy to hear her brother’s voice as it had been weeks since she’s seen him, far too long in her opinion. Eventually they both had to get ready for work so after breakfast and a shower she felt a little better although her stomach was still flipping slightly at the thought of seeing Steve. He’d messaged her a few times last night but she’d completely ignored him, and was feeling a little shitty about it now, if she was honest.

But, there was nothing she could do except apologise and hopefully they could move on and in time forget it.

When she walked into the Tactical Ops Office,  Clint and Natasha were already in there, eating a pastry each, both with a coffee in hand and she was touched, as always, to see one waiting on her desk for her. But not touched enough to let Barton get away with using her desk as a foot rest.

“Get your feet down…” Katie slapped at his legs.

“Rude,” he muttered, removing them and placing his feet on the floor. “I bought you coffee.”

“Which is both appreciated and needed.” she pecked him on the cheek. “Thanks Hawkeye”

“You look like you aint slept all night.” Nat eyed Katie shrewdly as she shrugged off her coat “Who is he?”

“I should be so lucky” Katie mumbled dropping into her chair. She didn’t tell them that the reason she hadn’t slept all night was thanks to a certain blue eyed super soldier, but not because he was in bed with her, more so because he wasn’t.

“Better take a nap this afternoon then.” Clint pointed at her. “Want you on good form for the party.”

“What party?” Katie frowned.

“Rumlow’s 40th…”

She groaned. “That’s tonight?”

“Yeah.” Clint nodded, before he let out a snort as he looked over his shoulder at Nat “Now this is gonna be interesting.”

“What?” Katie frowned

“He’s referring to the fact I’ve been planning an outfit for a few days…” Nat yawned, examining her nails.

“Yeah and seeing you try and figure one out in a few hours, Nova, is gonna be amazing…”

 “Not like I’m short of options,” Katie shrugged “I mean half the shit in my closet hasn’t seen the light of day in years.”

“You can always gift it to me.” Natasha quipped back

“Speaking of gifts, has anyone done a collection for dearest Brock?” Clint looked around. “I mean it is his 40th party after all, we should probably get him something…”

 “Like what?” Nat asked.

“I dunno. What’s he into?” Clint pondered.

“I know what he’d like to get into.” Nat responded with a smirk. “Nova’s pants…”

At that Clint let out a bark of a laugh just as Steve walked through the door, expertly catching the pencil that Katie threw at the Archer.

“Beware low flying stationery.” Steve quipped as casually as he could, tossing the item onto the desk in front of Clint who leaned back in his chair, putting his feet back on the surface. Steve locked eyes with Katie for a second and he saw her take a deep, steadying breath before she looked over at Clint as he responded to Steve’s joke.

“It wasn’t flying, it was thrown.” he smirked. “Just Stark here getting a little upset about Nat’s joke.”

“I wasn’t upset, it was just a shit joke.” Katie rolled her eyes

“But it’s true, that’s what’s so funny!” Clint snorted “Admit it, you know he’s after a bit…”

“Can we just change the subject, please?” Katie groaned, turning to the keyboard on her desk. She could feel Steve’s eyes burning into her back as she tried to concentrate on the screen, ignoring him.

“You coming tonight Cap?” Clint asked

“Rumlow’s 40th?” Steve asked and Clint nodded

“Did everyone remember except me?” Katie looked round.

“Pretty much.” Nat nodded

Katie scowled.

“You’re a proper little ray of sunlight today.” Clint snorted at the expression on her face.

“I told you I’m tired.”

“Try going to bed and sleeping.” Nat quipped and this time it was a highlighter pen that flew across the room.

“Carry on and it will be a stapler.” Katie frowned. “I was alone, thank you. Unless you count my pillow.”

Steve looked down at his feet

“Was the pillow good?” Clint asked, and she glared at him, picking up the stapler as he laughed, holding his hands up.

“Anyway, Romanoff…” Steve deftly changed the subject as Katie slammed the stapler back down.  “You ready for ops drill or…”

Nat groaned and pushed her chair back across the floor with a scrape. “Slave driver…catch you later Stark”

“Yeah see ya…” Katie didn’t bother turning round.

“I’m due on the range in 10 with the new recruits so…” Clint stood up and followed Nat before he stopped and turned back, glancing over his shoulder again before he spoke.

“Listen, don’t tell Widow I asked this but what’s the dress code for tonight? I better start sorting out what I’m wearing whilst I get chance…”

Katie stopped before she turned slowly in her seat and smirked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

“You hypocrite! It’s smart casual and if you don’t want me to tell Nat, it’ll cost you a beer”

“A beer for your silence… why haven’t we done this trade before?”

“Fuck off!” she flicked him the finger as he disappeared out of the office leaving Steve and her alone.

 “Hey.” He spoke gently, testing the water “You alright?”

“Yeah” she nodded, looking up at him and he smiled, that fucking smile again and she cleared her throat. “Honestly I’m just tired.”

“You ran out on me.” he pointed out, studying her face.

“You didn’t exactly stop me Steve.” she shot back and he sighed.

“I know.” he swallowed “But you could have messaged me back.”

“Sorry, I was just…” Katie ran her hand over her face. “Actually, I don’t know what I was to be honest.”

There was a pause, a little awkward silence filling the room before Steve took a deep breath.

“Listen.” he began, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “About last night, what…well, what nearly happened. I err, I wanted to say that I-”

“It’s fine.” Katie cut him off quickly. “I get it, it was an emotional day and there was a lot for you to process and deal with. I mean, I was all over the place so I expect you were too. Guess we just…”

She trailed off and something inside Steve died a little. She’d felt sorry for him, that was the only reason they’d shared that moment.  He struggled to keep his face straight as he shrugged, looking down at his hands, all thoughts of his planned speech flying out of his head.

“We’re okay, right?” Katie looked at him, and he glanced up, smile fixed on his face.

“Sure” he nodded, hopping off the desk. “Listen, I need to…” he pointed to the door.

“Yeah, course. I have a tonne of stuff to do anyway. I wanna get home in time for a nap”

He chuckled. “So I’ll err, see you tonight?” he asked.

“Yeah, see you there.”

Katie watched him leave and as soon as he was clear of the room Katie took a shaky breath trying to stem the tears that were threatening once more to pour down her cheeks.

****** 

A wave of sound, both music and the noise of chatter hit Steve’s ears the minute he opened the door. He spotted Nat and Clint leaned against the bar and after saying hi to Rumlow and anyone else who greeted him he made his way over to the other two avengers and smiled.

“Hey Cap” Clint said, clapping him on his shoulder. “Beer?”

“Thanks Barton.”

Clint ordered his drink as Steve glanced around the room, looking for that familiar shock of brunette.

“She’s not here yet.” Nat drawled and he looked at her.

“Right.” He nodded simply, accepting the beer.

“Nice shirt” Clint grinned and Steve glanced down.

“Very modern.” Nat said,

“Romanoff,” Steve rolled his eyes. “You’re a pain in my ass…”

“She’s a pain in everyone’s ass.” Clint shrugged and Nat simply quirked an eyebrow at him as Steve gave a small chuckle, taking a slug of his beer.

“It’s one of my more endearing qualities.” she quipped.

Clint opened his mouth to say something but stopped as his eyes fell on someone and he smiled. Steve turned slightly to follow his gaze to see Katie making her way over towards them and boy, he had to stop his mouth falling open because she looked amazing. Tight black jeans, patent red heels and a sleeveless red top that plunged down her cleavage and tightened in to her waist before flaring out slightly. Her make up looked different, it was still light but she’d done something to her eye lids as they shimmered with a gold colour that made her eyes stand out even more.

Clint dropped a kiss to her cheek when she reached his side and Steve got a sudden hit of her perfume, the underlying floral tones that he associated with her, and he took a deep breath.

“About time…” Clint smiled at Katie. “We thought you had got lost.”

“Yeah, sorry I needed a nap.” she shrugged, nodding to Natasha and Steve.

“You want a drink?” Clint turned back to the bar waving at the tender.

“Yeah, I’ll have a gin thanks.”

“I like this.” Nat mused, her hand toying with the hem of her top. “New?”

“No, I dug it out from the doldrums of my closet.” she smiled, thanking Clint for the drink as he handed it to her. “I told you, I forget what’s in there sometimes.”

“Must be hard being so rich you can afford that many clothes you forget what you have.” Nat smirked, and Katie flipped her off drawing a snort from the red head.

 “Table over there.” Clint spoke, nodding over to the right. “Shall we?”

The four of them made their way over and settled into a comfortable conversation as normal, but both Katie and Steve were ridiculously aware of one another. The smells of cologne and perfume, the feel of his shirt clad arm as it brushed against hers when he moved, her laugh which rang out over the table…

It was torture for them both.

After four rounds of drinks however, Katie had started to relax a little, dare she even say enjoy herself, so it was bound to be a matter of time before something else went wrong.

And it did, in spectacular fashion.

“Who’s round is it?” Clint announced “I’m ready for some shots…”

“Mine, I think.” Katie glanced round for one of the guys who was providing table service, when someone talking to Rumlow caught her attention. Tall, short dark hair, dark denim jeans and a white shirt. To most of the people in the room, the back of that man could have been anyone. But to Katie, well, she knew instantly who it was.

And her good mood sank as fast as it had been rising.

“Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me.” She mumbled. Steve, who had felt her tense next to him, looked down at her as Natasha frowned.

“What?”

“Ward’s here…”

Clint’s hand slipped and he almost sent the remainder of his beer flying as he scanned the room, his eyes narrowing.

“Ward as in, your ex Ward?” Steve asked, feeling the heat rise in his neck. She nodded and across the table Clint started grinding his teeth in a combination of anger and irritation.

Katie watched the back of her ex’s head, and then he turned to look around the room and their eyes locked. His mouth fell open slightly before he composed himself, and turned back to talk to Rumlow, running his hand through his hair, the way he always did when he was trying to act cool.

Katie snorted and turned back to the table.

“Want me to go punch him?” Clint leaned over towards her. “Because I’d really like to.”

Steve found himself thinking that was a great idea but Katie shook her head.

“Just ignore him. I am.”

*****

After three further gin and tonics and two tequilas had worked their way through her system Katie excused herself and headed out to the bathroom. Once she was gone, Clint shook his head.

“I cannot believe that fucking prick showed up.” He growled, waiving the waiter over. “Damned it I hate him.”

“I gathered.” Steve smirked as Clint ordered another round of drinks.

“I mean…what the fuck…why is he even here?” the archer continued to rant and Nat gently laid a hand on hi arm.

“Clint, don’t you think you’re overreacting a little?” She soothed.

“You didn’t see her Nat, that night when she caught him…she was a mess.”

“So was his car.” Natasha grinned and Clint snorted.

“His car?” Steve asked.

“Yeah…” Clint gave a small laugh. “She smashed up the body work…and I left four arrows in his tyres.”

Steve felt a surge of affection the archer as he took a deep breath, looking around. There was no sign of Katie, or Ward. Something seemed a little off, like things weren’t quite right…

 “I’m gonna go check if she’s okay” he stood up, missing the glance that Natasha and Clint shared.

As it happens, Katie wasn’t ok. Nothing about walking out of the bathroom and bumping, literally, into your cheating fucker ex was ever going to be ok.

 “Hi K.” Ward said, as his hands gently grabbed round her arms steadying her, his familiar smell washed over her senses. She pulled back immediately, shaking off his grip.

“Don’t call me that.”

He sighed “C’mon…”

“What do you want, Grant?”

“Hey, you bumped into me.” He chuckled. “You look amazing by the way.”

She snorted, and looked away.

“Look, I just wanted to say, well, I hate how we left things, you know? And I…”

“How we left thigs?” Katie’s eyes locked back onto his as she let out a sarcastic laugh.  “The only thing I left was your apartment after finding you in bed with some blond bimbo.”

“The biggest mistake of my life.” Grant sighed, “I honestly mean that…”

“Is this the part where you say sorry for cheating on me and beg for my forgiveness?” Katie watched as the dark brown eyes that she had once found irresistible bore into hers and she felt the anger simmering again. She’d worked so long to get this man out of her system, but here he was, daring to try and smarm her into accepting an apology.  The sheer audacity of it was making her want to scream.

“I am sorry. I genuinely am…”

“You’re sorry you got caught. There’s a difference.”

“No, that’s not it.” Grant shook his head. “There hasn’t been a single day where I haven’t thought about you and how I fucked up.”

He ran his hand through his hair and Katie shook her head.

“Let’s be honest, she wasn’t the first was she?” She looked up at him. Grant dropped his head and that was all the confirmation she needed. “Our relationship, it was a car crash.”

“I loved you.”

“Seriously? You’re trying that one?” She looked at him, and then burst out laughing. “Oh Jesus…” She shook her head in disbelief and made to walk round him but he grabbed her arm.

“What’s so funny?”

“Let go of me.”

“I asked you a question…”

“And she asked you to let her go.” A familiar voice said and Katie looked up to see Steve stood in the corridor, hands on his belt buckle as the door to the main bar area swung shut behind him, causing the loud background noise to fade slightly. “She won’t need to ask again.”

“Sorry…I…” Ward, let go of her arm as he composed himself and extended his arm in greeting.  “Captain Rogers. We haven’t been formally introduced. I’m-“

“I know who you are, Agent Ward” Steve looked at him, not even moving to take the man’s proffered hand, and he saw Ward’s jaw twitch, as his arm dropped back to his side, fist balling and unballing.

“I see. ” Ward raised an eyebrow, looking from Katie, to Steve and he took a deep breath and nodded. “I meant what I said. I really am sorry.”

Katie didn’t reply, simply watched him leave as he brushed past Steve who moved to the side to let him pass, but only after shooting him one last contemptuous look before the Captain turned back to Katie.

“Are you ok? Did he hurt you?” Steve asked her, stepping forward, noting she was rubbing the place on her arm where Ward’s hand had gripped.

“Hurt me?” she frowned.

“Yeah, your arm.” He nodded to it.

“Oh, no.” she said, shaking her head as her hand moved. “That was just weird.”

“Weird?”

“Yeah, I mean, well for so long I thought about what I’d say to him when I eventually did see him again, you know, how much he hurt me, broke my heart, but right then when I got the opportunity, I realised I actually don’t give a shit anymore.”

Steve smiled. “Good, I’m glad he didn’t upset you.” There was a pause before he gestured over his shoulder. “You err, you wanna go back in?”

“Do you think anyone would notice if I left?” She shrugged. “I don’t wanna be here anymore and there’s a bottle of wine and a pint of ice cream at home with my name on it”

“What Ice cream?” Steve asked, looking at her, raising his brow hopefully and she shook her head, chuckling.

“Mint choc chip.” she looked at him, before she turned to head towards the door of the bar before she stopped, and spoke again, without looking back. “Suppose I can share.”

With that she pushed the door open and Steve grinned, following her out.

*********

“I don’t know why you wear shoes so high if you can’t walk in them?” Steve snorted as Katie let out a groan, kicking her shoes off as soon as they stepped out of the elevator.

“Because they look good.” She shrugged. “I’m just gonna get changed, won’t be long. Grab yourself a drink.”

Whilst she was in the bedroom Steve did as he was told and grabbed a beer for himself, and poured Katie a glass of wine before carrying them into the lounge and setting them on the coffee table. He had to stop himself from staring when she walked back into the room, all long legs and thigh tattoo, in a pair of denim shorts and a hoody. She dropped heavily onto the sofa besides him, taking her wine and gulping down a large mouthful.

“You sure you’re ok?” he asked, looking at her.

“Stop asking me that, Steve.” She snapped. “I’m fine.”

“Sorry, I didn’t…”

“No, I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “That was uncalled for.” She looked at him and gave a soft smile. “I’m fine, honestly. And thank you, for being there before.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” Steve shook his head. “I care about you Katie, you know that. And, well, frankly, when I saw him with his hand on you, I wanted to smash his face into the wall.”

Katie let out a huff of laughter as she glanced at her wine glass.  “You’ll have to get behind Tony in the queue.”

Steve looked down at his beer, before he took a deep breath. “The guy is a dick.” he said, tilting side on so his arm was over the back of the sofa behind her. “And I don’t mean that just because of tonight. If you were my girl I wouldn’t be looking twice at anyone else.”

Katie smiled, as she looked up at him. “That’s because you’re a gentleman.”

“No.” he shook his head, his blue eyes locking onto hers. “It’s because you’re worth so much more than that.”

“Sure.” she shrugged and Steve pressed his lips together in a firm line of frustration.

“Don’t…”

“What?” she frowned.

“Do that.“ he pressed.

“Do what?”

“Put yourself down. You do it all the time” he sighed.

“I don’t.” She swallowed, looking away.

“Yes, you do. You think so little of yourself but you shouldn’t. Katie, you’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met” With that he took a deep breath, there was no going back now. The hand that wasn’t draped around the back of the sofa reached out and tangled in hers and as she raised her head to look at him, her eyes were filled with tears and he swallowed, his mouth feeling suddenly dry as the blood pounded in his ears, his heart beating so rapidly he thought it might burst through his chest.

He had to make her understand, just how deep his feeling went.

His right hand gently moved from the sofa back to the side of her jaw where he simply cupped her face and she closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. When she opened them again, it was just in time to see his gaze flicker to her mouth, before he leaned forward, a movement that was slow and seemed to take forever, until his lips met hers in a soft, sweet kiss that set every single nerve in her body on edge.  

Steve pulled away slightly, just enough so that he could look into her eyes, make sure she was okay with this, and finding nothing but eagerness on her part, he pressed his lips back to hers.

The entire world around them faded to nothing and they both relaxed as this time the kiss deepened slightly, his hand still cupping her cheek as he slid his tongue gently across her bottom lip. She obliged, opening her mouth slightly and at the touch of her tongue on his Steve felt a jolt of electricity surge up his spine.  Eventually they broke away and Steve gently slid his nose along hers unable to keep the smile off his face as their foreheads rest together.

“Where did you learn to kiss like that, Captain Badass?” She whispered and he gave a chuckle.

“To be honest with you…” he sat up slightly, his right hand returning to where it had been before, resting on the back of the sofa “I don’t think I have until now.”

She grinned and tucked her hair behind her ear with a hand that was trembling from nerves, adrenaline and absolute pleasure at being kissed by the utter God of a man sat on her sofa.

“So err…” Steve licked his lips. “I know this might be a little late, so to speak after, well, erm, yeah, but I’d really like to take you out, you know, on a date?”

Katie blinked as he stuttered over his words, and suddenly became aware she was chewing on her lip. She felt heat in her cheeks as she looked at him and nodded, smiling softly. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

That crooked grin she knew and had come to love spread across his face.

“You free tomorrow?” he asked before hastily correcting himself “It’s Saturday, or is that too soon? We could always go next weekend instead if you want or-”

“Steve,” she cut him off, gently squeezing her fingers round his, “tomorrow is fine.”

“Great, tomorrow…that’s…great…” He trailed off as Katie held his gaze.

The air between them seemed to crackle and this time it was her that initiated the kiss. This one was slightly deeper, the fire in her belly was hotter and that naughty part of her would have loved nothing more than to throw her hands round his neck and pull him down on top of her. But Steve Rogers was nothing if not a gentleman, and she didn’t want to rush into anything. She’d waited too long for this to fuck it up by moving too fast. With that in mind she willed herself to pull away.

“So err, you wanna watch a film or…” She glanced at the TV.

“Yeah…” Steve gave a little chuckle, his eyebrows raising a little before he took a deep breath. “You need another drink?”

Katiee nodded and he hopped up off the sofa, taking her empty glass to top it up, frankly glad of the chance to cool down. He’d had to stop himself then from pushing her down on the couch, but he knew that wouldn’t be the right thing to do. He wanted to do this properly, it was too special to risk.

Katie flicked through the android box, and with a grin found the perfect film, one that was a comedy, not romance or action, something easy.

“The Sandlot?” Steve asked as he handed her the filled glass, reading the title on the screen. “It’s about baseball?”

“More about kids having adventures over summer but yeah, baseball features a lot. It’s funny, you’ll like it” 

“Sure I will.” Steve said, as he settled down next to her.

She pressed play on the film, threw the remote onto the coffee table and lifted Steve’s arm, sliding into place beneath it, tucking herself in against his side with her legs curled up beneath her. It was something she’d done so many times before but this time, well it felt different. Steve pressed a kiss to her head before turning his attention back to the film, his arm draped over her shoulders, fingers gently tracing shapes on her upper arm.

They sat in the dark living room, watching the film, not another word shared. They both laughed, Steve grimacing at the Chewing Tobacco scene where the kids all vomited off the side of a fairground ride, it reminded him far too vividly of the time he had barfed after riding the Cyclone, and at the end when it showed one of the kids playing for the LA Dodgers Steve was the first one to break the comfortable silence, letting out a little snort.

“I still don’t like the fact they aint in Brooklyn any more”

“Really, you never mentioned it.” Katie said sarcastically, sitting up.

He rolled his eyes before he stretched. “I should be going.”

“Yeah, it is late.” Katie agreed, standing up as he did. “And I got a big date tomorrow.”

“Yeah” he asked, paying along as he walked to the door “Anyone I know?”

“Just some guy from work.” she shrugged. “He’s pretty hot but don’t tell him I said so.”

Steve laughed. “You’re a nightmare, you know that?” he smirked.

“Yeah but, you love it.” Katie shrugged as the elevator arrived.

“Yeah, I do.” Steve smiled softly, dropping a gentle kiss to her lips. “Goodnight, Doll.”

“Night Stevie.”

He squeezed her hand and stepped into the elevator and as soon as the doors had closed, a huge shit eating grin spread across both their faces.  

***** Chapter 5

**Original Posting**

[pterodactylterrace]

Guys Like You Chapter 4

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 4

Chapter Summary: It’s not a date, but I’m totally calling it a date in my head

Rating: 18+ for later chapters

Warnings: Mentions of blood

{Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3}

So, what are the odds of getting an entire day just canceled? Like, everyone just collectively agrees to go back to bed and skip the entire day for the good of mankind? Or at the very least for the good of one very tired single mother?

Briar had a bad dream the night before and came flying into her room just after midnight. Then the little girl had curled up against her mother in a way that had Faye contorted into an odd position, which led to the backache of the century.

Combine that with Briar's constant rolling and kicking and she also didn't sleep worth crap. Her alarm going off that morning sounded less like a happy little chime to welcome in the day, and more like execution bells leading her to her death. Naturally Briar had hopped straight up, entirely too happy to greet the day, and bounded off to plunder the kitchen for snacks. Faye on the other hand, ended up calling set to let them know she wasn't feeling well enough to come in.

Sometime around eleven in the morning she was met with horrific stomach cramps that had her wondering just what she had eaten the day before. Nothing Briar hadn't eaten, and she seemed just fine. Was this how she dies? A bleak implosion on an unassuming Thursday? Was she really going to go out like this?

It was during her next trip to the bathroom that she realized it probably wasn't death coming for her, the cramps were more likely caused by her monthly visitor showing up to kick her while she was down. Weird, usually she didn't really get cramps. Figures she would get stuck with this mess today. Now her back hurt, her stomach hurt, her head hurt, she felt like a walking zombie, and upon further inspection, she was a tired hurting zombie that had forgotten to replenish her supplies after Briar had mistaken them for candy and stickers. Just what she wanted, a trip to the store while she felt like death, with an energetic threenager in tow.

Half an hour of wrestling with Briar to get dressed and actually put on pants later, her phone started going off. That was when she remembered inviting Henry over for dinner that night under the guise of "wanting to try a new recipe and needing another adult to try it". In all honesty she was just trying to lure him back. She'd gotten a taste of having him around and found herself quickly becoming addicted. In truth, it was a recipe she had mastered while she was pregnant with Briar but hadn't made in a while. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, right?

Unfortunately, it was looking like she was going to have to postpone their "it's not a date but I'm totally calling it a date in my head" for another time. A time when her body didn't feel like it was imploding and when she had slept for more than twelve minutes. A time when she could feasibly pounce and possibly even have a reason to break into the unopened box in her bedside drawer. It had been a going away gift from her sister when she had moved to England, with the explicit instructions to "go and getting that English dick" or something. It had been ten months and she still hadn't opened it. Turns out having a child that you are responsible for running around your house can take a toll on your sex life.

"Hey, Henry." Faye sighed, hitting the speakerphone button and setting the phone on her bed to grab something for herself to wear.

"Hello, Miss Warren. I must have missed you on set today." Ugh, ever since Mrs. Anderson had called her that, he had been a dog with a bone.

"No, I wasn't in today." Faye sighed, grabbing an old ratty bra to throw on along with her "I give up" sweats.

"Did you have the day off?"

"No, I'm just not feeling great. Sorry I didn't call you earlier. I hope you haven't left yet, Briar and I need to run to the store."

"I'm already on my way." Henry informed. "I can grab whatever you need, I'm already out after all."

"I need pads and tampons, Henry. I doubt that's too high up on your list of things you wanted to go shopping for today." Faye sighed, digging her knuckles into her lower back to try and relax the knotted muscles.

"Anything else?" Wait, seriously?

"Not that I need right now?" Why was that a question? Was this some vivid hallucination or something?

"Alright, I should be to your house in about half an hour."

"Uhh... yeah... see you then. Just let yourself in if I don't answer the door, I may be sobbing hysterically into my rubber duckie." Faye really needed to have a talk with that voice in her head that keeps her from saying or doing anything weird. It seems to have gone strangely MIA in the last few months.

"The toddler won't attack me if I walk in, will she?"

"She'll probably be in the bathroom reminding me I'm naked every few seconds."

"She did seem to enjoy that the last time I was over."

"You have no idea."

"I'll see you in a bit, enjoy your bath." Yeah, right. Who wants to bleed into their bathwater?

Naturally, her hyperactive daughter followed her into the bathroom, pointing out everything she could as her mother tried to shower. "Mommy, you look like a tiger!" "Mommy, you have a big butt!" "Mommy, when will I get boobies like yours?" "Mommy, you're nakie!" "Mommy, do you have a boo boo on your butt?" "Mommy, when do I get pictures on me like you have?" "Mommy, are you in the shower?" "Mommy, why are you nakie in the shower?"

Briar, her little womb nugget. Her angel. Her reason for getting up most mornings. The light of her life. The fountain of endless questions.

"Henry! You're back!" Briar gasped from the other side of the curtain, the sound of her little feet on the tile letting Faye know she had left her station at the edge of the tub to greet their guest. "Mommy has stripes, I'll show you!"

"No! No, that's ok." Henry quickly deflected, snatching her up in his free arm before she could scurry back to the curtain. Once was enough of that for right now. It had taken her mother almost a week to look him in the eye after that day. It had taken him almost as long to tear his eyes from her backside every time she turned away. It wasn't even like he was actively trying to stare, his gaze just kept being pulled to it like a magnet. If she caught his rubbernecking however, she never let him know.

"But she's a  tiger! RAWR!" Briar giggled.

"I can hear you!" Faye grouched.

"I'll leave this on the sink for you. I forgot to ask exactly what you wanted, so I grabbed a lot of options." Henry called over the sound of the water. "Briar, why don't you show me how you make that tea again?"

He must be an alien. That was the most obvious explanation for him. Guys like him don't make the dreaded tampon run. Especially unprompted. He does realize he's too damn pretty to have to do such things, right? They also don't entertain your tiny clone for you to give you a moment's peace. Nope, he's clearly an alien. The MIB would be by any minute to wipe her mind.

When Faye finally put away the veritable stockpile she had been graced with and redressed herself, she wandered back to her living room, half expecting fire and mild chaos. She wasn't expecting to find Henry reading a Greek Mythology book to her overly fascinated daughter.

"The minotaur! Oh no!" Briar squealed excitedly when he turned the page, a depiction of the beast staring back at her.

"Don't worry, little one. You see that man? His name is Theseus, and he takes care of that mean minotaur." Henry soothed.

"Snaps his neck actually." Faye provided, curling up at the other end of the couch.

"Oh, you're familiar with the story?" Henry chuckled.

"Who's book do you think that is?"

"Just because you own it, doesn't mean you've read it." Henry pointed out.

"Those were my bedtime stories. Now Briar keeps wanting me to read them to her at night too."

"A little mythology nerd in the making." Henry chuckled, poking the toddler's side, making her squeal in delight.

"Books are for nerds!" Briar declared, snatching the book from Henry's hands and racing down the hallway.

"Yeah, don't even ask me what that was about." Faye sighed, shaking her head at her daughter.

"Feeling better?"

"Feeling more human." Faye forced out around a stifled yawn.

"Why don't you lie down and rest? I'm pretty sure I can keep Briar entertained and manage something for you guys to eat."

"You don't have to, Hen. You've already done so much." Faye declined, pushing herself up and mentally steeling herself for the meal prep she had ahead of her.

"Nope." Henry quickly interjected, popping up from the couch and snatching Faye up like she weighed nothing, ignoring her surprised squeal. "You're laying down, I've got this." He insisted, replacing her on the couch.

"Henry!"

"What? Don't think I can handle one toddler? Do you forget I have nieces and nephews? I'm sure one child will be a breeze for an hour or two."

"You don't know my daughter." Faye mumbled.

"I'll handle it. I had to go all morning without my favorite artist. If watching Briar for a little while means you'll be back tomorrow, I'm game."

Clearly someone forgot to inform him he was an incredibly attractive, successful actor. Faye decided she should catch some rest while she could, just in case someone decided to let him in the loop within the next hour or so.

[starrybethany]

I’m Sure - Adam Boqvist Imagine Part 1

Word count: 3.3K

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

I heard about Adam before I met him. The guys had hung around my office, claiming they wanted to catch up with me, but I really know it’s just because they want to gossip. Hockey players are like that. We were catching up on how their summers went.

“Hey, did you see who was drafted, Y/N?” Dylan asks, wandering around the small room and staring at various objects.

“Nope,” I pop the ‘p’, scanning over the email recently sent to me. “Who was it?”

“This Swedish kids with sick hands,” Alex gushes.

“Really? Is he gonna be the next Patty Kane?”

“Please, like anyone could be like Showtime,” he scoffs.

Dylan pulled up some videos of his highlights, showing them to me.

I nod in approval. “Looks like hockey.”

They give me unamused looks.

We’ve had this talk plenty of times- they think that since I work at the United Center, I should understand hockey more, I think that since I work for United Center and not for the Blackhawks, it really doesn’t matter.

Adam had spent that season in London with the Knights. I had heard about him sprinkled into conversations here and there but really, I just focused on my work as being the suites advisor and making sure everything went smoothly. It was a great year for bookings, and apparently a great year for him.

Alex tried explaining the kid’s talent to me when we were on a double date with our partners, but I still couldn’t understand hockey that well, so I just smiled and nodded. He let that slip by.

It wasn’t until he was here in Chicago that I got it.

For some reason I had been down at the rink, watching practice take place. He had spent a few weeks with the Hawks- weeks that I had taken off to take care of my boyfriend after his knee surgery- and was sent down to Rockford almost as soon as I had returned.

The boys were really upset that I hadn’t met their new friend, Kirby especially, who was a new addition to our group almost as soon as Dominik introduced him to me.

But then there he was, back on the ice. I squinted my eyes, not remembering a ‘27’ on the team. The last name clicks, and I watch as he flies around on the ice, joking with the guys and passing the puck skillfully.

I got it. I understood then why the boys thought he was so talented and why he was back in the NHL at the mere age of nineteen. He played with confidence and speed, a conscious defenseman- something the boys tell me they’ve been struggling with.

Then I un-got it.

Alex had invited a couple of us over for drinks one night and my boyfriend, as he did often, accompanied me.

“Oh, you guys haven’t met yet,” Alex comments, pouring glasses of wine for all of us. “Y/N, this is Adam, the defenseman we’ve been telling you about. Adam, this is Y/N, she works as a suites advisor for the UC.”

“Nice to meet you,” I reach out, shaking his hand. I thought he was attractive, I won’t lie. From the detailed tattoos to the messy hair, he was just my type. But my boyfriend was sitting right next to me, so that was a line I didn’t want to cross.

It didn’t matter to Adam, though. He winked at me as we shook hands, which I found distasteful, but allowed myself to send him a tight-lipped smile.

“And this is my boyfriend, Steven,” I emphasis, resting my hand on Steven’s thigh.

“Oh yeah,” Alex mutters.

Alex always tended to forget about Steven. In fact, everyone seemed to forget about Steven.

“So, suites’ advisor?” Adam questions, ignoring the man sitting next to me. I could feel my boyfriend freeze up at the clear dismissal.

“Yep.”

“What do you do? Just say hello to all of the rich investors?” By the smirk on his face and the small sip of wine, I can tell the dig is intentional.

He knows there is much more that goes into this job than that, so I don’t know why he’s trying to get under my skin. Especially when we just met.

“Um, no, actually, I schedule who books suites for when, what suites are available, who caters what suite. A lot goes into it, actually,” I send him a fake smile.

His smirk just widens, digging under my skin even more.

Steven and I had left early that night.

~

I ungot it again at the family skate. I’ve never learned how to skate- the guys tried to teach me, but I get frustrated easily so they stopped attempting. I’m stumbling around on the ice by myself, the boys stopping by once and a while to check on me but quickly rushing off to be with their significant others. Steven has work today and we had an argument a few days ago, so I didn’t even bother inviting him to the family skate.

A hard body runs into me from behind, causing me to become unbalanced and hit the boards, catching myself before I fall right onto the ice.

“Ow,” I turn around to glare at the person who pushed me, narrowing my eyes even more when I see the familiar blonde boy and the smirk that he’s always wearing. “What’s your problem, dude?”

“What do you mean?” His accent is thick with his words, making my stomach flutter but the irritation replaces the fluttering quickly.

“You’ve just been rude to me for no reason. What’s up with that?”

He gives me a surprised look, like he didn’t expect me to confront him on it. But I don’t know why he would think that- if you’re going to be a dick, I have a right to call you out on it.

He scoffs quickly, an annoyed expression quickly replacing his surprised one. “You’re overthinking everything.”

I watch as he skates away in annoyance, Kirby replacing his spot next to me.

“You two are close, right?” I question.

He nods.

“Why does he hate me so much?”

He laughs at that and I’m the one who’s shocked now. “Isn’t it obvious? He likes you.”

I give him an unimpressed look. “You’re saying he’s acting like an asshole because he likes me?”

“Hey, I didn’t say it was logical,” he puts his hands up in defense, skating away.

I’ve always thought that was ridiculous. If you like someone, just tell them. And if you don’t, just avoid them. There is no reason that meanness is needed, especially if it’s because you really like that person.

I try to avoid Adam after that.

~

It doesn’t last long. About a week of avoiding him goes by before I find myself out at a bar with him and a few other players. I had just broken up with Steven, discovering that I no longer did my ‘in love�� giggle with him or smiled when I saw his name pop up on my phone.

But just because I fell out of love with him didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. It hurt. It really hurt. So that’s how I found myself one, two, three, four drinks in at the bar, too drunk to remember what I was saying and too drunk to care about how I might feel the next day.

I went on the dance floor to blow off some steam, swaying along to pop songs and screaming the lyrics.

Arms wind around my waist and I look down at them, spotting a familiar sleeve. I turn around in his arms, careful to not move my hands. I’m worried of what I might do if that happens- even though Steven and I had just broken up, I’ve been touch-deprived for weeks.

“What are you doing, Adam?” I question, leaning closer so that he can hear me.

“You’re single now, right?”

“Yes, but did I give you permission to touch me?” I raise my eyebrows.

He takes a step back with amusement, raising his arms defensively to show me that he’s respecting my boundaries.

Then I can’t help but think: fuck it. After being in a committed relationship for years, why not mess around with some guy I have intense sexual chemistry with? He’s hot, he’s sexy, sure he’s an asshole but I’m sure that confidence would do wonders in bed.

So, I throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and tangling in his blonde locks as I pull him as close to me as he can get. One of his hands rests on my ass while the other rests on my hip, tugging me closer and closer to him.

He’s staying with Alex and Lyndsey, so we end up at my apartment in my bedroom. And when I wake up in the morning, I don’t regret it.

I regret it when I go to work the next day. He gives me a knowing look every time he passes me in the hall and even Kirby sends me a look or two.

It happens for a couple more days until one day he finds himself in my office with Dylan and Alex Nylander, another young rookie.

I’d been struggling with work all day, people bitching at me on the phone and numbers not adding up so all I really wanted was to finish the last hour of work and go home.

Then Adam gives me a look.

“What’s your problem?” I snap.

He gives me a confused expression, causing me to elaborate. “We slept with each other once and now you think you know so much about me? Do you think you can hold this over my head or something?”

Dylan chokes on his spit and Alex stifles his laughter, Adam flustering with words.

I organize a stack of papers on my desk, not even bothering to make eye contact with any of them. “I think it’s best if you three leave.”

They respect my wishes. An hour later I lock my door with a deep sigh, turning to make my way towards the parking lot. A body pushes me up against my door suddenly, causing me to gasp and dart my eyes up to see who my attacker is.

My eyes meet familiar blue ones and my body relaxes at the sight, then freezes up again when I realize I’m stuck in between his arms.

“You know, I didn’t really like that stunt you pulled earlier,” Adam breathes out, breath fanning over my face. His head leans down and he nibbles at the skin on my neck teasingly.

I hold back a moan at the action. “You didn’t?”

“No,” he bites down a little bit harder, causing me to wince. “I think you’re going to have to be punished for that.”

“You think so?” I whisper out.

“I think so.”

“Then I think we should get started on this now, don’t you think?”

“I agree.”

~

And that’s how I began sleeping with Adam Boqvist. Neither of us are looking for anything serious- I want to live the single life after being in a committed relationship for so long and he wants to enjoy his single, youth years in the great city of Chicago.

Plus, he would be the last person I would date.

He’s cocky, selfish, obnoxious, loud- I could keep going.

But either way, the relationship between us, or whatever you want to call it, isn’t end game. He isn’t the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. He’s not the one I want to raise children with or sit with on rocking chairs on the porch.

He’s just a guy I want to have sex with until I find the right person for me.

So, tell me why I’m sitting in my shitty apartment bathroom with two pregnancy tests sitting on the small basin of the sink.

I crisscross my legs on the toilet, fiddling with my fingers anxiously. They have to be negative. They have to be.

I can’t have a child right now. I want to focus on my career and build my reputation in the field. I don’t want to have a baby just a couple years into starting this job. I can’t afford a baby anyways; Chicago is an insanely expensive city and I can barely afford to live by myself.

Hell, I live in a loft.

Besides, I can’t be connected to Adam for the rest of my life. I can hardly stand the guy as it is.

As the minutes slowly pass by, I convince myself that I’m not actually pregnant. The ache in my ankles and lower back are due to stress from work and the vomiting is because my eating habits haven’t been as consistent as they usually are.

I’m just going to completely ignore the fact that I let Adam have sex with me without a condom while I was off my birth control for a while due to the weird side effects it was giving me.

It’s like I’m watching from outside of my own body as I reach forward, grabbing the sticks and holding one in each hand.

Positive. Positive.

My heartbeat fastens and I can feel my breath getting shallow. I try to focus my breathing, counting to four over and over and it slowly helps.

My eyes open back up as I ground myself and I can’t help but just stare at the sticks, switching between the two. I’m pregnant. I’m having Adam Boqvist’s baby.

~

I really didn’t prepare myself for the next time that I’d see him. I’ve already prepared myself to deal with this on my own- whichever way I decide to do that. I haven’t really decided that yet either.

“Hey,” he grins at me as he enters my office, shutting the door behind him. “I have about ten minutes before Kirby starts to look for me, let’s have a quickie.”

“No, Adam,” I sigh, swallowing the lump in my throat. The words are just begging to come out. I’m pregnant. You’re going to be a dad.

“Why not? Is it because we’re at work? We’ve done it in your office before,” he protests.

I set the pen down next to the pad of paper gently, crossing my hands on the top of the desk and turning to focus him with a serious expression. His mischievous grin fades when he notices that I’m not in the playful or teasing mood that I’m usually in when I see him.

“What’s up?” He questions.

“Adam, I’m pregnant.”

His reaction is not one I expect. His face turns to one of confusion, like he’s genuinely unsure why I would be telling him this.

“Congratulations?” He says it more like a question.

My eyes narrow into a glare at the word. He doesn’t believe that it’s his child. I feel hurt, disrespected, and angry. Who does he think I am, the type of girl who has unprotected sex with everyone who walks?

Not that there’s anything wrong with those girls, more power to them, it’s just- he knows me. We’ve been in each other’s beds most of the time for the past couple of months. I spend practically every night with him, and he has the nerve to doubt paternity?

“It’s yours, idiot.” I can’t help but let that dig slide.

“Well how do you know that?”

“Because if I’m not working, I’m having sex with you,” I say slowly, like I have to spell it out for him.

“Well how do you know it’s not- uh- what’s that guy’s name- Steven’s kid?” Adam inquires, his eyes showing that he’s searching hard for an excuse to not take responsibility.

I scoff, leaning back in my chair. “Whatever, Adam, I don’t care if you believe me. I’m going to figure it out.”

“You better.” And by the way he says it, I know what he wants me to do. I know that he doesn’t want to be a father- although actions do have consequences, there is a reason that abortion and adoption are options.

I can also tell that now he knows for sure that he is the father. And he sure as hell doesn’t want to be the father.

~

I don’t know why I’m so nervous. It’s just scheduling an appointment- I can always cancel or reschedule.

But my finger rests over the call button for a long time, ‘Planned Parenthood’ looking up at me, mocking me, taunting me.

Do you want an abortion or not? Do you want to be a mother or not? Do you want to go through this pregnancy or not?

There are so many questions flashing through my head. Quite frankly, I don’t know what I want to do. I have no one to turn to- as much as I love the team, I don’t want to cause a rift between them and Adam, and I don’t want to think that we’re closer than we actually are.

I cut out my family years ago.

My friends are all party girls, they wouldn’t know the first thing about a baby if it hit them.

Everything is telling me that I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t want to raise a baby on my own, I shouldn’t want to be a single mother.

But why do I so desperately yearn for it? Why did I feel joy when I looked at those sticks and why do I get excited at the thought of little footsteps running around on hardwood floors?

I press the call button.

It gets two rings in before I end it, knowing I’ve made my choice despite all odds.

I need to keep this baby. I know Adam won’t be there for me, but he doesn’t need to be. All this baby needs is to feel love and support and it’ll get that from me and me alone. I need to start fresh, though, to make sure that I’m the best mom that I can be.

~

“I can’t believe you quit, just like that,” Alex states with a disappointed tone.

I told the guys I quit because I want a change in scenery. That’s not a lie, I’m excited to be moving to the beautiful state of Colorado to start new. But I also hid the news about the baby. They don’t follow me on social media, so they’ll never know- unless Adam says something to them about it. But I doubt he will.

“We’ll miss you,” Dylan adds.

“I’ll miss you guys too,” I respond, closing the cardboard box containing all of my office supplies. Picture frames, pens, cool knick-knacks. All packed into a box ready to be shipped to the mountain zone.

“Hey Adam, Y/N was just getting ready to say goodbye,” Alex says, making me look up from taping up the box with wide eyes.

Sure enough, the blonde is leaning in the doorway, looking unsure for the first time since I’ve met him. It’s weird to see him so hesitant. It’s not him.

But I also don’t feel bad for him. A real dad would step up and want to be there for their kid. A good dad would do that. But clearly, and unfortunately, I was right. Adam Boqvist is and always will be selfish.

I say my goodbyes to Alex and Dylan, the box in one arm while I lock the office with the other hand.

“You’re really leaving?”

“Let’s just get this over with, Adam,” I start, turning to him. He winces when I look him in the eye, seeing all of the resentment and anger I feel towards him. “I’m keeping the baby. I’m raising the baby on my own. Don’t worry, I won’t put you down on the birth certificate. You’ll never see us again.”

His mouth opens then closes. “Are you sure?”

I scoff at the question, shaking my head in disbelief. I go to push past him. “Oh, trust me, I’m sure.”

[desire-tenderness]

𝔹𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕖

{This is a fanfic dreamed and desired. All I write about is my feelings, sensations and desires.  TEXT BY: L.M} Day 1 - Embark on the dazzle. October 9, 2023, Monday. I am exhausted, the recording will begin on Tuesday at 11 am. I think I slept only 3 hours and 20 minutes or I’m just kicking it out loud. This was a very tiring trip I confess. Maybe because it was almost a change of two months and a week. On the bright side, the production has provided a nice apartment for me to live in. My new home is beautiful and comfortable, one block away from Crescent Street, here in Montreal - Canada. Honestly, I can’t believe I’m finally having the opportunity to work with Xavier Dolan, I left my family in Brazil to embark on this dream, I already miss them. I should tell you that I have no idea of the cast that will be on this project, but the script looks fabulous. Before I embarked on this opportunity, I realized a portion of the dream. I and 7 other members of the team dined with Dolan last Thursday, debated the first decupagents and agendas. We had already read the script before the meeting, is it a low-budget experimental drama, and honestly? I lost my breath. I’m not in the position of art director I’ve always dreamed of, but I’m in the position where I have full knowledge and experience. Curious, I am not trembling with nerves, I am completely at peace with this realization. However, very anxious. We’re less than two hours away from reuniting in Saint-Laurent with the cast of "A race by Joseph". [.... ] - Less than two hours later. Okay, I’m about to get my guts out from all the nerves. I’ve heard of some names on the list of actors, including Troye Sivan, Vincent Cassel, and Louise Coldefy. The team is sensational and fucking, Xavier is like a master for me. I need to make these days my best college. I’m at home/rental number six, it’s wonderful. I can see two cars coming through the window, and "God bless me so that Suzanne Clément is in this cast" [Spoiler, I wasn’t, I had to accept], I think I’m going to have an anxiety attack, I need to splash water on my face. I lost count of how many times I filled my hands with water and threw it in my face, I needed to understand that I was really living this moment. I came out of the bathroom apprehensive. Céline handed me a cup of tea mix of Sage, Eucalyptus, Lemon Peel and said "Hey, relax, I’ll see you in the living room.. ah, one more thing, don’t freak out". I feel a chill creeping all over my body as I walk through the door frame. Everyone was waiting for me in the room so we could debate the first two weeks of the recording. I could feel my legs swaying to the point of not having enough sustenance to stand. Timothée Chalamet was sitting on the arm of Dolan’s armchair in silence, reading what would be the 4°page of some document. Quickly he gets up and presents himself squeezing my hand gently. Silence has taken over the environment, I don’t remember my name. [I remembered! ] It was remarkable how difficult he was to pronounce it, it made it all very comical, in seconds we were all laughing. At that time, other cast members performed, but my thoughts were so far away that I don’t know if I missed any important information. [Damn, how many questions are going through my head right now? I don’t even have control over them. Stop! Focus, your future depends on this delivery. ]

[.... ] With the passing of the hours I was reasonably more relaxed and with an unparalleled feeling of gratitude for what was happening to me. We discussed the script, much of it together, the day was very productive. I kept looking at him, he’s so funny and authentic, I feel comfortable now. Obviously we wouldn’t be friends, he wouldn’t notice an assistant director [even though I’m the director’s right-hand man]. The team will be dining with the cast soon, it’s 5:47 pm and I haven’t been able to confirm my presence at this dinner. What’s my problem?! Celine: You’ll go, right? We’ll go home together and unpack. Me: Oh Céli, I don’t think I will. I have a lot to pack, tomorrow starts the recordings and I want to do everything right. Celine: No, you are not going to organize things by yourself. Nor has dinner there in the house, let’s eat please, I’m starving. Think you need to catch up! Me: Relax Celi, I’ll do things in my time, have a wine while I cook something and sleep early. Look, Wednesday we won’t record.. We can go downtown and get a quick look at the city, what do you think? Celine: You’re hopeless. Well, I’ll tell you about it. Arriving at the apartment I opened all the windows, and went to cook thinking about what the following days would be like. I decided then that I should not intensify anything, it could disrupt me at work and I can’t let my impulsive Aryan side get out of hand. I decided to go to the disco and see what the last song the host of the apartment heard. Well, did you start playing Nick Drake’s Pink Moon and honestly? I can’t let the pink moon get me. Fuck, I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my entire life, it’s as fascinating as on screens or in photographs. [Stop! Concentrate. ] [...] 00:01 am The wine bottle is 98% empty now. I have not yet fallen asleep and Celine is already in her 8th deepest sleep. I need to sleep. She said that they were so energized, that the team’s relationship is great and that she ate a delicious Poutine, I found it very courageous for those who will spend the whole day recording tomorrow.  [I’m laughing alone while imagining a disaster] I will sleep and tomorrow will be the first day of my life. I swear I was born now and suddenly everything changed. Things will be built from now on. Timothée Chalamet? I hear you’re a good actor, I don’t know you. Good night and see you soon.

Part 2

Day 50 - And I’m probably happy, could it be different? November 27, 2023, Friday. There are times I do not write in this "virtual diary", my days are super busy. Today we finish the work a little earlier, we finish the movie! I think it’s 4:00 now. Right, and why did I come back to write? Well, I wanted to forget the feeling that took me completely 50 days ago. But today something has happened that does not allow me to escape any feeling that exists here. Louise is severely ill, Christ! We’re at the end of the shoot, she’s Timothée’s date, missing four takes of a kiss between them for her last acting scene. Dolan needed two different angles and he didn’t have a voice voice available so suddenly. Louise and I have very similar hair and what I feared went through Dolan’s mind. "Be the Double" he said. Yeah, Chalamet and I kissed today, and, hell, there was no professionalism on my part or for a millisecond, I feel terrible! I felt like I had been thrown out of a plane and I was in a free fall. My heart had never accelerated so much. My fantasy almost made me believe that one of the butterflies in my stomach was coming out of my mouth 1 minute later. Holy shit! [What if it was not reciprocal? Of course it was not, silly! We are friends. ] I’m so pissed about it, I’ll tell them why.

All these days I’ve really become friends with Timothée, can you believe it? I’ve always been very afraid to talk to him because he doesn’t find me interesting enough. But we have an unusual tune. We had a lot of coffee together, a lot of claquettes I hit due to recording mistakes, we went out with the guys several times, even "alone" and that’s okay, we talked about Brazil and he made sure to go there anytime, I even smoked one of his cigarettes, even hating cigarettes. We were talking about how funny Vincent is and how amazing he is, and we were talking about how they were both working for the first time with Xavier Dolan. We laughed at stupid things until the belly hurt and even bet race in the parking lot next to the location. [He won, of course, has huge legs].

One day we were together cutting fruit for the rest of the team on the set as we talked about Georges de La Tour, "That ordinary painter" I said, and he gave a delicious laugh. He’s much simpler than I thought he could be, carries an admirable humility. And I swear, it was fine, because I was fascinated by that friendship and I could feel that it would last for many years. I’ve learned to deal with your stunning beauty. I liked the way he accepted me and had fun with me. He didn’t think I was silly. I was working for a salary and a bright future, and suddenly I felt I had won the lottery until that moment after the kiss. I feel like I’m failing at my resolve. To finish screwing with my mind, Celine told me something that made me much more sensitive about a feeling that, I swear, once again, I had managed to forget. Although I often fantasized that a mood was going on, I knew it was impossible. He definitely sees me as the cool girl makes him laugh and that he can truly trust. Celine: Look. I, for recklessness, overheard Timothée talking to Troye about you. I did not hear enough but I must say that your tone of voice was of pure indignation... Troye said, "She’s the kind of girl you want so much, you feel sorry for". Me: God damn it, did he hate my kiss?! I’m going to die, Celine! Troye clearly should be making fun of the situation. Who am I supposed to show up at Dolan’s tomorrow for dinner? Celine: Calm friend, you are traveling.. I have noticed things and I will not open my mouth. Everything will be fine, seriously.. kiss the chalamet? How can you be angry about that? [laughed] By the way, tomorrow after dinner, I’ve arranged to spend the night at Julie’s, do you want to go? Me: Oh.. I’m not in the mood to hear Julie talk all night about the new vegan recipes, sorry, pal. Celine: Okay.. I won’t bring you nice things. [My phone vibrated. I was reluctant to look, but it could be work.. ] Text Msg Timothée: I hope you’re okay, you seemed strange going away. Want to talk? By the way, you did well in tonight’s performance, you should try harder. Me: Says my angel, how are you? I am well, of course I am. [laughs nervously and it was noticeable] I was just nervous to have to act for Dolan and know that I will see myself on a movie screen, even if at closed angles. By the way, Mr. Chalamet, thank you very much. I have the seal of approval that interests me hahah Msg of text Timothée: I like it. See you tomorrow? Me: Yes, of course, until tomorrow! Msg of text Timothée: [video uploaded]

Part 3

Day 51 - Ecstasy, landscape of the soul. November 29th, 2023, Sunday morning. I don’t know how to write about how last night went.. I was upset, but I remember everything. I won’t be able to keep this journal after that I’ll tell. We were all gathered at Dolan’s house, drinking and laughing a lot, toasting to finish this incredible project. I already felt completely dizzy and with the warm body, things kept spinning in my head, it was so beautiful. He wore a leather jacket over the green sweatshirt, had a golf cap (Odd Future) hanging on one of the pants straps where his belt was, the black jeans almost on his knee and a red vans, and that hair.. that hair! It’s like a restless ocean. I was wishing to walk across the room and kiss him again with all the intensity that belongs to me, he would like it this time. My body was on fire, suddenly I was frozen, it’s coming toward me. I knew I could spoil any conversation by being totally random and awkward, I was dying of shame in advance. Timothée: Are you happy? Me: Sure, congratulations! You did a great job, I’m very proud of all of you. Timothée: Thank you, but none of this would have been the same if you weren’t on the team, right? Me: Right! [Cheers] [Silence] Timothée: What are you thinking right now? Me: Who you are, Where you’re from, don’t care what you Did as long as you love me..[I started singing As Long As You Love Me by the Backstreet Boys, really?] Timothée: Oh my God! [He laughed almost for the world to hear]. Are you going to Julie’s with Céline? There’s going to be a vegan class. I’d like a pizza, okay? Me: Look.. I also wanted a pizza instead of vegan food.. But I’m getting dizzy and I think I’m gonna go home and do my drunken show in the shower. Timothée: Ah.. Right, you’re dizzy, but you still know how many fingers you have here? [He did an 8 with his fingers] Me: Yes, of course. I’m fine, man, I’m weak but not that weak. Give me a skateboard there! [I screamed, and they didn’t take me seriously] Timothée: So.. we can go for a coffee to break the alcohol and fill the stomach with a piece of pizza, what do you think? Me: Wooah! Come on, send world pizza! [I couldn’t say no, I was completely taken. ]     We got to what used to be a kind of blinker-light coffee, it had a super-hot vibe. We sat down and made the request, we laughed drunk and said nothing that made sense, I felt our friendship alive again. However, the silence and the exchange of looks came, so we could hear the music that played in the background. It was "And I Love Her" by the Beatles”. Suddenly he began to sing. Timothée: "She gives me Everything and Tenderly. The Kiss my Lover brings, she brings to me and I love her." Me: Yeah.. beautiful music. You sing over and over again better than me. When did you start playing music? [My hands started sweating] Timothée: [he laughed] Are you all right? Me: Timmy. .ah.. I think I’m going home to take another shower, rest and call my family, I don’t know. Timothée: Okay, I’ll accompany you, I can’t let you go back alone so late. Me: You don’t need my angel. I’m a ninja! [I made the shameful gesture of a martial coup and tripped. The truth is I wanted him to insist] Timothée: Without that [laughed] let’s go!

We got to the apartment, he came up with me and put his coat on the couch. I offered him water, am I pathetic? He said he did not want to, but that if possible, he would like to stay. I felt as if we were talking by telepathy, I am not crazy. He feels the same. I said he could stay, even super apprehensive. I took two cigarettes from Kumbaya that I made on Tuesday and shouted from the room "let’s get some air on the balcony while we smoke!?". Upon returning to the room, he had put Cigarettes after sex to play, silently. Nothing but the music. Breaths. Another dose of silence. My body pumped blood with so much speed, [says something] I thought. He touched my right hand and looked at me. Those green eyes made me feel warm inside as never before. I got up the courage to pull him to the balcony that led to the fire escape. The sky was beautiful and the wind touching our faces was like a sky giveaway, I needed that fresh night air. Timothée: Do you need me to say it? I can say it. Me: I know what you’re going to say and I’m terrified. You want me too. Timothée: I want to. You make me feel good. I feel my presence truly when I share a moment with you. "Sometimes I think I’ve felt everything I’m going to feel in my life. And from now on, I won’t feel anything new. " Me: I promise that one day I will feel that everything is right. but it feels so wrong. Man, I feel like I’m living a fanfic, and I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and none of this ever happened, or worse, if it’s real, our friendship being compromised by what’s possibly going to happen here. He put his hands on my face, kissed my forehead. Timothée: The heart is not like a box that fills, L. It expands in size, the more you love someone. I’m different from you. It doesn’t make me love you any less. It actually makes me love you more. I want you. Me: Right.. We are here only briefly, and at this moment I want to allow myself joy. I want that, Timothée. And I promise that one day I will feel like everything is fine. He lovingly bowed to touch his lips to mine. Feeling those soft lips against mine, it was almost like an apocalyptic sensation, the world could end right there, would have no problem. We kissed as we entered through the large window of the room, the first pieces of clothing filling the lonely floor of the room. The music Sunsetz conducted our intimate dance. The words "you have to do the right thing, do the right thing" started to disappear from my head.

I feel overflowing out of the body, sensitive, I am under the effect of exaltation, very intense feelings of joy, pleasure, admiration, reverent awe... Timothée. I truly love him. We are lying on the living room floor, apparently wrapped in a curtain that has been disastrously removed. Timothée, his breath is hot, the sound coming out of his mouth shivers my body. We were like the painting of Egon Schiele - Gli Amanti (L'Abbraccio).

Blackout. Light. The voice of an angel reaches my ear. My eyes open. He looked at me in silence, I could smell his mildly sweet citrus smell all over the room. Its aroma stimulates my sensations. Timothée: I’ll make you a cup of coffee. I’ll be careful with the amount of sugar, it’ll be just the way you like it. Keep lying down, angel. Geez, what happens now? I don’t know, he doesn’t know, you don’t know. Anyway, I feel complete.

[nite-shay]

His Hero Part 4 (Kirishima Eijirou x Reader)

A/N: I don’t know if I’m completely happy about this chapter. I’m trying to get better with witting panic/anxiety/non-humor, so hopefully, next time, it’ll be a little better. Also, sorry for the long time off and just sporadic posting. Works been hell, but now that we’ll hopefully *grain of salt* were getting more people hired, I’ll have more motivation and time to write 

Warnings: Panic/anxiety , references to sex and/or sexual acts (nothing descriptive but suggestive) so I guess 18+? IDK how this works :/ If yer too young, offended by sex , sexual acts, sexual reference or don’t know where babies come from, please don’t read.

Word count: 3K 

Other then that, please enjoy! :D  

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

*****

Kirishima didn’t protest when Fat sent him home for the day. 

‘Go home. Clear your head. Call me if you need anything.’ 

Honestly, he barely heard his mentor’s words. He just sat there staring at the screen. Watching, pausing, rewinding, and watching again. Over and over again. It wasn’t until Fat picked him up and carried him to the door, did he finally get the memo.

Yeah... he didn’t need to be here right now...

The trip home was nothing but a blur, and honestly, he remembered nothing about it. His body was on autopilot as his mind tried to wrap the possibility that he might have a kid. 

A kid… A son… Your son… His son? But… How? Err… Wait! 

Ok, he knows the ‘how’ of how kids are made. 

Better phrasing, how could this have happened!? He was always careful with anyone he was with! Err, not that was a really long list or anything. Typically, he was only intimate with someone he’s known for a while, and when he was, he’d use a condom, or they were on the pill. 

Oh fuck. How could he have let this happen!?!?

Calm down. Calm down. 

Maybe he was just overthinking everything? It could just be a coincidence. Sure, he and the kid have some similarity, but hey, there’s like, billions of people on the planet! So some are bound to look alike! That doesn’t necessarily mean they’re related, right? Total chance! That’s it! It’s that stuff we learned in school. Static? No, that’s not right; that was in science. The other thing was in math...Statistics! Yeah, that’s it!

So what if the kid has red eyes? His best bud Katsuki does too! 

The sharp teeth? Look no further than his gym bro Tetsu! Hell, depending on the quirk, it can be a super common trait!

The quirk being exactly like his... well, ok, that was… odd. And yeah, he hasn’t run into any with his quirk specifically, but, big but, it doesn’t mean there isn’t someone out there with his quirk! 

Or maybe it’s not his quirk! Maybe its a similar one! Really, really, reeeealllly similar.

Total coincidence! Anyone can have those traits!

He just… happens to have all of them… just like the kid… whose mother he just happened to have slept with… around six years ago… 

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!

The room suddenly felt like it was closing in on him. The air got thinner, making it harder for him to breathe. He jumped off the couch and started pacing. He’s had issues with anxiety for years, and one thing he did learn, when he got like this, he needed to move.

Breath and walk. Breath and walk. Breath and….wait! The kid can’t be more than five! He slept with you six years ago! Ha! The time doesn’t match up! So he can’t be his kid!

His legs felt like jello as the waves of panic finally came to a halt, and took a deep, much-needed deep breath.

He wasn’t a father.

This was a good thing. A great thing!

He doesn’t have a kid. The time frame didn’t add up. He was in the clear.

He should feel happy. Relief. Ecstatic!

So why did he feel like he just got punched in the gut? 

He sighed as he made his way to his fridge in search of something to calm his nerves. Beer isn’t his typical drink of choice, but he was glad he kept a few on hand in moments like this. Since he was single and didn’t have a roommate, his place was the place of choice for ‘bro’s night.’ 

Though sometimes, there was nothing like a cold one to just chill after a long hard day.

He grabbed one of the glass bottles by the neck, activated his quirk, and flicked the lid off with his thumb. Cool little party trick he learned a few years back. 

As he tilted the drink back, he took a long hard swallow and let his mind wander. The beer of choice today was one Katsuki preferred. It was good, smooth going down, and less alcohol content. Which was fine. Ochaco, even after giving birth, still couldn’t stand the smell of alcohol. Pregnancy wasn’t a subject Kirishima knew a lot about, but he knew enough to respect it. 

He’d seen her hauling ass many adays to the toilet of the slightest whiff of something she didn’t like.

Then the cravings came along, which prompted a few late-night trips to the store by Katsuki or himself if his bro was at work. 

He chuckled as he thought about the few times Katsuki had said something to piss her off and sent him over to the redhead’s place for the night. Only to call him back a little while later in tears because of mood swings. 

Towards the end was rough, though. She’d been put on bed rest and was in a lot of pain. Katsuki took fewer shifts during that time to stay home and help ease her in any way he could. 

Damn, she went through all that for, what almost a year? Maybe not quite a year, but it had to be close. 

Was it nine or maybe ten months?

His brain came to a screeching halt, mid-swallow as he started calculating.

Beer spewed out of his mouth and nose as he tried to breathe and swallow at the same time. 

The nine months adds almost a year! *Cough* Meaning the kid’s age would make sense! *Cough Cough*

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! It can’t be true, can it? He… He’d used protection… hadn’t he?

His mind raced as he thought back to that night six years ago.

It was Izuku’s birthday and his girlfriend, future wife Melissa, rented out a small private Terence at a hotel to celebrate. It was small, maybe fifteen people max: just some friends, family, and a few colleges of the green-haired hero.

He was having a few drinks while chatting with Denki and Hanta when he first saw you. That was when he first saw you… You were chatting with your Melissa and Izuku, and damn… he couldn’t stop staring at you. You were so beautiful, and the way you tried to hide your angelic smile every time you laughed made his heart skip a beat. 

Eventually, his two friends figured out just what or who had caught his attention. Which brought on a relentless amount of teasing. It took about twenty minutes, a few beers, and an angry blonde for him to finally make his way over to you.

Katsuki, at some point, approached his childhood friend, then proceeded to yell at him for some reason or another. Even on his birthday, the guy couldn’t catch a break. Now that he thought about it, it was over something All Might related. Something about a suit and which version was from what era? You were looking rather uncomfortable (Melissa was used to this) at the aggressive (mainly Katsuki) debate. That’s where he came in. With the help of Ochaco and Melissa, he finally got the two distracted enough to send them to opposite corners of the party. 

And then, he was left all alone with you.

He was so nervous that he even stumbled through his own name. Luckily, he played off his nervousness by making light of his two friends. To his surprise, you took his jokes in stride and even had a few comebacks of your own. 

The two of you must have talked for over an hour! Just one conversation after another. He’d never met anyone like you before. You were just so loving, kind, and just… wow!

Then things start to get a little fuzzy.

He remembered talking, drinking, joking, more talking, and more drinking. 

A weird memory of a drunk Denki yelling, “I swear to drunk I’m not God!” before face planting into the punch bowl. 

Then while everyone’s attention was on Denki, the two of you snuck away and back to his room. 

A makeout session on the elevator leads to the two of you missing his floor and shocking an elderly housekeeping lady. That was embarrassing but didn’t seem to stop the two of you.

Then things get really, really blurry, but somehow the two of you made it back to his room without any other incidents. 

While the rest of his memories were bits and pieces, but he… did remember the most of the ‘activates,’ and it’d been consensual, and yeah… he’d definitely used protection! That much he remembered!

The next thing he knew, it was the next morning, where he woke up alone, with a hangover, and felt better than he had in awhile. 

Too bad that feeling didn’t get to last. His phone rang not long after he woke up. It’d been work, a villain was causing trouble, and they needed him asap. 

He showered, dressed, grabbed his stuff, and left. 

Then… he’d gotten hurt… bad…

Ended up in the hospital for nearly a week. 

After he got out, he, well, had an interesting voicemail and charge on his credit card.

He blushed hard as he remembered the hotel’s message regarding the ‘damages’ done to the room. In particular, the ones done to the sheets and headboard. They even sent him pictures!

Damn, he couldn’t believe he lost control of his quirk like that. He hadn’t done that since… well, since his ‘first time.’ That was so embarrassing. Thankfully, he didn’t think he’d hurt you in the process. Of all the pictures and list of damages, blood-stained sheets weren’t listed. Maybe that’s why he never worked up the courage to reach out to you. Even if he didn’t hurt you, he might have scared you...

Wait….

He lost control of his quirk.

Oh… OH SHIT! Realization dawned on him.

Even if he had put a condom on, his quirk might have damaged it!

Then that means… there is a chance he's the father of your son!

FFFFFUCCCCKK!!!!

But wait.

If he really was your son… why haven’t you contacted him?

His footsteps slowed until he came to a standstill.

You would have told him if he was, wouldn’t you?

Granted, the two of you never exchanged numbers, and we’ll it’s not like he did much to reach out to you either, but… You would have known he’s friends with Izuku, so you knew a way to contact him. 

Two-way street, buddy. He internally lashed himself.

Between racking his brain and scolding himself, he didn’t hear the knock on his door until the visitor started pounding. 

“Oi! Shifty hair! Answer the damn door!” A loud, brash voice that could only belong to one person yelled through the abused door.

Katsuki? Why was he here?

Kirishima hurried over to the door before the blonde got too impatient and blew it down… again. He took a deep breath and put on his brightest and cheerful grin before opening the door to greet his grumpy best friend. 

“Oh hey, Bakubro, what’s up?” 

“Don’t bro me! Why the hell am I getting called from your boss to check up on you?” He growled.

“Fat called you?” That was a surprise. 

“Yeah, he did. Had to switch my patrol around and everything.” He brushed past the redhead, letting himself in. Kirishima sighed as he shut the door behind them. 

“I’m really sorry about that. Not sure wh-”

“Don’t start that bullshit with me.” Those fierce red eyes locked on to him. “And drop that fake ass smile. Always hated when you did that shit.” He mutters.

Damn, Fat just had to go and call him of all people. 

If it’d been anyone else, anyone at all, he could play this off. A bright grin, crack a joke or two, maybe a few reassuring words, and he could send them on their way. 

But not him.  No, not Katsuki. Most people wouldn’t in a million years think the aggressive blonde could show anything other than anger. And yeah, the guy was rough around the edges, and he wasn’t the best with words. But nonetheless, here he was. 

And sometimes, that’s all that mattered.

Fuck. 

“So why am I here?” Katsuki wasn’t backing down, so Kirishima took a deep breath.

“What did Fat tell you?” While his smile didn’t waver, he felt his stomach belly flop to the floor. 

“Bastard would spill it, just said you’d need me right and to get over here. Now what the fuck is going on?” While he still sounded angry, there was an underline concern in his tone that most people tend to miss. 

Who would have known that would be the thing to make him crack? Well, obviously, Fatgum knew, hence why he sent the blonde over. The great explosive hero was one of the few people that could blow a hole right through his hardened armor. 

Both figuratively and literally.

With tears in his eyes, he dropped his bright grin and let the damn of emotion bust. He explained everything that had happened. The robbery, the hospital, you, your son, the night he first met you, the security footage, everything! Hell, he was sure he went into a little too much detail when he described you and that night.

The blonde just stood there shell shocked as he tried to absorb the word vomit hurled at him. 

“S-so, yeah… I might… have a…” he couldn’t finish. He just let the silence hang between them. 

“You… dumbass.” He sighed quietly, running his hand through his hair before looking him right in the eyes. While his best friend was known far and wide to have a temper, when shit got real, it was eerie how calm and focused he was. “Are you sure he’s your?”

“I-I don’t know. I mean-”

“Have you talked to the mother?”

“N-No!” 

“Have you talked to anyone about this?” He pressed. “Does anyone else think you’re the father?”

“No! Well, Fat might, but that’s cause he was with me when I put the piece together. But I haven’t told or asked anyone else about this. Honestly, other than the mother, I don’t even know who else to go-” The redhead piped up. Something flashed in his friend’s eyes, and for a moment, he looked like he was ready to commit murder. Fuck was he made? He hadn’t come to him about this yet!? Of course, he was! He was finding this out because his boss called him, not because he had called him! Some friend he is... “I was totally going to call you about this! I swear! You’re my best friend. This just happened so suddenly!”

“I know you would, Ei. Chill.” The blonde’s features soften for a second, soothing the redhead some. But he could tell Katsuki was trying to keep his temper in check. “I’m not mad at you but, I’ll ask again. Does anyone else know about this?”

“Honestly, I have no idea. I only found out about this today, and I haven’t had any contact with (Y/N) since the other day and well at Izuku’s birthday party.”

“Ok. Stay here for a bit. You need to calm down. We need more information first. If he isn’t your kid, you’re losing your shit for nothing. And if he is... well,” He paused, “Cross that bridge when you come to it.” He pushed the hero towards the couch and made him sit down. “I need to make a phone call.” 

Kirishima blinked as his best friend made his way towards his front door. “NOW SIT THERE. SHUT UP AND CALM DOWN!”

*SLAM*

This was a new level of anger for the blonde. He couldn’t stand seeing the redhead like this. He felt even worse, leaving him alone like this. The damn guy lived off socialization with others, so for him to be facing this alone. 

Yeah... it really pissed him off.

The blonde stomped his way back to his apartment, which was just a few doors down. He did need to make a phone call; he hadn’t been lying. But it was a call, that big, dense red rock didn’t need to hear. 

Fuck. He couldn’t believe this. Did shitty hair really have a kid? 

Katsuki made his way inside his home. The home he shared with not only his wife but his newborn daughter. 

Fuck. He has a kid… and he never even knew. 

As he made his way through the foyer and into the living room, something caught his eye. Something black, orange, green, and tiny laid on top of a basket of unfolded laundry. It was the custom design onesie Momo had gotten for their daughter as a baby shower gift. The custom design was made to look like his hero costume. While he scoffed at the thing initially, he made sure that she wore home from the hospital. 

Well, tried. About halfway through the hospital parking lot, she decided now was the best time to need a diaper and outfit change. 

Little brat. He smirked.

If you’d ask him a few years ago what he thought of kids, he would have brushed it off, not really caring about it. His hero career was his focus. He needed no had to be number one. 

But now that he has a little one of his own, he realized there was more to life than being number one. Was he still going to do it? You bet your ass, but now that he has his wife and his child that climb to the top well, he couldn’t dream of making it there without them. 

He couldn’t imagine a world without her. Let alone a world where he didn’t realize she existed.

He whipped out his phone and thumbed through his contacts.

Especially if someone knew about them. 

He took a deep breath and hit send.  

Someone close to not only the kid but himself. 

And still not tell him.

He knows. There’s no way in hell that precipitative little shit doesn’t know!

One ring. Two rings. Three rings.

“K-Kacchan. This is a surprise. You never call. Is everything-” Katsuki cut him off. 

“We need to talk. Now.” 

****

Links: Part 1,  Part 2 ,  Part 3, Part 4

Thanks for the read! If you want see the other stuff I’ve done, click the link bellow!

MasterList

Tags: @hot-pocket01 ,  @simpforeveryone , @remember-happy-things 

[zewninz]

Dialogue Prompts #1

(italic/bold-colored texts = different person)

1. I got arrested last night for being too handsome/beautiful. And you were released this morning for lack of evidence.

2. It costs $400 for a therapist, but it costs $0 to tell yourself, “it be like that sometimes.”

3. What goes up, but never goes down? I don’t know, *name*. Maybe the amount of stress you bring into my life?

4. I’m 72 different flavors of done with you.

5. Am I cool or what? What. I said— Oh, no, I heard you.

6. You can be 100% that bitch and still cry in the shower for 3 days a week. It's called balance.

7. I slept for more than twelve hours, but I might still be tired. So, let’s go for twelve more, just in case. *name*, that’s a coma. Sounds festive.

8. Sometimes, I shock myself with the smart stuff I say and do, then there are times I try to get out of the car with my seatbelts on.

9. Do you ever feel like you’re being watched? All the time. When you look this good, you have to get used to it.

10. Due to major personal flaws, I refuse to address I will be arriving four hours late with an iced coffee. Please respect that.

11. I’m *name*, and you are? Gayer than I thought, apparently.

12. Do it, you complete imbecile! . . . sorry, that didn’t come out as encouraging as I’d meant.

13. School doesn’t even test your intelligence, it tests your memory. It tests my ability to hold my pee. It tests my ability to keep calm and not slap a bitch.

14. I haven’t been this happy since . . . wow, I’ve never been happy, huh.

15. What does ‘etc.’ means? End of thinking capacity.

16. God, why is being alive so expensive? I’m not even having a good time!

17. I think I’m a disappointment to myself. Honey, that’s not true. You’re a disappointment to everyone.

18. If you don't stop singing 'Poker Face', I will make sure you have no fucking face.

19. ‘Oh, man’ is my go to when I’m disappointed. Why? Because men often disappoint me.

20. Why is there a picture of baby Mr. Bean in your bathroom?

21. *name*, why are you standing on the counter? I live here. I can stand wherever I want. . . . where’s the spider? Under my chair.

22. I'm either in the mood for fries or to rip someone's head off. Hmm, decisions, decisions.

23. Okay, I’m going to go to the store. If the sims that I trapped in a bedroom finally fall in love, text me immediately. . . . Yes, I know they look like us.

24. That's cute . . . You assume I have feelings.

25. You might just be the most annoying person I know. Might? There’s someone else?

26. A human heart costs 442.000 dollars and I fucking gave mine to you for free, you ungrateful bitch.

27. *name* I think you need to face some of your trauma— Trauma? Oh, you mean the reason why I’m fucking hilarious.

28. Sorry I left you on read. I didn't mean to open it.

29. You’re violent. Yeah, but I’m short, so it’s adorable.

30. Call me Dory, because I can't remember shit.

31. *name*, are you seeing anyone right now? No, why? I just think you’d benefit from seeing a theraphist or something.

32. Alexa, play 'despacito'.

33. You need to be nicer. I am nice. You threatened to stab *name*. I think giving them a warning was pretty nice of me.

34. I'm not a damsel in distress, I'm a damsel doing damage.

35. Oh, you’re *name*’s friend, right? I’m *name*. I— Look, man, you seem nice and all, but I already have three friends and I really can’t handle any more.

36. Move, I have to go fail my math test before I can go home and cry into a bag of hot cheetos while I rewatch Brooklyn Nine-Nine.

37. I’m not sleeping with *name*. I mean, I wouldn’t blame you. They’re hot, and cute too, and has really nice— I’m not sleeping with them, but I’m starting to think YOU are.

38. Hey, Google, what the fuck?

39. Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? *name*, I— Thou art hot as fuck.

40. I often worry about the mental state and sanity of you all.

41. I hope you realize this kind of idiocy will not be tolerated— Is there another kind of idiocy you’d be more comfortable with?

42. Your cat’s a fucking dumbass.

43. Well, you know I’m bi— !!! —lingual. I speak English and *language* . . . and I like *same gender*.

44. Everything I like is either expensive, illegal, or doesn't text back.

45. *name*, aren’t you gay? That implies I’ve done something heterosexual. If so, I apologize.

46. I know I call you ‘bro’ all the time, but I lowkey want to marry you.

47. Where are you going? To either get ice cream or commit a felony. I’ll decide in the car.

48. All due respect, but that's a bunch of crap.

49. Can you answer this question without the usual level of sarcasm? If you can ask it without the usual level of stupidity.

50. I won’t beg for *name*’s hand in marriage. I’ll just ask 53 times, that’s it.

(I don’t own any of these. Credit to their respective creators. I simply made a list.)

[oohnoniall]

A Court of Fire & Ice {Tamlin x OC} - Chapter 6

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4 

Chapter 5

Warnings: Tamlin is being portrayed as he is in ACOMAF and ACOWAR. Trigger warnings include fantasy violence, misogyny, swearing, and Tamlin being an uncontrollable rage beast (no domestic violence !!)

 She was in his arms when he woke the next morning. The storm had passed, leaving nothing more than a light condensation on the windows of his bedroom. The light was distorted as it came through the window, hitting Lyriel almost perfectly. She was asleep, perhaps for the first time since she had come to the Spring Court. Her brow was smoothed, her fingers clenching around the blankets as though they were a hilt of some sort.

        Tamlin's heart ached as he took in the gentle slope of her nose. He tried not to focus on her lips and the gentle way they were parted, her breath coming out in the softest snores. Mother above he did not need this.

        Slowly, he untangled himself from her. He did not know when he had begun holding her. Perhaps sometime after the storm had passed. He wished he knew. He wished he could remember how it had felt to first wrap his arms around her. At least then he would have that memory. He would have been able to think on it when she eventually found someone better.

        Even if he kept her in the Spring Court, he was certain she would find someone else. Someone who would spar with her, who would laugh with her, who would give up a mating bond for her. She deserved that. Even if he would want to kill whoever tried to get close to her.

        It wasn't fair. He knew it. He knew that he was holding her to a different standard. There was no excuse for it. Maybe if he was a better man there would be. Yet, he was anything but a better man. It seemed as though the whole world was right about one thing. Tamlin was a bastard. A brute. Someone who would trap their mate and marry another woman

        Wouldn't his father be proud?

        The thought made him sick. He had to shove it down, shove everything down as far as he could as he began to ready himself for the day ahead. He did it as quietly as he could. The last thing he wanted to do was wake Lyriel. She needed more sleep. He didn't know if she would take it well should he actually tell her that.

        From what he knew, Lyriel didn't take most things well. At least if they came from him. He had no idea how she reacted around other people. Maybe he just antagonized her. Or it was her way of fighting back against the bond that neither of them truly wanted.

        She shifted, a soft grunt escaping her. A shiver went through him at the sound. 

        Mother save him. He knew that he should just leave her there. That he should not think of what other sounds might come from her throat. How he could make them. 

        Tamlin quickly finished strapping on his bandolier before he slipped from the room. He willed himself to not return to that bed. To stay as far from her as he could. He worried that her scent would be all over him. Worried that Feyre would be able to scent it. It had been a mistake. But not one that he could find himself regretting.

        This whole thing was a mess. One that Tamlin had never foreseen. He had always assumed that he would never find his mate. He had thought the Mother would be cruel in letting him go his entire life without that bond. He had gotten over it. 

        It seemed that she was cruel in another way. 

        Tamlin huffed softly as he shoved open the door to his office. He hated to hide himself away, but it was the only thing he could do. After Amarantha had been dealt with, his lands had cleared of the beasts roaming them. Now, he was focusing more on rebuilding villages and his lords' lands. 

        Occasionally, he would find something prowling. It was easily dealt with most of the time. That or he would have to go and deal with one of his lords. They had been more of a nuisance than he had ever imagined. He had assumed they would be supportive, especially after the hell they'd been through for forty-nine years. Yet, it appeared as though all of them wished to see him fail.

        Tamlin did not have many supporters.

        "I was wondering when you'd show up," Ianthe stated as she looked over at him. She was sat in front of his desk, a languid smile on her face as she took in the room. "I hope you slept for once. The Spring Court needs you at your best."

        He hid his irritation as best he could. He hated to show Ianthe when he was displeased with her. He wouldn't risk losing his High Priestess. Not when the Spring Court needed her now more than ever. Yet, it did feel far too early in the morning to be dealing with her and her schemes.

        "Good morning, Ianthe," he said lamely. He sat down at his desk, not bothering to ask why she was there. She had a habit of telling him before he could say a word.

        "I've already written up the letter to Kallias," she seemed too eager. There was no reason for her to hate Lyriel. Not that he was aware of at least.

        She hadn't found out the truth, had she? 

        "It won't be necessary," Tamlin cursed himself for how quickly he'd said it. "Lyriel and I spent last night speaking about her actions. We'll be seeing a different side of her."

        They wouldn't. But the lie had slipped from his lips as easily as a breath. Perhaps he should ask her to keep up appearances, to keep from bringing too much attention to herself. However, he was almost certain that this would just make it worse. 

        "I suppose that's why her scent is all over you?" Ianthe's eyes darkened, the look making her look less beautiful and more like a vengeful spirit of some sort. He would not say it but it did scare him just a bit.

        His fingers curled around the arms of his chairs. His claws biting at the skin. "It was a long conversation."

        "Tamlin, if you've fucked the girl it's just another reason for us to be rid of her." 

        "I haven't laid a finger on her." It didn't matter that he wanted to. It didn't matter that she haunted his thoughts in the late hours of the night. He would never hurt Feyre in that way. Would never hurt anyone by betraying their trust like that. He was a monster but he was not cruel.

        "Of course you haven't," Ianthe sat forward, her eyes twinkling in a predatory way. "I won't judge you for having needs, Tamlin. But you might think of the Cursebreaker."

        His spine straightened as he realized just what she was doing. He knew that Ianthe had her ways. That she plotted and manipulated things. But he had never expected her to go after him. He had always assumed that she would use it for him. 

        "I think of Feyre constantly. Mind your tongue, Ianthe. I've done nothing wrong." Tamlin's claws slipped from the skin, causing him to nearly wince. Contrary to popular belief, he felt the pain that came with losing control. He did not do it for fun. Even if the world thought it was something he had fun with. The world was quite wrong about most things that had to do with Tamlin.

        The door burst open before she had a chance to respond. Lucien stood in the doorway, a letter clenched in his hands and an easy grin on his lips. 

        "Tam, you're going to want to hear this," he stopped once he noticed that Ianthe was there. His easy grin slipped from his face, a tension coming to him that Tamlin had not noticed before. He wondered if he could sense the tension in the room or if Ianthe just bothered him that much. He knew which he assumed it was. But that didn't often mean that he was right.

        "Ianthe, we'll discuss this later," he told the priestess without a glance. She was going to threaten him? He would show her exactly who she was dealing with. He had been known to be petty on occasion. 

        Ianthe bristled but she stood nonetheless. "Of course," was all she said before she slipped out of the room. She sent a glare his way before disappearing down the hallways. He just had to hope that she would not be going to find Feyre. Not now. Not ever.

        He would rather die than hurt her. Knowing he spent the night with Lyriel? It didn't matter the context, it would hurt her.

        "What is it Lucien?" He asked as his friend stepped into the room, shutting and latching the door behind him. Lucien sank into the chair that Ianthe had vacated, tossing the letter onto the desk.

        "We've received word from Cari," Lucien never used the woman's full name. If Tamlin hadn't of known better, he would've assumed that he was sweet on her. "Rhysand has shockingly not said a damned word about his plans. But she does know something about Azriel."

        Tamlin's brow rose as he picked up the letter. It was coded. The words were written in the small footprints of her green finch. She and Lucien had spent weeks with the creature devising the code. Tamlin had never really gotten his head around it. But his spymaster had been too proud of it for him to tell her to change it.

        "What exactly does she know?" 

        "Besides the fact that he doesn't want a mate unless it's Morrigan?" Lucien began to smirk slightly as he watched Tamlin. "Well, apparently the shadowsinger has been watching the human realms. According to Cari, he's spending more of his time there than at the Night Court. It makes you wonder what exactly they're doing over there."

        A soft sigh escaped Tamlin's lips. "That doesn't tell us anything! Just that the Night Court is interested in another Feyre," he wasn't completely certain that was the case. However, there was something that told him it wasn't.

        There was something else going on. Something that he was unsure if he wanted to know. He knew that Prythian was not safe. Hybern would surely send another monster to their shores. War would come sooner or later. They could not just sit around and wait for it. 

        Despite knowing this, Tamlin knew that he would try to ignore the signs as long as possible. They had already been through too much. He didn't think he could stand going through all of it again. He couldn't stand putting his people through hell after telling them that it was over.

        He had lied to so many people in his life. What was a lie to protect them? 

        "Or that something's coming and we need to prepare for it," Lucien pointed out with a soft sigh. "Besides, we all know that there's no one that could replace Feyre. She's unique."

        That was one word for it. Tamlin knew she was better than unique. She was ... Perfection. Everything that he had ever wanted. Someone who was actually worthy of him and of being the wife of a High Lord. Feyre was everything to him. She was the one person that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

        Still, the news about the Night Court was distressing. He began to pace the room, his fingers twitching towards the knives on his bandolier. He didn't think about how he had seen Lyriel do the same thing. Her fingers constantly itching for a blade when she was concentrating. He didn't think about it because he had not truly realized they did the same thing. Why would he when his mind was constantly elsewhere?

        "Should we send scouts to the human realms?" He questioned, speaking more to himself than Lucien. "They might think we have another curse if we do. Fuck."

        His head tilted back, golden hair falling just to the middle of his back. He wondered how in the hell he was going to get anyone to understand the stresses. How was he going to deal with managing the blunderings of the Night Court as well as his feelings for a certain Winter Court soldier and his upcoming nuptials? It was all too much for any man. He didn't think anyone would have dealt with this nearly as well as he had.

        But considering he spent most of his nights sleeping as a beast at the foot of Feyre's bed, that wasn't saying much.

        Something had to give. It had to be soon. Otherwise, he was destined to run the Spring Court into ruin. The thought alone made him want to be sick.

        "I need to think," he announced. Lucien nodded his head, understanding clear on his face. That was the one good thing about Lucien. He always seemed to understand Tamlin. He knew that sometimes it was just better to let the beast wander off on his own. It was better to keep away from him. To give him space and time.

        He slipped out of his office, his fingers gripping the hilt of one of the knives strapped to his chest. He missed the days when he didn't have to keep his knives close. He missed when he could travel his court with nothing more than his fiddle. He missed writing about the beauty of his lands, of witnessing a child's smile when they heard his music. He doubted he would ever get a chance to experience that again. 

        Soft words escaped his lips as he walked out of Rosehall. He had never been a mumbler until becoming the High Lord. When problems became too much, he was either prone to letting the beast out or talking to himself. One was definitely a bit healthier than the other. Even if he wasn't sure which it was at times.

        Tamlin hardly paid attention to his surroundings as he walked. His feet taking him in the direction that he needed to go. His mind too distracted by whatever it was the Night Court was planning. None of it made sense. Why were they so focused on the human realms? Why was his spymaster so worried about the whole thing? Why did he want to question everything and not leave this whole mess up to Lucien and Cariaru? That should've been his go-to. He should've been focused on the wedding and getting rid of these feelings he had for Lyriel.

        The Night Court really did have to ruin everything. Didn't they?

        He strolled into the maze of roses. It was not the ones his father had given his mother but something she had done herself. She had taken him to the maze at the northeast corner of the grounds often as a child. They'd played for hours while his father trained his brothers.

        He missed her most of all. He knew that it was shitty and that he shouldn't have missed one of his family members more than the others. But he did. His mother had been the only one who had ever seen him and cared. The only one who had wanted the best for him. Maybe that was why it hurt the most that she was gone.

        The scent of roses had once been overwhelming to him. He had thought that it would one day drown him. That he would die by an overwhelming amount of roses. They had wound up in his nightmares. But now ... Now they calmed him. Now he realized they were more of a birthright than anything to ever be afraid of.

        He sank down on a stone bench that was still slightly damp from the storm that had ravaged them last night. He didn't mind it. The chill bit into him and kept him thinking critically about what was happening.

        He rested his elbows on his knees, his forefingers resting on his top lip to keep himself from speaking anymore. The wind blew through his hair, his eyes fluttering to a close. He would figure this out. Somehow, he would figure this out.

        The human queens had to have something to do with this. Maybe Azriel hadn't told Cariaru yet. They had only known her for a few months. It wasn't long enough for her to gain their trust. Soon though, she would be able to give them the information they required. Soon Tamlin would know exactly what was happening beyond his borders. At least, he hoped so. 

        Soft footsteps sounded behind him. The restless energy that had been building in him suddenly ceased. Whoever was approaching him would find that sneaking up on the High Lord of Spring was one of the stupidest decisions that one could ever make. 

        "Tamlin," her voice was soft, soothing his soul more than anything else ever had. What he wouldn't give to hear her say her name a thousand times. His name had never sounded like a song before. But Feyre made it sound so beautiful that he wanted to cry.

        "Feyre," he turned his head towards her. He tried to smile, tried to make her feel as though everything was fine. That he was at ease. Yet, would he ever be at ease? He had no hopes of understanding the Night Court. Nor did he know how he was supposed to marry Feyre when it felt as though everything was quickly beginning to change. It was a mess that he did not quite know what to do about. "What are you doing out here?"

        "I needed some fresh air," she admitted as she sat down beside him on the bench. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her close. He wanted nothing more than to keep her close for the rest of his life.

        At least then he would be able to protect her. He needed to protect her.

        "You didn't come to bed last night." He stiffened at that. Ianthe had been able to smell Lyriel on him. Would Feyre? Had she been able to figure out different scents yet? He didn't know but he hoped that she hadn't. Hoped that she was still so confused about that and everything else that came with being a High Fae.

        He felt like the world's shittiest person just for thinking it.

        "I had work to attend to. Nothing serious," he added quickly. "Just precautions. I don't want anything ruining our wedding."

        He tried to ignore the grimace that flashed across her expression. He had been trying to ignore the fact that whatever bond that had once been between them was quickly evaporating. He no longer felt that strong pull towards her. He knew that she avoided him as much as he avoided her. But he was fighting every single day to get that spark back. Maybe this whole thing was Lyriel's fault. Maybe they both just needed some time apart. Time to just process all that they had been through. All that they continued to go through.

        But if she was away from him he would be unable to protect her. Who knew what the other High Lords would do if they found out anything about Feyre. He was keeping her as safe as he possibly could by keeping her contained.

        He just didn't know that it was slowly killing her. He didn't want to know.

        "Are you alright? You look like you haven't slept in days," he said, his green eyes almost glowing with the concern that he felt for her.

        Feyre nodded her head, sheets of golden brown hair falling around her. "I'm fine, Tam. Just ... Just concerned with how fast everything's been happening."

        He could understand that. Could understand how frustrating the whole thing must have been. She had died, been brought back, and was now about to marry him. It had been a long few months. A long time that had somehow not been long enough. He wished he could have done more to help ease her into the whole thing. Wished that they could put off the wedding longer. However, he thought it would be the best way to put all the horrible shit behind him.

        Behind them.

        Feyre deserved to not worry about any of this. Not to worry about Amarantha or Hybern or any of it. She had done enough. She deserved to rest. 

        "We'll get through it," he promised her as he gently took her by the hand. "We always do."

        Her hand felt stiff and cold in his. It felt more like the hand of a corpse than of the woman that he loved. What had changed between them? Had they been through too much? Could they ever go back to what they had been? They deserved a happily ever after. He had been her fairytale prince. She had been his knight in shining armor. They were done now. They could sit back and rest without worrying about any of it.

        Yet they were broken. Perhaps they always had been. Two broken people who had tried to make each other whole. It just wasn't working this time.

        They had been broken down beyond repair. Tamlin just could not see it. He could not begin to let her go.

[fangirlovestuff]

Cycle - Steve Rogers x reader ch.5

Previously:  ch.1 ch.2 ch.3 ch.4

Summary: The morning after, you quietly left. The days after, you were constantly screwing up. Will you stop thinking about Steve, or maybe you won’t need to?

Word Count: ~2,300

Warnings: explicit language, brief mentions of smut

a/n- hey lovely people! and just like that, another Steve series had come to an end. I had a lot of fun writing this series, and thank you so much to everyone who gave me feedback on it, it’s super appreciated! italics are for thoughts and divider is by @whimsicalrogers​. Enjoy!<3

The next morning you surprisingly woke up before Steve did, and used this opportunity to sneak out of his apartment, going back to your place to change before you had to be at work again.

On the way home, all kinds of thoughts flooded your mind, starting with should I have left a note? And all the way to this was the biggest fucking mistake ever, why didn't I try to resist it more, now everyone's gonna say I'm a slut, and they'll be right.

But amidst that rose the memories of last night, of the feeling of Steve surrounding you, his hot breath against your skin, falling asleep in his arms. And you knew, if you had a time machine, no matter how much you're overthinking this now – you'd do it again.

The realization caused you to shake out of your reverie, breathing out a shaky breath and looking around the street to ground yourself a little.

Nothing was gonna happen, it's all gonna be okay, and even if Steve will never talk to me again, he'll still respect what we agreed on, you calmed yourself down as you entered your apartment, getting ready for another day.

Steve entered the training room, his thoughts still wandering to the events of last night. When he woke up this morning, you were already gone, but his amplified senses could still pick up on the scent of your perfume on the sheets next to him. He understood why you did it. He was old, but he still understood the social conventions of hooking up, and he knew what it meant when he agreed. But there was still a part of him that hoped to wake up and see your face. Maybe even get a chance to see you fall apart under him once more.

He shook those thoughts away. This is what you wanted, and he should respect it. this is when your paths part. For some reason, he felt sadder than he probably should've been. And yet, he couldn't help but feel a sense of smugness at the events of last night.

When he put his bag down he was greeted by a friendly slap on his shoulder. Smirking, he immediately turned around, catching onto the arm and tossing the "attacker" onto the floor. Sam sighed and rolled his eyes. "You knew it was me, man," he complained as Steve extended his hand to him and he got up.

"Always be ready," Steve shrugged and moved towards the middle of the mattress-covered floor. Sam narrowed his eyes towards Steve and followed him, standing in front of him and getting into position.

"You seem to be in an awfully good mood," Sam remarked. "Any reason why?"

"You, Sam," Steve said in mock emotion, "You are my sun and stars, and getting to see you this morning is the abso—"

Sam charged at Steve, but the latter quickly dodged his punch and kicked his leg, making Sam lose his balance and fall down for the second time that morning.

Steve chuckled. "Relax, Wilson," he said, "a little sarcasm hasn't killed anyone yet, and I for one don't want that to change."

Sam's face lit up with understanding. "You finally did it you bastard! You got laid! Who was it?"

Steve couldn't keep his face from blushing. Was he really being that obvious?  "None of your business. Besides, it was a one-night thing anyway," he shrugged, trying to regain his composure.

"Hey, if you don't wanna tell me, I'm fine with that. But when Barnes gets his hands on you…" Sam grinned.

Steve groaned. "Fuck," he whispered under his breath, fully knowing if Sam managed to figure it out, Bucky would too. "That's a problem for later," he shook his head. "For now, I think you need a refresher on balance," he raised his brow at Sam.

"Whatever," Sam scoffed, "fucking super soldiers," he grumbled while he got into position once more.

It's been five days since you last talked to Steve. Not that you were counting or anything. Five days of making a complete fool out of yourself were just kind of a lot.

The first day you thought you had it under control. Even though last night didn't involve as much sleep, you drank some coffee and figured it would be okay. You started daydreaming and nearly fell asleep, leaving your mixture to cool for too long, noticing it only when Kate tapped your shoulder to get your attention and having to start it all over again.

Well, the first day should be the worst and then it'll be fine right?

The second day you were thinking about whether you should text Steve or not while you were diluting a solution you were working on, but got the different concentrations confused and needed to start again, costing you more time and materials.

The third day you thought it would surely stop. After that day you needed to get a new fire extinguisher for the lab.

The fourth was Saturday, so thankfully you didn't have opportunities to embarrass yourself anymore, right?

Except you went out with your friends, got drunk and told them that you slept with this "super" cute guy and how everyone hates you now because you mess everything up. They calmed you down and comforted you at the moment, but they also got that on video and god knows you're never living that one down.

Thankfully, drunk me was still smart enough not to tell them who it was, you mused as you watched the video, your head pounding on Sunday, the fifth day since you had last spoken to Steve Rogers.

Which brings us here, Monday morning, five days after That Night.

You entered the office, setting down your bag and going over some paperwork when Kate knocked on your door.

"Hi! Come in," you greeted her with a smile.

"Good morning," she smiled back. "Listen, I wanted to talk to you. I don't want to overstep, but you've seemed a little… distracted, these last few days, and I was wondering why? I mean, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, obviously, but if it could help you…" she trailed off, a little awkwardly.

You sighed. "No, it's okay, I should probably give at least a little explanation for my actions. But you're gonna think it's stupid," you warned with a smile. She nodded at you to go on anyway.

You wondered how you should phrase it. "Well, I guess I've been trying not to date for a while, to focus on my career here, you know. But a few days ago I went on a date with this guy and it was wonderful, but I haven't talked to him and he didn't talk to me and I'm just… wondering if I should try to change that," you said. That was close enough to the truth.

Kate pondered what you said for a moment and then spoke. "The way I see it," she said, "you need closure. Just try to talk to him. If something comes out of it, great, if he doesn't answer, that's still fine. Either way you're better off knowing, because if the last few days are any indication, I'd say you feel very bad not knowing," she said with a teasing smile.

"Maybe you're right," you smiled. "Anyways, I'm really sorry for the last few days. But it won't happen today. At least I'm pretty sure it won't happen today," you added with a chuckle. "I'll join you in the lab in a few minutes," you smiled at her and she nodded and left.

Much like you, Steve also wasn't having a great time.

That first day he ended up seeing Bucky, which earned him pestering for the rest of the day, but he adamantly refused to reveal your identity even to Bucky.

"C'mon Buck," Steve rolled his eyes. "I'm not telling you. That's it."

"That means it's someone I know! Oh, is it – "

"Lalalala, I can't hear anything you're saying," Steve reverted to the childish method and put his hands over his ears.

"Fine, sheesh. You gonna see her again at least?" Bucky asked.

"I don't know," Steve said with a sigh.

Steve's smugness only lasted the first day, and the rest of them were filled with increasing disappointment.

The second day Bucky managed to hit him in the face with his metal arm because he wasn't paying enough attention.

The third they had a briefing for a coming up mission, and Steve nearly fell from his chair at the sound of his phone beeping, thinking it could be you.

Saturday and Sunday were spent alone in his apartment, finishing the painting of the skyline and ignoring Sam's and Bucky's texts. When he finished the painting he was so tempted to ask Bucky for your phone number and send you a picture of it, but he figured that would be weird. Instead, he started another painting, and without even noticing he started sketching your face. Way to go Rogers, you managed to be weird anyway, he thought and threw away the sketch.

When he came to work Monday, he thought he got over the whole deal.

Sam greeted him at the training room, ready for another mission. "You alright Rogers?" he asked.

"Oh yeah, my phone was just turned off," Steve shrugged, thinking Sam was wondering why he was… how do they say it? ghosting him?

"I didn't mean this weekend," Sam said, "how did you let Barns get you that good last week?"

"I guess I was just distracted," Steve shrugged, getting in position.

"You never get distracted," Sam stated, "you are literally the most prim and proper person I know. That one time Bucky and I argued for an hour next to you, and you didn't even notice, what's up?"

"That's not true, I did notice, I just ign-"

"See, that's a lie, because if you actually got distracted by what we were doing while you worked you would've asked which time I was talking about," Sam smirked.

"Whatever," Steve rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face.

"So, who's getting you so distracted? Was it mystery girl?"

"Um, yeah," Steve chuckled. "Look, it doesn't really matter right now, we should –"

"I knew it!" Sam laughed, "you just can't do one-night-stands, can you?"

"I-" Steve trailed off.

"Look man, it's just who you are. Go talk to her," Sam said.

"Maybe," Steve said, and then, without warning, made a blow at Sam that he managed to avoid.

"Always be prepared, right?" Sam said, a smug smile on his face.

"Right," Steve answered, smiling.

You were just packing up in your office, ready to go home. Thankfully, today had been free of awkward mistakes.

There was a knock at your door and you called them to come in, thinking it could be Kate, but in front of you was standing, causing you a serious Deja-vu, Steve. I spoke too soon didn't I?

"Hey," he said, scratching his neck.

"Hi," you whispered unintentionally. You cleared your throat and asked in a stronger voice, "Uh, can I help you?"

"Well, yeah," Steve said. "I wanted to ask… will you listen until the end of what I'm about to say?" he smiled and chuckled awkwardly.

"Sure," you frowned a little and came to stand in front of him.

"I was kind of… making a fool of myself the last few days. Not calling you was the main foolish thing but also, Bucky hit me in the face because I was thinking about calling you," he grimaced. "And… I know we agreed about no strings attached, but I can't stop thinking about you. In a non-creepy way," he quickly added with another awkward chuckle. "So, I wanted to ask if maybe you'd like to attach the strings?" he smiled. "Go on a date sometime? Obviously, I get it if you say no, but I just really wanted to ask. So, yeah," he looked away at the bookshelves surrounding you.

You gladly refrained from telling him about the times you’ve made a fool of yourself those days. "Yes, I'd love to go on a date sometime," you smiled and put your hand on his cheek, drawing his gaze towards yours. His face lit up with a smile, and then he was kissing you. It was the kind of kisses that left you breathless, the kind of kisses you felt like you could live on. Maybe even a true love's kiss.

"It's probably because you had a really good teacher. I mean, with that level of game, how could I say no?" you smiled.

"Probably," Steve agreed with a soft smile.

You couldn't contain yourself and kissed him again, cupping his face in your hands while his large hands were placed on your waist, drawing you close.

"Pay up, Barnes," Sam said smugly.

"No way! Look, what if the mystery girl is-"

Bucky trails off and smirks once he sees the two people who are walking through the lobby, where he and Sam were standing. Sam turns around and sees what he sees – You and Steve, walking hand in hand, giving each other total heart eyes. Steve raises your connected palms and kisses the back of your hand.

"Shit," Sam said under his breath.

"Pay up, birdman!" Bucky said with a shit-eating grin.

It's funny how life works. Right when you decide to stray clear of men, it brings you the sweetest one you've ever met, and you can't resist his baby blue eyes, looking at you so adoringly. Once you decide to be a little more of a player, change to get what you want, it brings you the most beautiful woman who doesn't need you to change at all.

In this case, opposites definitely attract. Together, they can achieve the most beautiful thing in the world – love.

and the curtain goes down on another Steve series. Thank you so much for reading, ily<3

Taglist:  @horny-nd-bored​ @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds​ @wintersoldierslut​ @iceebabies​  @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree​ @kaitcordx25 @bequeening​ @steve-barry-damon-logan​ @itscrazycherryblossomcollection​ @hollandxmarvel​ @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000

Cycle Taglist: @dee-vn @alex747 @itsangelpie-supports

if you wanna join / be removed from these taglists, comment/message me! much love <3

[meowmerson]

Can you write a Tomione doctor AU? I’ve always thought it would be really cute if they were surgeons.

perhaps…………………a nurse/patient AU????????????? :)

(only because i was trying to think of a story for doctor tomione but my brain kept going back to this so i hope its ok, if it s not you can send me another ask DEMANDING A SURGEON AU and i promise i will brainstorm an idea)

(also uh im sorry i made it really long)

–

It’s the tail end of the night shift when she sees him, although the first time is fleeting. Fleeting, but not irrelevant. 

He’s flanked by six guards from the prison. He looks like he’s in pain, and quite a lot of it. He’s wheeled in on a hospital bed to room 119 and she watches from the reception desk as he and his entourage of prison guards pass her by in almost slow motion. 

“What timing,” Lavender said with a cheeky grin, “Your shift just ended. You’ll miss out on all the fun.”

“Your idea of fun,” Hermione corrected, completing her chart for the night, “My idea of fun involves going home, having breakfast with my daughter, taking her to school, and going to sleep,” She put her pen down and smiled in the face of Lavender’s pout, “But enjoy the day shift with the clearly dangerous criminal.”

“Tell Rose I said hi,” Lavender said. 

Hermione went home and did exactly as she said she would. She paid the babysitter, laid down in Rose’s bed for a moment before gently waking her. She smiled at her 3-year-old daughter across bowls of cheerios and listened to her talk about what she dreamt about the night before. Then she dressed Rose, brought her to pre-school, kissed her goodbye, and returned home. She fell asleep in her scrubs, and didn’t dream about the man flanked by prison guards. 

–

Hermione worked nights for a few reasons. The biggest one was the amount of time she got to spend with her daughter - she could always skimp on sleep to spend more time with Rose, but she couldn’t exactly skip work, and if she only worked while Rose was sleeping (save for a few precious hours at night) it meant she would never need to miss a school play, a birthday party, pancakes on sundays, or pillow forts in their living room. She could see all of that. 

Nights were quieter too. No visitors, some patients slept but some didn’t, Lavender only worked day shifts so Hermione only ever saw her for an hour at most if their shifts overlapped which was about as much of Lavender as she could take. And no visitors, god Hermione hated visitors. 

She worked 3 nights a week, sometimes 4 if she needed the money and they had an overtime shift for her. She was always tired, always a bit stressed, and her hair had never looked worse than it did in motherhood, but it was all worth it for the time she got to spend with her daughter. 

She had to remember that, when she had nights like this one. 

“Apparently he hasn’t urinated in a week,” Neville said, “He had a pretty severe blatter infection and sepsis but is steadily getting better,”

“Why hadn’t he urinated?” Hermione asked, and Neville shrugged. 

“They think it might be an escape plan, so uh,” he none-too-subtly leaned to the side to peer at the guards outside room 119, “They’re keeping an eye on him.”

“How is he?” She asked.

“Horrible,” He answered, “Right bastard, gave Lavender hell all day on his first day in, didn’t sleep all night, then we gave him to Minerva–”

“Well, surely she set him straight,” Hermione interjected.

Neville laughed, but there was no humor in it, “Yeah well, she handled it fine, but she also said if we give him to her as a patient again she’s going to retire.”

“Shit,” Hermione sighed. She thought of Rose, asleep in her bed and thought of seeing her in the morning and waking her up for breakfast, “So naturally you give him to me.”

“Well,” He shrugged, looking sheepish, “It was either you or me, so…”

“So you sweet-talked the charge nurse into giving you an easy night?” Hermione quirked a brow and Neville just grinned. Hermione sighed, picked up the chart, and turned to face Room 119. 

There were only two guards now, not six, and they nodded at her as she entered. 

Tom Riddle sat on the bed in a room of his own, he looked pale, with dark circles under his eyes, and he fixed his eyes disconcertingly on her the moment she stepped through the door. 

“My name is Hermione,” She said, putting gloves on at the door, “I’ll be your nurse tonight.”

“Is that so?” He asked. His voice was deep, but gravelly. He must be exhausted, she thought, if he truly hadn’t slept since he arrived. 

“How are you feeling?” She asked, but before he could answer she added, “I hear you haven’t slept since–”

“How can I sleep?” He cut her off, “Sitting in a hospital bed with a new nurse every few hours asking me the same inane questions?”

Hermione paused, observed him for a moment. She had dealt with plenty of difficult patients, was used to biting her tongue and slapping a smile on her face. He kept staring at her with dark eyes, his jaw clenched, and she knew what she was in for. 

“Well, Mr. Riddle,” Hermione said with a smile, “I will endeavor not to ask the same inane questions, then.” She stepped closer, made a vague gesture in his direction and asked, “May I?”

He was receiving fluids, antibiotics, seemed stable, she just needed to check his blood pressure to be sure. The fact that he obviously hadn’t slept wasn’t a good sign and certainly wouldn’t help in his recovery. He nodded once, tersely, and she glanced back at the guards at the door. 

“Is it because of the guards that you won’t sleep?” She asked as she took his blood pressure. His brow twitched, but he didn’t look away from her face.

“If I said yes, would you take them away?” He asked her. She looked up from her work to meet his eye and tried to figure out if he was making a joke. 

Either way she laughed, shook her head, and said, “I think we would both love that, but no, unfortunately not.”

His blood pressure was low, but according to his chart improving. It would probably help if he slept. She met his gaze, he was still watching her. “Your blood pressure is low.” She told him, “You should sleep.”

“I should sleep?” He echoed, his brow rose like he was talking down to a child, “Close my eyes, and dream?” He looked almost crazed, she thought. She wasn’t sure if that was the lack of sleep, the time he spent in prison, or maybe it was just who he was. Either way, she didn’t move - it was always better not to react when a patient became angry. “Let the medication take effect, while the rest of you skirt around me like an animal in cage–”

“Sir–” She interjected, but he spoke over her. 

“While men with guns fantasize about the possibility of turning those very guns on me while I sleep and while I continue to be denied visitors that I would typically be allowed to see simply because I am unwell–” She sighed and made to move away as he worked himself up, but he grabbed her arm. She met his eyes again “–Don’t pretend to be concerned for my health, nurse,” He spat, “Shut your mouth, treat me, and keep your inane thoughts to yourself, lest I lose my temper.”

“Hey!” A guard from the door called, took a step into the room. Hermione held out a hand to stop him, “Miss–” 

“Please let me do my job!” She said, turning to hold a hand out more firmly against the guard at the door. He hesitated, shifted his weight on his feet. “Return to your post, please.”

The guard very pointedly looked at the place where Mr. Riddle’s hand was on her arm. Hermione looked at that same hand, then back at the guard, and she hoped she was communicating every ounce of annoyance she felt in that stare.

The guard returned to his post. 

Hermione’s gently pried Tom Riddle’s fingers from her arm. “It was merely a suggestion,” She said and met his eyes with a smile, “Stay awake if you wish.”

He was stable, so she turned to leave the room. The guard stopped her at the door. “Hey, uh–” He said, glancing into the room and back at her, “Could I get a sandwich?”

She looked him up and down. 

“It’s just, we’ve been here all day, I’m pretty hungry.”

“No,” She snapped, “We don’t give sandwiches to the guards, they’re for the patients.”

“Well, he’s not going to eat it.” He said, gesturing toward Room 119 with his head. Hermione, taken aback, glanced into the room and saw Mr. Riddle’s eyes fixed on her before she looks back at the guard.

“Don’t ask me again,” She said, and walked away. 

–

That night, she had Mr. Riddle with the temper and the armed guards, Mrs. Sprout with the lovely disposition recovering from a severe allergic reaction, and Mr. Crouch the drug seeker in the hospital for a broken leg who wouldn’t stop screaming for opiates, and Mr. Riddle’s stupid fucking guard who kept asking her for sandwiches.

It was a long night. 

“What is he in for, anyway?” Padma asked, looking toward Hermione for an answer. She didn’t have to specify who - obviously she meant the one with the guards. Hermione shrugged - she really didn’t know.

“Like everything.” Neville said, pouring himself a coffee while Padma patiently awaited her cup. “He’s in jail for life for everything from selling weed to killing people and chopping them up.”

“No way,” Padma said.

“Yes way,” Neville took a sip from his coffee and shrugged, “You heard about him - he went by Voldemort.”

Padma gasped, turned and faced Hermione with wide eyes and a wide-open mouth, “Hermione, you’re treating Voldemort,”

“I’m treating a very irritable prison patient” Hermione corrected, “And not for the first time.”

“He was all over the news last year!” Padma said, clearly distressed, “He’s crazy - and I heard he didn’t piss for a week to be sent here, this is probably all his plan or–”

“Padma, drop it.” Hermione snapped. “There are two guards outside his room, a guard at the lifts, a guard at each stairwell and at the front entrance of the hospital. Mr. Riddle is in a hospital bed recovering from sepsis.” She stood up, “I suggest we all stop panicking and help him to recover, like it’s our job to do.”

She left the break room and glanced toward Room 119 and saw only one guard.

“Excuse me!” She called, hurrying toward the singular guard, “Excuse me,” She said again, peeking into the room. Mr. Riddle was still awake, watching her as she appeared in the doorway. She looked at the guard, “Where the hell is the other one?”

“Miss, please calm down.” The guard said. 

“Where is he?” She asked again, “Where has he gone - doesn’t he have a job to do?”

“He stepped away for a moment.”

“Stepped away where?” She demanded.

“Calm down, nurse,” A voice said, and she turned her head to see the guard approaching with a sandwich in his hand. 

“Where did you get that?” She asked quietly, a familiar feeling of annoyance mixed with rage in her chest, the kind that only comes after a long night of work on very little sleep.

“The vending machine downstairs.” He said, shrugging. He started to open the package, but Hermione snatched it out of his hands. 

“This nurse has a name,” She said, “It’s Hermione Granger, and I expect you to use it. And no one,” She lifted the sandwich to eye level, right in his face, “Is going to be eating any sandwiches here except for Mr. Riddle, as he is the patient. The rest of us will do our jobs and eat when we’re done.”

The guard laughed, “Okay, okay, just give me back the–” He reached for it and she snatched it away. His smile fell off his face. 

She marched into the room, tearing open the package and thrusting it toward Mr. Riddle in his bed. 

“He doesn’t want it!” The Guard protested.

“Yes he does,” Hermione snapped, and turned back toward Mr. Riddle in the bed, who was staring oddly at her. “Don’t you, Mr Riddle?”

He just stared at her. She thought maybe he would have another temper tantrum and start yelling. “Take it,” She encouraged gently, “Please.”

To her surprise, he did. He took the sandwich and took a bite, watching her all the while. 

She smiled. 

“There,” She said, turning back toward the guard, “Don’t leave your post again or I will inform your superior.”

She left the room, grateful that Mr. Riddle didn’t have another one of his outbursts this time. 

Her shift was nearly over anyway. 

–

When she returned home, she laid down in Rose’s bed minutes before she was meant to wake. 

“Mummy?” Rose murmured.

“Good morning,” Hermione whispered.

“I dreamed you were a kangaroo.” Rose said.  Hermione laughed. 

“Were you a Joey?” Hermioned asked. 

“No,” She said, “I’m a Rose.”

Hermione laughed again, “A Joey is a baby kangaroo,” She explained. 

“Oh,” Rose said, and then, “Can we have cheerios?”

Hermione loved these moments more than anything.

She watched Rose over bowls of Cheerios again. She would gladly spend every morning, every moment like this. She thought of the loneliness she felt when she first found out she was pregnant, the boundless love she felt when she held her in her arms for the first time, the feeling in her chest like she was going to explode with happiness when the nurse handed over her baby, wrapped in a white blanket.

She dreamed of a life where she could have this always, no interruptions. 

–

She returned to work the next night. 

“Why the hell do I have Riddle again?” She asked when she looked at the assignments for the night. Lavender was there, the tail end of her shift, and she raised her eyebrows and looked away. “What?” Hermione pressed. 

Minerve spoke up, “He asked for you.”

“He what?” Hermione balked. 

“Fucking screamed about it,” Lavender muttered, “I tried to bring him something to help him sleep and he slapped it out of my hand and said he wouldn’t take anything from the hand of a whore.”

“He said what?” 

“He’s crazy,” Lavender said, “Fucking crazy, good luck Hermione, you’ll need it.”

And she left like that, clearly furious. Hermione looked to Minerva, but Minerva said nothing, simply raised her eyebrows in the way she always did and left to start her rounds. 

The guards outside the room were different than the night before. They nodded to her as she entered. Mr Riddle watched her, looking more tired than ever. 

“Miss Granger,” He greeted. 

“Mr. Riddle,” Hermione replied, smiling, “I heard you were asking for me.”

“You’re my favorite nurse.” He said. 

“Already?” Hermione asked, “Well, it sounds like you aren’t giving anyone else much of a chance.”

“I liked seeing you with McLaggen yesterday.” He said. Hermione wasn’t sure what he meant, and that must have shown on her face, because he said, “The guard.”

“Ah,” She nodded, and added, “You know, this version of you doesn’t exactly match up with the man who apparently slapped medication out of a nurse’s hand and called her a whore.”

“That nurse,” Riddle said as Hermione read over his chart and set about checking his vitals, “goes between speaking to me like I’m a child, and speaking to me like I’m a war criminal.”

“Sometimes you act like both,” Hermione said. 

Mr. Riddle snapped his eyes to meet hers, and it took that for her to realize he finally hadn’t been staring at her. But he was now. Hermione blinked, and then realized what she just said. 

“I hope you won’t start slapping me and calling me a whore.” She said, a poor attempt at a joke.

He smiled then, and it struck her that despite the dark circles around his bloodshot eyes, despite his pale skin and gaunt cheeks he really was sinfully handsome. “You wouldn’t like that?” He asked. 

“No,” Hermione said firmly, and trying to change the subject she asked, “Are you hungry?”

“I am,” He said, but before she could be too pleased by his cooperation, he continued, “But first I have a question.”

“Yes?” She prompted. 

“How old are you?” He asked. 

She smiled. Such a random question, such a strangely serene patient. “I’m 27.”

“You look older,” He said, and she couldn’t help but breathe out a short laugh. “I don’t mean any offense,” He continued, “I mean that you don’t hold yourself like most people your age.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you mean.”

“The way you look. Like someone who has a large amount of responsibility and wisdom. A teacher, a scholar,” Hermione was taking her gloves off when he said, “Or a mother.”

She paused. She watched him for a long moment in silence. The guards stood silently outside the door.

“I apologize,” Mr. Riddle said, “I am only trying to make conversation. 

“Are you a father?” She asked him, and he laughed. Twice she’d seen him smile now. 

“No,” He said, “I never had time.”

She thought about what Padma and Neville said in the breakroom, thought about the armed guards at every exit. She wondered why he was asking her these questions, why he was here, why he had forced himself to become ill enough to end up in the hospital, she wondered…

“I have a daughter.” She admitted. Because here he was a man, receiving treatment, and she refused to treat him like an animal. 

“Does she look like you?” He asked her, “Or her father?”

She smiled, a bit tightly, and didn’t answer. 

He did a funny thing then - hie eyes narrowed just a bit, he tilted his head, and his mouth twisted in what wasn’t quite a smile but couldn’t be defined as anything else. 

“I’ll get you something to eat.” Hermione said, “Do you want something to help you sleep?”

“Not yet,” He said, “I don’t want to sleep while you’re here.”

Her stomach twisted at that, and she a strange, nervous feeling made her hands twitch, as if there was something humming just underneath her skin. 

“I’ll bring you some food.” She said. 

“Thank you, Hermione.” He said. 

The guards watched her as she left the room. 

–

He was the easiest patient she ever had. 

He let her run his IV, administer the antibiotics, check his vitals, all without any complaints, just a few odd questions. He didn’t ask about her daughter again, perhaps because he noted that she became uncomfortable when he did. Instead, he asked what her parents did for a living, he asked where she was from, he asked irrelevant things like her favorite flower and how she took her tea. 

He was much chattier than she expected him to be. 

“Miss Granger,” Minerva said in the break room, using her surname as if she was a patient. She always did that. “How has Mr. Riddle been?”

“Fine, actually.” Hermione said. “The guards are more difficult than he is, although the ones tonight aren’t so bad. They’re quiet.”

Minerva raised a single eyebrow and said nothing else. 

Hermione gave Tom Riddle a sleeping pill at the end of her shift, and he took it with a smile.

–

“Do you have to go?” Rose asked. 

It was 7:00pm. The babysitter had just arrived and Hermione was dressed in her scrubs ready to go to work for the third night in a row and Rose was crying. Hermione brushed her daughter’s hair out of her face and felt her heart wrench. 

“I’m sorry, darling,” She said, “I’ll be back in the morning, just like always.”

“But I want you to read me a story,” Rose sniffled, snot running out of her nose. She wiped at it messily with the back of her hand. “I want you to read me a bedtime story.”

“I’ll read you a story in the morning, I promise.” Hermione said, “I’ll come back home, just like always, in the morning. When you wake up I’ll be right there next to you.”

She never once wished that Rose’s father was around - he didn’t even know he had a child, and Hermione would keep it that way - but in moments like this, she always wished she wasn’t alone. Maybe it would be easier that way. 

Rose wouldn’t stop crying. Hermione had to shut the door on her crying and begging her mother not to leave. 

–

“Again?” Hermione snapped as soon as she saw the assignments for the night. “Again? Seriously?”

“Stop complaining,” Lavender snapped, “Everyone knows he’s an angel with you.”

“Why are you still here?” Hermione snapped back, and Lavender glowered back at her. 

“I’m just leaving,” She said, “He has given me hell ever since he woke up, so good fucking luck.”

She watched Lavender storm out, but the only thing she really took from that conversation was that he finally got some rest. She looked at Room 119, saw the guards outside the door. McLaggen, the annoying one, he still wasn’t there - it was the same guards from the night before. 

She started toward the room, and the guards watched her closely as they always did. They nodded to her as she entered the room.

And she stopped short. 

A tall, blonde man was sat by Mr. Riddle’s bed. He had one of Riddle’s hands clasped between his, and looked as if he was saying something quite passionately before Hermione interrupted. 

Visitors weren’t allowed on the night shift. 

Tom Riddle wasn’t meant to have visitors at all.

“What the hell is this?” Hermione asked, quietly, let the low tone of her voice fill the room that was silent except for the steady beating of Mr. Riddle’s heart monitor. 

Tom Riddle blinked at her, and said nothing. 

“No visitors.” She said firmly, and turned toward the guards, “Why the hell does he have a visitor?”

The guards looked at each other, and then her, and said nothing. 

She turned toward the blonde man, feeling as if she was in a dream or on a TV show, something that couldn’t be real life, “Get out.” She snapped, “No visitors - what part of no visitors do you not understand? Who let you in here?”

“Nurse,” The blonde man snapped, holding up a finger as if to say ‘wait, one second, “Give us a moment.”

“No, I will not give you a moment.” Hermione snapped, “No visitors. Period. You need to leave.” She turned to the guards, “Excuse me?” She threw up her hands, hoping they would soon understand the ridiculousness of the situation. “Get him out.”

The guards walked in, finally, and said, “Sir, it’s time to leave.”

“No, it is not time to leave.” The blonde man snapped. He must come from money, Hermione thought, that was the only thing that would explain his tone. “We are having a private conversation, so if you don’t mind–”

“Abraxas,” Mr. Riddle interjected. “Do as Hermione asks.”

First, the blonde man - Abraxas - screwed up his face and looked at Mr. Riddle like he thought he was crazy. Then he looked at Hermione, and back at Tom. His expression changed, flattened out, like he suddenly understood something, then he turned his eyes back to Hermione and stared. 

He just stared and stared, his expression unreadable, in a way that made Hermione acutely uncomfortable. 

“Goodbye, sir,” She said, then turned to the guards and said, “Could you both do your job, please?”

“No need,” Abraxas said, his tone quieter, less snobby, less snippy. “I’ll see myself out.”

He reached down and clasped Mr. Riddle’s hand once more, but said nothing. Then he left.

Hermione shut her eyes and took a deep breath, tried to shut the anger away. She felt on edge tonight, it started with the way she left her daughter and was only made worse with all this bullshit. She turned on the guards again, who were returning to their post. 

“No visitors.” She snapped, “At all.”

One of the guards nodded tersely. Neither said anything. 

She turned back to Mr. Riddle, who was watching her patiently from his bed. 

She shouldn’t mention it to him. She knew he could get nasty, she shouldn’t try his temper, she should try to have a nice night at work, but she couldn’t help herself. “You know you aren’t allowed visitors.” She said.

“I know.” He agreed, “I apologize. He always visited me in custody - it is a wasted effort to try and explain to him that anything should be different here.”

“Seems its a wasted effort to explain anything to him at all.” Hermione snarked, pulling on her rubber gloves. Mr. Riddle chuckled.

“You aren’t wrong,” He agreed, and watched her very closely as she approached the bed, “You seem agitated.”

“How are you feeling?” She asked, ignoring his observation. 

“I am steadily improving,” He said, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m doing just fine,” She said, moving to take his blood pressure. He caught her arm, far more gentle than the last time he touched her. 

“Hermione,” He said her name quietly, reverently, it made her stop in her tracks for a moment. “I can tell that you aren’t.”

She met his eyes then. She had no desire to entertain whatever delusions he was experiencing, whatever it was he thought was going on here. She wanted to get on with her job and return home to her daughter and let him be dragged back to prison. 

“I am frustrated that the patients of this hospital are incapable of following basic instructions, and concerned about how incapable the guards outside your room seem to be at doing their job.” She said, “I would like to check your vitals, and then go about my job. I have patients other than you, Mr. Riddle.”

His jaw clenched. He let go of her arm. 

She went about her business, and he let her. No questions, no comments, no interruptions. It felt strange, charged, she found that she preferred it when he asked her odd questions. 

Abruptly, she felt guilty. Not because she felt like Mr. Riddle didn’t deserve to be told off, because she believed that he did. But it was her job to be his nurse, not anything else, and she had no business telling him off when he was being nothing but polite. She always hated the idea of someone being treated like a burden, or an animal, or anything other than a person in need of human interaction, and who was she to tell off the patient when it was the guards and the nursing staff who allowed it to happen in the first place?

“My daughter,” She said after a long stretch of silence, “She was crying when I left. I hate to leave her like that.”

“It must be difficult,” He said, not missing a beat, as if he was ready for her to break the silence. “Raising her on your own.” 

“Yes,” She agreed, “It is. I wish I could be with her all the time.”

“You are a good mother.” He told her. 

She stopped her work, raised her head to meet his eyes again. He was always staring at her so intensely, in a way that made her hair stand on end. 

She couldn’t help herself when she asked him, “Why do you have armed guards all throughout the hospital guarding you?”

He smiled, “Because I’m a prisoner.” He told her. 

“I can’t imagine you committing a crime so terrible you need to be brought in by six guards.” She admitted. 

He smiled, and said nothing else. 

And something about the way he looked away from her then, looked toward the guards, still smiling, like something about this whole situation was deeply amusing that made her think; it truly wasn’t so far fetched. 

And remember the way he acted to people other than herself, remembering the way he somehow had a visitor with the permission of the guards and the nursing staff, she wondered why she had thought it was far-fetched, even for a minute.

She needed some air. 

“Are you hungry?” She asked.

“Yes,” He answered, “But not yet.”

A strange answer, but Hermione just nodded and left the room. 

The guards, as always, watched her as she left.

–

Hermione researched Voldemort on her break.

Neville wasn’t wrong, he was in prison for life. He was found guilty on counts of Assault, kidnapping, theft, robbery, murder, and multiple drug charges. He was the kingpin for the Death Eaters, which as Hermione understood from the news she read, was an organized crime unit that participated in predominantly drug and arms trading. 

If the hospital was an escape plan, as was the original concern, she wondered how someone like him could take so long to carry out his plan. She wondered why he was still there, sitting in his hospital room surrounded by prison guards, sitting patiently, as if he didn’t have any plan but to get well again. 

She called the babysitter to check on Rose. She was asleep in her bed. 

Hermione took a deep breath and returned to work. 

–

“You don’t work tomorrow night.” Mr. Riddle said when she was checking on him after her break. 

“No, I’m not.” Hermione said, “Did you ask someone if I was?”

“Yes,” He admitted, “You’re my favorite nurse.”

Hermione smiled. “Try not to call any other nurses whores and you should be just fine.”

“I can’t help it,” He said, “It does make me angry when I have a nurse who isn’t you.”

“That’s rather childish, don’t you think?”

“You know, we’ve met before.” He admitted, and that abruptly caught Hermione’s attention. 

“What do you mean?” She asked, quietly, as if they were telling secrets. 

He lowered his voice to match her tone, “Once, you looked after a gunshot wound for one of my friends,” Hermione furrowed her brow, shaking her head, she was sure she would remember meeting him. “Before that, a colleague who nearly lost their leg,” 

“Mr. Riddle–”

“But that wasn’t the first time.” He continued. His gaze was decidedly intense now. Hermione felt helplessly caught up in it. “The first time,  I came to the hospital on business.” He reached out, wrapped his fingers around her wrist, “You were a patient, and I was in the wrong room.”

She didn’t know what he meant. She didn’t remember. 

“I held your daughter in my arms,” Hermione felt something heavy settle in her chest, something cold, “You were half asleep. You asked me to hand her to you, you didn’t know who I was. I realized I was in the wrong room but I couldn’t bear to leave.”

“Why were you there?” She asked, her voice was shaking slightly, try as she may to conceal it. 

“I was waiting for someone,” He said.

“To threaten them with their baby in your arms?” She guessed. He had that strange expression again, his eyes slightly narrowed, his head tilted, and she knew she was right. “What are you doing here, Mr. Riddle?”

“Right now,” He answered, his voice soft, “I’m looking at you, wondering how many more times we should cross paths before I finally begin paying attention.”

She moved away, feeling unsettled, afraid. She turned, and the guards were stood at the doorway as if nothing was happening at all. 

“Mr. Riddle, are you hungry?” She asked.

“Yes,” He answered, “But I don’t want hospital food.”

“I’m afraid thats all I can offer you,” She said, “I’ll let you get some rest.”

She left him like that. She didn’t check him again for the remainder of her shift, and then she left. 

She went home, and made good on her promise to Rose to read her a story in the morning. 

–

Rose was coloring at the table while the TV was on that morning. Hermione stayed awake despite the long night shift before to have more time with her daughter.

No matter how many channels she switched through they all had the same message. 

Voldemort escaped from Hogwarts Medical Centre at 8:22am. 

Police had yet to make a statement. 

No one knew where he was. 

“Mummy,” Rose called, looking up from her coloring book, “Can we bake muffins today?”

Hermione tried to shake the uneasy feeling that had settled deep in her gut. She smiled at her daughter, and thought of the nurse that had so gently handle her daughter over to her that first night. The man who wasn’t really a nurse at all. 

“Of course, sweetheart,” Hermione said, and she smiled. 

She switched off the TV.

[buckybeardreams]

Unwanted

Chapters: 4/11

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Brock Rumlow, James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Harley Keener

Additional Tags: Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Steve Rogers, Omega Tony Stark, Service Top, Dominant Bottom, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Virgin Steve Rogers, Brock Rumlow is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Romantic Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, First Meetings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sappy, Romantic Fluff, Awkwardness, Drinking to Cope, Self-Worth Issues, Insecure Tony Stark, Insecure Steve Rogers, Age Difference, Harley Keener is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Bonding, Claiming Bites, Claiming, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Non-Explicit Sex, Light Dom/sub, Mutual Masturbation, Coming Untouched, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000

Series: Part 1 of Second Chances

Summary:

Steve is a soft Alpha and Tony is an in charge kind of Omega with no desire to find a mate. He doesn't want to find his soulmate and when he does meet Steve he's determined to stay away from him.

That is until he realizes just how right they are for each other.

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11

Can also be read here

Words: 1,542

The first night when Steve didn't get a call from his soulmate he convinced himself that he was too tired when he got off his shift to call him, that maybe he didn't want to call him so late. Totally reasonable. Steve barely slept that night, staring at his phone for hours and willing it to ring before dragging his butt out of bed at the crack of dawn and heading over to Sam's.

Sam answered in his underwear, told Steve to keep his voice down when he started to excitedly tell him about his night, and headed to the kitchen to make coffee. Despite Sam's best attempts to keep Steve quiet they still woke his mate, who apparently was not a morning person. Though to be fair, Steve had woken him up at six o'clock and not many people were excited about being awake that early, especially if they didn't have to be.

Sam's Omega snapped at them to shut up when he entered the kitchen, ranted about how Steve was way too sunshiny for someone who was awake before the sun, and then stole Sam's coffee. Sam just smiled fondly at him and wrapped his arms around his waist, letting Brock lean up against him.

"So you must be Brock?" Steve asked, grinning. "I just found my mate too."

Sam smiled at Steve.

"I really am so glad for you, man. Next time call before you show up though."

Steve blushed and scratched the back of his neck.

"Sorry, Sam. I was just so excited and I had to tell you."

"It's all good."

Brock grumbled about damn early morning people and refilled the coffee cup before joining in on the conversation.

"So, what is he like?" Brock asked, feeling much more alive with coffee in him.

"He's perfect. Gorgeous dark eyes, dark curls, so tiny he's practically pocket size,” Steve said, clearly lost on the Omega he'd barely even spoken to. “He's the prettiest Omega I've ever seen."

Brock raised a brow at him.

"Saying that in the presence of another Omega is dangerous."

Steve blushed and stuttered out an apology that Brock waved off.

"Relax, I'm only teasing you. I'm not jealous of your mate," Brock said, rolling his eyes and pressing closer to Sam, turning to press his nose into his neck.

"I'm glad things are working out for you, man," Sam said, his thumb rubbing circles into Brock's hip. "When do we get to meet him?"

Steve shrugged.

"I don't know. I need him to call me first and then I'm thinking I'll take him out on a date and after..." Steve blushed, but grinned like a lovesick fool. "Well, maybe he'll let me mate him."

"I can't believe you haven't mated him yet," Brock said in disbelief. "You really just left without taking him home with you? What if he thinks you're not interested?"

"I gave him my number!" Steve defended. "Besides, he was working."

Brock rolled his eyes and Sam stepped in to steer the conversation towards less rocky waters. Steve continued to rave about his Omega and Sam nodded along indulgently.

"Yeah? He got a name? This pretty Omega of yours?" Brock mumbled into Sam's neck.

"Yeah, Anthony, " Steve said dreamily, his eyes sparkling.

Brock turned to look at Steve considering that.

"Yeah? Where'd you say you met him again?"

"A bar. He was the server there."

Brock nodded, fitting the pieces together. He hoped he was wrong, because he had a feeling that if he was right that Steve might not ever get that call he was hoping to get. Brock didn't say anything about it, because he didn't want to worry Steve, but it seemed like too much of a coincidence.

Which is why Brock called up Tony the moment Steve left. Tony was still ignoring him though and Brock groaned.

That fucking brat.

He couldn't ignore him forever.

*****

It turns out he could ignore him for a month though, because Tony was just too stubborn for his own good.

"Why don't you just call him?" Brock asked.

Tony had finally given in and invited Brock over.

"I can't. I threw away his number," Tony groaned.

"Stupid, stupid Omega," Brock teased. "Why would you do that? You can't hate Alphas so much that you'd throw away what is potentially your only chance at happiness?"

Tony pouted. He hated being teased.

"You're not helping," Tony whined, throwing a pillow at him.

Brock just laughed and caught the pillow.

"You'll find him somehow," Brock assured him. "When you do, just make sure you at least get his name."

Tony shook his head.

"Nope, if I ever see him again, I'm running in the opposite direction. Anyone who can make me feel this miserable is bad news."

Brock hummed, propping g the pillow up behind him and grabbing his beer to take a sip.

"You only feel miserable because he's gone."

"Yeah, well, I'd rather not give him a chance to get close to me only so he can decide I'm not worth his trouble and leave me. Never knowing how good it could be is better than knowing and losing it."

"Oh, you poor thing," Brock cooed at the smaller Omega. "You're just terrified of getting hurt, but if you never take a chance then you'll never have a chance at happiness."

"Shut up," Tony grumbled. "I hate it when you say smart shit like that. It makes me feel stupid."

"Tony you are the farthest thing from stupid," Brock told him, but then he smirked. "Though you do stupid shit constantly, so maybe you are pretty stupid."

Tony rolled his eyes at his best friend's teasing.

"I will shove you off the couch if you don't stop making fun of me," Tony threatened.

Brock laughed.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop, but you have to promise me that you'll come over for dinner tomorrow night. Sam's best friend is coming too,” Brock said casually, like he wasn’t secretly hoping that Steve was Tony’s soulmate. “It'll be my first time hosting a dinner like a real adult. You have to be there."

Tony sighed dramatically, but nodded.

"You know I wouldn't miss it for the world."

*****

When Steve didn't get a call by the end of that first day he was starting to have his doubts, but he tried to remain positive. Maybe his soulmate was just busy or maybe he was shy and trying to work up the courage to call. By the end of the week Steve had all but given up hope on ever getting the call he was waiting for.

He knew that he could go back to his work, but that just seemed wrong. If the Omega didn't want to see him Steve wasn't going to force him to. He definitely wasn't going to pressure his little mate. He wasn't an asshole.

Steve was definitely heartbroken though. The feeling of rejection was steadily creeping up on him and threatening to consume him. He held it together pretty well that second week, but by the time the third week hit with no word from Tony, Steve was depressed and had completely given up on getting to have that happily ever after he wanted. He had also given up on showering, spent all day in bed but never seemed to sleep, and the only reason he hadn't starved was because Sam kept bringing him food.

Steve felt bad that Sam was spending his evenings consoling his best friend, instead of with his own mate. It really wasn't fair, but Steve was still grateful for it. He was miserable, but it was easier when Sam was there. It was easier when they were watching movies and laughing. Sam was good at distracting him when possible and being a shoulder to cry on when Steve couldn't hold it together and broke down into sobs.

Steve was miserable, but he still clung to the last shred of hope that maybe someday his soulmate would want him, would call him on the phone.

"Do you think he knew? Think he could just tell somehow?" Steve asked at one point.

"Tell what?" Sam asked.

"That I wasn't a real Alpha."

"Hey, don't think like that. You are a real Alpha. I don't care what others say. Alphas don't have to be domineering and controlling."

"Maybe not, but that doesn't mean everyone likes that. Maybe he could sense it and just knew that I could never be what he really wanted from an Alpha."

"Steve, stop, you can't think like that. You'll tear yourself apart if you keep thinking those kinds of thoughts. There's nothing wrong with the way you are and someday you'll meet someone who doesn't care about that."

"I don't want anyone but my soulmate." Steve pouted.

Sam sighed.

"I know you feel that way now, but someday you might feel differently. Maybe you'll meet a different Omega, or even an Alpha."

Steve cringed at that.

"I can't date an Alpha, Sam. That's just wrong. You know that Alphas can't be together. It's just not allowed."

"I'm not saying you have to, but you know I'd never judge you even if you did fall in love with an Alpha, or if you wanted to fool around with one or even just date around. Whatever you want, whatever makes you happy, that's what I want for you."

Steve whimpered, wiping tears off his cheeks.

"I just want my Omega."

For as miserable as Steve felt he still managed to pull himself together enough to get all cleaned up for the dinner that Sam and his Omega had invited him to. Brock had threatened to shove Steve into the shower himself if he showed up smelling like he hadn't showered in a week. Steve sure was glad that he'd showered and put on clean clothes when his soulmate showed up.

[terreisa]

Love Down the Line: Chapter 9

The last thing Indie musician Emma Swan needs is a gigantic wrench thrown in the workings of her biggest tour to date weeks before its launch.  When her backing guitarist that caused the problem says she has the perfect solution Emma is skeptical but left with little choice but to accept.  Unfortunately she isn’t really prepared for said solution to be former Rock Star and leading man of Emma’s teenage fantasies, Killian Jones.  With no other options and a month of performing across the country ahead of her Emma just hopes she doesn’t come to regret letting Killian onto her stage and into her life.

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, AO3

~*CS*~

Los Angeles, May 24th

“-and there’s a bit of a backup on the 405 just south of the 10 due to a two car accident in the southbound lanes.  That’s the morning traffic report brought to you by your local Southern California Honda dealer.  This is Treena in the morn’ and I got some Yaz on the way along with Echo and the Bunnymen and Talking Heads after this-”

“A clock radio?” Emma mumbled into the pillow, “Really?  What are you, like, three hundred?”

Killian’s chuckle stirred the hair at the back of her neck, “Try thirty-five, love.”

“So you say,” she groused as he reached over her to turn off the alarm.  She blinked up at him as he set his hands on either side of her shoulders, looming over her with a smile, “I bet you still have a landline, old man.”

“And a rather impressive laserdisc collection,” he said with a wink.

“You would.”

He laughed, a bright joyous thing that had her smile stretching from ear to ear.  It was the last of the three days of no shows that they had while in LA and the second morning she’d woken in the bed of Killian’s house in Malibu.  Since their first night together in Denver they hadn’t slept apart, much to Tink’s delight and Will’s annoyance.  When they’d arrived in LA Emma had been surprised and pleased to discover that Killian had a house there where no one would disturb them as long as they kept their phones on silent.  Unfortunately it hadn’t really been an option as her suddenly vibrating phone reminded her.

“What time is Regina sending the car?” Killian asked as he dipped his head and started trailing kisses down her throat.

She hummed in pleasure, blindly swiping at her phone to dismiss the call, “Nine.  We’re having brunch with people from the label to talk about the next album and then it’s interviews for the rest of the afternoon.”

“And after all that we’ll rendezvous back here for dinner and a bit of Netflix and chill,” he murmured into her collarbone before dragging his tongue across it.

“You go-” her breath hitched as his hand travelled up her thigh, “going somewhere?”

He paused his ministrations, much to her frustration, and said somberly, “Aye, Robin still lives out here with his son.  I haven’t been in town for… well, quite a while and I’m long overdue for a visit.”

The delicious tension she’d been feeling mellowed into something warm and soothing at his earnestness.  Ever since they’d landed he’d waxed nostalgic about all the things he’d used to do in the city, places he’d eaten that he wasn’t sure were still around, venues he’d played, museums he’d spent hours getting lost in and all the interesting people he’d met in that time.  What he hadn’t mentioned once was his former bandmate and friend.  In the bright morning light streaming through the wall of windows she could see that for some reason he was nervous about seeing him again.

“You guys talk all the time,” she reminded him, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair and cupping his cheek, “I interrupted one of your FaceTime dates just a couple of days ago.”

Killian chuckled, “Aye, and don’t think I haven’t received more than my fair share of nosey texts about that since.”

She blushed, forgetting that when she’d done the interrupting she’d been wearing one of his shirts and not much else.

“Seeing as Robin has come to Boston several times in the years that I’ve been there it’s only fitting that he gets to monopolize some of my time while I’m here,” he said, one shoulder lifting higher than the other in a half shrug. “I’ll be home by the time you’re done with your interviews.”

“You don’t have to rush back just for me,” she said quickly, guilt already pulling at her, “Just text me when your male bonding time is over.”

“We’ll deal with the logistics later, love,” he murmured, turning his head slightly to press a kiss to her palm, “For now I’d like to pick up where we left off before-”

Emma sighed in disappointment as her phone began to vibrate again.  Knowing that Regina was the only one who would not only call but do so before nine a.m. no matter the time zone she couldn’t ignore it.  She’d made the mistake of doing it before a show in Arizona once and had sworn Regina would have pushed her into the Grand Canyon if she’d been given the opportunity.

Gently nudging Killian off of her with an apology she sat up and grabbed her phone.  Killian sat up behind her, pushing her hair to one side as he nuzzled into her neck.  Giggling but in no way discouraging him she swiped up to answer.

Regina started talking the second the call connected, “The car will be there in thirty minutes to take you straight to the restaurant-”

“Wait, what?” Emma jerked away from Killian’s ministrations to look at the clock on the bedside table and saw it was only a little after seven. “I thought you said it’d be here at nine!”

“Plans have changed,” Regina said off-handedly. “The brunch meeting is now a breakfast meeting and I’ve pushed up one of your radio interviews to give you the time you’ll need for the streaming exclusives.”

“Exclusives?” She asked warily.

“Enchanted XM wants you to curate a ten song playlist and record intros for their Alt Rock station and then there will be an in-depth interview with one of their djs.  Snowdrops and Buttercups has been their number one request since its debut and is poised to take the number one spot on the chart next week.  It’s also been getting increasing play on their hits station.  We need to strike while the iron’s hot.”

Emma tipped her head back to stare at the ceiling as she counted to ten to keep her patience.  She was well aware that self promotion came with the territory, especially as a solo artist, and usually she had no problem giving interviews or whatever little fun extras needed to do so.  What she hated was that Regina tended to take liberties with her schedule whenever they were in a big enough city and there was extra down time.  It was all the more frustrating that Regina knew that things between her and Killian had shifted and apparently didn’t care about infringing on their time alone together.

“We’ll still be done by six right?” She asked, resigned, Killian’s warm hand gliding across her shoulders calming her much more than her counting had.

“Yes,” Regina huffed and Emma could practically hear her eyes rolling, “You and lover boy can have your romantic evening together and don’t think we won’t be discussing how to play whatever it is you two are doing to the press.”

“Really?” She growled.

“Really.”

Before Emma could even begin to shoot down that idea Regina had hung up, leaving her staring at the phone in her hand with disbelief and anger.  Even Killian’s gentle ministrations were no longer helping.

“I need to get ready,” she said mournfully, moving to stand from the bed.

Killian stopped her with a hand on her wrist, “Everything alright, love?”

“Yeah, everything’s great.  The meeting with the label got moved and there’s already a car on its way.  Which normally wouldn’t be a big deal but-” she shrugged, still angry but also starting to blush, “We were getting to the good stuff.”

“That we were,” he agreed with a salacious grin.  Then the grin faded and he narrowed his eyes at her, “Was there something else she said?  You seem upset over more than just an earlier meeting.”

Emma hesitated.  As much as she wanted to share her frustration with Regina dictating her life she couldn’t do so without bringing up the questions she’d successfully avoided since the morning after they’d first slept together.  First and foremost, was what they were doing just as important to him as it was to her and if it was, then what did that mean for them once the tour was over and they returned to their respective lives.  Chickening out she figured they could talk it over later, when there wasn’t a time constraint or a full day of interviews where she’d need to keep focused.

She shook her head and smiled, “Nothing you need to worry about.  Regina just has me getting some list of songs together for some streaming thing and I have no idea what I’m going to pick.  It takes me two hours to edit the playlists I already have, how the hell am I supposed to choose ten songs and then talk about them?”

“Simple, pick one of your playlists, put it on random and the first ten songs that play are the ones you choose,” he said easily. “You already know and enjoy those songs if you spent two hours picking them and there’s no pressure of trying to curate a perfect list from scratch.”

“That’s… actually a really good idea-” she beamed, grabbing her phone and bouncing up from the bed.  She spun around and gave what she hoped was a come hither look, “You know, I hear California is in a drought.  It’d be a shame to waste water by taking separate showers.”

His lips curled wickedly, “I’d say that I love the way your mind works, Swan.”

Taking his hand she led him into the bathroom and made good use of the less than twenty minutes they had before her car arrived.  Several hours later, however, she wished she had pushed back a little more against the schedule Regina had set up for her.  Of course she’d had no way of knowing that her too short morning with Killian was going to be the least stressful of her day.

Sitting in one of the green rooms at Enchanted XM between the recording session for her song picks and her interview she let her eyes slide shut.  It had already been a long day and it was nowhere near being over and done with.  The breakfast meeting had been good, the representatives from the label had been pleased that she had already written a few songs that she felt were strong contenders for the next album and they had easily agreed to giving her three months off after the tour to work on the rest.  Even Regina had been pleased with the meeting, if her short and not too unreasonable list of demands for moving forward were any indication.

The interview she’d done directly after had been the kind that she’d gotten used to over the years.  Questions that were more often than not the same ones others had asked her time and again.  She’d gotten good at making it sound like she was hearing them for the first time and varying her answers just enough so she didn’t sound like a robot.  The best part were the teasing texts from Killian waiting for her once she was done.  She was surprised and touched that he had taken the time out of his day to listen to her interview, especially since he knew how unexciting they could be.

As her day continued Regina had left her to make her way to the Enchanted XM studios on her own.  Once there she had immediately had to get to work ironing out her list of songs and recorded the intros with the program producer.  It had been more fun than she’d anticipated.  She’d already had her choices written down in one of her ever present notebooks, having listened to a randomized playlist in the car on her way to breakfast like Killian had suggested.  The first ten songs that had played had been perfect but she’d made one substitution to make sure that a Realm of Jewels song was one of her picks.  It was her thank you to Killian for giving her the idea in the first place and a not so subtle wink to whatever was going on between them.

The producer, a woman named Gwen, had been impressed with her choices.  They’d spent nearly an hour talking them over, working through a rough script of what she would say about each one.  Then she had been taken to a small recording booth where it had taken less than an hour to get what they needed.  She’d wanted to text Killian about it but Gwen had immediately invited her to lunch and she hadn’t had the chance.  Once they’d returned to Enchanted’s headquarters she’d been asked to record a few small promos for the stations that played her songs in heavy rotation.  Not willing to say no she’d been ushered to another recording booth with barely any time to take a breath.

Being left alone in the green room was a welcome break from what had become an increasingly busy day. Just as she was about to pull out her phone for the first time since after her first interview the door opened and Regina stormed in, angrily snapping at whoever the poor soul was that was still in the hallway.

“-not recording as scheduled and I want to know why a rider was requested when nothing that is on it is in this room.  There’s not even a bottle of water.  See that it gets taken care of.”

“Of course, Ms. Mills.”

The disembodied voice wavered slightly and Emma's earlier annoyance at Regina flared back up.

“The water that’s in here is fine,” she called out, leaning forward and catching the eye of the young woman in the hallway giving her an apologetic smile.  She turned pointedly to Regina and glared, “I don’t need anything else.”

“That’s not the point,” Regina sniffed, her dark eyes narrowing followed by the sound of retreating footsteps. “Certain expectations were to be met and they weren’t.  Just one more thing this company has failed at.  I have a mind to stop booking appearances here if they’ll just be treated like this.”

“Okay, this is about something more than water bottles and a missing box of Milk Duds.  What’s going on?” Emma asked suspiciously.

Regina pursed her lips as she took out her phone and began rapidly typing.  Emma waited patiently for her to answer, knowing better than to push if she wanted to keep her head on her shoulders.  With a final tap on her screen Regina focused back on her with a wary look that immediately had her on edge.

“You were supposed to do the on air interview with Graham Humbert but apparently due to an ‘unfortunate’-” Regina rolled her eyes, “scheduling conflict you have to do it with Walsh Hoakley instead.”

Emma groaned.  An interview with Graham would have been fun and easy.  They’d both gotten their start in the business around the same time, so he not only knew what types of questions she enjoyed answering but what her boundaries were when it came to her personal life.  Walsh, on the other hand, was the complete opposite.

Every interview she’d had with him had her sitting through bad jokes and his comparing her career against his own.  He had been the frontman of a pop punk group that had taken a break almost a decade before, though he insisted that it was only a matter of time before they would release another album.  It was bad enough she had to play nice as he gave her unsolicited advice but once the mics were turned off he tended to dial up his smarmy charm and invite her out for drinks or a meal.  She’d always firmly said no but he’d kept it up and after their last interview nearly two years earlier she’d told Regina that she preferred not to do any more with him.

“I thought he was with that big station in New York,” she said sullenly.

“Apparently not,” Regina sniffed.  Her eyes softened fractionally, “Do you want me to reschedule?”

“No,” she sighed, “We’re already here and I know we don’t have any time to come back while we’re still in LA.  Plus I don’t want rumors starting that I’m being difficult over Walsh Hoakley.  I don’t want to give him that honor.”

Regina smirked, “I’m sure he’d dine out on that for years.”

“He would.  So where’d you disappear to?” Emma asked, through talking about Walsh.

“I do have other clients that happen to conveniently live where their label’s offices and some of the best recording studios are,” Regina said drolly, perching herself delicately on a chair. “You might want to reexamine the benefits of moving out here after this tour is done.  You’re only going to get bigger from here on out.”

She hummed noncommittally.  For a few seconds she let herself daydream about moving into Killian’s beachfront house, waking up in his arms every morning before heading to the studio that would admittedly be leaps and bounds better than the one back in Maine.  She could almost see herself returning at the end of her day to find Killian preparing dinner in the kitchen or strumming his guitar on the balcony.  Before her thoughts went any further than that she stopped them in their tracks, forcing herself to remember all the reasons why she loved living in Storybrooke and to not let herself get wrapped up in a fantasy.  She didn’t let herself dwell on how her imaginings had given her the same feelings of home that her real memories of Storybrooke did.

Ten minutes and an increasingly impatient Regina later another assistant came to show them to the recording booth.  From behind the glass they watched as Walsh introduced the next group of songs that would be playing and teased her interview.  As soon as he switched off his mic she was ushered into the booth, shown which headphones and mic to use and then left alone with him.  To her great relief he smiled and shook her hand, seemingly not knowing that she had requested not to do interviews with him.  She smiled back, settling in the chair in front of the mic she’d been shown and adjusted everything to her liking.  As they waited for the queued songs to finish playing they made small talk about their day and the thankfully very few mutual acquaintances they had.

The interview started off well.  Walsh only mentioned his band Behind the Curtain twice and kept his advice to a minimum.  Emma found herself actually enjoying the questions he asked, responding with enthusiasm when he asked about living in Maine and her writing process.  She was so caught up in lightheartedly debating with him over notebooks versus a phone app to write lyrics that she was surprised when he mentioned that their time was drawing to a close.

“So, Emma, before you go, how has this tour been so far?  You’ve only got a few shows left right?”

“Yeah, just the last few cities heading north but it’s been really, really great,” she enthused, “This is the biggest tour I’ve ever done and the fans have been amazing in every city we’ve played.  I’m actually really looking forward to tomorrow night’s show since it’s where they have the Oscars.”

“Right, the Dolby theater, when we played it was still the Kodak and it’s a great venue.  Bigger than what you would think when you see it on tv,” Walsh said with a wink and a grin.

Emma fought against a cringe at his bad innuendo, glad that he hadn’t been like that through the whole interview.

“I haven’t had a chance to get in the space yet and, I know this is really nerdy or whatever, but I’m really excited to stand on the same stage that some of my favorite actors have been on.  I mean, some of my idols have played there and it’s always an honor to get to perform where they have too, but come on, tomorrow I could be standing in the exact spot where Meryl Streep or Tom Hanks or Oprah have stood.  Oprah!”

Walsh chuckled, “So you still get starstruck meeting other celebrities?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said with a nod. “I don’t even think of myself as a celebrity.  I live in the same town I mostly grew up in, all my friends are ones I’ve had since before I even thought about recording an album, I don’t even have ‘people’ or whatever.  I nearly had a heart attack seeing Lady Gaga from across the room at a benefit concert once.”

“So how was it when you met Killian Jones, famous guitarist for Realm of Jewels, before the start of your tour?”

She shot a glance to the window into the sound booth where Regina had been throughout the whole interview.  Regina barely looked up from her phone and nodded, twirling her hand in a gesture Emma took to mean keep going.  They had talked about what would happen when Killian was finally recognized but the longer they went without it happening the more she had convinced herself that they could get through the whole tour with no one the wiser.  It seemed their time was up.  Taking a deep breath to settle her racing heart she looked back at Walsh and found him watching her closely.

“I was surprised and a little annoyed actually,” she said with a small laugh. “Ruby, the guitarist I usually tour with, had broken her arm but said that she’d found her replacement for me.  The thing was she wouldn’t tell me who it was so I walked into the recording studio and Killian was there.  Realm of Jewels was one of my favorite bands, still is, so seeing him sitting there was a kinda surreal fangirl moment and intimidating too, knowing how good of a guitarist he is.”

“Rumors have been circulating on social media for a few weeks that it was Killian onstage for your tour and then earlier this afternoon uber-producer Robin Locksley seemed to confirm it-” Walsh pulled up a sheet of paper and began reading, “He said in an interview: ‘I’m very excited to begin working with Killian Jones on new music and other projects moving forward.  He’s been touring the past few weeks as a backing guitarist and he told me it’s been a great first step to getting back out there.  I was even fortunate enough to hear a few rough cuts of songs he’s already written for a new solo album and they’re amazing.  I really can’t wait.’  Since you’ve confirmed it yourself have you heard any of his new songs while on the road?  He’s already with your label and turns out he signed on with your manager Regina Mills back in March so will the rest of the tour be a double bill?  Maybe even a possibility of a duet in the future?”

Emma felt dazed, like she’d been hit with a pillow shot out of a cannon.  She had completely forgotten that Robin had become a music producer after Liam and Milah had died.  He’d even sent her an email after her last album had been released, saying he wanted to work with her at some point.  That little detail was nothing compared to the realization that Killian hadn’t mentioned that his lunch with Robin was really about business.  He hadn’t even hinted that he had whole songs written let alone recorded anything.  Worst of all was that he had signed on with Regina before he’d joined the tour and she knew without a doubt Regina would do anything necessary to further a client’s career.  Especially if the final outcome would prove advantageous for two clients at once.

“I, uh, haven’t listened to anything he’s recorded-”

Her phone buzzed at her elbow.  There were several notifications but the preview screen showed a text from Regina.  She opened it in a daze.

Regina: No double billing, play coy about duet, plug rest of tour, still seats in Vancouver

The fog she’d been in cleared away as white hot anger took its place.  She looked at Regina through the glass and found her making the same ‘continue on’ motion she had before.  There was no sign of an apology on her features, only impatience and  the ever present look of expectation that she perform well.  While acting wasn’t her forte she was more than ready to give the performance of a lifetime.

“Killian was only brought on temporarily until Ruby was well enough to play again.  Luckily her recovery happened to work out perfectly with us arriving in LA-” she knew she sounded too upbeat but pushed through, “I’m sorry to dash any hopes but Killian has decided to stay here and focus on his own music.  Ruby will be back for tomorrow night’s show and will be finishing out the tour.  We’re sold out for most of those shows but I think there’s still some tickets left for Vancouver, but not many.”

“So, no duet?” Walsh asked hopefully and Emma wasn’t sure if he meant musically or hinting at something between her and Killian.

“Nope,” she said decisively, her heart cracking as she did. “I’ll be taking some time off after this tour is done.  Rest and relaxation are the only duets I’ll be performing any time soon.”

Walsh laughed, “Now that’s a duo everyone loves.  Well, Emma, it’s been great talking to you.”

“You too,” she said with feigned pleasure.

“Here’s Emma’s latest single ‘Snowdrops and Buttercups’ which has been flying up the charts.  Safe to say you’ll be playing it tomorrow?”

“Yup.  It’s been fun to see the responses get more enthusiastic as it gets played on the radio more,” she said, finally feeling like she was being genuine.

“That’s always a great feeling,” Walsh said with a grin. “Alright, here it is ‘Snowdrops and Buttercups’. Thanks for stopping by, Emma.”

“Thanks for having me.”

As the first notes of her song filled the studio Emma ripped off the headphones, ignoring the constant buzz of her phone at her elbow.  She wasn’t sure who it was that was calling, she’d told everyone important to her about the interview and she knew they had probably all tuned in to listen.  With the way her pulse was pounding in her temples she wasn’t too sure she could keep herself from unfairly snapping at whoever it was and whatever questions they were going to have.

“Emma?”

She looked up at Walsh and by the way his grin faltered a bit she was sure that her anger was painted clear across her face.

“Yeah?”

“Er, I was wondering if you wanted to grab a drink?” He asked hesitantly. “Talk a little shop, maybe?”

“I already have plans,” she said shortly, the words tasting like the ashes of the evening she originally thought she’d be having.

“Coffee then? Or lunch?  I’m up for anything really,” He said with a wink and a chuckle.

“Look, I don’t know how much more clear I can make this but I’m not ‘up’ for doing anything with you,” she snapped, his annoying persistence the final straw. “I thought that you’d gotten better than the last time you tried this but apparently not.”

She snatched up her phone and turned to leave when she heard him scoff and mutter something under his breath.  She spun back to face him.

“Wanna share with the whole room?”

“Yeah, actually,” he said with a sneer that twisted his face into something vicious. “You act all high and mighty but you’re just a step away from falling into obscurity just like me.  That whole thing about Jones was given to me by your people and by tomorrow morning both your careers will be reaping the benefits from it.  I could have helped you along even further with the contacts I have in this business.”

Emma gaped at him, “By going out with you?  Classy, you sack of shit.”

Something flashed in Walsh’s eyes, “You-”

“Emma!  Let’s go, now.”

For half a second she was grateful that Regina had burst into the room, then she remembered why she was angry in the first place.  She brushed past her, ignoring her stream of hissing admonishments and the stuttered apologies of the producer.  Halfway back to the green room she realized her phone was still buzzing non-stop.  Her stomach lurched, not wanting to know if it was Killian calling when she was walking the thin line between yelling at him or breaking down in tears.  Steeling herself she finally looked at the screen and breathed a sigh of relief, swiping to answer.

“Ruby, pack your shit.  I need you in LA tonight.”

[a-lonely-tatertot]

The Nightmares Haven’t Left

Pairing: Titz (tam/fitz)

Word Count: 1589

Warnings: panic attacks, anxiety, mentions of burns, scars, injuries, and blood

A/N: Day 3 of Titz week ( @titzweek ) this is late ik, hurt and comfort there’s comfort i promise, this was read over once and i did this in like three hours so uh good luck 

The nightmares were back. For a moment, one peaceful moment when he had closed his eyes, finally laying down at 4 am, it was quiet. No flashes. No pain. No cold terror freezing his body. The shadows of the room stayed in their places, the shadows in his mind didn’t move. 

Relief flooded through him a moment too soon. The peace was shattered by his thoughts. It started with Linh. Why couldn’t he protect her? How she had burn scars traveling, weaving down her arm, because of him. He couldn’t stop them when they took her. She wore them proudly now, next to Biana, and she doesn’t flinch when Marella lights her fires. But Tam does. He always will. And he’ll never get her screams out of his head.

The thoughts and images travel from there. To what he did to Keefe, to how powerful he felt. As he watched the shadows under his command, it was his doing, with or without the cuffs. How before Sophie talked to him he was becoming more like them. He had darkness in him, so much of it, and the things he had done were still apart of him. 

Distantly he felt Fitz curl closer to him out of instinct. Tam wanted to scream, to yell, to put Fitz as far away from him as he could. /I’m a monster! How can you sleep next to me? Knowing you’re defenseless?/ Tam thought. The shadows crawled closer. He didn’t stop them. 

Fitz knew what he was capable of, he had /felt/ it. The Shadowflux was inside of him, inside of his heart. “That wasn’t you,” Fitz had said as he grabbed Tam’s hand and put it to his chest. “This wasn’t you, this was never your fault. You fought back, you did everything in your power to help.”

/It could’ve been,/ Tam almost said. He didn’t, Fitz shouldn’t have to deal with that part of him. 

Fitz made a soft sigh against his side and Tam couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t trust himself. Everyone who cared about him got hurt because of it and Fitz was no exception. 

As he wiggled his way out of Fitz’s grip he was reminded of the scar on his chest, only a couple of inches from his heart. It was near the end of a battle, the Neverseen were retreating, they were closer to a victory than they had been in months. Tam was watching them go, throwing shadow after shadow making sure they couldn’t get back, but he didn’t notice the gleam of a knife through the air until it was too late. He couldn’t move so he threw a shadow to counter it. But Fitz only saw the knife. And Tam didn’t see Fitz. He had jumped in the way of both the knife and the shadow and caught both in the chest, Tam only saw his knees give out beneath him and heard the other’s shouting. 

By the time Elwin had gotten to the field Tam thought it was too late. Fitz’s chest had stopped moving and so did Tam. They got him to the Healing Center and the only reason Tam could move was because of Keefe and Linh. 

“I killed him,” Tam whispered.

“We don’t know that, he can’t be dead,” Linh said firmly.

“Fitz is strong,” Keefe tried but his voice cracked at the end.

Elwin worked tirelessly for hours on end, but in the end, it all came down to hoping Fitz was strong enough. Tam never left his perch on one of the other cots, and Sophie and Keefe traded days to make sure that he took care of himself too. And the moment Fitz woke up Tam didn’t go up to him. He had hurt him. Fitz wouldn’t have wanted to see him.

And yet, his name was the first thing out of his mouth. “/Tam/,” Fitz said even though Keefe was the one next to him. “Is-is he okay? Did I save him?”

A small smile formed on Keefe’s face, “Yeah, you saved him, buddy.”

Tam didn’t say anything until he was back to sleep, he hid in the corner staring in disbelief at Fitz. When he was finally back asleep, Tam whispered, “Why did you save me, you could’ve died.”

“Cause I love you, you idiot,” Fitz whispered back. And Tam never understood how.

Pulling out of the memory he found himself downstairs in the bakery. The front was floor-to-ceiling glass, and there were booths and tables scattered around the floor space. The kitchen was big with hundreds of ingredients that Tam didn’t understand. He knew some, from the nights that Fitz had grabbed some off of the counters and guided his hands. Fitz would probably want him to make something. Often it ended up with a mess everywhere and Fitz laughing at the amount of flour he had over him. 

But the thing he liked most about the bakery was if Tam was downstairs and he was upstairs, no one could touch him. No knives could be thrown, no one could get in without him knowing. He could actually protect Fitz from here. It had been months since the last attempt on their lives, even after the war was over people still were out to hurt them. But Fitz wasn’t going to take another knife for him, Tam wasn’t going to let another person get hurt for him. 

Tam started pulling down the ingredients he remembered, if he staged it like this he could say he was up baking. He remembered where the recipes were, Fitz didn’t need them but he kept them around for the rest of the group. He pulled out a random one that seemed simple, it was a human recipe for a dessert called “brownies”. Sophie had shown him how to bake it once, and before they put it in the oven she gleefully added almost an entire bag of chocolate chips, “For flavor,” she laughed.

He followed the steps which seemed simple enough. It consumed his focus easily, calming his mind from the anxiety. Read the instruction, do the instruction. Easy. The longer he baked though, the more his eyes started to droop. The more he had to read an instruction over and over again. At one point he almost dropped the bowl he was carrying.

He should’ve gone back to bed. But he couldn’t make himself. When he slept his mind filled with terror and memories. It reminded him of past guilt and shadows consumed him. He was afraid of the dark. The dark of the room, the dark of his mind. What was the step again? He swore under his breath. The words seemed to blur.

Right, he was supposed to grab a glass pan to put the batter in. 

Easy enough, it should’ve been but he had to fight his eyes to stay open. 

He had to fight his feet to take a step. One step. Two. Three. Open the cabinet. /This doesn’t normally take as much effort/, he thought distantly but pushed it aside. Grab the smaller pan. Or was it the bigger one?

/Doesn’t matter/, he grabbed one. The world went black for a second and he fought to open his eyes again. One step. Tw- the world went black again. Glass shattered the floor. /Oh/, he thought, he felt glass splinter his feet. He wasn’t wearing shoes or socks. 

“Tam?” Fitz called from somewhere. “Tam? Babe are you okay?”

Finally, he was able to force his eyes open, there was red on the floor. That probably wasn’t a good sign. “Yeah I’m okay go back to sleep,” he said wincing about how easily he lied. 

Fitz poked his head out from behind the wall that covered the staircase, eyebrows already furrowed in concern. “It’s five in the morning,” he said factually.

“You should be asleep, I was just finishing,” not entirely a lie. 

“There’s glass on the floor.” 

“I dropped a pan.”

“Your feet are bleeding,” he said coming behind the counter. 

“I’m fine really, you’ve got a meeting tomorrow you should really get some-” Tam started. He hated this, he hated being a mess in front of Fitz.

“I swear if you say /I/ need sleep I’m gonna throw out you’re brownies before you get to bake them,” Fitz said half-joking half-serious.

Tam rolled his eyes, “Oh no my creations I’m terrified.”

A small smile tugged at his mouth. Grabbing the broom he cleared a path to Tam and cupped his face. “I’m worried about you,” he said the amount of emotion in his eyes caught Tam off guard.

“You shouldn’t have to be,” Tam whispered leaning his forehead to Fitz’s.

“But I am because I care about you. Let me help you,” he pleaded softly, “let me take care of you. Please.”

Tam was too tired to say no, so he sagged into Fitz’s shoulder the weight of his tiredness crashing down at once. Fitz placed a kiss in his hair and Tam smiled into his shoulder. “Sap,” he muttered. 

“I love you too, dork,” Fitz laughed. He pushed Tam away and hummed gently at Tam’s sleepy grumbles. But it was only so he could sweep up his legs and hold him bridal style. 

“I can walk you know.”

“Shush, I’m taking care of you no objections.” Tam hummed once more and leaned his head into his chest to listen to his heartbeat. Eventually, the world went black.

And for the first time in many nights, Tam didn’t dream.