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gayerthanevertbh · 1 year ago

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widow behind closed doors pt. 1 | n.r

summary: You moved into a Craig's list apartment and met a woman through an online chat. Despite issues with your parents, you felt seen by the woman, the fleeting excitement rushing through your heart as she continues to develop a relationship with you online. However, the owner of the building, Steve Rogers, warns you to avoid the upper floor. You followed his orders, but wonder who lives behind closed doors and most of all, who is the woman behind the phone?

warnings: online dating, slight dark!natasha romanoff, age difference (natasha is 40 while reader is 20,) g!p natasha, manipulative behavior, and smut - 18+ minors dni

notes: not sure if i want to make this a story but this is just in case if i do. this is just the start of the series, this will also be posted on ao3 so let's see how it goes! let me know if you want me to continue it. don't worry, training season chapter two will be posted soon :)

Last month, as you turned nineteen, your mother kicked you out. Naturally, you lived at a friend's house for a short while until you had enough money to rent a new apartment close to your university. The fact is, out of all the websites, Craig's List was the one you used when looking for this apartment complex.

Fairly speaking, the apartment building looked normal—at least from your own vantage point—and had the required utility. Mail from the outside, a laundry facility, and a smoking section. Though you occasionally light one, you do not smoke. Conversely, your friend Julie smoked as if her lungs were not burning. She never listened to your advice about not smoking three times a day.

With a big huff from your lungs, you toppled the last box outside of your chamber. Steve and Wanda were two people who assisted you in getting settled. Grading them for helping you arrange things in your new room, you turned around with a friendly smile.

“Thank you again, Mr. Rogers,” you said as you shook his hand. “This room is pretty big.”

“No one really rents here,” the man replied with a small smile on his face. “It’s the least I can do. You know, especially that you’re a student.”

You chuckled, turning your head away. “Please, I don’t even want to hear about that.”

“How old are you?” Wanda asked with a curious look on her face.

“I just turned 20 last month,” you said with a pained groan. It is not so ridiculous given your connection with your mother; you did not forget the time she kicked you out of the house. “How about you?”

She smiles. “We’re the same age! If you have time, maybe you could stop by my room. It’s just on the left corner of the building.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

You both fell into silence until Steve held his hands together, staring at Wanda and then back at you. “Well, you should settle in. If you need anything, I’m just downstairs. You know the number of my apartment, you can just knock at anytime.”

“Steve, should we tell her about N—”

“We also want to inform you not to go to the upper floor,” Steve interrupts Wanda and says Your eyebrows wrinkled as you looked at the girl and saw her covering her face on her shoulder. “We have a friend who can be very... mean. She doesn’t like anyone going to her floor and she’s technically also the owner of this building.”

“Really? Oh,” you huffed, wondering who they were talking about. “Don’t worry, I will not go up there.”

Steve put his hand on your biceps and patted. “Thanks, kiddo. Anyway, just knock on our doors if you need any help.”

You closed the door and sighed longingly as soon as they left your room. Today was going to be a long day of you sorting every box you had in this room; you would most likely desire take-out after all this chaos. You considered the woman living on the top floor as you were making your bed. What did she look like? When they claimed the woman was peculiar, what did they mean? So many thoughts crossed your head, trying to figure out who the woman was they were talking about. You shrugged, minded your own business, and soon nodded off.

———

Late at night, you placed an order for a pizza, tried to watch a movie on your laptop, and visited a website none of your friends knew you were first visiting. Almost as if it were Omegle, the service allowed users to communicate with total strangers—and you could add them as friends via chat. Alone, you were eating a slice of pizza and texting a few people from the website. Carl, a male, asked whether he might have coffee with you tomorrow afternoon, but you gently turned him down since you just moved in. When, really, you have no interest in men. You consider them not as a lover but rather as a need.

Though it sounds horrible, that is reality. Men are often cruel, while women can communicate with you through their elegant, luxurious words. You enjoyed the sensation when a woman complements you for not just your appearance but also for the way you talk from your mind. It was not surprising that they adored you for your beauty; sometimes it can feel fantastic, but you wanted to be really understood—not only by appearance. And so, after some time, you were ready to shut your laptop until you noticed an email sign on top left.

Someone has left you a message.

You boldly opened the message and found a woman called Natalia messaged. As you went over her message, you grinned.

Natalia: Hey there! Are you new here?

You: no not really lol xD i’ve been using this website since a year ago.

Natalia: Strange :P I never saw you on my suggestions. Do you have an age limit to 40 plus?

You: yeah! i wanted to try something new

Natalia: Hm. Maybe that’s why I’ve never seen you here. Your name is Y/n? Or is that just a nickname? Haha.

You: nope, that’s definitely my name! And is your name not a nickname?

Natalia: Definitely not a nickname :))

As you spoke with this woman you could feel your heart beating and your body heating up like it was an oven. Since many people do this, you are simply hoping the conversation stays normal. Otherwise, things could go strange. They only pursue nudes, and you're honestly bored of that. You bit on your lower lip as you considered your response, but she slammed it right into you.

Natalia: How old are you? Are you really 20? ;((

You: yeah... heh. and are you really 40?

Natalia: Yup. It's weird, isn’t it?

You: are u looking for a sugar baby lol

You let out a quiet laugh as you waited for her response.

Natalia: HAH! No, I’m not. I just really want to talk to someone. Is that bad these days?

You: not really. i’m just a little traumatized by this website. everyone keeps asking me to send nudes.

Natalia: I understand; sometimes young women ask me to send some too. So I understand how you feel :)

By the way, are you currently studying?

You: yessss! i study at NYU. :DD

Natalia: Really?! That’s great! You know, when I was in my 20s, I tried to study there, but I lost all interest. It’s good that you still want to study :)))

Where do you live?

Given that you only connected with this woman online, it's best that you remain mum about your exact location; unfortunately, there are many predators in the world today. Even though it pains you deeply to lie to this woman, you couldn't help but chew on your lower lip as you considered telling a lie. Before you could mention that you lived at this new apartment, a thud on the floor interrupted you. With a quick turn of your head, you strode over to the door and opened it.

From over her shoulder, a woman shot you a lifeless stare, and you felt inadequate. You stepped outside and asked, “A-Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Grumbling under her breath, the woman made her way to the staircase. She picked up the paper bag and proclaimed, “Who are you supposed to be?”

You gulped down your saliva and muttered, “I’m new here.”

Turning her head away from you, the mysterious woman—who seemed like the most stunning woman you'd ever seen—muttered something in Russian that you couldn't quite decipher. Her boots thudded loudly as she walked upstairs, shaking her head dismissively. The door slams shut, and your body twitches in response.

The woman was, in fact, very intimidating.

And strange.

And mean.

As you shut the door, you sigh and try to comprehend that the woman might have been going through a difficult time. Steve was spot-on from the start: the second floor is not a good place to be. Reason being, you might get booted out if you indulged your curiosity. You sat back down on the bed and swiftly typed back to Natalia, who was waiting for your response; the once-bustling city of New York was now peaceful. You shut the curtains. Somehow, you wish she had been waiting for you.

You: sorry... some mean neighbor was at my door. Lollll

Natalia: It’s okay :)) It’s late there, darling. Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?

She referred to you as "darling" and tossed your head back onto the pillow. You struggle to suppress your scream. As you let out a heavy sigh while you mentally resorted to thoughts of Natalia, completely disregarding the brief encounter you had with the unfamiliar woman just moments before. Having an attraction to older women was undeniable; it was just your personality. With a hint of excitement building inside of you, you snatched your laptop from the foot of the bed and began typing away, taking matters into your own hands.

God, you were such a fool.

You: yeah but i have to finish my pizza before i go to bed!

how about you?

Natalia: Can’t. I have work ;((

Talk to me tomorrow, okay? I like this conversation that we are having. ;))

Even though you were unhappy that she had to leave, you couldn't help but notice that it was getting close to two in the morning. You wanted to stay up all night, so you sigh and type on your keyboard.

You: okay! :D gnnn x

Natalia: Goodnight, darling.

Your mind was at peace with Natalia while you slept, which hasn't happened in a long time. What does she look like when you meet her face to face? Was she attractive? Even though you hadn't laid eyes on her face, you were certain that she was. Despite this, you were hoping to ask about sneak peeks so that you could avoid sleepless nights in the future. However, you recalled that you had met an unknown woman on the internet—a self-assured person. You definitely wouldn't cross paths with her in person.

Right?

yes ik a repost eugh

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you

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zombieluver · 2 years ago

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Helping hand

Steve Raglan/William Afton x reader

about: you're new to town, and looking for a job, you end up with help from a man named Steve Raglan, who ends up being more charming than you thought.

tw: nothing for this chapter

authors note: i plan on making about 9 parts for this, i hope people enjoy this! part 2 should be up soon. also there's no use of y/n in this

You find yourself before a very disinterested older man.

Steve Raglan was the name written on the name placard on his desk.

He hummed softly, sifting through papers. "So, why here?"

"What do you mean?" You ask.

He lays the papers down neat on his desk, and claspes his hands together, resting his chin atop them. "Why this town? Why Minnesota?" He asks, looking curious.

"Oh, um. My mother passed when we lived out of state, so I moved here to get away from the area. Fresh start. I don't know anything about Minnesota, and figured somewhere close but not too close to the cities would be nice."

He hums again, seemingly satisfied. "Well, lucky for you, I know just the job. Given your track record of jobs and a very open and pleasant attitude, there's a store close to here that needs a front secretary."

"Oh! Perfect." You smile.

He matches your smile, and you notice his eyes crinkle at the corners, it making his duller eyes shine a little.

"Perfect? Yeah, that's how I'd describe this, too. Want coffee?"

"What kind?"

He stands and walks behind you, "Well, I got black coffee, but I have sugar and cream."

You pause, then decide what the hell, "Sure, I'll have a cup."

"Fantastic." Steve says.

A minute later, you have a warm cup in your hands, "So, what do I need to do to apply for the job?"

Steve shuffles through some papers, "Well, I'll fill out the paperwork, and you tell me your answers, alright? Then we can send you on your way."

You nod, taking a sip of coffee.

Steve asks you typical questions for an application, and you answer each with ease. Only pausing to struggle to remember phone numbers for reference.

He asks about an emergency contact, and you frown, "Why would I need that for an application?"

"Some places want one. In case anything happens during an interview, they're able to get a hold of someone."

You lean back, sighing and nervously push your hair back, "Well, I don't have anyone. Only people I know are states away."

Steve pauses, then jots something down on the paper, "For now, we can list myself as your emergency contact."

"Do you do this for everyone?"

"Not usually, normally I'd put down the secretary, but I can make an exception for someone like you."

"Someone like me?"

"Y'know, new to town and a very positively polite person. I can't not want to help out if I'm able."

You blush a little and try to cover it with your coffee.

All too soon, your application is finished, and your coffee has been long gone.

Steve smiles and slips the papers into a folder with your name on it. "Well, it was very pleasant to chat with you today."

"Likewise." You say, smiling back.

"Is there a number I'm able to reach you at? In case this place has any questions?"

You nod, jot down the number for your tiny brick of a mobile, and pass the sticky note to him. "Here, it's my personal cellphone."

Steve's smile widens, and you wonder if he was totally honest about his intentions with wanting your number.

"It was pleasant to meet you.." He pauses before going to look at your file.

You laugh softly and repeat your name to him as you stand up.

He repeats your name softly to himself, almost as if he were committing it to memory, then smiles softly, "Right, well have a good day, I'll contact you in the future with any updates."

You smile back, "Thank you, Mr. Raglan."

"Steve," He corrects, "Just call me Steve."

"Alright then, Steve. I'll look forward to your call."

He waves a little, and you exit his office, door clicking softly behind him. You stand there for a moment, feeling slightly ridiculous by how charming he was.

Then, you walk away, realizing there's still other people here waiting to meet with him, and you still need to get home.

#ichor flows #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie #five nights at freddys movie #william afton #steve raglan #william afton x reader #steve raglan x reader #fnaf #fnaf x reader #x reader

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cutedisneygirl · 8 months ago

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Love Online Chapter 29

Warnings: none

Over the next few days Merida anxiously waits to hear from the judge. The security team that Chris's manager set up follows her, but they do not make it obvious they are following her. On Thursday morning Merida has just finished feeding her kids when she hears her phone. She normally would have it on vibrate and put up but knowing she could get a call she kept it out with Catherine's permission. She sees the caller Id and sees it's an LA number.

"Miranda, can you excuse me a minute? I need to take this."

"Sure."

Merida steps outside the door onto the playground.

"Hello."

"Is this Merida Owens?"

"It is."

"This is the Judge. I viewed your case. I am going to accept it, however, remember I don't normally accept without a police report, but after listening to you and all your witnesses I will grant it. Here is how it works Bradly is not allowed within 1500 yards of you. If he is seen or comes closer than that you contact the police immediately!"

"Thanks so much. I will."

"Ms. Owens, I will tell you between you and me, also what saved you is because of who you are engaged to. That is what helped you a lot. But please do not tell anyone I told you that."

"Your secret is safe with me. Thanks so much."

"You're welcome. I'm sorry you are having to go through this. If you ever need anything let us know, okay?"

"Thanks."

Merida hangs up and quickly texts Chris.

Merida-I got it! I got the restraining order! She just called me! 😁

Just as Merida was heading back inside, she gets a text

Chris-That's great babe! I knew you would! Call me when you're home and we can talk about it. Love you 😘

Merida-Will do. Love you too 😘

Merida puts her phone away and goes back to work. That evening when she gets off work after she arrives home and lets Dixie out, she texts Chris to let him know she's home, it is not long till he facetimes her. She tells him what the judge told her except for him being part of the reason she got it. They talk for an hour before they say goodnight. The rest of the week goes by. Chris and Merida don't see each other for several weeks. Chris has lots of meetings he has to go to, but they continue to facetime every night. Merida does get a call from the dress shop in LA telling her dress is ready and she can come back to try it on. She works it out to fly out in late May. She is staying with Scott. Chris has to stay in Boston. Scott takes her to the dress shop on Saturday and she tries on the dress and after making sure it fits, she is allowed to take it home. As her and Scott leave the shop he asks

"Is there anything else you need? We didn't get to shop anymore that day."

"Well, I do need to find some shoes and my garter, but the one I want I doubt I will find here. I think I have order it."

"What do you want?"

Merida pulls out her phone and pulls her Pinterest page and shows him.

"Oh wow, that's cool. Yeah, I don't think you will find that in a store, but if you want, I can try and find it online for you."

"Sure thanks, that would be great."

"Welcome, but you said shoes. I know just the place come on."

Scott takes her to the shoe store and after trying on several pairs she finally finds the pair she likes. She even gets some flats to wear later after the wedding.

"Scott."

"Yeah?"

"I've been wondering what I should I get Chris for a wedding gift."

"Hmm, a watch?"

"Can you help me find one?"

"Sure, come on I know a great place."

It doesn't take them long to get to the jewelry store. They look around for a while. Then a young woman approaches them.

"Can I help find anything?"

"Yes, I am looking for a wedding gift."

"Oh, okay. Would this be for a groom?" She smiles.

"Yes, it is."

"Are you the bride?"

"I am."

"Well congratulations. What are you thinking about?"

"I was thinking a watch."

"Perfect. Follow me."

They follow her to some watches. She starts pulling some out.

"This one."

"That one is $316.00."

"Wow, that's a lot. Do you have anything cheaper?"

"Not by much I have some for $215.00." She pulls them out.

"No, they aren't him. I really like this one but..."

' "Mer, I could..."

"No! Absolutely not! You already paid for my dress, I won't ask you to..."

"Mam, could we have a minute?"

"Of course, take all the time you need."

"Thanks."

She walks away. Scott turns to Merida.

"He is going to kill me for this."

"What? Who is? What are you talking about?"

"Chris paid for your dress. That wasn't me."

"What!"

"He insisted. I knew you would protest, and he said he knew you would but not to let you pay for it that he wanted to do it."

"I can't believe he did that!"

"Mer don't be mad at him. He loves you and he only wanted to help."

Merida sighs.

"I know. It's just that..."

"I know. But look, I would love to help you with this. You could even pay me back if you want. I mean of course you don't have to; I don't mind helping but..."

"Okay, I can pay you back. I can pay part of it and then as soon as I get the money, I will pay you back for the rest."

"Sure, but no rush. Pay me when you can."

"Okay and Scott?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell Chris about this."

"I won't."

The lady comes back. "Did we decide?"

"We will take the watch."

"Okay good. Would you like to get it engraved?"

"How much is that?"

"No charge."

"Really?"

"It's my wedding gift to you." She smiles.

"Well thanks."

"What would you like it to say?"

Merida pulls out her phone and pulls up Pinterest. She remembers seeing a picture that she loved, and thought was nice. She finds it then shows the lady.

"Sure, we can do that. It will take a few hours can you come back?"

"Sure, we can come back," Scott says.

"Okay. See you in a few hours"

Scott and Merida leave the store and go to get some lunch. Scott takes her to a small café not too far away. They enjoy a nice lunch and talk. Scott tells her some stories about Chris when he was little. Merida laughs. About a few hours later they head back to the jewelry store.

"Your watch is ready. Would you like to see it?"

"Yes please."

She shows them the watch.

"Wow, thanks I love it!"

"You're welcome. Would you like me to wrap it for you?"

"Yes, thanks."

"I will meet you at the register.

Scott and Merida head to register. The lady wraps the watch in a nice box and heads to the register.

"Your total will be with tax $321.00."

"Wow, that's a lot more than I thought it would be. Umm I can do $100."

"Sure, I can pay the rest."

After they pay for it, they head out.

"Thanks Scott."

"You're welcome. Is there anywhere else you need to go?"

"Umm I don't think so."

"Alright we will head home then."

After they arrive back at Scott's house Merida puts her stuff away and has just sat on the couch when her phone goes off. She sees Chris is Facetiming her. She smiles and answers.

"Hey!"

"Hey there is my girl! I've missed you."

"I've missed you too."

"How did shopping go today?"

"It went well. I got my dress, and I got some shoes too."

"Nice. Can I see?"

"The dress? No, you have to wait till the wedding day for that."

"Aww come on just a little peek?"

"Nope!"

"Okay fine. How about the shoes?"

"They are nothing special just white shoes with heals and then some flats to wear after the wedding."

"Okay babe. So, everything went, okay? No problems?"

"Nope everything went fine."

"Good."

Chris got quiet for a few minutes.

"Chris?"

"Yeah."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah why?"

"You got quiet on me."

"Sorry, I just got a lot on my mind right now. I will be flying out to France soon."

"Oh right, you're filming that new movie."

"Yeah."

"Okay. But we will still talk right?"

"Of course. I'll still call you."

"Call me? You mean you won't facetime me?"

"Uh...well I..."

"Chris?"

"Babe, I got to go. I'm getting a call. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Alright? Love you." He blows her a kiss and ends the call.

Merida is in tears when Scott walks in the room.

"Mer, what's wrong?"

"I don't know. But Chris was acting weird."

"What do you mean? What happened?"

"He told me he would be going to France soon and when I asked him if we would still talk, he said he would call me. I asked if we would not till facetime, he started acting weird. He hesitated and then he abruptly tells me he has to go and doesn't even let me say I love him back or goodnight he just hangs up." Merida cries.

"I'm sure he's just got a lot on his mind. You will still talk to him don't worry."

"I know but why is he acting like I won't be able to see him? It's like he is hiding something from me."

"I don't know. But don't let it worry you alright?"

"I'll try not. I am going to head to bed. I'm tried."

"Okay sure. I'll see you in the morning."

Merida heads to her room and gets ready for bed and then climbs under the covers but she is unable to sleep. She keeps thinking about Chris. She wonders what he could be hiding from her. She knows he isn't cheating on her. She trusts him. What is going on? The next morning Merida wakes up and grabs her phone from the bedside table. She sees she has a text from Chris.

Chris-Morning beautiful! I'm sorry about last night. I love you! I will talk to you later. 😘🥰❤️

Merida smiles and messages back

Merida-Good morning, Chris. It's okay. I love you too. I can't wait to talk to you.

Merida climbs out of bed and heads to the bathroom. While she's in the shower her phone goes off. After her shower she checks her phone. She smiles when she sees a text from Chris.

Chris-😘🥰❤️I can't wait to see your beautiful smile. I need to walk Dodger and then I can call you

Merida-Okay sounds good. I look forward to seeing you. I miss you. 😘

Merida gets dressed then heads into the kitchen. She sets her phone on the island.

"Morning Mer. How did you sleep?"

"Morning. I slept okay."

"You seem in a better mood this morning."

"Yes. Chris texted me and he is calling me in a few minutes."

"Oh, well good. I knew everything would be okay."

"Yeah."

"Are you hungry? I can make you some breakfast."

"That's okay. I can just have some toast and coffee."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep."

"Alright toast and coffee coming up."

Scott puts two pieces of toast and in the toaster oven and then put a mug under the Keurig. A few minutes later, "Here you go. Toast and coffee."

"Thanks."

By the time Merida has finished her toast, she is finishing her coffee when her phone rings. She sees the caller Id and smiles.

"Hey!"

"Hey beautiful! It's so good to see you. How are you?"

"I'm okay."

"Just, okay?"

"Well, I'm better now I am talking to you."

"Aww. Well, hey I wanted to apologize for last night. I'm sorry I hung up so fast. I was getting another call and I had to take it."

"It's okay. I understand."

"You aren't upset?"

"No, I understand."

"Okay, because it looked like you were. I saw it on your face."

"That wasn't why I was upset."

"Then why?"

"Because of how you answered me when I asked about FaceTime Ing you while you were in London."

"Oh yeah, right. That."

"Yes. Chris, what is going on? Are you hiding something from me?"

"Mer babe, I...I have to keep a low profile and..."

"Chris that makes no sense. I'm your fiancé!"

"Babe, hey calm down. That's not what I meant. It's just that..."

"What?"

"I can't facetime while I am there."

"Why?"

Chris sighs

"Chris, what is it?"

"I can't tell you right now, but I promise I will explain soon alright?"

"Chris, what are you hiding from me?"

"I will tell you soon alright? I need to go. I love you babe. I will talk to you tonight alright?"

"Okay, I love you too."

They hung up. Merida looks up and sees Scott looking at her.

"Your right he is acting weird."

"I know. He's hiding something."

"Yeah, definitely but he said he would tell you soon."

"Yeah."

Merida heads back home later that day. She and Chris talk that night, but Chris doesn't explain what was going on. Chris is flying to London in the coming weeks. She hates that he will be there on his birthday. If she didn't have to work, she would surprise him and go to him, but she does. She couldn't miss any more work.

When Chris arrives in London, he messages Merida and tells her he will call her later. After work Merida arrives home and lets Dixie out. She is just sitting down at the island when her phone rings. She looks down and sees Chris is calling her.

"Hi."

"Hey babe. Are you okay?"

"Tired."

"Understand. Rough day?"

"A little. How are you?"

"Tired. This time difference is rough."

"Yeah. So, I can't see you?"

"Babe, I can't sorry."

"Why? What are you hiding from me?"

"Babe, I'm not really hiding anything from you, I just...okay listen. In this new movie, I can't show off my new look yet. I have to keep it a secret for a while."

"Even from me? Your fiancé?"

"Babe, I hate this just as much as you do, trust me. But I just can't."

"You don't trust me? You think I will tell people?"

"Babe, come on. You know that's not true. Of course, I trust you. I just can't okay. I made a promise not to show anyone or post any photos yet and I have to keep that promise. Even from you. I hate it, I do. Trust me. I want to see you so badly right now. I want nothing more than to see your beautiful face, your smile."

"Chris."

"I love you babe, so much. It's only for a month alright?"

"A month! I have to go a whole month without seeing you?"

"We will still talk I promise, but yes but it will go by fast I promise."

"This is going to be a rough month." She frowns, but Chris of course doesn't see it.

"I know babe, but we will still talk every night I promise! I have to go. I will call you later. Sweet dreams. Love you."

"Goodnight Chris, love you too."

They hang up. Merida cleans up and gets ready for bed. She climbs in bed. Dixie is laying on the other side beside her.

"Dix, I miss him. I miss him so much. I hate I can't see him."

Just then her phone rings. She sees it's a call from Tiffany.

"Hey girl."

"Hey! How are you?"

"I'm okay. I miss Chris. He's in London."

"I know. Did he tell you why he can't facetime you?"

"Yes. He said its because of a new look for the movie that he can't reveal to anyone yet."

"Not even to you?" she asks shocked.

"Yeah. He said he hated it. He said he wanted to see me so badly but he promised he wouldn't show it off to anyone."

"Wow. Well maybe a photo will get leaked and we will see him."

"No I am staying off social media right now."

"Really why?"

"Well one because of Bradly and two I am going to respect Chris. He said its needs to stay secret and I'm not going to try and not see a pic of him when I am not supposed to."

"Wow girl!"

"What?"

"You really love him."

"I do very much."

"Alright, well I'll talk to you later. Love ya night."

"Love you too night."

A month later, it was a Saturday and Merida has just gotten out of the shower and was getting dressed when she heard a knock on the door. Dixie starts barking.

"Dixie, who could that be? I'm not expecting anyone."

Merida walks to the door and opens it. Dixie runs up to the door.

"Can I help you?"

"Babe, you don't recognize me?"

"Chris?"

"Yep."

"Oh my gosh!"

Merida runs to him and throws her arms around him.

"I didn't know you were coming." She says pulling back a little

"I know I wanted to surprise you. I'm a little shocked you didn't recognize me." he says walking in with his arm around her.

"You look so different with the mustache. So this is the look you had to keep secret?"

"Yes. I'm surprised you haven't seen by now. Some photos got leaked."

"I haven't been on social media. I am staying off."

"Oh? Why what happened?"

"Nothing happened. I just decided to because of Bradly and then because I respected you since you told me it was secret I didn't want to see you till you could let me see you."

"Oh babe!" Chris says hugging her. "I love you! I love you so much. God I've missed you." He gently pulls her away a little and leans forward and kisses her.

Merida laughs pulling away.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because your mustashe tickles."

"Oh it does?"

"Yes."

"Hmm," Chris then kisses her again then gently nudges her ear and plants kisses on her neck. Merida laughs.

"Chris, stop!" she laughs.

"God I've missed that laugh."

"Are you going to shave?"

"You really don't like it?"

"No, it makes you look weird."

Chris laughs. "Alright fine. I'll shave it."

Chris starts to leave the room.

"Chris?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you going now?"

"I'm going to get cleaned up. It has been a rough day. I didn't take time to take a shower. I just left my hotel and headed to airport."

"Wait a minute. Are you saying you came here from London?"

"Yep."

"Oh Chris." Merida says walking towards him. "I bet your tired."

"A little yes. I'll be back in a few minutes." Chris kisses her then leaves the room.

Merida pulls out her phone. She has a text from Tiffany.

Tiffany-OMG girl! Chris has a mustache!

Merida smiles and texts back.

Merida-☺️I know. I just saw.

Tiffany-Oh you decided to look 😉☺️

Merida-No, he's here 😁☺️

Tiffany-What! Seriously? Did you know he was coming?

Merida-No, he surprised me. He's taking a shower now and is going to shave.

Tiffany-Oh he's not keeping it?

Merida-No, I don't like it and he said he would shave it.

Tiffany-Aww, well have fun talk to you later. We need to get together soon. Girls night! Maybe a bachelorette or lingerie party?

Merida-please no lingerie party maybe bachelorette party, but noting too big

Tiffany-Aww come on, it would be fun. You need some sexy lingerie for the honeymoon.

Merida was starting to message her back when she felt arms wrap around her.

"Babe, who you texting?"

"Chris!" Merida exclaims almost dropping her phone. "You scared me."

"Sorry."

Merida turns and looks at him and smiles.

"Better?"

"Much. That is the Chris I know and love."

"What you didn't love the other me?"

"Of course, but..."

"I kidding babe." He says kissing her. "So who were you texting?"

"Tiffany. She wants to throw me a bachelorette and lingerie party."

"Oh is that so?" He says raising an eye brow.

Merida smacks his arm. "Chris!"

Chris laughs and wraps his arms around her. "I've missed you so much. After not seeing you for almost two months."

"I know. It seems like forever. I've missed you too. I've been watching a lot of your movies just so I could see you."

Chris laughs. "Is that so?"

"Yes."

"Aww, well I'm here now babe." He leans forward and kisses her. He continues to kiss her getting more passionate. He starts leading her to the couch. He only pulls away sightly to sit down on the couch but then kisses her again.

"Chris?"

"Yes babe?"

"I've missed kissing you, but..."

Chris pulls away from her and looks at her. "But what? What's wrong?"

"I can't. We shouldn't. We might get carried away."

"Babe, I wouldn't. You know that. I've promised you that I wouldn't let it go that far."

"I know, but I still think..."

"And babe, we have made out before."

"I know, but I'm afraid I wouldn't want to you stop."

Then Merida's phone goes off.

She gets up from the couch and walks into the kitchen and picks it up and carries it back to the couch.

"Who is it?"

"It's a text from Tiffany."

Tiffany-Two weekend from now! We are having that girls day and the party!

Merida just rolls her eyes. She then opens up Instagram and starts scrolling through. She then sees a post.

Chrisevans-It's like watching the leaves in autumn, but condensed into one painful afternoon.

"OMG!"

"What babe? What's wrong?"

Merida looks over at Chris and grabs his arm and pulls it up and looks at it.

"What is it?"

"You got hurt!"

"Yeah that was over a month ago. You didn't see that?"

"No. I haven't been on much."

"I had noticed you hadn't liked or commented on anything lately."

"Looks like it hurt."

"It did. I still have a little bit of a bruise but its not bad."

"Hey I've been thinking."

"About?"

"Another tatoo."

"Oh really?" He asks raising an eye brow

"Yeah. I found one I thought would be cute."

"Show me."

Merida pulls up the pic on her phone.

Chris laughs.

"What why are you laughing."

"Well, because there is something you don't know yet."

"What?"

"They are making a Buzz lightyear movie. It's about Buzz the space guy not the toy."

"What! Are you serious?"

"Yes and.."'

"There's more?"

Chris nods. "Guess who the voice of Buzz is?"

"Your kidding! Are you serious?"

"Yes. I start in a few weeks."

"Chris that's great! We definitely need to get this then!"

"Sure."

"Let's go!"

"Now?"

"Yeah why not?"

"Wow, never thought I would see you so excited to get another tatoo. When we got your first one you were so scared."

"I know, but I really want this one."

Chris smiles. "Alright then lets go."

After getting their tattoos they grabbed some dinner and then headed back home. That night Merida was curled up next to Chris with her head on his chest. She went to sleep smiling. She was so happy to be back in Chris's Arms. She has missed him so much.

Taglist:

@cevansbaby-dove

@sarahrogersevans

@nescavaneck

@willowsages-blog

@tess-love

@bookishtheaterlover7

@kmc1989

@frogeezz-blog-blog

@angelbabyyy99

@lizette50

@eva-knits12

@krissy25

@nicoline1998enilocin

Hope I didn’t forget anyone in my taglist

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qprsmackdown · 2 years ago

Note

what submissions have the most convincing propaganda: rather for being silly or being serious

hi anon. mod zazie here. i read through every single one of the submissions to answer this because i am insane. and the results are as follows ^-^

techno & phil fans are INSANE over "for you phil, the world!!" as they should be!! i, too, read bunfloras' phil & techno fics. but even if i didnt already know who emeraldduo was, you all have VERY GOOD propaganda. Immortal lifelong best friends... <3

dsmp fans i love you im holding out my hand to you in a gesture of friendship. hello. both mods are also mcyt fans and dsmp fans. we know abt characters vs ccs. we also despise cc!dream. you are safe here. im sorry that previous polls have traumatized you :((

c!tubbo/c!ranboo fans also fucking turned out you have VERY convincing propaganda

ive never read the locked tomb, know nothing of the characters, but to the submitters who sent in Camilla Hect and Palamedes Sextus youve convinced me. VERY good job. where can i find your media i need to learn more. no like fr

jrwi fans are you okay. good lord /pos. also youll be pleased to know WE HAVE NOT ONE BUT TWO SUBMISSIONS OF THE GREATER MANA POLYCULE

to the etho/skizz fan who submitted an essay. hi. i think youre so right for putting them in a httyd au. very convincing propaganda. also are you okay.

hi silmarillion fans. do you need hot cocoa.

jrwi fans are literally so not normal about their guys. sorry to call you out but oh my god not a single one of you is normal /pos. its great.

not a fnaf fan but "Theyre also both canonically queer, if that helps. That has nothing to do with the lobotomies or the dying and being revived as a soulless walking corpse, though." is the sentence of all time. i hope whoever wrote that is doing well.

good evening to the homestuck fan who wrote jake & dirk propaganda so convincing that for a moment i wanted to go check out their media only to remember its Homestuck and ONLY to the homestuck fan who wrote jake & dirk propaganda so convincing that for a moment i wanted to go check out their media only to remember its Homestuck.

we've been over the jesus christ/mary magdalene submission but did you know apparently there's actual evidence to back it up? lots of it in fact? i did not expect to read that tonight (for future reference slash in case you're curious i am an atheist & cycad is christian)

the little women fan has some SERIOUS propaganda. my respect o7

hello to the autistic sp (south park) fan who wrote a genuine essay on kenny mccormick and eric cartman. wish you well (and like, we got a voltron submission as well. i dont know either of those shows/fandoms at all besides vague knowledge that they're not great but eh we're here to have fun. who cares (this is in response to you mentioning you didnt know if sp was allowed (i dont know actually youd have to ask cycad but im like 95% sure its fine (can you tell i have adhd))))

GIGOLAS FAN SPOTTED. they didnt write a lot of propaganda but HELL YEAH WE GOT SOME LOTR FANS HERE. theyre so qpr to me you dont even KNOW

i didnt even think about link/zelda being a qpr before this but you have convinced me. youre so right. they Are

besties who drink poison together STAY together!!! (merlin and arthur). fuck yeah baby!!! i have never seen merlin bbc

oh moirails are a homestuck thing i saw those in our asks and was unsure what they were

CANON QPR IN FABLE SMP? oh i need to check that out. fable smp fans ik this is a long shot but if anyone wants to give me reccomendations for where to start watching.

hiya qsmp fans. no need to worry you have turned out in both numbers AND propaganda. wowzers.

we have One submission for q!quackbur but now im wondering why no one has submitted c!quackbur. theyre literally homoeretic business rivals whose relationship could be viewed as platonic or romantic. smh

Roman and Youngblood from Roleslaying with Roman have very dedicated fans.

divorce quartet the divorced qp polycule ever but also im very biased. (both scott/cleo and scott/martyn were submitted multiple times)

we have some very fun ocs & real life qp relationships and im so here for it.

oh hey lifesteal smp i know those guys. wow damn theyre kinda fucked up arent they.

POLYARCHIVES SUPREMACY <3 BASEDBASEDBASED

POLYMECHS SUPREMACY ALSO SO BASED

Hi. Person who submitted both jesus/mary magdalene and now hamlet/ophelia. I love you. You are here to cause CHAOS and i for one applaud you for it. Can we kiss /j

#ask #not competition #mod zazie #I AM REVEALING ALL MY BIASES HERE AND I AM NOT AFRAID TO SAY IT HELL YEAH THOSE ARE MY BLORBOS

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rise-my-angel · 10 months ago

Note

So I have mpre headcanons about Jon and Readers children. Specofically Rickon because I didn't give him enough at first. But like...Rickon is feral. He inherited his mother habit of climbing as a kid and now you catch him crawling around the place on things kids shouldn't even be able to climb. People wonder if he's part mountain goat.

When he's old enough, he of course knows the sad story of how Uncle Bran wound up in a wheelchair, but fortunately he never sought to climb THAT high. Because his favourite things to climb are trees...and people.

From the moment Rickon's able to walk whenever they had guests, Jon and Reader had to give the warning "Rickon no climbing" because he would just climb a person unprompted. He does eventually get a grasp of who not to climb though. (I write this next part with the assumption everything turns out hunky dori and nobody else dies <<<is delusional) Rickon's favourite people to climb are Jon, Theon and Thormund.

Jon (and very similarly, Ghost) is just very much accepting of the fact he has a lil pup crawling up his back like monkey. Like "yeah this happens. I have a child hanging off my shoulder right now, what of it? Resume discussing our latest import of grain"

Rickon learned pretty soon that bullying Uncle Theon was free real estate, so yeah he was gonna be a menace to him specifically. In addition, Theon is often the victim of many of his pranks.

Meanwhile Thormund's like "so the baby crow wants to wrestle? no problem". Their form of wrestling being Rickon clinging to Thormund and seeing how long he can go without being knocked off or caught. When Thormund does catch him he declares victory by playing catch with Rickon as if he were a ball. In truth this is also a win in Rickon's book, because it's fun going in the air with the knowledge he would easily be caught. Yes this does distress many other guardians who witness it, but even if Rickon landed face first in the dirt he would just beg Thormund to do it again.

Basically little Rickon is a menace and all of Winterfell either fears him or fears for him, because who knows how many cuts and bruises Maester Wolken has to tend to on a daily basis.

Little Rickon is an absoute menace and I adore every bit of it.

He is one of those kids who from the moment he could crawl, he would zoom off. Crawling as fast as he could until he could walk, then would walk as fast as he could but would fall over cus he was going too fast on his tiny baby legs. Then he learned to run and it was not uncommon to see him sprinting for no reason. Just a constant case of the zoomies. Then he learned to climb and it was all over.

He first tries to climb on anyone, but realized not everyone likes it and had to have a talk with his father about respecting personal space, agreeing to have a set number of people who he could act like that with. Which Jon was perfectly fine with being number one on that list.

Most of the main Northern lords are used to it. But if someone from the south comes to visit, they just are speaking to the King in the North when suddenly he's being climbed by a tiny child and Jon is not phased in the slightest. Even sometimes moves to make it easier for little Rickon to climb higher up. Normally ending on sitting on his shoulders for a while.

The running bet around the castle is whose fault it is. Yours for being such an avid climber especially at his age, or Jons for being that feral in the first place. Many times Theon has find where you are, and there's just little Rickon hanging onto his arm before he gets dumped into your lap because hes busy he cant handle this right now. You having to pick him up when he wants to follow Theon again like. "Oh no, you're coming with me." He listens because all of your and Jons kids are secretly a bunch of soft mamas boys, and they love being carried by you.

Jon will ask how his day was, and little Rickon just shows off what new cut or bruise he got because it means he did something even more wild then yesterday.

#i love little rickon being an energy filled menace

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asuiru · 10 months ago

Text

the show im working on has been doing weekly covid tests for everyone where they provide the tests and then everyone can unmask backstage. isn't that great? thats great! yay!

anyways. cut to last saturday. a cast member's out with a positive covid test. i run out and grab a mask. one of the actors presumably gets anxious and studies their theater provided at home covid test kit. checks the expiration date. would you like to guess what the package says. surely not more than 12 months ago.

he comes up to me and asks about it, understandably concerned; i assume this is an honest mistake on the parts of the stage manager and director, and run it up the ladder. oh this is in the middle of a show, by the way, so this is through the headset.

my fellow asm: hey [stage manager] apparently the covid tests are a year expired.

stage manager: yes! [director] told me they are still functional. please tell any actors that if they ask.

i run back to the actor and relay this information, fully aware that it sucks ass: "[stage manager] said [director] said they still work"

i head back to my post and start googling what the expiration date on covid tests means. in the middle of this the actor comes back in and he's found some important information: if this batch of tests' expiration date was extended. it was! for how long you ask? well. 3 months. so instead of 12 months expired they are 9 months expired. great.

i say that probably only the stage manager and director have any say in this and they should probably get a group together to figure out how to confront them about it cuz its kinda extremely shitty of them. i also finish my own research and determine that expiration dates on covid tests signifies when false negatives begin to occur more often because whatevers detecting the covid in there begins to break down.

actors text the stage manager. show ends. i pass the stage manager in probably a stressful call with who i assume is the director. i feel kind of bad for her.

i finish everything up and walk into the prop room to see essentially a stand off between the stage manager and some actors. "you can buy your own covid tests i won't be offended! we provide these for FREE." oh dear.

i smile and nod and go home. that night i decide my opinion is that it wouldve been fine to give the expired tests out if theyd been transparent about it at the start, as both director and stage manager had clearly known about the tests being expired. whatever.

wake up sunday. another positive covid test in the cast. sunday matinee cancelled. ah. i go out and get 8 free tests through insurance and also my flu shot and new covid vaccine. i burn through 2 covid tests. negative. i go to dungeons and dragons.

wake up monday. headaches probably from my shots yesterday. 5 total positive covid tests in the cast; up from 2. director's email: one of the positive cases was detected with the theater's (expired) tests. :) so they still work. :) told you so. bro. take the L. you have a super spreader event at your show.

wake up tuesday. headaches persist. burn through 2 more covid tests because i left the first one in the solution for 30+ minutes and it gave me a positive after being negative at 15 min. second one says im fine. also my period just started which is fucked up. director: thursday and probably friday shows are canceled. no update in the email as to the current number of covid cases. charming. director wants to add two performances next week. its starting to feel like a sinking ship. its been 3 days since i saw anyone in the cast/crew. if i was gonna get covid i wouldve tested positive by now, right? right??? if i feel kinda shitty that's normal first day of period hormones. 2 negative tests in mind, i go to see the touring broadway production of wicked.

wake up wednesday. more accurately, i stay awake all night before wednesday and do a covid test at 6 in the morning in a bout of insomnia induced paranoia. i have covid. incredible. wonderful. i was infectious at wicked and probably also dnd. i email the stage manager. the director's email comes in: fridays show canceled due to an 'abundance of caution'. haha. yeah. an 'abundance'. no mention of how many positive tests are in the cast/crew again. very reassuring. directors email mentions to send the test results to him too so i do that. they both reply to my emails at the exact same time with get well messages despite me having sent them some 4 hours apart. wow. they are in a fucking crisis call arent they.

anyway. i think they are fucked. genuinely cannot imagine any other way for this to go than for the rest of the run to get canceled. its only a week and a half until closing night; if we go by the number of 5 positive tests on monday, and i tested positive on wednesday, we're at least 6; i must assume more people than just me have tested positive since monday, maybe up to approx 10. cast itself cant be larger than like 25-30 people. crew is pretty small, with 6 people here regularly for shows. ~10 people out for at least a week is simply untenable. we are dead in the fucking water.

this sucks because this production of in the heights is genuinely really good. and i genuinely liked the stage manager and director before this whole shitfest. theyve handled this extremely poorly though, so. well.

#ignore the rest of this the moral here is that if youve recently been exposed to covid #dont get the flu shot or covid vaccine #you will go oh my headache is because i just got my flu shot. and bam. covid.#the other moral is that sometimes you will think you feel like shit because your period just started #but actually you feel like shit because you have covid #and sometimes both of these happen at the same time.#and now you dont even know when you started being contagious because it couldve been the flu shot

0 notes

yourmidnightlover · 4 years ago

Text

never stop loving me

Summary - Spencer lashes out at y/n after being upset for a while, only to be far too harsh and push her away.

TW: mean spencer, swearing, bomb, injured reader, kissing

WC - 5,647

masterlist

-----------------------------------------------------------

spencer had been acting weird lately.

and it wasn't his normal, quirky, adorable weird self. it was quiet. too quiet. he didn't ramble like he usually did when you brought anything up.

he was distant. he didn't sit beside you on the plane ride home, or hold your hand as you drove the both of you to your shared apartment.

you didn't want to push him to say anything he didn't want to, but you were getting worried. you rarely had to corner him into talking, but there was the occasional time where you knew he wouldn't get through whatever it was eating himself up until he spoke up and voiced the words in his mind.

so when you both entered the apartment, you hung your coat up on the hook and placed your bag beside the couch as you plopped down.

"spencer?" you asked quietly as he hung his coat up. he turned to face you as you began to pat the seat beside you, wanting him to sit down. he complied with a huff as you took note that he sat at nearly the other end of the couch.

"what?" he asked without looking at you, you could sense the attitude in his voice.

"i'm worried about you," you whispered. "can you open up? what's bothering you right now?" you moved closer to him and placed a hand on his lower thigh comfortingly.

"you're worried about me?" he spat out, looking at you incredulously. "i'm sure that's true," he scoffed sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he flicked your hand off his leg.

"spencer why would yo-" you started as you scooted closer to him on the couch.

"why would i what? why would i not believe you when you ask me that? you're a smart girl, y/n. figure it out," he nearly yelled at you as he began to get up from the couch. you grabbed his hand with both of yours, not wanting him to leave you like that.

"please, spence. i just need to kno-"

"you should be able to figure it out yourself!" he shouted. "and stop touching me! oh my god all you ever do is touch me! did you ever think that maybe something's wrong with you if you have to always be touching someone? god! just don't ever touch me! you're so annoying! what the hell is wrong with you?"

"i-i'm sorry. i didn't think it wa-" you started apologizing.

"exactly! you didn't think! you never think about anyone but yourself! you never stopped to think about how fucking uncomfortable you touching me is! i hate being near you. i can't do it," he started shaking his head as he ran his hands over his face.

"wh-what?" you asked as the teas you didn't know were gathering in your eyes began spilling down your cheeks.

"you heard me," he said as he started to turn around. "i'm just gonna sleep alone tonight," he started walking towards your bedroom.

"i'll sleep on the couch," you spoke up before he made it to the room, he stopped in his tracks. "your back's been hurting lately, and you're too tall to fit on the couch comfortably. i'll sleep on the couch," you whispered, partially afraid that he wouldn't be able to hear you, wiping at the tears.

"whatever," he said as he finished his journey into the bedroom, not bothering to look at you.

you wanted to wait until he was asleep to get any blankets or anything, so the only things going through your mind were his words to you.

what the hell is wrong with you?

i hate being near you...

just don't ever touch me!

you weren't sure what was bothering him this much, but if you knew anything about spencer it was that that man could hold a grudge.

when emily had 'come back from the dead' it was like it was a different kind of person. it wasn't the spencer you fell in love with and you knew it, but that doesn't excuse his words.

so, you did what anyone in your position would do. you gave him space. you dialed the number of a trusted friend and colleague, praying she would pick up.

"hello?" the groggy voice rang out from the phone speaker.

"hi," you meekly replied. "sorry, i know it's pretty late. i umm," you sniffled, "i just didn't know who else to call."

"what happened, y/n? are you hurt? is everything okay?" she asked worried.

"yea, yea. everything's okay," you sighed. "i think spencer might just need some space is all."

"ummm, okay. is there anything i can do?"

"actually, yea? i hate to ask you this or put you in a weird position, but i was wondering if i could stay with you for a while?" you rambled out.

"of course you can. do you even have to ask?" she replied quietly.

"oh my gosh, you're a lifesaver. i-it might not be for long, i'm not really sure," you began. "it might be until spencer is ready, o-or maybe until i umm," you sniffled again, "until i find my own place?"

"that's okay, honey. i promise," she answered sweetly.

"thank you so much. i owe you, em," you sighed as you wiped the tears from your cheeks.

"don't even worry about it, y/n. i'm glad you came to me. are you coming here tonight?"

"if you don't mind... i'm not sure if spencer would want to see me when he umm, when he wakes up," you nodded even though she couldn't see you.

"okay. i'll be waiting."

"alright. i'll probably leave in like half an hour. bye."

"bye," she replied before you hung up.

you snuck into your bedroom, and noticed how spencer was sleeping peacefully.

you had began as friends at the bureau. you didn't even think of him in a romantic way until he admitted his feelings after one drunk night out with the team. it was sweet, a bit sloppy, but sweet.

he kept rambling about how beautiful you were, and how good you smelt when you would lay your head on his shoulder to fall asleep or when you were cuddled up on your couch watching movies. he told you about how you made him feel like less of a weirdo when he would ramble about things he knew, just wanting to be liked by others.

he mentioned how he loved that he could come to you for anything at any time. he also told you about how he appreciated that when you met him, you didn't try to shake his hand. you knew how uncomfortable he was with touching a stranger and allowed him to make the first move. you let him be the one to cross the bridge that was physical touch because you were just that caring for others, and that's truly what he loved about you from the beginning.

then he said that he would never tell you how much he liked you because he never wanted those things to stop.

by that time, you had already driven him back to his place, and helped him into bed. he begged you to stay, so you obliged kindly and opted to take the couch. he told you to stay in the bed with him. he was the one to pull you closer onto his chest. he was the one to stroke you hair as you fell asleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

he didn't even remember that night. he woke up with you in his arms, content with the warmth you provided him. he loved the way you instinctively curled into his chest even more.

you never brought it up.

then you realized that you felt the same for him on one of the later cases. you wanted to hold him while he cried, and rejoice with him when he had his wins. you wanted to hear his stupid rants about something as miniscule as sprinkles on a birthday cake. you wanted that closeness he graced you with. you just wanted him.

and now, as you picked a few more pieces of clothes to pack, you heard rustling coming from the sheets. you turned to see spencer now sitting up in bed, looking at you.

"...hi," you whispered with tight lips.

"what're you doing?" he asked. you couldn't tell what he was thinking since it was still dark.

"i'm umm, i was gonna stay with emily for a while," you said as you wiped the tears from your cheeks for the thousandth time. "i um, didn't think you'd want me to be here when you woke up," you nodded as you folded the clothes in your hands. "i was going to leave in about 20 minutes, so i'll be out soon," you felt your lip quivering.

you didn't want to cry in front of him. maybe it was that you wanted to have a sense of dignity, but if it came down to it you would bet that you just didn't want him to feel bad. even after he basically said he hated you.

because that's who you were.

you were a touchy person. that's how you show love to others. that's how others know you care for them.

but now he said he hated that about you.

he hated the way you would gently graze his hand with yours when you could tell he was upset. he hated the way you ran your hand through his hair when he was stressed. he hated the way you placed your hand on his shoulders when he was sad or frustrated.

he hated you.

and he just looked at you standing there. he didn't say anything. he looked at you as tears welled in your eyes from his words.

the words that felt like a burning blade being dragged along your spine. the words that felt like bile rising from your stomach.

"i'll just go now," you said as you ran out of the room and into the living room, not noticing the way that spencer followed you.

"hey," spencer spoke up as you piled the clothes into your go bag that was still beside the couch.

"yea?" you sniffled, not bothering to look at him while pulling on the sweater that was keeping you warm.

when you finally turned to see him he was looking at you with a blank expression. he was looking at the sweater you were wearing. you looked down at it, not remembering it was one of his he had let you worn during the case in north dakota. it was the one you wore when you realized your feelings for him, almost a month after he admitted them for you.

the one you wore when you shared your first kiss in the snow.

"oh," you said as you felt the tears build up again. "you... want it back?" you asked as the tear fell down your face, leaving a burning sensation that felt far better than what you felt inside.

he didn't say anything. you couldn't even see him since the tears were blinding you. so, you slowly unbuttoned the sweater and folded it nicely as you handed it to him.

"i-i'm sorry," you sniffled. "i didn't um - i didn't want to make you un-uncomfortable," you said as you zipped the bag up and grabbed your keys, heading to the door. "just know that i um, i love you."

and you were gone. you rushed out of the door. you didn't want to wait to see if he would tell you he loved you back, scared that you'd be waiting for a lifetime. so you ran to your car and drove off to emily's place, leaving spencer standing in the living room, frozen from what just happened.

but you couldn't see his heart breaking in return. he pulled his sweater up to his face and recognized the sweet scent of you on it that made him break down.

when he noticed how cold you were from the snow from forgetting your jacket at the hotel, he automatically gave you his. he didn't even care how cold he would get - just that you'd be a bit more comfortable.

he draped the sweater over your shoulders to help you put it on, and rubbed your arms for more friction to get you more warm. then, when you turned to look him in the face, you leaned in slowly and grabbed his face.

"can-is this okay?" you asked kindly.

he didn't even respond. he just connected his lips with yours after giving you the brightest smile. he relished in the moment of feeling content, whole, peace. you.

and now you gave him back that very sweater.

in reality, he was looking at the sweater you were wearing as a sign of hope. he thought that maybe since you were still wearing it, he hadn't completely squandered his chance of forgiveness with you.

but you gave him his sweater back with tears in your eyes.

he made you cry.

he drove you away.

when emily answered the door, you broke down in her arms, which was quite the role-reversal.

you were always the one to comfort the other team members. you never really went to anyone for help, you never wanted to burden them with your problems when they all had lives. you just wanted to help them. that's just how selfless you were.

"i'm here, y/n," emily consoled you. "let it out, sweetie. that's it," she stroked you hair as she led the two of you to the couch so you could cry in her arms.

when you finally calmed down a little bit, you started apologizing.

"i'm so sorry. i know it's really late, i just didn't know who else to go to and i'm just so..." you sniffled.

"don't worry about it. i'm glad you came to me. now, care to tell me what happened?"

so you told her. everything.

okay, so you made him seem like less of a douche bag, but you told her. you just tried to explain to her his side of the story, trying to be more understanding.

"and you feel bad? you aren't mad at him?" she questioned in disbelief.

"yea, of course i feel bad. being myself has made him uncomfortable, em. how could i be mad at him when i'm so hopelessly in love with him?" you asked in question.

"oh, sweetheart," she said as she pulled you back into a hug.

she had a plan.

okay, it wasn't much of a plan.

it was more of just chewing him out.

but she knew that would work.

because she also knew how much he loved you. and she knew there had to be a reason he was treating you like that.

the next day you had gotten called in at 4 a. m. with a new case. you drove to the office with emily and walked in behind her. once you saw spencer sitting at the round table in his normal seat beside yours, you felt a kind of rage boil inside of you.

he was just sitting there with a gloom look on his face, not trying to apologize for what he had said to you or anything. you'd thought that maybe he'd even look at you by now but he hasn't even noticed your presence. nothing.

you huffed, walking over to sit in a chair you normally wouldn't be in. spencer finally turned to see it was you who sat down, so you looked him up and down before turning your eyes towards hotch who was giving you all the briefing.

there was a bomber in charleston, california. he would send bomb to local corporations that had a history of animal testing. He was essentially trying to rid the world of those who harm animals, which is quite ironic since that involved killing humans.

each of the buildings were two stories, yet the bomb didn't level it. that's how you knew the bomb was meant to send a message rather than kill more people.

so until his message was spread and out in the open for all people, he'd continue to kill people without hesitation. human life wasn't valuable to him, so it was your job to stop him.

once you had gotten to california, you had all been divided into teams. you went with morgan and spencer to the most recent bomb site to analyze anything they might've missed.

the entire scene smelled like burnt papers, no surprise there. aside from the fact that people had previously died where you were standing, the tension in the air was so thick it felt as though the smoke had remained from the explosion.

you had avoided spencer, tried to talk to him as little as possible when you had to. unless it was for the case, you didn't speak. until hotch decided to room the two of you together.

you had asked the girls if you could room with them, only for them to refuse and make you 'work things out with your beau.' so essentially, you were screwed.

you trudged into the room before spencer had made it, being sure to lock the door behind you just to annoy spencer. was it petty? sure. did he deserve it? yes. would you apologize? absolutely not.

once you turned around, you realized there was only one bed. of course hotch would do that. what a dick. you sighed before placing your things on the couch, deciding that spencer's back pain is completely different than being temporarily locked out of your room. you were truly doing it for yourself so you wouldn't have to hear him complain the next day about his back hurting.

after you had gotten out of the shower, your body in only a small towel, you heard the door knock. you knew it was spencer, his signature knock giving it away, and decided you could open it for him. when he realized you were practically naked and everyone had a view of you from the hallway, he quickly pushed you further inside along with himself and slammed the door shut.

"what the hell, y/n?" he whisper-yelled at you, gesturing to what you were wearing. "anybody could've seen you and you're practically naked!"

"and?" you crossed your arms over your chest. "i don't see why you should have any say so in what i'm wearing."

"you're wearing a towel," he stated as if you hadn't already known.

"and?" you shrugged. "is my body making you uncomfortable? is that why you don't want to touch me, spencer?" you rolled your eyes before turning to get your clothes from your suitcase.

you decided to just strip right in front of him, just to tease him a bit more. you slowly slid the towel down your body, your back still towards spencer as you shimmied into your shorts that barely covered anything. you turned around to get your shirt, revealing your bare chest to spencer who stood in awe of what was happening in front of him. you put your thin shirt on tantalizingly slow, aware that he could probably see your nipples through the fabric, but that was the entire point.

spencer walked over to you slowly, you smiled at him happily as he approached you. when he brought his hands up to cup your face gently, you swatted his hands away from you.

"ah-ahh," you shook your head no. "there's no touching allowed," you rolled your eyes one last time before getting comfortable on the couch, pulling the one extra blanket in the room over your body in an attempt to keep warm.

as the minutes turned into an hour, you felt yourself becoming more upset. his words, even if he didn't mean them, had an impact on you. he couldn't just unsay the words or take them back, that's not how it works. instead, he made you live with the thought and constant worry that you made him uncomfortable by touching him.

and that pained you. that pain turned into tears, which ensued sniffling because of your runny nose. and your tears and sniffles pained spencer even more. he listened in wait as you cried yourself to sleep once more, the sniffled slowing down which told him of your slumber.

when you woke up, you had realized you were awake before spencer. you quickly got ready and made your way downstairs to retrieve some mediocre coffee. deciding to not be a complete asshole, you got spencer his own cup as well just how he liked it and placed it on the bedside table for when he would wake up.

when he did wake up, it was to the smell of coffee beside him. he had obviously realized you had gotten it for him, he wasn't a complete idiot other than the fact that he had hurt you in the first place. when he took a sip of it, it was just as he liked it.

of course it was, he thought, it's you.

since there were so many animal activists that were recorded online, you couldn't really narrow down the suspect range. once you had all made it back to the precinct that morning, they had widdled down all the companies that have ever used testing on animals. there were four companies in total, so you would all split up and investigate each one.

you, of course, had been paired with spencer once again. it was obviously the rest of the team conspiring to get you two to make up, but he hadn't even apologized. and you refused to make the first move.

so as you drove to the company you had been assigned, there was yet again that irritable tension in the air that made it seem like someone could choke on it. you pulled into the parking lot and got out as quickly as you could.

making your way inside, you asked where the owner of the company was while flashing your badge, spencer making his way inside just in time to catch where you were going and follow.

"hi, ma'am," you introduced yourself, extending your hand for her to shake. "i'm here in regards for the-"

"recent bombings? yes, i figured you would be," barbara cooke sighed as she released your hand.

"yes, i'm agent y/n yl/n/ and this is dr. spencer reid," you motioned to him as he gave her an awkward wave. "we were wondering if you've received any recent threats concerning your history in-"

"animal testing? we get those all the time, agent... what was it again?" she asked disrespectfully.

"y/l/n," you informed her once again.

"right, well we get those too often for it to be significant. in fact, we get those almost weekly," she rolled her eyes before turning back to the computer on her desk.

"ma'am, if you wouldn't mind just trying to think of a threat that stuck out to you. one in particular that made it seem as though they might follow through?" spencer asked kindly.

"i actually do mind. i have a company to run and don't need to waste my time on something that won't ever affect me. so please, see yourselves out," she motioned to the door with a sigh.

you and spencer looked at each other before turning around and leaving her office. instead, you decided to ask the employees if they saw anyone that seemed as though they were landscaping the office.

"no, not really. i'm too busy trying to finish the work cooke gives me."

"i'm sorry, no. i try to just ind my own business around here."

"i'm sorry, there have been bombings?"

there wasn't much luck.

you were making your rounds right back to the front of the office, asking nearly everyone that you passed if they noticed anyone suspicious until you noticed a mailman near the front of the room.

he was dressed in an all-brown outfit, but with no logo of what company he worked for. not even a hat to display the name. all the companies that delivered had company logos displayed on the outfits, just to display for publicity.

when you looked around at who was near you, your eyes locked on spencer who was walking towards you, his head down. once you saw the mailman walk out of the office and saw the lady at the front desk begin to open the tape, you grabbed spencer by the arm.

it all happened so quickly.

you pushed spencer out of the door and locked it, blocking him from the blast that would surely ensue, and ran as quick as you could to drag the woman away from the box. you shielded her with your body, turning your back to where the bomb would go off to lessen the impact on her body. before you could even register what happened, you were pushed into the wall cati-corner the desk, knocking you unconscious.

spencer didn't know what was happening until he heard the bomb.

he assumed the blast wasn't as intense as it was previously by the fact that the second story was still standing. the blast from the other bombs at least made a bit of a dent in the second story.

in an instant, he realized that he might've lost you forever. the love of his life. gone.

and you were still mad at him. you hated him. you thought he hated you.

once he was able to form a coherent thought, he pulled his phone out and called 911, being sure to tell them there was a possible agent down in an explosion. once he hung up, he mustered up his inner derek morgan and kicked the doors in, it helped that they were already frail due to the explosion.

with the doors now open, smoke flowed out of the now open space, looking for an escape as spencer was looking for his love. all he could hear were coughs and whines of the employees around him. then he felt a hand on his shoulder, he looked to see the face of the lady from the front desk.

"she-she saved me," the woman told spencer in reference to you. "she's over here," spencer helped her navigate himself to where your body lay limp on the ground, drywall covering your face and body.

"oh my god, y/n," he called as he moved the rubbish from your body before looking for a pulse.

he found himself whispering a series of pleas that you were okay, that he would find the pulse in your neck or wrist. that he would feel the warmth off your body against his, be able to touch your skin and have you grab his hand when you were nervous. he wanted you to never stop touching him.

because ever since you had joined the bureau, you had been a touchy person. you were the person people went to when they needed comfort because they wanted a hug. you were the person the team counted on when comforting the mothers or children because you had a comforting touch.

and he wanted that comfort. he needed that comfort right then. but the one person he needed the comfort from didn't think he wanted it from them. you didn't think he wanted you anymore.

so you had to be okay. because he couldn't imagine a world where you weren't his, which sounds so cliche but couldn't be any more true.

ever since you waltzed into his life, he could never remember what it was like without you. what it was like without your hand running through his soft hair. without your hand on his knee underneath the bau table during a meeting. without your face buried in his neck while you were cuddling at night. without your kiss...

without you.

he needed you.

and he found the small, faint, minuscule pulse that beat throughout your body. a gentle but safe way to know you were alive and still with him. maybe you'd still want to be with him.

when the ambulance arrived, he didn't hesitate to hop in the back of the van, opting to call the team to inform them of what happened.

they had put an oxygen mask on you to ensure your safety and had told him that you had a concussion from the blast. they would do further tests once they got to the hospital, which felt like it took forever, according to spencer.

once they had wheeled you away, spencer sat in wait once again. the team slowly trickled in, trying to comfort spencer but ultimately failing. when the doctor finally came in, spencer was the first to jump up and ask how you were.

"she'll make a full recovery, she's rather lucky," he nodded at spencer before checking his chart. "she has three bruised ribs and a minor concussion. she'll be able to fly in a couple of days, but will have to stay out of the field until her ribs are fully healed. she shouldn't be doing any strenuous activities until then as well," he informed the doctor. "other than that she's healthy as a horse."

"thank you. can i see her now?" spencer asked eagerly.

"yes, of course," he nodded before turning around. "right this way."

when spencer came into your room, your eyes were barely open. it looked like you were struggling to stay awake. your face and arms were littered with an occasional bruise, which he's sure were worse on your stomach and legs. your skin was a bit paler than usual, it didn't have that glow you normally had, that liveliness.

but you still looked like you. you still looked beautiful.

spencer took the seat beside your bed and moved it closer to you, taking your hand in his before you snatched it away, turning on your side to face the wall opposite of where spencer sat.

"y/n, please..." spencer pleaded, feeling his eyes well with tears. he thought you were just angry at him until he heard your soft sniffles. "darling, please look at me," he placed his hand on your shoulder, gently pulling you back to face him. you turned yourself back around to face him, eyes red and swollen as your lip was quivering.

"what?" you spat out, trying to maintain your own composure until you saw he was crying himself. you raised your brows in shock before asking him, "what's wrong?"

he laughed, "you're asking me what's wrong?" you nodded. "i'm just so, so sorry i'm sorry i said all those things about you. i'm sorry it took you almost dying for me to apologize. and i'm sorry for ever making you feel like i didn't love you, y/n. i love you so much. every part of you, your touch included. it's anything but annoying. it's comforting, and sweet, and calming, and does so much more to help me than it does hurt or annoy me," he took your hand in his once more, placing a kiss to your knuckles. "i love you so much and i'm so sorry."

"and i'm sorry i had to touch you to push you out of the way of an explosion," you rolled your eyes with a chuckle so he knew you were joking.

"thanks for that, by the way - saving me," he shrugged. "which brings me to my next point... do you know how reckless that was? how dangerous and stupid and how you could have died? because you could have died and if you died i don't know what i'd do with myself. especially knowing you were mad at me when you died," he held your hand to his chest so you could feel how his heart broke in those moments he didn't know if you were alive. the moments he thought he might've lost you forever.

"but i'm alive. i'm right here," you assured him, bringing his hand to your lips this time to press a kiss before holding the one with both of yours. "why'd you say those things anyway? why were you so upset?"

"well remember the officer that was on the case?" you nodded. "remember how he kept touching you?" you rolled your eyes with a nod.

"god, it was so annoying," you interjected.

"well it didn't seem like you thought it was annoying," he avoided eye contact with you, you pulled his arm to get his attention once again.

"are you saying you thought i wanted him to be so handsy?" you questioned, he nodded guiltily. "spencer, are you kidding?" you chuckled. "i had to do that because if he knew i hated him he wouldn't have been so cooperative. i promise, you are the only one for me. you're the only one i want to touch me like that. but that doesn't excuse you talking to me like that. you saying those things hurt me, a lot."

"i know, i know they did... and i plan on making it up to you. i will make it up to you, i swear," he nodded along eagerly.

"yea, you better dr. reid. i'm holding you to that," you huffed out a laugh, spencer following suit as he leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

then to your nose. then right and left cheeks. then your lips. it wasn't a kiss that demanded anything. it wasn't hostile or passionate. it was content. it was a way of showing you love and saying that your love was enough. that you were enough.

"i love you, spencer," you whispered as he pressed his forehead against yours.

"and i love you, y/n," he whispered back. "please never stop loving me the way you do."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer x you #spencer x y/n #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader fluff

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the-insomniac-emporium · 4 years ago

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Slumbering Hearts (Alcina Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 3

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Rating: T for language, implied cannibalism (because Vampires)

Warnings: Aforementioned implied cannibalism

Summary: In a wicked twist of fate, you find out your soulmate is none other than your employer, Lady Dimitrescu. To your misery, she (at first) seems equally displeased, her heart already belonging to another. But in time, the two of you find yourselves wondering… could the universe be right, after all? Soulmate AU in which every person has a unique “soul mark”, which they share with their soulmate.

Notes: Features a cameo of sorts for my OC, Avaskian Caldwell. Not beta read.

Previous Chapters: 1: In The Shadow Of Giants, 2: Uncertain Destinations

3: Eat Your Heart

“Well,” Bela says, only moderately sounding hostile, “I do believe that marks the end of our tour. Unless you would like to see the dungeons? Perhaps get a proper look at where you might end up, hmm?” Resisting the urge to roll your eyes is more difficult than you would have preferred. Somehow you manage, though, and reply in a relatively relaxed tone.

“I think I’ll have to pass. After all, I wouldn’t want to be late for dinner, now would I?” You incline your head towards a nearby clock to emphasize your point. For a split second Bela seems surprised, as if she hadn’t been keeping track of time at all. But the look vanishes as quickly as it came about, soon replaced with a calculating gaze, and she gives a short nod. “Is it safe to assume that you eat together, as a family?” Another nod, this time accompanied by a small look of confusion. “Mmm, sounds wonderful. It’s been far too long since I’ve shared a nice family meal.”

That certainly wasn’t what Bela had expected you to say.

“Oh? I do hope that you can stomach the sight of blood, then. Otherwise it might not feel so nice,” she replies, after a slight pause. Her earlier confidence had returned, further bolstered by the resulting giggles from her sisters. They were a chaotic bunch. Regardless, Bela soon takes your wrist in her hand, pulling you towards the dining room, grip only tight enough to be slightly uncomfortable. Both of her siblings followed closely behind, occasionally whispering unintelligible jokes to one another. One in particular leaves Daniela pausing in the hallway, hunched over laughing, with an unnerving edge of something else you couldn’t quite place. A backwards glance in her direction leads you to make eye contact with Cassandra, who gives you a knowing smirk. Deciding that you didn’t want to know what she had said, you turned back towards Bela, and stayed facing that way until you reached the dining hall.

Inside, Alcina was already sitting at the head of the table, in a chair that would have seemed a throne to anyone else. On either side of her are two more seats, far less ornate than her own. For a moment the sisters and you hesitate in the entranceway. Evidently they weren’t accustomed to this particular arrangement, unsure where to sit. It’s not until Bela clears her throat that Alcina speaks up.

“On my left, dear,” she says, eying her eldest daughter, before turning to you. “You may sit to my right. I trust that you’ll find this agreeable?” Well, you weren’t exactly about to argue with her, so yes, you found it agreeable. Even if it meant sitting across from the more ‘direct’ member of your opposition. Though perhaps ‘judge’ and/or ‘jury’ was a better word for the Dimitrescu daughters. Regardless, you were going to have to sit with them, and in the end it hardly mattered who was where. As such, you semi-awkwardly made your way to your seat, hoping that you’d eventually feel less out of place. Soon enough Cassandra takes the spot next to you, giving you a concerning smirk as she does. What did she have planned? Before you can even contemplate her intentions, her mother is talking again, drawing both of your attention towards herself. “Splendid. I’m glad to see that you’re already finding your place here.”

It’s not hard, you think, when you’re directing my every step. Despite your biting internal commentary, you do not speak out loud, merely giving a polite smile and nod. Across from you, Bela gives her mother an affectionate expression before fixing you with a subtle disapproving look. Taking some small comfort in the fact that she wasn’t being openly hostile, you forced yourself to keep smiling, meeting her gaze with as much confidence as you can muster. Within moments both of you have your attention drawn elsewhere, thankfully, as servants begin carrying in various food platters. Most of the dishes appeared to be perfectly normal. But looks could be deceiving, and you knew that at least a handful had to contain less “traditional” ingredients. They remembered to cook something normal for me, right?

Soon enough your fears are somewhat alleviated, as one of the servants places an already filled plate in front of you. Admittedly you don’t recognize xer, despite xer oddly silver hair, or the red bandana xe wore. Something told you that xe wasn’t just another maiden, however, especially with the way xe brazenly made eye contact with each of the Dimitrescus. Before you could inquire about xer, you’re distracted by the arrival of Juniper, who instantly smiles when she sees you. In her arms she carries the last two side dishes and several empty plates, which the unknown servant gently takes from her. Together the two of them set the final items into place. Wordlessly, the grey-haired person removes a notebook from xer back pocket, handing it to Juniper with the barest sliver of a smile. Clearly having done this more than once, she accepts it readily, opening it to a bookmarked page.

“My Ladies, and our dearest, most esteemed guest, I present to you another fine selection of traditional Romanian dishes, for your sincere enjoyment. Today we will be drinking one of our more popular styles of wine, known as Febris Amatoria, meaning ‘fever of love’ in Latin,” she reads, only somewhat shakily. Next to her, the stranger inclines xer head to your employers, then does the same to you. At this point you have to assume that xe doesn’t speak, and that Juniper was serving as a translator of sorts. “Due to the unexpected nature of our guest, the dishes are not clearly marked in regards to their ingredients. You have my- as in Mx Caldwell- assurance that this will be handled by the next standard mealtime, where the shared dishes will be color coded. In the meantime, I- again, Mx Caldwell- will remain here, in order to prevent any… unintentional ingestion of human remains.” Gulping, Juniper returns the notebook to the stranger (Caldwell, apparently), then exits the room alongside the other servants.

“Isn’t Febris Amatoria also another name for a type of anemia?” Bela asks, slowly swirling the contents of her glass as she does. Caldwell, who had moved to stand several feet behind Alcina, gives a nod in response, and appears mildly amused.

“A clever allusion to our family’s nature, isn’t it? I know Daniela has certainly drained a number of ‘lovers’ over the years, perhaps causing a case or two,” Cassandra teases, much to her younger sister’s irritation. Personally you were surprised that she was willing to admit such a thing in front of her mother. Unless you were reading too much into the word ‘lovers’, due to the rumors you had heard regarding Lady Daniela. Nonetheless, the Lady in question is aggravated enough to sit up, looking ready to lunge across the table at Cassandra. As soon as Daniela moves (with frightening speed), her sister easily catches her wrist, using her other hand to wave a finger back and forth. “Ah, ah, ah, Dani, we have a guest. Do try to behave yourself.”

“Oh, because you’re the epitome of table manners? I’m amazed you haven’t already managed to spill wine all over your dress,” Daniela counters, before ripping her arm away from Cassandra. They both huff, but are quick to quiet down when their mother sends them a look. “Dinner looks delectable, as usual, Ava,” Daniela continues, after clearing her throat, accentuating the end of her sentence with a gesture of her wine glass. Then she takes a long drink from it, perhaps thinking that a little intoxication might make the evening easier to get through. Deciding that maybe she had the right idea, you take a sip from your own glass, relishing the subtle hint of lavender.

In the minutes that follow, things slide into easy comfort. Caldwell once more moves closer to the table, helping pass along side-dishes from person to person, quietly pointing out which ones you could safely consume, occasionally chuckling in response to the jokes that the daughters shared. A strange warmth built itself up within the center of your chest, heart yearning for age-old memories of your own family. Three months had passed since the last time you felt this way. Really, it felt so much like family that you didn’t catch the way Cassandra’s lips twitched into a smirk, or the way she met Bela’s gaze, or the way she pushed a dish just a tad further towards you than necessary. All it had taken was a single second of your gaze turned elsewhere… then you were reaching for the castle’s special variety of forbidden fruit.

“Ayye, nyet, nyet!” Caldwell snaps, voice oddly strained, hand wrapping around your wrist in an instant. All eyes are on you now, though Alcina’s soon flicker over to the servant. “Cass. Bad girl,” xe continues, going so far as to shake xer finger disapprovingly. Understandably, you’re rather shocked to see a butler be so bold with someone so dangerous. Even more shocking is the way that Cassandra backs down without a hint of a fight, refusing to meet her mother’s steely gaze, not even pretending that she hadn’t attempted to trick you. Satisfied with this outcome, Caldwell wordlessly fades back into the background.

Although you had almost committed an unwilling act of cannibalism, you managed to slowly relax again, content to listen in on (but not participate in) the conversations around you. ‘Twas somewhat awkward, admittedly, to be the odd one out in a family so close. Yet a part of you had gained a new sense of hope by meeting Caldwell. After all, if a human such as xerself could become so close as to chastise Cassandra of all people, why couldn’t you?

---------------------------

“Once again, I would like to… apologize, on behalf of my daughters,” Alcina says, rather softly, still keeping a gentle hand on your back to guide you along. “I must admit, I do not wish to dwell on what might have happened if not for Avaskian.”

“Believe it or not, I think I actually understand where they’re coming from. Though, of course, I am also grateful for Caldwell’s intervention. But really… your family has been together for several decades now, right? Any addition is guaranteed to stir things up,” you respond with a shrug. “Besides, I’m more than aware that I don’t exactly stand at the same level as your other romantic interest.” Suddenly both of you are halting in the middle of the hallway, unable to meet each other’s gaze, regret rumbling like butterflies in your stomach. You hadn’t intended to bring up your soulmate’s somewhat obvious affections for Mother Miranda.

“Hmm. So you are… aware of that,” Alcina murmurs, finally turning her head to look down at you. There’s no small amount of pain in her eyes, though you can tell she’s holding as much of it in as possible. “I would prefer it if we did not speak of this. I do hope you have no qualms with that.” For once, there is no hint of force or commanding edge to her tone. For once, she is letting you act as an equal, the first step towards actually accepting your role as her soulmate. It’s enough to make the corners of your lips turn up, if only for a moment.

“Alcina… I understand. I merely want to say that it won’t affect how I feel, or how I act. Love is a blessing, even when it ends in pain. I… have loved before. People whom I will never see again, people who never felt the same way, and maybe people who I really only thought that I loved. I’m trying to think of those experiences as lessons. Situations that taught me something about myself, or about what love is, that I can keep in mind and use going forward. Just as I promised to your daughters, I will try to love you. I will give you an honest chance, regardless of our past circumstances. Because we’re soulmates. Because this is the world offering us a shot at something amazing, and I’m not about to give that up,” you explain, placing one of your hands in Alcina’s. For a moment there’s silence, but you see both surprise and happiness in her expression. Still, there’s a hint of tension remaining in the air, so you do your best to dispel it. “Also your daughters threatened to kill me if I didn’t, and I’d hate to perish before lasting a full year here. I heard a rumor that one of the senior staff members makes cards to celebrate.”

Next thing you know, you’re hearing a beautiful sound, a light, genuine laugh from Alcina, who all at once releases the tension in her shoulders.

“Yes, I do believe Ava, or Caldwell as you said, still makes those. Always with strange little drawings of felines…” She trails off, voice fading into another chuckle, before at last resuming her walk, never letting go of your hand. “As much as I have enjoyed our chat, I do believe it is about time that I retire for the night. We will see each other once more in the morning. For now, I bid you goodnight. Sleep well, my dear.” With that, the two of you arrive at the entrance to the servants’ quarters, and you find just enough courage to bring her hand to your lips, for a brief kiss.

“Goodnight, Lady Alcina. May your dreams be as sweet as your company.”

#alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #j has ocs #avaskian caldwell

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sierraraeck · 4 years ago

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The Better Kisser

BAU x Bi!Fem!Reader

Emily x Bi!Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: After finding out that you haven’t had very many kissing experiences, the team realizes you’re the perfect candidate to judge who the best kisser on the team is.

Category: Fluff

Warnings: As you may have guessed, lots of kissing.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: Just a little something that popped into my head that I just needed to write. This is technically an AU where the members of the team are Hotch, Rossi, Spencer, Penelope, Derek, Emily, JJ, Luke, and Tara. Everyone is single.

It was true. You hadn’t kissed very many people. You decided long ago that it wasn’t really in the cards for you, dating and kissing and relationships, that is, so yeah. You weren’t what one would call an ‘experienced kisser.’ Your friends had teased you for it, but you’d always shrugged it off. It wasn’t something to be ashamed of.

You’d never thought it’d be something to be grateful for either, until tonight.

It’d been a long, hard case, and everyone was dying to get out of the stupid office, and away from those stupid files, so that you could all finally relax, maybe even have some fun. You’d only been with the team for about three months, and it was like an entire whirlwind throwing you this way and that. You also hadn’t gotten to know the team too well either, considering how busy you all constantly were. Your first week on the job, they went out for drinks after a case, but you were so exhausted that you left after the first round.

There hadn’t been time, or energy, since then for the team to spend quality, relaxed time together. That’s why tonight was extra exciting.

“You’re telling me that throughout all of highschool, all of college, you haven’t kissed more than two people?” Derek asked incredulously. You couldn’t fully remember how you’d all gotten onto the subject, except that you had. You were sitting on Garcia’s squishy couch, littered with colorful pillows and all sorts of stuffed animals. Garcia had decided that instead of going out to a bar, you were all going to go over to her place, minus Hotch and Rossi who tapped out early.

You shrugged. “Nope. I had one boyfriend and one drunk kiss, both of which were bad experiences for me. I’ve kind of avoided all of that since then.” You explained, “Plus, when would I have time for that? Between my college studies and getting into the FBI, then BAU, I didn’t really have free time.”

“I mean, sure, I guess,” Derek continued, “but come one. There had to be guys falling at your feet!”

You laughed. “Not all of us have that kind of draw, Derek.” He nudged you, and you nudged him back with a wink.

He was right, though. You were stunning. Even when you just put your hair up and wore sweatpants, there was just something about you. You would probably look good in a trash bag. But men were not just falling at your feet. Even if they were, you wouldn’t notice, putting all of your energy into chasing your dreams instead. You thought that was a very reasonable, and responsible, thing of you to do.

Plus, you’d done the whole boyfriend thing, and weren’t really interested in trying it again. Well, not as interested as you were in trying the whole girlfriend thing. And your first day on the job, a certain badass brunette caught your eye, and was even the first one to make you really feel like part of the team. You were finding it harder and harder to resist her pull.

“Yeah Derek,” JJ chimed in, drawing your attention back to the conversation, “Not all of us can rack up eight phone numbers and five make out sessions in one night.”

“What can I say?” Derek beamed, pride shining in his eyes. “I’m a great kisser.” Emily snorted. When Derek glared at her, she pressed her lips together and looked down. “What?”

“Nothing,” Emily sang, shaking her head with an air of mischief.

“No seriously, what?”

“It’s just that if you read girls half as well as you claim to, you might wonder if that’s always the case.” Derek’s jaw hung open, and Emily smirked at him with unabashed confidence. You stared at her and her piercing eyes, and you couldn’t help but admire how sexy she was when she was confident, smug even.

“Wow, you’re gonna go there?” Derek asked, feigning hurt disbelief, “And how would you know that?”

Again, Emily shrugged and nonchalantly stated, “Because I know how women act when they kiss me. And trust me. They’re actually enjoying themselves.”

Some ‘ooh’s radiated throughout the room, and based on the look Penelope had plastered to her face, things were about to get good.

You watched in amusement as Derek sat up a little straighter, “Is that a challenge?”

“If you want it to be.” Emily’s brows shot up.

“Alright, you’re on,” Derek nodded, determination radiating off of him.

“Well, I don’t know how strong either of your games are,” Luke spoke up, glancing quickly over at Spencer who was just observing the whole encounter, “but I think I could take on both of you.”

“No you could not,” Tara sneered from beside him.

“And you could?” Luke challenged.

Setting her glass down, Tara replied, “Yes.”

You giggled at the thought of the four of them having a kiss-off, just imagining how utterly chaotic that would be due to all of their extraordinarily competitive natures.

“Oh my god, this is going to be so fun!” Penelope squealed. “Now we just have to figure out who’s going to judge!”

“We can’t really use one of us because some people might be biased or recognize the kisser,” Emily casually stated. It took a moment for you to realize what she’d just admitted to. Who on the team has kissed before? But before you could really start thinking about it, you noticed that everyone’s gaze had slowly turned to you.

“What is happening right now?” you questioned, looked between them.

The five of them exchanged excited, knowing looks before training their attention back on you. Then you got it. “Are you serious?”

“You’re the only one who hasn’t kissed one of us!” Derek explained, as if it were obvious.

“You mean…” you trailed off, but again couldn’t complete the thought before someone interrupted.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Penelope promised. “And you seem like you’d be a very neutral judge.”

“Not to mention,” Tara added, “You’re a pretty blank slate since you haven’t really kissed anyone.”

“Don’t worry though, we’ll show you a good time,” Derek assured with a wink.

Heads nodded. You were a bit worried that there would be some hurt feelings by the end of this, but they were all adults, and the appeal to kiss all of them, along with their eager faces, became enough to convince you to say yes.

“Yes!” Derek exclaimed. He looked pointedly at Emily, “It is so on.”

She just rolled her eyes. “Pen, do you have a blindfold?”

“A what?” you asked.

“Well we can’t have you getting biased on us. This has to be strictly about kissing.” Hearing her explain it with such reason hampered your growing nerves a bit. Like you’d said, you hadn’t kissed very many people and you were worried how much better they were going to be at it than you.

You reminded yourself that this was more about them than you, and tried to use that to calm yourself down. You were about to be kissed by some of the most attractive people you’d met. This was definitely not a bad place to be.

While Penelope rummaged through her belongings to get a makeshift blindfold, Luke convinced Spencer to join and JJ decided to participate.

Pretty soon, they had you seated in a chair, another one across from you, waiting for whoever was going to go first, while Emily explained some ground rules. “We are going to go in rounds. We will each kiss her and then after every round, Y/N will eliminate one of us based on the number in the round we kissed her so she doesn’t know who it is. No touching. You can’t use your hands in any way, this has to purely be about the kiss. And kiss however you normally would, no matter what that means for you.”

“No hands?” Spencer questioned. You were still surprised that he’d agreed to join, let alone ask a question like that. Luke gave him an odd look from behind while Emily confirmed the rule.

“Your hands might give away who you are, and again, this is just about the kiss.”

“Alright, alright, let’s just get started,” Derek complained, as Penelope tied the blindfold behind your head.

Now that you couldn’t see, you relied on your hearing to figure out what was happening. You heard some shuffling and disgruntled whispering, then you heard the chair across from you slide across the floor toward you. You waited anxiously as the person leaned in and pressed their lips to yours.

Their lips were plush and soft, but the kiss seemed a little too forced. It was a bit excited and you could feel their smile as they started pulling away. It was a pretty good kiss, definitely better than your previous two, despite the fact that it only lasted a few seconds. You couldn’t help but try and guess who it was, thinking it was either Penelope or Tara.

The next person who sat down completely blew the person before them out of the water. It was a much longer kiss and the person even swiped their tongue across your bottom lip for entry. You weren’t really thinking as you gave them access, the heat in your body starting to rise. You just hoped that your face wasn’t giving any of that heat away, so you were almost grateful that the person pulled away.

There was a bout of silence, which made you feel a little awkward, but soon enough, you heard the cushion squish down across from you. Their knee knocked yours, as you assumed they crossed their legs. Being a profiler, you were very used to picking up on body language with your eyes, making it kind of fun to try and pick up those same behavioral cues with all of your other senses. This person, you could tell, was very hesitant. You couldn’t say you were surprised when the person really only pecked you on the lips.

Number four in the line up started out pretty good, but you felt them start shaking or something halfway through. You quickly realized that they were laughing and you pulled back. You couldn’t help but smile when you asked, “Why are you laughing?”

Up until then, they had laughed pretty silently, but once you called them out, they just full out chuckled. “I’m sorry!” Tara unapologetically said through more laughs. “I couldn’t help it. I blame Luke.”

You laughed with her as you playfully shook your head. “You were doing so well up until then!”

“I know!” she agreed.

“I guess this means you’re out?” you half questioned.

Tara gave an over dramatic sigh, but you could hear the smile in her voice as she stated, “I guess so.” As she walked away, Luke gave a small ‘ow,’ and you assumed she’d hit him. You wondered what about this was Luke’s fault? Had he said something to her?

Either way, someone took her spot across from you. They wasted no time leaning in and putting their lips on yours. The kiss started out slow and gentle, like they were easing you into it. But gradually, as you both became more used to the other, it picked up pace, your mouths starting to move in sync. It felt like all of their energy was focused on you and exploring your mouth with their tongue. It was by far the most passionate kiss you’d experienced, and you tried to hide the pout from your face as they pulled back, chasing their lips for only a second before remembering there was an audience, and a competition.

Person number six was … good. You couldn’t really describe it. They used, what now seemed to you to be, a medium amount of tongue, for a medium amount of time. It was a good kiss, you weren’t saying it wasn’t, it just didn’t have any quirk or something unique that stood out. It was just … good. You knew Tara was out, so you tried to guess who that person could be. You thought maybe JJ, or possibly Luke, but you couldn’t be sure.

The final person who kissed you was intense. They had plump, captivating lips, but the way they kissed verged on overwhelming. They were also a little sloppy in their movements, and it was like you could tell they weren’t fully invested. Distracted, maybe? Again, not bad, but nothing like some of the other kissers.

The air was hot and heavy as Emily spoke up. “Okay, we’ve all gone. You know Tara is out, she was number four, so who else from this round would you eliminate?”

You pretended to think about it, even though it actually wasn’t that hard to pick. “I think it was person number three.” The person who just sort of pecked me, you thought, but didn’t say.

The players were now down to five, and they went in the same order as they had before, minus person number three, who you guessed was Spencer, and Tara.

This round made you even more confused about who was who than the round before. The excited one you guessed was either Luke or Penelope, the intimate one you thought was Derek, the passionate one you thought was either Luke or Emily, the average one you thought was JJ, and the sloppy, intense one you had no idea about.

By the end of that round, you eliminated person number one, the overly excited, verging on too hard kisser.

The next round was a no brainer. The intimate kisser, Derek you thought, upped his game. He kissed you for longer, used a bit more tongue, but was still somehow gentle. If you thought he’d upped his game, you weren’t prepared for person number two. They also upped their game, keeping your mouths molded together for longer than before, something you were more than happy about. You couldn’t quite place exactly what it was about their kiss, maybe that it seemed so perfectly balanced, incorporated the perfect amount of everything, or something else, but they were absolutely magnetic. It sent electric waves through your body, making you feel a little tingly. You felt sort of bad for the average kisser, most likely JJ, because they had to follow that up. And finally the sloppy kisser, who you still couldn’t place. They didn’t up their game at all. If anything, they felt more distracted by the minute, and pulled away earlier than the rest.

“Person number four,” you stated when Tara asked who was getting eliminated.

It was now down to three; the intimate kisser, you predicted Derek, the passionate kisser, either Luke or Emily, and the average kisser, probably JJ.

There was some shuffling, a faint whispering, a small ‘ow,’ and then Tara spoke up again. “Now that there are only three left, as long as you are okay with it, they want to use their hands.”

You tried to downplay the excitement you were feeling with this new rule, but you were sure their trained ears could hear it in the way you said, “Yes, that’s good with me.”

The seat across from you suddenly became occupied, but before anything could happen, Tara quickly jumped in. “Wait. Y/N, you can’t use your hands.” When you pouted a little, she explained, “Well if you did, you’d definitely know who is who, so…”

You sighed, but agreed, waiting in anticipation for the person across from you to touch you.

It started soft, their long fingers brushing over your cheeks as they leaned in. Soon enough, though, the entirety of their hands were firmly cupping your face and pulling you ridiculously close, close enough to feel some of their body heat. It was intimate, and again made you feel like the most important person to whoever those lips and hands belonged to. You rubbed your thumb into your palm, wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch them, but you knew you couldn’t. Your sole focus was on them, them on you, and you had to say it was one of the best kisses of the night.

That person made you feel like the most important person in the world, but the next person kissed you like you were the only person in the world. They started out by tucking your hair behind your ear, then slowly sliding their fingers back into the loose strands. As they started to kiss you, they moved their other hand behind your head, cradling the back of your neck. The person before them had captured your focus, but this person erased any thoughts your mind was capable of forming. You couldn’t think about anything other than the way their tongue moved against yours, and the shiver they sent down your spine as one of their hands traveled the length of it, coming to rest just above your hip, strong, confident fingers pulling you closer. It was a moment you never wanted to end, and one that left you in a cold shock when it eventually did.

You almost didn’t even want the last person to kiss you because of how you knew it would never come close to what you’d just experienced, but a competition was a competition. The third person kissed you similarly to how they’d done before, good but nothing special, their hands resting comfortably on your hips.

When it was all over, you asked, “Can I take off the blindfold now? I know who the winner is.”

“Sure, but announce who first,” Tara suggested.

“Okay,” you agreed. “The third person got third, the first person got second, and the second person was the winner. Can I take the blindfold off now?” you asked again. You were eager to find out who was who. When you didn’t get an immediate response warning you not to, you stood up and quickly ripped it off to quite the amusing sight. Spencer looked as bright as a cherry, Penelope looked shocked but proud, Tara was smirking, Luke’s eyes were the size of beach balls, JJ looked indifferent, Emily was smirking, and Derek looked like he’d just been shot. “So are you going to tell me who was who?”

Without answering, Emily took two large strides toward you and placed her lips back on yours. One of her hands slid back into your hair while the other rested above your waist, and you smiled into the kiss. Of course it was you, you thought. When she pulled away, you were both smiling like idiots, and she gave you a single eyebrow raise as you both turned to look at Derek.

“I got third?” he asked, still in a state of bewilderment.

“What?” you asked, just as shocked as he was. “I thought you got second.”

Emily snorted. “You thought Spencer was Derek?”

What?! You spun to face Spencer, the person you were sure got out the first round, and he was still blushing like he’d been out in the sun for far too long. “You took second?” He nodded nervously. You beamed at him, causing him to return a shy smile, then look down at his fiddling hands. “You’re a really good kisser,” you complimented.

Derek repeated, “I took third? Emily, I guess I kinda get,” she rolled her eyes at that, “but Pretty Boy?”

You shrugged, and Luke jumped in, though not nearly as harsh as Derek had been. “Yeah, I took fourth, but Spencer got second?”

You offered him a cheeky smile, remembering how distracted he felt while kissing you, and the not-so-subtle glances he constantly made at Spencer all the time. You took the opportunity to encourage whatever was going on there. “He did. Like I said, he’s a good kisser. Very intimate, like I was the only one on his mind. You should try kissing him sometime. Might help you feel less distracted.” You winked and Spencer looked like he wanted to evaporate. Luke, on the other hand, was just staring at Spencer, and you could see the gears spinning in his head. He finally mumbled a ‘what the hell’ before pulling Spencer to him by the back of his neck. Spencer seemed immediately surprised, but recovered quite quickly, no hesitation to his movements after the initial shock. They kissed each other probably exactly how they’d just kissed you, Spencer’s hands cupping Luke’s face, Luke’s hands resting on the back of Spencer’s neck and lower back. Although, you’d have to say that Luke looked a bit more focused than he’d been with you. You laughed while some of the other members hooted. This was something that’d been a long time coming.

When they pulled away, Luke nodded. “Y/N, I definitely agree with you.”

Spencer smiled, and playfully nudged Luke as he said, “Y/N, I also agree with you.”

“Hey!” Luke exclaimed, but he was smiling the brightest he had in a while.

Derek was still a mess, not enjoying the moment as much as he usually would’ve, and asked, “What did I do wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you assured, “You’re a good kisser, but there’s just nothing too special about it. It’s kinda just…”

Emily and Derek looked at you expectantly before Emily got it. “Wait. Are you calling him average?”

She looked way too excited for the occasion, but she was right. He was just kinda average. You nonchalantly admitted, “I guess.”

Derek let his hands fall to his sides with a slap, his mouth still hanging open. Emily’s lips curled up into a sly smile as she placed a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “It’s okay. Not everyone can be as good as me.” He shrugged her hand off his shoulder, and she held out her hand. Derek reached into his back pocket producing his wallet, and grudgingly slapped a crumpled $20 into her open palm. You gawked at them, not realizing that they’d placed a bet on their skills.

Emily returned to your side, closer than she’d really ever stood to you before, and gave you a smile that seemed on the shyer side for her, biting her lip as she peered at you through her lashes. You mirrored her shy smile, pressing your lips together as heat quickly spread to your cheeks. You turned back to the rest of the conversation that demanded your attention, people wanting to know why you eliminated them. But you couldn’t help glancing over at Emily every now and then, and couldn’t hide your joy when you saw that she was gazing back.

Who knows? Maybe that night was going to be the start of two great relationships in the BAU.

@90spumkin

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oneoftheprettynerds · 4 years ago

Text

Fixed: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 4 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series.

Chapter 3: Love So Soft

Main Masterlist

A/N: It’s shorter than my usual updates but I’m busy so sorry for the delay. My final exam dates have come and all I can do is pray right now lol. Please pray for me if you can, this sis is out here writing fanfics for yall instead of studying so, haha. ANyways, enjoy babies! Shit happens in this chapter.

Warning: Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, a mild mental breakdown, Cheap Tricks.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can’t ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can’t get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Word count: 5K

Chapter 4: Fixed

You didn’t sleep that night. Or the next few. Your hands shook every time you got a flashback and even though you were numb to emotions that entire day, tears threatened to spill whenever your mind took to you to that overpriced kitchen again.

Now that he had gone to a dangerous and unnerved assaulter from a Dad trying to take care of his daughter, your mind wouldn’t put anything past him. You knew that in the back of your mind that he was a mobster and your ‘friendship’ was alarming to say the least, but now there was no denying his resources and power and the very obvious threat to your life lingering in the air.

At least before you had the luxury to be oblivious and ignorant, not anymore though. Steve felt even more unhinged and liberal now, even messaging you daily, greeting texts that you obviously ignored. He knew you both were aware that you never handed him your number and he felt no need to hide his pursuit.

You read most of the messages, not bothering with a single reply though. You tried to block him but somehow your phone would still receive messages from his number, even though his contact would always peek back at you from the otherwise empty blacklist.

As if his torment wasn’t ample, another message thread from a different number would forward you alarming images, photos of Grace in her daycare, on a class trip to the park and even her playing in your backyard. You had no doubt that this was another game of his to show you his resources.

You skipped daycare for a few days, your mental health worse than it was after the carnival attack, because now you had a personal tormentor and you cursed yourself for falling into this mess. At times, you believed it wasn’t your fault really, you just helped a kid and this situation spiraled itself but what would pointing fingers now get you? The harsh truth was you were in a calamitous situation now and every step from now on had to be thought out.

So, you let Grace attend her daycare and acted if nothing was amiss or altered, after the few initial breakdown days of course, kept going to your job and earning the bread. You considered your options, you really wanted to go to the cops or a higher fair power but those were few these days, almost non existent in your city. You also vaguely recalled meeting three of the Captains of the PD at Sarah’s birthday, all smiley and doe eyed for Steve. You knew they wouldn’t help, fucking kiss-asses.

Maybe you would have to move somewhere else, perhaps to your hometown, at least till things cooled down or better yet were forgotten? But that trail was very predictable and you didn’t want your parents in this mess.

You also came to know that Steve had inserted himself in the other spheres of your life. You were sure your location was always being sent to him, the knowledge a courtesy of the black car following you while you travelled to home at some late day’s end.

Aiden told you whereabouts were easy to track, when you inquired ambiguously. Another instance was when you went to the bank to deposit cash for your debit card, you came face to face with an enormous amount already there. Somehow, the limit on your credit card was also extended. How, you knew. The clerk told you about an email you must have gotten in regards to it, you dismissed that justification away and told them to not accept the cash. To sum the discussion, they weren’t helpful and had no policy against anonymous donors.

Aiden, your trusted coworker cum pal, sensed the shift in your aura and fidgety form very easily, pestering you with questions and you decided to turn to him, stressed and tired and ready to do something. His questioning eyebrows made you confess vaguely but you refused to tell him the extent of it. Just that his prediction came true and you needed help. Let’s just say, Aiden was a good man.

With time, Steve’s ‘affectionate’ messages became deranged, and you found it harder to act nonchalant in your daily life. You were thankful he didn’t come to visit you, possibly occupied with the rumored war between the mobs. You just prayed for a few more days of ignorance, just enough time to think and do something.

“What do you mean someone collected her?!” You had a hard time controlling your voice, you were about to burst, in tears or with anger, you didn’t know.

“The man was verified in the emergency contacts and we got a letter signed and approved by you to skip the day an hour into the first activity.”

“A man? Emergen-, wait no! What fucking approved letter?”

You had three emergency contacts, your mom in another state, Aiden, and one of the other kid’s mom you had grown close to. Aiden was with you at work all day, so did someone disguise themselves as him? And what was the deal with the letter signed by you? You surely didn’t remember writing and authorizing one.

The boy, Pietro, who had been the receptionist for as long as you could remember, shuffled through the chaotic piles of paper and presented a letter to you, and your blood froze as your eyes skimmed the font.

Your beautiful cursive stared right back at you and you knew that no one would ever be able to distinguish between this penmanship and the one in the pocketbook in your clutch. No one but you. Even though you knew you had not written it, the slightly different ‘f’ and ‘g’ told you everything.

Your signature at the bottom though, was done quite perfectly and that made you even more scared.

“I did-, I didn’t write this! What the-” Your widened eyes met Pietro’s from above the paper but all he offered you was a meek smile. Your hands shook with rage and for the first time in your life, you had the urge to slap someone really bad.

“Maybe your family had an emergency to take he-”

“No, you don’t get it!” You stopped yourself from getting frantic, willing yourself to take deep breaths and think rationally. Today of all days, things had to mess up.

He didn’t know you had no family in this city, that you had a mobster after you or the subtle threats that his hired spy sent to you.

Was going to the police an option? Aiden already told you that the cops were as good as Steve’s men. But this was about your missing kid! You’d never forgive yourself if something happened to her. And you were giving Steve way too much credit, what if he wasn’t behind this all? Come to think of it, what if the other number wasn’t his?

Relax yourself! Thinking of disturbing theories wouldn’t help anyone. You thought you should go to the cops, just in case. No mentioning of Steve, just a woman with a ‘missing child’ report.

‘Missing Child’ left an acrid taste behind and you were too close to a breakdown, but your whole journey of single-parenthood taught you to kick vulnerability aside, well most of the times.

You turned and were about to leave, but Pietro stopped you. “If you are going to the cops Ma’am, they require 8 hours of inactivity or disappearance time for kids under 5.”

Well look who just read your mind.

You huffed and kept the tears at bay, your mind thinking of what to do then? Grace was obviously taken-

“How could you let a toddler leave without informing the parents?” You knew your anger was channeling out at the wrong man but didn’t he all but hand Grace to the stranger?

You beat him answering and inquired, “What did the man look like? Do you have any footage? Anything?” The wrinkles in your forehead and stress creases on your face paired with the eyebags betrayed your age surely. You were sure you had aged more this week than an entire decade, juggling your normal life with the hovering threat.

“You shouldn’t be this worried Ma’am.”

The fucking audacity.

“Your daughter recognized him, she all but ran to him and this other little girl he came with. You should maybe ask your parent-friends around? A blonde family perhaps?”

As all the emotions drained from your face and terror took over, the young lad in front of you looked smug. You wondered as if you imagined the faintest of smirks on his face.

You crumpled the letter in your hands, seething with rage as you stepped in your car. Oh, you were mad, more wrathful than ever. You could take any hits on you, any threat but not on Grace, never on her.

You were stupid, you had already decided you wouldn’t put anything past him but unknowingly, you did put this past him. You thought this man had a shred of decency to not use your kid in this adult war, being a parent himself and all but what a surprise! You were wrong.

You drove to your home, your thoughts a mix of trepidation, anxiety and fury. You were scared of him and his reach and resources but if he put Grace in any type of danger; whether to teach you a lesson or use her as bait or both, there’d be consequences.

Lord knows you killed a man a month ago Grace was threatened.

You had one thing to do before contacting Steve about Grace but you never got to do it because unexpectedly the bastard was in your home. In your home.

The black sports car outside was a huge giveaway but your suspicions were confirmed when you opened the door with your house key. The banter and giggles from inside alarmed yet calmed you; the dread of confrontation and the assurance of Grace’s safety reigned your mind.

As the door opened painfully slow like a horror movie, the sight that met your eyes made you sick with a feeling of failure. It wasn’t gore or blood or grunge, it was Steve bouncing Grace in the air and catching her while Sarah twirled around in the living room.

This man was craftier than you thought, every action of his was calculated, each a refined step. You had been so preoccupied to avoid direct encounters with him in your little family’s life that you didn’t think he had other ways. He was always looming around with Sarah and as Grace began to trust Sarah, she consequently began to trust her blonde guardian too.

As you slammed the door behind you, Steve’s eyes snapped to yours and his smirk made you want to punch him so hard. The smugness on his face while he let Grace down without breaking eye contact told you he had no regret, no remorse. In fact, he was loving every second of this cat and mouse chase between you two.

You were a millimeter close to losing your shit, the only check being the kids in the room. But you were mad and he was going to know it.

“What the hell, Steve? Messing with my kid?” You threw your clutch onto the couch, Steve haughty by the reception of his sent message but still holding back because of the kids. He called Wanda and you didn’t really notice where she came from but you did register Steve asking to take the girls to the park for a ‘private discussion’.

As Grace passed by you, you grabbed her arm lightly, making her look at you with doe eyes resembling yours. You gave her a smile trying to ease her, but you knew she was smart enough to sense the change in the atmosphere.

Apparently, the whining Sarah wasn’t.

You looked back to Steve, your hold still on Grace and continued with a frown and raised eyebrows, “She isn’t going anywhere, not out of my sight and obviously not with you or your goons.”

Wanda had the audacity to look offended and you scoffed at her, eyes staring Steve’s down.

“Honey, I don’t think the kids should hear what I think you have to say right now.” He said nodding to Wanda to take Grace.

“You must be deranged to think I trust Grace near anyone even remotely related to you! Take your people and get out.” You held your hand up to stop Wanda and pointed towards the door with the most menacing glare you could form.

Grace looked incomprehensibly between you two, concern and confusion on her face. That might have been the first time such a tone was used in your household. The grumbling Sarah was close to throwing a tantrum, irritated by the change in the playful air or the lack of attention to her, you didn’t know. She was hanging on Wanda’s forearm, her feet slipping on your printed rug. Wanda was trying to not look hurt still by your previous statement, distracting herself by the blonde kid and you were baffled by her obliviousness to all this.

Steve, the beefy blonde Lucifer, was furious and seething. His white knuckles and ticking jaw were the most obvious giveaways, the fingers just itching to beat the shit out of someone no doubt.

Was he imagining striking you into compliance into his weird playhouse game complex? You wouldn’t be surprised given the extent of his attempt to ‘win’ you over.

The ‘get out’ tone and blatant disrespect was a bruise to his ego for sure, and by you, a middle-class woman nonetheless was a worse injury. Steve was the deadly boss to armored men in the vicinity, the kids’ father figure, according to him, and Wanda’s stern yet kind employer.

People had been killed for less and there you were, standing in all your glory, being the only person alive to reject Steve Rogers and now, the only to raise your voice at him.

You almost scoffed at his impudence to look offended, what did he expect? For you to submit to him after the stunt he pulled? His reach was scary he proved today and that any future with him in your life in any way, was a fearsome possibility to entertain but you’d be damned if you went down without a fight.

“You can’t make me leave; we both know. You don’t have the physical edge nor the mental one. I have no problem drawing out G-U-N-S in front of the kids or to throw the warnings around, although I would prefer not to.”

Your free hand itched to slap him, like how his did minutes ago. It wasn’t a mankind problem about men thinking they were entitled to everything; it was a Steve Rogers’s problem. Of course, with him consent didn’t matter. If he had a ‘housewife, kids and fences’ fixation, he’d make it come true.

“Do you even listen to what I say? Or your own words even? Please, go ahead! Traumatise my kid and also yours in your wooing process! Why are you so obsessed? Leave us alone, you freak! I just ignored few messages!” You had a hard time maintaining your cool, if there was any left. You were sure you were scaring Grace and no matter what happened next, you knew she was already traumatized by this entire ordeal already. You were so sorry, so, so, so sorry to your poor baby caught in this mess.

You knew, no, you hoped, he wouldn’t pull out the gun, his actions at the carnival a proof, you remembered how he hid his gun on finding Sarah. That threat was empty but the next one wasn’t, his words making you freeze in your spot.

“I think you keep on misunderstanding me, sweetheart. I don’t make empty promises,”

Posh word for threats.

“For starters, maybe I should pay my future in-laws a visit in their blue duplex. They might need help with the vast garden they have, it is the season for ‘violets’, isn’t it?”

As you froze with your parents being brought up, he also cooled, albeit differently, smirking once again gaining the upper hand, not that he lost it if you were being honest.

“Isn’t threatening my kid enough for you, Steve?” You hated how your loud voice almost broke, your anger slowly subsiding into helplessness and you hated that. You hated his guts, his entitlement, his claim; everything about him.

“You still don’t see it, do you? Our family of four is the most important thing to me right now and I’m not above doing anything to save it.”

“There is no family of four Steve! I keep explaining and you keep coming back to square one with all this bullshit!” The curse word did tick Steve off but he would correct that later, when bigger things weren’t at ploy.

“Your ignorance makes me a little mad sometimes sweetheart and that is why I have to do all I do. You haven’t realized we need each other yet, but I’m staying until you do and even after that, I promise. You know how much it pissed me off to see your tickets and the packed suitcases after I’ve been nothing but nice? I was so generous to spoil you with my riches but instead I find that in your finances.”

This fucker knew. Of course, he did!

You were wondering in the back of your head what had prompted this visit with so many threats and warnings and anguish. He was pissed even before you ‘acted out’, he tracked the tickets and the plan and that meant he even tracked-

“You have so much to learn, but luckily you interact with quite a few people. I am most tempted to start out with this Aiden guy, trying to be the hero and giving you all the ideas. Maybe I should visit him?” Steve wondered out loud, and you flinched at his suggestion, hating how you were trapped by this man.

You couldn’t live with yourself if anyone got hurt because of you, be it your parents or Aiden or any other possibility Steve would come up with. Of course, Grace was your peak priority but you doubted he would hurt her as he threatened to harm them.

“Steve, please.” The fire was almost out, your hands trembling, Grace worried and Steve smug.

“Let the kids go and I think we can come to a conclusion.”

“Steve this needs to stop.” You said, your breaths heavy and helplessness clawing away at you.

“I won’t repeat myself.” He voiced out with a threatening edge, gesturing to Grace and Wanda, clearly telling you to first get the kids out.

For a deranged fucktard, he sure cared about the kids a lot.

You loosened your hold on Grace, patting her arm softly and nudged her to Wanda. Wanda received her little hand and enticed the kids with the promise of ice-cream. Sarah clapped her hands and as the trio left, Grace did look over her shoulders at you in concern and for permission, majorly in concern though. You nodded and waved, a tear dropping as soon as the door clicked shut.

You were still staring at the door, not wanting to meet Steve’s stormy blue orbs when he began, “Today was a slip up that I won’t tolerate again. Neither the cursing nor the dramatics.”

We aren’t in a fucking play, what the fuck is he labelling as dramatics?

Your eyes slowly flickered to his, and you had a hard time not letting the tears escape except the one traitorous one earlier. The fatigue, the worry of Grace’s disappearance, the threats to your friends and family were all catching up to you. It took all in you to stay strong and not fall down right now.

“Steve this isn’t funny anymore. It’s sick and you know it! I just said no! Was that so inexcusable that you had to follow up with this? You have violated me for that, broken into my home and now kidnapped my daughter! At what extent will you stop?” You broke down finally, arms a flailing mess as fat tears rolled down. Nothing scared more than the helplessness this moment. He won and he knew it. The carnival incident was nothing in comparison to this. The only good thing you could hope in all this was a safe Grace but that too only if you complied, which seemed like what you would do now given your attempts at fighting back and scampering have failed laughably.

“Gosh, I forgot how theatrical women are. You are smart darling; you know what I want from day one, just a happy family. Nothing that horrendous has happened and especially not as badly as put it. I’m just looking out for you and me in the long run.” Steve slowly treaded towards you, his hand extended to pat your arm comfortingly but you involuntarily flinched at contact and stepped back. Steve clearly didn’t like that as he caught your arm in a bruising grip and jerked you towards him. Manhandling you as your wet hands rushed to ease his grip was not a tough task for Steve, a surprise to none.

“Stop trembling like I’ve actually done something to harm you!”

Steve clearly didn’t know how to comfort women and it showed.

You stopped with the cowering away, even though it disgusted you to be this much in close proximity with your assaulter. He clearly had anger issues and no clue how to solve them. You needed to steer the conversation right and get him out. You could see your hands visibly shake as you put them on his chest, just to create some distance and in a way of surrendering to not fight. The tears slowed but you don’t think they stopped; it was hard to tell with a million other things on your mind.

As your eyes made contact, Steve loosened his grip, clearly a bit satisfied by your submission, as he began counting to help you breathe. As much as you hated to admit, it helped you and you got a flashback to the time when you freaked out on him about Grace at that extravagant dinner date. That was a sweet gesture then, not so sweet now. Funny how drastically things change with time.

It wasn’t so much Steve’s help as it was your own mind telling you to be fucking smart about the whole ordeal right now.

“Good. Better. Now let’s talk. Why were you planning to run away? I’ve been busy and coming home to find out that wasn’t joyful, you know.” His smile suggested a better mood than before but his voice, his husky voice always had this daring edge that almost challenged you to defy him but at the same time warned you of unpleasant consequences if you did.

“Steve, I’m scared.” You spoke with utmost honesty. “The part of the world you associate yourself with scares me. You can’t blame me for not wanting that life for Grace, I mean you have a kid of your own. Wasn’t the carnival attack specifically on Sarah?”

The reasoning was right but you knew you triggered him the moment his smile evaporated. He either felt insulted as a parent or disrespected in his profession or probably both.

He was fighting his inner demons already and you pointing it out was a slap to his face, a hit he didn’t want to take.

“That was a slip up, I admit. Never again. I’m only human, okay?” He convinced himself and you, his grip tightening a bit again.

Oh no, not the right direction to take.

You reckoned he still had nightmares about it like you, he really did love Sarah a lot, all things aside.

“Besides, I am looking out for you! Out for you and Grace and Sarah. I remember my promise of never putting either of them in harm’s way ever again.”

You definitely didn’t trust his security or his people because what sort of a mobster let his daughter get targeted and possibly abducted? You definitely didn’t know the whole story or if it was just a bad day but he wasn’t a person that deserved some slack. Despite all this, you knew what all he held above you, above a common man. He might not be ‘Kingpin’ skilled but a threat to you nonetheless.

Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “Is that what you call following me around, huh?” which you immediately regretted.

“Trust the process, baby. Everything is just to protect you.”

Is that what he called stalking even Grace around and twistedly enough, sending you proof of that? The anonymous thread of photos was another nightmare of yours, thanks to him. The last being a candid photo inside Grace’s room, her sleeping in her bed this morning and that’s when you decided you needed to get out. Of course, that didn’t go as planned.

“How am I supposed to do that when you have cameras in my house?!” You scoffed and he reeled back at the accusation, having the nerve to look impressed at being uncovered and caught red-handed.

“Oh my fucking God, it was you! You sick pervert!” You jumped out of his grip, your eyes wide and horrified. “I wasn’t aware of what to make of it but of course, it was you! Who else would be sick enough to do that?” You let out a humorless chuckle. You always put things past him even when you keep telling yourself you shouldn’t. When will you ever learn huh?

You were full on panicking yet again, this man was an assaulter, a stalker and a creep too. It would have made a good dark, psychological thriller for you to watch if you weren’t the protagonist about to suffer his obsession.

He reached out to steady you again, but you whipped and stumbled back, realizing too late that you elbowed Steve’s nose so bad that there was a crunch. That, right there, was the look a man real-fucking-furious on Steve’s face and now you could see the feared mobster, the man who was personally terrorizing you under the beautiful, Greek God façade.

Steve reacted so fast even with an injury that in a split second, your view of his face turned into a view of his crotch.

“You do realize that there are others ways for me to teach you obedience? I think it’s fucking time you show me your gratitude for my care and attention and apologize for your misconduct and unkind response.” Steve spoke with a hoarse voice, a voice running out of patience and just about done with defiance.

His hand fisted your hair, maintaining eye contact while he nodded between you and his crotch. You knew what he wanted, what he was expecting as ‘thanks’.

“Steve, please no, you don’t-”

His other hand grabbed your jaw, stopping you from speaking as he warned, “I think you have done just enough talking for today, so why don’t you put that tongue to a better use and show me how sorry you are. Better make it convincing because I’d hate to pay one of your friends a visit and then bitch about a nasty blowjob.” He smirked at the end of his monologue, eyes shining with triumph and amusement.

You wouldn’t let him harm anyone else, you couldn’t. You and your daughter were already knee-deep in a pit and at this point, it’d just be cruel to drag someone else in. With shaky hands opening his pants, you just hoped you could get Grace out before you eventually were buried in it.

“Now that’s a good girl. Submissive is a sexy look on you.” His hands patted your hair, playing with your tresses while yours pulled his pants and then briefs down.

His member jerked out, almost slapping you in the face as you recoiled at his insolence to get hard and erect at your torment. Your disdain must have shown which he took as admiration and derision to take his affluent cock in.

“No need to get shy, I have faith you’ll be able take it just as well in your pretty pussy as you will right now. Open up-”

“Steve, I beg you-”

Just as you had cut him off, he interrupted your pleading. Your gag reflex was probably the most efficient in the world but that turned this narcissist on. It had been years since you had done it, never with a man as beefy as Steve.

His taste was salty and if you had to put it into better words, it was the like overpriced sea salt flakes that you never bought. High and pricey and for the entitled.

Your hands clutched at his thighs as you blacked out multiple times; your jaw aching, uvula swaying and tears escaping. Him forcing himself on you brough a new sense of vulnerability as your body trembled. Steve relished like a sadist, practically rutting into you all by himself as you just sat there with your jaw unnaturally open.

His obscene moans and groans were crass and nauseating and you just prayed for this to be over soon and for no one to walk in on this, especially your kid.

It seemed like it would never end, your body dehydrating with all the spit it produced, the drool dribbling and landing just beside your knees on your printed rug. You would have to throw that out.

The tears stooped after some point, the sobbing an unnecessary action that just tired you out more on this eventful day. You moved your tongue around to prevent your teeth from scratching him when he shifted angles. If this was what he did on slightly mad, you didn’t want to find what he did for a more serious punishment.

Apparently, that action was something that turned him on even more, his breath hitching as neared closure. In broken whispers he demanded that again and you complied, wanting to get done with it.

He growled in the moment of his release and you tried to lean back but his grip didn’t relent. “Swallow.” His grainy, exasperated voice said out loud and you knew better than to defy.

He released you and you fell on to the rug, hip bruising by knocking into some furniture and tears coming back again after being hydrated by his seed. He packed himself, his smile smug and content as his expressions truly resembled ecstasy being personified.

“You be a good fiancée from now on and maybe you’ll have all your friends alive and present at our wedding. No cheeky business from now on, got it?” Steve hummed then and strutted out, not even bothering to listen to your reply.

As soon as the door slammed, your eyes closed and your demons danced again.

There was no right direction to take when you were stuck in a loop.

651 notes · View notes

thatfanficstuff · 4 years ago

Text

Unexpected - Stucky x Reader

Pairing Grouping: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Warnings: Steamy fluff with a dash cupful of foul mouthed Reader and super soldier. Also liberal use of sugar and baby but no sugar babies.

A/N: short fluff is no 3300+ of very steamy fluff. I’m gonna go with 16+ on this one folks. Oh, and STUCKY!!!

***

They didn’t think anything of it at first. It was just little things after all. Things that hardly warranted their attention. It wasn’t until Tony mentioned it that they began to take notice.

“Hey, Capsicle, you and tin man been sneaking off to the store without telling anyone? You could at least ask if we needed anything? I’ve been out of blueberries for days,” Tony said one night as the team sat to watch a movie.

“What are you talking about, Stark?” Steve asked with a furrowed brow.

Tony gestured at the bag of gummy worms that you and Bucky were currently sharing. “Just that you two seem to be the only ones around here that never run out of your favorite goodies. You could have stocked up for everyone. That’s all I’m saying.” He shrugged his shoulders and waved a hand through the air as if it wasn’t important, though clearly it was if he’d brought it up.

You rolled your eyes. “Tony, you’re a billionaire. Pay someone to do your shopping and have it delivered, you big baby.”

The super soldiers on either side of you laughed and you settled more firmly into your seat between them. Tony started to say something else but Natasha smacked his arm. “Shut up. Movie’s starting.”

He grumbled which brought another smile to your face. He really was an overgrown kid sometimes. Really, you were just pleased that he’d shut the hell up. After all, if you’d wanted your crushes to know you were secretly taking care of them, you would have done it not so secretly. Liking both of them was awkward enough without them being aware of it, thank you very much.

Honestly, until that day, Steve had just assumed that Tony had someone that replenished the food in the kitchenette on their floor. True, they’d never seen anyone, but it wasn’t like it happened by magic. It was just over a week later when Steve glanced up from his drawing when Bucky walked into their living room. “Hey Buck, you didn’t do any cleaning did you?”

Bucky snorted. “There’s never anything to clean is there?”

Steve frowned. “Yeah, I noticed that to. I asked Stark if he had a service that did our floor. You know what he said?”

“I’m guessing he said no or we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Bucky answered as he sat across the table from his boyfriend.

“He asked if I wanted him to get someone in to help us out.”

Confusion caused Bucky’s brow to furrow as he leaned forward. “So, someone has been coming into our space, replacing our food and cleaning up after us and we have no idea who it is?”

“Looks like it.”

There was a stretch of silence before Bucky asked, “Why?”

***

It started when the boys were on a mission. You’d raided Buck’s candy stash for movie night and before you replaced it, you’d done an inventory and picked up everything else they were needing. It wasn’t like it took much more effort. And when you’d seen how happy they were when they arrived home to all their favorites, that was all the incentive you needed to keep doing it.

You made sure to refill their stash when they were on mission or out for training so they wouldn’t catch you. There was always the chance they’d return when you weren’t expecting it, but the odds were slim. After all, you made a living by sneaking around unseen, hence the name Shadow. The cleaning started when they were gone on a mission and you didn’t want them coming home to clutter and dust. You weren’t even sure that they noticed, but it made you happy to have something else you could do for them.

Steve and Bucky were currently on week three of a mission with Nat and Sam and you were sorting out the groceries you’d just bought while you tried to think of something special you could do for them.

“So, why do you do it exactly?” you heard from behind you, causing you to jump. The twins were in San Francisco until tomorrow so you should have had the floor to yourself.

You scowled when you found Tony standing behind you wearing his infamous smirk.

“Jumpy?”

Your cheeks heated as you turned back to the task at hand, hoping Tony wouldn’t notice at least half of your food was for the super soldiers. “Mind was just elsewhere. What’s up?”

“I was just wondering why you pamper the geriatric twins if you aren’t going to take credit for it?”

You froze briefly before finishing up and placing the boys’ food back into bags so you could carry it upstairs. Finally, you turned and crossed your arms over your chest as you leaned against the counter behind you. “I don’t suppose it would do me any good to deny it?”

He chuckled as he moved closer. “They asked me to look into it before they left. It was the complete lack of evidence that led me to you actually. Only one person I know can get around my system like that.”

“Shit.” You were a technomancer and were very skilled at making tech do what you wanted. Tony hadn’t been thrilled the first time you’d completely circumvented the tower’s security. Now he used you to test out new systems. Finally, you quit freaking out enough to meet his eyes. “Are you going to tell them?”

He tilted his head and frowned at you. “Why are you so dead set against them figuring this out? You know they won’t be anything other than grateful.”

“Because they’ll want to know why and I can’t tell them that.” Your voice was quiet but you knew he’d heard your answer.

“Well how about you tell me then, sparky?” he suggested.

You rolled your eyes at his stupid nickname as you sighed. He wasn’t the most trustworthy when it came to secrets but you were dying to tell someone. And honestly, he would probably be the least judgmental out of everyone. “You can’t tell anyone, Tony. I mean it.”

He rubbed his hands together and closed most of the distance between you. “My lips are sealed. You have my word.”

You arched a brow but chose not to comment. You closed your eyes not wanting to look at him as you made the confession. “I might possibly be just a little bit in love with them.” When you got no response you opened one eye to find Tony grinning at you as he rocked on his feet. You opened the other eye to give him a narrow-eyed look. “What?”

“I think you should tell them.”

“Not funny, Stark.”

“Wasn’t meant to be, sweetheart.” You just stared at him, saying nothing. After a few moments, he sighed. “Listen, as amusing as it might be to trick you into having that conversation with them and recording it to watch at my leisure later, I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“That little admission didn’t exactly help your cause any.”

He ran a hand down his face. “I can’t tell you that I know for sure how they’ll react, because I can’t. I also can’t tell you how many times I’ve caught them checking you out when they think no one’s watching. Or how many times they’ve argued about who got to sit beside you when there was only one seat left. Or the number of whispered conversations they have that fade away when you walk into the room. And while I have had many female friends over the years, I have never suggested any of them sit in my lap unless I was trying to take things beyond friendship.”

You frowned. “I sit in their laps all the time.”

His hands went out to the side as if to say ‘see?’.

Your frown deepened as you recalled something else. “Wait, didn’t you try to get me to sit in your lap when I was still new?”

Tony chuckled and turned around to walk off. “Only proving my point, Y/L/N,” he called over his shoulder.

It was barely five minutes after he left that you gathered the bags of food to take upstairs and put away. You weren’t certain you’d survive sitting around doing nothing and there was only so much training you could stand in a day. “Protocol five, J,” you said as you stepped onto the elevator. “Super soldiers’ floor, please.”

“Of course, Miss.” Protocol five would shut down all recording devices anywhere in your vicinity until you turned it off.

You made short work of putting the food away and glanced around. Things were fairly tidy though they could use a dust and a quick vacuum. A peek in both bedrooms had you wrinkling your nose. They’d had back-to-back missions before they’d left on the current one and obviously hadn’t had time to do laundry. While the boys normally slept together, they maintained their own spaces in case one of them was having a bad night or just needed some time to themselves.

Moving into Bucky’s space, you gathered up all the laundry and threw it out into the hallway. You also stripped the bedding and added it to the pile. You put a load in the washer before moving to Steve’s room. There was more laundry there as it was the space they shared the most often. You added to the pile already in the hallway before stripping those sheets as well.

After sorting the clothes into loads, you took about half of them down to your floor and started a load there as well before heading back upstairs. You opened windows in both bedrooms to let them air out as you put fresh sheets on the beds. You dusted and straightened and vacuumed only pausing as necessary to switch out the laundry.

By the time you finished all but the last loads of laundry, their rooms looked better than they had in months and they had clean sheets to crawl into when they got home. You’d cleaned the rest of the floor as well and were heading back to your floor to take care of the last of the clothes. You had to wait a bit for them to finish drying, but then once it was all folded and sorted, you loaded up the laundry basket to put it away. You were happy you’d gotten so much done.

Apparently ignoring your feelings made you productive, who knew? Most of the clothes in your basket were Buck’s so you headed to his room first. You reached for the handle, only to have the door open on its own. Your mouth dropped and the basket fell to your feet as you ran your gaze up a naked torso to see Bucky frowning at you. He was dressed in a pair of sweats and his hair was still wet from a shower. His gaze darted from you to the basket and back as a grin crept over his face. “Fuck,” you breathed out and took a step back. “I’m sorry. I-I need to go.”

He reached out and snagged your wrist before you got more than a step. “I don’t think so, sugar.” He tugged you gently back in his direction and lifted your chin with a finger since you seemed unable to look at him on your own. “Where do you think you’re going to escape to anyway, Y/N? We know where you live.”

“I was thinking of moving to Alaska. I hear it’s nice there this time of year.”

“You hate the cold,” he said with a laugh and looped an arm around your waist.

Your heart raced and you prayed that his stupid super soldier senses wouldn’t clue him in, but who were you kidding? You’d never be that lucky.

“Oh, Steve,” he called in a sing-song voice. “I have something for you.”

“Not now, Buck. I’m…” Steve’s voice trailed off as he stepped into the hall and saw you. His ears and cheeks turned a rather adorable shade of red and you couldn’t stop a giggle at the sight. “What’s this?” he asked looking between the two of you.

Bucky nudged the laundry basket into view with his foot. “I intercepted her on her way to put away the last of the laundry.”

Steve straightened immediately. “Oh, did you?”

And damned if his voice didn’t drop a whole octave when he said it. Now it was your turn to be embarrassed. You squirmed in Bucky’s hold but didn’t try to escape. There was no point. He chuckled behind you and passed you over to Steve when he held a hand out toward you. You licked your lips as you took it and let him lead you into the living room.

He sat on the couch and pulled you down onto his lap. Bucky sat right beside him and pulled your legs onto his lap. You cleared your throat. “I can sit by myself.”

“I’m sure you can, baby,” Steve assured. “But I’m happy with you in my lap. And you like to make me happy, don’t you, Y/N?”

Oh.

My.

God.

That was not fair. Not fucking fair at all.

Steve trailed a finger up your spine, chuckling when you shivered at his touch. His finger continued it’s journey up your neck then back along its previous path as he talked. “When Buck and I were kids, there wasn’t a lot of money to go around. Less so for me because of my meds. Our folks taking care of us meant putting food on the table and mending our clothes. Sometimes there might be enough for a dime novel or some sweets, but for the most part we took care of each other.”

Bucky kept rubbing little circles on your ankle with his thumb. “That hasn’t changed much over the last several decades. You know, except when I was trying to kill him. But then someone else started taking care of us. In a million little ways we didn’t always notice. Not right away anyway.”

“But then we did notice and we started making note of everything that made us feel cared for.” Steve’s hand flattened on your back and his fingers flexed slightly as he said, “Loved.”

“So, tell us, Y/N, why did you do it?” Bucky asked.

You shrugged and stared at your hands where they twisted together in your lap. “I stole your candy and needed to replace it so I picked up some other stuff. But then I saw how happy you were when you had your favorite snacks when you got home and that made me happy. The more I did, the happier and more relaxed you seemed so I kept doing it. I like it when you’re happy. Both of you.”

“That the only reason, baby? You like us happy?” Steve asked as he trailed that damned finger back up your spine.

You jumped out of his lap and stepped back until you were out of easy reach for either of them. They stared at you in surprise and you held out a hand to stop them when they started to stand. “No. You stay put. You two aren’t playing fair.”

“How’s that, doll?” Bucky asked, his blue eyes sparking with amusement.

“You with the touching and the sugar and the arm around the waist,” you said gesturing to Bucky before turning to his boyfriend. “And you with the baby and more touching and the deep voice. It’s not fair. It’s not.” You sucked in a breath. “My entire life I’ve been attracted to the unattainable guy. Every fucking time. But this time I really outdid myself because I fell in love with not just one, but two unattainable men and they’re dating each other. I mean fuck my life. Seriously. What is that? So yes, I did all of this because I love you. Both of you. And I’ll keep doing it for the same reason and it will always make me happy to see you happy. But at the end of the day, you two have each other and I don’t and that’s not fucking fair so stop. Just stop, okay?”

Steve stood first as if afraid to startle you. He stepped forward and swept his thumb across your cheek wiping away the tears you hadn’t been aware of. His hands settled on either side of your neck as he studied your eyes for the longest time. “You’ve got quite the fucking mouth on you, baby,” he said then tugged you forward and slammed his lips onto yours.

You hesitated for only a moment, a brief stretch of time and then you let yourself go. Your Steve was kissing you and it was nothing like you’d imagined. There was nothing soft or questioning about it. It was firm, sure, and altogether fucking fantastic. His hands moved to your thighs and lifted as his lips stayed glued to yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and as he turned, his lips slid from your mouth to travel the length of your neck. His open mouth kisses alternated with tiny nips that were sure to bruise and you rolled your hips against him in response. He hissed against your skin and you smiled.

A large hand grasped your chin and turned your head until another pair of lips slanted over yours. Bucky. His kiss was dark and rich and full of promises. He shifted his body so he supported your back as his hands found the hem of your shirt. Cool metal and warm flesh contrasted against your skin as he slid over your belly and up to caress your breasts. “Oh God.” You rolled your hips again, Steve pressed against your front and Bucky pressed against your ass.

“Fuck,” Steve said as his hands tightened on your waist in an effort to still your movements.

Bucky chuckled against the back of your neck and bit at the skin there, his bite firmer, more punishing than Steve’s. “What’s the matter, punk? She pushing you to the edge already?”

“Suck it, Barnes.”

“I intend to, Rogers.”

That had you grinning. This playful love they had between them was what you wanted. Was part of the reason you fell in love with both of them. Bucky’s gaze shifted to you and he mirrored your grin. “I love you, Buck.”

His grin widened. “You hear that, Stevie? She loves me. God, that’s sexy.” He kissed you soundly then pulled you from Steve’s arms to carry you bridal style to the bedroom. “I love you, too, sugar.”

That earned him another kiss. You put your hand against the door frame to stop him before he could carry you inside. This needed to be said before you were all in bed together. You turned to find Steve with a question in his eyes. “I love you, too, Steve.”

His smile was sweet, soft. “I know you do, baby.” He placed a hand on your cheek and gave you a soft kiss. “I love you, too. Have for awhile if I’m honest. We both have. Turns out we were both feeling guilty for loving someone else and it was the same girl. Never dreamed you’d actually be ours though.” You kissed him again and it only took a moment for it to take on a rougher edge.

Bucky turned you so he could carry you into the room, causing your lips to be pulled from Steve’s. You whimpered at the loss of contact and both men chuckled. “Don’t worry, baby, you’ll have more of us than you can handle in a moment.”

You squealed as Buck tossed you into the middle of their king sized bed. You propped yourself up on your elbows and bit your lip as you looked at the two men standing before you. “Promise, soldiers?”

“Oh, sweetheart, that’s a goddamn guarantee.”

#stucky x reader #stucky fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #stucky x you #poly fanfiction

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 5 years ago

Text

𝐷𝑎𝑑! 𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝐵𝑎𝑏𝑦 𝐼𝑠 𝐵𝑜𝑟𝑛

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

"Is this Kim Hongjoong's number?"

"This is him speaking. How can I help you?" He answered as he continued to scribble on the notepad.

"This is only to inform you, your wife went into labor and she's already-"

Hongjoong didn't even wait to hear the rest as he ran out the door and quickly hailed a cab to drive him to where you were. He was nervous, but more than anything, he was excited. Finally you two were going to meet your baby. Not able to contain his happiness, he of course called the other guys since he wanted them there to share in his joy.

Before the cab could fully stop, Hongjoong was already sprinting out of there and immediately asked the receptionist where you were located. As soon as he saw you, he went to your side and held your hand.

"I'm here love. I'm here. Everything is going to be fine." He lovingly assured you, placing tiny kisses on your palm every once in a while.

He still held your hand throughout the entire process, enduring the pain of you crushing his fingers, but he immediately forgot about it when he heard the soft wailing of your son. He only let go when the nurse waved him over because from the beginning, he stated his firm intention of cutting the umbilical cord. Although he was shaking from all the emotions he was feeling, he safely got through it and began tearing up as he held his son for the first time. Hongjoong sat down next to you so you could see the beautiful creation you brought into the world. Looking over at you, he pressed his nose against your temple, nuzzling you gently.

"You did a wonderful darling. Look at our son. He's absolutely precious."

He couldn't stop praising you for all the work you did, you were beyond amazing to him at this moment. Right then, the door opened and San poked his head in.

"Can we see the little minion now?"

You and Hongjoong chuckled as 7 more heads popped in and scattered around to look at their leader's baby and first ateez baby.

"Awww he's so cute!" Seonghwa cooed, feeling somewhat jealous.

"He's got his momma's eyes." Yunho pointed out.

"And his dad's height." Mingi couldn't help but tease Hongjoong.

"He'll grow ok?!" Hongjoong was about to start nagging, but the little baby began fussing slightly and he was quick to hush him.

"No no, it's ok. Daddy didn't mean to raise his voice."

You chuckled at Hongjoong. Your son was barely alive for 15 minutes and he already had his father wrapped around his tiny finger.

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

"Seonghwa.....I think my water broke..." You stood there rather calmly, one hand on your belly as you let your s/o know.

Unlike you though, Seonghwa began freaking out. He immediately went to the closet and grabbed the bag you two had already prepared for this specific moment. Seonghwa was running back and forth from the house to the car, then back in the house to leave things ready, all while you just stood there watching him. You were barely taking one step and Seonghwa immediately scooped you up to drive you to the hospital.

Even at the hospital, he was freaking out even though you two already had everything prepared for when the baby arrived. You were still pretty calm, until you actually went into labor. It was excruciatingly painful and you felt like you were going to die.

"Baby it's ok. You're doing fine, it'll all be over soon." Seonghwa encouraged you, feeling bad that you had to go through all this pain by yourself while all he could do was hold your hands and give you words of encouragement.

But it was all worth it. All that planning, freaking out, all that pain, you completely forgot about it when you held your baby girl in your arms. You were so overcome with emotions and could barely contain your tears.

"Seonghwa....it's our baby..." You sniffled as you caressed her tiny cheeks before looking over at him.

Seonghwa was just as overwhelmed as you. He was crying even more than you.

"I know sweetheart. She's so beautiful..." Not able to hold himself back, he tenderly kissed you before continuing:

"Just like her mommy." He giggled when he succeeded in making you blush.

You both agreed not to let anyone see her until you were fully recovered and also because you both wanted to bond with your daughter first, with no distractions. So it wasn't until 2 weeks later when you guys finally had the boys over to meet the baby. Seonghwa was proudly showing her off while he fed her her bottle of milk.

"Look at how fast she eats. She's such a glutton." He chuckled as he cooed at her.

Wooyoung, who was standing next to him, just watched him in amusement.

"You know..I never thought I'd say this, but parenthood really suits you Hyung." He patted the older member on the shoulder.

Seonghwa felt immensely happy hearing that. For so long he had wanted to start a family with you and now that he had it, his world was absolutely perfect, because you and now your daughter were in it. He couldn't ask for anything else....

Except perhaps.......another baby?

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

Yunho was focusing on trying to be there for you, be your energizer, especially right now while you were in pain.

"Come on baby! Push! You can do it! I know you can!" He kept cheering you on.

You let out an intense groan.

"Yunho baby I know you're trying to help but please......shut up and let me concentrate!"

Yunho didn't take it offensively. He could only imagine the pain you were going through and it broke his heart to see you in so much pain. He wished he could find a way to stop it, but he knew it was impossible. And it was even worse for you because you had double the work since you were carrying twin girls. Yunho tried to stay positive and bright for you, but the more he saw you in pain, the more he felt bad.

"Baby...I'm so sorry you're going through this-"

"You better be! You and that monster cock of yours that just had to get me pregnant with 2 kids!" You interrupted him in your chaotic state.

Hours later and you welcomed your twin babies. They were so tiny that Yunho could perfectly fit them in his large arms.

"Oh my God....they're gorgeous and beautiful and..."

Yunho couldn't contain himself anymore, he bursted out sobbing uncontrollably, which made the nurse take away the babies and give them to you just in case he dropped them or something. It took him quite some time to compose himself.

"Haha! Cry baby!" San teased him when you told them all about the experience.

"If you were in my place, you would have cried to." Yunho pointed out as he carefully showed Mingi how to hold one of the babies.

"Wow! For being Yunho's daughter, you sure are tiny." Mingi smiled at the little girl.

"Uh.....Y/N...I think this one is hungry..." Hongjoong told you when the other girl started nuzzling her face into his chest, causing the rest to laugh at how awkward he was.

"Here. I promised to show Seonghwa how to feed them anyways." You said as you took back the baby.

"Yay!" Seonghwa happily exclaimed.

"Why does he get to go first?" San pouted.

"Don't worry San, you'll get a turn. After all, you guys are also their family." Yunho nudged him with his elbow.

"But obviously I'm the favorite uncle." Mingi piped up.

"Says who?!" Jongho protested.

You and Yunho just watched them argue as they fought about who the babies would like more, knowing fully well they'd love all of them equally.

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

Your tight grip on Yeosang's hand was very painful for him. When you asked if you could hold his hand, he didn't think you'd be crushing it to the point his bones cracked. He swore you popped something.

"Ok honey just breathe in, breathe out. Remember the- ugh! breathing exercises." He grunted out suggestions in the midst of your and his pain.

"Oh look! I see his head!"

The nurse instructed you for just one more big push, which it took a lot of strength on your part, but nonetheless you did it. Yeosang decided to do the dumb mistake of peeking over to see his son come out of you, but as soon as he did, his eyes went wide, he felt shocked and actually fell to the floor, nearly fainting but didn't actually.

As soon as you got over the pain and were breathing normally, you looked over at Yeosang who was still on the floor, looking up at the ceiling in a daze.

"Oh stop being such a baby. You weren't the one pushing him out." You rolled your eyes at him.

Finally composing himself, Yeosang looked at his newborn son, happily cradled in your arms. He couldn't believe you two actually made such a perfect little angel.

"Wanna go meet daddy?" You asked the baby before placing him in Yeosang's embrace.

Yeosang just stared in awe at his son, silently admiring all his features as the realization hit him that he was real and he was finally here.

"My son..." He murmured before leaning in to kiss the baby's nose, making the infant whimper softly.

"Oh look. He gets shy and fussy with affection just like his father." You teased Yeosang.

Knowing Yeosang wouldn't plan anything, the boys organized themselves to welcome you both home when you were finally released from the hospital.

"Surprise!" They all yelled as soon as you two walked in.

"Move aside bitches! The godfather is coming through!" Wooyoung pushed the others away to see the baby first.

"Strike number 1." Yeosang warned him, not at all pleased by his friend's swearing.

"See? This is why I should have been the godfather. I'm a better influence." San piped up, making them all groan.

"I've been his friend the longest! I get privileges!" Wooyoung shouted while he rocked the baby.

"Which can get revoked very easily." Yeosang reminded him as he took away the baby from Wooyoung.

"My turn! I wanna hold little Sangie!"

But before Seonghwa could even reach for him, Yeosang stopped him.

"None of you are touching my son. He does not like being touched by strangers."

They all looked back and forth each other before staring at Yeosang with a dead panned expression.

"Wow. Not even a week old and you're already turning him into a grinch like you." Jongho stated, causing all, even you to laugh.

It didn't matter. You knew your son was going to be raised and smothered with a lot of love, even if he didn't want it.

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

San gently held your hand, occasionally placing his other hand on top of it to caress it in an attempt to calm you down.

"You're doing such a good job honey! Such a strong woman you are!"

Nothing could keep the grin off his face. Since you told him you were pregnant, he was already beyond happy. It was like he was in paradise all those 9 months and now he felt like he was on the brink of seeing heaven, while you felt like you were in hell from all the pushing you were doing.

"Wow....13 lbs/6kg. He's certainly a big boy." The nurse told you.

You whined as you let your head fall back on the pillow. He was definitely not easy to push out. San on the other hand took that as a good sign.

"That means he'll be tall and strong, just like me."

As soon as the boy was put in his arms, San let out a half-choked squeal. His eyes started brimming with tears as he held him out for you to see.

"Look. See that beautiful person here? That's mommy."

You let out an exhausted sigh, but smiled nonetheless when San got closer so you could get a better look at your baby. San helped you hold him since you were too weak and drained to hold him by yourself.

"Hey, you did an amazing job. Thank you." San bent down to kiss your forehead.

San made sure to help you out in everything when you got back home. You two were so busy trying to adjust to having a baby around the house, you forgot to introduce him to the other guys and even forgot about your first child which was currently being babysat by Yunho and Mingi.

"Yo! Forgot something?"

Right away, Byeol jumped out of the tall man's arms and into the house, already making a run towards her favorite spot.

"Wait Byeol!" You and San chased after her, realizing the baby's crib had taken over her favorite spot.

You both stopped as you saw Byeol perch herself on the crib's railing, looking intently at the figure in front of her. Seeing a strange creature, your son immediately reached his hand out, trying to touch her. Byeol only leaned her nose in, sniffing him slowly before allowing him to pet her ears.

"Oh my God...so cute." San gasped as he clutched his heart dramatically at the sight of his two babies meeting.

"Yo! Now that they've met, can we meet him?! We're family too!"

You both laughed and allowed each and every one of the boys to come meet the baby, safely guiding them through it since Byeol already became possessive and protective over the boy.

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

All the boys stood outside the delivery room. Between your wailing and Mingi's screams, they couldn't tell who was the one who was actually giving birth.

"20 bucks he faints." Jongho looked over at Yeosang.

Taking his hand out and shaking it, Yeosang agreed.

"Bet. I say he cries for 5 minutes straight."

Meanwhile it was a mess inside the room. You were in so much pain, clasping Mingi's hand so fiercely that the poor boy was on his knees, trying to get your grip off him. Every time you let out a particularly loud scream, Mingi would scream even louder than you.

"Why are you screaming?! You're not the one pushing a baby out!" You scolded him.

"I'm sorry! You're just being very scary and I'm in pain!" He whimpered as he once again tried to pull his hand away from you.

Gripping his hand even tighter, you locked eyes with him.

"Pain?! You don't know the half of the meaning of that word Song Mingi! Mark my words, make me go through this again and I will cut off your dick!"

Your threat shook him so much that he finally passed out onto the floor, laying unconscious for a while. He was woken up several minutes later by Yunho.

"Hey? You ok there buddy?" Yunho carefully helped him up from the chair.

"What happened?" Mingi asked.

"You fainted and now Yeosang owes Jongho 20 bucks." Hongjoong casually stated as he stood next to you, with Seonghwa beaming at his side.

"Can I hold her now?!" Seonghwa whined, stomping his foot impatiently.

"No Hwa! None of us are holding her until her father holds her first!" Hongjoong firmly said.

Remembering where he was, Mingi quickly got up and went over to see his daughter. He covered his face as he peered down at her.

"Do you wanna hold her?"

He instantly nodded and allowed you to place the baby in his arms. You were afraid because his hands were trembling so much, but once the baby settled into his embrace, Mingi was relaxed and smiling down at his bundle of joy.

"Hi my little angel. I'm your daddy." He introduced himself before placing a gentle kiss on her tiny head.

All of the boys were cooing at the scene, some like Seonghwa and San were already crying. Yunho wrapped an arm around his best friend, congratulating him on becoming a father.

"Ok now can I hold her?" Seonghwa asked again.

Sighing, Mingi reluctantly handed her over, pouting as he watched them all hoard over his daughter.

"Mingi, you'll get to have her for a lifetime. 10 minutes of them with her won't kill you." You assured him.

He huffed and let out a tiny whine as you laughed.

"Oh you're whipped. Definitely whipped now."

"Been whipped for her since we found out she was coming for your information."

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

Wooyoung picked up his phone that was ringing. Upon seeing your caller id, he immediately smirked.

"Hello my beautiful baby mama. What service do you need today? Chocolate? Ice cream? My loving arms" He offered.

"Get. Here. Now! Baby on the way!" He heard your desperate voice say.

"Wait what?! You weren't due for another week!" Wooyoung said as he began picking his stuff up.

"I don't care! I'm going into labor and I really need the father here right now Woo!" You cried out, already tearing up from how scared you were.

"Listen baby it's ok. I'll be there soon ok? Don't hang up. I'll be here the whole time until I get there."

Wooyoung definitely did not hang up until he saw you, laying there on the hospital bed.

"I'm sorry I'm late." He sat down beside you. Holding your hand, he placed a kiss on your fingers.

"It's ok. She just decided to come a little early I guess." You chuckled softly.

When the nurse asked you if you were ready, you immediately gulped. Sensing how scared you were, Wooyoung cupped your face.

"Hey look at me. I'm here with you and we're going to get through this together all right? I'll be right here just as I have been all this time... now do you trust me?"

You trusted Wooyoung with your entire existence. He was supportive throughout the entire ordeal, praising you and holding you after you finished pushing out your baby. Wooyoung made sure you were ok and weren't too exhausted. You both held your baby daughter and were already in love with her.

And when you introduce her to the other members, they were head over heels for her.

"She's so tiny!" San said as he waved a rattle in her face.

"And so quiet. Wooyoung, are you sure you're the father?" Yeosang teased.

"Hahaha. So funny. Keep it up and you'll be demoted from godfather to mean uncle." Wooyoung threatened him as he held up the spoon he was currently using to pour the cake batter into a pan.

"Peekaboo!" Yunho exclaimed as he played with her, the little baby looking not at all amused and instead looking over to where you and Wooyoung were.

When she began fussing around, Wooyoung immediately rushed over and picked her up.

"All right which one of you made her cry?" He glared at them.

All the members pointed fingers at one another, not wanting to face his anger.

"Damn. Becoming a dad made him terrifying." You thought to yourself.

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

When Jongho felt you stir in the middle of the night, he knew something was up.

"We should go to the hospital. Just in case."

Refusing to hear you protest, he lifted you up and placed you on the backseat of the car. Not even 5 minutes later, your felt your water break and you were so happy Jongho decided to take extra precautions. He called his Hyungs to let them know where he was and although he didn't expect them to show up, they did nonetheless.

"We gotta support our baby even if he's having a baby of his own." Mingi stated.

Jongho was more nervous than you were. His hands were shaking and he could hardly hear any instructions the doctor was giving. He is too lost in his own thoughts, worried about what was going to happen and most of all, if he'd be a good father.

"Jongho?"

Your voice snapped him back to reality and he was by your side immediately.

"Yes baby? What it is? What can I do?"

You smiled and held out your hand.

"Just hold me please. That's all I need."

Jongho gladly held your hand in his, kissing you gently before the pain kicked in. Jongho was tense the entire time, unable to speak and much less say any encouraging words to you, which he felt bad about. He only focused on holding your hand and making sure you were doing ok. When you were finally done, he helped you lay back down on the bed, knowing you were completely exhausted.

"Congratulations. Your baby boy is completely healthy."

When Jongho held his son, he was overcome with joy. He giddily sat down beside you.

"Look baby, isn't he handsome?"

Jongho carefully placed him on your lap so you could carry him. As soon as you pressed him to your chest, the boy was already looking for food, making you both giggle. Jongho just watched as you breastfed the baby, still not over the fact you two were actually parents now. Stroking your hair, he kissed your nose.

"Thank you." He whispered softly.

The tender moment was interrupted by the other members no longer wanting to wait and walking in. Jongho let out a high pitched squeal before pushing them back out.

"Wait! We want to see your mini hulk!" San struggled to stay inside.

"Not right now! He's getting fed and I don't want you guys seeing that!" Jongho slammed the door behind him, happy they didn't see anything yet.

Right now it was an intimate moment and he didn't want the 3 of you to be disturbed. He just wanted some time to enjoy you two for a moment.

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez dad au #dad!au #dad!ateez #ateez fluff #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho

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contemplativepancakes · 4 years ago

Text

number one wiener eater

written for the @lambertbigbang, with art by the amazing @geralt-of-riviass here! Make sure to check it out :D (also a ginormous thanks to @hoomhum for betaing and helping me work out the extremely complicated logistics of bathroom stall sex). Read on ao3 here!

When Lambert loses the hot dog eating contest that he’s won for the past three years in a row, there’s nothing he would love more than to find who beat him and punch them in the face. Unfortunately, he was too busy throwing up to know who the winner was.

All he knows is that he’s kind of maybe in love with the guy who held his hair while he puked. (8k, explicit, lambden, cw: vomiting, semi public sex)

Lambert’s gonna puke. He keeps stuffing the buns in his mouth, but they’re like glue, and his jaw refuses to work. He swallows, but nothing goes down. He takes a desperate gulp of water and sputters on it. Jerking his head up to glance at the countdown clock, he silently curses as he sees he has seconds left. He shoves what he can into his already full mouth, raising his hands up as the judge shouts for them to stop.

He takes a second to glance down the long line of other competitive eaters, but a wave of nausea hits him, and he looks at the ground, determined on keeping everything down. He keeps chewing and working to swallow as the judge takes away the plate to weigh it. Another comes down the aisle casting a critical eye at their tables, making sure that not too much food went onto the ground or table instead of their mouths.

It’s blazing outside today, and sweat coats Lambert’s face. Acid burns up his throat, but he chokes it back. He’s not a lightweight.

Lambert’s won this contest the past three years in a row, and he’s pretty sure he has this one in the bag. It’s no Coney Island Hot Dog Eating Contest, and he’s no Joey Chestnut, but he’s at least good, and the prize money is decent enough. He’s had his eye on an inflatable jacuzzi—for the women, Geralt. And the men—and he’s excited to make his maybe ill-advised purchase.

He waits for them to announce the winner, bouncing his foot on the ground to give himself something to focus on besides the rising wave of whatever’s churning in his gut.

When the judges stand up on their small podium, a hush falls over the small crowd gathered. Lambert directs his attention to them, but a bright burst of nausea hits him and sends sweat dripping down his back, and he doesn’t manage to hear anything after that.

He pukes.

“Oh jeez, are you okay?” a voice comes from somewhere on his left.

“Fine,” Lambert grunts, wiping his mouth and grimacing at the burning taste left in his mouth. Definitely more pleasant as the hot dogs were going down than up.

“Are you sure? You seem shaky.”

“I’m fine,” Lambert grumbles, and finally looks up at the guy, who puts his hands up in surrender.

“Just checking.”

He starts to heave again, and he reaches for the pail thoughtfully provided for them by the contest sponsors.

“Yep, you sure seem fine!” the other man chirps.

Lambert retches one more time, and the man hands him a napkin. Lambert takes it suspiciously, wondering if this is a reporter or something. He’s not sure why someone would want to deal with this.

The man hands him a bottle of water next, and Lambert purses his lips as he twists the top off. He squints at him. “Who are you?” he finally asks.

“Oh, sorry. I’m Aiden.”

All that does is give Lambert a name, not answer his question, but he doesn’t comment further, just offers his own name in a grunt.

“Oh, I know who you are.”

“You a fan?”

“You could say that,” Aiden says with a grin, and Lambert rolls his eyes.

“They didn’t tell me competitive eating gets you groupies.”

Aiden gives him a full throated laugh at that, and Lambert curses himself when he catches himself thinking that it sounds kind of nice. Those are exactly the kind of thoughts he doesn’t want to be having. Especially not for some weirdo that stopped to what, hold his hair while he puked? Who does that? If he’s not careful, he’s going to end up in an ice bath one kidney short.

Lambert wipes his mouth with the back of his hand again, surreptitiously checking his breath. It’s not peaches and cream, that’s for sure.

Lambert sets the pail down and faces Aiden, trying to flat out dislike him at how white his teeth are, how perfectly coiffed his dark curly hair is even in this heat, but he fails as Aiden continues to be nothing but nice to him, making small talk as Lambert tries to pull himself together.

After Lambert’s fully sat up instead of half way hunched over, expecting another vomiting wave to hit him, Aiden straightens up, too. “Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you around, then, huh?”

Lambert’s confused for a second, because he’s never seen Aiden before, but he decides he’s going to take this as a good sign. Or maybe a bad sign for the fate of his kidneys, whatever the case may be.

“I would hope so,” Lambert settles on, deciding that sounds like a good mix of hopeful and not at all like he’s desperate for a little human contact.

Aiden gives him a little half wave that has no right to be as adorable as it is when a grown man does it, and Lambert frowns and tamps down the feelings rising in his gut. No, he’s not going to call them butterflies. He’s not a twelve year old; he doesn’t get crushes, and he certainly doesn’t get butterflies in his stomach.

Lambert eventually manages to get up and walks away from the contest, sadly bereft of the prize money. He missed the announcement of the winner while he was busy throwing up, but he caught the disappointed looks some of the spectators were casting him, so he knows it isn’t him. He doesn’t even want to know who it was. He’ll just dwell endlessly. His stomach is still roiling as he clambers into his car, but at this point, he’s not sure why.

It’s what he ate, he’s sure.

Lambert slams his kitchen cupboard door shut. “I don’t want to talk about it, Geralt,” he mutters.

Geralt always wants to hash every detail of his competitions, and while normally Lambert is happy to indulge him, he just doesn’t want to talk about this one, okay?

It has everything to do with him losing and absolutely nothing to do with Aiden. Nothing at all.

“Okay, fine,” Geralt says, raising his hands and backing up. “No need to get so grouchy about it.”

Lambert scowls. “I’m not grouchy.”

“Right. Prove it.”

“Fine.” Lambert crosses his arms.

Geralt grins. “Return my library book for me? It’s due today, and there’s no way I’m making it over to that side of town today, I’m slammed.”

“Yeah? You’re so slammed you had time to come here and harass me?”

Geralt reaches forward to ruffle Lambert’s hair, and Lambert knocks his hand away. “Not harassment. Just brotherly concern. Have you seen the wikipedia page for competitive eating? And you expect me not to worry?” Geralt scoffs.

Lambert rolls his eyes. “Stop being so over protective, mom.”

“Deal. If you return my book.”

Lambert rolls his eyes, but he takes the book. He looks down at the title, then back up at Geralt, raising his eyebrows. “Really? Twilight?”

“I didn’t even think you knew how to read, Lamb,” Geralt deflects.

Lambert huffs. “I don’t know if I want to embarrass myself by returning this, but whatever. If anyone asks, it’s my sister’s book. You owe me.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the one in the lead on favors.”

“I doubt it.”

Lambert makes a show of taking the book between his pinched thumb and forefinger, Geralt rolling his eyes all the while. “I know, I know. You hear vampire, and you can’t help yourself,” Lambert says.

Geralt shrugs before clapping his hands on his thighs. “All right, I better get going. I have to pick Ciri up from school.”

“And you couldn’t have gone after to the library with her?”

“She has martial arts.”

Lambert sighs. He can help Geralt out this once, he supposes.

Geralt leaves and Lambert eyes the book setting on his coffee table. He guesses he might as well go now, and he can poke around and see if there’s anything that catches his eye. He hasn’t been to the library in nearly a year, but it might be a nice change of pace.

Lambert clambers to his feet, stopping to grab his wallet and keys before walking out to his car.

He hits every red light between his apartment and the library, and his good mood has nearly evaporated by the time he gets there. That changes when he walks in the door and sees who’s sitting at the front desk. “Aiden?” he doesn’t squeak.

Aiden looks up from where he’s typing furiously at a computer, and his face breaks out into a wide grin that makes Lambert’s stomach flip. “Lambert!”

Lambert looks down at the book he’s carrying and immediately hides it behind his back. Aiden quirks an eyebrow at him. “Got a return?”

“Yes, well, I mean, no—”

Aiden stretches out a hand, and Lambert resigns himself to his fate. He gives Aiden the book. Aiden barely glances at the cover, just gives Lambert a small smile and scans the barcode.

“I’m returning that for my brother,” Lambert can’t stop himself from saying.

Aiden glances back up at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Aiden nods once. “Likely story.”

Lambert splutters and then stops when he sees the shit eating grin Aiden’s giving him.

“Hey, all reading is good reading,” Aiden says. “I’m not going to rag on you.”

“It’s my brother’s,” Lambert mumbles again, but he shakes his head in defeat.

“Let me know if you need help finding anything.”

Lambert would normally rather die before asking for help, but he thinks it might be okay if it's Aiden he’s asking for it from. He wouldn’t have offered if he was busy or something, right?

The organ harvesting alarms start going off in Lambert’s brain again, but he dismisses them. Someone so nice surely isn’t going to cut anything out of him. And even if he does, Lambert would bet Aiden would give the good drugs, so he wouldn’t even feel it. He seems nice like that.

Yeah, that’d be okay.

Lambert moves farther into the library, going between the stacks where no one can see him. He’s not sure what books he should get to try and recover the remaining shreds of his dignity.

He whips out his phone and searches long classic books. He scrolls down the page a little frantically until he lands on War and Peace. He’s heard of that before. He’s pretty sure it’s a well regarded book. What if Aiden thinks he’s a pretentious dick? Okay, maybe he is, a little, but he doesn’t want to give him that impression right off the bat. Lambert’s already ruined his first, and second impression, he doesn’t want to mess up the third.

Lambert makes his way down the aisles, squinting as he looks for the Ts. He pulls out the book with a flourish after he finally finds it, weighing its impressive heft in his hand. He cracks it open and finds it to be suitably dense. He makes his way back up to the circulation desk, where Aiden’s scanning in returns from their self service slot.

Why didn’t Lambert just use that? He could slap himself. Well, he guesses he wouldn’t have seen Aiden if he did that, so at risk of sounding like a creepy stalker, he’s glad he came in.

Lambert thunks the book down on the counter. Aiden looks at it, then up to Lambert, a grin spreading across his face. “Just a bit of light reading for you then?”

Heat rises to Lambert’s cheeks, not sure if he’s being mocked or not. He shrugs. “It’s been on my list.”

Aiden holds a hand out, his eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Uh…”

“I need your library card,” Aiden says patiently.

“Right. Um, let’s see here.”

Lambert hasn’t been to the library since the last time he came with Ciri to pick out movies they were going to watch while she stayed with him, and he pulls out his wallet. He holds it open to thumb through it, wondering why the fuck he feels the need to carry so many gift cards around that he’s never going to use. Foil crinkles as he goes through everything, and he resolutely does not make eye contact with Aiden.

It’s no use, though. “You’re not supposed to carry those around in your wallet, you know,” he says conversationally. “Wears holes in them.”

There’s a quip on Lambert’s tongue about using them often enough that he doesn’t have to worry about that, but he bites it back. He’s not a creep who would say that at someone’s job.

After another painful ten seconds, Lambert gives up on finding the card. He thinks he remembers them giving him a miniature one for it, too, so he looks on his key chain instead, filled as it is with at least twenty different discount cards and various baubles Ciri’s made for him.

“I can tell you’re a fine connoisseur of our goods,” Aiden comments.

“Shut up,” Lambert grouses, finally finding the little card and setting the whole thing down for Aiden.

Aiden scans it, keys and cards jingling against each other, and frowns. “It’s expired,” he says apologetically.

Lambert wishes the floor would open up and swallow him whole, especially as Aiden fingers the rooster on it that Eskel gave him after he came out. He should get around to cleaning off his keyring.

“I guess I know you really were returning that book for your brother?” Aiden offers.

Despite himself, Lambert smiles. “I guess you do.” Lambert swallows. “So what do I have to do to renew it? I think I might have to start coming here more often.”

Aiden gives him a tiny grin, and they get the card renewed, then the book checked out. “I’ll be expecting a report on how it was when you return it,” Aiden says of War and Peace, tucking the receipt into the book.

Lambert’s not sure if he had been entirely convinced he was actually going to read it, but he finds himself saying, “You bet.”

Aiden flashes him a smile that Lambert would best describe as feral, and as he walks out to his car, Lambert wonders what exactly he’s gotten himself into.

Later that night finds Geralt back on Lambert’s couch. “I thought you were so busy,” Lambert complains.

“Well, Ciri’s at her martial arts class now and your apartment was close. What do you have to eat?”

Lambert rolls his eyes and resists the urge to shove Geralt’s feet off his coffee table. “Nothing for you.”

Geralt gets up to survey the refrigerator.

“If you put a finger on my burrito, I’ll end you,” Lambert threatens.

Lambert can practically hear Geralt rolling his eyes as he heaves a heavy sigh. “Do not drink out of the jug either.”

Geralt groans again. “Like you don’t?”

“Well, I’m the one who buys it. All you do is come over and eat my food like you don’t have any of your own.”

Geralt comes back to the couch after some muttering and putting something in the microwave. Lambert resists the urge to strangle him. When Geralt comes back, it’s with chinese takeout that’s been in the refrigerator for at least two weeks. Lambert doesn’t say anything.

He watches with a raised eyebrow as Geralt slurps down the noodles, mildly impressed at his stomach of steel. He’s always thought Geralt would be a good competitive eater.

When Geralt finally puts the chop sticks down and comes back up for air, he brightens and reaches into his pocket. “Here, I saved this for you.”

Geralt hands a folded up newspaper clipping to him, and Lambert scowls upon seeing the picture of the hot dog eating contest sign. He crumples it up and tosses it at Geralt’s head.

Geralt’s hand automatically comes up and bats it away, making it fall to the floor. “Jeez, I try to do one nice thing…”

“Don’t act like being nice was your motivation.”

Geralt gives him a cheshire cat grin. “You’re too easy to rile up, you know that?”

“Yeah, thanks a lot for that, shit lips. By the way, you’re welcome for taking back your book. I nearly got laughed out of the library.”

Geralt smirks at him. Fortunately for Geralt, there’s nothing for Lambert to throw at him again within arms reach.

“I see you even got a book. That’s some heavy reading,” Geralt says, a look of mock seriousness pasted on his face.

“Shut up.”

“That’d take you at least three years to read.”

“Shut up,” Lambert says again, putting his hands over his ears.

“Almost seems like you got that just to impress someone; I’ve never known you to have an interest in the classics before.”

Lambert looks at the book sitting on the coffee table and considers just braining Geralt with it. Surely a jury would be understanding that sometimes you just have to hit your stupid as fuck brother upside the head with a three pound book.

Not guilty, for sure.

Lambert snaps out of his daydream to look pointedly at the clock. “Exactly how long is Ciri’s class?”

Geralt checks his watch. “Shit, I gotta go.”

Lambert grouses as Geralt puts on his jacket and leaves his bowl on the table for Lambert. “I’m not a maid!” he shouts after Geralt’s retreating back.

Geralt flips him off and then blows him a kiss, leaving Lambert to wonder if he’s just broken a record for the world’s longest eye roll.

Lambert looks back to the book. He guesses he has nothing better to do…

Lambert makes it through the book much more quickly than he anticipated; once he gets past the dry as fuck language, it’s actually kind of interesting.

He’s excited but also dreading going back to the library. This time he should probably be better prepared when he goes in, so he doesn’t have to frantically flick through his phone hidden in the middle of the stacks trying to find something to check out that’s not going to make him look like an idiot.

He searches for something interesting sounding, but maybe something that’s not going to make Aiden laugh at him this time. Well, maybe he can make him laugh in a good way instead of making fun of him, Lambert muses as he scrolls through book titles.

And so, the next time when he goes to the library, he surprises a laugh out of Aiden when he slams A Treatise of Cocks and Hens onto the counter to check out.

“You into animal husbandry now?” Aiden snickers.

“I’ve been considering some laying hens,” Lambert says in mock seriousness. “Why, you got any advice?”

“Ah. Eggs, nature’s perfect food,” he says sagely. “I am sure that is the only reason why you’ve chosen this particular book.”

“Yep.”

Aiden grins. “Huh. Very interesting. Well, I’ll be expecting a report back. By the way, how was War and Peace?”

“Surprisingly not terrible.”

Aiden drums his fingers on the counter, scrutinizing him. “Huh.”

“What do you mean, ‘huh?’”

“A man can’t say ‘huh’ without being ruthlessly interrogated now? What is this country coming to?”

Lambert shakes his head at the dramatics and finally remembers to hand over his library card. Aiden scans it, then his book, a small smile still playing at the corner of his mouth. The receipt prints, and Lambert holds out his hand for it, but Aiden takes it and scribbles something down before tucking it in the book.

“Just...personalized service for our valued members,” he says with a wink.

“I’m not paying for anything; I don’t think you need to try that hard.”

“Are you complaining?”

Lambert shakes his head hastily. “Definitely not.”

Aiden slides the book across the counter to him. “Come back soon,” he says with a cheeky wave.

Lambert barely resists the urge to stick his tongue out at him, and where did that come from, but he manages to make it out of the library without making a total ass of himself. When he gets out to his car, he slides behind the wheel and takes the receipt out of the bag.

On it is a number, one Lambert hopes like fuck is Aiden’s and not just some cruel joke, and the words, Text me what you learned from this book. I want to learn all about it (;

Lambert traces his fingers over the word cock on the cover.

He can’t believe that actually worked.

When he tells Geralt the news, Geralt howls with laughter.

Predictably, Geralt is eating his food again, and is being absolutely no help in assisting Lambert with choosing the clothes he should wear on his date. He had somehow worked up the nerve to text Aiden, and after a week of sending waffling texts back and forth, they’re going to a bar together. Shit, Lambert hasn’t been on a date in forever.

“Calm down,” Geralt says around a mouthful of pasta from Lambert’s bed, watching his eyes dart back and forth around his closet. “Wear a button down,” he advises. “That’s respectable.”

“Not like I’m trying too hard?”

Geralt hums. “Maybe.”

Lambert scowls at him. “Why are you even here if you’re not going to help?”

Geralt points a fork to his bowl. “Dude, you made bolognese. Where else am I going to be?”

“Don’t you have a kid or something you need to watch?” Lambert asks, but it’s without heat.

“She’s with Yen tonight. I wanted a front row seat to this shit show, and they’re going to an opera or something. I don’t ask questions.”

“Wow, thank you for your enthusiastic support.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you care this much before,” Geralt observes.

“Yeah, well, he’s nice. I’ve never dated someone who’s nice before.”

“I can only hope he rubs off on you.”

Lambert nods. “We can only hope.”

Geralt throws a pillow at him. “Don’t be a pervert.”

“Hey! You’re the one who said it, not me.”

Geralt sets the bowl down, balancing precariously on Lambert’s bed and claps his hands over his ears. “I do not want to think about you doing any of that. You’re going to be 12 to me forever.”

“Geralt, you are six years older than me.”

“And?”

Lambert shakes his head as he pulls out a polo before discarding it.

Why the hell does he even have that? He wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a fucking polo.

In the end, Lambert settles on nothing too out of the norm from his typical style. He doesn’t want Aiden to get the wrong idea, and he’s sure Aiden won’t hesitate in making fun of him if he tries too hard. He wets his comb and runs it through his hair, but it’s really too short to stick up in odd angles, which is exactly the way he likes it.

He shoos Geralt out of his apartment as he leaves. “I can’t leave you unsupervised to poke through my things,” he says, and Geralt doesn’t even argue with him about it, which is highly concerning because that means it’s true.

Lambert’s heart is jackrabbiting against his chest as he walks out to his car. He gives Geralt a gruff goodbye before ducking into his car, plugging his phone into the radio and cranking the volume up. He tries to focus on the lyrics instead of the pounding in his chest that he can feel pulsating in his wrists. He scrolls through his songs until he finds something by Minor Threat so he can turn it up and drown out the rest of his thoughts.

He’s meeting Aiden at the bar, because Geralt told him it was weird to pick someone up on the first date, and that Aiden was an Independent Man, whatever that meant. He probably shouldn’t listen to Geralt.

He beats his fingers in rapid bursts on his steering wheel in time with the music until he gets there, and then he checks his phone to see it’s way too early to go in yet. God, he’s messing this up already. He scrolls through his social media feeds while he waits until his phone buzzes with an incoming picture. He clicks over to it, to see—himself, hunched over behind the steering wheel of his car. It’s taken through a window, and it’s sort of definitely mega creepy.

Aiden: you coming in, or do you just plan on sitting out there all night?

Lambert checks the time again and verifies that no, he’s still 20 minutes early. A small smile crawls across his face.

He gets out and walks into the bar, looking around. Aiden waves to him, and he’s sitting at a booth, not even at the bar.

“Wow. Classy.” Lambert comments as he slides in next to him.

Shit, should he have sat across from him? Aiden apparently doesn’t mind by the way he immediately presses against Lambert.

“Can’t believe I got you out of your academic setting,” Aiden smirks. “How goes the chicken husbandry?”

“I’m considering building a coop,” Lambert says on reflex.

“I can’t even tell if you’re joking.”

Lambert grins. “Only mostly. Don’t you think that would be cute, or whatever?”

“What, you in a frilly apron collecting eggs? Yeah, I could get behind that.”

Lambert’s face gets hot almost instantly. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I think it should be.” Aiden quirks an eyebrow at him in challenge, one which Lambert immediately cops out of.

“What do you want to drink?”

Lambert stands up with Aiden’s order and goes to the bar to get it, wondering what Geralt’s opinion on how the bill should be split is.

When he comes back, Aiden’s checking his phone, but he quickly sets it down when Lambert slips in beside him again.

“Just letting my friend know I’m not dead,” he says brightly. “I sent her the picture of you, and that’s already shady enough to be perfect for America’s Most Wanted, so I’d keep that in mind.”

Lambert snorts. “Noted,” he says, passing over the beer.

Aiden takes a gulp, and Lambert’s gaze doesn’t linger on how Aiden’s lips wrap around the bottle, not one bit.

Aiden sets the bottle down on the table with a clunk, liquid making its way dangerously close to the top, but none splashes out.

“So tell me about yourself, besides the fact that you eat too many hot dogs, read long books in the hopes of impressing librarians, and are blue printing a chicken coop.”

Lambert drums his fingers on the table and shrugs. “I’m not that interesting. And who said I was trying to impress you?”

Aiden shrugs and takes another drink of his beer, setting it back down and swiping a finger through the condensation. “Aren’t you?”

Lambert stands up abruptly. “Come on, pool table’s empty.”

“I think you’re going to have to show me how to handle my stick.”

Lambert groans and shoves at him. “That was so bad. That was terrible. I’m not rewarding you for that.”

Aiden grins at him, and they play pool, with Aiden exaggerating his cue handling the entire time. If Lambert has to watch him run his hands down its length one more time…

“What exactly are you angling for, here, hmm?” Lambert asks, sidling up next to him and nudging him out of the way so he can take aim for the cue ball.

Aiden shrugs. “Whatever you’re willing to give me.” He crosses his arms and leans back against the wall. “I’m easy.”

Lambert squeezes his eyes shut for a second at the mental image that provides before gulping. “I, uh, haven’t really been with anyone in a while. Might be a little rusty.”

Aiden crowds behind him and wraps his arms around Lambert’s waist. “Just like riding a bike,” he says into his ear.

Lambert leans down and hits the cue ball, knocking the black eight into the middle pocket. “Well, shit.” They both know he did it on purpose.

Aiden takes Lambert’s hand for a second, and Lambert has to make a conscious effort not to short circuit. “Meet me in the bathroom,” he murmurs before turning away, leaving Lambert to fidget uncomfortably. He knocks all the balls into the pockets and hangs up their cues, dithering a little to try not to make this too obvious. Jesus, he feels like he’s 22 again, only this time he’s doing it with someone he actually likes and not just to get a reaction out of his dad when he found out.

Lambert sets his hands on the pool table and takes a deep breath before heading to the bathroom. He walks in, noting that no, this isn’t a single stall, and anyone could walk on them. His heart beats a little faster.

Aiden’s at the sink washing his hands, and Lambert walks up behind him, mouthing at his neck and wrapping his arms around him.

“Took you long enough,” Aiden says, leaning back into him. “Come on.” Aiden tugs him into a stall and slides the lock shut behind them.

It’s a tight squeeze, two grown men in one tiny stall, and to be honest, it’s a little disgusting. Lambert leans past Aiden to close the toilet seat so he doesn’t have to look at the piss stains.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does that offend your delicate sensibilities?”

“A little bit, yeah.”

Aiden’s grin drops for a second. “You want to do this, right?”

Lambert tugs Aiden against him sharply and kisses him hard before pulling back. “Oh, yeah. Enthusiastically. Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

Lambert yanks Aiden’s shirt out of his pants, putting his hands on Aiden’s torso, enjoying the soft flesh and moving his way up until he can brush his thumb over Aiden’s nipple. Aiden leans back in to kiss him again, shoving his hands down Lambert’s pants where he’s growing steadily harder.

Aiden strokes him inside his underwear, and Lambert forgot how fucking good this feels. He still has one ear on the door, waiting for someone else to come inside the restroom. He’s not sure what they’re going to do if that happens, so he supposes he better move this along.

Lambert leans his head back against the stall door as Aiden jerks him to full hardness, their kiss turning into something uncoordinated and sloppy.

“Feel good?” Aiden murmurs.

“Fuck, yeah,” Lambert says, and his eyes get wide as Aiden drops to his knees.

Aiden pulls him out of his pants, finally unbuttoning them and relieving some of the pressure. Lambert winces as he looks down at the mystery stains on the floor, but Aiden’s unaffected. Lambert bites down on his lip as he looks down at Aiden, leaning forward to take him into his mouth.

“Wait,” he says, and his voice sounds far away. He fumbles for his wallet, thumbing through it to find the condom from the other day.

Aiden laughs and quirks an eyebrow at him.

“It’s a new one,” Lambert says defensively.

Aiden takes it from and tears it open, rolling it down Lambert’s length. “Good?” he asks, and Lambert eagerly nods.

Warm heat envelopes him, and he instinctively threads a hand through Aiden’s hair. Aiden seems to like that, and he starts doing something to the sensitive spot just under Lambert’s head that has him panting after a minute.

The door to the bathroom creaks open then, and Lambert tugs on Aiden’s hair urgently, but Aiden doesn’t let up, if anything, just increases whatever he’s doing down there until Lambert can barely see straight, let alone keep his noises to himself.

There’s the sound of someone unzipping themselves, and Lambert looks down at Aiden incredulously. Does this person really not notice them? Judging by the intensity of the stream they let out, Lambert’s guessing not.

Aiden brings his hand up to stroke the part of Lambert’s cock not in his mouth and keeps up the steady rhythm of his mouth. It feels incredible, tight wet heat around his cock, and Lambert’s concerned his lip is going to bleed if he keeps biting it this hard. A whine starts emanating from him as Aiden increases his speed.

The urinal finally flushes, and Aiden determinedly licks at the underside of Lambert’s cock, making him gasp. Lambert gives a little yank on his hair; he knows Aiden did that on purpose. Aiden looks up at him as innocently as he can with a mouth full of cock.

It’s obscene.

The person doesn’t even wash their hands before they leave, but Lambert can’t find it in him to bemoan their lack of hygiene, he’s just glad for some semblance of privacy again as he lets out a broken moan.

Aiden keeps it up, bobbing back and forth and twisting his hands around Lambert’s cock until he gasps, coming as his legs nearly give out from underneath him. “Fuck,” he says vehemently, panting as he tries to catch his beath. “Mild mannered librarian by day... But you’re sure something else at night, huh?” Lambert tugs a hand through Aiden’s coarse curls, delighting in the way they’re so pullable and soft.

Aiden hums and pulls off, Lambert’s eyes catching on the trail of saliva that follows Aiden’s lips, still connected to Lambert’s cock. “I don’t know about mild mannered.”

Aiden pulls off the condom and knots it, tucking it back into its original foil and putting it on top of the toilet paper dispenser before Lambert fists a hand in the collar of Aiden’s shirt and pulls him to his feet, kissing him messily and reveling in the taste of Aiden’s mouth. He reaches down between them, surprised to find Aiden still fully hard. He maneuvers Aiden around until his back is to the stall door instead of Lambert. Lambert squeezes him before getting to his knees himself, clumsy and unpracticed.

It’s been too long.

Lambert’s knees hit the hard floor, the cold tiles leaching warmth from his legs, even through his jeans. He finds himself not even caring about the ever present ammonia stench and the piss stains everywhere he looks. He unbuttons Aiden’s pants and unzips them, trying not to roll his eyes at the fact that he wore slacks to a bar. How difficult does he think Lambert is to impress, exactly, because Lambert would be the first to tell you it’s not that hard.

Speaking of things that are hard...Lambert jerks his fist along Aiden’s cock a few times, before pulling out another condom and putting it on him, moving forward to take the head into his mouth.

“Jesus, how many of those do you carry around?” Aiden asks, a little breathless.

Lambert pulls off for a moment. “I used to be a boy scout.”

“Liar,” Aiden hisses, but then his head is thudding back against the stall door as Lambert does a particularly clever twist of his fist. He keeps it moving along Aiden’s cock as he gets the head sloppy with spit, paying special attention to the sensitive spot on the underside.

Aiden twitches under his ministrations, and Lambert looks up at him, satisfied as he sees Aiden’s head is still leaned back against the stall door, his eyes squeezed shut.

Lambert hums as he takes more into his mouth, bobbing his head back and forth as he moves his hand farther back to play with Aiden’s balls. He rolls them gently in his hands, running his thumb over the soft skin.

When he looks back up at Aiden, he’s staring at Lambert with undisguised want and he’s visibly restraining himself from being louder. Lambert’s just glad that no one else has come into the bathroom. There’s no question about what’s happening here, not with the slick sounds they’re making.

Lambert starts to suck on Aiden’s cock, then, and a quiet swear comes out of Aiden and his hands fly down, scrambling for purchase in Lambert’s hair, but it’s too short for him to do anything but comb at it uselessly. He ends up with one of his hands on the back of Lambert’s head, just resting there, his fingertips coming down occasionally to brush at Lambert’s neck.

Part of Lambert rebels at the tenderness, but another part of him revels in it, and he keeps the steady motion up until Aiden’s hips are starting to jerk minutely.

Lambert presses a hand against him, holding his hips in place against the stall while he tongues the vein on the underside of Aiden’s cock. He comes after what seems like both a small eternity and no time at all, a moan punching out of him.

Aiden brushes his thumb over the corner of Lambert’s mouth and brings it back up to suck it into his own, Lambert tracking the movement with the corner of his eye. Lambert buttons up his pants and attempts to straighten his shirt, but it might be a lost cause with how many wrinkles are in it from how Aiden had rucked it up. Lambert pulls the condom off and wraps it in toilet paper, setting it on top of the one from earlier.

Lambert cracks the stall door open to throw the condoms into the trash, wincing when he misses.

“That was literally three feet away, dude.”

Lambert scowls at him as he gingerly picks it up and places it in the bin. “Don’t call me dude after I just sucked your cock.”

Lambert shuts the stall door again, waiting for Aiden to be a little bit more presentable.

Aiden tugs his shirt down and smoothes his hand over it, and Lambert tucks him back into his pants and buttons up his pants for him. “Thanks, babe,” he says with a shit eating grin.

Aiden pats Lambert’s hand fondly, and it gives Lambert a warm feeling even as he rolls his eyes. Lambert unlocks the door, and they stumble out together. Aiden leans against him, still very much in Lambert’s personal space and with his hair a mess. “So. You want to do this again sometime?”

All Lambert can do is nod.

“Sometime” happens quite frequently over the next several months. After...years of not being in a relationship, and certainly not having regular sex, Lambert’s not complaing.

He brings Aiden lunch at the library occasionally, since he has to work weekends, and Aiden ends up at Lambert’s cooking meals for him more than once in a while. Geralt appreciates the variety, at any rate.

When Geralt met Aiden for the first time, Geralt did a double take, and Lambert still doesn’t know what that’s about, and he doesn’t think he wants to know, either. If Geralt has ever slept with Aiden, he...doesn’t know what he’ll do. Scream, at the very least.

They’re at Aiden’s tonight, and Lambert’s digging through his refrigerator. “Why the fuck do you have all this lettuce? You’d think you were the professional eater,” he gripes as he shoves no less than six heads of the lettuce out of the way to get to the milk.

Aiden snorts behind him. “You’d think, huh?”

Lambert’s distracted from the discovery by Aiden’s arms wrapping around his waist. Lambert turns around in the hold to put his arms around Aiden’s neck and tug him even closer. Aiden grinds his hips against him, but Lambert pushes him back a little. “We haven’t even eaten supper yet,” he chides.

Aiden sighs, a long, put upon thing. “I’m going to die of blue balls.”

“I think you’ll be just fine.”

“What’s next? You say you have a headache?” Aiden puts a hand over his forehead dramatically.

“No, I’ll just tell you to fuck off if I’m not interested. Don’t worry.”

Aiden leans in to bite at Lambert’s ear lobe, and Lambert shoves his face away. “Fuck off.”

“Aw, Lamb,” Aiden wheedles.

“Food, then sex. God, you’re insatiable.”

“Thank you.” Aiden looks entirely too pleased with himself, and Lambert rolls his eyes.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t, you love me,” Aiden says in a sing song voice.

Lambert groans, burying his face in his hands. “I never should have told you that.”

Aiden sobers for a moment. “I’m so glad you did. I love you, too.”

“Stop being such a sap and help me make supper.”

Aiden rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay, I get it; you’re allergic to feelings. I see how it is. You tell a man something once after the best blow job of your life and then just expect him to forget about it.”

“It was really nice,” Lambert admits.

“That would be because I am the number one wiener eater,” he says proudly.

Lambert shoves him. “Don’t be disgusting.”

Aiden just grins at him unabashedly, pulling the chef’s knife out of their drawer and brandishing it a little too familiarly for Lambert’s comfort. Lambert rolls his eyes. “Here, chop these for me.”

Aiden sets to work and within an hour, they have a comforting meal pulled together. Lambert portions the pasta out onto plates, and they make quick work of it, both of them having tiny portions. Lambert is mainly on semi solids and liquids in preparation for his next contest, and Aiden, he guesses, is being supportive. When they’re done, Aiden looks at his watch and stands up, yawning. “I’m going to have to take a rain check, if you’ll survive.”

Lambert rolls his eyes at him. “I think I’ll live. It was your idea, anyway.”

Aiden makes a face at him, but pulls him into a kiss anyway. “I have a few last minute prep things to do for tomorrow.”

“Like what? Do you need help?” Lambert asks, frowning, wondering if Aiden is making a celebratory cake for him, or something. That might be jumping the gun a bit.

“Hey, I can’t give away all of my secrets, can I?”

“I suppose not,” Lambert says, squinting at him.

“All right, well, I’ll see you then. We can ride together, okay?”

Lambert nods his assent as Aiden practically shoos him out the door. It’s still light outside, and this is possibly the first time he’s left Aiden’s apartment while the evening light has shined on him the whole time he’s known Aiden. He squints into the sun as he clambers into his car.

Well, whatever. He has stuff he should be doing, anyway. Eyes on the prize, he coaches himself as he pops in a few sticks of gum. He’s got this. He’s so, totally got this, and nothing is going to distract him from winning.

The next day finds Lambert frowning at his phone, as Aiden tells him something, speaking way too quickly. “Sorry, I know I said I would ride with you but Gunther is out sick and I’m going to have to work up until, like, the very last minute before the contest…”

“Well, you don’t have to come,” Lambert says, concerned that maybe expecting Aiden to attend is asking too much, especially when his work is short staffed.

Aiden just laughs. “I bet you’d just love that, huh?”

Lambert is a little puzzled on why Aiden would say that, and he’s trying to think of a reply when someone shouts something in the background of the call. “Hey, I have to go. Love you, bye!”

There’s the beep of a disconnected call, and Lambert brings the phone down from his ear to stare at it. That was… a little bizarre. Well, whatever. He can’t have anything distracting him now. There’s no way he’s going to lose two contests in a row, not after he had to wait months for the next one to come around.

Lambert drives to the contest, pointedly not noting how empty his passenger seat is without Aiden in it. He looks forward to spending time with him, so to have it cancelled always leaves him feeling melancholy.

He clenches his jaw and turns up the radio, his fingers tapping a frantic rhythm on the wheel.

By the time he arrives, anxiety is coiling in his gut and he’s already sweating. He sits in his car for a moment, blasting the air conditioning. If he loses again, is he officially a has been? He takes a deep breath as he gets out, walking up to the judges and turning in his paperwork.

He turns to look for Aiden in the crowd, but he doesn’t see him, so he must not be here yet. Lambert sighs as he searches the table lined with hot dogs for an empty seat, stopping when he sees—Aiden?

Lambert stares at Aiden with a slack jaw. “You’re—you—competing? What?”

“Lamb, what are you talking about? Are you okay? You don’t look so good.” Aiden pushes his chair back and hurries over to him, bringing a hand up to put on Lambert’s forehead, but Lambert swats him away.

“When did you sign up?” Lambert finally gets out.

Aiden squints. “Right after the last one? For real, are you alright?”

“The last one?” Lambert echoes.

“Yes. The last one. The one that I won?”

Lambert’s mouth flaps.

“That you won?” he practically screeches. He’s feeling a little dizzy.

“Did you get hit on the head?” Aiden asks, looking around nervously like he’s trying to find someone to ask for help. “Who do you think won that last contest, Lamb?”

Lambert sputters. “I don’t know; I was a little preoccupied!”

“Did you not look it up after? Oh my god, I thought you knew,” Aiden says in horror.

Lambert wants to cry, honestly. “It was you?”

“I felt bad when you were throwing up! You were puking and you didn’t even win! Sue me for being nice!”

Realization dawns on Lambert that this is why Geralt could barely contain his laughter after meeting Aiden. He did try to give him that newspaper clipping, after all. Surely it had a picture of the winner in it.

“Why did you think I was even there in the first place?” Aiden finally asks.

Lambert lets that settle over him for a moment. He still feels a little sick, but inexplicably he feels better, now that Aiden is in this with him. He pauses for a second of it. Now that he’s aware Aiden is in this with him. “Well, no one is allowed to beat me but you.”

“Deal. Hey, what did I tell you?”

Lambert groans. Aiden tells him lots of things, and his brain is not exactly cooperating with him at the moment. “I don’t know.”

Aiden nudges him with his elbow and gives him a meaningful raise of his eyebrow. “No, I think you do. Go on, don’t be afraid to admit it.”

What it must be pops into his head, and Lambert heaves a long suffering sigh, and he hopes it's one he’s going to be continuing to give for quite a while. “You’re the number one wiener eater.”

Aiden beams.

#the witcher #lambert #aiden #lambden #modern au #humor #contemplative writing

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extasiswings · 4 years ago

Text

you make my heart beat

I played myself...anyway, if you’re interested in the post that inspired this, it’s here, asking how I would write a forgotten first meeting + hospital AU. Also on ao3 here. Have about 2k of Buck and nurse!Eddie set between seasons 2 and 3.

Eddie is at the reception desk reading a chart when a cup of coffee slides over the counter and settles by his forearm. He glances up—

“Usually it’s the doctors bringing me bribes, not the patients,” he says, a small smile curving his lips. “Last I checked, you didn’t have charts for me to transcribe for you—what’s this for then?”

Buck shrugs and leans forward, elbows on the counter.

“Who says it’s a bribe? I can’t just do something nice for my favorite nurse?”

Eddie closes the chart and picks up the cup—his eyes slip closed as espresso and cinnamon bursts across his tongue, and he barely holds back a groan—fuck, but it’s been a long shift.

“Thank you,” he replies. “Did I know you were coming in today?”

Buck shakes his head. “Last minute check-up. Got new scans on Monday—if everything looks good, Dr. Graves should clear me to take my recertification test.”

There’s a hopeful note in his tone even as Eddie catches the flicker of nervousness that passes through his eyes, and Eddie thinks about running into him a few months earlier, about I don’t know who I am without the uniform, and reaches out. His hand curves around Buck’s elbow where it rests on the counter—it makes his breathing go a little unsteady, touching Buck without the justification and distance provided by clinical professionalism, but the touch elicits a soft smile that does funny things to his heart, so Eddie can’t quite regret it either.

“That’s really great, Buck,” he says quietly. “I’m happy for you.”

One of the new residents comes around the corner and Eddie clears his throat as he pulls back his hand.

“I guess I know what the bribe was for then,” he teases, trying to push them back to their prior, lighthearted zone. “You just wanted me to do your work-up instead of Shirley.”

Buck laughs. “Can you blame me?” He asks. “She’s mean and her hands are always cold.”

“You complain that I’m mean all the time,” Eddie shoots back as he logs into the computer to check Buck in.

“Yeah, well, maybe I—” Buck cuts himself off and Eddie glances up in time to catch the flush darkening his cheeks. There are a lot of ways that sentence could end and all of them make his own face heat.

Maybe it’s silly—he’s an adult, he’s single, he gets flirted with all the time, even, or maybe especially by Buck, he shouldn’t get flustered. But it’s because it is Buck and not just any random patient or family member that he does. Because Eddie doesn’t know what he’s doing but he wants—

He busies himself grabbing a clipboard and a check-in form and clears his throat again before looking up.

“Come on, I’ll take you back.”

“Thanks, Eddie,” Buck replies, and his smile is back, the soft one. It’s only because Eddie’s distracted by it that he notices the way it twists into a grimace when Buck takes a step.

Eddie’s brow furrows. “You okay?”

Buck waves him off. “Fine, just—I’ve been training a lot so I can take my test as soon as I’m cleared. Must have pulled a muscle or something. Twinged a little is all.”

Eddie makes a note on the clipboard and Buck groans.

“No, come on—I pulled a muscle, I’m fine, you don’t have to write that down.”

“Maybe you pulled a muscle, maybe it’s nothing—regardless, Dr. Graves should know that you’re having leg pain just in case,” Eddie says. He pauses and narrows his eyes. “You weren’t going to tell him.”

“Because it’s nothing,” Buck insists. “Come on, Nurse Diaz, isn’t there some saying about hearing hoofbeats and thinking horses, not zebras?”

Eddie steers Buck down the hall to an exam room.

“Yeah, sure. I’ve heard it,” he replies.

“So?”

“So…” They step through the door and Eddie nods at the exam table before reaching for a blood pressure cuff. “There are a lot of very common things that could be causing pain in a limb that you’ve had multiple surgeries on, only one of which is that you pulled a muscle, and some of which could be serious. No zebras required. I’m not taking the note off the chart and you’re not going to lie when you get asked about it, okay?”

He fastens the cuff around Buck’s arm and presses a button to start the reading—he can’t help the way his lips twitch at Buck’s exasperated look.

“Little pressure,” he adds, and Buck rolls his eyes.

“I should have taken my chances with Shirley,” Buck grumbles.

“Yeah, well, if there’s a next time you can bring her coffee instead—I hear she likes hazelnut lattes.”

The cuff loosens, the monitor beeps. Eddie scribbles down the number. It’s a little high—Eddie glances over, takes in the tension in Buck’s shoulders, and bites his cheek.

“It’ll be okay,” he says, even though he usually tries to avoid promising patients anything. “Best case, they run a few more scans and waste a couple hours of your afternoon to find out that you’re right and perfectly fine. Worst case, something’s wrong and they catch it now and fix it and you’re still on track to get back to work, just maybe a couple weeks later than you planned.”

“It’s already been five months,” Buck sighs, his fingers raking through his hair.

“I know it’s frustrating—”

“How’s Christopher?” Buck interrupts, and Eddie levels him with a sharp look for the obvious deflection, but allows the subject change as he logs into the exam room computer.

“He’s good,” he replies. “Great, actually. Keeps asking about you—he, uh, he had a really great time the other day, even if it was just hanging around here. I can’t thank you enough for watching him.”

It’s not something Eddie normally would have done at all, but his abuela had a fall, Pepa had to go back to work, he couldn’t take off because they were already short-staffed with three other nurses out with the flu—

And Buck had just…been there. Finished with his physical therapy and offering to stick around so Eddie could finish his shift, all smiles and no judgment, and after five months…well, they’re something like friends, right? They're...something, anyway.

“He’s an amazing kid, and it was the best day I’ve had in…awhile, actually,” Buck admits. “You really don’t have to keep thanking me. I would do it again any time.”

I do, though, Eddie thinks, but he bites it back. He bites back, I’d like that, too.

He finishes filling in the intake information and steps back.

“You should be all set. The doctor will be in any minute.” He pauses before he reaches the door. Swallows.

“Find me after?” He asks. “Let me know how it goes? I’m on until four.”

“I’ll find you,” Buck promises. “Have to say I told you so when it turns out I just pulled a muscle.”

“I’ll be glad to hear it,” Eddie replies. He gets one more smile to sustain him before he walks out, leaving Buck behind.

He’ll see Buck later.

Except…he doesn’t. The rest of his shift passes without another sign of the other man and the gnawing worry in his gut worsens. The exam room is empty when he checks, he doesn’t have any new pages or texts—it would be easy to pull Buck’s chart and find out if something happened, but that feels like it would cross a line when it’s not strictly necessary—

He shoots off a text of his own, but there’s still no reply by the time he’s showered and changed out of his scrubs.

It’s happenstance that he runs into Dr. Graves’ favorite resident outside the locker room.

“Hey, Cassie—Graves had a patient today, Evan Buckley? I did the intake, and I was wondering—”

“Oh, he was admitted,” she says. “Room 312, I think.”

Eddie’s stomach drops. Sometimes he hates being right.

“Thanks,” he says faintly. She gives him a distracted hum, preoccupied by responding to a text, and Eddie heads to the elevators.

“Hey,” he greets a few minutes later, leaning against the doorway in Buck’s room. His hands are shoved in his pockets and he’s not entirely sure whether to cross the threshold.

Buck looks…tired. Frustrated. Upset. Raw. He tries to cover it when he sees Eddie, but it doesn’t fully work.

Eddie’s heart aches.

“Blood clots,” Buck sighs with a rueful shrug. “On the screws in my leg. They said it was lucky they caught it before one broke off and traveled anywhere, or it could have killed me. Guess you saved my life, Nurse Diaz.”

“Well…” Eddie weighs his hesitation against his desire to be closer and ultimately pushes off the doorframe to step inside. “You are my favorite patient. Who else is going to bring me coffee if you died?”

“Oh, I’m sure a lot of people would be more than happy to do that,” Buck replies. “I’m picturing a line around the block here.”

Eddie settles into the chair next to the bed.

“I think you’re vastly overestimating there, but—” Eddie wets his lips as he meets Buck’s gaze. Fuck, he’s not good at this, but he would do just about anything to bring Buck’s smile back. “—but, for whatever it’s worth, I wouldn’t want anyone else to.”

“Because I’m your favorite patient?” The look in Buck’s eyes is hopeful but wary, the kind of look that says despite his easy flirtations, he’s been burned before and expects to be again. And maybe it’s that honest vulnerability that finally unsticks Eddie’s tongue because when he opens his mouth to respond, what comes out is—

“You’re not just a patient, Buck. Not to me. You have to know that.”

“Do I?”

The skepticism feels like a challenge and Eddie rises to it by leaning in—he slides his fingers into Buck’s hair and closes the gap, kissing him once, twice, as Buck makes a startled sound against his lips and curls his own fingers into Eddie’s shirt to kiss him back.

“I don’t do that with just anyone,” Eddie breathes when he pulls back. “And I definitely don’t let them meet my son. Clear enough?”

Buck clears his throat, and nods, flushed and a little dazed in a way that makes Eddie bite back a grin.

“Speaking of, I have to go pick him up, but…” Eddie steals another kiss. “I’ll come see you tomorrow? And maybe we can…talk about this a little more?”

“I’d like that,” Buck admits. “And—Eddie—I—” His throat works as he swallows.

“Thank you,” he says finally. “For not letting me brush it off.”

Eddie’s thumb rubs against the edge of Buck’s jaw before he finally drops his hand.

“I care about you. Part of that means wanting to see you care about yourself,” he replies. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”

Buck looks like he might argue with that, but ultimately just tugs Eddie in for one final kiss before releasing him.

“Tell Christopher I said hi.”

“I will.”

#chapel writes #buddie #buddie fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #you're all horrible enablers

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