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squad3-sevcase · 2 years

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I Know Your Heart (11) One Minute [part three] | Chicago Fire Fanfic

Summary: Becker and Kelly reconcile on Halloween night.

Warnings: General Chicago Fire warnings apply. Read at your own discretion.

A/N: I ended this episode here for a reason. Things are getting good. I've added this to the mature community labels, make sure you have the proper labels allowed so you don't miss out!

🏷️: @campingmonkey @fullwattpadmusictree @fictionlover100 @deardelicatedamage @marvelatthetwilight

After taking the afternoon off of her shift to sort herself out, Becker kept her outpatient appointment with Hallie at Lakeshore Memorial to have her stitches removed.

She hoped that she would feel calmer when she walked out than she did the last time she saw Matt, but she only felt the case against Justin Voight taking more and more from her. She expected things to change for the better once she told her brother but it was only getting worse. And Hallie's reassurance that her arm healed nicely with minimal scarring had done little to set Becker's worries at ease.

Halloween wasn't quite what she thought it would be. Usually, she loved the holiday. . .spending the evening helping her building's doorman, Miles hand out candy to the children who lived there if their parents allowed it. But tonight she was heading over to Kelly and Shay's for drinks, to help him run interference after Shay's run-in with an ex-girlfriend. And as a way for him to keep an eye on her, she knew.

Her phone went off in her pocket with a text from Kelly updating her on Shay's condition post-Clarice-reunion and Becker giggled, shooting off a quick reply:

Sev: Hey. Are you on your way? Shay is busting out the liquor and I am not prepared to handle Drunk and Heartbroken Shay on my own.

Just finished with Hallie. Keep her talking, you'll be fine. I'm on my way.

A piece of paper stuck under one of the windshield wipers caught her attention as she approached her coal-black pickup truck. She figured it was left out of courtesy, someone must have swiped the side of her truck and dinged the door again. It was a common thing, happened a few times before and was no big deal. She plucked the note from under the wiper blade and unfolded it, her heart skipped a beat as she scanned the words scrawled on the thin piece of paper: Get your brother to drop the charges. Or this little game becomes a lot worse.

Becker swallowed. She looked around; the parking lot was empty except for patients and staff coming and going. She carefully checked the driver's door, it was still locked and no one appeared to be inside. She cleared the truck bed, finding it empty as well. She was alone.

She crumpled the note and put it in her pocket. Another text from Kelly came in:

Sev: Bec? Everything ok? Starting to get a little worried. Call me.

Yeah, yeah. I had Hallie check my wrist. I'm leaving now. Relax, Kel.

The drive to Kelly and Shay's condo provided Becker enough time to decide whether or not she finally wanted to tell them about her involvement with Detective and Justin Voight. On the one hand, having someone else to rely on for moral support who wasn't close to the incident was a good thing. But on the other, she was terrified of what could happen to them once they knew. She had yet to discover the extent of what Voight was capable of. She wasn't sure if she could live with herself if Kelly and Shay got hurt because of her too.

Becker spent the elevator ride up to their floor mulling over her options. She decided to wait and see how things panned out over the next few days, to just enjoy what was left of their evening and worry about the rest later.

The bell chimed signalling her arrival and as the doors opened, she left it all behind for one more night. Becker sent a quick text to Kelly, letting him know she'd be right outside their door in less than two minutes to relieve him of his Drunk and Heartbroken Shay duties. She was too wrapped up in the back and forth between them to notice the person rushing by, and nearly bumped into a sobbing woman in a trenchcoat.

“Oh, sorry. That's my bad for not watching where I'm going,” Becker said, politely stepping out of the way. “Nicki?”

She was shocked to see the young woman standing in front of her. She guessed what was or wasn't underneath the coat, and put it together that Nicki had likely just come from Kelly's place. It was the look of rejection on her face and the way she scrambled to wipe away the tears that almost had Becker feeling sorry for her. She felt the heat of jealousy from earlier that afternoon slowly crawl its way back under her skin, burrowing deeper the longer she and Nicki stayed in each other's presence.

Nicki's face twisted in self-pitying disgust, and she wiped a sleeve down the side of her cheek. She sneered, “Figures. Of course, he called you. Did you know?”

“I'm sorry?” Becker blinked confused.

“Did you know when I asked him out. . . Did you know that Kelly was engaged before?”

Becker's confusion melted away into the desire to protect her best friend's heart from further damage. She balled her hands into fists at her sides, if getting into a fight with that woman would accomplish anything, she'd break her face in a heartbeat. But she had crossed the line too many times already, Nicki wasn't worth losing her job over.

“I― hold on. You don't get to be mad at me just because you got found out.”

“I asked you if you thought he'd go out with me, I―”

“Again, for the record, I wanted and tried to stay out of it.”

“So you did know, and you let me ask him out anyway. You must think I'm stupid,” Nicki's voice broke.

Becker laughed, dry and humourless, “No, I think you're a bitch. You knew you were engaged. Kelly was cheated on, you're the one doing the cheating. He's been where your fiancé is. So, you do the math.”

She headed down the hallway, she should've been at Kelly and Shay's by then. Instead, she was entertaining Nicki for the last time. She slowly carded her left hand through her hair, just to give herself something to do as she turned around to offer the woman one final piece of advice.

“You know, I was serious when I said we weren't friends. I told you it wouldn't be pretty if you hurt him, Nicki. And I told you I wouldn't be there to pick up the pieces for you when you did.” Becker stepped back, widening the gap between her and Nicki, drawing the line between them. “You might want to listen the next time someone tells you not to play games with their best friend's heart.”

Somehow Becker knew that wasn't exactly what her brother meant by getting her head on straight, but she was seeing things clearer than she had in days. She had a lot of apologies to make and a few people to seek forgiveness from. The CFD took care of its own and Becker may have lost sight of that for a moment.

She rounded the last corner in the hallway, feeling the weight begin to lift from her shoulders. Confronting Nicki helped her face the worst parts of herself and she finally felt the world starting to shift back into place. She pulled her keys out of her pocket and looked up to find Kelly leaning against the doorframe.

Kelly's eyes searched Becker's and for a moment neither was sure what to say. The knowing smile on his face told her that he had heard most―if not all―of what she'd said to Nicki, and her cheeks warmed under his gaze.

Becker played with her keychain, nervously rolling it between her fingers. “So. . .how long have you been standing there?”

He rubbed his left hand over the stubble on his chin. “Uh, long enough. Thanks for lookin' out for me, Bec,” he said, holding his hand out to her.

“Anytime, partner.” She let him pull her in for a hug.

That moment was the first time things between them had made sense all day and she relaxed into the familiarity of his presence. He pressed a kiss to her hair and rested his chin on top of her head; she breathed in the comfort of his cologne. Becker Casey knew one thing for certain, no matter what Voight tried to do, she had a family of people behind her who would stop at nothing to see justice served. She wouldn't go down without a fight.

Kelly tugged Becker inside and shut the door, whatever else they needed to say could wait.

Shay shuffled over, handing a glass of the various drink mixers she was messing with to Becker with a smile. It was clear then why Kelly wanted the three of them to have a night in; Shay was already two sheets to the wind and Becker guessed it was going to be a long night.

“It's good to have you back, Bec,” Shay slurred with a smile.

“It's good to be back, Les,” she answered. “Looks like you started the party without me, though. I'm offended.” She opened up her bag as Kelly took her glass and jacket, and retrieved smaller bags of theatre snacks and candy. “I brought snacks!”

Shay's eyes grew wide at the pile of junk food on the coffee table. “Whoa! When did you have the time to do this?”

Becker shrugged. “Right after Matt pulled me from the rest of my shift this afternoon. Kelly texted and said we needed to run ‘post-reunion interference’. So, I come bearing shitty chocolate, Rocky Road ice cream―Cookie Dough for me―and my stash of terrible horror films. We can do the I just broke up with the love of my life thing again or we can ignore it, drown our feelings in booze and junk food, and watch shitty movies. Your call.”

“Booze and junk food for 500,” Shay said, sinking into the couch cushions.

“Now that, I can do.” Kelly laughed, ignoring Shay's look of incredulity and handed her the pint of Rocky Road ice cream along with a spoon. He settled down in the middle of the couch, grabbing the Cookie Dough ice cream from the coffee table and two more spoons while Becker started the first of many movies they were sure to watch that night.

Becker took the remaining seat on Kelly's left and commenced their night of drowning their feelings in too much alcohol and sugar. It wasn't the usual way to spend Halloween, but it sure beat sitting at home alone, worrying about the things she couldn't control.

As the end credits for American Psycho rolled up the screen, Kelly turned the volume down. Shay had fallen asleep halfway through The Lost Boys, leaving Becker and Kelly to round out the evening with their favourite psychological thriller. He draped the blanket from the back of the couch over Shay's shoulders and leaned forward to grab the empty glasses and bowls from the coffee table.

“You want anything else?” he asked, taking the dishes to the kitchen.

“A beer if you have it?”

“Coming right up.” Kelly smiled. He watched Becker get settled on the couch again after switching over to the highlight reel of the week's baseball games. He wasn't entirely sure if he should mention that he found the note in her jacket pocket or wait for her to bring it up. They'd been keeping a lot of secrets from each other lately.

Shay sat up from her end of the couch, cutting Kelly's thoughts short. “Ow. Fuck. That's gonna hurt in the morning. I'm going to bed,” she said, holding the heel of her right hand to her temple. She headed for the stairs, calling back over her shoulder, “Thanks, you guys. . .for tonight. I owe you.”

Becker shook her head. “No, you don't. You're our best friend, we've got your back. Always. Get some sleep, see you tomorrow.”

Shay smiled softly and disappeared up the stairs.

That was one of the things Kelly loved about Becker―she knew how to cheer everyone up regardless of her own feelings. He retrieved two beers from the refrigerator and popped the lids on both, leaving them discarded next to the dirty bowls for now, then rejoined Becker in the living room.

“Thanks,” she said with a soft smile. It was then Kelly realized how much he'd missed her that day. Between her attitude that morning and being relieved of duty for the rest of her shift, he hadn't seen much of her at all.

He took a drink of his beer and settled back against the cushions. “Are we gonna talk about what the hell happened today?”

“Depends on what you want to know,” she said.

Kelly sighed, the ball was in his court. “How about we start with why you were avoiding me? Why you iced me out all day?”

“The truth?” she asked, looking up at his expectant green eyes.

He nodded. “The truth.”

“I let Vargas get inside my head. He was so sure that you were in a bad mood when I got there, he warned me not to do anything that would make it worse. After what you found out about Nicki I figured he was right.”

“Come on, Bec. You know me better than that.”

“I know. It's just been a weird few days. Shit with Matt isn't helping either. There's still a lot I'm not ready to talk about. But who we are and who we've always been, I kind of forgot that for a moment.”

“Well, don't forget it again. Squad works the way it does because we work the way we do. I can't do this without you, MC. You're my partner.”

“You know, speaking of working the way we do, when has an acceptable amount of time passed for me to say I told you so?”

Kelly narrowed his eyes at Becker and lifted the bottle to his lips again. Of course, she wasn't going to let him live down one of the most reckless mistakes he'd made since she had known him―she wouldn't be Becker Casey if she did. He shook his head. “Mnh-mnh, don't start with me, Casey.”

Becker laughed, deep and full and complete. And Kelly wanted to lose himself to the sound of her voice. “What? Oh, come on. You know I was right all along. Nikki was bad for you, but that's not entirely your fault.”

“Yeah? Is that what you were telling her in the hallway?”

“Heh, yeah, uh. . .so-something like that. How much of it did you hear?”

As Becker looked down at her hands, Kelly's heart seized for a moment. It had become a strange song and dance between the two of them, and he wasn't sure if they would ever go beyond the casual flirting or cleaning up each other's messes. Becker had been right about Nicki, she was right about a lot of things lately, Kelly didn't want to lose sight of that.

Whoever had left the note that he'd found in her pocket knew more than he did and he wasn't sure he liked that. Kelly and Becker didn't keep secrets unless they needed to; he had to wonder what she was hiding and why it was so important to hide it from him. In the meantime, he was more than relieved to have his best friend back.

“Only as much as you want me to.”

#chicago fire fanfiction #one chicago fanfiction #kelly severide fanfiction #matt casey fanfiction #chicago fire series #i know your heart series

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montreal-derogatory · 10 months

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coming here to scream into the void. this is unlike most of my personal posts, but I just need to get shit out of my body.

context to know about me: i’m 24 and live with my parents. i have adhd, depression, and anxiety that is only getting worse. i work as a server. i was also raised mormon, aka taught from birth to give up my soul and all time that i wasnt working for money to do acts of service/free labor. i have left but no one else in my family has except a couple extended relatives.

i love my grandparents very much, and i’m very lucky that all of them live within a 30 mile radius of me, so i see everyone who is still with us quite frequently.

the only problem is pretty much all of them started to have failing health within the last year, and it’s having a significant impact on the entire family, both emotionally and with time commitment.

with my mom’s mom, we took care of her for a long time when she was more independent, but came to a mutual decision to take her to an assisted living community once her health took a sharp decline and she had to start dialysis. the facility we ended up deciding was best (and pretty much every other facility around here) does not have medical/appointment transportation available on the days for her dialysis appointments. this upped/changed my responsibility of taking her to and from physical therapy once a week to taking her to dialysis 3 times a week. pickup is my mom’s responsibility generally, but i am also sometimes asked to do pickup if i’m available. one time i was not available but my family was out of town (did not tell me far enough in advance to get work off) and i ended up having to leave work in the middle of the dinner rush for an hour to go pick up my grandma because i couldn’t get work covered.

on the other side of my family, both of my grandparents have a hard time accepting help with anything other than hard labor for their hobbies like gardening. working on getting them into a facility where they could actually act more independently than they did before is a near impossible act. it makes sense, they don’t want to leave their home of 40 years where they have animals and a garden. then again, my aunt has lived with them pretty much her whole adult life, at least as long as i’ve been alive, so she’s kind of taken on the mantle of caretaker for them in their old age. when she leaves to travel, it falls on us to take shifts of caregiving, and it becomes crystal clear exactly how much work she’s doing. this past year within weeks of each other my grandma started showing signs of dementia and my grandfather had a few physical illnesses that ended up severely impacting his mental health for weeks to now being at the VA home indefinitely and wheelchair bound. luckily he is now getting the care he needs, but my grandmother is still at her house and now has new things that need taking care of.

now brings me to the whole reason for me to make this post. i tonight was asked if i could make another 3 day a week commitment for the next 6-7 weeks to help my paternal grandmother get to appointments, despite openly stating that im applying for another job and am already mentally drowning with the workload i already have (which is not a ton for the average person but i’m having extreme difficulty taking care of myself and ever decreasing spoons). The schedule i’ve set with work accomodates for maternal grandmother care and dnd to keep me sane, but loading on more just leaves even more holes in my schedule and will rob me of 1 of 3 days i have available for a new job.

the irony is my parents want me to be working twice as much as i am now, but also doing all of this grandparent care, and also functioning like my neurotypical siblings at home, but ask me what im doing to improve my mental health. like you pick two between working 40 (or even 35) hours a week, improvement in mental health, increased contribution at the house, and grandparent care.

on top of allll of this i also applied to nail school next year so i can have sone kind of accreditation under my belt which is something i havent even tried to figure out how to work in at this point.

i know i probably sound ungrateful and whiney. that’s ok with me. my mental health is kicking my ass and it feels like im drowning with thicker and thicker ice blocking me from air. (side note, if anyone has any tips for rebuilding a lost habit of taking medication , i would appreciate it.) it is very important to note that the actual care of my grandparents is not an issue for me. i’m glad i get to see them so often, and take time to take care of them. it’s hard watching them decline, but that’s part of greif. the frustrating part is i feel as though my time is not being respected, and also feel as though i’m expected to burn through what precious billable hours i can get (and handle taking) with the hourly work i have to do because it’s the only thing im qualified for. i feel as though i’m being viewed more as a driving tool than as a complex person with complex needs who barely has enough mental energy to devote to getting out of bed every day. not even getting ready, just physically standing up. i’ve been mourning people who are not yet in the grave, and struggling to keep up even the appearance of functionality.

anyway that’s pretty much my letter to the void, i may edit later, we’ll see. if you read, thanks for listening.

#tw mental health #tw religion #tw dementia #tw dialysis #tw drowning mention

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mayflyuniverse · 2 years

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felt like i spoke too much on my private twt so i’m retreating to my tumblr lol.

I am a little sad about the (suspected) stress-induced rash under my lips. It’s still a little small, but I’m hoping it doesn’t spread. It feels a bit like a see-saw between my mental and physical health. When I have a handle on one of them, the other one acts out... Balancing it gets tougher when there’s so much happening... Hopefully things die down soon but otherwise, all I can do is hold on, I guess.

I’m guessing the stress this time around is the lack of time to work, combined with financial situations, then the fact that I’ve been eating a LOT of fast food at my parents whenever I’m there, along with the whole shctick talking to big sis about paying the damages she made on car, not to mention the fact that I’ve found her guest all alone downstairs, bored while she was on call with her japanese pseudo-bf... My malfunctioning keyboards that i’ve had to replace by using advance instalment payments, my maxed out credit card, the upcoming website hosting/domain name/Gdrive subscription payments that will be due...... Then there’s the bit where there’s the appointment with youngest sis’ school principal about the bully in her class making inappropriate comments about me far too often to her (i know, wild), then finally there’s the bit where I just have yet to catch up on rest ever since New Year’s...

I mean this is not counting the bits on the side about projects and jobs i’ve applied to that I’m hoping to get within the new year since my other commercial projects are still stalled and there’s no news when it’ll be ready, unfortunately.

I mean, all around stress, but I’m not in a constant state of anxiety, which is good but I guess it manifests itself elsewhere physically.

I read up and apparently it’ll go away on it’s own if you don’t aggravate it within weeks or months. So i’m hoping, latest, by the middle of the year, i’ll be rid of this stinging and burning;;;

Hopefully, within like.. by 6th of next month, mum will be healed of her fractured toe completely that she can drive again and I’ll be relieved of driving duties soon. That would mean I’ll finally get my working hours back..

I realise I’m emotionally fatigued in a lot of ways since December and I’ve just never had the chance to recover from it before the next thing that demands my attention piles on. At least one of my younger sisters are kidn enough to help forward payment for groceries so I am still keeping to eating... and she does help with some of the driving when I request her to @@;; so things could be worse, all things considered...

I just keep telling myself “sunflowers face the sun” because it’s a phrase that reminds me i can keep keeping my head above water if I just make sure to get my thinking right. I’ll cry when I need to, be upset when I need to but. I’ve got to keep my wits about me. Just until february-- just until I can get back to my usual routine.

Anyways, if I stress more than I already am, my whole body’s going to breakdown, I can feel it :,)) and I’d like to keep away from hospital visits for the time being.....

AH! though! I did sign up for online therapy that is affordable... I’m waiting for them to get back to me but.. I’m hoping this might help with the burden in the upcoming year. I’m a tad anxious since I haven’t been to counseling in a while but, I have only good feelings about it. We’ll see how it goes.

For now, I’ve finished my yoga and I’m rewarding myself by watchign a little JCC Y_Y Mr. Suh is truly all that is holding me and my sanity together lmfao. after that, it’s time to get ready and go out uuu.. let’s !!! *punches air* get. this!!! *punches air even more*. done and over with!!!

#mayflybuzz

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inkskinned · 3 years

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i hated - hated - my 7th grade english teacher, but he did say something that has stuck with me this whole time: the actual mark of maturity in someone is whether they take responsibility.

over time, this has become something i find to apply to too-many things. this weighty, complicated thing - responsible. almost direct from the latin respondere - the verb for "to answer to".

taking responsibility is not just "being in control of". it also means being gentle. being able to apologize. being able to accept fault. to notice your own actions and change them to be better. it is not just saying "ah fuck i dropped the plate," it is saying "okay, i'll go get the broom."

at 16, when her parents tell her i put a roof over your head, she spends that night curled in my lap, sobbing, trying to articulate something too-heavy-for-words - that they think responsibility is just about obligation; that she is bound to them because they are responsible for her. that she feels, over and over, responsible for their emotions. that she spends hours cartwheeling over eggshells, feeling the drip of their expectations slowly sushing down her body.

according to my mom, responsibility and privilege are partners. this is probably true. a car (privilege) is a weapon if used (responsibility) incorrectly. my dog is my responsibility, and he brings me the privilege of hours spent in sunshine. there are, though, a lot of times people are given one without the other - the privilege, and no responsibility for their actions. the responsibility, and nothing but hours of obligation, over-and-over. i have also learned: there is a difference between fault and responsibility. this will be important for you at some point, if you are watching.

at 21, when i am begging him again to just listen, i am asking him to take responsibility for the span of our relationship. for the ways he has shoved thorns into every part of my body. i come across as needy, because it is my job to be responsible for the relationship - somehow, he has escaped that. it is always my job to ask for help. to beg for him to just put in any-ounce-of-more.

how easily responsibility becomes assumed. it is the responsibility of the [ ] to take care of dinner. it is the responsibility of the [ ] to get groceries, to clean the house, to mealplan, to do laundry. it is the responsibility of the [ ] to wear smart clothing. it is the responsibility of the [ ] to blend in with the rest of society.

at 25, it is happening again. this is a different man in a different city, and the responsibility is one that is demanded of me. he tells me he will skip off the world and into the darkness if i break his heart, no matter how much he breaks mine. i am back to begging - get help, get better, i cannot lift you if you do not try to stand with me. i am also responsible for myself - and then, suddenly, responsible for the entire life of somebody. i remember sitting there asking him - when will it be your turn to do the carrying? and the way he wrinkled his nose at me. i would laugh-cry: i feel like i'm your mother and he would start gagging. nothing would change. still running after him, making sure he washed his clothes and took care of himself and made those appointments and did anything. my own health was suffering.

a lot of discussion about consequence is really a discussion of responsibility. i am an internet poet. i made a little hellsite my unfortunately-unpaid home. i believe, in my heart of hearts - make what you want, but be responsible for it. whenever we make things, we are bound to them, end of story. this is a real-life thing. watch who in your life hates having responsibility. watch the way they expect other people to have responsibility. this sense they have: that responsibility is punishment, is unfair to unload on them. that someone else should do the carrying.

i am 26 at the start of 2020. we all know what happens then. the average person is asked to take responsibility. for many, this is second-nature. simple. occasionally annoying, but eventually habitual. for many others, though, this is their great and honest reckoning. they misunderstand civil liberty to mean - a land where everything, always, is just-about-me. on a personal level, when i am not absolutely livid about this population, i am sort-of sad for them. one of the good things about responsibility is that it builds community. each of these people, one at a time, has been making the same statement: i am alone in this world. i am blisteringly, horribly lonely.

i have noticed, over time - the way that responsibility is borne. how careful i have to be as a queer cuban writer. how careful some asshole on twitter is-not-careful-at-all. knowing that if i am too-loud. abrasive, unflattering: i could make my whole community responsible for my behavior. that people would read my work and say - see! this is why there aren't that many of these types of writers. that others can make bigger, bolder mistakes - but it will just be their mistake to make; their-singular-responsibility. that what i am "careful" about is making my posts well-researched, thought-out, accessible, funny. that what others are rabidly angry about being careful about - that they would suddenly become responsible for bigotry. this horrible sense: you have no idea what it means to be forced to bear this weight, and you find it terrifying.

i have been responsible for a long time. laughing, i tell my therapist eldest daughter, middle child syndrome. i was a latchkey kid. i was the first one home and had to be sure i got the fire lit or there wasn't heat. written like that, it sounds like something from charles dickens: alone, shivering in a house that isn't home, feeding tinder to the back of the wood stove. i have been a delight to have in class. i was always charmingly responsible. i have had-to-be. there was no other option.

burnout is high, i'm told. over and over, the media paints people like me as being responsible for how we are treated. they will say it's not your fault, but we all know they think it is my responsibility. people are violent to me; it is my responsibility to be a more properly-trained minority. my boss is cruel; it's my responsibility to find a new job or just go hungry. it is not the responsibility of others to help me figure out my medical debt, i should try asking more questions at the pharmacy. it is not the responsibility of public schools to help students get an education - it is the responsibility of 17-year-olds to sign into a lifetime of debt. it is not the responsibility of the government to protect my right to choose; it's my responsibility to simply not get into any situation that might require me having an opinion. it's satisfying to watch the general, quiet strike of minimum-wage workers: the way others, confused, are demanding the same question - why aren't other people taking responsibility for the things i don't want to do myself?

the other day, i saw a post from someone who hurt me. it was sort of embarrassingly on-the-nose. he's kissing someone new now (god protect her). under the two of them smiling, the caption reads: thank you to this responsible, beautiful queen for constantly taking care of me.

now be honest. answer the following. fill in the blanks. bring your truth to your throat and keep her. 1. in general, it is normal for a [ ] to have more responsibility than a [ ]. 2. you are responsible for [ ]. 3. when you tell [ ] to take responsibility, they will say [ ]. 4. in your life, it is normal for [ ] to take responsibility. 5. when did that start? 6. and how is it going?

#spilled ink #poetry #poem #responsibility #this got away from me

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sukirichi · 3 years

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reckless [02.]

With a lackadaisical playboy as your boss, being reckless wasn’t an option. But on the one time you let loose and made mistakes, your life is shattered, and now you’re playing house with your insufferable boss who is the father of your baby.

✘ cw. angst, toxic situations

✘ note. yes, feel free to scream at me in the asks. but like don’t worry, i promise there’s more to come and there’s more to happen! it’s going to get fluffier as we go hehehehe. ALSO, I can’t help but feel that Zayn’s “Let Me” speaks perfectly to CEO playboy Gojo. hmph.

one ✘ two ✘ three

One glance at the tall man beside you, and you would’ve thought he would pass out soon.

Satoru had been endlessly fidgety hours before the appointment. Flicking from music stations to another, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel or sighing at the sight of you calmly watching the city go by in a flash – it was clear he was restless. Judging from the dark circles he tried to conceal under a pair of shades, he probably hadn’t slept much last night as well.

Now that you were both inside the clinical room, with you laying back down on the reclined bed, belly exposed and all for him to marvel at, his knee hadn’t stopped bouncing. “Satoru, calm down. It’s just a doctor’s appointment.”

“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants. “I’m just…excited yet nervous, you know? It feels so real now.”

Real didn’t begin to cover it. Although you masked your nervous quite well, you felt your stomach tighten when a woman came in. Her smile was gentle and comforting enough, talking you both through the process and spilling little fun facts about pregnancy. She applied a cool gel over your belly before turning to a screen, where mixed dots and waves of black and white blurred in front of your visions. Your eyes widened in awe, throat dry from the inability to speak. The baby had always felt real, but seeing it with your own two eyes, a small figure barely even a comprehensible shape in the screen, you couldn’t help but tear up a little.

“That’s mine?” Satoru breathed out, absentmindedly looping his hands through yours. It made you stiffen for a quick second, but your attention was quickly pulled back to the sonogram. “We made that?”

Your heart clenched at his words.

He sounded so happy – like all his dreams came true and you’d just given him a gift that was beyond priceless. You supposed it really was; a baby was always a miracle and joy to have, but this child wasn’t made out of love. How could he have so much fondness for something he didn’t want in the first place?

“The baby is perfectly healthy. This pregnancy doesn’t seem like a high-risk one, but it’s too early to tell so we’ll keep checking in on you,” the doctor pushed her glasses back to her nose, the sound of her cool voice pulling you back from a dangerous path of self-doubt and wariness. “Do you guys want to know the gender?”

Glancing at Satoru, you shook your head. It was amusing that you didn’t need to share words before he got the meaning behind one look, and he squeezed your hand as if to say he understood.

“I’d like that to be more of a surprise. Thank you, doctor.”

“Congratulations on being a father, Sir,” she bowed, and it occurred to you just now she was probably a family doctor. Satoru did end up keeping his promise that your pregnancy be kept private for a while. This little detail made you turn to him with shock written all over your face, though his attention was centred in on the swirling monochrome colours on the screen. Whether the doctor noticed the brewing tension between you two or not, you were still gad when they bowed once more to excuse themselves. “I’ll leave you two to talk now.”

The moment she was gone, you sat up and pushed your blouse down. Satoru’s demeanour had changed as well. His smile was wiped from his face, replaced only by a slight downturn of his lips.

Sighing, you swung your legs over the bed, not minding one bit that he was inches away from resting his chin onto your thighs. “Is there something you’re not telling me? You’ve been so worried since we got here.”

Satoru winced.

“Am I that obvious?”

“Even if you aren’t, it’s not that hard to see through you,” you spoke gently, a spirit possessing you because there would’ve been no other logical reason on why you placed a palm over his. Satoru’s hands were warm and large as he cupped your knee, tracing little patterns over your jeans as he kept his gaze lowered to the floor. It was an odd sight to see; that the Gojo Satoru refused to look a woman in the eye. “Tell me. What’s wrong?”

Satoru’s sigh is painfully drawn out, though his chuckles took the brunt.

“I don’t know what to do – how to be a father, I mean. Don’t you ever get worried…that maybe we might fuck up and ruin someone’s life?”

“Hey,” you cupped his cheek, forcing him to look you in the eyes – which you really wished he didn’t, because you’d never seen such azure this up close before. It was no secret that his eyes alone stole the hearts of people, but you had to remind yourself he broke them as well, so that you pulled away right before he got too close for comfort. It wasn’t what he needed anyway. Satoru simply required reassurance, so you opted for an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Weren’t you the one telling me the other day we’ll work it out?”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head, a smile lighting up his features once more. “Are you feeling good? There’s someplace I want to take you, as a celebration for our healthy baby.”

You pursed your lips. As much as you appreciated his enthusiasm, this ‘celebration’ didn’t sound like a good idea. You’ve made mistakes before and now you lived the consequence of it; being reckless was outdated. Caution, wariness, and space were the top three perfect recipes for the complete opposite of a disaster.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Why not?” he challenged, taking your hand in his as he guided you out the clinic. You made no comment on why he led you out the back where he’d parked his car, even going as far to bow for you as he opened your door. “Liven up a little, we got good news today! Plus, we didn’t both take a day for nothing. Come on, you’re going to have fun, I promise you!”

“And where would we go where people won’t recognize you?”

“Somewhere people are too lost in their own world to focus on others,” Satoru announced before sending you a side glance, smooth hands already on their way to rev the engine.

This wouldn’t go down well. Or at least that was what you wanted to believe, because his smile and excitement were too contagious that you couldn’t restrain the smile you wore.

“A carnival? Really? We’re too old for this.”

“We’re never too old for anything,” he insisted, placing his hands on your shoulders as he maneuvered from stall to stall. Everywhere around you, children and people of all ages milled by, laughter and screams that fading into the distance. One survey at the long, endless lines for the rides and crowded spaces, you grimaced, feeling an uncomfortable weight resting on your shoulders that was beyond Satoru’s hands. “Aw, come on, don’t be such a bore. Day offs like these are rare and think about the baby! Don’t you think they would’ve wanted us to get a long?”

“You’re just using the baby as an excuse to have fun.”

Of course he would – Gojo Satoru was like a man-child. Whether it was someone randomly bringing donuts or puppies into the office, he easily lit up like a firework, seemingly finding joy in every little thing. Being stuck in the office and forced to work his ass off under your supervision must’ve taken a toll on him too.

Add on the fact he hadn’t gone out on dates or parties ever since he found out he was going to be a dad, the desperation to go out and do something was written all over his face.

Satoru pouted. “That’s mean. Take that back.”

“No.”

“And I’m the childish one here?” he snickered. You merely rolled your eyes at him and gave in; too much time spent working and not enough time relaxing (not that being a carnival was your definition or relaxation, but alas, Satoru was dragging you around everywhere like always) wouldn’t be good for the baby.

“You see that bear over there? I’m going to win that for you. It could be my first ever present for our baby.”

There was no stopping him. You didn’t want to, either, because you just stood there, arms crossed against your chest as you let him do whatever he pleased. A literal man-child, a youthful soul stuck in an irritatingly attractive man’s body – these were the thoughts that ran through your head while Satoru kept swinging his arm back and forth. He chose a stall where you had to knock down stacks of cans down with one set of three balls, all because he wanted to win a bear. You would really rather go home than watch him fail four times now, but he wasn’t giving up, only flexing his shoulders before gesturing to the young man.

“Hey man, three more balls please.”

Nothing was funny about it at all. Watching your boss fail miserably even after ten tries shouldn’t have been so hilarious, yet sweat was dripping all over his face and his patience was hanging on a loose thread that you were giggling before you knew it.

His usual confident bravado began to tear down bit by bit, his face flushed from the sounds of your teasing.

“Satoru, stop,” you laughed, “We’ve been here for twenty minutes and your wallet might as well be empty! You can just go buy a bear at the mall.”

“You’re too functional. Where would be the meaning behind it if I just bought a random bear?” he huffed, pushing the sleeves of his denim jacket up to his elbows. Determined now more than ever, he even stretched his long arms side to the side with a shake of his hips. You could tell the young man manning the stall was hiding his amusement by whistling to himself, but Satoru really was such a ridiculous sight you couldn’t blame him. “No, I’m going to get that for you, then I’ll brag to my baby how cool their dad was when he knocked those cans down.”

“You mean, if you knock those cans down.”

His shoulders deflated. “Support me a little bit, will you?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, it might just inflate your ego and you’ll be too distracted by yourself to ever actually knock those cans down,” He threw a ball with a force so strong it hit the curtain above the cans, and it bounced back somewhere below the tables. It didn’t even touch the can by a smidge, and you snorted. “See what I mean?”

Expecting that Satoru would take insult to heart (as his ego was easily wounded, this much you knew when he refused to talk to anyone at the office for a whole day because one of his directors forgot his name) you smirked at him, but that smirk immediately dropped when he grinned back at you. He was no longer wimpy like before, an aura of confidence brimming from him. “That’s like the second time you’ve told me I was distracting,” he mused, leaving you baffled because he was right. “On the contrary, I think you’rea lot more distracting, so I take that back. Just stand there and watch me win.”

“Okay,” you drawled out in faux disinterest, thankful for the corny carnival music and chatter from the crowd that he couldn’t hear your poor beating heart.

You were too focused on pretending to be unbothered by him that you failed to see how the cans were knocked down. The counter guy was already picking them up as Satoru pumped his fists in the air, way too much like a child high on sugar.

Was this really the father of your baby?

“I won! I fucking won! That huge brown bear, please!”Satoru’s smile from holding the bear that was half his size couldn’t even compare to the city lights and sparklers. Even his eyes were lit up in joy as he skipped back to you, happily waving the doe-eyed bear in front of you. At your lack of reaction, he sighed before jutting his cheek out to you. “No congratulations kiss?”

“How about a slap?”

“Kinky,” he teased, sending your brain to overheat when he tapped his chin in thought. “Well, you did make my back bleed so I kind of got the idea you’re sort of extreme in bed – ow! Would you please stop hitting me? I just won you a wonderful prize and your first reaction is to hit me! This arm is exhausted from swinging endlessly, you know.”

“Maybe if you aimed better, you wouldn’t have had to exhaust yourself. Like I said, you could’ve just bought a bear,” you scolded, raising your arm threateningly when he opened his mouth again. Idiot. “Give me that.”

Satoru effortlessly swung the bear until it was under your chins, his white lashes ethereal as he peeked at you through them. He was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath dusting on your cheeks, that same warmth that had been mixing with yours in a sloppy, heated kiss just weeks ago. “And who said I was letting you carry this?” he taunted, thoroughly enjoying how for once, you weren’t hitting him.“I’m supposed to wave this around proudly then place it in our baby’s room when we get home. Besides, your hand looks heavy already.”

“My hands? Wait, what do you mean our baby’s room?”

At your words and questioning gaze, Satoru did a quick turn, trying to use the bear as a shield.

“Yeah, I forgot to tell you,” he scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “I may or may not have had my parents’ guest room renovated as a baby room, although if you ask me, I think moving somewhere else would be much better. Raising a child in a penthouse doesn’t seem like such a great idea if you ask me,” opening your mouth to scold him, Satoru stopped you by placing a finger on your lips, noses grazing against each other. “Don’t scold me right now; I know that look on your face and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, okay? We can still decorate it ourselves. I just had the beds removed and the space cleaned out. Now stop over thinking and let me help you with your problem.”

You pushed his face away for the sake of your heart. In fact, you should be paid for your acting skills for looking so unaffected.

“What problem?”

“Your hands look heavy,” he beamed, long fingers looping through yours as he swayed them side to side. “So let me carry it for you.”

“Satoru, I—”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he blinked innocently while surrendering his free hand, “I’m not doing this for you, it’s for the baby. Did you know oxytocin is released and makes you feel good and reduces pain, maybe even stress? We can pump your oxytocin levels through touch. It also lowers your blood pressure, and we want you at your happiest and healthiest for this pregnancy, right?”

“Since when were you an expert on this?”

“Since I found out I’m becoming a dad,” his words struck you speechless, mouth pressed into a flat line as you stared him openly. You hadn’t mean to come off as rude in that moment; you were just trying to gauge the sincerity behind his words, to explore the depth in his eyes, but Satoru must’ve took it wrong as he cleared his throat, “I can let go if you really want me to.”

“N-no! It’s fine…can we move? We’ve been standing here for ten minutes now,” Embarrassed, you pointed to the closest thing in your sight – a photo booth. “How about there? That looks fun.”

Satoru followed where your arm was pointed, laughing when a couple exited the red curtains while giggling amongst themselves. The guy even leaned down to steal a long kiss from his lover, and if you were embarrassed before, you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come back again right now. “You know, if you wanted me to be stuck in a cramped space next to you, you could’ve just said so. I didn’t bring the limo with me, but the Audi could be pretty small for us, I guess…”

You hissed at him in warning, “God, you never shut up do you?”

“It made you smile.”

“I wasn’t smiling!”

“Sure, mommy, whatever you say,” bumping his hip with yours, Satoru led you inside the cube. There were a plethora of filters to choose from; ranging from heart frames and ones that placed shades on your face. Not really thinking of what to pick, you reached out to press the frog hats one, but Satoru was swatting your hands away for the effect with heart emojis everywhere. “This is cute. We can show this to our baby once they’re born.”

“They won’t really know what a Polaroid is, Satoru.”

“It’s still sentimental!” he grumbled before clicking the camera icon, a huge smile already on his face until he saw you squished on the other side of the booth. Only one side of your ear could be seen, and Satoru furrowed his brows at you. “Come closer, you’ll be cropped from the frame.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Jesus, Y/N, don’t act shy now, I already fucked a baby into you,” mouth falling open at the vulgarity of his words, Satoru took the chance to drag you beside him. “Relax, you’re always so stiff. Our baby might come out frowning if you keep huffing like that.”

“You’re too close for comfort.”

“My apologies, I’ll try not to be included in the photo when you’re the one who suggested this in the first place,” he muttered playfully, booping your nose before he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He was close, too close, that his musky perfume filled the close space. You wanted to lean closer to his warmth and sturdiness of his broad shoulders; his mere presence bringing about a sense of tranquillity despite your words. You told yourself it shouldn’t be too bad to lean into him for just a little while, absentmindedly following him as he cheers, “Smile!”

One photo turned into two, and Satoru ended up inserting a few more bills into the slot to take more. He tried out as many filters as he wanted, acting as if you two had been long time friends from how easy it was for him to be around you like that.

You supposed it came from his heavy experience with women. You were so unlike; while he was open to touch and didn’t care too much about space, you craved it deliriously.

It was obvious none of this meant anything to Satoru. You were probably just another woman in his life, with the exception that you had a kid, but you couldn’t mean something more. If anything, he treated you more like an old friend than a lover. He’d said it himself before that you weren’t his type and you didn’t mind, so why did it hurt the longer you mulled about it? Sure, you may not be as attractive or luxurious as his previous lovers, but did you really not even have charismatic pull? Is it because you weren’t his type that he was so casual with you, while you on the other hand, felt like you would lose your mind at every little thing he did?

You watched as Satoru pulled out his wallet and kept the Polaroid of you both grinning at the camera, forming a silly heart shape with your hands per his request. It was silly and platonic – yet the gesture confused you to no end.

“Why’d you do that?”

Satoru’s hand paused. “Am I not allowed to…?”

“We’re not lovers. You can’t just put a photo of us in your wallet.”

As if to prove a point, Satoru pulled out more photos of his wallet and showed it to you. There were several more wallet-sized photos, mostly of his white cat with black shades, another of him and his best friend, Shoko, and the last photo was of him skiing. They were all placed in his wallet along with a small, faded out photograph of what seemed to be his parents from the younger days. You couldn’t understand why he was showing you this, much less how patient he was as he smiled softly at you. “It’s memorabilia. I keep photos of everyone I care about everywhere with me,” he said, pocketing his wallet back before gazing up at the night sky. “I like to think we’re friends, at least. We’re definitely not just boss and employee anymore.”

Then what are we?

There were so many things you wanted to ask. You always knew he was always this overly friendly and nice, but what did make you? What did a friend mean to him? Other than Shoko, who was his lesbian friend who was also the company’s resident doctor, you’d never seen him be platonic with another female before.

The realization made your mood drop.

Maybe you were right. He probably didn’t even see you as a woman, but what did it matter? You didn’t like him. You shouldn’tlike him. Even if he had no intentions of wooing you, Gojo Satoru was far too appealing for his own good. Being around him was dangerous for your heart.

“Wanna ride the ferris wheel? The night city always looks beautiful.”

He was just your boss...and you were just a friend. Things were going to be alright as long as no feelings were involved. You survived seven years of working with him with not a single moment where your heart fluttered when he spoke your name; a baby made between you shouldn’t change anything now. At the end of the day, you were both only doing this out of responsibility. Satoru was trying his best to become a supportive co-parent to you, and that was all it ever would be. Strictly business – purely professional – as it always had been and always will be.

Foolish girl, you could hear a voice whisper at the back of your head, don’t get too lost in his eyes.

“Y/N, are you tired? Do you want to go home now? We can just order dinner to be delivered if you’re exhausted,” Satoru tugged at your sleeve to get your attention, and you chuckled awkwardly, not meaning to have spaced out the whole time. Worry was written all over his face from the way his brows dipped, stunning blue eyes darkening like the night sky you both made memories under.

Don’t look at me like that...

“Are you okay? Do you wanna go home?”

“Yeah,” you chirped far too brightly than you would’ve liked. Right now, it was more of a mission of fake it til you make it. You would just have to keep exerting the same amount of effort into making this work for the baby’s sake. And if that meant pushing aside any budding desire for this to last any longer to focus on your ‘friendship’, then you would do it. Taking Satoru’s hand for the first time since the baby ordeal, you flashed him a genuine smile. “The ferris wheel sounds nice. Let’s do some sightseeing before the night ends.”

Neither of you speak inside the cab. Beautiful the night was as the city shone into awakening illumination beneath you, comforting you with the thought that in the grand scheme of it all, you were small. Insignificant. That somehow everything you worried about wouldn’t matter when there was a much bigger world out there, and you were but a fickle dot in the middle of its entirety. But that was you, and Gojo lived in a much different world than you did. For somewhere in the city, you could recognize several of the sky towers, buildings, and establishments owned by his family. He mattered in the grand scheme; you were a small factor in his world.

Glancing back at the man who’d been silent the whole ride, you smiled upon seeing that he was doing the same. Satoru was practically bouncing in his seat as he snapped several photos of the city, mumbling something about he’d never seen this view before.

He was so innocent yet so out there, igniting within you an urge to take care of him and wanting to be taken care of by him.

You’d already accepted that you may just never have him that way. That small, fleeting crush was like a butterfly – pretty look at, but damn near impossible to catch. You’d already stopped crying yourself to sleep over the new changes brought about in your body, that in a few months’ time, you’d look back into everything and see that everything had changed. The mistakes you made that night were still something you regretted because you wished you could’ve done better, but seeing him right in front of you now, there was only gratefulness blooming within. Grateful that he was right by your side, grateful that at least the father of your child was more than capable of giving them a comfortable life, grateful that he didn’t push you away like you expected.

Acting more on impulse than logic, you leaned over to press your lips on his cheek.“Thank you,” you mumbled, eyes closed as you let your lips stay there for a few more seconds.

His skin was warm underneath your touch, and when you opened your eyes, Satoru was gazing up at you with stars twinkling in the vast galaxy he called his eyes. You smiled at his reaction, watching as he reached a palm out to caress that spot your lips had landed.“For what?”

“For everything,” you crumbled,“You’re not a bad person, Satoru, I know that,” with shuddered breaths, tears sprung at the back of your eyes again. “I’m sorry for being so difficult. I just need time to adjust to…well, all of this.” Your voice cracked at the last sentence and you were crying before you knew it, face hidden behind your palms in fear he’d look at you differently. In his eyes, you were always his stoic secretary who didn’t even bat an eye when people gave you backlash after Satoru hired you despite the lack of a college degree.

This all felt new – to cry, to trust, to rely on someone – and there was a flurry of emotions you couldn’t quite place yet.

Scooping you into his arms, Satoru patted your back as your cries grew louder. “Take all the time you need. We don’t have to rush into anything at all.”

In the harsh world of conglomerates where the laws of business blurred thinner and thinner with each day, it was hard to believe that not rushing into anything would be possible. It was always a flurry of hurried phone calls, frantic preparations for emergency meetings, anxiety over presenting new proposals and hoping that your superiors would sign your documents so you could go about your way. Time was as imperative as money was to them, but Satoru had proved he could be beyond that.

From the moment you met him, he never treated time as if it was something that slipped through his fingertips. He enjoyed every second he had of his life, and perhaps that was why you hated him so much in the first place.

You thought he took everything for granted, when in reality, all he did was bask in the little things life offered.

This much, at least, you trusted him with. If he said there would be no need to rush and you could both take it slow, he meant it. Around him, time felt more like a secret whisper than a treasure you both had to seize to protect. The night drifted off until it was already midnight and the crew was ushering all visitors out. You and Satoru made it home safely and quietly, hands linked together as if it was the most natural thing ever. No rush, you kept telling yourself, and you plopped down on the couch heavily as you let your muscles relax from such a long, eventful day.

You stayed there for a solid minute or so when you felt warm hands take your heels off. Opening your eyes, Satoru kneeled before you, his fingers expertly rubbing and pushing against the sore muscles of your feet. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Your feet must be tired from all that walking,” he mumbled, looking up briefly to meet your eyes and tease your shoulder back. “Lean back for me. I’ll take care of you.”

Judging by the sentiment behind his smile, you figured it wouldn’t be harmful to enjoy this at least once. You’ve never gotten foot massages before but his hands kneading yours felt heavenly. You knew from experience beforehand that Satoru was quite godly when it came to the skills and magic his fingers brought, though this one was on a different level, and you were sinking deeper into the couch from the bliss. He was right; you were tired, and if having your boss massage you like this every night after dragging you wherever he pleased, then you wouldn’t complain.

The ringing of your phone made you sit up abruptly, surprising Satoru whose head you almost knocked into. “Sorry,” you croaked out sheepishly, “It’s my dad. I need to take this.”

“Do you need me to leave you alone?”

“Uh, no, you’re fine.”

Satoru gestured to your foot as you took the call, mouthing, “Should I continue?”

“Yes, please,” you answered back, palm pressed over the mic before you answered. “Hey, Dad!” Your father greeted you back with much enthusiasm, his energy heard even by Satoru who sent you small smiles and curious glances every now and then. A part of you wanted to ask if he was fine kneeling on the floor like that, but his knees were on the fur carpet anyway that it shouldn’t hurt him. He extended your leg and trailed up your calves, pulling a soft moan from you when he kneaded the flesh and rid it of its knots. His ministrations distracted you until you were nodding absentmindedly to your Dad every now and then, not really paying attention to what he was saying.

Then the call ended, and his last words kept ringing back into your head ominously. Satoru took quick notice of this as he tapped your knee, bringing your attention back to him. “Is something wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I...” you started, helplessly fumbling around Satoru. “My dad is in Tokyo. He said he wants to have dinner with me.”

“You don’t look particularly happy about that. Do you not want to meet your father?”

“I do but...”

“But?”

“I have to tell him about this,” you shivered, refracting your legs back to the couch until his touch disappeared from your skin. For a moment, you had the urge to crawl back to his heat, but you were restless, agitated. “About us. He’s going to want to meet you and I don’t want to hide the pregnancy from him either,” Satoru remained unmoving as you rambled, and you hid your face behind your arms again as you remembered the rules you asked him to follow. “Listen, I’m sorry if I sound unfair right now, I know I said I didn’t want anyone else knowing—”

Warm lips brushed over your knuckles, large hands peeling your wrists to reveal your face. “Hey, it’s fine. He’s family and you can tell him. It’s not like your Dad would ruin your image or something like you expected to happen.”

“He won’t but...” you frowned, “My dad isn’t going to like this. I can’t guarantee he’ll be civil the whole time, especially towards you.”

“You told him about me?”

“A few years ago, yeah, when I still couldn’t tolerate you.”

“So you can tolerate me now?”

“Only a little bit,” you corrected, pushing his hands away as you opened your phone to check your schedule. It was mostly Satoru’s schedule, truth be told, but you were free for the most part tomorrow. Satoru could just longue back in his office while you clocked out early to meet your dad. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. On second thought, he doesn’t have to know at all. I’m only a few weeks in and it’s not like he’ll notice—”

“Y/N,” Satoru interrupted you, rudely snatching his phone from your shaking fingers. You would’ve scolded him had he not sounded so worried. “I did promise I would take responsibility for you, right? I want to meet your dad and introduce myself properly. As a father-to-be, I think I can somewhat understand that he might react strongly to this, but I also need to reassure him you’re in safe hands,” taking your hand in his, Satoru leaned into your palm, the smile he wore way too charming than what your heart could handle. “As long as you’re okay with it, I would like to meet him.”

“I’m sorry if he does something stupid.”

“Don’t be,” he reassured with a chuckle. “I’m sure everything will go well.”

It didn’t go well. Your father wasn’t throwing a fit or causing a scene like you originally feared, but the current situation wasn’t any better either. He looked like he was on the verge of tearing Satoru’s head apart, his grip on the bread knife so tight his knuckles flashed white. Your father was the literal definition of unpredictable and out of nervousness, you held Satoru’s hand under the table for comfort.

In complete opposition of yours, Satoru handled it with class and composure. His head was ducked down in respect, making sure to be curt and precise in counters to your father’s harsh accusations.

“I’m really sorry for everything, Sir.”

“Did you ruin my daughter’s life?”

Satoru finally tilted his head back up to look your father in the eye, both your hands turning cold and sweaty in between the seats. “Pardon?”

“I asked if you ruined my daughter’s life by getting her pregnant.”

“I would never intend for that to happen, Sir,” Satoru straightened up. From your perspective, he looked every bit the man parents would want their children to be with – handsome, elegant, educated, polite, respectful and well-off – but your father was no ordinary parent. He sized Satoru up like a predator hunting his prey even as the latter acted cool about it. “Granted, it was an accident and neither of us are prepared for this, but I promise I’ll take care of her. I take responsibility as the father and you have nothing to worry about.”

Your dad slammed his palms down on the table, the loud smack catching the attention of nearby tables. “How dare you tell me I have nothing to worry about?”

“Dad, please don’t do this.”

“No, he needs to know,” he snapped. Unable to help it, you groaned inwardly and scooted closer to Satoru, knowing where this was leading. “I lost her mother right after she was born; raised her by myself when I was barely out from high school. Rich men like you may never understand the struggles of taking care of a baby all by yourself, but I did everything I could to make sure she grew up well. My daughter had a happy, comfortable life. When she told me she wanted to follow her dreams in Tokyo, I supported her, and then you go take everything away from her because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself? You dare defile her like that?”

“Dad!” you roared, clutching Satoru’s hand who’d gone limp. “It was equally my responsibility as it is his! I wanted this; we both got carried away but we’re doing our best, so please stop being difficult to us.”

“You wanted this?” he laughed dryly, “A child with this man you kept moaning to me about; the same man who went to clubs every night while he left you all by yourself to work, to clean up his mess from him? You wanted him?”

“Dad,” you gritted your teeth, nails sinking down onto your thigh. Satoru remained silent between you both, although you could feel his burning gaze penetrating through the back of your skull. “It’s both our mistake. But this child...we don’t see it as that. We like to view it as a blessing. It may be true we harbour no affection for one another, but we want to be good parents. That’s all you need to know and I find no reason to explain myself to you. If you have nothing else to say, you can go back home. I’ll pay for your ride,” slamming down a few bills his way, you glared at your father, who shrunk back at the anger radiating off of you. “You’re not welcome here, Dad. Just go back home.”

“I’m just worried for you.”

“You don’t have to. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“I never said you were,” he sighed, rubbing the sides of his temples. “But he just took all your opportunities away from you! What about your dreams? What about your plan of having your own career once you have enough experience? What about—”

“Are you implying that because I’m pregnant, suddenly I’m not qualified to fulfil my goals?”

“Sir,” Satoru cut you off, releasing your hands as he leaned forwards on the table, becoming more and more like the CEO he was trained to be – all authority and gentle command that won the hearts of multiple investors. “I assure you that I won’t be holding your daughter back from the things she wants to achieve. As her co-parent, I’m perfectly capable of supporting her in the dreams she wishes to achieve. I’ve worked with her for years; I know she can reach for the stars if she wanted.”

Your mind blanked.

“Young man, don’t talk to me as if you know my daughter better than I do,” your father scorned, “I’m not questioning your capability to support her, but what about your credibility? How can you assure me you’ll really be there for her? How can you assure me you won’t leave my daughter stranded in the middle of nowhere? How can you assure me you can protect her from the harsh criticism of society? Money can’t provide nor does it solve anything,” your father copied his gesture by leaning forward, but it was to poke Satoru’s chest. “From what I’ve heard about you, I suppose you understand perfectly well why I don’t trust you.”

“Sir, I do plan on marrying your daughter and to give her the life she deserves,” Satoru confessed, effectively stealing from you the ability to speak as he glimpsed your way. “If she lets me.”

“You’ll marry her? Be faithful to her as your wife and have a family? Are you sure you can do that?”

“Yes, Sir, I’m highly confident I can. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Then that’s all I need to know,” your father leaned back in your seat, arms crossed against his chest and a stern expression on his face. “And if I find out you hurt or make my daughter cry in any way, I’ll beat up that pretty face of yours. I have two more sons that’re willing to do the same, if you don’t watch your actions.”

Satoru beamed at your father’s ‘approval.’ “I’ll face any consequence if I fall short on my duties, Sir, but I assure you, it will never have come to that.”

“So we’ve come to an agreement?”

The two men linked and shook hands across the table, completely disregarding the fact you were right beside him. You were beyond appalled, but mostly hurt that you’d been reduced to this way. And they were unaware of it, too, sickening and satisfied yet tense smiles were masked on their faces as they decided your future.

You stood up and left the restaurant.

You kept walking as fast as you could in the cold night, hands shoved into the coat of your pockets. Thousands of pin needles pricked at your heart and your skin the more you replayed the memory in your head. How stupid were you to think that Satoru would be different? And marriage? Was he serious? It all made you sick to the core to the point you wanted to throw up and disappear, until a heavy set of footsteps echoed behind you and tugged your wrist.

“Y/N, wait!” Satoru panted, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “What’s wrong with you? You just up and left—”

“Seriously, Satoru, you’re asking me that?” your face fell flat at his cluelessness, “What’s wrong with you? You men are sickening; planning my entire future like that right in front of me as if I don’t have a say in what I want. None of you asked if I’m okay with this. You really went ahead deciding we’ll get married when I told you already, I don’t want to marry you and I never will!”

Satoru brushed a hand over his hair, a hand on his hip. You could tell his patience was being tested – after being verbally harassed by your father and now with you pushing back in the same heat, it was only a matter of time before he lost his cool. Surprisingly enough, however, his voice remained levelled as he sighed. “What did you expect me to do back there? Tell your father that we’re just going to be roommates and raise a child together as if we’re not already family?” he defended, words slow and pronounced with a hint of hurt behind them. “I respect you and I truly do want to be with you, that’s why I wanted us to get married.”

“You respect me?” you laughed incredulously, “Are you hearing yourself right now? No person respects another by deciding what happens to my life without my consent!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask, okay? I apologize for it and I acknowledge my mistake that I didn’t give you much of a choice. Me being cornered and pressured isn’t a good excuse, but I wasn’t lying when I said I want to take care of you and—”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why do you want to be with me?” you demanded, “Why do you want to take care of me so badly? How did you even take this so well? You weren’t even that angry when I told you I was pregnant.”

Satoru paled. “Was I supposed to be? Should I have pushed you away and kicked you out my life? Is that what you wanted me to do, or is that what you expected from me, considering you’ve made it extremely clear I’m nothing but your airheaded boss and a man who always wants his dick wet, right?” the sting of his words pricked you both – you with your guilt, and him with his pride crushed. But he didn’t let on, didn’t waver and didn’t match your anger as his chest shook with impatience. “I’m trying to be good to you; I want to be good for you and the baby because despite what you think of me, I’m not the devil the tabloids make me out to be. I sleep around, yeah, but I wouldn’t go so far to turn someone away especially when I know I’m supposed to be there.”

“Satoru, if you’re only doing this out of obligation, you can be a good father without marrying me. Marriage is not a requirement; I don’t care what people say that I got pregnant without getting married. That’s the least of my concern, I just want the baby to grow up healthy but I don’t want to be involved with you.”

With how stunned Satoru looked, one would’ve thought you slapped him right in the face. That mere sight of seeing your boss tear his walls down in front of you almost made you feel bad, but you had to be strong.

You had to be firm with what you stood for.

“I really don’t want to be with you, Satoru. I’m so sorry.”

“What do you want me to do?” his voice cracked, begging and pleading as he stood before you, looking every bit of a man lost in uncharted territory. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Y/N. One moment, you’re telling me you want me to be a good father, and then the next you’re pushing me away. People are so sure that I’m a man who can never settle down because they believe I have commitment issues, but I’m telling you I can commit to you right now,” he held your hand, rubbing some of his warmth at your comparably cold ones. You didn’t fail to notice that he was trembling, but what about what you couldn’t decipher. “Are you really sure I’m the one here who isn’t capable of that? What are you so scared of that you can’t trust me?”

“Because you’re you! Because you’re a fucking asshole who’s been treating me like I’m an overworking machine and always expects me to undo your shit for you! Because you make me sick and I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t know what love means!” Exploded. You exploded. “I regret everything that happened between us that night. No, in fact, I regret ever meeting you at all.”

Satoru took a step back.

All the light and joy that fit so perfectly with him had now disappeared.

“I’m sorry,” he demurred, “I’m sorry that I’d been so repulsive that you’ve felt miserable for all this time. I’m sorry I haven’t been a decent boss and I’m sorry I’m not good enough for you.”

“Gojo, stop. Stop doing that; stop apologizing!”

“Then tell me what you want me to do,” he barked desperately. “Because I can’t read your mind and I just want to be good for you.”

“What if I don’t want you to? I don’t want you to be good to me, I don’t want you to care about me. Be there for the baby, but don’t involve yourself too much in my personal life. Stop asking me to marry you because you and I would never work out. We’re impossible, okay?”

“How do you know we’ll never work out when we haven’t even tried?” he pushed, “You never even gave me a chance.”

“You’re not worth that chance.”

If someone could receive an award for effortlessly trampling over someone repeatedly, you would’ve been crowned winner a long time ago. You had no idea what came over you as you spat all those hurtful words to Satoru, but did your words bear no truth? The fact that he no longer defended himself meant he also knew that he wasn’t worth it – that he wasn’t someone to be trusted. It wasn’t that you were completely unfair too; of course you considered it. Weeks of living under the same roof as him and you most definitely considered it. Say you did get married and became a real family – what then? It wasn’t a marriage out of love, but rather out of responsibility and obligation.

As much as you loved your child, you couldn’t imagine throwing away your future and living miserable for the rest of your life like that.

A life built on lies wasn’t a life worth living.

“I would never hurt you.”

Your heart cracked. After everything you said, after all your efforts to keep him away from your own safety, after all the hurtful things you’ve done to him, and he was still apologizing? Why did he have to make it so hard to let go? You were tired, so tired that you could no longer refrain your lip from quivering as tears caked your face.

“Gojo, please, don’t—”

“So if me stepping away from your life is what would really make you happy, then I’ll respect it. But there’s one thing I have to ask,” Satoru swiped a thumb under your eye to catch the tear. His smile was forlorn, his touch cold and words melancholic. “Do you want the baby? Do you...want to keep the baby and be a mother? You don’t have to do anything for me, I just want to know if the mother of my child even wants to be one. And please be honest, because everything you say right now are words that I’ll mark seriously.”

The word left your mouth before you could stop it.

“No.”

“No what?”

“I don’t want to be a mother,” you admitted, hands trailing over your belly. It felt like you were betraying your own child, but you hadn’t planned this. “I’m too young, Satoru, I-I’m not ready for this. With you there beside me or not, I really don’t want this.”

“Then,” he cleared his throat, turning his head to the side to catch a moment. You swore you saw his eyes shine under the city lights with tears, but it was gone so soon that you might’ve just fooled yourself with it. Once he deemed himself ready to talk, Satoru took a deep breath. “Do I have your consent that once the baby is born...it’ll be under my care? Would you prefer to reach your own dreams, then? You’ll never have to be a part of the Gojo family if it’s really not what you want, even though I could support you as much as you need me to.”

Your eyes widened at his proposition. “You’ll take care of our baby?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Can I...can I visit them, at least, once in a while?” It was more than just your heart that broke that night. There was no telling whether you’d hurt yourself in the long run with this decision. It was no easy choice to make – to actively pursue your dreams somewhere else more than being a mother. You wanted to do your best, of course you did, but it wasn’t that easy. Gojo didn’t have to tell you for you to understand that once you married him, you’d be expected to run the business with him and be involved in his family and their dramas. Now that wasn’t a life you wanted.

“You’re free to visit them whenever,” he promised, voice fading even lower into the background. “So is this it? We’ll just be living under the same roof until the baby is born and once they’re here...”

“We’ll part ways.”

“We’ll part ways,” he nodded in agreement, sniffling for a brief second before fixing his tie. The Gojo Satoru you got to know for a few weeks had now disappeared. Not even the goofy boss you spent seven years with could be found in the coldness of his eyes, almost as if he’d put up such impenetrable walls around him and nothing could pass through. The sudden shift in aura made your heart clench as he offered his hand to shake. “Okay. Let’s stay professional until then?”

“Yeah, Sir, I can do that,” your hands shook as you enclosed it around his, but now all the warmth had disappeared – from his eyes, his touch, his soul. It hurt, but this was necessary. It was what felt right. “Thank you – for everything.”

“You’re welcome. Anything for you and the baby,” Satoru proclaimed, perplexing you both when he suddenly pulled you in his arms. Just like that, the dam broke, and you were staining his precious suit before you could stop it. His arms rubbed up and down your back the longer he held you there, almost like a final moment to lean on one another before you had to say goodbye eventually. Beneath your palm, his heart beat exuberantly loud, so much so that you might’ve heard the prayers it whispered. “Stop crying now. The baby might feel sad too. We’ll both be alright – we just have to get through this.”

taglist OPEN: @sixeyesgojo @bongofrito @7tsumurai @aphnyoturkey @stuckindreamland06 @dogsarenyspiritanimal @thebeardedmoon @lildreamer93 @pizzaspirits @q-the-rockaholic @rogueofbullshit @ladywaifuuwrites @flochsgirl @hamsa-mage @sonic-and-songs @vsvwi @misslovingpearl | bolded users can’t be tagged

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samwilsonshandsandass · 3 years

Text

Five Times Sam Kissed You First And One Time You Kissed Him First

Pairing: Sam Wilson x reader Summary: The five times Sam kissed you first and the one time you kissed Sam first Warnings: none, just get your dentists this is pure fluff Word count: 1397

The First Time Sam Kissed You First…

The party, organized by the usual suspects, was supposed to be held outside on the lawn of the Avengers Compound. Sam had moved back into his former quarters there for training new people and building up new initiatives for special special missions. With two job interviews you had lined up in the area, you joined Sam and were promptly roped into attending the party as well.

Now, you sat in front of a mirror on Sam’s desk. When you had asked why there suddenly was a mirror on his standard issue desk, Sam had looked at you as if he couldn’t figure out why you would even ask that. You unscrewed your lipstick and applied the first layer.

Sam, looking even more splendid than usual in his dark blue suit, came up behind you. He bent down and kissed you. It started as a soft kiss but Sam wasn’t a man to do things half assed. He cradled your head in his hands as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

When you came up for air, you chuckled. “There goes the first layer of lipstick. Straight onto your lips.”

“Then so be it.”

… The Second Time Sam Kissed You First…

You stood in the kitchen, shelling peas. Through the open windows, the sounds of rustling trees and of the sea wafted in. Cass and AJ worked through the mountain of sweet potatoes and Bucky had his difficulties with the seafood. He hadn’t moved too long ago, so he was still learning.

AJ complained about the amount of homework he had gotten from his history teacher. “He wants us to write about life in the 30s! But how are we expected to do that, when our book just tells us about dates and who was voted into which position when? That’s not ‘life’!”

“Life in the 30s, you say?” Bucky perked up.

Sam came into the kitchen. “Buck’s flexing how old he is again?”

“If it helps, Sam… And you still didn’t show me the Lord Of The Rings movies. Still!”

Sam stood next to you and kissed you gently on the lips. “Sorry for rushing out like this, need to get back to the boat.”

“Just come back in time to eat. You hear me?”

“Yes ma’am.”

… The Third Time Sam Kissed You First…

In one week, Cass would celebrate his birthday. Today, Bucky did something with AJ out of town, Cass had a school trip and Sarah had an appointment in town. So you and Sam were on grocery shopping duty.

“All right. We need ingredients for the pies, the cakes, some meat, a few vegetables, sweets and seafood-“ You listed off what everyone of the Wilsons’, you and the new step dad Bucky, had written down over the last days.

“You’re not suggesting we of all families buy seafood.”

“Right. Forgot that for a second.”

“Forgot? How can you forget that? And who you’re married to?” Sam had the tone of voice of mock betrayal down to a T.

You squeezed his hands. “So, I get started on the pie and cake things and then we’ll meet at the sweets, after you get the other things?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

You parted ways, each with a cart. You were quicker than Sam and now stood in the sweets aisle, debating what you should get or not. Especially for yourself. From the corner of your eye you saw the other customers; one looked very much like Sam. You turned your head. It wasn’t.

“Other side, love.”

You turned your head the other side and saw a grinning Sam. Before you could do anything, he kissed you sweetly.

“Which kinds do you think we should get?” You held up several kinds of gummy bears.

… The Fourth Time Sam Kissed You First…

The sunlight was too… sunny. Bright. Early. You groaned. Smiling at the memories that resurfaced with the pleasant ache in your muscles, you rolled out of bed. The sun that filtered in through the blinds at least warmed your body.

You fumbled blindly around the bath, still too tired to make the effort to look closely at everything you saw each morning and evening. You reached for your toothbrush and squeezed toothpaste on it. The door opened and you smiled tiredly at Sam. He smiled back and reached for his own toothbrush.

Sam moved closer to you and put his head between your toothbrush and your mouth. He pecked your lips. He stroked your lips with his tongue until you opened your mouth. When you did, Sam sucked your tongue into his own mouth and gripped your head.

You came up for air. “Sam, I still have morning breath…”

“I care about a great many things but morning breath is not one of them” Sam mumbled, only inches from your lips and never loosening his grip on your head.

… The Fifth Time Sam Kissed You First…

It was a normal humid day in Delacroix. Sam was home and after breakfast you now prepared to drive into New Orleans to an animal shelter. For weeks now, Sam and you had talked about getting a dog and when you had thought about everything you needed to do, pay attention to and whatnot, you looked through the adoption process and set about making your life dog-friendly.

At the shelter, you and Sam were shown to the dog kernels. The person you had already talked on the phone stayed with you for a bit to show you the dogs you had shown interest in and then left. She had told you she’d pay attention to how you behaved with each of the dogs from afar.

The first dog she brought out was a female Golden Retriever. One of her eyes was milky but still, she walked quickly to you. She took her time to smell you, before she gave you a small lick. She turned to Sam and after smelling him as well, she boxed him with her nose.

“I think you’re supposed to do something” You smiled at the dog and then Sam.

“Yeah? I’m supposed to do things?” Sam was already entirely smitten with her. You wouldn’t be able to get him out of the shelter without this dog by side. Not that you planned to.

The two of you played with her and petted her. You went on a small walk around the shelter to see how she behaved, but you both knew the decision to adopt her was basically made.

“So, what do you say? Wanna adopt her?” Sam grinned at you and the dog’s tail thumped against the floor.

“Yeah. I think this good girl wants us to take her home, doesn’t she?” You petted her softly.

The thump-thump-thump of the Labrador’s tail increased.

“Love you” Sam mumbled and pulled your face to his. He cradled you in his hands.

A wet snoot wedged itself between you and Sam.

“And you, too” He smiled down at her.

… And The One Time You Kissed Sam First.

Your body seemingly told you it didn’t need more sleep, despite it being five am. No nightmare woke you, no wet snoot from someone who wanted to go on a walk no matter the time, no sudden movement from Sam who would turn so quickly in his sleep he’d wake you up and then trap you in his bone crushing cuddles.

Turning your head, you looked at Sam. The sun didn’t yet rise so there was only the faintest of light playing on Sam’s features. His eyelids, relaxed and his eyes unmoving, his lips slightly parted. You leant over him and kissed his forehead. It creased and relaxed when you trailed your lips down his nose. Now, that scrunched up a little. You continued with his cheeks. You went down from his temples and didn’t leave a spot untouched from your lips.

Sam’s lips were now opened a little more and you kissed the corners of his mouth softly. You softly sucked on his bottom lips before you snaked your tongue into his mouth and cradled his face.

When you stopped kissing him, you heard his voice, raspy from sleep. “Why’d you stop?”

“Who said I was stopping?” You mumbled over his lips.

“He.”

“But I am pausing. There’s a morning run waiting for us” You smirked.

#my things #my writing #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x you #sam wilson x y/n #sam wilson fanfiction #sam wilson fanfic #sam wilson fluff #sam wilson fic #sam wilson x reader insert #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america x y/n #captain america x reader insert #captain america fanfiction #captain america fanfic

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unhealthyfanobsession · 3 years

Note

Omg I love all your drabbles they are so amazing and brilliant I can’t believe you do that for free! What a blessing you are!! I was wondering whether there would be a part four to the vacation au and if not could you do maybe more jealous Cassian but in your lawyer au I’m obsessed but honestly anything you write has me happy!

This is so sweet I am so glad you’re loving the drabbles! I did a second part to the vacation AU a couple days ago so I’m going to go with Jealous Cassian in the lawyer AU. I already *kind* of did this but I’ve been doing jealousy light lately and this time we are cranking it up to 100. This one is kinda long and pretty angsty and I think I definitely need to smoosh all these lawyer drabbles into a mini story that follows Nessian from meeting while studying for the bar exam and then through snippets of their careers so maybe that’s what I’ll do next.

Actually facing Nesta in court was an extreme rarity. All of her non pro Bono work was strictly solicitor. Drafting contracts and negotiating deals in different chic board rooms with little glass bottles of Perrier and complimentary latte carts trolling the halls.

Nesta thought that she didn’t want to litigate. She thought that people didn’t like her and because of that she was a bad advocate. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

Watching Nesta fight for something that she believed in, truly believed in, was the closest thing to a religious experience Cassian had ever known.

“And I would urge you to consider in your decision, your honour, the fact that even if it should apply in this case, the very law my learned friend is attempting to uphold is currently under review by the Supreme Court and may soon be overturned on the basis of being unconstitutional as well as unconscionable.” Nesta took a pregnant pause.

“If that happens. If this law is overturned, as you well know, it will not be retroactively helpful to my client. My client who was born here. My client who grew up in Queens. My client who can draw you a map of which bodegas has the best coffee vs the best sandwiches and their proximity to the nearest train, and if that doesn’t qualify her as an American, and a New Yorker, then I don’t know what does.” The judge smiled a little at that. It was a calculated risk, the emotional appeal. But Judge Miluski was already on Nesta’s side and she was a born and bread New Yorker and she had the rare distinction of being a member of the judiciary with a sense of humour. “If this law is overturned, which we both know is highly likely, then my client will be sent to another country, a country she has never even been to, not because she did anything wrong, but because this trial happened a few weeks too-”

Nesta trailed off, eyes caught at the quietly opening gallery door. A man stepped in. Tall and thin and… greasy. Hair slicked back with so much product Cassian didn’t think he’d feel it if he hit him on the head with a hammer. Which he desperately wanted to do. That brutish, violent, raised in foster homes in Harlem side of him that even a legal education and a closet full of Armani suits could never quite polish out of him lit on fire at the sight of this creep. This asshole who was wearing fucking asics with his $4000 suit. And no tie. Top three buttons of a pinstripe white shirt unbuttoned. What a fucking rube.

Except that this guy. THIS fucking guy, made Nesta lose her train of thought. This guy who walked into court late and had yet to drag his eyes up from Nesta’s ass, had distracted her. Caused her to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and smile a little. This shy, light, cutesy little smile that absolutely did not belong on Nesta Archeron’s face.

When Nesta smiled it was a sly, knowing, victorious thing that curled across her lips and set Cassian’s heart hammering in his chest.

This… this was insanity.

The man smirked, deep and arrogant, as he stood at the back of the courtroom, hands slid into his pockets. Not even respectful enough of the proceedings to sit down.

Nesta gathered herself quickly. The whole mess over in under 20 seconds, but Cassian noticed it. Even as Nesta went on and cited the law and the competing jurisprudence and the ethics and the constitution, he couldn’t focus. All he could think about was that little smile.

Cassian said his final piece, the judge ruled, as they both knew she would, in Nesta’s favor, and it was all over.

Nesta didn’t even gloat like she usually would have. She just stuck her hand out, the absolute picture of professionalism, and shook his.

“Good working with you, Counseler.” She said, as if he hadn’t pulled her around the side of a building and pushed her body up against a brick wall the other day, moulding her into him as they fought over this case. Discussed their future. Their passions.

She’d rejected his invitation to dinner, but she always did. It was a part of the game. A game that Cassian was determined to win.

“Who’s the tech bro?” The sneakers with the suit and the unbuttoned shirt and the general shitty attitude all pointed to that being the only reasonable profession.

“Babe,” the slimy man in question pushed past the swinging waist high half door that separated the gallery and the space where counsel’s desks sat. “Let’s go.” He wrapped and arm too tightly around Nesta’s waist and pulled on her a little.

Cassian curled his fists into his palms so hard his nails bit imprints into the skin of his palms. Babe? Telling her when to leave? The pulling? No.

“I’m Cassian.” He held out his hand. “ADA. What firm do you work for? Haven’t seen you around.”

“Tomas.” The man scoffed, “And I’m not a lawyer. Not interested in all that gibberish you’re type is always spewing. Sounds like pure nonsense to me. I’m a tech investor.”

Yeah. That sounded about right. No actual skills. Not an engineer or developer or even a business manager. Just an idiot with a trust fund throwing money at whatever looked cool.

“Well, Tomas. Do you know why they call that big exam full of all that gibberish you hate the bar exam?” The weasel just raised his eyebrows. “It’s because once you pass it, then you are an attorney. And allowed to cross past this BAR.” Cassian pushed Tomas back out the little half door again. “Which separates the civilians in the gallery from the lawyers making their cases. So maybe learn how to show a little respect.” Cassian scoffed, flicking his eyes to Nesta, “In a few different areas of your life.”

“What the fuck, bro?” Tomas rolled his eyes. “This is why I fucking hate going to your lawyer parties and shit. Jackasses like this.”

“Tomas, please.” Nesta placed a hand on his chest, Cassian tensed, and that seemed to calm Tomas down. Not Nesta’s touch, but another man’s jealousy.

“Why don’t you bring the car around. I have to work out a court date for another matter with Cassian but I’ll be right out.”

“Yeah, ok.” Tomas glared, keeping eye contact with Cassian as he kissed Nesta’s cheek, hand travelling too far down her back. “Hurry though.”

“Of course.” Nesta smiled that same tiny little smile that made her look like a doll on a shelf and Cassian wanted to scream.

“What the fuck are you doing with a piece of shit like that?” Cassian minced no words as he turned to face Nesta.

“Excuse me?”

“Pretty straight forward question, Nes.”

“You… you don’t know him. He’s not like that once you get to know him.”

“Sure he’s not,” Cassian scoffed.

“What is your problem?”

“My problem is that your boyfriend, who I’ve never heard of or seen before today despite knowing you for years, had a chance to see you in court. Had a chance to watch you all fired up and passionate and brilliant and instead he walked in late, stared at your ass instead of listening to what you were saying, and then shoved his way up here and pulled at you to leave like you were some kind of toy he didn’t mind tearing the arm off of.”

Nesta blinked. Huffed out a breath. “We’ve been on again off again for a while. That’s why you haven’t seen him before. And he just doesn’t like lawyer stuff that’s why he’s like that in here ok? Not that it’s any of your business.”

“So you’re dating someone who not only doesn’t recognize how brilliant you are but won’t even let you talk about your job?” That was wrong. That was so wrong. That was… why Nesta was so intense with him. Why she debated and fought and talked for hours. Because she couldnt do it at home.

“Why do you even care, Cassian? Let’s just set a date and-”

“Fuck you, Nesta.” Her jaw fell open. “Fuck you for even asking me that. You know why I care. You can’t play dumb with me like I assume you do with him.”

“You don’t know anything about my relationship!” Nesta defended a little too vehemently.

“I know you can’t yell at him about his take on immigration laws,” Cassian stepped closer to her. “I know you can’t get a little tipsy off your favorite Malbec and go on a rambling tirade about the corrupt judiciary and your twenty three- or twenty five depending on the night- reasons why voting for judges completely undermines the integrity of the legal system.”

The was almost no space between them as Cassian looked down, gently set his hand under Nesta’s chin and raised her gaze to meet his. Burning with anger and passion and barely concealed desire. “I know that he didn’t understand why you were crying when RBG died. Because he doesn’t care about how appointing Supreme Court judges works or what that meant for the future of the court. And because I know that you weren’t with him that night. You were with me. Just like election night in 2016. And the Kavanaugh trials. And when the travel ban came into effect. You found me. Because I get it, and I care about your thoughts on all of those things. I’m devastated by them too. You were with me, Nes. And don’t you dare pretend that doesn’t mean anything.”

“It does,” Nesta let her cheek sink into his palm. “It means everything Cassian, but…”

“But we fight,” he smiled. “We bicker and yell and cross ideologies and disagree on all the little things. But not the big things, Nes. Never on the big things. We disagree on how to change the world, not what we want to change in it. Isn’t that what matters?”

Nesta swallowed. “I can’t risk losing you.” She said quietly. “I need you. For all of those reasons, I need you to be in my life and if we… I hurt the people I love, Cassian. So if I let myself love you, I would only hurt you. And I can’t bear the thought of hurting you.”

“So you date him.” Realization was an arrow sailing into Cassian’s chest. “Because you won’t hurt him. Because you could never actually love him.”

Nesta swallowed. “See? See how awful I am?”

Cassian moved his hand to her back, pulled her into his chest. “Go,” he whispered. “Go do whatever you need to do. I’ll be here. And I’ll be waiting for you to realize that I’m not going anywhere. That I can take it. Whatever you want to throw at me, I can take it, Nes.”

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #nesta archeron #acosf #cassian #nesta and cassian #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #acotar

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sluttbuttsstuff · 3 years

Text

Silver Chariot Agency: An Introduction

This is the first chapter/prologue to my jjba sugar daddy au. To clarify, it’s modern day, with reader x various Jojo characters, all of which are of age, and “sugar daddies”. I’m hoping to have several options/outcomes for various characters, kind of like a chose you own adventure story, or a dating visual novel. As a note, this story may contain some dark themes and content, including drug use, yandere, sex scenes, and other things I haven’t currently planned out.

TLDR: this is the story about Y/N, who starts working at Polnareff’s sugar daddy agency and meets lots of hot jojo guys

ENJOY!!!

“Mr. Polnareff is ready to see you now!” The cheerful secretary (Suzy, you think) calls out, breaking you from your stupor and ushering you behind large, intimidating doors. You grew up with dreams bigger than this, having a good career, doing something important with your life, but life had other plans. You’ve been unemployed for nearly a year, and despite all the classes you’ve taken, interviews you’ve aced, and concessions to pay and pride just to be considered, you still had no job, and your unemployment had finally run out. Long story short, you were desperate. That’s when you first heard about the Agency.

You had noticed an email from the Silver Chariot Agency buried between job applications and rejection letters, and confusing it for a job offer, had opened it to read. According to the email, you had been “scouted” as someone with the qualifications to apply for what appeared to be a Sugar Daddy, or Escort, service. The email was polite, open and honest, but you couldn’t help but be a bit skeptical, if not mildly offended. There’s nothing wrong with sex work, mind you, but it wasn’t something you had any interest in if you could avoid it. You weren’t interested in selling yourself, and even if you weren’t wealthy, you weren’t ready to auction off your time to creepy old perverts just yet. Not to mention, how safe were these agencies? Still, the email had an open doors policy for any questions, as well as a phone number and email to direct all your questions. You were going to delete the email, but somehow you couldn’t bring yourself to. You saved it in your folder, and forgot about it for a few months.

Cut to today: you couldn’t cover your rent, your auto bill, and your credit cards were maxed out. After sending an email, and talking on the phone to a cheerful woman, she convinced you to visit their offices and talk to their C.E.O, who was visiting your nearest location on business. Surprised by their openness, and relieved not to have a door slammed in your face for once, you made an appointment and were now following Suzy through an impressive office space. Silver Chariot had its own expensive looking building, with high ceilings, metal tones and spotlessly clean wall to wall windows and mirrors. The place reeked of elegance, intimidatingly so, and you regretted your outfit choice for this interview.

Suzy finally escorted you into a conference room, with an expansive metal table and tufted leather chairs that probably cost more than your car. Then, at the end of the conference table, you saw a silver haired gentleman, who Suzy introduced as, “Mr. Polnareff, this is y/n, call me if you need anything!” and with that, she left and closed the door. You noticed Mr.Polnareff didn’t stand up to greet you and shake your hand-not out of rudeness, but because he was in a wheelchair. On top of that, he had an unusual looking eye patch, and despite clearly being too young to be considered elderly, had prematurely grey hair slicked back in an unusual pompadour.

He shook your hand firmly, and smiled at you as he greeted you, “It’s so lovely to meet you, y/n, I've been looking forward to seeing you in person. Tell me, what brings you here today?” He asked, sitting forward and listening intently. You fiddled with your hands, trying to politely, but vaguely, explain your situation, without sounding too much like a sob story. Polnareff listened without interrupting, merely nodding, as you explained what you’ve been through.

“That sounds like a difficult situation- it is difficult in this day and age for young people to support themselves, even more so when they have no one to help them when needed. I, myself, had to support not only myself, but my younger sister, Cherie, when I was your age. It was difficult, to say the least, and I didn’t always handle it gracefully to be honest with you. When my sister saw how much we were struggling, she decided to try helping herself and me by turning to sex work.”

You were shocked by his openness, telling so much of his personal story to a total stranger interviewing at his agency. He continued,

“Back in my day, the streets of France were not a safe place to sex workers, least of all vulnerable women unable to defend themselves. It was one of those nights, while my sister was working, that she was tragically attacked and killed. She had no way of protecting herself, as I wasn’t with her, and the police were just as dangerous. She died alone because no one was willing to help save her, myself included. He paused, rubbing his temples as he remembered.

You tried to stop him, “Um, you don’t have to-” you began, but he held up a hand and assured you,

“I am fine, it is a painful, but old wound, and important you hear. It was the most devastating event of my life, but it shaped me into the man I am today. You see, because of what happened to my sister, I was determined to provide a safe place to any and all women and sex workers, no questions asked, to protect them from things that could happen to them. Sex work is not something to be criminalized or judged; it is the oldest profession and a valuable work. So, The Silver Chariot Agency provides a safe way to support those in the industry. That being said, working as an escort, or as it's sometimes called, ‘sugar baby’-”

he punctuates the term with bunny ear fingers, “-Can be dangerous work. There is always a risk of assault, and rape, however hard we may try to combat it, but our agency has extremely strict policies and protection plans to protect our workers in either case. I promise , should you decide to work here, that I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.” Polnareff grabs your hand, looking into your eyes, intensely.

You know you’ve just met him, but you’re inclined to believe Polnareff. He’s either an excellent liar, or simply cares deeply about his company and employees.

“There are, of course, other things to consider before you decide to take this job. It is a job, and many of our clients aren’t looking for romance, but some are hoping to find love and a potential romantic partner via our agency. Some are looking for purely sexual relationships, and some want nothing to do with sex. Some of our clients are involved with...less than legal hobbies and activities, and we strongly caution you not to get involved, as our legal department and contracts can only protect you so far. If you decide to engage, do so with caution.

“ Lastly, you ultimately get to decide who you want to pick as your clients, so choose wisely. I have Suzy-” He gestures to the woman, presumably waiting down the hall to escort you when ready, “Write up summaries and information on every applicant who have expressed an interest in our agency. Make sure to carefully review them, and choose the client you think will have the best relationship.” He finishes, giving you a lot to think of. He can see the gears turn in your mind, and gives you time. “Please, don’t feel like you have to respond today. Or, if you try this out and don’t like it, you can leave the agency or specific clients, with no fear of repercussions.” He Pulls away from the table, and turns towards the door, before pausing.

He seems to change his mind, shaking his head as Suzy gets the door for him.

“I look forward to seeing you again, regardless of your decision, mon amie. I’ll let Suzy handle the rest for today, thank you. If you decide to accept, just call Suzy and ask her to see some client applications to pick out who you’d like to work with. Au revoir.” And with that, Mr. Polnareff disappears with surprising speed. Any other questions and details are handled by Suzy, who cheerfully tells you about the position, average salaries, tax information, and your typical FAQ. You listen mutely, occasionally nodding along, but you’re still thinking about everything Polnareff told you. You could not only support yourself with this job, but make a killing, while still being safe and having a say in the relationships. This could work. This could work…

Less than 24 hours later, Suzy gets another phone call at the office. “Silver Chariot Agency, this is Suzy, how may I assist you today?” She asks cheerily. A familiar voice whispers on the other end, “Do you think I could see some of those client Applications, please?”

#jjba #fic #sluttbuttsstuff #sugar daddy!au #reader insert

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petri808 · 3 years

Note

OHMYGODDD JUST SAW YOUR LATEST POST I LOVE IT ANGST WITH A HAPPY ENDING IS JUST CHEF'S KISS. I WOULD LOVE TO SEE 42, 49 and 13 FOR NALU PLEASEEE CAN'T WAIT TO READ ITT

😳 Ya’ll really love angst huh? Lol okay, sure let’s see what I can come up with. 😊 “You can’t keep pretending it didn’t happen, cause guess what? It did!” + “I’m pregnant” + “Im too sober for this”

Lucy’s knees weakened and sent her crumbling to the bathroom floor. Why was this happening to her?! She’d just finished college and was about to start her paid internship with a local newspaper. ‘What am I gonna do?’ Lucy gripped to the stick in her hand as the tears trickled down her face. This could derail her future before it even started— all because of one slip-up. How was she going to tell Natsu… Not knowing who else to talk to, Lucy turned to her best friend Levy McGarden. She texted the woman and drove over to her friends apartment in dread.

“Oh, Lu…” Levy hugged her friend tightly before pulling her into the small apartment. She sat Lucy down on the couch, then made them both some tea. “How you feeling?” Levy asked as she handed the cup over.

“How do you think I’m feeling?!” Lucy groaned. “I feel like I’m in a nightmare.”

“Are you sure the results are correct? You know those home pregnancy tests can be wrong.”

“I don’t know, I mean I followed the instructions and it didn’t give an error sign.” Lucy pulled the stick from her pocket. “See?” She showed it to her friend. “Two lines.”

“Oh— yeah, looks like it,” Levy agreed.

Lucy pocketed the test once again and hung her head. Both hands cradled the warm cup, just holding it without a desire to drink from it. “Just thinking about this is making me sick. Maybe I can just pretend it’s not true.”

“Lu, that’s ridiculous. I’m pretty sure the growing bump on your stomach will make that difficult.”

“Ugh! I know!” Lucy shrieked. “Lie to me or something… Levy, I-I don’t think I can deal with this!”

“Well, you have to. And how am I supposed to lie about this?!”

“I don’t know, tell me this is a dream. Just a bad dream that I’m gonna wake up from. The test was wrong, something! Maybe it’s just a fiction story I’m working on cause I just don’t wanna think about it right now.”

“I’m sorry, but you can’t keep pretending it didn’t happen, cause guess what? It did! Lucy you have to face reality.”

“What am I gonna do Levy? I can’t be having a baby!”

“Well first things first, you need to tell Natsu— I’m assuming it’s Natsu.”

“Of course, it’s Natsu! I haven’t slept with anyone else.”

“Well you need to tell him. He deserves to know.”

“I know…”

“Natsu’s a stand up guy, I know he’s going to do the right thing.”

Lucy sighed, “that’s not what I worry about. I mean having kids is something that’s crossed my mind… just not anytime soon. We’re not even married yet. Ugh! I’m such an idiot.”

“Sometimes these things happen.” Levy placed her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Can’t go back to the past, so now all you can do is figure out the now. Do you have any idea when it happened?”

“My guess is my graduation party, cause that was the last time we had sex. I barely even remember it cause I was so drunk,” Lucy whimpered, then started to sob. “We’re usually careful but… yeah, it had to be that.”

“Come here,” Levy pulled her friend into a hug. “You’re gonna be okay. Whatever happens, you’re gonna be okay.”

The women spent a couple more hours chatting, flipping between random topics, but often coming back to this one. Lucy struggled to even wrap her mind around the reality that this is real. That she was going to have a child, when she was barely an adult herself and all the factors involved only compounded her dilemma. Her new job isn’t going to afford a child. Natsu had a decent job, but even combined it would be a struggle. They’d have to find a place together, a two bedroom house or apartment. What about the medical expenses, and the baby supplies— babies are expensive! Where was the money going to come from?

When Lucy noticed the time and realized Natsu would be coming home from work within the hour, she thanked her friend for the support and bid her goodbye. Even though she had calmed down a little, she wasn’t ready, didn’t know what or how she was going to break the news to him. So, after arriving home, Lucy tried to distract herself by cooking dinner. It didn’t really work, but at least a meal was made. Her life until now had been going well in that she had a boyfriend who treated her right, supported her while she finished her degree, even pushed her to follow her dreams of writing. And now that her degree was finished, Lucy was on her way after landing the paid internship. If she passed the internship, they would offer her a permanent position at the newspaper.

But now all of that felt like it was slipping through her fingers. All her hard work for nothing because juggling a small child and going to work… Maternity leave is not paid, so they’ll have to rely on just one income for a time, then daycare is quite expensive. Sure, there are programs that she could apply for to help or family, but that’s not the point— the point is, they are sorely not ready to become parents.

“I’m home!” Natsu called out as he entered the apartment. “Something smells good!”

“Welcome home, Natsu.” Lucy called out from the kitchen. “It’s almost done.”

Natsu detected a change in his girlfriend’s tone. Usually when he gets home, she’s in a happier mood— but not today. He threw his keys onto the kitchen island and walked up, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Everything okay?”

Whatever words she’d planned to say were thrown out the window as tears pooled instantly in Lucy’s eyes. “Natsu, it’s…”the words stumbled out, “um… I-I’m pregnant.”

“P-Preg…nant?!” Natsu took a step back in shock, his trembling hand moving to cover his mouth. “Oh, wow— I’m too sober for this,” he mumbled.

“Pregnant,” she repeated as the sobs broke free. “And alcohol is what got us into this mess!” Lucy snapped and sobbed louder.

“Oh, h-hey now, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” Natsu pulled her into his arms. “Don’t cry baby, please don’t cry, I hate seeing you cry.”

“Natsu, I’m pregnant, did you hear me?! Pregnant! I can’t be pregnant!”

“Shh… I hear you,” he gently coaxed Lucy to the couch and had her sit down, then sat beside her, cradling her close. “True, it’s not the best time… but we can make it work.”

“You don’t understand, I’m not ready, Natsu. I don’t think I could handle it…” all the reasons refreshing in her mind. “I have no experience with with kids. What if we screw up? It’s just…” Lucy sighed. “I think… I’m too overwhelmed right now.”

“Okay, well— they make those things now, the, um, end pregnancy stuff.”

“I don’t know…”

“Lucy, I’ll support whatever decision you make.”

“You say that now, but later you’ll probably resent me for… kil— doing that,” she mumbled.

“I don’t know that so neither can you. All I do know is that yes it might hurt— but you’re the important thing right now, and if you say you’re not ready, then I have to accept it. Kids are never easy, I doubt all the preparation in the world can really make a difference. But Lucy,” he took her hand and held it to his chest. “As long as I’ve known you, whatever you choose to do you’re great at it.”

“Really?” She looked up with hope filling her eyes for the first time all day.

Natsu smiled. “And who better to start a family with?” He cupped her cheeks and kissed her. “Then a smart, sassy, beautiful woman like you.”

Lucy’s eyes flooded with tears. “You really think we can make it work?”

He nodded. “As long as it’s something we really want, then yeah.”

After a momentary pause, Lucy let out a long stabilizing exhale. “Okay. I’ll call my doctor and make an appointment tomorrow to check.”

“Really? Y-You sure? Because I don’t want you to feel like I’m trying to coax you into this.”

“No, I-I’m pretty— sure. Things sometimes happen for a reason, right? Maybe it’s meant to be.”

Natsu pulled her in for another longer kiss. “Guess I better hurry up and marry you then,” he chuckled.

She snorted a laugh. “I guess so mister!”

He pulled her close again, hugging her to his chest. “I love you so much baby.”

“Mmm, I love you too.”

“My own baby momma,” he teased.

Lucy slapped his chest with a giggling shriek. “Don’t you dare call me that!”

“Oh,” he grinned, “I’m totally getting t-shirts made.”

#fairy tail #nalu #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #nalu drabble #nalu fan fic #nalu fan fiction #nalu au #pregnancy

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black-dragon1998 · 4 years

Text

Stoic keeper and sick girl chapter 4

Summary: (Y/n) and Lexa tell the team everything and emotions surface.

Also, COVID19 doesn’t exist in this fic!

warnings: Talking about cancer. if this is a trigger don’t read. Everything mentioned is from my own experience as may not apply to everybody.

Talk about past trauma’s and shitty childhood.

part 1 -part 2- part 3

Waking into the dining room you noticed it was still rather empty. The only ones who were already there were Alex, Kelley at one table and Alyssa at another. Alyssa was probably the safer one to sit at. The younger ones would probably want to joke with Kelley and move around a lot, Alyssa most nights stayed at her table and was one of the most rational people on the team.

The blond keeper looked up when you neared with a nervous Lexa. You tried to reassure her with a hand on her shoulder as you let her closer to the table.

“Alyssa I like you to meet Lexa. Lexa this is one of my many good friends, Alyssa Naether. I know she looks scary but she is a big softy inside.” You introduce. Alyssa rolls her eyes at you but introduces herself to the girl. She could see that the girl was relaxed around you.

“it’s nice to meet you, Lexa.” Lexa doesn’t say anything but does give Alyssa a little nod so the keeper took that as a win.

“is it okay if the two of us sit with you? That way she can take off her facemask and eat in peace.” You ask Alyssa, who looks a bit confused at your panicked state. Normally you were far more relaxed with her.

“sure.” She said trying to reassure you with her eyes. If you were freaking out then it has to be pretty serious about what you had to tell or what was going on. The only thing she could do was support you.

“sure.” Alyssa tried to reassure you with her eyes and a kind smile.

“Thanks, Lyss, you’re the best.” You beamed the keeper with your best smile as you put Lexa’s bottle down on the table and lead Lexa toward the food.

“come on Lexa let’s go see if they're in anything you like.” you tried to stay optimistic, you knew how hard it could be to eat when everything you smelled or saw tasted disgusting. Even too today you had days you couldn’t swallow anything and had to fall back on meal replacement shakes.

Throughout the whole buffet, there was nothing Lexa seemed to fancy at the end you sighted, Lexa looked up with a small face.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered under her breath, your heart broke. It wasn’t her fault she wasn’t feeling like eating.

“hey, you don’t have to be sorry about this okay. I will talk with the trainers, normally they have some shakes for me when I don’t feel like eating. I will get you to try one-off those okay. Maybe a cola.” She shakily nods looking down at the floor. Taking her chin between two fingers you make her look up at you.

“say it to me.” Your voice is stern but comforting. You don’t want her to live in the constant fear of disappointing you. You give her an encouraging smile.

“I have nothing to be sorry about.” She told you. Not as confidently as you liked but it was a start. You lead her back to the table and tell her you will be back. Taking her sports bottle with you to fill with some cola.

Alyssa watched as you placed the little girl on the chair in front of her and reassured her that you wouldn’t be gone long. Alyssa had never seen you this tender.

Like the rest of the team, Alyssa had questions, after the end of the game. You had disappeared just after the final whistle had been blown and they had found you thirty minutes in the trainer's locker room with a little kid. When Ali and Christen had tried talking to you, you had given them some very specific orders that the girls couldn’t place. Now seeing the girl in front of her with the face mask and bandana with baseball cap those question only rang louder but they were for later.

“Hey, Lexa.” Alyssa tried to get the girls attention by calling her. Het girl looked up at the keeper with big uncertain eyes.

“Don’t you want anything to eat?” Alyssa asked pointing to her empty plate. All Lexa did was shake her head and look down at the table. Alyssa decided to drop it not wanting until you got back, it was clear you had a connection with the little girl.

The silence in the room was broken when more of the team dripped into the dining room and when more of the younger players it even became rowdy and Lexa flinched at every harsh sound and hoped you would come back fast.

You returned to the dining room with Lexa’s sports bottle filled with cola and one of your shakes. After doing the whole story to Vlatko he had promised to help you with the legal papers and that set up an appointment with your doctor for tomorrow and one for yourself also.

After the whole ordeal, you felled exhausted, all the emotions of the day catching up to you and all you wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep.

Emily spotted you halfway through the room and strode toward you. Like the rest of the team, she had heard about the kid and had seen her with Alyssa. No one of the younger players dared to approach in fear of the older keeper.

“hey (Y/N) how’s the little squirt doing,” Emily asked hoping you would spill something but you weren’t int the mood to talk to anybody.

“buzz off Sonnett.” You growl not being able to contain your frustration and exhaustion. The conversation with Vlatko was a heavy one. Now the stress of getting your blood draw tomorrow was causing extra stress. You had awful veins and you dreaded it.

Emily was taken back by your tone, normally it took you a lot more to rile you up.

“wow, what got your panties in a twist?” Emily tried to lighten your mood.

The conversation between you and Sonnett had drawn the attention of the rest of the team. You could already see Ali and Ash make their way toward you.

Lexa had gotten of her chair and was running toward you, she could see how stressed you were and she wanted to help because you always helped her.

“(Y/N)!” Lexa grabbed your hand tried to give it a reassuring squeeze but because of her weakened state, it wasn’t hard and also tried to give you a reassuring smile. You didn’t know if you should laugh or cry, how could a child that had gone through all she had to be still so compassionate. Sinking through your knees make you almost eye level with her.

This caused all the veterans to immediately come running toward you while the younger players just watched. There was a small panic going around the team, you never showed emotions so openly.so I kind of freaked them out. Even though you hadn’t shed a single tear you looked exhausted.

“I’m okay Lexa. Thank you.” You whisper to the girl, looking at her gave you enough courage to scrape yourself together and lead her back to the table. When she sat down you handed her the coke and shake, which looked at sceptically but opened it when you told her it tasted like strawberries. After the sip, she takes another and another.

When the team decided you have ignored them enough they send Ali and Ash to talk to you. Seeing as they had the best track record with you.

You could feel their eyes burning into your back and it was just a matter of time before they tried to talk to you. For the moment you just watched Lexa enjoy her shake.

“your friends are staring at us,” Lexa commented looking at you from under her cap. She looks cute with one of your caps and hoodie.

“I know. They will come over here any moment to talk. They like to do that. You want to tell them?” you would leave the choice to her, it’s her life and you would support her either way.

“I want to stay with you.” She confesses looking up at you with big eyes. It makes you happy she felled secure with you.

“I know that sweety but that doesn’t mean I am forcing you to tell them. I’m not going to force you to tell them anything you don’t want to.” You assure her.

“But I want to be honest with them.”

“well if you are brave enough maybe I could half as brave and do the same.” You stroke her cheek and smile at her. Krashlyn took that moment to interrupt you.

“What should you tell us?” Ashlyn asked while she and Ali sit down in front of you before you look up you catch Lexa’s eye.

“ready little warrior.” She gives you a simple nod. Turning to the couple and try to give them a reassuring smile.

“Lexa and I have to tell you all something.” Suddenly a lot of voices started talking. Asking what it was and how you met Lexa. You cut through it with a sharp whistle and instruct them all to take a seat and listen. You had never seen them sit down so fast and be shut up, maybe you should try that whistle more.

“you want to tell them first?” Lexa swallowed hard before she looked up at the soccer players.

“okay guy’s this is Lexa I met her today after the game, after talking to her I have decided to become her legal guardian. Vlatko is helping me with the papers.” You pause for the information to sink in but not long enough for chaos to break out.

“wait with the questions and judgment until after Lexa and I have done our story.” You gave Lexa a reassuring smile while glaring at your teammates. Lexa grabs your hand for support.

“I have leukaemia and (Y/N) had promised to stay with me so I don’t have to do the therapy alone. I hate being alone in the hospital and she makes me feel safe.” The weight of the word behind the childlike didn’t go unnoticed by you.

Many of the soccer players in front of you had unshed tears in their eyes. After her story, Lexa buries her face into your shoulder. Hugging her back in return almost seemed like second nature.

“you were so brave, little warrior. I’m so proud of you.” You Lexa while hugging her close. When I was obvious she wouldn’t be say anything more.

“I saw Lexa in the stands alone and could immediately tell what the problem was. A couple of kids were picking on her for it, that is when I decided to step in and take her inside with me, I didn’t know how bad her immune system was so I didn’t want to take any chances. Tomorrow both of us have to go to the hospital for a blood test. Then I can tell how much resistance she is against bacteria.” You explain stroking Lexa’s back soothing her and trying to minimize her stress.

“why would they be picking on her?” Christen asks, not understanding why Lexa would be bullied. You have to chuckle at their childlike innocence, most never had to deal with people looking at them weird or shinning them for being different.

“Because people are A-holes, who mistreat everything that is different and not to normal standards.” You grith out between clenched teeth, memories from your past resurfacing. You still remember the stares and the whispers from when you were in a wheelchair because you were to weak to walk. People were far less subtle than they thought they were.

“yes, they are.” Lexa agrees with you while climbing in your lap to hug you. You figured all the emotions and exhaustion were getting to her, so you drab your arms around her so she can rest a bit.

The whole team looks at you shocked at how soft you are with the little girl. They had never seen you so soft. Some of the veterans were concerned when you told them you were becoming this little girls guardian, to team standards you were still a baby. Only being a couple of months older than Tierna but seeing you like this changed their minds. Also, an unspoken promise was going through the group, they would help you in any way they could.

Taking a deep breath you looked at your team, who were watching you and Lexa with big eyes. Now was as good a time as any to drop your own bomb, hoping that having Lexa with you will lessen the yelling they were going to do.

“There is something I want to tell you guys,” you speak before losing your nerves, freaking out internally. What if they start treating you differently? What if they start looking at you with pity?

Well, you couldn’t go back now.

“There is another reason I stepped out into the crowd today. I saw a lot of myself in Lexa. Because I also had leukaemia as a kid. Twice actually.” Gasp go through the group moments before questions are fired at you.

“(Y/N) sweetheart, why didn’t you tell us?” Ali asks coming closer so she can give you a reassuring smile and doesn’t scare you away.

“This is the only place I feel normal.” You confess not looking up at your team.

“it’s tough being a kid with leukaemia, people treat you different when they know. I was diagnosed for the first time when I was six. You are forced to grow up mentally and emotionally so fast sometimes you forget you are only a kid. I learned to put things into perspective fast, fearing you are not going to going to make it to the next day makes other kids tantrums banal in comparison. This caused me to stick out around my peers and made it hard to make friends. Not that it bothered me that much at that age, I was in the hospital a lot. You take a moment to take a couple of breath before you continue.

“Football is something I love and I didn’t want to be treated differently because of it. That is the big reason I didn’t tell anybody.” A lot of the woman around you are crying or holding each other for comfort. Lexa tightened her hold on you.

The silence in the room is heavy buy familiar. Most people didn’t know what to say after you told them so you decided to let them process everything first before they had to speak to you.

“Alright, that is enough emotions for one day. I’m taking Lexa back to my room so she can rest.” Getting up you grab her sports bottle with you while making your way to the elevator with Lexa in your arms.

taglist:

@superbscissorsdeanexpert

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