#it’s not a bad movie you are simply looking at it wrong… mantra i repeats about every movie ever | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch48: The Terrible Twos Part 1: More?

Intro: In the fourth year since the snap, Jamie enters the terrible twos.

Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: So this chapter is kind of a little different to the others here really, as it’s almost like a collection of long drabbles detailing their life over 2022. And just a little reminded, Phobias, Steve admits to Katie he has a fear of clowns…keep that in mind! Also linked to this chapter is a smutty little One Shot- Got You By The Chain- Guest writer @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

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 47

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

April 2022

By the fourth anniversary of the Snap, it finally looked like society was moving on. There was still a lot to do, but most schools and Universities were fully functioning, TV shows and Movies were back in production, restaurants and shops seemed to have gotten back to some level of ‘normality’. Whilst places weren’t as buzzing as they had been, it seemed like people were finally taking those baby steps forward, which was the mantra Steve continued to preach at his support groups.

If only it was that easy to follow your own advice.

Steve, and the rest of those of them who had fought Thanos and been spared, would be lying if they said their failure wasn’t still at the back of their minds. But nothing short of a time machine was going to bring any of those stones back. They had to learn to live with it, and for the most they did, their lives had moved on. Tony, Pepper, Steve and Katie had become parents, so they had something to focus on. Natasha, however, was all over the place, focussing even more with Rhodey on trying to track down Clint, the archer having given his vigilante alter-ego a name- Ronin-the word taken to be an idiomatic expression for “vagrant” or “wandering man”, someone who is without a home- or so Katie’s research told them.

‘Ronin’, was still leaving trails of death and destruction all over the place and both Steve and Katie had tried to coax Natasha out of pursuing him too much. As usual, she completely ignored them and had also point blank refused to attend any of the support groups. In the end Steve had stopped asking.

He and Katie found most of their time taken up dealing with Jamie who had entered what the parents now knew why everyone dubbed the terrible twos. He was a nightmare, not necessarily due to bad behaviour but he was so boisterous and such a rough and tumble little boy thanks to the half of him that held the super serum and he was ridiculously clever too. He was constantly up to mischief, which was why now, one Thursday morning Steve was stood in the kitchen, an equal mixture of exasperation and fear flooding his system as he gazed up at his son who was once again sat on top of their large stainless steel fridge freezer, about a foot out of his dad’s reach. This was his favourite activity at the moment and neither Steve nor Katie had no idea how he kept getting up there.

The soldier was currently torn between grabbing a chair to climb up to get him down and being rooted to the spot, not wanting to move in case the tot threw himself off which he was prone to doing.

“Jamie, please come on.” Steve sighed.

“No.” “I’ll give you a cookie if you get down.” Steve pleaded, cursing inwardly at the fact he was resorting to bribery. Jamie cocked his head to one side, clearly weighing up his options and then his face split into a grin.

“Nom!” He grinned and then in a flash launched himself forward.

“Fuck.” Steve cursed, forgetting his language as he stepped back, catching the toddler in his arms, heart in his mouth. Jamie giggled as his dad’s strong arms caught him.

“Don’t do that!” Steve sighed. “Please.” He added weakly.

“Fuck.” Jamie repeated with a laugh and Steve groaned.

“No, we don’t say that.” “Why?”

“It’s a bad word.” Steve explained setting him on the counter in front of him. “Only momma and daddy can say that. And even then we shouldn’t.” He reached for the kitchen cupboard, undoing the child lock before he grabbed the jar and held out a cookie for Jamie.

“Fankoo, Daddy”

“You’re welcome, but that doesn’t mean every time you climb something you get one.” Steve looked at him sternly.

Jamie stared back at him, his mouth full and Steve knew they boy didn’t care one iota about the utter horror he had just put him through. A fact further emphasised when the tot raised his right hand and held his forefinger and middle finger to his eyes, moving them towards his dad.

“Yeah, I am watching you, pal.” Steve arched an eyebrow at him, mentally cursing Tony once again for teaching his son ridiculous habits. “You done?”

Jamie nodded. “More?” “Not a chance.” Steve snorted, lifting him down off the counter and herding him into the living room where he distracted his boy successfully for an hour and a half or so watching Frozen, his current favourite Disney film whilst he checked over his notes for the support groups he was holding later on that afternoon. Then he gave Jamie his lunch, meals being the most painless part of his routine as the kid ate anything you put in front of him, and they set off to meet Katie at the tower.

“Hi Mr Rogers, Hi Jamie!” Soraya, Katie’s PA, greeted them holding up her hand. Jamie leant over the desk in his father’s arms and gave her a hi-five.

“Hi, Sowaya!” He beamed and she smiled back before she turned to Steve. “She’s in the office but you might wanna wait a few seconds before you go in.” Steve was about to ask why, when he heard his wife’s angry voice through the closed door and he grimaced. Someone was getting an absolute earful and he didn’t envy them one bit.

That someone, was Jack Thompson, Katie’s Finance Manager. As part of Stark Industries programme to help orphaned older teenagers post the snap, Katie had given the go head for each major department to recruit interns to give them a spring start and a means to fund themselves. Only for the third day in a row now she had caught Jack ordering his intern to make coffees for the entire office. Not that it wasn’t part of an intern’s initiation, she understood that, but when she had drilled the girl a little more, it seems that was all she was doing, along with photocopying.

“That is not what the programme is about!” She blazed as she leant forward over her desk, Jack lounging in the chair at the other side. He raised an eyebrow at her and that made her bristle even more. “Sorry, I’m not sure what is amusing you about this situation.”

“Nothing, Mrs Rogers.” He shrugged back. “I just think you’re overacting slightly.” “Oh do you?” She asked, her voice raising further. “Well here’s an overreaction for you, you get that girl some proper jobs and activities to work on or you’ll be out of here faster than my two year old can scale the fridge.” Jack frowned

“Which is fast” Katie clarified, realising that there were all sorts of things wrong with that analogy.

“Things were a lot different with your brother at the helm.” Jack looked at her. Katie crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him.

“Well I’m not my brother. If you don’t like it, feel free to leave your resignation letter on my desk.”

Jack eyeballed her for a moment before he nodded. “Understood, loud and clear.” “Good.” She stood up whilst he did the same and she smoothed down her white A-lined high wasted skirt and white blouse. Her black stilettoes clicked on the wooden flooring of her office and she opened the door, nodding out of it. Jack left, not even glancing around until a small voice rang out across the room.

“Momma shouted!” Jamie giggled gleefully. Jack stopped, looked at the boy, then to Steve who simply smiled at the man before he stalked away.

“Jerk.” Katie mumbled under her breath before she beamed at her boys. “Hi!”

“HI Momma!” Jamie grinned, wriggling until Steve popped him down and he ran to his mom to give her a hug. Steve had a split second to perve on his wife, because damned she looked good in that office outfit, before Jamie was in her arms, his mom not caring if his shoes or hands were going to dirty her clothes. She placed a kiss to his cheek as Steve walked towards her dropping one of his own onto her lips.

“Yuk!” Jamie pulled a face.

“So what had he done to earn himself the full wrath of my baby momma?” Steve jerked his head towards the door and Katie groaned.

“Just being awkward when it comes to the interns. I don’t think he’s going to last much longer.” “Good.” Soraya shot. “He’s a creep.”

Katie grinned. “So you tell me.”

Soraya shrugged. “I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

“Hmm.” Katie pondered, before she shrugged. “What’s my diary like for the rest of the day?”

“You’re clear now until four and then you have a conference call with a couple of potential authors for SIP.”

“Why don’t you do it from home?” Steve looked at her. “You were here at seven this morning.” Katie pondered before nodding. Placing Jamie on the floor she headed back into her office and grabbed her jacket and her bag, before linking her hand round her son’s.

“If anyone needs me, can you tell them to email or call my mobile, please?”

Soraya nodded “See you tomorrow, Mrs Rogers. Bye Captain, bye Jamie!”

“Bye bye!” Jamie waved as Katie led him to the elevator, Steve holding his other hand.

“You had lunch?” Steve looked over at her and she shook her head.

“It’s been manic.”

“Good, because neither have I. Thought we could grab something before I head off to the group.”

Katie grinned and leaned up to give him a kiss. “Perfect.” “Lunch?” Jamie piped up and Steve looked down at him.

“Buddy, you ate an entire bowl of spaghetti at home.” “But, I’m hungry.” He pouted and Katie looked at Steve.

“He gets that off you.” She smirked and Steve rolled his eyes.

“Who does he get climbing the fridge off?” He asked.

“Again?”

“Yeah, had to bribe him down with a cookie.”

Katie snorted. “Well I don’t know about the climbing bit but he definitely gets the negotiation skills from me”

“It wasn’t a negotiation.” Steve scoffed, as the doors opened on the ground floor “It was out and out extortion.”

Katie laughed as they stepped out into the reception, heading to the front doors which opened automatically.

“Let’s go to the deli round the corner.” She suggested and Steve nodded, positioning himself on the outside of the sidewalk as always, Jamie on the inside of his two parents as they slowed their pace to allow their son to walk the block or so round the corner.

“Momma?” He asked tugging on hand. “Yes baby?” “I haff tuna?”

“If you want tuna, yeah.”

At that point Steve, who had been watching the two of them, turned and almost walked straight into another pedestrian.

“Oh, sorry Ma’am.” He nodded to her at the same time Jamie uttered.

“Fuck.” Katie stopped dead and turned to look down at him, her voice growing stern. “James Anthony Samuel Rogers, what did you just say?”

He blinked up at her as Steve groaned, crouching down in front of his son. “I told you that was a bad word.” He softly chastised the two year old.

“Sowee Momma,Sowee daddy.” Jamie’s eyes looking down at his feet as he toed the sidewalk slightly with his little sneakers.

“Thank you for apologising.” Steve ruffled his hair as he stood up. “Don’t say it again.” “Okay.” “Where did he hear that?” Katie looked accusingly at Steve and he hesitated for a moment.

“Tony?” He shrugged, a sheepish smile crossing his face as he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

Katie narrowed her eyes. “You’re still a terrible liar.”

******

June 2022

“Now don’t go mad Spangles.” Tony immediately greeted Steve as he shut the car door and headed across the lawn area to the side of the lake house. Instantly Steve narrowed his eyes.

“What have you done?” He asked, following Tony down a well-trodden path to the back of the house where a small play tent was erected.

“Nothing.” Tony shrugged, as Steve followed him round to the back of the house. “Well, nothing bad, just…”

“Stop, or I’ll shoot!” Steve heard Morgan speak before she popped her head out of the tent, and held her left hand out in front of her. She was wearing a red glove with some form of battery powered light strapped to the palm. Before Steve could comment, Jamie followed, the same item on his right.

“Pew pew!” He grinned, making the noise at his dad. Steve took a deep breath and scowled at Tony.

“Really?”

“Hey look, it was this or the actual gauntlets so,” he shrugged and then Steve really did give him a glare. Tony held his hands up. “I was in the garage tinkering and they saw them and wanted one of their own so…”

“Iron Man!” Jamie grinned up at his dad “Look Daddy, like Unca Nee!”

“And I suppose those just have to come back to my house with the pair of them tonight?” Steve narrowed his eyes at Tony. “You know, I can always refuse to babysit.”

“Err, no you can’t.” Tony smirked. “First off we had Jamie last night so you and Katie could have a night alone, and second off…” “Uncle Pangles!” Morgan threw herself at him, her arms wrapping around his legs. “We can play tonight, I stay at yours!”

“…you can’t resist her Stark charm.” Tony smirked as Steve sighed, bending down to give his niece a kiss on the head.

Katie tried not to laugh at the look on Steve’s face as he recounted the incident later that evening as they sat out in the back round the fire pit torching S’mores with Emmy. Jamie and Morgan were fast asleep in Jamie’s room.

“Well Dad,” Emmy sat back and looked at him, her brown eyes flashing with mischief, “sometimes you gotta fight fire with fire…”

“What you got in mind?” He looked at her.

“We’re pretty good at art, right?” She shrugged and Steve nodded. “Let’s put it to use.”

So the next morning, as soon as the hardware shop opened, Emmy and Steve were in there gathering supplies for the Great Rogers Revenge plan, sharing a victorious hi-five whilst they loaded the trunk of the car up with their ammo. Katie told them she didn’t want to know what they were planning and she meant it, steering clear of Steve’s man-cave for the rest of the morning, calling them back to the house at eleven ish for a coffee and a slice of banana bread when Natasha dropped in. The two women could hear Steve and Emmy sniggering as they approached and when they walked into the kitchen, Katie was greeted by the pair of them holding up their finished items.

“Oh my God!” Natasha spluttered. There was a slight pause, before Katie cracked up laughing as Steve and Emmy held up their masterpieces. They had painted the insides of two small metal trash can lids to look like replicas of Steve’s shield.

“I got the idea from a picture in my history books.” Emmy said, grinning “Some young kids in a Brooklyn street after the war, playing with the lids like they were shields…” “Perfect handles to hold them with, look.” Steve grinned, flipping his round “And they’re spray varnished too so the paint won’t rub off.”

“Cap!” Jamie shrieked as the sight of the items Steve and Emmy were holding.

“Wow!” Morgan looked up in awe “Is one for me?” “Sure is, Moo.” Steve bent down and showed the two children how to grab the shield with their hands on the handles and, once he was confident they had got it, they shot out of the back door and down onto the grass, Lucky leaping up from where he had been snoozing under a tree and heading inside out of the way.

“Just do me a favour and don’t show teach ‘em to throw them.” Katie sighed, watching as Jamie was busy holding his shield in front of him as Morgan aimed her faker repulsor beam clad hand at him.

Steve shook his head, grabbing a piece of cake. “No point, we tried and it doesn’t work. They don’t have the same weight or trajectory.”

“Yeah, they just kinda hover for a bit and then fall down.” Emmy shrugged, her mouth full of banana bread. “This is good, mom.”

“Thanks.” Katie smiled “Nat you want another piece?”

“No thanks.” she shook her head, “don’t wanna ruin our lunch.” “Lunch?” Steve paused, the slice of cake halfway to his mouth.

“I told you last night,” Katie rolled her eyes, “me and Nat are off for lunch and shopping.”

“You wanna come Em?” Nat asked.

“Nope.” She shook her head. “I wanna be here when Uncle Tony picks these two up.”

She fist bumped Steve and Katie shook her head at the pair of them.

“Well, I do not. Gimme two mins Nat and I’ll grab my shoes.”

**** “So, Steve and I are taking the kids away in a month or so, why don’t you come with us?” Katie asked as they sat in a small tapas bar, just off Times Square. Nat pondered for a while before she shook her head.

“I can’t leave the compound.”

“Why not?” “If something goes wrong, I need to be there.” “Nat,” Katie sighed, “it isn’t your responsibility. The Avengers, we’re not…” Natasha cut her off, “Don’t, please,” she shook her head, “it’s my job. If I can help in even the smallest of ways then I should.” Katie bit her lip before she reached over for her glass of water. She understood that in all fairness, Steve had gone through his own phase of feeling useless not long after the snap but had found his niche for sure with the support groups. If this was how Nat was dealing with it then…

“Anyway, enough about that.” Nat changed the subject. “Tell me more about the delightful language my God-Son has been learning.” Katie groaned. “Did I tell you about the whole, oh Fuck thing a few months back?” “Yeah.”

“Well a few nights ago we’re sat at the table and he suddenly shouts ‘Daddy, fuck.’ So, of course Steve tells him off. But he doesn’t stop. ‘Momma, fuck, Emmy, fuck…’ and Steve’s getting more and more exasperated, trying to tell him to stop, and wasn’t until Jamie pointed to the table and shouts ‘need fuck’ we realised he wanted a fork for his pasta and not the spoon we had given him.” Katie grinned as Natasha laughed. “Honestly Nat, I thought Steve was gonna have a heart attack.”

“Yeah he doesn’t like that kinda language.” Natasha grinned biting into a breadstick.

“I wouldn’t mind but he taught Jamie that word, not intentionally of course. And then there was the jackass incident.”

“What?”

“Someone pulled out in front of me at a junction. I forgot he was in the car so I slammed on the horn and flipped him off shouting ‘jackass’ out the window.” Katie took another drink of her water “Didn’t think anything of it until we were leaving Tony’s later that afternoon. I wound the back windows down in the car so Jamie could wave. Only he doesn’t wave, he raises his middle finger and calls Tony a jackass”

Natasha laughed. “Well, he’s not wrong.”

“Funnily enough that’s what Steve said.” Katie grinned. “Mind you, what he did at the supermarket the other day tops it all.” She took a bite of her garlic mushrooms. “He’s sat in the trolley and loud as you like shouts ‘I got a woody in my pants’. The woman in the aisle next to us just looks at us and Steve starts trying to explain that he was wearing Toy Story underpants, I mean…”

Natasha spluttered out her calamari, choking slightly as she started to laugh, Katie grinned before she too chuckled. It was funny now she thought about it. Tto be honest Katie had found it funny at the time, Steve was the one that had flushed bright red. At that point her phone began to ring and she fished it out of her bag.

“Uh oh.” She winced and looked at Nat

“Stark?”

She nodded “Hi Tone…” “Oh don’t hi Tone me,” his voice hit her ears, “your husband is a grade A…”

“I hope you don’t have Morgan in the car whilst you’re being so angry.” Katie jokingly chastised her brother

“A trash can lid. A god-damned trashcan lid.” “Yeah well you send our kid home with some of your shit, we’re gonna repay the favour, now if you don’t mind…”

She cut the call and saw that she had a message from Steve.

Game, set and match to Spangles ;-)

She snorted.

“Are they ever gonna stop this tit for tat with the kids?” Natasha asked.

Katie shook her head, smiling. In all honesty she kind of liked the friendly little feud they had going. It was all good natured, and she enjoyed the closeness of her family. “Nope. Sometimes I forget exactly who the kids are. The pair of them act worse than two year olds.”

******

August 2022

Katie suspected it was for that reason that they had returned earlier that night with a selection of seafood which Katie had enjoyed preparing for them, along with numerous salads, potatoes and some local fruits for afters. The four had gorged themselves and the kids, after no protest at all due to them being exhausted, were now tucked up in bed leaving the married couple to take in their last night alone.

“No?” Katie looked at Steve.

“He kept asking me how much I wanted for her.” Steve smirked and Katie laughed. “She thought it was hilarious too, until I offered to sell her for three lobsters and a couple mahi-mahi.”

“Oh I bet she loved that.” Katie looked at him, as he shrugged, drinking from his beer bottle. “Mind you, it is kinda freaky, just how much she’s grown. I mean she’s fifteen this October.” “Tell me about it.” Steve grumbled “We got all that stuff to come yet.” “What stuff?” Katie asked, eyeing him over her wine glass.

“You know,” he waved the hand that was clutching his beer, “boys and…whatever.” Katie snorted. “What you gonna do when she does finally bring a boy back to meet us?” She asked, swinging her bare legs up and placing her feet in his lap.

“Be waiting with a shot gun.” Steve grumbled, his spare hand dropping to her smooth skin, fingers gently tracing up and down her calf.

“That’s a dramatic shovel talk.” Katie raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh I won’t talk. Just hold it across my lap and look at him.” “You’re terrible.” Katie sniggered as his hand gently continued its ministrations on her leg.

Steve chuckled and Katie glanced out over the bay, sighing slightly It had been a great few weeks, just one person really missing.

“I wish Nat would have come.”

“She’s worrying me,” Steve sighed. “It’s not healthy, being cooped up in that place, alone.”

“I know.” Katie nodded. “But there’s not much we can do other than be there for her.”

Steve took a breath, laying his head back against his chair as the warm sea breeze hit them. Katie glanced over at where he was sat, his skin slightly more tanned, the freckles that sprang over his nose during the summer were now even more pronounced although they couldn’t rival hers. His hair had been cropped short again, and he’d even sprouted the thin smattering of a beard over the last two weeks, although he’d told Katie sternly he wasn’t growing it out again.

“I’m Captain America at those support groups, and he doesn’t have a beard.”

As Katie drank him in she noticed that over the years, whilst he had aged slightly, he hadn’t changed nearly as much as she had. All the studies, backed up by Banner’s research, estimated that Steve would age at a rate approximately fifteen to twenty years younger than the average person. At some points this worried her, as she knew that in fifteen years or so he would only look to be in his late thirties when they would both be realistically, going off the years spent living and not buried in ice, midway through their fifties, but that was something she’d known before she had married him.

And she supposed that as long as he didn’t care how old she looked it didn’t matter.

“Want a photo or summi’k” Steve asked, his eyes on his wife, as she was simply looking at him, clearly contemplating something. She smiled at the way his Brooklyn drawl dripped off his voice as it always did when he was relaxed. He cocked his head slightly to one side, smiling gently at her as his beer bottle rest against his leg. Deciding she wanted distracting from the ridiculous worry that had sprung up on her, she grinned and moved her feet before she stood up. Taking the bottle off him she placed it on the table and settled on his lap, her knees either side of his thighs, as he smirked up at her.

“Summik sounds good.” She muttered kissing him hard. Their tongues began their usual dance until he pulled back and looked at her, sweeping her hair off her face. Simply put, in his eyes, his wife was stunning. Her freckles which always became more pronounced in the sun spread across her nose and her cheeks, giving her an even more youthful look than normal. Her hair was now a few inches above her waist, having grown down from the shoulder length cut she had sported whilst they’d been on the run and was falling over her face in a mass of beach tangled curls, which Steve adored. Her figure, Jesus, he could look at her all day, curves across her hips, breasts…he’d been exceptionally pleased that, despite her confidence issues over her body not being what it used to be, she’d been wearing a two-piece swimsuit, even if it was one that covered her midriff. He knew better now that to try and argue that he didn’t give a damned about the fact her stomach was slightly less flat than it used to be, or her hips were wider, Steve simply let her get on with dressing how she felt comfortable and lavished affection and praise on her every chance he got, because frankly, there wasn’t a think about his wife he didn’t adore.

He questioned every, single day how he had gotten so goddamned lucky and it had been him she’d chosen to spend the rest of her life with.

“What’s wrong?” She frowned, noticing the contemplative look in his eyes.

“Nothing at all, Baby.” He shook his head, reaching down and pulling off the crochet dress she was wearing over her swim suit top and denim shorts. “Just thinking about how I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you look so beautiful.” She grinned as his fingers moved to undo the string that held her top around her neck, causing it to fall forward leading her bare from the waist up. He simply admired her for a moment as her hands wound into his hair and she gave a soft tug, causing his head to tilt upwards to look at her. “Not even when we got married?”

“Hmmm.” He contemplated, her lips hovering near his as she leant down, his hands creeping up her sides. “Maybe, but you weren’t my baby momma then.”

Katie grinned, she loved it when he called her that. Gently kissing him she pulled back and looked at him. “I’ve not changed that much have I?” She teased as she pushed down on his crotch and he groaned.

“Nope,” he muttered before kissing her hard, grinding his hips up against hers.

“Take me to bed Captain.” She murmured into his mouth, at him with suggestive eyes which peered from underneath heavy lids.

“Yes ma’am” he grinned, and in a swoop he’d picked her up and carried her inside.

**** Chapter 48 Part 2

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x original female character #Katie Stark #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

56 notes · View notes

keanureevesisbae · 4 years ago

Text

Protection - Chapter 1

Summary: Mia Makaruku meets her new neighbor, but he isn’t at all what she expected him to be.

August Walker x Mia Makaruku (ofc)

Wordcount: 3.2k

Warnings: Mentions of a car accident.

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

My muscles scream bloody murder, as I trudge through the hallways. Did coach Riley have to be so gruesome today? Goodness me, I don’t even know if I’m gonna make it back to my car. However, when I see the coach standing further down the hall, I quickly straighten my back and ignore the slight dulling pain I feel in my ankle and the rest of my leg muscles. ‘Mia,’ coach Riley says in a stern tone as I come closer to her.

Oh no, I think to myself. I did something terribly wrong. If she uses that tone after the first training of the week, it can only mean I’m in severe trouble. ‘Yes coach?’ I hesitantly ask.

Coach Riley’s looks indicate she is strict. Her blonde hairs are pulled back in a tight knot, a pair of glasses with a thick black frame rests on her nose and the eyeliner that hardens her eyes. While the indication is absolutely one hundred percent correct, you eventually find out she is a sweetheart deep underneath that hard exterior.

When I first arrived in Chicago five years ago, I had no idea what Thanksgiving entailed and I was ready to spend it alone in my apartment. She invited—correction: forced—me to spend time with her family, because she did not want me to sit alone in my apartment on Thanksgiving.

With my last foster family being everything but a great success, it felt good to be welcomed with open arms into a family. I’ve had my fair share of families and while they were all sweet, the last one was a total nightmare. Being slightly traumatized by the experience, it was good to be hugged by a grandma I had never seen before.

Hugs from grandma’s do wonders.

‘You did good today,’ coach says.

Great, now I know for sure I have severely fucked up. If coach Riley starts with a compliment, she is going to break some pretty bad news within a few seconds. I have trained with her for a little over five years. I know her and her odd and slightly crude way of communicating.

‘Okay?’ I say, waiting for the bomb to drop.

‘However, I want you to take it easy, so next training you’re going to train with Tristan on the side of the field.’

‘Come on, coach,’ I whine. ‘Why?’

‘Upcoming Saturday it’s the second to last game of the year. I need you top fit then.’

‘But I am top fit. Honestly!’

Coach Riley isn’t impressed, but to be honest: when is she ever? If this woman has made a decision, she’ll simply power through, no discussion possible. ‘You take it easy during tomorrows training and you listen carefully to Tristan. I noticed a limp on the field just now.’

‘There wasn’t a limp,’ I say. ‘I swear, it’s nothing to worry ab— Okay, I’ll take it easy tomorrow,’ I quickly say when I see her cocked eyebrow that does not bode well.

She finally smiles. ‘Good. Now scocch, I don’t want to look at your face any longer.’

Just when you think she is finally a little bit approachable and kind, she thankfully does this, because her smile was nearly creeping me out. I can’t stop my chuckle. ‘See you tomorrow, coach,’ I say, holding up my hand as I continue to walk through the hallways.

The closer I get to the exit, the colder it becomes. When I’m training, I somehow forget about the ice cold temperatures. However, when I’m not training, which is the majority of the day, I remember we are nearing the winterbreak and that handling these types of temperatures, is not one of my strengths.

I tense up when I step outside and if my ankle wasn’t slightly bothering me, I’d run to my car. When I reached the vehicle, I quickly step in and start to heat it up. My car, unfortunately, isn’t the most advanced and it takes quite some time before it’s even remotely warm. I shiver in the drivers seat. My phone peeps in my pocket and I pull it out, to check the notification that popped up on my screen.

Reminder to yourself: YOU NEED TO DO SOME GROCERIES. GET YOUR FAT ASS CAT SOMETHING TO EAT.

No, no, no, I forgot. I totally forgot. I curse morning-me for sleeping in today. If I had just done groceries this morning before practice, I could’ve go home now. Why was I lazy and chose an extra hour of sleep over doing something actually productive?

I drive off the parking lot, wave to some of my teammates and go to the nearest grocery store. If I have a clear idea of what I want before I go into the store, I can actually manage to do this pretty swiftly and then go home, so I can curl up on the couch to watch yet another cheesy Christmas movie. I desperately need to buy some food for my cat, some eggs and chocolate and… Do I need more?

This is why one makes shopping lists.

‘You idiot,’ I mumble to myself, as I park the car in front of the store. I get out and walk to the entrance. While I’m strolling through the aisles, to at least get the eggs, cat food and chocolate I do know I need, I hear some girls giggling behind me.

I look over my shoulder to my right and see two young girls standing at the produce section. When they look away, I see a glimpse of their red cheeks and notice they are both wearing Chicago Red Star jerseys. I can’t—and won’t—stop my smile. ‘Hi,’ I say to them, causing them to carefully wave at me.

They shyly wave back. ‘Are you Mia Makaruku?’ one girl asks when she finally found the courage to do so.

I nod. ‘The one and only.’

They look at each other and exchange some excited looks. ‘Can we get a picture?’

This has been my favorite part of the job so far. I mean, sure, I love soccer with all my life, however seeing girls this age cheering me on during the competitions and hearing about how they watch clips of me, so they can learn from my techniques, makes me realize I love that even more. They call me their role model and with the status I have, I can actually be one for them. It’s a job I should take seriously and I do.

When kids tell me they are going to try and watch the European Championship for Women’s Soccer, because I am on the Dutch National Team, I try even harder to be the best player of the competition and be a model for them to look up to. Be someone for them I wished I had when I was younger.

I nod again at the girls. ‘Of course. I love your shirts. Tell me: whose name do you have on the back?’

They start to laugh and turn around, showing the backs of their shirts. ‘Yours of course!’

◎ ◎ ◎

Life hasn’t always been sunshine and rainbows for me. I just barely think about it nowadays, since it only leaves me with more questions than answers and I’d rather not wander in the dark like that. It’s weird to think about the things I do remember and don’t.

I do remember the second we skidded off the road. I don’t remember I had a mother or father or three brothers with me in the car. I do remember eventually taking the officer’s hand and despite repeating my name like mantra, kept asking him if he had heard my name correctly. I don’t remember any bodies on the scene, because there weren’t any and I also don’t know how their bodies disappeared.

It’s hard sometimes, knowing there is a memory inside my head that I simply can’t reach, but also not knowing what I’m missing in life. Did my parents love me? Did I have a good bond with my brothers? Was there a specific reason I wasn’t in the system? Why weren’t there other people with the same last name in the Netherlands who recognized me?

I moved from foster family to foster family, while trying to regain my memories by visiting multiple specialists. I went to a lot of places. To England, Ireland, France and Luxembourg, but no one could help me out. At the age of twelve, they simply stopped trying, because it was no use anyways and there was one family back in the Netherlands who insisted on me staying in one place for a change.

Thankfully they did, however I only stayed with them for four years, before I moved to my final family, that was a hell to put it mildly.

Finally, for the first time in yearsI wasn’t going from one specialist to another and there was one place where I was always—despite the family—welcome: my soccer team. In all those years of me visiting specialists, there was always one thing I looked for: a ball to kick around. Soccer was my love, my passion and the only thing I started to care about.

And now I have managed to not only make a name for myself in the USA, but also worldwide. When I was nineteen, I debuted in the Dutch National Team during the European Championship and my performance there was what caught the attention of the Chicago Red Stars. I could leave the small SC Heerenveen in the Netherlands behind and go to the USA. I had seen the American National Team. They were exceptionally good and now I got to play alongside some of them.

My first World Championship was when I was twenty one and the Dutch team was in the finals against the USA. Despite my two goals, the USA was too good and beat us with 4-2. Sure, I was disappointed, but still I was very pleased with the fact that the Netherlands became second and it was such a highlight in my seemingly short professional soccer career thus far.

I managed to overcome all these things and still be the person I am today. Since I can’t remember my past, I made it my mission in life to make the most of my future.

Don’t ask me how, but I managed to come back from the store with three full bags. Apparently, if you wander through the aisles long enough, you’ll find tons of excuses to buy crap you didn’t even need in the first place.

I’m finally back at my apartment building and the automatic doors slide open as I reach them. I walk towards the reception and I say with a smile: ‘Hello Harold, how are you today?'

Harold, the clerk behind the reception who is nearing his pension, greets me with his signature smile and I see the two familiar dimples form in his cheeks. ‘Hello, miss Mia, I’m doing splendid this Monday. How was your training today?’

I simply shrug. ‘It was okay, but I have to take it easy now.’ I can’t help but to roll my eyes. ‘According to my coach, I was “slightly limping” and she needs me top fit this Saturday.’

He scrunches up his nose. ‘But my dear, I think you are incapable of taking things easy. Isn’t your coach aware of that?’

I can’t help but laugh. I always like to talk to Harold, it’s so easy to strike up a conversation with him. ‘I think she just wants to bully me. Is there by the way any mail for me?’

‘There certainly is. Three envelopes for you. Almost makes you seem like a very important lady.’ He sends me a playful wink. ‘Oh, before I forget: I told you about the apartment next to you being sold, right?’

I nod. ‘Does this mean Mystery Person is finally moving in?’ I ask.

Harold nods. ‘He moved in today.’

‘Ah, it’s a man. Is he hot?’

He shrugs. ‘He is pretty stuffy and a bit authoritarian looking. I was hoping for someone as radiant as you. I think we need more people like you around here, not a copy of miss Thornhill.’

I throw my long brown hair over my shoulder. ‘Well, what can I say?’ I chuckle. ‘Not everyone is a ray of sunshine like yours truly. Is there mail for him as well? I can bring it to him.’

‘An envelope did arrive, indeed. I don’t think he will go down here to pick it up. We barely made eye contact today. I hardly even know if he is aware there is a reception, let alone that I’m the clerk.’ He hands me the other yellow envelope and says: ‘Are you sure you want to do this, miss?’

‘Absolutely positive. It might be nice to get to know my next door neighbor. Let’s hope he is not a gigolo. I really can’t use sleepless nights anymore. I have two important games coming up, I need my rest.’

‘Mister Toriello was quite the man,’ Harold laughs. ‘Thank you, my dear, for doing this.’

‘No problem, Harold. See you later!’ I walk to the elevator and hold my card in front of the scanner. The doors slide open and when I get in, I press button number nine. I look at the name on the envelope. It’s actually addressed with a sticker, no handwriting, which I find so impersonal.

A. Walker

A. Walker is probably the most generic name I’ve ever heard. This man could be anybody. Would he be bald, have a beer belly and burps all the time or would he be young, attractive and actually a chance for me to leave my forever alone status behind?

While that would be nice, Harold did say that the man was quite stuffy and authoritarian looking.

As someone with barely any date experience (none at all, actually), I’d say stuffy and authoritarian looking isn’t really my type, but never say never right?

The doors open and I step out on my own floor. I walk through the broad hallways and stop in front of apartment number 943. From behind the door, I can hear someone dragging furniture around the apartment and an occasional male grunt. I knock on the door and just hope that he can hear me. I don’t want to start banging on the door like an idiot.

Thankfully, he did hear me, because footsteps approach the door and when it swings open, my eyes widen.

The man standing in the doorway, does not match the generic sounding A. Walker name at all. He is tall, with broad shoulders and the shortsleeved shirt he is wearing, totally accentuates his muscled biceps. I mean, the body is a total A+ (I don’t think I have ever seen someone this buff, while still being proportionate), his face on the other hand… I mean, he does have a beautifully sculpted face and it looks rather perfect, don’t get me wrong, but he looks so angry with that deep frown between his brows and the mustache isn’t really my thing either. Kinda ruins his entire face, if I’m being honest. ‘Who are you?’ he asks, his voice monotone and already bored.

That is not a good start.

‘I’m Mia,’ I introduce myself with a smile, because smiles make people comfortable and this man does not look comfortable. ‘I live next door, in apartment 944. I brought you your mail.’ I extend my arm, so I can hand him the yellow envelope. ‘Thought it would be nice, since we’re neighbors after all.’

He rips the envelope out of my hand and is actually inspecting the seal on it. I am deeply offended. Why on earth would he think that low of me? As if I would snoop through other people’s mail.

After his thorough inspection, he looks at me again. His eyes take me in and leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms in front of his broad chest. The shirt has a slight v neck and is that a tiny bit of chest hair I detect?

I’m almost expecting something condescending leaving his lips (he seems like the type), but A. Walker doesn’t say a word. He simply stares at me and now I kinda regret bringing his mail with me.

He looks and acts like an utter asshole.

‘What’s your name?’ I carefully ask him. Despite him looking like an absolute dick, I do think this is a man you might want to have on your good side. After all, he is my neighbor, I don’t want him to hate me, especially since from the looks of it this man can break me in half with just his pinky, which is intimidating on its own.

‘August Walker,’ he says, tilting his head, as he seems to scan my entire face. ‘Aren’t you that soccer player?’

Before I can even stop it, a smile breaks out on my face. I always like it when people acknowledge the fact that I’m a soccer player. I worked really hard to get where I am now and when people recognize me as that soccer player, it makes me happy. ‘I am,’ I say with an even brighter smile.

Maybe he isn’t so bad after all…

‘I hate women’s soccer.’

I’m dumbfounded. Why on earth does he have to be so rude? What on earth did I do to him to deserve this? What a fucking dickhead. I can’t believe I was actually trying to make a good impression on him. Maybe I don’t want him to be on my good side. Maybe I sort of miss mister Toriello now, with his late night adventures with very noisy female customers. At least he was nice enough to bring me cookies every now and then, to apologize for the noise.

I highly doubt August Walker knows how to bake cookies, let alone buy some of them to apologize for the inconvenience, whatever that may be.

‘Why?’ I ask, as my expression falters.

‘It’s stupid,’ he simply states. To make it even worse, he adds a shrug, as if it’s a well known fact and not just some stupid opinion. ‘Not as advanced as male soccer.’

I frown, as I try to cover up the fact I’m deeply hurt. ‘Well, that’s okay. To each their own,’ I say to him. ‘If we are being frank here: I think your mustache is pretty stupid.’

He simply raises his eyebrows, while his eyes still look bored and annoyed. ‘You do?’ he asks me. ‘Why is that?’

‘I don’t know. It makes you look like a pedophile, really. Have a good day, mister Walker.’ I walk towards my own door and barge inside.

Who gave mister August Walker the right to be this rude to me, someone who he barely knows? What a piece of shit.

My big orange cat Bobo walks up to me and he starts to meow, pulling me out of my racing thoughts.

The hairy companion makes me instantly forget about my new neighbor. ‘Hi, Bobo,’ I say with a chuckle. ‘I missed you too, little fella.’ I place the bags on the floor, before I lift him up, to press tons of kisses on his head. He purrs in my ear. ‘I bought you some food, so that means you can finally stop putting your head in my bowl and be a decent cat from now on.’

‘Meow.’

‘That’s what I thought.’

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #henry cavill x asian ofc #henry cavill x soccer player #henry cavill x mia makaruku #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfic #august walker x ofc #august walker #august walker x asian ofc #august walker x oc #august walker x mia makaruku #mia makaruku #asian ofc

83 notes · View notes

suphoshi · 5 years ago

Photo

TEMPERED GLASS | Park Chanyeol x female reader

Genre: Angst, some fluff

Warnings: possible triggers for anyone with anxiety/panic disorders, a few bad words... can’t really think of anything else

Word count: 6,594

Love is patient, love is kind.

It does not envy, it does not boast.

It is not proud. It does not dishonor others.

It is not self-seeking.

It is not easily angered.

It keeps no record of wrongs.

Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices in the truth.

It always protects. Always trusts. Always hopes. Always perseveres.

Love never fails.

Love never fails. It doesn’t. It can’t. How could it fail? You have Chanyeol. You have him, so you have everything. So why are you empty? His body in the same bed as you, but where was his soul? Your tears filling the shower, answer-less prayers to feel his touch. Did he smile? Did he ever smile, or was it a dream? No, if anything it was a nightmare. He said he loved you. He did. Didn’t he? He said it before, you can remember his voice, down on one knee. Love never fails.

Right?

The voice in your head is too loud, and you just want Chanyeol to kiss you

Chanyeol used to be your favorite Sunday morning. Light streaming through the window, arm draped over your waist, soft snores in your ear. It was the best sound you had ever heard because it came from the person you loved the most on earth. You’d run your hands through his thick, messy hair and wake him up with kisses on his cheek. His dimples would sink in with a smile and eventually he’d pounce on you, kissing you everywhere but your lips. He tickled your soul in so many ways, made a home out of his heart just for you.

“I love you.”

You missed those days, where your biggest worry was making dinner, hoping he would like it despite the fact that you couldn’t cook for anything.

Now you worried about everything.

‘Will he come home tonight?’, ‘Is he working?’, ‘Has he eaten?’, ‘Who is he talking to?’, ‘Why doesn’t he smile anymore?’

The endless stream of questions barraged your thoughts from the second you woke up in the morning to the second you closed your eyes at night. It was maddening.

At first, he just got home late, always pushed it off as being busy, telling you he missed you. Always kissing you goodnight. Then the busy days turned to busy weeks. Then to busy months. You couldn’t remember the last time he even said goodnight, let alone kissed you.

You could feel your soul splitting day by day, a piece of you missing in every moment that went by where he didn’t speak to you. It felt like a punishment, the deafening silence he thrust upon you, but you didn’t know what you did to deserve it. Didn’t know when your Chanyeol became something that was no longer yours.

“I’m working late this week.” He said quietly, interrupting the ever-constant thoughts racing through your mind. You sat cross legged on the bed, picking at the chipped nail polish on your toes, looking up to find him pulling a hoodie over his head.

“Oh?” It’s all you could form over the sinking feeling in your heart, chest deflating at the thought of another night alone. It wasn’t any better than him being there, backs facing each other while you slept, no words, no warmth, but still. At least he was there.

He simply hummed in response before pulling a beanie over his head and grabbing his phone. He didn’t even spare you a glance, let alone a goodbye before walking out of the room. He used to lay in bed with you before work, holding you tight to his chest, milking every second he could before he had to leave. He’d tell you over and over how much he loved you, how he wished he could stay home forever.

The cold you felt around you now when you heard the front door open and close now was almost numbing. Almost.

You walked into the bathroom and somehow found the will to turn the shower on. The hot water was scalding, but that was okay because at least it took your thoughts away from spending another night alone. You stood under he steaming stream until you felt too dizzy to stand, then you sat until the water turned cold, tears mixing with the drops that pooled down your cheeks, fear gripping you like a knife when there was nothing left to distract you from the thoughts in your head.

‘Is my marriage over?’, ‘Does he hate me?’, ‘Will he leave?’

You pressed your hands over your ears and pulled your knees to your chest, sobs wracking through you like a freight train. Your throat grew hoarse while you sat there, crying to an empty house that didn’t used to feel so empty, body shaking until you felt hollow inside, your heart a rattling sack that pushed blood through barren vessels.

Chanyeol was supposed to love you forever.

“I got you a surprise, don’t look.”

You closed your eyes as if you could relive the memory again. Held out your hand in the shower like you did years ago when he asked for it. You could almost feel him placing the ring on your left hand and opened your eyes to see where it laid now, recalled every moment of that night like it was your favorite movie.

“You are the only person who can handle me. At my best and my worst. You love me like I love you. And I want to love you forever.”

You smiled at the diamond that you’d never taken off, the thought of his words alone causing a shiver to run down your spine. It broke your heart. You covered your mouth and bit back the next wave of tears that begged to take over, the ring suddenly feeling too heavy, too meaningless. ‘How can I make him love me again?’

“Marry me?”

His smile. Down on one knee in front of you, eyes glowing, heart racing. You couldn’t recall the last time you saw him smile like that.

Chanyeol was supposed to love you forever. The thought that he didn’t anymore broke something so deep inside that you wished to feel empty. Wished you could float down the drain with all of the water that trickled around you and never come back up, a single drop of water lost in an ocean full of wonders, a place where you could hide from reality, hide from the devastation that was your life.

Instead, you pulled yourself off of the shower floor, turned the water off, and stood in front of the mirror. You went through the motions of brushing your teeth, combing your hair. You touched your cheeks and pushed your lips up into a smile that immediately fell when you moved your hands away. ‘You can be happy this way’, ‘you can love him even if he doesn’t love you’.

You should have put clothes on and gone grocery shopping. Cleaned the house. Done the laundry. Read a book. You stared at your broken reflection in the mirror and wondered how easy it would have been to break the glass, something to match how you felt inside. Something to make you feel a little less alone.

No, you couldn’t find the strength to do anything but crawl into bed naked, will yourself to sleep, and dream of Chanyeol’s smile.

Mornings were pretty dull when Chanyeol stayed at the studio. Sure, you barely spoke anymore, but at least when he was home you would drink coffee together. Even if it was in silence, you preferred it to staring at the empty space in front of you.

You pulled out your phone as you poured yourself a bowl of cereal and texted him.

To; Chanyeol [ 08:45 ];

Are you coming home tonight? I was going to make tacos for dinner!

You smiled as you pressed send, remembering an old forgotten Tuesday tradition. Taco Tuesdays with Chanyeol used to consist of watching a movie and seeing who could eat the most before the end (winner got a back rub). It was the first time in so long that you got giddy about seeing him. The idea of curling up beside him on the couch while he put on some scary movie that he had already seen a billion times, but wanted to watch one more because he thought it was funny to see you afraid – it made your heart swell three sizes. You would sit on the edge of the couch gripping his leg, free hand plastered over your eyes even though they were cracked just enough for you to see every single stupid moment.

“I hate this. I hate this. I hate this. Why is she so stupid?! Why is she going in there?”

Chanyeol would laugh while you whined, hold you when you screamed. Sometimes, when the movie was quiet, he would grip your sides to scare you and you would turn around and hit him. He’d grab your hands and pull your lips to his, kiss your dramatic tears away.

“You’re such a baby.”

His deep voice resonating through your chest pressed against his. You’d pout your lip and he’d kiss you again.

“I love you.”

Your phone buzzed against the table and just like that, the fog of a happy memory was replaced by the all familiar cloud of disappointment.

Chanyeol [ 08:56 ];

Still have a lot to work on with the album. Probably won’t come home until tomorrow. Sorry

You slumped over the table and took three deep breaths, told yourself it would be okay, repeated it over and over like a mantra, as if you could speak it into reality. You told yourself that Chanyeol was just busy and it wasn’t you. Sometimes people can have space and still be okay and just because you didn’t see him every day, or kiss him every night, or touch him anymore, that didn’t mean you weren’t still his favorite person like you used to be.

‘Were you ever his favorite person?’

It was hard to breathe over the sobs that clawed up your throat, hand gripping your phone like you could get through to Chanyeol with that action alone. You wanted to shake him back to reality, show him what he was doing to you, but couldn’t he already see? Couldn’t he tell what he was doing?

You couldn’t control that anguish that gripped you as you sat up and stuffed a spoon full of Rice Krispies into your mouth, closing your eyes while you prayed away the sadness. Each bite you swallowed choked the tears back down, but blood still rushed through your ears with turmoil and betrayal like it never had. When you stared down at the milk that remained, all you could think of was the pieces of your heart that laid scattered around the too big house you were in, so many that you didn’t know how to put it back together again. You felt shattered. Damaged.

You’d never felt so lonely.

The next morning started like this – Chanyeol texted you an apology with no context.

Chanyeol [ 07:33 ];

I’m sorry

It was instant, the ache that settled in your bones and you immediately tried calling him, but it went straight to voicemail. Hands shaking as thoughts raked through your mind, anxiousness taking hold of your nerves and twisting them around like play-dough. You sat up on the edge of the bed and stared at the carpet, wondering what he would apologize for.

‘For not coming home?’, ‘For everything else?’

You shook your head and stood up, almost walking away to go to the bathroom when the text messages started flooding in. Your phone buzzed wildly on your pillow and even though the coward in you wanted to turn away, you couldn’t help but reach back for it instead. It was your sister, your friends. Your mom.

-Chanyeol broke up with you?

-Why is Chanyeol with another girl?

-What is going on with you and Chanyeol?

-Have you seen this article?

You were clicking on it with blind anger and fear, fingers shaking as you scrolled through picture after picture of Chanyeol with a girl you had never met. In his car, outside of his studio, her kissing his cheek, her hand on his arm while he smiled at her, something genuine that you hadn’t seen in so long. For a second, you forgot to be angry, simply happy to see that he could actually smile and it wasn’t just something you made up in your head.

But then the rage hit. Jealousy thrashed in your chest; how could he smile at her but not you? You stared at the girl’s hand on his arm and wished more than anything you could snatch it away, wanted to burn away her touch with your own, as if anyone could touch him like you did. Instead you dialed Chanyeol’s number again.

No answer.

You threw your phone at the wall and ran into the bathroom, bent over with your head between your knees to try and calm the panic you felt yourself surging inside. The world felt like it was turning upside down. Like you were being burned out of the life you built with Chanyeol, as if he had the right to leave when he was the one who said you meant everything.

“I want to love you forever”

You dropped into a squat and covered your face with your hands, so tired of crying, though the tears just wouldn’t stop coming.

‘How could he do that?’, ‘How could he lie?’, ‘How could he tell you he loved you and then lie?’

You screamed into the empty room and slammed your hands down on the floor, falling to your knees with more sobs then you could handle.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair… You pounded your fists into the linoleum as if you could smash the anger through the floor, bury it in the earth and leave it there forever. Your forehead pressed onto the cold surface beneath your hands and you begged for it all to go away. You just wanted everything to stop, you just wanted to breathe like you did when Chanyeol used to hug you.

An hour passed and you walked back to the bedroom, grabbing your phone off the floor (screen surprisingly unbroken). There were no missed calls. Only more text messages from people who were more concerned about your relationship than they were about your mental health.

You waited the entire day for some kind of follow-up to his apology. An explanation. Absolutely fucking anything. You waited for hours, sat at the kitchen table, hands balled into fists so tight that your nails dug small crescents into your palms. Eventually you moved to the living room, vacuumed to keep busy, mopped the floor, washed the dishes.

You were scrubbing the kitchen counter when he walked through the door. You threw the washcloth down and walked to him, ready to bring your fury down on him like a storm, but the second you saw his face, all of your anger disappeared.

The dark circles housed under his eyes had grown more prominent in the two days since you’d seen him. His hair was a mess, coffee stains on his shirt, looking smaller than he ever had. Defeated.

“Yeol?” You mumbled, standing up straight. His eyes met yours for barely a second, his hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck, before walking to the fridge. He pulled out left-overs from a few nights before and threw them in the microwave before walking into the bedroom. You followed after him despite the voice in your head telling you to leave him alone, like he left you.

He peeled his shirt off and sat on the edge of the bed, eyes drooping like he was going to fall asleep right there.

You walked towards him and pressed your hand to his cheek. When he nuzzled into it and closed his eyes, your heart broke. You grabbed his hand and pulled him to stand up in front of you. It wasn’t sexual in the slightest, the way you pulled off his belt and unzipped his pants, pulling them down so he was left in his boxers. You guided him to the bathroom and turned on the shower, standing with his hand in yours beside you while you tested the temperature, only adjusting it slightly before turning back around.

He looked so tired and innocent, you couldn’t help but press a kiss to his cheek before you pulled down his boxers and ushered him under the water. You helped him wash from head to toe, ignoring the way you got completely soaked in the process and solely focused on making sure he was clean. Once you were finished, you pulled him out and dried him off, lead him back to the bedroom. You pulled a fresh t-shirt over his head and helped him step into a new pair of boxers before walking him back to the kitchen, sitting him down and making him eat the leftovers he heated.

You completely forgot about the pictures. The apology.

‘Tomorrow, it can wait until tomorrow’

He ate his food in silence and you had to nudge him three times to wake him up, but eventually, he finished everything. You walked him to bed, laid him down, pulled the covers up over him and ran your fingers through his hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead, then walked out to the kitchen to clean up.

It was only then that the ache settled in your chest. He was right there, one room away, and you missed him so much that it took your breath away. You wanted to cry again, scream, but instead you got in the shower, washed away the sadness and climbed into bed beside him.

You wanted to watch him sleep forever. Wanted to reach out and touch him, wrap your arms around him, kiss him, but you didn’t. You didn’t know how to do those things anymore without worrying. Wondering what the next day would bring.

You were just about to roll over when he reached out and wrapped his arms around your waist. You froze, scared he was asleep and that you would wake him up if you moved. It was the first time he had held you in months, you didn’t want to ruin that, even if it was unintentional.

“I love you.”

You thought it was your imagination, his words often echoing through your mind from past memories, but no. That was real. You looked at him with glassy eyes, wondering if he said it in his sleep, but then his eyes opened to meet yours.

“I love you.” He repeated. You bit your lip to keep from crying, but he kissed you despite that, then crushed you into his chest. Your hands gripped his shirt, holding onto him for dear life, as if he would disappear any second. You had to keep him there, had to fight for him, had to keep the Chanyeol who loved you because it was the only thing that made sense.

Sleep found you only minutes later, and you didn’t have to dream of his arms. Instead you dreamt of his voice.

You woke up the next morning to Chanyeol pulling his arms away from you.

Well- ripping them away, flustered and cursing, moving around the room too quick for your tired eyes to keep up with.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” You asked, sitting up and rubbing at your face.

“I’m late.” He snapped, yanking on a sweatshirt and pulling a pair of sweats on.

You sighed and sat up on your knees. “It’s okay, you can afford to be late one day, I’m sure.”

It was like the air was sucked out of the room with that one sentence, and he stood up straight, looking at you with such ferocity that you wanted to melt into the bed beneath you.

“You don’t have a fucking clue what I can and can’t afford right now!” He shot out, and your breath hitched at the harshness of his words.

Sure, you barely had real conversations anymore and you didn’t really kiss or smile with eachother, but Chanyeol was never mean to you. And he never yelled, not at you.

You wrung your fingers and swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Well, just… Calm down. Freaking out isn’t going to help.” You said softly and he rolled his eyes.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

He was grabbing his phone off of the nightstand and pulling a hat onto his head when your fears from the day before flooded into your soul again.

‘Who was she?’, ‘Why is he so mad?’

“Are you cheating on me?” You asked quietly and his head snapped towards you, eyes narrowing.

“What?”

Your blood was boiling. Skin itching with irritation. After how you took care of him the night before, despite all of the stories you heard, he was going to treat you like that?

“I said, are you cheating on me?” Your words were stronger that time, firm.

You didn’t expect the empty laugh that left his lips, the eye roll. The obvious annoyance.

“You’re so fucking stupid.” He mumbled, walking out the door and slamming it behind him.

The rage rolled through you in waves. Fire burned through your chest. Your arms moved on autopilot, picking up the wedding picture on the night stand beside you and throwing it at the door he had just left through, a frustrated cry coming out like a strangled scream as the glass shattered on the floor. You half expected him to come back to make sure you were okay but heard the unmistakable opening and closing of the front door and felt exactly like the glass that lay splintered on the bedroom floor.

It took you hours to piece yourself together enough to climb out of bed. Hours to stop crying. The life you were trapped in was so exhausting, and you were tired of pretending you could fix it. Tired of letting Chanyeol ruin you. The constant resentment he tossed around when you had done nothing wrong, the never-ending insecurities he let run through you like a stampede.

You were sick of trying to make him love you again.

“Marry me?”

You were sick of trying to force the memories of your love back into him, trying to make him remember that you were his everything once when he was still yours.

‘Were you ever his everything?’

The thought made you nauseous. It felt like your heart no longer belonged to you, tethered in Chanyeol’s palm by a leash that only he had control of. You just wanted to feel free again.

You stepped over the pile of glass and walked out to the front door, pulling your shoes on. You called your sister and told her you needed her, and she’s your sister, so she picked you up fifteen minutes later, let you sob for thirsty minutes total before driving to a nearby restaurant and parking the car, turning towards you with too much sincerity and pity in her eyes. You hated it.

“You need a drink.”

Chanyeol was never one to outright complain about you being drunk, but if he was honest with himself, he hated it. You were obnoxiously loud and touchy, whining about anything and everything, talking faster than he could keep up with about things that made no sense. It was annoying. And he really didn’t have time for it. At all.

It was a really big week, the album was so close to finished, but it wasn’t perfect. He needed it to be perfect, the group couldn’t afford to disappoint anyone. They were all working so hard, practicing every day, writing until their fingers bled, fighting with the company for direction. It was too important.

Still. You were his wife. When your sister called – “she needs you” – he couldn’t say no. Even after you had both fought that morning, and he wasn’t particularly happy to see you, he got into his car and said he would be there in thirty.

He watched from across the street, you sitting on the curb outside of the bar with your sister’s arm draped around your shoulders. She brushed your hair out of your face and you smiled at her like she was actual sunshine. He rolled his eyes and pulled his seat belt off despite the butterflies he got in his stomach and waited for a break in traffic before jogging across the street.

“Hey,” He said, signaling his presence and both you and your sister looked up.

“Sorry.” Your sister mumbled, and you looked at her with your eyebrows furrowed.

“Don’t ever be sorry, not ever to anyone. We don’t have to be sorry, never.” You said wrapping your arms around her head and hugging her to your chest. She laughed and patted your back, peeling your arms away. Chanyeol’s hands wrapped around yours and pulled you to your feet, your hands resting on his chest to steady yourself. He sighed as he grabbed your waist, holding you upright.

“Do you need a ride home?” He asked your sister and she shook her head.

“I’ll get a taxi. You guys go.”

He couldn’t help the annoyance that overtook him when he realized she stuck you with him on purpose. She gave Chanyeol an annoyed smirk, peering up at him through narrowed eyes.

“Don’t make my sister cry again.” She whispered for only him to hear and he nodded in reply. Your sister tended to be a pretty scary person, so he didn’t want to cross her. She turned on her heel and walked away, leaving him alone with you.

When he looked down, you were staring up at him with the dopiest smile on your face. You pinched his cheeks and he sighed. He was so cute. He wrapped his hands around your wrists and dragged you across the street to his car, helping you into the front seat. He reached across you to buckle your seat belt, ignoring the way you touched him, pressed kisses to his neck. He abruptly pulled away and you stared at him dejectedly. When he shut your door, you turned on the radio and adjusted your seat back, staring out the window.

‘He rejected me?’, ‘How do you reject your wife?’

You felt so stupid. Getting drunk on a Wednesday, so drunk in fact, that your own sister couldn’t stand to be with you. No one could stand you, not ever, and that thought broke your heart.

Chanyeol noticed nothing of it. In fact, he relished in the silence, completely not expecting it to the usual tirade you went on after drinking. He wanted to make it all the way home, just like that, hoping to avoid an argument at all costs. He preferred when you both didn’t speak because at least it was quiet. He like the quiet.

When he pulled into the driveway, a satisfied smile found his cheeks. He thought you must have been asleep, but when he moved to turn the car off and unbuckle his seat belt, he noticed your hand covering your eyes, unmistakable tears trailing down your chin while you sniffled silently, chest stuttering with sobs he had been deaf to.

He reached over to grab your hand, but you pulled it away, yanked off your seat belt and climbed out of the car before he could even touch you. You stumbled inside and threw your shoes off in the entry way, Chanyeol one step behind.

“Y/n-” he started, but you whipped around and pressed your finger to his lips while you shushed him, tears still falling freely.

“Don’t talk to me.” You said, eyes bleeding the anger you felt, stumbling back towards your bedroom without another word.

Chanyeol was speechless. For the first time in your entire relationship. He stared after you in the entry way, unsure of what to think.

You loved talking when you were drunk, yet the only words you said to him were ‘don’t talk to me’. Is that why he missed your voice all of a sudden? Why he craved to hear you speak again?

You were one step into the room when you remembered your fatal mistake, but it was too late. You never cleaned up the glass from that morning and multiple shards jabbed their way into your heel, eliciting a scream from you.

“Ow!” You stumbled back, tears immediately falling as you pulled your foot up. Chanyeol was there in seconds, immediately assessing the situation and lifting you into his arms. He carried you to the kitchen and sat you up on the counter, crouching down to look at your foot.

“Let me see it.” He said, fingers moving up to touch one of the smaller pieces that jutted out.

“Don’t touch it, please!” You yelled through a sob, pushing his hands away.

“Babe, I have to touch it, there’s glass in there, it could get infected.” He said softly, still looking at your foot and prodding at it, only causing more pain. You gripped his shoulder and shook your head vehemently.

“No, no, no, please. It’s okay, it’s okay, it won’t get infected, it’ll be okay!” You wiped the tears from your eyes in an attempt to prove to him it was no major wound, but you knew it wouldn’t work, the dramatics already displayed.

He looked up at you, serious. “So, if it gets infected and you die, what should I do then? You want me to just be alone?”

He stood up and walked towards the cabinet that housed the expired first aid kit you bought 2 years before when you moved in.

“It’s not like you’d care.” You mumbled, wiping at your eyes again with the back for your wrist. He looked up at you, confused, and chuckled half-heartedly, dismissing your comment with a roll of his eyes.

“I wouldn’t care?” He repeated, turning back towards you and going through the small kit.

You shook your head ‘no’ and he saw it out of the corner of his eye, still determined to find the tools he needed. “You don’t love me anymore, so you would be okay.”

That time he chuckled for real, caught off guard by your statement. “I don’t love you? What are you talking about?”

He turned back, tweezers in hand, and grabbed your ankle, but you barely noticed. He looked up when he realized you weren’t making a scene like he expected, watched your eyebrows furrow together while you wrung your fingers together, anxiousness and worry on full display. The sight of you broke something inside of him. The genuine tears that rolled down your cheeks.

“You don’t tell me you love me anymore. You don’t kiss me.” A small sob broke from your throat and his heart skipped a beat. “You called me stupid this morning, after I took care of you last night. And you don’t even feel sorry. And I had a right to be angry, I have a right to be pissed at you!”

He sighed and closed his eyes, unable to look at you like that anymore. He started picking out the pieces of glass one by one, listening to the soft sobs that escaped you, each one a blow to his chest he had never felt before.

“I don’t even know what I did, Yeol. I feel like I’m nothing to you anymore. That’s how I feel.”

He wanted you to shut up. To stop saying such useless, unimaginable things.

“And you’re seeing another girl! I can’t believe you were smiling with her; you never smile at me anymore!” You couldn’t stop now, ready to get everything you wanted out on the table.

He was wrapping your foot with gauze, annoyance reaching a boiling point as you flailed your arms around dramatically, pointing at him and yelling.

“If you want to leave me, then you should just do it. Okay? But don’t embarrass me by sneaking around with another girl. I’ll be fine, I am a strong woman, I don’t nee-“

Chanyeol cut you off, hands wrapped under your knees and pulling you to the edge of the counter, his lips against yours shutting you up effectively. It was so unexpected, the words he stole from you as if they were his own, claiming every bit of oxygen in your lungs with is tongue against yours, his hands on your thighs, skin against skin. You missed his touch more than anything. Your arms wrapped around his neck, letting him take every piece of you he wanted, teeth skimming against your lower lip, his cinnamon breath taking over all of your senses. You wanted to drown in him, all those tears swirling down the drain now nonexistent, the will to fight for him renewing inside of you.

You whimpered into the kiss and he smiled, wrapping your legs around his waist, and pulling you up off the counter. His lips never left yours as he moved back towards the bedroom, a constant you weren’t sure you could lose again, but you pulled away, looking back.

“Watch out for the-”

“Glass.” He breathed out, catching your lips again as he stepped over the pile in front of the door.

Every bit of you wanted him, mind finally silent from worry, heart content as he laid you back on the bed and climbed on top of you. He pulled his shirt off and kissed your neck, that space below your ear that he knew was so sensitive for you. The peppered kisses he trailed from your neck to your lips brought you home, for the first time in so long. Chanyeol was Sunday mornings again, his hands sliding up your shirt, your body melting with his like you were made for him. You bled for him, cried for him, the oxygen that carried through your veins was only his.

He pulled away for the first time in what felt like hours, eyes meeting yours with so much passion that you wanted to fall into him. You wanted to fall into his arms and let him hold you forever, this boy who had every piece of your soul.

“I love you.” You whispered.

Tears filled your eyes and he swallowed hard, eyes frenzied and confused.

“I need you.”

His words were whispered and rushed and not what you were expecting, but you gave him everything. You gave him every piece of the already fractured glass heart that you had left and let him build a castle for himself, a kingdom you weren’t sure he was ready to let you in. Let him ruin you from head to toe, mold you like you imagined Alexandros of Antioch molded the Venus de Milo, in the image he wanted, everything he needed. You wanted to be his everything again. You had to be.

The next morning, you woke up with your naked legs tangled with Chanyeol’s, his arm draped over your waist, head nuzzled into your hair. You felt so complete again, unlike the hollow shell you usually felt like, one who held the place of his wife. You felt wanted. You felt remade.

Time ticked by too quickly, the fear of him leaving for work nearly suffocating. So, you listened to him breathe. Distracted yourself with the soft snores that flowed from him like your favorite melody. Drowned out your never ceasing thoughts with the smell of his shampoo so close. You memorized the way his fingers felt against your skin, both soft and rough at the same time, so hard working and full of love.

The sound of his phone buzzing broke everything. You pretended to sleep when Chanyeol got up, turning back to grab his phone from the nightstand. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but birds chirped outside of the window. You wondered what it would be like to be one of them. He sat up on the side of the bed and answered the call.

You listened to him talk, listened to him whisper words of apology to someone that you didn’t know. Listened to him lie about where he was and wondered why he should have to lie. You were his wife. He should be lying to you, not the other woman.

“Mina, it’s nothing, really. I’m in the car, I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Wait for me.”

Every piece of life was sucked out of you at the sound of her name.

Mina.

A name to the face who was stealing your husband. A name to the face of the woman who made him smile.

‘Wait for me.’

‘Did he ever smile at you like that?’

He sighed and stayed still for a few moments. You felt him look back towards you once. Twice.

‘Please don’t go’, ‘Please don’t go’, ‘Please don’t go’

Your eyes filled with tears, begging him to hear your heart, begging him to pull you back into his chest and not get out of the bed.

When he moved to push himself up, you rolled over and grabbed his hand.

His eyes down on you, so empty. How had things gotten here?

“Please don’t go.” You whispered.

His eyebrows scrunched together and he sighed, rubbing his face with his free hand.

“I’ll be back tonight.” He mumbled, and it felt like a shot to the heart. “I promise.”

You didn’t let go of his wrist. “Please.” Couldn’t let go. It felt like the end, and it was too real. It was all too real.

He looked at you and sighed, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I promise.”

He muttered the words one more time before pulling his hand from yours and getting dressed.

It felt like you were watching a movie. A life flashing before you that you didn’t know. A man you had never seen. He walked out without a goodbye and you didn’t break. Tempered glass doesn’t do that. It shatters in spiderwebs, no ragged edges to fall apart, just broken pieces locked together that can’t be put back together again. A damaged piece of hardware no one could fix, not even Chanyeol.

The birds outside were chirping and again, you wondered what it must be like to fly away.

Chanyeol came home that night to the house dark. Every piece of you was missing; your clothes, your notebooks, the stupid clock you bought the year before that was in the shape of a cat that he hated more than anything.

He tried calling you over and over, but you never answered. Your sister refused to tell him anything - “I told you to stop making her cry.”

Your ring sat on his pillow; a note written beneath it that he couldn’t find the courage to read.

“I love you.” You whispered to him at some grocery store years before. He laughed and looked around.

“Why now?” He questioned and you rolled your eyes, shoulders shrugging.

“Not just now. Forever.”

The smile on your face, something he loved more than anything. He knew right then that he would die for you.

“Forever.” He repeated.

The house was empty, no longer a home since you were gone. Cold. Dark. Hell.

You were gone.

A/N: Guys!!!! My third fic!!! Let a girl know what ya think, I’m honestly really proud of this one and really really hope I can hear from you all about it ~~ SO SO SO much love, any feedback is appreciated!!!

P.S. i’ve got a part 2 kickin for this one :):):):):):)

#exo angst #exo fanfic #exo imagine #chanyeol angst #chanyeol fic #chanyeol imagine #chanyeol fanfic #chanyeol fluff #chanyeol fanfiction #exo fanfiction #park chanyeol fic #park chanyeol angst #kpop #kpop angst #park chanyeol rec #chanyeol fic rec #park chanyeol imagine #kpop imagine #exo imagines

253 notes · View notes

whyiask · 4 years ago

Text

it didn’t matter anyways

ships: platonic LAMP & platonic or romantic Princxiety WC: 2526 Summary: set post POF, Roman has a breakdown and Virgil is there to help him tw: crying, little bit of blood, self-deprecating thoughts, depressing thoughts(kinda), tell me if I missed any genre: HURT/COMFORT with mostly hurt and a tiny bit of comfort at the end

---

Roman wanted to be angry. He should’ve felt angry, but as he sunk out and popped up in his room, a cold iciness had settled in his chest, numbing him to the core. It didn’t matter anyways. He didn’t deserve to feel angry. He had no right to.

Inside Roman’s skull, his mind was turning, spinning, crashing around and turning upside down. What was right side up anymore? Had he ever been right before? It didn’t matter, nothing did. His chest had gone numb and his head had betrayed him, twirling dangerously on its axis as his entire world turned upside down.

Deceit was wrong… no, he was right now. Roman struggled to keep up with the others, he always had. J- Deceit has used him, manipulated him, tricked him, and it was Roman’s fault. Deceit wove one pretty speech and suddenly he was the good guy and Roman was still at fault.

Good guy, bad guy. Relative terms. Life wasn’t pure black and white, Roman knew that. It still hurt. With a gasp, Roman hit the ground with his fist. To feel something. Anything. He wondered vaguely when he had dropped to his knees, but it didn’t matter. It never mattered.

His head was swimming and his vision was blurring- it took all of his remaining strength to keep from falling over, curling up in a ball, and never standing up again. With a grunt of effort, Roman pushed himself off of the floor, clinging desperately to the wall as his knees shook below him, silent sobs wracking his body. He shuddered and sank back down, tucking his knees against his chest and burying his head in his arms. How pathetic was he? He couldn’t even stand.

It was not okay not okay not okay not ok- but did it really matter? Did it matter if he was okay? No, the answer was no, it was always no, because he was in the wrong here. Wrong, wrong wrong wrong wrong-

Roman didn’t know when the tears had started. He was heaving in great lungfuls of air and still couldn’t breathe. More moisture dripped down his face but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It didn’t matter anyways-

I wouldn’t be able to tell who the evil twin is.

Ja- Deceit’s voice echoed in his head, pounding through his skull. He curled tighter around himself, whimpering pathetically, as the voices grew louder, more persistent, stronger, changing the words, slapping his harshly across the face as the words became steadily crueler and crueler. Logically, Roman knew that Jan- Deceit- had never said the things he was hearing, neither had Patton, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Even if they hadn’t said them out loud, he knew they had been thinking it.

It’s hard to tell who the evil twin is.

Roman covered his ears fruitlessly. His breath was coming in increasingly shorter gasps and his fingernails dug into his skull. No no no no no no no-

I know who the evil twin is.

Roman pressed his hands harder, not noticing the blood starting to drip from his temples. He didn’t notice how his room shook and twisted, nor the way his clothes were slowly but surely fading in color.

The evil twin.

Pictures were falling off of the wall. Rain was pouring down in heavy waves. His mind was shaking and his room was shaking- he was shivering and crying and wasn’t breathing- but he didn’t notice. The only thing he could feel was Deceit’s words, twisting themselves round and round, stewing, bubbling in his head, warping reality and invading every thought. There was a steady pounding in Roman’s skull- or maybe that was the room, he couldn’t tell.

Evil.

With a gasp of horror- or, he would’ve gasped if he had remembered how to breathe- he realized he couldn’t hear J- Deceit’s voice anymore. But the voice hadn’t stopped. It wasn’t Patton either, nor his brother. It was him. His own thoughts echoed back at him, reverberating around his buzzing skull and he tugged at his hair uselessly, desperate for the cruel voice of himself to stop, stop talking, stop yelling, stop-

It stopped. The room had stopped shaking- maybe Roman had a better grasp of his emotions, maybe he simply didn’t have the energy to feel any more. The world came to a stand still, and Roman nearly almost took a breath, allowed himself a moment of relief.

But it was not meant to be.

“Everything is gonna be okay, kiddo,” a vision of Patton flashed dangerously in Roman’s mind eye. “Don’t worry, I know who the evil twin is.”

That was all it took for Roman to double over himself, curling farther into himself and rocking back and forth with dry sobs. He didn’t have any tears left.

The pounding in his skull was getting louder, faster. With a sudden jolt, he sat up straight, staring at his door with glazed eyes. It wasn’t in his head. Someone was banging on his door.

“Kiddo, please open the door,” the real Patton’s voice begged.

Roman shrank in on himself. Normally, he would never allow anyone to see him like this, ever. But it didn’t matter anyways, did it? It did matter, it matters it matters it matters it…

It was a good time for realization, as Roman had made many that day. About Deceit, Janus, about himself and about his twisted perspective of the world. It had been a big day of realization after horrifying realization. He could dwell on that later. At the moment, Roman made one more realization: he realized- and became acutely aware of- the fact that he had not breathed in a solid two minutes, and with his lungs compressing and his winded state, it seemed unlikely he could call out to Patton at all.

He sucked in a breath, but it wasn’t working.

Another voice joined Patton at the door. In his slightly delirious state, he could still recognize it instantly as Virgil. They conversed briefly- Roman was too tired to make out the words- and then Virgil called through the door.

“Roman?” A pause. “Roman, I know you’re in there. Can you come out? You’re starting to worry us. Your room was shaking just a minute ago?” It was phrased as a question, but Roman could hear the- well, the anxiety- behind his words. He almost could’ve laughed, but the whole air thing still wasn’t cooperating.

“Hey, I- we’re getting worried. Please say something back, or else I’m coming in.”

Roman tried again, breaths getting more frantic by the second. His pulse was speeding up again as he desperately took in shallow breaths, chest barely rising.

“Is Roman in there?” A new voice- Logan- called out. It was father away than the others, so Roman figured he was just now coming down the hallway, most likely to check out the shaking.

Not a second later, the door flew open. Virgil stepped inside, before jumping back out with a yelp of alarm.

“It’s raining in there,” Virgil sounded taken aback. “Is that even a thing?”

Was it? Roman thought the rain had stopped, but apparently not. It probably wasn’t a good thing he felt this numb, this out of touch with his own body.

Patton nudged Virgil aside and stepped into the room, fatherly concern written all over his face. He spotted Roman in the corner almost immediately, running over as fast as he could and kneeling beside him.

“Roman,” he gasped. “Are you okay?” He reached out but didn’t touch Roman, unsure of what to do.

At Patton’s gasp, Virgil and Logan came back into the room. Virgil’s face melted into one of horror and Logan took a mini step backwards. Roman laughed internally. He must’ve looked like a hot mess. Nay, not hot, cool. Nay, not cool, uncool. An uncool mess. He supposed that’s exactly what he was.

An uncool, pathetic mess. But it didn’t matter anyways.

He still couldn’t breathe.

Virgil noticed this almost instantly, rushing to the fallen prince’s side. “Can I touch you?” he asked quietly, and at Roman’s small nod, he placed a hand on Roman’s arm.

“Roman, Princey, you have to breathe- okay? You have to, come on. Breathe with me.” Virgil slowed his breathing, counting on his fingers, and slowly, Roman copied him, breathing in sync with Virgil. Logan crouched on Roman’s other side, reciting the counts with Virgil in a low, soothing tone.

It felt better. He could breathe again. The hand tightening around his chest began to loosen and he could breathe, it felt so good-

Patton pulled him into a hug. Roman stiffened at the contact, but relaxed into the strong arms, biting his lip to hold back another onslaught of tears.

“What happened?” Logan asked quietly after a moment of silence.

“It doesn’t matter anyways,” Roman muttered, pulling back from Patton and slumping against the wall again. Logan blinked in surprise and Patton made a small sad noise. Virgil stayed quiet.

“Kiddo, you know we’re here for you, right?”

“It doesn’t matter anyways.” He repeated the words like a mantra, the only thing keeping him from cracking open.

Virgil spoke up. “Ro, why do you keep saying that?”

Roman flinched back. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” Patton insisted. “We all made,” his eyes darkened as he spoke, “a lot of mistakes, but that doesn’t mean your feelings don’t matter!”

Logan coughed.

“Except for Logan, he hasn’t done anything wrong,” Patton amended.

“Yes, thank you,” Logan sniffed. “But I do have to agree with Patton on this one, Princey. We would like to listen to your problems and assist in brainstorming possible solutions.”

Roman gave a watery laugh. Nobody laughed with him.

Virgil was staring at him oddly.

“What?”

Virgil took a deep breath. “Hey Pat, Lo?” he addressed them without taking his eyes off of Roman. “Can you give us the room for a moment? I promise we’ll be right out. Maybe go bake some cookies in preparation? For a movie night.” He added the last part as an afterthought, lower and darker than the rest of his statement. “I think we all need it.”

Patton looked uncertainly at Roman, who simply nodded his head. Logan grabbed Patton by the arm gently and led him from the room, closing the door behind them for privacy.

Virgil continued to stare at Roman with his deep, expressive eyes, and Ro started to fidget under the stare.

“Are you okay?” the words were spoken softly, a mere whisper off Virgil’s tongue, but Roman could hear them clearly.

“No,” he said honestly. It didn’t matter anyways. Virgil wasn’t going to care, and it was better than possibly catching the attention of a certain snake-scaled lie detector. Still the word felt foreign on his tongue.

Virgil frowned slightly. “You’re bleeding.”

Roman looked up in surprise. “I am?” It was the first genuine emotion he’d shown since the others had arrived, and a small smiled graced Virgil’s lips, even despite the situation at hand.

Virgil waved his hand and summoned a first aid kit. He offered it to Roman, who hesitated for a moment before declining. The prince was surprised at himself- he normally never let anyone else take care of him. However, he supposed, after his... his breakdown, he needed it. Virgil worked in silence for the most part, taking Roman’s hands gently when he was done.

“I-” he hesitated, searching for the words. “I don’t know what happened, and I haven’t seen the video yet, but I am truly sorry for whatever they did to hurt you like this.”

“I’m sure you’ll think differently after watching it then,” Roman turned away, avoiding eye contact.

“Princey, what-”

“I’m the bad guy, okay?” he burst out. “I’m the bad guy, I’m the bad guy, I’m the bad guy and I always have been! I’ve been too blind to see it.” He punched the wall behind him. “Too blind, too stupid, too slow to keep pace with all of you, too loud when I’m stating my opinion, not helping enough when I try to keep quiet. The bad guy when I side with Deceit and-” he took a shuddering breath, fizzling out from his outburst.

“And…?” Virgil prompted.

“And still the bad guy when I side against him.”

Roman could see the gears turning in Virgil’s head.

“So…” he began slowly. “You sided against Deceit in this most recent video, and- and the others said you were on the wrong side? That seems awfully hypocritical of them.”

Roman looked down. “I was horrible.”

Virgil’s head snapped up to stare at Roman. “Don’t say that,” he said. “You are not horrible, you aren’t a bad person, maybe you made a mistake-”

“That’s the thing!” Roman shouted to the ceiling. “It’s not just ‘a mistake’ it’s not ‘one mistake.’ It’s not even two! It’s just mistake, after mistake, after mistake, after mistake. I say I’ll get better and then I don’t- you all move on to new things and I’m too slow to catch up. Apology after apology, mistake after mistake. I’m a mistake.”

Roman uttered the last sentence so quietly, Virgil had to strain to hear him. His face hardened as the words registered in his mind.

“Roman,” Virgil said firmly. “You are not a mistake. You never have been. They’re wrong, they are in the wrong for making you feel this way. This is not okay. I’ll have a talk with the others later about this, I won’t share anything if you don’t want me to…?” Virgil trailed off uncertainly, a question lingering in the air.

“Please don’t tell them what I said.”

Virgil pursed his lips. “Alright, if that’s what you want.” He stood up, stretching his arms out, and offered a hand to Roman. The prince took it gratefully hauling himself up and taking a moment to steady himself. He shot an unsteady grin at Virgil, who smirked back.

Roman hesitated before stepping forward.

“Thank you, Vee.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “What, no witty nickname?”

Roman looked him straight in the eye. “Not today.”

“Well, then you are welcome, Roman. Ready to go talk to the others?” Virgil extended his hand and Roman took it, squeezing tightly before pulling Virgil into a full hug. It lasted a moment before he pulled away, slightly misty eyed.

Roman followed Virgil out the door, leaving behind as many insecurities, issues, and tears as he could. It wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but it was nice to have finally been allowed to say what was on his mind without repercussions. He took a deep breath, smoothing out the wrinkles of his prince costume, before changing his mind and snapping into a hoodie and sweatpants for something more comfortable.

And so what if nothing was fine? He might’ve been breaking down a few minutes ago, but now he was feeling lighter than he had in ages and was walking hand in hand with someone who loved him- just fo being him- they were family, after all.

Nothing was fine. Nothing was okay. Things were still going to be hard.

but what did that matter anyways?

----

Taglist:

Okay so- @queenofsassgard @arushahisatroll @introvertedtater-tot when you asked to be on the taglist, did you mean just the AU taglist or any sanders sides fic in general? because if it’s the first option, then i’m so sorry about the tag aha-

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #post pof #post svsr #roman sanders #virgil sanders #ts roman #ts virgil #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders centric #roman-centric #angst with a tiny bit of comfort at the end

24 notes · View notes

thompsborn · 5 years ago

Text

sorry for anyone who doesn’t love parksborn but not really because i love parksborn and decided to write them a little thing

—

harry always says his full name.

eight years old, on the playground of a public school in queens because emily osborn wanted her son to have as normal of an upbringing as possible despite their wealth, holding hands under the slide so that no one can see and whispering, like it’s a secret, “you’re my best friend, peter parker.”

ten years old and blinking back tears in an airport because emily is no longer in the picture and norman osborn was never equipped to be a father, hugging each other and gasping for air when it feels like their chests are caving in on weakened lungs and crumbling rib cages and repeating a mantra of, “i’ll never forget you, peter parker,” and “i’ll always come back.”

eighteen years old and wearing a pair of sunglasses to hide the way his eyes are shining with so much emotion that he feels like he’s choking, forcing a cool tone after the shaky question of when did you get back? and responding with, “yesterday,” before putting on a believable grin and adding, “been a while, peter parker. you got taller.” and rejoicing in the sound of peter’s spluttered sort of laugh.

nineteen years old, norman is gone, and spider-man is a thorn in his side but under the mask—

“peter parker,” harry breathes, horrified, even as he pressed peter against the concrete and stares down at those tear filled eyes that are pleading with him, blood trickling from a broken nose, black eye already forming. “you...?”

and peter tries to shake his head but his entire body seems to be trembling with some sort of heavy, suffocating kind of dread. “harry—you don’t—you don’t understand, okay? i—!”

harry presses peter down harder, sucks in a rush of oxygen that burns his lungs, then flees, ignoring the desperate call of his name.

twenty years old and drunk off his ass and trying to run a company and pretend he’s managing it well when he isn’t because there are so many things—so many things, all the time, never a moment of rest—and, in a drunken moment of despair, throwing pebbles at a second story window until a random elderly man opens it and yells at harry to leave and he does, stumbles down the street and around the corner and pulls out his phone and dials that number that he’s sure will never answer his call but he should never assume because—

it rings—rings, and—

“harry?”

and it’s that voice that he hasn’t heard in so long because he’s avoided it ever since finding out who spider-man is and just that one word, his own name, spoken in a quiet question of disbelief and hope and—

god, harry just—he just—

“someone else is in your house,” is what he slurs out. it’s easier than the truth, anyway.

a short pause, a lapse of silence that stretches on just long enough to make harry fear that peter hung up entirely, until there’s a puff of air that’s almost a laugh and peter is telling him, “yeah, well, we moved. a while ago.”

harry sits on the curb, legs extended in front of his and shoulds slouched. “but—that’s your house. that’s always been your house.”

“harry, may and i moved when we were fourteen.”

another lapse of silence, this time heavier on harry’s part, before— “no, i—i would have known that. why wouldn’t i—how do i not know that? i would—peter, i would know that.”

the sad smile is almost audible in peter’s voice when he says, “it was after we stopped sending letters, and when you got back to new york, you were so caught up in everything else that you just didn’t—didn’t realize, i guess.”

“but i—i always realize stuff when it comes to you. i always—i always—always—”

“it’s flattering that you think that,” peter says.

harry doesn’t know what to say to that, so he simply leans back until his upper half is on the sidewalks, legs stretched into the street, staring up at the clouds. “why?”

there’s shuffling on the other end of the line, a distant voice and a muffled reply before footsteps and a shutting door. “why what?”

“why did you move?”

it’s not what harry really wants to ask, but it’s close enough, he supposes. “couldn’t afford the house anymore,” peter replies. “after ben...”

harry wets his lower lip and says, “oh.”

“yeah.” peter clears his throat. “why are you—i mean... you’ve been ignoring my existence for over a year, harry. why are you...?”

peter asks the questions he means to ask. harry blinks away tears while staring at the sky in a random street in queens because he didn’t know life long best friend moved six years ago. something about that makes the honesty bubble out of harry’s chest in the form of a very quiet, very broken, “i miss you, peter parker.”

this third silence is filled with something indescribable that feels almost electric even through the phone, tingling the palm of harry’s hand. then, softly, like he’s almost afriad to admit it— “yeah. yeah, i—i miss you, too.”

twenty two and in their shared apartment that’s halfway between oscorp and stark industries because they both decided they don’t want to live where they work and despite having other friends in the city, there’s just no one else they can imagine rooming with. harry is on the sofa and watching a random movie on netflix with all the lights off and a bowl of popcorn in his lap, a light breeze blowing through the room, when peter suddenly tumbles in through the open window and lands on the floor with a thud.

“oh, shit—!” and harry is on his feet, bowl of popcorn a last thought as he shoves it onto the coffee table and leaps over the back of the sofa to skid on his knees by peter’s heaving form.

“hey—ow—” peter tugs off his mask with a visible wince and offers harry a sheepish kind of grin that’s somehow still endearing with the blood on his teeth and the several rips and tears in his suit. “it’s not—not as bad as it looks.”

harry glares at him, reaching over to grasp him by his upper arms and helping him to his feet. “bathroom,” he says, tone clipped and to the point, leaving no room for argument.

peter shakes his head. “no, i’m—”

“if you try to tell me that you’re fine when i can literally see you bleeding all over our expensive carpet then i will personally kill you with my bare hands. and i know your weak spots.”

“that’s—” peter stops, brows raised high. “okay, that’s kinda—kinda terrifying, actually.”

harry grins, even as he leads a staggering peter down the hall. “good, it’s a threat.”

“you’re not supposed to threaten me,” peter pouts. “you’re my—my, um—my harry—”

a laugh pushes out from the center of harry’s chest, loud and unabashed, though peter looks flushed and embarrassed when harry lowers him to sit on the closer toilet lid. “your harry?” he repeats, incredulously. “that’s what this is?”

“no, i—i mean—”

“you’re an idiot, peter parker,” harry tells him fondly, trails gentle fingertips down the side of his face while peter stares up at him with sparkling eyes. he taps his thumb against peter’s chin and matter of factly says, “but i’m not kissing you until your busted lip is healed.”

twenty five, twenty six, twenty seven—the years kind of blur together when you don’t really bother to keep track of time. their apartment is now a penthouse because peter has a high enough position at stark industries (“that i earned,” peter says, defiant and defensive even though harry has always known that peter always earns what he has. “mr. stark didn’t just give it to me. i started at the bottom and i worked my way up without his help.”) and can afford half of the rent without relying at all on harry’s endless fortune. oscorp is finally partnering with stark industries because of a late movie night somehow turning into an idea dump and then becoming an all nighter of blueprints and planning and creating theories. it’s slow dancing in the kitchen and proofing each other’s work and kissing on the balcony when they decide to watch the sunset.

twenty eight and morgan stark is only a year and a half old and when tony and pepper decide to go on vacation, they trust peter and harry to watch her, and she—she is delicate, precious and fragile and beautiful and breakable and peter is terrified of doing something wrong. he’s held her before, played with her and knows her and grins when she recognizes his face, but he has never taken care of her like this.

“you won’t hurt her,” harry assures him, lightly bouncing morgan on his hip with a kind of natural ease that is almost scary. morgan giggles and grabs harry’s ear to yank on it before reaching her other hand out towards peter, who hovers a few feet away, his heart thudding heavily in hard to explain fear. harry smiles softly. “see? she even wants you.”

peter swallows roughly and takes a shuffled step forward before taking two large steps back. “i can’t,” he murmurs. “i just—i can’t.”

there’s years upon years of trauma packed beneath those words and harry knows it, but he doesn’t point it out, just makes his way forward and watches as morgan happily grabs at peter’s shirt as soon as he’s within her reach, eyes warm and fond and soft. “you’re amazing with her. she loves you, okay. you gotta know that.”

“but i could—accidents happen, and i’m not—”

morgan gurgles and lurches forward in harry’s arms, clearly too impatient to sit there while the adults talk. peter reaches forward just in time to catch her, his eyes reflecting how terrified he is as he swoops her in his arms and hugs her to his chest, curls around her protectively. harry’s heart is beating far too fast from the fear of morgan getting hurt, but he reaches forward and settles his hand on peter’s shoulder and shakes him, just a bit. “you see that?”

peter is breathing heavily against the top of morgan’s head. “oh my god,” he rasps. “mo, you can’t just—oh my god—”

“she’s fine,” harry reassures him, moving closer until they’re a little bit of a huddle, morgan curled up comfily between them. “that’s you, okay? she’s fine because you caught her. even when accidents happen, you’ll keep her safe.”

“but—”

harry tucks a stray curl behind peter’s ear and tells him, “you’re so good, peter parker. when are you gonna catch up with the rest of us and figure that one out?”

peter rests his forehead against harry’s shoulder and lets out a shaky breath, but he doesn’t respond.

(at the end of the night, morgan is snoring on peter’s chest while the heffalump movie plays on the tv. harry is curled into his side and watching the movie and idly comments, “you know, we’d be pretty good at this whole thing.”

peter looks at harry. “what whole thing?”

“the—y’know, kids. having them. taking care of them.”

peter blinks at him, seemingly speechless, at least for just a moment, before he lets out a little laugh. “did you just casually put becoming parents on the table? we’re not even married.”

“yet,” harry says with a shrug. “pretty sure it’s obvious that it’s gonna happen, though.”

“still,” peter says, “that’s a big step. are you—i mean, are you sure? kids? with me?”

harry lifts his head and presses a kiss to peter’s lips and lingers there, lets them both enjoy it for a moment before pulling back with a smile and bumping their noses together. “it’s you,” he murmurs. “why wouldn’t i be sure about you?”)

#my writing #peter parker #harry osborn #peter parker x harry osborn #harry osborn x peter parker #parksborn

158 notes · View notes

sxntomyflower · 5 years ago

Text

𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩

fluff 15. “i wanna be with you forever.”

angst 5. “why can’t you love me back?”

𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮

@anniech4n thanks hun! i really hope you like it, sorry it took so long

𝙩𝙞𝙩𝙡𝙚

forever and ever

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜

shouyou hinata x tobio kageyama

𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚

angst w/ fluff ending

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨

crying, sad baby

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩

3,049

𝙨𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨

hinata confessed his love to kageyama, who feels the exact opposite.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧

The constant drone of the teacher echoed through the mostly silent classroom. Most of the students there had glazed over looks on their faces as they yawned silently, most of them thinking about their weekend plans or the endless homework they still had to do. Some of them were outright asleep, heads on their desks, breathing heavily and slowly.

On the outside, Hinata blended in perfectly with them. He had a glazed over look in his eyes and he was looking absent-mindedly out the window, his head resting on his desk.

There was only a few minutes left in class, and by this time the ball of energy should have been practically bouncing in his seat. It was the last class of the day, meaning he had volleyball right after. He usually couldn’t wait to get to volleyball and was always out of class the moment the bell rang.

This time, though, he was in no rush to get to practice. In fact, he wished he could just go home like all the other kids and lay down in his bed.

He didn’t want to go to practice and have to face him. Not after what had happened between them.

The events of the previous night had already been running through his head on repeat all night and day, which was bad enough. He didn’t want to be forced to be with him. He had managed to evade him all day, but it was impossible to avoid him during practice. After all, he preferred Kageyama’s tosses over anyone else’s, not to mention they were Karasuno’s “freak duo.”

But he wished they weren’t.

The previous night flickered again through his brain like it was a movie, and he was unable to turn it off.

It had been basically pitch black outside, and Hinata and Kageyama had just finished cleaning up. No one else was there, as they had stayed late to practice and had been given the clubroom key and were instructed to clean up after they were done. This was customary, as they were the only ones with enough stamina to keep practicing until nearly 11 at night.

Hinata had an ulterior motive, however, that Kageyama didn’t know about.

See, Hinata had the biggest crush on Kageyama. It was sort of hard to tell, as his exaggerated love-spurred actions towards him didn’t differentiate much from his normal energetic and over-excited movements.

The latter, of course, was too dense to start noticing the changes. Hinata’s insults slowly morphed into hidden compliments. He would stare at the ravenette even when he wasn’t serving to him. Their lunches they shared together became less about practicing and more about Hinata rambling to him through mouthfuls of food.

Hinata had contained it for long enough. He had endured having all of these feelings bottled up inside him for months now. He was ready to just yell out his feelings at any minute now.

It really was no surprise that he just blurted it out as they were walking home together.

“KageyamaIhaveacrushonyou,” Hinata said, his words mushing together from how fast he had said it. His eyes widened slightly at his sudden outburst and he stopped walking.

Kageyama had stopped too, slightly ahead of Hinata so all he could see was the back of his head.

He stayed silent for a few seconds, giving Hinata time to turn a deep red and start running through excuses in his head why he would ever say something like that. He was just about to settle for the old he was tired from practice and it just kinda slipped out when Kageyama sighed.

“I’m sorry, Hinata,” his voice rang out into the late night silence, cold and piercing. He turned back and gave him an expression that kept Hinata up all night. It was so cold and remorseless, harsher and crueler than any look he’d ever given Hinata, even when they first met. It chilled Hinata to his bones and made his eyes fill up with tears.

“I don’t like you.”

Then, with leaving those chilling words and that cruel stare, he’d simply turned and headed to his home.

Hinata raised his head from the cool desk, hearing the class give a collective groan at the weekend homework assigned. He had missed it, obviously, but couldn’t be bothered by that right then. He could always ask someone what it was later.

His stomach turned over sickly as he thought about going to practice. What would Kageyama do? Would he be angry with him and hit him? Maybe they would be so awkward they wouldn’t be able to do their quick anymore? Or maybe Kageyama wouldn’t show up at practice because of him?

Hinata barely had any time to process these questions before the bell rang, making the dread in his stomach grow.

He slowly picked up his stuff and headed over to the gym, dragging his feet. He was one of the last ones to make it to the clubroom to change. Lo and behold, there was the one person he had desperately wanted to avoid.

Kageyama was done changing and was sitting down, tying the laces on his volleyball shoes. He glanced up briefly at Hinata when he walked in but looked back down silently, continuing with his work.

Hinata awkwardly sat down on the bench, fiddling with the sleeve of his blazer. Kageyama wasn’t acting any different than how he normally did, which put him at even more unease. He’d almost rather he just confront him about it than guess what he was possibly thinking.

Hinata took in a deep breath, deciding to clear up his intentions. “Hey, Kageyama, I’m really sorry about-”

“Come on, dumbass, hurry up or we’re gonna be late,” Kageyama interrupted him with his usual impatient tone.

Hinata was taken aback by it. He hadn’t even given him a chance to start explaining himself. He didn’t even sound angry or anything. He talked like nothing had happened between them, like Hinata hadn’t even been talking to him. He expected some other emotion, but there was nothing. Kageyama talked like Kageyama.

The rest of practice was like that. Kageyama insulted him like always, but it didn’t sound malicious or even nicer than usual.

Hinata began wondering if he had dreamt the whole thing, but decided he hadn’t. He couldn’t dream up the coldness in Kageyama’s steely gaze the previous night.

Apparently, though, he was the only one who remembered. Kageyama obviously hadn’t said anything to the rest of the team, or he would’ve been subjected to hell already, and he wasn’t acting differently.

Hinata almost wished Kageyama would be angry with him. That Tanaka would tease him about it and Tsukishima would taunt him. That Kageyama would hit him or yell at him. That he’d get a talking to by coach Ukai or Takeda sensei.

But, none of that happened.

So he pretended like it hadn’t happened too.

But this was so much worse than it had been before. He still had to yell at Kageyama to keep tossing to him and insult him back and pretend he was fine. Now, though, he knew that Kageyama knew.

Kageyama knew and he didn’t fucking care.

He didn’t fucking care that he had stolen Hinata’s heart, crushed it beneath his feet, and walked away with it.

He didn’t fucking care that Hinata’s eyes were still slightly red from the endless tears he had cried last night.

All for him.

Finally, Hinata couldn’t take it anymore.

He feigned that he had left something in the club room and rushed out before anyone could even ask him what he could’ve possibly forgotten.

He got into the room and slammed the doors shut, keeping the lights off. He walked to the corner and leaned against it as tears began rolling down his face. He slid down to the floor, a choked sob escaping his lips.

He gripped his shirt with one hand and covered his mouth with the other, unable to contain his painful tears anymore. His body was shaking as he heaved out sobs, invaded by his heartache.

Kageyama, you idiot, he thought angily. You dumbass. Idiot. Stupid. Worthless.

Why can’t you love me back?

Hinata sobbed harder at that thought, wrapping his arms around his knees and burying his head into them.

That started swirling around in his head as his sleeves became soaked with his tears like a mantra.

Why can’t you love me back?

Hinata heard the door open and opened his eyes, which had been clenched shut, so he was looking at the floor. He saw a shaft of light coming from the direction of the door that got wider as it got pushed open. He didn’t raise his head, instead stifling his sobs.

Maybe, he told himself, if he stayed quiet enough they would just leave. For a second he thought it had worked when he could see the light on the floor narrow and disappear and heard the door close softly. Unfortunately, the sound of footsteps approaching him proved him wrong.

“Sorry,” he sniffled, refusing to look up at the person in shame, “I’ll go back to practice in a bit, I swear.”

You’re so pathetic, he thought to himself, embarrased that he, the sunshine of Karasuno, had been caught crying, all over some stupid crush that didn’t even like him.

He heard the person, who was now in front of him, huff out a small breath as they crouched down. Hinata looked at the person’s black volleyball shoes and their bare knees against the club room floor, the only thing he could see about them. He figured it was either Daichi or Suga, since they had been dubbed as the parents of Karasuno and were the ones most likely to come seek him out.

He wasn’t prepared, however, for the quiet voice that sounded in front of him.

“Dumbass.”

Hinata tensed up, his eyes widening in shock. Of course, he should’ve recognized the shoes.

What was he doing here? Why him of all people?

He figured Daichi or Suga or even coach Ukai had sent him. He never would’ve come to find him on his own. Or maybe he had.

Hinata immediately shut down his own hopeful thoughts. He probably just wanted him back so they could practice their quick attack. Kageyama had made it very clear he didn’t want anything to do with Hinata besides that.

“You’re such a dumbass,” Kageyama said in an almost...was that a remorseful tone? No, Hinata had probably just misheard him.

Kageyama, much to Hinata’s surprise, continued on. “Why do you make me care so much about you?” he said, and though his tone was angry, the sentiment was clear in his voice, pouring over Hinata like ice water.

He lifted his head slowly, his blurry, teary eyes roaming up Kageyama’s body to his face. He was crouched down precariously, his elbows leaning on his knees and his back hunched over. His eyes were aimed at the floor, and his face wore an expression Hinata hadn’t seen before. It almost looked like pity, remorse, anger, frustration, and sadness rolled into one. It made Hinata confused.

Was he feeling bad about what he had said to Hinata? Or maybe he just was guilty about Hinata crying?

Kageyama’s eyes were restless, looking from his shoes to his hands to the floor, but never at Hinata. The latter, on the other hand, kept his eyes trained on Kageyama’s, though more tears threatened to spill out.

“You just…” Kageyama seemed to be trying to find the right words to say whatever it is he wanted to say. “You smile and then I wanna smile, and you laugh and I wanna laugh, and you’re always there, even when you’re not. It’s like you’re just stuck in my head, always, and it’s so weird.”

Hinata at this point was thoroughly confused. Kageyama was speaking so quietly and it almost seemed like he was talking to himself.

Kageyama looked up, and his eyes didn’t have the same look they had the previous night. They seemed so sad-looking almost, so frustrated. Had he always looked like that?

“I just don’t get it. Why do I care so much?”

Hinata’s tears had stopped as Kageyama was talking, but now they started rolling down, shooting down his cheeks and rolling off his chin. “You said you didn’t like me though. You...you looked like you wanted me to, like, I-I don’t know, disappear or something. I-” Hinata’s voice caught as a sob threatened to come out of his throat - “I thought you hated m-me.”

Hinata was full-on crying again, tears coming down much faster and much more intensely.

Kageyama’s gaze held something in it that made Hinata want to scream at him. About what, he didn’t know, but he just wanted to.

Hinata watched Kageyama’s hand come up slowly, and he thought that he was going to hit him or something. To his surprise, Kageyama cupped his cheek gently and began wiping away the tears with his thumb as they rolled down. The tears kept coming, but they were much slower as Hinata’s eyes widened in surprise. He had definitely not been expecting this.

Kageyama’s hand was rough and calloused, but it felt nice on Hinata’s face. His thumb was surprisingly gentle, wiping away his tears.

“Hinata, I don’t hate you,” he said, and his expression turned softer, looking at Hinata almost tenderly.

“I love you.”

Hinata gaped at him, stunned. Did he really mean that? Or was this all some joke Kageyama was playing on him? He hadn’t imagined his expression yesterday, or his words. How could he just come out and say this?

“What?” was all Hinata could breathe out, his tears coming slowly to a halt. This had to be a joke. “What?”

“You heard me, dumbass,” Kageyama said, his usual scowl coming back on. He sighed and his expression became much softer. “I’ve loved you for so long. At first I thought it was just because you could spike my balls and you were my teammate and stuff, and also my best friend. But best friends don’t wanna hold each other’s hands and kiss them. I didn’t wanna mess things up between us. What if things got awkward and we can’t play volleyball together anymore? I’d rather you never know how I feel and still be friends than you knowing how I feel and not being friends.”

Kageyama kept his hand cupped on Hinata’s face, even though his tears had stopped. Hinata liked it, and now he could feel his face grow warm as the touch and his words sunk in.

Suddenly, he grew angry. So he had agonized over him for nothing? He had waited for months to even tell him in the most superficial way how he felt only for him to tell him that he had liked him too? He - though slightly reluctantly - shoved Kageyama’s hand off his face and gave him a glare while the other looked at him in surprise.

“Bakageyama!” he yelled at him. “Why didn’t you tell me this yesterday? I almost didn’t come to practice because of you! I’ve loved you for months and you just tell me this now and want me to like ride off into the sunset with you and forget that you made me cry?”

“It’s not like you’re at practice anyways, dumbass!” Kageyama yelled back at him, not really knowing why they were yelling.

“You lied to me!”

“‘Cause I didn’t know what to say!”

“You could’ve said ‘Well, Hinata, I have a crush on you too’!”

“I panicked!”

“So did I!”

“How was I supposed to say that I like you?”

“You just say it!”

“Dumbass Hinata!”

“Bakageyama!”

“I love you!”

There were those words again. Hinata couldn’t even find something to yell back at him. He must’ve really meant it if he had said it more than once to him already. He should’ve been jumping up with joy and kissing him, but he just couldn’t bring himself to believe that this was the same Kageyama that had been so angry with him just yesterday.

“How do I know you’re not just saying that to me?” Hinata said quietly, sadly, dropping his eyes to Kageyama’s shirt so he didn’t have to look into his eyes anymore. If he looked into his eyes he might cave in to his desperate feelings.

Hinata saw, once again, Kageyama’s hand lift up slowly. This time, though, Kageyama’s fingers were placed under his chin and he tilted Hinata’s head up, forcing them to make eye contact.

“Because you make me feel things I’ve never felt before. I feel all hot inside whenever you’re around, and even if we lose every single match for the rest of high school I would be happy just knowing that we lost together.” Kageyama paused, trying to find the exact thing he wanted - no, the exact thing he needed to say. “I wanna play every single game with you for the rest of my life, and I wanna eat lunch with you every day, and I wanna tell you I love you every time I talk.”

Hinata’s heart fluttered as Kageyama leaned forward a bit more, normally cold blue eyes meeting normally bright amber ones.

“I wanna be with you forever.”

Hinata’s breath hitched at the seriousness and the conviction that Kageyama said that with. In an instant, he knew that he wasn’t kidding or that he was just trying to be dramatic. Kageyama really did want to be with him.

“Forever and ever?” Hinata asked, looking at Kageyama with big, pleading eyes, silently begging Kageyama to just say yes.

Kageyama answered him in his own way. He closed the already close distance between them and connected him and Hinata’s lips.

Hinata felt something go off inside him. The only way he could describe it was like he was flying. He didn’t feel like he was melting into the kiss like so many books said, but he felt like he was soaring up off the ground, seeing a new view he’d never seen before, one he was sure only Kageyama could give him.

The kiss was over soon enough and they pulled back, both of them blushing, staring at each other breathless.

“Forever and ever.”

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

thank you so much again for requesting this! i really hope it was good. make sure to like, reblog, and follow me if you like it! i get really lonely

remember i love you all you’re amazing and meat is god

#haikyuu!!#kagehina #fluff #angst #writing requests #hq #hinata #kageyama #hq angst #haikyuu angst #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #fic request

54 notes · View notes

thorsstorms · 5 years ago

Text

Abroad Pt. 19

Summary: Being the Hemsworth Kids’ Nanny, you were vowed to keep it strictly professional for their sake, but do the stolen glances go unnoticed between you both?

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: y’all know I’m a bitch for angst by now right?

A/N: @hildehuffles this ones for you. ALSO. THE YOUTUBE CHANNEL IM TALKING ABOUT IS YES THEORY. I was in Venice a couple weeks ago, and felt like adding in a little get away like I had done. I told no one I was going and literately hopped on a plane with an Airbnb secured. #SeekDiscomfort also one of the best trips to LA I had ever taken. 10/10 recommend.

Masterlist

Your eyes were glued to the generously sized television screen mounted on the wall, holding the flimsy bottle of water tight in your hands. The conversation took a swift turn with only a sentence spoken and it was the two of you dressed at the premier that was painting the background. You knew she was only doing this to tease him, and the sly comments he made in turn settled your nerves.

“So Chris… Who? Who‘s that?” His eyes were drawn to the monitor, not startled at all by her outburst but calm, with a telltale pink tint creeping up and a squinty eyed smile trying to stay buried.

The crowd whoops in retaliation.

He stayed silent a moment more, staring at the monitor, thinking of a way to answer until the crowd calms down. The comedian looks mischievous, obviously taking pride in his suffering though she knows exactly who you are now. The crowd doesn’t need to know that detail. She only means to tease, it’s who she was!

He folds his hands, rubbing them together before simply saying, “I have never seen that woman in my life.” Obviously joking.

“Oh come on!” she pushed, glowing eyes with a smile stretching across her cheeks.

“Yea, yea. That is my girly-friend, you could say. It’s-It’s weird to say that because I feel like she’s more than just a girlfriend, you know?” He glances again back at the large picture behind him before running a hand down the side of his face, focusing back forwards. He knows you are just watching the screen, glued to the screen at that, in the green room. He didn't know what you were thinking! It could go one of two ways in his mind. Absolutely silently losing your mind or laughing in retaliation to his discomfort of not knowing what to say. Hopefully the latter.

“Oh! I know.” She jokes, full on laughing at him while he smirks but stares daggers playfully. She knows you were more than just a girlfriend in his mind now, but how could he resist the shot of you meeting and hugging Ellen Degeneres and not stick the ring up and snap a photo of the moment while you were faced away? She was a trustworthy person, or so he hoped. Not proven wrong so far.

“Okay, Okay,” she settles herself. “So tell me, where did you find her?” She was keen to the details.

“Uhh- The internet,” he says without missing a beat. You almost choke on your own spit at his fast response, not knowing whether to laugh or crawl into a hole. But the crowd loved it, laughing. He sure got a kick out of the response, thinking he, himself, was funny. Loser.

“You are joking.” Ellen says, dead panning him.

“No, no really. My, uh, my manager found her for me.” He continues on, deceiving the crowd. Depriving them of the whole truth.

“Oh my god, Chris,” you mutter to yourself in the quiet room. Ellen got a kick out of that even more, stopping him from continuing down this road. He obviously was not going to give straight forward answers.

“Okay, okay.” She switches to a different question. “So…” She dragged out for an effect. Maybe just to make him squirm.

“Oh no,” he mumbled. She just had a look, a look that told that she had so many wrong questions under her sleeve.

“You filming something Chris?” The crowd slowly grew to giggle when he didn’t answer. Just stared her down trying not to react.

“Do you have, like, anything I can answer?!” He burst with a chuckle, wiping his palms on his thighs. “I’m just in town, and agreed to come see you and you treat me like this!” His smile was bright while she muttered apologies, laughing at his distress.

The interview eventually calmed down, them playing a rapid fire game afterwards. You finally settle into the couch to watch the interactions.

That was so not as bad as it could have been. He knew what he was doing during interviews anyway, or you had hoped.

You slept in the next morning, only waking to acknowledge that he was leaving for the day. This was a free day to yourself and sleeping in as long as you wanted seemed like the best way to start.

He left you with a mere kiss on the nose before he trudged out the door. The night before was yet another dismissal and it left you flustered and annoyed as all get out, so the day to yourself was the best present around.

Regardless of how much you thought you wanted a calm day, you were texting him by noon, telling him you were bored. By the time he replied, a mere 45 minutes later you were already sucked into YouTube. You found a new channel that piqued your interest and were easily four videos in.

“Sorry princess. Come with me tomorrow?”

You read the preview and sighed, ignoring it for the moment and pressed play on the video again. These guys in the videos were entertaining... inspiring, even.

By the time the fifth video started, their names were easily remembered. What sparked interest even more was the fact that they are based out of Venice Beach, a mere 45 minute drive through LA, on a good day at least.

The video of them walking the sidewalks interviewing strangers that were bold enough to go on an adventure made you want to feel the same sun they were obviously surrounded in. The couch had been your home for the last hour, a window open to let in some light, shining gold streaks through the room, but it wasn't enough.

The rules that plagued yourself were on a repeat in your head as you clicked on another video, then another, and another. You were not supposed to be spending too much time staring at a screen. You weren't supposed to drive, or go out on your own because you are still healing. You're not supposed to be in such sunny areas it could hurt your eyes still. Don't do this, don't do that.

It is suffocating. Infuriating that the list of long don'ts probably repeats through Chris’s head like a mantra, that's why he won't touch you. That's why he won't let you touch him.

Anger slowly flowed through your mind as you started to lose focus on the video playing. You closed the app and opened google maps, staring at the words ‘Venice Beach’ in correlation to where you were stuck inside, across the city. It was like torturing yourself. A silent battle of wanting to just go, go and then think about it later.

You slowly rolled your shoulders back as you sat up on the cushions of the couch that were not as comfy as you had hoped. The time on the lock screen taunted back at you. You could go and make it back in enough time to be home before Chris got back. You scoffed at the thought. He wouldn't be happy, but you were an adult. A very capable adult who can make their own choices. Staying in your bubble of Byron almost makes you forget your own sense of independence. He doesn't get to decide what you can and can't do.

The bathroom light shone a tad brighter than the natural lighting in the living room, eyes squinting quickly at the flush. You moved to the sink to wash your face, pulled a hair tie to braid your hair, and picked out some clothes.

Double checking for your wallet and phone in your purse brought on second thoughts. You never answered his text. He probably wouldn't notice for a while anyway. You pushed away the small ache of neglect that settled inside, it wasn't his fault. He was working. It’s when he wasn't working, that's when brush offs hurt the most.

Checking your makeup again in the mirror to make sure the covering was adequate over the blueing bruises, you made your way out, pulling the door behind you after ordering an Uber to Venice.

Los Angeles wasn't all the glitz and glam that movies made it out to be. You learned that pretty fast last time you all had been here, with the kids. Having a temporary place in Burbank meant crossing the city often, though a quick commute for Chris. The studios were not but a 6 minute drive away. Ideal, yes. But fun, no.

The drive seemed quick, the driver was slightly chattier than what you thought was normal but you were not complaining. You may have just had a week with more adult action than you’d had in the last few months combined but you were never one to be impolite. You didn't say much, only that you've never visited Venice before and didn't know why, so you just said ‘why not?’.

When the vehicle came to a stop and a moment of regret flushed forward, but you pushed it back quick. Going by yourself was not the worst thing in the world. How else were you going to be able to see what you wanted to see? You didn't know anybody here in L.A. other than Chris. It wasn't like you could call Miley up and ask her to stroll around town with you. Well, you could. But - not like this.

You adjusted your own sunglasses as you walked the last block towards the water. The art on the walls were bright and gave off calm vibes. A skateboard whizzed past you quickly, catching you off guard. You sidestepped to the right of the sidewalk and watched him ride past you and others, closer towards the shops. Clutching your bag closer to your body, you continued, rounding the corner to what was familiar from the videos you had been so enamoured with.

Towering palm trees. Bikes, so many bikes. So many skateboards. You looked around a moment after making sure you were out of the walk way, admiring the ease of the people around. The skatepark up on the hill and the art lining the sidewalks it was all what you hoped to see from the video.

The shops were cute, making your way through a few. So many surf shops and all you could think about was guilt that Chris didn't know you left the apartment. Everything reminds you of him. A fire fight started in your brain - consisting of respect you had for having a partner versus having a sense of independency. You didn't have to disclose every footstep, you never expected him to, at least.

The spiral of your thoughts continued as you strolled across the sidewalks, leaving behind the shops. You took a seat in the grass overlooking the busy basketball courts and pulled your phone out. Ignoring the warmth on your shoulders from the sun, you checked for any notifications and were met with none.

Did you have a right to feel the way you were feeling at the moment?

Was it selfish? Was it hormones? Forget that.

But were you chalking it up to be something more, just a spiral of thoughts when he wasn't there to discredit them? Your clouds caused a moment of zoning out as you pondered.

You both spent all day yesterday together, he even made you dinner, working in the kitchen with music playing while you watched him from the couch. Admiring and happy to see him. A glint in your eyes that stayed, unsubdued. A girl can't help but be worked up when she had gone so long without him, pregnancy hormones were no help to the cause. All you wanted was for him to acknowledge what you had been repeatedly showing off.

You were horny.

There was no other way to put it. And a healing head injury was not going to magically make the want disappear, even if it seemed to have made the want disappear from himself. The thought made your stomach clench, remembering when he turned around and caught you staring at him with lustful, shameless eyes.

He knew the look. He knew it very well. But what happened when his eyes met you made your blood run cold, your feet quickly allowing you to leave the room so the hitch in your breath wasn't caught by his ears.

He had looked away from your gaze with a sigh, turning his back to you. Another word didn't leave his mouth until he had come to find you in the bedroom to tell you that dinner was ready. He stopped himself from pushing open the door when he heard you talking. The sadness in your voice, clouded with tears as you spoke to whoever was on the other line.

“We had such a good day, I had such a good day,” you corrected. “But, but I just-” you stopped a moment, taking in a shaking breath to gather your thoughts. He looked at his feet, bowing his head when the upset nature of the phone call settled in his mind.

“I just miss him so much Bri, and I feel like he just doesn't see me. I feel -”

Your speech was cut off by yelling through the line of the phone. You sucked in a breath and it came out in a shudder, trying to calm your own emotions. He didn't know what she was saying but it silenced you. He felt heavy with guilt that he was the source of your anguish. He needed to stop being weak. He was scared to hurt you but here he was, causing you pain repeatedly until he was the source of your tears. He didn't know if you were crying or not, but he could feel the pain and confusion behind your words.

You started to wrap up the call. A sting of “I know”s and “Okay”s spilled off your tongue and he made his way back to the kitchen, hoping you wouldn't feel upset if you knew that he was listening.

He stood plating the stir fry when you made your way back into the room with a grim smile, peaking at him and muttering ‘thank you’.

You remembered how he led you to the couch and played a random movie on the TV while you ate. He pulled you close to him when you both cleared you plates. The rush that had flooded through you made you blush. You sat there snuggled to him for almost an hour before you both headed to bed and he didn't touch you again. He said all the right things, but words were hard at having such a meaning when his actions were iffy.

“I love you.”

“I'm glad you're here with me.”

“I missed you.”

“I love you, so much,” he would say with a rub on your arm.

A small kiss to your temple and you rolled on your side away from him, closing your eyes. Unbeknownst to you, he felt a bit of his heart break away when he watched you reach for the blankets and tug them to your shoulders, seeking them out for warmth rather than himself.

The empty notification screen mocked you, clicking the phone off once again. You looked up at your surroundings to admire the feel. It was busy, but not uncomfortably so. The skatepark behind you was bustling, and so were the basketball courts in front of you. But right there, where the grass was a soft green and you leaned against the raised plateau behind you, it was serene. Fairly quiet for the crowd around, but it was as if the sound didn't carry. The seagulls above were gliding, and the faint clicks of skate wheels hitting the ground blurred into the background noise of music coming from the shops.

It was a good spot to think. Something you have alway done far too much of.

The buzz in your hand had you snaping your head towards it, a dull ache spreading down your neck at the swift movement. The message had you jumping to your feet, making your way to the corner where you were dropped off.

“Almost done here. In the mood to go out for food?”

He beat you home, only by a minute though it seemed. As you were stepping out of the car and thanking the driver, your phone started ringing. You declined, tossing it into the mess of a purse you had as you made your way inside to the elevators, favoring talking to him in person instead.

The ride up seemed to go by faster than any other time before, allowing your nerves to revv in the light of Chris possibly being upset. The padding of your shoes made it to the door, your hand pushing it open.

His eyes met yours when the door opened and unsurprisingly the first words out of his mouth were, “where were you?”

“I just needed to get out for a bit,” you acknowledged lightly, setting your purse on the counter tops. You didn't meet his eyes, turning your back and digging for your phone. His voice was laced with curiosity, not expecting you to not be there when he arrived, even if you were only off by a mere minute or two.

“Where did you go?” He asked, keeping his feet planted. You turn to see him. He truly had just gotten here, a bag still thrown over his shoulder and shoes still on his feet. His brows furrowed as you met his eyes and then diverted from them again, absentmindedly rubbing your temple where bruises were covered.

“I went to Venice Beach, I haven't been there before and I just want to walk aro-”

“How did you get to Venice? Did you go by yourself?” He worried on with a malice tone. Your ears were growing red as he spoke.

“Yes I went by myself, who else would I have gone with?” You hissed at him. You could already feel your hands shaking. You knew you had worked yourself up today while you were out and were just waiting for the point to start a fight. Still completely confused on whether he deserved it or not, but you were beyond frustrated.

“I don't know anybody here! I have one friend who I barely see! Yes! I went by myself. I needed to be around people. I'm lonely!” You raised your voice at him. He stepped towards you with his hands out when your defense shot up. You crossed your arms around yourself protectively, delivering a sign of needing to be comforted, even if by your own arms.

“I'm sick of being by myself!” You told him as he grew closer, watching with pained eyes as you laid it out for him. “I just - God I don’t know. I just - I needed to get out and do something.”

“Hey,” he calmed. “Im right here.”

“No, Chris!” You pushed his outstretched hands away from your own. “You're not.” You took a deep breath while he stood speechless, catching an eyeful of the hurt you were carrying on your shoulders.

“Princess,” he pleaded, waiting for you to take a look at him but your eyes were wandering to any surface but his.You couldn't get the right words out to say. It had always been like this when you grew frustrated, your own vocabulary runs from your thoughts. You grew silent as a tear finally fell from your eyes but was quickly wiped away by his own fingers. When you didn't protest his touch he took that as a good sign. He muttered your name in surrender.

“What do you want me to do?” He watched for a reaction. “Tell me what I can do.” He was at a loss. Spending more time apart than together was a strain that was eerily familiar and it pressed down on him so hard he was ready to beg for understanding. He wanted to understand what he could do to make this better but what you said next caught him off guard, rendering him silent and confused.

“Do you love me?”

His eyes burned at the yearning of your question. The watery eyes that flicked to his in search of an answer. His lips were dropped open at the turn of events this evening had taken. He thought about this evening all day. He was going to let you choose the place for dinner and shower you with dessert, with love, and affection to make up for what he had overheard. He wanted to show you the beautiful diamond that had your name written all over it and ask a very important question.

He was too quiet, mulling over how he had gotten to this point while you stood with uncertainty, continuing on your quest of finding answers.

“I know I'm starting to look different,” your head bowed at the revelation that he might not like what he sees. “And we are so far apart alot, but I'm still me.”

He spoke your name, drawing himself from his silent trance, wanting you to stop now and not speak another incredulous word.

“My face,” you whispered sadly. “It will go away in a little bit...” The whole in your chest was opening, grabbing a hold of your voice and refusing to let another word out.

“Baby, stop,” his words filled the empty void when yours ceased. He eyed a hand of yours making its way to your neck, a sign of discomfort. He stopped it in its tracks and pulled you to his chest.

His arms cocooned you, holding you far too tight to be comfortable, but you needed it. To feel he was there and there with you. He pressed you head to his chest with the revelation of disregarding his own hesitancy of somehow hurting you with his touch. His heartbeat melding with your own as you froze, slowly melting your guard until tears wet his shirt.

If his goal was to keep you from harm, he failed. It was proven when you released the tension from your shoulders against his grip. His words repeated until you showed signs of listening. Words of reassurance and love. Words filled with apologies and pleads for you to forgive him for causing you this pain. He was naive to think of you in such a way. To make up a version of yourself that was weak or fragile. He lost sight of the fire you have in your veins when happiness emits from your aura. The glow you have when your body shakes from laughter. The strong independent girl that rounded the corner of his kitchen and introduced herself without a glitch of uncertainty. But here you were asking for reassurance and he knew it was his own fault.

You cried in his arms, letting him carry your weight from the room before he sat down on the bed and let you take a moment to breathe, curled atop his knees and listening to his voice.

“Hey,” He said, lifting a hand from your shoulder to run over his face, drying the wetness that plagued his own skin. “You are so beautiful that it takes my breath away. Perfect. And I mean in every sense. You will always be perfect. Princess I never want to hear you say those words again. You are so perfect. And always will be. We have a little baby growing.” You took a deep breath, picking your head off his shoulder and reaching down to lay a hand over the swell in your tummy.

“A baby!” He said, laying a hand over your own, though waiting for you to meet his eyes again. “You will look different, princess, and I will be here and love every single minute of it. I promise. No doctor appointments with Bri, I will be here. And this,” He brushed your hair away from your face, fingers lingering against your scalp. Your head tilted up and basked in the touch.

“This I take responsibility for. It eats me up inside, but you still take my breath away. Every time, and always will.” He watched as you looked at him and listened intimately to what he was saying. “And I want to be the person you go places with. You can go alone if you like,” he added, “but I will never not want to be by your side. Do you understand me?”

You look on a second more, gauging his expression and contemplating his words before you nod. “No more tears, please.” His hands moved to cradle your face, thumbs clearing the skin and in a flash his lips met yours. Filled with promise, he kissed you like you wished he would for days. You craved his taste and was letting you have it, finally feeding into the small fire in the pit of your stomach.

“I love you so much,” he whispered against your lips.

“I have something I want to show you,” he admitted, pulling away. A deep, clarifying breath escaped your lungs and he rubbed your back in turn, reaching in his pocket for his phone with the other hand.

His fingers fumbled across the screen, having to reenter the password twice. You looked away and laid your head into the crock of his neck, closing your eyes. Whatever it was, surely it could wait while your heart mellowed to a regular pace.

The peace was cut short when he whispered your name again, drawing your eyes open. He pushed his phone from his hand and into yours.

“There’s an album right here with your name on it.” You looked on at his camera albums listed on the bright screen. “And I want you to look through it.” He was certain with his words, urging you on.

“Why?” you asked, looking back up at him.

“I love you so much princess, I just want to show you, I want for you to know it and never question it again.” His sincerity was clear, nodding back down towards the phone in your hands. You opened it without a word and clicked on a photo. It was nice, from a few months back, but neither you nor India were looking towards him. She sat in front of you on the kitchen counter, clearly way past her bedtime. Both of you sneaking a bowl of ice cream but what stood out was the smile adorning both of your faces. Crazy hair and slightly sunburned cheeks laughing at each other. You remembered the night clearly, both of you having a private running joke to see how much ice cream you both could eat before Papa notices and “makes us eat salad for dinner”.

You sneaked a look up at him after glancing at the photo, “You know we sneak ice cream all the time, right?”

“Sure do,” he laughed in return. “Keep going.”

You looked back down at the phone and swiped to see another. A photo snuck from the doorway while you rested your head in your hand, elbows on the table as you watched the boys write something out on some paper in the homeschool room, reaching out with the other hand to point at something on Tristans’ sheet.

The next one was you sitting at the foot of the couch while India stood tall above you trying to put a braid in your locks while Sasha sat on your legs with a book in his hand. It was serene, calm. You pressed down on the picture to watch the Live, a short clip of fingers tangling in your hair and Sasha's voice reading aloud. You stifle a smile at it.

The next made you suck in a breath. You were sleeping in his bed at home, the sheet barely covering you. The curve of your back disappearing into the sheets, obviously sleeping in the nude, unaware of the camera pointed at you.

“Chris!” You teased, looking at him. And smirked and shrugged his shoulders, encouraging you again to continue. You brought your attention back to the photos, swiping through more and more. There were many and you kept going at a steady pace until another caught your eye.

You brought the screen to your eyes to examine it, brows furrowing in curiosity. Sasha’s room, although slightly messy, was easily recognizable as you lounged on the bed in the background, lying next to the boy.

Fingers trapping a small ring with an identifiable glow thrusting off the jewel perched atop. The pads of your fingers zoomed in on the object, at the same time, fairly sure your lungs stopped working.

You quickly swiped to the next picture, though the same ring adorned the foreground.

This time you stood against the bathroom counter brushing out your hair. The circle of jewelry resting around his own finger, reaching just below the first knuckle before it got stuck. You stared at the daring ring, resisting the urge to look at the man whose chest was pressed against your shoulder, whose arm rested across your back, rubbing gently, urging for you to continue.

You covered your mouth at the next one, fingers resting across your lips in astonishment. The bare skin of your shoulders were accented by the waves of your hair falling over them. Eyes closed, rested against his chest in search of sleep. He was cheeky, smiling in the photo, showing off a glowin diamond on a ring far too small for his own fingers.

The next picture was another of the same nature. Then a photo of you reaching for a glass in the kitchen. One of you sleeping on a plane. One of you naked, behind the blurred glass of the shower doors. One of you staring intently at your phone while standing at the counter. One of you standing in the mirror, examining, no - admiring the form of your growing baby.

You knew Chris was up to something, fidgeting after taking that photo, looking guilty as all get out. A brief watery laugh escaped as you reached that one.

The next was hilarious, Ellen with her face over your shoulder, with a surprised look, staring right at the camera. She knew!

You looked up at him, waiting for an answer to these photos. He just smiled and nudged you till you finished. There were more, a few more, as recent as this morning before he snuck away to go to set.

“It’s for you, love,” his voice whispers against the skin of your neck, lowering his lips to press a kiss where he knows you melt no matter the circumstance. An arm tightened around your back as he leaned forward and reached under the mattress, pulling a hidden box from the crease. You glazed at it as he switched hands and then brought it to you, flipping it open.

It was there, in person and not in a photo, demanding attention is the slyest of ways. It was beautiful, extravagant with an essence of simplicity. Words were caught in your throat as you stared at it, slowly blurring from your vision from unwelcome tears.

“Will you marry me?”

#chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth fanfiction #chris hemsworth x reader #chris hemsworth fluff #chris hemsworth x you #avengers masterlist

95 notes · View notes

alwayschoosechocolate · 5 years ago

Text

One-night stands and one-shot chances (part x)

University AU

Pairing: Jin x reader

Who says sex has to mean anything? Who says you can’t just screw around without all the heartache? Who says only guys get this privilege? What happens when the biggest playboy on campus suddenly meets his match and gets a taste of his own medicine?

Genre: casual sex, mentions of sex, bestfriend!Hoseok, onenightstand!Jin, romance

Word count: 4k

Taglist: @esplosionedicoloriintesta @jeonjunggoodgod @rjsmochii@spookidema @pariz-lover @mymochimchimmy @seokjinnieismine @cloudyelizabeth @livesmileandstaystrong@thisistoooooomuch@okaysoplshelpme @secondstanza @eanielsen07 @lidda @6bottlesofwine @honeybeeforv

Masterpost with the other parts of the story can be found here and my masterlist is here

A/N: Hi my loves! I am finally back with an update! Thank you for being so patient with me! I will try to be better moving forward. I even made a schedule for myself, so I should get better at posting regularly! Enjoy! And as always, let me know what you think in the comments!

Cuddling meant nothing. Cuddling meant nothing. Cuddling meant nothing.

Like a mantra, Jin chanted the words internally as the movie played on the screen in front of you.

No flirting. Nothing.

Gritting his teeth as he tried to pick up the movie playing on the screen once more, he reminded himself of how you always cuddled whoever was closest to you. It didn’t even have to be someone you knew. You were just always touching the person next to you. So that you were pressed against his side now with an arm draped across his stomach meant nothing, right?

Of course not. Before you had slept together, you had often cuddled him. Granted not alone in the house while watching a movie, but backhugs weren’t uncommon nor was the occasional shoulder rub.

Suddenly a lightbulb lit up in Jins head and he widened his eyes in realization.

If you didn’t consider cuddling to be flirting, then he could be as clingy as he wanted these days! No strings attached. No hidden meaning. Just free uncomplicated cuddles for an entire week!

Grinning at his own discovery, he suddenly felt way more at ease at the prospect of spending an entire week alone with you. He would just direct all his flirting into cuddling, and you would never need to know.

Settling deeper against the backrest of the couch, he confidently pulled you tighter in his embrace, making you look at him in confusion.

“What are you doing?”

“Just getting more comfortable. I’m getting sleepy and I don’t want to have neck pain from sitting in a weird position if I fall asleep,” he reasoned, doing his absolute best to hide his mischievous grin, when you simply shrugged your shoulders and allowed him to rest his head on the top of your head.

Fighting back the victorious smile from appearing on his lips, Jin took a deep breath as he tried to calm his heart. Despite the comfortable silence between you, the coziness of the blankets around you and the calmness of it all, he felt a tinge of danger in the air. Like a false sense of security.

He was so used to being on high alert around you that it felt wrong to actually be at ease with you.

“Can I ask you something?”, he asked, voice hesitant and slightly slurred as sleep had already seeped into his vocal cords.

“Yeah?”

“Why aren’t we fighting right now? You usually hate me. What changed?”

Biting back a chuckle, you reached up to ruffle his hair slightly and heard him hum slightly in response.

“You did, Jin. You usually treat me like dirt, but you’ve been nice to me today, so I’m reciprocating that,” you spoke sincerely and giggled slightly when you saw him frowning in confusion. “It’s really that simple. You’re nice to me, I’m nice to you. If you treat me like you have been before, I’ll give back just the same.”

Silently taking in your words, he kept his gaze on the movie in front of him.

“So if I’m nice to you and treat you well, you’ll be nice to me as well? We can go back to being friends?”, he asked slowly as if picking out each word carefully, like a kid learning something new and repeating it back to make sure they actually understood it right.

“Sure. When you stop treating me like an unintelligent object that you only want to sleep with, then yeah, we can be friends,” you shrugged, shifting slightly so his head wasn’t resting on you anymore and you were able to face him instead. “I mean that, Jin. I never hated you, but I did hate how you talked to and about me.”

Giving him a slight glare at the memories, you saw him wince and avoid eye contact just the same as he had when you confronted him about calling you a whore.

“I know, I was an idiot,” he admitted, giving you a sheepish smile. “I’m really sorry. I promise I won’t treat you like that again. I really do want us to be friends and honestly I think it would make everything easier.”

Now it was your turn to tilt your head in confusion, only making Jin roll his eyes at you.

“Oh, come on. We both know this has been awkward for the others. Me constantly disappearing, us fighting all the time. We’re like an old married couple who should really just get a divorce, but we haven’t even been dating,” he chuckled with an amused smile as he got up to fetch some water, leaving you alone to sort through your thoughts.

Sure, you knew everyone had been a bit on edge, but had it really been that bad?

Vaguely remembering Hoseoks reminder for you to try to not disagree with more of his housemates, your felt a twinge of guilt shot through your chest. Maybe this whole thing with Jin had gotten out of control, you mused as you looked towards the sound of him moving around the kitchen. If that was true, then Jin was right. You should at least try to make it work. If anything, then for Hobi’s sake. You didn’t want to be the reason he disagreed with his housemates.

And you did make it work. The two of you spent the weekend bundled up on the couch watching movies, eating Jins excellent cooking and actually getting to know each other. Though most of the time was still spent squabbling and teasing each other, the air between the two of you had gotten a lot lighter and the teasing a lot more friendly.

As the weekdays rolled around, you found a new rhythm; you went to work in the morning and when you got home, Jin had cooked dinner for the both of you. There were no problems, no arguments, no name-calling and more importantly, there was no flirting at all.

Walking home Thursday evening, you found yourself actually looking forward to coming home to Jin and as you opened the door and was met the heavenly smell of roasted lamb, you bit your lip to contain a giddy giggle of happiness.

“I’m home,” you called out, as you slipped off your shoes and tossed your bag next to the couch, before walking to the kitchen, where Jin greeted you with a casual smile from his hunched over position in front of the stove.

“Hi flower! How was work?”

Grabbing a piece of carrot off the cutting board and popping it in your mouth, you gave him a smile and a shrug as you hopped up on the counter next to the stove.

“Fine. Can’t complain. The receipt printer is still broken though, so I had to write all the receipts by hand,” you chuckled with a headshake as you munched on your snack.

“And you’re laughing at that?”, he asked with an amused smile playing on his lips, eyes still locked on the content of the pots on the stove, as he carefully stirred the content.

As per usual when he was cooking all his focus was on the food. Carrying out a conversation was somewhat possible, but you had quickly realized that he never looked away from the food for too long.

“Yeah, well,” you shrugged, taking advantage of his distracted state to observe him. Actually, observe would be the wrong word to use. You were blatantly staring at him, but you couldn’t help it. There was just something unbelievably comforting about seeing him move around the kitchen so confidently as he cooked. “I couldn’t fix it or do anything about it, so there wasn’t really any point in getting annoyed.”

“Oh? So I guess you won’t be needing the bottle of wine I bought you?”

Widening your eyes at his words, you let out an excited giggle as you hopped off the counter and practically skipped the few meters to the fridge and eagerly pulled out the wine with a wide grin.

Turning around to find two glasses, you missed the way Jins eyes had followed your happy steps with a fond smile and how he was now shaking his head with a soft chuckle, before he turned back to the stove.

Walking back to him, you carefully snuck your arms under his to give him an awkward backhug, holding both glasses in front of his chest to make sure you wouldn’t spill it.

“Thought so,” he hummed with a knowing smirk as he accepted one of the glasses and clinked it with yours, before you withdrew from the embrace taking your glass with you.

“How did you know I would like a glass of wine today?”, you asked, as you hopped back up to your vantage position now with your wine in hand.

“I didn’t really,” he shrugged with a cheeky smile, as he put the wine glass down on the opposite side of the stove. “But I figured it couldn’t hurt to have a bottle around.”

“Kim Seokjin,” you scolded with a laugh clinging to your words. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“From a shared bottle of wine?”, he snorted out in a laugh, as he sent you a sassy smirk. “I know you well enough to know, that it takes a lot more than that to get you drunk.”

“That’s rich coming from you, Mr. the-mininum-of-shots-per-round-is-5,” you countered, as you raised a knowing eyebrow at him.

“There is no need to drag the eyebrow into this, missy,” he scolded, reaching up to tap his index finger against said eyebrow, causing both of you to break out in cackling laughs.

“So what did you do today?”, you inquired as you crossed your legs under you on the tabletop and took a sip of your wine.

“Not much. Went for a run, walked around town for a bit -” waited for you to come home – “nothing too wild,” he ended, sending you a small smile before turning off the stove and arranging the food on plates for you. “So what do you want to do tonight?”

“Uh, I was scrolling through insta on my break and found this recipe for a homemade facemask, I wanted to try,” you explain excitedly, while accepting the plate he offered you. “It’s like moisturizing and supposedly really good. I’m gonna try and make it after dinner and probably watch a series while it sits.”

“Mind if I join you?”, he asked, smiling at the way your face lit up in excitement.

“Sure, I can make like a big portion so there’s enough for both us,” you nodded as you dug into the food, already doubling up the quantities it would take to make enough for two facemasks in your head.

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Jin chuckled anxiously, feeling his ears burn in embarrassment. “Why would I want to do a facemask? I just wanted to join you for the tv series.”

Raising an eyebrow at his statement, you tilted your head as you calmly finished chewing the bite in your mouth, before answering him.

“Why wouldn’t you want to do a facemask? It’s simple skincare, Jin.”

“Isn’t it a bit girly to do facemasks?”, he snorted, only making you squint your eyes at him.

“It’s a facemask, Jin. How on earth do you find that girly? Skincare isn’t gendered.” You tone was teasing, but the ice behind your words was hard to miss. “Besides, we agreed that this house would be both sexless and genderless this week, so even if it was, your words has absolutely no weight here,” you spoke in a firm voice, popping another piece of food in your mouth as your calmly observed him. “Your sexist understanding of the world has no hold in this house, Jin.”

Feeling your eyes piercing through his and hearing the firmness in your voice, left him feeling like a little boy after a scolding, and his ears burned as he thought about how incredibly stupid you must think him to be.

That was until he heard your giggling ringing through the room, making him snap his head back up to find your eyes sparkling and your face split in a breathtaking grin.

“I’m just toying with you, Jin,” you laughed, only feeling slightly guilty for the horrified expression on his face. “You are wrong though. Very much so. But this lamb is so delicious that I’m gonna let it slide,” you winked at him, as you took another bite. “And we’re both gonna do the facemasks later, because it will be good for us and I really want to do this with you.”

Turning back to your food, you missed the way Jins face scrunched up in irritation at your words.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re unbelievably bossy?”, Jin scoffed, as he tried to stop his heart from galloping away in panic at the mere thought of making you angry at him again.

“Of course,” you giggled with a mischievous grin. “Hobi says it’s one of my key characteristics.”

“Well, he would know,” he muttered under his breath, as he silently finished his dinner, only faintly aware of you talking about the annoying customers you had had that day.

Pushing his food around in his plate, he felt annoyance stir in his veins. This wasn’t the first time you had shot him down and sure, he had said some incredibly mean things to you at some of those instances, but enough was enough.

“Remember, when you told me that how you treat me depends on how I treat you?”, he asked, interrupting your story about the non-fat double chocolate girl and making you slightly flustered, as you simply nodded with wide eyes at his firm tone and stern eyes. “Well, I’ve been nothing but kind to you this week. Cooking for you, buying your favorite snacks and drinks. Hell, we only watch the movies you want to watch, because God forbid, we watch something without a female lead,” he mocked with an eye-roll, as he forcefully put his unfinished plate down on the counter with a loud clank, making you flinch in surprise. “And I can live with that. But you need to stop treating me like a child. You boss me around, you mock me and you make me feel like the most idiotic person on the planet. Yes, you might know more than me about certain things, but there are other ways of letting me know that, than rolling your eyes and belittling me! I need you to stop it!”

With each word his voice rose and by the end he was heaving for air and had his fists clenched by his side, as he all but glared at you.

Eyes still widened in surprise by his outburst, you found it impossible to break the intense eye contact between you, as you took in his clearly frustrated state.

“You’re right,” you spoke softly, as realization hit you. “I’m so used to being on the fence about people being assholes to me, and you used to be one of those people. But you’re right. You’re not anymore, so I shouldn’t have kept treating you like one. I’m sorry, Jin.”

Your apology was sincere and the second Jin heard it in your soft voice, the anger evaporated and left him feeling empty. Not even better, just empty.

“I- Yes, exactly!”, he rushed out, frantically trying to hang on to the anger, causing you to smile gently at him.

“You’re not used to people apologizing to you, are you?”, you asked him softly, as you slowly slid down from the counter and walked over to his side and gingerly wrapped your arms around him as if afraid of breaking him. “I’m sorry, I belittled you. I really am. And I promise, as long as you’re kind to me, I won’t be such an asshole to you. But please stop being mad at me. I don’t like seeing you upset,” you spoke against the fabric of his hoodie, turning your face slightly and pressing a kiss to the soft skin on his neck.

Hugging him in complete silence, you allowed him his time to calm down, and when you finally felt his arms snake around you, you squeezed him tighter for a moment, squinting your eyes shut in the process when you felt him shake slightly in your arms.

“I’m sorry, I yelled at you,” he mumbled against your hair, his voice slightly unstable as he kept his hold on you firm. He felt the tears pressing for reasons he didn’t understand, he definitely didn’t need you to see them.

“’s okay. At least you didn’t call me any names this time,” you joked against his chest in an attempt to lighten the mood, though shock shot through you, when you realized what you had just said.

Pulling back from the hug with eyes widened in regret of your own words, an apology ready on your lips, it was all forgotten the second your eyes fell on his tear-glazed eyes.

“Oh, Jinnie. Please don’t cry. I’m sorry,” you rushed out in concern, as you reached up to cup his cheek, only to have Jin swat your hand away and walk away from you as an incomprehensible sentence left his lips, leaving you to look after his figure in bewilderment as you saw him disappear into his room and close the door after him.

“Dammit,” you whispered to yourself, as you felt the ache in your heart at his tears. Shuffling your weight from one foot to the other as you contemplated what to do, you felt completely torn and aimless as you stood alone in the middle of the kitchen. “You really should just leave him alone,” you muttered to yourself as your feet slowly carried you towards his door. “You really shouldn’t meddle. He obviously didn’t want to talk about it,” you scolded yourself quietly, as you stopped in front of his door.

Raising your hand to knock, you let it hover over the wood for a second, before letting your hand fall back against your side and leaning your head against the door frame.

He didn’t want your help. That’s why he walked away. You knew this. You needed to respect his boundaries, you reminded yourself. He had just scolded you for treating him like a child, and here you were ready to barge into his room to console him, like some overprotective mother. Lifting your head from the doorframe, your gaze stayed locked on the door, as if trying to see through it and make sure Jin really was alright on the other side. As the sight of his tear-filled eyes popped into your mind again, it took everything in you to not barge through the door to get to him.

Forcefully pulling yourself back from his door, you steered yourself to the kitchen and quietly started cleaning up with a sigh.

Normally the process would be accompanied by music from Jin’s little red speaker sitting on the windowsill, but it felt disrespectful to play it without him, so you worked in silence, packing up the leftovers, washing both the dishes and pots and pans and wiping down the counters.

As you finished, all that was left was the half-empty wineglasses staring back at you from the otherwise empty counter. Glaring at them in annoyance, you let out a sigh of defeat as you picked them up and cleaned them up as well. Staring around the empty and clean kitchen, you felt fidgety and aimless.

“What now?”, you sighed to yourself, as you thought back to your original plan.

You were definitely not in the mood for facemasks or tv series. Throwing a look towards the hallway and Jin’s room, you felt your feet carry you towards him once more, and this time you made no attempt to stop yourself.

When your knocks sounded through the hallway, your heart leapt into your throat and for a second you contemplated just slipping into Hoseok’s room on the other side of the hall and acting like you were never there.

“What?”

His voice was gruff and definitely not inviting in any way, but you couldn’t help it. You needed to make sure he was okay.

“Can I come in?”, you asked hesitantly, hand already resting on the doorknob.

“Why?”

“I just want to make sure, you’re okay. You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to. I just want to be next to you. If you’ll let me.”

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, and when you finally heard his accepting grunt, you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you had been holding, as you pushed open the door to Jin’s room.

The room was unlit and the light from the hallway threw long shadows on the opposite wall. You hadn’t been in there since that night, you realized as you closed the door behind you and carefully made your way across the room towards the bed, where Jin was lying on his back looking up at the ceiling.

Carefully taking a seat next to his figure, you were reminded of how he had been sprawled out on the bed sleeping the morning after when you had left the room. The memory left a faint smile on your lips, as you fiddled with your hands in your lap to keep yourself from reaching out for him.

Lifting your head to look at him, you found him already looking back at you. In the dark of the room, his eyes rested on your features and yours on his as you carried out a conversation though none of you uttered a single word.

I can’t talk about. I don’t even know why. I’m sorry, his eyes pleaded, making your heart soften.

You don’t have to, yours reassured him, as your hand fell into his giving it a comforting squeeze.

Lie with me?, he asked, as he gave your hand a barely existing tug, making you smile gently as you nodded and curled up next to him on the bed.

Feeling his arms settle around you and hearing the distraught sigh of contentment leaving his lips as he pulled you closer, strung your heartstrings even tighter than they had already been, and you felt a lump forming in your throat.

Goddammit, Y/n! What the hell is wrong with you, you scolded yourself mentally. Don’t tell me this is all it takes for you? You see him cry once and suddenly you’re back in his bed again?

Trying to distract yourself from your own head, you focused your energy on softly tracing patterns on Jin’s shirt, very careful not to get too close to his pants, as you were suddenly awkwardly aware of what had happened last time you were here.

This is ridiculous, you thought with an eye-roll.

You cuddled with all the others all the time. This was no different, you reminded yourself as you walked yourself through all the times you had cuddled with the others. Hell, Jungkook had even cupped your ass in his sleep once, and there was absolutely no awkwardness between the two of you.

And just as you had succeeded in calming down your mind, you heard a soft snore coming from the man next you. Lifting your head to look at his face, you found his features smoothed out in his sleep. Smiling at his peaceful state, you decided that leaving him to get some rest would probably be for the best, but as you tried to free yourself from his grasp, he stirred slightly in his sleep rolling onto his side and tightening his hold on you.

“Stay with me, flower” he whispered into the darkness, and though you had no idea if he was still sleeping or awake, you felt no need to argue with him, settling deeper against him and closing your own eyes.

// Part xi //

#one night stands and one shot chances #jin imagine #bangtan imagine #bangtan reaction #bts imagine #bts reaction #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fanfic #jin fluff #jin angst

96 notes · View notes

what-is-your-plan-today · 5 years ago

Text

Stark Spangled Banner Ch48: The Terrible Twos

Intro: It’s been four years since the Snap, and Jamie enters the terrible twos. The family take a little vacation.

Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut! (NSFW) No under 18s. Naughty Toddlers and Tony and Steve behaving worse than the kids…

Pairing:Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist

April 2022

By the 4th Anniversary of the Snap, it finally looked like society was moving on. There was still a lot to do, but some schools and Universities were fully functioning, TV shows and Movies were back in production, restaurants and shops seemed to have gotten back to some level of ‘normality’. Places weren’t as buzzing as they had been but it seemed like people were finally taking those baby steps forward, which was the mantra Steve continued to preach at his support groups.

If only it was that easy to follow your own advice.

Steve, and the rest of the Avengers for that matter, would be lying if they said Thanos wasn’t still at the back of their minds. But nothing short of a time machine was going to bring any of those stones back. They had to learn to live with what still felt like their failure. And for the most they did, their lives had moved on. Tony, Pepper, Steve and Katie had become parents, so they had something to focus on. Natasha, however, was all over the place, focussing even more with Rhodey on trying to track down Clint. He had given his vigilante alter-ego a name- Ronin-the word literally meaning “wave man” and taken to be an idiomatic expression for “vagrant” or “wandering man”, someone who is without a home- or so Katie’s research told them. ‘Ronin’, was still leaving trails of death and destruction all over the place and both Steve and Katie had tried to coax Natasha out of pursuing him too much. As usual she completely ignored them and had also point blank refused to attend any of the support groups. In the end Steve had stopped asking.

“Jamie, please come on.” Steve sighed.

“Nom!” he grinned and then in a flash launched himself forward.

“Oh, fuck.” Steve said, forgetting his language as he stepped back, catching the toddler in his arms, heart in his mouth. Jamie giggled as his dad’s strong arms caught him.

“Don’t do that!” Steve sighed, “Please.” he added weakly.

“Fuck.” Jamie repeated with a laugh and Steve groaned.

“No, we don’t say that.” “Why not?”

“Fankoo Daddy”

“You’re welcome, but that doesn’t mean every time you climb something you get one.” Steve looked at him sternly.

Jamie looked at him, his mouth full and Steve knew he didn’t care one iota about the utter horror he had just put his father through. A fact further emphasised when the tot raised his right hand and held his forefinger and middle finger to his eyes, moving them towards his dad.

“Yeah, I am watching you, pal.” Steve arched an eyebrow at him, mentally cursing Tony once again for teaching his son ridiculous habits. “You done?”

Jamie nodded “Another?” “Not a chance.” Steve snorted, lifting him down off the counter and herding him into the living room. He distracted his son successfully for an hour and a half or so watching Frozen, his current favourite Disney film whilst he checked over his notes for the support groups he was holding later on that afternoon. Then he gave Jamie his lunch, meals being the most painless part of his routine as the kid ate anything you put in front of him, and they set off to meet Katie at the tower.

Soraya, her secretary looked up smiling.

“Hi Mr Rogers, Hi Jamie!” she said, holding up her hand. Jamie leant over the desk in his father’s arms and gave her a hi-five.

“Hi Sowaya!” he beamed and she smiled back before she turned to Steve. “She’s in the office but you might wanna wait a few seconds before you go in.” Steve was about to ask why, when he heard his wife’s angry voice through the closed door and he grimaced. Someone was getting an absolute earful and he didn’t envy them one bit.

That someone, was Jack Thompson, Katie’s Finance Manager. As part of Stark Industries programme to help the older teenagers post the snap, Katie had given the go head for each major department to recruit interns to give them a spring start and a means to fund themselves. Only for the third day in a row now she had caught Jack ordering his intern to make coffees for the entire office. Not that it wasn’t part of an intern’s initiation, she understood that, but when she had drilled the girl a little more, it seems that was all she was doing, along with photocopying.

“That is not what the programme is about!” she blazed as she leant forward over her desk, Jack lounging in the chair at the other side. He raised an eyebrow at her and that made her bristle even more. “Sorry, I’m not sure what is amusing you about this situation.”

“Nothing, Mrs Rogers.” he shrugged back “I just think you’re overacting slightly.” “Oh do you?” she asked, her voice raising “Well here’s an overreaction for you, you get that girl some proper jobs and activities to work on or you’ll be out of here faster than my two year old can scale the fridge.” He frowned

“Which is fast” she clarified, realising that there were all sorts of things wrong with that analogy.

“Things were a lot different with your brother at the helm.” Jack looked at her. She frowned and crossed her arms.

“Well I’m not my brother. If you don’t like it, feel free to leave your resignation letter on my desk.”

Jack eyeballed her for a moment before he nodded “Understood, loud and clear.” “Good.” she said, standing up whilst he did the same. She smoothed down her white A-lined high wasted skirt and white blouse. Her black stilettoes clicked on the wooden flooring of her office and she opened the door and nodded out of it. Jack left, not even glancing around until a small voice rang out across the room.

“Momma shouted!” Jamie giggled gleefully. Jack stopped, looked at the boy, then to Steve who simply smiled at the the man before he stalked out of the room.

“Jerk.” Katie mumbled under her breath before she beamed at her boys “Hi!”

“Yuk!” Jamie pulled a face.

“So what had he done to earn himself the full wrath of my baby momma?” Steve jerked his head towards the door and Katie groaned.

“Just being awkward when it comes to the interns. I don’t think he’s going to last much longer.” “Good.” Soraya shot. “He’s a creep.”

Katie grinned. “What’s my diary like for the rest of the day?” she turned to the young woman.

“You’re clear now until four and then you have a conference call with a couple of potential authors for SIP.”

“Why don’t you do it from home?” Steve looked at her, “You were here at seven this morning.” Katie pondered before nodding. Placing Jamie on the floor she headed back into her office and grabbed her jacket and her bag, before linking her hand round her son’s.

“If anyone needs me tell them to email or call my mobile.”

Soraya nodded “See you tomorrow Mrs Rogers. Bye Captain, bye Jamie!”

“Bye bye!” Jamie waved as Katie led him to the elevator, Steve holding his other hand.

“You had lunch?” Steve looked at her. She shook her head.

“It’s been manic.”

“Good, because neither have I. Thought we could grab something before I head off to the group.”

She grinned and leaned up to give him a kiss. “Perfect.” “Lunch?” Jamie piped up. Steve looked down at him.

“Buddy, you ate an entire bowl of spaghetti at home.” “But. hungry.” he pouted and Katie looked at Steve.

“He gets that off you.” she smirked and Steve rolled his eyes.

“Who does he get climbing the fridge off?” He asked.

“Again?” she groaned.

“Yeah, had to bribe him down with a cookie.”

Katie snorted. “Well I don’t know about the climbing bit but he definitely gets the negotiation skills from me”

“It wasn’t negotiation.” Steve said, as the doors opened on the ground floor “It was out and out extortion.”

Katie laughed as they stepped out into the reception, heading to the front doors which opened automatically.

“Let’s go to the deli round the corner.” she suggested and Steve nodded, positioning himself on the outside of the sidewalk as always, Jamie on the inside as they slowed their pace to allow their son to walk the block or so round the corner.

“Momma?” he asked tugging on hand. “Yes baby?” “I haff tuna?”

“If you want tuna, yeah.” she smiled at him.

At that point Steve, who had been watching the two of them, turned and almost walked straight into another pedestrian.

“Oh, sorry Ma’am.” he nodded to her at the same time Jamie uttered.

“Oh fuck.” Katie stopped dead and turned to look at him, her voice growing stern. “James Anthony Samuel Rogers, what did you just say?”

He looked up at her as Steve groaned, crouching down in front of his son “I told you that was a bad word.” he chastised the two year old.

“Sowee Momma,Sowee daddy.” he said, looking down at his feet.

“Thank you for apologising.” Steve ruffled his hair as he stood up. “Don’t say it again.” “Okay.” “Where did he hear that?” Katie looked at Steve and he hesitated for a moment.

“Tony?” he shrugged, a sheepish smile crossing his face as he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

Katie narrowed her eyes “You’re still a terrible liar.”

******

June 2022

“Now don’t go mad Spangles…” Tony greeted Steve as he shut the car door and headed across the lawn area to the side of the lake house. Instantly Steve narrowed his eyes.

“What have you done?” he asked, following Tony down a well-trodden path to the back of the house where a small play tent was erected.

“Nothing.” Tony said, as Steve followed him round to the back of the house. “Well, nothing bad, just…”

“Pew pew!” Jamie grinned, making the noise at his dad. Steve took a deep breath and scowled at Tony.

“Really?”

“Hey look, it was this or the actual gauntlets so,” he said and then Steve really did give him a glare. Tony held his hands up. “I was in the garage tinkering and they saw them and wanted one of their own so...”

“Iron Man!” Jamie grinned up at his dad “Look Daddy, like Unca Nee!”

“And I suppose those just have to come back to my house with the pair of them tonight?” Steve narrowed his eyes at Tony. “You know, I can always refuse to babysit.”

“No you can’t” Tony smirked. “First off we had Jamie last night so you and Katie could have a night alone, and second off…” “Uncle Pangles!” Morgan threw herself at him, her arms wrapping around his legs “We can play tonight, I stay at yours!”

“…you can’t resist her Stark charm.” Tony smirked as Steve sighed, bending down to give his niece a kiss on the head.

“Well Dad,” Emmy sat back and looked at him, her brown eyes flashing with mischief, “sometimes you gotta fight fire with fire…”

“What you got in mind?” He looked at her.

“You’re good at art, right?” she said and Steve nodded. “Let’s put it to use.”

So the next morning, as soon as the hardware shop opened, Emmy and Steve were in there gathering supplies for the Great Rogers Revenge plan, sharing a victorious hi-five whilst they loaded the trunk of the car up with their supplies. Katie told them she didn’t want to know what they were planning and she meant it, steering clear of Steve’s man-cave/art studio for the rest of the morning, calling Steve back to the house at eleven ish for a coffee and a slice of banana bread when Natasha dropped in. The two women could hear the pair of them giggling as they approached and they walked into the kitchen she was greeted by the pair of them holding up their finished items.

“Oh my God!” Natasha spluttered. There was a slight pause, before Katie and Natasha cracked up laughing as Steve and Emmy held up their masterpieces. They had painted the insides of two small metal trash can lids to look like replicas of Steve’s shield. A year or so ago, Steve had bought Morgan a small, plastic Frisbee with his shield design on it, but this was something else.

“Cap!” Jamie shrieked as the sight of the items Steve and Emmy were holding.

“Wow!” Morgan looked up in awe “Uncle Pangles, is one mine?” “Sure is Kiddo.” Steve bent down and showed the two children how to grab the shield with their hands on the handles and once he was confident they had got it, they shot out of the back door and down onto the grass, Lucky leaping up from where he had been snoozing under a tree and heading inside out of the way.

“Just do me a favour and don’t show the kids how to throw them.” Katie sighed, watching as Jamie was busy holding his shield in front of him as Morgan aimed her faker repulsor beam clad hand at him.

Steve shook his head, grabbing a piece of cake. “No point, doesn’t work, they don’t have the same trajectory as my shield.”

“Yeah they kinda hover for a bit and then just fall over.” Emmy said, her mouth full of banana bread. “This is good mom.”

“Thanks Em” Katie smiled “Nat you want another piece?”

“No thanks.” she shook her head, “Ruin our lunch.” “Lunch?” Steve paused, the slice of cake halfway to his mouth.

“I told you last night.” Katie rolled her eyes “Me and Nat are off for lunch and shopping.”

“You wanna come Em?” Nat asked.

“Oh no.” She shook her head, “I wanna be here when Tony picks these two up.”

She fist bumped Steve and Katie shook her head at the pair of them.

“Well, I do not. Gimme two mins Nat and I’ll grab my shoes.” An hour or so later, Natasha and Katie were sat in a small Tapas Bar not far from Times square. They ordered their food and made small talk for half an hour, Nat filling Katie in on her latest attempts to find Barton (all failed so far) and the fact that Bruce was emailing her regularly, keeping in contact from the Gamma Lab in Seoul. She told Katie what Carol and the rest of the gang were up to, and although Katie knew from Rhodey, she let her friend talk and nodded, chipping in where she thought appropriate. It had been a while since she had seen the woman, who had at one point been a staple part of their Sunday evening dinners, but for some reason, over the last three months had stopped coming. Katie leaned back to shrewdly eye the woman in front of her.

“So, Steve and I are taking the kids away in a month or so, why don’t you come with us?” she asked. Nat pondered for a while before she shook her head.

“I can’t leave the compound.”

“Why not?” “If something goes wrong, I need to be there.” “Nat,” Katie sighed, “it isn’t your responsibility. The Avengers, we’re not…” Natasha cut her off, “Don’t, please” she shook her head “It’s my job. If I can help in even the smallest of ways..” Katie bit her lip before she reached over for her glass of water. She understood that in all fairness, Steve had gone through his own phase of feeling useless not long after the snap but had found his niche for sure with the support groups. If this was how Nat was dealing with it then…

“Anyway, enough about that.” Nat changed the subject. “Tell me more about the delightful language my God-Son has been learning.” Katie groaned “ I told you about the whole, oh Fuck thing a few months back?” “Yeah?” “So, a few nights ago we’re sat at the table and he suddenly shouts ‘Daddy, fuck.’ So, of course Steve tells him off. But he doesn’t stop. ‘Momma, fuck, Emmy, fuck…’. Steve’s getting more and more exasperated, trying to tell him to stop, and wasn’t until he points to the table and shouts ‘need fuck’ we realised he wanted a fork for his pasta and not the spoon we had given him.” Katie grinned as Natasha laughed. “Honestly Nat, I thought Steve was gonna have a heart attack.”

“Yeah he doesn’t like that kinda language.” Natasha grinned biting into a breadstick.

“I wouldn’t mind but he taught Jamie that word, not intentionally of course.” Katie said “And then there was the jackass incident.”

“What?”

“Oh, someone pulled out in front of me at a junction. I forgot he was in the car so I slammed on the horn and flipped him off shouting ‘jackass’ out the window” she took another drink of her water “Didn’t think anything of it until we were leaving Tony’s later that afternoon. I wound the back windows down in the car so Jamie could wave. Only he doesn’t wave, he raises his middle finger and calls Tony a jackass”

Natasha laughed “well, he’s not wrong.”

“Funnily enough that’s what Steve said.” Katie grinned. “Mind you, what he did at the supermarket the other day tops it all.” she took a bite of her garlic mushrooms. “He’s sat in the trolley and loud as you like shouts ‘I got a woody in my pants’. The woman in the aisle next to us just looks at us and Steve starts trying to explain that he was wearing Toy Story underpants, I mean…”

Natasha spluttered out her calamari, choking slightly as she started to laugh, Katie grinned before she too chuckled. It was funny now she thought about it, to be honest Katie had found it funny at the time, Steve was the one that had flushed bright red. At that point her phone began to ring and she fished it out of her bag.

“Uh oh.” She winced and looked at Nat

“Stark?”

She nodded “Hi Tone…” “Oh don’t hi Tone me…” his voice hit her ears, “Your husband is a grade A…”

“I hope you don’t have Morgan in the car whilst you’re being so angry.” Katie jokingly chastised her brother

“A trash can lid. A god-damned trashcan lid.” “Yeah well you send our kid home with some of your shit, we’re gonna repay the favour, now if you don’t mind...”

She cut the call and saw that she had a message from Steve.

Game, set and match to Spangles ;-)

She snorted.

“Are they ever gonna stop this tit for tat with the kids?” Natasha asked.

******

August 2022

“Did Em tell you about the bloke at the harbour?” Steve asked, looking at Katie. The two of them were sat on the veranda of the villa on Tony’s Island. It was the last night of their two week vacation and the family had spent the time playing in the pool, on the beach- Emmy and Jamie scouring the sand for shells and other mementoes to bring home. Jamie had been particularly taken with watching the fishing boats as they left and returned from the small harbour, Steve often taking him and Emmy down to watch when they brought back their catches of the day, the small boy engaging as enthusiastically and as well he could with his 2-year-old’s vocabulary and the locals had been nothing but gracious and kind back to him and his older sibling. Katie suspected it was for that reason that they had returned earlier that night with a selection of seafood which Katie had enjoyed preparing for them, along with numerous salads, potatoes and some local fruits for afters. The four had gorged themselves and the kids, after no protest at all due to them being exhausted were tucked up in bed leaving the married couple to take in their last night alone.

“No?” Katie looked at Steve.

“He kept asking me how much I wanted for her.” Steve smirked and Katie laughed “She thought it was hilarious too, until I offered to sell her for three lobsters and a couple of skate.”

“You know,” he waved the hand that was clutching his beer “Boys and…whatever.” Katie snorted. “What you gonna do when she does finally bring a boy back to meet us?” she asked, swinging her bare legs up and placing her feet in his lap.

“Be waiting with a shot gun” he mumbled, his spare hand dropping to her smooth skin, fingers gently tracing up and down her calf.

“That’s a dramatic shovel talk.” Katie raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh I won’t talk” Steve grinned “Just hold it across my lap and look at him” “You’re terrible.” she sniggered as his hand gently continued its ministrations on her leg.

He chuckled and Katie glanced out over the bay, sighing slightly It had been a great few weeks, just one person really missing.

“I wish Nat would have come.”

“She’s worrying me” Steve sighed.

“I know.” Katie nodded “But there’s not much we can do other than be there for her.”

As Katie drank him in she noticed that over the years, whilst he had aged slightly, he hadn’t changed nearly as much as she had. A few more lines here and there but he still looked pretty much the same as ten years ago, bar his hair. All the studies, backed up by Banner’s research, estimated that Steve would age at a rate approximately fifteen to twenty years younger than the average person. At some points this worried her, as she knew that in fifteen years or so he would only look to be in his late thirties when they would both be realistically (going off the years spent living and not buried in ice…) midway through their fifties, but that was something she’d known before she had married him. And she supposed that as long as he didn’t care how old she looked it didn’t matter…

“Want a photo or summi’k” Steve asked, his eyes on his wife, as she was simply looking at him, clearly contemplating something. She smiled at the way his Brooklyn drawl dripped off his voice as it always did when he was relaxed. He cocked his head slightly to one side, smiling gently at her as his beer bottle rest against his leg. Deciding she wanted distracting from the ridiculous worry that had sprung up on her she grinned and moved her feet before she stood up. Taking the bottle off him she placed it on the table and settled on his lap as he smirked up at her.

“Summik sounds good.” She muttered kissing him hard. Their tongues began their usual dance until he pulled back and looked at her, sweeping her hair off her face. Simply put his wife was stunning. Her freckles which always became more pronounced in the sun spread across her nose and her cheeks, giving her an even more youthful look than normal. Her hair was now a few inches above her waist, having grown down from the shoulder length cut she had sported whilst they’d been on the run and was falling over her face in a mass of beach tangled curls, which he adored. Her figure, Jesus, he could look at her all day… curves across her hips, breasts…he’d been exceptionally pleased that despite her confidence issues that her body wasn’t what it used to be she’d been wearing a two-piece swimsuit, even if it was one that covered her midriff. He knew better now that to try and argue that he didn’t give a damned about the fact her stomach was slightly less flat than it used to be, or her hips were wider…he simply let her get on with dressing how she felt comfortable and lavished affection and praise on her every chance he got, because frankly, there wasn’t a think about his wife he didn’t adore. He questioned every, single day how he had gotten so goddamned lucky and it had been him she’d chosen to spend the rest of her life with.

“What’s wrong?” she frowned, noticing the contemplative look in his eyes.

“Nothing at all, baby.” he said, reaching down and pulling off the crochet dress she was wearing over her swim suit top and denim shorts “Just thinking I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you look so beautiful.” She grinned as his fingers moved to undo the string that held her top around her neck, causing it to fall forward leading her bare from the waist up. He simply admired her for a moment as her hands wound into his hair and she gave a soft tug, causing his head to tilt upwards to look at her. “Not even when we got married?”

“Hmmm.” he said, her lips hovering near his as she leant down, his hands creeping up her side “Maybe, but you weren’t my baby momma then.”

She grinned, she loved it when he called her that. Gently kissing him she pulled back and looked at him.

“I’ve not changed that much have I?” she teased as she pushed down on his crotch and he groaned.

“Nope,” he muttered before kissing her hard, grinding his hips up against hers.

“Take me to bed Captain.” she murmured into his mouth, at him with suggestive eyes which peered from underneath heavy lids.

“Yes ma’am” he grinned, and in a swoop he’d picked her up and carried her inside. ****

November 2022

“Did he go down alright?”

Steve dropped onto the couch, picking up one of the super strength beers Thor had send him as part of a pre- Christmas testing package, lifting his arm up so Katie could settle into him.

“Very well, actually,” he narrowed his eyes taking a pull of his beer. “Almost suspiciously so.”

Katie chuckled as she replaced her glass and dropped her head to Steve’s shoulder as she pressed play on the remote. The two of them simply stayed like that, the odd movement and hands stroking shoulders, thighs or knees as usual, comfortable in their own little world. They were about thirty minutes into the film when, Katie felt Steve’s head move off the top of hers and she glanced at him and saw the beginnings of a smile forming on his face.

“What?”

He looked down at her. “You know,” he said, a light in his eyes that she knew all too well, “It’s Friday, Emmy is out, Jamie seems to have gone down without a fuss…” Steve trailed off and raised an eyebrow at his wife. She grinned too, mirroring his expression.

“I like where this is going,” she smirked and within seconds, her legs had been pulled from underneath her drawing a giggle from her lips as she lay flat on the sofa, Steve hovering over her. Katie wrapped her arms around his neck as their lips met, and she was just beginning to thread her fingers through his hair when they both heard a shout.

“Heeeeeyyyyy!”

Steve dropped his head and groaned “I’ll go.”

He placed one last kiss on her lips before he stood up off the couch and headed into the hall way.

“You’re supposed to be in bed,” he said as he headed up the stairs, seeing Jamie stood in his doorway at the baby gate.

“No sleep.” Jamie’s response was a whine.

“Not an option pal” Steve shook his head, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Can’t sleep.” Jamie tried again, and Steve had to bite back the smile that was about to cross his face. His son had certainly inherited his, and his wife’s for that matter, tenacity.

“Did you even try?”

There was a pause and Jamie furiously nodded his head in a blatant lie.

“Sure you did.” Steve rolled his eyes “Well what do you think would help you sleep?”

“Story, daddy!”

At those words a smile spread across Steve’s face. Over the last six months, Jamie had taken a real interest in the tales he told him, so much so that they had swapped night time readings of chapters from books for Steve’s real life stories, most of them being pulled straight from the streets of Brooklyn or Manhattan during Steve’s own childhood or adulthood pre-serum.

“One more.” Steve caved and Jamie shrieked with delight. “But!” he continued in a warning tone, “You have to be quiet.”

Jamie stilled immediately and clapped his little hands over his mouth before he turned and ran, diving back on his bed. Steve chuckled and made his into Jamie’s room, as the two year old climbed under his Iron Man Duvet cover (Thank you Tony for that one…) and peered up at Steve as he settled down next to him, his son setting under his arm, snuggling into the crook of his arm against his chest.

“Did I ever tell you about the time that I went to the theatre and-”

Katie didn’t wait for Steve to come back down, she knew full well that he would have been coerced into one more story. Their son had his dad wrapped around his little finger, and Steve at times found it simply impossible to say no. She glanced up at the clock, noting that it was almost nine… they could watch the film in bed. She turned the TV and lights off, she took the empty glass and bottle into the kitchen, let Lucky out for a pee whilst she made sure all the doors were locked before letting the now slightly older and slower dog back in.

“You staying here tonight Luck?” she asked, and the dog yawned, stretching as he rolled onto his back in the dog basket which was placed in the hallway under the stairs. “Take that as a yes then…” she scratched behind his ears before standing up and creeping up the stairs to the door of her son’s room, which was open enough for me to peek through. She loved Steve’s stories almost as much as Jamie did, if not for the same reasons. Jamie loved their action and adventure, often joining in with his own loud whoops and laughs, but Katie simply loved listening to Steve’s voice as he narrated. His tone would change from low and dramatic to loud and comical, and Katie found it simply adorable. A pure, unadulterated moment of love between father and son that made her heart swell every single time she watched or overheard.

“And then, all of a sudden this man appeared, in the alley way. And I didn’t have anything to protect myself with. So I picked up a trash can lid, and held it…right here, like a shield…” Steve said, drawing his arm across his chest. “Like Cap?” Jamie said, thrusting his Captain America bear at his dad.

“Just like Cap, yeah buddy…” Katie smiled to herself, Jamie was still too young to really understand about their history with the Avengers. He knew about who the Avengers were, well what he could grasp as a two year old thanks mainly to Tony and Natasha, but he had no idea about his dad’s alter ego. And for now, it wasn’t important, they were just a normal family and long may it stay like that. Katie watched as Steve continued to talk as he sat up on Jamie’s bed, his back against the headboard as his mini-me, led besides him, looking up at his father, eyes wide and full of adoration. These were the moments that brought out all of Steve’s best characteristics, and Katie simply loved him all the more for it. Smiling to herself she headed into their bedroom and tossed her clothes aside before she stepped into the shower in their en-suite.

Steve could read his son’s body language like a book, and about ten minutes after his super hearing heard Katie leaving where she had been stood outside the room listening, he could feel him starting to droop slightly, one small hand was fisted into Steve’s white t-shirt, the other was in front of his small face, thumb in his mouth as his index finger gently rubbed against that Stark nose. A few moments later he glanced down and in the dim glow of the dinosaur night light he saw his son was fast asleep. Gently, he moved and stepped off the bed, tucking the duvet up under Jamie’s chin before he stooped, dropping a kiss onto his head, his hand gently caressing the shock of blonde hair. With a last look back he closed the door to, leaving it open just a chink, and headed into their room.

Katie was just emerging from the en-suite wearing a bathrobe, long hair piled up on her head.

“He has you wrapped around his finger.” she grinned, sliding her hands up her husband’s chest.

“Oh, and you don’t?” he muttered, hands connecting at the bottom of her spine.

“You gonna read me a bed time story then, Captain?”

“I got a better way of getting you to sleep.” he murmured, dropping his lips to hers, and she grinned as he backed her towards the bed, “there’s only one problem.” “Oh yeah?” she asked, as his arms pulled her closer, his lips trailed down her neck, mopping up the speckles of water from the shower that remained.

“Yeah, this is in the way.”

He softly kissed at that spot beneath her ear, his hand dropping to the belt of her robe. She grinned as he pulled at the tie and gently shrugged the robe off Katie’s shoulders, allowing it to drop to the floor as his lips claimed hers again. He wrapped an arm round her back, tugging her onto her toes so he could take a nipple in his mouth and she let out a groan as she looked downwards, moving her hands to undo the chords on his sweat pants.

“Off.” she muttered, pulling at the bottom of his t-shirt. He released her temporarily so she could slide it up, before he pivoted and dropped them both onto the bed, trapping her in between his hands and legs.

A familiar warmth exploded along her lower abdomen as he kissed her, one hand on the side of her face, the other sliding to her hip and across her stomach, making its way slowly between her legs. She arched her back and groaned as he slipped two fingers inside her, feeling him smirk against her neck.

“Fucking drenched aren’t you, sweetheart?”

She let out another groan at his words, “Only for you.” A low growl rolled in the back of his throat as he slammed his mouth onto hers, shucking off his sweats as he began to kiss her chest, then stomach, before going down her legs. He set his mouth to her, lapping at her, her sweet, salty tang so familiar yet so delectable, and as he worked her, it was all she could do to mewl softly, and grip one hand in his hair as she writhed at his touch. His tongue flicked strongly and he sucked at her gently, before upping the pace as she cried out gently, trying so hard to keep the noise down. Steve continued to tease and nibble and when he took her swollen clit between his lips again Katie let out a silent scream as her orgasm hit her hard, causing her knees to turn inwards, squeezing around his head, involuntarily. She fell back against the pillows with a sigh of satisfaction and looked down as Steve crawled back up her body, leaning forward, placing his hands on either side of her head.

“God you’re gorgeous.” he said, making her grin before he crashed his lips onto hers, the sudden action drawing a small grunt from her mouth. She reached down taking him in her hand and he took in a sharp breath as he pulled away from her mouth, sliding his fingers down her legs. He moved her legs apart and pushed into her with a low sigh of satisfaction leaving both their lips before he began to move, burying his face into her neck, nipping at the spot under her ear gently. She keened underneath him as he grew more urgent with his thrusts, her eyes locking onto his as he gripped her hands at either side of her head, leaning back down to kiss her fervently. He was hard, fast, desperate for hris release and she met each of his thrusts fervently with her own hips happy to give herself to him.

“So good,” He praised in a low voice, dragging his face against her hair before he looked at her. “I’m close, tell me you are…”

Katie responded with a moan, “Stevie.” and then her legs shook and she came again, closing her eyes as she tightened around him, burying her face into his neck to stifle her noises as the spasms came involuntarily around him again and again.

“Oh, fuck, Doll.” he stuttered, biting his lower lip as his eyes fluttered closed before his rhythm stilled and he let out a soft groan as he came, the utter bliss consuming him fully. He fell forward, head dropping into the hollow of his wife’s neck to catch his breath, his body slumped on top of hers, his familiar weight pressed her into the mattress as they both came down from their high. Katie ran her fingers through his hair, pressing soft kisses along his shoulder as her nails gently scratched at his scalp, causing Steve to hum out a soft sigh of contentment as he lay still, enjoying her touch.

“Stevie?” she muttered.

“Yeah?” “How long do you think we have before Jamie realises he can climb the baby gates now?”

“I’m amazed he hasn’t already.” Steve leaned up on his elbows to look down at his wife “Why?”

“Because I think we might need to invest in a lock for our door.” she grinned “For when you’re reading your baby momma her bedtime story.”