#list of accomplishments : making god pout. check !
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cheeriecherrymain · 2 years ago
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Cherry!!I love your writing so much,i am positively stoked to see your requests are open!If you feel like it,how about headcanons about Viktor's first time cuddling with his s/o?Do you think they might be touchstarved together or perhaps not?
Viktor is absolutely touch starved, I just wanted to write him being a supportive bf who also pouts a little when he doesn't get his snuggles (but he also doesn't know how to ask for them)
---
Viktor x Reader
-Your relationship is so new at this point. You’ve probably only been together for a couple weeks. You were friends long before that, always enjoying each other’s company and keeping good conversation.
-But neither of you had really ever…touched one another. Not in any lengthy amount, at least. Yes, you’d sometimes rest a hand on each other’s shoulder, or you’d tap him on the arm to get his attention, or he’d pinch your cheek when you were being snarky.
-But that’s different. That’s casual touching, that’s just stuff that most people do! Cuddling is…
-It’s intimate, in a sense.
-At least in your mind.
-You’ve never really been shown affection through physical touch at any point in your life. You would sometimes be verbally praised for your accomplishments, occasionally patted on the head, but…god, how long has it been since you’d so much as gotten a hug?
-Not that long, surprisingly, but only because Jayce had been excited a couple months ago and had squeezed you and spun you around before you’d gotten the chance to squawk at him.
-But before then?
-You genuinely couldn’t remember the last time someone had held you. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d trusted someone enough to hold you.
-You’ve never been in a romantic relationship before Viktor. You had a vague idea of what to expect, from reading your books and from seeing other couples milling around the city. But it was only in theory: you had no practiced skills when it came to being in love.
-And things were…progressing.
-Neither you nor Viktor were in any particular hurry to pass desired milestones as a couple. He had outright told you that he was quite comfortable taking things slowly, to build a life together and really get to know one another anew. And you were grateful for that.
-But lately he’d been waxing poetic about his ‘boring evenings studying in bed, alone’. He’d been greeting you with a kiss on the cheek every time you met up to walk to class. He’d been knitting his fingers around yours while you wandered the hallways of the academy, and while you sat together during lunch.
-He’d been getting closer, and you knew that he was dropping hints.
-And then, last night?
-Last night, he’d suggested you come over to study with him for your one shared class. And maybe some of your other classes, too, he’d said. His eyes had been bright with hope, widened with anxiety, as if he was daring to trust you despite the constant worry that you’d reject him.
-You couldn’t possibly say no to him. You cared about him too much, and you…didn’t have it in you to explain how starved for affection you really were.
-The problem now is that you’re tucked up in Viktor’s dorm, surrounded by textbooks and papers and various stickynotes and writing utensils. You’re trying your best to sort out your assignments and make a list of what still needs to be done - you’re trying to study, like you’d been asked over to do!
-And Viktor?
-Viktor is reclined on his bed, lazily reading through some novel that he’d checked out of the library.
-Looking somewhat perturbed.
-You really want to think that his expression is because of the book he’s going through, that maybe there’s some story plot or character he’s disappointed with, but…you know that’s not it. You know he was hoping for something you’re not giving him.
-You’re quite certain he wasn’t hoping for sex - you know him well enough to know that that’s a conversation he’d want to have before either of you initiated anything.
-But you know he had been hoping for something.
-The lamp that illuminates the room flickers sharply for a second, drawing your attention away from your work for a brief moment. And then, over the loud patter of rain on the bedroom window, thunder crashes from outside, making you jump.
-You’re thankful to be tucked up inside during such crummy weather, even moreso to have your boyfriend nearby. You’d never particularly been a fan of storms - the noise had frightened you terribly as a child, and no matter how many times you’d begged your parents, they’d never let you sneak into the safety of their bed.
- “Hopefully this doesn’t continue into tomorrow,” you sigh, watching the rain hit the glass. “It would be kind of miserable to have to walk all the way to our lecture during a thunderstorm.”
-Viktor barely even looks up from his book.
- “We have umbrellas,” he points out. “Though…I’m inclined to agree with you. With the wind, I wouldn’t be surprised if they flipped inside out.”
-You bit back a smile at the mental image of either one of you having to fight with an inanimate object, soaked to the bone and looking akin to a wet cat. You open your mouth to reply to him with some kind of joke or quip, taking in a breath…
-Only for the power to suddenly cut out, and a startled squeak to escape past your lips.
-In half a second flat, you’ve tossed your papers onto the floor, undoubtedly leaving a mess for later, but you don’t care. Your memories are too loud in the forefront of your mind, the primal fear from your childhood washing over you as you all but jump into Viktor’s bed and paste yourself to his side.
- “I’m sorry,” you whisper, burying your face into his shirt. Thunder rumbles again.
-He’s tense for a couple of seconds, moving around a little bit before you hear the swish of paper being folded, and the dull thunk of his book dropping to the floor. All at once, he shifts onto his side and wraps his arms around you, pulling you tightly against his warm body.
- “You’re shaking…” he murmurs, his breath tickling your forehead. But you only mush your face into him even further.
-You’re not sure how long you stay like that, encircled in his embrace, your fingers knit tightly into the fabric of his shirt. Minutes, maybe hours? You can’t tell without the ticking of the clock.
-But slowly, oh so slowly, the tension eases out of your body. Slowly, as he draws little patterns on your back with his fingernails, you relax. Your breathing slows, and the rapid thrum of your heart returns to its usual pace. The rain becomes a background noise, lulling you into a trance where you lay.
- “It…has been a long time since someone has touched you like this, hasn’t it,” he wonders, though it’s less of a question and more of an observation.
-You sigh deeply, most of your stress finally dissipated, and nod. “Since I was a kid,” you admit sadly, “And even then, my parents never really hugged me for any length of time. They wanted me to be able to sort out my own emotions when I grew up, but…I dunno. I was still a scared child. And now I’m a sad adult.”
-He presses his lips to your forehead, then, easily finding you despite the complete darkness in which you lay entangled.
- “You don’t have to be sad like that anymore,” he promises, kissing a trail down your temple, over your cheek. “Not if you don’t want to. You can always come here, if you ever need someone. Somewhere quiet, somewhere safe…”
-You blink away the tears budding in your eyes, as his lips meet your own in a sweet, chaste kiss, and then several more.
-Now, laying here with him, you’re not sure what you were ever worried about.
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sodasback · 3 years ago
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Dresses with Pockets - For You Series
JJ Maybank x Allie Routledge (John B’s Younger Sister)
Allie was standing in the hallway of the school auditorium. Everyone was inside watching the senior awards ceremony, but the younger Routledge needed to take a breath. The pressure of her future was getting heavier and heavier with every scholarship presentation and thank you speech and it was all of a sudden taking the air out of her lungs.
JJ having a reckless sense of optimism made a bad habit of being late to things, so he was walking through the double doors into the auditorium hallway with flowers in hand (albeit, they were a cheap bouquet from the grocery store and a little wilted because they were a couple days old and even cheaper that way, but still).
He stopped in his tracks as he saw Allie. She was smoothing her sweaty hands down the dress Sarah helped her pick out for the occasion.  
JJ couldn’t hold back the first thought that entered his mind, “Woah.”
Allie turned to see him and instantly fell more relaxed as she broke into a smile. Even though they had pretty much been avoiding each other like the plague after the almost kiss in her room after the party, in this moment, she was just relieved to see her calming and charming JJ there while she was low-key freaking out.
“You... look.. reaalllyy pretty.” JJ said slowly as he drank in her appearance.
Allie smiled and blushed, but then looked at him skeptically.
“Are you messing with me?” She asked.
“What?” JJ let out a little laugh, “Why would you think I’m messing with you?”
��Umm because you always do. And if you really thought I looked good, you’d just blurt out that I look hot. Or you usually just check me out, thinking I don’t notice and then you act moody all night when other guys look at me.”
“I never do that.” JJ said confidently.
“Mhmm, sure ya don’t.” Allie nodded reassuringly.
“And you don’t look hot. You’re drop-dead gorgeous.” JJ told her in a way that made her never want to doubt herself again. She blushed and had to blink away the tiny tears that threatened to spill out from the warm and fuzzy feelings she was getting.
“Are those for me?” she nodded to the flowers in his hand.
“No, actually they’re for John B.” JJ said convincingly, “You should know Allison, these senior ceremonies and shit are mostly for the parents of the graduates, so I figured I’d get him flowers. ....yes, dork they’re for you.” He said, handing them to Allie and watching the smile grow on her face as she closed her eyes and buried her nose in them.
“They’re beautiful. Thanks J.” She said smiling and stepping forward to wrap her arms around his waist. He wrapped around her shoulders, he let out a relieved exhale in the embrace.
But then they both turned their heads and let go of each other when a teacher stuck her head out, “Allison, you’re next!”
-
After they described the alumni scholarship Allison had received from the high school they announced her name. JJ, John B. and Pope (who was back home from college for a couple days) stood and clapped and cheered and whooped and caused a whole scene as Allie stood and walked to the podium to collect the certificate. She looked at the 3 boys from the stage with a look pleading them to sit down and stop carrying on. They looked around, pretending to be embarrassed and mumbling sarcastic ‘sorry’s’ and one last little “whoop” from JJ before they sat back down and Allie shook her head at her embarrassing family.
The announcer then went on to list Allison’s accolades and accomplishments that led to her being chosen for the biggest alumni scholarship the high school offered. Later on, one of the parents was hosting a reception/after party at their house and all the seniors and their families were invited.
While there, John B. and JJ found themselves sipping beers and looking fondly at Allie across the yard. They both laughed as they watched Allie show off to her girlfriends that her dress had pockets.
“Girls always love when their dress has pockets huh?”
John B laughed in agreement, “Yeah dude, she won’t shut up about them. I’m glad Sarah was able to help her with a new dress for all these ceremonies and graduation and stuff; it looks good on her.”
“Are you kidding? She’s frickin stunning.” JJ couldn’t stop himself from admitting. John B. was quiet for a second. He thought something was changing between his best friend and his sister lately and he just wanted to make sure him and JJ were on the same page.
“Hey J?” He asked turning to look at the blonde who was still admiring the younger Routledge laughing with her friends.
“Yeah?”
“You know Allie’s getting ready to graduate right? And she’s hasn’t decided for sure what school she’s going to yet. But it’s looking like Berkeley.”
JJ was a little confused by his friend’s tone, “Yeah, I was there when we were all talking about it the other day.”
“Did you know she’s been talking about not going to college at all?” John B asked.
“I mean, yeah, a few weeks ago she talked about like saying fuck it and doing something else, but she’s just stressed dude.” JJ thought maybe John B. just needed some reassurance.
“Yeah, well she’s been saying it more lately and talking about maybe staying here to figure things out too. But J, I don’t want her to get stuck here like we are. I want her to go to Berkeley and get the opportunity to have more ... better.”
“Yeah, man. I do too.” JJ agreed, still hesitant about where this conversation was going.
“And I don’t want anything ...or anyone to tempt her into not going to Berkeley, ....whether they mean to or not.” John B said slowly. JJ physically turned to look at him now.
“Bro what are you saying?” JJ asked.
“You know you can’t date her right?” John B finally said.
“Where the fuck did that come from?!”
“I see the way you guys are with each other, J! But you can’t. If you date her, you’re just gonna confuse her and pull her into your Peter Pan fantasy of running away to Yucatan or some shit and then break her heart when the next hot touron comes along.”
JJ’s face contorted into from confusion to anger as he let out a humorless laugh, “Wow JB, is that what you really think of me? You really think I’d do that to her? To you?!”
“Okay, calm down. It came out harsher than I meant it. But I’m just saying I know we’ve all joked about you and Allie before, but it just can’t happen okay?”
“Yeah, I heard you John B.” He stated finishing his beer and starting to turn away.
“JJ wait” John B sighed, knowing he fucked up.
“Tell Allie I said congrats.” He said as he kept walking. Allie noticed JJ leaving and ran over to him.
“Hey loser! You ditching this party without taking me with you?” She flirted, not registering his body language.
He chuckled disingenuously, “Yeah, it’s uhhh, time for me to go.”
Allie looked at him with a confused smile, “What? What do you mean?”
“I need to go home Allie.” JJ said.
“Okay, yeah let’s go back, I’m over this party anyway. Where’s John B.?”
“No Allie. Not the chateau. I need to go to my house for a little bit.”
Allie’s face dropped. “What? No, you don’t J. Wait until he leaves for that fishing trip this weekend. Don’t go back tonight.” Allie was practically begging him.
“It’s fine Allie, I need some space to think about stuff.” JJ said with finality before nodding back to the party, “Go have fun and celebrate your scholarship big shot.”
“Think about what? JJ-” Allie started, but JJ interrupted her.
“Hey Allie? I’m really proud of you.” JJ smiled softly and Allie just looked at him pouting at this whole interaction as JJ turned and left.
Allie could only think of one thing that could have possibly happened between JJ cheering for her on stage and being happy to now “needing some space to think” and going home for the first time in months when his dad was for sure there.
“What the fuck did you to him?!” Allie came storming over to  John B, who instantly grabbed his sister by the shoulders and ushered her outside to the front yard away from the house, knowing she was gonna cause a scene. “What the fuck John?!” She brushed his hands off of her waiting for him to explain.
“Come on, let’s go home.”
“Not before you tell me what happened between you and JJ to make him want to go back to his dad’s house tonight!”
“Fuck!” John B closed his eyes and cursed.
“Whatever happened, you need to find him and fix it right now. If JJ comes back with bruises, it’s your fucking fault!” Allie yelled, before getting in the twinkie and driving away, leaving John B with his hands on his head in the driveway.
“Fuck!” he yelled again. Before jogging in the direction of JJ’s house.
-
While walking home, JJ did a lot of thinking. He knew Allie had quite a crush on him and he knew that he had a lot of influence on her. Most just didn’t know how smitten he was with her or how much he admired her. Regardless, he wanted the same things John B. wanted. He wanted Allie to go off to college and get that experience and he’d be damned, if he was the thing to hold her back or sway her in any way. As harsh as John B had been, he knew he was just watching out for the girl they both just wanted to protect.
So instead of going to his house, JJ went home to the Chateau, knowing he was just going to ignore all the feelings he had for Allison Routledge. JJ had been sitting on the couch, alone in the Chateau for a while. He vaguely wondered where the 2 Routledge siblings had gone, since the Twinkie was in the driveway.
All of a sudden, John B came bursting through the door.
“Fuck, Allie! He’s not home! I couldn’t find him! I’m gonna go drive-”
“Right here dude.” JJ said standing up from the couch.
“Oh thank god!” John B practically tackled JJ in a huge.
“Jeez man”
“I’m so sorry dude. I was out of line. I know you’d never hurt her or me I just- I want her to- I just-”
“Relax bro.” JJ chuckled as the pulled away to look at each other, “I know. I want the same things you want. I’m not trying to date Allie okay? She’s like my little sister too. I promise.”
“Alright, thanks man. And please please no matter how much I piss you off, please don’t go back to your dads if you don’t have to. It doesn’t matter what we do or say, this is your home, got it?”
“I know.” Is all JJ said and they hugged one more time.
Taglist: @abbyj1822 @october-cameron @moonrisebeach @hernameisnoell @moniamaybank @railmerafe @phantompogues @jeyramarie @gabiatthedisco @baby-cakes-98 @lemur46 @lexieee304 @jjpogueprincess @imjustanothernerd
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scribble-blog · 5 years ago
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Soulmate AU part 3!!
First • Previous • Here • Next
Side note, I’m a grandma in a 22 year old body who doesn’t understand technology. If somebody can teach me how to get readmores to work on tumblr mobile, and possibly how to start linking the posts together, I’d appreciate it!
Also, the taglist is now full! Though if people want, I could try doing a supplemental taglist? Either in a reblogged or in a separate post to notify you? Let me know in the replies!
Damian Wayne, as it turns out, is almost very certainly the son of Bruce Wayne, who sponsored their entire trip to Gotham. There are only two official pictures of him that are clear enough to truly check against, but Marinette sees the eyes and she nods. “That’s him.”
Trixx, Pollen, Kaalki, and Plagg are scattered about the bed, napping and lounging. Adrien also lounges, catlike and crosswise with the bed, entirely over the pillows at their back. Chloé holds the laptop that Marinette is hovering over, even from her seated position with her much smaller stature.
“It would be you,” Chloé snorts. “Oh, let’s just traipse over to America for a quick class visit! Oops, my soulmate is the incredibly handsome son of the incredibly wealthy man who invited us here!”
“Still more believable than you, Miss ‘My soulmate and I have literally been standing two feet from each other for weeks because not only do we have the exact same friends, but we’re part of the same superhero group and never realized until Ladybug allowed us to learn each other’s secret identities.’” Adrien doesn’t move as he calls her out, lazily curled into the warmth of his two friends and the pillows cocooning him.
“I don’t think any of us can speak,” Marinette groans. “I’m living a cheap rom com, Chloé’s got all the plot elements of a high budget Shakespearian drama, and Mr. ‘Didn’t know I wasn’t straight until my soulmate mark was a guys name” is straight out of a b movie comedy.”
“At least I got my act together pretty quickly once it occurred to me that I could like guys too,” Adrien points out. “And now Jon and I talk all the time, and he even comes to Paris sometimes to see me, or we’ll meet up for my occasional business trips in America. Which reminds me,” he pulled out his phone, sending off a quick text, “he wants to come meet you guys. Next week, while we’re all actually on the same continent.”
“Kudos to you for shaking off whatever Gabe tried to stuff your head full of,” Chloé says. “Took me ages to admit that I was gay, and that was even WITH my soulmark and both Marinette and Ladybug constantly in front of me.”
“Feeling pretty objectified,” Marinette protests.
“Oh shut it, I know for a fact that you’ve basically been the gay awakening crush of every not straight girl in our class. And several outside of it. And that’s not even counting all the dudes that fall in love with you.”
“I still object,” Marinette pouts at Chloé.
“Objection overruled.” Adrien sits up. “Marinette. You’re like, the perfect crush. They have a warning about you in the introductory packet for Mme. Bustier’s class.”
“They do not,” Marinette gasps, outraged. “I wrote that packet!”
“And then the class unanimously decided you were too dangerous to be walking around without a warning sign,” Chloé pinched her cheek. “If it makes you feel any better, it’s still in the packet despite Lila’s best efforts to get it thrown out.”
That does make Marinette feel better.
“Damian Wayne resurfaces after year of being believed dead,” Adrien reads from his phone. “Gotham’s Newest Wayne: The True Son! These all read like tabloids but as far as I can tell the Wayne’s don’t tolerate stuff like that. So I guess it’s true?”
“I’m tired of looking him up,” Marinette groans. “Can we just leave it be?”
“Nope,” Chloé pops the P. “Congrats, Dupain-Cheng, this is what friends are for.”
“I wish I could talk to Tikki about it,” Marinette sighs. “Especially because I have literally never heard anyone talk about that- electric feeling when we touched. Is it a Ladybug thing?”
Plagg opens one big green eye. “Cool it, Spots. It’s definitely a Ladybug thing. You’re literally the reason these marks exist.”
Marinette sticks her tongue out at the mini god. “I just miss her.”
“Join the club,” he grumbles, closing his eye and going back to napping.
“Good news,” Chloé says, bringing her attention back to the laptop. “Searching your name very easily leads to you, and our class, and the fact that we won the contest. So, unless he decides he’s not ready to meet you, you’ll have the chance to find him at the gala. Or at Wayne Enterprises. Or at any of the places the Wayne’s own, which is two-thirds of our trip destinations.”
“Oh god,” Marinette says. “What if he didn’t want to find me?”
Adrien, Chloé, and four Kwamis hit her at the same time, shoving her back into the bed.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Mari,” Adrien scolds her from his position atop the newly formed cuddle pile. “I saw his face too. If the boy isn’t already in love with you, he’ll be hunting you down just for the chance to fall.”
Trixx nuzzled into her side. “I may not be Tikki but all of us Kwamis know how incredible you are, Marinette.”
She sighed. “Alright guys, get off.”
———
Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Tim already knew who the girl was, because he’d been curious when his favorite artist had started talking about the source of his newest looks.
But having Damian demand his help in searching for everything he could find on her, and then only asking for the bare minimum of information about her trip itinerary- Tim wasn’t an idiot.
“So. She’s your soulmate.” Tim takes a sip of the coffee he’d been working on, making a face and instantly setting it back down when he realized it had gone cold.
Damian carefully did not change his expression, but it wasn’t fooling anyone. “And so what if she is?”
Tim looked back at the monitor. “So nothing. Congrats, Demon Spawn. I’m happy for you.”
He barely caught the edge of the scowl the younger Wayne tried to hide.
“Hey, no.” Tim spun his chair to face Damian. “Look, we’ve had our differences and disagreements-“
“You had me on the superhero equivalent of a terrorism watch list,” Damian interrupted.
“And you literally tried to kill me within the first day of meeting me.”
“A byproduct of my indoctrination from birth into a murder cult,” His brother kept his face still but the tone was wry.
“You kept trying to kill me.”
“I wasn’t trying to kill you!” Damian finally exclaimed, losing his collected demeanor. “Just-“
“Point being,” Tim stressed, “even if we haven’t always gotten along- haven’t ever, really- I’m still happy for you. Soulmates are a special thing. We all kind of thought you might not have one, with the way you always acted when Dick tried to ask.”
Damian forced down the immediate retort and looked at Tim. “I thought that maybe my dying would have prevented my name from showing up for them. And my teachings-“ he said the word with the inflection that meant he was discussing Assassin Upbringing rather than here- “were as such that most connections, be they familial, friendly, or romantic, were- unnecessary and even dangerous.” It felt tantamount to a betrayal of his younger self to confide anything in Drake like this, but... Damian really was, in many ways, a better and more mature person than the spoiled, aggressive, near sociopathic brat he’d arrived as seven years ago. He still kept the veneer of it up, but he was no longer the boy who needed to fight Drake to prove his worth as Bruce’s son.
Now he just waited for Drake to embarrass himself by passing out after staying up for far too long surviving on caffeine and energy drinks. Much easier.
And Drake didn’t ever seem as eager to blackmail and fight as Damian ever had, so he figured a small amount of vulnerability was a proper thank you for his discretion in finding Marinette.
Tim just took another grimacing sip of the cold coffee. “Man. In that case, even happier for you that you’re shrugging off yet another of the Child Assassin School’s upsetting and frankly terrible rules. Though as for the dying thing, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t matter as long as you don’t actively die now that you have the mark.”
Damian shrugged. “Irrelevant now, as I will not be dying anytime soon, and neither will she. And she clearly knows that we’re soulmates.”
“Still confused about that,” Tim frowned, looking back at him. “You said there was an electric current between you? Or it felt like that?”
Damian couldn’t stop his hand from twitching, the memory of it clear enough to feel. “Yes. I don’t understand it myself either.”
“I’ll search around. See if anything comes up.” Tim handed him a pile of papers. “Here, the info you wanted on her itinerary, plus things I thought would be pertinent without going over whatever line you seem to have drawn.”
Damian took them, and very begrudgingly said, “Thank you,” before ducking out of the room.
He waited until he was back in his own room before flicking through them, finding the trip schedule and the hotel rooms listed, the names of her class and teachers, and finally a list of her accomplishments and a copy of the paper that had won her class the trip, authored by her.
He read through it, noting the names of her classmates and their own community efforts, and the way her own section in the paper was minuscule compared to both each other persons section and the list of accomplishments Drake had drafted.
One classmate had, if no less written than than any other person, a distinctly different tone to what Marinette had written, and most of her community building and service events were merely echoes or assisting what another person had done. Damian shrugged it off, as there were sometimes people who simply tagged along, and never put their own effort out there. Followers, and not leaders.
All in all, he found himself more intrigued than ever about her.
TAGLIST:
@the-fusionist @rebecarojas07 @lowandco @kotaleartzu @resignedcatservant @alenee13 @mystery-5-5 @ladybug-182 @actual-disaster-human @loysydark @rumbelle18 @magic-miraculous @vixen-uchiha @athena452 @mochegato @ash-amg @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @thestressmademedoit @sassakitty @doriebell @jessigurl-design @emotionalsupportginger @kceedraws @kuroko26 @moonystars14 @toodaloo-kangaroo @myazael @theatreandcomicfreak @mer-mel @dahjokester @northernbluetongue @area51qt @renscorpio @redscarlet95 @razzledazzle247 @rosep16 @tired-butterfly @catthhay @shamefullove @imanerddealwith @chaosace @captainmac6 @bigpicklebananatree @abrx2002 @cici-schnee @multplelifes @shreky-boi @purple-people-eaters-productions @crazylittlemunchkin @weird-pale-blonde-person
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girls-scenarios · 4 years ago
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The Warmth in Her Smile
Idol: Irene (Red Velvet)
Prompt: ceo irene age gap love story w gf (angst and fluff but more angst yknow) along the lines of having their differences but irene rly rly loves gf
Writer: Admin Kiwi
A/N: I did end up making this reader female, just because it worked better for the angst scenario I was inspired to write.
♡ Tip Jar♡
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Irene had never been someone to jump headfirst into anything without stopping to think first. She hadn’t created a successful company by being careless, and her careful and calculating personality had made her rich. Even in high school, she had been careful of her actions, overthinking each situation as she planned her rise to the top of the business world. Everything was accounted for in her life.
Except for you.
She could have never accounted for you, or for the way you shoved your way into her heart and refused to leave. How could she have known that, on that rainy day, the panicked college kid she sheltered with her umbrella would make her fall in love? Had she known, she would have kept walking.
But she didn’t. Instead she smiled and took you in, offering you a change of clothes when you told her that you had a presentation and giving you her umbrella when you left, and now she couldn’t let you go.
What was it about you that was so addicting? Your smile? Your embrace? The way you tried your best even after being soaked to the bone? The way your lips felt against yours? Or perhaps the way your eyes sparkled when she praised you and when you accomplished what you wanted? When she tried to list the reasons, she only realized how much she loved everything about you. And how easily you could break her heart.
-
“Is it normal for you to loan people your clothes when they get wet?” You had laughed softly as you stepped out of her bathroom, your hair still slightly wet but now pulled back away from your face. With a shrug, Irene had walked over to fix the blazer around your shoulders.
“I’m a philanthropist at heart. Do you always follow people to their home?”
You’d flushed and grinned sheepishly. “Well, I recognized you. You helped run the animal shelter fundraiser at my college last year and my friend said you lent everyone gloves, so I figured you were a nice person.”
Amused, she’d laughed and shook her head, her heart already taking to this optimistic college kid. “Fair point. You look ready to give a presentation now that you no longer look like a drowned kitten.”
“But is it really okay for me to take these clothes? I mean, they’re really nice.”
“They were a gift from a colleague, but they never fit me. They fit you, so you can keep them.”
“Wow.” You had grinned, warming her heart. “Thanks, I really appreciate it. I have to go now, but I’ll be back to repay you, I promise!”
At first, when she had let you out the door and waved goodbye, she hadn’t believed that you would keep your promise. After all, how could a broke college student repay her for designer clothes?
However, the next day you had showed up at her office, catching her as she was leaving for lunch with a grin on your face. “Hey, I told you I would repay you, right? Let me buy you lunch!”
And she probably should have said no. She should have known what would come out of this from the warmth you’d left in her heart as you ran off that day. But she hadn’t. Instead she’d agreed with a smile, holding up the keys to her car and offering to drive to the place of your choice.
Instead, she sealed her own fate.
-
“How do you not know any slang? How old are you?” You laughed from where you were perched on the couch, looking over the back with your head resting on your arms, watching her as she cut strawberries in the kitchen. With a huff, she playfully pointed the fruit knife at you.
“You know, you’re pretty rude for a kid. I’m not even thirty yet.”
“Only a year out.”
“Oh shut up. I was busy creating a business, I didn’t have any time to learn slang.” Her lips curved down into a pout, which only made you laugh again. Her competitors always called her scary, but she could never intimidate you.
“Right, right. Maybe I should teach you some, so that you can be hip with the youth.”
“And why would I want to be hip with the youth?” Irene asked, rolling her eyes scooping the strawberries into a bowl.
“Well, you’re dating one.”
Your words made her drop her knife into the sink, her body freezing for a moment. Quickly, she covered up her mistake by turning on the water and washing her hands, but her heart was racing no matter how nonchalant she tried to be. She was dating a youth. A youth who could drink and was in her twenties, but still a youth. And she didn’t understand half the words you said. Swallowing, she dried her hands and picked up the bowl of strawberries.
“I guess you can teach me some,” she said as she walked over to the couch, handing you the bowl. “But I can’t promise that I’ll be able to learn.”
You were quiet for a moment as she sat down beside you, then leaned your head on her shoulder. “Better late than never, right?” As if trying to chase away the awkward air, you nodded at the TV. “What do you want to watch?”
Still, Irene felt a weight on her heart as she settled in next to you, remembering how you’d fallen asleep the last time she’d chosen what to watch. Maybe she was getting old. Reaching for a strawberry, she gave you a smile that she hoped wasn’t too strained. “Oh. You can choose. I think I chose last time.”
-
“Hey, do you remember when you picked me up from college the other day? For dinner?” You looked uncomfortable, staring down at the plate in front of you with your hands in your lap. The two of you were eating dinner together once again, at a new place her friends had recommended. Despite the amazing smells and fantastic food, though, you’d seemed troubled all dinner. Now, Irene frowned, putting down her chopsticks.
“Yeah, why?”
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, twisting your hands together in your lap as you blushed. “Well, my friends are calling you my, um, sponsor.”
“Sponsor?”
“They think you’re my sugar mommy, basically,” you said, rushing your words as you flushed even deeper. Irene swallowed, her blood running cold. Suddenly she wasn’t so hungry anymore.
“I.... I guess I could see why they think that.” Her car wasn’t exactly conspicuous, a sleek brand-new Lexus that was so clean it gleamed in the light. “What did you-?”
You cut her off. “I don’t think of you that way! I tried to explain that we just met by accident and that you don’t give me gifts like that, but they wouldn’t listen! They said it was okay if I was getting paid to date someone, but they hadn’t expected it from me. I didn’t know what else to say. I’m not dating you for your money, but now that I think about it, it looks suspicious, the two of us together.” You were obviously flustered and upset by your friends’ accusations, but Irene wasn’t sure what to do. Still, she reached out her hand, offering her support, and after a moment, you took it.
“It was only suspicious because I was picking you up from college. When we’re out like this, we’re just two people. Nobody can tell that you’re a student or that I’m a CEO. And what other people think doesn’t matter, because I know that I love you and I’m not trying to pay you to be around.”
“I know,” you said with a sigh, squeezing her hand. “I just wish my friends didn’t think that way.”
“I won’t pick you up in front of them anymore. If there’s anything I can do to stop them from being suspicious, let me know.”
“Okay.” Your voice was quiet, and she hated it. She hated seeing you down when you were usually so optimistic. And she couldn’t help feeling that this was her fault.
-
Her secretary Yeri was looking at her with pursed lips, her eyes intense with scrutiny despite the early morning hour. Warily, Irene walked past her to her desk and sat her bag down.
“Is something wrong?” She asked, already knowing the answer. Yeri only got like this when something was wrong.
“I’ve heard from gossip around the office,” Yeri said, choosing her words carefully, “that you’ve been seeing a student.”
Oh. Oh god. Irene groaned and rubbed her hand against her head. Of course people were going to find out, but the wording made it sound worse than it was. “A university student, Yeri. There’s nothing illegal going on.”
“Even if it’s legal, don’t you think it’s risky?”
“Why?”
“No offense, but you’re getting older. What will the shareholders say if they find out?”
“If it’s not illegal, I don’t see why anyone would have a problem with it.”
Yeri rubbed at her temple, like she always did when Irene was irritating her. “It still doesn’t look proper. A CEO dating a college student? They’ll say you’re paying them to date you!”
“But I’m not. They can check my statements if they want. I’ve given them some small gifts and paid for some dinners but you can see that I’ve never paid them any money.” Irene was starting to feel annoyed. “Plus, if I’m making them money, can they really complain about what I’m doing in my free time?”
“They definitely can if they think something illicit is happening.”
“Nothing like that is happening.”
“Still, you have to think about it from their point of view,” the younger woman said, crossing her arms. “And what about the student? Have you ever thought that they might just be after you for your money? You’re a millionaire, you have to worry about these things!”
“I know (Y/N),” Irene responded, her voice tight. “She wouldn’t do that. We’re dating and we’re in love. Is that so wrong?”
For a moment, Yeri was silent. Then she gave in with a sigh. “Whatever. Just be more careful, okay? You know how easily reputations can be ruined. Even just by rumors.”
“I’ll be more careful.” What a way to start her day. Irene fell back into her chair and frowned. “And spread the word that I don’t appreciate the office gossiping about their boss behind my back. If they have a grievance, they can come and take it up with me directly.” She wasn’t usually one to feel angry. But she was tired from the stress of work and from staying up with you, and she was beginning to feel annoyed that the rest of the world thought they had a say in her relationship.
“Will do.”
-
One night, after a fitful sleep, she woke up to the moon slipping in through the window and to a headache behind her eyes. For a moment, she was confused at the warmth next to her, until she smelt your familiar shampoo and remembered that you’d come over to spend the night. Slowly and carefully, as to not wake you up, she sat up and glanced at her clock. It was 3am. She let out a groan and pressed her fingers to her forehead, annoyed with herself. She’d never let stress affect her like this before.
Not wanting her restlessness to wake you up, she slipped out of bed and headed to the kitchen to find her medication, hoping it would help her sleep.
For a while after taking her medication, she held onto her glass of water and looked around her large apartment. There were pieces of you everywhere, so stark and out of place that they were too obvious to miss. Your textbooks and backpack were on a kitchen chair, your slightly worn sneakers sat beside her expensive work heels, a YA book she’d bought for you when you wanted it peeked out among the reference books on her shelf, and your extra pair of slippers was covered in your favorite characters while hers were plain and grey. You’d slipped into her life, but it almost felt like you didn’t belong there, no matter how much her heart wanted you to stay.
Gulping down the rest of her water, she tried not to think of that. Instead, she washed the glass before heading back to the bedroom and climbing into bed beside you. The room was dark, but the moon outside was abnormally bright, and she gazed down at your features, relaxed and smooth. It was when you were asleep that it struck her how young you really were. Your hair was a mess and you still slept like you weren’t used to sharing a bed with someone, your limbs spread across her king sized bed. Where she was beginning to get lines in her frown and smile lines, your skin was smooth. The dark circles under your eyes weren’t as defined as hers.
Her heart twisting in her chest, she gently touched your face, running her thumb over your cheekbones. God, she loved you so much. To her, you were the most beautiful woman in the world. Maybe it was because it was late and she was stressed from work, but tears began to well up in her eyes.
She was too old for you. It hadn’t been long since you’d had your first legal drink, yet she could hardly drink without getting a terrible hangover the next day. You were still at the age where you liked to party and go out with friends, but she got headaches from loud sounds and preferred to go to bed instead of going out after work. She couldn’t go to clubs or parties with you, no matter how much you wanted her to. She was busier than you, she often had to go on business trips, she couldn’t always be around for you like another student could. She knew her long hours annoyed you, because the two of you had gotten into arguments about it before. But work wasn’t like classes: she couldn’t just skip her duties.
Biting her lip, she pulled her hand away and tried to swallow around the lump in her throat. What was she doing? This wasn’t right. None of this was right. She was stealing your youth away from you when you should be spending it with someone who could give you everything you wanted. Her gifts couldn’t make up for all the times she missed important dates and left you alone for weeks on end.
You stirred and she froze, staring down at you as you rolled over to face her and reached out your hand towards her. “Irene?” Your voice was rough and tired, and she reached out to grab your hand.
“I’m right here,” she replied, quickly wiping at her face.
“Mmkay. Just making sure.” A smile came to your lips and you seemed to drift off into sleep, leaving her to ponder in the dark, her heart torn into pieces of indecision.
-
“You’re going on a business trip again?” Your voice was rising from where you stood, leaning against the counter in the kitchen with your arms crossed. Your eyebrows were furrowed and your lips pressed into a frown that she was now seeing too often. “But you missed my birthday last year too! I thought you would want to spend it with me this time, but I guess I was wrong.”
“I said that I’m sorry.” Her words sounded void even to herself as she ran her fingers through her hair. “But it’s a business trip. I can’t say no.”
“You can’t even reschedule?”
“That’s not how these things work, (Y/N).”
“There you go again!” You stood up, your face flushing with anger. “You’re treating me like I’m a kid who doesn’t know anything about the world!”
“That’s because you don’t know anything about my world,” Irene replied, beginning to feel hollow. How many times had she had this fight with you before? “I have responsibilities that I can’t throw away just to spend time with you. I own a company, (Y/N).”
“I’m well aware. And sometimes, I think you care about that company more than you care about me.”
“That’s not true.” Her heart fractured and broke a little bit more, her throat burning as the urge to cry welled up inside her. Why was she crying so much these days? “I love you, more than I think you know.”
“Then why don’t you show it?”
“Because I can’t show it the same way that someone the same age as you might show it. I buy you gifts, but you say that you don’t want them because it makes people think I’m your sugar mommy. I offer to take you with me on trips, but you can’t because of school. I can’t pick you up for dinner anymore. But I try and I try to show you. I buy you flowers and I invite you over whenever you don’t have homework and I hold you ever time I get the chance. I tell you that I love you all the time. Every time you want something, I try to get it or make it happen. Is that not enough?”
You fell quiet for a moment. “I just wish you could spend more time with me. That’s all I want.”
“I spend every moment I have free with you.”
“Why don’t you give yourself more days off? You’re the boss.”
“That’s not how it works.” This isn’t how relationships work, Irene thought. We’re both in totally different worlds. Why did I ever think this would work?
“Why not?”
“Because I have to run the place. If I slacked off all the time, what kind of boss would I be?”
“I don’t know what kind of boss you would be, but you might be a better girlfriend.”
In that moment, Irene’s world fell down around her, and she accepted the truth. She accepted that this was never going to work. That she was never going to be able to give you what you needed in a relationship, and that you would never understand her world and the stress of it all. It took everything in her and made the tears spill from her eyes, but she finally forced the words out. “Then let’s break up.”
You froze, your eyes widening. Emotions flew across your face as you took in her words, before your shoulders slumped and the anger in your frown melted away. “Wait, Irene, what-.”
“We need to break up. This isn’t going to work between us, (Y/N), and it never has. I love you, I really do. But we can’t give each other what we need. We live in different worlds and we can’t understand each other. If we continue like this we’ll only end up hurting each other more. So let’s break up before that happens.”
Your lip started to quiver and Irene looked away, wiping at her face. She knew that if she saw you cry, she might give in. And she couldn’t give in.
“But.... I didn’t....” You seemed at a loss for words, as if you thought she would never say those words. In all honesty, she wasn’t sure she would ever say them either. “I never meant to hurt you,” you said, voice softer now.
“But you did. And I never meant to hurt you, but I did. We can’t continue like this, with you having to hide me from your friends and family because you don’t know what they’ll think, and with me having to hide you from the people I work with. I’m tired, and I’m sure you are too. It’s all too much.”
“I don’t want to break up with you. I love you.”
“I love you too. But surely you see why we can’t keep doing this.” She glanced up to see that you were crying now too, the anger gone from your body. “I’m sorry,” she said, and her voice broke. “But I’m breaking up with you for our own good.”
“Even though we still love each other?”
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, staring down at the floor. For a moment, there was silence, other than the sound of crying. Then you sucked in a breath and shifted, standing from the counter.
“When I graduate and get a job, will you give me another chance then?”
Her heart ached to say yes as she looked up at you again, taking in your face for what she knew was the last time. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I don’t know what the future will hold. But maybe if we’re meant to be, then we’ll meet again in the future. And maybe we can try again.”
“Then this is goodbye.” You stood across from her, your face streaked with tears, and suddenly the kitchen felt too big, and she felt too small. “Can I at least have one last hug.”
She had never been strong enough to tell you no. Despite knowing this would make it hurt worse, she nodded her head and allowed you to walk over and wrap her up in your arms one last time, hugging her like your life depended on it. For a moment, she sank into your arms and allowed herself to imagine a future where everything was okay and the two of you never broke up.
But then you pulled away, yanking her from her fantasy, and smiled. “I’m glad I met you,” you said, and she barely held in a sob, wiping at her face and feeling pathetic.
“I’m glad I met you too.”
She walked you to the door, helped you gather all your things, and saw you out. It was only when you were gone and the door was closed that she finally allowed herself to sob, her heart shattering as she sunk down onto the floor and buried her face in her hands.
Her apartment had never felt so cold.
-
Even years later, Irene had never forgotten about you, not really. Even though she’d tried to convince herself that she was okay, the suit she’d lent to you that day still hung at the front of her closet, and she often ran her fingers over the fabric and tried it on, only to look in the mirror and remember that it never fit in the first place. She went on a few dates that her friends set up for her, but no one ever took your place. Her bed stayed cold and empty, so instead she threw herself into her work, pushing her company further than it had ever been.
That was what she’d always wanted, right?
Her days all blended together, boring and bland and busy, until one day she sat down behind her desk and opened up a file of resumes only to see a name that knocked the breath out of her staring out of the paper.
(Y/N). Applying for the recently vacated secretary position, passed the test and first round of evaluations. She sucked in a breath, her heart pounding in her chest. Was it really you? After all these years?
She picked up her coffee and took a sip, trying to calm her shaking hands and push down the hope flooding through her body. If it was you....
There was a knock at her door and she quickly put down her coffee and straightened herself. “Yes?”
Joy, the HR manager, opened the door. “One of the applicants for the secretary position is here.”
“What’s their name?”
“Her name is (Y/N).”
Her heart climbed up into her throat but she put on her best poker face and nodded her head. “Send her in.”
Joy nodded and disappeared, and a moment later, the door was opened again by a familiar face with a warm smile that once again took her breath away. Just like it had years ago.
“Remember me?” You asked as you approached her desk, and she laughed. Like she could forget you. You were obviously older now, your features more defined, and you’d cut your hair, but you were still just as beautiful as she remembered.
“I thought it was you.” She wasn’t sure what to say as she leaned forward onto her desk, your file open in front of you. “But I never thought I’d see you here.”
You sat down and clasped your hands, and she caught a hint of nervousness in your mannerisms. “I didn’t want to let you go,” you said, your voice soft but steady, “so I worked hard to get my degree so I could come here. Will you give me a chance?”
“For the job, or for us?” Irene wasn’t sure what possessed her to make a joke, but when you laughed, she was glad she did.
“Both?”
“Well,” she replied, knowing that she still couldn’t say no to you, “we still have to do the interview. But I can say yes to one of those for sure.” At her words, you laughed again and held out your hand, and as she took it, she swore that her office had never felt so warm.
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anthonyed · 4 years ago
Note
I'll keep you warm, stevetony (fluff mayhaps?)
Anon, not gonna lie: I did the prompts in order so the one I did before this were angst and hurt/comfort respectively which made me forgot how to write fluff for a sec. Point is: before I wrote the actual (what I hope) fluff (above cut and some below), I wrote something that leans more to hurt/comfort/soft (some weird genre idk) and I’m including that under the cut just because.
Hope at least one of the below satisfies your fluff need, anon :) (from this list: "I'll keep you warm")
-//-
Steve is something else. 
Well, he's many things in the sense that you see or hear him do that and be like, yeah. That sounds like Steve. 
But then, there are other things he'd do and nobody would buy Tony when he says: "Steve did that! I swear, Pepper, I'm not exaggerating."
Like right now, coming into the workshop wrapped neck down in their comforter which -
"What are you doing?" Tony asks, jaw slack, voice high and airy in disbelief, mouth agape and eyes wide behind his safety goggles. 
Lucky for him, he created JARVIS when he was 21 and had a stroke of brilliance in the middle of an ugly grieving so he doesn't have to suffer a third-degree burn from a hot glue gun today. 
Steve though, he plops in front of Tony with his massive comforter wrapped form and burrows into it deeper, letting only baby blue eyes peek out like a damned mole - Jesus Christ - and he whines, "I'm cold."
Tony's mouth snaps close at one. His eyes narrow and he points the glue-gun at Steve. "You," he says, "You, you, you. I know exactly what you're doing."
But Steve is a stubborn, stubborn man. He makes sure he gets what he wants by the sheer force of his will if that's what he's left to give. Or maybe it's Tony who's a weak dumb man when it comes to Steve.
Either way, Steve purses his lips, bats his lashes and tilts his head at an angle. All the while looking at Tony with those baby blue puppy eyes and that's all it takes for Tony to drop the glue gun and groan into his hands. 
This is not fair! "Jarvis, I need this footage to show Pepper tomorrow morning," he says, standing up. 
Steve straightens up, letting his whole head pop out of the blanket burrito he'd wrapped himself in and Tony makes it a point to chuck his goggles with an extra dose of venom while glaring at him. 
"Captain America, they said. Prime man full of virtues, my ass. This!" he points at Steve's exaggerated innocent face. "This is not virtue. This is playing dirty."
"But I'm not Captain America," Steve grins, dropping the facade as he waddles clumsily behind Tony, marching out of the shop; the extra length of the comforter dragging like a tail behind him. "I'm Steve Rogers, making sure my boyfriend comes to bed on time."
Tony waits until they're inside the elevator to stare him up and down and he lets out a defeated sigh, "Still not fair."
Steve smiles, smug and well - he has a very good reason to be, no shit. "All is fair in love and war," he says, chest puffing out in pride.
"No," Tony draws the line. "You say that one more time and I'm going straight back to the shop."
The effect is instant like he'd flicked a switch and Steve goes from a smug bastard to his faux innocent puppy eyes burrowing into his comforter wrap.
"But I am cold." He mumbles into it, blinking up at Tony. "I need you to warm me up."
And the elevator door opens, but Tony has already made up his mind quicker. "Are you now?" He pouts back, cocking his head sideway, playing into whatever his boyfriend's doing.
But the wiggle to his lips betray his mischievous intent spectacularly and Steve's already one foot out of the elevator by the time Tony lunges for him. 
Super soldier and their super speed: "Come here, you!" Tony calls, breaking into a jog and God forbid, he'd lived close to half a century of his life; Steve even worse, but also not. He's 33 if they're counting out the years he'd spent in the ice. Still old enough to not run but he is; bolting into their shared bedroom like the devil himself is at his tail, chuckles like chiming bells following his path. 
And no, Tony thinks, after the first few feet. He refuses to play chase at this age, but not so much to tickling Steve in the bed once he'd caught up. Asking, "You want me to keep you warm? Huh? Is that what you want? I'll keep you warm. Come here, you big blonde cheat." 
All the while Steve's laughing into the pile of comforter he'd shed as soon as he'd accomplished his mission, twitching with every poke and jab to his flanks.
"Uncle!" He gasps. "Uncle, uncle, uncle!"
And Tony lets him go. Breath heaving as he rolls off of Steve, brushing hair out of his eyes. "You asked for this." He tells his panting boyfriend; red in the face, hair mussed, spilling soft all over his face and he looks so precious that Tony has to just cup his face and smack a kiss on his grinning mouth.
"You win," he admits, rolling out of the bed and peeling off his shirt, letting it fall in a lump on the floor as he walks to the bathroom to brush his teeth. 
"This time!" He shouts back just to make it clear, so Steve doesn't get any wild ideas about fooling Tony again in the future.
He thinks he hears a faint "Every single time," but promptly decides to ignore that. 
-//- vers 2 -//-
“Come here,” Steve says, stretched out in bed looking expectant like everything’s perfect.
Any other time, Tony would have leaped at the chance. He’s never been a guy for picket fences and happy endings but sitting in one of Barton’s kid’s rooms changes perspective. 
If you look out the window, you can see the barn cum garage and Tony’s been there earlier this afternoon, checking on their tractor, speaking with Fury about stuff and he’d came out of there for hours now but there was a thought he had when he was still inside: 
Wood fire is great; Steve could chop the logs and I can work the tractor. We’ll have to discuss who cooks dinner, and there’ll be a kid, a boy running around calling for us, maybe. One day - Maybe.
And that thought’s still swimming in his head. 
The thing is, they’re still raw from battle. Just hours ago, they’d almost had a fight (if not for Mrs Barton) and now, Steve’s here on a single bed pretending like that didn’t happen, calling Tony for a cuddle.
“I’m fine.” He says, turning back to the gauntlet he's fiddling with under a low table lamp, straining his eyes behind his glasses.
It’s late summer but something about the secluded farmhouse in the middle of nowhere makes the wind chiller. And his body responds with a shiver when a draft passes by. He looks up, checks the window and he knows it’s closed tight; he did that a minute ago. 
“Tony,” Steve sighs, sounding closer than before and when he looks up, he’s right; Steve is closer, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed now - Didn’t even hear him move, which is a surprise, so Tony looks at the bed frame, wondering what material it’s made of. 
“Tony,” Steve calls again. Softer.
He looks up. Steve looks weary, but he strains to smile. “Come to bed,” he says. “You need rest.”
And Tony knows he does, but- 
But, he doesn’t deserve to rest. He is the reason why all this happened - is happening - in the first place. He caused this - How can he rest?
He goes back to the gauntlet.
And he forgets just how stubborn Steve is until he feels a hand on his shoulder. Then another lands over his, before he can even turn around, to pry the gauntlet from his fingers. “Come on,” Steve says, pressing the words into his temple.
With one hand, he frees the tiny wrench from Tony’s grip while he holds Tony’s head to his mouth with the other, pressing a kiss and he combs his hair back, leaning away, looking into Tony’s eyes when a shiver wrecks down Tony’s spine.
“It’s kinda cold tonight,” he smiles, soft eyes tempting like whiskey on a lonely evening, “Warm me up?” and Tony has to roll his eyes at that.
“What are you? 12?” he snorts. “Is this how you flirt, because Rogers you better count your lucky stars you landed me for your boyfriend. I let you get away with this. Anyone else, I doubt they will.”
“I got blue eyes and blonde hair,” Steve shrugs and it’s lame; Tony knows what he’s doing, knows it’s working, but it’s not like he’s fighting against Steve’s efforts, anyway.
They’re lame; could be better. But it’s past midnight in some unregistered region on earth and they’re tired from fighting his own creation, tired of arguing; it's a picket fence farm with children and everything feels like fairy dreams here. 
Tony doesn’t do fairy dreams but Steve makes him want to. He makes him think: maybe - one day. 
Maybe that’s why he lets Steve have that satisfaction of pulling him up to his feet and onto the bed.
Maybe that’s why he lets Steve tuck his head under his chin and says, “I’ll keep you warm, super soldier.”
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mendesficsxbombay · 5 years ago
Text
your boyfriend is...(II)| s.m
part 1 here
I had received requests for a part two of this fic which happens to be the most loved one so far so here you go! I hope you like it!
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He sees white. 
There’s white sand, he thinks it’s sand, and curtains billowing over it. He sees a large wooden cabana, steps leading up to it, the steps are white, the pillars are white. He hears the sound of water somewhere. 
Turning around, he sees waves crashing into the sand, can water be white? The sunset is almost as beautiful as the day he saw her the first time, splatters of pink and violet and orange. The sky is the only pop of colour he thought he needed. 
There’s a carpet leading up to the cabana, white, of course, and large vases lined along it, there are white flowers - petunia, daisy, wisteria, large streams of flowers hanging from the ceiling of the cabana. He sees his friends dressed in white suits, his dad in a white tux, too and he smiles thinking of how perfect it all looks. His mother stands with her mother, both wearing white flowers in their hair, it looks beautiful on them. A hand touches his back, and he knows it’s her. 
He turns around to take her in his arms, he could look at her forever. Glowing, flushed and smiling up at him. He leans down to kiss her but she pulls away, “Wake up, baby.”
“Huh?”
“Wake up, Shawn it’s 9 and you have to be in the studio in an hour.”
He sees white again, but this time it’s the comforter wrapped around him, it’s her silk dress shirt and the headband she chose for the day, it’s her laptop case she is currently packing away and the large photo frame behind her, holding a photo of theirs. 
“What?”
“Wow, you did sleep well, huh? It’s Tuesday, babe you need to be at the studio at 10 and you asked me to wake you up before I leave.”
He checks for the rings on her hands, just the set of gold bands she always wore. Huh. She must’ve taken off the ones he gave her. 
“I don’t know what time I’ll be back today so please don’t forget your keys, actually you know what I’ll just,” she links his house keys with his car keys, “there, now you won’t forget it.”
Pleased with herself she walks over to him again, she kisses him lightly on the cheek, mindful of the deep marsala shade of lipstick she is wearing, “I love you, have the best day at work,” she pulls away smiling. 
“Babe, where’s your ring?”
She looks at him in confusion - “What ring?”
“You know, the ring?” 
She looks down at her hands in confusion - what ring? Oh, wait, he’s probably asking about my mom’s ring, she thinks to herself. What a thoughtful boy. 
“Oh, that’s tucked away in our closet, don’t worry. I gotta leave now, bye bubs!”
And she’s gone. It looked like a flash of white, his mind still hazy. Was it because he got high before sleeping last night? That couldn’t be it, right? 
He sighs while moving sluggishly to sit up, rubbing his eyes and willing the sleep to go away. He slept for over 10 hours and still felt exhausted, it worried him to think about what it would be like when he they actually get down to planning the wedding - god forbid that coincides with planning for his tour. How would he do it all? It seemed impossible, he should’ve proposed a long, long time ago, should’ve done it as soon as the last tour got over, no wait he should have proposed in the middle of his tour, and got married as soon as tour got over. Then they would already be married right now and she would wear the ring all the time. He’s just stupid thats all he is, really. 
He pulls himself over the side of the bed, laying his feet into the plush white, faux fur carpet she insisted on getting when they moved in. The carpet was one of the better decisions she had made and he silently thanked her each time he walked over it. We should have carpets like this at the wedding. 
In no time he was carried away with thoughts about the wedding again, the location, the invitations, her outfits, his outfits, the honeymoon, but the dull vibrations of his phone on the nightstand pulled him to reality. It was her. 
“Hi baby”
“Did you shower yet?”
“…No.”
“You are going to be so late, please go shower, please.”
She acted like such a wife already. The wife of his dreamiest dreams. “Yes ma’am,” he grinned into the phone, getting out of bed and heading to their en suite. 
_______________________________ 
He pulls himself up to the door after yet another strenuous day at the studio. He had to FaceTime his label executives in New York and LA, scheduling meetings for the coming week and still having to figure a way to finish the day’s task list. He unlocks the door and steps inside, a dull headache working its way in. Shawn toes his shoes off and lightly kicks them in line with hers to make them look neat and finally walks into their living room. 
She’s cuddled into the blanket they thew over the couch for times when they needed a binge watch, her hair pulled into a loose braid and glasses perched on her nose. She notices him walk in slowly, pulls the blanket off herself, getting covered by him instead. Smiling to herself she pulls the blanket over both of them again, her hands weaving through his curls softly, aware of how many times he must’ve tugged and ran his hands through it during the day. 
“How was it today?” She asks, careful of how soft she spoke. 
He mumbles something along the lines of being tired and getting 3 songs finished and having ideas for a few more. He moves on top of her, turning his head and adjusting himself so he could face outwards, lightly taking in her post shower scent. Vanilla and roses. Roses remind him of the floral arrangement for their wedding again. He figures he should let her decide this bit. 
“What do you think about wisteria and white roses for the wedding?” He mumbles, she only gets the names of the flowers, nothing else. 
“As flowers? I think they’re great! There’s dinner in the kitchen, I can heat it up if you want.”
“I’m thinking of lots and lots of wisteria, what an underrated plant…”
“baby did you smoke up again? I hope you didn’t drive in this condition.”
“No I didn’t, why’d you ask that?” He’s so sleepy he can barely get the words out but she hears him, shushes him because if he gets worked up now he won’t be falling asleep anytime soon. 
“Okay I’m sorry, but do you want food right now though? Or do you want to wake up in the middle of the night again when you’re hungry?”
“Cocoa.”
“What?”
“I want cocoa.”
“It’s kinda hot to be drinking cocoa, bud.”
“Turn up the cooling then, and please make me some cocoa, I love you.”
She had to bite back a laugh. Sleepy Shawn wasn’t too far off from Drunk Shawn except when he was sleepy he liked the quiet, and when he was drunk he absolutely needed to scream everything, all wide eyed and overly gesticulative. She had her fair share of experience with both, and asking for hot chocolate the way her mum makes it was basically code for exhaustion like he hadn’t felt in a while. She slowly picked both of them up from the comforts of the couch and led him into the kitchen. She welcomed the feeling of cold marble under her feet, like she said it was summer and her snacks usually included ice creams and popsicles these days. 
He sat himself by the kitchen island, propping his head on his hands and watching her putter around putting together his favourite drink, her body nearly working on out pilot when she mixed the cocoa powder and brown sugar, he’s convinced she could make it with her eyes closed. 
“baby,” he called out, still just as soft, he didn’t have the energy for anything more than a whisper now. She hummed in response, not paying much mind, because he often called out to her out of habit, not purpose. 
“Listen, please,” he pouted because she hadn’t turned around to see him yet. 
“I’m listening, baby.”
“We should have cocoa at the wedding.”
“What?”
“I said, we should ha-”
“No, I heard you but hot chocolate isn’t exactly a wedding drink, I’ve never had it at a wedding?”
“Who cares about others? It could be our wedding drink.”
She felt a spark of heat starting in her chest and working towards her cheeks. Our wedding? She loved how casually he spoke about their future, like it wasn’t something he had to give too much of a thought to - it’s just a thing that’s meant to happen. She silently crushed some pieces of chocolate onto both their mugs as a topping, they weren’t the biggest fans of cream of any sort in their drinks and thought of how she would never want them to change, and how there’s no one else she’d rather make cocoa for at midnight on a Thursday. 
He was the purest person she had had the pleasure of knowing in her life, barely any malice and a heart full of respect and love for anyone that came across him. It hadn’t been easy, loving him, she’d been burned before and who’s to say he wouldn’t do the same to her? But now that she thought of the years they’d spent together and the moments they created in this very house and multiple places across the world, she wouldn’t mind being burned again if it meant she still got to keep him. Forgiveness didn’t come easy but with him it came like second nature. 
She turned around to place both their mugs on the island letting out a silent laugh at the image of her very tall, very lanky boyfriend passed out on the platform, head supported by both his arms. She wished the album would wrap up soon, the creative process had really taken a toll on him and he looked more and more worn out everyday. As much as it was his job, it was her job to look out for him too.  
Softly running her hand over his hunched back on her way out, she picked up his phone from where they it on the couch. Swiping it open, she pulled up his group chat with the writers and producers he was currently working with, shooting them a text that he wasn’t feeling too well and they should hold off recording for the next 2 days. 
Feeling accomplished, she looked back at where he was now snoring on the counter, she thought of if and when he would choose to slow down his career if they wished to be married. Maybe it was too early for her to be thinking so, hell, they hadn’t even proposed to each other yet. And if and when a wedding successfully goes through, they would still have a whole life ahead of themselves to plan things. To date, he’d gone above and beyond to make sure she was alright with the pace at which he was moving, and where they stood as a couple and just making sure that she was okay, and she knew for sure that he would continue doing the same for as long as they were together, it’s just a part of who he was, especially around her. 
She walked over to him, gently prodding him awake and watching him chug down the hot chocolate like his life depended on it. She smiled the whole time they went back to their room and finished their night routines and snuggled up in bed. If this was what the rest of her life looked like, she wouldn’t even mind running at the same pace as him. 
__________________
He has a Pinterest board dedicated to their wedding. They’re nearing the end of his fourth studio album fast, and each time they take a break he is glued to his phone and Saving and Moodboarding things for the ceremony. Teddy warned him that if he asked her to pick between an arched altar and a slightly more arched altar, she would leak his album. It’s not her fault they all look the same no matter how much he wanted to fight her on it. 
He’s currently swiping through decor options for their afterparty when he sees it. He’s not sure what a dress is doing in the middle of photos of rounded tables and helium balloons but he swears his mouth goes dry thinking of her in that dress. It’s a vision in gold, intricate embroidery on the sleeveless bustier, two tuck lines running down the front and a cinched waist that flairs out into the most beautiful ball gown he’s seen till date. And he’s seen a lot of them, he has a board to show for it. 
He takes a screenshot and sends it to her. 
From Shawn: Hi, I hope you’re having a good day at work so far, I saw this dress and I think it’d be perfect for the afterparty (attachment: 1 image)
Halfway across the city, she was on her break at work, deep in conversation with Tiffany, yes Shawn’s stylist Tiffany, about outfit choices for the GRAMMYs in the coming few days. Shawn wasn’t performing this year, so it wasn’t as stressful of a time as it would’ve otherwise been. She had shortlisted 2 outfits with Tiff earlier, now wondering if she even needed 2. Tiffany said she’d need an hour or so to figure how she could layer her evening gown and then use the same for the afterparty, she hated having to go back and change even if Shawn wanted to.    
She was about to resume work when a notification lit up her phone.  Reading Shawn’s texts, she paused in confusion, wondering why he was sending her dress recommendations when she was already talking to Tiffany. Tapping on the link anyway, she is led to an ethereal gown, the kind that she’s convinced only exist online and not in real life. She may have even let out a blissed out sigh, the aesthetic experience running sparks through her heart and mind, imagining herself in a dress so god sent, but where would she wear it? 
The realisation cuts her supply of serotonin real quick, reminding her that absolutely no occasion she had been invited to thus far was worth an outfit like that. 
To Shawn: Hi baby, I miss your face, only 4 hours till I see you! 
  very pretty dress. where would I wear it?
Meanwhile he’d returned to piecing random chords on his guitar together. Shawn perked up to see her reply. He quickly held his pick between his lips, picking his phone up to text back. 
From Shawn: afterparty??
also 
4 hours 2 go. . see u soon 
* see you at home 
❤️
Why would she wear something so good to a GRAMMY afterparty? Like yes, don’t get her wrong, they’re important and all, but just like Bong Joon-Ho believed the Oscars were very local, she thought the GRAMMYs had limited taste when it came to artists. Yes, the world would be watching, and this would be her first ever appearance with him as his girlfriend but she didn’t want to stress herself over how she looked or acted. The show hadn’t awarded her man’s album with the recognition it deserved, she hadn’t forgotten. And so, she was treating the GRAMMYs like no big deal, just a slightly big deal. 
She wanted the night to be about him. Even if it would be their first time on a red carpet together, she would not be stealing his spotlight in any way, thank you very much. And if that meant rejecting this gorgeous gown that would make her look like a bronzed angel that descended straight from heaven, then so be it. 
She looked around her office, people returning to their desks from all over, lunch time coming to a close and her time to get back to work coming closer, she needed to tell him why the dress was not happening when Tiffany finally texts her back. 
Dress is sorted. Sending you photos once I put it together, found a way to only give you one outfit for the night :) 
The smile growing across her face should be worrying, really. She messages a quick thank you, you’re the best, Tiff!!! before opening up her chat with Shawn. 
Afterparty dress is taken care of bubs, nothing to worry xx
See you at home 😘
______________________________
When Shawn calls her giddy and breathless, she drops all her work immediately. 
The album, baby it’s done! We just cut the final- yeah it’s my girlfriend hold on- baby we just cut the final song I needed and it’s over just - no we’ll all go out in a few days, yeah? I just really need to be home with her tonight, thanks man, yeah so I was saying, it’s done I’m wrapping up and I’m coming home, jaan. I love you.
 Her good credit in her company allowed her to immediately intercom her boss and say there’s a family emergency, nothing too serious but she needed to head home right away. On the way she picks up whatever she can remember she needs for their meal, a bottle of Cliquot, Rosé, of course, a few slices of his favourite cheesecake and a bouquet of fresh flowers - a colourful mixture Carnations and Lillies and she smiles just thinking about a bouquet so similar given to her when he asked her to be his. 
It’s not until she’s back to the house does she realise that he passed up on drinks with his music friends (yes she does still call them that) for an immediate post album celebration and chose to spend the night in with her. God, could he get anymore perfect. Tonight felt like the night, the night, and if she did manage to pull through with the plan she put together in the short 20 minute drive, it would definitely be a night to remember. 
Entering their home she gets to work quickly, setting the flowers up on their dining table and stowing away the champagne and cheesecake in the refrigerator to cool down. She doesn’t know exactly how much time she has till he gets home, and the dish she felt most prepared to make was Pesto Chicken, having the side dishes in mind already, and body working on auto pilot from there on. 
While her meal bakes in the oven she brings out the fine China, determined to make the real thing look and feel as perfect as the image in her mind. Once the table is set up she moves around the couches in the living room for when they will inevitably end up there to watch something, anything, to end their night, or continue their night, if you know what I mean. 
As she’s fluffing out her blanket next to his, the lights running low and candles lit all over the place, he unlocks the door to let himself in. The smell of a slow roast hits him before anything else, his eyes running over the place to see her as soon as they could. 
She hears him come in before she sees him, hears the sound of his keys jingling and the soft pad of him taking his trainers off. She whips around and practically flies across the room into his arms. He’s more prepared, though, immediately swinging her up and spinning her around laughing freely as she squealed incoherence into his neck. Once he hoisted her up and round his waist he finally grabbed her face to kiss her like she deserved. She hummed into his mouth, wrapping herself around him tighter and finally getting a taste of what she missed these last few days. He smelled like cinnamon and tasted like happiness and love and warmth and she couldn’t seem to get enough. 
In a bit he sets her back on her feet but refuses to pull away from her. She’s giggling against his lips about dinner and a celebration and he’s never felt more loved. He does still manage to keep her in place and kiss her a bit longer, though, and she lets him because it’s what he deserves. 
When she asks why he did not go out with the boys tonight he just shrugs. She offers for him to meet them wherever they are after dinner he just says no again. When she asks why, he says the album they just finished was about her and he needed to spend this night with his muse because it was the only thing that felt right. She was too giddy to bother arguing back. 
She’s already set the table, ready to bring out the food when he shyly asks her if they can go change into their pyjamas. When she says yes and is about to run up to their room to change, he further asks if they can sit on their living room floor instead of their dining table. A small voice in her head reminds her of the time they made out on his living room floor the first time she came over and got drunk. Nothing else had happened that night, and he initially refused to even kiss her for fear of taking advantage of their sobriety or the lack thereof but she convinced him that it would be compensation. In retrospect, she’s thankful that they didn’t take things further because that was definitely a night to remember, the memory still makes her blush. 
When he goes to freshen up in their washroom, she’s changing into her fluffiest pair of pyjamas and an old t-shirt of his. Her pyjamas thankfully came with pockets, and she quickly went over to her vanity and stuffed a tiny packet in. She’d had it for nearly two months now, but tonight was it. 
When they go back down and stuff their faces with chicken, the best in all of North America, babe, as he says, she keeps looking over at him. He finally looks relaxed after months, he’d been frustrated trying to write new songs on the road and when he thought he had things figured out, he jumped straight into the studio to bring them to life. Essentially, he hadn’t given himself a break, which had led to a fight between the two of them. She’d been patient and tried to talk things out so as to not resort to a screaming match, but he refused to listen. Probably the Leo in him. 
The most she could convince him to do was be home before 1 AM. His girlfriend imposed a curfew on him, and he darn well follow it if he still wanted to have a girlfriend. 
Seeing him eat his meal while happily chatting about his day, she kept thinking of how perfect her life felt at the minute. When they popped champagne and he insisted they drink straight from the bottle, she thought of the few flaws of his she’d learned over the years and how she could bear to romanticise them if it meant she got to keep him forever. She couldn’t think of anyone else she’d rather be sat with on her living room floor, tipsy off the bubbly and munching on fresh cheesecake, stealing kisses in between. It felt right. 
He looked away from her to check his phone, text his friends back and she sets her phone on the closest console table to record the moment. Crawling back to him, she takes his fork and plate out of his hands and he smirks thinking she’s about to have the first round of the night right there. 
“Starting already, then?” He mumbles as he leans in to kiss up her neck when she scoffs and pushes him away lightly. “chill, horndog, I need to talk to you about something.”
He immediately straightens up, bracing himself for whatever is about to come. She runs her hand through his hair while his eyes cross the length of the room, knowing she sometimes needs a minute to collect her thoughts. When she inhales sharply, he knows she’s ready. 
He turns towards her so she knows she has his full attention, their hands intertwined and hanging between them. She purses her lips, sends a prayer up to God and begins.
“So um, the first time we spoke, I thought you were the dreamiest boy I’d ever seen. Um, I still think you are.” His heart warms at her being nervous, knowing she doesn’t have to be around him and tries to ignore the heat in his face. 
“See, we didn’t really know each other did we? So whatever little image I had of yours in my head was based on small talk and your devastatingly good lo- stop smiling, your below average looks, and how you desperately failed at trying to hit on me, but it it was only a matter of time till we got talking more often when you went away for tour - and I think I really appreciate it sometimes that your tours, like, no matter how long or short they are, they give us a chance to talk, you know?”
He’s not sure where this is going. The confusion is visible on his face but she keeps going. It’ll all be worth it. “Other couples don’t get to have that, Shawn. I know they’re always with each other and I know we’d both appreciate more time together when we’re physically together but being away from you makes me… introspect. It makes me want to learn things about you, it makes me want to know you because there’s never enough things to know about you, and the more I know, the more I love.” She moves closer now, cupping his cheeks and he leans into her hands, still confused as ever but letting her take what she needs from him. 
“After you came back from your first full length tour after we got together, I wrote in my journal that I would never take my time with you for granted.” His heart fluttered a little, writing in her journal meant making promises to herself, and she never went back on them. He’d never read any of her journals, he was nosy, yes, but not invasive. He wouldn’t break her trust like that. He also knew she wrote about him, he’d seen her peaking at him while writing, thinking he wouldn’t notice, but he did, he always did. 
“I’d never really had a serious relationship with anyone before you, you knew that. I mean, I just didn’t think I was special enough to hold someone down, or have my person, it just wasn’t plausible, right? And you know how Khalid said I never had someone to call my own, that was me pretty much my whole life, but then you swooped in with your guitar and you wanted to take me to all your favourite places and make me meet your friends and then you wanted to meet mine and by our third month together you started writing songs about me and I couldn’t believe that someone would want to write a song about me you know? Cause like I’m just me? But you did, a-”
“That was a lie.”
“What?”
“I didn’t write about you for the first time in our third month. I only told you that because I didn’t want to come off too strong, we were still pretty new to each other. But the first song I ever wrote about you was after our first date. Well, I started writing it after our first date but it was completed after you so painfully rejected me after the second one. I moped for a week straight, babe, you were pretty heartless.”
She doesn’t speak for a second, she doesn’t know what to say, really. Her speech that she prepared for this occasion was pretty self derogatory, she realised. And now he was throwing her off kilter, making her forget the script in mind.  “You wrote a song about me after the first time you took me out?” 
“Yeah,” he said resting his hand by her neck now and running his thumb over her cheek. His gaze grew softer, “And now I’ve written two whole albums about you. But they don’t feel enough. I don’t think they ever will be, honestly. I could write a thousand songs about you and they wouldn’t do you justice. I love you more than anything, I think I always have.”
And all of a sudden, she’s forgotten everything she wanted to say. She always did think she got lucky with him, she had a loving, caring boyfriend who respected her wishes no matter what and worked hard come hell or high water to make himself better at his art. She thought about how she was a part of his art, she thought about the one time he said that each time she proved to be his muse, the result was somewhat a tribute to their love. How fortunate could they be to have each other? And now, looking at him in the softest sleep shirt he had, a little loopy because of the champagne after a long day of working hard, there’s so much she wants to say. But the words don’t make themselves known, instead she blurts out - “Marry me.”
He smiles lightly, “Okay.”
“No for real, hold on,” she holds his shoulder to lean up, then steadies herself on one knee, pulling out the Carbon Fibre ring that had her heart since the first time she saw it, a solid black with two thin gold lines weaving around it. Her hand is held up between the two of them so he can see the ring, “Shawn Mendes, will you make me the happiest girl in the world, and marry me?”
Holy shit. He hasn’t proposed. 
It finally pieces together in his head. In this midst of finishing the album and planning the next step for his music, he’d forgotten to propose to her. But he swears he remembers doing it - or was it all in his head? He rushes to stand up mumbling no no no to himself and her eyes follow follow him around, her hand lowering as the fear of the worst takes over. No?
At once his head looks upwards, where their room is, and he runs off. She can’t quite grasp what just happened. She flips the ring over in her hand, finding the tiny engraving of their initials on the inside of the 22K band, thinking of the day she was so happy to have found it, and how it was probably for nothing now. Why would he say no?
They’d talked about marriage so openly, he was the one who kept bringing it up - so why run away now? Was he not ready? Or had he changed his mind? Was it too soon? Or too late? Did he not want marriage anymore? She felt tears sting her eyes - did he not want her anymore? That wasn’t possible was it? He literally just told her he loved her - or did he not actually mean it? Why would he say it if he didn’t mean it? Did this mean they were over now?
She looked over to where she had propped up her phone earlier, the video still recording. She had plans of adding this clip into her next video, after their trip to the Portugal next month. She had wanted to record her proposal instead she may have just recorded their breakup, now that would get her some views, huh?
Upstairs, Shawn let out an aha! finally finding the small velvet box that he had stored away carefully - so carefully that he needed to empty out half his drawer to find it again. He bounded down the stairs, screaming BABY THIS WAS WHAT I WAS FORGETTING only to find her kneeling on the floor right where he left her. She looked small and sad, stray tears finding their way down her cheeks. 
“Baby w-what’s wrong?”
She didn’t notice the velvet box in his hand till he kneeled down in front of her. “I thought you said no… I thought you didn’t want this - what’s that, Shawn?”
He claps a hand over his forehead, frustrated with himself for upsetting her so much and so quick. “I just happen to be stupid, babe, I’m sorry, I forgot to propose.” Then he’s flipping open the box, throwing it back to let it land somewhere on the carpet after having taken the diamond ring out. It’s the exact width she likes, the exact cut she likes, and it is so beautiful. 
“How do you forget-”
“But! I am doing it now! I may be stupid but you’re the one who chose to stick by me so that makes two of us! Please marry me?”
“I asked you first.”
“God, yes that’s all I ever wanted, yes yes - a thousand times, love,” he rushes to kiss her, and she smiles into it again, pulling away and slipping the ring onto his finger. 
He’s the one who’s teary eyed now, a wet smile growing bigger and bigger. “It’s so beautiful, doll, I love you.”  She kisses him again, once, twice, she would’ve done more but he pulls away again. “Okay, your turn now - what’s the answer?”
“Hmm… I don’t know I mean you did forget to propose after all…” he stares at her for a second before saying humming and attacking her with tickles. She squeals out falling to the floor in a fit of giggles, trying and failing to fight him off. “Not gonna stop till you say yes, doll.”
He’s laughing, too, clearly enjoying her misery. He hears her let out a breathy little yes while he’s still running his fingers up her sides. “What’s that? Did you hear something? Because I didn’t!”
“Yes, sheesh YES I WILL MARRY YOU, SHAWN! Please stop!” He pulls her up, quickly slipping on the ring and gathering her in his arms, burying his face into her neck, finally crying out freely. Everything felt complete, finally, he couldn’t wait to start this new stage of his life with her. He was going to be a married man soon, nobody pinch him. 
“Wait,” she speaks, pushing him away a bit so she can see his face, “Is this why you kept talking about the wedding? You were talking about our wedding this whole time?”
“Yes, I know I get it I’m forgetful! I guess, I was so caught up in what was happening and what I wanted that I mixed the two.” He sighs, a little hazy after the sharp turn of events in the night. “Wow, I wish we had recorded this, I can’t believe you thought I said no to you, baby who do you think I am?”
“Already one step ahead of you - say hi to the camera!” She grins, pointing to her phone next to them. He lets out an of course you would and she only laughs in response and he decides that he needs to hear that for the rest of the life if possible. He looks into the camera and sees an image of them both looking like a hot mess, kneeling in the middle of their living room, faces flushed and eyes bright because of the cry fest that just took place. 
“Hi guys, we’re engaged!” And she lets out a yelp showing off her hand to the screen. “Shawn Mendes isn’t my boyfriend anymore, he’s my fiancé! There should be a new filter!”
“Wait, does this mean we get cocoa at our wedding now?”
__________________
taglist: @shawnwyr​ @mendesstories​ @lanallaa​ @sleepybesson​ @rulerofnocountry​ @luvluvxx​ @wholesomemendes
dm to be added or removed ♥️
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pinkykitten · 4 years ago
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boyfriend and girlfriend outing
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- anonymous Hello, Ki!! 😊💖 Can I request a Lance Mcclain (Voltron) x shy female human reader fluffy oneshot about they are going to the swimsuit shopping at space mall? 🥰🥰💖💖 How would Lance reacts to shy female human reader trying on/modeling swimsuit for him? 🥰😂🤣💖 I really love to see Lance is blushing mess near her!!! 🥰🥰💖💖
- anonymous Can I request a Voltron fluffy oneshot about how would Lance Mcclain reacts to his shy female human reader wears his jacket? 🥰🥰💖 I bet he will be blushing mess to her cuteness, haha. 😂🤣💖 Bonus: fluff/general prompts #2: “aw, you’re so cute.” (only Lance) and #22: “i love you.” (only reader) 🥰💖 Please??😁😁💖  prompt(s):  “aw, you’re so cute.”  “i love you.” 
pairing: lance mcclain x female! reader words: 1,602 genre: fluff, romance, comedy, requested, prompt, one-shot
a/n: sorry guys i have written in a while ive been soooo busy atm so hopefully i can write more for you guys. its been a minute since ive written for vld and i so totally miss it esp my cuban bby. yes we all can agree it ended like poo but thats why moi is here to help w canon and make it a thousand times better bc im a miracle worker duh. ty guys fr for reading my stuff, following and reblogging my stories i really appreciate it. 
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It was in order- in your mind to take time off for yourself. Getting up every morning at 5 to train hard your mind and body. All you wanted was one day to enjoy having fun and being a teenager. 
You giggled at your pathetic bucket list. To think on yours it would say go out to a mall or market when back on earth that was something so insignificant and so easy to accomplish. But you hadn’t done something exciting and something for yourself in a while. 
You practically begged Shiro to let you to go to the mall today. After much butting he finally gave in. You knew pouting your lip out and whining almost like a puppy would do the trick. 
You didn’t waste time in getting dressed and doing your makeup. You wanted to look fierce on your day out. 
A knock was heard on your bedroom door. 
“Where are you going?” Lance, your boyfriend raised his brow as he stood by your doorway, arms crossed. He was a bit jealous that you were going out looking so hot and you hadn’t invited him. 
“I’m going to the mall,” you applied lipstick. 
“Without me?” He pouted. 
You chuckled and went to hug him, squeezing hard. “What are you waiting for then? Get ready? We’re having a date.”
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Going into the mall- it already made a huge smile on your face. The smells reminded you of home. Food, perfumes, creams, the clothing were of different colors and of different alien races customs. It was like a walking into a whole different world. 
Lance giggled as he saw your face and scooped you up, kissing all over your cheeks. “Aw, you’re so cute, you know that. What do you want to try first?”
You sniffed the air and couldn’t get rid of a cinnamon smell. As you went onward you saw what that smell was. 
“Doughnuts!” You were almost salivating. Grabbing Lance’s hand you raced to the stand. 
You and Lance shared a huge doughnut and Lance smudged some frosting onto your face. You tried pushing him away and all he did was tickle you. It was like a fight and as much of a flaco he was he still got a hold of you. 
“I’m gonna get you Lance,” you gave a hearty laugh. 
You climbed on Lance’s back and ordered him like a pony to go to the arcade. There were so many games there your eyes lit up with the bright neon lights and colors. 
“I want to try this.” It was a game of getting a hammer and hitting mini Prince Lotor’s. You and Lance were up against each other and of course you won. 
“You cheated,” Lance pointed an accusatory finger at you. 
You stuck your tongue out, “you just suck.”
Lance rolled his eyes and walked away pretending he didn’t know you. 
You guys hopped on a motorcycle game, Lance went first and you jumped in his lap and he taught you how to play. 
Next, was the perfume store. You bathed Lance in cologne as he twirled around, and rubbed himself on you. 
As you were walking onward you spotted a swim suit store. You were fighting with yourself if you should go or not because you were a bit shy around Lance but you decided to go because you would probably never come back again. 
“Let’s go in this store please,” you asked shyly. 
Lance didn’t want to show it too much but he was so excited to see how beautiful you would look in swim suits, especially bikinis. He saw how much you wanted to go in and he couldn’t and would never say no.
“Of course gorgeous,” he smirked and acted all charming. 
“You sit here and wait,” you pushed him onto the couch in the waiting room and fled to each aisle, picking up the ones you wanted. 
The store owner waved her tentacles around and glanced at Lance, “are you here for you?”
“It’s actually for my girlfriend.” He said proudly. “She’s special.” 
“Alright Lance,” you sang as you brought them in the room and tried one on. “This one I call Florida weather.”
You jumped out and the one piece had oranges on it. You modeled and pretended to peel an orange and eat it. 
Lance clapped and nodded his head, “that’s so cute!”
“Next!” You shimmied your way in the room again and put on a swimsuit that was adorned with a skirt and it was bedazzled. It looked so trashy and made for a grandma. It was the furthest thing away from sexy. You chuckled as you looked at your reflection. Lance was really going to love this. “What do you think about this one babe? I think this will be your favorite.”
“Let me see girl!” Lance bounced on the souls of his feet in anticipation.
“Tada!” You danced out, shaking your hips. “My name is abuelita.”
Lance was surprised to say the least but he clutched his stomach, bending over laughing. “Oh my God, you do!”
“Do you think this is flattering?” You strut your stuff and flung your leg out like a show girl. 
“I still think you look great sweetheart.” Lance grabbed your hips and kissed your lips.
Lance was the perfect boyfriend to you. Even though you looked like an old lady from the 80s, Lance thought you still looked perfect and that made you have fireworks in your tummy. He always knew what to say. “Alright, but I got one more!” You ran back to your room and lifted up the dark blue bikini. Was your body perfect? No. Did you care? No. You thought you were beautiful in your size and no body was perfect. It was for you and Lance loved you no matter what. As you pulled the straps up, you checked yourself out in the mirror. “Perfect.”
“Are you done baby?”
“Yes, I think you’re going to really love this one.” The beating of your heart was rapid as you thought of his opinions. Would he like it? You tiptoed out of the room and rubbed your arm sheepishly. “Do you like it?”
Lance was flabbergasted. Not because he never thought you would look that way but because of how perfect and beautiful you were. He was star struck. His eyes widened and shined bright like jewels. His mouth was wide open. His heart grew more large for the love he felt for you. You were his baby! 
“Well!” You crossed your arm, beginning to feel shy and bashful at his loss for words. 
Lance covered his mouth, “And I have the audacity to live.”
You shook your head as you giggled like a girl with her crush. It was kind of true he was your crush but he was also your boyfriend so you scored. Lance was so extra!
“My baby is so sexy oh my God!” He shouted so loud- everyone in the store glanced over your guys way.
“So this one is a buy?” 
“Heck ya! I’m buying this for you babe. You look so smokin in this like por tu madre, my girl gonna look good!”
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As you both were walking out to go back to the ship. It was night time already and the sky was a dark purple. The stars looked like diamonds sprinkled on a painting. It made you have a warm feeling in your tummy to know that you were one of the many brave souls that traveled up there to save lives. The air was cool and the trees swayed in the wind. 
Hand in hand with Lance, you walk on the cobblestone, trying to balance as you place one foot in front of the other. The wind that blows by makes you shake and shiver. Goosebumps rise on your skin and Lance takes notice. 
“Baby, you’re cold?”
You didn’t want to seem weak so you shook your head. “No, I’m okay. Just the wind.”
Lance looked the other way, shy, as he stripped his jacket off and enveloped you in the warmth. 
You loved cuddling with it, the soft inside fabric tickled your cheek, and it smelled of his perfect self. You tried to hug the jacket subtly without his detection but Lance saw and became a bashful mess. You bit the inside of your cheek, not looking into his eyes because of your embarrassment. “It’s so warm,” your lips turned into a small, satisfied smile. 
“It looks amazing on you,” Lance said breathless. 
“Oh wait!” You paused as you sprinted to an open field.
“What are you doing, Y/N?” 
After a few minutes you ran back to Lance. 
“What did you do?”
You brought out a daisy, kissed it, and gave it to Lance. “A present for you, my Lance.”
Lance couldn’t contain his love for you. He lifted you up and twirled you in his arms. “You are defiantly my girl.” He put you on his back as you both traveled back to the ship. 
On his back, you hugged him tightly, nuzzling into his hair, kissing the back of his neck. “I love you.” You whispered your heart and soul into his ear. 
“I love you princess.” Lance kissed your hands as you started drifting off to the rocking of his steps. His breathing a peaceful melody in your ear. You needed the day to get out and have fun and just be you with Lance. As the day was ending your smile became wide as you thought about how perfect this day was and it was with the most perfect boy. 
55 notes · View notes
your-kpopmama · 4 years ago
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Last Christmas
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A/N: heyooooooooo so I haven’t written something in god knows how long but uh, here’s a fun story from the I Like You A Latte universe. It’s kind of alternate universe where Yoongi and Y/N never worked together and this is their little beginning story. So anyway, here is a Christmas gift from me to you..
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Word Count: 4,330 Genre: fluffy with smut. its like half smut. there wasn’t supposed to be any but it happened and I’m sorry. READ I LIKE YOU A LATTE HERE
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The atmosphere of the coffee shop was always welcoming and warm. You didn’t get to come out often and enjoy yourself, but when you did, this was your go to spot. God knows how long it’s been since you actually stopped in though. In lieu of coming here, you had taken to tar like coffee from gas stations on the way home or Jimin’s overly sweet coffee he made every morning. You missed this place. Something about the dim lighting and freshly baked goods always on display with the warm scent of coffee beans permeating the air, seemed to calm you down. Not to mention the staff had always been energetic and could put a smile on your face no matter what kind of sour mood you came in with.
Today was no exception, you had a large marketing meeting on the game you and Jungkook had developed over the last year and a half. Blood, sweat, and tears were poured into this project and you finally were ready to send your baby out into the world. It wouldn’t have been so nerve wracking if your last game hadn’t been a flop. Granted it was a gift for your team, and was never meant to be seen by other players, but Taehyung had insisted that it be put up as an indie title. It sunk nearly to the bottom of the “free to play” due to it’s low scores, and it damaged your self esteem a bit. Looking back you can definitely see why it got the ratings it did, but your team loved it and that’s all that mattered to you.
Reaching down into your bag, you pulled out your laptop and turned it on. While you waited for it to load, you went back to the counter to order a latte. The overly friendly red head who worked there all but bounced to the counter to take your order.
“Hey, don’t I know you?” He asked, leaning slightly in to peer at your face.
“Uh, maybe?” You said cautiously.
A hand flew from nowhere and slapped the red head on the arm, “Hoseok, please do not lean over my perfectly clean counters. And refrain from getting into the young lady’s face.” a tall man with black shaggy hair poked his head around the dessert case. His large brown eyes were narrowed in Hoseok’s direction. It would have been intimidating, but the fact that he had flour plastered on his right cheek, took away the effect he was hoping to have.
“Sorry, Jin.” Hoseok said sheepishly.
“And you do know her.” Jin added before ducking back behind the desserts to arrange them more neatly.
“He does?”
“I do?”
You and Hoseok questioned at the same time, wearing the same confused faces. “Mm. She used to be a regular.” He said distractedly before smiling in triumph at his work. “It’s been what, a year since you’ve been in?” He asked with a polite smile.
You bit your bottom lip in thought, has it been that long since you’ve been here? You honestly couldn’t remember. How long have you holed yourself up in your shared apartment? Nodding slightly to confirm his question, you looked a bit embarrassed for not even remembering. “I’d have to agree. It has been a while since I’ve been here.”
“Glad to have a customer back, then. I hope it wasn’t our coffee or desserts that drove you away.” Jin beamed and leaned his elbow on top of the case full of sweets.
Your hand flew the back of your neck in embarrassment, “ah, not at all!” You spit out, “actually I just got really busy and didn’t have much time to enjoy myself.” You explained, wondering why you were even explaining.
“Mm, that’s right. I remember you used to come in here and study. Are you still in school?” Jin questioned further, your eyes catching Hoseok step away from the counter to busy himself with your order.
“No, I graduated a year ago. I’ve been working on a project for the company I work for,” you smiled in appreciation to Hoseok as he slid your drink across the counter, “I am a game developer.”
Jin’s eyebrows shot up and he had an impressed look on his face, “that’s pretty cool. Will it be anything big we may hear of?”
You blushed at the thought of one of your games actually making it big, “I don’t know yet. I have to pitch the game first before our developer decides what kind of marketing it will get.”
“Well, whenever your meeting is, I’ll be rooting for you!” Jin smiled so his eyes turned into little crescents and you felt a wave of warmth flush through you. Typically when you told people what you did, it usually ended up with them scoffing or laughing in your face. Hardly any support came from your family, and your housemates were the only ones who really had your back through it all. However, the kind words of an almost stranger, welled you with confidence you needed.
Picking up your mug, you uttered a quick thank you before Jin turned to leave. Before you could turn away though, a figure stepping out of the back caught your attention. Blonde hair that was pushed under a black cap, with a handsome but almost pretty face looked back at you. Long, thin fingers stopped in their quest to tie a black apron around a thin waist. You felt the smile drop from your face as images began to flash in your mind.
Hands on your abdomen, mapping out every curve and swell of your body. Lips, hungry for more as they devoured your own. Hot breath brushing across your breasts.
Snapping out of your daydream you quickly turned to escape, hoping to God, that wasn’t who you thought it was. Even after a year, you could still remember that face clearly. Those eyes that stared into your soul, but were kind and loving.
“Shit..” you muttered. You didn’t dare to glance back just to double check. Instead you made it your one and only goal to get back to your seat and get to work on fine tuning your presentation. After all, it was what you came here for. You needed the peace and quiet, and you’d be damned if you risked it.
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Saving your work, you breathed a sigh of relief as your arms stretched above your head, popping your stiff joints. It was finally done. Officially. Your project proposal was turned in and you fine tuned everything until nothing more could be done. You felt accomplished and proud.
Tapping quickly on your phone screen, you see three and a half hours had passed by. “Shit!” You exclaimed, quickly shutting your laptop down and stuffing everything into your bag. You pulled on your coat and slung your bag over your shoulder before picking up your empty mug and returning it to the counter.
“Oh, wait!” Someone exclaimed from behind you. You glanced over your shoulder to see the black haired man rushing towards you with a paper bag in his hand. “This is for you, dear.” He handed you the decorative bag with a smile.
“Thanks! How much do I owe?” You looked down and began rummaging in your bag for some cash.
“It’s on the house.” Jin replied with a sly smile.
“Oh..well thank you.” you returned his smile but an uneasy feeling sat in the put of your stomach.
“Don’t thank me,” he winked, “but you seem to be in a hurry so you best be on your way.” He shooed you with his hands as you suddenly remembered you did have somewhere to be an hour ago. You spun on your heel with a quick goodbye and headed out the glass doors into the cool night air.
After two bus transfers you were finally back at the apartment. Flipping the keypad open, you could already hear the angry yelling from inside and you braced yourself before pushing open the door.
"I'm home!" you shouted from the entry way, making a beeline straight for your room before your three roommates could stop what they were doing and make their way to you. You were almost safe until a foot in the doorway stopped you from closing the bedroom door all the way.
"A little late, huh, Y/N?" Taehyung's voice called sweetly from behind you. A quick glance over your shoulder revealed him to be standing there with a smirk plastered on his face as his arms crossed over his chest.
"A little." you said meekly.
"That's dinner on the house. We ordered a lot of food, so you can take care of the bill when it gets here." he said, still with the smirk ever present on his gorgeous face.
"Of course, of course. Can I close my door now? I want to get changed and logged in so we can raid." you tried to usher him from your doorway but he pushed himself inside.
"I wanted to stay though," he pouted while flopping across your messy bed.
You sighed and walked over to him and grabbed him by the wrist and pulled on him, gesturing for him to leave, "You know you can't. Get out."
"I'm gay, it's totally okay." he tried to reason.
"It's not though, get out." you tried to pull on him again but he was as stubborn as ever. "Hey," you had an idea, "I have a pastry in that bag over there and it's all yours if you get the hell out of my room."
That perked him right up, and in one swift motion he was off your bed and grabbing the bag and out of the door before you even had a chance to blink. Sighing with relief you locked your door and undressed quickly, changing into a pair of plain sweats and a hoodie.
Your chair creaked under your weight as you hurridly plopped in the seat to log in to the game so you could do some raids with the guild. MMORPG's weren't usually on your list of games to play, but Jimin played it once and got everyone to play with him and now you all were hopelessly hooked on them. It was a nice change of pace from the shoot and run games you usually played.
"NO FUCKING WAY!" you heard Taehyung screech from down the hall in his room, causing your to jump up from your chair and run towards your bedroom door. As you were pulling it open, Taehyung was pushing it in.
"No. Fucking. Way." he repeated, his eyes literally sparkling and a big lopsided grin on his face.
"What? What's wrong?" you asked, quickly looking him over to make sure he hadn't hit his head and completely lost his mind.
At that moment, Jimin and Jungkook showed up behind Taehyung, looking concerned for their tall friend who stood before you. Slowly, Taehyung began to raise his hand with a bright yellow post-it note in it. He held it in front of your face and it took you a solid three seconds to let your eye focus on the perfectly written words on the paper.
"Please call me, +82 32 0000 0000, Yoongi." you mumbled the words outloud.
Two gasps came from behind Taehyung and you suddenly realized what that note meant. "Where the hell did you get this?" you said ripping it from Taehyung's hands.
"In the pastry bag." Taehyung said as a matter of fact.
"Yoongi. THE YOONGI?!" Jimin screeched, slapping the ever living hell out of Jungkook's arm in excitement.
"Fuck, I seriously thought he didn't recognize me." you groaned and slapped yourself in the face to make sure this was real life, and unfortunately, it was.
Yoongi was to say the least, the best you ever had; the only you ever had. It happened during your last big game you had. You had won the tournament and had gotten a full exposé in a gaming magazine with the guys. You met Yoongi that whole week they were pulling you in for interviews.  He had been with the caterers and special made you coffee every morning complete with cute little drawings on bright yellow post-it notes.
After that week ended, you didn't see him for almost six whole months until you ran into him again on Christmas Eve. The two of you happened to be drinking your sorrows and stress away at a bar and ended up going home together after talking for a few hours.
Yoongi was the most gentle when it came to having sex. You had been nervous and fairly sober by time the act was actually happening, and in your awkward embarassment you had told him it was your first time and he made it as special as one could make it. It wasn't just the way that he made love, but the way he actually took his time and made sure you were comfortable the whole experience.
When the morning came, you had every intentions on staying for a while, but you had overheard him arguing with a woman at his front door and heard things you felt you shouldn't have heard - he had a girlfriend.
In your embarassment you gathered your clothes and slipped out through the patio and climbed over the small fence and did the walk of shame all the way to your apartment in the snow. When you had got home, Taehyung was coming in from his own night out and saw you and immediately went beserk when you told him what happened. It took a few hours to talk him down from going over there and beating Yoongi up for what happened. But even you didn't know the situation fully and didn't want to make accusations.
After that day you had become a recluse at home with your work and since Yoongi didn't have your contact information, neither one of you heard from each other again. Until today.
"Fuck, I can't believe he had the audacity to leave his number like that. Like you would even call him." Taehyung scoffed.
"I think she should call him." Jimin added from behind Taehyung.
"I agree." Jungkook said absently while he looked down at his phone.
You could almost hear the eye roll that Taehyung gave without even looking at him. Jimin and Jungkook weren't completely wrong though, you really should clear everthing up. You had really liked Yoongi and fantasized about him often, especially when you were feeling rather lonely.
Taehyung sighed and handed the post-it not over and left with a quick 'be careful' before he dragged the other two down the hallway with him. Closing your door, you walked over to your bed and sat at the foot of it, debating if you were really going to call him. Deciding to just do it, you dialed his number quickly and hit 'call' and held the phone nervously to your ear.
"Hello?" his lazy voice came through the phone.
"Yoongi? Hey, it's Y/N. I got your note."
A split second of silence was followed by what sounded like a relieved sigh, "Thank you for calling me. I know it's kind of sudden, but I get off work in about an hour, can you meet me?"
"Yeah, sure. Where?" your chest felt tight.
"My apartment. Do you remember where it is?"
"Yeah."
"Alright, awesome. I will see you soon." you could hear the smile in his voice.
You hung up quickly and dropped your phone in your lap and took a deep breath to settle your beating heart. It would take about 50 minutes to get to the other side of town at this time of day so you figured you had better get going.
Slipping on a pair of sneakers and grabbing your coat, you headed to the kitchen to let everyone know you were heading out.
"You're going dressed like that?" Jungkook scrutinized from his chair at the table.
"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" you shot back, looking down at your comfortable outfit.
"At least dress up for the dick you're about to get." he snorted.
Not willing to start that argument with him, you threw a banana from the counter at him and left in a huff, leaving behind three cackling men.
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You didn't have to wait long for Yoongi when you arrived at his apartment. By time he showed up his cheeks and nose were bright red from the cold. He had a small smile on his face when he walked over to you to let you into the apartment.
"Thanks for coming on short notice." he said. You watched him pull his warm layers off one by one until he was left in his work uniform.
"Mm." you were unsure of what to say as you stood awkwardly in his living room. He could sense your hesitation of the whole situatioon and took note of you looking around the room as if you were actually looking for something and not just avoiding eye contact.
"So, I wanted to talk about what happened." Wow. Straight to it. "I feel like I did something wrong last time, and it's been killing me because I am unsure of what it was. I thought we got along pretty nicely, but maybe I was wrong?"
"You had a girlfriend." you could be straightforward too.
"I- I'm sorry what?" he choked out.
Taking a deep breath to steel your feelings in case you were about to be let down, you recanted your story of the morning you snuck out of his apartment like some lame criminal. He watched you and listened intently trying to hide a smile, but it didn't go unnoticed.
"Is something funny?" you huffed.
"No. I didn't have a girlfriend. Well, sorry that would be a lie. I did have a girlfriend and that girl that was here, was in fact my girlfriend at one point, but we had been broken up for a while. I'm not sure what kind of guy you take me for but I would never do something like what we did if I was already with someone." he tried to assure you.
"Oh. Well, I feel stupid." feeling your cheeks heat up from embarassment you tried to fix your eyes on anything but Yoongi's face.
"Yes, well, I was too. I had the means to contact you but I was too scared. I thought I had really done something horrible."
You both sat there in silence for a few minutes thinking about how dumb you both were. Yoongi walked slowly over to you, his hand reaching out. “I’m really sorry for what happened. I know it’s not an excuse, but I really didn’t know she would show up like that. She had a rough time since we broke up even though it was a mutual decision.” He tried to explain.
“No, it’s really okay, Yoongi.” You smiled and tried to comfort him, “for the record though I don’t regret what happened. You made it a very special occasion for me.”
Yoongi slipped his hand into yours slowly, and intertwined your fingers, pulling you to him. Letting his other hand trail slowly up your arm, to your neck, then to your cheek while he leaned in and kissed you slowly. The kiss was just as soft as you remembered it from a year ago. Everything about this man was gentle.
Letting your hands settle on his hips, you pushed yourself closer into the kiss; into him. Your heart was already beating eractically in your chest just from a simple kiss. Pushing gently, you felt his legs hit the couch and pushed him down. Taking charge, you straddled his lap while his hands guided your hips to a more comfortable position. Your hands found their way to his perfectly round cheeks and held his face while you fought the urge to devour him right then and there.
You could already feel the bulge pressing into you and you ground down on his hips, pulling a soft moan from him. He pulled back to look up at you and smile, recirpocating the movement of grinding up into you. Sucking in a breath, the two of you continued that little game for several minutes. His hands trailed up inside of your shirt, up your ribcage and further up to pull your hoodie off. His lips went straight to your chest and began planting small kisses over every inch of skin he could find.
Without even realizing it, he had unclasped your bra with one hand and pulled the lacy garment down with his teeth, his mouth immediately finding the soft round bud on your breast and sucking  on it.
"Ahh.." you moaned, pushing your chest out just a little farther.
While his mouth worked on one nipple, his hand came up to the other and began to squeeze it gently and roll the sensitive bud between his fingers. You ground your hips down harder on his dick that you could assume was painfully strained in his pants.
Without warning, his hands went behind your knees and he flipped you so you were laying on your back on the couch. In one swift motion he pulled his shirt off over his head and discarded it somewhere behind the couch. Yoongi went directly back to your breasts, licking and sucking.
Allowing your hands to roam on his torso, you felt your way down his muscled chest to the top of his pants. Popping the button open quickly and all but shoving your hand down the waistband of his pants. Your hand found its target. Gripping Yoongi’s dick gently you began to pump him slowly.
“Fuuck..” his voice deep and husky against your skin. Before you knew it, Yoongi’s hands gripped the waistband of your sweats and pulled them down along with your underwear, leaving you completely exposed to him. You let go of him in shock.
His eyes roamed over your body slowly, appreciating what was in front of him. His long fingers gripped into your thighs and spread your legs apart and he quickly ducked down and began licking your pussy. Slow, teasing licks causing your breathing to speed up slightly.
One finger slid inside.
Then a second one.
He put the full attention of his mouth and tongue to your clit while his fingers worked their magic elsewhere. It didn’t take long for that sweet release to build up in the pit of your stomach.
“Ah, Yoongi..I’m-“ his fingers sped up ever so slightly and curled inward, hitting you just right and causing your orgasm to push through you.
“Holy fuck!” You raised your hand to your mouth and covered it while Yoongi continued what he was doing. Your legs were trembling but it felt too good to stop him.
You gazed down at him and caught him staring up at you from between your legs, if you hadn’t just came, you probably would again from that look alone.
Suddenly his fingers were gone from inside of you and inside of his mouth. He moaned and closed his eyes, tasting you on his fingers.
As much as you loved how gentle he was, you couldn’t take it anymore. You leaned up and pushed him back so he was sitting up. You made quick work of removing the rest of his clothing and straddling his lap. You could feel his dick pushing against you and it sent a shudder through your body.
It didn’t take too much adjusting before he was pushing into you. The feeling of his cock inside of your pussy was almost enough to send you over the edge again. Both of you moaned in pleasure, heartbeats picking up.
His hands found their way to your ass and you took that as a sign to go. However, leaving you without a chance to do anything about it, Yoongi began fucking up into you. His hips, slamming into you and the lewd sounds of skin slapping skin began to fill the small living room along with your combined moaning.
“Ah, you feel so fucking good.” Yoongi grunted, his eyes on yours, refusing to look away.
You settled with a nod in response because you knew you couldn’t reply with words. Instead you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him close to you and his thrusting got faster and harder.
A quick slap of his hand across your ass brought forth a yelp from your lips, “shit, shit, shit, fuck this feels so good.” You whined in his ear.
It gave him the notion to fuck into you harder, and that feeling began welling up inside of you again. “Yoongi~.” You moaned.
“C’mon baby.” He groaned.
That’s all it took to send another shockwave through your body. Your arms held him tighter to you while he continued to fuck you through your second orgasm. His hips getting sloppier and more desperate, quickly he was brought to his own orgasm.
“God damn.” He grunted through it, his forehead pressed into your shoulder while his hips stilled.
You both relaxed into the couch together, still in your close position, not able to move.
“That was nice.” You muttered.
“More than nice. God, I’ve been thinking about that for a year.” He admitted with a small laugh.
Both of you fell into a comfortable silence, and it wasn’t long before you thought he had fallen asleep. You leaned back to gaze at him and he was staring at you in wonder.
“What are your plans for Christmas Eve?” He asked suddenly.
“Oh, I’m not sure. Why?”
“Would you like to spend it with me?”
You smiled and nodded, “and don’t worry. It won’t be like last Christmas. I won’t disappear.”
He laughed and smiled widely, “Good.”
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22 notes · View notes
captainscanadian · 5 years ago
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Better | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Part 10) - FINALE
My Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9
Summary: Things may have gotten better but you still need YOUR family...
Word Count: 9442
Pairing: Doctor!Bucky x Doctor!Reader, Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter (mentioned), Rebecca Barnes, Winnifred Barnes
Warnings: Swearing, Surgery, Organ Donation, Nudity, Cancer, Death Mention, William Shakespeare (check sparknotes if you would like but I just could not bother translating that shit!)
A/N: This is the first series that I have completed and I must say, I feel so damn accomplished. As I have said before, Better is a fic that is extremely close to my heart because of how personal it is to me. I loved writing every bit of it, even the angst and the fluff. I appreciate all the love that I got for this fic, with Better!Bucky stealing everyone’s hearts and the headcanons you all sent me when I felt really inspired to dive more into this little universe that I had created. We have two epilogues left so this isn’t goodbye. But thank you to @dramadreamer14​ for being the one who got me started on here and for keeping me going until the end of the line (I HAD TO!). You’re the realest, Naynay! This one’s for you! <3
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The steam that arose from the hot shower still lingered around the bathroom, the condensation clouding up the mirror as you stood in front of it. Fresh out of the shower and still in the nude, you took a moment to stare at the plain reflection of your delicate body. You watched as a drop of water trickled down your neck before reaching your sternum. Under your right breast was the waterproof dressing that kept covered the now restored masterpiece of Dr. Peter Parker. You could not help but run your fingers over the patch for a moment. These stitches should start dissolving soon.  
Natasha had told you that since your incision had reopened and had to have been stitched up again, you might have a scar on your abdomen for the rest of your life; it was a constant reminder of your sacrifice and the trauma that you had to endure. Not that you minded, really. After all, this scar was also a reminder of you finally opening yourself up to your James.  
The creaking noise of the door snapped you out of your thoughts for a moment and you noticed Bucky Barnes enter the bathroom. “I told you not to get out of the shower until I got back, doll.” He scolded you when he saw you standing in front of the mirror, shaking his head at your reflection as he wrapped the clean bath robe over your shoulder.
You gave him a small smile as you felt your cheeks heat up, looking down at your feet as the drops of water continued to trickle down your bare legs. You could not remember the last time you had managed to shave; it must have been a few days before your surgery. But with your lack of mobility when showering, you had not even bothered to make the effort. For the sake of not soaking your stitches, you had been avoiding taking a bath like the plague. While the shower had definitely helped with maintaining the cleanliness, the sutures in your body prevented you from bending over in order to shave.
Not that Bucky minded though. He was never one to believe in the social constructs of what made someone attractive, especially not with you. His common sense and medical knowledge combined were reason enough for him to know that hair growth was a natural bodily function within women and that shaving should not be a priority to someone who’s currently recovering from a partial liver transplant. He had ensured that you had no reason to feel insecure about that.  
This would be the fourth day he had helped you out of the shower, the fourth time he had seen you completely naked and not made a big deal out of it. As a surgeon, he had seen it all during his decade on the job. But even though you were not his patient, even if you were the love of his life, he was not one to lose his self control and dignity just because you had stood before him unclothed. He understood that you were healing and he was caring for you. It was as simple as that.
He grabbed a clean towel from the rack and handed it to you so that you could dry yourself off. “Nat said that she’ll take a look at your stitches when she comes over tomorrow, just to see if they’re dissolving as they should be.” He told you, his head held low to the tiled bathroom floor. He would not even dare to steal a glance of your naked body without your consent. “I’ll let you get dried off.”
Before he could step out of the bathroom, you quickly grabbed his wrist. “James.” You gave him a soft smile as you stepped forward, leaning in slightly to peck his lips. “Thank you.”
He cocked his eyebrow slightly, giving you a look of confusion that was followed by a soft chuckle. “Get dried off so that I can change your dressing, okay? I’ll get started on breakfast.”
You gave him a nod as you watched him walk out of the bathroom, a sigh of contentment escaping your lips as you turned back to look at your reflection in the mirror. With the fog now cleared up, you could finally see yourself smiling and you began to dry yourself off.
While you were getting dressed, Bucky managed to strip and make your bed before making his way to the kitchen. He got started on making your breakfast, as he had been doing for the last few days. He would say that he was a decent cook for the most part. Having lived alone for all these years, he did have to learn how to make his own meals. However, in recent years with his added workload and unpredictable schedule, not to mention the financial stability, he had hired a personal chef to prep his meals for him while he was away.
His lunches and dinners had always been prepped and stored in his refrigerator by his professional meal prepper every week. But ever since you had come to stay with him, he had contacted the chef and made changes to his usual menu to include your dietary requirements as per Natasha’s instructions. While the fridge had been stored with pre-prepared meals of salmon and broccoli or an avocado salad for you, breakfast was always his thing.
Bucky always prepared you a bowl of oatmeal topped with fresh berries and some freshly steeped green tea, all of which were on the top of Natasha’s list of foods that were good for the liver. As he had learned recently, you were not that fond of the taste of grapefruit though you preferred a glass of cranberry juice with your dinner as replacement for wine. In the last four days, he had become quite fond of all of your weird quirks – from the temperature of the water when you shower to the way you ate your broccoli first before digging into the salmon, he liked all of it.
You got dressed into an oversized nightshirt that MJ had picked out for you after realizing that your closet was rather lacking of clothes that are comfortable enough for someone who’s just had surgery. It was lose around your body, covering a lot more skin compared to a hospital gown but also easy to breathe in. You pulled your dressing gown over your body as you made your way over to the kitchen. Bucky’s apartment was fairly too big for one person alone, with a breathtaking view of the river right outside of his living room window. It was roomy. The guest bedroom itself was three times as big as your entire loft apartment. A part of you felt slightly guilty for taking up that much space, for you had always believed that you deserved less than what you had. But you also felt safe in this apartment, for you were with your James. You were at his home. Home is where the heart is and you had given him your heart.
When you saw that Bucky had set down a bowl of oat meal in front of your seat, you groaned. “James, I can’t...” Your tone was rather whiney but it made him chuckle. “You can’t mask out the fibre with all those berries. It’s disgusting.”
He handed you a spoon as you sat down, his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. “If you eat this and drink your tea, I’ll give you an extra glass of cranberry juice for dinner.”
“You call that an incentive, Dr. Barnes?” You looked up at him with a pout of your lips. “I never thought I would say this but I would actually take the IV and feeding tube over this concoction that Natasha has graciously called breakfast.” You admitted as you took the spoon from him and sighed, struggling to take the first bite. “If that liver of mine doesn’t regenerate in the next few weeks, I swear to God...”
Pulling up his chair next to you, he sat down with his own bowl of oatmeal and held up his spoon. “I’m with you till the end of the line, doll.” He said as he took a bite of his breakfast, scrunching his nose at the texture of the warm oatmeal in his mouth. “Not as good as my usual protein shakes but this would do.”
You let out a chuckle as you took another bite of it, laying your head against his shoulder. “So, your usual diet includes protein shakes and an extensive menu prepared by a personal chef.” You noted, cheekily. “Good to know, Barnes...”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing, it’s just that... there are a lot of things that I feel like I didn’t know about you until now.” You admitted, taking another bite before turning over to look at him. “And it seems like you know everything about me by now...”
It took a moment for your James to take in what you were saying and he bit down on his bottom lip, letting out a sigh before giving you a nod. “I do, don’t I?” He asked as he picked at his bowl of oatmeal before turning over to look at you. “I do know a lot about you, maybe more than you had told me.” Admitting that may not have been the best thing to do right not, but he did not care. After all, he wanted to be honest with you. If it meant that he should share what he had done, then so be it. If you did get mad at him for it, then he sure as hell deserved it for invading your privacy.
You raised your eyebrow slightly as you set down your spoon, licking your lips as you picked up your mug to take a sip of the green tea that had now cooled down. “Peggy may have mentioned it when I asked her why the terms on your contract were triple the amount that my parents owed the hospital. She said something about the outstanding medical bills in Philly, which she wouldn’t have known so I asked her how she did know and she was so quick to rat you out that I was actually surprised.” You told him as you laid his hand on top of his, sighing.
“I...”Bucky paused, not knowing how to respond to that. He could never trust Peggy with a secret, could he? For a woman who preaches about attorney-client privilege like it’s the Bible, she sure as hell lacked the social filter that was necessary when it came to his love life.  She could not keep a secret. It did dawn on him that she may have had good intentions, but that did not make her attempts to meddle any better. “I... I’m sorry, I know I violated your privacy. But I only did it because I was worried and I was watching out for you...” He bit down on his bottom lip as he looked away from you, unable to maintain eye contact when you had just called him out on what he had done.
“James.” You shook your head. “She was also quick to explain that what you did was totally illegal and if I did want to take legal action against you, she would have to resign from being my attorney due to her conflict of interest.” You joked, chuckling softly as you tried to lighten up the mood.
“You’re... not mad?”
You shook your head. “No, I mean, I know why you did it. I had built up these walls around me and... I made it so hard for anyone to know anything about me. In a way, it’s my fault that you had to go out of your way to...” You sighed. “It shows me that you care, James, and I’m... I’m glad to have someone who cares enough about me to... not think twice about breaking the law.”
Bucky let out a sigh of relief that you were not mad at him. But how could you ever get mad at him in the first place? “Oh thank God, I was so worried... that you might end up hating me.” He admitted. “I’m sorry, doll. Even though I did have good intentions, what I did was wrong and I have to own up to that. If you do feel like punishing me for what I did, I’m more than willing to accept it.”
“Well, if you insist on being punished, then... since you seem to know everything about me, you could... maybe start off by telling me everything about you.” You told him as you laughed. “I mean, I did know that you came from old money and that you did not have to struggle financially. But you live in a big ass penthouse apartment, you drive a Mercedes but Wanda tells me that it’s not the only car you own... and you have a personal chef and a housekeeper who come in once a week. You seem a lot more... different than... most people I know. And no, I’m not saying this because I feel insecure or anything. I don’t... I just... you are so different, you could have had anything or anyone you wanted and to think that you chose my fucked up heart over that, I’m... I’m flattered.”
“You’re right, doll.” He admitted, picking at his bowl of oatmeal as he turned over to look at you. “I am different. We’ve both had very different upbringings, I won’t deny that. My grandparents were... fairly wealthy. My family’s quite influential in this little town of Shelbyville, Indiana. That’s where I was born. My parents met when they were kids and they were high school sweethearts. They got married right after they graduated from medical school, moved to Brooklyn for their residency and started up their own practice together, as partners. They were both very successful physicians but they also started a family together. Four kids... and a business to run, they could not do it on their own. I was pretty much raised by my nanny, Sarah...”
“Steve’s mother.” You noted, giving him a nod. Steve had told you about his own family situation growing up, with his parents being Irish immigrants who had their own struggles. Mr. Rogers had not been the best of fathers, but he had passed o when he was fairly young. Sarah Rogers had no choice but to become to sole breadwinner of her family, having a young son to take care of on her own. It must have been a miracle that she had managed to find employment with the Barnes. But from what you knew, the woman had pretty much raised your James and she had done a darn good job at it. “He’s told me a lot about her.”
“She was a wonderful woman, Y/N. I wish you could have met her. She would have loved you like her own child. She always treated us like we were her own children. She never acted like she was being paid to take care of us.” Bucky recalled fondly as he thought of his childhood. “She took care of us like we were her own. But she did have certain limits. She always called me Master James, told me that I should never pick on my little sisters and that I should always watch out for them, as their big brother. She always let me watch when she braided their hair or when she cooked, taught me a thing or two along the way. She was the reason why I managed to become friends with Steve. He was like another brother than a friend, really... he still is.”
“Do you miss her a lot?” You asked him, biting down on your bottom lip as you picked at your oatmeal. You were well aware that Steve’s mother had passed away quite a while ago. Though you did not know the details, you knew that she had passed away from cancer. But now that you knew that Bucky did have a close relationship with that woman, you could imagine how hard it must have been for her.
“I mean, yeah... I miss her a lot. I think about her every day, every single day when I go into work, every single time I see a patient, every single time I get called for a consult. I think of her and I miss her every single day. I never...” Looking back to his teenage days was not easy for Bucky. It was never easy for any teenager. But the worst part of it all had to be when he had lost Sarah. He had been nineteen years old back then, having taken a gap year after his high school graduation. Not only had he been unsure about what he wanted do with his life, but he had also made a pact with Steve that the two of them would attend NYU together. Perhaps his decision to declare a pre-med major may have been his attempt at blindly following his parents’ footsteps, but after Sarah’s death he knew exactly what kind of doctor he wanted to be. “I never realized how fucked up our health care system was... until I realized what actually happened to Sarah. I didn’t think that someone who had a clear case of BAC could be misdiagnosed with pneumonia. I didn’t think there was this... systemic... classism that was so deep-rooted... I think that was a wake-up call for me. All I could think of was... if Sarah had been in a better financial situation, she would have gotten better care and she might even be alive today. I think that made me want to be a better doctor than the ones she had, you know... because I don’t think any kid in this fucked up world deserves to lose their mother because their doctors weren’t good enough at doing their jobs.”
You nodded, understandingly. “She would have been so proud of you, James. She would have been so proud of both you and Steve, your sisters. She did a damn good job raising all of you and... she’s watching you do wonders, I’m sure.” You told him with a smile, your hand holding onto his.
His lips curled into a small smile as he nodded. “I do hope so, Y/N.” He admitted, sighing. “You know, I... I wasn’t always like this. Back then, all I cared about was being the best doctor that could be. And I was... good at my job. I’m a good doctor, I know that. I was better than those doctors that Sarah had. But I was so caught up with being a better doctor, that I often... I forgot to be human.” This was true. He did have his head right up his ass until a few years ago. “I was throwing myself into work and... I thought I was doing good, that cutting into hearts were enough. I had a privileged life, Y/N. I never understood how lucky I was that... I had parents who had successful careers or financial stability. I never understood that... I had made it this far was because I was privileged. I never thought about... giving back to those who didn’t have what I had. I... didn’t think that I could do so much more than I already was. I was so caught up with being a good doctor but what I realized later was that I needed to be a better person... because I had a lot of people who were looking up to me. Seeing you made me realize that... you’re not the one who should strive to be better, but me. I needed to be better, for myself ... for my goddaughter, my niece and nephew... for you. You made me realize that.”
You leaned over to give him a quick peck on his lips. “Well, you can’t be better than perfect... and you are perfect.” You told him, and he was indeed that. He was the perfect man, who had once had his flaws but he had worked to fix them all, for your sake.
After breakfast, you found yourself having taken your medication and making yourself comfortable on your James’ living room couch. The downside to being away from work was the fact that it was extremely difficult to kill time. Steve had forbidden you from even logging into your work email, let alone checking the files of your current patients whom you had transferred over to him for the time being. You had no other choice but to binge-watch whatever show was popular on Netflix. Hell, you had not even bothered to have an account on Netflix until Peter had forced you into creating one. You had a list of shows that you were planning to watch during your time in bed rest, as per Natasha’s recommendations. You were never fond of watching television, but at this point, you might as well keep yourself entertained.
While you had gotten immersed in the historically accurate depiction of the British royal family in The Crown, Bucky had found himself sitting in the dining room and catching up on some emails for work. He was on call at the moment but he had not been asked to come into the hospital just yet, so it was all good. Thankfully, Peggy was scheduled to spend the night with you while Steve was at home with Sarah. He had just finished replying to his last email when he got a phone call from his sister. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he saw Rebecca Barnes’ name flash on his phone before he answered the call. “Hey Becca?”
“Hey Buck, just letting you know that mom and I are on our way over to yours right now. We should be there in a half hour or so.” Becca told her brother in a hurry. “I just came down to drop the kids off for the weekend and mom insisted that I join her for a little impromptu visit. She wants to see Y/N.”
“What?!” His eyes grew wide as he heard what his sister what just told him, but his tone was rather hushed as he did not want to bother you during your binge. “Rebecca, what the hell?! How did she know that Y/N was here and why the hell are you calling me instead of talking her out of coming here?!”
“Bucky, I think you and I both know the answer to that.” She replied, sighing. “You know Steve calls her at least twice a week. Apparently, she heard through the grape vine that you had paid off a large amount of money and asked him if he knew about it. You know Steve. He wouldn’t lie to her so... yeah, she knows about Y/N and you paying off her parents. Oh and Steve was gracious enough to rat me out too. Now she knows that I was also involved...” There was a pause before she let out a sigh. “So... yeah, mom wants to see Y/N and we’re on our way.”
To say that James Barnes was certain that one could not trust both the mister and missus Rogers would be an understatement. How could both the husband and the wife just rat him out to two of the most important women in his life like that? He had no idea. “Alright, thanks for the warning, I guess. I’ll see you when you get here.” Once he hung up the call, he was quick to make his way over to the living room. “Hey, doll?”
You picked up the remote to pause your show before turning your head slightly to face him. “Yeah?”
Biting down on his bottom lip, he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his sweat pants as he made his way around the couch. Sitting down on the loveseat across from you, he rubbed his temples for a moment, not knowing how to break this to you. He had not bothered letting his parents know about the events of the last few weeks, mainly because he did not know how to. But he also did not want to put you in an overwhelming position where you had to deal with them while you were also recovering from your surgery. Surely, you had met George and Winnifred Barnes before. But back then, you were only a colleague of his and now you were his girlfriend. “I don’t want to freak you out but... uh... my sister Becca just called and... my mom’s on her way here right now and she wants to see you.”
“What?!” You asked him in surprise. You had met the woman briefly before at Sarah Rogers’ second birthday party a few months ago. You certainly had a lot of respect for her. But now you were particularly nervous about meeting her again, as you happened to be dating her son. “How?”
Your James winced slightly at the thought of his best friend. “... Steve.” He replied with a sigh. “He told her everything and now she’s on her way here. My sister said that she wanted to see you.”
You let out a groan when he mentioned the name of your mentor. “Fucking Rogers...” You rolled your eyes as you laid your head back, sighing. “James, I don’t think I’m ready to meet your mother now. We’ve barely been a couple. What does she want to see me about?”
“I don’t know, doll.” Bucky agreed as he sighed, leaning over to place his hand on your foot. “You don’t have to put yourself through this if you don’t want to. I could just tell her that you’re not feeling like visitors and send her home.”
You shook your head. “Oh no, don’t do that. I don’t want to be rude.” You told him, biting down on your bottom lip. “I mean, you did say that she might be coming over every once in a while... right?”
“Well, she usually comes to do my laundry.” He admitted with a shrug. “Ever since she retired, she seems to have a lot of time on her hands so... she tends to stop by to do some chores around the house, you know, be a mom. But I was going to tell her to not come by in the next few weeks, you know, for your sake. But Steve just had to spill the beans to her and now’s she on her way.”
“When Peggy comes here tonight, I’ll make sure to give her a piece of my mind.”
The sound of his front door being unlocked by his mother’s set of keys may have startled Bucky slightly, for he sprung to his feet and stomped over to greet her in an instant. “Ma?”
“Hello, James.” The woman greeted her son with a warm smile upon seeing him rush to her, pulling him into a tight hug as she stood on the tip of her toes to reach his height. Even when her son had grown well into his adulthood, he would always be her little baby. As a once working mother who had been forced to spend so much time away from her children, she had always greeted them with a warm embrace when she came home. Her arms always wrapped tightly around them to show just how much she loved them despite not being around to show it as much as she would have liked. No wonder the Barnes children had turned out the way they had. They had two amazing women who had showered them with love and affection. They had never been deprived of a mother’s love, unlike yourself.
A part of him was relieved that his mother was not visibly upset by his actions, but he hugged her back rather hesitantly. All he could do was give Becca a death glare for not managing to talk her out of coming here. But it was too late now, since they were already here. He hoped for the best but for some reason, expected the worst. “Rebecca.”
“Brother.” She gave him an apologetic look that was followed by a shrug of her shoulders.
Pulling back from the hug, Winnifred Barnes ran her hand through her son’s hair fondly. “You look rather well-rested, son. Have you not been working in the last few days?” She asked him with her eyebrow raised at him.
“Uhm... no, not really.” He replied as he scratched the back of his neck. “I was on call the other night and I’m actually on call right now. I just haven’t had anyone call me in yet.”
“And here I thought my workaholic son had finally had a change of heart.” The woman joked as she began to make her way over to the living room. “How’s the lovely Y/N?”
“Uh...” He turned around to look at Becca before following her to the living room. “She’s doing alright...”
You turned off the television before getting out of your comfortable position on the couch, folding your blanket neatly and setting it aside. You fixed your dressing gown as you stood up, turning around towards the door to greet your boyfriend’s mother. “Dr. Barnes.” You smiled nervously at her.
“Oh honey, please... call me Winnie. Or Ma, Ma’s great too. Actually, I think I would prefer if you called me Ma.” She clarified with a smile, walking up to you and gently wrapping her arm around you. “Steve mentioned to me about your surgery the other day. I wish he could have told me sooner though. I would have come down and seen you at the hospital. But better late than never, right? How are you doing?”
“I’m doing much better now, thank you.” You told her with a smile and you could have sworn that your heart could have burst from the fondness that was so evident from this woman. “I... have some great people looking out for me so it’s all good.”
“Of course, you do!” Becca exclaimed as she walked up to you with a wide grin. “Hi, we haven’t met. I’m Becca Barnes and it’s so lovely to meet you, finally. My children have told me so much about you.”
You returned her smile, knowing very well that this woman had been the one who had dug into your past as per her brother’s request. “Peggy told me a lot about you as well, believe it or not.” You told her, making Bucky choke slightly.
Winnifred Barnes turned over to her son. “James, didn’t you say that you were working today? Why don’t you get on your way now? Becca and I can keep Y/N company while you’re gone.”
“Uh...” He looked away from his mother for a moment, turning to you with wide eyes. “I mean, I don’t have to go yet...”
A part of her was slightly surprised by his response, for she knew that her son would never turn down a chance to go into work earlier than he had been expected to be at work. But she was not an idiot. She knew that his reason for wanting to delay going in to the hospital was because he would rather stay at home with you.
She had to admit that it was slightly refreshing to see him like this. Bucky had remained single for while now and had rarely ever brought any women home. Winnifred had always been worried that her son would willingly choose to spend the rest of his life alone despite the fact that he was certainly capable of finding himself a wife. But she knew now that his heart had always been set on you and she could not be more grateful that the two of you had found each other.
When she had heard from Steve, and Becca after much insistence, about your familial situation, the woman’s heart broke. A mother’s love was meant to be the purest of them all. But the fact that your own mother had been the cause of your despair had sickened her. In an instant, she was longing to embrace you and shower you with the love that you had been so deprived of. A mother’s love, for you were now a daughter to her as much as the rest of them, if her son was so sure of making you his wife.
Just then, Bucky’s pager went off against the waistband of his sweat pants. A disappointed groan escaping his lips, he checked the page before making his way towards the dining room to grab his phone. A quick phone call to the nurses’ desk and MJ informing him of a ferry accident was reason enough for him to head to work. When he turned around to head back to the living room, he noticed that his sister had followed him. “What is it?”
Rebecca Barnes bit down on her bottom lip. “Mom... told me to give you something.” She told him as she reached into her purse to pull out a little black box. “When you’re ready, Buck...” She handed it to him and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “If you know that Y/N’s the one, I mean... I’m sure you know that by now. We all know that she’s the one, just... Mom loves her, but that’s not a surprise. Dad’s quite fond of her too, believe it or not. What’s there not to love about Y/N Y/L/N?”
His eyes grew wide as he took the box from her, pulling her into a hug and sighing. His eyes glazed over as he realized that he now had his family’s blessing. Although it was only a few days into the two of you being boyfriend and girlfriend, he had always known that it was you. But now his family did too. “She is the one, Becca.” He admitted, sighing. “She’s always been the one. I’ve always known that if I ever wanted to settle down and have a family of my own, if I didn’t have it all with Y/N, then I didn’t want it at all.”
Becca nodded as she rubbed his back, sighing. “She’s been through a hell of a lot, Bucky. She’s been through enough. She really needs a good family, one where she feels loved and accepted... and we have a damn good family, one that can love her... like family should. She’s earned every right to be a part of what we have. She deserves to be a Barnes.”
Pulling back from the hug, he wiped away his tears before looking down at the box that his sister had just handed him. Opening it to reveal the piece of jewelry that he had been so familiar with, he looked up at her. “Becca, is this...?”
“Our grandmother’s ring?” She nodded. “Yeah, it is. It’s the same one that she gave mom after she got married to dad. It’s a Barnes family heirloom and Y/N deserves it. Mom’s been holding onto it for the moment you... found yourself a woman you want to marry. She told me... what better way to welcome a new Barnes into the family than with a Barnes family heirloom?”
“I can’t believe it.”
“Promise me that you won’t put this off like you’ve been doing for all these years.” She asked her brother. “Promise me that you’ll do it sooner rather than later.”
Your James smiled before giving his sister a nod. “I promise.”
It had taken Bucky ten quick minutes to get dressed for work. As he was low on time, he was a little rushed. He had apologized to you a few times for having to leave you so abruptly and that too in the presence of his mother and sister.
But you had assured him that it was fine. “I knew you were on call, James. It’s cool. I’m just glad I don’t have to spend a few hours alone until Peggy gets here. It’s nice to have some company.” You told him.
He nodded as he leaned over to kiss the top of your head. “You better take care of yourself while I’m gone, you hear me? Your meals are in the fridge. Please eat on time and take your meds on time. No moving around too much while I’m gone and no trying to do chores either. You’re here to rest, not to be my unpaid housekeeper. Understood?”
You gave him a nod as your lips curled into a pout. “Yes, Dr. Barnes.” You giggled. “I’ll be fine. You’re leaving me with Brooklyn’s best internist and PI. What’s the worst that could happen?”
He chuckled softly as he turned over to look at his mom and sister, silently pleading them both not to overwhelm you in any way. He knew that they both understood, but he could not be so sure about it. After all, he wanted to make sure that you were comfortable.
“Oh don’t you worry, James. Rebecca and I can definitely keep her entertained while you’re gone.” Winnifred reassured her son, to which he had simply rolled his eyes in a playful manner.
“Bye Ma...” He waved at his mother, and then at his sister. “Bye Becca...” He turned to you. “Goodbye, doll. I love you... all three of you.” And with that, he turned around and made his way out the door.
You felt your cheeks heat up at his words and you hid your face away from Becca’s teasing look.
“Our boy’s turned into complete mush, Ma.” The PI noted as she giggled, her arm wrapped around you as you hid your face.
“I’ve never seen him so happy.” Her mother agreed, turning over to look at you. “Steve told me just how much he loves you, Y/N. I’m so happy for him... and for you. You two really deserve each other.”
“James... is a really great guy, Winnie.” You agreed as you looked up at her. “And I have you to thank for that.”
As the hours went by, both Winnifred and Rebecca Barnes had stayed with you. They had kept you fairly occupied, talking about the one man whom you all loved. You had learned a lot more about your James that day, by just listening to them talk for hours on end about him. Both Winnie and Becca had a lot of stories to share, from his childhood to his adulthood.
You had come to learn that Bucky had been a complete nerd at school due to his photographic memory, often being picked on by the other kids for his smarts. But he had always had a backbone too, standing up to his bullies when they picked on him and when they picked on Steve. That was no surprise for you though. He had stood up for you too. While his mother had told you stories of him as a child, his sister had been the one who had shared the most embarrassing ones of all – his first crush, his first kiss, his prom date... the dirt on Bucky that his mother would not have known. All in all, you had learned a lot about his life more than you had done that morning and you could not have fallen even more in love with him than you already were.
When lunchtime rolled around, Becca had been the one to heat up your pre-prepared meal while Winnie had read through the copy of Natasha’s specific instructions that Bucky had stuck to the refrigerator and took out the right medications for you to take. But the stories never stopped. They had kept their word to Bucky and kept you more entertained that any show on Netflix could have. You had learned quite a lot about Shelbyville, Indiana, where the Barnes were originally from and their family’s estate there. They had even managed to sneak an invite for you to be there for the next Barnes family reunion. For a family that had been well settled in Brooklyn, they still kept in touch with their roots. You admired that.
Becca had left shortly after lunch though, as she had to pick up her children from pre-school and head home. Before you knew it, the sun had set and you found yourself sitting in the living room with your boyfriend’s mother, a glass of cranberry juice in your hand and a glass of wine in hers. You had talked to her about how she had managed to have a successful career as a doctor, while also raising four children of her own. You had admitted two her of your interest to someday have a family of your own as well while still continue working, something that you never would have dreamed of a week ago. But things had changed for the better.
You had to admit that this woman acted like she was more of a mother to you than your own mother, despite only having known you for a few hours. You knew where James got his charm and good heart from. It was all from his mother. Winnie had been the one to heat up your dinner, before stealing one of her son’s portions for herself. As the two of you sat down to eat at the dinner table, Peggy had arrived to take up her shift with you according to Wanda’s schedule.
“Peggy, darling, I should have called you sooner but I just got so caught up with talking to Y/N that I forgot.” Winnie apologized to her. “Go home to your husband and kid, seriously. I have no problem staying with Y/N for the night. James wouldn’t be back until the morning and I’m sure you’ve got to be at work tomorrow. Don’t worry.”
“Winnie, are you sure?” The attorney asked her. “I really don’t mind staying with Y/N.”
“Honey, I have no job and my husband’s out of town. I have no problem spending the night here with Y/N until James gets out of work. Just go!” She told her with a chuckle.
The British woman wiggled her eyebrows at you when the other was looking away before she bid you farewell. Boy, was she going to give Steve a treat for spilling the beans to Winnifred Barnes.  
You had been sitting on the couch with your feet up, pulling the blanket over your body as the sun had set and the stars had filled up the sky, little twinkling lights that reminded you of your endless night shifts with Dr. Barnes. You felt the happiest when you worked the night shifts with him, splitting take out and chatting away about the weirdest things. And now you were doing almost the same with his mother. “Thanks for being here, Ma...” You told her as you turned over to look at the woman who sat in the loveseat across from you. Your eyes were a little droopy from the exhaustion of the day despite not doing much. It seemed as though you found yourself becoming tired rather easily nowadays, thanks to the medications you were taking and the extensive process of literally re-growing an organ that you had managed to cut off and donate.
“I think it’s time you went to bed, sweetheart.” Winnie told you as she watched you let out a yawn.
You shook your head. “Maybe in a few minutes...” You told her, letting out a soft chuckle. “I haven’t been able to sleep on the bed. It feels too soft sometimes. Plus, I’m way too comfortable on this couch right now so... let me just savor that some more and then I can go to bed.”
A soft chuckle escaped the woman’s lips as your response and she stood up from her seat. “How have you been sleeping then?” She asked you as she sat down next to you on the couch, her arm wrapped gently around your shoulder.
“Well, James... usually stays up until I fall asleep. He sleeps in the guest room with me sometimes.” You replied, blushing slightly. “I think he likes to watch me sleep, to make sure I’m okay. And when he’s working nights, Nat and Wanda... snuggle up to me until I fall asleep.”  
You did not even realize how that conversation had ended. But unbeknownst to you, you had managed to fall asleep on Winnifred Barnes’ shoulder that night. Not wanting to wake you up, the woman had made herself comfortable on the couch while she laid your head on her lap, her hand gently stroking your hair while she had dozed off.
When Bucky Barnes had returned to his penthouse apartment following his excruciating night shift, the least that he would have expected was for you to be asleep in the guest bedroom with Peggy taking the couch. But what he had walked into was something much better than that. Seeing you fast asleep on his mother’s lap while she had woken up to the sound of him coming home was everything he could have wanted and more.
He tiptoed over to the living room, setting his bag down on the coffee table before sitting down on the loveseat across from his mother. “I’ve never seen her sleep so peacefully... and believe me, I would know. I’ve watched her sleep quite a few times.” He whispered, trying not to wake you up.
Winnifred Barnes laughed softly at her son before shaking her head, her hand still clutching onto yours as you slept. “Steve may have mentioned that as well. He would never leave anything out.”
“That punk...” He rolled his eyes with a chuckle. “But... uh... are you not mad at me for what I did, Ma? I should have at least told you and dad before I went ahead with my... excessive spending.”
“Oh James, you know you don’t have to apologize for that.” She shrugged it off. “You were protecting the woman you love, as you should have. If anything, it just made me so proud that... I must have done something right, raising an absolute gentleman like you.”
Bucky let out a chuckle. “Yeah... well... I wasn’t always a gentleman. I think the term that one would use to describe me was... fuck boy or man whore. I’m pretty sure it was one or the other.” He had to admit that he was ashamed of his past. He had to apologize for the way his actions had often brought shame to his parents back then. “I gave you and dad such a hard time, acting so reckless and stupid.”
“You were young... and stupid, kid. But that’s all part of growing up. You do stupid things but you eventually learn from them. We can’t hold it against you for doing what everyone else your age was doing.” Winnie told her son. “But I think your father and I both knew that you would grow up eventually and you would change. We couldn’t be more proud of you, for everything you’ve accomplished as a surgeon... and as a philanthropist.”
“I don’t think I should take credit for that, Ma.” He smiled, motioning towards you. “It was all her. She made me better.”
“And that’s why I knew that she’s the one.”
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the ring box that Becca had given him the day before. “Thanks for this, Ma.” He told her as he fumbled with the box for a moment, looking up at his mother with a content smile. “Thanks for everything. Thanks for being a good mom. I was lucky to have a mom like you and now I know that not many people can say that about their mothers, Y/N included.”
“The best part of being a mother was coming home to you and your sisters. Your dad and I had you before we did our residencies. When we moved to New York, we weren’t sure how we were going to manage raising you while working full time. Sarah was a big help but I always knew that I had to do my best to be a part of your life. I was not going to put my career over my children, because in the end it was your father and I who decided to have you when we had you.” She told him, a genuine smile evident on her face. “I love you, James. I always wanted you to know that, because a kid should never be deprived of a mother’s love, no matter how old he is or if he’s the best heart surgeon in New York. You’ll always be my little boy and I’m so proud of you.”
“I love you too, Ma... and I know that as she gets to know you, Y/N would love you too. She needs a good mom in her life and you’re the best mom I know.” Standing up from his seat, he walked around the coffee table to give her a kiss on the cheek. “You should probably go home and get some sleep. I’ve got her from here.”
James Barnes had a few hours to contemplate how he was going to do this. But he knew that this was exactly what his heart had desired. He was going to ask you to marry him the moment you woke up, not because he wanted to rush you into this relationship. He was not impatient, but this was not for him. He knew that Becca had been right about one thing – you needed a good family and the unconditional love that came with it. You needed a mother who would shower you with love and a father who would treat you as a human being. You had your girl friends but you also needed sisters. You needed to be a part of something more than just your little group of friends at the hospital. You needed family.
When Peggy’s parents had refused to attend her wedding to Steve, she had been quite upset. When he had asked Steve why their absence was such a big deal, Steve had explained to his promiscuous self that marriage was more than just two people coming together. It was about two families coming together as one. But you did not have a family of your own, so he might as well make you a part of his.
Bucky, although claimed to be lacking in the romantic department, had certainly proved that he was capable of pulling off some elaborate proposal if he wanted to. He could certainly afford it and a woman like you deserved to get engaged in style. But if he knew one thing about the woman he loved, it was that Y/N Y/L/N lived a rather simple life. She did not care for the riches, but for the thought that went behind every single thing he would do for her. You would want a simple yet genuine proposal from him, so that was exactly what he was going to give you.
“I loved hanging out with your mom and sister. I got a lot of dirt about you and your rebellious years. You’ve lived quite the life, Dr. Barnes.” You told your boyfriend as you made your way towards the kitchen once you had showered and gotten dressed. A look of confusion had plastered across to your face as the aroma of fresh pastry lingered up to your nostrils, much to the contrast of the usual morning oatmeal topped with fresh berries that you had been so used to. “James?”
“I was thinking... that after four whole days of oatmeal for breakfast, you might want something a little bit more indulging.” He chuckled softly as he set a plate of Cannoli’s on the kitchen island. “I ordered it from the little bakery down the street. They’re my favorite cheat meal.”
“Cannoli’s?” You asked, your eyebrow raised as you sat down on the chair. “What’s the occasion?”
“It was the closest thing I could find to a Venetian feast at such short notice.” He replied with a shrug as he walked around the kitchen island to kiss you softly.
“Why a Venetian feast?” You asked him as you picked up one of the pastry rolls and took a bite, letting the chocolate-y mascarpone filling give life to your partially dead taste buds.
Your James took a step back from you for a moment, taking your free hand in his as he bit down on his bottom lip. If he was going to do this, he was going to do this right now, because he did not want to put this off like he had put off confessing his love to you for years. He was not going to keep you waiting on him any longer that he had already done. “As our good friend William Shakespeare once wrote... You see me, Lady Y/L/N, where I stand... Such I am. Though for myself alone... I would not be ambitious in my wish... To wish myself much better, yet for you... I would be trebled twenty times myself- A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times more rich- That only to stand high in your account.”
Your eyes glazed over as you realized what he was saying. It was Portia’s monologue to Bassanio before she gave him her ring as a symbol of her love and commitment to him in The Merchant of Venice. The only difference though, was that he had changed the pronouns. “James.”
“Happy in this- he is not yet so old... but he may learn. Happier than this- he is not bred so dull but he can learn. Happiest of all is that his gentle spirit... commits itself to yours to be directed... as from his lady, his governor, his queen. Myself and what is mine to you and yours... Is now converted.” Bucky was in tears as he pulled out the little black ring box from his pocket and held up to you, dropping to his knee as he showed you the ring. His heart was beating right out of his chest, but for once he felt truly alive. His heart was no longer stone cold or dead. Yes, you had thawed him out completely. “I give them with this ring.”
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You looked down at the vintage diamond ring that he had been holding. “James...” You crouched down to grab his face, his hair getting entangled with your fingers as you wiped away his tears with both of your thumbs.
“I’ve lived a life so different from yours, Y/N. I had all the money in the world and a loving family. I want what was mine to be yours too.” He sniffled. “I want you to have a family. I want you to be a part of mine. I want you to be a Barnes, if you would accept my proposal.”
Your voice was trembling and you were unable to speak. You nodded your head quickly as you continued to cry, your hands not leaving his face. Your eyes darted down to the ring that he had been holding and you nodded once more. Removing your hands from his cheeks, you held out the palm of your left hand towards him.
Bucky grinned widely as he wiped away his tears, retrieving the ring from its box to gently slide it onto your ring finger. “You don’t have to marry me right away. It can be tomorrow morning or ten years from now, I don’t care. You don’t have to have a custom made dress and flower arrangements. A courthouse wedding with a judge and two witnesses is more than enough for me, as long as it’s you that I’m marrying.”
“I think I have a better idea, Dr. Barnes.” You told him as you took both of his hands in yours. “How about we get married on Valentine’s Day? In your hometown of Shelbyville, Indiana... at your family’s estate, surrounded by your family and all of our friends. Steve would be your best man. Sam, Clint, your other friends and your brother-in-law would be your remaining groomsmen. Natasha would be my maid of honor and she’ll help me plan the wedding, from the color scheme to the flower arrangements and picking out a dress. Your three sisters, Peggy, Wanda would be my bridesmaids. Sarah and your little niece would be flower girls, your nephew the ring bearer and... the Chief’s ordained so he can marry us. Your parents will be sitting front row... and Matthew can walk me down the aisle.”
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sonicrainicorn · 4 years ago
Text
A Familiar Face
Part of the Berry Done AU
Words: 5121 Desc.: Their relationship is still rough around the edges, but Patton and Logan are making it work. One trip to the store and a blast from the past might shake things up all over again.  Or; in which an old friend makes an appearance and Patton feels threatened. TW: None(?)
///
They were out of milk.
It wasn’t that big of a deal. If Patton were to be honest, he wouldn’t have suggested they go to the store if he knew what would come out of it. Yes, that was the jealousy talking (God, he really needed to get over that) but it was still what he thought. He also thought she was too bubbly and too cutesy and had a smile that was way too blinding and -- wait, what was he saying? Right, milk.
Patton noticed they were out when he went to get cereal that morning. There was enough for the twins, but that was it. He was grateful there was even that much. A war would have started in their kitchen if there was only enough for one of the boys to have cereal with.
They had a system implemented in their house when it came to groceries. A slip of paper was posted to the fridge, and whenever something ran out it would be written on the paper. Sometimes Roman or Virgil tried to write various snacks or treats on there in the hopes of getting extra junk food. It worked eight times out of ten because Patton has a habit of not double-checking and Logan can’t say no. So out of habit, Patton wrote ‘milk’ on the list. Then he noticed the paper was full.
Naturally, he brought it up with Logan.
“So go to the store,” Logan responded groggily. Princess Leia had her head resting on his hip, fast asleep.
There were days where Logan slept in instead of waking up at his usual time. There didn’t seem to be any type of pattern to it -- it happened whenever it happened -- so Patton didn’t know if it should concern him. “Did you maybe want to come with me?”
Logan blew out a puff of air and closed his eyes. “Five minutes.”
Patton left him alone.
Ever since the... er... Incident, Patton tried twice as hard to do whatever Logan wanted or needed. No questions asked. It was, quite literally, the very least he could do. 
He regretted The Incident from the moment it happened, and every moment after served to reinforce what a terrible person he was. He honestly didn’t deserve Logan or the life they made together. It almost felt like stealing. Some days he genuinely thought that. He was stealing Logan, Roman, and Virgil from someone else -- someone better -- but dang if he wasn’t selfish enough to keep them. He was lucky they even decided to stay at all.
Thinking about losing them made him sick. Maybe if Logan had been a little more angry -- if Patton had gotten a little further -- they wouldn’t have stayed. The twins wouldn’t have tried to see good in him, Logan wouldn’t have tried to reconnect. He would be left alone with his mistakes. Maybe that’s what he deserved now. Maybe he didn’t deserve a second chance. But that’s what he had. He had another shot to prove how much they all meant to him. That was more than he could ever ask for. He knew Logan might not ever forgive him, but he’d die happy with the fact he wasn’t hated.
“Wrong aisle, Patton,” Logan chided absentmindedly. He guided the end of the cart with his hand without looking away from his phone.
Patton chuckled; a nervous, breathy thing. “Oh, right.” He continued down the correct way. “I forgot what we were looking for.”
Logan glanced up at him with the ghost of a smile. “That’s why I’m here.”
“Also because I love you.” Patton gave him a tiny grin. He made it a habit to tell Logan he loved him as often as he could. It didn’t erase anything, but gentle reminders were nice.
“That too.”
The two went down many different aisles, chatting between themselves. They spoke of basic topics such as work or siblings. Talking had gotten a lot easier since The Incident, but it still felt like heavy walls were put up. Not that Patton could blame Logan or anything. After everything he had been through, it would be hard to give out second chances.
Still, a lot of progress had been made. Logan could be in the same room as Patton now. And Patton could look at Logan without feeling immense guilt. They never brought up The Incident at any point. Neither of them could bear to talk about it. It hurt too much.
“No, Patton, we’re not getting cake mix. Put your hand down.” Logan spoke without even needing to look at him.
Patton pouted but did as he was told regardless.
Logan put the vegetable oil in the cart. “You wouldn’t even be able to make it, anyway.”
“Hey -- I’m not that bad.” He continued to push the cart down the aisle. “I can at least do pre-packaged things.”
“Oh, sure.” Logan couldn’t hold back a smirk. “Last time that went well.”
Patton flushed. “It was an accident.”
“That’s why you always check the oven first.” He turned down another aisle, leaving Patton an embarrassed mess.
Logan continued to tease him all throughout their trip. He made sure to bring up any and all possible past situations that Patton found less than ideal (including, but not limited to, the “dom” conversation). It caused Logan to laugh a bit so the embarrassment was worth it.
By the time they were getting their items scanned, Logan had brought up just about all of Patton’s embarrassing moments. Patton tried to ignore how red his face was as he paid for everything. He let the onslaught continue as they made their way to their car.
“Logan?”
The two stopped to face the woman who had spoken. Her long blonde hair reached the end of her back in a loose braid. Her sharp blue eyes scanned every inch of Logan’s face. Their heights were similar, with the woman being less than an inch shorter. Not that that was an accomplishment or anything. Logan was a tiny man at a whopping five feet and (barely) six inches.
“Logan Sanders?”
She appeared dainty -- but not fragile. More like a ballet dancer. In fact, with the way she held herself, she might have been. The aura around her screamed professionalism and far more than it ever did for Logan. Which of itself was an impressive feat.
Logan stared at her, mind no doubt racing, until it visibly clicked. “Cara?”
Cara beamed. “It is you! Oh my goodness.” She put both hands on her chest. “I’d recognize that dorky smile anywhere.”
Logan’s smile widened. Patton caught the light pink that dusted his cheeks. “I can’t -- I -- wow.” He let out a breath of laughter. “I’d never thought I’d see you again.”
“I know,” she squealed. “But look at you. You’re all grown up! Still tiny as ever, though.” She winked.
“Well, I’m taller than you now.” Logan crossed his arms.��“That’s all I ever wanted to be.”
Cara scoffed. “Barely.” Her eyes caught onto Patton. “Who’s this?”
Logan seemed to remember they weren’t alone. “Oh!” He turned to Patton, who noticed how wide his smile was. “This is my husband, Patton.”
Cara squealed again. “You’re married?! Oh my goodness, Lo-bear, that’s amazing.” She bounced on the balls of her feet. “I can’t believe this. It feels like just yesterday I was beating up girls for you about not having a crush and now you’re married. Gosh, it’s been far too long.”
“I can agree with you there.”
Logan’s smile was so wide. He looked so happy -- far happier than Patton had ever seen him in days. But the way he looked at Cara made his heart hurt. He let his smile be free around her. He let her hear his loud laugh. That’s something Patton never got. Not even before The Incident. Logan was always so timid with those things -- afraid to get a hurtful reaction that would never come -- but he dropped all his walls with Cara. It... it didn’t feel fair.
Now, Patton knew he didn’t have a right to demand things from Logan (especially after the damage he caused), but he couldn’t help but feel cheated. Cheated out of bright smiles and bubbly giggles. Cheated out of defenseless conversations. Because Logan had always been defensive. He never smiled because he hated it. He never laughed because it was annoying. He never talked more than he should because someone might get mad. He built up so many walls because that’s what he had been forced to do. And it took Patton years to break them all down. Cara knocked them down with a single look.
What did she have that Patton didn’t? Why did she get a free pass? What was so special about her? Logan mentioned her once. Once. Out of all the years they knew each other, Patton heard her name exactly one time. A best friend. A girl who beat up bullies and kept promises. She moved away as she and Logan started middle school.
“You should join us for dinner tonight.”
Logan’s cheery voice dragged Patton out of his brooding. She even managed to get him to talk out of his level, stoic tone. Why was she so much better?
“Oh, I’d love that.” She grinned at him. Total heart eyes. “Would that be alright with you, Patton?”
Patton blinked. “Uh,” play nice, play nice, “sure. I guess. It’s just gonna be spaghetti.”
Her grin never left her face. “Sounds lovely.”
This was the first time Patton ever found himself annoyed at someone’s positivity. Is this what it was like to deal with him all the time? How could anyone stand it?
“I’ll text you the address,” Logan continued. Wait -- when did they exchange numbers? “It was so great seeing you again. I still can’t believe it.”
Cara threw her arms around him in a tight hug. “I missed you so much, Lo-bear.”
Logan laughed. “You know, people tend to ask before going in for a hug.”
“You think I’m going to ask a big teddy bear for a hug instead of going right in?” She pulled away to smirk at him.
He flushed. Patton couldn’t help but latch on to the detail of his hands on her hips. “Still not over calling me that?”
“Never.”
After that whole thing was over, Patton and Logan put the groceries in the car then left to go back home. Patton couldn’t think of anything other than how Cara and Logan interacted. He tried so hard to let any other thought get in, but he couldn’t do it.
“She called you Lo-bear,” the words tumbled out of Patton’s mouth before he could stop them.
“What? Oh,” Logan shrugged, “she used to insist on giving me different nicknames. That was just one of her favorites.”
Patton hummed. He didn’t think anyone but Thomas referred to Logan as ‘bear’. He didn’t think Logan would even let anyone else call him ‘bear’, yet Cara did it twice. As casually as if she had done it all her life.
Logan furrowed his brows. “Are you alright? You seem a little off right now.”
“Who? Me?” He scoffed. “Never better. Perfectly fine. I’m doing great. Oh, look, we’re home.” He got out of the car before Logan could question him further.
Luckily, he didn’t try to bring it up again. That was fine with Patton. He didn’t want to admit to something if he didn’t have to.
By the time dinner was ready, Patton felt a little more like himself. He managed to disregard his less than ideal feelings over the earlier interaction and focus on the tasks at hand. He started calling the twins to the table when someone knocked at the door. Princess Leia did her “intruder alert” barks to which Logan shushed her, mumbling about needing to get her to stop doing that.
Patton stepped into the living room and his heart dropped. Cara stood at the doorway with her bright smile and sparkling eyes. Her hair was out of the braid and fell over her shoulders in soft waves. She greeted Logan with another tight hug and Patton felt a twinge of something in his stomach.
Her eyes first landed on Princess Leia. “Oh how cute!” She walked over to rub her head. “You’re such a pretty puppy. Oh my gosh, yes you are.” She continued to coo as Leia discovered she liked the attention.
“Her name’s Princess Leia.” Logan shut the front door and walked over to them. The fondness on his face made Patton hurt.
Cara paused to grin up at Logan. “You’re such a nerd, Lo.”
Logan rolled his eyes, but his smile proved that he wasn’t really annoyed. “I wasn’t the one that named her.”
“What do you --?” She cut herself off as she saw the twins walk out. They stopped dead in their tracks once they saw her. The three all stared at each other with wide eyes.
“Cara, these are my sons, Roman and Virgil,” Logan started. “Roman and Virgil, this is Cara, the guest I said would be joining us.”
“Hi,” Roman mumbled. Virgil gave a timid wave.
Cara didn’t say anything for a moment. She stood up, tears fresh in her eyes, and turned to Logan. “You've grown up so much, Logan. I can’t believe I missed it.”
“Maybe this time you should stick around.” He gave her a gentle smile.
She turned back toward the twins with a wobbly smile of her own. “I think I will.”
Patton didn’t know how to feel about that.
At dinner, they all chatted about pleasant things. Roman and Virgil started to warm up to her (another thing she did better than Patton) and would ask her questions every once in a while. Patton pretended to be engaged in the conversation, but he didn’t speak much. He observed instead. Logan kept his eyes on her the whole time. He would smile when she spoke, laughed when she laughed. He was captivated by her.
And Patton was bitter about it. It didn’t seem fair. It wasn’t right. What did she ever do to get that attention? What made her so special? She wasn’t the one who married Logan. Who gave her the right to waltz in here and -- oh. Oh, God. Is this how Logan felt? This awful, squirming feeling sitting deep in his chest? Did Patton put Logan through this? Oh no. Logan wouldn’t... He wouldn’t get back at Patton, right?
“Oh, crap,” Patton muttered under his breath. He covered his mouth and stared hard at his plate.
Logan seemed to be the only one who noticed. He furrowed his brows in confusion (and what might have been worry). He didn’t get to speak any of his thoughts, however, because Virgil’s timid voice spoke up before he could.
“Are you a mermaid?” He asked Cara.
Cara beamed at him.
“What? No way,” Roman interrupted. “She’s obviously a princess. She has a pretty dress on and everything.”
“But her hair looks like a mermaid’s,” Virgil argued.
“How d’you know I’m not both?” Cara spoke before the two could start arguing.
“‘Cause mermaids aren’t real,” Roman stated matter-of-factly. Ah, yes, this was Logan’s kid alright.
Cara smirked. “What makes you so sure?”
“I’ve never seen one.”
“Well have you looked?”
Roman was prepared to answer when realization crossed his face. “Uh, no.”
“So then they could be real.” She winked at Logan. “You’ve just never had the pleasure of meeting one.” She grinned. “Until now, at least.”
“See?” Virgil’s timid voice gained a fraction of proud confidence.
Roman pouted. “But then where’s your tail? How can you be a mermaid with no tail?”
“Haven’t you seen The Little Mermaid?”
“Yeah -- but she lost her voice.” Roman crossed his arms.
“Well, I had to make a different deal.” Cara leaned over the table as if she was about to reveal a great secret. “In order to get my legs, I need to perform wherever the Sea Witch tells me. If I want to keep them, I have to find someone very special.”
“Like a prince?” Roman and Virgil asked at the same time.
Cara chuckled. “Something like that.”
“Daddy can be your prince,” Roman suggested.
Logan choked on his water.
“So you can keep your legs,” Virgil continued.
Patton noticed how Cara’s cheeks shifted to a soft pink. “You really think your daddy could be a prince?” She turned to Logan with soft eyes. It made Patton’s heart lurch. “I don’t know. He doesn’t seem very princely to me.”
“Nuh-uh. He could totally be a prince,” Roman argued.
Logan sunk in embarrassment as the three tried to discuss what did and did not make him a prince.
Patton didn’t notice how Cara tried to persuade the twins into thinking Logan wasn’t her prince. He was too focused on how the twins were so eager to get Logan with someone else. They jumped at the opportunity to give Cara her prince -- their own father. As if Patton didn’t matter. As if Patton wasn’t still sitting at the table with them.
Cara couldn’t just come back into Logan’s life and expect him to go along with her. She couldn’t think he would leave for her. Because he wouldn’t.... right? No. No, he wouldn’t. Logan promised he would stay. Maybe not for Patton, but for the twins. Logan always kept his promises.
Though Patton couldn’t stop the icky feeling from growing. After all, Logan probably thought Patton wouldn’t ever do what he did. And look what that got him.
“Alright,” Cara conceded with a laugh. “You’ve convinced me. Your daddy’s a prince.”
The twins high-fived each other.
“Thank God that’s over,” Logan mumbled. His face was bright red.
“Aw, c’mon, Lo-bear.” Cara playfully pushed his shoulder. “You’re a prince now. You gotta lighten up.”
“And she’s your princess,” Roman added.
Both Cara and Logan sputtered, but neither could come up with an appropriate response. Patton didn’t know how much more pain his heart could take.
After dinner, the twins insisted that Cara stick around. They liked her. They even showed her their room as Patton and Logan cleaned up the table. The merriment coming from all three of them was wholesome. Patton knew he should enjoy it, Roman and Virgil had such a hard time making friends, but he couldn’t get himself to see the silver lining. There was no other way of putting this; he was jealous.
Cara was charismatic and sweet and considerate. She knew her way with kids. She got the two most nervous eleven-year-olds Patton had ever met to like her within a few minutes. They trusted her faster than they ever trusted Patton -- than they ever trusted Logan. And it made him livid. She was perfect. She was better than Patton in every way -- why wouldn’t Logan want to go with her? It was clear even he trusted her more than Patton.
“Are you alright?” Logan cut through Patton’s unhappy thoughts.
“Never better.” Tone down the hostility. “Why?”
“Well, I just think that if you scrub that plate any harder, you might snap it in half.”
Patton stopped to process that he still had a plate in his hands and that said plate had long since been cleaned off.
“You are... okay, aren’t you?” Logan kept his eyes trained on the plate. “You’ve been a little off all day.”
Patton made a mental note of the distance between them. Of how quiet Logan’s voice was. Of how timid he sounded. A realization sparked in the back of his head. “Yeah, uh,” he deliberately put emphasis on setting the plate on the rack to dry, “sorry. I guess I’ve just kinda been spacey.”
Before either of them could say any more, Roman came running in with Leia hot on his heels. “Dad. Daddy.” He bounced in excitement. “Look! Now Cara’s really a princess.” Then in walked Virgil leading Cara by the hand. She had a large grin on her face and a makeshift crown on her head.
“A mermaid princess,” Virgil corrected quietly.
“Yes. That is my full and proper title. Mermaid Princess Cara.” She seemed to be having a lot of fun. “But I don’t think I’m the only royalty here, am I?”
Roman gasped. “Daddy needs a crown, too!”
“What?” Logan gaped at them. Cara stuck her tongue out. “No, wait --”
“C’mon, Vee.” He retreated back to the hall. Leia, tail swishing, followed him without hesitation.
Virgil paused. He looked up at Cara as if asking for permission, to which she gave him a smile. He returned it and let go of her hand to follow Roman.
Cara waited until they were out of sight before squealing. “They’re so cute!” She clasped her hands together like she prepared to beg. “Can I please have them?”
“No,” the word was out of Logan’s mouth before Patton could comprehend the question. “Get your own.”
She groaned dramatically and dropped her hands. “You never let me take the easy route.”
The twins forced Logan to wear his crown. Cara didn’t help his situation, either. She plopped it on his head with a satisfied grin. By the orders of Roman and Virgil Calon-Sanders, he wasn’t allowed to take it off until she left. And he was bound to listen to them or suffer their wrath.
Under normal circumstances, Patton would have found their shenanigans to be quite cute -- they often were -- but that awful, squirming feeling wouldn’t leave him alone. All he could think about was Logan realizing the person he and the twins deserved was Cara. The person Patton had stolen them from. Logan couldn’t possibly love Patton enough to stay even when someone better was right in front of him. Not after everything Patton had done. (And Logan's drunken confession didn’t instill confidence.) It was only a matter of time.
Roman decided to bring out Uno. It was an excuse to get Cara to stay longer. A clever one, but an excuse nonetheless. He knew she was only coming for dinner, so he had to give her a reason to stay. And Cara would take any excuse she could get. They moved into the living room and used the coffee table.
Patton decided to play with them, but he didn’t pay much attention. No one seemed to notice. They joked, and threatened each other, and had a good time without any of his input. He might as well not have been there at all. He knew he could change that. He could say something -- take part in their jokes -- but he couldn’t open his mouth. There was a chance he could ruin this, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Did he feel like the fifth wheel in his own home? Sure, but that didn’t mean he wanted to ruin his family’s fun. They deserved to have a good time even if it meant he wasn’t involved.
“You’re cheating!” Cara threw down her cards on the table. She had a full hand. Leia, who was sitting on her lap, looked up at her in offense. “I swear you’re cheating. There’s no possible way you can win so many rounds.”
Logan shrugged, a sly smirk on his face. “If you think so.”
“Daddy and Virgil always win at Uno,” Roman said. He set down his five cards. “I think they do some kind of magic.”
“I think so, too, Roman.” Cara pointed between Virgil and Logan. “Witches. The both of you.”
Virgil giggled, hiding his mouth behind the two cards he had left.
“One more round. And if either of you two win, I’m taking your dog.”
The round that ensued was one of the more intense ones of the night. Patton decided to be an observer for this one -- which turned out to be a good thing. Cara almost cussed out Logan twice for teaming up with Virgil and giving her plus eight cards. She and Roman were determined to not let them win, but their skills and luck did not amount to the tag team of the reigning Uno champions. After a long-fought battle, Virgil won with Roman in a close second.
“Alright, that’s it.” Cara dropped her absurd amount of cards. “Come on, Princess Leia, you’re my compensation for the night.”
Roman and Virgil tried stopping her before she could get up. They held onto each of her arms and spoke over each other to get her to listen to reason.
“Okay, okay. You can keep her.” She ruffled their hair when they released her arms. “But I gotta get going. I have boring adult things to do tomorrow.”
“Can’t you just spend the night?” Roman pouted.
Cara smiled. “Maybe some other time.” She gave him a hug, then one to Virgil. “It was fun meeting you two. We have to hang out more while I’m still in town. The Sea Witch is making me go across the country in two weeks. Then I’ll be stuck in Seattle for a while.”
“You should tell the Sea Witch you found your prince,” Virgil suggested. He was still hugging her side.
“I should, shouldn’t I?” She smiled at Logan. “We stopped believing I’d ever see him again.” She sighed and gave Virgil one last squeeze before standing up. Leia circled around her feet. “Thank you both for the crown. Thank you, Patton, for allowing me into your lovely home. It was nice getting to know who my favorite nerd fell in love with.”
Patton waved at her from the floor. “Thanks for coming.”
“Bye, Cara.” The twins waved at her.
Logan walked her to the door. “I’m glad we got to spend time together again. Even though you’re as annoying as ever and turned my own sons against me.” He opened it for her.
She scoffed, stepping out. “Shut up. You love me.”
“That’s nothing you can prove.”
She smiled, her eyes shining from all the emotion rushing through her. She leaned up to place a soft kiss on Logan’s cheek. “Until next time, my little worker bee.”
Patton shoved the Uno cards back in the box.
Logan closed the door with a soft smile. The tips of his ears were pink. He erased the look to go into serious dad mode. “It’s time for bed, you two.”
Roman and Virgil tried to put up a fight right away. “We’re not even tired,” Roman complained.
“It’s very late. You have to sleep now or you’re never going to get out of bed tomorrow.” He took his crown and placed it on Roman’s head. “Whoever gets ready first gets to choose what book we read tonight.”
Now that they were older, Logan only ever read to them to get them to sleep at a normal time. Patton was sure they would figure it out soon, but when it was always framed like a reward, their competitive nature would stop them from seeing it faster.
Virgil shot to his feet. “A Series of Unfortunate Events!” He ran down the hall.
“What? No!” Roman chased after him. “We haven’t finished The Girl Who Could Fly!” Leia followed, almost tripping over her own feet in her excitement.
Logan smiled a little.
In record time, the twins got ready for bed. Roman beat Virgil by mere seconds despite Virgil’s head start. Logan picked out The Girl Who Could Fly from their bookshelf. They all converged on Virgil’s bed -- even Leia joined them. She laid down at their feet, prepared to sleep. The twins were on either side of Logan, their heads resting on his shoulders. He opened the book to where they left off.
Patton decided to get ready for bed himself while this went on. It was pretty late and he was exhausted from all the mental gymnastics. If he had to keep thinking about Cara he would either start sobbing or consider manslaughter. Maybe both. Multi-task.
He was sitting on the bed when Logan came in. They didn’t say anything to each other at first, and Patton pretended to be interested in his phone.
“So are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?”
Patton shot his eyes up. Logan stood with his arms crossed, wearing one of Patton’s old t-shirts. It was common for him to steal shirts for pajamas. Patton never minded. It was always cute to see how big they were on him. “What are you talking about?”
“You’ve been acting weird all day.” He sat on his side of the bed.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Patton.” He gave him a look. “You promised me.”
Patton drummed his fingers on the back of his phone. He did promise. “Okay,” he sighed, “I’m... I’m sort of a little...” Why was this so hard? “Seeing how you interacted with Cara made me realize my own shortcomings. She knows how to make you laugh, you smile just by looking at her -- and she’s amazing with the boys. It’s almost like you all were made for each other.”
Logan studied his face. “Are you... are you jealous of Cara?”
“It sounds silly when you say it out loud.”
Then the unexpected happened. Logan laughed. A short, little sound hidden behind his hand.
Patton blinked. His brain took a second to process that Logan was laughing at him. “Are you going to laugh every time I open up to you?” He was more shocked than offended.
“No. Sorry -- I’m sorry.” He waved his hand, but the smile stayed on his face. “It’s just... Patton, Cara is like my sister. She’s always been that way. I love her the same way I love Thomas. Speaking of,” he looked away thoughtfully, “he’s probably going to scream when I tell him Cara’s in town.”
“So you don’t have the hots for her?”
Logan snorted, smiling like it was the most ridiculous thing he ever heard. “If I ‘have the hots’ for anyone, it’s you.” He cupped Patton’s cheek and gave him a slow, sweet kiss. “You’re never getting rid of me. And that’s a threat.”
“Oh, thank God.” He leaned into Logan’s hand. “But I’m not gonna lie, I’m probably still going to be a little jealous.”
“Guess that means you just have to spend more time with her.” He smirked. “I’ll set you two some playdates in the future. She’s a biter, though.” He took his hand back and laid down, curling up in his blankets. “Okay, goodnight.”
“Wait -- you can’t just say that and then --”
“Sorry, I’m sleeping.”
Patton sighed and flopped back in bed. Well, at least he knew how Logan felt. A tiny smile sprouted on his lips when he looked at the little ball next to him. Maybe this whole being open thing wouldn’t be as bad as he thought.
~~~
@actitus-hypoleucos
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emospritelet · 5 years ago
Note
Sutheracey with Lacey as the Australian ambassador's daughter : “So… apparently we’re in lockdown.” and “Please tell me there’s something edible in there”
I did that second prompt in the first chapter, so here’s the first prompt in the second chapter. I could probably use a third…
Prompt list here
[AO3]
x
Sutherland marched into the function room as though he was about to issue a declaration of war. Perhaps it might come close to that, with some of these fuckers, he thought. Coming up with an approach that everyone agrees to will be a nightmare.
“Prime Minister?”
Sutherland turned with a smile at the familiar voice.
“Madam President,” he said. “I’d like to say I’m delighted to be here, but I think we both know we’d rather be meeting in less urgent circumstances.”
President Regina Mills smiled. She was an attractive woman, with dark hair and full lips, an accomplished, decisive politician, and someone he considered a valuable ally. And the closest thing to a friend that he had amongst the world leaders, he supposed.
“Pleased to have you with us in this, Robert,” she said, and he nodded.
“Well, it’s a pandemic,” he said. “We’re all in this together, whether we like it or not.”
“True enough,” she agreed. “I just hope we can all find common purpose.”
“Limiting the number of casualties seems a good place to start,” he remarked, and she nodded, an anxious look in her eyes. He decided to change the subject. 
“How’s your wife?” he asked. “I understand you just had a son.”
Regina beamed.
“Yes, Henry,” she said, a soft look in her eyes. “He’s perfect. Emma’s at the White House, obviously. I’m hoping to get this done quickly so I can get home to them.”
“I was planning on asking you to visit the UK this year,” he said. “I think perhaps it might be next year, at this rate.”
“So it seems,” she sighed. “We’d be delighted, once things go back to normal. Assuming they ever do. And this is Ms Deville, isn’t it?”
“Well remembered, Madam President,” said Carrie. “We met only once, I think.”
Regina smiled, nodding to her. No handshakes. Not now.
“Well, now that you’re here, at least I know I’ll have sense on my side in this thing,” she said to Sutherland. “Some of the leaders are already baulking at the restrictions and the spending we’re proposing.”
Sutherland clicked his tongue.
“Well, they’re gonna have to follow the science,” he said grimly. “I don’t have time for them to want to baby-step their way through this thing.”
“Agreed,” said the President, and glanced over his shoulder, a crease appearing between her eyes. “Ah. the CDC Director’s here. Would you excuse me?”
She walked off, and Sutherland turned to Carrie, raising an eyebrow.
“She looks worried,” murmured Carrie.
“That’s what I thought,” he said quietly. “I have a feeling whatever news the Director of the CDC is bringing her isn’t gonna be good.”
“Well, I have plenty of contacts here,” she said, glancing around the room. “Let me see what I can find out.”
She slipped away, and he walked over to one of the long tables holding glasses of wine and champagne, silver trays of bite-sized canapes alongside. He ignored the food and alcohol, opting for a glass of water instead. He had a feeling he would need to keep his wits about him.
“Well, if it isn’t Prime Minister Sutherland,” drawled a familiar voice, and Sutherland turned slowly.
The last time he had seen Lacey French, she had been wearing the previous night’s gleaming blue dress, with her hair tousled and her mouth full and red from his kisses. His bed had smelt of her perfume, and he remembered burying his face in the pillows after she had left, breathing her in. That scent was in the air now, making his heart thump a little harder and his cock twitch in memory of her touch. Lacey was wearing a very respectable blue dress and jacket, her hair tied up and simple gold rings in her ears. She looked him up and down very deliberately, fingers tapping the side of her wine glass and her lips curving upward as her eyes gleamed. 
“Miss French,” he said evenly. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
“I bet,” she said, and took a sip of her drink. “Long time no see, huh?”
“Four months, but who’s counting?”
“You, by the sound of it,” she said, grinning at him. “Miss me?”
Yes. Yes, I missed you, fool that I am.
“I’m glad to see you looking so well,” he said neutrally, and Lacey pouted.
“That’s very - British - of you,” she said. “And I believe Sergeants Knight and Nolan are standing guard behind you. Hi, boys. Remember me?”
Sutherland glanced behind him, and both security officers were staring straight ahead with expressionless faces, although Nolan looked as though he was trying very hard not to think about something. He turned back to Lacey.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” he asked. “I thought you were still at university.”
She wrinkled her nose, pursing her lips a little.
“I was. Dad managed to get me an internship for a few months, so I took a deferral of my studies until September. It’s all good experience, right?”
He inclined his head, taking a sip of water.
“I don’t suppose watching the progression of a deadly disease was quite what you had in mind when you took the post.”
“True,” she agreed, looking sober. “Maybe you can help to stop it, who knows?”
“I think we’ve gone beyond containment,” he said quietly. “Mitigating our losses may be the best we can hope for.”
Lacey’s eyes widened, and for a moment he saw fear in them. He wished he hadn’t said anything. The thought came to him that she could catch the virus herself. The thought of her sick and suffering, far from home with no family or friends around her, made his hand tighten on the glass, and he took another drink to wash away the sudden burst of fear.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the visiting dignitaries start to flow towards the large briefing room that had been set aside for their meeting.
“It seems we’re being summoned,” he said. “Make sure you practice your social distancing, Miss French.”
She gave him a wobbly smile, the spark of mischief back in her eyes.
“Yeah, you too,” she said. “Maybe I’ll bump into you later. Figuratively speaking, of course.”
x
It was hours later that Sutherland made his way back to his suite. He took off his suit jacket and tie as soon as he was inside, rolling up his shirt sleeves, washing his hands thoroughly in the bathroom, and pouring himself a drink. It had been a long day; there had been presentations by medical experts and pharmaceutical firms, followed by heated discussions between heads of state, and he felt as though his brain wanted to shut down. President Mills had called a halt to the whole thing at eight-fifteen after taking an urgent phone call. Her face, when she returned to the briefing room, had been grim. There had been a spike in cases, at the upper end of the estimates given by the experts, and she had taken the decision to lock down the country for an initial period of three weeks. Which meant that everyone at the conference was stuck there too.
There had initially been uproar in the briefing room, but President Mills assured them all that they would only be kept in the hotel as long as it took for them all to be tested to ensure they were clear of the virus. Those who were clear would be able to leave on their respective planes. Sutherland had remarked that since they had planned to be there for three days anyway, it probably wouldn’t take much longer to get through the tests, so they might as well get on with the business of dealing with the global response. His statement had been met with surly resentment, and eventual agreement, and he had been reminded of the fact that dealing with world leaders and their respective egos was like trying to herd cats.
He took a sip of the whisky in his glass, walking past his open laptop on the table and flipping it closed. Work could wait until he’d had a decent night’s sleep. If that was even possible in the circumstances. God alone knew what would be facing them in the morning. He paced slowly back and forth, statistics and projections running through his head, a seemingly unending list of potential calamities waiting to crash over the world. Some of them would happen, no matter what decisions were made in the next few days. No matter what he decided, people would die, and lives would be ruined. The thought was exhausting.
The sound of Sergeant Nolan’s voice outside his rooms made him look around, frowning slightly, and Sergeant Knight cleared his throat, calm and unruffled in his dark suit.
“I’ll check it out, sir,” he said, and headed for the door.
Sutherland sipped at his whisky again, a suspicion starting to form in his mind about who his late-night visitor might be.
“Hey, it’s Lance, isn’t it?” Lacey’s voice floated into the room through the open door. “D’you mind if I call you Lance? Can your boss come out to play?”
“Mr Sutherland is a little busy, Miss French,” said Sergeant Knight.
“Huh. I bet he’s drinking whisky and pacing the room.”
Sutherland sighed, setting down his glass and marching to the door, nodding at the officers to stand aside. Lacey smirked at him, arms folded and eyes sparkling.
“So…,” she said. “Apparently we’re in lockdown. Care for some company?”
“Look, you can’t come in here!” he snapped. “Haven’t you heard of social fucking distancing?”
Lacey rolled her eyes.
“Duh. I watch the news.”
“So go back to your own room,” he said. “For all you know I could have the virus.”
“Wouldn’t matter if you did,” she said. “I’ve already had it.”
Sutherland blinked.
“What?”
“Last month,” she added. “I was one of the lucky ones. Pretty mild symptoms. Not like some of the poor buggers suffering out there.”
“Oh.” Sutherland could feel himself wavering. “You’ve had it?”
“Uh-huh.” She tilted her head, eyeing him. “So - can I come in?”
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jinterlude · 5 years ago
Text
❝Shotgun❞ Wedding
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↳ Photo ©
» Pairing: Prince!Jungkook x Queen!Reader (female OC; Sowon)
» Genre(s): Weddingplanner!AU, Relationship!AU, Royal!AU, Humor, & Friendship
» Warning(s) & Rating: mentions of alcohol, alcohol consumption, & swearing / PG-13
» Word Count: 1.1K
» Requested by: @softjeon​ -  “It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka.” Wedding Planner AU + Jungkook
» Author’s Note: This is set in the Our Second Chance universe. You don’t have to read both Fight for Me or Our Second Chance to understand the characters nor this drabble. I also changed the dialogue prompt LOL I couldn’t make the original line fit into the idea I had in mind. ;-; 
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Purple and white. Rose gold and soft gray. Red and black. How many more color themes are there? Last time you’ve chatted with your best friend, aka Princess Sumin, she locked in her color scheme for the wedding.
Now?
She has changed her mind…
Some asshat apparently told her sapphire blue and snow-colored white was a terrible choice.
You make a mental note to murder the prick if he ever steps foot in your kingdom.
Yup. You are Queen Sowon, who is now a certified wedding planner.
Oh, how quickly you regret that decision…
Looking at rose gold postcards, you recall back to the day you stupidly volunteer yourself to be the wedding planner for Sumin.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Sowon!” You quickly cover your precious ears. The high-pitch squeal soon follows that statement. You’ve memorized Sumin’s rant sequence to a “T.”
First, she rambles continuously, leaving no room for breathing.
“Oh, my god. What about Seokjin? What is going to say?!” You watch Sumin press her back against the wall and slowly slide down. Her knees tuck underneath her chin as she buries her face in her legs.
Faintly, you hear, “Seokjin is going to call off the wedding. I just know it. He’s regretting proposing to me right this moment.”
Second, she lets out a frustrated scream.
Plugging your ears, you mentally count backward from ten and as you reach one, you point to Sumin.
“AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”
Finally, she calms herself down and goes back to her usual, perky, self.
Propping up your brow, you flash the cute princess a knowing smile.
Sumin responds with a glare, flipping you off.
“I hate it when you do that…” She mumbles, standing up and dusting off her dress.
You chuckle, walking up to her, “But you love me all the same.”
Sumin mocks you before taking a seat on your cushiony bench, the bench that is located right in the middle of your luxurious walk-in closet.
You let out another airy chuckle, shaking your head as you find your closest and dearest friend a bit amusing right now.
“Tell you what, how about I plan for your wedding? I know you like the back of my hand so that I can make those decisions for you. Plus, I get to order people around and make your dream wedding come true!”
“You’d do that for me? Wait. What about your responsibilities to your throne?”
“Eh. This is more fun for me.”
“SOWON!”
You snort, berating your choice of words at that time.
“Fun, my ass…” You mutter, pouring yourself yet another shot of vodka. You grasp your fingers around the clear crystal shot glass and quickly down it. You grimace from the taste, but the feeling soon leaves your body. You fill up the glass with vodka once more and downing the alcoholic content in less than five seconds.
Now filled with liquid courage, you muster enough strength to continue with your duties as the wedding planner.
“Alright…what kind of flowers did Sumin say she wanted?” Your brows knit together. Tiny creases form on your forehead as you try your hardest to remember.
Okay…
Maybe drinking shot after shot this early in the morning is a bad idea.
Oh, well…
Hours later, feeling worried about your wellbeing, Jungkook knocks on your office door. Sumin hasn’t heard a peep from you since last night, so naturally, she asks your arm candy to check up on you.
“Alright. I’m coming in…” Jungkook announces, slowly opening up your door. As soon as he does, he’s instantly greeted with the strong smell of vodka and something else. Is that wine?
Damn…it’s worse than he thinks…
Carefully walking over to you, Jungkook observes the gigantic mess on your desk. Scratch that. Your whole fucking office. It seriously looks like a hurricane passed through.
Shaking his head, silently scolding you for not asking for help when you obviously need it, Jungkook gently places a warm hand on your back. He hears the soft snores escaping your precious lips.
“Hey, babe…” He whispers before pecking your temple sweetly.
You instantly jolt awake, alarm, and ready to murder the person who dares touching you in your vulnerable state.
“Oh, it’s just you.” You wave him off, taking the second vodka bottle and pouring your 40th shot of the day.
Jungkook gawks, and before you can throw it back, he quickly snatches it out of your hand.
“Sowon! How much have you been drinking?”
You simply shrug, “I don’t know. I lost count after the 15th shot.” You smile brightly, practically proud of your accomplishment.
Jungkook’s eyes widen but soon recovers.
“Alright…A better question is, when did you start drowning your stress with vodka?”
You purse your lips, counting on your fingers before telling them that you’ve been drinking for six hours straight.
And with just that phrase, Jungkook went into red alert.
“You’ve been drinking since six o’clock in the morning?!” He swiftly grabs the vodka bottle, noticing you reaching for it, “That’s it! No more vodka!”
You pout cutely, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Please…?” You beg sweetly, batting your eyelashes.
However, that doesn’t sway Jungkook. If it is any other favor, he’d be wrapped around your fingers, but this concerns your health — both mentally and physically.
“Why didn’t you ask for my help? You damn know well that I would help you in a heartbeat!”
His loud voice booms in your ears, startling you just a bit.
This is the second time, throughout your relationship, that he has raised his voice at you.
“You know how stubborn I am…” You tell him, rubbing the sides of your forehead. The throbbing sensation in your head worsens.
“And that’s precisely why Sumin called me up and requested that I check up on your stubborn ass,” Jungkook argued, letting out a long, hard sigh afterward.
You can’t help but wince.
You got a sigh…
Taking a deep breath, ignoring your full-blown migraine, you place your hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. Silently happy that he is still within reach. Usually, whenever the two of you argue, he creates space between your bodies. It’s never fun nor healthy to argue right into each other’s faces.
“Can you help me? You know Seokjin better than I do, and Sumin wants to pick a color scheme that will make him happy as well.”
Jungkook raises his brow as he peers on your desk. Without giving it a second thought, he says,
“The rose gold and soft-gray. I don’t know why, but the handsome fool has a thing for pink. I think it has to with his ancestor and Sumin’s ancestor.” He shrugs.
You smile sweetly and softly at him. You cup his handsome face and plant the most loving kiss on his lips.
Slowly, you pull away, teasing him a bit. You always leave him wanting more.
“You think you can help me with the other tasks on my to-do list?”
“Anything for my queen.”
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veridium · 6 years ago
Text
dirty little secret
WOAH BOY. I did not expect such a quick turn around, but when you’re writing sweet, sweet friendship, shit happens. thanks to @bitchesofostwick and her fabulous writing that got my gears going.
I have been wanting to use an all-american-rejects ref as a title since we started and now, here I am!
on this episode...Olivia awakens to find Ellinor wearing a strange fleece (HM??). BUT, that is not the only incident that surprises her, as a message left on her door gives her cause for concern. 
part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6 // part 7 // part 8 // part 9 // part 10 // part 11 
--
Her cell phone alarm goes off as it always does on wednesday: 7:30, just enough time to get her shit together before her 10am lecture. However, as she revisits the text she got the night before from Ellinor, it also becomes a beautiful morning for hearing all about her “group project meeting.” Luckily she doesn’t have to travel far, or bother with pants. Wearing an over-sized, old All-American Rejects tour shirt she thrifted a year ago, she fits the bill when lastly she slips on her pink fuzzy slippers -- the only items of her wardrobe she would accept in such a color. She then wanders a few doors down to Ellinor’s and Sera’s room. Sera is gone for a few days on some road trip to one of her many hair-brained destinations, so Olivia has no minced feelings about knocking loudly.
Knock, knock, knock. Nothing.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. Nothing again.
“Knock, knock, bitch, get up! We need coffee!”
The door rips open, and a face with slight drool on the corner of her mouth and hair tousled over her eyes appears. But, it’s not her expression that Olivia’s eyes fixate on like a moth to a fleece flame.
A Knight athletic fleece, the expensive one.
“Good morning sunsh--shit, is that…”
Ellinor jerks her chin down, suddenly coherent. Her brow furrows and she whirls around to retreat back into her lair, mumbling things while she lazily swings the door shut. Olivia, of course, slaps her hand on it and waves it open with gusto.
“Ellinor Trev--”
“NO.”
“Is he in here?!” she skips in, looking around in all corners and nooks as if Cullen is compactible like a lawn chair or something. “Oh, God dammit, I never catch your lovers! No fair!”
Ellinor crawls back under her covers and pulls them up over her head. Interestingly, she does not forsake the fleece sweatshirt that has seemed to magically exist out of nowhere.
“Is that his…”
“Mmph.”
“So it IS. You’re a filthy liar! You said you didn’t do anything in your text, I got receipts!” Olivia promptly hops onto the lower side of the twin mattress, curling her legs up under her sideways.
“I didn’t do anything. I meant it. I just...this...it was cold, okay! Why does everyone think I am magically not cold susceptible? I have questionable circulation…” she half-whines the last part, before squirming into her pillow some more like a burrowing naked mole rat.
Olivia hums, not convinced. “You got some explaining to do, and this calls for extra strong coffee. And scones. I want every detail. I’m gonna throw on some sweats or something, I won’t be long.” The casual mood she has yesterday with Cassandra has carried over through a full night’s sleep, and Olivia feels all the pomp and makeup of her typical routine to be unnecessary for once. She swats on the bump in the comforter she suspects is Ellinor’s ass before hopping back onto her feet and out into the hallway. She’ll be back to wrangle her soon enough out of the depths of her ironic despair.
Scooting her poof-slippered feet out into the hall she spots her door half-shut. Only, it’s not her door -- not the way she remembers it, anyhow. There’s...papers? Taped on it just above the doorknob. Posted notes and event reminders aren’t exactly unheard of in dorm halls, but as she walks she scans the other shut and locked doors -- nothing. Just hers has stuff on it.
When she arrives she yanks off the posted paper and notices some hastily copy/pasted clipart of some crosses mounted on a hillside. Her stomach churns as she reads the message. It’s a pamphlet-esque flyer asking the reader if their soul has been saved, and if not, resources in order to accomplish that. On the back there’s a scripture excerpt as the header, and then a list of every Church in the city limits with their contact information and addresses. It has the design skills of a 4th grader who’s project is due the morning after and all they have to use is Microsoft Word 2003.
And on the very bottom, handwritten for that special touch: “For the Slut in 21C.”
She looks both ways down the end of the hall and sees no one lurking, though the hair on the back of her neck stands up. The faces of those Church preps that pouted at her when she was on Cassandra’s bike pop into her head. Oh, it would be an interesting coffee sesh indeed.
--
What had originally been intentions to come outside casual and no muss, no fuss, turned into a black knit oversized sweater dress, thigh-high black velvet boot stilettos, and loose curls with a full face of sharp makeup. She looks like an insta model out in the light of day instead of in her cardboard box, but it is better this way: people don’t fuck with her.
They get their coffee downtown and walk out onto the sidewalk. She has class in 30 minutes, anyway. Ellinor is holding the flyer in her hand, though it’s bent outta shape from Olivia’s wrath.
“I don’t know, Liv. It is kind of concerning that they know where your dorm is. Isn’t that a hate crime if it’s targeting a member of a targeted group?”
“Biphobia getting treated as biphobia instead of ‘free speech’ discussing sexual behavior that both straights and gays sneer at? In this economy?” Olivia slips her own shades on and shoves the forsaken paper into her bag. “And besides, my dorm is easy to find out. All they’d need is one person to see me walking in, or one person who lives in the same hall as me.”
Ellinor slurps her hot matcha latte and hands it over to her, before pulling her aviator shades down from atop her head of a loose braid crown. She slides her arm through the second shoulder strap of her backpack.
Olivia is steeping. On the surface she looks straight up pissed, which is intentional. But deep down she’s nervous. This was more than she signed up for.
“What are you going to do then? It’s obvious this has to do with you hanging out with her. This is bullshit. if I was there when those punks came into the dorm, I would have shoved my timbs so far up their pastey Jesus mayo asses that….that...gah! Just really far, okay?” Ellinor grumbles and sips as they near the corner. She hasn’t had enough caffeine yet. 
Olivia veers to the left and punches the crosswalk button. She reaches into her back searching for her keys as she spots her black mini cooper parked on the curb a block from them.
“I don’t know what the fuck to do! I feel like I’ve become this Scarlet Letter for something I haven’t even done. It’d be different if we had actually, like...did stuff. But she is so prim and…” the crosswalk signals walk, and they push onward. “She goes from this super interested and focused person to hands-off and out the door faster than I can get my eyeliner wings to match.”
Olivia walks faster as Ellinor hones in on the passenger door facing the curb. “Woah that’s...that’s pretty fast.”
“You think?” Olivia faces her over the car hood as she hits the car alarm button, making the headlights flash. She unlocks fast and eyes both ends of the street for surveilling gazes before sliding in.
“At least with Cullen...” Olivia tries to keep her conversation going while settling in, tossing her bag over her head. She slides her key into the ignition and checks her mirror. Ellinor slides her drink into the center console and pulls her seat belt. She’ll need it -- Olivia has a love of driving, and that love translates into speed and mastery of a stick shift.
“At least with Cullen, what?” Ellinor replies, dreading it already.
Olivia bites her lip and eyes her. “You know...at least…” she slumps forward against her steering wheel. “At least you know what his intentions are...I mean, were, for you. He was pursuing you. He wanted to do...to do things with you.” Her tone has gotten less spirited and more melancholy. Enough for Ellinor’s initial defensive pouty face to melt into sympathy. Though, Olivia worries if it’s less sympathy and more soreness at being reminded of what she tossed up.
Dammit, Liv, she thinks to herself. Ellinor isn’t as tough as she plays.
“Well...I think she really does like you,” Ellinor comforts after a pause, her gregarious personality trying its best to rally.
Olivia twists the key to start. The engine grinds and then starts with ease, and she clutches the stick shift with her manicured hand covered in black, dramatic rings on almost every finger.
“I know she likes me. What I meant was, like...you know.”
“You said she asked if she had another...didn’t she call it a ‘shot’ or something?”
“Yeah, but, I don’t--”
“Liv, I don’t know anyone who would ask if they could be friends with someone by asking if they had another shot. Remember how we met?”
Olivia looks at her windshield and snorts. “Yeah. You asked if I had time to talk about our Lord and Savior Gerard Way at a freshman ice cream social of all fucking places. Then I sat on my retainer.”
“Hah,” Ellinor sits back, elbow on the door. “Exactly. Not ‘Do I have a shot?’”
Ellinor, in her particular brand of eloquence, has a point. Cassandra is one of the most intentional people Olivia has ever met. She doesn’t even sneeze out of line. And she doesn’t strike Olivia as the kind of person to sit idle while the things and the people she wants float on by. But, there’s something still hanging her up on it all. An unspeakable hesitancy that comes from having one foot in and one foot out the door.
“I just wish she like...did the thing.”
“Thing? What thing?”
Olivia pulls the car into gear and puts her hands on the wheel, staring out her side mirror for oncoming traffic. “You know, like, there’s a thing queer people do when they want to drop their queerness on the radar. Say you loved the new Hayley Kiyoko single, or...shit, like, you went to Pride last summer and had a blast. Something.”
“Cassandra Pentaghast at Pride? Even if she’s 1/24th lady-lover, dude, I doubt she’d be down.”
“Yeah because that’s how it works, Ellinor,” Olivia chuckles and pulls into the lane, clutches and shifts into gear again as she accelerates. “It’s just like...okay, you know what I mean. Something. Just a little tidbit. Like...letting me go home with a fleece sweatshirt.”
She only has to side-eye her once to see Ellinor’s cheeks go deep with blush, her lips rolling shut.
Olivia raises a brow and adjusts her large, round black sunglasses. “Mhm.”
“Look, I said what I said. It was cold.”
“Fine, fine. I’m only holding off on hounding you ‘cause I know you have to see him again. I can almost see his face watching you leave with it. Ugh, good shit.”
Ellinor slaps her on the arm before grabbing her drink. “It wasn’t like that, dammit.”
“Not when you were looking it wasn’t,” Olivia continues to tease in that sultry tone. “But…’as she walked off, her figure becoming shapeless in the dark and only traceable by lamp light, I knew that she took a piece of my with her...a piece, of fleece…’”
“GOD you are HORRIBLE!” Ellinor’s laugh gets louder the longer Olivia does her act. The ‘poetry recitation’ voice Olivia does is too good, too pure even in its mortification. She laughs, too, as they turn onto the boulevard which will take them directly to campus.
“You talk a good story for a cynic,” Ellinor settles down, resting her knee against the door. The woman can’t sit right in any chair to save her life.
Olivia smirks as she turns her signal on, the car arriving at the light before the campus entrance. “My Mom had those movies on all day when I was a kid, okay. I internalized that trash in between Blue’s Clues episodes.”
“Ugh, I forgot, my bad.”
They pull in and drive past all the pretty red brick building tops, and people walking with backpacks on the sidewalks or running with shorts and tanks on. Olivia notices a jogger weaving through the pairings of people walking to class and she remembers the way Cassandra looked on the soccer fields, back when she was just a tall, dark, and beautiful stranger she could pretend was all these things. Never could she have foreseen this all unfolding, but a part of her misses when it was all a mystery. When it was a mystery, she could believe that Cassandra was for sure into girls. Now, she is attached to finding out the truth, and the truth might not be so kind.
They pull up into one of the Blue parking lots and by some miracle, someone is pulling out in time for her to snag the spot. She turns in and puts it into park.
“Tits up, girl,” Ellinor sighs, grabbing for her things as Olivia turns the key back, the engine going quiet. They both adjust their bras on cue at her word.
“You’re hiding that fleece in your backpack, aren’t you?” Olivia eyes the bag, a little swollen in shape.
Ellinor glares at her. “No.”
“Ellinor,” Olivia giggles, as she pulls her drink up out of the cupholder. “You don’t want to give it back. Admit it.”
“I admit…!” she looks away for a moment and composes herself. “I...am not the owner of this garment, and I will not be keeping it. It was borrowed. I said I would give it to him during class.”
“Mhmm,” Olivia hums again, reaching for the door. Before she does, though, Ellinor is not done with her side of questioning.
“You gonna tell her what happened?”
“Why should I? What is she gonna do, challenge all the preps to a duel on quad? It’s not gonna change anything. Don’t tell Cullen, either. I’m gonna...handle it. It’ll be fine.”
Ellinor rolls her eyes. “Look, I’m not any of your horoscope apps, but the Cassandra I saw last night staring down a guy stick up for someone she barely knows, seems like the kind of person who’d like to know if people are messing with her girl.”
The phrase ‘her girl’ makes Olivia’s stomach erupt into butterflies, and she blushes and looks away towards her window. Thank goodness for giant sunglasses.
“This isn’t High School. I’m not ‘her girl,’ I’m her friend. And a friend who could quickly turn out to be more work than she wanted to deal with when she realizes all her peers want to burn her at the stake.”
“Over my dead body,” Ellinor says, before grabbing Olivia on her forearm as she tries to get out for the car. “Hey, I mean it. If it’s not Cass, it’s me grabbing a crowbar, alright? Just say when and where to aim.”
Olivia looks back at her and her lower lip curdles. “Aw, Ellinor…” she tilts her head, “you do have affectionate emotions….?”
Ellinor quickly scoffs and pushes her. Back to normal in an instant. They get out, and Olivia locks the door. Slinging her bag on her shoulder she looks around again, slightly paranoid despite her cool exterior. No pastel polo shirts and no french braid pigtails. No woman in a black long-sleeve with pants and a pixie cut. For once, she’s relieved on both fronts, and walks with Ellinor down the way towards their respective lecture halls.
On the way, OIivia elbows her in the shoulder, a sly smile on her black lips. “Thanks, babe.”
--
Later that day --
-- Hey, you didn’t say whether you’d come with to the gala next weekend. I need confirmation!!
-- Ellinor: I can, but I’m not going to! You already have someone who can go!
-- That is the opposite of what I have! I’m not inviting her. Ughhh don’t do this to me I’ll cry.
-- Ellinor: [Kim Kardashian Tragic GIF]
-- You’re the worst. How did Cullen act when you gave back the sweater?
✓ READ AT 4:12PM
If she weren’t in the library, she would have screeched like a harpie. As it was, she was not in the place or the time to do so, so her catharsis would have to wait. She shoved her phone in her bra and goes back to collecting her arms worth of books. They aren’t for her this time -- a Professor she’s TA-ing for wanted to scan and make copies of chapters for students, and asked her to do it while they...well, do Professor things.
Such as TA’s did, and Liv being a TA as a third year undergrad was an esteemed vote of confidence she did not shirk.
She comes around the aisle she’s in and decides to cut through to the stairwell. She’s down two floors from the ground level where the checkout desk is, a level that separates the boys from the men in terms of archival dedication. She balances the six or so books of varying densities, wondering how close they are to weighing the same as her.
Around another corner and she comes upon a cluster of single-seat study desks -- you know, the kind that only libraries have, with soft wood and worn out, grey-blue upholstery. A couple heads bob up from their stationed spots at them and she pays them no mind. That is, until she sees a blonde head. Blonde, wavy head.
“C...Cullen?” she says, and is promptly shh’d by someone else. Cullen himself looks up from his desk and laptop, and grins.
“Oliv--” another shh, and he gives them a pointed stare of come on man, before pushing his chair back. “How you been?”
She bobs from foot to foot carrying the stack in both her hands. “Uh, good! Good, just, doing some TA work.”
“Oh, nice. Cassandra mentioned you TA for Professor...uh, their name esca--”
“Erickson. Professor Erickson,” she smiles. “Just for the intro to political and economic theory classes. It’s not a big thing.”  It was and is a big deal. The Political Science department has a huge group of grad students who could TA or assist courses, and they often do. Taking in an undergrad for a TA position meant that undergrad could do the work they did with Bachelor’s degrees, and sometimes even Master’s degrees, under their belt. Her parents didn’t stop talking about it like that for a month after she was invited by Erickson to fill the position. Though, they made it more pompous-sounding than she would have liked.
“Yeah, well, I don’t know. Cassandra is the only other undergrad I know who TA’s.”
“She...she TA’s?”
He looks at her and his brows go together. In a sort of, ‘yeah, of course’ kind of way. Like she was supposed to know that.
“Uh, yeah! In Philosophy, I think.” Figures. The woman breathes and spews philosophy and english lit fervor like Shakespeare has used her for a horcrux. It’s...annoying. And...wonderful.
“Ah, yeah, I think she mentioned that,” she lies, and tucks hair behind her ear while balancing the stack nervously in the other arm.
“You uh, you need help with that?” he gestures to get up, but she shakes her head vehemently.
“No, no,” she replies, smiling again. “It’s fine. I need the conditioning for dance, anyways. How is your group project going?”
He grins and looks back to his desk, blinking fast. He shouldn’t have to say, she already knows. But, it’s the kindness that counts. “Oh, yeah, it’s going good. Group projects, you know. They...they are what they are.”
“Yeah, but, at least it’s with Ellinor right? It’s always better with…” she catches herself, bits her smiling lip, and looks away too. Damn, didn’t think that one through.
“It’s better with people you know, right, I gotcha,” he finishes and puts her out of her misery. He’s a good guy -- he doesn’t let anyone hang out on a limb by themselves, even if he’s a bit awkward in his solidarity. It’s easy being in his presence despite the underlying melancholy.
“Yeah, right! Sorry, my head is fried from today. Look, don’t be a stranger. Come by anytime.” she sounds like she has a house with a picket fence and not a hole-in-the-wall dorm room. The olive branch didn’t fit the ecosystem.
He smiles crookedly and nods. “For sure. Yeah. You have a safe walk back with those books.”
“Oh you know, what’s a fall down some stairs?”
He chuckles and waves his hand casually. “Whatever you say.”
She waves back and sees herself off. A couple yards away from him and she spots the staircase, she reaches in her shoulder bag while keeping her eyes on the sign that says “TO LEVEL B,” feeling for her phone and attached headphones. The papers and pack of gum get shoved in and out, and the smooth plastic of her case finally turns up. She yanks it out before the stack of books in her hand fall apart. The sound and sensation of something falling behind her to the ground pries at the back of her head, but she ignores it -- the books are heavy, and the stairs are gonna be a pain in the ass, and that pain will pale in comparison to copying individual chapters 40 copies each.
She reaches the checkout desk after a grueling journey up two flights and through another plethora of shelf rows. While catching her breath against the desk, she checks her phone. A new message sent 15 minutes prior.
Cassandra: Hey. I’m going to be grading practice midterms Friday afternoon at my TA office in Henderson Hall. I thought maybe you would have a similar workload? Want to keep each other company?
Keep each other company. How sexy. Had she said she TA’d, and Olivia just never caught that detail? That would have been something she’d remember. Oh, wait, they were talking about course-loads at one point during a walk to classes...oh, shit, that was the day Cassandra wore a blazer and took it off as she was walking and was so smooth while doing so and...and...oh. God, Olivia is too bisexual to function.
She looks up and scans the room, her gaze out of focus while she thinks. No, she has no reason to! She can deny her this once, what, does she come at her beck and call now? She has no work to do anyw--
Her email ding goes off. It’s Professor Erickson:
Hi Olivia,
My mother is in the hospital and we are heading out of town to see her. I know it’s short notice, but could you grade the stack of bibliographies in my inbox before Monday and hand them out on that day’s class? I promised the students. Just markup for Chicago style and make sure they have the 3 required sources and 2 outside, and nothing looks iffy. I’m going to cancel Friday’s class.
I might be out until middle of next week. Monday is just a hand-back day, so don’t worry about keeping them entertained after they get their work. Play a movie, maybe. Nothing too radically bootlegged, please.
Don’t worry about the chapter copies. Those aren’t needed until next Wednesday, and if you can’t get to them I will finish what you don’t. Good job today by the way explaining to that one student the difference between socialism and democratic-socialism. You are getting more concise!
Thanks!
E
Sent from my Iphone
Professors. The nerve. They emailed on phones even when it was a long-ass message, and yet threw fits when students didn’t title their emails with anything less than an oath to name their firstborn child after them. Erickson wasn’t that bad, though. A fun guy -- a bit too into loafers -- but a fun guy, and amazing Professor. And she was getting paid, which helped.
She rolls her eyes closed and groans so deep the poor library work study student flinches. She looks at them apologetically before turning her attention back to her phone.
-- Hey. Sure, but I can’t stay very long. What time?
Cassandra: Cool, no worries. Say around 6?
-- Yeah, that works. Henderson is that long building by bio sciences, right?
Cassandra: Actually, it’s the one to the left of quad. Big archway entrance. I’ll be at my desk in 10E.
Olivia sighs. Great, a big building on quad. In front of everyone. Open season continues for her. 6:00pm on a Friday? Why that time? Surely if they were exams they were not going to be handed back over the weekend. Did Cassandra have a life that wasn’t work, sport, and more work?
-- Right, I forgot. Whoops. Okay, see you then!
Cassandra: Awesome. See you. 
Cassandra: Oh, also -- this song came up on my shuffle. It’s an old one, but it’s Adele. I would appreciate if you listened to it. I think you’d like it.
Another chance for a ‘sign’ thwarted. As promised, she sends the link to a song and it is, in fact, Adele. Adele. Olivia pouts to herself. Adele is a beautiful singer, but her songs tend to sound the same to her sometimes. One of those ‘you listen to one, you listen to them all,’ kinda deals. The song is entitled “Water Under The Bridge.” Olivia had hoped it would at least be one of the romantic ones, but it hardly sounds like a profession of love or crushing. Her frustration continues to grow in her mind, and she clicks her phone to lock. 
“Alright, Ma’am, that’s it! They’re due back October 7th!” The woman on the other side of the table shoves the plastic bag of books. What a blessing to have them in a bag. She smiles, says thanks, and heads out the door into the open air of dusk. As she walks back to Jefferson Hall a few minutes away, she can’t help but look over her shoulder ever so often, hand clutching her keys in her bag. But, no one approaches or even appears, and as she gets in the door to her own academic building, it feels like it’s all in her head.
It’ll blow over. No big deal. Just have to pretend it doesn’t bother me.
She gets into the elevator and hits the #3. Thankfully, she, too, has an office to hull up in.
31 notes · View notes
may-odaigahara · 5 years ago
Text
if you love me won’t you say something?
So, uh, as promised, here’s the first chapter SuperReignCorp fic that I promised. It’s also up on AO3 for your perusal! If you could leave a comment/kudos over there, I’d really, really appreciate it. 
----
Kara surprises even herself as she and Sam flirt relentlessly, much to the chagrin of Lena. Will the three women be able to navigate their increasingly complicated relationships, and will any of them ever just look up what "polyamory" is? Will they all be able to find their happy ending?
----
Over a year from now...
“Hey, darling,” Sam greets Kara with a quick kiss on the cheek. “Is Lena home yet?”
Kara sighs fondly, shaking her head. “You know she isn’t. Apparently, she has to supervise the situation in the lab personally. Let me take your bag.”  
Sam hands her gym bag off to Kara, who hoists it up onto her shoulder as they slowly make their way to their bedroom.
“Oh, I know what that means,” Sam says. “That’s code for ‘I really want to play with the new compounds the R&D team just invented.’”
Kara laughs. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Is Ruby off at her friend’s house?”
“Yup, they’re really powering through that group project. She’s sleeping over there, too.”
“That’s a choice. A true test of friendship.”
“More importantly, that means we have all night to think about having sex while we’re actually all falling asleep instead.”
Kara grins at that and playfully smacks Sam’s butt. “Well, I’m feeling pretty awake right now. Do you think Lena will be mad if we start without her?”
“Furious. She called me into her office today to talk about some of our potential acquisitions and she stared at my legs nearly the entire time. She’s debilitatingly horny.”
“Well, you are wearing that.” Kara deliberately takes a moment to let her gaze travel up Sam’s long, long legs, perfectly on display thanks to the pencil skirt she’s wearing.
“I am, which reminds me, I desperately want to change. My pair of comfy yoga pants is screaming out my name.”
“Certainly a good choice to stop me from staring at my legs.”
“Whoever said I want you to stop?”
Sam flashes Kara a smile from over her shoulder as she walks into their bedroom. Kara bites her lips, openly admiring the sway of her girlfriend’s hips and the swell of her ass.
“You want some help changing?” Kara calls after her.
“Debilitatingly horny, Kara!” Sam responds back, from the other side of their bedroom door.
Once she’s changed into appropriate loungewear, and after Kara is finished checking her out, they head into the kitchen. Kara pours them both glasses of wine (stemless, naturally, she’s caused enough accidents already), while Sam whips up a quick cheese plate to stave off Kara’s legendary appetite until Lena gets there. They cozy up on the couch, the TV playing in the background, as they talk about their day and steal kisses and pecks and endlessly flirt. Much like with Lena, Kara just feels so free with Sam, free to express her love and her sexuality and every little feeling she has in her heart.
At one point, though, Kara just can’t take it anymore and bunches the front of Sam’s shirt up in her hand and pulls her close, kissing her deeply and passionately. Sam sighs into the kiss, gently looping her arms around Kara’s neck and drawing her in even closer. Kara never wants to leave this moment, hoping for the golden light of the setting sun to turn into amber to preserve them forever.
“Wow, you two did start without me.”
They both look up without a hint of guilt about them as they see Lena walk into the living room, a playfully stern expression on her face.
“We both still have our clothes on,” Sam says. “For us, that’s pretty good.”
“Kara, your hand is still on her boob,” Lena says.
Kara looks down to see that is, in fact, the case. Very pointedly, she leaves it there, which makes Sam laugh. “I see nothing wrong with this.”
“You two are hopeless. Let me change out of these awful work clothes and then we can order some dinner.”
“Do you want any help?” Kara and Sam both ask, at nearly the same time.
“No!”
Once they hear the bedroom door shut, they look at one another for a moment. And then they start making out again. Lena walks out just as Sam sticks her tongue in Kara’s mouth, prompting an exceptionally loud moan.
“Guys.”
Kara and Sam once again both look up at her.
“She started it,” Kara says.
“No way, you definitely started it. If you weren’t so impossibly attractive I wouldn’t be so interested in kissing you.”
“Guys, please,” Lena says. “Can we order some food? I’m starving.”
“That does sound great. All Sam gave me to eat was cheese,” Kara says.
“And fancy multigrain crackers, I’m not a monster.”
“Yeah, but that won’t come close to sating my hunger. Can we get some Vietnamese food? I want at least three banh mi.”
“Lovely. Any objections from the peanut gallery?” Lena asks, looking pointedly at Sam.
“So rude of you, my love,” Sam says. “I’m fine with that, as long as we order something with vegetables in it.”
“There are plenty of vegetables in banh mi!”
“Kara, c’mon,” Sam says.
“Great,” Lena says. “Being the adult in the room, I’ll order.”
“Need I remind you that you’re the baby in the group?” Sam asks.
“Be nice to the person getting you dinner,” Lena smiles sweetly.
Sam stands up and wraps Lena in a tight hug. “You’re my favorite. Don’t tell Kara.”
Kara also joins in on the hug, squishing her two girlfriends as much as she can. “Don’t worry, you’re Kara’s favorite, too.”
“You’re too much,” Lena says, feigning protest, but the blush on her cheeks and her delighted smile say otherwise.  
“We got her,” Kara says, looking past Lena to Sam. “She’s blushing.”
“Mission accomplished,” Sam says. “Also, can we use our L-Corp connections to make our food arrive faster? I’m really starving, too.”
“I already put the order in, so you’re just going to have to wait like a normal person, Arias,” Lena says.
Thankfully, their food doesn’t take long to arrive, though Kara does tear through an entire bag of beef jerky in the meantime. They sit down at the dining room table, the last vestiges of sunlight filtering in through the floor-to-ceiling windows and setting the clean, modern architecture of their shared penthouse alight in deep oranges and reds.
“Hey, can I be sappy for a moment?” Sam asks.
“Honey, I think you know my stance on sappiness pretty well by now,” Kara says, smiling.
Sam ducks her head, a pleased smile on her face, as Lena reaches out and squeezes her upper arm.
“I guess I do. I just wanted to say that I’m so happy that we all found one another and that we figured this whole thing out. Just a year ago I never would’ve imagined that I’d be entering a relationship with two incredible women, and look at us now.”
Kara threads her fingers through Sam’s and gives her hand a quick squeeze. Sam smiles gratefully at her.
“It just blows my mind,” Sam continues. “There were moments where I thought that I – I wouldn’t be enough for Ruby, but now I know I have you two to support me. It’s just incredible.”
“We’re here for you, Sam,” Lena says. “We’ll always be by your side, and Ruby’s.”
“Yeah, that little munchkin has really wormed her way into our hearts. We’re sticking with you, through thick and thin.”
“Thanks so much, guys,” Sam says. “I love you both very much.”
“We love you too, Sam,” Kara says.
“Absolutely we do,” Lena says.
Sam lets all of this love and affection wash over her for a moment, suffusing her with such a warmth and joy that she feels ready to burst. A sort of giddiness comes over her that reminds her of how it felt once they really started to figure everything out.
“Hey, on a lighter note, do you guys remember all of the drama we had to go through to get to this point?” Sam asks. “What a mess that was.”
“That was quite an experience,” Lena says. “I can’t believe you got together with Kara before me. Me! The person who’s had a crush on her since day one!”
“You had a crush on me since day one, too,” Sam says, grinning. “Though I could never tell. I honestly wasn’t sure if you liked me half of the time.”
Kara can’t help but laugh and Lena just pouts. “Mean.”
“I’m sorry, baby,” Sam says. “You just like to play things a little too close to the chest.”
Lena sighs dramatically. “Well, I’m glad you figured it out eventually.”
“We certainly did,” Kara says.  
Present day
Lena introduces Kara to Sam, and it's all over from there.
Kara finds Sam to be, simply put, quite fascinating in her multitudes. She’s a caring, loving mother, a tough-as-nails, no-nonsense CFO (she’s heard people around L-Corp call her the “sweetest shark you’ll ever meet”), and clearly a good friend of Lena’s. And, on top of that, if Kara’s being totally honest with herself, Sam is gorgeous, too. She feels like she can appreciate Sam’s beauty in a sort of objective sense, like she could with Lucy.
All of this means that, of course, Kara desperately wants to become friends with her. She doesn’t want to just become acquaintances or have them learn to tolerate one another for Lena’s sake, she wants them to be real, honest-to-god friends. As always, Kara can’t think of any better way to start a friendship than to share a meal. Which is why she finds herself leaning against the doorway to Sam’s office, a list of nearby restaurants open on her phone.
“Kara,” Sam greets, smiling, though it doesn’t quite meet her eyes – a business smile, exactly what Kara wants to grow beyond. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Your assistant – great dude, by the way – tells me that you conveniently have a whole hour free right at noon. Want to grab lunch?”
“This is off the record, right? I just had a reporter sniffing around the offices and he was a pain to deal with.”
“Completely off the record, we’re just getting lunch together as friends. Though if you want me to write a scathing article about that annoying reporter, I’d be happy to.”
Sam laughs, and Kara counts that as a win.
“You know what? Let’s do it,” Sam says, standing up. “Unlike Lena, you’ll find that I actually enjoy leaving the office every now and again.”  
“That’s good to hear. I had to convince Lena not to convert that one conference room by her office into a bedroom.”
Sam just shakes her head. “I love Lena, but she can be crazy sometimes. That’s like in college when I had to stop her from bringing a sleeping bag down to the engineering labs. So, where are we going, Danvers?”
Sam grabs a baseball cap from the coat hooks on the door to her office and jams it onto her head, its casual flair clashing pleasantly with her sharp business clothing. Kara is struck by just how pretty Sam is for a moment, and it takes her a moment to find her voice again.
“Oh, right, sorry,” Kara says, as they slowly make their way to the elevator. “I have a couple of options. There’s a good vegan restaurant pretty close by, if you’re as dedicated to salad as Lena is, a really fun Uzbeki place literally a block away, and if you really don’t care about that blazer that I can only assume costs as more than my entire outfit, there’s an incredible barbecue place that just opened up in the building over.”
“I’m a risk-taker, Kara,” Sam says. “Let’s go with barbecue.”
Kara beams at her. She likes her already.
“You’re eating all of that for lunch?” Sam asks.
Kara looks down at her plate of food, which is piled high with brisket and accompanied by a side of cornbread and baked beans.
“Yeah, let’s say I’m bulking?” Kara answers.
“Is that a question?”
“I just really like food,” Kara says, somewhat bashfully.
Sam just shrugs. “Respect. You must work out a lot.”
“Yeah, I do. I did, like, all of the sports in college, so I’ve at least kept up with staying in shape. It’s fun, and if I have a really hard day at work, I can just go to town on a punching bag.”
Sam raises an eyebrow at that. “No kidding? I know we just met, but I have to say, it’s hard imagining you taking your frustrations out like that.”
“It really works! It’s very cathartic. And, look, I know I have the whole ‘Sunny’ Danvers reputation, but I get pissed off, too. Especially working with Snapper Carr as my boss, goodness.”
“Yeah, I think I know how you feel. I’ve spoken to that man once. Once.”
“I take it that didn’t go well?”
“Let’s just say that he knows who’s signing off on his paychecks.”
Sam says this with such imperiousness that it only makes it funnier when she, moments later, bites into her pulled-pork sandwich and sauce dribbles down her chin. Kara can’t help but laugh.
“Sorry,” Kara says. “That was just incredible timing.”
“You laughing at me, Danvers?”
“I’m laughing with you, Arias.”
Sam cracks a grin at that. “Good answer.”
It’s in that moment Kara decides that, yeah, she does really like Sam. She can only hope that Sam likes her, too.
(Sam does like her, too.)
“So, after he pushed me into the pool, I decided to swim an entire lap just to show off and when I make it back over to him, I splashed him with as much water as I could,” Kara says, grinning. “Needless to say, we both got kicked out of mathletes.”  
Sam and Lena both burst out laughing, drawing the attention of some of the other patrons in the bar.
“Wow, what a turn,” Sam says. “You had a weird high school experience, Kara.”
“Seriously,” Lena says. “At my boarding school it was all political intrigue and backstabbing and sex and way, way too much cocaine. So boring.”
Sam and Kara just stare at one another for a moment, before staring at Lena.
“How could you possibly think that’s boring?” Kara asks, bewildered.
“We’ve known each other for how long and you haven’t told me any stories about your boarding school days?” Sam says.
“Oh, it’s really nothing. This was one of the tamer boarding schools, and – oh, excuse me,” Lena says, as her phone goes off. She glances down at the number before smiling apologetically at Kara and Sam. “Sorry, I’ve got to take this. CEO stuff.”
“No problem,” Kara says.
“Make that money, sister,” Sam says.
“Thanks,” Lena says. “You two will be okay with each other, right?”
“Lena, answer your damn phone before they think you’re ignoring them,” Sam says. “We’ll be fine.”
Lena gives them one last apologetic glance before picking up her phone and swiftly exiting the bar to find a quiet spot to hold her conversation.
“Oh no, our mutual friend has left us alone,” Kara says. “Whatever will we talk about?”
“I have no idea!” Sam says. “Our social interactions are always so awkward!”
They stare at each other for barely a second before they both start laughing.
“That was a good one,” Kara says, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. “Hey, how’s Ruby’s soccer team doing?”
“Incredibly! My little girl has a killer instinct out on the field. I’m so proud,” Sam says, hand to heart.
“You’re terrifying. I respect that.”
“Oh, am I?” Sam asks, leaning in a little closer. “Are you scared right now, Danvers?”
Though Kara’s heart is hammering in her chest at their sudden proximity, and though it feels as if they’re now the only two people in the bar (she doesn’t have the time to unpack all of that right now), she just raises an eyebrow, staring defiantly back at Sam. Kara knows she’s not usually like this, given how prone to stammering and quick to getting flustered she is, but Sam just brings this side out of her. It fascinates and terrifies her in equal measure.
“Should I be?” Kara asks, playfully.
“Good answer,” Sam says.
Their conversation flows easily, and Kara is more thankful than ever that she started grabbing lunch with Sam whenever they could find some time. When Lena does come back, a dozen apologies waiting on the tip of her tongue, she sees Sam and Kara laughing uproariously at something. They’re sitting angled towards one another, away from the bartender and all of the other patrons, lost in their own little world. And, their knees are touching. Lena feels her stomach churning.  
“Lena!” Sam says, finally tearing her attention away from Kara. “What’s the damage? Is our company still afloat?”
“Well, our more irritating board members will be furious that I’ve put the final nail in the coffin of our weapons division,” Lena says, managing a smile. “But, yes, you will still have a job after this weekend, Sam.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” Sam says. “Work is the only way I get to see your pretty face every day, Lena.”
“You’re so sweet,” Lena says dryly. “So, it seems as if you two are getting along well.”
Kara and Sam exchange a glance.
“Well, yeah, I would hope so,” Sam says. “We’ve been grabbing lunch together when we can.”
“We’ve been trying to invite you!” Kara is quick to say. “You’re just always, y’know, busy. Jess is very adamant about that.”
Lena sighs dramatically, trying her best to hide her excitement over Kara’s enthusiasm to include her. “Yes, she is, tragically, very good at her job. I’ll have to carve out some time to join you. I’d hate for you to have all the fun.”
“Exactly!” Kara says excitedly, reaching out and grabbing Lena’s hands. “We have to spend more time together. We can be like the all-women three musketeers. Hmm, wait, what famous female trios are there?”
“Sleater-Kinney,” Sam throws out immediately.
“Charlie’s Angels?” Lena adds in.
“Ooh, and Destiny’s Child!” Kara says. “Okay, wait, I guess there are a lot. There’s TLC, too, and…���
If someone were to write out a transcript of Sam’s current internal monologue, it would just be the word “fuck” in all-caps. This awful meeting they’re in, where a small contingent of board members are desperately arguing against Lena’s proposed green energy initiatives, has managed to go two full hours past its scheduled time. Sam was supposed to leave to pick Ruby up from school thirty minutes ago. Normally it wouldn’t be too big of a deal, since Ruby is preternaturally understanding for a teenager, but she had a huge test today that was really stressing her out and Sam wants to be there for her.
“Gentlemen, how much longer is this going to take?” Sam finally asks, staring pointedly at the men responsible for her being kept away from her daughter.
“We have to figure this out now!” an awful, wiry, pink-faced man bloviates. “The end of the fiscal year is almost upon us, and if we’re going to force ourselves to take on these green initiatives, we’re going to have to be serious about finalizing the budget.”
You’re going to die before the climate crisis gets bad enough for you to care about, so you’re useless in this conversation, Sam thinks and nearly says out loud, but doesn’t.
“Fine,” Sam says. “Let me pull up some data, since you’re only ever impressed by spreadsheets.”
Lena flashes her a sympathetic look as she angrily pulls out her laptop. Before she can dive into her mountains of data, she quickly pulls up her messaging app to find someone to pick up Ruby in her stead. Her contact list is awfully thin, and there’s basically only one option who actually lives in the city.
Kara.
Hey, I’m really sorry about this. Can you pick up Ruby from school? I’d really appreciate it.
As soon as she sends the message, she feels extremely foolish. She’s almost friends with Kara, maybe, but it certainly doesn’t feel like they have the kind of relationship where Kara would be picking up her daughter from school. It’s not that she doesn’t trust Kara, it’s more that she doesn’t want to inconvenience her. Ruby and Kara have only met once before, on top of everything else.
As she waits for Kara to respond, she quickly pulls up a spreadsheet and throws it up on the projector screen.
“We’ve conducted an extensive cost-benefit analysis of these green programs,” Sam says. “I’ve highlighted the obvious benefits we’d get at one, five, and even twenty years out. Lena, would you mind expanding upon this?”
“Certainly,” Lena says. “Green programs are our future. As you can see, investing in our future results in…”
Sam turns her attention back to her laptop screen, where she’s surprised to find that Kara has already responded.
I’d love to!!! Ruby and I are going to be best friends, just you wait. Just text me the address and I’ll be there right away!
This message is followed by about twenty emojis that Sam can’t even begin to decipher the meaning of. It’s so cute that she has to cover up her smile with her hand, and quickly texts the address and an exuberant thank you back to Kara. She also quickly texts Ruby.
Hey, munchkin. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there, but Kara is going to pick you up from school today.
Ruby, who’s probably just gotten out of classes, quickly responds.
No problem!
Kara is cool
She has to finish telling me the story about how she almost met CRJ, too
Sam lets out a sigh of relief. Ruby will be in good hands.
When Sam finally gets out of the meeting, after she and Lena have successfully eviscerated the absolutely fools on the board, she drives off to where Kara told her to meet them. It’s at a local burger place, unsurprisingly, and she finds the two of them sitting on the roof of Kara’s car.
“Arias!” Kara greets cheerfully. “We saved one for you.”
“Kara really wanted to eat it, but she didn’t!” Ruby adds in.
Kara reaches into the greasy, paper bag perched on the roof of her car and tosses a burger wrapped in foil at Sam, who catches it easily with one hand. If she’s being honest with herself, Sam really enjoys the impressed look that Kara gives her at that.
“She did, huh?” Sam asks, smiling. “How nice of her.”
“Lena texted me too and said that you were stuck in the world’s worst meeting,” Kara says. “Burgers always make me feel better.”
Sam peels away the layers of foil and nearly moans out loud at the sight of the cheesy, double-patty monstrosity in her hands. She takes a hearty bite.
“Can’t disagree with that, Danvers,” Sam says, between bites. “This burger is incredible, I’ve never been here before.”
“Kara has been to all of the burger restaurants in the city!” Ruby says excitedly. “We have to try them all, mom, they sound so good. She’s ranked them all, so it’ll be easy to pick and choose which ones to go to first.”
Kara blushes but looks exceptionally pleased by Ruby’s enthusiasm, and Sam feels absolutely delighted.
“Well, that sounds like a good adventure,” Sam says, mussing up Ruby’s hair with her free hand. “Where does this place rank?”
“Number three, actually, this place is super good,” Kara says. “My only knock against them is that their fries aren’t quite as crispy as numbers one and two, but that’s a small flaw.”
Sam laughs. “I love how into food you are.”
“We can get burgers with Kara, mom! She’ll teach us all their secrets,” Ruby says.
Sam’s smile grows even wider. Ruby’s a sweet kid, sure, especially for a teenager, but even she doesn’t usually warm up to adults this quickly. Kara really is something special.
“Well, I’m down for it,” Sam says, before turning her gaze to Kara. “Danvers?”
“Oh, getting burgers with two of my favorite people in the world? I’m so in.”
Kara and Sam just smile at each other for an extended beat, before Kara looks away, bashful, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. Sam just chuckles before taking another bite of her burger.
“So, Rubes, how did that big test go?” Sam asks.
“Eh, not bad,” Ruby says, shrugging. “I had time to double-check all of my answers, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
“Always good to double-check your answers,” Sam says. “I’m sure you did great.”
“Yeah, I hope so,” Ruby says. “I’m just glad it’s over.”
Their conversation flows easily as Sam finishes up her food. Already she feels as if the stress from the day – and she had been holding on to a lot of stress – has already melted away. She wonders if this is perhaps Kara’s superpower: getting overworked businesswomen to just relax, for once. It’s a good one, in any case.
“Alright, kiddo, I think we should head home,” Sam says. “Go get in the car and grab the aux cord, it’s your turn for music.”
Ruby’s face lights up and she practically sprints towards Sam’s luxury sedan, leaving just Kara and Sam in the parking lot.
“Hey, thanks again for picking her up,” Sam says. “I really appreciate that.”
“Oh, it’s no problem. Ruby’s school is super close to CatCo, anyway,” Kara says. “Besides, she’s great. We didn’t just talk about burgers, too. We ended up talking a lot about biology, since that’s what her test was in and I majored in that in college. I like to think I helped her appreciate the subject just a little bit more.”
“That’s so nice of you, Kara. And, wait, you majored in biology?”
Kara shrugs. “I double-majored in biology and communications, and minored in sociology. I wanted to do everything.”
Sam chuckles, wholly unsurprised that Kara has the degrees to back up her obvious smarts. “Well, seems like you succeeded there. You’re very impressive, Kara.”
Kara smiles at her again and Sam gets lost in it. She wants to stay in this moment forever, even though they’re in the parking lot of some burger place in National City. The sun is setting, suffusing even this place with some sort of magic, and Kara herself seems to glow beneath the orange and red and pink light.
“Hey, get dinner with me,” Sam says. “If you want. This Saturday. Consider it a thank you for picking Ruby up. And for this delicious burger.”
Kara smiles, once again messing with her hair.
“I – I would love that, sure,” Kara says. “Let’s do it.”
Sam smiles back at her, feeling suffused with a warmth that can’t be explained away by the National City sun. 
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cherryyharryy · 6 years ago
Text
Show and Tell pt 3
Read part 1 here
Read part 2 here
ok this is the last part. It’s a little longer. Please let me know what you think!!!!
Part 3
Y/n’s apartment wasn’t tiny, it wasn’t big by any means, but she’d had enough room for a few parties and it took more than three seconds to walk from her kitchen to the bathroom. But having spent every second of the past week closed off from the world...the walls had to be closing in, they just had to be.
Her phone was nearly as bare as when she’d first bought it, all traces of an online social life deleted during a midnight sob fest, along with the constant flow of texts from her family and friends who were concerned. She had a list of excuses for her boss for whenever she could will herself to step outside her door let alone go to work. And then the crying ensues once more when she remembers that all she needs to slap down on their desk is a copy of this week’s Cosmopolitan.
“Who is it?” Her voice cracked as she unraveled from the thick blanket Harry had given to her for Christmas, stepping lightly towards her door with an angry fist on the other side.
“Your favorite sister-in-law.”
“Oh, God,” y/n murmured to herself.
“I have ice cream!”
Gemma was in fact, equipped with the typical girl-to-the-rescue essentials, rocky road ice cream included among other teeth-rotting treats. All things Harry would hiss at with a smirk.
Fucking Harry. She’d made it fifteen seconds without his smug face behind her eyes.
“I’ve already tried making myself feel better with food.” Y/n kicked the door shut while Gemma situated the mound of junk food on her kitchen island. “Doesn’t. Work.”
“I know it’s no cure, but just think about how annoyed he’d get if he saw all this shit.”
Y/n’s lips curled into a smile for the first time in a long time. “All right, you got me.”
***
“Ugh, I hate when Ross is with Emily.”
“I know,” y/n gushed, biting off the end of a twizzler. “They were so wrong for each other from the beginning!”
“Speaking of…” Gemma started, sighing when y/n rolled her eyes. “You didn’t think I’d come over here and not ask, did you?”
“A girl can dream, can’t she?”
The bag of twizzlers was snatched out of y/n’s hand and Friends was paused on a commercial.
“What happened?”
Y/n peeked out from under her lashes, swallowing against her dry mouth. “What—he didn’t tell you?”
Gemma shook her head. “He hasn’t said much to us other than he’s pissed, and he’s never buying candles again, whatever the hell that means.”
“I’m not even sure how it got to this point. We were fine, at least I thought we were fine...now I’m wondering if things weren’t as okay as I’d imagined.”
Gemma nodded, biting her tongue so she wouldn’t push her into anything she wasn’t comfortable with sharing. “Sometimes we have to take a step back before we get a clear view of the picture. When you’re around someone so much, especially someone you do care for, it’s easy to miss those red flags popping up.”
“I want to say it’s all his fault…”
“But…”
“But I can’t. I’m not exactly innocent here, as much as I’d like to be.”
***
The fumes boiling inside Harry didn’t settle so easily. Every time he checked Twitter to mindlessly scroll through late at night, there was always something about him, or rather her. Speculations were running wild, and he couldn’t stop his brain from succumbing to the same question across all the headlines.
Are they broken up?
Did his fame scare her away?
Are they in love?
A cycle of fear and guilt coursed through him daily, topped off by the pit of anger that was never fully sated. Deep down he knew, he knew he’d have to point his finger at himself, he just wasn’t ready to. Not when he hadn’t heard her voice or seen her face in weeks.
“Sooo, Valentine’s Day.”
Harry moved the chicken around his plate, shrugging his shoulders. “What about it?”
“Come on,” Gemma scoffed. “It’s the national day of love. How perfect would it be if you two—”
“Stop. I didn’t agree to lunch to have this conversation. We’re fine.”
“Oh really?” Gemma raised a brow, abandoning her soup to cross her arms over her chest. “Then please explain to me why you’ve been nothing but a pouting baby—”
“I have not!”
His sister rolled her eyes, chuckling under her breath.
“I mean it.” He sighed, dropping his fork against the plate and digging his palms against his eyes. “Okay. I may have screwed up. But so did she.”
“Mhm.”
“She—you just don’t get it. I...ugh!”
Gemma clanked her spoon against the steaming bowl. “Sooo, Valentine’s Day.”
***
Their first date wasn’t iconic. There was no fancy dinner or sweet picnic by the lake. No hungry kisses under an unexpected rain or shy goodbyes at either’s doorstep. But as more and more dates were added, the first one was long forgotten, and often lied about when their family asked or the few friends who were included in on their relationship were begging to know where Harry took her.
Which is why Harry was begging the universe to let things play out differently this time.
He tightened his coat around his neck and breathed into his clasped hands before stuffing them into his pockets for whatever warmth they could provide. His nose was a bright red and his toes were numb, and if he recalls correctly, history was already repeating itself.
It wasn’t until y/n strode around the corner, all bundled up, with the hood of her coat draped over her head that his nerves kicked into high gear. Her skates hung over her arm and her breath swirled in a mini fog every few seconds. Her eyes were bright though, standing out amongst the generous snow that had appeared overnight.
“Hi.”
“Hey.” He bit his tongue to stop the pet names from slipping out. It was too soon. “I’m glad you came.”
She shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I?”
I can think of a few reasons…
“I’m just happy to see you. S’been a while.” He sucked in the cold air, letting it fill up his lungs before his next words. “A month and nine days.”
“Ten. A month and ten days.”
“Yeah, yeah s’what I meant.” He cleared his throat and picked up his skates, nodding over his shoulder. “Shall we go?”
Y/n nodded and followed him towards the frozen pond. They sat beside each other on a little bench and slipped their shoes off, their eyes casually drifting to the side, and apologies were exchanged when their elbows bumped together. Once they were ready they stepped onto the ice, slowly. Y/n turned to ask him if he was alright, but his bare hands caught her eye.
“Harry, your hands are gonna freeze!” Y/n ripped her gloves off and held them out, face scrunched up in concern as he stared down at her hands.
*
“You steady?”
“Yeah.” Her giggles were music to his ears, the reassurance he needed that this date was going well. She was happy. And he was on top of the world. “I haven’t gone ice skating in years.”
They found their rhythm, a few laps around the pond with nervous glances and shy smiles. It wasn’t until Harry’s confidence molded into cockyness that things started to go downhill.
“Can you go backwards?” He slid up beside her, holding back the urge to tuck her hair behind her ear.
“I’m lucky I can stand up!”
“It’s not too hard, look.”
Harry did manage to make it three feet before his balance started to cave. He caught himself, sparing the embarrassment he would have endured if he’d fallen on his ass.
“See?”
Y/n dug her teeth into her lip, shaking her head but decided to try anyway—after all, Harry was a klutz on land, if he could do it, so could she.
“Okay.”
“Just take it slow, like that! Good! You’re getting it!”
When she looked up she had the biggest smile on her face, the last one for the night that would be molded into his mind forever. Right as Harry was about to congratulate her, her skate slipped and her body lurched forward. She ended in a suspense of wobbly limbs, the desperate search for her stable balance when Harry’s hand shot out to steady her. But he was wearing his new gloves, the leather ones that came with a heavy price tag, the ones with no grip.
He managed to grab her arm only for his hand to slide down the length of her coat, and when he tried one last attempt to link their hands together the only thing he accomplished was hauling her to the ice. Her body flipped and her screams sent chills down his spine.
“Y/n!” He dropped to his knees, ignoring the cold and the burn. “Sweetheart, darling, I’m so sorry! You okay? Say something, please, love! Say you’re alright!”
When he helped sit her up the only thing coming out of her mouth were groans and mumbles about her head. Harry tore his blasted gloves off and reached behind, pressing his hand against the back of her head to feel for any kind of a bump, but what he felt was wet, and when he brought his hand back it was covered in a bright, red blood.
“Oh my God, oh my God! We gotta go, gonna take you to the hospital.”
“What?” She groaned. “Why? I just fell?”
“Wait here.” As fast as he could move he raced to get the shoes she’d left near his. Her skates were pulled off and replaced, then he helped her to her feet. “Come on, go slow, easy.”
“Is that blood?” She froze on the ice, eyes widening at his hand grasping her arm.
“Yeah, yeah, m’takin’ you in. You’re gonna be fine—”
“That’s not—that’s not from my head!” She reached her own hand back, yanking it before her worried eyes. “Oh my God!”
“You’re gonna be fine, sweetheart. But we gotta get you to a hospital.”
*
He shook his head, swallowing the lump in his throat. “No thanks, m’fine.”
“Harry, please, I think these will fit. They’re wool, they’ll stretch.”
“You need them.”
“I have more.” She pulled a second pair of gloves from the pocket inside her coat and slipped them on. “Now take these.”
He slowly slid the gloves over his hands, careful not to catch them on his rings. They stretched enough, it wasn’t a comfortable fit, but it kept the bite of winter air from stinging his skin.
“Thank you.”
She nodded and adjusted her hood before skating away. Harry kept his eye on her as she rounded the pond, once, twice, and then the third time she stopped a few feet away.
“Why aren’t you moving?”
He shrugged. “Don’t feel like it I guess.”
“But this was your idea?”
“Yeah, it was.” His head dropped to his chest, and the familiar shake of his shoulders had y/n skating up to him. “M’sorry.”
“What are you sorry for? We can leave—”
“I miss you. I miss you so fucking much.” His eyes were filled with tears ready to spill when he looked up. They were a bright, glassy green, with the flecks of burnt gold on full display.
*
“Your eyes…”
“What about ‘em, love?”
“They’re...green…”
Harry chuckled and pulled the bandage further up her head. “Get some rest, darling. Y’keep fidgeting, your gonna push the bandage off.”
“And gold…”
“What?” He laughed.
“There’s gold in there, I see it.”
The lights went out as the nurse pulled her cart out of the room, reminding Harry she’d be back in half an hour to check on y/n’s head.
“Why don’t you try to sleep.”
“I am asleep.��
“No, love, just a little relaxer y’got in there. Loopy, yes, how about you close your eyes, hm? M��not goin’ anywhere.”
She did as he asked and let her eyes drift shut, humming a soft melody as Harry pulled a chair up to her bed.
“Y/n, go to sleep.”
“S’your fault y’know?”
“I’m sorry, I’ll shut up now, okay?”
“No.” She shifted in the bed, kicking the blanket away and pulling it back up to her chin. “When I fell. Woulda landed on my hands if you hadn’t grabbed me.”
“I—I was tryin’ to help.” His voice was a choked whisper.
“Best first date ever.”
She drifted off after that, which Harry was thankful for, thankful for the thirty minutes he had to break down in the corner of the room before he had to pull himself together.
*
“It’s just too much, being here. Thought it’d be nice but, but it’s not. I’ve tried so hard to protect you, and I can’t,” he cried. “I hurt you no matter what.”
“Harry you can’t take all the blame.” Y/n sighed and tugged on his sleeve. “C’mon, let’s go sit down.”
They ended up in Harry’s car with the heat on full blast. His eyes had dried up but neither of them had uttered a word. Three songs had run their course, and once the fourth started, y/n hit the dash to silence the radio.
“I’m sorry,” she sighed. “I know you wanted to keep me safe...but I think things got out of hand. It wasn’t healthy...what we were doing.”
Harry’s eyes dropped down to the gloves resting in his lap. “We didn’t talk. I never knew how you were feeling...just assumed that keeping you hidden was how I could keep you happy.”
“I’m happy because I have you. You’re what makes me happy.” She reached her hand over the console and slipped her fingers between his, warding off the last of the cold. “I shouldn’t have outed us the way I did. I was angry, and hurt, and, I just wanted to have the upper hand. It always felt like you did...and I guess I wanted you to have a taste of losing it.”
“I never meant to control you like that.”
“I know, baby. I know you had good intentions.” She squeezed his hand, offering a small smile. “I should have spoke up,” she whispered. “It’s not fair that I expected you to read my mind.”
Harry’s shoulders relaxed back into the seat. He returned a broken smile and reached his hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “I still love you, y’know.”
“I love you too.” His cheeks were a bright red when she pressed her lips against them, traveling to his mouth where they spent a generous amount of time together.
“We have a lot of time to make up for.”
“A month and ten days,” Y/n hummed. A moment later her face twisted into concern. She ran her tongue over her lips before speaking. “We don’t have to go back out there, do we?”
Harry laughed, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “Not if you don’t want to.”
“Did you really think it was a good idea to try and recreate our first date?”
Harry put the car in drive, keeping one hand intertwined with hers in her lap. “S’Gemma’s idea! Went on and on about Valentine’s Day!”
“Well I guess it worked.”
“We’ll have to let everyone know.”
***
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seriestrash · 6 years ago
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The List - Chapter Five
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- 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 -
Summary: It’s summer vacation and TJ and Cyrus fill their days checking things of Cyrus’ list.
Read on AO3
Chapter Five: Overnight  - PART ONE
Word Count: 3892
It’s been two days since Cyrus' impromptu rollerskating lesson with TJ and Walker. Today Cyrus is spending some quality time with his dad and stepmother whilst TJ is occupied with some of his basketball friends. 
Cyrus is currently out to lunch with his parents at some fancy vegan restaurant even though none of them embrace that lifestyle full-time. Cyrus is poking at the chickpeas in his salad when his phone buzzes. Normally his parents would scold this but his father and stepmother were too engaged in their own conversation to notice him pull his cell out of his pocket.
Cyrus’ smile widens when he sees it’s a text message from TJ. 
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Cyrus laughs quietly to himself at TJ’s broken heart emoji reply. 
“What’s got you so happy?” Sharon coaxes her head with a raised brow. 
“Nothing.” Cyrus says defensively, “It’s just TJ.” 
“Oh, TJ,” Sharon bops her head, “He’s the tall one you’ve been spending time with?”
“Yep.” Cyrus laughs nervously and he’s not entirely sure why. “He’s babysitting his brother and sister tonight and asked if I wanted to stay over. Is that okay?” 
“A sleepover?” Cyrus’ father, Norman poses it like a question, “You haven’t had a sleepover with a friend since the girls were little.” 
“Thanks for the reminder, dad.” Cyrus mumbles to himself and he reflects on the time he became aware that boy/girl sleepovers were not considered normal and it ultimately making him feel like the odd one out in their friendship. 
“Well I don’t see why not.” Norman nods with a smile, “You be sure to thank his parents when you see them and extend the same offer to TJ. I can’t speak for your mom and Todd but I’m sure he’s just as welcome at their house anytime.” 
Cyrus finishes up with his parents and goes home to pack an overnight bag before Sharon gives him a lift to TJ’s apartment building. 
Cyrus had been here before, depending on what they were doing for the day it was quicker for Cyrus to walk by TJ’s apartment first when leaving from - or going home to - his mom’s house but it was a bit further from his dad’s. Although he’d been here before Cyrus had never actually been inside which wasn’t too odd to Cyrus because TJ had only popped inside Cyrus’ house a couple times when hanging out, to use the bathroom or grab a drink quickly before they moved on to whatever activity they had planned next. 
Although they had gotten comfortable with each other over the end of the school year and a lot closer in the first few weeks of summer the two had never had a sleepover before and it was making Cyrus anxious. He hadn’t had a sleepover - other than the occasional cousin sleepover during family gatherings -  since he was 10 years old and even back then it was with his two female best friends. Cyrus didn’t know what to expect from a boys night, especially since he knew he didn’t favour a lot of ‘typical’ male interests. This was evident at how out of place Cyrus could feel when trying to impress Jonah. 
Cyrus stands out front of the building and texts TJ to let him know he’s waiting downstairs but after a few minutes pass and his text goes unanswered, Cyrus steps up to the intercom and calls the room listed under Kippen. 
A woman Cyrus assumes is TJ’s mother answers, Cyrus had never actually met TJ’s parents despite TJ having met all four of his at either his bash mitzvah or in passing during one of the times they’ve hung out over the summer. 
Cyrus makes his way up to the second floor and wraps his knuckles on the door that reads ‘2A’.  A little girl answers, Cyrus knows this to be TJ’s little sister as he had seen TJ tagged in a photo with his younger siblings on facebook. 
“Hi, I’m Cyrus.” He smiles at her, “TJ’s friend.” 
“Katie, you’re not supposed to answer the door.” A woman comes jogging into view. 
“You said he could come up.” She refers to the intercom call. 
“You’re still not supposed to open the door.” She says firmly and Cyrus sensed the woman was a little frazzled over something. “Now go tell you brother, Cyrus is here.” 
With a pout she runs off down the hall. TJ’s mother turns to Cyrus with a wide smile and introduces herself as Tess before leading him towards the kitchen. She’s speaking quickly as they walk but Cyrus managed to decipher what she was talking about. Tess was expressing how it was nice to finally meet Cyrus after hearing so much about him, especially over the summer. 
“It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Kippen.” Cyrus returns the sentiment politely. 
“It’s Ms. and Tess is just fine thank you.” She corrects kindly. 
Cyrus smiles and nods. He didn’t know TJ’s parent’s weren't together but after thinking about it for a moment Cyrus realised TJ didn’t talk about his family much at all and when he did, he didn’t talk about his father ever. 
“Sorry I’m in a bit of a rush to get ready for work.” Tess apologises. 
“That’s alright.” Cyrus hovers by as she flits around the kitchen and he was quietly hoping TJ would surface soon. 
“Junior!” Tess calls out for TJ and Cyrus lets the faintest laugh escape before he stifles it quickly. “He’s always got his headphones on.” Tess turns to Cyrus with a sigh. 
Katie skips into the kitchen and Tess gives her attention to the young girl, “Katie I thought I asked you to get TJ?” 
“You told me to tell my brother Cyrus is here, so I told Cooper.” She laughs devilishly and Cyrus cracks a smile at this. 
“Take Cyrus to TJ’s room please,” Tess lets out a deflated breath. 
Katie grabs Cyrus’ hand and drags him down the hall, the gesture made Cyrus’ heart ache with cuteness overload. 
Katie barges into TJ’s room without knocking and Cyrus is dragged along in the process. 
“Teej, your friend is here!” Katie says loudly and she drops her hold of Cyrus’ hand. 
A very surprised TJ flicks the headphones off his ears and stops whatever he was doing at his desk. “Cyrus?”
Cyrus is confused by the sight for a second, TJ was at his desk, a mess of loose papers scattered across it, rounded glasses perched up high on the bridge of his nose. All Cyrus can respond with is, “You wear glasses?” 
“No.” TJ sheepishly plucks them from his face and throws them at the desk.
“He does.” Katie says and TJ tells her to scram. 
“There’s nothing wrong with wearing glasses.” Cyrus says once they’re alone, “I just had no idea you wore them.” 
“That’s because I wear contacts in public.” TJ mumbles. 
Cyrus picks up the frames from TJ’s desk and holds them close to his eyes, the blurred vision it gave Cyrus was like an instant headache, “Oh my god.” Cyrus chuckles as he puts them back down, “Can you even see right now without these?” He laughs. 
TJ folds his arms like an embarrassed child. Even though TJ knew Cyrus wasn’t making fun of him, he was still shy about it. “You got here quickly.” 
“It’s been two hours since you texted me.” Cyrus states. 
“Really?” TJ looks at the time on his phone and his missed text from Cyrus earlier pops up.
“Your mom let me up.” Cyrus smiles. 
“Sorry, I guess I got caught up with my studying.” TJ apologises. 
“Studying in summer?” Cyrus questions. 
“I see a special tutor once a week for my dyscalculia, it’s supposed to help me catch up before school starts again.” TJ is sheepish. 
Cyrus smiles encouragingly and he genuinely felt proud that TJ was working with his learning disability rather than fighting against it. 
“You can put your bag down wherever,” TJ stands from his desk chair.
Cyrus drops his overnight bag from his shoulder and places it by the bunkbed in the room. 
“I have to share a room with Cooper since Katie’s going to be a girl one day and want her privacy.” TJ rolls his eyes. 
“She’s not a girl now?” Cyrus looks confused. 
“She’s 7 and still wants to hang around her brothers all the time.” TJ laughs, “She didn’t even want to stop sharing a room with Coop but mom says she’ll change her mind soon enough.” 
“If it’s anything like Buffy and Andi, she’ll be about 10.” Cyrus says mindlessly as he looks around TJ’s room, taking in the surroundings. “That’s when their parents got weird about our friendship.” Cyrus’ gaze lands back on TJ. 
“I know it’s kinda small but we can hang in the living room tonight once the twins go to bed.” TJ smiles weakly. He was doing that thing where you talk down what you have because you’re embarrassed and Cyrus didn’t like that very much at all. 
“I like it.” Cyrus says with a smile. It was a small room with a single bunkbed pressed against one wall, a desk on the other side of the room by the door and a bookshelf opposite the closet. The little details were what caught Cyrus’ eye. The mesh of TJ’s stuff with Cooper’s. Some were immediately easier to differentiate and others not so much. Like the sports memorabilia, Cyrus assumed it belonged to TJ, along with the shelf of trophies and ribbons from basketball and other athletic accomplishments whilst a few scattered toys seemed to belong to Cooper. It was a few comic and science themed things that didn’t immediately make sense to Cyrus. 
“Teej.” Tess’s voice bellows from the kitchen and TJ motions for them to go find out what she wants. 
Once in the kitchen the two boys plant themselves on a bench stool each and Tess announces that she’s leaving. Cyrus immediately notices the scrubs she’s changed into. It makes Cyrus remember something TJ had said casually in conversation about his mother being a nurse. 
“You know the drill, if you go out the kids go with you, no further than the park and in before sun down.” Tess looks to TJ. 
“Yes mom, I know.” TJ nods. 
“And lights out by 8.” Tess gently wiggles her finger in front of her sons face, “Last night you kept them both up after 10.” 
“Which on of them ratted on me?” TJ glares. 
“Neither of them had to. They both slept in later than me and I’m the one working overnights.” Tess gives him a knowing look. “Now, I left money for pizza in the top drawer and there is a few extra dollars for one side.”
“Got it.” TJ nods and watches his mother flit about the room in a rush, “You’re running late you better hurry.”
“Keys?” Tess looks to him as she pats her non existent pockets. 
"Vegetable drawer in the fridge.” TJ says casually although Cyrus understandably registers this as odd. 
“Katie.” Tess says with a sigh as she retrieves her car keys from exactly where TJ said they’d be. 
“She likes to hide things,” TJ turns to Cyrus with an explanation, “I saw her put them in there after lunch.” 
Cyrus lets out a quiet chuckle and a few questions about that came to mind, like for starters, why? Also, why didn’t TJ take them out if he saw her put them there?
“Oh, and remember to sort out your dirty laundry,” Tess says as she slings her handbag over her shoulder, “I’ve been asking for two days now, Junior!”
“Mom.” TJ lets out an embarrassed grumble. 
“Sorry, Teej.” Tess smiles sympathetically. 
“Want to embarrass me anymore in front of my friend or are you ready to go to work now?” TJ tries to fake being angry at his mom but his efforts are fooled with a sweet smile. 
Tess challenges TJ’s remark and gives him a big smooch on the cheek. Immediately TJ wipes at where she marked him. 
“And take a shower, you smell terrible.” Tess says with a crinkled nose. 
“Mom!” TJ gives her a look, this time he wasn't smiling. 
“Okay, okay, I’m going,” Tess laughs, “Cyrus, it was lovely to meet you, sorry I’m such a hurry.” 
“That’s alright Ms- Uh- Tess,” Cyrus corrects himself with a smile, “Have a nice night at work.” 
Tess finally leaves after popping her head into the living room to say see you later to the twins. 
“She’s such a mess when she gets called in for extra shifts.” TJ shakes his head with a chuckle. He stands from his stool and goes to the fridge. 
"I like her,” Cyrus says positively, “With my accident prone ways I think having a nurse for a parent would be far more beneficial than four shrink parents,” Cyrus half jokes, “All that does is make me think I’m crazy.” 
TJ closes the fridge with a quiet chuckle. “I bet it makes you analyse other people a lot too.” 
Cyrus tosses his head from side to side, “True.. but I’m almost never right with my assumptions.” 
“Scary basketball guy.” TJ motions to himself before he retrieves two glasses from an overhead cupboard and proceeds to pour them both a juice. 
“Exactly.” Cyrus laughs softly.
“Oh and for the record,” TJ pushes one glass towards Cyrus, “ ‘Junior’, doesn’t leave this room. I hate when my mom calls me that.” 
Cyrus bites down on a smile, “It’s funny because of how tall you are.” Cyrus chuckles. “I mean I knew the ‘J’ in your name stood for Junior but you don’t look like a Junior to me. It doesn’t fit.”
“How’d you know it stood for that?” TJ questions. 
“I found it in the yearbook.” Cyrus recalls stumbling upon it when searching for Buffy’s crush. 
TJ lets out a groan. “I forgot they put my full name in there.”  
“Now ‘Teej’ on the other hand,” Cyrus takes a sip from his glass, “I like that a lot more, I’m going to start using it.” 
TJ crinkles his nose at Cyrus’ affirmation although he does not protest against it. 
“So I was looking at the list earlier and I thought of a few things we could check off it.” TJ says after skulling his entire glass of juice in one go.
“Tonight?” Cyrus questions. 
“Yeah, why not be productive with this babysitting session,” TJ laughs. “It’ll be fun.” 
“Okay, what tasks?” Cyrus asks. 
“Make a basket, watch a scary movie and stay up for 24 hours.” TJ lists. 
Cyrus curls his facial expression into pure dread. “That doesn’t sound fun.” 
“Too bad.” TJ does his signature pout and smirk combo, “You’ve been avoiding ‘make a basket’ since I added it to the list last week.”
“Yeah but wasn’t laser tag so much more fun instead?” Cyrus deflects. 
“It was pretty fun,” TJ admits but he shakes his head and returns to his point, “There is a court behind the building, I say we go now whilst it’s still light out.”
Reluctantly Cyrus agrees and TJ goes to the living room to round up his siblings. 
“Come on we’re going down to the court.” TJ instructs. 
Katie happily jumps up from her place on the sofa whilst Cooper seemed even more reluctant about the idea than Cyrus. 
“Do I have to come?” Cooper mumbles and it was evident he was uncomfortable around Cyrus.
“Last time I went downstairs and left you up here alone you set the kitchen on fire and mom grounded me for a week.” TJ folds his arms. 
“I didn’t mean to.” Cooper says quietly and admits defeat quickly. Cooper leaves to get a book to take down and TJ leans into Cyrus to make sure his brother didn’t hear him when he explained that Cooper was really shy. 
After TJ retrieves a basketball, the four make their way downstairs and out onto the small court behind TJ’s apartment building, it was late afternoon but there is still plenty of sun left for the day. Katie and Cooper sit on a bench seat by the court together whilst TJ takes the lead with this active task from the list. 
TJ playfully dribbles the ball around Cyrus and makes a basket whilst Cyrus turns his body to follow TJ and remains firm that his ability on the court was embarrassing. 
“You make it look so easy.” Cyrus folds his arms as TJ retrieves the ball, “I hate that.” 
TJ pretends to hand the ball to Cyrus but turns quickly and makes another shot instead. 
“Now you’re just showing off.” Cyrus glares. 
“I was already showing off before.” TJ shrugs with a smirk. 
“Okay we get it, you’re the basketball guy,” Cyrus waves his hands about, “Now are you going to teach me or what?” 
“Yes Sir.” TJ laughs at Cyrus’ mood swing. 
TJ uses his basketball captain ways to teach Cyrus a little technique with his stance and hold of the ball before moving on to tips for the actual throw itself. 
Cyrus fails a few times, they’re horrible attempts at first but he did manage to get a little better. Although he was getting better, TJ could tell Cyrus lacked enthusiasm about this particular task. Even though he was not enthusiastic, the boys still had their usual amount of fun with it. 
Cyrus breaks his failed attempts to show TJ how he likes to shoot basketballs, where he stands under the net and throws it up but it comes back down and smacks him in the face. 
“Underdog are you okay?” TJ winces and jogs over to his friend. 
“Yeah I’m fine,” Cyrus gently rubs his nose where the ball collided, “I don’t even throw the ball hard enough to injure myself.” 
“You make not being hurt sound like a bad thing.” 
“At least I’d know then that I was making progress.” Cyrus sighs. 
“You are making progress.” TJ assures as he slaps a hand to Cyrus’ shoulder, “You’ve got it this time, I can feel it.” TJ says as he picks up the ball and hands it to Cyrus. “Deep breath, I believe in you.” 
“Do I have to?” Cyrus pouts. 
“Last try for the day, I promise.” TJ says, “If you don’t make this one we’ll try again another day.” 
Cyrus is doubtful but takes the ball and goes to the free throw line. If failing one more time was all he had to do to stop for the day, then he might as well get it over with. 
Cyrus pauses and looks to TJ who has gone over with the twins. Katie seemed enthralled in his efforts whilst Cooper didn’t lift his gaze from his book. TJ holds Cyrus’ eye contact and nods encouragingly. 
Cyrus holds the ball out in front of himself and takes a deep breath. You got this...
“You can do it, Cyrus!” Katie cheers encouragingly and Cyrus sends her a thankful smile before turning his attention back to the hoop.
With another deep breath, Cyrus moves himself into position like TJ had showed him. Then he counts back from three in his head and throws the ball. Cyrus watches as it effortlessly falls through the hoop.
“Can we go inside no-” Cyrus stops once he processes what just happened. 
Katie is squealing with glee and TJ has a huge grin plastered on his face whilst his arms are thrown up in the air excitedly. Even Cooper wore a hint of an impressed expression on his face. 
“Did I just?” Cyrus turns to TJ. 
“You did it!” TJ rushes over to him. 
“I did it.” Cyrus laughs in disbelief. 
After a moment of celebration TJ jokingly suggests they play a little one on one.
“I wanna play!” Katie is with them and she jumps up and down. 
“You two can play, I need to quit whilst I’m ahead.” Cyrus laughs. 
“Boo!” Katie whines and TJ mimics with a cute ‘boo’ of his own. 
“Fine,” Cyrus gives in quickly, “But we’re going to need someone else to play so we’re even teams.” 
The three standing on the court turn their gazes to Cooper who is looking at them with confusion. 
“No way.” Cooper mumbles almost too quiet for them to hear from where they stand. 
“Come on, Coop, it’ll be fun.” TJ says. 
“Yeah, Coop, please?” Katie begs. 
“You can be on my team.” Cyrus smiles, “I know that’s an unconvincing argument but I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Cyrus covers his mouth on the side closest to TJ, as if he were actually telling a secret but he speaks at his usual volume, “TJ lets me win a lot.” 
“I do not!” TJ says defensively. 
“You do so,” Cyrus laughs, “You think it will make me feel better about sucking at everything.” 
“You don’t suck at everything, you just don’t even try sometimes.” TJ folds his arms. 
"You still let me win to boost my confidence.” Cyrus smiles. 
“Well I’m certainly not going easy on you with this game.” TJ states. “Winner gets to choose the side we order for dinner.” 
“Oo, high stakes!” Cyrus wriggles his brows as he turns back to Cooper, “What do you say?” 
Cooper still looks a little reluctant but agrees with a quiet sigh. Once they’re all ready to play TJ declares that the first to three wins. 
A goofy game gets underway and plenty of standard rules were broken, one of them was the way Katie just runs with the ball. At one point Cyrus noticed TJ purposely fumble his catch so Cooper could get a go with the ball. The two older boys exchange a look after this, Cyrus’ was knowing like he was right about TJ letting them win and TJ just innocently shrugs and pretends like he didnt know why Cyrus was looking at him.  
Once Katie gets the ball again, TJ picks her up and sits her on his shoulders so she can make a basket. 
“That’s cheating!” Cooper exclaims, by this point in the game he had loosened up. 
“Nu-uh,” TJ says in a childish way. “This is no rules basketball!” 
Cyrus looks like they’ve been dealt a great injustice before realising he can cleverly use this to his advantage, “If I spin around three times really fast and touch my toes that’s worth infinity points and ends the game early.” Cyrus does just as he mentioned and excitedly exclaims, “Game over we win!” Cyrus turns to Cooper excitedly with a high-five. 
“You’re no fun.” TJ laughs and Katie, still on TJ’s shoulders folds her arms in a huff. 
“No, I’m just smarter and evidently a better basketball player.” Cyrus jokes and he stretches down to touch his toes again. “Double infinity points to us.” 
TJ rolls his eyes with a smile, “Okay kids lets hit the showers,” TJ claps his hands together and points up towards their building.
TJ looks to Cyrus with a smile slowly creeping wider on his face. Cyrus coaxes his head with a sigh as he anticipated what TJ was about to say next. 
“I’ll race ya!” TJ bounces on his toes before quickly racing towards the building, Katie and Coop following his fast lead. 
“Stop making me run all the time!” Cyrus whines as he lags behind the Kippen kids. 
[Next Chapter]
End Notes: Thanks to everyone who left me comments on the last chapter! This story is being so positively received and it’s sooo lovely for me! Thank you so much!
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